<center>Prologue</center>
<center>In Search of Sulvera</center>
North Castle, 11 AM

<center>~~~</center>

An ill-fated wind was beginning to blow from the western world.

The people could feel it, and they shivered as the clear, blue Hyrulean sky began to disappear behind a dark veil of black and grey storm clouds. Thunder could be heard like a titanic battle of the gods on high from over Calatia, far away from the warm and optimistic land of Hyrule.

As the darkness enveloped the sky, it also enveloped the city. Three figures, each clad in uniform black cloaks, walked slowly and casually through the gates of North Castle Town. The leader of the three, walking a few paces ahead of the subordinate duo, stopped abruptly and held his hand in the air, signaling for the others to halt. He gazed about the town, observing his surroundings and taking in the scenery. Despite the petrifying, stormy sky that loomed overhead, threatening to lay a watery downpour on the people of the town, the citizens were as carefree as they had been under the hot morning sun. A mother picked up her child in her arms and carried the girl affectionately into a simple home; a traveling merchant was trying almost desperately to sell a variety of fruit on an elaborate market setup to a pair of uninterested Zora; a botanist wiggled his bushy mustache as he spoke with adventurers passing by; a group of three Royal Knights stood and conversed, facing away from the newcomers on the scene.

<center>A group of three Royal Knights...</center>

The leader of the cloaked trio made a quick decision. He waved his hand towards the merchant, and the others quickly ducked low and ran to the fruit stand. The leader walked casually as always to the merchant and nodded quietly to the Zora, who had been looking for an excuse to ditch the pushy salesman up until this point anyway. The gave a quick salute, obviously quite intimidated by the strangers, and took off at a joyful run towards the Town Square to observe any interesting sights the city might provide that day. They hoped that this was the last they'd be seeing of any dark-clothed men for a while.

The merchant was, by this point, a little concerned. “H-hey now, y'went 'n' scared off m' cust'mers. Now're y'all gon' buy some froot or am I gon' hafta ask ya's t'leave?”

The superior cloaked man, without even a hint of emotion or consideration for the merchant's well-being, quickly threw out a gloved right hand and hauled the fat man out of his makeshift stool and across the table. A melon rolled off the stand in the process and exploded as it hit the ground. The man stared into the merchant's terrified eyes, his own face concealed beneath a deep, facially barren hood. He began to speak.

“I'm looking for someone.”

The merchant was clearly not impressed. Was this character some kind of a psychopath?

“Now you list'n 'ere, fella, I don' take too kin'ly to yer rough-housin' 'n' boist'rous behav'yer, y'got that?”

An appropriate thing to say when discontent with the treatment he had been given, but clearly not the right thing for our friend the merchant to say. The hooded man heaved his query over the table and threw him to the ground, the others simply standing in spot like statues watching their superior act on necessity.

“I'm looking for someone. Perhaps you've seen him or know the name. He goes by the alias Sulvera.”

The merchant scrambled to his feet, panting now and clearly unhappy with his latest customer.

“Now see 'ere, fella, I ain't never 'eard o' no Sulwhatta, now you kin go on 'n' git out o' mah bus'ness.”

The hooded one folded his arms and gestured casually to an intricate ring that the merchant was wearing on his left hand ring finger. The merchant looked at the ring and began to turn an even brighter shade of red.

“Where did you get that ring.”

The merchant gulped and took a step back, bumping into a second cloaked man. He looked back in panic and then stumbled forward, gulping again and looking up at the first cloaked man.

“I dunno, I got it from some trav'ler. Traded it fer a couple red Rupees 'n' a han'ful o' these 'ere Trinian for'st cherries. Dress'd jus' like you fellas ...”

The cloaked hand darted forward again and grabbed the merchant by the collar. He threw the man to the ground and leaned by him. His already stern voice took on a tone of disgust.

“Yes. He did. Now why don't you be a helpful 'fella' and tell us what you know about that man.”

The merchant had had enough. He had only come to this goddess-forsaken kingdom to sell some fresh fruit and see some of the world renowned tavern brawls. Now he was laying on the ground, quite hurt, and being interrogated by someone he didn't know about someone he had shared a drink with once over a year ago. He eyed the Knights and seized his chance to escape the confrontation.

“Y'know, y'oughtta be kind'r t' civ'l serv'nts like m'self, we don' do you cloak folk no harm... Guards! Guards! 'Elp! I'm bein' 'tacked o'er 'ere! 'Elp! 'Elp! 'El --”

**thunk**

The man doubled over and spit up a little, his eyes wide. The cloaked man stood and turned to face the Knights, who had already become aware of the commotion and were now staring, arms drawn, in the face of the interrogators. The head Knight, a fully battle-armed tank of a guard, and armed with a large two-handed sword to boot, paused and looked over the men with suspicious eyes. He turned to his own subordinates and spoke. “That's them alright.”

“You three. Hooded vagrants. You are hereby under arrest, under the International Department of Criminal Justice, Calatia branch. Put your hands in the air and be silent. Do not resist or your sentence will be affected to the same degree.”

One of the lower cloaked men drew a dagger from his sleeve and took on a battle stance. The head Knight let out a loud laugh.

“You don't really believe that you can best this beast with that little wimp butter knife, do you? Give me a break here, runt.”

The captain took a step towards the dagger-wielding vagabond, and with a loud grunt he smashed his oversized sword down towards the miscreant. Although agile as a hawk seeking its prey, the hooded person stepped out of the way of the incoming sword and slid around behind the Knight. He stood, and with minimal force, gave the burly Knight a small jab with his boot. The Knight, still caught in the momentum of his attack, fell forward with a great clanking and grunted loudly in shock. The offender doubled back to his allies and received a pat on the back from the third cloaked man, who proceeded to pull a sword of his own from nowhere. The pair advanced on the remaining Knights. An epic duel was about to begin. Who would win this incredible battle of unequivocal proportions?

**Snap**

No one, apparently. The leader of the cloaked team motioned for the other two to drop sheath their weapons. They nodded, and did as they were informed. The trio raised the collective six hands into the air above their heads, but each was holding a small, round object in each's gloved right hand.

“We really need to outlaw those damn things...” grunted one of the Knights, and in a flash the entire area was encased in, well, a flash of blinding white light. It cleared, and the Knights were already well on their way back to the Barracks. The merchant scrambled off the ground and called after them.

“Oi! Ain't you Knight fellas gon' go aft'r them hoolig'ns? Huh?”

The captain turned and shook his head. “Why bother. They, like half of Hyrule's criminals, have embraced Deku Nuts. It's a sad world we live in where any enemy of the kingdom can disappear as they please and escape enforcers like ourselves with ease, but what can ya do?”

He turned and abandoned the merchant, who slumped down on his stool and almost began to cry, partially in pure rage. A pair of Gorons walked by, and he instantly forgot about the event. He began jumping about, trying to sell the destroyed melon to his newest customers.

“Hey, folks, that there melon'll be half price. Jus' a coupl' silv'r Rupees oughtta cov'r it. Step right up ...”

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In a back alley, the cloaked men sat with backs against a shop's outer wall, hoods down and heads slumped low. The dagger-wielding man sighed and raised his head, shaking it as he spoke.

“We'll never find him. He's gone, and you know it.”

The sword-wielding person, who was actually female, stood and began to kick at some dirt on the alley floor. “Kessler is right, Sol, he's probably halfway around the world by now.”

Solstrem Maverick raised his head, as well, and spoke in an urgent and serious voice. “We will find him. If we don't, they will. And then this world's cataclysm will be on our hands.”

Colvin Kessler and Trish Gorman knew that their friend was right. They would resume their search immediately. The man known as Kain Sulvera would be found if Apocalypse were to be avoided.

<center>An ill-fated wind had begun to blow across Hyrule.</center>