Warm sunlight washed over the green grass and trees Link beheld upon leaving the strange chamber. Its exit sat halfway up the side of a stony hill, where a raised path meandered down to his right. Birds twittered and flitted in high branches, and the nearby yelp of a startled fox briefly cut through the mid-morning peace.

Link recognized none of it. Where he stood was just as much a mystery as who he was. With the sights and sounds around him lacking familiarity of any kind, he was momentarily at a loss.

Now what?

Part of the path protruded out and away from the hill, lending an easy perch from which to observe everything in every direction save the hill and chamber he had just left. Maybe I’ll see something familiar from there, he thought.

Link trotted to the edge, where he beheld for the first time -- according to his memory, anyway -- the land in which he dwelt.

Vast variety greeted his eyes. Link immediately realized the hill stood on a giant plateau, which allowed him to see much further than he otherwise would have. A small forest spread from the base of the hill below. Telltale movements in the trees and shrubbery betrayed the presence of wildlife, though what kind Link could not tell. Further out, the edge of the mesa was bordered by what appeared to be man-made walls, crumbling and far removed from their original glory. It was what lay beyond the plateau, however, that arrested his gaze.

A magnificent castle dominated the center of a great, open field. The edifice sprawled from a central spire, with smaller towers visible among the palace’s distant grandeur. Link supposed that if there was a ruling power in this land, its hand extended from that place.

Hills and other rises interrupted the scene to Link’s left, behind which he could see icy mist eddy around the summits of red, flat-topped mountains. To the northwest, Link saw more hills and, for a split second, something massive in the air. Before he could blink and refocus on the phenomenon, it was gone.

Frowning at his own fancies, Link turned his gaze to the other side of the castle. Beyond it and to the northeast reared a mighty mountain of smoke, stone and fire. Wherever he was going, Link doubted it would be there.

Turning to face more eastward still, Link beheld two mountains smaller than the volcano, but still massive in their own right. One appeared slightly shorter than the other, with only a narrow divide between them. The larger of the two, which sat to the south, trailed off into a much larger and rockier range than its smaller sibling.

Link’s visual track of that range was interrupted by a much closer object, and a man-made one at that. At the bottom of his hill’s eastern slope, beyond a small pond, sat a building. It was old and decayed, and Link doubted very much that it was still used for whatever its original purpose had been. What that was, he could only guess, but the front spire and gable roof gave Link the strong impression of a place of worship.

All of these observations failed to recall anything to Link’s absent memory, a sensation that grew more alarming with every passing moment. The world he could see was vast, his place in it forgotten. Is there some place — or someone — waiting for me out there? No one answered, not even the mysterious voice from within the chamber, and the silence seemed almost stifling.

I need to find someone, Link thought anxiously. Someone who can at least tell me where I am.

The castle was far too distant and off the plateau, besides, leaving only the ruined building east of the hill. Perhaps someone could be found there. Refreshed with purpose, Link started down the hillside path. He had only just begun his descent before discovering the object of his search.

Halfway down the path, sheltered under a lean-to of stone, sat a man by a fire.

Link wondered whether the man had seen him appear only to turn and hide behind a nearby boulder. A brief glance, however, showed that the stranger had not moved. Link could discern little else, as the hood of the man’s cloak all but hid his face from view.

The absurdity of what he was doing dawned on him. I wanted to find someone, Link berated himself. And when I do, I hide like a flighty fool. He could not fathom why he had done so. Instinct had taken hold before thought could reason. As it was, there seemed little to fear.

If that’s the case, Link thought bracingly, there’s no point in staying here. As he rose from his hiding place, however, Link noticed a branch that had fallen from a nearby tree. It was sturdy, and roughly the same length of a short sword.

How do I know that? Link wondered. The lack of an answer did not stop him from sliding the poor excuse for a weapon over his shoulder and into his sword belt. Satisfied that he now had at least some means of defending himself if necessary, Link emerged back onto the path.

It was a short walk down to the man and his fire, and Link made sure to keep himself in full view so as not to surprise him -- or miss any surprises himself. The stranger, however, still showed no signs of stirring, except perhaps a slight shift to show he was at last monitoring his new visitor’s progress.

Link was just suppressing the temptation to reach for his branch when something else arrested his attention completely. A hot, delicious aroma had invaded his nostrils, making his mouth water insatiably. The smell’s source could only be the old man’s fire, and indeed, Link saw him holding a branch over it, on the end of which was stuck a large apple. Two more apples, already roasted, sat at the man’s side.

When did I last eat? Link wondered. Surely not since before his “slumber,” however long that had been. At this point, it felt like his stomach was as devoid of memories as his mind, and Link was desperately eager to fill both.

He could hardly invite himself to the old man’s meal, however. Link was close enough now to see that the old man was indeed observing him from underneath his hood, though his expression did not betray whether he found his visitor to be welcome or intrusive.

Just as Link gathered himself for some kind of greeting, the old man beat him to the opportunity.

“Oho ho!” cried the old man with immediately disarming cheer. “Well met, stranger! It’s rather unusual to see another soul in these parts.”

Link could not help but warm to the old man, so enthusiastic was his salutation. His was a voice he could trust, though Link could not have said why. Now that he was close enough, Link could see amber eyes twinkling merrily underneath a pair of extremely bushy, white eyebrows. Those were matched by as impressive a beard as Link could imagine, a well-groomed mass of white blooming from the man’s face and spilling down the front of his tunic.

Link thought of returning the greeting, perhaps saying something equally friendly, but instead heard himself speak with alarming directness.

“Who are you?”

The old man paused for a moment as if considering, and for that Link was grateful. He was still savoring the sound of his own voice, which like his hunger had lain forgotten for lack of attention. It was neither high nor low, though its natural volume was softer than most. Link felt -- or at least hoped -- that the straightforward nature of his question was softened by his quiet tone.

Whether the old man thought similarly or not, he had finally decided on what he felt was an appropriate response.

“Me?” he mused. “I’ll spare you my life story. I’m just an old fool who has lived here, alone, for quite some time now. What brings a bright-eyed young man like you to a place like this?”

Link was not offended at his question being answered with a question. The old man was surely under no obligation to divulge more than he felt comfortable. That was just fine with Link, for he planned on exercising the same liberty. Who would believe him, anyway?

“I’m only just passing through as well, though I admit to have lost my way,” Link replied truthfully. There was no need to lie when it wasn’t necessary. In any case, the old man still invited his confidence in a way he couldn’t quite explain. “Could you tell me where I am?”

“You are in luck then, for I am one of very few who live here!” the old man responded good-naturedly. “This is the Great Plateau. According to legend, this is the birthplace of the entire kingdom of Hyrule.”

Link nodded. The name of the plateau did not spark any recollection, but its logic further cemented his trust in the old man. His last did words did touch on a memory, but it was a recent one. What was it that voice in the cave had said? “You are the light — our light — that must shine upon Hyrule once again.”

What did that mean, though? How could he, himself and alone without a memory to a name only just recalled, be a light for an entire country? And why?

Link shook his head and turned his attention back to the old man, who was slowly getting to his feet. Link could see now that he was stout, with a barrel chest and stomach to match.

“How do you mean, Hyrule was born here?” Link inquired. He wasn’t sure the answer would fill any gaps of knowledge about himself, but learning anything was an improvement over what he knew now.

Grabbing a nearby staff topped with a lantern, the old man turned and gestured further down the eastward path, toward the large building Link had seen from outside the chamber.

“That temple there,” the old man began with more than a note of wistfulness. “According to legend, the creation of this world began there. Since then, it was the site of sacred ceremonies for generations. Since the decline of the kingdom a century ago, it has sat abandoned, in a state of decay. Yet another forgotten entity. A mere ghost of its former self…”

The old man trailed off with a tinge of bitterness. Looking again at the temple, Link thought he could understand. Perhaps the old man had listened to tales of the temple from his grandfather or another elder, and now that place was a crumbling reminder of those stories learned as a child. Even without knowing fully what troubled him, Link could not help but feel for this vagabond, alone in a place that had clearly seen better days.

“I am sorry, sir,” Link said, and he meant it. “You are well met. I am new here, and unfamiliar with this place.

“Think nothing of it, my boy!” the old man exclaimed, his momentary sadness quickly dissipating. “If you are new here, you should acquaint yourself with the place! There are many interesting things to see. The temple is old, but enough of it remains to earn an appreciation of what it once was. I shall be here for some time,” he added, “so please let me know if I may be of service.”

Though a shred of melancholy remained in the old man’s voice, Link also sensed sincerity in his offer. Which reminded him…

“Thank you, sir,” Link responded. “That is very kind of you. I was wondering, if, perhaps…”

Even as he struggled to put his hunger into words, the old man apparently saw the object of Link’s ravenous gaze.

“Oh, please, help yourself!” the elder warmly invited. “An apple and an open flame are small things to share amongst friends.”

Again offering his thanks, Link bent down and retrieved one of the apples that lay near the fire. It was still warm to the touch, and he immediately sank his teeth into the first bite of food he could remember.

Hot, bubbling heaven erupted in his mouth. Link wondered whether anything could compare to the explosion of flavor they carried. Ignoring the pockets of heat that seared in his mouth and the juice spilling out of it, Link tore out ravenous bite after ravenous bite, nibbling all but the most stubborn strings of the fruit’s meat before ruefully tossing the core aside.

Without thinking of how it must look, Link allowed his gaze to find and linger on the remaining apple by the fire.

“Oho ho!” exclaimed the old man again, though with much good-natured humor. “Hungry, are you? Go on then, help yourself. Have two more in fact!” he added, removing the apple from his cooking stick.

Link gratefully accepted, tucking one away in his haversack with one hand while hurriedly transferring the second apple bite by bite to his mouth.

“There are many more apples — and mushrooms as well — in the Forest of Spirits south of here,” added the old man kindly. “You can also find wild boar should you have the desire for meat and the means to hunt it. Again, I wish you good luck. I look forward to seeing you again.”

And with that, the old man sat down again, contentedly rustling out another apple to roast and leaning his back against the inside of the lean-to.

“Thank you…” Link began. He had been about to address the old man by name, but realized he did not know it. Now that he thought about it, the old man had not once asked for his name, either. Feeling that there might be a reason behind foregoing such an exchange, Link let his thanks trail off, and saw the old man nod in response even as his eyes closed contentedly.

He had just turned onto the path when Link suddenly became aware of a soft, repeating noise coming from the slate on his hip. He looked quickly over his shoulder, but the old man’s back was to him and he appeared to have slumped further against his resting place. Perhaps he was sleeping.

Satisfied with his privacy, Link removed the slate from its belt hooks and brought it up to his face. The black surface once again flashed a blue eye sigil before it was replaced with what Link immediately recognized as a map. It was black and bore no details aside from being divided by blue lines into several different regions. The smallest of them — which was near the center of the map — contained the only details of note: a small blue diamond, a pulsing yellow arrow and a blinking, gold dot to the arrow’s northeast. Turning to face that direction, Link immediately saw the arrow also turn to point toward the blinking dot. He, then, was the arrow. If he had to guess by its location in relation to himself, the diamond must be the sleeping chamber.

On a whim, Link touched the diamond with a finger. Slanted blue words instantly appeared next to it: Shrine of Resurrection.

Had he been dead then? Link debated whether or not that could be true, then decided there was no way of knowing for now. He tapped the yellow arrow and, sure enough, the words “Current Location” appeared next to it. Finally, he tapped the golden point. “Follow the Sheikah Slate.”

What kind of object was this? Link could think of nothing that brought such living detail to life. And why had the slate been kept with him in the “shrine”? More questions with no answers readily at hand. Was he doomed to know nothing for himself?

Raising his eyes from the slate, Link gazed northeast, where the blinking dot’s real-life counterpart should be. Judging from the distance between the shrine and his arrow on the map, his destination was not far ahead. The path continued to the bottom of the hill, with occasional groups of wide, crumbling stairs jutting out from the grass that had conquered them. Beyond a flat stretch of brick, grass, and dirt, a sizable dirt mound rose to the height of a large tree. Deciding that must at least be near his destination, Link replaced the slate on his belt and set off northeast.

The old man smiled as he watched Link’s reflection on the glass window of his lantern. The boy had paused on the path for a good five minutes before eventually moving on. Had he set off in the wrong direction, the old man would have been forced to intervene on some pretense. Luckily, that had not been necessary. Link had, as usual, known what to do.

The old man chuckled as he watched the distorted image disappear from the lantern face. A century’s churning had changed much, but Link appeared — at least at first glance — the same as ever. He had always been a boy of few words and much action. That much, at least, remained the same. How he might have changed remained to be seen.

His eyebrows furrowed at that last thought. It seemed that Link truly remembered nothing. That much had been expected, true, but to see that blankness staring him in the face was something else entirely. Could the boy do what needed to be done if he did not possess the most essential knowledge of all?

He would find the truth eventually. The old man was determined to reveal a good part of it to the boy himself, but being told something paled in comparison to the power of discovering it -- of knowing it -- for oneself. Link would need that before the end.

Rising to his feet, the old man saw with satisfaction that the boy was about to run into an early reminder of who he was. That would do for now. Seizing his lantern, the mysterious elder allowed himself another smile, then vanished in a swirl of blue-green flame.