"When I was little, my father would tell me stories about a mute they called The Hero of Time. Whenever Hyrule was in danger, the hero would appear and vanquish the darkness. As a child, the stories captivated me. As an adult, they became just what they were; stories... until the other day that is. I was out collecting truffles for my beloved when I heard something shatter. I cautiously searched for the cause of the sound when I came upon an empty hut. Inside, there were pieces of pots scattered all around. In that moment, I thought back to the stories my father told me and how they always had one thing in common. The hero had a bad habit of smashing pots in search for rupees. I shook my head and laughed at myself, but then I heard the bushes rustling outside. I ran back out and caught a glimpse of the boy's blonde hair before he was consumed by the surrounding vegetation. Could the stories be more than just stories? Does Hyrule need the hero once more?"