The sun shone through the foliage of the forest in bright ribbons, cascading through the canopy onto the ground below. The leaves danced gently in the breeze, reflecting their color and painting the area in a green ethereal glow. It was a soft, warm wind that tickled any in its path as a gentle touch from a mother would. The trees themselves were spaced far apart from each other giving ample room for sunlight.  Grass and fern littered the ground below wherever they could grow, but remained short and sparse enough to allow passage. This was not natural nor was it the norm.<br/><br/>The lost woods, as the citizens of Hyrule have known the area, was anything but beautiful or safe. Dead foliage and greenery encompass the entire forest, and since history began no man, woman, or child that has entered past it's borders has ever come out again. They simply vanish, giving the place its name. All who enter become lost. Because of this little history has had little effect on the wood, remaining almost unchanged for millennia, until Ganondorf finally came into power. His dark powers having the same effect upon the outskirts as the rest of the land, nothing was safe from his influence after all. Brambles replaced gentle bushes, and the trees shed their leaves, yet grew further still, fed by malevolent energy instead of the sun which had ceased shining upon this cursed world. A new more fitting name would certainly be given to this wood had there been a populace to do so, but no being had set foot near the wood since the collapse. The place all but forgotten to history.<br/><br/>Within the boundary of the wood, the fog was thick and almost suffocating. The white mist seemed to always be moving, changing, and adapting to its surroundings, yet remaining unaffected by the wind. One could almost think it were a physical force, alive, as it was difficult to see anything at all in its thickest concentrations within the forest. The whispers heard upon the wind only helped enforce that theory. Never clear, as if just out of earshot, they would nonetheless be heard. In ancient times some claim they were guides to exit the wood, while others claim they led careless adventurers to their doom. Regardless of their intent, it was impossible to understand their mumbling.<br/><br/>Deeper still the forest became thicker. Stout trees growing so tall, the fog made it impossible to see even their branches. A temple of wooden pillars and brown, hard earth. These were not average tree trunks however. Twisted, gnarled and misshapen things they were, the bark peeling and flaking. So many disfigurements and shapes could be discerned, it was grotesque to say the least. Worst of all were the faces. Upon closer inspection one could see a face, twisted into horror, rage, or other various emotions, grown into the hulking trunk. They gazed endlessly into seemingly random directions, giving the constant whispers a focal point. It was maddening.<br/><br/>This was the legacy of the great lost wood. Untouched by Ganondorf, but not unmarred. For unknown to most of the citizens of hyrule, this forest was a sacred place. Far within the fog and twisted trunks, a path was clear. A hint of green along a shallow cliff, and then something no creature in Hyrule had seen since Ganondorf's return. The warmth of sunlight. The trees opened up to the green tinted glow of it, revealing a clearing that would hitch the breath of any peasant or king. It was framed by the shallow cliffs surrounding it, and the thick canopy of a massive tree at its center. Not unlike those great faced pillars outside, there was a clear face upon this grand tree, but unlike them it was serene. Calm and unmoving, it watched over the area with an endless gaze.<br/><br/>Below, one could see stonework. An odd sight to be sure in such a natural setting, but few would assume that this beauty could have grown naturally in such a time. The shape of three triangles could be seen with a stone pedestal at its center. One could instantly recognize the design as the holy Triforce. This was indeed Sacred ground.<br/><br/>Finally, below one of the massive outstretched roots of the great tree, there sat a man. A single Hylian man. Surrounding him were countless saplings and shrubs stretching to the edges of the clearing and even growing on the very roots of the great tree. He sat upon a stump untouched by time, speaking constantly and looking at each plant in turn, as if talking to a crowd. His face showed deep care for his audience, smiling gently as he continued. He was older, his white facial hair made that clear, but made no sign of showing it other than that for he wore enough gear to weigh down the average peasant. With each move he made to accent his story, the jingle of chain mail could be heard within his green tunic, and the crinkle of leather sounded out with each shift of his fingers. For any to come and see him in this state, they would most certainly assume him mad, yet he remained. The single living soul within the Lost Woods.