Ganon's Tale

   "That impudent whelp!" bellowed Kotake, back within the desert Colossus. "The ungrateful cur!" Clearly seething with impotent fury, her frustrated tirade was punctuated with bursts of flame, expelled outward without regard. Koume wisely held her tongue, occasionally dodging a wayward incendiary. Each one burst against a surface - walls, floor, ceiling - in a shower of sparks, leaving random scorch marks throughout the chamber where the sisters currently held council. Gradually, her invective began to subside, and with her diminishing fury so, too, did the pyrotechnics slowly ebb.

   Koume took the opportunity to settle in upon the floor, reaching wordlessly into one of several suede pouches lashed to her robes. Chanting softly, she tossed her hand into the air, releasing a dozen small, assorted bones. They hovered for a moment, then the old witch uttered a final emphatic syllable - "Ka!" - and made a sweeping downward gesture with the same hand. The bones tumbled to the floor, jostling for a moment, before coming to rest.

    Unable to resist, Kotake had stopped pacing and shuffled over to where her sister sat, peering silently over her shoulder at the seemingly random array. Both remained nearly motionless, scrutinizing where they had landed, when Koume let out a gasp.

   "There, sister, do you see it?"

   "What? I don't... ooh, wait, I believe I do..." she reached out with her left hand and extended a single digit, pointing at what appeared to be (and was) a child's finger bone, balancing gingerly on its' side, almost (but not quite) resting against a bone that had come from the wing of a raven.

   "You see, sister?" pressed Koume, smirking slightly as she collected the lot. "Have patience. We will see that Nakori gets hers, and we will have that which we seek."    "We have waited some 400 years," mused the other crone, withered hand stroking her chin contemplatively, "what is a few more...?"

   The pair shared a raucous cackle, already laying plans for their vision of the future.

   **    **    **    **    **    **    **    **    **

   The years passed swiftly, as they often do. Nakori taught Ganondorf to read & write; how to hold and use a sword; how to shoot a bow and arrow; she raised the developing king of the Gerudo with grace and civility. She also sent him to his lessons with the Twinrova, though each time she did with a sense of foreboding. Each time he returned with what she could only describe as a dark, cloudy smudge in his demeanor. In time it would fade, and he wold again be himself, but with each visit, each 'lesson' with the witches, it seemed to take longer, and longer, leaving him brooding and moody until it dispersed.

   "I do not entirely trust the Twinrova." Nakori confided one day. She was perched atop the lookout tower guarding the gate to the deeper desert and the desert Colossus. "I fear what they are teaching him..."    Mokeeru stood alongside her, digesting the words and considering them carefully before responding. "You may be right to worry." she finally conceded. "I know that the Twinrova are supposed to be tasked with the welfare of the Gerudo, but there is something... unnatural... about them."

   Nakori nodded, brow creased with worry. She held a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun and scanned the horizon, searching for the dark spot that would be Ganondorf returning from his 'lessons'. Still not spying him, she sighed loudly. Mokeeru grasped her shoulders and turned the other maiden to face her.

   "They may be strong," she began, "but a mother's love is stronger. You may have no gift for sorcery, but you have the gift of Love." She stared into Nakori's eyes, her unflinching gaze boring straight through to her soul. She stared back at Mokeeru, accepting the assurances and warmth of her dear friend.

   "Thank you." she said simply, sincere gratitude apparent in her tone. Her gaze lingered another moment before a flicker of movement in the direction of the Colossus drew her attention aside. Again shielding her eyes, she could make out the silhouette of her son soaring over the desert upon one of the witches' brooms. Her smile widened as she looked back to Mokeeru, who smiled back in turn. Nakori practically flew down the ladder and sprinted back to her dwelling to meet him. The faint smell of brimstone informed her that he had already landed, and that Kotake's broom had already been dismissed.

   The maiden drew aside the leather curtain and entered, but abruptly stopped. There at the foot of his own bed sat Ganondorf Dragmire, the anointed king of the Gerudo; her son, now 8 years of age. His entire body was limned in purple/black flames, which did not seem to burn him or his surroundings, but felt almost sentient, and malignant. In one hand he held a ball that appeared to be made of the same stuff. As he sat there, with his back to his mother, he tossed the ball of dark flames to his other hand, then back again. Back and forth. Back and forth.

   Nakori shuddered and took a tentative step back; as she did, Ganon whirled around, the hand holding the flame ball drawn back to throw, teeth bared in a maniacal grimace, golden eyes blazing. She froze, as did the boy, clearly torn. They both held for what felt like an eternity; then, he started to sway, his eyes rolled up into his head, and the dark flames outlining his form winked out. He fainted, the ball of fire striking the floor and sizzling there a moment before disappearing with a low 'fwumph' and a wisp of black smoke.

   Ganon hit the floor as well, his head fortunately striking the woven rug rather than the bare stone. Nakori rushed to his side, lifting him and cradling his head against her breast. She felt around for any major trauma and, finding none, sighed with relief. They remained so for several minutes before he gradually came to.

   "M... mom?" he asked groggily. "When did you...?"

   "Just now my son." she replied. "I found you on the floor and was worried you'd hurt yourself."

   "My head hurts," he conceded, rubbing his eyes with one hand, "right here."

   She looked him over again, paying particular attention to his eyes. Seeing nothing amiss, she informed him as much. He attempted a meek smile back, though it was short-lived.

   "I think... I would like to rest." he muttered, rubbing between his eyes. Nakori smiled and nodded, nimbly rising to her feet and laying her son gently into his bed.

   "Take your rest my son; tomorrow we will be traveling to Hyrule Castle town, along with Mokeeru and a few of the other maidens."

   "I thought they were evil?!" he asked, some measure of his fatigue apparently forgotten.

   "No, they are not evil, though there are undoubtedly evil men among them... where did you hear such a thing?"

   "The Twinrova told me that all people who are not Gerudo are evil, and that the Hylians banished us to the desert. They say that is why Hyrule is rich, and we must struggle. They say..."

   "Ganondorf!" she interrupted him. He quieted immediately, eyes wide as she continued. "The Twinrova do not know everything, my son. Yes, Hyrule has prospered, and yes, our way of life is more challenging; we were not, however, banished here, we were led here by our Goddess, and we, too, have flourished, though perhaps not in the same way." Ganon, enraptured, listened intently as his mother proceeded. "The people of Hyrule are prosperous, and because of their easy life they are soft. Many of the Gerudo resent them for their easy prosperity, and I can see why; but if anything I pity them more."

   "Why do you pity them mother?" he inquired.

   "Because of their softness." she responded without hesitation. "When your life knows little or no hardship, you never have cause to become better, stronger - you become lazy. To my mind, that is not a life I would want."

   Ganondorf sat, contemplative, absorbing her words. "Then why are we going to Hyrule town?" he asked at last.

   A wistful smile tugged briefly at one corner of Nakori's mouth as she reflected on the question. "Occasionally, " she began at length, "there is an exception. Even against a posh upbringing, some become exceptional." A look of contentment decorated her features as she reminisced. "Your father was one such." She looked back at Ganondorf, still smiling. "Perhaps I will tell you more of him another day. Suffice it to say, we go to Hyrule occasionally to look for comforts we cannot find here." Her smile took on a mischievous edge and she added "of course, we also sometimes go to grant some of the... softer... citizens a little bit of hardship."

   Ganondorf nodded as though he understood perfectly what she meant. 'He may very wall have!' she thought to herself as he stretched and yawned, his weariness returning to carry him off to slumber. Nakori stood, suppressing a yawn of her own as her son drifted swiftly to unconsciousness, and wandered back out into the village. 'Perhaps Mokeeru may be up for some... comforts... tonight...' she considered, turning back toward the tower where she would be finishing her watch. 'I shall have to see...'