Weak Flesh

Long have I been trapped between worlds. How could it be that I, Ganondorf Dragmire, King of the Gerudo, Bearer of the Triforce of Power, Lord of the Desert, King of Darkness should fall so many times to mortal hands? That question has dominated my thoughts for an eternity. Here, sealed in the sacred realm and chained between the three ever-burning lights of creation, there is nothing else to think of.

Then one day, I finally realized why. Funny, isn't it? I finally get the answer to the question that's defined my existence, and I am unable to act on it. My rage that day was terrible, and even the goddesses themselves heard my roar and trembled. The chains that bound me stretched from my exertions. But still, I could not get out.

I consoled myself that one day, some idiotic green-clad child would inevitably draw the Master Sword, again, and my chains would be unlocked. He always does, and he always will. Well, until I finally kill him anyway.

Now, I am free, and it is time to take my final revenge. A river of fire separates me from the laughably predictable Gorons. I clench my fist, calling upon my Triforce of Power. It's natural now, just like commanding my foot to kick a disgusting peasant from my path.

An ancient terror slowly emerges from the flaming depths, coiling itself as it rises. It has been sleeping for over a millennium, but the Gorons remember. Oh yes, my pet has been carved into their walls, their pottery, their thrones, even into their very hearts. Volvagia's is not a face one forgets, not once he has been unleashed upon the world.

I hold the dragon suspended in the air, rotating about himself. They know he will be revived at my command. Their fear is intoxicating, but I cannot indulge myself. Not today. Today, I am here on business.

I have my list of demands prepared; it floats over to the elder. The old Ganondorf would have blathered endlessly about what he wanted and how he was to get it. Now I know better. Now I simply take. The old Goron leads me to his chambers, and I sit on his throne while I await the completion of my project. Just a few weeks more, and Hyrule will finally fall to the terror of the desert.

It really is amazing what fear can do. The Gorons finished a full two days ahead of schedule, and their work is magnificent. My creation stands half as tall as Death Mountain itself. It has eight arms, each with a different weapon for me to use. There is an opening all around the head, allowing me to see anywhere I wish. The three legs will becomes wheels at my command, propelling my far faster than would seem possible. And every last bit is made of solid iron.

"You have done well, my friend," I tell the elder. "This truly is a masterpiece."

"A masterpiece that the hero will soon destroy," he mutters. The poor fool, thinking I can't hear him. I let it slide; I may need his help again.

"It is a pity we have to live in such hostility. I really do admire your work. Perhaps once I've won I'll set up base here. After all, Death Mountain is a rather fitting name for a King of Darkness, don't you think?"

He glares at me. "We have done your bidding. Now leave us in peace, as you promised."

"Just as soon as I complete the ritual." I have no patience to teach him a lesson. It is time to conquer Hyrule.

I failed before, despite the power of the Triforce, because I was still a Gerudo. The goddesses can only give me so much power. Once I have it, it is up to me to stay alive. As they say, the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. The solution, of course, is to eliminate the flesh.

I clench my fist, and my world explodes. I feel extreme pain, yet I feel nothing at all. I panic as I recall the feeling. I am trapped again in the Sacred Realm with the three infernal lights.

No! No, I will not have this. I removed my spirit from my body on Death Mountain, so I cannot possibly be anywhere but Death Mountain. I am Ganondorf Dragmire. I caused the goddesses to destroy their own creation. I will not default to the Sacred Realm. I am Ganondorf Dragmire. I refuse to go back. I am not a prisoner. I will, therefore I AM!

My eyes open again. Transfer successful. The input is overwhelming at first, but it soon succumbs to my power. For the first time in my life, I can see everywhere. It is amazing. The Windmill of Kakariko continues on in front of me, while the smoke of the Goron's forges inside the mountain rises behind me. I can see it all. No one can sneak up on me, ever again.

I try walking. My first step comes down too hard and gouges a hole in the mountain. I smile inwardly, for I cannot actually smile anymore. I have no lips.

With my steps growing ever steadier, ever more confident, I descend on Kakariko. My ax chops the windmill cleanly in two, and my mace quickly stops up their new well. A red-haired woman flees from me with her infant clutched in her arms. With my free hand I grab her by her shirt and lift her up to face me. It only takes a couple of shakes, and she drops the baby. It falls on another peasant. I doubt either will live.

I place the woman on a ledge overlooking the town. She, at least, will survive this battle, this slaughter, forced to live with the sad fact that her precious baby is dead because she couldn't hold on well enough. I turn back to the city and continue its destruction, awaiting the inevitable.

It comes after only an hour. That idiot boy on his idiot horse. At one time, his blue eyes stared defiantly into mine. No longer. He can't even get up that high. I see him pause. I see his legs shaking as he approaches me. Even his horse has the sense to run away.

I swipe at him with my sword. He backflips away and lands with a bomb in his hands. It is no threat to me. I let it explode harmlessly on my shell and strike with my mace, flail, and ax all at once. They bounce harmlessly against his magic shield. No matter. Magic only lasts so long, and then he's mine.

After my last attack, he turns and flees. So even the avatar of courage is afraid of me now. Some hero. I take my time following him; he will run out of breath eventually. It does not matter whether I catch him next day or next week, for he is already defeated.

As he runs, the boy pulls something from his belt. I can't see what it is, but he raises it to his mouth. Probably a potion of some sort then. I didn't think he'd tire out so quickly. This would be easier than I thought. Easy to the point of boring even. I am very close to being disappointed.

After another minute, the boy turns and smiles up at me. I stop abruptly. He clearly has something planned, and I'd like to see what it is before I kill him. He raises his hand to his mouth, and I finally see what he's holding: the Ocarina of Time! He plays something I can't hear. A flash of light, and he's vanished.

I stand in the middle of Hyrule Field, puzzled. The boy wouldn't be so smug about running away. He was far too proud for that. So why did he really leave? As I think, the sky darkens. Rain splashes off my iron body. Is this it? Did he think he could summon up a storm and rust me into immobility? The fool. Rust is nothing compared to the Triforce of Power.

Wait. Oh no.

Oh, dear Goddess of the Desert, no.

I duck, but too late. The storm has found me. Lighting cascades through my body, bringing me to my knees. The boy emerges from the Castle Town and walks calmly up to me. His defiant blue eyes stare into mine. I've lost. Again.

The boy stands there, playing that hideous song on that hideous ocarina. Each repetition intensifies the storm, and more lighting floods my body. Water falls in my eyehole and adds to the torment. Again, as before, the last thing I feel is pain. The last thing I see are his cold, blue eyes.