The first thing she noticed was the heat. It felt like she was suffocating. Slowly she forced her eyes open. Not dead, at least, even if her head was feeling like it was about to split in half. Why did she feel so ill and why was it so damn hot? She cautiously pushed herself into a sitting position on the wooden slab she had been laying on, flinching as the chains around her wrists clanked loudly, echoing between her ears. Someone called out in a language she didn't recognise, a woman it sounded like. She looked through the bars of the cell at a red haired woman wearing light weight clothing, her skin being revealed. The prisoner placed her bare feet on the cold stone flooring. It took her a couple of minutes to find her voice because of how sticky her mouth was.
"Where am I?" She croaked. Her guard looked at her with cold eyes, but didn't answer. The prisoner frowned, confusion fogging her thoughts. Where was she? In trouble, obviously, but why? What had she done? How had she gotten to wherever this place was? And who was she? This last question stuck in her mind and rolled over and over again, not fading or yielding any answers. She looked up as a tall, muscular man walked into the dark room, seeming to take up the whole space with his commanding presence, though she would have called it arrogance rather than anything else. He asked her something in the language she didn't understand and she shook her head apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're saying." The man sighed.
"You people never do see the point in learning other culture's languages. I asked you who you are." His voice was deep and imposing.
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know."
"How can you not know who you are?"
"I don't know who I am, don't know where I am, don't know where I'm from, don't know anything really."
"You'd better not be lying to me donskachi." The man growled. She laughed slightly and stood up, her chains rattling.
"Why would I lie to you? I don't even know who you are." The man stepped forward so he could look at her closer, trying to decide if she was lying or not.
"I am Ganondorf, king of the Gerudos." He said.
'Well, that explains the attitude problem.' The prisoner thought. She shrugged.
She shrugged.
"Means nothing to me, your highness."
"Interesting… you've lost your memory."
"No, really? Well, thanks for telling me or I would never have guessed. So, you've been asking me a lot of questions, my turn to ask you a few. Where am I?"
"In a cell."
"Is there no limit to your intelligence? A cell where?"
"Do not speak to me like that."
"I would not speak to you in such a way if you did not speak to me in such a way. Now answer the damned question."
"Why should I do as you say? You do not order me around."
"Because I am scared and have no clue where I am or who I am or even what I am. And you're appearing to be about the only person who can give me some answers."
"Then you're going to have to wait." Ganondorf smiled cruelly.
"At least tell me what race I am or where I am must likely from." The prisoner pleaded.
"You are a sheikah, donskachi."
"I'm guessing that 'donskachi' is an insult?"
"So you do have some intelligence." Ganondorf said before leaving the room.
"Well… I don't want to be called 'donskachi' if it's an insult… Oi! Ganondorf! Come back here!" She threw herself at the cold metal bars and clung to them, the bars rough beneath her fingers. Ganondorf didn't come back and she sighed.
"I just wanted to ask you to call me Karrah." She said, pulling a face. She got the distinct impression that Ganondorf didn't like her.

Karrah looked up as the cell door was opened. A woman walked in and reached out for her, keys in hand. Karrah held out her wrists questioningly and the woman turned the key in the lock that kept the chains securely fastened on her wrists.
"What's going on?" Karrah asked. The red headed woman said something that sounded harsh and unnecessary in response and Karrah caught the word 'donskachi' in the middle of it. She scowled.
"There's no need to call me that, you know." The woman pointed her glaive at Karrah and motioned her to move.
"Why should I? As far as I can tell I'm going to be killed anyway, so why should I do anything you tell me to? Just kill me now, because I don't want to spend the next how long in this cell with a bucket of my own shit, thank you very much." There was a deep rumbling laughter and Karrah looked out the cell at Ganondorf. He seemed rather amused.
"What's so funny, oh most regal majesty?" She mock bowed and he scowled.
"Come. I wish to talk to you donskachi."
"No thanks. As far as I know there is nothing to talk about, except you stopping calling me 'donskachi'. I don't know what it means and I can't understand the language that you speak, but I know it's an insult and I seriously don't like it."
"I do not care what you do and do not like."
"Yeah, I gathered that. Hey, watch it, lady!" Karrah glared at the woman who was poking her with the glaive.
"Then come and talk with me. Look at it this way; at least you get away from your bucket of shit." A slight smile creased Ganondorf's lips and Karrah had to admit that he made a valid point. She sighed and walked towards him, her bare feet slapping quietly on the stone floor.
"Why do you want to talk to me?" She asked.
"Because you are… an interest object, as far as sheikah go. For one thing, sheikah aren't usually as quick to catch on to things as you seem to be." He said. Karrah was slightly insulted about being referred to as an object and she scowled.
"That your opinion or is it a fact? Or do you simply not know many sheikah?"
"I do not answer to you, donskachi."
"Of, for crying out loud!" Karrah stopped, her hands placed on her slender hip, "Stop calling me 'donskachi'! Honestly! If you're gonna call me anything, call me Karrah."
"Where'd that name come from?"Ganondorf asked, stopping and looking at Karrah with interest. She shrugged.
"Sheikah. 'Kah' on its own sounds weird. 'Karrah', has 'Kah' in it and doesn't sound too bad."
"Seems logical enough."
"That's what I thought." Karrah relaxed and Ganondorf started walking again, Karrah not too far behind him. She thought for a moment and then cleared her throat.
"So… what did you want to talk about?"
"Can you remember anything at all?"
"I can remember how to walk and talk. Does that count?"
"Not really as those things would simply have become habit for you. Do you remember any people, faces?" Karrah was silent, simply trying to think and remember.
"I can remember someone talking to me, but I don't know what they were saying or who they were, or what they looked like. And why am I telling you all this? It's obvious you don't like me or my people, and I feel like I shouldn't be trusting you, so why am I? And… and do my people hate you like you hate them?"
"Our people have hated each other for many, many years."
"Why? What reason is behind this hate and what purpose does it serve?"
"The sheikah serve the royal family of Hyrule and Hylia, the goddess. For some reason the young child princess of Hyrule doesn't like me and so her nanny hates me and my people."
"Well that's pointless. As far as I can tell you both just hate each other based on what this princess feels about you. Where's the logic?"
"Who ever said it was logical?" Ganondorf pushed open a door and motioned for Karrah to enter. She looked up at him and then entered the room silently.
"Are our people at war?"
"Yes. That's why you were in that cell, because I cannot trust you."
"Why didn't you just kill me then? If we are at war it would have made far more sense."
"That is enough questions for now. Sit."
"No, I'm fine standing thanks." Karrah folded her arms and glared up at Ganondorf. He did not look impressed.
"Sit. There is something I wish to try."
"You're not the boss of me, and I do not wish to be experimented upon." Ganondorf scowled and took a step forward, towering over Karrah.
"Sit… down…"
"I said no, but thanks anyway." Karrah was a bit frightened by Ganondorf. Alright, a lot frightened, but she was determined not to show it. She wouldn't let him know how scared she was and she definitely wasn't about to do as he said. Ganondorf looked like he wanted to hit her, but he didn't. Instead he stepped back and left the room, not saying anything. Karrah heard a key turn in the lock and knew that she wasn't free. She had simply traded in her uncomfortable cell for this room. At least now she was more comfortable, judging by the seats around the place. She sighed and looked around, her gaze lingering on her reflection in a mirror. Her eyes were rather large on her face and red, red like the colour of blood, very noticeable. Her hair was cropped close to her head and straight, pure white in colour. Karrah was quite tall and very slender without much of a figure. She supposed she was quite plain actually, and she found it strange to look at herself, so pale in contrast to the others in this place, so tan with red hair and yellow eyes. Karrah walked over to the mirror and reached out to touch its surface, wondering about what those red eyes had seen over the years.
"Who are you?" She asked her reflection, sighing. She was lost and had no idea who she was or where she was from, if there was anyone missing her. And it bothered her. She looked down at her long, narrow fingers and thought of all the things that she may have forgotten, feeling strangely void of all emotion. She looked over at the seats and made her way back over to them, throwing herself carelessly into one and letting sleep consume her.