Jaeil Jahan

Of My Blood Book One

Jaeil Jahan By Alunaer

Of My Blood Trilogy by Shekiah and Alunaer

DISCLAIMER: I do not own, completely or in part, The Legend of Zelda series. This belongs exclusively to Shigeru Miyamoto and Nintendo. Wish I
did though . . . oh well. Can't have everything in life . . . oh, and a
reference to The Phantom Tollbooth is made here.

Chapter One: Eeeeehhhhh . . .

The moonlight was eerie and cold. A few dozen stars scattered themselves across the black void of the night sky. Their light reflected off the high walls of Hyrule's lonely ranch. Lon Lon Ranch, home of the famous Lon Lon Milk.

If you looked closely at the wall, you could see a slight shadow was constantly moving. However, look even closer and you would see the outline of a small girl, whose long red hair clashed vibrantly with the night shadows.

She was inching towards the top of the wall, which was protected by tall stone pikes whose spaces were purposely thin so that an adult Hylian could not pass. However, we are looking at a Gerudo child, the famous all-female bandits that roamed Hyrule Field, fleecing anyone stupid enough to travel unarmed and crushing any resistance.

Slowly, so as not to lose her place, the girl grabbed at a space between the pikes. With a low grunt, she hoisted herself up into the crack and swung nimbly onto the ground inside the complex . . .

Actually, that is how it was supposed to go. What really happened was this . . .

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"Ah, crud. What do I do now?"

Jaeil Jahan Dragmire, thirteen-year-old Gerudo princess, was stuck. Everything above her waist was clear of the wall, but her lower half was hanging outside the ranch's eastern wall. It was quite a long drop from up here to the ground (thank the Goddesses that Jaeil wasn't afraid of heights), and she was not about to slip from the top and fall on her thieving behind. Jaeil groaned and kicked the wall. That being said, she didn't manage to do anything except acquire something else to groan about. The decorative neck-and-shoulder guard piece she was wearing (which was meant for her to wear when she actually grew taller than four and a half feet; as such, it was much too wide for her now) didn't help any, either.

After several minutes of frantic kicking and struggling, Jaeil collapsed and smacked her forehead into the wall. "Damn," she cursed viciously. This was really beginning to get on her nerves, and she was hot-blooded and impatient by nature. Jaeil looked down at the ground again. She wasn't unduly worried.

She just prayed fervently to the Goddesses that nobody on either sides of the wall looked up.

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Finally, Jaeil found the solution. By twisting her body so that she was lying on her side, she was able to slip through the bars. There was, however, one factor she had forgotten about . . .

The drop.

Jaeil fell nearly forty feet onto her back. Besides the new pain, she was also covered in horse crap.

"Crud again." Jaeil paused for a moment, brushing off the muck, as she realized the irony of this statement. She scowled. Not funny.

Even covered in horse dookie, however, Jaeil was astonishingly quick. Vaulting over the closed gates, she sprinted towards the corral. A few soft whickers and snorts told her that there were still at least five horses in there—maybe even more. Jaeil smiled. This, she thought, is my lucky day. I come for horses and I have horses. It's like a buffet. Still smiling, she clambered over the wall and landed without a sound inside the pen.

Her estimate had been correct; there were, in fact, five horses running free. However, there were also seven more mounted warhorses with their silent riders perched upon them. Jaeil's mouth went dry. What the . . . ?

Her confusion was cut short as the riders moved to surround her. Jaeil looked from masked face to masked face, searching for a way out. Unfortunately, there was none to be had. The would-be thief decided that this called for drastic measures.

Jaeil threw herself at a smaller horse, putting all her weight and strength behind it. Her body crashed into its left foreleg; there was a nasty crack and the horse screamed. It bucked wildly, thereby injuring itself more, but the real misfortune came to the rider. When the horse bucked, the rider was thrown forwards and crashed headlong into the wall. Jaeil grimaced. "That's gonna hurt in the morning . . . "

Further comments were stalled as two horses broke the ring. Their riders reached out to grab Jaeil but were eluded. Eventually, all but one rider had been thrown into the walls when Jaeil had used herself as a battering ram. The remaining rider dismounted and circled Jaeil warily.

A thunder of hoofs broke the silence, except for the whining horses. Eight more riders thundered into the ring and skidded to a stop before the Gerudo princess and her opponent. Slowly, they dismounted. One of them, an impossibly tall rider, stepped forward and lifted off their black helmet. Blazing amber eyes stared Jaeil down.

"What in the name of King Ganondorf were you doing just now?"

A stern voice, sharp and commanding, snapped out the question. Jaeil's eyes widened in fear; this was her all-powerful cousin Damare, her elder by ten years. Her response came out a squeak, albeit a somewhat dignified one. "Hey, I'm a thief. What do you think I was doing here?"

Damare rolled her eyes and snapped, "Do you realize what you've done?"

"Yes. I broke the legs of several horses (nearly killing myself in the process) and their riders were bucked off. They are now unconscious—"

"Dead."

Jaeil paused in the middle of a word, her eyes taking in the scene around her. Some of them had skidded in the dirt and ran headfirst into the walls. Jaeil swallowed numbly; she could see trickles of blood smeared on the walls and the ground.

"Ah. I see your point." The last line came out a faint whisper.

Damare glared. "You'd better, Jaeil. If I don't see you back at the archery range in six minutes—" Damare paused for effect. "—you're dead."

Jaeil snapped up indignantly. "Don't even try to talk to me like that, Damare!"

"Watch me," the tall woman snarled. She was about to say something else when a ranch hand came in to clean the horse stalls. Seeing the large group ahead of him, he was about to yell for the ranch owner when Damare drew a dagger and casually threw it over her shoulder. It flew the distance to the ranch hand and buried itself up to the hilt in the man's throat. Gargling, he fell over and landed, dead, with a soft phlump on the grass.

Damare turned and swiftly swung herself onto her horse's saddle. With a signal, the rest of the group gathered all the bodies and thundered out of the ranch, leaving a bewildered Jaeil alone. Grumbling, she grabbed a slight black mare's halter and swung onto her back. However, there was one little problem . . .

She had no saddle. Moreover, Jaeil absolutely could not ride bareback without disastrous results.

She barely had time for a muffled curse before the mare took off after the others that had left.

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The meeting on the target range was saturated with horror. After it was all over, Jaeil walked away in a daze. Back towards the central compound, one of her friends, a lightning-fast girl named Yarael, caught up with her. Apprehensively, she asked, "So . . . how did your hearing go?"

"Heard about that, did you?" Jaeil asked bitterly.

Yarael's face was concerned. "It didn't go so well, eh?"

"Couldn't have been worse."

Yarael nodded sympathetically. "I heard Damare yelling at you all the way across the compound. Damn near made my eardrums shrivel up and fall out." She grinned wolfishly. Jaeil smiled, imagining everyone within a hundred- mile radius falling to his or her knees and writhing in pain. Yarael broke into her thoughts as she pressed on; "So, how DID it go? From your point of view, I mean."

Jaeil retold the story; how she had come up to the grounds, how a committee had been waiting for her . . .

And how she had been charged . . . of murder. Apparently, the seven riders had been sent to bring her back before she set off the booby trap that they had planted, and she had fought them. Six had died—the sisters Darein, Mharea, and Kaerha, the cousins Kaora and Vareyn, and finally, the orphan Zaneiri. The last name had been a shock to Jaeil; Zaneiri was her very first and very best friend, hardly fourteen.

She had killed them all. However unintentional that might have been, the court still convicted her of murder. Maybe that was because the leader of the group was a sharp, thin-nosed woman named Arenth. A year ago, Jaeil had accidentally dumped the entire cauldron of stewed gakkow onto her head. Besides lunch being ruined, Arenth had to throw away her favorite jacket; no amount of dry-cleaning was going to get it clean again.

"I found that murder charge extremely unfair. Let's review; it was close to 1 AM and they were wearing masks and hoods, so how in the Goddesses' names was I supposed to effing know?"

"Beats me."

Jaeil nodded curtly. "Thank you. But now they're deciding on my sentence."

"How about, 'I am'? That's a short sentence . . ." Yarael's feeble attempt to make light of and joke about the situation was lost on her friend. Finally, Yarael snapped.

"Come on. They'll probably just have you work your butt off at the Colossus for few months and then something else. I mean, it is you and all, and your da' is going to be rather displeased if you died while doing your penance."

"That isn't the half of it." Jaeil's father, the great Ganondorf, doted on his children (well, the ones that he actually noticed . . .). Jaeil happened to be the eldest of all of her half-siblings, and so she was highest favored and she knew it (but just because her father favored her didn't mean she didn't have to work at all; Jaeil's had her fair share of scrubbing pots and sweeping out the whole Colossus too). This didn't exactly help her when jealous siblings' parents attempted to poison her, though.

The two friends walked towards the central compound, where breakfast was most likely being served. Jaeil inhaled deeply through her nose as a delicious, slightly spicy aroma wafted by. "Smell that?" she whispered. Yarael sniffed the air.

"Yeah."

Jaeil grinned. "Bet you five Rupees that it's stewed gakkow and spiced with firepepper."

Yarael grinned. "You're on! I say that it's spiced noodles and meat pie!"

The two girls, giggling and raising the stakes, waltzed into the central room. By the time they reached the food line, the money had risen to forty- five Rupees. Curiously, they peeked into the big pot. Long, crispy noodles sprinkled with a red, powdery spice were boiling in the huge vat, and small, doughy pies oozing sauce were sitting beside the pot. Yarael grinned triumphantly. "BWAHAHA! I WIN! Where's my money, pince-nez?"

Jaeil grumbled, digging in her seemingly endless pockets for a fifty-rupee piece. Handing it to Yarael, who tossed a five-rupee bit back to Jaeil, she said under her breath, "Call me pince-nez again and I'll set Nabooru on you. I don't walk around pinching people's noses. My step-grandmothers do that." Yarael merely smiled wider.

They managed to find an unoccupied table squashed in the corner to eat. News of Jaeil's hearing had obviously gotten around, because she heard snatches of her name in everyone's conversations. Yarael must have noticed, too, because she shot a sympathetic look towards Jaeil. The Gerudo princess was staring at her food as thought she could command it to fly across the room and hit some offending people in their lying faces.

Yarael poked her friend's shoulder fearfully. Irritably, Jaeil looked up. "What?"

Yarael was too scared to answer. Instead, she pointed to the entryway.

Six guards, holding sharpened spears, flanked the door. One of them walked over to where the two frightened girls were sitting and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

The tall woman loomed threateningly over Jaeil and Yarael. Looking down at Jaeil, she motioned for her to follow. Turning, she marched back to the other guards and waited.

Jaeil rose shakily. Yarael mouthed a silent 'bye' as Jaeil was swiftly herded out the door.

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Back at the target range, the same committee was present. Apparently, they had reached a decision. Arenth, the Gerudo who so detested Jaeil, rose and voiced her verdict.

"Princess Jaeil Jahan, daughter of the great Ganondorf, we have reached a decision. We have reviewed the evidence testifying against you, which stands thus . . ."

Arenth sat, and another, younger woman rose. Jaeil recognized Damare's sister, her other cousin Teiya. Jaeil had never cared for this cousin much; Teiya had a snobby, whining voice and thought she was better than everyone else was.

Jaeil's dislike was multiplied by a tenfold as Teiya began to read the charges.

"Charge One: Failing to submit to the wishes of a guard team. Charge Two: Injuring six prize warhorses. Charge Three—" Teiya's eyes glimmered maliciously. "—killing six members of the guard team intent on your personal safety.

"As such, we have deemed that the appropriate punishment is . . ." Teiya paused for a moment, relishing her duty. Jaeil glanced at the sky and prayed for a year of cleaning the Colossus, or a year of kitchen duty, or . . .

"Exile."

Jaeil's mouth dropped open. Exile? What the hell are they thinking?

The Gerudo princess was beginning to feel the cold fear snaking through her. A month, or even half a year, out of the fortress was fine, but they weren't permanent.

Jaeil decided to accept this decision with grace, but instead blurted out, "WHAT?"

Teiya smiled coldly. "A life for a life." She paused. "Well . . . sort of."

Jaeil was so paralyzed with fear that she could only nod. Walking away, she heard a low murmur of voices. Damare caught up with her. Looking up, Jaeil could see true sorrow in her eyes. Damare spoke softly, as if afraid of being overheard—"Listen. We're going to lead you off the bridge tomorrow. If you can, smuggle as many weapons as possible out—I don't want you unarmed. Later, if you see any of our patrols while you're out there, stay out of sight. A few here'd like nothing better than to trample you accidentally."

Jaeil looked at fierce-faced Damare for a moment. "Why are telling me all of this?" she demanded. Damare had never cared much for her ten-year- younger cousin.

Damare breathed in. "You're the only one who's shown me a hint of respect around here, even though you're a few seats higher up than me. Everyone else calls me 'the kid commander' and makes wisecracks about it. You don't."

Damare ended this by looking far off into the distance. Suddenly, she looked back at Jaeil. "You'd better pack," she said. "I'm not going to be responsible when you get killed because you were unarmed." Without another word, she raced across the sands and into the Gerudo Training Ground, leaving Jaeil staring after her.

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Jaeil was led out of her quarters early the next morning. Jaeil had been up even earlier to sneak into the armory, and she was quivering with nervousness as the long, beautiful dagger slapped against her leg, secured with a long piece of cord.

Four guards on horseback led her to the bridge. They had assigned her the horse that she had stolen from the ranch two nights before, outfitted with a lightweight black saddle and matching war bridle. As the bridge was cranked up, they signaled for her to dismount and walk across the bridge. Jaeil made no move to do so.

Clang!

The bridge completed its rise and Jaeil bolted across the bridge with the horse. Two of the riders made a move to follow, intending to retrieve her mount, but Damare stopped them. "Leave her. The horse will be in good hands."

The two guards turned to question her order, but Damare was already heading back to the compound. Looking over towards the place where Jaeil had gone, they merely shrugged and trotted after their leader.

What will happen to Jaeil? You can only find out if you read the next chapter!