Author's Note: …Wow. It's been, like forever. Well, after what must be two years, I'm back! And suddenly inspired o.o Anyway, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of "Most Desires". Credits go to Cerena Montanyu (Whom without, the ideas for my characters would never have been.) and Wintyr Feanim (Whom helped me out with a few things.), just wanna say thanks. ^-^
Most deserts are dry, hot, and tiring. The land of the Gerudo was no exception. The sun was at high noon, casting its rays down upon the barren land. It also happened to be a windless day. Quite an unfortunate situation, if anyone was to pass through.
"…Screw the sun." Toranpu Shikon commented idly, for he just happened to be passing through the Gerudo Desert. The young man tilted his head back to watch the clouds passing overhead. He had a fair complexion to him; it was surprising he didn't burn under the scorching heat. His eyes were a dark blue hue, one might call them 'Midnight Blue'. His hair was also dark (and considerably long), it was a lighter tone of black, and it fell to just above his knees. He was muscular, and had a slight mature appearance, suggesting his age to be in his early twenties.
Clothing wise, he wore a tight white tank top. This particular top slanted inwards near his chest, revealing most of his shoulders. It also had a turtleneck like neck, but it was wide and ended just before his chin. Black leather pants covered his legs, the clothing itself somewhat loose for leather. Slung around his waist was a black belt, designed in a criss-cross, 'X' like pattern. Attached to this belt was a hakana. Or, a piece of cloth placed around the legs, but left open in the front. This particular hakana was pure white, and its length was so great, that the material trailed on the ground behind him as he walked. Over the white one, was a much smaller version that was blue with thick black trim, and white designs. Under the white hakana, was another belt, more normal. It was left open, but attached to it was another, slightly longer then last hakana. It was pure black with a blue diamond pattern for trim.
For accessories, he wore small black gloves, but over them, identical black gauntlets. Black boots, with a type of gauntlet armor over them, protected his feet. From the gauntlet on his right arm, two small brown ropes traced up his arm, but stopped before the shoulder. Attached to the back of the first belt, was what looked to be a premature version of a scabbard. Slung in this scabbard was a nasty looking black sword. Finally, a small, golden Celtic cross (attached to a gold chain) was strung around his neck.
Sighing heavily, he jumped down from the boulder he was sitting on, and continued along his way, following the posts sticking out of the sand. A few monsters erupted from the sands, in attempts to claim his soul. Of course, a few swift strikes of his blade, and they were down for the count.
Finally, after what seemed like hours on end, Toranpu reached the small stretch between the vast desert (which was now, thankfully, behind him) and the Spirit Temple. He observed the shrine with a small look of amusement. He'd seen better. But still, to carve something that big in a mountain, mostly by hand… Shaking it off, he crossed the short stretch of sand. As he approached the small stone slab before the temple, a group of Leevers burrowed up from the sand, and snapped their pincers, poised for attack.
"Give me a break." Toranpu rolled his eyes, instantly hold his sword in both hands. It took much practice to be able to arm himself quickly. Holding out the sword horizontal to himself, he closed his eyes. From around his feet, small spheres of black light swirled around him, before entering the sword, giving it an eerie black glow. With a grunt, he pointed the sword downwards, and impaled it into the sand. No more then two seconds later, blasts of shadow energy erupted from under each of the monsters, instantly sending them to an early grave.
Sheathing the sword, also in record speed, he entered the hollowed halls of the temple. Upon entering, he took note of a few things at once. First, were two identical mirrors, framed in what looked to be frames resembling snakes. Second, two small jars suddenly flew at him, which he had just managed to dodge. And finally, third was that four Gerudo warriors, all in identical transparent pink and non-transparent white cloth, all suddenly baring twin swords, all dangerously pointed at him. He took a sharp breath.
Suddenly, a small platform levitated downwards from the ceiling. On this small, square platform was an elegant woman. Her long, raven hair was piled in all kinds of exotic styles. Two longer 'clumps' of hair fell to frame her face, those wrapped in silver ribbon slightly. Her gown, for that was what she wore, was a pitch black, with violet trim, patterns, and tassels. She wore makeup not unlike her warrior companions, and her slightly tanned skin confirmed that she was also one of the desert people.
"Lower your weapons," she spoke in a light voice, while all at the same time, elegant and firm. "I have sent for him."
"You sent for me? Geez." He sighed, releasing his held air, "Couldn't you have sent like, a horse or something? Do you know how hot it is out there?"
"Nave!" one of the warriors took a step forward. "Hold your tongue before her highness!" While they had put away those swords, those girls still looked pretty deadly.
"It is quiet alright, Matahome." The lady of elegance said softly. "I suppose I should have thought ahead. My apologies." She curtsied. "I am Lady Kumo Seppun of the Gerudo and the desert."
"Don't give a keese who you are." He responded shortly. "Just tell me why I'm here."
A growl resounded from one of the warriors.
"Blunt and to the point. Perfect." Kumo stepped down from her now-descended platform. "Of course, but if I may, could we return to the training grounds? I'm rather fatigued."
"I am NOT crossing that wasteland again." He crossed his arms.
"I would not expect you to." Kumo smiled. "I shall teleport us there." With that, she clasped her hands together in a prayer gesture. From under her, black light expanded to coat the room. It stayed that way for a moment, before the spell seemed to go backwards, the light retreating back under her. As it did so, the scenery showed the inside of her chamber in the training grounds, where is where they now were. "Oh…!" Kumo swayed slightly, falling back to land in her chair.
"My lady!" All four warriors cried, rushing to her side. "You shouldn't have done that!" The one, Matahome, scolded her superior. "Your powers are already tired from praying to the Sage…"
"Of course…" She held her head lightly. "I am terribly sorry, but could I ask you to spend the night? I am rather exhausted. We could talk tomorrow…"
Toranpu sighed out of annoyance. "Fine, whatever." He turned to go.
"One of the Gerudo will show you to a room…" the tired lady smiled weakly. "Oh! I did not catch your name…"
He stopped in the doorframe. "…Tora." And he left.
---
"Here is your room, sir." A Gerudo opened a metal door, revealing a decent room. It contained a bed, a small dresser, and a chair.
Without even thanking the poor woman, he entered the room and slammed the door in her face. Sighing, he looked around the room, and spotted a small, square window on a bare wall. He peered out it, and saw many Gerudos outside. Some stood guard, others walked around aimlessly, and some exiting another door, looking beat up, but overly happy. He sighed, watching the sun set beyond the mountain that blocked his view of the Hylia Lake. When it went down fully, he continued staring out of his hole in the wall, before deciding it was time for bed.
Yawning, he undid the belts at his waist, removing the hakanas and draping them over the chair. He did the same with his tank top, after removing his chain. Kicking off his armored boots and gloves, he gently laid his sword down across the seat of the chair. Now clad in only his pants, he crossed the floor. Pulling back the covers on the bed, he climbed into it, wincing at its not-so-soft feeling. Sighing again, he rested his head on the softer pillow, and slowly fell into a dreamless sleep.