Prologue
His heavy footsteps echoed throughout the fortress, subtly signalling for his thieves to make way for their king. His people, the gorgeous Gerudo, loved and respected their ruler… all save for one, a girl who covered her distaste for her king under a thin veil of composure. She still bowed to him when he walked past, but while her head was dipped low, concealed by the shadow of his enormous frame, she would sneer. Her name was Raneem, and she was one of the youngest warriors amongst the Gerudo tribe. She had seen seventeen summers, though every season felt the same to her in the blistering heat of the great western desert.
Raneem kept her eyes respectfully lowered as the king passed by her side. He was close enough to smell; smoke, Gerudo chilli peppers, and old sweat. He must have come from his chambers, Raneem thought to herself, her eyes following his cape as he turned a corner and disappeared. No doubt Hana is making her way to the bathhouse, albeit yawning. Hana was known to warm the king's bed whenever he could not sleep. She was one of his favourites, apparently. Raneem frowned. Not long after her thirteenth summer, she had begun to question the way her sisters viewed King Ganondorf. They held the utmost respect for him, as was to be expected of his people, but it went beyond that. On occasion Raneem had overheard her sisters gushing about the deep lilt of his voice, and the way his muscles glistened with sweat in the afternoon sun while he was sparring. Raneem was old enough to understand their interest in him physically, but as for anything excluding lust she had no idea what her sisters saw in their king. They would be thrilled to be summoned to his chambers and spend the night there; they felt great honour to carry his child… and Raneem couldn't comprehend why. The man was heinous.
Yet he was their king. His word was law in the western desert, and his wrath was death. He ruled his people as any general would command his army, and the Hylians were no allies of the Gerudo. Wars were often and petty, barely worth the title of war, but they had plagued the two races since the ages of darkness.
The feud extended to the heavens as well, if the pious type were to be believed. Supposedly the animosity between the Hylians and the Gerudo were a mark of fate; Din, the Goddess of Power, moulded the desert lands upon which the Gerudo tread. Farore and Nayru, the Goddesses of Courage and Wisdom respectively, created the lush, mountainous lands of Hyrule, from the snowy peaks to the deepest rivers. Din, Farore and Nayru were sisters, and sisters fight. Peppered throughout both Hylian and Gerudo religion, it is said that Din created the Gerudo in spite of her sisters Farore and Nayru. Henceforth, hostility between the races was inevitable.
Even so, Ganondorf, King of the Gerudo, was not a man to sit idle. The civil wars between the Hylians and the Gerudo were more often than not spurred on by the decisions made by the leader of the Gerudo, not some meek rivalry between sisters in the sky.
It was almost dawn. The last of the stars were quickly fading as pale morning light slowly seeped into the Gerudo Fortress. Raneem quickened her pace to her post, winding through the stone hallways as her sisters slept comfortably in their beds. She had the morning watch – she would stand for four hours with a spear in her hand, watching the eastern border and the distant hills of Hyrule. It was a post Raneem actually enjoyed, for she was able to watch the sun rise as well as beat the worst of the day's heat.
The sand shifted under the soles of her slippers as she claimed her post, Iman stifling a yawn as she passed her spear to Raneem. After a quick good-morning, Iman made her way back into the fortress, her night shift officially over. Raneem gripped the spear tighter as she straightened her back, her eyes to the east. She had chosen to wear red today; last night the sunset had been as crimson as blood, and the desert girl took that as an omen from Din.
Raneem knew deep down that it was only a matter of time until the Hylians had had enough of the proud desert dwellers. Ganondorf was always giving them cause to complain, and the Hylian Army had the Gerudo outnumbered ten to one.
Raneem released a deep breath, her eyes tracking the sun's ascent into the eastern sky. "Dawn of a new day," she murmured.