Link scanned the horizon, standing just inside the gates of the castle town. The day had dawned clear and cool, with a slight breeze; just the right weather for traveling. To his side stood three desert horses, chosen by Ganondorf's critical eye. In fact, he had purchased all their supplies, down to the gourds of water hung on the horses wherever they would fit.

The air smelled of warm soil and distant flowers; Link inhaled deeply, eager to get out on the road again. Zelda, adjusting the saddle on her horse, gave him a knowing smile. "Chomping at the bit, are we?"

He laughed. "Me, or the horse?"

"Both." She glanced around. "I wonder where he is?"

"He said something about getting different clothes. I hope for our sakes he's not getting something extravagant just because he can. He practically grabbed the money out of your hands when you pulled off that story about being a long-lost whatever-you-are."

She shrugged. "I don't think he's going to buy fancy clothes. He's got other things on his mind."

"You're going to roast in that." Link jumped upon hearing Ganondorf's gruff voice behind him. He hadn't noticed the man walking up to them; the dark warlord wore flowing robes of tan and light brown, with sandals on his feet instead of boots. Din had given him a younger body than usual upon his request; he was only in his late twenties, just ten years older than the other two. On his back he carried double scimitars instead of his usual longsword.

He frowned at Link's usual tunic and chainmail. "Your fabric is too thick, and that mail will heat up like a poker in a fireplace. Plus you don't have any cover for your face and arms."

"I'll be fine," Link assured him. "It's not like I never go out in the sun." He jerked his thumb back at Zelda, who wore a modified version of the Shekiah uniform; it covered most of her body, but fit much more loosely.

Ganondorf rolled his eyes. "Burn, then," he grunted, throwing one last pack onto his horse.

"You've still got that metal crown in your hair…not to mention all the hardware attaching it to the jewel on your forehead," Link pointed out. "Why do you wear all that, anyway?"

With thinly veiled impatience, Ganondorf pointed to the jewel. "This is a symbol of status among the Gerudo. The more important the person, the more intricate it is. If I'm going to ask people living in Reylisia to come back with me to that pile of rocks I grew up in, I had better look like I know what I'm doing."

They set off, with Ganondorf in front and the other two side by side. Zelda watched the countryside go by, happy for once not to be fulfilling obligations and following arcane prophesies. Very rarely did she get a break of any kind, usually forced from birth to set the course for the next phase of the Endless Cycle.

She turned back to Link, who caught her eye and smiled. In their many lifetimes they had been together, apart, and together again; yet the two seldom got any time to simply be among one another. The two held a bond stronger than death itself, calling it love would be a trite, pitiable description.

There was, of course, that third wheel. "Why are you dawdling?" Ganondorf yelled down at them from the top of a hill. "This is a mission, not a leisurely ride among the butterflies. Get a move on!"

-&-

The bridge over the canyons still existed; it had been rebuilt and repaired many times, as the kingdom needed it for the travelers and traders who passed near or through the desert. A number of little settlements dotted the Wasteland, around its few oases; the Gorons sometimes traveled among them, being used to heat and subsisting on rocks.

After a narrow passage, they came to the area that had once been the Gerudo Fortress. The gate to the Wastelands gaped open; the stout wooden doors had long since rotted away. Huge chunks of the wall had been bitten out by the harsh winds. The living quarters were now mere foundations with stony rubble piled in and among them.

"Stop here," Ganondorf ordered. The other two reined in their horses, and watched as he dismounted, walking toward the ruins.

"What are you looking for?" Link called after him.

"Never mind. I'll be right back."

Ganondorf walked to the edge of the ruins, stopping at the foundation of what had once been living quarters. A broken plate and rusty spear, half-buried in the dust and sand, were all that remained. The eerie screaming of the wind off in the distance clashed with the warm memories of this place, of crackling watch-fires with gossiping guards beneath them, the squeals of children as they ran in circles on the hard-packed ground. He closed his eyes and drew from memories of lifetimes ago, still as clear as they had happened yesterday…

-&-

"Yaah! Get him! Knock him down!"

The little knot of five-year-old girls cheered on their friend as she scrabbled in the dirt with the young Prince. Both sported bloody knees and elbows, but neither one cared for both were on the edge of victory. Ganondorf dug his heels into the ground as the girl threw her weight against his shoulder. At the last moment he spun on his heel and the girl sailed past him, landing hard on her stomach.

After a few exclamations of surprise, the group of girls pounded him on the back in congratulations; he extended his hand to his fallen sister, for there was no shame in losing to a worthy adversary, with the winner expected to abide by etiquette. Gloating was reserved for those who did not deserve respect.

His playmates scattered after that, not interested in another game. Ganondorf walked slowly back to his mother's chambers, hoping perhaps there might be a bit of food left for him. It had been weeks since the last successful raid, and they had been surviving on pounded cactus and fried termites. His stomach growled, but he had long since learned to ignore it.

The smell of food greeted him as he walked in the door. His sister Atrayu, who had been sick for several days, lay in bed with the uneaten food sitting on the table beside her. Ganondorf's stomach growled louder and his mouth watered, but he didn't move.

He stood there for several minutes, turning over logic in his five-year-old mind. I shouldn't take food from Atrayu…but she's sick, so she probably won't want it and it'll just go to waste…if Ma catches me she'll whip me for sure, Prince or not. But she won't miss a little bit, surely…?

Taking a furtive look around him, Ganondorf tiptoed to his sister's bedside and watched her thin blanket rise and fall with her breath, which rattled loudly and echoed in the small room. He stood for a while, uncertain, and then his eyes slowly moved to the bowl of porridge. Just one bite…she'll never miss it…

Heart pounding in both anticipation and trepidation, he raised his hand, held it hovering over the bowl for a brief moment, and then dug in. He licked every drop from his fingers, then stood very still for the next several moments. Suddenly he reached for the bowl and lifted the entire thing to his lips.

Something cracked against his head and he slammed into the wall behind him. His mother stood over him, a wooden spoon in one hand. "How dare you steal food from your sick sister!" she shouted, loud enough for everyone in the compound to hear what he had done. She grabbed him by the fabric of his clothes and pulled him out of the room, ignoring his furtive apologies. "If you're going to act like an animal, you sleep outside!" She kicked him out and slammed the door behind him.

"Ma!" he shouted in protest, but knew better than to expect any pity after such a sin. He curled up on the ground, feeling both guilty and angry.

He slept fitfully; the desert always became cold at night, and the watch guards would only laugh at him if he sought warmth from their fires. Being Prince, the sole male and future King, didn't give him any privileges as far as childhood discipline was concerned. This was not the first time he had been punished in this way; and not by far the only Gerudo child to ever experience it. He thought angry words at his mother, as well as his own stomach for driving him to temptation.

Suddenly he heard joyful shouts off to his left, near the gate that faced Hyrule. He jumped up and ran through the alleys of the compound, coming to a stop at the gate, where the latest raiding party displayed their newest gains.

"Elder Sister!" He ran to Nabooru, who stood flushed with success after her first raid, in the final stage of adulthood training at twelve years of age. She wore jeweled necklaces and bracelets she had stolen to display her skill. Upon catching sight of him, she lifted him up with a whoop.

"How is my favorite Little Brother?" she asked. Ganondorf laughed despite it being a tired old joke.

"I missed you, Elder Sister." He hugged her as tightly as he could.

She put him down on the ground and faced him. "What would my Little Brother like?"

Remembering his manners, Ganondorf replied, "Nothing for me, thank you, Sister."

"No? Such a selfless little Prince you are." She beamed happily and he squirmed, still smarting from the incident before. Nabooru pulled something from one pocket, a shiny toy soldier wearing the ensign of the Hylian knights. "Here you go, Little Brother."

He squealed in delight and kissed her lightly on one cheek, then ran off as Nabooru's friends came up to congratulate her.

"Ma! Ma!" he yelled, as he got closer to home. He had already decided not to keep the toy soldier for himself, but to give it to Atrayu. Surely this prize would more than pay her back for the bit of porridge he had stolen.

The door to his home already stood open.

He halted, sensing something was wrong. As he crept toward the door, he heard the soft, low sound of his mother's sobs. Fearfully, he peered inside, just in time to see Nayana, the guardian of the Spirit Temple, pull the blanket over Atrayu's lifeless face.

-&-

Ganondorf knew those bites of porridge had not caused his sister's death; and yet, as he stood facing the gutted remains of the fortress, he wondered if it had not been prophetic. It would not be the last time he had given himself over to hunger and greed, not the last time his sisters had suffered for it.

I have feasted upon those whom you left to starve when you embarked on your fool's travails, and also upon those who suffered in the wake of your destruction. Now you will truly understand the torment that I unleashed on the others.

Famine's words echoed in his mind. He gritted his teeth, staring down at the ground, not wanting to face the sorry remains of his once-proud, once-powerful race. The sun glinted off something half-buried in the sand, and he reached down to pick it up.

A rusty toy soldier, with an arm and a leg missing.

He knew it could not be the same one. He had flung that one down from atop the cliffs, not wanting to touch it after losing Atrayu. Besides, he later found out they could be bought for a few rupees from any of the Hylian shops. Still, he hid it in his cloak, to keep as a reminder if he ever strayed from his mission.

"Hey, I thought we were in a hurry!" Link yelled from atop his horse. Ganondorf frowned like a thundercloud, then turned back to continue his journey.

-&-

Sandstorms usually plagued the Great Wasteland, but not today. The sky remained clear, the sun high and hot. Ganondorf took heart in the fact that they would make good time. Link, however, was not as happy.

Early on he had to take off the chainmail burning into his skin, just as Ganondorf had predicted. He didn't like the exposed feeling of not wearing armor, but it was either that or dump water over his head, and he knew he couldn't waste their water that way.

Soon afterward, his tunic heated up, and even after taking off his wrist guards and boots he was still too hot. He took off the tunic and hat, ruffling his hair so that the breeze could get in. Every ounce of moisture on his body evaporated in a matter of minutes, and he was loath to put the tunic back on.

"You're going to get sunburned if you ride around like that," Zelda warned.

He fanned himself with his hat. "I know, but I'm roasting out here. Aren't you hot?"

She motioned to her clothing. "The light-colored fabric keeps the sun off. Do you want some of mine?"

"Okay."

She dug into the pack behind her and tossed him a light shirt and hood made of silk. "Aren't the Goron mines just as hot?"

Pulling on the clothing, he noted with satisfaction that the smooth, silk-like fabric cooled him considerably. A good thing, too, as his shoulders had already started to redden. "They are, but you could move out of it as you went from room to room. Granite is a pretty good insulator."

They rode on in silence for maybe half an hour, their guide seemingly not taking any notice of them or their conversation. Zelda scoured the countryside for something interesting to look at, but found nothing other than sand and a few grottoes of rock.

"You'd think there'd be scrubs, or buzzards, or bones out here," Link commented, as if reading her thoughts.

"This is the start of the badlands," Ganondorf called over his shoulder, startling the other two. "It should only take half a day to cross. Then comes the scrubland, which is more like the area around the Gerudo fortress. Then it's badlands again, and after that I don't know. I've never been that far."

"Why bother coming out here?" Link asked.

"It is part of adulthood training," Ganondorf replied. "Every Gerudo goes through it at the age of twelve."

"What? Every kid has to ride through the desert like this?"

"Not ride. Walk."

Stunned, he turned to Zelda, who nodded and gave him a little smile. "Why are you surprised? You've done lots of dangerous stuff by the age of twelve."

"Yeah, but I don't know of any other twelve-year-olds who make it their business to explore dungeons and fight monsters." He turned back to Ganondorf. "What else do Gerudo kids have to do?"

"Lots of things," he said lazily, though his voice betrayed his pride. "Most can handle a sword at six years of age…they'll have hunted a bit with small bows, after jackrabbit and gila…it's a kind of survival training. They don't spend the whole time alone, though. The children take on the voyage in groups of three. It's up to them to find food and shelter."

"Food and shelter? Out here?"

"It's easy to find…if you're properly prepared and know what you're looking for."

Link stared out at the endless hills of sand and wind-scarred rocks, and shook his head.

They said nothing for a while, but the pressing silence was too much for the two Hylians to bear. After humming to herself, Zelda began singing a lively tune about the summer festivals. Since their guide made no comment one way or another, and Link nodded in encouragement, she started another breathy, haunting song about waiting for lost love under the evening stars. Her voice drifted eerily through the silent, sun-parched landscape, very out of place and yet strangely appropriate.

At the end, she turned to Link. "It's so dry, I don't think I can do another one, right away. Why don't you give it a try?"

He thought for a moment, then launched into a jaunty barroom tune about drinking ale and kissing pretty girls. It only lasted a few bars; the mere mention of drink made his mouth taste of dust in the forbidding heat. So he switched to a sad song about an adventurer who loses his way in a dark forest, the words hinting that he eventually becomes a ghost. His lower, stronger voice carried farther than Zelda's, but it still clashed painfully with their surroundings.

"Do the Gerudo have any travelers' songs?" Zelda asked their guide. She meant it as an open invitation.

"Yes," he replied shortly.

"Well, what are they?" Link asked him.

"I don't sing." His tone was final, and they left it at that.

-&-

They reached the scrublands just before sunset. As Link pulled his tunic back on – already chilled in the dying heat – they entered an area blackened by a recent fire. Ash rose from the ground with every step of the horses' feet. Rocks poked up from the dirt like warts on a frog. And yet, to his surprise, Link could see bright red and gold sunburst-shaped flowers on some of the charred bushes.

Stopping abruptly, Ganondorf announced, "We'll camp here for the night."

"Why here?" Link demanded. "We're in the middle of an ash pile."

"That's what makes it a good place to camp." He pulled out a bedroll of woven rushes and tamped it down on the ground, waited for the dust to settle, then spread out a blanket over that. "This time of year, there are frequent brushfires, and they can move faster than a horse can run. We need a little fire to cook, and keep the night pests away."

Zelda examined the flowering bushes. "Did these actually survive the fire?"

"Yes and no." Ganondorf dug a little ring in the dirt and threw charcoaled brush into it, then pulled packages out of the foodbag. "Those are not flowers. They are seed pods. They depend on fire to open them. They will introduce new growth."

Link fingered his sword hilt. "What kind of 'night pests' are we talking about?"

"Nothing big, though you'll want to be careful anyway. Snakes, scorpions, bloodsucking insects…the fire should keep most of them away."

The two Hylians watched silently as their guide threw dried meat, grain, some dried herbs and a bit of water into a skillet, holding it over the fire. "What?" he demanded.

Link snickered. "I didn't know you could cook."

Scowling, Ganondorf growled, "There aren't any inns out here in which to buy food. No servants to cook it for you either," he added with a sideways look at Zelda. "You want to eat, you have to make the food yourself." He pointed to the foodbag. "But I bought Hylian food for you, because I know you'd just starve if I didn't."

Link and Zelda found dried beef, bread, and cheese; all suitable for traveling, and certainly better than what Link was used to eating on long campaigns. But as they chewed their food, savory smells from the fire kept wafting over to them.

"You've got your own food. This is mine," Ganondorf snarled as they both stared at the skillet.

"Could we just taste a bit?" Zelda asked in her politest voice. "I've never eaten Gerudo cuisine."

"You won't be able to handle it. It's very spicy."

"Sure we can," Link insisted.

Looking as if he was being asked to hand over his left ear, Ganondorf offered the skillet to each of them in turn. "I'll warn you now," he said slowly as they brought the small morsels to their mouths, "You're not getting any extra water."

Link popped the rubbery-looking substance in his mouth. It had a deep, flavorful, rich taste and he chewed happily – for the first few seconds.

"Aaaaaauuuuugggghhhh!" Link clamped his hand over his mouth, Zelda quickly following suit. He felt like had swallowed molten lava. Red-hot knives pierced his tongue, the roof of his mouth, his throat. He downed all his water but it provided no relief. He could see Zelda turning purple next to him.

Ganondorf laughed softly. "You can drink all the water we have and it won't help; but the bread will." He tossed a loaf to each of them and they dug in.

When he had recovered the ability to talk, Link demanded, "Why would you want to eat something like that?"

"Because it would taste like dung if I didn't. There's a lot of things that are edible but not eatable, if you know what I mean," their guide explained. "Sometimes drowning it in spices is the only solution."

"I'll take the first watch," he volunteered as the other two laid out their own sleeping pallets. Link felt uneasy at this, his subconscious mind unwilling to let its guard down in such close proximity to his longtime adversary. But then, he was in no more danger than he had been in Onima's house. If nothing else, Ganondorf could be trusted to protect that which supported his own interests, and right now Link fell under that category.

Even so, he spent a good deal of time with one eye half-open, watching the fire reflected in the dark warlord's yellow eyes. Ganondorf glanced up from time to time, hearing a noise here and there, but for most of the night he seemed to be in a state of deep reflection.