It had been nearly two weeks since the disaster at Kakariko, but Malon could still not sleep properly. Her dreams were relentlessly horrific, filled with leering fleshless faces splattered with blood. In her waking hours, she was exhausted and beset by a dread feeling of pursuit, as though the monsters she had escaped from hunted her still. Even ensconced in Verletz's own regional command center on the front lines of Hyrule Field, feelings of safety eluded her. Her appointment, along with her commander Nabooru, to the ranks of Verletz's personal guard should have been the honor of a lifetime, leaving her overflowing with pride and happiness. Instead it gave her only a hollow sense of perfunctory purpose, not strong enough to overcome the guilt that plagued her. Had she earned this position? Perhaps, by simply surviving. But could any job, however prestigious, fill the emptiness she felt?

To survive again and again where all others perish is the cruelest of fates, she thought. The faces of her comrades haunted her. Those lucky few that had lived through the assault of the Gorons, the ravages of the terrifying dragon—that she herself had unleashed—the dark, claustrophobic urban combat of Kakariko, and the unspeakable nightmare that erupted at the hour of their triumph there...those lucky few, those survivors of the winnowing of the vast army that had once held that part of Hyrule firmly in its grasp, they were left to face the knights and pikemen of the Army of Hyrule, and dash headlong and desperate into its teeth. The narrow pass filled with the gleaming steel of Hyrule's soldiers, the only route between themselves and the rest of the Gerudo forces, no choice but to follow their great leader into the maw of death. The Gerudo did not surrender. It was not in their blood. Those lucky few to have survived the myriad catastrophes met their ends by the swords and spears of the Hyrulians, whose hatred matched their own and who gave no quarter. Frenzied, unthinking, they followed Verletz, the blazing star, whose divine magic laid waste to the ranks of the enemy with holy fire—but he was only one man. He had burned a hole through the ranks so that he and a tiny handful could escape. None could stand against him. But for him to live on, to fight and lead another day, the bloodied and battle-weary remnant behind him was sacrificed.

Malon could remember Nabooru pulling her onto a stolen Hyrulian horse. She was maddened with fear and adrenaline, the world a dull, unreal pantomime. The wounds from the terrible undead horde were still fresh on her body. She had had no right to survive the battle—but there was Nabooru's arm extended as she flew past on horseback, and the next moment Malon was clutching her commander from behind, trying to stay on the horse's hindquarters without the benefit of a saddle. She was thankful then for her lifetime of horsemanship on the ranch. She looked back to see a smattering of Gerudo soldiers who had found horses of their own following them, and yet more trying to follow the retreat towards Hyrule Field without the benefit of steeds. Unable to outrace the Hyrulians on foot, they were cut down from behind. Verletz, flying overhead, swooped low to guide the few survivors. With the powers of the Goddess, he could have vanished in a puff of flame and escaped, crossing miles in an instant through the ether. But he stayed, true to the last to the troops that worshiped him. Malon remembered his booming voice, rallying the fleeing few, commanding them to continue on towards the field headquarters. Verletz himself, once he could see that no further Gerudo were emerging from the melee behind them to escape to safety, stayed behind to cover the retreat. None of the Hyurlian army were foolish enough to challenge him. The Army of Hyrule held fast in the narrow defile, massacring the last remnants of the once-mighty Death Mountain Army of the Gerudo. Then they moved onward to secure Kakariko, re-establishing supply lines and trade routes to the long-besieged ghost city. All of the progress the Gerudo had made against Kakariko and the Gorons had been undone in a few calamitous days, the entire army lost. And yet, in spite of all, Malon yet remained.

She rose from her cot and staggered past the flap of her tent. Numerous torches and a roaring bonfire illuminated the encampment in spite of the overcast, moonless night sky. Malon longed to climb the wooden palisade and see the fields of Hyrule—from this camp one could barely make out, far in the distance, the walls of Lon-Lon Ranch, her former home. But she dared not peek her head above the battlements. She did not fear the soldiers of Hyrule, entrenched on the frontline a few miles away. But she was gripped with an uncompromising, irrational fear that she would look out over the darkened fields and see a legion of the dead—ten thousand bare bleached skulls shining in the dark, a sea of piercing red eyes hungering for death.

Shivering, Malon plodded aimlessly into the center of the camp, staring into the flames. Across from her tent was a large pavilion, light emanating from beneath the canvas, where Verletz and his advisors would meet. Over the crackling of the fire she heard voices from within, sometimes raised in anger or enthusiasm. The voices were always female. Verletz himself did not raise his voice, no matter how heated the discussion became.

At length a group of high-ranking Gerudo emerged from the pavilion, some of them still arguing about one aspect or another of the ongoing war. Malon paid them no heed, lost in bitter memories. She was jolted out of her state of distraction by a hand on her back.

"Aahh!" She whirled around only to see Nabooru beside her.

"Relax!" Nabooru cried. She clasped Malon by one shoulder. "It's me. The meeting is over."

"Oh," Malon breathed. "I'm sorry, I've been feeling a little...rattled lately."

"Din knows you have seen more than your fair share of horror," Nabooru said. "You will overcome it. You are strong."

"Th-thank you," Malon answered. "What news?"

Nabooru sighed, hands on hips. "The generals are in their usual state of quibbling and blustering. No one can agree on a course of action. The last few weeks have...well…" Malon watched Nabooru mentally attempt to find a way of euphemizing the catastrophic truth. "...They have altered the trajectory of the campaign significantly. Besides the losses in troops and materiel, with Kakariko and the Gorons no longer contained we have lost a great deal of operational freedom in northeast Hyrule. We will need to shrink our frontage with the enemy while we recover manpower and try to re-form the Death Mountain army…"

"Yes, yes," Malon said, a bit bewildered. "Does the Archon have a plan?"

Nabooru cast a glance towards the pavilion. "He is only human. He is shaken by the recent disasters, as are we all...I regret to say that he does not have a definite plan for the near future. It is unfortunate that we must rely on his military genius, since most of his advisors are egotistical and worthless. But I am sure he will find the answer."

"It's not really our problem anymore, is it?" Malon asked. "We just have to protect Verletz, no matter what."

"That's right," Nabooru said, shifting her weight in place. "Listen, why are you up at this hour?"

"I can't sleep," Malon said flatly.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Let's go back to our quarters and we can talk for a while."

"I'd like that..."

They returned to their tent, Malon taking a seat on her cot while Nabooru lit a small oil lamp, bathing the area in a soft orange light. Malon fingered the scabbed-over cuts on her arms where skeletal claws had raked her flesh. She looked up to find Nabooru sitting beside her, forgoing her own cot.

"Commander..."

"Nabooru. No need for formality."

"Nabooru...how do you cope with it all?"

"The things we've seen are far beyond anything a soldier should have to cope with," the Gerudo replied. "But we have endured it. Take comfort knowing that even the supernatural was not enough to best us."

"I don't mean that, really...I know Death Mountain and Kakariko aren't what we were trained for. But..." Malon looked into Nabooru's eyes. "It's not just that. Just the little things, the regular things...I'm not a Gerudo. I wasn't bred and trained for war. How do you handle the things a soldier should have to cope with? Killing people, seeing your comrades die."

Nabooru breathed in deeply. "We cherish our sisters in arms, we guide and protect each other. But at the same time, we know that not all of them will survive. Do you remember, in the Goron tunnels, when I executed one of my squad?"

Malon nodded. She could hear in her memory the thumping of the body as it tumbled down a shaft.

"I perceived that she was a detriment to our mission, that she was unworthy of the obligations placed on her. And I dispensed swift justice. Part of being a Gerudo is being able to accept the deaths of your sisters, and sometimes it will be you who causes them. Every commander has sent her soldiers to their deaths. It is something that we must internalize."

"I'm no commander," Malon sighed. "I just know what I have seen: people just like me being defeated, killed, butchered mercilessly."

"One tenet of the way of the Gerudo is that Din favors the strong. We cherish our comrades, but respect must be earned and weakness cannot be coddled. When we march into battle, the hymns of Din singing in our heart, we are embarking on a great trial. Those who are worthy of the blessings of Din will live, because they are stronger, smarter, more skilled and more valorous. Those who are weak, whose faith is flaccid, who cannot match the skill of their enemies, are returned to Din—we may mourn them, but we know that they could not serve their purpose for the Goddess. Rather than weep for the dead, we must celebrate the living."

"There was no affection between me and the rest of our squad," Malon said, "But I still can't quite believe...they're all dead. You and me, we're the only ones left."

"It was meant to be," Nabooru said, leaning closer. One of the elder Gerudo's hands slid along Malon's thigh. "Together we will carry on, towards whatever fate we have been saved for."

"I'm glad I have you to guide me," said Malon.

"And I'm glad that I met you, Malon." Nabooru's hands drifted to Malon's waist, gently turning her towards her. Malon blushed fiercely as Nabooru's face drew towards her. Nabooru's lips pressed softly against Malon's, and the young girl's eyes widened in shock.

Nabooru drew back, savoring Malon's cute expression of excited bewilderment.

"W-what...?" Malon squeaked, her face on fire.

Nabooru smiled sweetly. "I have fought alongside you for months. You have shown yourself to be heroic, brave, skillful in swordplay, stoic in suffering. You are devoted and loyal to our ideals, to the Gerudo dream for a new Hyrule. Your presence has brought me comfort and solace in dark times. As of late, I have found that my respect and admiration for you has turned to love."

"Love?" Malon repeated haltingly. "Like the love of a man for a woman?"

Nabooru smirked. "Not exactly. The love between a man and a woman is primitive and unrefined. It's based on an animalistic urge to breed. The love of the Gerudo is pure and beautiful. It's forged in the fire of battle, it's a bond of growth and nurturing."

Malon blinked, dazed. "I don't know what to say."

"It's hard for a non-Gerudo to really understand. It is a deep and important part of our culture."

"How can you offer it to me, then?" Malon asked. "How can I, an outsider-"

"You are exceptional."

"Are you sure?"

Nabooru chuckled briefly. "I can tell you're uncomfortable. If you aren't interested, you can say—"

"No!" Malon said swiftly. "I mean—it's so—I guess I am, a little bit. But how could someone like you be in love with someone like me? I'm so young, shouldn't you seek out someone equal to you in skill and experience?"

"I would have nothing to offer someone of my own age and rank. She would be courting someone like you."

"Really?"

Nabooru nodded. "That is the way of things. One, the older, secure in her position, with wisdom to share, will seek out another who is young and deserving of guidance and support. It is a sort of rite of passage for a young Gerudo your age to accept a lover who will show her the ways of war, of householding, religion and philosophy. In exchange the older Gerudo gains the pleasures of a young and beautiful girl, and an exceptional ally in battle."

"You mean Gerudo lovers fight side by side?"

"Of course," Nabooru said. "It is one of the most important aspects of our military superiority. How could morale be higher than by traveling and camping with lovers and their beloved? What soul would shirk from danger, what soul would fail to fight her hardest, knowing that her lover was beside her to witness her deeds? Who would not fight with the fury of the Goddess herself, seeing her beloved in danger?"

"But..." Malon murmured. "That means you might have to watch your beloved one die in battle. Watch her stabbed and pierced and torn apart before your eyes. Wouldn't that make a soldier crippled with grief?"

"Would you not prefer to die beside your lover, when it is your time to die?" Nabooru pointed out. "And no, not crippled with grief. Empowered, with vengeance. It is right and proper for a Gerudo to see her lover die, to hold her in her arms so that she leaves this world with her beloved. And then, for her to wreak terrible merciless revenge, to slay foe after foe with no regard for her own safety, to send as many of the malefactors to their doom as she possibly can before she can fight no more, and is overwhelmed: and at last, for she and her lover to perish the selfsame hour, and ascend to the arms of Din together. There can be no worthier death."

There was a pause as Malon looked awestruck at Nabooru. "You would do that for me?"

Nabooru snickered. "I'd rather live for you than die for you. But I would. Would you?"

"Of course."

"I would try not to be killed, if I were you." Nabooru stroked a few locks of Malon's rust-orange hair across the young girl's forehead. "There's no need to be morbid. We are here, still living, young and strong in a thrilling time to be alive. I want to enjoy and treasure our time together, whether that time is spent in hardship or in pleasure."

Malon swallowed. "D-do you want...pleasure from me...?"

"I want you to sleep peacefully." Nabooru gently pushed on Malon's shoulder and guided her to lie on her side on her cot. "Now you know how I feel; how we proceed is entirely up to you. That's not just because I want you to choose, it is the way of Gerudo romance. You may ask of me whatever you want, as much as you are comfortable with, whenever you are ready. I'll be here. For now, I want you to try and rest and forget what's past. I'm here for you."

Malon yawned. "Thank you. For everything."

Nabooru sat beside her, gently resting her hand on Malon's arm, until Malon was asleep. She could not control Malon's dreams, she thought, but perhaps if she could make the waking world seem more pleasant, the dreams would not be so bad.

A dozen yards away in the lavish pavilion, such comfort was denied to the leader of the Gerudo. Sleep for him as well was elusive, and though there were none near him save for the guards outside the tent, he was not truly alone. Between him and solitude was a mysterious presence in his thoughts: unlooked-for, sinister; but alluring, darkly compelling, always present, always whispering.

"What are you?" Verletz pleaded in a nearly silent whisper.

"I am all that you aspire to be and more: the greatest ruler Hyrule has ever known. Master of magic, peerless in battle, the savior of the Gerudo. I am your ambition, your unfulfilled potential. Embrace me, and triumph."

"Why do you haunt me, phantom? Why do you show me visions of a nonexistent past, an impossible future?" Verletz's fingers curled into fists against his wooden desk.

"They are not visions but memories. My memories, now your own. Memories of how I once held all of Hyrule in my grasp, how even the power of the united Triforce was nearly mine. It is a past that has been obfuscated by fearful fools, a future that you and I can achieve."

"Cease your riddles!" Verletz cried out, not caring who might overhear. "Tell me your name, wraith, and why you have chosen me to be your plaything!"

"I," the voice said slowly, "Am he who came before. I am Ganondorf, bearer of the Triforce of Power, rightful king of all Hyrule."

"By Din." Verletz stared wide-eyed yet unseeing at the inside of his chamber. "Ganondorf, who was murdered by the Hyrulians in the presence of their king? Ganondorf, the martyr, in whose memory we fight?"

"The same."

"No wonder your spirit lingers on in wrath and bitterness!"

"I do not linger, a ghost. I live on in you. Such is your privilege."

"I am honored, departed Lord, but why do you direct me in such mysterious ways? I have not your wisdom. What mean you by 'obfuscated past?' Why am I compelled to seek those two insignificant Hylians, and why do they confound me at every turn?"

"I am witness to a secret history," said Ganondorf. "While living I had no awareness of my previous life, but to the dead, all secrets are known. I will tell you."

Though no one was physically present, Verletz bowed his head. "Enlighten me, honored predecessor..."

"The moment that I was slain was the fulcrum on which history turns. A branch in a river, whence two separate streams flow. In the world in which you now live, we have traversed the branch that began with my death. But in my past lifean alternate timelineI was not slain then."

Verletz listened silently in slack astonishment as the voice continued. "I lived on, to pledge falsely to the King of Hyrule. I manipulated events such that I stood upon the threshold of the Temple of Time, ready to seize the Triforce. Two souls opened the way for me: Zelda, the Princess of Hyrule, and Link, an orphan of the forest. But as I grasped the Triforce, it split into its three elements, and each took its preordained place within each of us. To myself was drawn the Triforce of Power, to the Princess the Triforce of Wisdom, and to the boy..."—The voice dripped with especial hatred as it uttered the word—"...was given the Triforce of Courage. To claim the full omnipotence of the Triforce, the two whelps had to be slainbut at that moment Link was absorbed into the Sacred Realm, to be hidden from me for seven years. Princess Zelda, too, eluded my grasp, but with those two threats in hiding there were none capable of stopping me from using the Triforce of Power to conquer all of Hyrule."

"The Gerudo, masters of all Hyrule?" Verletz wondered aloud.

"Not the Gerudo. Me. By my hand alone I cast down the old order of the world and remade it as I saw fit. But in the end, I was defeated." The hate and bitterness in Ganondorf's voice washed over Verletz in palpable, chilling waves. "Link emerged from hiding, and Zelda disguised herself and aided him. Together they awakened the guardians of Hyrule's dead regime, the Sages. Link, the so-called Hero of Time, and the seven Sages were able to assault my fortress and combat me, but in the end even their power could not destroy me utterly. They banished me to the Sacred Realm, never to walk the earth again."

"It is an incredible tale, Lord Ganondorf," stammered Verletz. "But it did not come to pass! You are dead, not banished, your body remanded to the Desert Colossus to rest among your predecessors."

"Mark well the conclusion of this strange history, and you will understand. Victorious against me, Link and Zelda looked upon my works, and feared what they saw. In their cowardice and arrogance, the did not wish to inhabit the world that I had created, to remember a history stamped with my greatness. They longed for innocence, for their stolen youth, they longed to undo my triumph and return Hyrule to the state it was before my ascension. And so, they made their fatal blunder. Princess Zelda, seventh of the Sages, used the treasure of the Royal Family, the Ocarina of Time. She unwove the fabric of time and pulled the world back, back up the river to a point just before the fork, the moment of my death. They thought that with my banishment they could return to an edited past, one in which I did not exist. They were wrong. Returning to that point in time undid their victory as surely as it undid my conquest. I still existed, exactly as I had been. I had no knowledge of the first cycle, but they did. Link and Zelda bore the memories of my triumph over Hyrule and the future that I had wrought, and when they saw that I was still alive, poised to repeat my conquest, they conspired to kill me."

Realization crawled across Verletz's face. "Then the mysterious boy who assassinated you was...Link, the voyager of time? And the Princess, Zelda, she planned the whole thing with him...she was not his second victim, she was his accomplice!"

"There can be no other conclusion. Now...do you understand why you are drawn toward those two Hylians? Why they have proven as elusive and infuriating to you as they did to me?"

"They are your killers, your nemeses. They are Link and Zelda." From gaping awe Verletz's eyes narrowed in anger. "I had them! I had captured them and interred them in the occupied tunnels of Death Mountain, but the accursed Gorons stole them! I fought with them outside Kakariko, but somehow they escaped my wrath! And if it weren't for the intervention of the army of Hyrule, they would have been mine when I found them in the city ruins! Your enemies and mine, slipping through my fingers again and again. The Princess of Hyrule in my hands...what a coup it would have been! Just think of the terms of armistice we could dictate, with the royal heir as a bargaining chip..."

"Irrelevant," the voice of Ganondorf sneered. "Her true significance goes far beyond petty politics of war and peace. She and Link are the two inheritors of the Triforce. With them in your hands, the Triforce could be unified and its limitless power claimed."

"All three pieces of the Triforce united...but you are dead, the Triforce of Power has no home." Verletz rose from his desk. "Unless..." He looked at the back of his hand, at the faint mark that lingered there.

"Can you not feel it? The call of destiny? Can you not sense the Triforce of Power yearning to take its rightful place within you? Do you not feel the connection between yourself and the others?"

"Then I truly am your successor. I am destined to bear the Triforce."

"You must retrieve it from the Temple of Time where it rests. Its three bearers must be united there, and the Triforce will split. Then, with each piece in its destined recipient, you must slay the others. Link and Zelda must die while they bear their Triforce pieces, and those pieces will take their place within you. And when all three pieces are yours, not even the gods will be able to stand against you."

"I must slay them while the Triforce pieces inhabit them," Verletz reiterated for his own benefit. "What happens if they perish without my intervention?"

"That must not be allowed to happen," Ganondorf admonished. "If either dies before the inheritance takes place, another would be chosen by the Triforce, someone unknown, and the reunification of the Triforce would become nigh-impossible. You may disturb the Triforce in its resting-place to induce it to split, then slay Link and Zeldabut it would be easier, and so much more satisfying, to capture them alive, now, while they do not have the power of the Triforce aiding them. Bring them in chains to where the Triforce rests, and as the Triforce pieces flee their dying bodies your apotheosis will be the last thing they witness." The disturbing mirth in Ganondorf's voice at the prospect was impossible to miss.

"I was so close," Verletz glowered. "Their last known location was Kakariko, though I am certain they are no longer there. But as for where they are now, it is inscrutable. Scouts, spies, even magical divination has been fruitless. They must be somewhere deep in hiding..."

"They cannot hide forever. They have their mission, as you do yours."

"I must draw them out somehow, to bring them to the Temple of Time."

"Patience," Ganondorf chided. "It is not so simple. If the Sages are awakened once again, you will not be able to defeat them. And that is exactly what they are trying to do."

"Who are these Sages? I will send forth my legions and find them first," said Verletz, striking his palm with his fist.

"Their identities are hidden from me, but if you follow Link and Zelda, they will lead you to them. They cannot conceal themselves from you indefinitely; by pursuing the Sages they will expose themselves to your reach. You will feel their presence. Stop them from awakening the Sages and victory will be assured."

"I thank you for your guidance, Lord Ganondorf. I have heard faint whispers of your voice before, but now that you have revealed the truth to me, I will avenge you and enact your designs."

"You are my worthy successor. Heed my words, and we will crush the forces of the past that wish to destroy us."

"I will obey your council, Lord, but..." A shadow of doubt creased Verletz's face. "Why did you urge me to awaken the undead horde of Kakariko? My soldiers..."

"Our bond was not as mature then as it is now," Ganondorf said dismissively. "You did not have the strength to master the dark forces that dwelt there. It is of no consequence. Kakariko, its people, the soldiers you sacrificed there: all are mere pawns in the great game."

"But..."

"Trust in my wisdom. I have given you guidance, bestowed my magic upon you, guided you to rulership over the Gerudo, all so that you may fulfil your destined purpose."

"Your magic?" Verletz started, alarmed. "But I am the Archon of Din, her devoted servant. My magic is her blessing..."

A haunting laugh echoed in Verletz's mind. "The source of your magic is me, and none other. I was a warlock of epic power, and your pyromancy is my legacy. It is because of me that you have risen to your venerated position."

"I...I thought...I thought it was a gift for my devotion." Verletz sank onto his bed. "Is it all a lie? Does Din hear my prayers?"

"Pray to me!" Ganondorf's voice thundered. "Of what consequence is the source of your power? Power is all that matters. And I have given you a power beyond reckoning, power enough to rebalance the world for all time. Are not my rewards rich? Cling to your devotion to the Goddess if you must; follow me, and you will win power to surpass the gods themselves."

"I..." Verletz put a hand to his brow. "I must think on this. What you have told me has explained much, but..."

"Rest, and prepare, and do not fear or doubt the glorious destiny that is your birthright. I will not abandon you."

No more did the ghostly voice of Ganondorf intrude upon Verletz that night. His mind had not the strength to weigh such revelations immediately, and leaving such pondering for the morrow he sank into a deep but troubled sleep.