The Waters of Nayru
Chapter 34: Weight of the World
By, Frank Hunter

Their conversation ended, Rigo left Amili's chambers with no resolution found. He still knew what the right course of action would be, but he didn't know how he could do it. How could he force Amili to give up the Chalice, knowing full well what it meant to the Gerudo people? Knowing how it would dishearten them to surrender the very object that, to them, meant a second chance at prosperity?

He was escorted out by another guard, a different woman from before but one who seemed just as interested in him as she had been. He thought that he could do without this level of celebrity, and wondered if the King would normally have to deal with such infatuation if a revolution hadn't just recently been carried out in his name.

As he left the pueblo, his body kept on setting one foot before the other, but his mind was retreated in on itself. Nabooru was the only person he could consult about this situation. Everyone else had an agenda. Everyone else was trying to accomplish some end that, in the grand scheme of things, just seemed so trivial and difficult. And all of it revolved around a stupid, shiny cup.

That, he guessed, was politics.

I wish I'd never found that cursed thing, Rigo thought. You know, if I'd just turned a different corner in the vault, or had been looking the other way, I wouldn't have seen it.

Relics like the Chalice have a way of being found when they want to be, Nabooru answered cryptically. Finding it was probably not your fault at all.

If I'd known the consequences at the time...

Well, you didn't, Nabooru snapped. So stop moping. You know what needs to be done now.

Yeah, Rigo resolved, reluctantly. That conversation hurt, but I guess nothing's really changed. We have to get the Chalice to Zelda. We've gotta stop this war. That's the right thing to do, regardless of what anybody thinks.

He turned the corner beyond the pueblo paying no mind to the rocks and rubble around him. He was preoccupied with exactly how he was going to accomplish this. Persuading Amili would be hopeless. She was far too invested in the opinions and preferences of the Gerudo to listen to reason when it came to this. But, Rigo was sure that the Chalice had been there, somewhere. In her private quarters. It was unlikely she'd trust it to be stored anywhere else, so at least he had an idea of where to find it.

I might have to steal it, he thought.

No sooner had he come to that conclusion than a voice came from over his shoulder.

"You've grown, I think," it said.

"Holy hell!" Rigo shouted, and nearly jumped out of his skin. He whipped around, instincts to fight kicking in, but the only thing he saw was the blind, still form of Pureet against the rocks. She stood there alone.

"How do you manage to do that every freakin' time?!" he asked, pumped on adrenaline. "Still!"

The ghost of a smile came to her face. "Long practice."

Rigo took a few cautious steps back toward her. The blind woman didn't move, except maybe to tilt her head slightly to the side. Rigo could tell she was listening intently. He noticed that she held no stick or staff to help her walk, and it appeared as though she'd had no one to guide her to this place. She was travelling alone, navigating without the use of her eyes. Quite the formidable old bird.

"Did you just want to see me for yourself?" Rigo asked. He caught the mistake in his terminology the instant the words passed from his lips.

"Not exactly. I can't see much of anything anymore," Pureet answered. Rigo attempted an apology, but the old attendant just pushed on, seemingly unoffended.

"I knew it was you beyond doubt when you called out your challenge from the desert. I never would have forgotten your voice, Rigo. You should know that I always valued the opportunity I had to be your teacher. And, from the moment you chose to leave Jirin to come back to Hyrule, to stand up and aid your people when they needed it, I have never for a moment left your side."

Rigo didn't know what to say to this unbridled pronouncement of loyalty. Was this how all of the soldiers here felt? He doubted it. Pureet's devotion had always made him uneasy, right from that unexpected moment she'd mentioned, when he'd confided in her as a child and she, against everything he'd known adults had to do, had chosen instead to keep his secret and help send him on his way. It was the first moment he'd ever seen first-hand the effect the Gerudo King could have on someone, and he knew he wasn't worthy of it. He hadn't done anything to prove he deserved the Gerudos' respect.

"That was why you lost your eyes, wasn't it?" Rigo asked her.

"Yes," Pureet said. "Though I wouldn't wish you to blame yourself for that. The Stewardess gave you the grim details, I assume?"

"Yes, she did," Rigo answered.

Pureet smiled as she went on. "Sooru unfortunately placed me in a position where I had to choose between my allegiance to her and my allegiance to you. She should not have done so. When she forced my hand and didn't like the result, she took my eyes from me as punishment. She assumed it would be ample to put me in my place. But she was wrong. In return, I did what needed to be done to remove the power from her corrupted hands."

Rigo felt chills moving up and down his spine. Pureet's tone as she talked about this was stoic. She recounted her self mutilation and insurrection as though it were simply fact, without emotion or concern about the effects these actions had caused.

"You…you did this?" Rigo asked, unbelieving.

"Yes," Pureet said again, simply. "I was the one who orchestrated the Gerudos' rebellion and procured the aid of the Jirin when it was needed most, though many would not know this is the truth. I was the one who planned the schemes and strategies used to attack and weaken Sooru. And, in the end, I was the one who put young Amili in a position to kill the wretch and claim the title of Stewardess herself."

Thoughts lashed back and forth in Rigo's mind. Pureet had always been his teacher. He'd always known she was competent and dangerous, but until now, he never realized how truly fearsome, how powerful she really was. He wished he could see her eyes, to get some sense of the feeling behind what she was saying, but they were not there, and the bandage wrapped around her head masked any lingering expression he might have gotten. She was as a rock.

"Does Amili know that you were responsible?"

"No," Pureet answered. "At least, not the true extent of my part. I supported her when I could, and have stayed on as her attendant to help govern the Gerudo properly afterward. Understand, as capable as she was, no teenage girl would ever have acquired the power she did without help."

Rigo nodded slowly. "I guess you've always known about the passages behind the walls, huh?"

Pureet smiled widely. "Yes, I suppose I have."

But," Rigo started, "if you were capable of doing all of that, why not just put yourself in position to become Stewardess? Wouldn't that have been easier?"

"Only on the surface," Pureet said. "For one who operates in the dark though, being forced into a spotlight is the worst possible fate. As a leader, one becomes burdened with the morals and rigors of running a nation full of people. You've spoken to the Stewardess, you must see that the course of action she currently follows is not the one that is ideal, but the one that she feels she must."

"She's not wrong," Rigo said, feeling the truth bubbling out of him. "I see her point. But I'm afraid of what might happen if this gets out of control. How many people on both sides are going to die if I let Amili go to war?

"It will be disastrous," Pureet said. "Well beyond the confines of one small battle in an abandoned pueblo. Both the Gerudo and Hylians are proud peoples. If this begins, neither will opt to stop it until it has been properly won."

Pureet eyed him. Or at least she would have, if she'd had eyes.

"I know why you've come here," she said. "There could only be one reason. The Stewardess cannot make a wise decision from where she stands, and she will not listen to dissenting opinion now. She is far too involved." Pureet reached behind her back as she spoke and produced a small satchel, not unlike the one Rigo had used years earlier to hold his supply of dried pork.

"However," Pureet went on, "this decision should never have been hers to make in the first place. Many Gerudo fought and died to ensure the Gerudo King retains the right to sit upon his throne. Such is the will of the Sand Goddess. And, now we have a King who is of age."

Pureet held the satchel out before her. Its leather straps blew in the drafts of wind that gusted through the rocky chasm.

"The decision should never have been hers because it should have been yours, Rigo. You were robbed of it due to circumstance, but I am here to restore that decision to you. Take it."

Rigo looked her over and tentatively stepped forward. Restore the decision to him? No, this was crazy. As he approached her and took the satchel from her hand, he was kept repeating that to himself. Whatever was in this satchel, surely it was something else. Something inconsequential, not what he thought it must be. But, when he released the straps and opened it, there could be no mistake. It was the Chalice of Nayru nestled inside, still glowing brightly in all its splendor. Against his will, Rigo's mouth gaped as he looked on it, but he quickly closed it and the bag, and forced his eyes away.

"How did you get this?" Rigo asked.

"Never mind about it. The Stewardess does not know it is missing. She likely will not for some time. I'd suggest you consider carefully and make the proper decision about where its rightful place is."

Rigo held the satchel before him as though it were a dead thing he didn't want to get too close to. He shook his head. "Pureet…this isn't right. We've already lost so much because of Gerudo infighting. And you…your eyes." He groaned and kicked a rock away. It clattered off into the distance. "That's something you'll never get back. And still, it's small compared to the hurt the people will get when this war comes to our doorstep. We shouldn't be going behind Amili's back now. Whatever we do, the Gerudo should stand together and do it as a whole. That's the only way we're going to survive this!"

Pureet considered his answer for a long moment. "That's noble," she said. "But I don't think you really believe it."

Rigo threw his hands in the air. "What if I do?"

Pureet braced herself on a rock and started forward, moving to leave. Once she had oriented herself, she pointed down the path from which Rigo had come and said, "Then you know where to find her. Bring the Chalice back, and help prepare the Gerudo for war. That may very well become your decision. But at least then, you will have made it."

She began to step past Rigo, not quite stumbling, but not entirely sure of her footing either. Rigo considered helping her, but he was too baffled, too lost to do anything remotely beneficial before she'd past him and found herself back on the road.

"I should return before I'm missed," Pureet said. "But tread carefully, Rigo. I expect that one way or another, we will meet again soon."

She didn't wait for his response to begin her slow, uncomfortable strides back toward the pueblo. Rigo stood and watched her go, mouthing his words for a few moments before gaining the strength to say what he needed to say.

"Why are you doing this to me!?" he finally shouted back at her.

Pureet stopped for a moment and turned to face him, regarding him in her own way.

"Like it or not, boy," she said, "when the dust here has settled, you are going to be King. That is fact, and it has always been my responsibility to ensure that you are prepared when that happens." She spun her hand in the air in a sort of contemplative gesture. "I suppose you can consider this your final exam."

She sounded amused as she said it, and Rigo hated the tone. He felt patronized by it, though he was sure Pureet hadn't meant for anything of the sort. But, she said nothing else as she turned back and continued on her way.

Rigo watched his old teacher go, possibilities running through his head at high speed. Off in that direction stood the Gerudo pueblo, occupied by his own people. By Amili. And, although he dreaded nothing more than betraying Amili and her trust, he knew that returning the cup to her only had one outcome: war. In the other direction camped the Hylians, and Rigo had promised Queen Zelda that he would return the Chalice to them for the price of his own freedom. Though the terms of the deal had changed somewhat with Sooru's preemptive demise, the idea was still the same. But, he would have to surrender to Colonel Tydus first, a prospect he did not enjoy. And, as he obviously had not been crowned King yet and could not order an immediate retreat, he would have to persuade Tydus to leave well enough alone. There was still a chance for war.

Neither option was appealing, and both held possible catastrophe, but thanks to Pureet, Rigo was now alone with the Chalice and had time to make this decision as carefully as possible. Which was the better alternative?

So, Nabooru piped up, her tone playful, as usual. You still know what needs to be done?