Time's Saga

First Life: Prince of Power

"Now you're going to know true fear. Whatever trials you passed through to get here will be nothing compared to the hell you'll experience in the next few minutes. …I'll be waiting for you."

Chapter 35: Rush

Bularia ran down the empty halls of the fortress, near breathless. It wasn't that the distance from the gate to the King's hall was exhausting, though the twists and inclines seemed to go on forever. It was, in fact, the news, that terrible, terrible news she was burdened to carry.

Barely conscious of her movements, she smacked the bell at the side of the chieftain's curtain. Without waiting to be called upon, she stepped across the threshold. Somewhere in the recess of her mind Bularia hoped King Ganondorf would excuse this offence, as this information was too important to be kept within her for another second.

Dropping to the ground, with her forehead pressed against the freezing stone, she cried, "My King! We've just received terrible news! The Dancing Troupe, led by Queen Ruvano herself, was attacked. They've all been injured. They're several miles out."

Bularia dared raise her head after her trembling voice fell silent. Startled, she bowed her head again and waited for him to speak. Her king had risen from his bed and she hadn't even noticed. For a fearful second the well-tested warrior felt as if the wrath of the world was about to come down upon her. Instead all she heard was the quiet, calm voice of her king.

"Prepare my horse and awaken the council. Make sure Mother Heruta is ready here at the fortress. Bring several of her students and two fully armed troops. We'll meet the Dancing Troupe and escort them back home."

It was a solid few seconds before Bularia moved to stand. The look the King had on his face was completely neutral, and she couldn't fathom how King Ganondorf was able to command so quickly after waking to such terrible news. Bowing her head, she acknowledged the ordered.

It wasn't until her footsteps no longer echoed that Ganondorf slowly, almost gently collapsed to the floor. He brought his hands to clutch his hair and a near imperceptible groan forced its way out of him. With his heart slamming against his chest the man had a stuttering coughing fit as droplets formed in the corners of his eyes.

Hearing Bularia storm through the hall instantly awoke him. With that alertness he knew with perfect dread that something was terribly wrong. And instinct told him it had to do with his beloved. With a gasp of breath, Ganondorf wrestled his emotions. On one hand he was petrified. What would he do with Ruvano injured? Another part of him whispered that it was his fault. He knew it was dangerous for her to go, but he still allowed it. How could he forgive himself for this?

Pounding a fist into the stone beneath him, Ganondorf huffed. His beloved didn't need this. She needed him to be strong. Rising from the ground, the King of the Gerudo wasted no more time. With the same efficiency he learned from the war, he was dressed and down at the stables in record time.

Word of the Dancing Troupe's plight had spread, and nearly four armored troops were prepared with horses along with several of Mother Heruta's most accomplished pupils. The air was tense with worry, and Ganondorf didn't feel the need to dissipate those fears with false hope. Taking the reins of his horse, he turned to the gathering.

"I want Bularia and Reeza's troops to follow me. The rest of you are to stay here, ready, armed, and prepared for our arrival. If it is quiet, then come help bring the injured inside. Until then, stand guard on full alert until I tell you otherwise."

With that, Ganondorf mounted and pushed his steed to a canter. The Gerudo were left to chase after their chieftain through the canyons.

"Nabooru?"

She snapped her head up. She had dozed off again. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wished she could wake up from this nightmare, but the cold, the pain, and the pure heartache she felt when she heard Link's weak voice told her this was the brutal reality.

Ignoring her own broken leg, Nabooru struggled to move closer to Link. It took her a moment to find his hand in the darkness, but when she did, she was startled. It was cold and clammy.

"Oh, Link," she breathed.

Quickly, she put another hand on his forehead. It was hot and covered in sweat. Not a good sign. But what about any of this was good? Grinding her teeth, Nabooru shut off her raging and ragged emotions, if only to keep from scaring Link. He had heard too many screams tonight.

With a sudden fright, Nabooru realized the small hand she was holding had gone limp.

"Link?" Her voice got an octave higher.

"What's wrong?" Tahnra asked in a weary voice.

The adrenaline rush washed over Nabooru for the hundredth time that night. Quickly she moved her hand to Link's chest. It was tightly bandaged with what was left of his pantaloons, but to her dismay, it was soaked through.

"Oh no," she muttered.

Without hesitating, she pulled out her scimitar and slashed it against the stone behind her.

"Watch it!" Tahnra yelped in fright. She was only a few inches away from the sword, but Nabooru didn't pay any attention as the few sparks lit up her fear.

Link was bleeding again.

With a curse she ordered. "Check the Queen. If she's at all like Link, her wounds have reopened as well."

"Oh Din." Tahnra scrambled back to the Queen's side. "Her body's growing cold. We have to do something now!"

Her panicked voice echoed throughout the cavern.

"I know but," Nabooru said quietly, "what can we do?"

They were in a small cave, if it could be called that. It was more of a deep overhang, with just five of them managing to squeeze under it together. One sister was sent ahead to the Fortress to get help and the others… the other dear sisters were never coming home.

Nabooru dug her nails into her curled fist. May the Desert Goddess forever curse those devils who pounced on them. It was supposed to be a safe site for travelers, where the Sheikah supposedly kept watch with their cursed stones. But that didn't help the Gerudo. That gang of bloodthirsty criminals came on them without warning and nearly killed them all. The Dancing Troupe was lucky, if you could call it that, that only one of their members was killed mercifully at the very start of the battle.

Placing her hand back on Link's forehead, Nabooru had to doubt herself. She wasn't sure if death would have been better than to watch her little boy suffer, teetering on the edge of never waking up again. She was so utterly helpless to do anything for him.

Having finally reached her limit, Nabooru let out a bestial scream. Tahnra whipped her head around, but she said nothing. The sounds that her friend made echoed what was going through her own head. It continued for several long minutes, the cries only being amplified in the cavern. When she thought her mind would explode from the noise, Tahnra thought she heard another sound.

"Nabooru!" she said, her voice raw from the tears she shed. But there was a high note of hope in her raspy breath, "I think I hear them!"

Sliding her body to the entrance of the cave, Tahnra dared to poke her head out. Nabooru had thankfully fallen silent, so she could hear better whatever it was that had caught her attention. There! She heard it, a slight snorting. She was about to turn to Nabooru and shout for joy when her well-honed hunter's instincts kicked in.

There was snorting, which to the untrained would sound like a wheezing horse. But there was the distinct lack of clopping hooves, or the squeech of leather, or most importantly the voices of her sisters come to rescue them. No, what chilled her already cold body to the bone was the huffing and low squeals, and something being dragged through the rough sand.

Tahnra immediately ducked back into the cave and hissed. "It's bokoblins!"

A shiver went through Nabooru when she heard that. She gave Link's unresponsive hand a squeeze, then as quietly as possible, moved to meet Tahnra at the entrance. Pain flared trough her, but Nabooru shoved it to the side. Though when she heard the disgusting squeals, she changed her mind about the pain. The frustration and anger she felt just moments earlier were washed away into the clear conscious of a new prey. There was something she could do, right here, right now, that would serve some purpose.

She moved to stand, but Tahnra placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Don't!" Tahnra hissed as loudly as she dared. "There's no way we can survive a hoard of bokoblins. Nabooru," she warned, "Our first duty is to protect. What am I supposed to tell Prince Link when he wakes up that you went and got yourself killed in a scuffle with bokoblins simply because you just couldn't sit still?"

Nabooru's heart throbbed. Slowly, she eased herself back down, unhappy with her decision. With a deep breath to steady herself, she unsheathed her scimitar.

"Fine. But if they dare come any closer, I'll kill 'em."

Tahnra gave a weak smile back. Cradling her injured arm, she replied, "I wouldn't have it any other way. Just don't be stupid about it."

Heavy silence then fell upon the group. The seconds dragged into eons as the two waited, straining their eyes in the darkness, hoping that the hoard would pass them by. It wasn't a minute later that the first of the ugly monsters rounded the corner. It carried a crude bow with no doubt a stolen quiver of arrows, as the craftsmanship of the leather was far too advance for their capabilities. It tipped-toed through the sand, bobbing its head in an effort to trace the scent on the wind.

Both Tahnra and Nabooru stiffened and slowed their breathing. The cold of the night was threatening to give away their position, as their foggy breath rose into the sky. It was a long, long minute before the wind changed direction, so then the only thing the bokoblin could smell was its companions behind him. With a few short grunts it alerted the hoard. Immediately three others rounded the bend, each carrying some dangerous weapon. The smallest had a crude club, while another only had a tree branch. But the last was the most dangerous. It was blue and it carried both a wooden shield and a dulling shining traveler's sword.

Nabooru grit her teeth. It was a good thing Tahnra stopped her when she did. She may have managed for a little while, but with her broken leg, she would have been cut down by either the archer or the blue one within a minute. No. This was not a good situation at all. Fervently, she prayed to the Goddesses. Thickly swallowing her fear, she wondered why this tragedy had to happen. She had done everything she possibly could to protect him, and raise him, and teach him. But here he was, teetering on death's door with some monsters about to tear them apart.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be at all.

Several agonizing minutes passed, as the bokoblins continued their slow hobble. Thankfully the wind prevented the troupe's blood from being recognized by the hoard. That was something at least. It was terrifying though, the bokoblins being mere meters away, the only thing separating them was a few boulders and prayers to the Goddesses. But as the group continued their march away from the cave, the hunters imperceptible relaxed. Only a few more steps, and it was likely that the troupe was safe for the time being.

Tahnra was counting the seconds in her head to when she could finally breath again. A shiver passed through her.

Five. Four. Three. Tw-

An ear-splitting scream shattered the silence. The two hunters jumped in fright, then turned behind them. Nabooru swore. Leena had woken in post-traumatic delirium and was crying incoherent words. Hoping to calm her, Nabooru threw her whole body on top. This only served to panic the woman, who began beating Nabooru.

"I'll try to calm her down. Tahnra, can you hold off those bokoblins?" Nabooru gasped between blows.

"Already on it!" Tahnra calmly replied. She was hurriedly gathering whatever stones they could throw near the entrance of the cave. It was a good thing, too, because a few seconds later the first bokoblin was charging them.

Tahnra managed to hit it squarely in the forehead, which knocked it back. But the rest were close behind. The archer scrambled up a boulder and pulled out an arrow. Tahnra threw a few more rocks, but it was smart enough to dodge.

"I need your scimitars!" she cried.

Still struggling with the thrashing woman, Nabooru tossed her weapons to her friend. Tahnra reached out, but they ended up clattering to the ground as she grasped her arm in pain. The massive gash had reopened, and blood was spilling out.

"Tch," was all she allowed herself. Picking them both up, Tahnra cradled her arm close to her body and rose to stand. The sharp zing of an arrow made her duck, but she charged ahead.

The first she encountered was the idiot branch-wielding bokoblin. It was little wonder it was relegated to using tree branches, because it somehow failed to dodge Tahnra's infuriatingly slow attack. With a snarl and spatter of blood it fell to the ground, dead.

The two other bokoblins were smarter. The blue one with the shield was patient for its kind. It preferred to stay in the back and scream at her, moving in only when it saw a chance the club-wielding one made. The archer was dangerous as well. Tahnra barely managed to miss the next few shots through pure luck, though a few still nicked her. With a roar, she slashed and whirled, her blood mixing with the monster's in the sand.

As the fight wore on, Tahnra grew more fearful. She wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. She was already exhausted. The only motivation for her to keep swinging was the fact that the entire tribe's future was counting on her. But time was not on her side.

It finally happened. A fatal mistake.

The bokoblin with the club feinted, so when Tahnra moved to counterattack, she failed to defend. It was then that the bokoblin with the sword moved. With a wild screech it lept into the air and plunged with the sword aimed directly at Tahnra's heart.

There was nothing she could do, as the other bokoblin was already swinging at her with his club from the other side, and the archer was poised to fire again. Unconsciously, her grip tightened, and a feral grin crossed her lips. If this was how she was to die, it was pathetic. Cut down by a rag-tag group of filthy creatures.

But somewhere in recess of her mind she heard the scoffing laughter of her friend. Nabooru sniffed at her.

"Really," she huffed as she twirled her glaive to slice off a sand-filled dummy's head. Her golden eyes narrowed as both were bathed in that insufferable noon-day light and sweltering heat. Folding her arms and leaning back in that irksome, arrogant manner, Nabooru berated her better, "Can't you try to think positively at least? What's so bad about dying to protect Queen Ruvano or Prince Link or anyone else, for that matter? Give yourself some credit. You're a great warrior. So why don't you- MOVE!"

Tahnra was slammed into the ground. There was a horrid shrieking and it took her a moment to realize that it wasn't her. Daring to lift her head, the hunter blearily recognized Nabooru kneeling over her. She was screaming something, but Tahnra had to close her eyes to think.

"Tahnra! Wake up! Don't do this to me, gurl! I need you!" Nabooru's voice cracked.

A tremor lit Nabooru's whole body on fire, as her muscles screamed at her to stop moving. But instinct wouldn't let her. She had just barely managed to knock Tahnra to the ground out of the way of the arrow, while bashing the blue bokoblin to the side. She did take a blow from the club, but in fury she punched the bokoblin in its pig-like snout. But that was as far as she could go. Teetering like a drunk, Nabooru couldn't stand. But the other two bokoblins were already rising, angry squeals and all. And what was worse was that the archer had pulled another arrow.

With sorrowful eyes, Nabooru looked to the cave where her family was. She couldn't even mouth the words she wanted to say, her body was so exhausted. This had to be the end. Her last hurrah. It would take nothing short of a miracle from the Goddesses to fix this.

With a crash, she fell to the sand. It was painful, the grit digging into her wounds. But it wasn't nearly as painful as the sluggish thoughts. They all seemed to be centered around her little boy. Holding him the first time in the sacred grove. Link wobbling with the first steps he took. Link with pinched eyes and chubby cheeks because he refused to swallow some old leever meat. Link with shining eyes when he figured out the new combination to a different lock. Link laughing as he splashed in the pool. Link falling asleep next to her under the stars.

"Link…" It was nothing more than a breath. She closed her eyes, refusing that the last image to be nothing but her son, instead of a bokoblin with a raised club.

But when the monster let out a high-pitched keening sound along with the distinct crackling of electricity, she couldn't resist opening her eyes. It was standing there, in shock, as bolts of lightening she could see snaked over its body. It seemed to last for an eternity before it exploded. Wet, thick chunks fell everywhere, smoking because of the intensity of the shock and because of the monster's rapid decomposition. The ever-frugal part of Nabooru had the urge to gather the monster parts before they disintegrated. But an attempt to wiggle her fingers immediately stopped any of those thoughts.

Hazily, she picked up on other sounds. Shouts of her sisters, the thundering of hooves. And just before she closed her eyes for good this time, she caught sight of her king. Tall, and emblazoned with magic, he wasted no effort in stepping over her to reach the cave where his beloved lay.

Bularia kicked her horse to gallop faster after her king. He was so far ahead, it was like some demon had possessed him and his horse.

"King Ganondorf!" she shouted above the whipping wind, "This path was blocked off three weeks ago by a rockslide. We should go another way!"

But her words were lost on him. He didn't care.

He read the report of the rockslide, but he'd be damned if a couple of pebbles got in his way. Recalling the detailed maps and information of where the Troupe had stopped, Ganondorf reaffirmed his assessment. This was the fastest way.

Dropping his horse's reigns, Ganondorf cupped his hands together. Between them, a vibrant red light was formed. Two seconds later the horse rounded the curve and there were the boulders, waiting to be demolished. Ganondorf obliged. With a shout, he directed the ball of light into the rock wall, utterly annihilating it before his horse thundered through.

Bularia brought her hands up to her face, as her eyes widened. That rockslide was judged to have been several meters thick and twice that height. But what they were passing through now was nothing more than fine sand, drifting in the wake of the riders. With a shudder, Bularia thought of the chaos Ganondorf alone caused in the war. To have executed a spell of that magnitude that perfectly that quickly was impossible for anyone else she knew.

Suddenly, Ganondorf stopped. Bularia gave a low sigh of relief but wondered what caused him to do so. As she slowed her horse, she heard it; screaming.

In a flash, Ganondorf continued his reckless speed. Everything else about him said calm and cool, but the urgency with which he kicked his faithful stallion gave away his panic. Clenching his teeth so hard that they ached, the Gerudo King leaned lower in the saddle. In his mind he repeated, Just a little more. Just a little more until you're safe, Ruvano.

He burst into a clearing, where instantly he saw the nasty hoard. Without clearly thinking, he brought both hands up and summoned an old spell. Electricity sparked between his fingers, and faster than his mighty horse, he shot the deadly spell. All the bokoblins were shrouded in an immobilizing death grip. Halting his horse just before the boulders, Ganondorf leapt off, completely ignoring the dying screams of the monsters. Idly, he took note of the conditions of Nabooru and Tahnra before stepping over them to reach the cave. He summoned a sphere of light to see in the darkness, but he still had to crouch down to look inside.

And there she lay.

His heart stopped in his throat, as agony seized control of his limbs.

"Ruvano," he whispered.

She was in the back, the safest place but so frustratingly out of reach. She was wrapped in patches of silk and a torn horse blanket. But still, he could see the fresh blood dripping. She was white, terrifyingly white, her skin a color of death. Dark circles were her eyes, and other putrid bruises dotted her lovely skin. For a terrifying moment, the Gerudo King thought she had died. Died and left him alone in this horrible world. But faintly her chest rose with a small breath.

That movement snapped him into action.

Hurriedly, he moved the unconscious Leena out of the cave, and handed her to the healers who stood behind him. Then he reached for Link. The boy gave a cry when he touched his shoulder and Ganondorf recoiled. He hadn't noticed until now, but Link was covered in his own bandages, ripped from his vest and pants. Gently, Ganondorf moved a hand under Link's back and another under his legs. Pulling him out the cave, he passed the boy to another healer, who gasped when she saw the Prince's condition. Paying her no mind, Ganondorf dived back under to rescue his beloved.

She looked even worse up close. The bruises he saw from a distance were only the start. There were plenty of other lesions and nicks across her skin. The caked mud and blood on her only contrasted against her dangerously light skin. There was a putrid smell, bitter and sharp, that signified the closing in of death.

Hardening his heart and silencing his thoughts, Ganondorf wasted no more time in taking Ruvano out of the cave.

"Healers!" his voice thundered throughout the canyon. A bit more softly, he commanded, "Your Queen needs you."

With only a flicker of hesitation from those already tending to the wounded, the group moved forward as one when they realized what an awful state the Queen was in. One beckoned the King to lay Ruvano on a cleared patch of ground while another summoned forth another ball of light.

"No need. Save your powers for her." The King commanded, and with a wave of his hand, a dozen more lights shone brightly overhead.

Having extinguished her own, the healer knelt down and gently began prying the blanket off the Queen. That horrible stench filled the air and several warriors took a step back. Ganondorf continued to stand there, frozen in his fury.

Ruvano's entire midsection was slashed and hacked into. Most were shallow, but there were a few deep and deadly punctures. And, Ganondorf observed with ever growing rage, they were all centered around their unborn daughter.

A younger healer collapsed in the sand. "I can't do it," she whispered hoarsely, "No one would be able to recover from wounds like that."

One older woman smacked her and shouted, "Enough. We must try!" Immediately she placed her hands on Ruvano and they began to pulsate with deep red power. Slowly, she began chanting.

The others joined in. But as the seconds ticked on, everyone grew more worried. Several warriors crowded around and began pouring various healing potions, but those only seemed to have minimal affect.

With every heartbeat, Ganondorf's rage intensified. In this moment, with him unable to do anything to help his beloved, he began to think. From what was reported, the group was attacked in the middle of the night, when heavy cloud cover obscured the already thin moon. They were surrounded. It was sudden, with no sound, no warning at all. There were several large burly men, but there were also slimmer, quicker assailants that were difficult to track. To an untrained eye, the larger wounds appeared deadlier, but Ganondorf had seen similar lesions before on other sisters who died miserable deaths. And though he was slow to recognize it at first, that rank stench of poison rocked his memory so hard that he nearly lost control of his magic. Instantly, the pieces fit into place.

Squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his fists so tightly that his veins bulged, Ganondorf let out a low whistle. The warriors reacted instantly, spears and swords drawn and poised for an incoming attack. But the only thing that came was the King's giant stallion. With blazing red hair to match their King's, and with a midnight colored coat it was the charger that brought terror to many Hylian troops on the battlefield. But this time, it simply climbed over the rocks to stand by his master. It whickered softly as Ganondorf ignored it for a moment to kneel down near Ruvano's head.

"Enough." He placed a hand on the closest healer. "Save your strength for the others. You won't be able to heal her with your magic."

The woman turned to him with tears streaming down her face. In a broken voice, she said, "But I must try, my King."

With little emotion, as he was already too drained to offer any more comfort, Ganondorf curtly replied, "You have tried. Now do as I say and help the others. I'm taking Queen Ruvano to the Colossus. The witches are the only ones that can help her now."

As he lifted his Queen off the ground, the healers stopped their flow of magic. They paused for a moment to watch as he near effortlessly got into the saddle while still holding onto her through the help of a levitation spell. The warriors then snapped into action.

Bularia called out, "Troop one, stay here. Troop two, follow the King!"

With a rush, half the warriors ran back to their horses. They knew King Ganondorf would not wait for them. In fact, they knew they shouldn't slow him down at all. The Queen's life, and the future of their tribe, was literally in his hands.

The stallion let out a might bellow as Ganondorf ushered it into a gallop. The warriors followed behind, their escort mission one of speed. In a few seconds, the canyons fell deathly silent.