Chapter 22: Lost in the Sand
"So...there's only girls?"
Rebecca nodded. "Mm-hm! No boys anymore."
Trevor raised an eyebrow as he continued to follow Rebecca out of the Gerudo Fortress. He held hands with her to make sure he didn't get lost while going through its maze-like halls.
"Anymore?" Trevor asked.
"Yeah," Rebecca replied. "They had a king once. He was mean, though. He tried to kill Nabooru."
"Alright." The two walked out of Gerudo Fortress and into the blazing desert. Trevor winced at the sunlight that poured down on his face. "Ow…was his name Ganondorf by any chance?"
Rebecca looked back at Trevor with both blue eyes wide. "How do you know about him?"
"He's kind of the reason why we're moving around Hyrule. We need to stop him. Also to find you and go home. It helps us do everything we need to."
Rebecca had a thoughtful look on her face before grinning. "Ha! I think we took care of him for you."
"Is he dead?"
"...No, but we beat him and his bad guys. So, I think we won the war. You're welcome."
"Yeah...thanks."
Trevor breathed a sigh of relief. If Ganondorf was gone–or least beaten to the point of having to wait until he could attack again—not everything was lost.
Trevor didn't want to be part of this anyway. The Gerudos probably made it so it would stay that way.
Rebecca and Trevor walked to the Gerudo Village. Trevor hadn't been at a place like it before, with golden homesteads and small dirt roads being home to so many women and girls. At first, no one seemed to notice Trevor and Rebecca. Then, heads turned in their direction and Trevor's face turned red. How strange a sight he must have been to the Gerudos.
I'm really the only boy, he thought.
"Gerudos don't like boys that much," Rebecca sighed. "But I think they can get used to you."
"I hope so." Trevor looked down. "You don't need to hold my hand anymore, do you?"
Rebecca cringed, acting like something cold just touched her. She wriggled her fingers away from Trevor's and took a big step forward to make space between the two of them. Trevor heard the softest apology ever.
A group of Gerudo guards surrounded the well as if they were having a meeting. One of a women–a woman garbed in pink with a ponytail held by a bejeweled pin–looked at the two and stepped away from her fellow Gerudos.
The woman approached the pair with her arms crossed. Her face was filled with concern.
"It's good to see he's awake," she said to Rebecca. "Now we have an additional decision to make."
Rebecca looked shocked. "Are you sending him into exile?"
The woman shook her head. "No, we're talking about how to care for him...though we're all hesitant. What kind of city do you come from, Rebecca? It's so bizarre. Vais and Voes living together. It's inconceivable…" The woman turned to Trevor, who had a hard time hiding his feelings. "Oh. Hello. My name is Nabooru." She smiled at Trevor and he relaxed a little.
"Hey," said Trevor. "Do you always exile people?"
"Only if they commit murders, do black magic or are possessed by demons."
"I don't do that stuff."
"Tell that to the geyser you made in the valley."
"That was my evil shadow twin–" Trevor pressed his lips together when he realized how strange he sounded.
Nabooru shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Given the company you keep–" Nabooru nodded towards Rebecca. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."
"Thanks."
"My pleasure."
Nabooru looked back at the well. Many gathered around it.
"...The witches took measures to get revenge on us," Nabooru said. "We've been closed in by the ice since yesterday's battle." Nabooru pointed behind the children. They looked found a massive white wall of ice towering over the area. It was the pathway that led out of the village and into the valley where rapid waters rushed by.
"The well is frozen solid at the bottom," Nabooru continued. "It's bewitched, actually; it won't melt in the desert heat or by flames. We tried using lit arrows and the aim of our archers were precise. Nothing. We're running out of water rations. It's…getting difficult."
Nabooru closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead. Trevor had never seen someone look so helpless before. He wondered if he could say anything to help her feel better, or to know that it wasn't her fault…that maybe it was his somehow. Trevor understood what the Gerudo was going through. After all, he'd been helpless throughout his whole stay in Hyrule.
"So…" Rebecca's shoulders slouched. "We're going to die if we don't figure something out?"
Nabooru clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Don't be so negative, kid. We'll figure something out. We...black magic can't be countered by normal means. Mages of any sort are essentially extinct, except for those treacherous hags and maybe a few others. The last ones disappeared hundreds of years ago."
"Ice is just solid water," Rebecca asked. "Right?"
Nabooru copied Rebecca's slouch. "You have some form of schooling. Good job. That should help us crack the ice right away. We're saved."
"We just might be." Rebecca pulled Trevor forward and presented him like a trophy to Nabooru. "Trevor here? There's a reason he appeared with water like that. He has powers. Water powers. I've seen them before. He's like me. Maybe he can save us by cracking the ice. That should help it melt."
Trevor felt put on the spot. He couldn't believe Rebecca knew about his powers. He never told her about that day and though the circumstances were strange, he was never suspected. People in Oak Shire called it a coincidence, a strange act of nature and nothing more.
Nabooru suddenly took interest in Trevor. She crossed her arms and pondered him a bit more.
"Is that true?" Nabooru asked.
Trevor's heart sank. He wanted to snap at Rebecca for opening her big mouth but kept his own clamped shut for the sake of peace. After he and Nabooru shared a stare, Trevor shrugged and raised a hand.
"What do I do?" he asked.
"I'll clear the way and you go to work, magic child." Nabooru turned toward the well once more and raised an arm. "Out of the way! The voe is trying to help us!"
The Gerudos at the well turned to Trevor again. Trevor felt smaller the second time around.
His legs shook as he took tender steps toward the well. Sweat seeped from under his arms, staining the shirt he donned.
When Trevor looked down the well, he saw what the witches did; a solid disk of ominous white ice covered the bottom. Its glossy sheen stared up at Trevor, who swore he saw his reflection even in the well's dark depths.
Or maybe it was his shadow.
When Trevor stumbled back, murmurs rose from the crowd that watched him. When Trevor turned around, he noticed that almost all of Gerudo had their eyes on him. Everyone, from the girls around his age to women with stern stares and wrinkles showing their advanced age, became curious. The desert wind whispered through the village's space. It picked up ribbons of red earth that created a thin mist around the area, like the start of a storm. Trevor wanted to fly away like the dust. He'd get carried away to a place far from here and nowhere near the places that reminded him of his failures.
Or how different he was.
Or how alone he felt when the world around him continued to be so unfamiliar but reminded him of the curse he never wanted but always had to possess.
When Trevor picked up his feet and dashed away from the village, the silence grew stronger. A wave of surprise swept across the Gerudos, who soon spread themselves out like rock shards falling away from their boulder. Nabooru, Mira and Rebecca remained standing in their respective spots. While the older women were relatively calm, Rebecca frowned and hung her head, shaking it from side to side while palming her brow.
"He had to spaz when we needed him," she muttered. "What the hell…?"
"Voes tend to be very weak," said Mira. Rebecca expected to hear the guard's snark but noticed that her tone was softer, as if she were saying a fact of life. Rebecca always wanted to prove herself to boys, but she'd never call them weaker than women. If anything, every person was equal regardless of gender.
"I don't know what made you think he would help," Nabooru sighed. She shrugged and placed both her hands on the back of her head. "Perhaps we can get a rope and a spike. Drive the spike into the well's stone. With a few of us overlooking everything, we can get a Gerudo to try and crack the ice. Black magic can't be that strong."
"You expect the witches to leave such an opening?" asked Mira. "They wanted us to suffer. We're going to have to rely on the river. If we can get out of the village space."
"We can't lose our calm." Nabooru tapped her feet while pondering. "However, we're running out of time. We can't afford to lose another minute."
"Well, let's give Rebecca a chance to spend some time alone with someone."
Rebecca squinted both eyes at Mira, wondering how crazy a woman could get. Mira looked at Rebecca intently, sporting a smirk as if she'd struck a nerve. If anything, Mira only caused confusion in the girl, giving her questions of her own.
"What do you mean by that?" Rebecca asked.
"You know exactly what I mean."
"No, I don't. Tell me."
"I thought it was very sweet, the way you held his hand. You didn't want to let go, even when you finally did. Every vevhi goes through this, I think."
Rebecca's face turned red. She didn't have to look into a mirror to know that her skin transformed in its color, especially around the cheeks.
Mira and Nabooru looked at each other with grins, treating Rebecca's embarrassment like the discovery of gold. They giggled and spoke in Gerudo, which annoyed Rebecca because she knew they were making fun of her.
It was a tendency she would have had when teasing others in Spanish back home. Now, she understood how rude the teasing could be, or at least how humiliating it was on the other end.
"I had a feeling myself," Nabooru said, looking back at Rebecca. "Kid, you have good taste, I'll admit that. He's going to grow up to be a very handsome young man."
"You two will make a great couple," said Mira. "When you get back home, put a shackle around his ankle and yours. He'll always be by your side that way!"
The women hollered in laughter.
Rebecca felt her glare. "OK, it's not—you—that's really bad to say."
Nabooru rolled her eyes. "We've said worse to girls your age. They turned out fine."
Mira nodded in agreement. "We heard worse as well, worse than anything we said. Neither of us are controlled by voes, but some of them can't resist us!"
Rebecca balled her hands into fists and the women stopped laughing. They seemed to remember that somewhere in the girl was a strange power that brought out ghosts. Mira held up her hands and pointed in a direction behind Rebecca. Rebecca already knew that a large gate had been built at the end of the village opposite its main entrance. A pair of Gerudo guards stood watch facing the Haunted Wasteland.
"I don't think he's in danger," said Mira. "But maybe you should make sure he's fine. Encourage him some more. Then, maybe he'll get motivated and come back. What do we have to lose?"
Rebecca saw the women's point. Her temper waned.
"OK," she said. "But he's not my boyfriend."
"Rebecca…" Nabooru couldn't help but smile again. This time, instead of pushing the child's buttons, she seemed to connect with Rebecca, as if their minds were one. "Kid, you're a wonderful little vai. I think you'd fit in with the village if you chose to stay here...but you're a horrible liar. Your eyes look just like the ones that belonged to the woman you remind me of. She couldn't help but show the truth in her heart. Her feelings embodied her too much. The nature of women, I guess."
Rebecca parted her lips to argue, but nothing came out. Her mind was empty of any defenses, of any walls she'd built. They had been breaking down ever since she came to Hyrule in a mysterious way. Her life had been changed forever in many ways and now she realized her mind had been as well. She couldn't close herself off from the truth. When Nabooru spoke of it, the girl had no choice but to agree with her. She already had this whole time.
When Rebecca turned on her heel and ran off, she showed more freedom in that space of time than she had throughout her whole life. Nabooru believed it as she watched the girl dash toward the Haunted Wasteland. She felt concerned about what would happen, but she was certain both children were smart. They wouldn't go near the river of sinking sand...it was too obvious to miss, too perilous to not make itself known.
"The things I want to tell her," Nabooru said.
Mira scratched the side of her head to relieve an itch. "I...still have my doubts, but they dwindle every day."
"Do you think Deedra would be proud of her?"
Mira gave Nabooru a thoughtful glance. "With the way Deedra treated her when she was a baby fresh from her own womb...yes. Yes, I believe our greatest warrior would be very proud to know that her daughter was on the way to becoming just as great a fighter and survivor as she was. Deedra is shining down on her now. I believe it."
On The Edge of the Haunted Wasteland
A storm brewed beyond the border of the Gerudo Fortress. Trevor felt the wind again, hoping it would grant him his wish.
He looked out into the distance, thinking he'd find a new place, like a hill or sandstone structure. Instead, there was an endless, mind-numbing golden stretch of sand.
Thoughts swirled in his brain. Trevor missed his parents and shed a tear for them. He thought of the classmates left behind after the earthquake and another tear came down for them as well. The memory of Oak Shire caused a downpour and Trevor buried his face into his hands. He openly sobbed as he sank to the ground.
While sitting, Trevor heard footsteps approaching him from behind. He didn't feel too alarmed. It was probably a Gerudo guard ready to scold him for wandering too far away from the grounds. Better yet, he expected Rebecca to snap at him for embarrassing her in front of her friends, who probably laughed behind her back as she chased him. Trevor was about to turn around and apologize to whoever it was when he saw a pair of red eyes within the golden mist.
They belonged to a coal colored version of his face.
You…
Trevor's Shadow grabbed at Trevor's throat before the boy could scream. The sensation was the same as it had been in Trevor's delirious dream; the nails dug into the skin and brought about pain.
When Trevor tried to free his voice, he gurgled instead. He clawed at his Shadow's wrist but he seemed too weak to do anything.
The Shadow lifted him up and threw him. It was a forward thrust that caused Trevor to part with his foe's grasp.
When Trevor landed, he rolled on the desert surface and found himself caked in its grime. Sand grains seeped into his mouth, causing him to sputter.
Before he could get up, his shadow buried its foot into his gut, causing him to shout at last.
What is she? When Trevor didn't answer, the Shadow buried its foot into his gut again. ANSWER ME! WHAT IS SHE?!
When the Shadow kept striking Trevor, Trevor curled himself into a ball and allowed the hits to happen. This was probably the end for him.
He didn't think anyone would come after him at this point. He might as well succumb to his Shadow and let it take his life. Then, it would all be over.
Trevor thought of his friends and family.
They would all miss him, he knew. The feeling was shared and it tempted him to cry once more. As the Shadow struck him and yelled, Trevor wished for the final blow to be struck to him. Then…
Trevor caught his shadow's kick like a brick wall halting a speeding cannon. When Trevor flipped his Shadow's foot upward, he watched it backflip and land on its own face.
A muffled groan emerged from the sand as the Shadow rose, pushing itself to its feet.
At first, Trevor stayed down. He tried to think about the secret behind what he did. Then, he gritted his teeth and charged his Shadow, tackling the fiend into the ground, rolling with him. He pounded both fists on his Shadow's head, grunting with every punch.
"Go away," he said. "Go away, go away, GO AWAY! I'M TIRED OF YOU BEING AROUND ME! YOU UNDERSTAND, MAN?! STOP! PICKING! ON! ME!"
Trevor's Shadow looked terrified. It was its turn to be afraid, to be helpless, to hold up its hands to shield itself from the strikes.
As Trevor continued to fight back against his enemy, the Shadow sank into the sand. It became flat as it should have always been, barely noticed in the midst of the world. Soon enough, Trevor only found himself burying his knuckles into the desert, leaving imprints in the sand that were buried by the sandstorm.
Trevor stopped. He took deep breaths to regain the air he lost in the battle. A smile formed on his face once he realized he won. Triumphantly, Trevor stood up and turned toward the wasteland. He pumped both fists in the air and stepped toward the expanse, treating it like a new kingdom he was given to rule.
As Trevor celebrated and thought about his return to the fortress, he felt the ground beneath him shifting. When he looked down, both his feet had been swallowed by damp sand. A sucking sound squawked around his ankles as a strange grip tightened around his legs. At first, Trevor thought the quicksand was what held him. While this was true, there was more to it.
Like a revived skeleton, Trevor's Shadow reached out from the quicksand. Its clamp around both ankles was too strong to resist or fight against. Trevor struggled, but it was already futile. He looked down in horror as his Shadow's grinning face emerged. Trevor did some damage to it; strange strands of grey blood trickled from its nostrils. One of its eyelids ballooned outward like a plum.
You fall asleep too often, bud. Let's get in the deep end of the river now, OK?
Trevor screamed for help. He knew he was alone. Trevor wanted to reach down to try and pry the grip off his ankles, but it would have made everything worse. Trevor was helpless. Soon, his Shadow would win and take Trevor's life as the reward for victory.
As Trevor sank down, he looked up at the sky. He wanted to look at the sun one more time before going. He stared at the beautiful world around him, a world he soon would never see again. The quicksand and Trevor's Shadow brought him deeper into the world's core.
The quicksand brought him down to his waist. It brought him down to his chest.
Trevor raised his arms in protest as the quicksand gradually rose to the base of his neck, beginning the final part of the burial.