"Ganon is back, Zelda," whispered Link into Zelda's unfocused eyes. "He's back."
Zelda was silent. Slowly her gaze lowered to her hands and she remained still, lost in thought. Nabooru was studying the edge of her blade, uninterested in the Princess' reaction to the news. Aloarn sat quietly in her chair, still harboring a slight grudge against the Zelda's treatment of Nabooru.
"I apologize greatly for my behavior, Nabooru, Aloarn," said Zelda finally. Her voice was wispy and faint, and Link could see her hands shaking a little. "I did not - I was - no, no excuses will do. It is my right as a Sage, and a bearer of the Triforce peice, to once again seal away this evil." As she said this her voice grew strong again and she looked up at Link, as though to say she were ready to take up arms and go fight Ganon at the very moment. But the Advisor had words that caused her to deflate in confidence.
"He will not be sealed away again, Princess," said Aloarn smoothly, her shining green eyes cutting through Zelda like a knife. Standing from her chair, she walked quietly to the window and looked outside, where the rain clouds had drifted away and left a sunny sky in its place. Zelda turned her gaze from Link, to Nabooru, to Aloarn again.
"Of course he shall be sealed again, we hold the keys, we can trap him -"
"He is stronger now, Zelda," said Link slowly, and Zelda turned to him. "Without even physical form he bears a greater power than that he had two years ago. It is Me'lkmar's lore, the Code of the Gerudo. The Power of Din."
"How came you to know this?" whispered Zelda. Aloarn caught Link's eye from across the room.
"He has read the Scripts. He knows the Ancient Law. He knows of lost honor."
"Yet this is past," said Nabooru irritably. She wanted no time wasted and she stood from her chair, locking eyes with Zelda. "Find your cousin, Alea, for if you left Hyrule in her charge she too must know of this. We have little time. The Scripts told of this return in vague tongues, a warning that we did not heed. Ramil knew of it and was certain it would come to pass. Evil as she is, she is yet wise. Esia h'gi outma l'iu y hkru."
"The Earth will tremble beneath a second shadow," whispered Aloarn softly, her eyes clouding as she looked down into the courtyard below. Link's heart slowed as he looked at her; for brief second, he felt an irresistible need to embrace her.
"The Code has never lied," said Nabooru, snapping Link from his trance. "It tells of all. Yet the Scripts are hazy in memory. It would do better to have them with us now."
"All this is irrelevant," spoke up Aloarn. "The King has returned. He will draw to him all those that are faithful, and some even who are not. He will take back his followers. We have little time to waste."
"Patience, Aloarn. I have one final question, Zelda. It is an incident still unclear to me. Link, on his first encounter with a Gerudo curse, felt the burning Triforce in his hand. Have you, on the shores of Ter'zai, experienced anything similar?"
Zelda shook her head, unable to utter words. Nabooru seemed to think, momentarily.
"You were far away. The Triforce lay dormant in you. Come, Princess. Link, take Aloarn to the courtyard. We will discuss plans there. Have four horses saddled and ready. We leave by this night."
Nabooru walked briskly out of the room, her air one of great haste and importance; Zelda rose to follow, but paused as Link left his seat. Turning slowly, she looked briefly on him.
"I have missed you, Link," she whispered. Link opened his mouth to reply, but something horrible, something completely nauseating, swelled into his throat. She had burned and broken him, torn his heart to pieces, made him suffer long years in an exiled life, roaming the lands for signs of evil. Evil she had denied existed, evil which had returned despite her protests. For a brief moment, Link felt and unequaled hate rise in his chest.
"We will speak again tonight. I must write home to Rothak and tell him I will be delayed. Farewell, dear Link."
Then she turned away from, her dress glittering with vanity, and followed Nabooru from the hall.
Link swallowed the nauseous feeling in his throat and turned to Aloarn, who was looking at him intensely. The depth and understanding of her gaze startled him.
"Aloarn?" he said, the light glinting softly in her emerald eyes. Her gaze broke and she turned suddenly away, seemingly distracted.
"Nabooru told us to meet in the courtyard. But first we should get the horses...come, let's go to the stable and find Epona."
The day was growing late, and Ramil slowed upon her anxious steed. The mare's hooves were sinking into the rough sand and it struggled to keep its footing. Ramil ignored the fidgeting of the horse as she turned her body from the blasting sand-winds that enwrapped the horizon and caused her vision to blur. The Haunted Wasteland was not her preferred landscape, and the Desert did not seem to welcome her arrival. Her deep yellow eyes refused to pierce the walls of swirling sandstorm, and she covered her eyes with a lucid veil for protection. Only five others road with her, inexperienced but nonetheless armed to the teeth, war paint glittering on their sun-tanned bodies. None of them had yet dealt with outcasts, with those of dishonor; they had heard no more than terrible stories passed down by Stars, Advisors, Hka'tie Seniors and Tya'toi Captains. They were no more than extra baggage that Ramil dragged with her as a shield.
The Hka'tie searched through the dust for a shadow, seeking the silhouette of a crouching woman through the blasting winds. The Banished always struck under such conditions; it was prime time to entrap an enemy when they were unable to see the attack.
Her eyes caught something hazy from within the storm, and her instincts kicked into gear. Hearing a step in the sifting sand from beneath the howling winds, she leapt and drew her blade. The mare floundered in the sands but it's dismay was short-lived; a spear flashed through the air, too fast for the wind to carry, and tore swiftly through the great creature's neck. The mare fell with a hoarse scream, and the other women leapt from their horses, seeking to follow the lead of the Senior Gerudo.
Three spears followed the first and two women fell. Ramil crouched low to the earth, fearing the deadly aim of unseen foes, but felt her stomach turn. A low rumbling sounded in the hollows beneath her feet, deep into the crevasses that the sands of the Desert covered. She gasped and, half rolling through the red sands, bolted away as a Desert Worm erupted from the earth beside her in a deafening explosion. The remaining three women screeched as they were pulled down into the sand pits.
She crawled away, sensing with her body the tremors of the earth in case the Worm should re-approach, only to have the back of her shirt grabbed and her scarred body thrown to the ground. She knew their ruthless and the immediate death that awaited her, and followed the custom of Banishment. Throwing out her hand, the freshly burnt star of dishonor scorched through the desert air and the unseen enemies around her paused.
A spear poked her side, and something was hissed in a broken and altered form of the Gerudo tongue. A rusted blade came to her throat, and though she still remained blind, she heard the soft click of their words.
"H'uy tg tairu l'ik o."
Ramil sat up and let two women drag her away. Her response was lost on the wind.
"Take me to Vulhal."
She was brought to an oasis that was overused and quickly turning into desert itself; the water supply was draining and ten woman guarded the last remains with their lives. The number of outcasts were greater than those of the faithful Gerudo, and the women glared at Ramil, the Hka'tie star a mockery of their banishment. Several of these women had once, themselves, been Hka'tie, and they gnashed their teeth at the sight of her. Their faces were scarred with the abuse of a shamed life, the stars and moons washed from their face with blood, the tattoos on their bodies covered with scratches, burns, cuts, and wounds from deadly fights. Some had pieces of armor still on their tense bodies: spiked, iron shoulder plates held on with ropes of leather, or sand-blasted breastplates that covered only half their chest. Belts filled with poisons and cursed sands hung about the waists of women with broken spears, while knives were in the hands of those with armored gloves and string necklaces of dead rattlesnakes. They wore half-masks of melted and misshapen helms, covered in crude paint and dried blood, disfiguring their partly-covered faces into monstrous visions. Women looked up as they killed scorpions and dripped their venom into bowls of sand, where they called upon demons to curse the spell and make it deadlier than poison. Fights broke out constantly as Ramil was dragged, and she saw several women ambushed and killed, whereas their bodies were drawn to a community fire.
They threw Ramil onto the sandy earth before one woman who held more scars than any other Gerudo she had seen. One of her eyes was cut out of its socket and a chunk was missing from her side; her hair was turning grey, but she showed not even the smallest sign of age. The helm she wore was twisted into a warped shape of a viper's head, and there was writing of dishonor and shame written across her entire body. Her entire waist was a giant belt of human skulls - Gerudo, no doubt, that she had killed herself. Ramil pushed herself to her feet and stood, staring fiercely into the eyes of her kinswoman.
"Vulhal. The Poisoned Skull," she spat in disgust.
"Ramil. The Kneeling Wolf," glared Vulhal. She clicked her tongue at the woman beside her, who left and returned with a large platter of food. The guest dish was placed before Ramil, but all it consisted of was one large, strange-looking slab of fire-cooked meat. Ramil's lip twitched at the smell of it and she turned her nose away.
"I do not eat human flesh," she hissed. The Banished around her ground their teeth, knowing the underlying insult that was being directed towards them. Vulhal's one eye lowered.
"You are an Outcast. You will eat what the Banished are forced to eat. Or have you no stomach, my old friend?"
"Take it from me. And do not call me friend, snake," said Ramil, venom seeping from her voice. "I was sent to bring you news. The King has returned to the Fortress."
Silence fell on the group. Women who had been eavesdropping ran to tell the news to other women. The Guards around Vulhal turned and looked at each other uncertainly. Vlhal raised herself from her seat and stared straight into the Hka'tie's eyes.
"You lie."
"Only the King can Banish, Vulhal. I have the mark. He wants you all to return."
Vulhal sank back into her seat, the skulls on her waist jangling slightly. She looked around the oasis at the other women, studying the effect the Banishment had on her fellow Gerudo. From somewhere afar off, the dying scream of a Gerudo drifted through the air.
"Why does he want us? He cast us out, Ramil."
"We are taking Hyrule. His power is great, Vulhal. If you come, he will reward you splendidly. You will have your choice of the kill, and to torture the living enemy as you please"
Vulhal eyes brightened slightly at these words she raised herself in her seat. The other women around her waited, tensely, for her response.
"How can I trust this?"
Ramil locked eyes with the dreaded outcast and sank down onto her knees. Reaching down, she picked the slab of meat off the platter and gazed straight into her eyes.
"Trust in me, my old friend."
Then she raised the flesh to her mouth and tore her teeth through it.
Around her, the Banished women let up a hooting chorus of howls and chants. Vulhal's one eye glared in a sinister grin at Ramil, who smiled confidently as she chewed the meat.
