Hero of the Zonai

by bladeofthebookworms

A brutal war between the Zonai and Sheikah peoples sends ripples throughout the kingdom. In the midst of the violence, a young Zonai warrior discovers a mysterious ancestor, who urges him to see beyond the plight of his people. For peace is elusive, and Hyrule's greatest threat has yet to emerge.

4. The Gift of Din

Chapter 4: The Gift of Din

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Khanot

The feast did its best to hide the 'situation' in the south as winter drew closer with each chilled day. Every table was laden with silver platters, cutlery, and gem-studded goblets. The delightful aroma of finely roasted meats and vegetables hung on the air, the scents of specimens and spices from every region of Hyrule joining together like a vast choir. Colorfully dressed nobles and noblewomen drifted through the hall, conversing with friends and associates while signaling servants with gestures so that they did not have to stop gossiping to have their wine glasses refilled.

Helena, Queen of Hyrule, had absently made that sign enough times already that her faculties were beginning to vanish like the logs on the brightly burning central hearth. The volume of her duck-like laughter seemed to tell the passage of time in absence of sunlight through the night-shrouded windows of the palace. Most paid her no mind, as was the norm, and went about their business, and some were even able to pretend that the 'situation' was just a minor, momentary trouble and not a war that threatened the stability of all peoples.

Yet, to Khanot and those like him, the signs were clear. The platters on the tables were barer than ever before, and conveniently lacking fresh foodstuffs from both the lands of Faron and Lanayru. Substitutions had been attempted, a mix of stored supplies and some Hylian-raised beef and carrots taking the place of Zonai and Sheikah exports respectively, but every undimmed tongue knew the difference. The Akkalan and Zoran fish had been cut into smaller portions and artistically arranged on little plates ahead of time, hiding the ever-increasing cost of such goods. Where the food had fallen off considerably, the wine was available in abundance, a perhaps intentional tactic to hide the coming dearth's claws in even the royal kitchen, but it, too, was of a lower quality than normal. The gazes of the cognizant partygoers bore the same echoes, as skepticism, distrust, and unease cracked through even their practiced masks.

For all the King's pretending, the 'situation' was not showing any signs of improving. The Zonai would not surrender their sacred burial grounds. The Sheikah would not abandon their quest to improve their guardian machines. In the wake of their mutual stubbornness, the bodies continued to pile, the smoke continued to rise, and ruin continued to loom like a rising tsunamic tide along the ocean shore. Many were aware of the threat, but what could they do about it?

Khanot himself had been trying for six months. He'd exerted political pressure on the King covertly via his hidden plant in Pelaris's court and through his overt actions in councils, meetings, and other actions to vie for peace. He'd snuck the young—and strange—red-haired Zonai artificer into his kingdom to share his invention of the matchlock firearm and design a mass-producible version for his craftspeople to forge. He put forward incredible sums of wealth secretly bringing metals from the Gorons through Lady Tabanth to maintain their production. Khanot had even been forced to murder two of the Hylian tax collectors on his docks to protect his illegal but flourishing maritime trade with the Zonai, using their strung-up bodies to force the others into compliance.

It was not enough. Khanot, King of the Gerudo, had not been able to muster the power to enforce his will upon Hyrule. The thought caused his hand to tighten on the silver goblet he held, his fingers seeming to leave an indent in the metal.

"Short of withdrawing my forces from the Zonai border, there's nothing more I can do right now," Lord Marcus Akkalus muttered, running his hand once more through his silver-black hair in frustration. "And that, in all honesty, would worsen our position in the end. Pelaris still thinks I have them there to protect Hyrule's southern border from the Zonai and maintain the trade embargo, so the message would work, but then he'd find out that my troops have been allowing the Zonai to smuggle some things across the border. That would then be the end of quite a few arrangements I'd rather preserve."

"You could always refuse to train any more of his men until he made a serious, neutral bid for peace," Lady Yulia Tabanth suggested, her dark eyes casting curses at the Hylian royals on their thrones at the head of the largest banquet table. "The sudden rise in banditry caused by the sudden drop of his soldiers' patrols and the desperate situation of the now-destitute would certainly draw his gaze."

Akkalus shook his head. "He's got enough good men that he could set up his own training academy if he had the need, and then I wouldn't get to instill any of my 'virtues' in them, which would be a real shame for my purposes."

Khanot knew a fair bit about the extortion and thievery represented by that statement and fought back a frown. He'd never liked Akkalus, considering him a base and selfish creature who saw his rank as a clever excuse to exploit those beneath him. Had the man been born a commoner, he would certainly have become one of the bandits Lady Tabanth hinted at. How he'd managed to become the leader of the regions responsible for the Hylian military's training was either an enigma or proof of the kingdom's decline. It was only happenstance that saw their interests converge on the Zonai's behalf, and Khanot was not happier for his reliance on the justified criminal.

"A rise in crime along the roads would also hurt us," Khanot added before taking another slight sip of the special cactus-made beverage he had brought with him from home. "We do not need a further destabilized Hyrule. It is real leadership and the will to push back against Yagamura that this kingdom craves."

"Well, then that brings us back to my original point," Tabanth repeated for at least the third time, the elaborate braids in her mousey-brown hair magnifying a subtle shake of disapproval. "All we've got going for us is your journey to Zonai lands with the Princess, Khanot, and with that I'm not convinced we're not still in bear country with a bag of moose on our backs."

"I think our odds of success here are better than you give her credit for," Khanot argued, ignoring a certain itchy sensation on the back of his right hand. It often started up when he was in Castle Town.

"And I think you're oddly trusting of a kid with incompetent parentage and questionable upbringing in a time of crisis," Akkalus grumbled.

"The Princess is not at all like her parents. Her intelligence and kind heart are two of our better assets," Khanot disagreed in an ominous tone. "Especially when I ask the Zonai to prepare our route through the bitterest scenes their broken country has to offer."

"Perhaps, but you're missing the point!" Tabanth waved in irritation. "Even with that, all she can do is come home and tell the story. She can't actually do anything. I mean, Khanot, your daughter Nabouri has been governing your capital city with naught but advisement for years already. Zelda is older than her and doesn't have anything to do but kick around town all day and talk to old ladies. And why? Because, for all their talk about 'preparing the next Queen of Hyrule,' Pelaris and Helena don't trust her enough to give her a real say. They know she doesn't approve of their rule and would undermine them if she could; they're not going to let her enact a real solution to anything, let alone this war. Especially when doing so would probably mean turning away from the Sheikah."

Khanot sighed heavily. That was the flaw in the plan, though he was loath to admit it. Zelda's only hope was to change Pelaris's mind in a private conference.

"Well, you know, something could always 'happen' to the King," Akkalus muttered, quieter than ever, turning to glance at the man in question laughing with a pair of Sheikah at a kind of dance an unarmed mini-guardian machine was performing for them. "He's fairly fat, not very healthy, and one never knows how safe the wine is these days, what with so much ill will in the nation. Goddesses know it's tasting worse these days."

Khanot's heart picked up its pace ever so slightly in response. It was not the first time Marcus had hinted at such an idea. More impactful was the notion that Akkalus could actually muster the forces to make such an attempt. Whether or not he could succeed was a different matter, but that ability alone lifted the comment far past idle expressions of disgust.

"Not funny, Marcus," Tabanth said, a weight of real fear settling over her black-outlined blue eyes.

Akkalus shrugged and turned back to his allies. "If you're joking, I'm joking, of course. I'm only saying that without something like that, you don't have a prayer, Khanot."

"I don't think you should say things like that even in jest," Tabanth said, her voice falling into a whisper. "You don't know the avalanche that could be waiting for us."

The change in her demeanor troubled Khanot, and the fear in her reactions became his focus.

"What are you on about, Yulia? We've been basically discussing sedition all evening and you've been a merry participant. Why's it now that you've gone squirrel?" Akkalus poked, gesturing at her with his nearly empty goblet.

"No, we've been discussing politics and the kind of scheme we've already been deeply involved in for months. That's different."

"You know something," Khanot stated.

"I… yes. I was planning on telling you two this in private after the feast but… I suppose now will do. The day before I left for this event, my two oldest sons were coming back from a hunt. They told me that when they were approaching our city from the forest side, they caught sight of three Sheikah men in the woods. Then, as they watched, the men… changed. Don't ask me how, but they started doing something, and when they were done, they were Hylians."

Khanot and Akkalus traded a deeply concerned glance.

"As in, they disguised themselves as Hylians?" Khanot inquired, his hand clasping the hilt of the antique sword he'd been given from the ruins of the Arbiter's Grounds those six months prior.

"I suppose. I don't know. My boys tried to follow them back home but lost them in the marketplace. I'm not sure it matters, though. Whether it's really fine costumes or actual magic, somehow, they made themselves look convincingly Hylian. No more red eyes, no more white hair. With a power like that, who knows who's working for Yagamura? Any of these servants could be his men. Maybe all of them are. If so, they haven't seemed to care about our activities so far. We've been doing all this long enough anyway that it's not like we could hide it at this point. He'll know what we've been up to, given the time."

A pair of servants approached then, seemingly to check on the trio and refill their glasses. Tabanth held her peace until they had passed and continued to glare at the backs of their heads while she continued.

"If he goes to the King about it, we have a chance to talk ourselves out of any real punishment. Pelaris wouldn't want to do more than slap our wrists and tell us to stop. Even with the Sheikah breathing down the back of his neck, we can still trust him to be spineless. But plotting something that could actually disrupt the Sheikah's control and long-term goals? I don't want to talk about anything like that here."

Akkalus took to stroking his bushy salt-and-pepper mustache in pensive silence, his gaze calculating. Khanot felt cold coalescing in his chest. He knew better than anyone that there were powers beyond reason in the world. It had never been impossible for Yagamura to possess some, but knowing for a fact that he did was very different indeed. Not knowing the limitations was worse. Could his men turn into anyone from any race? Did Khanot now have to vet and distrust every single face that crossed his path? The possible fates of their illicit activities chilled him further. Akkalus and Tabanth were among Khanot's closest allies among the Hylians and essential to his delicate stabilization of the Gerudo economy.

If the King found out what they were doing, Khanot would be denied his source of Goron metal, among other goods. Without firearms and ammunition, the Zonai would fall before Yagamura. What would the Sheikah and their puppet do to his people then, when the victorious set out to punish the defeated and all those that supported them? What would happen to the already struggling markets and craftspeople of the Gerudo when they found themselves at the mercy of hostile and bloodthirsty foreigners? At the thought, the cold began to burn inside him. Yulia's news could hardly have been worse, and as always, the fault boiled down to a single, incompetent, wine-drunk fool.

"It's not enough that Pelaris bumbled into this absurd war to begin with," Khanot growled, his voice like the rumbling of Death Mountain as his gaze fell once more on the laughing king. "Or that he embargoed the Zonai and demanded that we financially support Yagamura's 'research.' It's not enough that he maintains his high taxes even as prices climb taller than his towers. No. Now he's let Yagamura infiltrate even the sovereign nations with his ilk. We could lose everything, and all because that dung beetle doesn't have the intelligence, will, or power to be the king of his own blasted kingdom!"

The Gerudo King slammed his goblet down on the table hard enough that it sloshed over the white tablecloth, drenching and surely staining it with magenta liquid.

"I won't stand for this. I won't let him win," he continued, his glare finding the Sheikah leader standing with a circle of his own behind the king. Hatred pulsed in his veins like fire, escalating his heart and causing the itch on his hand to intensify into the burning of a hot iron. "Not without a fight."

"And what do you intend to do?" Akkalus prodded. "Look, you know I'm for opposing the Sheikah and the king too, but this certainly changes our strategy. If Yagamura actually has these undetectable spies lurking around now, it's just a matter of what he convinces Pelaris to do to us. So, maybe it's time to admit that we've been outplayed before things get worse."

"By which you mean grovel to the Sheikah and convince him to show us mercy after half a year of opposition?" Khanot spat.

"By which I mean that we each have our own interests. So far, they've aligned with the Zonai cause, but if that is over, then it's over. There's no sense mourning a ripped sail. Maybe it's time to let the Zonai drown and work out a place in the new world order."

"No. I won't accept that. I was not made king to let some sniveling Sheikah put my people under his thumb and do what he pleases to them," Khanot continued. "The only world order I am interested in having a place in is the one where my people are safe, and that world is one in which I and the Gerudo are sovereign."

"That's just talk unless you've got a solution to the spies or are willing to do something big. Either way, I'm all ears," Marcus shrugged.

The Gerudo king's eyes went to the front of the room, where Pelaris, Helena, Yagamura, and their sycophants continued entertaining themselves. He tightened his grip on the sword at his waist. Unlike the Hylian-made goblet, it didn't deform under the pressure. It was strong enough to endure him and to serve his purpose. No one would pay any mind to him approaching the King. He was, after all, a world leader accustomed to communicating directly with others of his rank. They wouldn't even be able to scream until after his sword was drawn. Pelaris and Helena would be dead before anyone knew. Then, he would go for Yagamura. In a single, shameless act, he could erase the powers that threatened his people. The brutal simplicity of the plan filled him with a strange sense of euphoria. In its wake, the desire to act grew. He could do it, and he would succeed.

But then what? Khanot looked around and took a swift headcount of the servants. If Yulia's theory was right and the Sheikah had people disguised amongst the servants, that would be a problem. He would find himself surrounded by knives. Even if he could fight them all, he didn't have a solution for the Hylian military, in whose seat of power he currently stood. Sure, he had his honor guards, but they would not be able to resist the might of Castle Town closing in on a traitor. He would perish for the attempt and leave the world in the air like a vase thrown from a balcony. Who would be left to catch it?

"Khanot?" Lady Tabanth asked again. "Are you alright?"

Khanot forced himself to take a deep breath. Reluctantly, his hand departed the hilt of his sword. As he began to cool, the insanity of his impulse stunned him. His act of sudden aggression would do nothing but render his people international pariahs and throw the kingdom into further chaos. Nabouri and his people would be no better off. If violence was the answer, he had to have a plan and the power to put it into reality. He needed an answer to Yagamura's invisible men. And he might have one.

"Yes. I might be able to solve the Sheikah spy problem." Both pairs of eyebrows shot up. "Give me some time. I'll talk to you both in safer circumstances later."

Akkalus wasn't pleased, but also seemed to get the message that Khanot was in no mood to debate in Pelaris' infiltrated court.

"Keep safe, Khanot," Yulia pled.

With that, he departed, collecting his force of four honor guards outside the hall and letting them lead the way to his Castle Town estate. The walk between their torches felt long and dark that night, and though the chill was deeper than it had been when he had run into Zelda in the market earlier, he did not feel it. His thoughts dashed like wildfire, sometimes to fury, sometimes to careful planning, so much that he was barely aware when they stepped through his outer defenses to the estate.

It was unfortunately a Hylian-style manor, but his predecessors had done their all to decorate it like home with sandstone sculptures, gold and emerald hangings, banners representing the Gerudo and the Heroines, and even golden-brown tiles of a granite that resembled the stones of Gerudo City and Qaijkarah. Khanot had added his own sun-emblazoned banners and hangings, as well as a memorial to Rajiya. This memorial, meant to reflect her honor in a place he was not supposed to frequent, had taken the form of a tapestry. It showed a touching scene of Khanot and Rajiya walking with a much younger Nabouri beneath an image of a woven jasmine crown like the ones he made for her back home. When he had first commissioned it, he had planned on only needing to see it on the rare occasions when he couldn't be home. How things had changed. Khanot could hardly believe how precarious things had become. His resolve did not weaken for it. He was the King of the Gerudo, the very symbol of power. There was more he could do.

"Tahira?" he asked, his eyes still locked on the scene of him, his wife, and daughter, all joyfully together, before everything went wrong.

"Yes, my king?" the captain of his honor guard answered at once.

"Who did I commission for this tapestry here? Do you remember his name?"

"My lord?"

"His name. Do you remember?"

"It…was not a 'he.' It was two Rito women and one of our own. Suhad was the Gerudo weaver. I do not recall the Ritos' names."

Khanot nodded and said, "That's good enough. We have a situation, Tahira. I have good reason to believe that Lord Yagamura of the Sheikah has been infiltrating our ranks with traitors in disguise. Supposedly, they can take the shapes of other people. I need you to search this estate and confirm that we are safe here. Ask every soul questions like what I asked you, things that outsiders should not know. If you find anyone suspicious, lock them up tight."

"At once, my king," Tahira said, placing her spear-clutching fist over her heart in salute and taking her leave.

Khanot climbed the stairs to his personal quarters. Coals glowed in his hearth, the bones of a fire tended by Kotake, who was napping in a rocking chair beside it. Khanot drew a split half-log from the nearby wood rack and nestled it deeply into the coals. Smoke instantly began to rise, a promise of fire shortly to come.

"Ahh, welcome back, Khanot," Kotake greeted him, stirred from sleep. "I assume the party was as fun as always?"

"It was…very informative," the king of the Gerudo answered, watching the intensifying smoke before him, its glow illuminating the chamber with uncertainty.

"Oh? Better than usual then, I'll take it. Or at least more exciting. Well, do tell!"

Khanot did not answer immediately, reconsidering his thoughts while the first threads of fire began to lick the piece of pine in the hearth. His plan could work. But what of the cost? Seeing the tapestry downstairs gave him reason to doubt.

"Kotake," he started, slowly, "Do you remember the day all those years ago when Rajiya and I fell into the vipers' pit in the desert?"

"What brings this on?" she mused.

"I have a few reasons."

He said no more, and she accepted the silence. "Very well. Yes, of course, I remember. What about it?"

"Can you tell me the story again, as you experienced it?"

Kotake gave him an intrigued expression and raised an eyebrow but complied.

"It was a troubled day of much emotion. The three of us were on our way to the Tamathil of the Heroines with the royal entourage after taking a detour to visit a few fringe communities. We stopped for lunch beside the Three Spires rock formations. You and Rajiya had been bickering about something petty along the road, proving that you were still in fact the immature teenagers your lanky limbs said you were. I don't remember what it was about, but at some point, you got mad and threw one of the ceremonial spears at a rock at the base of one of the spires. Rajiya ordered you to go and pick it up. There was some more bickering, but she convinced you and off you went. Next thing we knew, you vanished. The guards started for you, but Rajiya was faster. She sprinted to where you'd been like the wind itself. Then, she was gone too. The guards reached the spot more carefully, and I heard words that no mother ever wants to hear. Vipers. The ground had given way beneath you, and you fell into a pit of vipers. When Rajiya reached the edge, it took her too."

Kotake shuddered, reliving the day.

"It was hopeless," she continued. "There was no way we'd be able to get you out and to a healer in time to beat the inevitable large dose of venom you were both about to receive. Then the miracle occurred. You began to glow, then roared, the sound more like a great beast or lion than yourself. Tendrils of red flame burst from you, but instead of burning snakes, it went into them. Their eyes began to reflect the same reddish, magenta color as your flames. Somehow, you ordered them to depart, and like mortal subjects, they obeyed. They gave you space while the guards lifted the two of you out by extending the hafts of their weapons. When you were both on the surface, you said something like, 'Let these vipers never trouble a Gerudo again' and waved your arm. An awful sound greeted us. By then I had reached you two, and only once the sound was over did I chance a glance into the pit. I was astonished by what I saw."

"The vipers were dead to the last," Khanot finished, nodding.

He felt it all as she told the story, the trivial anger, then the fear for his life, and the stronger fear for Rajiya's life. She would not die because of his mistake. He used the power the witch he once called 'mother' had shown him. It filled him with its special anger, a fury unlike any other, an inferno of rage and a compulsive need to be obeyed. He raised his hand, consumed by hatred of the vipers, and twisted their minds until they felt for each other what he did for them. When their blood had been shed and the fires faded, he felt horrible. How could he order a family to destroy each other like that, even a family of beasts? It was as if he'd just drank a great deal of black oil and spoiled liquor. The image of the guard's spear came to mind, blackened and burned where his hand had clasped it. It reminded him why he had fled 'mother's' cave to begin with. Her power was evil. It filled him with a feeling of filth and vile, reflecting that it was a force of hatred and violence that could only destroy.

Khanot never wanted to be a man of destruction. His true wish had always been to rule with wisdom and strength. With power, yes, but not cruelty. One of the reasons he'd fled his home to integrate with his people was to escape that evil. When he found that it had followed him, he promised himself that he would only use it in the direst circumstances. The opportunity came, years later, when once more, he feared for the life of his love. Now, he relied on tapestries and crowns to preserve her memory.

"So, now that we've relived that cheery day, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" Kotake said, poking his side with her cane.

"I have a problem." Khanot explained the results of the feast, sharing the dread fear of Yagamura's shapeshifting spies pointed out by Lady Tabanth. Kotake listened with rapt attention and took several moments to think before answering once he finished.

"Hmm. Interesting indeed. So that's why you wanted me to tell the story. You're making sure I'm me. Well, I am not surprised that Yagamura has figured out how to utilize this power. The Sheikah were worshippers of shadows long before they were the artificers of machines. I suppose I just thought they'd lost those arts, but it makes sense that they didn't. The old ways certainly fade, but never vanish."

As he knew too well.

"Worshippers of shadows?" Khanot asked.

"Yes. Once, the Sheikah were known for tricks of invisibility, changing appearance, seeing spirits in darkness, and perhaps even conjuring them to travel across time and space. Then, somewhere along the line, they decided that they'd rather invent than delve into the darkness. Or, at least, most of them did. In this generation it's certainly fueled by all their talk of a great coming 'Calamity.'"

Khanot let that sink in, turning his back to the fire and examining the twisting shadow of himself cast by its light. "So, these Sheikah could be capable of much more than just changing their appearance."

"It is a possibility," Kotake nodded. "Which is not very reassuring at all, I understand. It certainly casts a few rays of doubt on your plans with the Zonai. And increases the risk of this journey you will be taking with the princess here soon. It is imperative that we discover whether Yagamura's Sheikah can take the shape of Gerudo. He might choose to punish your opposition by tampering with that mission."

Khanot agreed. He had already been thinking of several of the ways that shapeshifters could interfere with the plan. If they were bold enough, they could even harm Zelda and pin it on him, and there was the end of his place in the world. The thought, though filled with doubts and dread, also managed to multiply his resolve. At long last, he'd answered the question of the attack on the factory in Gotafalla. The Zonai were not behind it from the start. Lord Yagamura staged the war with one of his shapeshifters. It was all his fault from the beginning. The other pieces fell quickly into place with that realization. All of the pain, misery, and loss the kingdom had experienced had been that man's doing all along. The Gerudo king felt the fury from the feast rise within him again.

"And so, the time has come for me to figure out what I can do about it," Khanot rumbled. "Kotake, I know you know more about the ancient ways than you let on. What can you tell me about the power my mother taught me?"

Kotake rose from her chair slowly on her ancient, arthritic limbs, came to his side, then asked, "Khanot, I know how you feel about it. Are you sure you want to know?"

He suppressed a shudder. He wasn't sure. But if he did nothing, there was no telling what price his people would pay. In that light, he was willing to do what he could. Had there been a way to do it cleanly, he would have killed the King, Queen, and Yagamura right there and then in the banquet hall of Hyrule Castle. The power terrified him, but it was power, and that was exactly what he needed.

"I am sure," he eventually agreed.

"Very well. It is often called the Might of the Ancient Kings, but is more accurately the Gift of Din. It is a power that the sons of the Gerudo have had for centuries, though it ultimately derives from the very dawn of time. When the Three Golden Goddesses gave form to this world, they also created an artifact of their three primordial forces, a balance of Wisdom, Courage, and Power. Through this artifact, they established an order, a logic by which the world would run. However, by placing their lingering influence into the artifact, their creative processes ceased. It became stagnant and purposeless, like a jeweled crown locked in a tomb. So, in time, the Golden Goddesses decided that the artifact's unity was antithetical to their purposes, for why establish their tripartite virtue in the world only to seal it all away as one?"

Kotake looked into the fire as she told the tale, her eyes glistening with the glory of old and the reflected blaze. Every word reverberated in Khanot, seeming to echo through his very bones. He almost felt like he knew what she was going to say next. Was that just a relic of his mother's old influence in telling him such stories?

"And so, they called upon the first of our great kings to sunder it. He stepped into the hidden realm where the artifact was sealed and divided it. Once freed, the fragments naturally sought their rightful bearers. Upon the Hylians came the fragment of Wisdom, the gift of Nayru. Upon the men of the forests, the ancestors of the Zonai, came the fragment of Courage, the gift of Farore. And at last, upon the great King of the Gerudo himself, fell the fragment of Power, the gift of Din. The three brought their gifts back to their peoples and established dynasties of glory. As the rightful king of the Gerudo, you are part of that lineage, and are thus inheritor of the gift of Din. However, this gift, this Might of the Ancient Kings, is not impressed by lineage alone. It also seeks strength, and like a wildfire in dry grasslands, it will consume the weak that dare to stand before it. However, to the strong, those capable of taming it, it is a force without equal."

He knew well of what she spoke. Sickened and afraid, he never dared access the power. Its test came nonetheless on another sandy road when something much greater than a pit of vipers threatened his family. That time, he had failed. The power overflowed, uncontrollable, and like the fire Kotake compared it to, it consumed everything. The molduga that destroyed their guards fell in steaming ruins. But when the sensation of strength departed, Khanot was alone. Rajiya, my love! I am so sorry.

"So, that's it, then. I am too weak," Khanot admitted, biting back a burning in his eyes. "For all my talk of power and glory, it knew me from the start. It only took this war to reveal how little I truly was. That is why my kingdom faces failure. I am not strong enough."

"No," Kotake said, wrapping him in an embrace. "No, Khanot. It wasn't your fault. The mistake was mine. I saw that you eschewed it and thought it an act of wisdom. Many of our kings, especially in recent generations, have chosen not to embrace it, and have faced its test without being consumed or giving it kindling in their souls. But they faced it with knowledge. Your mother's zealotry taught you to despise it. Had she not been so fanatical, you may have learned to accept it as a choice instead of a threat. If I had recognized that you feared it instead of rejected it, I may have been able to encourage you to meet your test on your terms. I should have known better. But it is not too late. You are strong, Khanot. You have the power within you to shake this kingdom to its very foundation. All you have to do is see it for what it is: a gift of fire from the Golden Goddesses for you, the true King of the Gerudo. It is deadly and beautiful, but you can face it, bind it, and save us all."

Kotake's inspiring words continued to reverberate. Something deep inside Khanot believed her. It agreed, and as he focused on it, he felt the itching sensation on the back of his right hand. Raising it to sight, he saw the dim outline of a triangle in gold, glowing against his dark skin. The mark of the gift. Studying it, he felt the power deep within him. It stirred, a writhing well of acid at the pit of his stomach. Simply reaching towards it filled him with the sickly feeling of oil and waste once more. He wanted to flee and leave it there, unseen, unknown, unconsidered. But his people needed him. Hyrule needed him. In absence of the other two bearers of the golden gift, he alone had the power to right the kingdom and restore its natural order. He had to try. Perhaps it was only alien because he never mastered it.

"If I can conquer this power, I can do something about Yagamura. I can stop this war on my terms, punish Pelaris, and restore the proper prosperity of our people."

"Perhaps. But fire is not to be directed so vaguely. You must have a specific goal in mind, if you are to face it again."

Khanot studied the coals in the hearth once more, imagining the force within his own core to be much the same. It was rather magenta, wasn't it? That wasn't too different. And fire could be tamed. The ancient people of Hyrule had been forced to do so to survive, to learn to cook, to fight the winter chill. Necessity drove their courage. It could do the same for him.

"I want to know about Yagamura's shapeshifting spies," he eventually said. "Kotake, you should leave. I do not want to hurt you."

"You cannot fear it," she said instead, facing him, her right eye still reflecting firelight. "If you have the will to conquer it, I am in no danger. If you do not, then I am no worse off than anyone else."

Khanot took a deep breath, then reached into the well within him. Instantly, the power roared to life like a blaze stoked by bellows. It ran along his limbs from shoulder to fingertips, from hip to toe, from heart to the top of his head. It raged, filling him again with that anger, the incurable hatred, the overwhelming need to command, to rule, to be obeyed, to shape the world in his image. It was the might of the Golden Goddess of power which once sundered the vast unformed void of the night sky to give a place for the others to create a world, and it remembered that role. It remembered the place where it happened, an unformed vortex of spinning gray clouds atop a motionless sea of water, devoid of all except potential and the flame of ambition. That flame grew brighter, enveloping him, consuming him. Khanot struggled before it, his knees began to buckle, his face twisted with pain as it enveloped him.

"Fight it, Khanot! You can prevail!" Kotake's voice reached out to him through the haze. "You are not its vessel. You are its master!"

Khanot strained against the invisible force, internalizing Kotake's words, and in a flash of agonized epiphany, he saw the truth in them. She was right. He was its master.

"By…my…crown!" he growled. "Obey me!"

As if someone doused him with water, the raging suddenly began to subside. The pain receded, but unlike before, the power did not likewise fade. It remained, a cold fire of ambition and potential, a cosmic clay that was his to shape. Khanot observed it with awe and looked at himself glowing with the magenta sign of Din's power. Without the torment, only the hatred remained, but it was without direction. He thought of the Sheikah, Yagamura, inventing his machines at the cost of all Hyrule. He imagined the creations bearing down on Qaijkarah, devouring the woven jasmine crown left upon a vacant throne. The hatred gained a target. All it needed was a directive.

"I command you, flame of Din! Reveal Yagamura's secrets and bring them to me. Find his spies. Strip them of their disguises. See that they do no more to harm my cause!" Khanot ordered, his voice seeming strained and distorted by the power.

In reply, the power began to take shape. His shadow flickered in the firelight, then began to thicken, almost coalescing. Soon, dark lines became arms and legs, the central mass became an armored torso, and the vague waves on the top became a crown made of the horned skull of an unknown beast. Then, fully formed, the armored monstrosity tore itself free of Khanot's outline and stood in the hall. It was almost identical to Khanot in statute and appearance, save that he had never worn its armor before. Before he could examine it more, it faced him with its burning eyes. He wanted to jump, to widen his own with fear, but something within him warned that if he did, it would destroy him. He had to remain the master.

"You have heard my will. Now, obey!" he barked.

"I…serve…" the shadow mumbled, its voice not much different from his own. It bowed before Khanot. "Great…King!"

Then, with surprising grace, the creature rose, strode to the window, and vaulted into the night. Khanot and Kotake rushed to the sill to see its fall. No body lay crumpled against the cobblestones beneath them. Instead, a strange cloud tinged with crimson moved swiftly against the moon, racing away to the west.

"You did it!" Kotake exclaimed, embracing Khanot once more.

"I…we shall see. I am not sure what exactly it will accomplish," Khanot said, collapsing into his bed. With the power receded, he felt empty and fatigued, and filled with innumerable doubts. Blessed Heroines, what had he just unleashed upon the world?

"It matters not what it does now. You have embraced the gift and lived. In time, the path forward will be clear to you. You will triumph, good king. And when you do, all Hyrule will be in awe of your glory."

Khanot trusted her. His head slumped back, and within moments, he fell asleep. A dreamworld embraced him, filled with strange sensations of racing across a pale night sky, eyes peeled for a flicker of violet light.