Part II – Evil Sands
Chapter VI – The Ceremony
Ganondorf could tell by the feel of the armor that it was extremely old metal. Usually relics of this age were imbued with very old and very strong magic, as was the case with his soul gem and the spirit medallion. The ceremonial armor, however, didn't have a single trace of magic inside it, save for the innate magic in all things. No magic was used to construct it, no magic was used to enhance it, no magic was used to alter it, and yet the metal was no heavier than his own skin, the straps and slides formed to his body as if it were made for him, and the helmet fit around his soul gem with the slightest of gaps.
"This is old armor, huh?" Ganondorf marveled.
"Older than even the Allmother." Chetana chuckled, "You want to hear the story behind it?"
"There's a story behind it?"
"The Allmother told it to me not too long ago. I'll tell you once we get it all on."
Twelve tied straps, seven clasps, and a stubborn codpiece later, Ganondorf was locked into his armor. Chetana sat him on a nearby stool as she elected to sit on the floor. Ganondorf thought this was strange as she was the one telling the story, but she insisted.
"You remember the story of Din, yes?" Chetana began.
"The first Gerudo king, yes."
"Well, legend has it that Din lived long enough to see the birth of his first and only son. When this prince passed the trials, Din knew his time on earth was shortening so he set to work on a set of armor to celebrate the new king. Using the brightest gold, the finest silver, and the strongest steel, Din made the armor you wear today. With only his hands as tools, Dins fingers took on the glint of metal and his arms turned as black as the hearths coals. But when it was time to crown the new king, Din found that the prince had grown to be selfish, angry, and vengeful.
So, Din melt down the steel spaulders and instead crafted a pair of shoulder guards made of the densest solid rock he could find; the same rock that our temple to the sand goddess is made of. Din gave his son the armor and forced him to wear the stone spaulders as a reminder of the burden he carried as king of the Gerudo. Din's heir, the new king, learned a valuable lesson and he continued to wear those stone shoulders even after the ceremony. And when he outgrew those ones he made himself bigger and heavier ones. Not just in honor of his deceased predecessor, but as a constant reminder of his responsibilities."
Ganondorf looked down at the armor on his body with a newfound respect. But one thing still nagged at his curiosity.
"What about the swords?" Ganondorf motioned to the three blades and two daggers on the floor next to the spaulders.
"Those were made even before the armor. It is said that they were made by the three thieves themselves as an offering to the sand goddess. The gilded sword was made by Nyru and meant to signify the value of the Gerudo people. The layered one with dunes in the steel was made by Din to show the strength of the Gerudo.
And the rusted blade that still holds an edge was made by Farore. It is the oldest and most sacred part of your ceremony but is maintained in its dilapidated state to signify the fragility of our position in the desert. That we do not own the desert, we are part of it. It also teaches humility as the blade may not gleam in the light but the edge is sharp enough to slice the air itself. Finally, those daggers are merits of your accomplishments so no one can doubt that you are qualified to be a king of our people."
"No one except Naberna." Ganondorf said under his breath.
Chetana clicked her tongue against her teeth and waved her hand dismissively, "She is but a chapter in your life. Do you think she's the only one who will oppose you? There are three people on the counsel table, twenty decorated lieutenants and generals, and over two hundred Gerudo in this compound. And each and every one of them will have ideas better than yours."
As Chetana stood, Ganondorf felt a huge weight press down on his shoulders even though the stone spaulders were right in front of him. He leaned on his knees and stared at the floor intensely. It finally donned on him exactly how much was dependent on him as king and, for the first time in his life, he was hoping someone would mess things up. Maybe… maybe I'm not ready to be king after all.
Ganondorf hated waiting. The idea of things out of his control happening where he wasn't while he sat around being worse than useless drove him insane. Soon he would start tapping his fingers, shuffling his feet, pacing, all in an effort to just pass the millennia he had to wait. His mother called them "the fidgets" and referred to his inability to be patient a blessing and a curse. Waiting to see the doctor, fidgeting. Waiting for rations of food and water, fidgeting. Waiting for his mother's sister to give birth to his first real cousin, fidgeting. Even now, waiting for his mother to come back and the ceremony to begin, he couldn't help but fidget.
There was one part of his shoe that didn't agree with being dragged across a certain section of the stone floor. It was the most tantalizing sound that stimulated his brain just enough that he almost forgot about the overbearing boredom that stifled the room. Chetana, however, found the repeated noise to be much less cathartic. Ganondorf stopped as soon as he looked up to find her piercing gaze upon him. But before he could apologize for his fidgeting a loud boom came from outside. It was as loud as thunder but only as harsh as the handmade drum that sounded it. The boom assaulted Ganondorf's ears twice more before being followed by the unmistakable sound of many Gerudo spear shafts hitting the stone ground twice in quick succession. The pattern repeated itself, three drum booms followed by two spear shunts, as if war were right in the courtyard.
"It's time." Chetana said, suddenly right behind Ganondorf.
"What? No! Mother hasn't come back yet. We have to wait for her!"
"She must've been caught up in something she couldn't get out of. Either that or Naberna delayed her. In any case, that's the call and you have to answer it."
"But what about my lines? How do I know what to do?"
Chetana plopped the stone shoulder guards on Ganondorf's neck and the weight caused him to stumble forward out of his seat.
"Don't worry," Chetana reassured, "I'm pretty sure you've got this. Rila wouldn't have knowingly left you without a rehearsal if she didn't think you could do it. Now go out there and claim that birthright!"
Chetana began to push Ganondorf towards the exit to the small enclosure. The boy protested the entire way but Chetana was stronger than he thought and gave him the final nudge out the doorway. When Ganondorf felt the sun's waning rays on the back of his neck he turned around and immediately froze in place. The drum had stopped, the guards' spears went still, and the crowd amassed in the middle of the courtyard, estimated to be over two hundred strong, all turned to face the armored prince. Looking at the giant crowd sent a chill down his spine and acid to the pit of his stomach. There were more Gerudo in the middle of the yard than he even knew existed. The congregation was filled with familiar faces but equally packed with strangers he'd never met in his life.
In front of the crowd, risen on the natural slope of the yard, were all the people he was to greet. Including his mother. When Ganondorf spotted her, he felt relief wash over his body but not enough to completely rid him of panic. He looked to his mother for direction as he shrugged and pleaded with his eyes as inconspicuously as he could. His mother, in return, motioned with her eyebrows and head to the left in a way that could only be described as "Move it!" Ganondorf turned to the left to see the way he had to go. The guards actually made the direction easy as their bodies bordered a path that he was to follow that went straight down one side of the crowd and then right up the divide in the center of it.
Ganondorf took a deep breath and made his first step forward. He should've guessed that the drum and spears would resume but the first beat still caught him off guard. His heart stopped for a second but he continued on walking towards the middle of the massive crowd. The beat, same as before, now matched his footsteps so Ganondorf tried his best to keep his pace at regular intervals. As he made his way towards the middle of the crowd, Ganondorf took fleeting glances at the women watching him march. Most of the audience he knew by name but every so often he'd see someone who was a complete stranger to him. They were all unmistakably Gerudo, red hair styled in many different ways, slim and toned bodies, and the multitude of soul gems they each had adorning their foreheads, but Ganondorf could swear he'd never seen them inside or around the compound before.
The drums and spears brought Ganondorf back from his thoughts as he turned the corner to walk down the center of the crowd. The thoroughfare was lined with more soldiers with spears who drew their swords as he began down the path. As the boy walked past each pair of guards they threw their swords at their feet onto the ground he'd just walked. It was meant to signify the enemies he would strike down and also the legacy he would leave behind. The steely clang they made resounded through the crowd.
Ganondorf finally completed the circuit and as he stepped out from the path the drum and spears hit one final beat together with all the guards shouting "HUAH" to punctuate the end of their percussion. Ganondorf, as he made his way to the Allmother on the left of the crowd, took note that his mother, continuing to look apologetic, was in the middle and Naberna, with her two general lackeys, were on the other end of the crowd looking as smug as ever. The Allmother had on a different shawl than her usual one that was colored orange and white with gold patterns woven into the fine fabric. When Ganondorf approached her, he expected a smile or a welcoming emotion to show on her face, but the Allmother's expression remained as silent and cold as the rock she stood on. Even her opal soul gem seemed to reflect her inexpressive manner and was devoid of the shifting colors it usually had stuck inside it. Only when he was in front of her did he dare to speak.
"Good morning Allmother." Ganondorf spoke as if it were a morning conversation.
The Allmother, unable to contain her underlying care for the child, smirked at the boy's innocence and her soul gem glittered to life. "Louder honey," she whispered back to him, "and don't forget to bow."
"Good morning, Allmother." Ganondorf said loudly this time, filling the crowd with his voice and remembering to bow just in time.
"The sun rises on a new day my son." the Allmother responded in a likewise volume, bowing as much as her aging frame would allow.
The Allmother nodded in approval when she straightened, giving Ganondorf the signal to move on. He turned from the Allmother and he looked at his mother in the middle of the stage. At this point Ganondorf forgot the order in which he was supposed to go. It looked like it was to be his mother as she was in the middle but he felt maybe that was wrong. Then his mother cocked her head slightly and Ganondorf remembered that his second stop was in front of the generals. And that included Naberna. The two other generals, Divya and Indu, looked as though they were cowering in the shadow of the feared Naberna despite being just as tall as her.
The effect only worsened as Ganondorf made his way past his mother and up to the generals. In fact, the woman seemed to grow in height as the prince drew closer; a growing tower of hatred only for him. When he stopped in front of her he realized the real height difference between them was only a few centimeters. If not for those few ticks the two would've been seeing eye-to-eye. This was just enough to give Ganondorf a small boost of morale. Finally, this tower of oppression was no longer a looming threat, but an obstacle only meant to be overcome.
Determination filling his chest, Ganondorf bowed to the generals and said the lines he had just remembered as he did with the Allmother.
"Good Afternoon, Generals." He bellowed with hubris coating his voice.
When he straightened, he waited for the generals to return the gesture and follow with their lines, but none of them so much as twitched a muscle. Ganondorf waited under Naberna's disapproving eye for a good long while; longer than he or anyone was comfortable with. The weights on his shoulders were starting to become painful to hold and the crowd started to have concerned whispers float through it like light winds.
Then Naberna, without bowing, inhaled to begin speaking.
