Majora's War - Part 8


-Link-

The Majora knew how to party!

Link entered into the main hall and gaped at what he saw. With the sheer number of people in the party, it was taken outdoors while a separate party and feast occurred in the main hall. Link and Soli were among the few allowed into the main hall's party. Like the Qin, there was food and drink provided by the plenty.

"Waiter! Food!" Link beat his fists on the table repeatedly. "Food! Food! Food! Fo-"

"Get it yourself, you lazy bitch!"

Someone punched him in the back of the head and without warning he found himself in the middle of a wild scuffle over the food.

However, unlike the Qin, the Majora were different. There was no waiter. You had to serve yourself and if what you wanted was in short supply you had to sneak, steal, wrestle, bite, and fight to get it. Food on anyone's plate was fair game. If a wolf jumped on your table and snagged a mouthful, you were too weak to deserve it. He was no stranger to mass scuffles, but these people took it much further than he did with his unit! At one point a table was flipped and Link had to use his Gift multiple times to reverse being kicked in the balls. People were thrown, furniture was broken, and Link smiled so much he could giggle. There were men and women from clans and tribes he didn't know existed all engaged in the scuffle! The Dragmire present seemed hesitant, having never seen the like of such a party, but like Link, they were too hungry to question it.

Nabooru sat the chief's table, with Matsubi as her guest. He sat by nervously silent, a bit fearful in the presence of a predator who took every opportunity to make her appetite, both sexual and not, apparent. This table was the only one where there was no chaos, although with how Nabooru treated Matsubi, it could be considered a chaos of its own. If she draw one more set of claws over his thigh he feared she would draw blood. He dreaded the thought she would go so far, and be so blunt, as to directly grab his manhood. She does eventually.

The unbridled chaos came to an abrupt end as the doors flung open and Ganondorf Dragmire stood in the doorway. Every Majoran, Soran, Baji, Chouga, Kabanko, Kyuumei, Feego, Mera, Enshu, and Dragmire stopped on seeing him. The men and women and animals stop fighting and stepped aside for him as he entered the room.

"What's gotten into them?" Link wondered between mouthfuls. "Its just Grumpy-Dick."

Solitare narrowed her eyes and watched the crowd. While Link was covered in bruises, she was untouched. She had easily avoided the scuffle. "The Majoran and their wolves are in awe of him."

"What is awe?"

"Respectful fear," Solitare explained. "But the others look like they are afraid of him, even despising him. Except for the red-headed Dragmire. They seem uncertain."

"Makes sense," Link swallowed. He put down the food in his hands and watched closely. "Grumpy-Dick was the Majoran leader when I met him. He likely had earned some respect to do it, and while their leader he grew Majora several times over by, well, conquering the others. The Dragmire would never have met him."

Nabooru's voice echoed through the hall, "Ganondorf Dragmire, it is good of you to join us. Why don't you come and sit?"

-Ganondorf Dragmire-

Ganondorf scanned the crowd. What he saw troubled him deep in his gut. All around was fear. For some the fear was naked, and for others it was hidden, but they all feared. Even the Majoran and Dragmire, his people by adoption and people by blood, had their shades of fear. It wasn't as hateful, as what he saw in the rest, but it was still fear. All of their eyes were on him, making him alone against all of them.

The strong will always stand apart from the weak and worthless and cowardly.

He didn't mind being separated out and hated, but then he wasn't the only one seen in such a light. Malon, Kuroko, and the rest of the Dragmire could face the same vision he beheld. He could own up to the consequences of his actions, but why did others have to suffer for it? His efforts were to help them, but it seemed his efforts over the years had only hurt them. The pain was shown plainly to him by the treatment his ward had endured.

He was failing. He had promised to protect the one source of Dragmire innocence and he was failing. As such, he left Malon and Kuroko at home to rest. It would do the girls better if they spent the evening together rather than partying all night.

"Hey Ganon-Grumpy!"

Link jumped onto a table and waved at him cheerfully. Ganon felt his eyes twitch in annoyance. Of course, the Qin teen couldn't read the heavy atmosphere. Or perhaps, just as likely, the young man didn't care. Sometimes it was hard to tell where ignorance ended and willfulness began with him. No matter the case, Ganon sighed, but thanked him inside. The crowd dispersed around him and Ganon walked through them. He approached the alpha's table-

"DON'T IGNORE ME YOU DICK!" A slice of ham hit him in the side of the face.

Ganon sent a silent glare sideways at his attention-seeking friend. Whether it was Ganon's disapproval or his own self-reflection, Link backed down and returned to eating.

Ganon approached the alpha's table. At the head was Nabooru. Next to her, trying not to move but at the same time distance himself from the hand she had resting on his thigh, was Matsubi. Also at the table was a third man he did not know well, but recognized from a recent encounter.

"Ghiradrim," Ganondorf grunted. "It is good to see you are well, but this is the alpha's table." He looked down at the man with snowy skin with disapproval.

Nabooru waved the Dragmire down, "I welcomed him, Ganon. He is a governor of a Qin city. And as both a refugee guest and noble of an ally kingdom with measurable status, I thought him befitting of this honor at the celebretory feast."

Ganon scoffed, but consented. He sat down as well. Ghiradrim smiled apologetically, "I hear you were the former leader. I take it you would not have accepted one such as I?"

"Don't let his attitude fool you, he would have welcomed you here just as much as I have," Nabooru smirked. She waved a finger at Ganon teasingly. "He just likes to act tough."

"You're drunk," Ganon chose to change the subject.

"Not yet, but will be!" Nabooru cheered. If Matsubi's sudden squealing, grunting, and slamming a fist on the table in an effort to contain pain meant anything, then she was accentuating her words with something beneath the table. Ganon rolled his eyes. "I actually wanted to discuss an important matter with you, Ganon."

"As do I."

The matter between the Dragmire and other clans of the Majora was a delicate one. The Betrayer King of Qin brought genocide on the clans, and the survivors fled into the mountains. Ganondorf had been ignorant of the history until these recent years, and had thought nothing of the history, but all this time the clans had held onto the belief that the Dragmire had sparked it. Now in this new generation, he, a Dragmire, had fought and conquered these same clans and forced them into subjugation beneath him. His own actions had not only reinforced the truth that the Dragmire was dangerous but had brought the victims together, here, where he was bringing the Dragmire who had done nothing to garner their reputation.

It was a great fire waiting for that singular spark, that one incident to which would bring a renewed cycle of hatred and war.

-Satakarta-

"Filthy, mongrels..."

Satakarta stopped in his tracks and stepped back into the shadows. He pulled a headcloth tighter around his hair, hiding its glow. From where he hid, he listened.

"I knew the scum were coming, but for there to be so many!?" An angry voice barked. "I can't swing a dead cat without hitting a red-hair demon!"

Why would anyone swing a dead cat?

"I hear you," Another voice agreed. "First its that blasted demon of Majora, and now there are more of them! One was bad enough, but a thousand?! I hear the Demon of Majora turned into a full demon in the war and fought the Qin general, killed him, and continued rampaging, killing as many as fifty thousand all on his own!"

"If they all spark into demons, we're all doomed!"

"We have been met with a horrible fate!"

Satakarta chuckled darkly. He let the headcovering fall away, revealing his stolen hair. Its glow drew the attention of the speakers. He let a knife drop from his sleeve into his spiderly grasp.

"I couldn't agree more."

-Ghiradrim-

"I want you to step up to being a beta as the Dragmire's clan leader."

The words had barely left the female alpha's mouth before the former leader crushed a carven cup in his hand, splashing its contents everywhere. Milk flowed between his fingers and his eyes were wide. He seemed to have stopped breathing momentarily. Ghiradrim kept silent, watchful for how this would proceed.

"No," Ganondorf let go of the imploded cup and flicked away the liquid covering his arm. "I am unfit to lead anyone. I can barely manage myself and my own affairs so how can you expect me to lead and manage others? Did we not just come from a political nightmare with our allies because of my lack of control? A nightmare that was decided by the mutual agreement I would not lead anything until I can promise control?"

"Control?" Matsubi wondered.

Ganon turned smoothly to him and clarified, "That demon that General Mitagi put down? That was me. I have no control over it."

Matsubi jumped up so fast his chair fell and he fell back fearfully. Ganon motioned to the Qin commander while returning his attention to Nabooru, as if to show this proves his point.

"I-I'm just-" Matsubi clung to the walls behind him. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna go."

"Stay boy," Nabooru rolled her eyes. "Ganon is not going to eat your soul."

"I could if you want," Ghiradrim jested with a smile. In truth, he could, but he liked teasing the mortals.

Nabooru leveled an annoyed glance at the 'governor' of Qin, to which he smiled in amusement. "Commander, sit. Ganon, behave."

"I am behaving. You're irrational." Ganon huffed. "This is like asking the wolf to guard the sheep after agreeing with the shepherds to fight it off."

"We agreed with the Qin heir that you would not be in a position of leadership-"

"What do you think this is?!"

"And that you would have no part in affairs between the states. The Princess did not resist the idea of you being a champion among us." Nabooru finished.

"This kind of loop-hole seeking is beneath you."

"It was before seeking it became my occupation. I still seek what is beneficial for our mutual alliance, but you know my first and foremost attention is on us. You have never been one to search out gaps in words, and have long left me with the management of state because of your refusal to do so. Admit it, you know this is where we belong."

Ganon huffed, roped his arms together, and looked up stubbornly. Ghiradrim chuckled inside. For being such a large man, the Dragmire could be a bit of a man-baby.

After a time, Ganon said, "I do not deny there is some benefit to the thought. Who better to lead the Dragmire from within the Majora clans than a Dragmire who has lived among the Majora and has relations with the betas and alpha. A Dragmire on positive terms with all of our allies. Yet even so, I am unfit."

"But-" Nabooru started, but Ghiradrim stepped in. He had a thought and way to position himself easily.

Ghiradrim said, "My lady, I am afraid I must agree with Lord Ganondorf Dragmire. ("I'm not a Lord anymore...") You see, leaders require many fine qualities. I have no doubt the man has the bearing to strike proper fear into malcontents and rebels. Anyone can plainly see he is positioned favorably as to have proper influence in this world. The man has shown himself to be thoughtful and educated. His power speaks for itself. ("First you agree with me and then you list qualities helping her?") Yet even so, greater than position, charisma, and power, is the willingness to burden oneself. A leader must be separated, special, and looked upon with awe. In a word: Holy. This is a divine attribute and not one to be taken lightly. A crown, even to be worn in leading few, is as much feared by princes' as it is hungered because of its weight. So for a man to say he does not desire it, I can only say he is of the right mind and is less mad than we who have taken it. Kudo's to you! You are wiser than I!" Ghiradrim raised his cup to Ganon. "Further, what kind of a leader is one who takes it begrudgingly? And what kind of leader is one comparable to a drunkard? I mean no offense, but if your control over yourself is as you say, then you would make a very unstable leader just as a drunkard would."

Ganon nodded in agreement. Nabooru glared at the albino. Matsubi clapped, in awe of Ghiradrim's eloquence. "Don't clap." Nabooru hissed. Matsubi stopped.

"It is more than that," Ganon whispered. He avoided everyone's gaze. "My lack of control doesn't just extend toward politics, but my relationships and... possible death. I am on borrowed time. The first time I transformed, I was saved by the Fae forcibly baptising me. The second time, the Mitagi general defeated me with a weapon of holy fire. The third time, it took my soul being forcibly ripped from my body. I am lucky beyond belief as it is that my demonic soul has been contained three times hence. Who is to say that can happen a fourth time? My control has not increased with each transformation, but rather stagnated. The next time I lose control may be my last. I will not have my allys and family depend such high importance on a dead man."

Nabooru studied Ganon long and hard. She sighed, "Are you sure this is what you want, Ganon?"

"I'm sure."

"If I may, if it is not what you wish, then what is it you desire?" Ghiradrim struck with his words. He looked into Ganon's eyes, and the spell took hold. Ganondorf looked back mesmerized, as a rabbit before a dancing snake. Ghiradrim's white eyes turned black, a feature that could only be seen by Ganon as he was the target.

"I..." Ganon whispered. He didn't respond at first. Men of strong wills rarely answered immediately, but slowly, surely, inevitably, they did fall to Ghiradrim's spell. "I want to be free of this mortal cage and return to my Goddess' side."

Ghiradrim blinked, breaking the spell, and Ganon blinked in surprise, looking mildly confused and dazed. Ghiradrim smiled warmly, "Oh, is that so? How unusual. You must be truly saintly." Nabooru coughed in surprise.

"I-" Ganon tried, but couldn't phrase himself. Ghiradrim's influence took time to shake off.

"Would that explain the mark upon your hand?"

Ganon's eyes briefly fell on his hand where the mark of power lied.

Ghiradrim leaned forward intently. "Do not take me for a fool, my lord Dragmire, I am a most learned man. I know legends, tales, myths, and history. I am wise enough to discern myth from truth, and I recognize what you bear as a mark of the Triforce."

"The what?" Ganon wondered.

"Oh? Your Fae never told you?" Ghiradrim chuckled. "No matter. It is quite simple. It is an artifact of great potential. I have been called the wish-maker, because I help those in need, but compared to the power of the holy Triforce, I am little more than an insect. When the Triforce pieces are brought together, any wish can be made. It is to hold the very power of the Triple-Goddess in your hand for a moment."

Ganon's eyes widened as Ghiradrim spoke. When the albino was finished, no one spoke for a moment.

"Amazing..." Matsubi whispered.

Ganon stared into Ghiradrim's eyes. He blinked as realizations came over him and facts and pieces fit together. Ghiradrim could see the thoughts work themselves out in his eyes, "I-I think you may be right. There was a battle I was in where my foe ripped the marks from myself and two others, and in the moment they were brought together there was a great change. His... body started to restore itself to its youth, the sky and moon changed, and the world shook."

"I remember that!" Matsubi gasped.

"I thought that the magic of the Twilight monsters." Nabooru commented. "So it was this foe of yours bringing marks together, three as yours?"

Ganon nodded.

"That would be the Triforce. A power given by the Triple Goddesses themselves for the single purpose of granting any wish, no matter how great." Ghiradrim reinforced to him. "It is written that apart the pieces offer great power and fate smiles on the wielders, but when brought together the pieces can do anything."

"Anything?" Matsubi wondered.

"Anything."

"Like, make my family a nobility?"

Ghiradrim chuckled, "My lord commander, that is a waste of its power, but yes. You could rewrite time if you wished. Remake the world. Make a wish that you were god-emperor of creation, and you would be. You could even ask to be a god and it would be so."

As they spoke, Ganon turned in his seat enough to look back into the crowd where Link sat. Ganon's eyes turned troubled, conflicted, uncertain. Yet there was something in them that wasn't there before: Hope. Ghiradrim did not meet the gaze, and smiled.

-Later-

Ganondorf had his fill of words and politics. He turned aside and, wishing to be a proper host and having invited them to the occassion, joined Link and Solitare at their table for a time. He amused himself with tempting the young Qin to try one particularly tasty vegetable called a bhut jolokia. Being a Dragmire, Ganon found the vegetable delicious. Being a Qin, Link would later swear he died for a short time, or at the very least that he was breathing fire.

The drunkenness turned to men strip dancing at some point with loud singing, entirely off key and with all the coordination of fresh bed hair. Ganon did not participate in the drinking, wishing to always control his temper, and silently watched the show. He watch the snow-man, Ghiradrim, bid farewell and disappear for the night. Soon after, a drunken Nabooru passed out on the table with a very disheveled and scratched up Qin commander watching her with wide, fearful eyes. Ganon chuckled. The man looked like a frozen rabbit hiding in a corner of its cage.

The good spirits were broken by fire and thunder. A man ran in. He threw the doors wide, fell forwards, and scrambled across the floor. "Alpha! Chief! The Dragmire abode is on fire and a riot has stirred up in the valley around the Soran abode!"

Ganondorf stood and looked out over the crowd. Some had surprised expressions, but most were too drunk to put together cohesive thought. Nabooru was knocked out for the night, if she were to have her way at least.

"Someone wake her!" Ganondorf boomed, pointing to the alpha. He did not wait for a response before stepping out of the main hall and looking out over the valley. True to the report there was smoke bellowing from the district where the Dragmire abode was under construction and there was the sound of distant yelling.

Ganon looked to the reporter and asked, "What happened?"

"I do not know, I have only seen the smoke and heard from another that there is a riot there."

Ganon clicked his tongue in annoyance, but nodded all the same. He looked back. The Dragmire in the main hall were scared and uncertain. Hearing that your promised home is being burned when arriving in a new land is not an easy thing to hear. The Majora questioned each other what they were to do and there was no answer their elder could provide. Even as this happened, it did not escape Ganon's gaze how some other clans looked on the Dragmire, not with pity, but with contempt as if they deserved it.

Ganon had no time for this. He entered the main hall again.

"Link!" He barked as he walked past.

"Yo!"

"Make sure the Dragmire here stay safe. I have something to take care of. Commander Matsubi, are your men at your disposal still?"

The commander stood, "I believe so. They will be a little feast-drunk but will respond to my orders."

"Good, gather your men and position yourselves outside of the city. We do not need an incident between Majora and Qin soldiers along with whatever-the-realms is happening now."

"Most wise, my lord." Matsubi nodded. He made a wide gerth around the drunken Majora's alpha and left swiftly.

Ganon approached Nabooru. She was being roused by others, but was highly groggy as he stepped up to her. Needing to break through to her swiftly, he took a cup and splashed its contents in her face.

"What!? What are-"

Ganon interupted, "The Dragmire abode is in flames and there is a riot. The party is over."

-At the Riot-

Ganon didn't know which was hotter, the bonfire before him, and or his own flaring temper. Before him was a mob of men from the Soran clan and at their feet was a street filled with dead or badly-beaten Dragmire. Men, women, children, it mattered not. Alongside Ganon stood a rushed hunting party of Majora and a few other clans, and between them all stood Nabooru who, despite her drunkenness, had sobered up some and was managing to keep the two parties from killing each other, yet.

Ganon didn't hear most of the words being said. All he heard was yelling profanity against him and his bloodline, and all he saw were puddles of blood and dead people. In his mind was ruins and death.

Din personified rage, and in recent times Ganon studied her and came to understand what rage truly was. Anger was the emotional reaction of believing injustice has been dealt to you and your world-view. The Majora saw anger as a good emotion, but also a dangerous one. It was nothing more than a motivational tool but man's base standards of what angered them and did not was considered selfish and hypocritcal when left without reflection. A blood rage was when anger rose until you heard blood in your ears and your vision darkened and you woke later not remember what had happened. The Majora believed these moments were when the person snapped and were possessed by her, becoming the very avatar of Din. A state they could bring themselves in and out of in wartime using masks.

Show them the folly of their ways. Remind them what fear is, whom they should respect and bow to! If they had truly feared you, if you had commanded their respect, the innocent would not have died! Its all your fault! Now make up for it, kill them! Kill them all!

Ganon was very close.

"Ganon, wait!" Nabooru yelled in his face.

Ganon huffed and looked down at her. He blinked in surprise, he didn't recall moving. Looking back, he saw he had taken steps forward and his foot imprints left behind scorch marks. Ganon returned his lethal gaze to her, "Do not restrain me. Not now. Not this time."

"You monsters killed our beta!" The Soran yelled. With Ganon stepping forward, they raised their axes and swords, "Death to the Dragmire! You demons should never have come!"

"You wish for death!? Then come taste it!" Ganon roared.

"Ganon, hold!" Nabooru barked.

"So you side with them?" Ganon questioned. "They kill my blood and you restrain me from taking justice from them?!"

"No, the Soran will pay! But they say it was their due in blood as the Dragmire have been killing them. A Dragmire assassinated their clan leader, drove a pike into his head, and put the head back on."

Ganon blinked in surprise, momentarily stunned. That was a very unusual taste for killing, almost artistic even.

Ganon had a bad feeling about this. Ganon felt there was more at play, and this cautionary feeling allowed him to take hold of enough restraint to step back. Nabooru turned back to the Soran and started to speak with them. The Soran would face trial for this amidst the clans, a prospect the Soran did not seem to fear, no doubt expecting the other clans to side with them.

Ganon saw movement amidst the flames. The bodies stirred. Deeper in the burning neighborhood great dogs moved through the flames.

"Twilight!" The warning, though, came late as a pack of monsters leaped out of the smoke behind the Soran mob and tore into the ranks of men with claws extended and gaping maws.

"How did they enter the city?!" Nabooru drew her blade, but stayed rooted. The Majoran stepped forward to surround her.

Ganon watched the fighting as a disturbed feeling came over him. The monsters were not attacking anyone but the Soran mob. Like the monsters they fought just the other day and the Twilight with them, these things seemed directed and coordinated loosely. A leader was here. Whether this leader could create more of its band, or if it helped sneak a group in, a leader amidst twilight had infilitrated the Majoran enough to direct these beasts.

Ganon looked around them and peered into the darkness. From the actions of this pack, the leader was close enough to see them; but why send them only against the Soran? What purposes did it have in mind?

He was not alone in this thought, though they did not share in his conclusions.

"The Dragmire have summoned their hounds on us!" The Soran yelled.

The scuffle did not last long as there were but ten beasts at most, but it was enough for some Soran to fall and the rest to scatter in every direction. Nabooru directed the clans to arrest them, and some were taken at the spot, but most disappeared into the surrounding alleys fleeing the flames, twilight, and Majoran. Men and women shut fast their windows as the Soran yelled of what had transpired and before Ganon's eyes and ears, word spread as wildfire across the city. One Soran took to a horse and sped down the market yelling and warning all that the Dragmire's monsters had infilitrated the valley.

"Go and arrest the Soran!" Nabooru directed them. "Arrest them all where you find them! Send the clans against the Soran to restrain them and see what has happened, whether it is true or false that the Soran Beta has been assassinated at Dragmire hands!"

"Alpha, most of our army is marching on the temple to contain its prison." One answered among them.

Nabooru yelled in frustration. "My chief," Ganon stepped forward, "Something, or rather someone, is playing with us."

"What do you mean?"

"First, the monsters appearing in Qin at Joket. It is the city of one governor with a great distaste for us and who had used our masks to escape my vengeance. The same masks used the Qin Heir during our time in eastern Qin. The same masks to contain these monsters of the Majoran's ancient prison. The same prison that risks breaking containment and has taken our army to hold. With each of these events there have been Twilight presence of a different monsterous nature, and the same now here in our home. In each of these occassions, including the attack on Joket and now, both the monsters from our masks and the monsters from Twilight have acted as if directed by central mind or puppeteer. It is not a coincidence that territorial monsters work together to harass us in the Qin flatlands and it is no coincidence these Twilight now attack the Soran and only the Soran."

"I-is there anyone who can collaborate on what you say? Are you sure this is not just the ramblings of a mind that sees too much?!"

"My thoughts can be agreed upon with the Qin commander, heir of Qin, General DragonKnight of Mitagi, and the one marked by Farore, Link. Even the Fae patriarch and he may even know better in his experience. They have all witnessed in part what I described." It was a pity none of them were present at the scene to confirm Ganon's words.

Nabooru put a hand to her head and stumbled. One kept her from falling. "It is not a night for this! I have drank too much!" She sighed, closed her eyes, and focused her thoughts. "Are you thinking it is that governor who is the orchaestrator of these events?"

Ganon nodded, "Between the choice to attack Joket of all places, and to use monsters held in masks he has stolen, and then there is the matter of the assassination on Soran. They described bodies where heads were cut off, pierced with stakes, and then put back into the bodies... it is almost artistic as one man you no doubt remember."

"Kei Ki."

"I do not think the Qin commander of Ki is involved, but another Ki."

Nabooru thought a moment. "In Joket that Dindamn governor had stirred his people up against us so as to drive us out."

"He must be doing the same now here."

Nabooru clenched her teeth and her eyes bloodshot eyes turned feral. Ganon wondered for a moment if her hair and eyes would spark red as his, if not more so. "He has grown mighty if he has Twilight under this thrall!" Nabooru directed her eyes out into the city. In the distance torches and small fires were lit and the people stirred all across the mountains. Yelling could be heard from every direction. "In the meantime we have a war to fight. We must gather the Dragmire and take them out where they will be safe until the clans can be calmed. There is deep anger in our history towards the Dragmire and the Soran will not find it difficult to stir the people up against them."

"I have directed the Qin commander to leave the city so as to not be caught up in our affairs."

"Good, good. I would send the Dragmire to him were it not for how the clans may just attack Qin to reach them." Nabooru looked into Ganon's eyes. "Go, I have a job to do." She pointed a finger in Ganon's face. "We will do what we can to keep the peace, but you need to shepherd away the Dragmire. And if you find the scoundrel, grand executioner, show him the fury of Majora!"

"No, he deserves far worse. I'll show him the fury of demons."