The town itself seemed ready to tuck in, the vendors exhausted from a long day of advertising their wares. They each packed their things, making their ways home in a drunken-like trance, in sleep's clutches. Yet, not even the most tired of them would dare to leave a single thing behind, not if they valued it. The stalls became completely barren, even the decorations adorning the counters accounted for.
Gerudo Town was a tired town. Gerudo Town was an empty town.
And this nighttime was the perfect time to get a pressing matter resolved.
Link sat on a slab of cobblestone, the goddess statue. An isolated area, it was perfect.
He wrestled the right shoe off of his foot, throwing it down as his toes wrapped around the cold breeze, red and irritated. He ripped the left one off, cast it away, too, and let a sigh flutter the cloth over his mouth. The pinching of the shoes was gone, and all that left him with was a slow heartbeat of pain in his feet.
He rubbed at his soles, massaging them with deep strokes as he watched the shadows along the wall flicker with the light, like fireflies.
His sword-the sword that sealed the darkness-slept against his back, as weary as he. The fireflies along the wall allowed him to close his eyes, have a moment of reprieve-
An elongated shadow passed over the wall, whipping through the fireflies.
Link's eyes flew open, his sword was awake in his hands, and he was on his feet, his sore, aching feet.
The night was still, the lanterns continuing to flicker. Nothing was there. All was well.
Link breathed in, going to settle down again, until it pierced the air.
Laughter.
Link could not tear his eyes away from the shadow climbing up the wall, like a blockade against the stone. Knees bent, elbows drawn in, Link leaped into the archway.
The archway was the only segment of the town left in darkness. Yet, it was the second segment of town occupied. A strong pillar was visible within the confines of the lazy shadows, and it moved.
A person separated themselves from the shadows-no, not Link realized-
A man.
"How obvious of you to bring that thing here." His eyes, slanted in judgement, dragged over to his sword, which sparkled against the blackness.
Link's eyebrows furrowed, and he clutched the hilt so hard that his knuckles went a ghastly white. The cloth hanging over his face fluttered in tune with his shallow breath, his mouth half open.
A smirk climbed up the man's face. "Always so predictable, your kind."
His hair was a wildfire upon his head, unkempt and flame colored; it was as bright as his eyes, which were amber and glowed like oppressing little lights. His eyebrows perked up, expectant. Predictable.
For a man hailed as a king, he didn't look the part. His chest, broad and muscular from regular exertion, was bare, and a pair of light fabric pants adorned his legs, red where Link's were blue.
Then, the man cleared his throat and spoke. "Your name is Link. Mine is Ganondorf." He projected , and his voice rumbled, but it was a soft declaration of authority, as though he were speaking to a peasant. like a king.
Link's breath hitched, but he did not, for even a moment, let down his sword.
"You are Hylia's best," he stated. "How… intriguing."
The indignation was a knot in Link's chest, and he inched closer, his sword slithering further out, where it pressed into Ganondorf's chest.
"Lay down your weapon. This is not a play session."
Link went to take another step forward when he glanced over to Ganondorf's hip. There was no scabbard.
In fact, Ganondorf was completely unarmed.
His sword leapt back, and he drew it close to him like a shield.
Ganondorf laughed again. "Careful where you swing that toy. It is rather sharp." Then, he turned and his back was an impenetrable wall which Link could not hope to break through. "Until next we meet, hero."
Link watched him saunter back into the shadows; he watched him, unmoving.
Then his sword clattered to the ground and he was no longer a hero-just a scared boy playing a role.