Chapter 4- Valley of the Snake

To the north of the Gerudo Desert, chiseled deep into the mountain range isolating the vast dunes of sand from the rest of Hyrule was the Karusa Valley. Once the territory of the Korsh tribe, best known for their warmongering and the stylised snakes emblazoned on their golden shields, the valley was now the stronghold of the most feared and mysterious organisation in Hyrule—the Yiga Clan.

Or so they had been long ago. Kohga had been born after the Calamity had ravaged the kingdom and driven all surviving citizens to the corners of the kingdom, but the stories of the Yiga's glory had been passed down to him through his grandmother.

Every night, after drilling with his peers and being personally tutored by one of the Blademasters, Kohga would eagerly rush home to help Grandmother Halar with supper in exchange for another tale of triumph. One night, it might be the story of the Zora queen's assassination. Another night might be the battle for Karusa Valley—a decisive victory for the Yiga that had all but eliminated the Korsh warlords' reign they had held for more than six hundred years, allowing the Clan to create the stronghold that Kohga now lived in.

But one evening, Kohga heard a tale that was unlike any of the others Grandmother had told before. Despite the thirty-some years that had passed, he remembered it perfectly: the rich scent of the stew he'd helped prepare, the ache of his bones from sword practice, and the way the lines around Grandmother Halar's eyes deepened with the weight of the Yiga Clan's ultimate failure.

"The princess' inability to keep Ganon from emerging provided the perfect opportunity for us," said Grandmother, easing herself into the carved wooden chair across from Kohga. "For countless generations, our ancestors fought for a simple cause—to destroy those who forced us into exile and to remake Hyrule in Ganon's image."

Kohga recalled squirming a little whenever Ganon was mentioned—he had never quite understood devotion to any sort of extraterrestrial being, whether it was Ganon or the Goddesses.

"I was stationed at a remote outpost at the base of the Hebra Mountains when my company received urgent orders to move east. The messenger informed us that Hyrule Castle had fallen, and that Master Fiow—our leader at the time—was summoning all available fighters to Central Hyrule to prepare for a military coup."

"But what happened?" Kohga had asked. "You said last night that the Yiga Clan's power was greater even than—"

"Fiow failed to understand the circumstances under which the castle had fallen." Grandmother's eyes had gone distant then, seeing far past Kohga. "The plan was to besiege Fort Hateno, where the last of those loyal to the crown had fled. …But we could not penetrate even the borders of Greater Hyrule. The Sheikah's ancient army of machines intended to battle Ganon had gone mad, destroying everything and everyone in their paths."

At this, Grandmother Halar lifted the bottom of her tunic to expose her navel—or at least where it should have been. The skin of her abdomen was horrifically twisted into a knot of white scar tissue the size of a man's fist. Kohga felt faint, bile rising in the back of his throat.

"I was one of the lucky ones," said Grandmother bitterly, letting the hem fall to conceal her disfigurement. "I was hit from far away. At close range, those beams of white light could punch straight through a person's torso."

And so Hyrule had collapsed into near extinction, countless victims of all races and affiliations falling to the wrath of the ancient machines. Grandmother recounted the Sheikah's victory at Fort Hateno (which, Kohga had to grudgingly admit, had most likely saved the realm from complete annihilation), and the Yiga's limping retreat back to the Karusa Valley.

Grandmother Halar had passed away less than a year after that final tale, but the memory of the glorious force of chaos that the Yiga Clan had once been infected Kohga's mind. It nagged at him as he moved up through the ranks, ate at him as he watched his men return wounded from yet another fruitless raid—we could be so much more.

As leader of a broken army, Kohga's main priority was keeping up morale. It was easy for him to keep a level head—he had a cushy office to spend his time in, a comfortable bed with a real feather mattress, not straw, and a square two meals every day. It wasn't so easy for the grunts; after all, they were the ones giving their sweat and blood for these failed raids.

Failure was acceptable so long as nobody knew about it—or better yet, if it could be retold in such a way that it became a victory. If a company returned empty-handed from a raid, then it never was a raid. It was a reconnaissance mission all along, and the fact that the company had managed to breach the walls of Gerudo Town meant that the mission was a success.

Kohga wasn't naïve enough to believe that this ruse would last forever. It was an unfortunate reality that people died on these missions, and that fighters were no longer as dispensable as they had been back in the day. Eventually, his followers would grow discontented and possibly even rise up against him.

The botched raid had indeed yielded some useful information—Kohga was now aware of another entrance into the palace of the Gerudo chief. But how to put this information to use?

The wooden seat creaked under Kohga's weight as he eased himself into it, groaning as his joints crackled. He gazed at the walls of his office, which were decorated with the masks of all previous Yiga leaders. His eye fell onto the mask of Master Shola—an intimidating thing wreathed with twisted black horns and dark, yawning eyeholes. She had been among the first Yiga leaders, rumoured to have started their ongoing war against the Gerudo by stealing their most precious heirloom: the Thunder Helm. It allegedly allowed the wearer to control a mysterious force called electricity, striking down any enemies with bolts of white light from the heavens.

Kohga sat up a little straighter in his chair. If such an item would be anywhere, it would be inside the palace. He rubbed his hands together, heart fluttering with excitement. The glory of looting the chief's home alone would be enough to sustain morale for months, but if they managed to bring home the Thunder Helm as well…

Kohga's feat would go down in history, his mask being hung alongside those of heroes such as Shola.

A sharp cry came from somewhere outside Kohga's door, disturbing him from his reverie. Despite age and indolence, Kohga's battle instincts had him on his feet with his blade drawn and mask lowered within a second. He pointed the short sword at the doors, all aches and pains drowned out by a rush of adrenaline.

A thud against the wall. Another wail.

The door banged open as a trio of grunts toppled onto his office floor, landing in a tangled heap. Kohga bent slightly at the knees, prepared to vault his desk to meet his attacker.

A tall, blunt-featured woman strode into the room, sidestepping the unconscious bodies as her flag of red hair billowed behind her. She was clad in a simple black robe and held the sword of one of Kohga's personal guards. Her knuckles were bloody from the skirmish.

Kohga sheathed his sword, barely able to contain his annoyance. "Bruelia. I thought I'd made it clear that I'm not seeing anyone today."

The Gerudo woman tossed the confiscated blade onto the floor with a clatter. "I have news."

"Listen," said Kohga, placing his palms on the desk. "You can't waltz in here whenever you feel like it. I'm in the process of—"

"It can't wait," said Bruelia bluntly.

"It'll have to!" Kohga blustered. "I'm planning a military operation to infiltrate Chief Riju's palace and steal the Thunder Helm! Needless to say, it's a very delicate business and I don't have time for interruptions. "

Bruelia's eyes cast about the room, her gaze landing on Kohga's empty desktop. "I see. Do you usually plan military encounters without consulting a single map?"

Kohga lowered himself into his chair, fuming. Bruelia certainly was a striking specimen with her silvery blue eyes and lustrous hair, but she was far too mouthy for his taste.

"Allow me to share my news." Bruelia perched herself on the edge of Kohga's desk, crossing her bronzed legs. "Princess Zelda is currently residing in Kakariko Village."

Kohga laughed derisively. "Impossible. She perished alongside the other Champions a century ago, after imprisoning Ganon in the ruins of Hyrule Castle."

"Not so." Bruelia leaned closer, her eyes burning with an icy fire. "The princess has been trapped within the castle too, as much a prisoner to Ganon as he was to her. The Hero lives as well. He freed the princess and they fled together to Kakariko Village."

Kohga sat back in his chair, rubbing his palms together. He was fully aware that Bruelia sometimes experienced visions—she often claimed that Ganon himself had whispered into her ear since she was a child, allowing her impossible knowledge.

The simple truth was that he did not trust her. Bruelia had never made a secret of her disdain for him, mocking his leadership at any opportunity. In fact, the last time she'd stood before him she had called him a "doddering, aging fool desperate for some shred of glory." At least she hadn't insulted him so far.

"The princess will be heavily guarded," Kohga mused. "Every Sheikah, even the children, are trained to fight. I'm not sure it would be a good idea to send any assassins."

"And the Thunder Helm is not heavily guarded?"

"That's different!" Kohga snapped. "At least we know what we're up against in Gerudo Town. There's no way we could muster up a company large enough to take on the Sheikah and march them across Hyrule without being murdered by Guardians, let alone being spotted before they reach Kakariko."

Bruelia rose to her full height, towering over him. "All I hear are excuses," she hissed, her gaze glinting with steel. "Have you forgotten the Yiga's original intent, Kohga? Have you forgotten your vow to annihilate all who oppose Ganon's will?"

Kohga slammed his fists into the desktop. "Don't lecture me, woman. Last I checked, I am the leader of the Yiga Clan. Out of the two goals, which seems more attainable—capturing a Gerudo heirloom, or assassinating Princess Zelda, a feat we couldn't achieve even at the peak of our military strength?"

"Zelda will not stay in Kakariko forever," Bruelia countered. "It's true that I am not the leader of the Yiga. However, I would suggest, as a humble follower, that you contact your informant in the village and plot a move once she leaves the safety of the Sheikah's homeland. Our numbers may be small, but so are theirs. With enough patience, there will surely be an opening for us to take advantage of."

It was a good idea. If only it hadn't come from his most formidable rival.

"Very well," Kohga relented. "But until I hear back from the informant, I'm going ahead with the plot to steal the Thunder Helm."

Bruelia shrugged, disarmingly casual. "As you wish. Would you like me to fetch you a map?"

"No," said Kohga, needled. "You're dismissed."

Bruelia headed for the door, delicately skirting around the grunts whom, at last, were beginning to stir. She stopped in the doorway, running her fingers over the sigils set into the wood.

"I have not seen you at the Shrine of the Boar in several months, Kohga," she said airily. "Beware. I have heard whispers that the great Yiga leader has been slipping from his faith in Ganon."

There wasn't a single doubt in Kohga's mind over who had been the source of those rumours.