Chapter 22: By Demons Be Driven
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Khanot
The dimming grip of restless sleep was slow to relent that morning. Khanot did nothing to resist its chains. He had no desire to face the grief of the waking world. Though the guilt hunted him in his dreams as well, there at least he could pretend to be the victim of the monster that tore the Temple of Time to pieces, shattered bodies with magenta claws and burning blades, and howled wordlessly in rage to rend the sky. Once reality took him in once again, the truth burned through his chest like embers through paper. In the waking world, he was the monster. Farstok of the Zonai. Kishimoto of the Sheikah. Zelda… it was all his fault.
"Can you believe it?" the feminine Gerudo voice of one of his physicians whispered near his bed.
"Only because I am seeing it," another responded, likewise striving for silence.
Thin-fingered hands chilled by the day's cold air adjusted a few of his bandages. They were attended by the sound of scratching quills against parchment attached to scribing boards. He knew what they wrote without looking. When Khanot's guards first braved the battle and excavated him from the rubble of the Temple of Time those three days prior, they knew that they were retrieving another body for burial. Split timbers turned spears had pierced his chest. Glass from the windows turned shrapnel had scourged his skin. Stones and mortar had piled high over him as if to form a tomb. Kotake had fallen to her knees and wept at the sight of his tattered, blood-drenched body. That he still breathed was only an empty hope to the medics that dutifully began treating their king, more for the sake of the onlookers than results.
By the second morning after the catastrophe, however, things had changed. The lacerations across his body had closed enough to permit the removal of most of his stitches. His lungs had restored themselves from the puncture wound without collapsing. Most of his hundred fractured bones, carefully set by the professionals, had already sealed themselves together, leaving only residual swelling and discomfort in place of debilitating pain. Strength returned to his muscles by the minute, as if his immense blood loss had never occurred. And, perhaps most remarkable of all, Khanot had escaped without even a concussion to muddy his thoughts. His quick recovery defied all logic and reason. Truly, the Heroines were watching over him, so the physicians said. Khanot only wished he could agree.
"Lady Kotake, we have our report," the first physician started, addressing the woman seated once more at the writing desk in his luxurious tent. "We agree that as of today, our King has healed well enough to leave bed. In fact, if he can do so without pain, we might see if he can walk."
"Truly? Even with his broken legs?" Kotake inquired, her tone more joyous than skeptical.
"They aren't broken anymore," the younger Gerudo woman responded, as if with a shrug. "Just very bruised. He won't even need a cane. The miracle we have witnessed here is beyond measure."
"Excellent. When he wakes, I will pass the message along. I know he will be glad to get off this plateau. Thank you for your continued efforts."
"Thank the Heroines," the physicians said as one.
Thank the Heroines indeed. Little did they know that it was his heritage, the very thing that tethered each of the Gerudo to the Heroines, that had injured him in the first place. As if invoked, the Gift of Din swirled inside him, its sickening, oily presence like an eel tossing idly in a barrel. It seemed oddly calm, as if satisfied. The tremendous storm of oppression it had set upon him the day of the conference seemed like a bad memory. But in the darkness of his tent, he had plenty of time to remember the flashes that remained. An explosion of hatred. Claws of magenta destruction carving through the temple's structure like a skinner's knife through flesh, leaving fire and rubble in their wake. A demon taking the body of a guardian and joining the battle that somehow also seemed to stem from it, as if the Zonai and Sheikah soldiers that leapt into the fray had been touched by the Gift's frenzy and transformed in their own way. It was all his fault, all of it, and though invisible, every drop of blood was on his hands.
"They're gone, Khanot. You can stop pretending to sleep now," Kotake chided.
The fire of guilt at his heart burst with anger. How dare she speak to him like that, after all this? How dare she act as if nothing had changed? Yes, he was the weakling who had broken before the power, but she was the one that talked him into using it to begin with. He had gone to her that fateful night hoping to save his people and stop the war that consumed Hyrule. Now? The peace conference had been destroyed. In the chaos, the Zonai and Sheikah forces had dived into a vicious battle, soaking the smoldering stones of the sacred temple with blood. Bullets, bolts, and guardian beams had scoured the makeshift town around it.
When the Zonai won the battle, they dug in the ruins only long enough to discover that of their entire delegation, only the Dragon Tribe shaman called Frokar had survived. Farstok, the honored shaman of Orthon, the Zonai Capital, had been burnt nigh to dust. With their dead in tow, they fled back to their lands and allowed the defeated Sheikah to return and perform their own excavation. It was more thorough, and therefore, more damning. Of the Sheikah delegation, only Lord Yagamura and two of their monks had survived. Lord Kishimoto's lower half had been buried in rubble, preventing him from escaping whoever had stabbed him in the chest seventeen times. And of the Hylians… Khanot could not complete the thought. The world would yet feel the shockwaves of Zelda's death. I'm so sorry.
"Alright then," Kotake said, sounding annoyed. "I'll just talk at you then. There are a great many things to discuss now that the kingdom's hope of peace has collapsed."
Now that he blew everyone up and conjured a demon in a guardian to kill without restraint. Sure, let's just talk about that.
Instead, Khanot checked his muscles, flexing his arms and legs one by one. He certainly felt worse for wear, but just as reported, nothing felt broken anymore. That had to be good enough. Taking a deep breath, he hefted himself from the plush cushions of his bed and onto his feet. He wobbled for a second, caught his balance, and strode for the tent door, collecting a robe, a pair of sandals, and his white swirling sword along the way.
"Khanot? Where are you going?" Kotake exclaimed.
"I was told to take a walk, was I not?" he grumbled.
"Yes, but, Khanot, we need to go over some things before you…"
The flap of the tent door cut her off. Outside, Khanot squinted before a bleak morning wrapped in gray. Light charcoal snow clouds clung to the roof of the world, rendering the sun a vague splotch of graphite lighter than the rest while a brisk breeze pulled the miniature snowflakes into swirling patterns. Though the flakes had been falling for some time, they failed to do much more than spot the ground and muddy the walking paths. Khanot's camp, moved down the valley from the Temple during the conflict, reflected the mood with the usual Gerudo stoicism, his guards standing tall and defiant against the chill. Diligent though they were, Khanot could see the grimness in their eyes. It should have been possible to see the Temple of Time from here.
A group of ten soldiers took up their spears and formed up around their King at his appearance, Tahira at their head. At least she survived.
"My Lord! It pleases our hearts to see you standing once more!" the captain of his entourage said, initiating another bow from the host. "What is your request?"
"I have to see it for myself," Khanot muttered. Realizing his orders were unclear, he continued, "Take me to the Temple of Time."
The Gerudo soldiers nodded, bowed once more, and began a murky march up a hill that only days prior had bustled with exuberant crowds prepared for good news. Step by step, additional shadows were revealed instead. Part of him wanted to turn away. The rest wouldn't allow it. He had to face his mistake and count the cost of his weakness. And so, he walked, his pace slow to accommodate his still imperfect health and let the scenes sink in.
There, a family of Hylian travelers cried and wailed over a crudely carved gravesite. When the peace conference had exploded, their son had charged into the chaos of the collapsing camp to find their daughter. Two days later, their parents had found them in a ditch, their throats slit by unknown blades. Had they been caught in the crossfire between armies? Had his demonic guardian found them? Or were they the victims of the bands of looters that came into being as soon as night fell that first day? The family would never know.
There, a camp of Sheikah merchants huddled around a sickbed where a young man squirmed and groaned with fever. At his side, a thoughtful elder replaced the bandages around his midsection. It had been rent by a lead musket ball in the chaos when a Zonai soldier saw the youth's drawn katana and thought him an enemy soldier. Fate's dictation was clear in his eyes; he would not see sunset.
There, a duo of Gorons mourned a brother broken by a guardian stalker's blast. He had been holding a rock when the machine rounded the tent before him. It interpreted the item as a weapon, and not even the stoniest skin could resist its deathly gaze.
There were some of his own citizens, entrepreneurial Gerudo who had carved special pieces of jewelry to commemorate the end of the war. His own people. Wasn't it for them that he chose to embrace the Gift of Din to begin with?
Still, it continued, scene by scene, hastily dug graves combatting the hungry caws of crows. Animals had been hewn down while still tied to their hitching posts. Ash coated the husks of abandoned musical instruments. The swimming pool raised by the Zora had been filled with crimson. Still, the smell of burning hung on the air as the tragedy smoldered. One by one, Khanot witnessed the tears of those paying the price for his mistake. Each dug the pit in his stomach deeper. Still, there was more to see, countless sorrows to mourn as he climbed the hill to the ruins where it all began.
About a hundred yards from the temple's site, Sheikah soldiers maintained a roadblock with crossbows and naginata polearms, their guardians destroyed in the fighting. They glared as Khanot passed but made no move to oppose him. Past their blockade, the scene struck him like a blow. The Temple of Time had caved in almost completely. Only the back wall still stood like a jagged headstone over a charred statue of the Goddess Hylia, watching over the heap of blackened refuse still being sifted by excavators. Despite the destruction and the work, Khanot could still see the spherical burns of the explosion's epicenter radiating from the area around the front doors. Where I lost control.
Looking away from the ruins, he examined the rest of the carnage. The sound of injured soldiers screaming and crying greeted him from the temple's abbey, the old structure strangely untouched by the conflict. It became his destination for several steps until he watched two men depart with a stretcher bearing a one-armed corpse. They brought it to a circle of tents outside a slippery, mud pit. A mass grave. More soldiers met Khanot before it.
"Sir, I'm afraid I cannot let you pass," one of them said, raising an arm. "Lord Yagamura has declared that none may enter except those given express permission."
"I have to see her," Khanot argued, his voice cracking with emotion.
"I'm sorry, sir. We cannot acquiesce. But if you wait in the…"
Khanot's grief became rage once more. He straightened his back and glared deep into the Shiekah's soul and wondered how easy it would be to crush his throat. The young man's eyes widened, his muscles tensing as if sensing the Gerudo king's intentions.
"Soldier!" a sickeningly familiar voice called out from behind him.
Khanot turned slightly, his glower darkening. There, bruised but otherwise no worse for wear, stood Lord Yagamura, wearing armor like a soldier beneath a sashimono flag of his red and white colors along with a matching set of five guards. At the sight of him, Khanot's fury burned anew as if a flame blown from one tree branch to another. There he was. The man who had orchestrated the entire war, without which Khanot would never have been tempted by the Gift of Din. It was his fault, with his shapeshifting spies and grand ambitions that Hyrule was in shambles. Khanot remembered that fateful party at the castle where he had considered slaughtering the Sheikah along with the King Pelaris. He had decided to take a subtler path. How different things would be if he had just taken the opportunity and thrust his sword through the wretch's neck when he had the chance!
"Yessir?" the soldier gulped.
"Let him pass," Yagamura ordered. "He has a right to see her with his own eyes."
Her. The world grew colder.
"At once!" the younger Sheikah acknowledged, stepping to the side.
Khanot continued to eye the hated lord with skepticism, then with a wave ordered his Gerudo to stand guard outside and turned his back to Yagamura. With shaking hands, he lifted the door of the tent marked with the Hylian royal crest.
There, lying on a cot, was the body of a young woman, burnt and broken beyond recognition. Most of her features had been obscured by the flames and falling stones that ended her life. What little remained made a scene that burned itself into Khanot's mind. Yet, despite the corpse's disfigurement, three key details remained. Scraps of her melted gown had been buried deep enough in crumbled mortar to protect them from the flames. They remained violet, a bold noble color that only recently had graced one of Hyrule's brightest minds. A few strands of light brown hair fared similarly. Finally, wrapped around the brown and black skeleton finger of a right hand rested a ring with the Hylian royal crest. It was her. Zelda.
Khanot's posture cracked. His shoulders slumped. His golden eyes burned as if to give tears, but none came. He didn't know how long he stood there once more staring into the empty sockets of someone he cared for. Zelda… forgive me. I failed. Just like I failed my Rajiya. I have never been strong enough.
"Good king," Yagamura's voice said softly behind him. "I wish to discuss something with you, once you've had a moment."
He turned, still shaken, and defeated, expecting to face the Sheikah with all his guards penning him into the cursed tent. Instead, he saw only the noble himself standing at ease in his armor. A quick glance revealed that Lord Yagamura had left his Sheikah where Khanot had last seen them, and even withdrew the younger men that had been guarding the makeshift mortuary. Khanot's own entourage was thus both the closest to them and a barrier between Yagamura and his own agents. The move seemed to be a subtle token of peace, effectively giving Khanot the ability to kill him unhindered as a show of trust. Why would Yagamura trust him, after all their conflicts? Resigned as much as curious, Khanot nodded.
"I am glad to hear that you are recovering so well from your injuries," Yagamura began, his red eyes uncharacteristically soft, as if with compassion. "You see, I was standing near the ruins when your people arrived to dig you out. My memory of the conference is actually how they located you. As such, I was there when they pulled the first stones separating you from the surface and… well, let's say your current health greatly exceeds my expectations."
"Not your hopes?" Khanot glared.
Yagamura's face twitched.
"I am glad to see you well. You may not believe that, after our months of hostilities, but it is true. Our conflicts have shown me that you are an extremely shrewd, intelligent, driven, and capable leader. Before this grim attack, that was exactly what made you dangerous to me. However, now, as I ache before a catastrophe I myself narrowly survived, I am forced to recognize that you are exactly the kind of leader that Hyrule needs right now."
So, Yagamura was trying to soften him up for something. The Gerudo narrowed his eyes but did not respond. The Sheikah shrugged.
"Doubt me if you like; I have certainly earned it. I only ask that you uncloud your eyes for a moment. Great changes are coming to Hyrule. The monks of my people have looked upon this attack and declared it the work of the Calamity."
Calamity. The word somehow managed to make the bitter day even darker. While his people did not believe in any such thing, Khanot knew enough of Hylian and Sheikah culture to understand what he described. The thought that his power, his Gift of Din could remind them of such a force shook him. What was worse was that the sword fit that sheath well. His explosion of dark power and the blighted thing it created was precisely the kind of force they feared, wasn't it? Especially if that expression of rage had indeed influenced the Zonai and Sheikah soldiers' rapid descent into conflict.
"I am not sure what I believe about that," Yagamura continued, fiddling idly with the hilt-wrapping on one of the blades at his waist. "I am not a religious man, myself, and find the legends of a world-destroying demon that can only be defeated by a single bloodline of Hylian nobles a bit… convenient, if not outright contrived. Nevertheless, it is clear that some great power was behind the attack on the conference. Being head of the Sheikah, I clearly know that it was nothing of our design. Were it made or conjured by Hylians, I would not expect the Princess to be among its victims. That leaves few suspects indeed."
Their eyes met. Yagamura's seemed probing, searching, as if hoping Khanot would betray something. Almost like Yagamura knew. His heart began to beat faster.
"I have heard that you blame the Zonai," Khanot managed to say.
"I do not know who else it could be. What other people in Hyrule are barbaric enough to attack their own respected leaders at a supposed sacred site and kill a princess who, by all reports, was trying to advance their cause?" The Sheikah let his point hover for a moment and turned to look over the mass grave filled with his soldiers. "It is an enigma, but perhaps that itself tells us everything we need to know. The Zonai are not like the rest of us, are they? Regardless, this is what King Pelaris believes. He is taking the murder of his only daughter very seriously. I can only imagine what his response will be."
"And I am sure you have had nothing to do with what King Pelaris believes," Khanot accused, standing taller as his anger resurged.
"If there is something wrong with my reasoning, please, let it be known," Yagamura shrugged, his shoulder plates rattling slightly with the movement. "I at least don't find the suggestion that the Zonai attacked the peace conference absurd. And if not them, then who? Who has the means, let alone the motive to orchestrate and execute such an act?"
Part of Khanot wanted to answer with honesty. He deserved the blame, after all, not the Zonai. They were victims of his weakness as much as anyone else. But what would that mean for his people? What would happen to them if their king was accused of being a demon from legend? If he chose to reveal the truth, it would be on his terms, not Yagamura's.
"You benefit a great deal from this belief," Khanot argued instead. "Kishimoto had replaced you and was bargaining for peace. Now, he's dead and you're about to rally all of Hyrule against your enemies."
Yagamura's expression flickered again, as if he were holding back a smile.
"Like any good leader, I am positioning myself to best advance my power through the opportunities that arise. However, we both know that I did not orchestrate this attack. I very nearly died in that collapse with the rest, saved by fortune alone, and I do not gamble with my own life. Even if that was not true, however, you know very well that I do not have the means to accomplish something like this. Disguise a few spies, sure, but I am not a man of magic, and the ancient arts of the Sheikah are limited in their usefulness. Especially when others of significant power oppose them."
Khanot considered yet again stabbing the man and ending things. Once more, the cost seemed to outweigh the benefits. He was already honestly guilty of the attack. What good would it do to show that to Hyrule by assassinating one of the few to escape the blast? No, Yagamura was playing at something. He knew something about Khanot's power. What was he planning?
"What's your point in telling me all of this, Lord Yagamura?" Khanot barked instead.
"As I said, I am trying to advance my power. One of the best ways to do that is to ally with other powerful people. You, King Khanot, are certainly a person of power. As Hyrule embarks into a new age, panicking about Calamity and beset by war, it is beneficial for those of us with the will and strength to dominate it to cooperate."
It was an offer of alliance! Khanot almost gasped aloud. Despite all the Sheikah's pretending, Khanot had been right about him from the start. The Sheikah people's ancient, Goddess-given oath to protect the Hylian royal family didn't matter to him in the slightest. He was exactly what he seemed, a puppeteer longing for a better throne, unmoved by the blood and suffering of the tens of thousands beneath him that had to pay the price. It was like standing face to face with a Lord Akkalus consumed by lust for power instead of simple hedonism. And now, due to whatever it was he knew, Yagamura believed that Khanot's power was worthier of alliance than Pelaris's, despite their conflicts.
He too shall obey.
Part of Khanot was intrigued by the offer. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he could still fix things. Another piece of him revolted at the thought. How could he go back to scheming so quickly after seeing what his political ambitions had caused? Zelda was not even buried yet and he was considering cooperating with one of her greatest enemies! But he had to do something, didn't he?
"I see you have a great deal on your mind, good king," Yagamura said respectfully. "This is a troubling time indeed. I shall not bother you further. If you would like to debate my offer in clearer detail, I would be happy to meet in more discrete circumstances."
With that, the Sheikah bowed and departed, his armor clinking and sashimono flag catching the wind with a swoosh. Khanot watched him circumvent the Gerudo guards, reconvene with his retinue, and lead them back towards his camp. In the Sheikah's wake, like the tumult on a storm-torn lake, conflicting thoughts raced through Khanot's mind, guilt and fear opposing one another like armies. The future of the Gerudo, if not all Hyrule, was more at stake than ever, but could he disregard the suffering he had already caused? The image of Zelda's skull seemed to form in his eyelids, accusing him each time he blinked. Heavy-hearted, he sighed and led his forces back to his tent.
Thankfully, Kotake was not there when he returned. He found the desk where she'd been perching covered with Rito-delivered letters and those yet to be carried. Most of the latter were reports on his health to interested parties all across Hyrule, including his allies Lady Tabanth and Lord Akkalus. Among the former, however, were words he was not prepared to face.
Grandma,
I am so relieved to hear that Father survived. I don't think I slept at all last night. The palace felt so big and empty without you all here.
Khanot's heart sank deeper into an icy pool. Nabouri had begged him not to use the Might of Ancient Kings anymore, filled with worry that it would bring about some disaster. In his inability to both keep his promise to her and contain the beast, he had almost left his seventeen-year-old daughter an orphan. Hadn't he caused her enough pain already? Wasn't his failure to protect her mother and his saddling her with responsibility for their entire kingdom while he ran around playing politician enough? He clenched his fists, the letter's crinkling sound reminding him that there was more to read.
The Ladies at court have been basically kicking my doors down trying to get information. I've told them that I have nothing to share, which is true, but they don't like that. Some have heard that the Zonai were the ones that attacked the Peace Conference. I told them that the Crown of Thunder does not react to rumors. They brought up some good points though. After all, we've been doing a lot of shady stuff on their behalf, between making and smuggling their weapons and all that. If they are intentionally making things worse by killing the Princess and attacking our king, maybe we shouldn't support them anymore.
But if it's not their fault and they're just being framed again, well, then they don't deserve all this, but what do we do? Our people have family ties with Hyrule just the same as they do with the Zonai. I mean, there's more of our people related to the Zonai, but it's not unanimous. If King Pelaris attacks the Zonai, both sides will expect our help. Both halves of our own people will expect us to answer. But we can't do both, obviously. We have to pick one. Honestly, it makes me wonder if this Calamity thing the Hylians believe in is real.
I don't know what to do, Grandma. I need Father. Please keep me posted on how he's doing.
-Nabouri
No, it wasn't enough, Khanot sighed. Thanks to him, the kingdom's affairs had started a dangerous downward spiral. Nabouri had touched on greater truths than perhaps she even realized. Yagamura had told him that Pelaris was planning to take revenge on the Zonai. However, between the trade embargos, armed borders, denial of diplomatic privileges and such, there wasn't much left to do besides attack. What man would seek to avenge his daughter by posting an irrelevant sanction? As such, Khanot was certain that before the week saw its last sunset, perhaps before Zelda had even been buried, Pelaris would declare war on the Zonai. Then, with the armies of Hyrule and the Sheikah united, the Zonai would fall.
Their only hope of survival would be Khanot's intervention on their behalf, and they would certainly request it. Whatever his answer, he would alienate a significant portion of his own populace. Even if that wasn't true, could he win that war? Could the Gerudo willing to die for Faron hold back all of Hyrule? He was certain that one of his soldiers was worth at least five of Hyrule's, but Hyrule had the five to spare. Yet, could he really betray the Zonai and abandon them to destruction? He envisioned the Daughters of Faron that had pled their case to him when he was last in Qaijkarah, women so passionate that they were willing to relinquish their rights as Gerudo to defend their fatherland. Gerudo like them would not abide such treachery, and knowing that their plight was his fault, Khanot did not know that he could ask them to.
One way or another, once spring came and Pelaris had time to gather his forces, the Zonai would be destroyed, and the Gerudo would cease to be a nation. There was no way for him to win. It was over.
Unless I use the power vested in me by my ancestors, that is.
A sudden ray of light broke his concentration. Khanot turned to find Kotake reentering the tent, the flap held open by one of his guards. His blood started to boil once more. If only she had kept her mouth shut! If only he had never embarked down this path to begin with!
"Khanot, I am sorry about earlier. I did not realize I was…" the old Gerudo woman began while she slowly hobbled towards her seat.
"What have you told her?" Khanot interrupted.
"Hm?"
"Nabouri. What have you told her?" he repeated.
Kotake stopped and leaned on her cane with both hands. She studied his face for some time, his impatience building with each breath.
"I told her that there was an attack on the Peace Conference that killed Zelda and most of the other delegations, but that you had miraculously survived by the grace and power of our ancestors," she replied at last.
"The grace and power of our ancestors? Is that what you're calling this curse you fooled me into reigniting?" Khanot barked, nostrils flaring with anger while his clenching fists splintered the wooden back of a chair.
"I…" she tried.
"You realize this 'power' is exactly what caused this catastrophe to begin with, don't you?" he hissed, his voice possessing the fervor of a shout without its volume. "It is what almost left Nabouri alone in this world! And failing to do so, it may yet steal her future. Surely, by now you've considered the implications of this 'attack.' The Zonai stand on the brink of oblivion, and whatever I choose to do about it, we will never be the same again. We have not been in such a dire predicament since the war began, and we have your 'Gift of Din' to thank for it!"
"Would it have been better if you had rolled over and accepted your punishment, that night when you were faced with the very real threat of Yagamura's shapeshifting spies? Would it have been better for you to trust in Pelaris's wisdom months into your illegal trade with the Zonai?" Kotake argued.
"Yes!" Khanot yelled, unable to contain himself anymore. "If I had accepted defeat then, at least Zelda would still be alive. Then, once Pelaris finally choked on a chicken bone, we could have seen real leadership in Castle Town! Now? We're stuck with him at least until whatever entitled brat he sires to replace her takes his mantle! Assuming we even live until then. That child won't have learned to eat porridge before war consumes us all!"
"And what would that defeat have looked like, those months ago?" his adopted mother challenged, anger filling her tone now too. "What would turning yourself over to the mercies of bloodthirsty and opportunistic Yagamura and manipulable Pelaris have looked like? It is easy to look at the blood and rubble before you now and assume that nothing could be worse, but I see things differently. Yagamura and Pelaris would not have slapped your wrist for supplying the Zonai with the one weapon that could neutralize their guardians effectively. They would have destroyed you!"
"You don't know that. And even so, perhaps that would be better still than this," he snarled, gesturing towards the ruins of the Temple of Time, obscured by the tent walls.
"And you don't know that!" she demanded, her shaking finger punctuating the words."For all you know, once Pelaris and Yagamura had struck you down, they would have continued a campaign against our people until they were once more reduced to vagabonds and thieves scraping at the sand and unwary travelers for their sustenance, just like they were before the Great King of the Gerudo took the Gift of Din upon himself! You chose to embrace the Gift, knowing that it was dangerous and treacherous, because you knew that that was the best way for us to escape that fate. And I still believe that is true, this setback notwithstanding. We are in no less perilous sands than we were those months ago. You say there is no way forward. I say your eyes are too focused near your feet!"
Khanot wanted his anger to continue. His grief wanted him to continue lashing out until she accepted her role in bringing about the ravens' caws that surrounded them. Something else pushed to the front. Something somehow like a memory blurred by time, or a dream just out of reach.
"Vagabonds and thieves?" he asked, his tone still sharp.
"Yes. You have not studied our history like I have," Kotake answered, her own frustration receding. "It is another of my failings here, as I have been brought to see. But perhaps now is a good time to remedy it. May I sit?"
Khanot realized that he had been clutching the back of her chair, splintering it in several places. Quickly picking the jagged shards free, he brought the elaborately carved seat to her at the center of the tent, helped her settle into it, and draped a warm woolen blanket around her frail shoulders for good measure.
"Now then," she said, "The dark days of the Gerudo. This was long, long ago, before the sacred artifact of the Golden Goddesses was first sundered. In this age, the Hylians ruled all without question. The Sheikah attended their royalty like faithful hounds, the Rito had not yet come to be, and the Zora and Gorons were content to tend to their own matters. Only one people dared to oppose them."
"The Gerudo," Khanot nodded.
As happened last time Kotake had reached into the past, Khanot found himself mesmerized and enthralled. He could not independently recall the story, but with each word, the rightness reverberated to his very core, like it was something he should have known all along.
"Yes," Kotake confirmed. "Our people tried to contest the incompetence of the Hylians, but we were too weak. We broke before them, and in our defeat, we were reduced to little more than savages. Instead of a nation, we lived like rats on the edge of the world, without industry, art, or culture. In constant poverty, we roamed where we could, picking at scraps like vultures. Without any standing of our own, it was bitterly difficult for us to even find husbands, for Hyrule had no interest in letting us prowl its streets. When at last Twinrova, leader of the pitiful tribe we were, bore a son and anointed him to be a king, he was forced to call himself the Thief King."
"The Thief King," Khanot repeated. He knew that name. Hadn't he even thought it by accident, when the Daughters of Faron stood before his throne?
"Though a great sorcerer, even that King of the Gerudo was subjected by the Hylians. At least, until he heeded the Goddesses' call, pierced the hidden veil, and sundered their ancient artifact," Kotake explained.
"Earning the Gift of Din, as you explained before."
"At which point, he became the great and powerful king we know in legend, a Lord like no other, and a thief no longer. In his age, the Gerudo became rulers of all Hyrule for a time, as was our right."
"He saved us. He elevated us to a true nation," Khanot realized. "Even though all Hyrule combined against him and brought about his fall."
A fall from a great tower at the hands of a warrior in green.
"Yes," Kotake smiled. "We are what we are because of him and the Might of Ancient Kings he brought to us. The greatness you have endeavored so long to protect is built on his foundation."
"Then… the Calamity. A legend of a world-destroying demon only conquerable by the Hylian royal family," Khanot thought aloud. The idea of citing Yagamura seemed insane to him, but didn't the man's comment fit? "It's more than convenient. That legend was created about us!"
Khanot's anger returned, somehow feeling higher, more enlightened. He was not fuming at stones anymore, but at the roots of their society, of all societies! It drove him to move, to pace, to work his tired and bruised muscles in agitation. The pain meant nothing to him.
"We don't believe in the Calamity," he considered. "The Hylians and the Sheikah do. Aren't they the very people our Great King had to fight in order to lift the Gerudo from their rags? And now, people are calling the outburst of my power here an example of Calamity. What if they are right? There is no great world ending demon! The Might of Ancient Kings is the Calamity, dubbed such because of the fear the Hylians and Sheikah felt when our King dared to oppose them in the name of his own people! Once they defeated him, they were so terrified of what we could become that they invented this entire legend to keep us down. It is the grace of the Goddesses that they have been content to use the story merely as a way to justify subservience to their idiot nobility."
The passion continued to pull him along. With each connection, the Gift of Din within him swirled, but instead of feeling unstable, sickly, and aggressive, it felt warm, as if a stray dog finally being handed a scrap of meat.
"But wait… that isn't true either, is it?" Khanot continued, euphoria joining his fury. "Power is the virtue of kingship, just as courage is the virtue of the brave knight and wisdom the virtue of the advisor. Yet Hylians, the inheritors of wisdom, have been given the throne without question, and how well has that wisdom served us? Yes, I have made my mistakes, but if not for Pelaris' idiocy, I would never have been put in the position to begin with. All this death, including the death of his daughter… my hands may be stained by my proximity and my confusions, but the blood leads back to him! He is the one to blame here. And isn't that proof? The Golden Goddesses didn't intend for his ilk to rule. Zelda would have been a fantastic queen, but they let her burn. They didn't save her. Why? They never intended Hylians to rule. They gave the fragment of Power to us! They gave it to me!"
Khanot slammed his fists against his writing desk, sending ink jars rolling and quills drifting away. As he watched the items flee him, he noticed the golden triangle glowing on the back of his right hand. The power within swelled, the warmth like a broken friendship mended. During the peace conference, he recognized that it was a presence. It lived, it breathed, it existed, but what kind of life had it been given?
"No wonder the Might of Ancient Kings feels like some repressed, ravenous beast!" he realized. "No wonder it chafes against being locked away once given a breath of fresh air. It is the right of rule and the will to command itself, yet it has been subjected and imprisoned! It is the Goddess-given charge to be obeyed yet has itself been forced to obey! So of course, it is hard to control. Though given by lineage, it needs strength as much as it grants it. It needs a King to utilize it and help it achieve its rightful place. It doesn't try to consume me because it hates me. It is because I was too weak. I bought the lies I had been sold. But now?"
Khanot extended his right arm, the golden triangle glowing brighter from the back of his palm. Gift of Din! Give me fire! Instantly, an orb of magenta appeared in his hand, swirling, crackling, and sparking as if crimson lightning. He recognized it immediately. It was potential, like he had observed when first he summoned the Phantom. Lightning was the potential to be fire.
"Now, I understand. I have learned my lesson. I will not let my people fall back into ruin. I will not be weak, blind, or afraid! I will be obeyed!"
The lighting ran up and down his body from his outstretched arms, tingling with excitement, but doing him no harm. Then, it faded away, becoming one with his heart. Once the light departed, Khanot turned to Kotake. She was watching him with a mix of horror, pride, and awe.
"Koume… oh sister, if only you were here to see this," Kotake muttered to herself, almost inaudibly. "Your son has accepted his mantle. The age has come. Heroines preserve us."
Khanot paid her comment no mind, even though just hours prior the mention of his mother would have cut his injured heart anew. He didn't even care that Kotake had revealed a relationship to the woman who raised him in a cave with stories of grandeur and conquest.
"And as such, I know how the Gerudo will survive Pelaris's retaliation against the Zonai," he said instead, his mind racing alongside the Gift of Din within him. "I will stop it before it begins and bring Hyrule into its natural order at long last. I will bring peace. I will be king!"