It was late, but Zelda could not sleep.
For once it was not that she was alone with her thoughts. Queen Sonia sat at the low table in the center of the room, the golden glow of the lantern warming the small space and easing her typically troubled mind. Zelda sat up from the bed, wondering if perhaps it was the sudden chill getting to her. But that wasn't right, either. She'd spent plenty of nights curled up by Urbosa's side and waking up already sweating; it wasn't like it was her first time in the desert.
It was simply too loud.
Not that the noise was overbearing, by any stretch of the imagination. But in her era, she'd grown accustomed to nights so quiet she could hear everything. The slow, steady breathing of the knights across camp from her tent, the howling of wolves miles and miles off as they bounced and echoed off canyon walls. Even in her current predicament, she kept to the palace often; the steward constructs that busied themselves there powered off into a mode resembling sleep at seven every evening, giving her the silence she was used to.
The Gerudo Town she knew had been lively, sure, but here in the distant past it was a bustling city the likes of which she'd never thought possible. The thrum of so many people was impossible to ignore passing by beneath the opened window of their room at the inn. Then there was the occasional clinking of cooking utensils from the open-air shops below, the scent of their fires and hearty food evident even when she buried her face into her pillow. Sometimes a too-loud laugh would sound out over the crowd, impossible to ignore.
For their happiness, she was glad. But she knew how this ended, and it unsettled her.
She swung her legs over the bed and padded over to the table, Sonia already glancing back to follow her with her gentle gaze. She knew her inside and out already, it seemed. Where that probably should have unnerved her, it was instead a comfort. It felt good to have someone she trusted, and someone who trusted her.
A friend.
"What troubles you, little love?" asked the queen, folding the corner of her current page before shutting the thick, leather-bound book before her. "You've not slept well these last few nights."
Zelda considered only briefly. She rarely kept things from Sonia simply because the older woman was so intuitive that it was little use to even try.
"Plenty of the usual," she admitted. "I worry, because of my track record, I won't have what it takes to ever get back to my time."
"It weighs on you heavily," she said with a knowing nod. "I'd hoped this book recently unearthed by my dear sister would have some greater insights, but it's not shaping up to be what I expected."
They both looked down to the old, worn book. Yesterday as they passed beneath the great gates that led into Gerudo Desert they'd talked for hours, their excitement never waning, of their leading theories in what the Triforce could possibly be. Zelda had expressed her doubts concerning what Rauru had mentioned, that it was merely a creed by which to live. Sonia, though, was especially interested in Zelda's belief that power was not inherently a corrosive force.
Their speculation had been some of the more creative exchange of ideas in which Zelda had ever taken part. She'd seen a world ruined by a man obsessed with power. Could such a thing exist as a world led into ruin by wisdom, or by courage? Sonia's initial speculation was that a world governed solely by the wise would lead to an emotionally disconnected people, whose lives were long and structured, ruled by cold logic alone and ultimately unsatisfying.
It'd set Zelda's overactive mind abuzz. As they stocked up on supplies at the Kara Kara Bazaar, she'd excitedly launched into painting a picture of a world overrun with courage. Life expectancy would not be long, passions always the priority. Lust and violence would be likely suspects for common behavior, with no one besieged by second thoughts or doubts.
"But this is not what plagues your mind now," Sonia said then, bringing Zelda back to the present. The queen, somehow even more elegant sitting there dressed in traditional Gerudo garb, tilted her head to the side in that playful curiosity she sometimes let slip through her otherwise calm demeanor. "You've been feeling much better since we left Hyrule Field behind us and you freed your thoughts from their place in your head."
Zelda bit at the inside of her cheek. Not only was the uncertainty of her mood blatantly obvious to the queen, but her lingering feelings of discomfort about Rauru were, too. When he'd opted to stay behind entirely, placing his trust in the girls to barter for diplomacy on his behalf, she'd been relieved beyond compare. Not that Sonia would fault her for that; her empathy had no limits, it seemed.
Suddenly the queen stood, her smile a bit broader than usual as she put one hand on her hip, leaving the other outstretched in offering. Zelda took it, letting herself be lifted to her feet.
"I think I know just the thing!" It was the liveliest she'd ever been. "Come."
They practically ran together down the stairs and out the door, leaving the innkeeper with quite the puzzled look on her face. They spilled onto the street, still just as busy as when they'd retired to their room earlier, and Sonia took a moment to look around, her eyes cast upward.
"What is it you're planning?" Zelda asked, amused by the childlike spark in her companion's features.
"You will see." She pulled her along, away from the main strip and towards the large, looming walls. They walked with a pep in their steps, giggling like little more than schoolgirls as they wove through the throngs of people as the crowd slowly gave way to far less dense streets. The bustle died down, forgotten as the cold of the night finally settled in around them.
They came to a stop near a back corner of the wall, hidden away in a quiet alley. Barrels, wooden boxes, and sacks stuffed full of flour were stacked halfway up the wall. When Sonia turned to face her again, her face was flushed from the effort of their run in a way that made the princess's heart squeeze.
"My mother is Gerudo," she said, bracing herself on one of the boxes. To Zelda's complete and utter shock, she swung her leg and hopped up onto it, motioning to be followed. "Have I ever told you that?"
It took a moment for her to gain composure enough to speak. "Um—no, you haven't." But it made sense why she was so damned tall. Zelda snapped back to her senses and did as she was bid, scurrying to follow the queen's path upwards.
"Indeed." She leapt from a box and onto one of the ornately designed carvings on the wall, hanging on like she was Link himself. Zelda gaped, knowing she was expected to do the same. "This was my home for a time, in my girlhood. I used to sneak away here to get some peace and quiet."
"Up the wall?" Climbing hurt. How had Link done this with any amount of normalcy?
"On top of it," she answered.
Sonia, so much taller, reached it first. When she twisted back and put out her hand once more, offering it to the princess, Zelda swallowed; it felt like her nerves were on fire. But she took that outstretched hand as she had countless times before, feeling light as a feather as she was pulled to the queen's side. The soreness in her limbs from the climb vanished immediately when she was met with an unobstructed view of the desert.
A smattering of stars hung overhead, brilliant as she'd ever seen them. A cool breeze tousled her hair as she looked out. Off in the distance, a mere glowing speck on the horizon, were the Arbiter's Grounds, still standing tall. Every month, or so she was told, the women held fierce competitions within its colossal stage. She could not wait to go, to see it used for its original purpose before being restructured as a prison.
It was strange to see a landscape so familiar yet so fundamentally changed by time, the thought nearly knocking the wind from her lungs. There was still so much she could learn, so much she could change. The Gerudo were not yet considered part of the Kingdom of Hyrule; what would be different, then, if she could convince them to stay that way? Surely they'd have kept to their traditions, at least as far as the Arbiter's Grounds were concerned.
Footsteps approached them then, and the part of Zelda that wouldn't dream of ever getting into trouble, bristled. But Sonia simply stepped around her, ready to face whatever punishment or scolding they'd receive with that signature grace of hers. It was a guard, her golden spear long and sturdy over her right shoulder.
"Sav'saaba, ladies," she said, giving a short bow before noticing the look of panic on Zelda's face. "I am not here to take you to the holding cells," she said with a laugh. "Many tourists climb the wall just to say they've done it. I just wanted to tell you to watch your footing in the dark; it's a long way down."
"Thank you," said the queen, seemingly relishing in the anonymity she had here. "We—"
But she was cut short by a mighty groan, carried clean across the flat sands. The three of them turned their heads, Zelda's skin breaking out in chills. Ever perceptive, Sonia reached out to squeeze her hand, and that was when they saw them.
"Molduga," said the woman standing guard, smiling smally. "They're magnificent, aren't they?"
They were dark streaks along the starlit desert, weaving between rocks and leaping out of the earth only to dig back in with a rumble that reached them on the wall. Some of them were small, struggling to keep up with their adult counterparts.
"Truly," Sonia answered, but Zelda stood silently, mesmerized.
The molduga she'd known were aggressive, a death sentence without a proper party to fight one off—and even then it was risky. The better plan was to hope to the goddesses there were ruins nearby to cling to in the hope that it would simply tire of listening and swim off. But as she watched these before her, diving in and out of the endless stretch of sand like it was water, a peace washed over her.
"They can be quite territorial," the guard explained, "but they travel in family units. You vai simply must visit the sanctuary out west someday. The calves are curious little things—sometimes they'll swim right up to you. Many of them are very nearly domesticated."
Her heart swelled, watching them fade off into the horizon, giving a wide berth around the colosseum. Things had not always been so violent; here was proof right before her very eyes. If they had been this way before, there was hope it could be so again.
It was a night she would never forget. It was heavy in her soul the day one of Rauru's outposts was soon to be leveled by an agitated horde of them. The sky was dark and foreboding, alive with the cumulative dread of the royal family and the soldiers sworn to protect them.
She refused to acknowledge the presence of something like the Calamity. It simply could not have been possible; he had not come to pass yet.
The molduga's rage was palpable even from a distance as they snaked along the ravine, their ferocious mouths open. She could not piece the puzzle together in her brain;
"There's so many of them," she cried. "But—but why would they..."
King Rauru stood tall and proud, unwavering. His courage gave her strength, and when he put his fingers together in ritualistic symbol, she knew he'd quickly drawn upon his wisdom. Queen Sonia stretched out her hand, intuiting his plan without a single word exchanged between them, knowing she needed to combine their power to ensure the safety of all.
She shot a glare—though it was not mean, not really—to Zelda, that unspoken command clear to her, as well. Unsure what exactly she could do, she knew she could not do nothing. She reached out, willing with all her might for the stone around her neck to amplify whatever lie within her, and for it to aid the king in this moment.
It'd worked. She felt the surge of her power pulse through her once, hard, before flying from her fingertips and settling into Rauru's gemstone. For a split second, all went disturbingly quiet: the frantic knights, the roaring beasts in the valley, the air sucked dry even of any ambiance.
And then hell had broken loose, straight from the empty space between King Rauru's fingers. The beam was pure, concentrated light, blinding in its brilliance and deafening as it cracked through the air like lightning.
The scent of it hit her first, searing ozone followed by the telltale stench of burnt flesh coiling in her nostrils and choking her from the inside out. She recoiled, covering her nose and mouth with her hand, uncaring how disrespectful it may appear. Her life had just been saved; all of the Hylian's lives had been saved, and she should be grateful.
The sounds came second. Amid the cheers of her guards she could hear it, the agonized wails of the molduga that hadn't been fortunate enough to be hit point blank. There was a panicked, repeated slamming of tails beating the canyon walls or slapping uselessly against the sand as they died slowly. It was a horrid way to die, and she fought the flashes of memory of Sheikah bodies twitching and covered in blood. They, too, had gasped out horrid last breaths, their unique voices lost in immeasurable pain. She gagged.
She finally managed to open her eyes, watering from her growing dread and the feeling of death all around her. She shouldn't look, did not want to look, but she had to look. All of her worst doubts surrounding the first king of Hyrule would be confirmed if she did, and yet her gaze drew back up regardless and settled over the canyon.
He'd truly killed them all, content to rob the others of a merciful death. But...but they were animals, didn't he see? Surely someone like Rauru, with goodness at his core, could see that.
But he hadn't. He had acted upon his wisdom and power alone to quickly determine the most effective method, not a care given that it was a grotesque display lacking in empathy entirely. Had he considered courage, he would have been down in the valley, his feet in the hot sand. She knew enough of the power of light to know what was possible. A barrier, an introspective look into the molduga's hearts to uncover what had driven them to such rage, anything. His cowardice had been laid bare as far as she was concerned.
Hell, Sonia held the power of time in her hands—literally. Who knew the extent of such a thing? It'd been enough to draw back Zelda thousands upon thousands of years as the castle hoisted itself into the air. It couldn't have stopped rampaging beasts clean in their tracks? Had Sonia thought to try? Rauru had not even considered stopping to ask his beloved wife of her opinion.
I believe you were sent to us for a reason, Zelda, the king had told her ad nauseam. It'd made her wary of him at first, unsure of his intentions and more so of his certainty in things. But she could agree with that now, if only because there was a part of him she'd long suspected he kept hidden away with the utmost care.
His power had revealed it, and she would use her own to stay his hand.