The Waters of Nayru
Chapter 18: Out of the Frying Pan
By, Frank Hunter

When the time was right, or at least when Nabooru deemed that enough time had passed, Rigo stepped up on the ramp, placed the small package into the peephole, and struck his flint beside it. On his third try, a spark flew from the stone, caught in the side of the package, and the fabric began to slowly ignite.

Go! Nabooru yelled. Get down the stairs, put some wall between you and it!

Rigo obeyed. There was little else he could do at this point. Having gone almost a full day without water in the hot, dry place, even his Gerudo nature was no longer protecting him from the fatigue and delirium that came with heat exhaustion.

He'd made it most of the way down the stairs when the powder caught and exploded in a new wave of shock and sound. This time, unsteady on his feet as he already was, the shockwave caught Rigo at his back and pushed as surely as Pureet had done hours before. He lost his footing and, for the second time, took a tumble down the stone stairs, ending up splayed at the bottom.

"Oof!" he grunted as he hit, face first, before the pool of viscous quicksand below. He slowly got his hands below him and pushed himself back to his knees. Was he bleeding again? He couldn't really tell. He hoped not.

His vision was blurring somewhat before him, drifting in and out of doubles and keeping out of focus. He knew that his condition was serious, but couldn't do anything about it, couldn't even encourage his body to get up and get moving with any real speed. It was then he saw a scorpion come up, out of the quicksand. This one was smaller than the one from earlier, but it looked vicious, like it was covered in points as sharp and deadly as fishhooks.

Another came up from the sand. Then another. Then another. They were streaming toward him from all directions, a veritable swarm of nasty-looking creatures, when, finally, he saw the shaft of an arrow raise up from the sand before him and the first arachnid, the one Amili had skewered, rose up. It stood on its back legs reaching out toward him with its claws. The arrow still pierced it straight through its back, but it didn't seem to notice or care that it should not have been able to walk. That it should have been dead.

"There he issss," the scorpion hissed at its legion of companions. "There isss the brute who murdered meeeee. Kill. Kill!"

"No," Rigo said. "No, it wasn't me!" He shook his head unbelieving and leaned bac, away from the vermin. When he opened his eyes, the bugs were gone and he was again alone in the chamber.

His heart was beating in his chest like kettledrum. Were hallucinations a symptom of dehydration? He didn't remember. Was any of this real?

…get moving! What are you doing? Get up! Get up and get out of here!

There was a voice yelling at him in his head. Was it real? You're not supposed to listen to voices in your head. They mean you're going mad. What was he doing here, anyway?

Rigo! You can't stay here. The Stewardess could be back at any time!

Stewardess? It meant something. There was whiteness there, a mask. The Stewardess. There was a name, he thought. Sooru.

Sooru?

Sooru!

In a rush it came back to him. Sooru had taken Amili. She'd tried to kill him. He had to get out of here.

"Nabooru?" he asked, dazed.

Yes! I'm here, I'm ready. Get out of here, kid. There's a hole in the door! Go!

"The door?" Right! The explosion. He was going to get out of here.

Rigo pushed himself to his feet and stumbled back up the stairs. At the top, there was now silver moonlight shining in through a parting in the boulders at the top-right of the clutter. The hole looked big enough, sure. He'd have to get up to it though. He looked around the ground for something to help. The ramp he'd made had been blown to pieces in the explosion. It would be useless.

"I've gotta rebuild my ramp," he slurred out loud.

What? Nabooru asked. No! Just climb. You can reach.

Climb? It sounded familiar. Yeah, he could get up there. He tried to set his arm in the newly charred and opened hole, but ugh. It was so incredibly heavy, and didn't want to lift. He tried to pull himself up. He was just so tired.

Kid, you can rest soon. I promise. But you've gotta go now. Do it for Amili!

"Do it for Amili," Rigo repeated.

Right! Nabooru agreed. You gotta get outta here for her. Just picture her face, and do what I say. Can you do that?

"Yeah," Rigo said. "Yeah. For Amili.

Climb! she said. Rigo did.

Amili was in danger. He knew she was. The voice said she was. And all he had to do was listen to it, and she'd be okay. He could do that.

With some exertion he got himself up into the hole, wiggled his body through, and dropped out on the other side. He landed on the stone floor undramatically and flatly, then pushed back to his feet. The breeze felt so good. The cold night air was invigorating. It caressed his cheek, woke up his brain. He could think more clearly, if only a little.

Clear out, through the ruins. Go straight.

"I need…my supplies," Rigo said. "Water."

They took everything, kid. There's nothing for you. Just go.

He surveyed the area and found the remains of his little campfire. Nabooru was right. There was nothing there. No water skins, no bow. No camel.

Fine. He placed one foot ahead of the other and started down the stairs. Straight through the ruins. That's what the voice said.

"How…" he mumbled as he went. "How do I…make it…back…to Jirin?"

You can't go into the desert right now, Nabooru said sensibly.

"Then where…?"

You'll go into Hyrule. Rest and resupply.

Rigo grunted and kept trudging. He knew there were reasons he shouldn't go there, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what they were. As he crossed the ruins he tried, but he was distracted. So distracted.

"It's c…cold…here."

Don't worry about them. They won't bother you. Just walk.

The spirits, he remembered. Rigo wondered if Nabooru could see them. He squinted at the darkness, but of course he couldn't. What were they? Who had they been?

Who knew?

As he reached the end of the ruins, Nabooru instructed him to turn left, and he did. The sand now stretched out before him as it had so many nights before on their ride to the temple, but he could hear a sound from ahead. He'd heard it more faintly on the nights they'd slept in front of the temple, but it was growing louder as he kept walking. It was water.

Lake Hylia is just ahead. Just keep going

He listened, but the recovery he'd felt at the cool breeze was beginning to wane and his exhaustion was again setting in. The sound of water drove him, though, as his vision again blurred. He knew it would fix him and make him feel better. He licked his lips with his dry tongue and just pushed onward.

The wind was at his front now, pressing against him as though it willed him away from Hyrule. It was a force to be reckoned with in Rigo's weakened state, and it blew and howled and dried out his eyes as he fought against it. As he was hit by bursts of sand and air, he blinked, trying as best he could to clear his vision and see something, anything. After one particularly trying bout, he did.

Rigo cleared a grain of sand from his eye and turned. Before him stood a figure. The figure was black, blurry in the distance, but standing there immovable in the desert. Rigo wondered immediately if the person could help him. Did they have water? Was there a place Rigo could sleep?

He got his feet working again and trudged onward, closer and closer to the shape in the desert. As he did, the blur faded and became gradually clearer. The person was tall, massive even, with broad shoulders. A man, obviously. He wore black armor with brown leather strewn about in places. There was a cape flowing from his back, and reams of orange hair held in reams through a decorative golden headdress. He looked almost…Gerudo. He looked almost like…

"No!" Rigo cried out as recognition dawned on him. He knew the man. It would be impossible for him not to. He had seen his portrait on tapestries and in illustrations back home. It was a face that was feared and respected and revered the world over.

Before him, in the desert wastes at the end of the world, Ganondorf, the King of Gerudo, stood towering over him.

"Not you!" Rigo shouted. He tried to backpedal but lost his footing and fell backward onto his rear. It was all he could do to sit in the sand, eyes wide with fear.

"Pathetic," Ganondorf said from where he stood. He made no move to come closer to Rigo, just stared into him with contempt. The two regarded each other from a distance, the past and the future of the Gerudo tribe.

"You call yourself king?" Ganondorf asked.

"Yes," Rigo said, monosyllabically. "Yes."

"You call yourself King," Ganondorf repeated. "You allow an insolent, insignificant subject to rob you of your crown. You are weak. You do nothing."

"Don't kill me," Rigo begged.

"The King of Gerudo," Ganondorf said. "Is not a being to be trifled with. The King is more than just a man. The King is true power embodied. You are not this."

Rigo stared at him across the desert. The King of Thieves' eyes burned like orange coals in the dark of the desert.

"I am the King. Look at me!" Ganondorf gloated. "And the King has a role to play in history. I will subdue the Gerudo until all bow before me. Those who do not kneel shall be removed by pain of steel. I will march our armies across the desert and raze Hyrule Castle. The survivors of the Royal Family will scream and choke helplessly inside as it burns. I will turn every man, woman, and child of Hylian descent to ash, and only then will the true order of Hyrule take its form. The world will be shaped by the actions of the King, and the King shall rule it all beneath his heel.

"This is the destiny of the King of Gerudo," Ganondorf said. "And the King must follow his destiny."

"No," Rigo whispered. "That's not the way."

"Then you," Ganondorf said, "are not fit for the crown."

The King of Thieves raised his hand, palm toward Rigo, and the same fire that was in his eyes began glowing between his fingers. The energy coalesced into a deadly ball of magical fire and Rigo saw his death materialize before his eyes. It was seconds away.

"NO!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, and clutched his head in his arms, turning his back to Ganondorf. He squealed and whimpered and lay there. And nothing happened. A moment passed, and still there was nothing, and another moment and he risked peeking out over the sands.

There was nobody. Ganondorf was gone.

Rigo shivered and sat for a moment before his mind caught up with him. When it did, he lost control. He screamed and screamed and pounded his fists into the sand over and over again. Too much. This was too much. If this kept up, it wouldn't be long before the hallucinations scared him literally to death. It was unfair, he thought, for a child like him to have to deal with all this. This wasn't how life should have been. It was supposed to be easier. Didn't the Sand Goddess know that?

As he thought this, a ball of brilliant light went soaring by his head. He didn't even bother to look at it. What could it be now? A Forest Fairy? Or maybe the Moon just dropping down to say hello? He couldn't take much more of this.

Rigo! he heard Nabooru shout. At least, he thought he did.

"I'm seeing things, Nabooru," he slurred at her. "I'm seeing things that aren't there."

No, you're not! she yelled back. Run!

"Huh?" Rigo asked. As he did, another blazing light flew by his head. Rigo followed this one. It stayed lit where it hit the sand in front of him, as though it were on fire. Actually, that's exactly what it was. It was a fire, with a thin shaft of wood sticking out from it. An arrow?

He looked back behind him and, against the moonlight, vaguely saw the outlines of two Gerudo scouts galloping toward him on camelback. They each had another flaming arrow loaded into their respective bows, burning with fire that would light him up in the dark even if they missed, so their next shots would be easier.

RUN!

Rigo listened. He got to his feet and put the rest of his energy into the fastest sprint he could manage, to the east, away from the riders. They were closing the distance, but they'd taken their first shots too soon. He had seen them coming before they were in ideal range, and so he was able to move.

Arrows continued flying past him. One grazed him on the shoulder, but thankfully didn't stick. He barely felt the pain through the shroud of his delirium. The sand moved under his feet, and he wasn't dead yet. He wasn't dead yet. That was the idea to latch onto. As long as he was still alive, things could be fixed.

Moving at top speed with his life on the line, he didn't hear it in time when Nabooru next spoke. Whoa! she said. Wait! Wait!

By the time the words coalesced, it was already too late. Rigo had run straight over what was apparently the end of the desert and took his final step onto thin air. His body twisted with his momentum and he didn't even have a hope of grabbing onto anything to stop his fall. There was nothing to grab.

As he fell over the side of the cliff face, the sound of running water was amplified further, and he could see the silver moonlight reflecting off the liquid surface of a lake, as far as he could tell, miles below him. The sensation of gravity set in the pit of his stomach and he began to plummet, but instead of fear, his tired body felt only relief. Just one single thought passed through his mind as he fell.

Oh, good, he thought. I'm thirsty.