The Waters of Nayru
Chapter 26: Wild Rumors
By, Frank Hunter

It was a few months beyond Rigo's eighteenth birthday that Sid came to him with a piece of news that, although not interesting on the surface, did at least have some bearing over his life.

Rigo was out in the prison's small gymnasium, meditating on a rotted bench that was gradually falling off the wall. It was exponentially safer and easier to fall into his mental training sessions in the privacy of his cell, but it was beneficial to his image for the other inmates to occasionally see him sitting out and, seemingly, muttering to himself. It made them nervous.

Though he sat still, in his mind things were moving fast. In the mental training session composed for the day, Rigo had hold of a narrow, thin-bladed sword with an ivory handle in his right hand. Nabooru had a similar blade in her own hand, and the two were darting around the room, trading shots with each other, parrying, ducking, and diving across furniture and stairwells, each trying to keep up with the other, each trying to score a hit.

"Tell me," Nabooru said as she blocked an incoming swipe. "Are you still as quick out there as you are in here?" She was referring to the real world. Rigo had needed to keep up physical training on his body to realistically be able to mirror his performances on their mental battlegrounds. Nabooru, as she sadly did not have a body to maintain, did not need to do this.

Rigo hopped up on a table and lunged his sword at her while she twirled out of the way up several steps. "Why don't you come find out?"

"Ouch," Nabooru responded, feigning a wounded look. "You know I wish I could, darling."

A quick jump, and Nabooru spun into a forward flip over Rigo's head, coming down beside him on the same table. The force of it, with the combined weight of the two of them, overbore the table, and its legs collapsed, sending the two combatants sprawling to the ground. As they went down, both tried to swipe at the other, blocked each others' blades, and each grabbed the other's wrist. Nabooru came down on top of Rigo, struggling to pull her arm free of his grasp.

"You know something?" she said. "This reminds me of last night."

She took her knee and jammed it upward, powering it at the tender spot between Rigo's thighs, but he was quicker, caught her leg in his, and grinned up at her through bared teeth. He gave the spirit a headbutt to the face, a move that would likely have broken the nose of a mortal opponent and left her reeling, loosening her grip on him. He then took her and, with all his strength, threw her into the side of the stairwell that she had jumped from. She grunted as she hit and was left dazed and uncoordinated.

This was it: Rigo's chance for a killing blow. His chance to win. He scrambled to his feet and closed in on the recovering spirit, sword up for his final strike, and…

"RIGO! DID'YA HEAR!?"

The voice echoed throughout the training room in its volume, loud and utterly distracting.

"What?" Rigo looked around confused. It took a second, but he figured out who it was. "Oh, come on."

He tried to refocus on Nabooru, but the instant of distraction was enough for her to get her footing back. With an enormous smile on her face, she suddenly disappeared from where she stood. Teleportation was an ability he knew she was capable of, one he'd seen a couple of times but not one he knew how to counter.

An instant after her disappearance, Rigo felt a sharp pain at the small of his back that slid through him, and saw the end of Nabooru's sword come slicing out the front of his stomach. His mouth hung open in shock as he felt the killing blow land on him, and knew the fight was over.

"Touché," came the whispered voice of Nabooru from behind his ear. He could feel her breath on his neck she was so close.

"Damn it," Rigo swore. "Damn it. Every freakin' time."

He spun around to meet her and as he did, the sword protruding from his stomach immediately began melting, sagging and turning to warm water as it dripped down his body and to the floor. His own sword, still in hand, did the same, until both blades were gone and the place where Rigo should have been mortally wounded was nothing but a wet spot on his shirt. He and Nabooru were left facing each other unarmed. The other wore an annoying little smirk.

"We'll talk about this in a minute," he said, jabbing a finger at her.

"I'll look forward to it," Nabooru responded.

An exertion of effort and Rigo exhaled, opening his real eyelids and leaving that place and Nabooru with it. He blinked a couple of times as the image of the prison gymnasium came back to him, with its dank, dreary atmosphere and the musky smell of sweating men. A few of those were shooting nervous glances in his direction. Good.

He was not surprised at all to see the skinny form of Little Sid standing right beside him now. He looked up at the man, and the annoyance he felt must have shown on his face.

"Sorry, man," Sid said. " Did I interrupt? Were you, like, doing the sleeping thing again?"

"Meditation," Rigo corrected.

"Yeah, that," Sid said. "You do it a lot."

"Never mind about it," Rigo said. He took another deep breath to center himself back on reality. "It wasn't anything."

Sadly, came Nabooru's voice in his head.

"Shut up," he said out loud. Sid cocked an eyebrow at him, but didn't otherwise comment on the out-of-place directive. He had gotten used to Rigo's habit of talking to himself over the years, and wisely chose to ignore it when possible.

"Well anyway," Sid went on. "I guess you didn't hear."

"When do I ever hear, Sid?" Rigo asked.

The little man burst into giggles as though Rigo had just made the best joke he'd heard in weeks. "I hear ya, man," he said. "I hear ya. Get this." He lowered his voice conspiratorially, as though he actually minded if someone overheard his little bit of gossip. "Ya know how we're always talkin' about how crappy it is in this place?"

"It's a prison," Rigo said simply. "It's supposed to be crappy."

"Well yeah, but I mean, come on." Rigo didn't respond any further, so Sid went on. "Well, apparently word got passed up the line about the lifestyle in here. Like, way up the line. To the Hyrule Royal Family up the line. People are gettin' worried about the conditions goin' on in here, ya know?"

"You're still sore about that time they made you scrub the toilets," Rigo said. He got up and made to leave the gymnasium, to head back toward the cellblock. He really wasn't in the mood for this just now.

Sid scurried after him as he left. "There are better ways of doing that then sending a guy inside. It was horrible, man. Count your blessings you've never done it. But that's beside the point."

"What is the point?"

"This, man. Word has it that the Royal Family is sending a representative in to assess the prison. They're gonna make some changes around here boy, and make sure that asshole Warden is held responsible for all the stuff that's been going on."

Rigo grinned and shook his head. "So, what? You think they're gonna turn your cell into a chateau now?"

"Course not. But seriously, Rigo! Some stuff is bound to get better. More time in the gym, maybe? Fix the plumbing? Any of that'd be good news!"

"Sid, listen to me. Nothing ever gets better around here. You should know by now. Believe all this stuff when you see it, okay? Not an instant before."

"I know, man, I know. But a guy can dream, can't he?" Sid said.

"Go ahead," Rigo said. They reached the gate leading to the cellblock and Rigo checked in. Sid stayed behind to enjoy a little more of his due exercise time, so Rigo took the walk down to his cell with only the guard at his side. Once they arrived, the guard locked him inside and left, leaving him in silence. He found Gor Gurdy curled up in hibernation as he so frequently was, and so Rigo was once again alone with his thoughts. Well, his and someone else's.

You cheated, he thought at Nabooru as he settled down on the straw and hay that had served as his mattress since arriving in this place.

Eh, lighten up, Nabooru answered with the usual dash of sarcasm. You put so much stock into playing fair. I thought I'd have drilled the key lesson here home a dozen times by now.

Rigo closed his eyes and, in the quiet room, was able to re-enter his meditative trance relatively quickly. Before long, the training room again began to materialize around him, though everything he and Nabooru had mussed and broken in their previous fight was now set back to right. Nabooru herself was leaning against the stairwell, arms and legs both crossed.

"What lesson is that?" he asked.

Nabooru fixed him with an amused look. "That you can never count on an opponent to fight fair. So don't."

"Yeah, I get that," Rigo said, grabbing a chair and straddling it backwards. "But you've gotta keep it at least kind of real. I mean, teleporting? Come on, Nabooru. Nobody can do that in real life."

"There are all kinds of magical abilities people can gain if they're willing to sell their souls. Or worse. It's best to be prepared, kid."

"I'm not a kid anymore," he said, irritated.

She smirked. "I know that." She pushed off the wall and stepped over to his chair.

"Who are you preparing me to fight, anyway? The worst I ever have to deal with down here are clowns with homemade knives. No magic devils. No sorcerers."

"You may have forgotten," Nabooru said, and leaned her head down beside his, "but I made a promise to help you achieve something. And I don't know what you'll need to face before you can do it. So I'm preparing you for anything."

"You're wasting your time, then," Rigo said, growing somewhat uncomfortable at this topic. "That dream's dead. I can't be a king from here."

"Don't write off your destiny just yet," Nabooru said. "It's not over until it's over. Besides, I know you still believe in it, too."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"Because no matter how much I cheat, you're still trying to beat me," she said.

"I haven't managed it yet," Rigo scowled.

"But that doesn't mean it can't be done," Nabooru answered. "You keep your wits, look for the right opening, and be prepared for anything. You do that, and one of these days, you'll win."

"Hm," he grunted. He didn't have much else to contribute.

"Wanna go again?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Rigo looked up at her. She was already holding a double-bladed polearm in one hand, which had apparently materialized there out of nothing. Rigo grinned and pushed up off his chair.

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" he asked.

"Not for you, anyway," said Nabooru.

They continued sparring into the night.