Chapter VII – Road of Desperation

It did not matter how far he walked. It was always the same. Darkness and silence. No light. No noise. Just an uncomfortable prickling in his body. But he was unable to pin the source as it felt to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

With the time passing by, the prickling began to focus. Soon it grew in its intensity to a point it was strong enough to force him down. First on his knees, then on his hands, his elbows. But even when he crumbled full of pain, it did not vanish. It increased. Further and further. He screamed but his cries silenced in the darkness. No escape, there was no escape and soon it did not only possess his body, but his mind as well.

Ganondorf opened his eyes, releasing a rasping sound when he breathed in. Though he could not see his vision being blurred, there was light and a constant numb sound buzzing in his ears. Impossible to tell where he was. His body was too exhausted to feel out his environment.

One thing tortured him. And it was remorseless in doing so. A pain that spread from his shoulder. He tried to get into a more relaxed position to lessen it, but his body was too weak to make a reasonable movement. He had to endure it until it would lessen by itself.

Once the time passed by and his senses recovered, he figured out that he was at the infirmary, though he could not remember when he was brought here or what led to his injuries. When he tried to grab the details, they vanished in the depth of his memory again.

A sting in his chest. His blood rushed faster through his veins. Fragments of him training with Karlos showed before his inner eyes. And he trained hard, every day. Shortly afterwards, he remembered the reason: the Great Tournament was at hand, maybe it was even less than a day by now.

Ganondorf grumbled. He had no time to care for his shoulder, he had to get up on his feet. He regretted his hectic movement of lifting up his upper body. A pain radiated from his stomach area that was fierce enough to stun him, forcing him to fall back with a loud groan. Gruesome, just gruesome, it overshadowed even the one in his shoulder. He never thought that he could get that badly injured in a training season, albeit it would be interesting to know what Karlos did to him.

Before Ganondorf could further panic about losing his tournament attendance, he felt a hand on his arm. "Are you awake?" He slightly turned his head to the side to see Dina, though he noticed that even this took an effort. "You certainly are tough as nails. I wasn't even sure if I can get you through after all the blood you've lost, but seems like you were lucky and the steel hasn't hurt any vital spots."

Ganondorf looked irritated at Dina since he did not get why she talked about him like he had been doomed. She paid no attention to his confusion. "I had given you about a week or two before declaring your death but that you only needed four days to come back to your senses… impressive."

Dina bended herself over Ganondorf's head when she straightened the area around his eyes to look into them. "You feel a bit dizzy by now, but this will go away. Give us three to four days and the injury through your underbelly will healed up enough that you are able to get up again. Though it will still take some more time before you can fight again but that's not important now. First of all, you must rest."

Ganondorf stared bewildered at Dina after it dawned on him what might have happened. The question about it was burning on his tongue, but he was afraid of the answer. He feared that his worst nightmare, that the wounds did not originate from training but from an arena battle, might be true. When he tried to ask Dina, only grunting sounds left his mouth.

Dina loosened the bandages on his lower body to examine his wounds when she responded indifferently, "I don't speak the pig's language. If you have something to say, do it in a way I understand. Otherwise keep quiet to let your body rest. It needs this."

Ganondorf got mad at himself, how he even failed to express himself properly. It was embarrassing. But as long as he did not know for certain what caused his actual situation, he would not find rest. He pulled himself together and muttered, "What… happened…"

Dina interrupted her work when she eyed Ganondorf suspiciously. "You don't remember?" She looked worried but that expression soon vanished and she returned to her work. "The loss of memory must have been caused by the state of shock. Nothing to further worry about. For your question, the guards who should cart off your corpse noticed you were still breathing. Azett asked the audience if they wished to spare your life or call the executioner to crush your skull. You know it, the usual procedure with defeated gladiators who survived."

Without warning, Dina dropped an ice-cold mixture on Ganondorf's stomach. Caught off-guard, he cringed together which his body punished him with a searing pain. Dina continued her telling without paying attention to his groaning, "You can figure out yourself that those who rose their hand to see you live outnumbered those who wanted to see you dead. And besides the champion, you're the only one who made it out alive."

Meanwhile, two guards in the company of another fighter came in. "We have a costumer for you," said one of the man, unperturbed. "Can we store him here anywhere?"

"Yes, put him on a bed. I'm coming once I'm finished," answered Dina without giving a look, though Ganondorf paid no attention. He only thought about the events Dina told him, but the realization that resulted from it was the worst. Because his dream, his hope of freedom, it was crushed. Shattered. Even destroyed. Entirely.

At this very moment, he felt nothing. Not anger. Not desperation. Not grief. Nothing. There was just a deep and empty hole inside him. Because this time, he had not only lost a battle, no, he had forfeited his entire life. Forever.

The days passed and Ganondorf neither had thirst nor hunger. If it was not for Dina forcing him to eat by threatening to call the guards if he kept on refusing, he would not even have touched his meals. He could not remember another time in his entire life were his morale felt that low.

Ganondorf had lost the single reason that kept him on fighting. Albeit the days, even years seemed endless and he never knew if he got out alive from a fight or not, there was always this single light of hope. The hope that one day he became a free man. A master of his own. That hope, it had vanished because neither anybody ever attended the Great Tournament a second time nor would he ever have the money to buy himself free. His life had hit a dead end. And for him, there was no way out of it.

For the first time he tasted utter defeat. He never believed he could be such a broken man. But he was. His pride, his self-confidence, his willpower, they had made place for doubts and even desperation.

On the fourth day after he regained his consciousness, a well-known man entered the room. A sardonic smile appeared on his face when he walked towards him. "Well, redhead. I had some business here, so I thought I might give you a visit and enjoy how lousy you feel."

Ganondorf glanced at him before he turned his head away and responded harshly, "I have to disappoint you. I feel good. At least a few seconds ago, but I'm certain that once you leave, the good feelings return." He did not show any weakness to Mikrul, he never would, even though it was very hard for him to hide it and keep his strong façade.

"My dear worthless redhead. If I were you, I would watch my tongue very carefully. Because I don't think that your obnoxious attitude will do you any good from now on." Ganondorf looked in irritation at Mikrul, though that one's expression remained relaxed. Mikrul had an intonation that did not fit his liking. Not at all. "You should better behave and tame your temper if you don't want to rot away in a dark cell for the rest of your life."

Ganondorf needed a few seconds before he had found back his tongue and responded bugged, "You can leave that to Karlos. And you can immediately leave as well if you have nothing worthy to say."

A hateful laughter filled the room. Gladly, Mikrul was out of his reach, otherwise he was not sure if he had been able to restrain himself from getting violent and crush his skull on the next wall. At least Mikrul was good enough to distract him from his frustrating thoughts. At least one time in his life he proved to be useful for something.

Once Mikrul had calmed down, he said, amused, "Hasn't Karlos told you about his retirement? I can't believe it. But he's gone, redhead. Gone. And he won't come back. Especially not for some trash like you."

Ganondorf felt how his face color must have become pale from one moment to another. In that very moment, the memories rushed back. He remembered it. Very clear now. The conversation with Karlos on the last day before the tournament.

"Oh, seems like you can use your brain sometimes. Though you become almost likable when you're speechless. Maybe it's because you spare your environment your incredible arrogance." A disdainful grin appeared on Mikrul's face. "The good, old Karlos. It's a shame you haven't met him after your pathetic defeat. I have never seen him this mad and miserable at the same time. He was frightening everybody to the bones. No one even dared to get near him. Must have hit him hard seeing you lose, regarding that he had intentions to keep you with him until you had familiarized yourself with the outer world. If it wasn't for Dina, he probably would have come here and torn you apart because you've ignored his advices. Again." He waved with his hand, releasing a sneering sound. "But you always ignore them. You're just that dumb. Much muscles, few brain. That's the redhead we know and hate."

Ganondorf did not answer him. Albeit he despised that man, he did not believe that he lied about Karlos. It made him feel even worse to know what he was willing to do for him if he had just won this tournament. Now he had lost that one as well. The one he knew and who cared for him since childhood. The one he respected and liked. At least a bit.

"A hard world, isn't it? You've disappointed the only man that liked you. You know, you're such a failure, through and through. It doesn't surprise me anymore that your blood related abandoned you in that desert." Mikrul brought out in a hateful laughter again.

Ganondorf did not know what to answer. He did not even know what to feel anymore. From one moment to the next, his whole situation had become even worse than it was already.

"Who is responsible for this noise? This as an infirmary, not the arena," interrupted Dina furiously when she rushed into the room. Once she got sight of Mikrul, her expression darkened. "Haven't you fulfilled your duty here already?"

"I thought to give the redhead a short visit. Wanted to see how he feels after his dreams were shattered," answered Mikrul disdainfully.

"I didn't ask what you're doing here and neither does it interest me. But since you're done, leave! You hinder my work with your noise. My patients need rest and silence and not some self-important snob!" Ganondorf rarely saw her in such a mood but even though she never showed to be emotionally involved with her patients, she practiced her work with passion.

"Okay, okay. No trouble. I'm out." Soothingly Mikrul waved his hands and walked towards the door. "But we'll met again, redhead. Assuming you haven't drowned yourself in self-pity by then." With a laughter he left while Dina still looked fiercely after him.

Once Mikrul was gone, Ganondorf stared thoughtlessly at the ceiling. He felt lousy. Extremely lousy. Everything that gave his life a meaning, a reason to fight on, it was all gone. "Why hadn't you just let me die back then?" he muttered. "It has all become way beyond pointless."

Dina stood beside his bed, taking a look at his injuries. She lifted her head from the wounds and he expected that she either commented on it indifferently or ignored his statement entirely. Instead, she reacted in a way he never believed her capable of. Dina smacked him. Forcefully. The pain in his cheek remained.

Ganondorf was too baffled to react in any way, but she had not finished with him when she yelled, "Got a hold of yourself! You call yourself a man, then act like one! And if you want to die that badly, than let the beast feast on you. There are enough people in this world that die for no reason, at least give your death a meaning by feeding those. But by any means, spare me your self-pitying wailing. It's pathetic and a waste of my time that others who want to survive are in need of."

Without waiting for an answer, Dina stood up. Her glare pierced through him, burning into his mind, before she left him. Ganondorf absently touched his cheek. It still hurt and he had not experienced her that mad before. Never. Neither had he believed she would ever show her emotions.

Dina did not come back and the time passed by. Seconds, minutes, hours. Yet her simple action had touched his pride. His willpower. They awoke, slowly, after they had fallen into a slumber. The reason why they returned was because he realized he had become a type of a man whom he loathed from the bottom of his heart due to their lack of power. Because he pitied himself. He swallowed up in his own misery. Yet the worst of it: he gave up fighting. He just gave it up.

Ganondorf clinched his fists. Dina was right. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. But he would not let himself be overpowered by weakness or fear. No. He was strong. He was powerful. Even though he might not have a chance to become free, his death should not be that pathetic. If he had to leave this world then he would do it with his head held high and a sword in his hand.

Author's Note

I admit, it took me a rather long time to work on this chapter until I was satisfied with it. To put Ganondorf in such a situation and neither skip the whole part after he lost and act like nothing bad happened nor let him become too OOC with his life-dream broken was a true challenge.
My beta-reader removed a lot of the doubts I had about that part and I hope the reactions come of as suitable for the characters for the other readers as well. :)