Chapter XXXIII – Legacy of the Gerudo King
"You're back!" Ganondorf had barely set foot in the Spirit Temple as Koume appeared out from a dark vortex, followed by her sister. "And it seems your hunt has been successful."
"Yes, indeed," Ganondorf answered, accompanied by an eerie moaning behind him. Full of distrust, he watched the two hags. Their eyes leered at the bags his two conjured Redeads carried on his command. He did not like that glimmer in their eyes. Not at all. He grabbed his pickings and pressed them near his body. "And these are mine. Mine alone!"
Fake tears built up in Koume's eyes. "Ah, come now, Ganny. You aren't so selfish that you could let two poor old women starve, can you?"
"Yes I can! And now stop calling me stupid names! If mine is too long for your ancient minds to remember, then at least shorten it to a reasonable one!" The two undead crumpled to the ground, releasing their last moans. Ganondorf walked by without giving the hags further attention. If they wanted something tasty, they had to get it themselves. One of the bags got heavier. A look to the side revealed that Kotake tried to pull it off from him. He grumbled and abruptly lifted it up, making her fall down.
Koume crossed her arms in front of her chest and released an insulted sigh. "They have really forgotten to teach you any manners, Dorfy." Ganondorf felt the urge to punch into her face. Barely he refrained from it and just drilled his fingers deeper into the leather of the bag. Not courtesy stayed his hand but because he remembered, last time they pushed him over his limit and he was unable to control his anger, they ignored him for days.
Not that he minded at first, he had enjoyed that silence and not being bothered by their giggling. Though they refused to teach him further. Soon he had to admit that without their help, he could not improve but to beg forgiveness would be an insult to everything he was. He tried again and again to advance on his own. Only dismal failure greeted him. How much he loathed it, just how much when he was down there on his knees in front of them. Hopefully his memory and especially theirs would erase that most pathetic and embarrassing moment sooner than later.
For now he just searched for peace in a chamber. Torches illuminated the grave, held by snakes carved in stone, while he sat on a wooden chair, using the sarcophagus as a table. Absently, he gazed at the golden shield attached to the wall, telling the legend of a fierce Gerudo who now lay here.
The blue flame he emitted from his hand heated up his food. Though he had almost spent almost a year under the care of the two witches, such magic still fascinated him. How it would glow on his skin without harming. A true shame that he lived for so long without these powers and almost wasted the opportunity to gain them when he turned his back on the witches.
How delightful to think what he could do when he discovered all the secrets of the dark arts. If he could one day revive all the buried here, raised as warriors since childhood, he would have a great army under his command. With that he would even feel bold enough to take the war to the Hylians.
Ganondorf's grin vanished. Reality spoke another language than his foolish dreams. By now, he could call himself lucky if he was able to reanimate two corpses at once and make them follow his orders. Commanding even such few drained his energy fast. And still, he preferred to not use such abysmal magic on his own kin. Despite the powers, deep inside it felt wrong to him to turn them into such mindless creatures like Redeads.
Truly fortunate that the desert gave him a solution to this misery. Even decades after the war, the desert lured enough treasure hunters and outlaws in and from time to time he ran into one. Since they had no chance to survive an encounter after being weakened by the harsh sun, they were perfect subjects for him. Nobody would miss them and no one would ever hear of the dark magician who bewitched them.
Ganondorf braced his head on one hand while chewing a bit of his meat. A delicious taste it had but he noticed little of it when he still brooded about how far away he was to become a true master of the dark arts. It would take him years, more likely even decades before he would come anywhere close to having an army of undead, if ever. Especially that 'if' left a very bad taste in his mouth.
"My, my, Ganny. What's bothering you?" Ignoring that despicable nickname, Ganondorf turned around, looking down at Koume and her icy hair.
He merely grumbled before he made the effort to put his frustration into words, "It's all so damn annoying. I finally want to slay that cursed Hylian and his bastard soldiers but it's a lost fight right at the start. I lack the power in men and… hey!" Ganondorf felt a draft of heated air and turned his view back on the table in front of him. Too late. His dish, gone.
"Now I understand very well why you would journey through the desert despite the troubles. Ho ho ho." Kotake floated on her broom, taking a big chew of her stolen food.
"You…" Ganondorf formed a magical ball in his fist but Koume took his hand, making it vanish.
"You truly have to learn a lot if you want to be the King of Thieves. You can't let yourself get robbed, especially not so easily," lectured Koume him. Ganondorf just let his other hand slam down on the table. The chair crashed against the wall when he jumped on his feet and marched outside. "And you have to learn to get your fits under control." He never bothered to give an answer.
At times he wondered if they were as old as they claimed to be, about four hundred years. They behaved more like toddlers imprisoned in a granny's body. That became especially apparent when they started quarrelling about their exact age in those shrill voices. Gruesome, just gruesome, as if a century or two even mattered for old fossils like them. A shame, really a shame he needed them, otherwise he would have long since gone to spare himself this annoyance.
Ganondorf returned to the great hall that gave him enough room to practice. His hunger had gone anyway thanks to those old hags and their silliness. He breathed life into a skull, now floating midair with batwings keeping it up. Eagerly it rattled with its teeth. A blue mist surrounded it as it flew aimlessly in circles. Even though cast by his own magic, he struggled to think of any uses for this creature. It was aimless and fragile, like a bubble, and so he dubbed it as such.
"That's nicely done." Koume appeared behind him while her sister, still on her broom, enjoyed his her ill-gotten meat. Ganondorf just tried to stay calm even as he desired to grab her broom and smash her into the floor. In her old age, she may just turn to dust by such harsh behavior. Not that he would mind.
"Well, it's still meaningless." He tried to ignore the tasty smell while he turned the bubble into a motionless skull again. "Unless my foes die of laughter, then it has indeed fulfilled its purpose. But I could as well spare me that embarrassment and just offer myself for execution. It would have the same result."
"There is still the possibility to forget about your revenge and just cause a bit of havoc here and there. It's a pleasant lifestyle after all." Though Koume had offered it as a suggestion, Ganondorf believed he saw a sinister glimmer in her eyes.
"Not in a lifetime!" Just the thought of giving up without a fight awoke his fury. "But it pisses me off that I lack the power to scrub the floor with that bastard of a Hylian because that high and mighty rat hides himself behind an army! And what am I? A single man! If I could take them one by one or lead an army of my own, then he would be in for a surprise. I would make sure never forgets it, not even when he burns in hell for all eternity!"
"You believe that more power could make your plans of invasion successful?" Kotake landed next to her sister but only after she had finished eating.
"Of course! In the arena, the only thing that mattered was power. But it's different to face one or a few enemies at a time compared to hundreds of thousands. Even the most powerful warrior can't stand up to such a force. It's inhuman, you have to be blessed by a god to even dream about surviving, let alone victory." Ganondorf looked back at the skull laying on the floor. He could not fool himself. Deep inside he knew he would never be able to pay Aldar back his atrocities. Even after years of training, no matter the powers he gained, they would not suffice to take the war to the court of the Hylians. He was still a mere mortal and a lone one as well, Gerudo King or not. He had no kin to watch his back; the Hylians themselves made sure that he never would.
"Truly astonishing how much you both have in common despite living two centuries apart. Your motivation might vary but your goal is the same." Ganondorf raised an eyebrow, not understanding the sudden switch in topic. "That raises the question if you can finish where he had failed."
Still caught in disbelief, he replied, "Have you just started to talk about my precursor out of nowhere?" Ganondorf did not know much about the former king. He never bothered either, history and past events never belonged to his interests. In their teaching though, the witches could not miss the chance to feed him at least a bit about his ancestor no matter his reluctance.
The last king died young at the hands of a disease, thinning out the knowledge about the male Gerudo line even further. The one ruling two centuries ago, he was an outstanding one. A great king the witches called him with even greater ambitions to rule not only over his own people but to spread his dominion far beyond the desert's border. He advanced quickly in the dark arts, always driven by his desire to gain more power, even going so far as to call upon demons. Creatures that could be mighty allies but they also proved to be fickle with a mindset so very different from that of humans. Trying to understand their ways, it was set up for failure right at the start.
All of the Gerudo King's might ended when he faced a band of mercenaries, stating they wanted nothing less than his head. Too renowned the Gerudo King had become for his powers and ruthlessness, making him too great of a fear for all people. Those hired warriors were trained in fighting sorcerers and in the arts of reflecting magic back on its wielder. The Gerudo never bothered to hone his swordsmanship beyond the basics, pulling him into a long prolonging battle. Merciless he fought them back with monsters and undead at his command but even though he slew a great many of them, they proved to be his doom. Running out of powers, he was an easy prey for the survivors, setting an end to his ambitions of absolute domination.
"I believe the time has come for him." Kotake brought Ganondorf back from his thoughts.
"I agree. He might be fit to follow his legacy."
They knew how to make him curious without giving away the details. He also knew that if they wanted to keep something secret, they would keep it secret, especially when this rare serious gleam twinkled in their eyes. Only with a wave of their hands they showed him to follow.
Mutely, he walked deeper into the Spirit Temple. And deeper still. On the edge of asking them what idiocy they had on their minds this time, they shoved him into a room.
Dust greeted him. Sticky air. He suppressed the urge to cough when he looked into the room barely lit by magic-fueled torches. Book shelves lined the walls, most of them telling the history of the Kingdom of Hyrule or retold the legends roaming around. One even devoted itself about theories from the world's creation. Though they, just as the ones laying on the desk, were all covered beneath a layer of dust. They had not been touched for ages.
Still wondering about the hags' intentions, Ganondorf's view fell on a portrait hanging over the desk. He only trusted his sight after a second gaze. The surprise claimed him. The man depicted there, around his mid-twenties to thirties with fiery red hair, glanced piercingly back at him with those yellow eyes. If he would not have known better, it could have been indeed a picture of himself.
No denying they shared the same bloodline, though he never expected to see a portrait of someone this similar. Ganondorf stepped towards it and inspected the plate fixed beneath. He never got past the name engraved there: Garland. For a reason unknown, he felt a sting inside his chest. This name sounded familiar, very familiar. But why?
"May I ask you a question, Ganondorf?" He turned around yet received no time to give an answer. "Have you ever heard the legend of a divine relic, said to possess a fragment of the power of the world's creators themselves?"
In disbelief he stared at the sisters, waiting for their grim façade to turn into a laughter he despised ever since. They remained serious. Unnaturally serious for them that is. "You're talking about the legend of the Golden Power?" he asked after he had overcome his disbelief. It was the only tale he heard about in his days in Hyrule that could match theirs.
"Ah." A pleased smile appeared on Koume's face. "You know about it. That makes things easier."
"Are you mocking me?!" Ganondorf yelled without letting her finish. "You dragged me here with all that secret-mongering, only to spit this bed-time story into my face?!" The two remained unconcerned by his fit. Not even the corners of their mouths raised to give a laughter. Ganondorf crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You two don't want to tell me that this Garland here actually believed in this fairy-tale?"
"Oh, no, Ganondorf, no. He didn't believe in it." Koume and Kotake both gave him that mischievous smile. "He knew it is true."
At first baffled, Ganondorf let his arms sink. "Then he is even more pathetic than I thought." Disgusted, he shook his head. "It's embarrassing that I must call such a fool my ancestor."
"At least you aren't gullible. A characteristic that comes in handy often times but now there is no need for distrust." Kotake walked past Ganondorf towards one of the shelves, letting her fingers run over the book's backs. "Garland has spent many days within these walls and he could throw fits just as good as you if someone dared to disrupt him. He came far with his work, farther than anybody before him, but there is only so much a king of a warrior's tribe can do." Kotake turned her gaze back on Ganondorf. He remained quiet. The things she told, they sounded interesting and the way she spoke, he doubted it was just another cruel joke.
"He wasn't a scholar, he was a sorcerer, skillful indeed, but it did only that much for his research. He needed another one." Koume walked towards her sister. "One of his own folk would have been of no help and he could not trust another human. Too fragile the bond, it breaks so easily when power is involved. Make it an almighty one and the temptation even breaks those most loyal to you. No, he needed someone, something else and he sought that in a demon. He needed one not lusting for power but still exceeding in studying myths. That was when, after a long search, he conjured Agahnim into our world. That demon has long since found his pleasures in watching humans massacring each other and all shiny things crossing his way. However, power, he desired no more than he already possessed. To be blunt, he couldn't care less about it."
Both sisters made a pause but Ganondorf did not answer. He just wanted them to continue, this time they might indeed have something worthwhile to say, as seldom as it was. "Garland promised Agahnim every treasure they would find on their journey, because what are treasures compared to an almighty relic? They entered a pact that would only end on Garland's success." Kotake walked over to the scripts laying on the desk, brushing the dust away with her gnarling fingers. "A perfect team, the demon delved into the myths and snatched every shiny thing he got his hands on, while Garland got rid of their enemies with his monstrous followers and lead him to other ruins. And he got close, very close to his goal of pursuing the Golden Power."
Koume shrugged with her shoulders, interrupting her sister, "But you know his journey ended at the hands of the mercenaries. If he wouldn't have been too arrogant to only rely on his magic, he could still live today. As the ruler of all that is."
Ganondorf felt his palms getting sweaty by the thoughts of such a source of power. A godlike one… yet his excitement soon vanished. "Why are you telling me this? If you have all the notes and journals of Garland here, why would you not go and find it for yourselves?"
"Ah, Ganny, we could not use such a relic to its full potential." His mood worsened instantly by hearing that despicable nickname again. Foolish he was to think they got over it. "Kings shall rule, not their guardians. But unfortunate that is not the only reason. Even if we wanted to, we could not get it. What you see here is what Garland had researched but what his companion had done, we never had access to. Garland found that if Agahnim takes care of it, no other mortal will snatch the relic away before him. In that regard, it was a clever choice but with his death, only the demon possesses the missing pieces that can bring you closer to the divine relic."
Ganondorf observed the two quietly. What they talked about, it might indeed be the one thing he needed to fulfill his dream. A relic granting him godlike powers… however, there was one thing that pushed it far out of his reach. "And how the hell should I find that missing piece? I can't conjure a demon, at least not now, and I know nothing about this Agahnim. So even if I could call on any demons, I doubt I can get my hands on that very specific one."
"No, you don't need to." Ganondorf leaned against the bookshelf nearby, still struggling to see how all these things they told him should get him anywhere. "It might be true that Garland had died but their pact would only end when he would have achieved his goal. Since he had not, Agahnim was and still is bound to this world. Well, not that it bothered him, he enjoyed watching mortals suffering by their own kin too much and never showed any interest in returning to his world. Most likely, he is doing that at this very moment and hording riches while he's at it."
Ganondorf felt that sting as if he remembered something. He looked back to the portrait of his ancestor. Garland. Yes, Garland, he remembered, he remembered very well now why it felt that familiar. He had heard that name, many times because he himself was the one being called it. By only one man ever and during all the years Ganondorf had known him, he always wondered if that man was even a human.
The hags looked bewildered at Ganondorf. "Is something bothering you?"
He lowered his gaze, though he still could not believe. It could not be true, it just could not. "What did he look like?" Sweat broke out on his neck as he tried to stay calm. It could not be true. "Agahnim! What did he look like?!"
"Oh, that's a long time ago." Kotake fiddled around her chin. "And we had not seen him even that often. He shared quite the proportions of a tall man, though his skin was rough and had a blue tone. His nails always reminded us more of black claws. But most of the time he wore robes that hid his face and let only his hands be seen."
Utterly caught in disbelief, Ganondorf had to brace himself at the desk, taking a seat on the chair.
It fit. It all fit together. Their description of his outer appearance, his uttermost interest in riches. And even though Ganondorf never had believed watching humans fighting and suffering at their own hands would be that much of a pleasure to him, it made sense now. Adding in the fact that he and only he called him Garland, it left him doubtless that Agahnim had become Azett once that one's master had died.
What a sick pleasure it must have been for him that he got his master's descendant in his claws, commanding that boy around every single day, sending him into battles to the death, watching him suffer to survive for years.
"Damn it," grumbled Ganondorf after he had digested his realization. Grand he knew now where to get the missing piece of Garland's research but the fight against Agahnim, or Azett, or however he called himself now, would be lost before it even began. That demon knew him well for had he been enslaved by him for over a decade. Strengths, his weaknesses, even his origin and the powers it granted, he knew them all while Ganondorf knew nothing besides the fact he could easily fall to the demon's magic. He would not be so foolish to think his own powers were even near Azett's level.
"What is the matter? Have you encounter Agahnim before?" Ganondorf noticed the excitement in Kotake's voice.
"The leader of the arena," muttered Ganondorf.
Kotake crossed her arms. "Why all of a sudden do you bring that guy up? You never wanted to talk about him."
"He is Agahnim!" Ganondorf burst out, forcefully enough that the two hags recoiled. "And that bastard is an absolute monster to fight! He never cared to have guards around, except he wanted his peace. I have felt his powers on my own body, they are devastating." Ganondorf grinded his teeth. It certainly would have been easier to search for that demon, even if it would have taken years, instead of knowing it was Azett. Because decades of training would be needed before he could even think about surviving a fight with that demon and centuries to start thinking about victory.
Koume and Kotake did not seem to be bothered and out of the corners of his eyes, Ganondorf could see their sinister smiles. "Since when have you become an honorable man?" Before he could react to such an insulting statement, Kotake already continued, "Why fight him fair? You have everything you need, you only lack the knowledge to use it to your advantage. Let us show you how you can put that little demon in his place. Then go and fulfill the legacy of the old Gerudo King."