Chapter 55: Words From Outside

The sun grew dim, and the autumn chill made Nabooru shiver as she clutched at her coat. The few Gorons and Hylians that traveled with the army walked about with the same clothing they had worn the entire war, while every Gerudo covered themselves as though winter already fell. It was difficult to pose as the fearless and ruthless commander when you're visibly shaking in your boats.

The armies had stopped their march for the day. But instead of hiding in her tent, wrapping herself in her blankets or perhaps roasting by a night's fire, she had saddled Honeyhoof and left her army.

Two miles between the vanguard and the main body of the army, and then it would be two miles back. And nightfall would only make the chill run deeper. Maybe she could find some blankets and spend the night in the mainguard. Gan had enough room in his tent to house her for a night, and return to her post in the morning.

By the time she reached the core of the army, the nightly defenses had already been set. Wagons circled around, with wooden fences constructed at each entrance with guards standing watch. Or, more accurately, sitting watch before a fire.

"Who's that coming?" Called one of the guards, though she did not move from her warm place beside the flame. Lucky.

"Commander Nabooru, to see the king."

The vai nodded, and the guards furthest back got up to open the gate. Moving too quick for Nabooru's taste, the slower they moved the longer Nabs got to linger by the warmth of the fire. Of course, the soldiers rushed, they had no more desire to stay in the cold than she. They ushered her in, and no sooner had Honeyhoof passed did they shut the gate behind them.

Not yet winter, and the Gerudo were already growing miserable. The coming weeks would only get worse. The last time they campaigned through winter they lost more sisters to the cold than to battle. Nabooru did not relish the thought of going through that again.

At least the camp itself still had some warmth. The circled wagons blocked most the wind, and within that makeshift wall the people and animals all lived close together sharing their heat. It smelled worse than riding across the open countryside, but such was the price to avoid freezing.

Nabooru headed toward the center, where Gan's tent should lay. One of the more annoying losses from the Death Mountain catastrophe, his tent used to be easy to find, raised higher than any other. Now, she had to wander about asking the occasional soldier or camp follower for directions. When she found the appropriate tent, she noticed the merchant set up her shop not far from him. A weasel that one, squeezing into wherever she could to sell her wares to those most likely to afford them.

She dismounted Honeyhoof and tied her to a post along with two other horses she recognized. She must be the last to arrive.

"Vaasaaq," Nabooru said as she entered the tent. "Sorry I'm late, had to wait for my scouts."

There was no great table in Ganondorf's tent, nor was there any place designated to stand or sit. There was only one chair used for Gan's writing desk. Which for now remained empty. The other commanders spread about the room, Bethmasse standing tall near the entrance, Desquesza sat cross legged across from Gan, a map rolled out between them.

"Did I miss anything?" Nabooru asked as she sat at Gan's side. Only when the lamplight flickered over his face did she notice the deep bags beneath his eyes. Hair speckled his chin and lip, and the rest on his head had not been combed. He must not have slept in days, nor thought to take care of his appearance.

"Nothing has been decided," Bethe said.

"What news from the scouts?" Dessi asked. "It'll be best to go over their reports before we plan our next move."

Nabooru glanced down at the map and pointed at the river. "No sign of any octorok, meaning they're sticking to their orders. But this bridge is down. We won't be able to cross as we planned. Now word is, that at this bend here," she gestured to a curve on the river line, "the water is shallow enough to ford. But with the current cold weather, I can't see that being pleasant for anyone."

"The soldiers' life is not to be pleasant," Bethe said. "The horses will survive, and I will make certain the infantry know that complaints will be dealt with harshly."

"Infantry and cavalry is fine," Dessi said. "It's the wagons I worry about if we attempt a crossing. Chief Darunia's weapon, those bombs, they won't work if they get wet. And that's not even going into our supplies. We can't raid off the land anymore, if we lose wagons in the river crossing we'll be in a bad place come winter."

The three looked to Gan. But he did not say anything. He wasn't even looking at them, he stared down at the map. One hand rubbing against his temple, wincing.

"You listening there, Gan?"

Still nothing.

"Gan!" Nabooru said. "Big oaf!"

"What?" He looked up, speaking for the first time since she entered the camp. His voice soft, confused, as if he'd just woken up. "Yes. Fording the river. That will work."

"And the wagons?" Bethe asked.

"How long do you think it will take to build rafts for them?" he mumbled.

"A day, plus another to actually get all of them across," Dessi said. "We'll be further delayed."

But Gan was gone again. His mind wandered off wherever it went, his eyes shut tight. Even his breath sounded wrong, too heavy and erratic.

Nabooru looked to her fellow commanders, silently asking them what had happened to him. Desquesza raised her hands in shared confusion, Bethe shook her head.

Ancestors help me with him. "Then we make for the bend." If Gan wasn't going to lead, she would. "I'll cross with the van, and we'll set up camp. Bethe, you're the best at keeping the line orderly. Organize the crossing for the main body in sections. Dessi you'll look over the creation of those rafts. The order will be vanguard first, then the main, then the wagons, then Dessi you and your rearguard will pass after all the supplies are through. Afterward, we'll leave a detachment to try and get some sort of bridge set up. We'll need to come back along this way and the water will only get colder."

"The main body will take the most coordination," Bethe said. "I will need someone good to oversee one side while I am on the other."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Makeela is too flighty. I love our sister, but I cannot rely on her for something like this. She will be better served in the van. I propose a trade, Makeela for the new one, Tagoma, Gan promoted her for keeping the lines steady, correct?"

"Lot of responsibility for a new promotion," Desquesza pointed out.

"Best way to test her, then."

Nabs gave one last glance toward Gan to see if he would give any input. He muttered something, but Nabooru couldn't hear. "Then we'll trade officers. I'll return to the van in the morning with Makeela and send the new vai back to you. Is there any other-"

"If that is all, my sisters," Gan cut her off. "I wish to be alone for now." He spoke without looking at any of them. "I have much to think about. I am counting on each of you."

Nabooru got to her feet. Gan did not rise with respect to his commanders and friends. He did not notice anything at all anymore. His hand went to his temple, rubbing at it. All while his eyes stared down. But he did not look at the map, not truly. Lost in that world far beyond what the rest of them could see. Nabs gestured for the others to follow her out of the tent. Gan did not move as they left. Not even a goodbye.

"What is that?" Nabooru hissed as soon as the tent flap closed behind them.

"I've been in the rearguard," Dessi glared at Bethe. "How long has he been like this?"

"Since we left the mountain," Bethe said. "And each of you took your positions on the march."

"And you didn't think to tell us!" Nabooru shouted.

"It is not my place to judge what the king does."

"What are you talking about? That is exactly what you are supposed to do! What good is someone who doesn't question him? Especially when what he's doing doesn't make any sense."

Bethe scowled. "A soldier follows orders, even when they do not understand them. For the commander has more information than the soldier could ever have."

"You are a commander!" Dessi said. "And when those above you lose all sense and reason you're supposed to disobey, for the good of the army." She shared a pained look with Nabs. "She was the same after the assault on the Crown. I needed you then, sister. I can't always be the only one speaking sense."

"Do not speak to me as if I do not know what I'm doing," Bethe said. "Nothing the king does makes sense. He acted after the battle as he does now. He sat on the ground, taking heed of nothing. If we had listened to you, Commander Desquesza, we would have marched back down the mountain and abandoned Commander Nabooru to whatever fate was up there and the Crown would have fallen. But we followed our king, and when he decided the proper course of action he was correct. When he led us-" her voice lowered into a whisper. It was only then that Nabs noticed those staring at them. It was not every day the commanders of the army squabbled in public. "When he led us to a cursed forest, he again acted insane, saying he wished to go alone."

"But that is not-" Nabooru tried to say.

"We disobeyed him," Bethe spoke over her. "We sent people with him."

"You volunteered to go!"

"And I was wrong! What aid did you or I give him? We did not trust him, and we lost Saevus. I would have died with her had he not carried me over his shoulder as though I was a useless sack of onions. No. I do not question his actions or his moods. He knows things we do not. And I put my faith in his judgment."

Nabooru glanced to Dessi, but her friend only shrugged. "I didn't go in the woods."

"He can't lead an army when he's like this."

"That is why we are here," Bethe drew herself tall. "Until he is ready, we keep his army together."

Nabooru didn't even know the words to argue with her. When Gan first raised Bethmasse to his honor guard, the other vai joked she may not be the smartest. But even then Nabs didn't believe them. Her gargantuan friend grasped tactics as well as anyone, she did her duty better than most. It was not by mistake she was trusted as a commander, an equal to Dessi and her in rank. But by the sands once she had an idea in her head who could dislodge it? And even if there existed some eloquent scholar who could, it certainly wasn't Nabooru.

So she stomped off. Better to cool down than hurl insults at someone she considered as dear as family. It wasn't Bethe she was mad at, not truly. Behind her, Dessi continued the discussion, making some counterpoint on the nature of duty. But even if Desquesza won the argument, what good would it do? It wouldn't awaken Gan from his stupor.

"Is there something wrong, Commander Nabooru?" came a soft comforting voice in perfect Gerudo.

"Hmm?" She had wandered over to the merchant's wagon. Of course, exactly someone she wished to speak to. "No, it's nothing."

"Fairly loud nothing," the merchant gave a pleasant smile. "If you don't mind me saying so. Is something wrong with the king?"

"I said it was nothing."

"Sorry commander," she nodded her head low. Almost like a bow. "Is there anything I can offer you. Perhaps something warm to eat on a cold night like this?"

Now that was a pleasant thought. As little as she liked the merchant, she would not refuse a warm meal on a cold night. She looked over the vai's wares, most of the molduga fins were gone, but there remained some interesting things, ingredients for soup, salted meats, clothing, shoes, and a ball that hung near the back of the wagon. Small, with rough stitched leather holding it together. "Is that for sale?"

"This?" The merchant crawled through the wagon to bring the ball to her. "For certain, but I did not have many in stock and this one isn't of the best quality."

Nabooru held out her hand. The merchant handed her the ball. It was coarse, tough, and lopsided. But it still compressed when she squeezed it without bursting. Probably made from an inflated pig bladder, like the one they had all those years ago. She tossed it into the air and caught it. Just heavy enough for a good throw, and not too hard. "I'll take it."

The merchant smiled. "Normally it costs only ten rupees, but I see that today you are in most dire need of amusement so-"

Before she finished talking, Nabooru grabbed a handful of rupees and dropped them on the counter built into the wagon. Uncertain how much she gave, but it was more than five. "Keep it."

"Thank you, commander," the merchant gave a happy little laugh. "I hope it is suitable, it's meant for a child. I'm afraid I don't have anything bigger."

Nabooru ignored her and walked back toward Gan's tent. Dessi and Bethe still argued with each other as she walked past them. "Can one of you find Storm?"

"This for Gan?" Desquesza asked.

"Who else?"

"Then of course. See Bethe? She's actually helping."

Nabooru did not pay attention to Bethe's response. She marched into the tent, seeing Gan still sat exactly where he had been when she left. "Oy, Gan."

"Hmph."

"Gan. Ganondorf Dragmire. Look up."

"Yes, Nabs," he sighed without turning his eyes toward her. "I can hear you."

Oh well, she warned him. She raised the ball above her head and threw it with both hands at him. It flew as straight as that lopsided ball could and with a loud thwap smacked into the side of Gan's face.

He whirled about, his eyes ablaze in anger. His hand outstretched as if he was about to call his sword. And for a moment all the wariness and all that stupid contemplation disappeared and the warrior returned. She grinned as his anger turned to confusion. "Nabs, what was that?"

"You were supposed to catch it," Nabooru walked to where the ball had rolled and picked it up, showing it to him.

"You're supposed to warn people!"

"I did, you decided not to look. Let's try that again. Gan. Look up." And she threw the ball. He caught it with one of his massive hands. "One!" she shouted. Come on you big oaf, remember.

"One?" He shook his head. "Nabooru, whatever you're trying to do, I don't have time for this."

"Agreed. You should be busy with scouting reports, organizing supplies, or attending to your vai. Everything needed to run this army. When was the last time you took watch? Ate with anyone? Mediated the arguments of the camp? But you aren't doing any of that are you? You're sitting in the dark, like a prisoner in your own tent."

"I'm thinking."

"And doing a wonderful job with that. Why if you were some priest or one of them, what do the Hylians call them? Those useless people who think all day."

"Philosophers."

"Right, Hylian for useless people. If you were one of them, you'd be a master, I've no doubt."

"They're not useless. Understanding the world and our place in it isn't-"

"Are you going to just sit there complaining or are you going to throw the ball?"

Gan rolled his eyes, but he tossed it back. It barely made it halfway to Nabooru before it smacked into the ground, bounced twice, and rolled to Nabs' feet.

"That may have been the most pathetic thing I have ever seen."

"Nabooru, we aren't children anymore."

"Clearly, as a child you could throw better than that." She kicked the ball up into her hands and threw it at her friend again. He caught it as easily as before. "One!"

"Why are you starting the count?" Gan gave an exasperated whine. But at least he threw the ball back to her this time. "Even as children, Sir Godwyn would never have us count this. This is mere practice."

"Well, our horses are outside."

"So are our soldiers. They can't see us playing about."

"They can't see us be human? Don't be ridiculous. We've danced with them, sang with them, celebrated with them, and shared our sorrows. You used to play cards and dice, this is no different." She could tell from the way he set his jaw she wasn't convincing him. "Besides, if you don't do this with me, I will keep throwing the ball at you the rest of the night."

"Fine," he got to his feet. "Let's finish this fast." He followed Nabooru out into the open air. Dessi had brought Storm, saddled and ready in front of the tent.

"You betrayed me, too?" Gan muttered as he took the reins from her.

"Don't think of it like that, Gan," Desquesza moved aside giving him room to mount his steed. "We're all just looking out for you."

Nabooru untied Honeyhoof from the post and mounted her. The camp was not as open as Nabooru would have liked, but it would suffice. Some of those nearby already snuck curious glances at them, and whispered guesses about what was happening. "Shall we start the count again?"

"If we must," Gan replied.

Nabooru nudged Honeyhoof forward, angling away from Gan. She threw it to the side, an easy enough beginning. Best to start simple and get the blood flowing and the muscles to remember how to play the game.

"One," he said pulling the ball to him. He gave a gentle toss back to Nabooru.

"Two," she said. She didn't even need to change Honeyhoof's direction to get under the ball. That wasn't enough. The whole point of the game was to practice horsemanship and reflexes. And, as they got better with age, to demonstrate their skills. Now was time to show off.

She prodded her mount to move faster. Gan had not pushed Storm further than an ambling gait. Deliberately, she aimed just ahead of where Gan would be and threw.

"Sands take you," he muttered just loud enough for Nabs to hear. Storm came to his rescue, the horse remembered the game better than he, it seemed. The great destrier lurched forward, allowing Gan to grab the ball just before it dropped too low to catch. "Three." Again, he gave her a direct easy pitch.

Well, if that was how he wanted to play, she would have to make him work harder. "Four," she shouted as she caught it. Then without looking she threw the ball over her head high, toward Gan… roughly. But he would have to try for it.

"Nabs!" he cursed. Storm grunted. She heard heavy hooves and the clear thwip-thwap as the ball bounced. She looked over her shoulder to see Gan trying to get his hands on the ball, but he couldn't get a firm grip. Then it struck his thumb, rolled down, ricocheted off his boot and into the dirt it went.

"Only four?" Nabooru called. "You'd be running laps under the mid-day sun for that."

"There is no sun," Gan shouted back as he got off Storm and trod to pick up the ball. "I can't see in the dark, nor follow the ball when you throw wild."

"All I'm hearing is 'Oh no, Nabooru is better than me. Just like she is at everything.' Is that what you're trying to say there, Gan?"

Without another word, he remounted Storm and threw the ball at her as hard as he could. No, not at her. Over her head. So high she would never reach it. She grabbed tight to Honeyhoof's reins and pulled her head high. "Jump!" She ordered, though the mount had never before played the game and saw no obstacle to avoid. "Jump!"

Honeyhoof gave a high angry whinny, but she hopped. Not high, but just enough for Nabs' fingertips to scrape the ball and bat it down into her lap. Honeyhoof sputtered as she landed, Nabooru gave her a loving pat and scratch on her neck. "One!" She held up a finger to Gan and the growing crowd. "You'll have to try better than that!" Some of the watchers cheered, while others gave encouraging shouts.

"You got her, my king!" One loud voice bellowed.

Yes, keep going.

Ganondorf heard them. And as she looked back at her oldest friend, she could see it in the way he sat atop his horse. The way torchlight flickered across his eyes as he followed her movement. If there was one thing she knew about Gan, that had been true since they were children, it was that he hated to lose. She threw the ball behind him, and before the ball left her arm, he was already pulling Storm's reins to back up. "Two!" He bellowed.

"Three!" She called after she caught one ball that nearly fell into a crowd.

"Four!" Gan laughed after he needed to knock the ball with his elbow first before he could get his hands on it.

"Five!"

"Six!"

"Seven! You trying to take off my head?"

"Sounds fair, you threw it at mine. Eight!"

"The difference is – Nine! – if I mess up your face no one will notice!"

"Just throw the ball, Nabs!"

Each throw pushed them a little harder. For one she stood on Honeyhoof's back circling her arms wide for balance. Another saw Gan tumble off Storm, grabbing the ball midair. He landed hard on his stomach, but the ball never touched the ground. "Twenty!" He roared. And how loud the crowd cheered! He brushed off some of the mud and grass that stuck to his clothes, got back on Storm and continued the game.

They must have played for an hour before Gan threw the ball so high Nabs lost it in the dark. She only found it again when she heard a thunk as it smacked into a tent five paces away, and fell to the ground.

"Seventy-four and out!" Nabs called, as one of the soldiers found the ball and tossed it to her. A mix of cheers and jeers met the announcement. Gan with a wide smile spread over his face rode up to her. Storm sputtered and breathed deep, as did Honeyhoof. Those two at least would be grateful the game ended.

"What brought this on?" Gan asked once he stopped and got off Storm. He handed the reins to one of the stablehands when they came running to care for their horses.

"You needed it," Nabooru shrugged as she passed Honeyhoof off as well. "And so did I, I reckon."

"Hmm," he plucked the ball from Nabooru's hands. Looked down at it, then to the crowd that still surrounded them. Now pressing closer as they realized the game was done. He marched toward them, his arms raised high in victory, making the cheers grow all the louder. Once they settled, Gan found the smallest of the crowd, a little Gerudo girl, no older than six if Nabs had to guess. Kneeling before her, the king handed the child the ball.

Even in the dark, Nabs could see how awestruck the child was. What was she? One of the hundred children that followed the army. Camp dwellers and servant's aids. There was no adult standing beside her. Perhaps her mother was somewhere warm, or did what family she had did not make it past the Lizalfos' raid on the camp? No way of knowing. But for the next few days, among the camp-children she would be a queen. Gan whispered something to the girl, ruffled her hair, and then stood and returned to Nabs.

"You know, that was my ball."

"I'll get you another one. Thank you for this."

She hugged him, before she led away from the gathered crowd. Not stopping until certain no one could hear them. "You going to tell me what you've been stuck on all these weeks?"

He sighed, but he didn't pull away from her. "There's nothing to tell Nabs. The same thing as always, over and over. I've made a mistake. Every decision I make these days I keep thinking about it. Second guessing myself. What if my plan hasn't yet failed? What if I'm laying the groundwork for hundreds of years of our people living in chains? Lifetimes spent under the boots of Hylians, all because of me. And the dreams, Nabs, the dreams. Every night without fail."

"Gan, you can't wallow in that. You can't second guess yourself. We run an army, you run a kingdom. If you get stuck looking back, you'll never see what's coming ahead."

"I know- I know that. But that doesn't make it easier." He sighed and looked up to the sky. "Nabooru, what do you think this peace will be like?"

"I don't understand."

"I gave you a promise all those months ago, if my plan didn't work, I would do my best to honor our treaty with Hyrule. I would put all these schemes behind us, and we would live under royal family in peace. Well? Explain it to me, what do you think it will be like? What world do you see?"

"Gan, I don't know. I don't see whole worlds like you. All I have is what's in front of me. What makes sense, and then I do the best I can from there."

"Try anyway, for me."

Nabooru shut her eyes, trying to think of a world without wars. She had fought them since she was a child. How young had she been when she and Gan first rode into battle? Was there even a thing as a world without war? No. No, there would always be some struggle. If she tried to tell him about some paradise he'd never believe her. "It won't be easy. We will have to listen to that useless king and his brat of a daughter. But we will keep strong, we will bring water to our people. I don't know much about how long it will take to build that aqueduct you're so hot on."

"I explained it to you."

"You droned on about rocks and slopes and water transfer. Why would you think I would remember that nonsense?"

"Because I value your opinion. Because I plan all my campaigns and battles with you, because I know how clever you are."

"Well, not about rocks. Doesn't matter. However long you think it will take, it'll take longer. But we will get it done. Together. There will be troubles, aye. Not every Gerudo will choose to live peaceful with the Hylians. And not all those snooty Hylians will accept us either. But we'll get through that, too. And once we're old and tired, and we've beaten every trouble into the sand, we'll leave it for the young to deal with. And if we've taught them right, when new troubles come running they'll face them down almost as good as us. But whatever happens, we'll be together, knowing we tried. Knowing we made the best world for them." That was it. The best she could hope for. It sounded simple even as she said it, naïve even. But naïve didn't mean wrong. Perhaps that's what making a better world meant, at the end of it. Being foolish enough to think you can, and strong enough to try.

Gan sighed. "I just… I can't see it."

There were no other words Nabooru could think to say. They both stared out at the stars. The world was so big. Too big for anyone to ever see. Even someone as clever as Gan. But she would help him, whatever came. And maybe that world of her dreams would become real someday.

Three days later messengers arrived. The army had stopped for the day, when scouts signaled the riders approaching were to be let into the camps. As soon as word spread they carried word from life outside crowds gathered around them. Tents were only half constructed, and the defensive wagons had not yet circled into place. But still people crowded aroudn teh riders, and Nabooru was no different.

"Swellala of the Sand-Snakes," one of the message-bearers called.

"That's for me!" A big vai with gold rings on her arms waving and pushing her way to the front of the crowd to receive a package.

"Tomurda no other name given," said another, this time handing out a small note.

"What's this?" Tomurda asked, as she took it. "I can't read this."

"Someone gave us a verbal message," the messenger said as he pulled another note from his bag. "Once we finished handing the rest of them out we'll tell you. Jocasta?"

"Commander Nabooru daughter of Matron Bulira?"

"Give it here," she moved to the front, her people knew to get out of her way rather than making her push through. The messenger gave her a parcel and a letter. In his cramped precise script, she had seen so much over the last few months it read Sir Jora Penrest in Hylian.

Nabooru felt her pulse quicken, and her face grow warm. All the problems of leading an army, and all the guilt at secretly betraying his trust drifted away. She wanted to tear it open right there before everyone, but she was still a commander. Playing with Gan may seem endearing at first, but if she made a habit of gushing like a love-struck halfwit? That would not do, how could her army respect her if she showed such weakness? She would remain Commander Nabooru Bright-Flame, Right Hand of the King and fiercest vai under the sun. At least until she was alone, then she could be Nabs again.

She pulled away from the crowd. The servants had not yet set the tent for her and her captains, so she tucked herself safe between two wagons and broke the seal. She unfolded the note and tried to ignore the way her heart pounded.

Nabooru, my love,

Simply reading that made her smile spread so wide it hurt, and her stomach churn in excitement. It was ridiculous, he had told her he loved her a hundred times, and yet every time felt as wonderful as the first.

It has been far too long since I got to see your smile and hold you in my arms. Every day I miss you more than the last. I read your last letter a dozen times or more, every detail you send me from the front is a relief. I feel like a knight's wife, forced to sit at home and wait while my loved one is out saving the kingdom. I wish I could be beside you now. It is painful when duty keeps us from those we are meant to be with. As a token of my affection, I sent a little gift I hope you like it.

There are two pieces of information I wish to tell you. The first is good, I think. His majesty appointed me the personal protector of the princess, replacing Lady Impa. I don't know the details of her dismissal, but whatever happened the king was furious. I know you did not think highly of her, but I counted her ladyship among the most dutiful people at court. While this is undoubtedly a position of the highest honor, I find myself spread thin. Between the councils, dealing with the guilds and banks, and trying to scrounge up money for the king's various programs I don't know how I will find time to also look after the princess. Which is not helped by the fact her royal highness definitely did not wish her guardian to be replaced. It has been three days and she has hardly spoken to me beyond sharp words of command.

If you have any idea how to gain the confidence with a girl of eleven years, please my love, tell me.

Poor man. Nabooru only knew the princess from her outburst the day of the signing, and how Gan outplayed her a few days later. But all regarded her as a stubborn and willful child, with a reputation for cleverness beyond her years. Even Gan seemed impressed with her after they shared in the war council. He even blamed her for masterminding the loss of those ridiculous prophecies he put too much faith in. Nabooru would try to help Jora. Though in truth, when a spiteful young vai wishes to hate there was very little that could change that. Nabooru knew that well, she still hated the two that tormented her childhood.

The second piece of news I have is more grim, I fear. It is about your mother. I do not wish to alarm you, she is not sick as far as I can tell. But I also can't say she is healthy. I worry for her. She walks weak and unsteady as if she does not sleep at night. Her mind wanders when I try to speak with her. Once, when we were talking together, I noticed she had drifted from the conversation. I touched her on the arm to see if she was well and she screamed. It is like she is living in fear of something dreadful happening at all times of day. It worries me, not just because she is your mother, but she has always been kind and helpful. Seeing the honored matron act so erratically has me worried for her. I fear that with my new duties I may not have the time to check up with her as often as I wish. Has this ever happened before? Is there anything I can do? Should I speak to the castle's apothecary on her behalf?

I am sorry to end my message on such a dour note. I do not wish to trouble you, war is trouble enough. But I felt you must know.

I miss you and I love you. Give my best regards to your king, and all your sisters.

Sir Jora Penrest, your devoted Knight of Foxes

Nabooru read the last paragraph three times. Her hands trembled, she clutched the paper tight, near crumpling it in her grasp. She dropped his gift and ran. Not stopping until she reached the horse pens. She found Honeyhoof, and did not bother saddling her before they raced alone across the fields of Hyrule.

"Out of my way," she snapped at those sitting on watch when she reached the mainguard, as they tried to stop her from entering the camp. "You know who I am."

"Yes, Commander," they said as they opened the wooden gate. She did not stop until she reached Gan's tent, where she leaped off her horse and burst inside.

"Gan!" she shouted as she entered, but he was not there. She stormed out of the tent and grabbed the nearest passerby. "Where is the king?"

The fearful servant looked as though he'd faint. "Don't- don't hurt me!"

"I won't, provided you tell me where is Gan!"

"Gan?"

"Ganondorf, you halfwit. Where is he?"

"He took up watch for the night." He pointed toward the gate opposite the one she entered.

Now he decided to perform his duties as king? Now?

Nabooru let go of the coward and ran the rest of the way through the camp. She found him stretched out by a fire, laughing with a few of his soldiers. She would've been happy to see him in good spirits, were she not furious.

"Nabs?" He stood up once he noticed her and smiled. "You don't need to ride all the way here to fuss over me. I'm fine."

She shoved the letter into his hands. "Read this."

Gan held the letter to the light. His eyebrows went high, and he glanced back to her. "You certain you wish me to read this? It seems personal."

"The end. Read to the end."

He went back to the letter. "Oh," he said when he finished.

"It's them."

"You can't know that."

"It's them."

Gan looked back to the letter and nodded. "I apologize my sisters," he nodded to those others given watch duty that night. "I am needed elsewhere." Together they returned to his tent. He ordered all the servants to leave and step away, then went to his chest and retrieved the jar of sand and the two talismans tucked within.

He poured the sand over the ground, spreading it into the strange pattern with his finger. Then he placed the two emblems in the center. "Mothers, I offer you the sand from your door and look upon your emblems. I request your presence."

Nabooru held her breath. Her hand gripping at the pommel of her sword. Only then realizing she forgot her shield. That could prove a problem, but with Gan at her side perhaps she could make due without it. Her entire body tensed, waiting to hear their horrid voices.

But the voices did not come. The wind did not howl. The witches did not appear.

"Mothers," Gan tried again. "I offer you the sand from your door. I look upon your emblems. I beg an audience with you."

Nothing.

"Where are they?" Nabooru demanded.

"They don't wish to be summoned," Gan set his jaw before he tried to scoop as much of the sand as he could get back into the bottle.

"What are they doing to my mother?"

"I don't know."

"We need to find out."

"Of course, just give me a moment to think."

"I'm going."

"Nabs," he looked up from his work. "I need you - No, I'm sorry. I'm being selfish. Bulira needs you more. In the morning-"

"I am leaving tonight."

This time he was the one that embraced her. They held tight to each other, hoping to find courage and strength together. As they had tried many times as children. But they were not children anymore, Nabs would not cower and hide from the hags' torment. Never again.

"Tonight then. I'll take care of things here. Get some supplies and go. I will contact you when I can. If there's anything those two are doing to Bulira-"

"I'll kill them."