Chapter Text
Though the blazing desert sun beat down from above, it still felt nice and cool all around Gerudo Town. Rezek hadn’t paid it much mind, but the channels of fresh underground water springing up from the huge rock formation in the center were running all along the top ridges of the buildings. They flowed like a spider’s web through the entire capital before depositing themselves into a rocky drainage grate that led back to the hidden aquifer. It was an architectural marvel that Rezek couldn’t help but float closer to the top of the buildings to examine. On closer look, it could feel the cool splash of mist from whenever the water fell down a level - forming a sort of pocket oasis right in the heart of the desert. Rezek traced the artificial river with its finger until it came to a patch of green that it wouldn’t have noticed without an aerial view. There seemed to be a little garden growing over there, and its interest was piqued. With the dainty tips of its feet it waltzed across to this greenery and lowered itself back down to the street level.
Inside this little alcove of an alley was a dirt patch teeming with all sorts of fruits and vegetables not normally found in the Gerudo Desert - along with a few that did. Aside from the standard patches of Hydromelons and Voltfruits, there were also Highlands Wildberries, Hateno Tomatoes, Hearty Radishes, and other fruits and veggies Rezek hadn’t seen before. The only remnant of what the lot was before this transformation was a few small stacks of assorted trash around the sides and corners that hadn’t been picked up yet. It was so impressed, it didn’t notice a Gerudo standing right behind it with a half-eaten voltfruit in her hand.
“Oy, you supposed to be here, va’orre?” she said with her mouth full, nonchalantly taking another bite, “Never seen one of your kind brave enough to infiltrate our city like this…”
Rezek whipped around to see her face, looking somewhere around the young adult range, unenthused with shifty eyes. She leaned lazily against the narrow corridor leading to the garden, but her hand was firmly placed on her sheathed scimitar.
“Riju granted me permission,” it said nervously, a little scared of what she might try to do, “Were you not at the meeting today? Or even heard about it?”
The mysterious Gerudo raised a brow. It knew Hylian, at least - and the Chieftain’s name. But she couldn’t be so careless being on the very outskirts of Gerudo Town. Before passing judgment, however, the woman heard the sounds of little feet running behind her.
“Caly! You gotta hear this! They had a va’wizzy at the palace and I saw it flying over here and-”
A small Gerudo child, no older than six or seven came bounding into the garden, stopped mid-step, and stood there slack-jawed at the floating Rezek.
“Oy, Caly! That’s the va’wizzy! You should’ve been there, it looked so cool standing in front of the council! Did you know we got va’owwe on our side now!”
Rezek couldn’t understand her language, but it could be assumed she was referring to it. Normally it would’ve brushed it off, but there was something endearing about “va’wizzy” causing it to chuckle. And judging by her absolute enthusiasm, her words must be quite embarrassing for this Caly. Rezek looked at her with a sarcastic biting of the tongue and she fiercely pinched her nose and looked away - blushing as red as a sunburn.
“Ske’me na, vaba’oten” she muttered under her breath, roughly translating as ‘smite me now, grandmother in heaven’, as she threw the remains of her fruit against the wall with a splat, “Well, that’s egg on my face. sh*tty first impressions aside, vasaaq . This is our little community garden. Sorry for being so on-edge, I guess. Name’s Calyban. Co-owner of the Gerudo Community Garden we have growing here.”
Someone put their foot in their mouth before Rezek did? For once it was on the other side of an embarrassing exchange? It must be dreaming.
“Rezek,” it said, offering to shake her hand, relishing every second of this moment, which she begrudgingly obliged, “can’t say I expected much of a warm welcome coming here…”
Calyban groaned and turned even redder.
“Tch, can you blame us? Have you seen the voe that linger outside? Makes me feel antsy being this close to the main wall.”
Rezek lightened up as it bobbed back and forth, not necessarily disagreeing. Although it was brought within the city late at night, the Hylian men that waited outside hardly looked like the trustworthy type. The ones that were awake gave both Rezek and Link a murderous glare as the guards let them in without as much as a nod from Riju. Specifically, the one that was pleading with the night guards looked ready to unsheathe his sword when Rezek lazily floated in clinging to Mar’ska. It understood Riju’s words from yesterday at a much more personal level now.
“Heh, well good for you that I’m not a voe,” it said, bringing some confusion to Calyban’s face before shaking it off, “So who is the other owner of this? It’s an impressive garden.”
Calyban chuckled, ready to judge this irritating monster on its response alone.
“Why, none other than our little Dalia!” she said, pointing to the small child.
Immediately Rezek perked up and turned to Dalia who proudly put her hands on her hips and stuck her chin out.
“Yes! I started this all by myself!” she said with a victorious hum in her voice, “Mama never wanted me eating her in…in-ven-toh-ree…so I had to grow my own fruit! That one voe that’s always allowed in town helped me when my plants kept dying, too - even though I’m not supposed to look at him yet…”
That had to be Link. Was there anyone he didn’t help out around here? Rezek brought its feet onto the ground so it could be just a little more level with Dalia, but made sure not to squat down. It noticed young ones of all species hated being patronized - height included.
“May I try a sample?” it said, leaning towards one of the wildberry bushes. She jumped up and down excitedly.
“Yes, yes, of course! Just spit out the seeds and plant them over there! Caly usually makes people pay, but she’ll give you this one for free. It’d be rude if we didn’t since the va’wizzy’s our guest! Isn’t that right, Caly?”
The face on Rezek as it looked at her with absolute glee made Calyban wish to walk into the desert and never return. And Dalia’s gleaming expectant smile didn’t help much, either. Now pinching her forehead, Calyban plucked off a couple of wildberries and dropped them into Rezek’s hand.
“Yes…free of charge…” she said strained through her teeth, Rezek doing its back to hold back its usual high-pitched giggling. It popped the berries into its mouth and immediately was blasted with a gush of sweet and sour flavor. It leaned back in delight as it chewed, much to Dalia’s satisfaction. A napkin was handed over to it and it subtly spit most of the large inedible seeds into the cloth - which was immediately brought over to several pots pre-filled with dirt and held under the free-flowing water for a few seconds. Licking the sticky red juice off its teeth and mouth, Rezek nodded.
“These are amazing, how long have you been doing this?” it asked, almost wanting to try the rest of the stock if it had rupees to spare.
“Almost a year!” she said, on top of the world, “Caly’s been helping for about as long. I do all the growing and she does the man…man-nidge-m-...the grown-up stuff!”
“I got roped into it, somehow,” Calyban said with a low chuckle, “Dalia’s not even my own vehvi , but it’s been a fun little project for us. Doesn’t help I’m a bit of a nut for fruit…”
“Could you tell me your name, va’wizzy? Mama always tells me to get better with names, but I forgot again…oy…”
“Rezek!” it said, offering her a firm handshake. This was another bit it had picked up on through raising Ashen. Kids loved the stress-free lack of responsibilities, but hated being reminded that they’re small and have few privileges and influence as a result of that. Again, don’t talk down to them, but don’t saddle them with expectations. Dalia was shocked a bit, at how much an adult was taking her seriously. Usually the mention of her being the owner was met with roaring laughter and hand-waving, but the entire time this complete stranger, a monster no less, was respecting her and being cordial the entire time. She wasn’t used to this and stared at the hand she just shook with.
“Rezek…” she said, struggling just a little bit with the pronunciation, “Could you stay a bit longer? Mama would normally get mad at me for talking with someone that’s not a vai…but you said you’re not a voe, either! I’m also told not to go near va’orre, but Riju herself told us you were a nice one! That means we can play and I won’t get in trouble!”
Rezek felt such a surge of emotions it almost fell to its knees and cried right there. It was so easy. The fact that a child so young could understand so quickly pulled it right out of the pit it had been dragged in earlier. But also that brought with it the sting of knowing that for the rest of the unchanging Gerudo, the unwillingness to change was an active choice. Still, it had to hold that back for this random child’s sake, and it nodded - the look of sheer happiness on Dalia’s face bringing it right back.
The next hour or so Rezek spent playing along with an increasingly growing number of Gerudo children. At first it was just Dalia running around as Rezek used its wind to blow scattered leaves that fell off the garden plants into the air as she tried to catch them. The giggles that carried across the alleys brought enough of Dalia’s friends and acquaintances that Rezek had to actually think of some rules for this ‘game’ that they all wanted a part of now. Just when it was getting a little too overwhelmed by the sheer energy of these young vai, Link, Riju, and Buliara finally found it after searching the whole northside. Mar’ska was noticeably absent, but according to the rest she had some business to take care of with the Buzzards outside the walls. Riju gave Rezek a much needed break since nearly every young vai in the capital would die for the chance to play with the Chieftain. But as she ran around with other girls only 5-7 years younger than her, she just felt like Riju. Link tried his best to stay out of sight, knowing the wrath that some Gerudo mothers could have despite his special treatment, and mostly picked out several choice fruits and veggies before paying Calyban back extra despite her obligatory protests. At one point she caught Rezek just after it had taken another break from working in tandem with Riju to make all the kids happy and chucked, her arms crossed and watching from afar.
“Heh. What makes you so good with vehvi, huh?”
Rezek gleamed a warm but mischievous smile Calyban would never forget.
“Do you think monsters can’t have young ones waiting for them back home?”
She quickly shut up, the guilt from earlier swelling up even more, and she went back to silently munching on another fruit.
…
Mar’ska peeked around the daily market that the Buzzards set up outside Gerudo Town, looking for someone from her own family. The small stalls and shops that lined the giant wall were almost as large and bustling as the markets inside - and sometimes with a little more variety. While the markets of the Gerudo were consistent and reliable, the Buzzards stock was usually whatever they could get their hands on recently. The clan got by on bartering, scavenging, and top-notch escort services through the dangerous desert. Even around mid-day, the ‘Hired Hands’ stall had an impressive line of representatives from the Merchant’s Guild trying to get goods safely to and from Gerudo Town. Of course, they also earned quite a pretty rupee on the hopeless and entitled voe that staked just outside the city vying to enter - more than happy to gradually drain their wallets selling them marked up food and water until they gave up with their tail between their legs.
After a little bit of searching, she finally found who she was looking for: her aunt Jun’sta at her usual stand. Most of her inventory were wild herbs that only grew in select regions of Gerudo Desert and meat from whatever they could catch. But what people really came to her family’s stalls for were the salts she collected in the deep southern parts of the desert - where the barren basins lied that no man or beast wanted to venture deep into for long. Only the Buzzards knew the technique to turn that particular salt edible - and they weren’t the most keen on sharing that secret.
“Heya, Jun!” Mar’ska said, waving her down and pushing through the outside crowd to get closer, “Where’s And’sha? She out?”
Jun’sta nodded, pulling down her sand mask to talk clearer to her niece. Her stall had already seen a majority of the action in the morning - most everything but a few bundles of saffinas and desert pine nuts were gone before the sun made its way up the middle.
“Mmhmm, out hunting with some others - going with the Capshaw’s this time. She keeps begging to take over the stall, but these old bones can’t keep up with the youth like they used to.”
That brought a twang of pain in Mar’ska’s heart, thinking of her own old man, but had to shake it off for her own good. After some more small talk she leaned in closer and double checked for eavesdroppers.
“How’s Cross and Kehwees doing?” she whispered.
Jun’sta chuckled, shrugging an ambivalent shrug.
“Fittin’ right in, despite the fact that we don’t understand a word they say! They seem antsy, Cross especially. You got a plan for ‘em?”
“Mmhmm. We’re thinking of bringing them to that outpost tomorrow and then Link will take them to Akkala. Could you pass that along to pa?”
“Wha- Akkala? Mar’ska, dear, that’s on the other side of Hyrule! At least a week’s journey! Not even minding the amount of food those Gib-... strangers eat. Tell me you got some sort of plan…”
“Heh, Link’s got some weird…contraption, he says. Can transport anyone right to his own nest in Akkala faster than a snap.”
With a scoff, Jun’sta returned to writing - tallying up the day’s profit.
“Well I’ll believe it when I see it. But I’ll relay the message across. Gotta say I’ll miss those weird bug-things. Very curious, they are. And’sha tried to get er….Kehwest? Kehwees? She tried to get it to speak Hylian, but no dice. Their mouths are too different from ours.”
“Heh. You know, the hive is right below us. You could always just give them a visit anytime,” Mar’ska said to a lukewarm reaction.
“Ehhhhh they still unnerve me a bit too much. At least a lot of ‘em in one place. I’d prefer observing from a distance. I’m not a fan of bugs when they’re small , let alone as tall as us!”
Mar’ska laughed, but that also brought up a very relevant topic that was fresh in her mind from being around Rezek. She glanced around several places and bit her lip nervously at seeing her worries right in front of her.
“By the way…we really oughtta have a conversation with everyone else about… that …”
She pointed to one of the Buzzard stalls that sold various monster parts. A good chunk of it was Molduga meat and guts, but there was still a Bokoblin horn here, a Lizalfos tail there, enough to turn her stomach inside out.
“I don’t know why we’re still doing it after all that happened with Cross…Molduga, maybe - given all the trouble they cause on the road. But the rest? After we know it’s happening everywhere?”
Jun’sta pulled at her shawl and winced, fully aware of the problem as well. She thanked her lucky stars that she never sold monster parts, or she’d feel much more conflicted about it.
“We’re hard to change, Mar’ska. You know that better than anyone. If you wanted that problem solved, you could fix it right now if you wanted to. You’re the only one that could.”
Mar’ska turned away and stared at the direction of her home, a deep scowl carving into her face. She knew this would come up, even with family she thought were polite enough not to.
“So why can’t he do it?” she said indignantly.
“You know why…”
…
Back at his family’s Buzzard Nest, Dar’num sat in the underground hideout with Cross and Kehwees - on Gibdo care duty after Mar’ska left the night prior with the Chieftain and the rest. The two Gibdo had been in this specific family’s base a few times, but never stayed the night. Cross was still fidgety and nervous, keir arm still in the process of growing back, while Kehwees was much more carefree and excited. Wei flew erratically around the small space wei could, buzzing to Cross about how excited wei was to finally see what the greater world was like. Dar’num, however, was given ample time to stew in all that had just happened. He knew exactly what Mar’ska was going to do now, it made too much sense. And there was nothing he could do about it. Not yet, at least.
“Grah, what do you reckon I do with a rebellious daughter like her?” he said to Cross, only talking to kei to have something to talk to. The Gibdo turned its head lazily sideways and clicked keir mandibles. Kei wasn’t sure what he was saying, or if he was even talking directly to kei or just using kei as someone that would listen. But Cross listened nonetheless.
“Like, I get it, she don’t wanna lose her prime years stuck as the Grand Nest Mother. But it’s gotta be someone! For her whole life she got the privileges that came with being the daughter of a Nest Parent, but now suddenly she doesn’t wanna repay her people in turn? It’s not right.”
Some Buzzards from a different family slid down from the entrance. Only there to deliver some news, but the whole time their eyes wandered towards Dar’num - ignoring the Gibdo that were even closer. He sighed heavily after they left as soon as they came.
“I’ve heard people talk…and it’s not pretty. Only 2 years into my 20-year tenure and they’re already tellin’ me that I’m too old to be the Grand Nest Father. Calling me the ‘Nest Grandfather’ instead. They’re blowing hot wind, I could easily run circles around them, but the problem is that everyone is starting to believe it. They say it's all jokes and fun, but they’re saying it too often. Joke about it enough and the joke stops bein’ so. And what good is a clan that don’t trust their leader?”
His thumb caressed the special crest embroidered on his robes - a patch of a golden buzzard lying in a nest.
“We’re spread thin enough as it is. The boom of Kara Kara’s helping, but I know that the longer this goes on the less faith everyone will have. They’ll think they can do my job better. It may cause a split nest. Wouldn’t be the first time, but we know what happens when the Buzzards split.”
Again, the Gibdo didn’t understand a single word, but that wasn’t why Dar’num was talking. Being scattered as they were, many Buzzard traditions and stories were handed down orally - knowing anything written isn’t bound to last. But every so often a particular event would happen that required engraving, required tangible evidence. The Great Buzzard Schism and subsequent Reunification being one of them. Even today the exact reason for the split wasn’t known, as it was so long ago, but no Buzzard cared for specifics. Any “justification” for the split would likely be one littered with biases and overembellishment if it survived this long. Their dirty history was not worth celebrating, only cataloged so those that followed their faint footsteps in the sand would not repeat their mistakes. And this schism was tragically bloody, only a few hundred years fresh. Compared to how long the Buzzards have been around, the scars could still be felt.
“We survived the Great Calamity, whatever one came before that. Goddess damn it, apparently we’ve been around for as long as that creepy man Ganondorf! We survived it all! And we might be done in by our own infighting?!”
Nervously he stroked his graying beard and rubbed his nearly bald head.
“Grah…seems fitting enough for Hylians. But I’d rather that not happen while I still got breath left in me. Mar’ska needs to take my place, for the good of the clan. But I…I want this to be on her own terms. Because the more stress this job causes, the greater the chance she’ll get caught with her shawl over her face. I need to hold on for her sake, but the more she waits the more that becomes a promise I just can’t keep.”
His eyes then wandered to various assorted items laying across the large sandy atrium: cutlery, bowls, cups, lanterns - all carved from various monster bones. What he normally never paid mind to suddenly stuck in his eyes.
“And then there’s this whole deal with the…selling your own kin’s parts. It’s not right, but could you imagine if I tried to stop it? Someone who likely won’t live to see the harvest they sow - cutting off a prime source of our income? Why, they’d drag me out of the desert tied to a wild sand seal…”
Dar’num let out a morbid laugh. Truly, this was some sort of punishment.
“But Mar’ska could…all the problems she sees in the Buzzards, she could fix them. I know she could. Everyone sees me as rigid and stubborn, but that’s only ‘cause I’ve never had to make that big of a decision till now! But her…she’s different. My dear Mar’ska could move mountains, change hearts, pull us away from this inevitable disaster single-handedly.
He hung his head so low that Cross and Kehwees leaned in closer, wondering why this Hylian looked so distraught. Fiddling with his brow he threw his palm out and away, frustrated beyond measure.
“So why don’t she see that?”
…
In making a casual walk around the city, Ganondorf found his way to the southeastern wall of Gerudo Town - the exact opposite of where Rezek and the rest were. It was mainly a residential district, housing a good chunk of the population with little to do activity-wise. Barta informed him of that before he headed down the sandy streets, but he waved her off. He wanted to see everything his old hometown had to offer. As he passed by the houses, under Barta’s careful watch, he couldn’t help but eye the craftsmanship of the sandstone carvings of the houses. There was something he found oddly poetic about the state of his homeland, how all that survived was the inner circle of the capital. Originally reserved for the more wealthy, the large wall carved out of the giant mesa that housed the central oasis was now home to every Gerudo. Much was lost, but everything felt closer now. It made the sting hurt just a little bit less.
“It is all so much more connected…” he said quietly to Barta, “the people, the land, the houses. It’s smaller, but it feels more like home than I could imagine.”
“Tch, that’s because we have to,” she said with a scoff, “Not like the Hyrule Kingdom is going to help us with anything anymore…”
A loud hearty laugh came from Ganondorf’s belly.
“Hah! Well said! Better get used to that because I don’t see that changing even after The Calamity is defeated.”
A loud grumble came from Barta. Already she was sick of this voe’s pessimism, and being stuck with him for the rest of the day felt more like a punishment than an assignment.
“You’re acting like all the voe that caused the tension in the first place haven’t died out by now,” she snapped back, arguing on principle, “From what I’ve heard, you were stuck in some magical prison until now. What do you really know about us and them, huh?”
A side-glare was sent Barta’s way that turned her blood to ice. The voe’s eyes held with them far too much for her to handle, and the spear in her hands trembled.
“I know that the Hylians are as immutable as their goddess,” he said coldly, “The voe may have died out, but their ideas are unkillable. When this land is safe enough for the ancestors of those old nobles to return…you will see first-hand why I tried my hardest to wipe them out many times.”
Ganondorf turned back around and carried on as if nothing had happened. Barta didn’t talk much after that.
Near the southeastern entrance, behind the very last few rows of houses, Ganondorf came across something he never expected: a small dusty statue of Hylia and an old Gerudo vai sitting next to it. It was a standard shrine that he had come to know all too well: a sort of rounded oval depiction of the goddess with small wings cut out of the stone. Her face was simplistic, only consisting of chiseled eyes and a smile. The old Gerudo was brushing off some sand with a wet rag, her graying red hair stacked like a beehive. When the two’s eyes met, they simultaneously raised an eyebrow.
“A disgraced king of old has found his way back home. We should be so honored,” she said with a sarcastic drawl. Ganondorf smirked, the sun’s ray perfectly catching a sliver of his teeth.
“Heh. That’s rich - coming from an old crone that still clings onto that wretched goddess. Tell me, how much of our world has moved on from her? And why do you still linger?” he said, pointing his chin over to the statue. The Gerudo known as Muava looked at it too and tutted.
“I could ask the same about you. According to history, you should’ve been laid to rest eons ago. Yet you linger. You refuse to move on.”
Her answer caught Ganondorf off-guard and he coughed into his fist.
“I have my reasons…” he growled, turning away fiercely.
“As have I. And unlike you I’m keen on sharing them,” she said, laying a wrinkled hand on Hylia’s shoulder with a small smile, “My mother was the caretaker of this old gal before The Great Calamity. A statue of Hylia in every major settlement - that was the old law of Hyrule Kingdom.”
Ganondorf’s blood began to boil. Of course. Even when his time was nothing but a ripple in an ocean, he could still feel the waves reaching the shore of today. When he was still a mortal, he never got to learn of what his ancestors used to worship. All traces of his roots had already been expunged - through stringent bureaucracy or force. It was, in many ways, his first lesson for how the outside world operated.
“But by the time I had grown up, I was the only one that still came here,” Mauva continued, “I don’t really blame them after what they had lived through. To many this statue is emblematic of the kingdom whose mistakes helped fell everyone else’s. But my mother stayed by Hylia’s side. Once my exploring days were over and I returned home, she was gone, and I decided to stay by Hylia’s side too.”
The look she was given was one of pity, that she didn’t particularly appreciate. Why would a voe like him feel sorry for her? The more he stared, the greater her own irritation swelled.
“You could leave it,” he said, “Let it slowly erode away until it is indistinguishable from a lump of rock. Let the last remains of the Hylian empire wash away with the rainy season…”
With an annoyed frown Muava grumbled back and sat up straighter.
“No, I’ve grown quite fond of ol’ Hylia here,” she said, wrapping her arm around the statue’s neck, “She’s consistent, unlike the rest of these lands.”
A short exhale of the nostrils came from Ganondorf. The smallest of laughs. Now she felt patronized on top of it all. The nerve of him.
“Do you believe in Hylia? Truly believe she’ll protect you? You, an outsider to her perfect little kingdom?” he asked, a bit of sting in his voice, but surprisingly genuine. It was a question she was used to answering, and one she would give the same answer a thousand times from the depth of her heart.
“I’d prefer to believe that, yes. It’s comforting to believe you have someone watching over you. If she truly rules over these lands, then she should have an obligation to protect us all - not just the Hylians.”
Ganondorf took no pleasure in bringing up old scars, but this one cut a little too deep.
“So where was Hylia when the man-made famine came?” he said, staring dead in the statue’s eyes rather than hers, “Where was Hylia when all that sat in the larders were specks of grain and dead bugs? Where was Hylia when we were penned inside this desert of death - forbidden from stepping on a single blade of green grass? Where was Hylia when the Hylians tore my kingdom apart in the name of propping up their own?!”
A chill ran up Muava’s and Barta’s spines. Conniving as he was, Ganondorf’s words had too much emotion in them to be mere fabrication.
"I'll tell you exactly where she was - standing right behind them. With the same empty lifeless smile chiseled into her statues. A facade of politeness while she ravaged our people.”
Whether it was the truth or not, it was Ganondorf’s personal truth - one he held onto for years before his time in the Malice and years after. What was once his justification had become his obsession.
“Such bitterness, such scorn,” she said with unflinching eyes, “I cannot fault you for that. But what I can fault you for is holding onto it as you do - letting it control you. If you are who I think you are, then you have caused far more pain and suffering than she ever could.”
“If you knew the extent of what they did to us, in her name, you’d feel the same for them and that accursed statue,” he said with a deep scowl, refusing to look her in the eyes. She had struck a nerve, and knew deflection when she saw it.
“And maybe if you took a look at the Hyrule of today, you’d see that a land is more than their rules and traditions!” Muava snapped back, sending a flinch across Ganondorf’s face, “We Gerudo should know that better than anyone else! When I traveled out there you know what I saw? I saw people just as changed and damaged as us. Wonderful vai and voe, ready to move on from our old ways to rebuild the second we’re given the chance. What I saw out there was so different from the stories of my mother, it might as well be a different land. And if people can change, why can’t gods?”
After a long period of silence, Ganondorf angrily threw his fists down and pouted.
“It is not so simple as that…” he said with an uncharacteristically quiet voice, shaking his head and mumbling. Why couldn’t he find the right words? Now, of all times?
A small smirk spread across Muava’s face.
“I think it is, but still you cling onto that past of yours. Why?”
As Ganondorf turned and walked away, his last words went unheard.
“The same reason you haven’t let go of her…it’s all I have left.”
…
Donovan couldn’t believe it.
Hours after he thought his guts would find themselves splayed across Harbinger’s room, a letter appeared in his lap with the courier of the hideout looking especially disgusted. Like usual, it had already been opened and read by the postmasters and the fact that he received it at all shows they found nothing suspicious. But unlike usual mail calls, this one was eagerly watched by around five or so other Yiga footsoldiers snooping their heads around the barracks holding in their snickering. News of his little stunt had already passed across every single Yiga ear in the east - and snickers followed him everywhere he walked that morning. When he nervously flipped the paper open, he realized exactly what had happened.
Gale had sent him back a cheesy sickly-sweet love letter of her own - written about ten times as worse as his. From the first sentence he could tell this wasn’t genuine, for after knowing Gale for a few years she’d rather slit her own throat then write the words “my dearest”. It physically hurt Donovan to read all the way through, making him wonder if she snuck in a little payback for forcing her to read something as embarrassing as this. But it sent the same message regardless: Gale was handing Donovan a means to skirt under the noses of the Yiga superiors on a silver platter. The more he read the more his heart pumped with excitement knowing this could very well be their way out. To think a stupid panicky decision he made to cover his own ass would lead them to an opportunity like this. He smiled under the mask. Yes, they’d have to keep this charade up. Write letters so disgustingly cute, so filthy in content, that any of the postmasters wouldn’t even want to open them - let alone scrutinize them for hidden messages. They’d need to somehow convince the rest of their squad of this little trick. But knowing how they knew them, the idea of Gale and Donovan getting together was so outlandish, so nonsensical, so illogical, that they would have to suspect it was for an ulterior motive. It all seemed too good to be true.
Just when he was about to stash the letter somewhere safe, to get a closer look away from prying eyes, the posse of Yiga watching from afar bounded up to him.
“Hu-hey! If it isn’t Lover Boy!” one of them shouted before giving Donovan such a fierce pat on the back it knocked the wind out. Word spreads fast in the Yiga Clan.
“How’d you of all people do it, Don? Somehow bag a girl like Gale?”
“Heh, yeah! She’s a gem alright, but nobody ever tried thanks to Wren.”
“He’s on Dead Man’s Duty now, looks like someone struck while the iron’s hot!”
“Still, apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. You remember what happened to the last guy that made a move on her?”
“Maybe she likes ‘em pathetic.”
“Ha! Lover Boy’s gonna get dragged around for sure!”
The whirlpool of heckling around him became unbearable and the twitch in his hands returned. The callous mention of Gale and Wren especially struck a nerve, but he had to play along. This would be the worst part, worse than actually writing back. The fact that he’d have to pretend he was one of them for how long twisted his stomach into knots. The one time he gets any amount of attention or recognition from his fellow Yiga and it was for this . If Wren hadn’t wholly convinced Donovan to defect from the moment he saw his true face for the first time, this would’ve been the tipping point for sure. He saw the Yiga Clan for what it was: a sham of an organization where to climb up the ranks required cruelty and stepping over those that are called family in the same breath. Those that were unwilling were kept at the bottom - unable to leave as the clan was still all they had. Never had freedom felt so close in his grasp yet so far away.
Wren, if you want to kill me after this, I understand, Donovan thought before swallowing his pride and regrettably laughing along. From the corner of his eyes he could see one of the Yiga hanging around the doorway to the barracks that hadn’t run up to him. It was Loti. And she did not look happy.
…
“Is Harbinger back yet? I can’t make heads or tails of these dang ruins without her!” Master Kohga shouted in near-complete darkness. The entrance to this impossibly deep cave was as small as a twinkling star in the sky. Kohga and his crew had a little outpost built out of lumber, beating back the smothering darkness with torches, but still these caves threatened to swallow them. Already they had attracted smaller monsters the likes they had never seen before - and surely more were to come. They had to shore up defenses, but their leader was too enthralled with the numerous stone ruins that they found themselves in the middle of. Zonai in design, unmistakably. His favorite hobby may be napping, but even he made visits to the Faron region: Banana Capital of Hyrule as they called it. There you could see a Zonai sculpture everywhere you turned your head. So why were they found this deep underground? Kohga had to know.
“She’s heading back now, Master,” one of his admins, Barn, said while kneeling on the ground, “Harbinger prefers to take the hot air bubble down, so it could be a while.”
He didn’t blame her, knowing how precarious their usual route up could be - displacing themselves higher and higher on rickety wooden platforms that spiraled around the hole. But his patience still waned. He hated waiting, it made him think . And the failure he saw only a glimpse of yesterday was not something he liked to think about.
“I fear that our little discovery down here is loosening our grasp on the rest of the clan above…” he said, his voice going from shrill and gravely to much deeper but still grating. It was like a growl. Barn jumped and bowed his head further.
“S-sir…the entire clan stays loyal to you!” he stammered, knowing how the Master could get when he was about to throw a temper tantrum, “This discovery has only cemented our place in Yiga superiority! With you as our undying leader! Morale has never been higher! Who would ever dream of going against the almighty Yiga Clan?!”
Kohga’s usually silly antics evaporated, standing up straight and staring off into the darkness. Even the footsoldiers that were hammering away at their makeshift fort stopped to stare.
“Loyalty…” he repeated, gritting his teeth with shaky hands, “that word has been dead to me for a long, long time.”
Kohga clenched a fist, sending a spike of rock out of the ground dangerously close to his lackeys.
“What good is an oath if it can be broken? What does respect gain that fear does not? What does forgiveness offer that vengeance does not serve?!”
His voice echoed across the ruins. The dead silence of the cold underground was all that answered him.
“I thought I was once immovable, unchanging, rigid. But even the invincible can still bleed. Vengeance is a universal language, but so is fear, as I have recently found out. You all respect me because you fear me. You all love me because you fear me. And you remain at my feet because you fear me. Who needs loyalty for that?!”
Underneath the spiky and intimidating mask, a single tear fell down his face.
“Loyalty can be abandoned…fear cannot.”
