Chapter 15
Prince of Shadow
Their next journey took them West, across the fields of Hyrule. Though the trek lasted more than two whole days, they enjoyed its serenity. Despite all the continuous walking, it was good to not worry yet about the trials to face them. Though such trials fast approached, those trials seemed miles and miles away as they walked, almost like a bad dream not capable of coming true.
At some point, they glimpsed Hyrule Castle town in the distance and paused to gaze at it. So much grander and vaster than that of the original, it looked entirely peaceful, blue skies sheltering it from above. Still, they knew all that could change in the twinkling of an eye. Stepping over a ridge, they departed with that peaceful vision in their memory.
Towards the late afternoon of the third day, towering cliffs loomed. Up they wound between the stony precipices until something else loomed into sight—the Gerudo Fortress. This was the place from whence Ganondorf, the oldest enemy of Hyrule, hailed. The place housing the race of all women, save a male born every hundred years or so. The home of thieves rumored to be skilled and ruthless swordswomen, though tales of the Hero told they were not nearly as heartless as Ganondorf himself; indeed, after proving himself in skill and stealth, the women made the first Link one of their own, a regular Gerudo.
If Link knew one thing held true since the ancient tales though, it was the Gerudo’s distrust of outsiders—especially men. Ganondorf had not treated the women well over time. At first, Ganondorf sought only a better life for his people. But this quest soon corrupted into an unhealthy lust for power. He’d abandoned them ever since, his search for the Triforce and absolute domination becoming his sole ambition.
So, as they approached the fortress, Link’s heart pounded; his mind remained void of any ideas of how to sneak past the thieves—if that’s what they were meant to do. Sneak where? And do what...?
Once they crept an uncomfortably close distance to the large stone fortresses built into the cliff-sides, Link tugged on Midna’s arm, and the two ducked behind a ridge to observe.
The Gerudo paced back and forth before the several entrances of the fortress. Tanned skin, vibrant red curls, purple puffed pants with sleeveless blouses revealing firm, flat midriffs. All just as Link imagined them from the preserved tales. Including the sharp spears they carried upright while pacing. To the left, a huge gate stood open; what lay beyond, they could not tell, though Link guessed it was the desert.
“Now what?” Midna whispered. “Do you think I should try talking to them? Perhaps, as a woman, they might trust me better?”
“Or perhaps, as a woman, we would see through your schemes and discover they were the pitiful set-up of a weak, back-stabbing man.”
Link and Midna whirled and jumped up, Link shielding Midna as the four thieves gathered around, trapping them.
“Oh yes,” the one sneered, rolling her eyes. “As if the lady was so utterly helpless....”
Link narrowed his eyes. Of course, he knew Midna was capable. But he cared more for her safety.…
“What?” the Gerudo scoffed, hands lighting haughtily upon her hips. “Can you not speak?”
Link shook his head, hand twitching over the hilt of his blade.
The Gerudo’s eyes glanced to that hand casually, almost as if bored, and then back up to meet the challenge in Link’s eyes.
“I see. Well then, I suppose your sword will have to speak for you!”
Without further warning, all four ladies drew curved blades and spun through the air at Link. He blocked one, two, three—
The fourth landed a blow to his head. Blunt, as if the flat part of the sword mercifully made contact, but hard. Even as Midna shrieked his name, his vision faded and then turned black.