Before there was Light, Part Three

Trying to keep up with Lee's breakneck speed! Here is part three in the story of Impa's growth and development...


Had Defaid and I been completely safe, we would have spent the night with the Tacka Clan on Death Mountain’s smoldering peek, but we had enjoyed our day of freedom enough and decided to head back. Sometimes I blame myself for not been there for my clan, but in the end, I guess there was nothing we could have done in any event, but doubt always fills my mind over this.

Defaid was obviously back to his old self after our talk. The rest of the way up the mountain had been the normal delightful torture of dealing with his teasing, laughing, and various other shenanigans.
“Mistress Impa, I was wondering…” he quipped as we neared our clan’s training grounds, “is it possible to sneak through our brothers and masters into the common hall without been noticed?”
“No Defaid,” I began, giving him a sidelong glance, “you are NOT allowed to try and break into our own home.”
“You, Mistress Impa,” he replied with great emphasis and a mock pout, “are no fun…”
“I have been called worse,” I responded, hoping my smirk does not show up in the dark.
Defaid made to respond, but stopped suddenly. His body became slightly tenser, and he began to look about more alertly.
“What is it?” I asked, beginning to follow his eyes around the craggy training grounds.
“Just a feeling,” he replied, still obviously on edge, “like not all is right… shouldn’t there be at least SOMEONE out here practicing night fighting?”
He did not need to offer this explanation, for I was getting the same feeling as well. Nodding to him, we both disappeared into the darkness covering the practice field and began to sneak closer to the cave where the clan must be.

Stealth, as any Shiekah knows, can actually be harder to achieve at night then during the day. In the day there are shadows that conceal and distort, but the night is without shadow and people are more alert, looking for intruders. Of course, the first thing most non-trained people will do is make a fire, restoring shadow and adding the attacker rather then themselves. That is why the Shiekah embrace the darkness, forcing themselves to operate in the world of little light. But this time there is no fire casting concealing light, and so Defaid and I had to move quickly and silently, praying we went undetected. For most Shiekah our age, the task would have been impossible, but in all modesty I knew Remha’s evaluation was correct; Defaid and I were no ordinary Shiekah. Each of us had skill well beyond our years.

We were about twenty yard from the cave when I caught the first whiff of smoke. On one level this should not seem surprising. It was winter, and even a Shiekah requires heat in the coldest of night. But this was most certainly NOT the coldest of nights, and as I have said, Shiekah do not build fires often, and always find a way to disguise them so as to prevent the smoke from giving away their position. I could not help but think this was not a Shiekah fire. Defaid, a few feet to my right, must have also gotten this impression, for he melded back into the darkness with extra caution. We slowly crawled closer to the cave, and as we neared it, I was able to see a dull orange glow emanating from the cave entrance. I could see two figures darkly silhouetted against the glow, their black shadows sharply defined.

“Assassins,” a tallish muscular scoffed, hands on his hips in an arrogant manner, “apparently it takes a good thief to kill now a days.”
“Perhaps,” a shapely female figure with a waist-length ponytail responded. Even in the orange light, the hair of both figures had a reddish sheen.
“The Shiekah are the real power behind the vaunted Hylian military… if we whittle them away, the forces of the ‘empire’ will be as cows taken to slaughter,” the man went on, turning back to the fire, “see to it the Moblins are blamed…”
“Of course, mightiness.”

I glanced over to Defaid, but he shook his head. He apparently had no more an idea of who these strange attackers were then I did. We edged forward, blending into the shadows cast by fire. I stopped as the man spoke again, hoping for a clue about his origins.
“How many did we kill tonight?”
“Four score by the spear, and an additional twenty burned in the cave.”
I was barely able to keep from crying in alarm. That was the entire clan. All of them had been at the cave sans Defaid and I, so the possibility of the woman speaking true was very high.
“Of the Guard, nearly seventy spear were slain, and an additional-”
“I do not care about how many of your precious Guard were lost Naburoo… if it were not for my power, you would have failed anyway.”
“I told you we were not ready to face opponents as formidable as the Shiekah, sire… if I had my way-”
“If you had your way we would be waiting to face the Shiekah united as an army. Better to lose a few worthless guards from that hovel of a fortress you command then bargain with my kingdom.”
“And the women and children that were killed tonight?” I could have sworn I saw the light glisten off a tear, and her voice was raw with anger, “you mentioned nothing about that when you called my Guard onto this mission; you said this was a training camp for warriors!”
“It is, or rather was…” the man replied, turning to walk away, “don’t concern yourself with petty facts like age, Naburoo; all of them would have ended up killing my people.”
“Your father would not endorse this, Gannondorf, and you know that!”
“My father,” he retorted, turning to look over his broad shoulder, “will soon be dead. I will rule the nation, not his memory, and you would do well to remember that.”
He stalked off into the shadows leaving the woman in front of the glowing cave entrance alone.

I turned to look at Defaid, but he was not where I had left him; and then a sudden rush of movement caught my eye. The next thing I knew, Defaid was standing in front of the cave, executing a perfect choke-hold on the remaining woman. I darted after him, praying he had thought to check for remaining warriors.
“Defaid!” I hissed, “what are you doing? There might be others!”
“Already checked…” he replied, spinning the woman around, pressing her back against the rough cliff wall our cave had been dug into, and clamping a hand over her mouth, “just this little lady, and I’m sure she has lots to say…”

In the dull sheen of the fire light I could just distinguish the pointed odd-looking features of the woman, and though I didn’t know it, I was looking at my first Greudo. She looked to be about my age, and at the time I had no way of knowing that these strange desert people age at nearly half the rate of normal Hylians and Shiekah. One thing I learned right away was that the snapping green eyes of a Greudo can exude hate like no other. She glared back and forth from me to Defaid, shooting arrows of pure hatred at us.
“Shhh,” hissed Defaid, returning her harsh glare, “now, you gonna be a good girl and not scream too loud? I can break your neck very easily, so please don’t make me…”
The green eyes were still livid, but she nodded slowly.

“No one to yell to anyway,” she growled as soon as Defaid took his hand away, “that lying son of sand probably took every single member of my Guard that wasn’t butchered around this cave with him to cover his back…”
“Why did you come here?” I asked stepping in threateningly. Her green eyes glowered back up at me, and I was finally able to get a better look at her. Her red hair was bound up in some strange top-knot before falling down to her waist. Her head only came to about Defaid’s shoulders, and she wore black silky looking clothing that ran from her feet up to her neck, long sleeves ending in fingerless gloves. I remember the clothing was as tight as a second skin, and I actually felt slightly ashamed of the way I looked. I had always thought I was decent looking, but this girl had beauty that was beyond the Shiekah.
“I came here because that upstart Gannondorf lied to his father and said this was the training ground of an army the Hylian king was sending to invade our land. I saw warriors training, but I did not see it was a residence of young and old as well until it was too late,” once again I thought I saw a tear in the young woman’s eye. Defaid must have seen it too, because I remember he eased his grip slightly, lightening his hold on her.
“Who are you, and who’s this Gannondorf fellow?”
“I’m Naburoo, leader of the Guard… we protect Greudo Fortress from would be tyrants… I just never thought one would come from within our own race.”
“That would be our friend Gannondorf I take it,” Defaid replied, obviously picking up on the tension that was evident.
“If he were only half the man his father was I would have no problem with his succession to our throne… but he is not. He holds the Thieves’ Code in distain, often stealing from women, children, or the less fortunate. However, our law does dictate that the Greudo male should be king.”
“You mean, there’s only one male in the entire Greudo race?” Defaid asked, surprise plain on his voice. Naburoo sighed, as though this were a subject she had explained many times and was tired of giving.
“Yes… one male born every hundred years. By law our king.”
“Um, do all Greudo women, uh, look like you?” Defaid pried further, giving a veiled glance over Naburoo’s extremely, shall I say ample, figure. I nearly killed him right there.
“Naburoo,” I interjected, giving Defaid a look that was meant to portray my growing frustration with him, “are you saying that the Greudo king sent you here to kill us?”
“What? Oh, you mean Gannondorf… he WISHES that, but he’s not king yet, despite how he carries himself. No, Gannondorf’s father Ranidorf still lives, and therefore still reins. Would that he never die!”

I remember the hate in her eyes when talking about Gannondorf was ten times as strong as the obvious disgust of us.
“So I take it this Ranidorf guy wouldn’t take kindly to killing children like this?” Defaid asked. He had ceased pinning her against the wall, but kept a firm grasp on her right wrists.
“Never!” Naburoo replied, shaking her head vigorously, “we hate the Hylians and their cursed lust for power, but the Thieves’ Code would never allow for such butchery. We may not bow to the oppressor like you pathetic Shiekah, but we are no murders… at least not all of us…” she finished wish a disgusted hiss, eyes glaring at where Gannondorf’s figure had retreated into the darkness.
“Well?” Defaid asked, turning to me, “got any ideas?”
“We can’t just kill her,” I replied, frowning slightly, “but we don’t have time to deal with her… we need to look for possible survivors.”
Defaid nodded and released Naburoo. She flexed it experimentally, then gave us a rather sardonic smirk.
“You won’t find any… like I said, I was too late to stop what happened. But for what it’s worth, I owe you two one. I’m not without influence in the Greudo kingdom... so if you ever need anything with the desert let me know!”
With that she turned and melted into the shadows with grace and speed that any Shiekah would have been proud to claim.

This was my first meeting with the Queen of the Thieves, but the Goddesses know it would not be my last.

*******

“Happy Birthday, young princess…”
“Thank you, minister.”
“You’re becoming quite the lady Princess Zelda.”
“I hope so, Aunty Kistiren.”
“Well, congratulations princess.”
Zelda is holding up very well under the barrage of ‘well-wishers’ about ninety percent of whom she has never met. I will have to remember and give some kind of treat for her actions tonight.

“Lords and Ladies,” my head turns towards the large doors leading to the Great Hall as the herald calls out new arrivals, “King Zola, and his daughter Princess Rutto.”
Zelda sends a quick smile up at me. While I have no great love for the Zora, I must admit I hope Princess Rutto will be a good playmate for Zelda; the poor girl has suffered a great deal in silence today…

Zola is an exceedingly old Zora, and as such looks more like a giant manatee with legs then a Hylian. His broad flat face holds a bored, pompous look, and there seems to be little in the way of actual dignity about him. Of course, since Zora people never actually stop growing over their lives, King Zola does stand impressively tall. A good head and shoulder above head and shoulder, King Zola dwarfs everyone in the room. It might be more impressive if her were not so inordinately fat. As his massive sides of blubber sag into the room, a young Zora, about Zelda’s height steps from around him. Princess Rutto looks the same as most Zora her age, though her features are what they would call pretty. Her round, flattish, head is cocked arrogantly to the side, hip thrown out, and I whisper a silent prayer. Rutto does not look like she wants to be here at all, and I think poor Zelda might have yet another dream crushed.

The large Zora king walks, or rather waddles, pompously over.
“Princess Zelda,” he gurgles, his S’s slurring out like Z’s in a traditional Zora accent, “I am sure you are greatly honored by my presence here, and I am also sure you will show great respect by thanking me for attending…”
I remained outwardly passive, but I was ready to rip the arrogant fish’s arms off and beat him to death with them. The very nerve of his attitude was infuriating, but it was even worse for me since I knew how much heartache this whole party was for Zelda. Not only was she not spending the time she wanted so desperately with her father, but now she was forced to endure the prideful Zora king; a pompous would-be ruler of a defeated nation.
“I am glad you were able to come,” Zelda beams, smiling at the smaller Zora, “and you must be Princess Rutto!”
The Zora ‘princess’ snorts in response. Giving an exaggerated yawn of boredom, she turns to the pompous lump of blubber that calls himself her father.
“Father,” she whines, pointing at the long tables, “I want food now… my tummy is growling…”
“We will find our seats soon enough, my dear,” Zola gurgles. He nods once at Zelda, then waddles away bulbous sides quivering in strange contortions. By Din’s Fire, I swear he has to be one of the most revolting things I have ever seen… Rutto turns to follow, muttering what I think is a curse directed at Zelda under her breath. If Shiekah did not so rigorously train in martial discipline, I am sure I would be delivering much needed corporal punishment to the arrogant snot of a princess. No wonder they had fallen to the Hylian Empire; Fiate leaves more nobility and class in his waste-chambers then their entire royal line possesses.

I glance down to Zelda, who is forcing an obviously faked smile. I think I can actually see tears glimmering in the back of her large blue eyes. Poor, poor girl… the day is not exactly going to be one of her better memories. Sometimes I regret my life as a Shiekah; I love her a great deal, but showing a child comfort was not a skill I learned over my darker years. Maybe if Defaid and I had ever had the chance to raise children…

“Lords and Ladies; Duchess Susanne Akinda, and her daughter Jistine…”

I whisper a silent prayer of thanks to every god, goddess, and great fairy I know. I had known that at least Marcus Akinda and his two remaining sons were away on business in Turminnia, and I had feared they might have taken Jistine with them. Ever since the messy business of the young Toran’s kidnapping two years ago, Marcus had kept close tabs on the remaining female contingent of his set of twins, and Jistine rarely was too far out of his sight. I am extremely grateful that, for whatever reason, the duke decided tonight would be a safe event for his daughter to attend. Zelda visibly brightens for the first time since the seemingly endless stream of guests began trooping in. Laughing happily, she waves across the room at Jistine. Normally I would feel compelled to reprimand the less then lady-like action, but right now grace is coming exceptionally easily for me. Jistine darts away from her mother and over to us as soon as they have reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh, Zel!” she nearly squeals, grabbing both of the princess’ small hands in her own, “how do you do! I need to tell you all about my fishing trip with father; it was ever so fun… How has the palace been?”Giggling, Zelda responds, and I leave them to their girlish chatter. Dresses, horses, boys, playful adventures at Lake Hylia… Hylian children certainly talk about different things then I was forced to discuss as a child…