Fan Fiction Friday: The Man Behind the Masks – Part 17

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Howling wind rattled blue stain glass windows. Above me, curtains of crimson velvet were draped from corner to corner and the sweet smell of burning incense pervaded the room.

Where am I?

I had to force my eyes to stay open as they clung to remnants of sleep.  My last memories were hazy but fraught. I remembered my journey atop one of those gigantic black beasts. Up there, it was a lot higher than the wagon had been and I have never particularly enjoyed heights. The ride back to the desert had been most undignified, upon my captor’s insistence that my arms remain tightly about her waist. I tried to hold onto the saddle but as the speed of the animal had threatened to throw me off, it soon became apparent that Kavia would get her own way. Something I learned early on that she was very good at.

Swinging my legs out of the four-poster bed, I eased myself up. I looked down at my feet in surprise, attached were a pair of purple slippers pointed at the toe. They felt extremely comfortable. It was an odd feeling as I had not worn anything underfoot since I fell into Zora River.

“Ah, sav’otta, my little voe.”

My fingers grasped at the bedsheets and yanked them up. Behind them, I could hear a deep throaty chuckle.

“There’s no need to be bashful, you wear the garb of a Gerudo now.”

I looked down and gulped. There was far more of my pale skin on show than I would like. This “garb” of red fabric and strategically placed strips of leather was far too revealing. “I would rather wear my own clothes, thank you.”

The sheets were torn away and Kavia smirked at me. In the light of day, I could finally see her clearly. Ripples of long red hair and purple harem pants tucked in at the ankle. The rest of her attire, or what little there was of it, would probably have caused quite a scandal in Castle Town market. “It’s custom for my voe to wear something that shows strength and prowess.”

“Yes,” I replied rather awkwardly, “about that… Forgive me, but what does voe actually mean?”

She wandered over to the dresser and picked up a small statue. It looked rather serpentine in nature but on closer inspection, turned out to be a woman wearing a snakeskin hood and a sword slung over her left shoulder. Kavia held the statue out to me. “This is our guardian deity, the Desert Goddess. We look to her for divine protection and the power to crush our enemies. You have Goddesses too, I’ve heard.”

“Yes, Din, Nayru and Farore,” I replied. “That is their names for those who worship them.”

“And do you worship them?”

Why does she want to know that?

“I did once, but no longer.”

She nodded as if somehow satisfied with my answer, and carefully replaced the Goddess statue. “What’s your name?”

“So, what does voe mean?”

She smiled. “Perhaps I should keep calling you Little Hylian Man?”

“I suspect you would enjoy that far too much.” Kavia was considerably taller than me and very charming. But I had played this game before with Guru-Guru, asking questions whilst dealing with avoidance tactics. I needed to know what trouble I was in and more importantly how to get out of it.

Still, revealing my name would not hurt, surely?  After all, she had introduced herself last night, albeit when stabbing holes in Yasei’s wagon. Standing a little taller, I looked her in the eye. “I am Ronri Okane.”

“Interesting, tell me more.”

More? This is beginning to feel like an interrogation; a mild one, but still, an interrogation.

“Tell me what voe means first.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “In our language, voe means man. Learn quickly, it will make your life here a lot easier. And… speak with less words. That is quicker.”

“My life, here?” I tried to hide the panic in my voice. Kavia had mentioned something about other men not being allowed into the fortress. Was I the only one?

“Now, tell me of your name.”

I wondered how many people actually cared about name meanings. Who made such decisions? Scholars and soothsayers? Or were surnames intrinsically bound to the trade of a family with no mystery to them at all? I have no answers of course.  Still, I do know the latter refers to myself. Oh yes, less words, I had forgotten already.

It had been a terrible winter. The snows so deep that the village had been cut off from the rest of civilization. It was on a cold, dark evening, huddled near the fire, that my mother had told me.

“I’m afraid it’s nothing special, sweetheart, our family name just means money. Your father is an accountant, and he hopes that you’ll follow in his footsteps. But between you and me,” her blue eyes twinkled mischievously, “you can be who and whatever you want.” My mother coughed again into a handkerchief and I went to fetch her medicine. Whenever she drank that foul elixir her face would turn an ugly shade of green. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, Ronri means logic, a reasonable way of thinking about things. The world is a chaotic place. It needs more logical people to sort it all out.”

“But Mother, how can I do that?”

“Haven’t a clue! But I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

I thought often about that unshakable faith Mother had in me. How could I, a mere child at the time, hope to sort the world out? It was a ridiculous expectation and most unfair I might add. She became so confused towards the end. Her words, endless ramblings that made no sense and Father had told me to ignore them. That was when he started to change.

“Being logical in a world of chaos is like trying to fight the wind,” Kavia said as she moved towards the enclosed balcony with latticework carved in zan wood.

Flinging open the shutters, sand sparrows scattered, and I was hit by a wall of humidity. My skin shirked away from the sun.

“Embrace the elements and you’ll soon get used to it.” She stepped into the intense heat as if greeting an old friend. “Come and see your new home, the view from up here is the best in the whole fortress.”

I took a deep breath and ventured out. Below, Gerudo guards carrying spears patrolled back and forth passing grey stone buildings with flat rooves. Here, the sand had bleached the landscape and lizards stuck out their tongues as they dozed. The only hint of colour came from the tatty red flags scattered around. These, Kavia informed me, displayed the Gerudo crest; the back of a king cobra. Snakes were revered here it seemed.

“So, what are your skills?”

More questions… 

To the east, a large gate barred the way to what I assumed was the desert. Strong winds blew across the barren land so it made the sand ripple like waves on a golden sandy sea. I remembered Old Man Shikashi had spoken of this place known as the Haunted Wastelands. It was very easy to get lost inside the sand storms and if rumour were to be believed, ghosts lived there too. Escape would not be found in that direction.

“I can make masks,” I said finally.

Kavia studied her fingernails which were painted bright blue. “No, anything else?”

A spike of rage tore through me. “What’s this all about? What do you want from me?”

The Gerudo said nothing as she turned away from the window. She clenched and unclenched her fists before lifting the lid of an enormous chest. “Wear this when outside.” Her tone did not invite discussion. She dangled, what I could only describe as a solid gold collar, in front of me.

My hands flew to my neck. “Absolutely not, I am not a dog to be kept on a leash.”

“If you don’t, the guards will chop you into pieces on sight. If I don’t cut you down first.” She slammed the chest shut. “I said less words.”

“I never asked to be brought here. I gave you answers. I want to know what happened to my friends.” I fell at her feet. “Please, tell me if they’re still alive!”

“Hmm.” She considered, before offering me the collar again. “Wear this and I might.”

I glared at her. Even Yasei had never been this bossy. Every time I gave in to the Gerudo it felt like a noose tightening around my neck. But my compliance was the only thing I had to bargain with right now. “As you wish.”

Kavia opened the clasp. The small plates of layered gold reminded me of dragon scales. At the front, again set-in gold, indentations that looked like a face. Perhaps it was the light, but I swear I saw fangs jutting from each side. Click, snap!  It wasn’t as heavy as I feared but cold. I clasped my hands together to stop myself from tearing it off.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“My friends,” I insisted.

Kavia nodded. “Let’s walk together.”

A tour of the fortress revealed a maze of stone corridors that all looked exactly the same. Keeping track of the left and right turns only served to make my brain hurt. I felt certain “my guide” had deliberately led me in circles, but her face betrayed nothing. Guards stared, the grips on their spears tightened as we passed. Not the friendliest bunch. There were a number of prison cells as well, but I couldn’t see Yasei in any of them.

Where could she be? I pulled at the wretched collar making my skin itch. Yasei drove me to distraction sometimes but to continue without her? I know I complain about travelling and monsters, and bandits and well, everything! But I have also begun to see the joy of it. The joy of sharing a journey with another.      

Such musings would lead only to a heavy heart, but I challenged anyone to remain cheerful within these claustrophobic walls. Huh?

“What is it, my voe?” Kavia crossed her arms. “Why have you stopped?”

Ahead, peeking around the corner, was a jiggling stone head that looked very familiar.

“Hey, where did you get that mask?”

They took off, bolting away towards the warren of corridors. I could hear Kavia’s grunt of disapproval behind me, but I did not have time to think. Following the little thief with red hair, we turned a dizzying number of corners. They dived behind one of the large crates scattered around the complex and I skidded to a halt.

Feels like my wallet being stolen all over again. “Do you like the mask?” I asked, creeping forwards. “I made it from limestone a long time ago.”

“It’s alright.”

“In fact, it is the only one I have made in this style.” By now, I had reached the crate and if I stood on tip toe could just see over the top. The child had removed the stone mask. Her forehead wrinkled in thought.

“You see, the dust made me sneeze and cough so much that I haven’t used chisel and stone since.” The child shot up, her eyes the colour of liquid amber darted from me to the nearest corridor. Less words, Ronri, less words. “Where did you find it?”

“In the stables next to the horse dung.”

What? I may not have a particularly strong attachment to this mask, but the thought of it being treated so poorly made my blood boil. I hate to think what might have happened to the others.

“I have an idea; how about I make you a new mask? It can be any shape; a dragon? Mermaid?”

“Nuh uh, finders’ keepers.” She clasped the mask to her chest like a precious teddy bear. “I want this mask.”

Of course, you do.  I hung my head. I should have expected no less from a child of the Gerudo.

 

Featured art: Alison Brunyee via Canva.com

Alison Brunyee (Otwl) is an Original Content Editor for Zelda Dungeon. She likes reading manga and collecting Japanese wind chimes. Her favorite Zelda game is Ocarina of Time, but she is currently battling through A Link to the Past. For a bit of escapism during this tough time, check out more fan fiction from her alter writing ego – Otwl. Stay safe x