Of Kings, Gods, and Girls [Ganondorf, Enel]

[Eighteen]

The hot wind pressed on her face, a reminder of where they had come from, and where they were going. Above, the sun was a heated beast making sweat bubble to the surface of flesh, but it was a relief compared to what they had just been through. The fire of the sun was nothing compared to that of a dragon.

Her fingers clutched at scale and fur, a mighty thumping of wings was the only noise to be heard. Her golden hair fluttered with the rushing wind. She had almost forgotten what it had felt like to fly. An unusual sense of joy began to blossom in her gut, but she was sure that it would be short lived. After all, she was not alone.

Eighteen wasn’t entirely sure why she had saved him. All manners of inner thoughts had urged her to finish the job, join with the others, and leave the man behind. If this had been a couple of weeks ago she wouldn’t have had a problem doing it. She would have had herself a large group of like-minded heroes to get out of here with, and a dragon to call her own.

Alas, she had done the unthinkable, and saved the would-be King. His filthy blood had soiled her clothing, easily replaceable, but still an ill reminder of what had happened. She had to ask herself, as they soared above sand and clouds, against the heat of the desert; why was she still with him?

For a brief moment, a mere flicker, her mind recalled that dastardly battle, and her undoing by a kiss.

“Keep going, past the Town With No Name,” he said, all but pressed against her ear. A shudder, carefully restrained, made her knuckles turn white.

Rathalos moved like a serpentine god through the open sky, all manner of clouds had disappeared quickly, allowing the desert to truely become a sordid whole of waste and decay. They flew above the rotted town, eyes staring up in wonder, and in seconds it was all behind them. They passed rocky canyons and crevices, until a large plateau erupted into the sky.

It was waiting for them.

“There,” he said. The sound in his voice was filled with unbridled excitement. What was his plan, she wondered? Ganondorf had the mind of a puzzle, and as much as she tried, she couldn’t exactly figure him out. One moment he was as honeyed as a poet, and the next, he was a monstrous behemoth filled with darkness beyond words.

They landed, the dust of the stone lifted with an upheaval. The Android dismounted her legs raw and sore. She paid little mind to Enel, instead, choosing to venture a few yards from the men. Her eyes watched the horizon, and her mind lingered on the past.

“Where are we?” said the supposed God as he begrudgingly dismounted and stared at the nothingness around them.

“We’re home,” said the supposed King, who winced at the pain that lingered in his abdomen. It would take time, but this was it. This was where it would all begin. With those words, he stood at the precipice, and began to summon forth all of the powers within him.

--

It took hours, and in those hours, Eighteen merely watched. It was a shimmering bubble that was fit to burst. Ganondorf’s plan was clear to her once she saw the pure size of his summoning. He was creating his castle. While she was content to stand, hands clasping the Egg of Rathalos, her blue gaze watching with mild interest, Enel was impatient.

There was no where he could go, so she paid him little attention. She was tired. Too tired to care about illusions and God-complex’s. She was too exhausted to wonder what her part was in all of this. She was too numb to think about Raditzu, and if she would ever see him again. So, she watched, and she waited, and eventually, it was done.

--

Ganondorf’s home was massive. It was a tower whose bottom rose above a sea of lava. An arching bridge of weaving rainbows connected the plateau to its stone exterior. Within the center of the plateau, where before there was nothing, now resided a semblance of a valley town. Its rough stone walls were befitting of canyon walls. Wooden bridges spanned rushing water. It was crafted masterly, and in such a way, that she was sure that it had been from more than just a single thought.

The dark skinned warrior had fallen to one knee, hand against his stomach, and beads of sweat on his brow. The sun had fallen, and risen, now heavy in the sky. The glow made him look almost handsome in a way.

“Is this your home? Where you’re from?” she asked, stepping beside him.

“Yes,” he said, voice rough, but he did he best to hide his exhaustion. Ganondorf stood, and before long, a pleased smirk lighted his lips. “Shall we?”

--

The three companions entered the tower. There was, to Eighteen’s surprise, a woman within. After a brief explanation, she discovered that he was also able to create a servant. That was all fine, but her mind was still on thoughts of sleep, to rest her weary bones. “Just point me in the direction of my bed.”

“This way,” he said, regarding a set of steps leading upward. “Feel free to look around, my Lord. I’m sure you’ll find a room to your liking,” he added, giving Enel the most polite honeyed words he could.

Eighteen was already several steps above the ground level, her eyes flicking from stone, to corridor. It wasn’t until she reached the top that she stopped. There within an open doorway resided a wealthy room adorned in reds and gold. An organ took up some space, but not as much as the massive bed in the center.

What piqued her interest, more-so, was the modest bed off to the side. Not caring much for politics and games, the Android flipped her hair over her shoulder and quite happily claimed the large bed with a mighty fall. It was, in her opinion, the comfiest of them all. Ganondorf be damned, sleep was her reward.

[Ganondorf]

Ganondorf’s new palace brought both pleasant and unpleasant memories back to the Gerudo. During those seven short years, it had been both his home and the symbol of his rightful rule. And yet, it had also been the place of his downfall. Still, when the thought had come to him that it was time to create a place for himself, no other domicile would do. The addition of the traditional Gerudo village built into the surrounding plateau walls was just icing of the cake.

Having left Enel behind to find quarters for himself, and inwardly breathing a sigh of relief for now having to continue with feeding the man’s nonsensical god complex, Ganondorf and Eighteen had retired upstairs. Of course, upon arriving, the woman naturally took the King’s bed as her own. With a chuckle, Ganondorf began readying himself for bed as well, stripping away his clothing and tossing the dirt and blood soiled garments aside. The house servant he had summoned, Nofrina, would take care of the cleaning for them. At least he assumed so. Though he had brought her forth to act as a maid of sorts, Gerudo women always had strong personalities. Much like the woman lying in his bed at the moment.

Once down to a simple linen undergarment, Ganondorf set to cleaning himself at a wash basin set not too far from the bed. Purposefully, he kept from looking in his blonde companion’s direction, instead focusing on removing the filth from his body. It didn’t take too long, though the water was a kaleidoscope of red, brown, and black when he finished. Finally, Ganondorf set his forehead jewel upon the side table by his massive bed and laid himself down. Only then did he deign to acknowledge Eighteen’s presence in the massive thing.

“I had expected it would take longer to get you into my bed, my Lady. I’m glad to see that you’re as eager for this rendezvous as I.”

[Ganondorf]

Silence fell over the bedchamber as those final words left Ganondorf’s mouth. Minutes passed before Eighteen rolled over to face the Gerudo King. Her hands rose, cupping the dark-skinned man’s cheeks and pulling herself close, locking lips with Ganondorf. Her body pressed against his, curves molding perfectly against the desert man’s sand roughened skin. Never breaking that passionate kiss, the blonde fighter pushed against him, laying Ganondorf onto his back and climbing atop him.

Unfortunately, this is where her true colors revealed themselves. Eighteen’s hands slipped from Ganondorf’s cheeks and to his neck. Muscles tensed, closing off the Gerudo’s windpipe. He struggled against her, emerald eyes staring up at his assailant. Her face betrayed no emotion, but her eyes… the normally placid waters of those sapphire orbs had turned dark as the depths. That darkness spread as Ganondorf’s thrashings were unable to dislodge the advantageously positioned woman. Soon, his movements became slower, his thoughts halting, and his life faded away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All this ran through Ganondorf’s mind as he finished cleaning himself, gazing through the washstand mirror at Eighteen. Yes... joining her would certainly be a poor idea at this juncture. Though she had saved his life, the King knew it would be foolish to trust her that far. At least, not yet. And so, wiping the last of the grime and blood from his near naked physique, Ganondorf instead moved over to his organ. As he rose to his feet, a fleeting image caught his eye the corner of his eye from the mirror. Looking again, Ganondorf saw nothing amiss, but he could have sworn a young boy, that same young boy, had been in the chamber with them. The youth’s flame-red hair, so reminiscent of his own, was hard to miss.

The instrument was just as he remembered it, which made sense as he created it from memory. Seating himself before it, he began to play. A haunting melody issued forth from the massive pipes behind the instrument. Rather than the tune he’d played while Link had scaled his tower to confront the Gerudo, Ganondorf played a softer song. It was the first he had learned as a boy, taught to him by his godmothers. They had told him then that this song had been passed along through the Gerudo generations from a time before they had lived in the desert. To him, it spoke of majestic palisades, elegant tapestries, and loss. He soon lost himself as well, in the playing and the memories of his youth.

[Eighteen]

The King of Sand moved with fluid motions, gently splashing basin water, and giving nary a word in her direction. It would have behoved her to ignore his presence and let sleep occupy her mind. This was not the case. The sound of scuffled feet and dripping water was resounding, pricking her ears, and leaving her little room to slumber.

Eighteen didn't trust him. The android trusted him about as far as she could throw him; which wasn't far. There was little to be said of their arrangement. If these were barbaric times, she would be a trussed slave, waiting for whatever end was in mind for her. Alas, these were darker times than that of monkey-men and human history. Whatever Ganondorf planned for her, she was sure it had little to do with simple wonton desires.

The girl rolled over, her elbow cushioned by the plushness of the pillow. Blue-grey eyes peered at the endlessness of the room. Vaulted ceilings rose high, met with incredible walls, adorned by tapestry's and useless collections. Her gaze didn't linger long on brick and thread, instead, it hovered on the statue-esq figure of her lord and master.

Notes that were softer than a maiden's breath filled the bedchamber. There was nothing quite like it that she could compare it to. The organ had a quality to it that was both somber and riveting. She wasn't quite sure why she had never heard such an instrument, then again, the android wasn't much of a music connoisseur. Not entirely one to disturb without reason, the girl listened intently, unknowingly allowing the soothing rhythm to chisel away at her hard exterior and befuddle her senses. The way with which he played caused the warm room to feel that much more comfortable to her weary bones.

It wasn't all that bad, either, to look at him. Although the man could be akin to a boar, he wasn't exactly homely. He had a rough way to him. There was sand in his veins; copper skin rippled with muscles toned by labours both physical and soul wrenching. The crop of his orange burnt hair was shaggy and hued by the flaring of the flames in the fireplace. Without all that armour, Ganondorf, King of the Gerudo and nemesis to the Hero of Time, was really just another man.

Men, she knew that race well enough.

“What am I doing here?” she asked at length, when the music slowed to a pause and the fire cracked and spitted in the hearth. It was the only sound for a time. “You're not a psychopath, I've surmised that much.”

Eighteen, in all her wisdom of the common bad guy and the ne'er do well, never let her eyes leave his solitary figure. “I'm trying to figure out just who you really are, Ganondorf,” she added. “You're not who you say you are. I mean,” there was a pause as the android hinted at a smile, “you're not exactly beneath Mr. God-Almighty down there, but you're also not as much of a villain as you want us all to believe.”

Before he could answer, if he were to answer at all, she let her melodic voice add promptly to her questions, “Unless you choose to prove me wrong.”

[Ganondorf]

Eighteen’s words elicited a deep, throaty chuckle from the Gerudo King. His head lowered towards the ivory keys as amusement took over, the chuckle turning into full-blown laughter. Moments passed before Ganondorf could compose himself; when he did, the sun-darkened man stood and walked over to his blonde companion. Despite the rather elevated mattress upon which she lay, Ganondorf’s impressive form towered over her like a child over an ant. A wry smirk turned his lip skyward and his jade eyes soaked in the sight before him.

“A villain, Eighteen?” Ganondorf finally spoke, after an eternity of seconds passed. “I apologize if anything I’ve done thus far has led you to this conclusion.”

Seating himself on the plush bedding, the flame-haired man continued without pause, “You wish to know just what I am? I’m simply a man with ambition. And like all men with drive, there are those who will see the worst in me, such as the boy you witnessed attacking me in the cavern. The change I wrought in Hyrule was not a change he wished to be, and as such we were at odds. Then, he was the victor and I was banished to a realm between realms.”

Those emerald orbs lost focus, his gaze upon something not in the room. A flood of memories washed over Ganondorf and he involuntarily shuddered at the recollection. Still, he continued speaking.

“Of course, I was the victor in our latest engagement, though I doubt it will be our last.”

The desert-hardened man’s eyes refocused on the woman in bed with him, “Though I doubt any of this means anything to you. The point is: there are no villains, Eighteen. There are no heroes. There are simply men and women. We all have the capacity for great good and great evil, yet even the darkest man has a spark of light in his soul and the purest saint has a shadow lurking in her heart. How history judges us is what gives the labels of heroes and villains.”

Ganondorf reclined in the massive bed, head upon the pillows, though body on top of the bedding. Fortunately, his loincloth as yet covered his unmentionables; something Ganondorf was careful to ensure as he had no desire to live out his previous fantasy. His eyes, those deep pools of green, never left Eighteen.

“As for what you’re doing here… well, I wonder the same myself. Having rescued my personage, and attained that treasure for me, I had assumed you’d have considered us even and made your leave. Yet, you remain. Not only do you remain, but you have chosen to lay your head in my bed. Perhaps you should ask yourself why you have chosen to stay by my side.”

With a final chuckle, Ganondorf shifted into a more comfortable and smiled, baring teeth as white as bleached bones.

“But since you have chosen my bed, I would ask that you slip into something more suited to sleeping, my Lady. I’d prefer not to have the dirt and grime of a hard day’s work litter my place of sleep.

[Eighteen]

He'd nailed it on the head. Not that she would admit to any of his claims. Eighteen had wondered, herself, why she was still here. She'd done more than enough to pay forward the loss she'd been dealt. She'd helped him get to the Town With No Name, and accomplish the erection of his magnificent tower. She wasn't sure what other plans he had had in mind, considering what she'd heard him say while skulking about in the dunes. Thus far he'd done nothing to suspect his character. Then there was the dragon, and that alone was payment enough. He very well could have died today.

“Even?” she said after a lengthy pause. “You had won unfairly, just to be clear.” The girl swung her legs over his bed, and her gaze pierced into him from over her shoulder. “There was nothing to get even over.”

Once she stood, she turned to look at him proper, and set each hand on her hip. “And where am I to go, anyway? Should I become one of the whore's in the town you were planning to sack? Or should I go crawling off toward Camelot and hope the band of heroes will take me in?”
egg
It was absurd to think that she had chosen this course. Never had Eighteen been in this predicament. “You're probably right about sparks of light and dabs of darkness, but you have no idea the kind of bullshit villainous crap I've had to witness back home. There is pure evil, and you're not it, not in the least, but you're hiding something regardless.”

Now the girl lifted her finger, and with it, she pointed at the scantily clad male. “And your name isn't written on the headboard, and I don't care how hard you try,” she motioned at his loincloth. “You're not my type. I'm happily committed to someone. So, if you want to be king pompous and insinuate some hidden agenda, I'll gladly take my leave. After all, I could have left ages ago.”

The android rolled her eyes and spun on her heels, giving the king something to chew on. As much as she'd had doubts about him, and this place, and where she was going, she wasn't going to let him get at her that easily.

“I'm here for more reasons than you'll know, but if you're truly done with me, then have fun with God. I can easily take my leave after I rest.” Surely, if she knew Ganondorf even half as much as the next person, she knew he would not last long with Enel as his only cohort. He needed her, just as much as she needed him...unless a moment arose in which she could cast him aside.

In the meantime, those words left hanging, she deftly pulled her soiled shirt up and off her body in one fluid motion and let it pile on the floor. The smooth contours of her back were left in shadows as the glow of the fire couldn't quite reach. She, however, didn't care at all about his innuendo’s and implications, and ignored him henceforth by making her way to the smaller bed, kicking off her pants, and quite easily burrowing beneath the sheets.

Should the great and powerful Ganondorf choose to say words, the young woman would simply lift her middle digit high and let the symbol of fuck you be ample enough reply, with her back toward him. She wasn't one to break easy, even if he had a bit of light in his soul.

[Ganondorf]

Ganondorf stifled a wry chuckle as Eighteen had her tirade. The words flowed with nary an opening for rebuttal, not that the great Gerudo had anything to say in response. Oh, it wasn’t that he couldn’t rebut her claims, or explain the inconsistencies in her reasoning. It was just that she was doing such a good job at it herself, that there was no need. The woman jumped from topic to topic, in one moment nearly praising Ganondorf for his good qualities, and in the next calling him the scum of the earth. And he assumptions as to his dress… priceless. That she would wish to be treated as an equal, and then assume that he would hide himself from her as he would from a potential love interest; that was when he truly lost control and a soft laugh escaped.

As Eighteen stormed off to her bed in a huff, Ganondorf mused over to nature of women. Such beings were beyond understanding. Like fire, they were ever-changing and as quick to provide life as they are to snuff it out. The thought reminded the Gerudo lord of the still-lit torches in the room. A wave of his hand sent an unnatural wind through the room, snuffing the light and putting the room into a dim twilight. Not soon after, mind still contemplating his roommate with amusement, Ganondorf fell into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hot desert wind whipped blinding sand into Ganondorf’s eyes as he struggled against it. A sand storm of this magnitude he hadn’t encountered since his childhood. Somewhere deep inside, the Dark Lord knew something was wrong. This was, without doubt, the Gerudo Desert. His home, and yet not his home. He knew something had happened to him. That he shouldn’t be here. But where he was supposed to be was lost to him as surely as he was lost in this storm.

Ganondorf pressed on through the storm. When it was this bad, one could easily lose their way and be doomed to wander the desert until death, but waiting the storm out carried its own risks. Many who entered the desert from the outside thought the land to be dead, but the Gerudo knew that more than any other place, the desert was alive. And like all living creatures, it changed.

Instinctively, the Gerudo King knew that he was almost to where he needed to be. If he could conquer this storm, he would survive. That just ahead, there was a place of peace, where all his dreams would come true. But it wasn’t the storm which slowed his progress. Images, mirages, bombarded his senses from all sides, each more enticing than the next. A woman, blonde and fair, stood, obscured by sand, to his right. Her melodious voice called out for him to stop his journey. That to remain with her would be enough. That to be with her would be true happiness. Ganondorf pressed on.

A young boy, flame-haired and full of pride, was to his left. The boy pleaded with Ganondorf to go back. That this was the path of death and that all would curse him if he continued. Yet if he returned, he would be loved. Still, the Gerudo King pushed on through the storm.
Just ahead, a lad emerged from the wailing wind. Clad in green, this boy held a sword of light in his hand. There were no words spoken this time, yet Ganondorf knew this blonde adolescent meant to bar his rightful path. With a wordless snarl, he threw himself at the green-clad boy, who shattered like glass upon contact. Stumbling on the uneven sand, Ganondorf tumbled down the far side of the dune.

When he came to rest, Ganondorf knew he had made it to where he was meant to be. Grass spread out as far as the eye could see, and sun held no anger as it did in the desert. The light gurgling of a stream could be heard from a nearby forested thicket. All was well… until the laughter started. Flame spread out from the Gerudo’s feet, scorching the grass and setting the trees alight like torches. The stream boiled and hissed into steam on contact with this flame. And a man emerged from the smoke. Tall like Ganondorf, with an actually firey mane framing the face of a devil. Scaled skin showed wherever its clothing did not cover. This creature was the source of the laughter from before, and it still sounded off with its bass chuckle. Slowly, it moved towards Ganondorf, who stood rooted in place in part horror and part suspense. His body wanted to run, yet his mind was strangely at peace. As though it knew this would happen. And when the beast got to Ganondorf, it merely placed a massive hand upon his shoulder and spoke.

“Well done.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ganondorf woke with a start, sweat soaked sheets plastered to his bronzed skin. It was still before dawn, yet he knew that he would not be getting anymore sleep this night. Already his dream was fading into the fog of memory, but for those two words. Well done. As the man thought back on those words, images would flit through his mind. Sand. Grass. Fire. But nothing more would arise. Scowling invisibly in the dark, the Gerudo King rose and began dressing himself.

After dressing, Ganondorf left the room quietly. As the doors shut behind him, a soft voice from behind caused the Gerudo Lord to start.

“Anything I can help you with, my Lord?”

It was only Firani, his house mistress. When he shook his head, she began to leave, until he brought her back with a word.

“Wait.”

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Fetch me a quill and parchment, Firani. I’ll take them in the library.”

“Anything else, Lord?”

“A bite to eat, if you would.”

With a bow, the Gerudo woman left and Ganondorf made his way to his library. Stacks of books stood side-by-side in the cases along the walls. While not as impressive as some of the other libraries in this Omniverse, he was sure, it contained a wealth of knowledge about Hyrule. But, more importantly, it calmed his nerves to be in this place of learning.

In short order, Firani returned with his items, and Ganondorf began to write as he slowly nibbled on some hard bread and cheese.

“Eighteen,
Feel free to stay as long as you’d like. And feel free to change your accommodations in whichever way pleases you.
Ganondorf.”

As the Dark King finished his writing, signing and sealing the document with his personal seal, Firani returned with a couple of messages. Apparently, Deschain was waiting in the audience room to speak with him. Better yet, Mirage had found his way home and was now resting in the stables. Thanking the woman, Ganondorf handed her the document and gave her instructions to give it to Eighteen upon the woman awakening. Then, he left to meet with the emissary from The Town with No Name.

[Enel]

Enel scratched his nose. The palace was a hell of a lot more lustrous than he’d been expecting, but there was one major problem.

“Ganondorf,” he said. “Where are the bitches at?”

Ganondorf said nothing, as he was nowhere to be seen. Enel chewed irritably. Honestly, now that he was here, he was beginning to feel a little showed-up. Summoning a castle? That was … not something he could yet do. The moat of lava was … sick, yes. He had to admit that much. He crossed his arms with a harrumph.

Well, anything Ganon could do, Enel could do twice as good. He had but to try. The omnilium substance that Omni had described seemed to be the key to all the summoning hijinks. And he had some. With a pop that was more of a feeling than an actual sound, a globe of the rainbow stuff turned up in his hand. He took a moment to gaze into its swirling depths and appreciate its potential. With it, Omni had said, anything could be his. Getting his powers back would be just the beginning. He’d have his own castle. His own army. Perhaps with omnilium, he could even have his own world. Illusory, perhaps. But first things first.

Half an hour later, music filled the palace. A buffet was laid out, a full troupe of musicians plucked at guitars and harpstrings, and Enel lay cackling with his arms wrapped around the shoulders of two scantily-clad lovelies. “More wine!” he yelled, red-faced. A tall girl with scarlet hair appeared, smiling sweetly to deliver a decanter of the golden liquid.

“Would you like me to pour, your godliness?” she asked with saccharine sweetness.

“You may,” he crooned.

Enel tilted his head back and the redhead proceeded to pour it into his mouth. She kept going until the entire thing was empty. He gulped, swallowed, and then grinned madly. “Hahahaha! This is great!” He shook the women with the crook of his arms. “You ladies seem to know exactly what I want!”

“Yes …” smiled the closest one, a blonde whose mouth was covered with a translucent veil. “…We do.” She removed the veil.

“Oo! Hahahaha! Yeah!” Enel’s face turned into one of mad pleasure as his foot tapped the floor and his shouts echoed through the palace.

[Ganondorf]

“Lord Ganondorf?”

The words, uncharacteristically meek for the Gerudo woman, stopped Ganondorf at the library door and the man turned to face her in curiosity. The woman was dressed formally for a Gerudo; nearly transparent, billowing pink leggings draped her slender legs, moccasins of fine white leather adorned her feet. Her white blouse was form-fitting and embroidered in elegant Gerudo spirals and twists. On her forehead dangled a glacial blue gem. Firani wore them well, which wasn’t surprising as Ganondorf had summoned her as such. Everything about her was meant to be perfect, from her proud Gerudo nose, to her lithe, muscular form. Yet, it wasn’t her sensuality which startled her master at this time. Instead, it was the visible cues that spoke to her anxiousness about what she was to say; the lightly bitten bottom lip and her green eyes which wouldn’t quite meet his own.

Ganondorf made a motion for her to continue, and it seemed as though she had to drag the words out.

“I know it’s not my place to question you, my Lord, or to criticize your guests… but the man you arrived with…”

“Go on,” Ganondorf spoke into the pause.

“Well, I went to check in on him this morning and I found that he had gathered… well, some company. The troubadours aren’t as much of an issue as his…ladies.”

The way that last word was spoken, venom dripping and eyes glinting, gave Ganondorf more than enough to surmise as to the nature of these ladies. Placing a massive hand upon Firani’s slender shoulder, the King spoke softly to her.

“I don’t care for that type any more than you, Firani. But allies are crucial to our cause, and we’ve few enough without driving one off by questioning his outlander ways. We’re all strangers here, and it’s not for us to question the customs of another.”

When the woman sighed in disappointment, nodding ruefully, Ganondorf added, “However, once you’ve delivered my missive to the Lady Eighteen, I would like for you to deliver a message to this Enel as well. Respectfully, ask him and his musicians to accompany me in the audience chamber. Be careful with your words around him, dear. Egotistical and delusional he may be, but if he’s a Prime he possesses no little power. Once you’ve delivered him to the audience chamber, you may speak with his ladies about their circumstances. While I doubt they’ll be persuaded to regain their independence, it may do your heart some good.”

The nods from Firani this time was much more confident and she strode from the library with a bit more pep in her step. Ganondorf could understand her ire with the situation. In their land, women were respected. The Gerudo women were used to being in charge and being free. Still, it was as he said. Other lands had different customs, and it wasn’t to them to judge. At least, not until they had to power to enforce those judgements.

Giving Firani some time to find the Mock God, Ganondorf eventually headed for the audience chamber itself. The stone walls of his fortress comforted him as the echoes of his footsteps heralded his path through the castle. Mosaics and tapestries, vases and rich treasures lined the walls, adding to the grandeur. Soon enough, Ganondorf stood before the great wooden doors to the audience chamber. A moment, no more, to ensure that he was in proper majesty, and the giant of a man pushed the doors open and entered. Only one man waited within, a slight disappointment despite it being the Sheriff. Still, this man was what passed for power in these parts, so it was good to see he had deigned to meet Ganondorf in person.

[Eighteen]

Slender pain digits curled inward. The crinkled paper formed a tight little ball, no more important than a bit of trash. With no more than a sound in her throat, the girl tossed the discarded note onto the floor and listened to it roll to a stop against the tiled floor. Not one for company, not this morning, she had sent off the servant that has come to deliver the message. Eighteen had no desire to make friends or meet fictional beings in a land that wasn't real. If she was to be alone, then so be it.

“Change the accommodations? Sounds like someone is going away,” she said aloud, hands behind her head as she lay staring at the ceiling from her modest bed. It wasn't like his, and she didn't care, not really. She she did care about was having the upper hand. Ganondorf felt as if he were in control, calling the shots, and it got under her skin.

So she closed her eyes and envisioned a place that was home. A place that was made of metal and glass and was filled with the gentle hiss of hydraulic doors. Eighteen missed the days where she could endure high intensity gravity, combat imaginary foes, become the best that she could be. She missed the green fields, flying cars, and roaming dinosaurs that were known for being more as pests than as majestic relics.

In all of this, the girl knew her abilities, and so she did what she knew she was capable of. Her powers were gone, but if Ganondorf could warp reality, so too could she.

With little else to do, her mind worked with the metal frameworks of her most belovded abode – the Ragnarok headquarters. The room that had been Ganondorf's grand place of rest, soon became hers. The walls of stone were replaced with strong sheets of metal, impenetrable. A large window – with emergency metal cover above – showed the sky and rocks spreading outward outside. The floor became equal quality of metal, with gentle grip for walking. All tables and accessories were replaced with metal equivalents. The bed became of modern make, simple, and functional.

Gone, last, was the fireplace and the organ. The first was replaced by a large flat screen television that immediately began playing old fights from the last world championship. The second was replaced by a Foosball table, where she would often watch her fellow team mates play from time to time.

When Eighteen opened her eyes, it was with a smile. The memories has been as if living and breathing. Indeed, it was like stepping into her mind. She sat up on the bed and took in the large space. It was home...not exactly home, but close enough. The metal floor resounded with her steps. She opened a cabinet that had multiple clothing options. Everything was made for her, and she had no intentions of changing it back.

“Now, where does he think he's going?” she said to herself, after getting changed into a new outfit that was exactly the same as before.

Eighteen left the room, the door making an audible hiss. Everything else outside the room was made as he had created it, except the metal door. She made a beeline for the ground floor, intent on finding Ganondorf.

[Enel]

Enel awoke in a pile of tangled sheets and naked women. Literally; they were draped over one another. He blinked at the light filtering through the blinds and groaned, trying to cover his eyes but discovering that his arm was trapped under a girl. He yanked it out, emanating a soft sleeping noise from one of the courtiers, and covered his face. He clicked his tongue, dry as the Dunes themselves, and mumbled a curse.

I may have gone overboard, thought the god to himself. He felt sorry for himself for a while, his headache fuelling a growing irritation as he tried to put the pieces of the last day together. Was it really just a day? It felt like a lot longer, somehow. His brain was fuzzy. It was unbecoming of a God. His irritation grew, looking for a target. His mind settled on Omni.

It wasn’t right that Omni sat up there at Enel’s rightful place. Whatever the world, thought Enel, I am God. I should have my powers. My sceptre. My throne of gold.

He began to sit up, forcing his complaining muscles to obey. He stood up on the bed, nude, and tramped roughly through the sleeping girls, eliciting a few yelps which he ignored. He jumped to the ground and grabbed his gold staff, discarded on the floor like so much trash. He hissed through gritted teeth as he gripped it. I should be able to melt this metal and reform it like putty, he thought. The lightning as my body, the power of the heavens mine to command.

Angrily, he took the staff up and hurled it at the dresser. It shattered with a loud crash. He stood breathing hard and surveyed his destruction.

It was … pathetic. This was pathetic. Him, a god, reduced to sleeping with these mere harlots like a common king. Breaking furniture. Losing his temper.

He gathered his wits and tried to subdue his anger, doing his best to ignore the throbbing headache. He had to beat Omni, and it wouldn’t be like this. To beat Omni, he had to use his wits. His powers were gone and while he still had everything else, while he was still Enel, he was facing his opponent uphill right now.

Naked, he stalked out of the room, brooding as he strolled the hallways. He quelled his petty envy of Ganondorf’s magnificent palace – uniquely the Gerudo man’s own, a product of Ganondorf’s own history, culture and preferences – and focused on the task at hand.

Summoning. He kept coming back to that idea, planted there by Omni. He was aware that it was something Omni wanted him to do. Something Omni had – he grimaced – given him. Couldn’t it bring his lightning powers back? The thought stewed and mired. Would it? Fresh thoughts of himself blasting bolts of lightning from his hand filled the man’s mind, both the product of memory and imagination.

A cough came down the hallway. “Mr Enel,” came a voice he did not recognise.

Enel turned and saw a red-headed woman. Clad in the same, semi-transparent billowy pants that had inspired his courtiers’ clothing. He noted her figure, and then raised his eyes to hers in a glower that bespoke his impatience. “What do you want, girl?”

She coughed again. “You’re naked.”

“Mng?” He glanced down at his legs then back up at Firani. “Then avert your eyes, if the vision of a god is too bright for you. What do you want?”

Firani closed and opened her eyes extremely slowly, then looked at Enel with a blank expression befitting an attendant. “The Lord Ganondorf requests your presence in the audience chamber.”

Enel spat his next words. “What the hell does he think he wants with me?”

As Firani opened her mouth to respond, Enel cut her off with a furious look and another barrage of words. “Shut up, that wasn’t a question for you. Tell him I’ll be there when I’m ready. And when I find it. I’m busy right now.”

Firani’s expression looked very oddly blank, thought Enel. She spoke. “Very well.” She bowed shortly, turned and strode off very quickly.

“Odd woman.” Enel thought outloud. “Needs taming, though.” He stroked his chin, the slipper of a grin making its way onto his face before vanishing quickly. I need to focus on the task at hand.

He walked until he found an empty room, no windows, no distractions. Folding his legs, he sat down on the floor and exhaled. It was time to try.

Half an hour passed as his thoughts drifted back. Back to a place he didn’t like to revisit.

Once upon a time, Enel hadn’t known he was a god. He’d been a boy, on the verge of puberty, still not fully aware of his true power. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember. It was so long ago, now. Buried so deep.

The children had always been jealous of him. He saw them. Even the adults must have known something. They saw the divinity in his presence and they feared him. Rather than bowing to him, as should have been the right way, they marginalized him. Tried to keep him in ignorance of his own power. Perhaps they thought that if they trod him down enough, they could stop him. They never could, of course. Ascension had been Enel’s destiny from the very beginning. It just required the right key, to unlock.

Deeper. He remembered breathing heavy. So hard. The pain in his chest, the rasp of his own breath as he forced his legs on through the dense forest. He bled, his precious, divine lifeforce spilling to the dirt. Sacrilege at their hands. Pain lanced through Enel, but he went on.

The Skypiean ocean. Endless white sea-clouds had spread out before him. The spray stung his wounds. His small feet sunk into the wet sand, as behind him the voices grew louder. He turned to look, and backed further into the ocean. An object. Something in the water. He tripped backwards over it. Water in his eyes and mouth, choking, he pulled up, gasping, grabbing for leverage. His hand gripped the thing which he had tripped over.

It was big. Heavy. As big as his head. It looked like a fruit, but … alien. A dense bunch of grapes, bright blue, covered in strange patterns. It drew his eyes in. He opened his mouth and bit into the fruit. Bitter, but sweet. He relished it, devouring it with a voracity he’d never had before. As he finished it, he shivered away from the sea. Suddenly it repulsed him. He felt sick and angry. His fingers tingled with light, both hot and cold at the same time. Electric. Power.

This was his power?

He felt something strange at that moment. He felt something rise up around his hatred. Like a euphoria. That’s why they hated him, he realised. That’s why they feared him. Because they knew he was something more. He’d never been human, like them. The thought suddenly disgusted him, that he could be human like them. To have believed all along that they were … the same. Gross. Disgusting!

The feeling made his body heave and pulse, blue light arcing out from him. He fed the feeling, and knew then that it was him. He was lightning. He was heaven in the form of a man. His body pulsed between the colours of his skin and the lightning. He controlled it just the same as his arms and legs. He rose up to the sky as energy, a silhouette of light.

He surveyed the island below and judged them. All of them were guilty. His power reached up to the heavens as a great tempest. Then it fell.

Enel’s eyes snapped wide open in the palace. Lightning arced out from his body in every direction, wrecking the room.

He stood up, body still crackling with lightning. He would get all of his power back. And then he’d rule the universe. Not just this one.

Every one.

[Ganondorf]

The great wooden doors swung wide as the Dark Lord made his entrance, the well-oiled hinges making nary a sound. The main audience chamber was as grand as its creator. Mirrored-sconce adorned pillars ran down the length of the room, supporting a golden-domed ceiling and providing the room with a warm light. Over-stuffed chairs sat in from of the many fireplaces along the walls, between which bookcases held a wide variety of reading material. At the far end of the hall, a magnificent throne, all gold, mahogany, and rich satin, dominated the room upon its raised dais. Everything in the room seemed to draw the eye to that throne, and the man whom would sit upon it.

Closer to the door, the dark-haired Sheriff lounged in one of the chairs, idly flipping through one of the books. The gunslinger seemed more interested in passing the time than in reading the tome, his eyes focused on some middle distance past the words. Still, it didn't take the gruff man long to realize he was no longer alone in the hall. With more care than Ganondorf would have thought possible of the rough man, Roland needlessly marked his place in the book, set it onto the side table, and stood to greet his host. Crossing the distance between them, the Gerudo Lord gave his guest a bow of his head and motioned for the dusty Sheriff to retake his seat before seating himself across from the man.

[Ganondorf]

As the two men seated themselves, Ganondorf was pleased to see that Firani had already set a plate of delicacies out for them. Smoked meats, creamy cheeses, and soft breads adorned a platter that sat beside the book the Sheriff had just set aside. Along with the food, a silver pitcher of chilled wine sweated condensation onto the mahogany tabletop. It appeared that Deschain had already partaken of a few appetizers and the wine, from the empty places on the platter and the half-full golden goblet sitting close to his hand. The great Gerudo king graced his guest with a smile as he poured himself a drink, taking a sip before their talk began.

“Greetings, Sheriff. I hadn't expected you to grace my home with your presence. A pleasant surprise, sir. I hope everything is to your liking.”

The dusty man gave Ganondorf a grin of his own as he replied, “It's a nice place you got here, Ganondorf. And I guess that's why I came. The people back in town say that nothing happens in the Dunes without me knowing, and it'd be hard to miss the dragon swooping in from the gate, or the giant castle popping up overnight. They were curious, so I had to find out what you were up to.”

The dark-skinned giant chuckled as he bowed his head, “Of course. I suppose my presence is enough to affirm that I've completed your errand. I had planned to relay this information to you in town, once I had settled in, but your visit makes this unnecessary.”

The red-haired Lord of Demons caught his guest's eye before continuing, “While I was out doing this for you, I had time to consider why you had placed me on this mission to begin with. I doubt my actions have improved your standing with Camelot, in the slightest. Care to educate me on your thinking?”

For awhile, Roland said nothing, as if gathering his thoughts for what he needed to say.

“Truth be told, I just wanted you away while I had some friends look into you. They say, at the Nexus, you declined both Bradley's and Aragorn's offers to come with them. I can respect a man that wants to be free.”

“They also say that you and some green-clothed boy might have some history outside the 'Verse. From the reports, he claimed that you were evil.”

Ganondorf's chuckle returned and he raised his hands, “While me and the boy DO have animosity between us, I'm not nearly the villain he makes me out to be. He holds a grudge for my actions in our home, and he's a bit naive.”

The Gerudo sighed before continuing, putting on airs of regret, “While I have no excuse for what I did, I will say that it was necessary. The boy didn't understand because he only say the death left in my wake.”

Neither man spoke for awhile after this, each merely partaking of the snack tray and drink, and lost in their thoughts.

[Ganondorf]

The silence didn't last long before the large Gerudo spoke again, looking into the bare fireplace as he did so.

“I assume you didn't come here merely to marvel at my castle, or tell me of your look into my past... what do you require of me, Sheriff?”

It took a moment for Roland to answer, possibly an effect of the silence after Ganondorf's revelation. Speaking of death in such a casual way can cause any man to hesitate when in the company of the speaker.

“Truth be told, pal, in the Dunes we're reliant on supplies from Coruscant to survive. But, the supply caravans keep getting raided by bandits. We're running low on medical supplies, among others. I can't supply the entire town by myself. I was hoping you might keep an eye on those supplies until they get here.”

“I would like to offer you a deal, Mr. Deschain.”

Ganondorf turned his jade eyes towards the man as he continued, meeting the fellow's own gaze.

“Here, at my keep, I have a small village in place. Compared to your town, the defensive potential of this location is far greater. Additionally, I have better access to water, a far greater necessity in the desert than any defense. And, I offer you independence. You mentioned that you respected a man who wished to be free. Yet, it seems you've become shackled to Coruscant for your survival. I can offer a way to free yourself from those chains. I return, I'll guard your supply train. Seems to be a fair trade to me, one you lose nothing by taking-”

“Except I'll just be trading the shackles of Coruscant for yours, Ganondorf. I ain't so stupid to have missed that,” the Sheriff pointed out.

Hands raised in an effort to put Roland's worries at ease, Ganondorf addressed his concerns, “With all my travels, how would I be able to shackle anyone, my friend? You'd have full control of this area when I was away, and things would be much the same as they are now.”

The Dark Lord rose from his seat, pacing the marble floors as he continued, “Of course, there would be some changes. We'll need ranching and agriculture of our own if we're to survive without the yoke of Coruscant. Additionally, the laws will need to be more strict, in order to protect the people efficiently. But, nothing I do would happen without your approval, good sir.”

“And what of that death in your wake? Once you move on, will we simply be bodies to you?”

The larger man shook his head in response to his seated companion, “No. But, I doubt any reassurances from me will sway your mind. Instead, seek out the boy. Link. He'll likely still be in Camelot, after the bruising I gave him. He knows more about me than any in the Omniverse. Most of what he'll relate will likely show me in a poor light, but perhaps this act of trust, of me telling you where to find my enemy, will begin to bridge the gap between us.”

At that time, Roland took his feet as well and the two exchanged a warm handshake before heading for the great doors.

[Enel]

Enel strode through the corridors of the great castle, his smile glimmering in the torchlight. Even in this illusion, Omni could not contain his powers for long. How could he? True power always beat that of any pretender. Enel’s lips creaked open to reveal shining teeth, which parted in a laugh.

“Hehe … heh … ya! Hahahaha!”

He threw his hand forward and blasted a stream of electricity at the door before him, blasting it off its hinges. He continued on, without breaking his stride, into the main entrance chamber. Ganondorf was waiting, regarding him with dark eyes and closed lips.

“Enel …” he began slowly.

The God flipped a hand casually in Ganondorf’s direction, then hopped down the steps into the chamber proper. He spread his arms wide. “So what’s going on, Ganon baby?”

“I must insist …” said Ganon, “That you do not wilfully damage my palace.” His eyes flashed. “Ever.”

“Heuh.” Enel’s smile dropped to a dark glower. “Mind your place, mortal.”

Ganondorf took a step forward, eyes narrowed. “Need I remind you, Lord …” As the Gerudo spoke, his voice began to take a drastic change from its usual calm tone. “… That you are a guest in MY home?” The last few words were almost shouted.

Enel balked. He’d not expected such insolence from one who'd been so deferential to him thus far. He reflected for a quiet moment. Perhaps I’ve been careless, he thought.

Then he snapped back to reality. Careless? Such things didn’t apply to him. He was God. All others bowed to him. It had been eight years since anyone had ever spoken down to him and gotten away with it. That never changed, he reminded himself.

His eyes lit up and sparks danced across his naked torso. “I!” he announced. “AM!”

He threw his hand forward. “GOD!”

[Enel]

Lines of electricity blasted outwards and into Ganondorf’s body. The Gerudo doubled over in pain, eliciting a laugh from Enel. Then something unexpected happened. With a struggle, the King stood up.

And he punched Enel in the face.

The god flew backwards, turning in the air and hitting the floor face first, tumbling across the pristine marble. He sensed the incoming danger and flipped backwards as something demolished the floor where he’d laid a moment before.

Enel hopped backwards until he hit a wall, glowering. “You’re not so weak, eh Ganondorf?”

Ganondorf reared up, his fist smoking with dark power. “Or perhaps it is you that is not so powerful, Enel.”

“Keh.” Enel opened a palm and charged up a bolt. He noticed a glimmer in his adversary’s eyes. Fear? He grinned and let loose.

In a motion almost too quick to catch, Ganondorf flipped his cloak around, into the path of the oncoming projectile. It bounced right off his cape and straight back towards Enel.

Before the god could so much as smirk, the bolt exploded against him, slamming him back into the nearby wall. “Impossible!” he croaked. “But it’s my … I’m … it’s …”

“This world,” said Ganondorf, “Does not follow the rules you are accustomed to. You may either deny it …” He brought a hand up and glanced at it, as though inspecting his fingernails. “… Or adapt.”

He closed his hand into a fist and slammed it into Enel’s stomach, drawing sparks forth. The god doubled over, sinking to the ground. Ganondorf stood over him.

“What’s it going to be?”

Enel looked up. His mind was a blank. He had no answer. Not to the man. Not to this situation.

“Tch.” Ganondorf turned and took a few steps away. He gave Enel a few moments before speaking again. “If you wish to remain in my palace, you will respect the walls. You will respect my vassals –” He turned and fixed Enel in the eyes. “– And you will respect me.”

Enel looked at the awaiting Gerudo. His eyes darted up and down.

This Ganondorf had shown him kindness.

He’s using you

When nobody else had.

This world is an illusion. He’s using you. He’s Omni. This is all Omni. This is all an illusion

Without even knowing Enel’s legend, his power …

You’re God. The only God

Enel’s mouth opened in a cry that became a scream. After several agonizing seconds it ended abruptly. He stood and met eyes with the Gerudo, thrusting a finger forward.

“You … what is your power?”

Ganondorf’s lip curled. “Do you wish to know?” he whispered. “Do you wish to know the real truth?”

“I won’t ask again.”

“Hm.” Ganondorf’s gaze rose. He regarded the murals on the wall and his eyes took on a glossy edge.

[Ganondorf]

Ganondorf accompanied Roland from the audience hall, the two exchanging shallow pleasantries as the walked. They entered the main entrance chamber of the castle, and while it was less decorated than the room they had recently vacated, the sheer size of it spoke of wealth and power. It also lent itself well to echoes, which alerted the men to an approaching presence long before they were able to spot it. A smile crept across Ganon's face as the lithe blonde woman approached him, and he began to bend himself in a bow.

>WHAP!<

The force of Eighteen's blow, combined with Ganondorf's surprise at the attack sent the Demon Lord to a knee and watered his eyes. Shock was washed away in a red flood of rage, a flood which drowned out the woman's words. Roland looked on nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with a sun-darkened hand.

“Uh... Well, I'll think over your gracious offer, Ganondorf...”

The tall Gerudo slowly made his feet, his eyes dark with fury as he stared down at his blonde companion. As he did so, the Sheriff beat a hasty getaway, eager to be away from what seemed like a lover's quarrel. Eighteen stood before Ganon, jabbing her finger at his chest as she spoke, and though her unheard words were calm, her eyes spoke of anger and resentment. None of that mattered.

With a snarl of unbridled aggression, the red-haired king took hold of Eighteen by the lapels and lifted her from her feet; which were left dangling feet from the floor.

“You struck me...” the Gerudo growled, pulling her close until their noses touched. “In my own home...”

Ganondorf spoke slowly, emphasizing each word as if speaking to a simpleton. Perhaps he was.

“You fail to recognize your place in this relationship, woman. If you wish to stay here, you will treat me with the respect due to a gracious host. If you wish to live, you'll not lay your hands on me again.”

Though the snarl had left the tall man's face, and the darkness faded from his eyes, his words flowed forth even more frighteningly than if he had screamed them.

“Seems I've given you more leeway than you deserved. Perhaps I was foolish to place my trust in you so early. So, you'll need to learn a lesson. FIRANI!”

The shout wasn't particularly necessary, considering the qualities of the room, and the fact the Gerudo woman had been watching the confrontation from not far away, but Ganondorf was at his patience's edge. The red-haired head-mistress approached her Lord without fear, though, and watched calmly as Ganondorf released Eighteen, who landed more gracefully than one would have thought, considering her silent shock at Ganon's words.

“Take her to the servants' quarters. Teach her our ways. I will only lay eyes on her again when you think she's ready. Do you understand?”

His servant nodded solemnly, moving forward to guide Eighteen out and Ganondorf turned from them. Eighteen shouted something at him, but the Dark Lord refused to acknowledge it. Until she was ready, he wouldn't see her as an equal. Just as the woman left the room, an explosion rocked the chamber and with it left the last of Ganondorf's patience.

[Ganondorf]

Images from Ganondorf's childhood passed through his mind as he viewed the grand images hanging from the walls. The murals each depicted a significant part of the Gerudo's life, drawing the sun-darkened man to regale this 'god' with his epic climb to godhood himself. After all, he had been born to rule; born to strength; born for greateness. The weight of his years pressed down on Ganondorf as he contemplated Enel's words. Though the Triforce of Power kept him young and in his prime, nearly a decade had passed from the time he'd acquired the relic until his imprisonment. And in that timeless void called the Sacred Realm, it was impossible to know just how many more years had passed in the real world.

To the dark lord, it felt like an eternity since he was that young Gerudo boy, just learning of his destiny. But more than that, to tell this man of his history... perhaps once the strange god had proven himself. With a grand sweep of his cloak, the cloth flung wide to the side, Ganondorf turned on his heel and locked his jade gaze upon Enel.

“Power?! What do you know of power?” the King scoffed, shaking his head slightly. A hand rose before him, engulfed in dark energy like flame. “You see this and you think I have power?”

The desert-man snorted in derision, flinging his hand to the side as if covered in filth.

“And your parlor tricks with the lightning, you think this is power? I'd have thought a God more intelligent than that.”

Enel snarled at Ganondorf, his fists balling in anger and eyes flashing. The hair on Ganon's arms rose as the very air around Enel became charged with his indignation.

“Shut up! Just answer my question!” the god roared, his face twisted as though fighting some internal struggle. Ganondorf grinned. It was obvious the man had never truly had someone of power stand up to him before, let alone out-power Enel so handily. The Gerudo dropped his head and sighed, impressing the obviousness of what he was about to say.

“What is my power, you ask? My 'power' isn't in my dark magicks, nor my impressive strength. It's not even in my relic-infused being. True power is being able to make the whole world agree with what they truly believe in their hearts to be wrong. True power is having people who would be willing to lay their lives down at your word, and not because they have to. But because, deep down in their soul of souls, they WANT to.”

Ganondorf sighed again, this time infusing the sound with all the disappointment that he felt.

“I had power like this once,” the Gerudo offered, finishing with a wry chuckle. “And I gave it up for mere strength. My desire to attain the Triforce was my undoing. My impatience with the speed of my plans ruined me.”

His head raising to look Enel in the eye once more, Ganondorf continued, “And despite all the strength this Omniverse has sapped from me, what I miss most is that power. Do you understand, Enel?”

[Enel]

Enel scratched his nose as the cogs turned and the smirk slowly inched back onto his visage. “Interesting,” he said. “But wrong.”

“Power,” he said, emphasizing his point with a raised finger, “Is when you don’t need to lie. Playing politics, pulling strings, putting on a false face … that’s for those who are too weak to simply rule. With true power, you don’t need to lie. I have true power,” he said, raising a fist.

Ganondorf listened with his arms crossed. “By the looks it, you don’t.”

Enel scowled. “Perhaps not here.” His expression changed on a dime, taking on a dark smile. “What I’m interested in is your ‘tri force’. It sounds like you had true power, but perhaps …” and he chuckled smugly, “Perhaps you weren’t strong enough to wield it.”

Ganondorf’s fingers tightened into fists, and he made to say something, but Enel spoke again first.

“You have power. And while I do not approve of skulking around in the shadows, it … perhaps suits you.” He flashed another cheshire grin. “As long as you know when it’s time to use that strength of yours, I can respect a man like yourself. Sometimes a silver tongue it can be useful.”

“As can a blade,” said Ganondorf.

The two men each took slow, casual steps forward, gradually closing the space that had been so filled with tension.

Enel broke the silence. “I want my own wing of the castle. We share power. For now.”

Ganondorf seemed to consider this amusing.

“Well?” demanded the God. “How about it?”

“How about this?” said Ganondorf. “When you can stand against me, we share power. Until then …”

The warlock’s body began to shudder, and his grin warped inhumanly. Enel took a quick step back as Ganondorf’s legs grew, sending spider-webs through the delicate floor of the palace. His arms crashed down as forelegs, his red hair extending into a thick mane that covered his back as two gigantic tusks pierced forward through his jaw.

Enel stood before the Dark Beast Ganon and felt a quickening of his soul. An appreciation for this power … and a jealousy. A deep thirst like never he’d felt before. Losing his power was maddening. Getting it back was imperative. More than ever.

Arcs of electricity danced around his body. Not enough. Not yet.

[Enel]

Enel walked through the corridors of the castle, heart pumping. It had been a long time since he felt … jealousy. It unbecame him. More tricks of Omni’s, no doubt, more misdirections … he couldn’t give into it. He’d bring his full strength back, he’d double his power in a week. No, triple it! But there’s no way he’d let himself be bullied by some … illusion. That was all Ganon had to be. Just a smaller part of the greater farce.

His fingers sparked and then he thought better of punching the floor. He had to play the game, for now. Loath it as he might, he’d been trapped. He’d been scored a point against, and now he was down for the first round. But he would recover, he would grow stronger even than he’d ever been, and he would torture Omni until his burnt eyes popped from their sockets. Behind the enigmatic silhouette, Omni was probably some fat nerd playing out his childhood fantasies with some silly devil fruit power. Like every power, it had to have weaknesses. Enel would find them and exploit them.

Instead of wanton destruction, the One True God settled for leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Despite his obvious inferiority compared to Enel, the white god was no doubt the strongest opponent Enel had ever faced. Nobody had ever bested him since his ascension. Defeating him might be an interesting challenge. The God only wondered what was happening in the outside world in his absence. Was Skypiea lamenting? Whipped up into anarchy? Or up in arms, searching for him right now? Perhaps it would take not even a few days for them to find the Pretender and break his spell. That is, of course, if Enel himself hadn’t beaten the pasty little shit to a pulp before then.