While I Waited

Alone

I have taught you as much as I can.  You will do well.  Do not follow me.

I frowned at Impa's last words, then looked up at the dusty plateau spread before me.  "Not well enough," I said.  Impa saw stories in a patch of discolored sand, a bent leaf.  She could count the number of merchants who'd passed a road by running her hand over the ground, and tell where each of them went, how far they'd gone.  

Impa could only be a few hours gone, but I hadn't a clue which direction.

I looked down at the letter.  No return date.  Do not follow me.   Was this some new test?  But of what?  Patience?  Tracking?  Obedience?

The wind rose from the west, bringing sand, but no answers.

I guess I'll just have to find some.  

___

Impa had taken Bolt, our gray stallion, so I had to walk the six hours to the nearest town, Jakaar.  The sun was high in the sky, and I shielded my eyes from the glare coming off the great round adobe walls.

"Amas, Sheik!" cried the sentry.  Bhash came running from her post, impossibly long legs kicking up dust.  Her hair was as red as the crimson sash at her waist, and it was pulled back in a braid long enough to tuck in there.  "Where is your tiha?" Bhash put her broad nose right up to mine, green eyes searching grey.  "Em, no! She hasn't left you, has she?  And she stole the horse, too?!  We'll set this right!"  And she pulled me in to a hug so fierce I had to tense to avoid cracked ribs.

I'd lived among the Gerudo for three years now - I knew their customs.  I did not reciprocate the hug, only endured it til it passed.  "Impa held the title, no me.  There will be no hunt today."

Bhash shook her head as she gave the day's rhythm on the city door.  "You allow too much, Sheik.  You do not need to stand so short."  The door opened.  "Well, if we will not ride for justice, let us drink to a new tiha, and let the wine wash away the old ber!"

I held in a snort.  If that's what Bhash thought had been going on in their little hut... "Hold your post, Bhash.  Perhaps we will talk in the evening."  And I proceeded through the little tunnel in the wall, which the Gerudo called the Eye of the Needle.

Gerudo cities were legendary even as far as Hyrule, their jewels and fabrics sold at kingly prices, but the tales, spread by men who knew nothing but the dull white outside, could not begin to capture the splendor and dizziness of the true thing.  I passed out of the shadow of plain adobe and into a world of color, from the dyed slate under my feet, to the kaleidoscopic clotheslines fastened on either side, to the city mural up ahead, which buried the word Jakaar under so many palm fronds, elephants, peacocks, and rainbow waterfalls that it was hardly recognizable.  It was only habit that safely brought me from the eye-wrenching displays to the common room of The Ankle Bell, which at least kept its decor to shades of blue and brown.

"Amas, Sheik!  Where is your tiha?" asked Ephora when I took a seat at the bar.  I blew a sigh.  Was that all these people saw of me, my Impa shadow?

"Gone hunting Leevers," I said, easily, having rehearsed the story on my walk.  "I want a surprise for her when she gets back.  Any tips?"

Ephora nodded sagely as she passed me a tankard.  "Binjali's got some fine bracelets out from the ivory harvest last month.  But no, Impa doesn't do jewelry, does she?  Perhaps a new set of knives, then, from Rei?"

I shook my head.  "Impa's pretty attached to her knives.  I don't want to replace something she has; I want to get her something new, something useful, and something unique.  And cheap, of course."

Ephora threw back her head.  "You want the impossible!"

I nodded, then leaned forward.  "I want magic."

The barlady's eyes widened, but I didn't let her draw away.  "I hear there's a Great Fairy not far from here."

Ephora glanced around, then nodded.  "It's true. But it's across the Hungry Sands. Your tiha will not like the gift of your death."

"I won't die if I know the right path," I insisted.

"You think that is the only danger?  The Great Fairy is a being beyond human understanding.  It blesses whom it blesses, and even the blessings kill those unworthy."

"Do you think I'm unworthy?" I asked, and, in the moment, realized I couldn't answer it myself.

Ephora stared long and hard into my eyes, weighing.  "I do not know," she said finally, drawing back.  "As I said, the Fairy is beyond our ken.  What you seek is too dangerous."

"Yet I seek it still," I said, getting up.  "I will go, with or without direction.  Peace favor you."  I turned for the door.

Not two steps from the building I felt a hand on my shoulder.  Ephora looked down at me.  "Your spirit is strong, brighter now that it is free from your tiha's shadow.  I'll not see your spirit lost to the sands if I can help."  

She pressed an ivory tube into my hands.  "This scroll shows the path to the Fairy's Cave.  But there are dangers beyond the swallowing sands.  Take care, Sheik."

I pocketed the scroll and pressed three fingers to my lips in the Gerudo gesture of thanks.  

"Come home, Sheik, with your own gift.  That will be enough for me, and for any tiha worth her braid."