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Description
The King of the Gerudos stood over the shackled black-haired man that was held in the dungeon cell.  The King was almost too pleased to see the prisoner scoot away from him upon his appearance; heavy spell-enchanted chains clanking on their rings and links.  The cell had no doors or windows since it was below the ground and with the chains, the prisoner held no hope for escape.  There was no source of comfort in this three-sided room, not even food or drink.  The dungeon was dark and dry; the only light coming from wall torches some distance away down the corridor.

“I know what you are,” the King declared softly.

The black-haired man looked silently up at the male Gerudo through his bangs.

“No opposition?  No shock?  Intriguing.”

The King folded his hands behind his robed back; adjusting his stance ever-so-slightly in a more dominate way to show his authority.  The Gerudo was wearing both a mix of tightly fitting battle leather and ragged fabric under his dusty desert robe.  Daggers in crescent jeweled scabbards hung from the thick belt, but the prisoner wasn’t in the least bit intimidated by them.

“I have read much lore on your kind: The Wraiths,” the King continued simply, “but never once did I ever dream that I’d live to see one.”

The wraith remained silent and motionless.  His hands were shackled behind him, as were his ankles before him.  He didn’t even twitch as one of the King’s large hands wrapped about the hilt of one of his daggers, pulling the slightly curved blade from its protective sheath; the battle song of steel ringing in the still air.

The King leaned down and placed the flat side of the blade underneath the prisoner’s chin; sharp edge licking dangerously at the soft flesh as the metal forced the wraith to lift his head and look at the Gerudo.

“Your bodies built tall…lean…slender…elegant.”

The wraith still failed to show any fear or interest in the threat against his throat.

“Yet you are given the appearance of the Hylians.  As you can tell…this greatly interests me.”  The King stopped sliding the blade around underneath the prisoner’s chin and stood tall once more; returning the non-bloodied blade to its scabbard.  With an unpleasant grin, the Gerudo King folded his arms behind his back once more and started to pace before the chained man.  “Now…I have decided what I am going to do with you as punishment.”

“For the last time, I didn’t do it.”  Those were the first words he had said since his capture.

“Heh.  Even complete with a sense of humor,” the Gerudo chuckled disbelievingly. “If so, I’d like to see you try to disprove what I myself saw…but you can’t do that…”  He stopped pacing before the prisoner who lay on his side; bound like a common pig.  “…Can you?”

The wraith’s eyes dropped and looked to the side, away from the King.

A soft chuckle.  “I thought as much.”

The wraith glanced up as he heard the Gerudo King move about on the dusty stone; heavy boots scraping against the loose pebbles of the flagstones.

“For your own sake of common knowledge, I am Ganondorf.  The King of the Gerudos.  Remember it well.”  He tossed back the sides of his desert robe that had fallen about his body so it was now draped behind him.  “And I will be the master of your destiny.”

The wraith simply watched without a word for he had nothing to say to the King.

“Firstly, now that you are in my possession, your identity no longer exists.  Your old life if gone.  You own and are nothing.  From now on, you are to be called Dark Link and so will be your name until your final day.  And secondly…”

Ganondorf reached up to his forehead and dislodged the bright gold gem from the bezel of the chained headpiece.  He approached Dark Link and knelt down and held the faceted jewel above the wraith’s forehead.

“I’m sending you to prison until further notice.”

With two strong fingers and thumb, the Gerudo King pushed and held the gem hard against the prisoner’s pale skin until his red eyes rolled in their sockets and Dark Link’s world went black.

Ganondorf rose above the pitiful form of the unconscious wraith; a hexagon-shaped imprint indented in his forehead.  The Gerudo man softly clipped the gem back into his head piece with no more than a faint ‘click’.  Without a word, the man turned in the flutter of his robe and disappeared down the corridor; extinguishing the torches and leaving the dungeon in complete, dusty darkness.

Description
The King of the Gerudos stood over the shackled black-haired man that was held in the dungeon cell.  The King was almost too pleased to see the prisoner scoot away from him upon his appearance; heavy spell-enchanted chains clanking on their rings and links.  The cell had no doors or windows since it was below the ground and with the chains, the prisoner held no hope for escape.  There was no source of comfort in this three-sided room, not even food or drink.  The dungeon was dark and dry; the only light coming from wall torches some distance away down the corridor.

“I know what you are,” the King declared softly.

The black-haired man looked silently up at the male Gerudo through his bangs.

“No opposition?  No shock?  Intriguing.”

The King folded his hands behind his robed back; adjusting his stance ever-so-slightly in a more dominate way to show his authority.  The Gerudo was wearing both a mix of tightly fitting battle leather and ragged fabric under his dusty desert robe.  Daggers in crescent jeweled scabbards hung from the thick belt, but the prisoner wasn’t in the least bit intimidated by them.

“I have read much lore on your kind: The Wraiths,” the King continued simply, “but never once did I ever dream that I’d live to see one.”

The wraith remained silent and motionless.  His hands were shackled behind him, as were his ankles before him.  He didn’t even twitch as one of the King’s large hands wrapped about the hilt of one of his daggers, pulling the slightly curved blade from its protective sheath; the battle song of steel ringing in the still air.

The King leaned down and placed the flat side of the blade underneath the prisoner’s chin; sharp edge licking dangerously at the soft flesh as the metal forced the wraith to lift his head and look at the Gerudo.

“Your bodies built tall…lean…slender…elegant.”

The wraith still failed to show any fear or interest in the threat against his throat.

“Yet you are given the appearance of the Hylians.  As you can tell…this greatly interests me.”  The King stopped sliding the blade around underneath the prisoner’s chin and stood tall once more; returning the non-bloodied blade to its scabbard.  With an unpleasant grin, the Gerudo King folded his arms behind his back once more and started to pace before the chained man.  “Now…I have decided what I am going to do with you as punishment.”

“For the last time, I didn’t do it.”  Those were the first words he had said since his capture.

“Heh.  Even complete with a sense of humor,” the Gerudo chuckled disbelievingly. “If so, I’d like to see you try to disprove what I myself saw…but you can’t do that…”  He stopped pacing before the prisoner who lay on his side; bound like a common pig.  “…Can you?”

The wraith’s eyes dropped and looked to the side, away from the King.

A soft chuckle.  “I thought as much.”

The wraith glanced up as he heard the Gerudo King move about on the dusty stone; heavy boots scraping against the loose pebbles of the flagstones.

“For your own sake of common knowledge, I am Ganondorf.  The King of the Gerudos.  Remember it well.”  He tossed back the sides of his desert robe that had fallen about his body so it was now draped behind him.  “And I will be the master of your destiny.”

The wraith simply watched without a word for he had nothing to say to the King.

“Firstly, now that you are in my possession, your identity no longer exists.  Your old life if gone.  You own and are nothing.  From now on, you are to be called Dark Link and so will be your name until your final day.  And secondly…”

Ganondorf reached up to his forehead and dislodged the bright gold gem from the bezel of the chained headpiece.  He approached Dark Link and knelt down and held the faceted jewel above the wraith’s forehead.

“I’m sending you to prison until further notice.”

With two strong fingers and thumb, the Gerudo King pushed and held the gem hard against the prisoner’s pale skin until his red eyes rolled in their sockets and Dark Link’s world went black.

Ganondorf rose above the pitiful form of the unconscious wraith; a hexagon-shaped imprint indented in his forehead.  The Gerudo man softly clipped the gem back into his head piece with no more than a faint ‘click’.  Without a word, the man turned in the flutter of his robe and disappeared down the corridor; extinguishing the torches and leaving the dungeon in complete, dusty darkness.