nature versus nurture (merik) (fin)

[Nairore]

x x

Nairore looked down at the hilt to her scimitar. It didn't look any different, but knowing his hands had been on it just a moment ago made her want to scrub it clean. Surely this feeling will pass, or else traveling with this man would be nearly unbearable. Then again would she want that feeling to pass? Growing attached was something she didn't do, and if she allowed it to happen this time it could be fatal. She fully intended to kill Merik when the time came. But for now she would have to live with him, to bear him.

She took the weapon and deftly swung it over her shoulder and into its snap sheath, designed specially to allow her to pull the weapon from her back with ease. A lot of her equipment was designed specially, as she intended to be as efficient as possible. She was trained in many different weapon types, but the scimitar was her most preferred. Next was unarmed combat, though that was a different story all together, as weaponry didn't play in there.

He gave her a deadline and asked for her name. Nairore took pride in the name her father had given her. His own devotion had led him to naming her after two of the three Goddesses, Nayru and Farore. She loathed the thought of her name being defiled by Merik's tongue, but it was a necessary cost for the ultimate goal. "Nairore," she said simply. "And my sword is Naurlambe."

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[Merik Dragmire]

"Very well Nairore, just do me a favor and don't get killed within the next two days. I would hate to think I've wasted my time here tonight." Merik said as he watched her sheath her blade once more.

He cracked his neck and gave the girl a final look before turning and walking off. He only got a few feet away before he realized that he had no idea where the Gerudo encampment was in relation to their current location.

"Damnation, where in blazes is that camp...!?" he growled under his breath before decided to retrace his steps and begin his search for the camp.

[EXIT]

[Nairore]

x x

Two days to tell her father she was going on a pilgrimage? Two days to tell him she was running off with a mysterious stranger to train? Two days to reconsider the entire thing? No, she wouldn't reconsider. Her path was laid out clearly before her and the only obstacle left in the way was the talk with her father. Zenethil was an understand man, he knew that she needed a trainer, he would understand. At least that's what she was telling herself as she watched Merik Dragmire wander off into the darkness.

She felt unclean, like she had just made a pact with the devil. She stood in that spot for a long moment as his words from their fight ran through her head. His points had ground, but she refused to believe them. She knew the truth, she knew the Knights were in the right. They didn't slaughter innocents. Nor did her father take her in just to watch her squirm under the Knights, to make her feel inferior, or to train his own Knights with Gerudo finesse.

Though she had to question now why her blood was dirty. She had grown up cursing it, her father telling her it wasn't her fault she wasn't born a Hylian. She had grown up thinking herself below them despite her own aptitude for kicking their ass. Perhaps the answer actually lay there. She could beat the best the Hylian Knights had to offer. In a straight sword fight she could even best her father, though in general combat he was by and far better because of his magic. Yet here the Gerudo King had shown her that she could still be better.

Dark and haunting thoughts circled Nairore's mind as some part of her took the reigns and steered her back to where her tent was, in the Knight's camp.

Was that truly where she belonged?

[EXIT and FINISH]

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[Nightmare Darklight]

Rewards given. Thread locked and moved.