Chapter 1: Merry New Year
Today was the first of Hyra: the first day of the first month of the tenth year since Calamity Ganon’s defeat, a day forever immortalized as the accursed holiday known as New Year’s Day.
As soon as he woke up that morning and looked at the leather-bound schedule book that he kept on his nightstand, Ganondorf Dragmire realized that he made a grave error.
Today of all days, the King of All Evil had a therapy session.
As Ganon dragged himself out of bed and started his morning routine, he wondered if it would be too late to cancel his appointment. After all, it was six in the morning and his session did not begin until one in the afternoon. He knew that that feathered chatterbox would be dropping off his mail at promptly seven o’clock, so it would be nothing to just write a letter explaining how he caught sight of the calendar…
But as stupid as Ganon was for allowing a naked, tweaked-out 16 year-old defeat him, he was not stupid enough to miss his appointment. He did not feel like dealing with having all the Princess’s men bearing down on his ass just because he felt like playing hooky. Then again, getting dogpiled by 20 armed guards and then berated by Zelda was leagues ahead of what he would have to go through if he showed his face in Hyrule on this day.
If he dared.
But he was Ganondorf Dragmire, King of Thieves and Scourge of Hyrule Castle; he dared all, and he would be damned by the Divine if he allowed a bunch of unwashed Hylians stop him from seeing his doctor. With the confidence that only a megalomaniacal tyrant could have, and while wearing his favorite cape, Ganon sauntered out into the sunrise.
“All right Ganon, you know the drill: on the wall, feet apart.” Ganon sighed wearily and complied to the border guard’s instructions, putting his hands up against the gray stone bricks of the city’s protective wall and widening his legs. The guard, even while decked out in all his armor and the large feather on his helmet was like a child compared to Ganon’s hulking 7’6” frame. Ganon could barely suppress a snort when the guard had to break out the ladder. “Is there a problem?” the guard said, trying his best to sound intimidating. Ganon shook his head. “No problem here, sir.” The whole procedure took three minutes. After ten years, he was searched by every guard in the rotation, so they all knew by now what had to be done. Even though Ganon never had anything on him, at least they all finally understood that that was, in fact, his penis. Well, mostly. “Are you sure you’re not part-Lynel?” the guard joked as he indiscriminately grabbed Ganon’s nethers. Ganon would not give this rather handsy guard the satisfaction of a physical reaction, but he could not help himself from starting just a bit of trouble. “It’s quite funny that you mention that,” he said. “Your wife was wondering the same thing.” He just smirked as he allowed the now red-faced guard to shove his back up against the wall and press the tip of his broadsword to his throat. “You disgusting pig!” the guard shouted. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t gut you like one?” Ganon reached over and put the guard’s blade in between his fingers. With a sharp flex of his wrist, the weapon snapped in two. The guard turned pale and immediately released the giant. Without a word, he just waved him through. “Have the princess send the bill to my home,” said Ganon as he walked on. Just before disappearing through the gates, he stopped and turned to the guard. “And tell Elonie that I said hello.”
If Ganon had to describe Central City, he would like one would describe a decaying corpse: unsightly with a horrible stench and filled to the brim with maggots. Well, perhaps that was a bit too harsh, even for him. The unsightly part, at least. The city was very well constructed in his eyes, which was a feat considering it was rebuilt in less than three years. The masonry had not changed much from when Hyrule was first constructed all those millennia ago, but it worked to make the place look like the epicenter of wealth and prestige that it liked to think it was. The city reminded him of when he first visited Hyrule when he was just a young man trying to save his dying race. There were people from all over the world trying to make a living in various ways, from the various stall-merchants found in the bustling market place to the working girls who hid in back alleys and dark corners. Brick-and-mortar businesses of varying sorts lined the roads leading all the way up to the castle, promising all manner of ways to make the harsh city life just a little easier. As he passed through the crowded streets, at least 15 brave souls tried to sell Ganon something in time for the night’s festival. The New Year’s Festival, also known as “How Big Can We Get Away With Making Ganon’s Effigy Before The Government Is Forced to Reclaim It As A Fire Hazard” and “How Drunk Can We Get While We Do It” Night, was the main reason why Ganon did not want to come in today. On a normal day, Ganon did not have much by way of negative interactions with the townsfolk. After ten years, the people were mostly used to his presence. He did get stares as dark-green, almost black-skinned people with fiery red hair, a sharp, pointy nose, and a gigantic stature often do, and he was normally given a wide berth wherever he walked. But today, the townsfolk got bold. Whether it was the fact that today was the day that he was defeated by the Champion, or because of the copious amounts of alcohol consumed on this day, hardly a moment went by where people did not hurl slurs and epithets at him or try to pick a fight. The children threw rocks at him, the youth jeered, the women wept at the sight of him, and the men shook their fists. Oh Din, how he wanted to kill them all. Yes! Kill them! Make them see the error of their ways and destroy them! Let the chaos reign! Take your rightful place as my champion once again! Ganon sighed, thinking that he should probably keep that to himself. After nearly strangling a woman for throwing a raw egg at his precious red cape that he had since time immemorial, Ganon finally made it to his doctor at 12:45 pm. While the exterior betrayed the fact that it was a little white house with a blue roof tucked in between two larger homes on Crowned Lane, one would never know it from the interior. The bedroom was used to take patients while the study was converted into the doctor’s office. The living room became the waiting area and the kitchen the receptionist’s office. “I’m here for my one o’clock,” said Ganon mechanically. The receptionist, a small slip of a middle-aged Hylian woman who always had her straight brown hair pulled back into a bun, did not even bother to look up at him from her work. “You’re early,” she said. “As always,” Ganon replied. The receptionist just slipped him a sheet of paper. Ganon signed his name as he did many times before, making sure to keep his signature as closely in the lines as possible. “Take a seat; Dr. Moonchild will be with you shortly,” said the receptionist. “Thank you,” said Ganon. Before he went to join the other terrified patient in the waiting room, he added, “Any plans for the day?” The receptionist scoffed, “Fat chance of that. Not only am I stuck in here for the day, but my husband has to work tonight! Did you really need to have an appointment today?” “You know that it’s not up to me, Sila,” said Ganon with as much sympathy as he could muster. “I must go to every session that is scheduled for me as per the conditions of my freedom.” The receptionist known as Sila just shook her head and motioned for Ganon to take a seat, clearly not in the mood for chatter. As he sat in the only seat in the room that was obviously meant for him, he noticed that the other patient had moved his chair to the other side of the room. Ganon just unfurled one of the complimentary newspapers that were kept on the table for those waiting. He did not normally read the Hylian Post as he was a Hyrule Daily-man himself, but it never hurt to keep up with varying opinions every once and a while, even if coming from a rag. “Ganondorf?” said a voice, just as Ganon had gotten halfway through an admittedly entertaining article about whether or not Princess Zelda was secretly the love child of such and such, and if so, did it mean that she had no legitimate claim to the throne. He looked up to see that Dr. Moonchild was waiting for him. Dr. George Moonchild was a man that Ganon would not have normally respected. He was short, even for a Hylian, standing at only 5’2” tall. He was quite young for a doctor; his round, clean-shaven face and slick, bright red hair that rivaled Ganon’s own consistently betrayed his youth. He was always immaculately dressed in a professional black tunic with matching slacks and loafers, even though he was not that kind of doctor. His thin, blue-framed spectacles were always hooked onto the front of his tunic, only ever pulling them out when it was time for him to read. It did not take Ganon long from their first meeting to realize that the good doctor was an idealist. He almost immediately agreed to take Ganon on as his patient, and Ganon long suspected that Dr. Moonchild probably would have even if the former-tyrant had not offered to pay the man five times his normal rates. The doctor truly seemed to believe that Ganon could be rehabilitated to walk among the very society he destroyed countless times before. If there was nothing else that Ganon could respect about Dr. Moonchild, it would have been his sheer audacity. Ganon rose from his seat and went to shake the doctor’s hand, and Dr. Moonchild did not shy away from offering as firm a handshake as he could manage, even as his hand was completely engulfed by his largest patient’s. “Thank you for coming, I know today wasn’t the most convenient for you,” he said with an apologetic smile that revealed the dimple in his left cheek. “Just take a seat and I’ll be with you in just a short moment.” Ganon obeyed and took a seat on the cotton-stuffed sofa that was meant for the patients. He noticed that the cushions had been recently changed, no doubt from the strain he had been putting on them. The sofa was still going strong, even after seven long years of use, but the poor cushions hardly ever lasted longer than two Goddess months and a season. The patient’s room, or the Secret Room as Dr. Moonchild liked to call it for some unheavenly reason, was plain yet pleasant. The walls were an eye-pleasingly soft blue, the same color as the roof. All the furniture was made from solid oak; expensive, but always an appropriate choice for most décor. Everything that could be accented was in blue, from the carpet to the cushions to the curtains to the table cloth that adorned the desk at which the doctor sat. Even the slippers that Ganon had to wear to protect the carpet were blue. It all made him wonder if blue was the man’s favorite color. “Ok, so sorry about that,” said Dr. Moonchild as he suddenly entered the room. He closed the (blue) doors and sat in his usual chair at his desk. “Once again, thank you for coming today; I’m sure you wanted nothing more than to skip it, and yet here you sit.” “You know me too well, doctor,” said Ganon evenly. Dr. Moonchild smiled as he broke out his black book of patient notes. “This is our first meeting after 60 days. How have you been fairing on the new schedule?” “Quite well,” said Ganon. “I never felt any urgent desire to see you.” “I’m offended,” said the doctor, and then chuckled at his own joke. Ganon just smiled politely. “In all seriousness, that’s wonderful,” said the doctor. “I’ve been confident about you for quite some time now, and as I’ve been telling Her Highness, I believe that you no longer need me quite as much as you did before. Of course, I still believe you need support, hence why you must continue to see me, but hardly more than a few times a year.” Ganon nodded. “I personally feel the same, but as you and I know, my feelings ultimately don’t matter.” “Firstly, your feelings do matter,” said Dr. Moonchild. “Secondly, as far as Her Highness’s opinions go, she’s wary as always, but she did allow this. I believe that as long as you don’t tell me anything too wild today, she’ll continue to give you your space.” Ganon raised an eyebrow incredulously at that. “Wild?” Dr. Moonchild chuckled once again. “By that, I just mean that as long as you don’t have anything to say along the lines of you having killed a man, or that you’re thinking of destroying Hyrule tomorrow morning, you should be alright.” “Of course, that would be ridiculous,” said Ganon, his face plain. “I am thinking of destroying Hyrule tonight.” The smile ran from Dr. Moonchild’s face. Ganon continued, “It would be rather easy, and I’m sure I could get away with it, too. I’m confident that no one would bat an eyelash at the city burning to the ground after tonight’s festivities. Of course, it would be a tragedy, but who would realize I’d done it with all the drunken pyromaniacs running about?” “That’s–” Dr. Moonchild began, but Ganon held up a hand to interrupt him. “That was a joke,” he assured his doctor. Dr. Moonchild gave him a skeptical look. “I’m not entirely sure it was.” “Honestly, doctor, you’ve known me for seven years now. I figured by now you’d know my unique brand of humor.” “I do. However, I’ve known you long enough to know that your jokes are often pregnant with subtext.” “I’m not sure how that could be. My jokes have never landed with anyone.” Dr. Moonchild grimaced as the King of All Evil snickered at his own joke. “I’m serious, Ganondorf,” he said. “Are you feeling frustrated with your life? After all, you’ve menaced Hyrule since time out of mind, and now you’re subject to its rule. I’m sure that’s rather frustrating.” Ganon sank back into the sofa and glared at his doctor. “No, what’s frustrating is that my minions are morons. What’s frustrating is that my home might have termites. What’s frustrating is that I have to listen to my courier prattle on about things I don’t give a shit about, just so I can get my morning paper. But what you just described? What you just described is maddeningly infuriating.” He unhooked his cape and showed off the egg-stain. “Do you see this? This is the shit that I have to deal with all the time, and frankly, I’m quite fucking fed up with it if you can excuse my language.” Dr. Moonchild said nothing as his patient continued. “I know that I deserve much worse fates,” Ganon admitted. “I know I do, and I accept that. However, there are hardly any fates worse than being constantly needled by people who could never be on your level, even if they had a thousand lifetimes to do it. I have walked this wretched land since the days of yore and I have brought whole kingdoms to their knees. At one point, I even managed to kill the Hero of Legend, and I nearly wiped out his entire line. And yet, here I am, Dr. Moonchild, forced to smile and simper and bow before common gutter trash who would see me dead even if I wasn’t the Calamity because they are racist, xenophobic, cloistered sarasalatrava!” Dr. Moonchild blinked. “I– I’m sorry. Not to interrupt but…cloistered what?” “It’s an Ancient Gerudo insult that has no true Hylian equivalent,” Ganon explained. “Though I suppose you could liken it to one who is not worth the shit beneath your shoes.” “Fair enough,” said Dr. Moonchild. “Well, I’m truly sorry that you feel that way. Have you been dealing with such feelings for long?” “I deal with it every time some cheeky border guard grabs my something and makes a tired joke about it,” said Ganon, his eyes no longer focused on the doctor. “I deal with it every time someone spills their drink on me and insist that it was an accident. I deal with it every time the baker tries to overcharge me for bread, and every time I hear ‘dirty sandcrawler’ in the crowd. Every forced smile, every hard stare, every rude gesture. And I must deal with it even more whenever this fucking day comes around.” He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “But it doesn’t matter,” he continued. “It doesn’t matter because, in the end, all of you will be dead, and I’ll still be alive, and the cycle will continue on and on forever because nothing actually matters.” Dr. Moonchild looked at his patient utterly dumbfounded, and Ganon was not so sure as to why he seemed so surprised. It was not as if he had not expressed similar sentiments before. Or was this one of those sentiments that he had been meaning to keep to himself? Even though ten years was just a blink of an eye compared to the numerous lifetimes he had lived, he still had trouble keeping track of just how he was supposed to be. “But other than that, life’s been rather good to me,” Ganon said quickly. “I’m still on my archeological projects. I just recently restored an Ancient Gerudo ceremonial vase that was used to store the ashes of a loved one until it came time to return them to the sands. I believe it belonged to a warrior of distinction; I’ll bring it next time if you are curious. Also, I still regularly talk to Link whenever that fool gets around to visiting. So, all in all, I’m doing alright. There’s no need to worry, doctor.” “I’m not worried about you returning to your old habits, Ganondorf,” said Dr. Moonchild. “Believe it or not, I am thoroughly invested in your well-being as both a professional and someone who cares about you, and I fear that all of this is taking its toll on you mentally.” “Are you trying to imply that you think I might be insane?” Ganon asked. “Not at all,” said Dr. Moonchild. “But I do believe that you need the company of others. Now before you say anything, please understand where I’m coming from. I fear that all the negativity that you receive is having an adverse effect on you. Let’s not get into whether or not you deserve it; that’s hardly the point. What is the point is that you need some positivity, a fresh new perspective on life through positive and meaningful interactions with others.” “I see,” said Ganon. “You’re trying to tell me that I need some friends.” Dr. Moonchild smiled and clapped. “Exactly! I’m glad you understand my poi–” “Where do you expect me to find these mythical creatures?” Ganon interrupted. “Oh, Ganondorf, don’t think that way,” said Dr. Moonchild. “I’m sure that–” “No offense, doctor, but the only way I’m going to find a friend is if the Goddess Herself rains one down from heaven onto my front porch,” said Ganon. “Let us be realistic: my best friend is the Champion of Hyrule, also known as the man who killed me and saved the world from destruction. I am also on somewhat friendly terms with the Princess of Hyrule, enough for her to vouch for me and allow me to live even though every nation on the continent is clamoring for my blood, and yet that is not enough for people to fear me less. Who in this world would ever take the time to get to know me?” “I did, did I not?” Dr. Moonchild countered. “And if I was willing, then statistically there are dozens if not hundreds of others willing to do the same. It’s all about putting yourself out there. Obviously, you wouldn’t approach someone who looks hostile or afraid, but that also shouldn’t keep you from talking to people who might be open to you. For example, you live right across from the Riverhead Stable, yes?” “It’s actually the Wetland Stable,” said Ganon. “But I would rather die than to speak to them.” “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” “Hardly. And even if it was, everyone there wants about as much to do with me as I them. It had gotten to the point where I had to pull my mare out of the stable and bring her home because I got sick of them complaining about all the business they were losing due to my living close by.” Dr. Moonchild sighed. “I understand what you’re trying to say, Ganondorf, I really do. But for the sake of your health, I truly believe that having a support group beyond just myself, Sir Link, and Her Highness will do you a world of good. In the meantime, do you need us to go back to weekly appointments?” “I don’t doubt the validity of what you’re saying,” said Ganon. “I’m just trying to make you understand how impossible it is. As far as weekly appointments go, no. I wasn’t just trying to deflect when I said that I was doing alright. I’ll be fine, doctor.” Dr. Moonchild looked his patient over for a brief moment before nodding. “Alright, Mr. Dragmire. I’ll yield for now. If that’s truly the case, I’ll schedule you for the second of Autona. I know that’s longer than 60 days, but I’ll be on vacation for the last two weeks of the month, and the first is a Darkday. Is that alright with you?” Ganon also gave a short nod. “That is perfectly fine by me.” He stood to his feet. “Thank you for seeing me as always, Dr. Moonchild.” “It’s a pleasure,” said the doctor as he too rose from his seat. “Just let Sila know. And remember, if there’s an emergency, you can come see me any time.” “Of course,” said Ganon. “Enjoy your New Year’s.” After shaking Dr. Moonchild’s hand, Ganon made his way back to the receptionist’s office, relieved that it was all finally over. Just as Sila penciled in his next appointment after taking his check, the doctor suddenly called out to him. “Thank Hylia I happened to be looking through my notes after you left!” he exclaimed as he rejoined Ganon’s side. “I had almost forgotten to tell you that Her Highness asked for you to see her straight away after your appointment.”
“All right Ganon, you know the drill: on the wall, feet apart.” Ganon sighed wearily and complied to the border guard’s instructions, putting his hands up against the gray stone bricks of the city’s protective wall and widening his legs. The guard, even while decked out in all his armor and the large feather on his helmet was like a child compared to Ganon’s hulking 7’6” frame. Ganon could barely suppress a snort when the guard had to break out the ladder. “Is there a problem?” the guard said, trying his best to sound intimidating. Ganon shook his head. “No problem here, sir.” The whole procedure took three minutes. After ten years, he was searched by every guard in the rotation, so they all knew by now what had to be done. Even though Ganon never had anything on him, at least they all finally understood that that was, in fact, his penis. Well, mostly. “Are you sure you’re not part-Lynel?” the guard joked as he indiscriminately grabbed Ganon’s nethers. Ganon would not give this rather handsy guard the satisfaction of a physical reaction, but he could not help himself from starting just a bit of trouble. “It’s quite funny that you mention that,” he said. “Your wife was wondering the same thing.” He just smirked as he allowed the now red-faced guard to shove his back up against the wall and press the tip of his broadsword to his throat. “You disgusting pig!” the guard shouted. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t gut you like one?” Ganon reached over and put the guard’s blade in between his fingers. With a sharp flex of his wrist, the weapon snapped in two. The guard turned pale and immediately released the giant. Without a word, he just waved him through. “Have the princess send the bill to my home,” said Ganon as he walked on. Just before disappearing through the gates, he stopped and turned to the guard. “And tell Elonie that I said hello.”
If Ganon had to describe Central City, he would like one would describe a decaying corpse: unsightly with a horrible stench and filled to the brim with maggots. Well, perhaps that was a bit too harsh, even for him. The unsightly part, at least. The city was very well constructed in his eyes, which was a feat considering it was rebuilt in less than three years. The masonry had not changed much from when Hyrule was first constructed all those millennia ago, but it worked to make the place look like the epicenter of wealth and prestige that it liked to think it was. The city reminded him of when he first visited Hyrule when he was just a young man trying to save his dying race. There were people from all over the world trying to make a living in various ways, from the various stall-merchants found in the bustling market place to the working girls who hid in back alleys and dark corners. Brick-and-mortar businesses of varying sorts lined the roads leading all the way up to the castle, promising all manner of ways to make the harsh city life just a little easier. As he passed through the crowded streets, at least 15 brave souls tried to sell Ganon something in time for the night’s festival. The New Year’s Festival, also known as “How Big Can We Get Away With Making Ganon’s Effigy Before The Government Is Forced to Reclaim It As A Fire Hazard” and “How Drunk Can We Get While We Do It” Night, was the main reason why Ganon did not want to come in today. On a normal day, Ganon did not have much by way of negative interactions with the townsfolk. After ten years, the people were mostly used to his presence. He did get stares as dark-green, almost black-skinned people with fiery red hair, a sharp, pointy nose, and a gigantic stature often do, and he was normally given a wide berth wherever he walked. But today, the townsfolk got bold. Whether it was the fact that today was the day that he was defeated by the Champion, or because of the copious amounts of alcohol consumed on this day, hardly a moment went by where people did not hurl slurs and epithets at him or try to pick a fight. The children threw rocks at him, the youth jeered, the women wept at the sight of him, and the men shook their fists. Oh Din, how he wanted to kill them all. Yes! Kill them! Make them see the error of their ways and destroy them! Let the chaos reign! Take your rightful place as my champion once again! Ganon sighed, thinking that he should probably keep that to himself. After nearly strangling a woman for throwing a raw egg at his precious red cape that he had since time immemorial, Ganon finally made it to his doctor at 12:45 pm. While the exterior betrayed the fact that it was a little white house with a blue roof tucked in between two larger homes on Crowned Lane, one would never know it from the interior. The bedroom was used to take patients while the study was converted into the doctor’s office. The living room became the waiting area and the kitchen the receptionist’s office. “I’m here for my one o’clock,” said Ganon mechanically. The receptionist, a small slip of a middle-aged Hylian woman who always had her straight brown hair pulled back into a bun, did not even bother to look up at him from her work. “You’re early,” she said. “As always,” Ganon replied. The receptionist just slipped him a sheet of paper. Ganon signed his name as he did many times before, making sure to keep his signature as closely in the lines as possible. “Take a seat; Dr. Moonchild will be with you shortly,” said the receptionist. “Thank you,” said Ganon. Before he went to join the other terrified patient in the waiting room, he added, “Any plans for the day?” The receptionist scoffed, “Fat chance of that. Not only am I stuck in here for the day, but my husband has to work tonight! Did you really need to have an appointment today?” “You know that it’s not up to me, Sila,” said Ganon with as much sympathy as he could muster. “I must go to every session that is scheduled for me as per the conditions of my freedom.” The receptionist known as Sila just shook her head and motioned for Ganon to take a seat, clearly not in the mood for chatter. As he sat in the only seat in the room that was obviously meant for him, he noticed that the other patient had moved his chair to the other side of the room. Ganon just unfurled one of the complimentary newspapers that were kept on the table for those waiting. He did not normally read the Hylian Post as he was a Hyrule Daily-man himself, but it never hurt to keep up with varying opinions every once and a while, even if coming from a rag. “Ganondorf?” said a voice, just as Ganon had gotten halfway through an admittedly entertaining article about whether or not Princess Zelda was secretly the love child of such and such, and if so, did it mean that she had no legitimate claim to the throne. He looked up to see that Dr. Moonchild was waiting for him. Dr. George Moonchild was a man that Ganon would not have normally respected. He was short, even for a Hylian, standing at only 5’2” tall. He was quite young for a doctor; his round, clean-shaven face and slick, bright red hair that rivaled Ganon’s own consistently betrayed his youth. He was always immaculately dressed in a professional black tunic with matching slacks and loafers, even though he was not that kind of doctor. His thin, blue-framed spectacles were always hooked onto the front of his tunic, only ever pulling them out when it was time for him to read. It did not take Ganon long from their first meeting to realize that the good doctor was an idealist. He almost immediately agreed to take Ganon on as his patient, and Ganon long suspected that Dr. Moonchild probably would have even if the former-tyrant had not offered to pay the man five times his normal rates. The doctor truly seemed to believe that Ganon could be rehabilitated to walk among the very society he destroyed countless times before. If there was nothing else that Ganon could respect about Dr. Moonchild, it would have been his sheer audacity. Ganon rose from his seat and went to shake the doctor’s hand, and Dr. Moonchild did not shy away from offering as firm a handshake as he could manage, even as his hand was completely engulfed by his largest patient’s. “Thank you for coming, I know today wasn’t the most convenient for you,” he said with an apologetic smile that revealed the dimple in his left cheek. “Just take a seat and I’ll be with you in just a short moment.” Ganon obeyed and took a seat on the cotton-stuffed sofa that was meant for the patients. He noticed that the cushions had been recently changed, no doubt from the strain he had been putting on them. The sofa was still going strong, even after seven long years of use, but the poor cushions hardly ever lasted longer than two Goddess months and a season. The patient’s room, or the Secret Room as Dr. Moonchild liked to call it for some unheavenly reason, was plain yet pleasant. The walls were an eye-pleasingly soft blue, the same color as the roof. All the furniture was made from solid oak; expensive, but always an appropriate choice for most décor. Everything that could be accented was in blue, from the carpet to the cushions to the curtains to the table cloth that adorned the desk at which the doctor sat. Even the slippers that Ganon had to wear to protect the carpet were blue. It all made him wonder if blue was the man’s favorite color. “Ok, so sorry about that,” said Dr. Moonchild as he suddenly entered the room. He closed the (blue) doors and sat in his usual chair at his desk. “Once again, thank you for coming today; I’m sure you wanted nothing more than to skip it, and yet here you sit.” “You know me too well, doctor,” said Ganon evenly. Dr. Moonchild smiled as he broke out his black book of patient notes. “This is our first meeting after 60 days. How have you been fairing on the new schedule?” “Quite well,” said Ganon. “I never felt any urgent desire to see you.” “I’m offended,” said the doctor, and then chuckled at his own joke. Ganon just smiled politely. “In all seriousness, that’s wonderful,” said the doctor. “I’ve been confident about you for quite some time now, and as I’ve been telling Her Highness, I believe that you no longer need me quite as much as you did before. Of course, I still believe you need support, hence why you must continue to see me, but hardly more than a few times a year.” Ganon nodded. “I personally feel the same, but as you and I know, my feelings ultimately don’t matter.” “Firstly, your feelings do matter,” said Dr. Moonchild. “Secondly, as far as Her Highness’s opinions go, she’s wary as always, but she did allow this. I believe that as long as you don’t tell me anything too wild today, she’ll continue to give you your space.” Ganon raised an eyebrow incredulously at that. “Wild?” Dr. Moonchild chuckled once again. “By that, I just mean that as long as you don’t have anything to say along the lines of you having killed a man, or that you’re thinking of destroying Hyrule tomorrow morning, you should be alright.” “Of course, that would be ridiculous,” said Ganon, his face plain. “I am thinking of destroying Hyrule tonight.” The smile ran from Dr. Moonchild’s face. Ganon continued, “It would be rather easy, and I’m sure I could get away with it, too. I’m confident that no one would bat an eyelash at the city burning to the ground after tonight’s festivities. Of course, it would be a tragedy, but who would realize I’d done it with all the drunken pyromaniacs running about?” “That’s–” Dr. Moonchild began, but Ganon held up a hand to interrupt him. “That was a joke,” he assured his doctor. Dr. Moonchild gave him a skeptical look. “I’m not entirely sure it was.” “Honestly, doctor, you’ve known me for seven years now. I figured by now you’d know my unique brand of humor.” “I do. However, I’ve known you long enough to know that your jokes are often pregnant with subtext.” “I’m not sure how that could be. My jokes have never landed with anyone.” Dr. Moonchild grimaced as the King of All Evil snickered at his own joke. “I’m serious, Ganondorf,” he said. “Are you feeling frustrated with your life? After all, you’ve menaced Hyrule since time out of mind, and now you’re subject to its rule. I’m sure that’s rather frustrating.” Ganon sank back into the sofa and glared at his doctor. “No, what’s frustrating is that my minions are morons. What’s frustrating is that my home might have termites. What’s frustrating is that I have to listen to my courier prattle on about things I don’t give a shit about, just so I can get my morning paper. But what you just described? What you just described is maddeningly infuriating.” He unhooked his cape and showed off the egg-stain. “Do you see this? This is the shit that I have to deal with all the time, and frankly, I’m quite fucking fed up with it if you can excuse my language.” Dr. Moonchild said nothing as his patient continued. “I know that I deserve much worse fates,” Ganon admitted. “I know I do, and I accept that. However, there are hardly any fates worse than being constantly needled by people who could never be on your level, even if they had a thousand lifetimes to do it. I have walked this wretched land since the days of yore and I have brought whole kingdoms to their knees. At one point, I even managed to kill the Hero of Legend, and I nearly wiped out his entire line. And yet, here I am, Dr. Moonchild, forced to smile and simper and bow before common gutter trash who would see me dead even if I wasn’t the Calamity because they are racist, xenophobic, cloistered sarasalatrava!” Dr. Moonchild blinked. “I– I’m sorry. Not to interrupt but…cloistered what?” “It’s an Ancient Gerudo insult that has no true Hylian equivalent,” Ganon explained. “Though I suppose you could liken it to one who is not worth the shit beneath your shoes.” “Fair enough,” said Dr. Moonchild. “Well, I’m truly sorry that you feel that way. Have you been dealing with such feelings for long?” “I deal with it every time some cheeky border guard grabs my something and makes a tired joke about it,” said Ganon, his eyes no longer focused on the doctor. “I deal with it every time someone spills their drink on me and insist that it was an accident. I deal with it every time the baker tries to overcharge me for bread, and every time I hear ‘dirty sandcrawler’ in the crowd. Every forced smile, every hard stare, every rude gesture. And I must deal with it even more whenever this fucking day comes around.” He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “But it doesn’t matter,” he continued. “It doesn’t matter because, in the end, all of you will be dead, and I’ll still be alive, and the cycle will continue on and on forever because nothing actually matters.” Dr. Moonchild looked at his patient utterly dumbfounded, and Ganon was not so sure as to why he seemed so surprised. It was not as if he had not expressed similar sentiments before. Or was this one of those sentiments that he had been meaning to keep to himself? Even though ten years was just a blink of an eye compared to the numerous lifetimes he had lived, he still had trouble keeping track of just how he was supposed to be. “But other than that, life’s been rather good to me,” Ganon said quickly. “I’m still on my archeological projects. I just recently restored an Ancient Gerudo ceremonial vase that was used to store the ashes of a loved one until it came time to return them to the sands. I believe it belonged to a warrior of distinction; I’ll bring it next time if you are curious. Also, I still regularly talk to Link whenever that fool gets around to visiting. So, all in all, I’m doing alright. There’s no need to worry, doctor.” “I’m not worried about you returning to your old habits, Ganondorf,” said Dr. Moonchild. “Believe it or not, I am thoroughly invested in your well-being as both a professional and someone who cares about you, and I fear that all of this is taking its toll on you mentally.” “Are you trying to imply that you think I might be insane?” Ganon asked. “Not at all,” said Dr. Moonchild. “But I do believe that you need the company of others. Now before you say anything, please understand where I’m coming from. I fear that all the negativity that you receive is having an adverse effect on you. Let’s not get into whether or not you deserve it; that’s hardly the point. What is the point is that you need some positivity, a fresh new perspective on life through positive and meaningful interactions with others.” “I see,” said Ganon. “You’re trying to tell me that I need some friends.” Dr. Moonchild smiled and clapped. “Exactly! I’m glad you understand my poi–” “Where do you expect me to find these mythical creatures?” Ganon interrupted. “Oh, Ganondorf, don’t think that way,” said Dr. Moonchild. “I’m sure that–” “No offense, doctor, but the only way I’m going to find a friend is if the Goddess Herself rains one down from heaven onto my front porch,” said Ganon. “Let us be realistic: my best friend is the Champion of Hyrule, also known as the man who killed me and saved the world from destruction. I am also on somewhat friendly terms with the Princess of Hyrule, enough for her to vouch for me and allow me to live even though every nation on the continent is clamoring for my blood, and yet that is not enough for people to fear me less. Who in this world would ever take the time to get to know me?” “I did, did I not?” Dr. Moonchild countered. “And if I was willing, then statistically there are dozens if not hundreds of others willing to do the same. It’s all about putting yourself out there. Obviously, you wouldn’t approach someone who looks hostile or afraid, but that also shouldn’t keep you from talking to people who might be open to you. For example, you live right across from the Riverhead Stable, yes?” “It’s actually the Wetland Stable,” said Ganon. “But I would rather die than to speak to them.” “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” “Hardly. And even if it was, everyone there wants about as much to do with me as I them. It had gotten to the point where I had to pull my mare out of the stable and bring her home because I got sick of them complaining about all the business they were losing due to my living close by.” Dr. Moonchild sighed. “I understand what you’re trying to say, Ganondorf, I really do. But for the sake of your health, I truly believe that having a support group beyond just myself, Sir Link, and Her Highness will do you a world of good. In the meantime, do you need us to go back to weekly appointments?” “I don’t doubt the validity of what you’re saying,” said Ganon. “I’m just trying to make you understand how impossible it is. As far as weekly appointments go, no. I wasn’t just trying to deflect when I said that I was doing alright. I’ll be fine, doctor.” Dr. Moonchild looked his patient over for a brief moment before nodding. “Alright, Mr. Dragmire. I’ll yield for now. If that’s truly the case, I’ll schedule you for the second of Autona. I know that’s longer than 60 days, but I’ll be on vacation for the last two weeks of the month, and the first is a Darkday. Is that alright with you?” Ganon also gave a short nod. “That is perfectly fine by me.” He stood to his feet. “Thank you for seeing me as always, Dr. Moonchild.” “It’s a pleasure,” said the doctor as he too rose from his seat. “Just let Sila know. And remember, if there’s an emergency, you can come see me any time.” “Of course,” said Ganon. “Enjoy your New Year’s.” After shaking Dr. Moonchild’s hand, Ganon made his way back to the receptionist’s office, relieved that it was all finally over. Just as Sila penciled in his next appointment after taking his check, the doctor suddenly called out to him. “Thank Hylia I happened to be looking through my notes after you left!” he exclaimed as he rejoined Ganon’s side. “I had almost forgotten to tell you that Her Highness asked for you to see her straight away after your appointment.”
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