Marth's stance was poised and relaxed as he turned to face his competitor for the evening, a miniature green scaled reptile with a red shell and boots to match. He spun around once, chasing his tail before striking a pose for the crowd. The audience cheered as Yoshi's battle music blared and his image was displayed across the big screens. From edge to edge, the vast stadium had a full house, a rare event in the Smash Stadium, but not rare at all whenever the Altean prince participated in a match. From the other side of the battle platform, Falchion in hand, the Prince executed his Taunt, slashing his sword skillfully through the air as he recited his signature line. The crowd let out a deafening roar in response to the Altean's appearance.

"I do not know what it is, but taunting always drives the crowd insane." Marth glanced at the crowd, smiling to himself as his battle theme took over the loud speaker. Cheers erupted from both sides of the stadium as the Altean prince turned to give Yoshi a more dangerous smile.

The stadium announcer's voice boomed over the ever rambunctious crowd, beginning the countdown to the chaotic fight. "3! 2!"

"Come at me," Marth taunted.

"1!"

His blue eyes blazed, "if you can."

"FIGHT!" …And the match began.

Clouds of dust whipped up as both took off towards each other at blinding speed, colliding at the center of the stage. Yoshi sprung up and forcefully lashed out with his tail, only to connect with air. Mid-back flip, Marth threw his head back and laughed as he landed gracefully on his feet. The Falchion sliced through the air and hit home, sending Yoshi soaring backwards. Marth swept his Persian blue bangs to the side and readied himself with a defensive stance. The swordsman waited for the exact moment as a smile began tugging on the edges of his mouth.

"YOSHII!" At blinding speed, Yoshi catapulted a green spotted egg at Marth, b-lining straight for his chest. Marth's palm slammed into the dirt and performed a sharp pivot, missing the egg by meer inches. The prince's eyes followed the egg as it spun into its own demise and broke on contact with the ground. "Not bad," he mused. Within milliseconds, Yoshi appeared on his right and attacked with a kick was immediately combated by Marth's counterattack, falling right into the trap the swordsman had set up." You have fought valiantly, but I believe this is where we part." The edges of the Altean's lips upturned one last time, as he retaliated and sent Yoshi flying through the air. With cat-like speed, Marth raced after the suspended Yoshi and lept forward. He clashed with Yoshi head on as he delivered a downward strike that sent Yoshi plummeting out of bounds with a streak of light. Marth jumped midair and grabbed the edge of the Final Destination platform, hoisting himself up with ease. He stood up and took his position in the center of the stage, slowly lifting his sword skyward. The Falchion gleamed in the stadium lights as the crowed roared, screaming Marth's name, making him look every bit the Prince of Altea. The announcer's voice ruled over the stadium once again.

"AND THE WINNER IS… MARTH!"

Marth stood alone on his balcony, as he often did after a match. The balcony always seemed to have a very calm air about it that did more to rest him than any bed. He looked around at the scenery: the garden down below, a usually cheery place, now looked gloomy with a dull gray sky looming over it. Moments later, water droplets began to fall, creating a fine mist that clouded the land. It hardly rained at the Smash Mansion, and when it did, Marth had no reason to miss it. He stood unmoving, feeling the cold rain engulf his body. The droplets grew louder and heavier as they thrummed down and pelted the land. It reminded him of home, when he used to sit alone and watch the storms. They were more consistent and a better friend to him than any of his gold digging, so-called friends. Marth stiffened a bit as resentment unfurled deep in his chest towards the people he once knew, and clenched his fists.

"I have all I need here." He stated curtly, closing his eyes to forget what he once knew.

In time, the frigid water chilled his body, attacking his skin and turning it raw. Marth awoke from his daze cast by the rain when he remembered his Falchion was waiting on the table in his room. He should be training, he thought to himself as he walked out of the calming rain. He grabbed a towel folded neatly on the table and began drying his drenched hair and attempting his dripping clothes. There was no use, and Marth took off everything but his boxers. He started soundlessly shuffling through his dry clothes when the Marth heard a noise coming from his door. Instinctively the swordsman grabbed Falchion, which was waiting on the table, and stalked towards his door. As he stalked towards the door, he felt an unexpected breeze. Marth looked down and shrugged it off. Clothing is irrelevant, he decided.

"Show yourself!" The prince commanded and threw open the door.

The door opened right as an excited Popo and Nana came tearing through his room and jumped onto the bed. Marth sighed as he shut his door and put Falchion back where it waited before. This was a common occurrence; Nana and Popo were some of the few Brawlers that Marth talked to. "Marth!" They both said in unison.

"We saw your match and you were so cool and you bar-" Popo said rapid fire while Nana asked the question that made Popo stop short.

"Where are your clothes?" Marth just glanced over his shoulder and then went back to shuffling through his dry ones. Nana smiled at Marth's silence.

"Oh, you're wet too! How did that happen?" Marth looked over his shoulder again and this time turned around to face them. Standing in front of a window that showcased the mountain of rain pouring down, Marth just put his hand on his hip and quirked an eyebrow.

Nana and Popo looked at each other and started giggling in embarrassment. Marth always considered them as younger siblings, they certainly fit the bill.

"Have you two come here for something?" Marth inquired. The climbers ceased their giggling and Nana popped up excitedly.

"Yes! Are you getting ready for the Brawl Ball tonight?" The two looked at him expectantly.

"Frankly, I was not. These balls are held weekly, I see no reason for me to attend." The climbers' faces mirrored each others perfectly as they puffed out their bottom lips and looked at him with big, pleading eyes.

"But Maaarrth! We want to you to come and have fun," Popo whined. The prince looked at the two and sighed.

"I have no interest in attending, give me a reasonable answer." Nana's face lit up again.

"Because tonight is the night where they also announce who made it into the Elite group of brawlers!"

Marth ran his finger along Falchion's blade. "Oh, that is tonight?"

Nana and Popo both nodded like mad bobble heads. "I am already a member of the Elitists, and -"

Nana interjected, "And Master Hand ruled that all previous elitists have to attend to qualify for readmission." Marth frowned at the climbers as they gave him their best innocent smile.

"The theme for tonight's Brawl Ball is masquerade!" Popo chimed in. Marth just frowned.

With masked faces all around, it was difficult to recognize anyone, not that Marth tried to talk to anyone in the first place. He could point out a few individuals, ones with unforgettable statures such as Gannondorf, who roared with laughter above all noise and chugged unbelievable amounts of booze. "I'm guessing the only reason the Demon King is here was because he is an elitist as well." Marth said to no one in particular. Eyes flicking across the room, he settled for the shadows and observed the party's atmosphere.

Soft music soothed in the background as brawlers twirled and swayed to match it. Their smiles reached up to their eyes as they lifted drinks to their lips or mingled with friends and enemies. Every part of the room was bustling with excitement, making the Brawl ball live up to its reputation. Towards the stage, Jigglypuff was puffing and struggling to get a hold of a mic to serenade the entire room, but for the crowd's safety, Fox kept it well out of her reach. The Altean observed as a frightened Luigi and Kirby hurried to quell Gannon's thirst, as he quickly drained his affects with ease. Near the food tables, Wario and King Dedede were engaged in seeing who could shove more food down their throats in a remarkable amount of time. Marth continued to survey the ball room, not affected by the airy and happy aura that influenced the rest of the brawlers. "I don't see what's so enjoyable about this," he frowned as he crossed his arms in defiance.

Two more brawlers with recognizably short statures came towards Marth. "So are you enjoying the ball?' Popo asked wearing a pink mask.

"I just wish they would announce the elitists." Marth huffed.

"You look so handsome Marth!" Nana said wearing a blue mask. Perhaps they thought switching their signature colors would be clever.

"Are you saying that I look handsome because half of my face is covered?" Marth crossed his arms in question.

That made Nana and Popo giggle at each other, "No, your outfit!" The Altean looked down at his attire. Standing tall and proud, the prince was wearing a sleek black suit, and just this once, he left his Altean crown in his room. He wore a simple, dark blue mask that looked very striking on him. While the climbers gawked at Marth like he was on display, the Altean looked around.

"There are too many people in here, and they aren't close to announcing the elitists." Marth looked over at the wonder twins. "Popo you have a little drool coming out of your mouth."

Popo snapped up," What? I do?" and began to wipe his mouth frantically while his cheeks turned rose. Nana laughed at Popo and looked up at Marth.

"Thank you, you two, but I have somewhere I need to be." And Marth parted with that statement; leaving his friends for the night outside, drawn like a moth to a flame.

*Meanwhile on top of the Smash Mansion's roof.*

"Snake, want to see how good my batting skills have gotten?!" asked an excited small boy with bright blonde hair and a striped shirt. "A- at least I think I've gotten good…I mean okay…" The boy receded. An aged chuckled warmed the damp air.

"Sure, why not. Show this old gunner what you've got," encouraged Snake.

"Yes Lucas, I'm sure you're great." A soft, misty breeze whirled around the Hylian princess, making her dress lift and rustle in the wind.

"Hey Olimar, why don't cha toss a few Pikmin Lucas's way and he can bat them around." Snake nudged Olimar. The mini space cadet saluted Snake once in response and then went right to work plucking pikmin out of the ground. Lucas nodded peekidly, and wore a look that said he regretted what he just asked.

"It's so nice to enjoy this weather for a bit before we head back to the ball. The way the fog shrouds everything but this rooftop, it's almost magical." The Hylian princess said in appreciation.

"It's kinda creepy if you ask me, but I suppose it's a nice break from the constant heat." Snake grunted. "It's the first time you've seen the weather like this, huh, Zelda, you being new to the Smash crib," he looked over at the admiring princess.

"Yes, I think this weather is beautiful, it casts everything in a new light." Zelda stated holding out a gloved hand, as if the mysterious weather was something she could hold.

Taking out his bat with doubts in his mind, Lucas shook his head rapidly in an effort to shake out his cowardice. The kid looked down at the worn bat; his friend Ness had given it to him as inspiration to practice his skills. Lucas gripped it tightly and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Why do I get so nervous all of the time? Lucas mumbled to himself. "I can't do it, I should just tell them I can't." Lucas's mind rapidly rambled until he felt a gloved hand gently place on his shoulder.

The frazzled boy looked up to see the striking young queen smiling down at him. Zelda was always so kind to him, and calmed him down when he needed it the most. Whether her intuitiveness gave him away, or if she just knew him extremely well, Zelda could always seem to tell what he was thinking.

"Believe in yourself, alright?" Lucas held her gaze for a bit and then nodded once, trying his best to look more confident.

"Are ya ready Lucas?" Snake asked as Olimar stood up with a white Pikmin resting in his hand and a line of pikmin trailing behind him. Lucas nodded tightly as Olimar threw the white pikmin like a baseball. Lucas tried to not show how scared he felt as the white blur was launched towards him. He swung, shooting the pikmin over the roof edge, easily a homerun.

"I did it!" Lucas said beaming up at Snake and Zelda.

"Oh yeah?" Snake challenged, "Try some more."

Snake pulled out a cigar and lit it as he stared at Lucas with smug expectation. He was proud of the kid. "Snake watch the smoking around the child." Zelda gave one stern glance Snakes way. Snake whipped the cigar out of his mouth and threw it off the balcony then looked around sheepishly, "What cigar? I don't see one." Olimar had a whole set of Pikmin in line ready to become living targets.

"Here we go!" Snake raised his voice as Olimar threw the first three Pikmin.

Whack! Whack! Whack! Lucas shakily sent them airborne.

"Watch where you're sendin' those things!" Snake yelled as he scrambled to dodge the flying pikmin. Zelda smiled endearingly at the kid.

"I think I'll go stand over here, I wouldn't want to get hit." Zelda said. "Ah…uh…..Zelda, please…be careful, you're kind of…close to the edge." Lucas looked over with a worried expression.

Olimar sent two more flying his way. Whack! Whack! You could hear Snake flailing and cursing in the background.

"I am not clumsy, do not worry, Lucas." The young queen smiled. The blonde boy looked back at Zelda and smiled. "OLIMAR, WHADDAYA DOING?!" Snake yelled. Lucas looked back at Olimar only to see a rainbow of pikmin flying towards him.

Lucas screamed and in an attempt to defend himself and wildly swung the bat, striking all of the pikmin and sending them all in flying in all directions.

"AHHH GAWD." Snake yelled as a pikmin was sent flying smack into his face, knocking the old man out cold. "ZELDA!" Lucas yelled as a purple pikmin who was significantly heavier and larger than his brethren sailed through the air and rammed into the princess. "EYAHH!" Lucas's beloved baseball bat fell to the floor as he desperately ran to the Zelda, who was teetering backwards.

"LUCAS!" Zelda yelled as the boy unfurled his Rope Snake in attempt to latch onto her. Zelda stretched her hand out towards the rope and successfully grabbed onto it. Zelda let out a sigh of relief as she looked up at Lucas who had a look of terror on his face. Their eyes met and the young boy's eyes began to glitter while snot began running down his mouth.

"Ze-Zelda, I-I'm sorry." The boy sputtered and gushed tears that began to soak everything down to Zelda's glove.

"We're all right now Lucas," Zelda soothed, "Let's just get me up." Lucas sniffed, and nodded. The princess smiled as Lucas began pulling her up, when suddenly Zelda's glove slipped and lost grip. Zelda fell back with a scream, and was sent plummeting down into the mist storm below.

"It's really a shame that no one's out here, it is beautiful," Marth said into the night. The rain from earlier had quieted and now cloaked the smash mansion with an impenetrable mist that danced and beckoned to Marth, as if it was alive. Marth languidly closed his eyes as he was engulfed by the fog, letting his thoughts wonder with the swirling mist. Within moments, Marth's daze was shattered when his battle senses suddenly lit up, instinctively making the swordsman survey the area.

"What did I just feel?" Marth walked to the edge of the balcony, and listened to sounds of the night. Marth studied the silence as he heard a slight ringing in the distance.

"No, it was not my imagination." Marth burrowed his brow in concentration, as the ringing sound became louder and louder, and seemingly getting closer. "That noise, it sounds like a woman, screaming…." Marth scanned everywhere all around him, but it was useless. Anything past the point of the balcony was devoured and obscured by the swirling fog. Marth closed his eyes and the misted world seemed to fall silent around him.

"Above!" Marth called as he hurtled himself into the barrier of fog above him.

Marth glided through the air with ease, and bounded his way up the side of the Smash Mansion until his hand made purchase on a ledge large enough to support his weight. "This fog is impossible," Marth grunted as he threw his weight upward onto the ledge. The Altean once again closed his eyes, and his battle senses whispered to him. He could feel the fogs will, and any thing that disturbed it or blocked its path as it swirled and danced through the air. It felt as if he had become the strange gas itself.

"EYAHHHH!" A shrill scream pierced the air again. Breaking his sensory coma, Marth opened his catlike eyes, fierce as the storm itself. Without hesitating for a moment, Marth dug his heels into the old building and shot off into the haze.

"I've got you!" Marth called as he shot through the mist and procured his target. "I was right, you are a woman." Marth said to himself as he grabbed her torso and legs and held them against his chest.

"Huh?" Zelda gasped as she grasped what just happened.

"But, how did you..?" She started but her voice wavered out as she looked up at her rescuer. A light blush dusted Zelda's face as she studied her saviors face. Even with his mask on, he was extremely handsome, and they were close, really close. Marth felt her body temperature and looked down at the woman who was gazing up at him.

"Why does this always happen with women." Marth glanced down at elf-like woman with annoyance. Zelda decided to keep all questions to herself until they were safely on solid ground. The Altean glided through the fog until he landed gracefully on the balcony, the ballroom music adding variety to the night. The prince lowered the girl to the ground and looked her in the eyes.

"Are you injured?" His blue eyes bored into hers.

"N-no. I am alright." Zelda put her hand up to her fuming face and then gasped. "My mask! It must have flown off in the wind!" Zelda started looking around frantically.

It was a small casualty compared to your life." Marth said plainly.

The Hylian looked down, "Ah, yes. You're right. I bet you are wondering why I was falling…" Zelda took a breath to steady her still racing heart.

"I was on the roof with-"Zelda looked up at her savior and stopped short, Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome was in the midst of walking away.

"Excuse me!" Zelda yelled at the distancing prince, and hurried to catch up with him.

"H-hey! You do not just walk away from someone while they are talking!" Marth threw a bored glance her way and kept walking.

"At least what is your name?" Zelda called as she hurried to catch up the blunette, who had vanished into the ballroom. Not entirely steady, the Hylian shakily looked around ballroom, surrounded by a cacophony of sounds, but not a single sign of the man." How did he disappear so fast?" Zelda breathed. Suddenly the lights dimmed, and a single spot light brightened the Ballroom's stage.

Master Hand floated on the stage grasping a microphone, and the brawlers all burst out in cheers. The Mansion master had a bowtie ironically placed on his wrist, and he cleared his throat.

"Welcome all brawlers, smashers and elitists to this week Brawl Ball!" The crowd clapped enthusiastically and some even cheered.

"I thank each and every one of you for attending and I must say you do look spectacular! "The room full of brawlers lit up again, as they gave Master Hand another hearty welcome. "Now let's get this event up and running! Tonight I am proudly here to announce this years round of Elitists! Elitists, you say? They are only the strongest of the strong, best of the best, and have earned their title and place among the most respected for their skill. Those of the Elitist rank will be subject to the most difficult challenges, undergo the brashest training, and the fiercest competition! But the rewards given, world wide fame, and privileges far outweigh and are incomparable to any other rank! Some will be returning this year, and have defended their spot right until this very day. But a new group of elitist will emerge, through hard work and dedication; these brawlers have risen their way to the top of the totem pole, fight after fight, win after loss."

Master Hand's finger pointed across the crowd in a slow manner, as if he was talking individually to each person in the crowd. "Now then, what you've all been waiting for, announcing this year's group of Elitists!" All casual conversation stopped as the entire room became full of tension. Some whispers could be heard with little snippets like "Who do you think it will be?" And "Oh man, I've worked so hard for this." The crowd grew silent again as Master Hand inhaled for his next sentence. "In no particular order, give a round of applause our first Elitist, a returning member at that... Marth!"

The crowd involuntarily cheered in congratulations but a curtain of silence fell upon the room once the crowd processed the name. "The Altean Prince? I've never seen him in person, although I've heard of him." Zelda thought as she strained to get a good view of the stage, anger from moments before replaced by curiosity. Excited whispers spread throughout the crowd as foot steps sounded from somewhere on the stage.

"Pardon me," Zelda pushed past many masked faces until the stage became completely visible. "I know he's only seen when he has a match, and on top of that is the only brawler without a loss, what kind of man is he?" The room hushed dead silent again as a masked man emerged from the right of the stage with his hand on his hip. Zelda craned her neck to see the Altean prince, only to see a familiar figure.

Marth's face hardened as he regally took his position next to Master hand, and glowered out into the gossiping crowd.

"Typical, they're all the same." Marth sneered in his mind as his staring contest with the crowd intensified. The crowd stared in awe, the same way Popo and Nana sometimes did when they couldn't help themselves. From behind him, metal clicked against the ebony wood floor and became increasingly louder with each moment. This being his fourth ceremony, he didn't need to look to know what was going to happen next. From behind him, two mechanical Robs rolled over to Marth, their tires clicking against the wood along the way. In one swift motion, the Robs mechanically placed a thick, cloth cape over his shoulders and clicked back into their previous spots.

"It's a lot heavier than last years," Marth noted to himself, still glaring at everyone he could see. The capes brilliant red color swayed around the swordsman's ankles, and his emblem was displayed proudly in-between his shoulder blades. Congratulations!" boomed the Master Hand as he made a thumbs up sign with his hand, and party balls released bits of colored paper across the stage. The crowd went insane as the confetti scattered around the room.

The Master Hand began to read through his spotless record and attributes, but only as white noise in the background. Zelda looked up in disbelief. The crowd hooted and chanted around her while confetti scattered color around the room, but all she could hear and see was him.

How could she not have recognized him?

No one else could have made that kind of jump through fog except for the Altean Prince. And that hair, no one had hair of that color.

The Hylian took a step towards the stage as Marth, the Prince of Altea, turned to give the crowd one more flippant glance, and then began stock off the stage, leaving a whirl of confetti behind him. She had to at least thank him. Zelda desperately began pushing her way through the thick wall of bodies when Master Hand spoke into the mic.

"Now then Ladies and gentleman, our next edition to the elitists…The lovely beauty, Zelda!"