Gladly, they weren't in a battle when all of that mess started. No, they were dining, the three of them, celebrating a glorious battle between their army and the hylians, where they had won. Obviously, of course, or they wouldn't be celebrating.
While they drank wine and talked about their actions in said battle, the mood was nice. But as soon as they started growing tired, the two smaller captains leaning against their master tiredly, the real worries of the trio started coming out to the surfice, and honestly, Ghirahim had had this bad feeling for almost a week now.
"Am I the only in here that senses something wrong?" Ganondorf asked, one arm wrapped around each of his captains' waist, while Ghirahim's head rested peacefully against Zant's shoulder. The Twili shrugged softly, his big eyes closing into a smooth line.
"I thought it had something to do with the eras being combined into one. In a sorcerers' view, that can't be healthy to any party involved" he said softly, another shrug by the end of his phrase. Ghirahim though knew it had nothing to do with being called to this strange era.
"It's not that" the sword spirit muttered, crossing his arms over his chest slowly. "It's something else. I feel like something extremely bad is going to happen, and I also think that it will be that sorcerer's fault."
"Lana?" Zant asked, looking at the demon with confused eyes, but Ganon was the one that answered.
"Cia" he said, a loud sigh following his words. "She has an evil plan. She knows she can't win while we or the hylians are united. She plans to break us apart somehow" he said, making the two minions look up and nod slowly. They didn't need to know where Ganondorf had gathered the information. They were sure he was right.
"So what do we do? We attack?" The twili asked in such an innocent tone that both Ghirahim and Ganondorf had to let a chuckle come out of their mouthes.
"We can't simply attack Zant. She has allies. Powerful ones. We need to discover her plans exactly and stop them before it's too late" the demon sword said quietly, eyes up, gazing the sky full of stars. The night was pleasant for the desert, not so cold as it usually was.
"Ghirahim is right. But for now, my captains, we shall relax and enjoy our victory" the gerudo said easily, raising his goblet. "A toast to victory days"
The three toasted and ate some more of the food they were given, before relaxing against each other and falling into a peaceful slumber. Well, at least Zant and Ganondorf did. Ghirahim did not need to sleep and that particular time he did not feel tired; he felt anxious. Something was going t happen, tonight, and someone had to be there to protect the base in case someone attacked. So he did that exactly, disappearing from his companions' side and sitting down right in front of their base.
Most of the night passed with not much trouble. Some mogoblins making bets and lizalfos training, but mostly all in order. Ghirahim had learned with Zant how to see the stars and find the constellations in the sky – that twili was making Ghirahim become one of those fool lovers that brought flowers home every week – so he did it, smiling to himself when he found his fifth constellations.
And that was when everything changed.
Suddenly, out in the middle of the desert, a bright orange light started shining, from the land to the sky and beyond. Ghirahim jumped up and summoned his sword at that, not expecting something like that to happen at all. Could it be the hero? He remembered that skychild had a few of those tricks. Was it Lana or Cia or some other sorcerer? He didn't really care who it was. He needed to find out what it was, fight it and then come back to protect the base. That was what he needed to do.
So there he went, sword in hand, watching that orange light get weaker and weaker until it became a dense black fog. He frowned deeply at that, having the feeling he had seen that somewhere before but not being able to remember where. So, now a few feet away from the fog, he stopped to make sure it wasn't poisonous, not expecting for the fog suddenly get closer to itself and start creating a shape.
And that was when it hit him.
He knew where he had seen that fog before.
Ghirahim's first instincts were to run. Run away from everything in pure fear. Then, he did exactly that, wishing to get the biggest distance possible between him and that thing, luckily warn Ganondorf about what was going on. But when he turned back to see how bad it was already, his entire body froze.
The fire hair.
The orange eyes.
The huge form.
Demise.
He looked back forward to start running again, but his legs were stuck. His fake skin had vanished from his arms. He could feel his crystal pounding against it, wanting to come out, like an addict seen their favorite drug.
Ghirahim gave one more step forward.
And another.
And another.
He pressed his hand against his chest.
Stop stop stop stop.
"Ghirahim"
The rest of his skin vanished. His hair took his original shape. His eyes turned white. And the big gem pulsed out of his chest, blood red, shining. He was in his demon shape again. He knew what came next. He didn't have the control.
His hands curled into fists. His arms trembled. His legs slowly turned him around to face Demise. The crystal on his chest pulsed again, like a human heart. He walked, slowly, body shaking, to the demon, the Dark Lord, to his master. It wasn't conscious anymore. He didn't wish to serve. It was his fate, his destiny. They had a bond that could not be broken.
Ghirahim's knee gave out once he got to Demise's side, and he kneeled in front of his master, head low, one arm over the knee that wasn't on the ground, the other over his chest. His eyes closed, and he could feel the way Demise smirked over him, watching the sword spirit give himself away in complete submission to him.
"Master"
"You're a great servant, Ghirahim. I could have not chosen better" the demon lord said, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Rise, my demon. You are now free to serve your real master again".
Ghirahim felt his body answering to the commands as a puppet in hands of a puppet master. Even though he wasn't the owner of his own actions anymore, he didn't fight against them. It was Demise, his original master. He owned him everything.
"Who are you that wonders this land?!" Ghirahim then heard, and both Demise and he turned to the sound. Ganondorf and Zant were walking to their direction, weapons in hand. They wanted to fight. And they seemed angry.
'Specially my Twili'
Ghirahim then felt something different. Something calm and peaceful going through his gem. Once he looked down, it wasn't red anymore. It was a light, baby pink, glowing softly. What was happening? What was going on?
"I am Demise, your ancestor, Ganondorf. I came to this land of light to reclaim what is mine and change the land's fate. I will not be defeated once more. This time, all races will kneel before me, and the world will be covered in darkness! But for that I need my servant, my sword" Demise said, looking at the Gerudo and the Twili with superiority. At his words, the gem on Ghirahim's chest became once more blood red, though it didn't have the same intensity.
"He's not only your servant! He's not only your sword! He is one of our captains and we need him in our battle! You were banished in your time and now he is on our side!" Zant yelled to the demon, growling quietly between his sharp teeth.
"Go back to your own time, old demon! These are not your battles; these are mine! Your time has passed and you have failed! You have no business here!" Ganondorf yelled next, tightening his hold on his weapons.
"I will not fight your battles. I will take what is mine and leave" Demise said, raising his arm to Ghirahim's diection. His chest begun to tighten and his eyes closed tight. The handle of the sword was already coming out of his gem when he heard a yell and the process stopped, making him fall on his back and his whole body hurt. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Zant attacking the demon, waving his arms around and making Demise step back as fast as he could, still receiving a few cuts on his arms.
"ENOUGH" he yelled, pushing Zant aside with one hand and making the Twili fall to the ground with a growl. Demise raised his hand to the sky and suddenly a lightening came down to his hand, where he gathered the energy and pointed to Zant.
Just then, one of Ganondorf's knifes made a huge cut on Demise's arm, making him scream again and turn to the gerudo, throwing the lightening on him instead, but he was fast enough to scape with only a light burning on his left arm.
Ghirahim was conflicted. They were fighting, but he wasn't sure where he should stand. The handle of the sword he would become had already vanished again to the inside of his gem, and the object itself kept changing color, between red and pink. His body was shaking so much he couldn't find strength to kept up and move. While his master was hurt, he felt the attacks as if they were on his own skin. While his companions were attacked, he felt as if his gem was cracking from the inside out. He wouldn't handle that pain for so much longer. He already felt his vision going blurry and his arms failing to support his body up.
And then, everything was black.
The colors started to come back to him suddenly, and he soon noticed he wasn't in the desert anymore. No. Ghirahim was inside a tent probably, because the ceiling looked like a blanket and it was pretty warm in there.
As he looked around, he saw a few pots and jars with water and food, a few blankets around where he was and the entrance to the tent. He didn't know how long he had been there but when he looked down he saw he was on his normal body again, with his usual clothes and no diamond on his chest. He was fine again.
But then the memories of the night came back and Ghirahim couldn't help but let out a loud whimper, before he closed his eyes and took deep breaths. It was not a time to freak out. He was fine now. He wasn't trapped anymore. Everything was going to be okay. Zant and Ganondorf had probably dealt with the problem and were now wining glorious battles and –
"Ghirahim!" he heard, and looked up to the entrance of the tent to see a worried Zant standing there, eyes wide, hair loose, out of his usual garments and with bandages all over his body: on his arms, his legs, one on his stomach and another on his chest.
If Ghirahim could feel worse than he was already feeling, that was the time.
"Zant?! What in the goddesses sake happened to you?!" Ghirahim yelled distressed, sitting up quickly. The twili let out a whine and ran to the sword spirt, jumping over him and hugging him tightly.
"Don't move! Ganondorf said you shouldn't! You're hurt!" he yelled, nuzzling against Ghirahim's neck and placing soft kisses all over the skin. The sword felt himself relaxing a bit more with every kiss, slowly laying down again and letting the Twili curl up against his side.
"Were you worried?" he couldn't stop himself from asking, a smirk forming on his lips as Zant looked up at him with a soft blush on his cheeks and a quiet whimper.
"You were acting weird Ghirahim! You didn't respond, you were on your demon form, and he was saying so many things! I got frustrated and confused and I.."
Ghirahim shushed the Twili with a soft kiss, holding his waist gently and letting Zant relax against his cold skin. Their lips moved slowly against each other, Zant's hand coming up to gently brush through Ghirahim's hair, and suddenly that peaceful, calm feeling made it's way to the sword's chest again.
And that was when he understood that they also had an unbreakable bond.
Love.