Burn of Ice

Chapter 1; Sting

"My sweet little bird, I have such grand plans for you…"

A sharp glare of light had seeped through the lids of tightly closed eyes as sun light peered through branches of the trees that covered Faron Woods. The sun was mockery to the boy it was shining on, pouring light that was incredible, upon a boy who felt as though he was nothing. His green clothing was forever stained with blood of the fallen, but he wore this tunic with upmost pride. But as all material things went, the green fabric had been torn a multitude of times even the chainmail beneath the forest green clothing had weathered a bit.

"Master, you must restore your health at the nearest opportunity." That sentence was getting old. Just as much, if not more was the fact he needed to be told this. Link groaned out, forcing his eyes open through the crust that had somewhat pinned them close, when they were open he was immediately blinded by the harsh sun light that had partly rose over the trees. He shifted an arm up to cover them, only to have pain shoot up it as he tried. That's right, he had broken his arm in a fall, or had it been something else he could remember. His half light blinded eyes fixed on a new dark red spot that went from his shoulder blade to who-know-where. Picking up his other hand to lay it across the slash of blood, he felt welting skin that was raggedly cut.

"Yes Fi…" Link's bitter reply sounded harsh in his own ears as he directed his still adjusting eyes to the floating figure of the one named 'Fi'. Her, if he could even call Fi a her, form drifted back into the sword after delivering a small bow. His eyes slowly made their way back up to the sky, the sun almost over the trees at this point, as if the day said 'Get up, your time is leaving you.'. He prepared to get up, shifting his weight onto his good arm and wincing through the pain of sore muscles and a few broken bones. He would have to live and push through it, people were counting on him. But first he needed to get up, and move on.

"Master…" A voice emitted from his sword as Link braced himself to sit up after pulling his broken arm over his chest. His deep blue eyes glinted with forming tears as the bone was jostled again. He was already feeling weak again. "I sense a strong aura near, it would be best if you were on alert."

Finally, Link had sat up. His form slouched a bit as he attempted to put his broken arm back to place so it would feel like someone was driving hot nails through the bone and muscles. Cold sweat had already made tracks down his spine, a cold spider web of fear. He was not in any terms to fight something at the moment if something were to happen upon him in his weaken form. As his head throbbed brutally, as if a deku shrub was firing its seeds at the wall of his skull. Taking the Goddess Sword of, sheath and all as, he drove the tip into the moist ground, shifting his weight Up to the sword, letting it brace his broken form.

Links eye sight was blurring in the corners as he scanned the area for a safe..No, not safe, nothing was safe any longer. But he had to make it to a spot where he wouldn't be immediately noticed by whatever was coming or near enough to sense him. He stumbled up using the sword as a crutch as he made his way to thicker forestry. He foot slipped on wet grass that covered the muddy ground and he stumbled face down, covering his already soiled tunic with dirt and a mouthful of grime. Spitting out grass his world began to fade around the edges as wounds reopened, but he could barely feel it as his body went numb again. As Link slipped back into unconsciousness again he heard the monotonous voice of Fi. It always initiated a bit of sadness for the fact she had no emotions, or if Fi did, she didn't show them. "Master, it would be wise to-"

Zelda was awoken by the burn of sweat as it entered the gash at the back of her head; the swollen flesh around it had an almost unbearable itch. She moved her hand to the gash, pressing fully with the palm of her hand trying to stop the urge to claw at the skin. The hair around the cut was stiff it blood that cracked the dry once wet substance. The grainy feel of it left a sick feeling in her stomach as she realized that she shouldn't have had a gash on her head and the fact it was too warm to be Skyloft or even the forest she had just left. He cobalt eyes snapped open before blinking back at the harsh orange light that seemed to singe her cornea.

When the dots escaped her vision her eyes had mildly gotten used to the harsh light that invaded them, even though they watered as the humidity burned them along with the thin ash that polluted the air. Zelda's eyes widened to saucers as she scanned the surroundings of what seemed to be a cave on the inside of a volcano. Panic set into line of thought and emotion as her gaze rest on red monsters that carried large clubs or cleaver blades as their black beady eyes glinted above fat stubby noses that snorted with every breath. Her breath quickened considerably so as she viewed the stains on the loin-clothes some still marred the unclean blade they held along with the bludgeoning clubs the others held.

Zelda stood gingerly to escape the noise that may alert the red monsters that were preoccupied with unknown business. She scanned the area for a way out, glancing at every possible way out, choosing a broad passage that slopped upward at a ridiculous angle. What she failed to notice was the shackle that bore her thin wrist as she made a run for the ledge.

Falling back screaming as Zelda felt her wrist snap with the awkward angle the shackle was connected. Due to not sensing the metal wrapped around her wrist she had broke into a run. She kneeled over the twisted appendage letting out continued screams escaped her cracked lips. Blood from the torn skin, chafed by the edges on the manacle, dripped to the pale stone dying it a dark red brown color. The red monsters had been alerted by the attempted escape and their sharp cackling laughter rung out in an insane drone that resounded around the rock walls. They were directly mocking her, laughing at her pain like the sadists they were.

The blood was terrifying to Zelda; blood had always freaked her out, the color, the feel, and the fact it was a person's life force. Spilling it to her was draining life out. She wrapped her hand around the torn skin ignoring the burn of her sweaty hand coming in contacted with the flesh as she tried to stop the bleeding. She was becoming hysterical with continued screams and the fear of blood that was clouding her mind. The monsters on the side lines were laughing harder, one of them gave a push to another as they were pointing out the pain she was feeling landing the one who was push into the lava in which skin melted off muscle and muscle melted off bone. But they continued their laughter, some even laughing at the luck of the unfortunate monster that fell into the lava.

Lavender-blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears as Zelda watched the sanguine ooze through her fingers staining the white sleeves of her gown. She pinned both hands to her chest with the one hand still clamped around her wrist, this action dyed a red splotch over her heart. Her own screams had deafened her as she would not realize the defined steps leading up to her, or how the red things backed away with their beady eyes shining with fear. Some even backed into the lava with their sights only on one point as they backed away. She only realized when a gloved hand wrapped over her mouth as she took another shuddering breath.

"That sound you are making, it is quite insufferable." Cold lips were pressed to the shell of Zelda's ear as baritone vocals flowed in. She sat rigidly as her head was pressed into a hard surface behind her trapping her in place. A white clothed hand slithered down her front and to where she held her hands to her heart. The hand pried the hand holding the broken wrist and skin together, twisting the broken one further in the cuff. Zelda bucked her body back against the thing behind her, hoping to dislodge it from touching her.

"Your futile struggling is not appreciated." A small chuckle resounded in her ear before the hand struck forward, ripping her snapped wrist from the grasp of her other hand. Zelda let a muffled shriek out into the hand as tears poured over leaving clean streaks on her cheeks. The 'thing' behind her sifted her wrist around to seemingly examine the torn skin and limpness of her hand. There was a deep chuckle then something that may scar her for the rest of her day as a long thin tongue made its way to her wrist. The slimy appendage wrapped itself over torn skin, tasting the copper fluid that dripped from it. The saliva was the worst part, cold and hot at the same time. Seemingly burning her, yet leaving her with frost bite.

"My dear little Hylia…" The tongue pulled back sharply before the voice slicked its way out of the captor's mouth in a sickly sweet voice. The hand that was holding her wrist let go and shifted to her throat where two fingers pressed against her pulse as Zelda fought to get away, clawing with her unmarred hand and kicking out with her forgotten legs. The 'thing' behind her grunted with irritation as it continued to hold her pulse, and with that her eyesight was fading back. Zelda's struggles became less and less as her pulse was being forcibly slowed to render her in a sleep like state. "It would be best if you let in…"

Ghirahim chuckled quietly at first, before the mirth increased to an insane laughter as he held the passed out girl in his arm. Humans were so stupid to him; they fought futile battles, talked as if they knew, and made rash decisions that would cost their lives. This little one, the one who was the vessel reincarnate for the soul of the Goddess Hylia, was no exception. He found it so incredibly funny that she had even noticed the shackle around her thin wrist, the crack of it breaking had been so…pleasing to the ears.

"My sweet little bird, I have such grand plans for you…" Ghirahim whispered as he stroked through Zelda's goldenrod hair, catching his fingers on the gash that stained his white gloves. He grunted in disgust as he examines the red blotch that would surely be permanently adorning this article of clothing. Taking his black eyes off his ruined clothing and directed his gaze to the girl laying limply in his grasp. She was in dire need of a bath, dirt smudged her face, she was covered in sweat that soaks through and bared creamy skin. Oh how he wished to cut the skin, drag a knife over it and watch her expression.

Ghirahim lifted the broken appendage inquiring the metal wrapped around it, clicking his tongue as he broke it off with a flick of his hand. The sacrifice would be immediately done once he got her to submit to him. To be able to render the soul to bring back Demise, she would need to submit herself to him; any bit of resistance could make a large dent in plans, on in which he would not overcome. But she, as far as he could tell, was incredibly weak. This would be incredibly easy…

Gingerly picking the girl that would bring back his master, Ghirahim flung her over his shoulder holding her leg to keep her up. It would be quite fun on his part, making one bow to his will was entertaining giving him pleasure like no other action. His face split in a lopsided grin, showing off pointed teeth that were once hidden behind white lips. Fun indeed.

Initiating a small stream of magic, Ghirahim and the soul vessel tight in his grasp, teleported away leaving behind a burst of diamonds with the discharge of left over magic marked as his own. He would bring them to his palace, his home where he would proceed to go to lengths to have 'his little bird' submit.

Ghirahim gazed upon the great structure with quiet admiration of the palace designed by him. He stepped up the marble walk way in carefully placed strides set on where to go. Stepping up and over to the large wooden door he lifted a hand, palm flat as he struck the door. The force sent it open completely, they ricocheted slightly off the walls as he stepped through the threshold and into his domain.

"Now, where shall I put you…?" Ghirahim questioned the unconscious girl in his grasp as he strode away from the self closing doors and deeper into the palace, the stone walls high above his head to the marble ceiling that was supported by tall beams. All was his, and any who entered was his as well.

Ghirahim came upon a door, decorated with an elegant floral. Opening it he entered to a sparsely decorated room that lacked in his normal furnishings but a bed, small wooden chair and a full length mirror adorned the room. He chuckled silently as he approached the bed, laying the maiden down upon the pain white bed dressings her golden hair splayed out like a fan. He placed a hand on her lightly bushed cheek, baring his fangs in a grim smile.

"Sleep, little bird struck from the sky…for tomorrow you will not feel the luxury…."

Authors Note

Hello all, I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter. I am suspecting this story to be very long due to what I have in store. Ghirahim in the story is a bit sadist in the story, so…have fun with that!

Please leave a review! Or a flame ~(0-0)~