"How dare you leave me this way..."
Ghirahim's vocals echoed throughout the room, each word seeming to have a drop of venom hanging at the end. His brown eyes moved up to the painted ceiling, his feet finally stopping for a spell while his irises seemed to glide over the ancient Hylian texts. They each stated the same particle of his failure though; there were no other paths to the Past, nor the Future. The Gates of Time could not bring back his master now... and now, here he was, stuck in an never-ending spiral of...feeling.
Slowly, the sword-spirit brought his black-tipped fingers up to his eyes, curling and squeezing them into his palms in anger, his upper lip beginning to curl back into a sneer. His chest was pulsating, and a sea of vomit seemed to be threatening to surge out of his throat, leaving him parched and rather disagreeable. With an angry growl, Ghirahim fell back into the chair behind him, the tip of his elbow stinging in pain as it came into contact with the arm. How dare he... how dare he leave him here on his own- after all his hard work...damn his Master!
"Leaving me here...expecting me to just carry-on and bring him back a second time..." He hissed, resting his cheek rather begrudgingly against his right hand, his weight shifting as well. So many people seemed to expect him to always hold it together- to lead the way and be the shining beacon of hope for gaining control of the surface. So many humans looked at him as if he were disgusting though...as if he were the bad guy! Hadn't they ever wanted to be needed? To be wanted? To feel that safe sense of security, knowing you were fulfilling some preordained destiny...?
"Haven't they ever been loved?"
Ghirahim pushed the thought away from his mind, slowly standing up to his full height once more. Such sweet dreams he had...dripping with a cobra's venom, staining the beautifully red blood of that retched boy...So many wonderful things he had going through his mind when he lay his head down to rest; flashes of red, gold and violet that seemed to swirl around his brain an alarming rate. But they also brought messages...words that taught him about the past- and the future; about what once was and what will be. That someone will always want to abuse and use you for all you are worth, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
Just like his master...always expecting him to be there to pull him back out of the hole he'd dug himself into- quite literally. It wore him out, causing his spine to heave in pain from such heavy labor and the toll it took on his mind. How could one man do it all? That was what he wondered himself, always questioning his master's methods...and his own ability.
He was not the strongest individual; this he knew. No amount of prayer would change that fact, either. Making his way to the end of the room, Ghirahim's eyes moved to the loftwing perched curiously at the top of the door- a gold painted statue. Raising his upper lip, his bared his fangs at the statue, pressing his body into the door for a moment before vanishing, his body bursting into a fit of diamond-shaped particles.
Within moments he reappeared on the other side of the door, several pig-faced goblins looking up in surprise. Some of them ran for cover upon seeing his foul mood, others stayed seated, waiting for an explosion.
However, Ghirahim stayed silent, taking long, slow strides to get to the dais in the center of the room. As soon as his soles touched the stone platform, he turned to face the Bokoblins, a simple smile on his face, his arms raised in greeting. An odd silence filled the room for several moments, and an eerie stillness seemed to fall over the sword-spirit's eyes.
"As you all know, there has been a rather nasty setback in my plans..." He murmured, his pastey-white lips curving upward into a wider, more manic-looking smile. Slowly, his arms fell to his side with a slight swing, like steel pendulums. "The Demon King has once again been placed out of my reach, and I am left alone to pick up the pieces of that insolent little brat." His face began to contort a bit, a sneer appearing on his features, "...and I'm sure you all know how that makes me feel..."
It was suddenly quiet, only the simple sound of his breathing moving through the air. Several terrified Bokoblins stared back in horror, their eyes wide in anticipation for the tantrum they knew was only moments away. It wasn't often that their master had these tantrums...but one thing was always certain when he did; one of them was going to die.
"Outraged!" The room suddenly felt red hot as sweat began to pour down the beast's faces, their master bursting into a fit of diamonds with each word he spat out. "Furious! Sick with anger!" He lashed his left arm out quickly, two spasming diamonds shooting out from the tips of his fingers. They made their permanent home in the breast of a female Bokoblin, who now lay splayed out across the ground in a position that could only reflect the agony of electrocution.
Ghirahim stood, trembling before his horde, a look of pure fury scattered over his pale features. He stayed hunched over, his fingers pressing unforgivenly into his cheekbones. Slowly though, his breathing seemed to even out from its previous wheezing, and he stood up straight, a rather calm look replacing the rage that had been there just moments ago. "...Well now, that wasn't very gentleman-like of me, now was it?" He asked, stepping forward and over the dead she-Bokoblin.
"I want all of you to get this into your thick skulls...so listen closely." Ghirahim suddenly spun around on his heel, his eyes scrutinizing every last inch of the little gremlins. "You all answer to me now...as we all know it, The Demon King can be presumed dead...a rather unfortunate presumption, but its the only one we have, now isn't it?" He asked, leaning down a bit to stare them in the eyes as he passed them by.
"Now, Now...I'm sure that each of you are thinking the same pea-brained little remark... 'what about your undying, relentless loyalty?" He lifted his face to the ceiling, his mouth curving into a pleasant smile. "Well...even loyalty has its boundaries, ladies and gentlemen."
He paused though, and turned to look at them with a sly look in his eye, "However, there is still the matter of that sky-child...yes...his punishment would need to be..hm...ghastly." He chuckled suddenly, sending a chill down the spines of his horde. "And you all, being the kind and generous family that you are, will no doubt help me achieve this fabulous dream of mine, correct? Lest of course you would rather stand up and tell me otherwise..." Again, there was silence.
"Now, I'm sure you're all wondering just what my fabulous and incomparable dream is...aren't you?" He spun around, his hair whipping against the sides of his face as he took a bow, his arms extended, "Well then, I'll tell you!" He laughed, his fangs gleaming from a sudden burst within the lit flames of the room.
Tossing his head back, Ghirahim's arms wrapped lovingly around his torso, "I want to see that Sky-child's head scewered upon an iron pike, his blood dripping down onto the sacred ground of that wretched Goddess!" He spat, a snake-like hiss emitting itself from deep within his lungs. "I want to watch his beloved Spirit Maiden writhing on the ground in agony as I personally defile her every being! I want to watch the light leave his eyes!"
Ghirahim took a gasping breath, his fingers clenched into fists as he brought them, shakingly, down to his sides. His breath was hoarse, his eyes radiating a dull white glow, the pale-white skin beginning to crack a bit, revealing the shiny black steel beneath. "And just how will any of these wishes come true?" He whispered, his eyes moving among the now terrified faces of his trusted horde. How on earth would he ever be able to pull off such a fantastic feat? "...The Companion of the Sky Child" His words were dripping with poison, a tone that could only be associated with pure, unsatisfied hatred. "After all...her and I are not so different you see...we were birthed the same way...and eventually we both shall die the same way..." He murmured, moving back up to the now rotating stone dais in the center of the room. "And...likewise..." He began, crouching down to stare at the triangular emblem in the center of the platform.
"Even loyalty has its boundaries."