Greetings, AWIRT (Anyone Who Is Reading This)! Nacartor of Cut Productions here. Anywho, I wanted to write a quick oneshot before continuing my main story, "Onettsons", and this idea came to my head. A few days later, I'd say it turned out pretty well. I've always been a big fan of Ghirahim, who is in my opinion one of the best villains I've ever come across. However, I've found that Fanfiction has all but neglected his angrier, darker side, so I decided to dedicate this story to that part of him. (Contains spoilers for The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

So, without further ado…

To God be the Glory

Dark Perception

The Demon Lord

I am done.

This has gone far enough.That boy cannot get the best of me; it is an impossibility! I am the master of this land! And he is…he is…

…Winning.

That puny, inexperienced, goddess-chasing brat is winning. Oh, sure, he is a long way from saving the Spirit Maiden and neither one of us have obtained victory, but I cannot deny that he is beating me. How? How can the almighty Demon Lord Ghirahim admit that his opponent, who is nothing more than an unknowing teenage whelp armed with a short-sword, has the upper hand? The odds must be terribly in his favor for this to happen! I release a bolt of my fiery wrath into nearby tree, burning it to the ground. In his favor indeed.

What could have convinced me of these odds? The boy not just defeating me once, but twice in combat. The first time he had surprised me, as I was expecting him to be just as he was: a child in over his head. But there was something odd about how he fought, a skill that didn't seem to originate from his own self. It was as if someone else was pulling his strings, giving his hands the spirit of an ancient warrior. I had not given too much thought to it at the time. I merely surmised that I had finally met someone who could offer some entertainment in battle; I had only been toying with him, after all. Of course, I had doubted then that he would ever show his sniveling face again, but he did more than that. As he gradually overcame my forces, my monsters, and in fact ANY obstacles, he became less and less of a nuisance and more and more of a threat.

Finally, I had to bring him to well-deserved and painful end. Knowing that I was completely out of his league, I still held back when fighting him, though not nearly as much as before. And yet, somehow, it had made no difference! He had beat me just the same as before, although this time I could feel that the spirit of the warrior did not carry him, but that he carried it. When the duel was over, I had not left him, but FLED him! ME fleeing before a mortal half-grown!? Preposterous! But somehow, IT WAS TRUE!

Our history is by no means over. I had told him that. Even if he had beaten me this time, I have other ways. His victory here means nothing; the Demon King will be reborn, and I will be restored to my rightful place at his side. My smile returns as I think of my master's imminent return. Oh, how the boy would be helpless against his power. He would strive to reverse his fate, but it would be no use. His futile efforts could only prolong the inevitable. He would fall, and his world with him. But the best part, as he would lay there with life seeping out through his wounds, would be that I would be there to see him die. My smile spreads to grin, tasting nothing sweeter. I decide that this moment, this beautiful and blissful moment, takes priority over all else but my master's resurrection.

Then, slowly, the clouds above me begin to lift, and my spirits as well. Yes, the sky-child would know pain yet, the type of pain that banishes all hope from its victim. And as future administrator of this pain, I regain my composure and spring up into the tops of the surrounding trees. It is sunset here in the Faron Woods, a time I have a particular fondness for. Sunset is the gateway into the night, when shadows roam. It is a prediction made by the goddesses themselves: light will reign at first, but then it will be engulfed in a war that will paint the world red. And out of the blood will come the great dominion of darkness, and this will be the world's fate. I inhale deeply, knowing myself to bear a pivotal role in this epic story. Letting the air back out, I chuckle at my previous thoughts. The boy could not be winning; nature proved him wrong every day.

With this knowledge reasserted, I raised my hand above my head and snapped my fingers. There was work to do, a war to win, and enemies to kill. The child's doom had to be prepared.

…

NO! NOT AGAIN!

The indescribable force that my master had wielded through me is lost in an instant; a single, lightning-fast instant. Suddenly the hand that holds me is twitching violently, a sign the rest of its body is also convulsing. Then the twitching is changed to flails and jerks, and I feel the power of the boy's sword cutting through the body. The body of Demise, the body of the Demon King, the body of MY king, the body of MY MASTER!

With each stroke from the holy blade, I feel the last, deadly bit of my user's strength give way. A final blow! And then we are flying through the air, landing vulnerably on the mystic ground. Though Demise had risen from this situation before, I can feel it in the way he grips my hilt…this is the last time. We are not getting back up. That child, that boy, that WRETCHED, FILTHY, UNCONTROLABLE BRAT! …was now going to seal our fate.

I see him sail through the air, undoubtedly propelled and pulled by that elusive guiding hand, then plunge sword-first into the Demon King, blade ablaze with light. And that light travels through the darkness, through the blackness, through the shadow, through the FAILURE that is, no, WAS my master!

How…how could he!? How could he with such terrible might fall to such an inexperienced, a literally green opponent!? WHO WAS THIS BOY THAT COULD CAST DOWN DEMONS!? DEMISE WAS DEAD AND I WITH HIM!

As my power begins to dwindle and my darkness begins to fade, I take a last look at this conqueror standing before me. What has he done, and what can he not face, if he can accomplish this? He defies the very cycle of the stars! If Nighttime was a prophecy, than what was this!?

My vision blurs, and the only thing I can make out is the dreaded light emanating from his sword. And then, in the last moments of life of the Demon Lord Ghirahim, I realize that I had forgotten…

I had forgotten that every night was followed by a dawn.

If you may have been confused, the first scene takes place right after the second boss battle with Ghirahim. Always did wonder where he went after that… Also, this might turn into a series if I have enough time and interest in it. But anywho, tell me what you thought of this.

This is Nacartor of Cut Productions, signing off.