Okay I'm not much of a writer, but I thought I'd try my hand at this after reading so many. I'm not sure how good it is or if anyone will even like this. Let me know in a review whether you like or dislike this kind of story so I know whether to continue or just delete it and be a quiet reader.
Some warnings on this story: One it's yaoi as it's known in the internet world or in other words a relationship between two males. Two: about 90% of this is noncon between Link and Ghirahim when it gets to that point so be wary of that. Three: this story will contain male pregnancy. I know I know it's over done and tends to not be great, and normally it's not my thing either. Problem is this story just popped in the other day and wouldn't leave me be until I started to get it out. Four: this story will have death and possibly some gore but I haven't decided on how much strictly because it is a work in progress.
Now if people decide they like this please know that updates will be slow going as I am working on my own works and those are priority for me. I just write on here when I'm blocked up on others. I do encourage many of you to at least try this first chapter before you decide whether you hate it or not. I find a lot of stories I would otherwise hate for one small detail or another are actually good ones and at times a writer can really make it work. Well that's all folks, please enjoy.
Link
Link sat in the dank dark cell waiting, always waiting. Waiting for what he didn't know anymore. Rescue wasn't coming, he'd long ago quit waiting for that. When he'd first been brought here…what was it a year maybe two now…it didn't matter he was here to stay apparently. He could still vividly remembered that day, though there was little to remember.
It hadn't been far into the morning, he'd gotten up early to practice his sword and then tend to the small garden Zelda and he had started when they first came to the surface. Slowly the others were coming down, and soon they would be settled down here too. Groose had been staying down there more and more frequently, spending more time with Zelda. That morning the pair had left early like several mornings before, never returning until nearly sunset. Link wasn't blind, he had known what was going on, but he let it go putting any frustration he had into the dirt he was digging.
That morning he'd been extremely frustrated, mostly that they didn't even have the decency to tell him. He had been so focused on his work he hadn't heard anything until a blood curdling chuckle sounded behind him. Almost immediately a pair on white gloved hands fell upon his shoulders as a voice whispered a chilling greeting in his ear, "Hello Skychild." As the last syllable left the demon's mouth the long tongue flicked out licking along the hero's chin. Before he could react there was a sharp pain in the back of his head, and all had gone black.
He'd awoken in this stone dungeon with only exit or entry to the room being a solid metal door. A small slit in the door at eye level allowed a slim ray of light from torches that were presumably in the hallway beyond his prison. At first Link had been sure someone was coming for him, would save him from this existence. The time he spent here along with the words that infernal demon kept spouting at him though, had bled into his heart leaving him bitter and hard.
That demon, Lord Ghirahim, visited him often. Link couldn't have said whether it was daily or not as he had no notion of time in this place. Each time there were the taunts about why he was here, and what the demon's plans were for him. According to said psychopath he had survived because he was a demon sword, and as such was immortal. Because Link had finished Demise, Ghirahim was set to be the next Demon King, but there was one problem. Each ruler of the demon realm had to have a demon sword that was completely loyal to the ruler and no one else. However, the demon swords had to be created, but they could not use demon souls, only human souls could be used. Thereby each new ruler sought out the strongest human of the time to become their sword.
Link was the fortunate one to be chosen this time, or so Ghirahim had said. The hero didn't know how he would be forced into becoming the demon's sword, but he knew he would never be loyal to Ghirahim. Whenever the boy had shouted that statement at the flamboyant demon lord he would only laugh, as he drained blood from his captive. That was something the demon did every time he visited Link in his cell, take some of his blood. By now Link was sure it was for whatever ritual would force him into becoming a sword, but for what part of the ritual he didn't know, nor why they needed such a large amount. Though the truth be told Link knew nothing of the ritual, and Ghirahim had refused to explain it to him other than they needed the hero's blood.
The only upside of the constant blood drain was that the blonde youth was fed regularly, with rather succulent food that simply materialized within his cell. Really other than being trapped in the dim cramped cell, having to deal with blood loss, and Ghirahim, he was treated well. There was no torture or abuse of any kind. He had been allowed a soft mattress in his cell, a warm blanket, and pillow. True his clothes, boots, and earrings had been taken from him before he'd ever woken up in this cell. Instead he had been given a large, soft, brown robe to wear that hung to the ground tripping him up at times as it caught under his bare feet. Even his bathroom was not that bad though nothing luxurious, a simple toilet and basin in the corner of his cell.
There were no fights, demanding chores, or exercises to do, but that also meant Link was utterly bored. He had nothing to do in here and had long since given up any hope of escape, having had the time to search the cell a hundred times over. All he could do was wait, wait for whatever it was Ghirahim had planned for him.
Link's days had melded together with each looking almost identical to the last so much so he could not tell them apart. At last though his waiting seemed to be at an end as Ghirahim appeared in his cell. As he usually did Link stuck his arm out toward the demon, wishing to get the blood drain over with and make the demon leave all that much sooner, but that wasn't what happened. Instead the Demon Lord merely chuckled at him as he kneeled down and took the boy's face in his hands.
"My, my Skychild you've grown quite pale. Maybe I should have taken you out for a walk on a leash every once in a while, hmmm?" The demon only chuckled more as Link wrenched free his jaw and stomped over to the far side of his cell. He refused to answer the demon any longer, in fact he hadn't spoken in so long he sometimes wondered if he still could.
"Awh now don't be like that Skychild, I come with good news. Today is the last day you will have to spend in this dreary cell. Starting tomorrow you will undergo three days' worth of purification to ready you for the ritual. Then on the fourth day we shall partake in the ritual that will change you from a mere lowly human to the grandness of demon sword, my demon sword. Today the last minute preparations are being made and luckily for you we no longer need any blood, at least not yet." Here the demon gave a fanged smile as he flipped back his hair. "You should feel quite honored Skychild, few even have what it takes to be considered for a demon sword, and of those few only a handful contain the true warrior's spirit needed. You my dear boy are quite exceptional, tis a pity your little Goddess couldn't see that. Perhaps if she had she might have put a bit more effort into finding you, and then you might not even be in this situation."
Link growled at this statement, wanting nothing more than to strangle the white haired demon, but as he tried to step forward his overly long baggy robe tripped him up causing him to fall flat on his face. "Tut, tut Skychild," Ghirahim said as he knelt down to trace a hand along Link's ear and down his jaw. "You need to be more careful, I don't want the vessel for my sword damaged beforehand."
Link growled again as he tried to right himself. Ghirahim only laughed as he easily back flipped away from the blonde youth. "Ta ta for now Skychild, I shall see you on the fourth day when you will finally become mine, and I will become your master." With that the demon disappeared from the boy's cell, leaving a plate of food behind as well as a very nervous captive.
Link could hardly eat what felt like the last meal of a condemned man, but not knowing what the ritual would involve he ate anyway acknowledging that he made need his strength. Try as he might though Link could not sleep as the dread filled him. What would it be like to be changed? Would it hurt? Would he end up looking like Ghirahim, or would he still be himself? Those questions swirled around the hero's mind making him dizzy and mounting his fear. Unable to release its anxiety any other way Link's body lost the last meal he'd barely been able to get down.
As he wiped his mouth on the arm of his robe he heard the door to his cell open. Turning quickly he saw four demons standing in his cell, their faces held neutral expressions, as if this were the most routine thing in the world. All four wore long robes similar to Link's except these were completely black and tied with belts. One had horns encircling its face with a yellow complexion and poisonous green eyes like that of a snake. Two others had red skin, though one's was duller than the other. The brighter red demon had slick long turquoise hair that touched the ground, while the one with the duller skin sported only a single horn upon its head. The last was more the color of most human and had black short cropped hair with the only feature giving them away as a demon being a single black tail.
Link had been too stunned at the sight of the demons to move from where he was crouched in front of the toilet. These were the first beings the boy had seen since his arrival here, and they did not look at all friendly. As he stared the more human looking demon said something in a language Link couldn't understand. Without another word the four marched up to him with two taking either of his arms as one tied a blindfold around his head and the other put a ball gag in his mouth. He was then unceremoniously lifted to his feet as his hands were bound behind his back with a silken like cloth, similar in feel to the one covering his eyes. Then for the first time in what felt like an eternity Link was marched out of his prison.
The march was a long one with two of the demons holding tightly to Link's arms, pulling him along, and from the sounds of it one of the others walking ahead and the other behind. After an endless amount of twists and turns the five stopped for a moment. There was silence except for a single click, soon followed by a rush of cooler air that carried many heavy strange scents. Again the boy was marched forward into what he assumed was a large room. An ominous echoing click signified the closing and locking of the door sending a shiver of fear down the hero's spine. He could not say how often that sound had haunted his nightmares for nothing good ever came after it.
The demons stopped their silent march after a short distance into the room, and immediately went to untying Link's hands. The hero had every intention of punching out the demons once he had use of his hands again, then he would find his way out of here, and run far away where even the Demon Lord couldn't find him. It seemed the demons were ready for any trick he could come up with though, and he found that both his arms were held tightly in unforgiving grips even as the silken bindings came off. The next thing the demons removed was the blindfold covering his eyes. Instantly he was blinded by the bright light of the room, having been accustomed to almost complete darkness for so long. Before his eyes could adjust the boy felt his robe being slipped off of him. He tried to fight it, but the iron grips of the demons were too strong, and still he could not see clearly.
As his vision cleared Link found himself completely naked before the quartet of demons. One of the two not holding him was holding a strange ornately decorated box, while the other was inspecting his body. Again they spoke in that strange language that Link couldn't understand, and at the moment he really wished he could. Of course, one should always be careful what they wish for as the demon holding the box stepped forward.
The human looking demon that had been inspecting him opened the box, which held five thin golden rings of various sizes. Nodding the demon took the largest ring and turned toward Link, with a few murmured words the ring glowed for a moment before disappearing in a ray of light. Almost instantly it reappeared around Link's neck. The same process was used for the other four rings with one going to each of his wrists and ankles. As each ring was put into place on his body they individually began to glow brightly, enveloping the youth in a strange unpleasant feeling that only worsened as each ring was added. As the glow faded the more human demon took out the gag, and spoke to the boy.
"From this moment on you will stay right here unless told to move. You will not speak, and you will make no move to escape. You will do only what you are told and nothing else. Do you understand me human, a simple nod for yes and shake for no will do."
As soon as the demon had spoken the two holding the young hero released him. It would have been a prime opportunity to escape, but to Link's horror he found that he could only nod his head to the demon's question, otherwise he was powerless to move from the spot he stood in.
"Good, you may blink and breathe but nothing more." After those encouraging words the demon turned and started talking to the others, but Link was only focused on trying to escape now that no one was holding him. Try as he might though, Link could not so much as lift a finger, only able to stand there and wait for his next command. It only took the youth a moment to realize what had happened, the rings.
Somehow or another the rings were forcing him to obey every command given to him. As Link stood and listened to the conversation of the demons he realized another downside to the rings. In order to obey commands he had to be able to understand them. He hadn't previously understood the demons, but now even as he clearly understood their words he could make out the language was not Skyloftian. Apparently the rings allowed him to understand their language so he would be forced to obey.
As three of the four demons went off in search of the items they were ordered to get the fourth, the human like demon with the tail, walked up to where Link still stood rigidly. He put a clawed hand on Link's jaw turning his head this way and that, inspecting him. "It truly amazes me that one such as you could have defeated that tyrant Demise," the demon said softly as he began walking around the boy.
Link had wanted to jerk away from the demon's touch, while his comment had Link seething to retort. Still he could not as the demon continued walking around him, touching him every so often. "Such a scrawny small boy to have defeated such a beast, and even more amazing is the fact that Lord Ghirahim wants you. I would have thought he would choose someone more up to his standards. Ah well, I have yet to see the changes he will make. Perhaps than you'll be more appealing to the eye." As he had continued his monologue the demon's hands ran across Link's shoulders, the flat of his stomach, and even a ways down his hips.
Link's ears rang with the slew of insults, his body revolted against the touches even though they'd stopped as soon as the demon stopped speaking, and another part of him was curious at the demon's words. He had called Demise a tyrant and a beast, weren't they loyal to that fiery monstrosity? Of course Link couldn't ask and in that moment the others returned laden down with many objects.
The next hours were pure unadulterated hell for Link. Other than the occasional command to lift an arm or move a leg, he was forced to stand in the same spot. The four demons, standing out in stark contrast to the white room with their black robes, had taken to the task of quite literally scrubbing him from head to toe. Removing any and all impurities as they had grumbled several times over.
The first thing they had done upon the return of the other three was to spread some warm smelling green concoction over every inch of his body except the top of his head and upper part of his face. Within seconds of being applied the stuff had begun to burn like the magma in Eldin. After letting it sit they had taken it off with these strange scraper type things that made it feel as if they were pulling off his skin in the process. They'd even gone so far as to spread it between the cheeks of his rear and along his genitals. As they had scraped it from his lower regions one of them had made a comment, which not only confused the poor hero made him dread just what was to come.
The demon had been holding his manhood, removing the green burning substance, when he made the ideal comment. "He hasn't been circumcised. We'll need to do that today as well."
The others had merely given bored mutterings at this, but offered no clarification as to the observation. It was not long after they had finished removing the odd substance that Link learned not only what the green stuff was, but what circumcision was.
"Double check and be sure there isn't a single hair left on the body, we can't afford anything less than perfection. While she's doing that you two prepare to circumcise him."
Within a matter of minutes the two returned with a small device, with a wicked looking blade. Unable to stop what happened next Link could only watch in horror then suffer in silence after the deed was done. Agony was not the right word for what he was feeling, even worse was the fact the demons seemed to care not for the pain they had just put him in, continuing with their sick jobs as usual it would seem.
Next they rinsed him and the area around him with several buckets of ice cold water that had him breaking out in goosebumps. After that they began scrubbing him down with what seemed to be the harshest cloths ever made, leaving his skin pink and raw. The soap had a cloying, husky, and flowery smell that made it difficult to breathe. It took hours it seemed for them to cleanse him as they were being incredibly thorough. They cleaned between each finger and toe, under all of his nails, all around his face, each strand of hair it would seem, and even going so far as to clean inside his ears, nose, and belly button. Worse than all of that though was when they had scrubbed within his holes. They forced him to open his mouth where every tooth was scrubbed and polished, followed with his tongue being scraped and scrubbed along with the roof and inner cheeks of his mouth. Link wasn't sure what they'd stuck into his rear or member to clean them only knowing that afterwards his rear burned and his already painful member was now on fire.
Link had no idea how long it took them to finish with him, but by the end his skin felt as if it were on fire, most every orifice throbbed in ways Link had never imagined possible, and his whole body ached from being poked, prodded, and forced to stand in one position for so long. Their final torture for him before they said they were done for the day was to force him to drink some clear thick fluid that tasted like a two day old fish, Mia had once drug up, smelled. With their final task apparently done for the day they left Link right where he'd been standing without even telling him to sit or lie down.
For what felt like hours Link stood in that spot while his legs quivered and ached, his stomach growled with hunger, and his mouth felt parched and dry. All in all Link knew it was hopeless, he couldn't even cry, not even a single tear could escape his eyes. All that was left to him was more waiting, just like in his cell, waiting for whatever was planned for him, and helpless to do anything more.
An eternity later and the human like demon was the only one that returned, still in his black robes, but smelling strongly of freshly cooked food that would have made Link's mouth water if it could. The demon didn't touch him today though, only giving him a terse command to follow.
Link's legs felt wooden as he followed the demon through another door, painted white like the walls. Inside was a large circular pool of clear blue water, the color was so odd it looked almost like ice with how calm it was. This turned out to be an accurate assessment Link found out in short order. The demon ordered the youth to submerge completely in the water, and not come out until summoned.
Link did as he was told only because the infernal rings forced him to. Once in the water Link's body naturally wanted to resurface due to buoyancy, which was a good thing since there didn't seem to be any bottom to the pool. As he floated to the top, to his horror, he found that the demon had done something to the surface of the water, and he could not rise above the surface. Panic settled in the youth's mind as he thought of drowning. It took several panic filled moments before Link realized that one: the demon had not ordered him to hold his breath, two: he was currently breathing in water, and three: he was not drowning. There was likely some special property to the icy water that would keep him from drowning, but for how long?
It seemed as if it would be for the entirety of the day and night that he would be subjected to the ice cold water. At first the weightlessness had been a blessing for his sore legs and aching body that had felt as if it were on fire since that cleansing. After so long though his body had begun to ache with a cold feeling as if icy fiery needles were running through his veins. Slowly his lungs began to ache from taking in the strange fluid, but still he could not stop. Oddly the liquid did nothing to quench his burning thirst, he was as dry as if he were in Lanayru Desert. Not even sleep could claim him here it would seem, for as exhausted as he was he remained awake. Whether that was due to the water, the rings, or both he didn't know nor did it matter for he could do nothing about it.
The hopeless nature of the situation, and his complete helplessness were new feelings to Link. Always before, even when he'd been captured on his quest or locked in that cell, he'd had some measure of control over his life and actions. But from the moment the damned rings were placed on him he'd been powerless to fight. He could try with all his might, fight it with every ounce of his will, and still he would be helpless. If they ordered him to hang himself he probably would. It was a depressing feeling knowing that he was maybe around a day away from becoming Ghirahim's sword and personal slave, yet he could do nothing to stop any of it.
This time when Link was released from his torture it was to face all four demons once again. He was ordered out of the icy water, and through to another room. This one smelled strongly of incents and burning herbs, all just as cloying as the soap had been. Once he was standing where they wanted him they immediately set to work rubbing some sort of oil all over his body. Like during his scrubbing the oil went everywhere on his body, not an inch of him was spared. As the oil was spread over him a slight burning tingling sensation creeped across his skin. In a way it almost helped drive away the chill, but only on his skin, he still felt cold down to his bones.
It took less time than before to finish with him, and soon they left via another door that Link hadn't noticed before. This door was much bigger than normal doors, if he had to guess they were as big if not bigger than the doors that lead to the final chambers in the temples on his quest. Possibly an hour later they returned only now they bore a large platform decorated in what looked like silken coverings and different ornamental plants. Four long poles stuck out from either of the corners allowing its weight to be borne on the demon's shoulders.
Link could have sworn he felt his stomach drop out on him, it looked very much like the sacrificial platforms used in ancient times according to their history texts. According to those old texts when Skyloft was first formed one person was chosen every year to be flung off the island. For whatever reason they believed that in this way they were honoring Hylia, and by preforming these sacrifices they would be able to return to the land below all that much sooner. Foolish really, luckily the practice had been stopped as memories of the surface world faded.
As he stood there Link watched the demons add more decorations to the platform he was sure would lead to his doom. Link could tell Ghirahim had had quite a hand in deciding on the coloring as much of it was white with flashes of red, purple, blue, and gold intermixed. If there'd been anything in his stomach Link wasn't sure that even the spell of the rings would keep it down now. He knew what was coming once he was forced onto that platform, and as much as he hated being treated as a human puppet he'd much rather stay here than face the next part of the ritual.
For the first time in a very long time Link prayed. He prayed for anything to happen so the inevitable wouldn't happen to him. War, natural disaster, rebellion, even some very pointed lightning strikes would be okay with him. Anything to stop this, but if there was one thing that Link had discovered it was that when your job was done as hero and the Goddesses had no need of you anymore they no longer cared about your existence.
"Come boy, sit," said the human demon, and Link's heart froze even as his legs carried him forward.
All too soon Link was positioned exactly how they wanted him. Sitting on his knees, one hand resting on each thigh, and head bowed down giving the look of subservience. Once they had him in place the four began bringing up large ribbons of the silk decorating the platform that was attached to the bottom. Each was layered atop the previous and brought up just above his head looking similar to a large unopened flower. The sick feeling in his stomach only worsened as he felt the platform being lifted into the air, and begin to move. He could not see thanks to the cloth covering, and only a dim filtered light managed to shine through.
Soon after they began moving Link heard the sound of at least a thousand voices cheering. Cheering for what, for the fact that his life, at least his human life, was about to end? In that moment as his demon bearers set him down Link felt his stomach and heart completely drop out. This was happening, really happening, Ghirahim was finally going to force Link to become his sword. The waiting was over.
Ghirahim
Ghirahim sat on his knees before the altar in the temple as he had been for the better part of three days now. It was the requirement of the soon to be king to spend the three days praying and fasting while the vessel for his sword was prepared. Ghirahim found it exceedingly difficult to kneel before the gods of the demon world and focus on his prayers when there were other things far more enticing to focus on, like a certain blonde who was very likely being oiled up and readied for presentation.
Ghirahim licked his lips in anticipation. Soon, very soon, all the hard work he'd put into the boy for the past year and a half would come to fruition. It would not be long before Skychild was before him ready to be tempered and molded into Ghirahim's sword. Nearly as exciting was the fact that within a few short hours Ghirahim would no longer be a demon sword; only one could exist at any given time and he was ready to be free.
Those thoughts brought forth the memory of his own transformation at the hands of Demise. Demise the tyrant king that had taken over the Demon Realm by force, the first king in many millennia to have not been a demon sword beforehand. Ghirahim hadn't been there when Demise had taken over the realm, he'd still been human at the time, but that didn't mean he didn't know the stories.
By tradition each king or queen of the demon realm creates their own demon sword before they are crowned. Their sword is not only their weapon, but their protector as well. The entire job of a demon sword is to do everything in their power to ensure their master lives. The king or queen of the age may be immortal, but they can still be killed, unlike the demon swords. It is nearly impossible to kill a demon sword, and has only been done once in the entire history of the demon realm.
Normally if a king or queen of the realm dies in battle, usually using their sword at the time, their demon sword is to become the new ruler as they are lord or lady of the land. Before they can become ruler in their master's place they must choose a human to take their place, and then have their own soul removed from the sword they're bound to. It is a difficult and long process, but it is well worth it if done right. Demise in his blind furry and greed was not patient, and thus had taken many foolish shortcuts.
It was said that Demise was not a demon, only being called the Demon King after having not only killed the previous king's demon sword, but the king himself. It was unheard of, but none had stood up to challenge him either. According to the stories Demise was a God much like Hylia was a Goddess. The two had been bitter enemies in the realm of the gods and goddesses, until one day their quarrelling finally climaxed.
Demise came to the demon realm, conquered it, and then declared war upon Hylia's people determined to take everything from her. His ultimate desire was the golden power she had been entrusted to protect, but as a god he could not use it. Thus he was the first to shed his godly nature, though according to the lore he had kept most of his power, and retained his appearance as a god. The majority of his power had been used to become semi-mortal, but he still kept enough to easily conquer the land.
Likewise Hylia, having heard of Demises plans, readied her own people for battle setting in motion several plans at once. She had even gone so far as to hand pick a champion who she in turn forced to suffer so that his spirit could become stronger. It was truly sick her way of creating her hero, forcing him to suffer and despair for years so that he would become what she wanted.
As Hylia created her hero, Demise had sought to create a sword. Searching the lands he had found Ghirahim in one of the larger cities within Hylia's domain. At the time Ghirahim had had everything any human could ask for. He was the commander of the imperial guard within the city, oddly the same one where Hylia's hero was held prisoner. With his position he commanded power, and none dared cross him as it was said to simply look at him meant instant death. He had wealth beyond what most could have imagined, a fine home, servants, a wife from an arranged marriage, and a child on the way.
Oh yes he'd had everything, yet he still hadn't been satisfied with his life. At least not until the day Demise and his legion of demons attacked the city. The attack killed many including the man who had framed Hylia's hero, Ghirahim's wife, and unborn child. Before Ghirahim could even contemplate how to fight such a force Demise found him and made him an offer. It was a simple offer, he would have everything he had right now, only so much more. He would be second in command for one of the greatest beings to ever exist. If he were to join the enemy's side the warrior would be given free reign, no longer restrained by the petty laws and squabbles of humans. Ghirahim had immediately agreed to the offer, without giving himself a moment to consider his options.
The one thing Demise hadn't told Ghirahim what would be required of him in order to become this all powerful demon. Even if he had though, Ghirahim would have still agreed, never one to refuse such an opportunity. There was one shortcoming to Demise's plan that Ghirahim had no knowledge of then, and which would ultimately lead to the demise of Demise. In order for a demon sword to be crafted right it needs a few things. Carefully chosen metals blended and honed together to make it stronger than steel. Plenty of time to work the sword and design it to fit its wielder. A fine sword maker that is patient and willing to work slowly until perfection is reached. A human vessel with the mind and strength of a warrior, but the heart and purity of a child. And finally the blood of the soon to be vessel.
In the most perfect of scenarios the vessel would have been a warrior who took up his weapon with the most noble cause of defending those who could not defend themselves, and even though blood had spilt by their hand that warrior would always have the most forgiving and loving heart. In other words the Skychild exhibited all the perfect traits in order to become the sword, meaning Ghirahim had all the necessary components.
All Demise had was the blood of Ghirahim, for Ghirahim was far from pure of heart and nor were his intentions noble. Being the fool that he was and wishing to gain the upper hand against Hylia, Demise had only waited six months, had chosen the first sword maker in the realm he could find, and told her to pick the materials. The demon women had lost much of her family to Demise, and so she had sought revenge by making the sword inferior, which in turn made Ghirahim more vulnerable. Going even more so against tradition Demise had ordered Ghirahim to design his own body, and the priest to make the necessary changes. The only thing Demise had imparted upon Ghirahim had been the mark under his eye, otherwise he was too impatient to bother with it.
As Ghirahim had begun to embrace his new role in life he learned to compensate for the weaknesses Demise's ignorance and impatience had caused him. He trained hard as a fighter, becoming even better than he had been as a human. He worked to learn the magic the demon blood had bestowed on him, excelling in that as well. Demise of course, didn't mind in the least, really he encouraged the long hours of training. The war with Hylia was all that the Demon King thought about, it consumed his every waking moment, and winning was his lone desire. At least those long hours of training had proven to be beneficial when Ghirahim managed to finally defeat Hylia's hero, though at the cost of his master. Even as Hylia had been sealing Demise he had ordered Ghirahim to bring him back, to find Hylia's new form when she took it and use her Goddess given powers to bring him back to full strength.
Ghirahim had often shaken his head at the foolishness of both Hylia and Demise, both so bent on ruling all that they would go so far as to shed their divinity only to possess a power equal to that of the gods. It was by far the most asinine plan Ghirahim had ever heard, and in the end it had all been for naught. Neither of them had been able to lay a finger on that power, only Hylia's chosen hero had been able to touch that power, after having proven himself beyond worthy in the many trials placed before him.
Again Ghirahim licked his lips at the thought of his Skychild. He was strong, the strongest of his kind, and he would make for an excellent sword. There would be none that could challenge Ghirahim with the fabled chosen hero extinguishing their lives in order to protect Ghirahim's. And even should Ghirahim deign to take up the challenge of someone himself he had been sure to ready his sword beyond what was usually called for.
During the eighteen months he had had his Skychild imprisoned he had taken blood from the boy daily. Using that blood the craftsman Ghirhaim had chosen had worked to create a sword with carefully handpicked materials. The white haired demon had designed his sword with precision so that it could not only be a single blade, but a duel blade as well. His reasoning was simple, while he could wield a single blade and defeat an enemy easily, he much preferred the duel rapiers he often used. However, a vessel could only be bound to one sword, which meant the master of the demon sword could only use one sword. Undeterred Ghirahim had set out researching and designing his weapon to perfection, before finding a sword maker who was willing to make such a weapon. Once those two problems were solved and the materials were gathered, Ghirahim had set out to capture the only human who could possibly be good enoughwas to be the vessel for a divinehis sword such as his.
Ghirahim smiled at that thought, remembering shortly after he had brought the childhero here to the palace within the demon realm. The boy had been quite angry with him, unsurprisingly. His anger had doubled when Ghirahim had informed him of his purpose in bringing the youth here. His Skychild had demanded to know why him, why not choose some demon for a demon sword? As, as far as he was concerned that would surely be better than anya human. Ghirahim had laughed at the ignorance of the boy, and then informed him of the very ugly truth. Only humans could become demon swords.
To put it mildly a sword should be made of the purest materials available; demons, no matter how good or kind, have impure souls unlike humans. Humans are born with pure souls that become tainted as they go through life, so the goal in finding a candidate for a demon sword is to find a human with the purest soul. However, pure souls are not the only requirement. The human must be used to battle, likely having shed blood, but if possible there should be no other marks upon the soul.
The boy had growled at that, and again Ghirahim had only laughed leaving the boy to his thoughts and darkness. What Ghirahim had neglected to tell the confined hero was that before he could be turned into a sword he would be forced to undergo a purification process. The Demon Lord and soon to be king could barely hold back a chuckle at that thought. He knew all too well the pain the child had gone through, the more blood on one's hands meant the more agonizing the purification process.
Ghirahim smiled but was unable to go any farther in his thoughts as he heard the temple doors open. The Demon Lord did not turn around until the intruder spoke though, "My Lord, it is time."
His smile growing ever broader Ghirahim got to his feet excitedly, the waiting was done, now was the time for him to claim what was rightfully his. Ghirahim's preparations were much shorter than Link'sthe hero's had been. He had to bathe with some specialty soaps and oils, but that was about it. After his bath he was dressed in the finest of robes, all designed to his specifications. Truly he looked gorgeous, someone any demon would give their magic to be for even a day.
It was now just before sunrise as Ghirahim followed the High Priestess, who not only would help conduct the ritual but would also crown Ghirahim king by the day's end, out to an area reserved for all types of rituals that sat between the temple and the palace. The sounds of the gathered crowd swelled as the pair ascended the steps to where they would conduct the first phase of the ceremony.
Just as the first rays of light began to peek over the horizon a platform appeared on the opposite end from where Ghirahim stood, bore by four demons. Ghirahim felt the anticipation growing within him, almost to the point of bursting. The gathered commoners of the demon realm had cheered at the sight, knowing it meant they would have a new king by the day's end of the day. As soon as the makeshift litter was set down the four demons rushed forward only to kneel at Ghirahim's feet. The lead demon spoke for them all.
"My Lord, we present to you the vessel for your sword. He has been purified and is ready to accept your sword my liege."
Ghirahim nodded to the four and waved them off, to which they quickly obeyed. It was then that the High Priestess began to speak to the group at large. "Children of the demon realm today we may rejoice, for today the gods smile upon us by giving us what we have so long been without. Today we are blessed to witness not only the crowning of a new king that will surely bring us into an age of peace and prosperity, but we may also bear witness to the creation of his demon sword and newest lord of the realm. Today we will unite them together so with their combined powers we shall find protection from our enemies. May the gods bless this joining of master and servant, and may their reign continue for eons to come."
As she finished her speech the priestess turned to Ghirahim with a solemn expression. "If you please My Lord, allow me to begin the process of separating your soul from the sword."
Ghirahim nodded looking over to the platform where all the rituals would be held today. It was a small dark grayish round plinth set into what appeared to be solid ground. Many ancient runes decorated the small structure, most whose meaning had been forgotten over time. Once someone stood upon the small round structure and it was activated the ground around them seemed to disappear as the stone sank about a foot below the level of the rest of the area. To those not on the structure there was no danger, they could walk in the void area as if nothing were wrong. The moment the being atop the structure tried to step off though, they would fall to their death. It was only when the stone was deactivated that they could stepstep off the plinth.
Ghirahim refused to show any hesitation as he stepped up to the pedestal he had so long ago stood atopbeen forced onto. It was ironic almost that the very spot where his soul had been taken from him was the same spot he would be reunited with it wholly. This did not come without cost though, in the moments between when the sword was extracted from him and his soul was being separated from the weapon, he would be vulnerable. If anyone were to attack and destroy either the sword or his body he would die instantly. It was only when the body and the weapon were whole that they were invincible.
The spell the priestess would be using was unique in that it would physically separate the sword and the body, but not force him into the sword as had been done many times before.. Normally while a demon sword was in their demon form the sword was the soul of that demon, and when their master demanded they become the weapon they were created to be they switched places. The sword was the body and the person was the soul of the sword, which was essentially what made demon swords so formidable. Ghirahim laughed as he felt the spell working, painfully pulling the sword from him one last time. It was horrible to have his two state of beings physically separated, but it would be well worth it. As the tip of the sword left his chest Ghirahim lapsed into a state of almost unconsciousness.
It was over an hour later when Ghirahim came back to awareness when his soul was returned to him without the accompaniment of a sword. As the two became whole once more everything that had transpired in that hour came into his memory, like he was seeing it from two points of view. There was the view his body had of the High Priestess removing the sword and taking it to the table, only being able to see her back after that. Then the other view of his soul as it was separated from first the body then the sword soon to be returned to the body.
Ghirahim breathed a sigh of relief as he became whole again. The priestess had done well in performing the spell, it was tricky in the timing as certain potions had to be added in the right moment without breaking the flow of the chanting. "You have done well High Priestess, now my sword if you please?"
Bowing slightly the tall woman backed from the table where the sword Ghirahim had once housed rested upon the golden ornate table. It was nothing more than a sword now, simple metal, and had only been made stronger by Ghirahim's blood and soul. There was no remorse or hesitation on Ghirahim's part as he gave a quick snap of his fingers. In seconds his red magic swirled around the blade, breaking it into three pieces and fully freeing the demon from his servitude.
"Very well done My Lord, now if you will take a knee I will gladly crown thee King of the Demon Realm and all demons," the priestess' voice was hushed but still able to carry over the crowd.
The wicked grin was still plastered on the demon's face as he did just that, and with some words and prayers in the old language Ghirahim soon rose as King of Demons. As he did so a certain power rushed through him, the kind of power only felt by the king of demons. He now had the ultimate power of his people, with a simple wave of his hand he could set an entire village ablaze. There would no longer be any need for him to snap his fingers in order to work his magic, all he need do now was concentrate. How any of his predecessors ever lost with this amount of power flowing through them he didn't know, perhaps their arrogance and conceit had gotten in the way? As his power continued to build Ghirahim felt a slight burning sensation upon his face. He relished the pain even as it continued for it meant only one thing, his Fúcóng Mǎkè, or Mark of Obedience, was disappearing now that his sword was destroyed and he was king. Without a second at the sword still on the table he vanished it to the nether regions of the realm turning almost immediately to speak to his people.
"Today is a glorious day in our realm. I swear from this day forth, as long as my reign shall last, that I will work to bring the hope back to all of us that has for so long been lost. As a people we will work together to rebuild what has been destroyed, and rekindle that which has burnt out. If our hearts and spirits are strong we can become a realm worth envying once more. In order to do this we will have to find our strength, and I believe that strength is found through inspiration. It is for that reason I chose this particular human to become my sword. In his realm against all odds he fought the evil that threatened his land, and by vanquishing it he brought hope and light to his people. Little did he know that his actions served a far greater purpose than what he originally thought; by delivering his own people from darkness he in turn freed all of us from decades of tyranny. For the very boy I have chosen is none other than the Chosen Hero of Hylia!"
The ground shook as the gathered crowd let out a tremendous roar of approval at Ghirahim's words. In a way it was almost a slap in Hylia's face that indeed her hero had won the war, but the supposed enemy would be the one to keep her hero. "Let the ritual begin and we will usher in a new bright age of prosperity with a new King and a new Lord!" The crowd again went wild as Ghirahim started to ascend the stairs to where his purified vessel sat, just waiting to filled in so many ways by the newne Demon King.
Ghirahim stepped up to the raised platform, just slightly above where his Skychild sat hidden beneath the silks. Once the priestess had taken her place across from Ghirahim he twitched a finger in the direction of his Skychild causing the silks to fall away one by one like the petals of a flower opening. At last, the part Ghirahim had been waiting for had arrived. While becoming free was in of itself satisfactory it was nothing compared to the thought of having the Skychild as his servant for all of eternity. As the last of the silk fell away Ghirahim received the first look at the prize he had worked so hard to receive. There he sat with his golden hair and nude glistening body, waiting, waiting for Ghirahim.
As Ghirahim stared at the golden haired teen he saw the slightest twitch in the boy's fingers, which ceased the demon's smile for a second. It only took another second for the grin to return though as several thoughts crossed the Demon King's mind. The boy's will was strong, which was one of the reasons Ghirahim had chosen him specifically. To have someone as strong willed and independent as the hero bow down before him, unable to defy him in the slightest…well it was thrilling to say the least. The fact the boy was managing to break through the control of the rings was a bit unnerving, but Ghirahim knew that there was no turning back now. The boy couldn't escape. That didn't mean Ghirahim wasn't grateful for the fact he'd told the demons doing the purification to use all five rings.
Normally one ring was sufficient enough to force an average human into obedience, and make it so they could understand any order given to them. Only on the very rare occasion would two rings be necessary. However, Ghirahim had been a personal witness to this particular human's strength of will. He knew that one ring would likely have no effect on the boy. Despite some protests, from what was now his advisors, he had ordered theyorder the use of all five rings. And from what he just saw he was glad he took such a precaution. Anything less and his Skychild might have been able to escape, and that would have causedcause frowns all around.
"Human," the priestess' voice boomed out once again, "you have been given the distinct honor of becoming the demon sword for the new King of Demons, King Ghirahim. From this day forth you shall serve no one but him and him alone. Your every wish and desire shall be to fulfill his every wish and desire. Today you will be created anew, molded into a warrior of his choosing so that you may serve him better. Your soulYou shall then be bound to a weapon designed and crafted by the King himself so that you may aid him in times of strife. You have already undergone the first few steps of the ritual by giving your blood to your master, and then by allowing yourself to be purified so that your body and soul will be ready to accept this great honor. Now human stand and walk forward to the dais below, and receive this great honor."
Ghirahim watched as the Skychild rose and walked to where he had stood, albeit willingly, ages ago in order to become the servant of Demise. Ghirahim very nearly skipped down after the boy, all too eager to complete the ritual. Ghirahim found he was again licking his lips and flipping back his hair as he watched the morning sunlight shine off of the boy's freshly oiled body. He could already anticipate the fun he was to have for eons to come.
Once the Skychild had stepped onto the plinth Ghirahim raised his hand slightly concentrating slightly thereby activating the magic of the ancient stone structure. The hero was raised up in midair maybe a half a foot off the plinthground with arms outstretched and feet together pointing downward, looking for all the world like a human sword. Smiling broadly Ghirahim walked down the steps, back the way he came and ready to begin.
Slowly the Demon King walked around his captive a couple of times, inspecting the body that was fully displayed before him. For a moment he stared into the hard blue eyes of the boy, easily reading the emotions the childboy wasn't allowed to speak. There was a burning hatred for Ghirahim first and foremost, his eyes stating that the hero wished nothing more than to destroy Ghirahim with his bare handsown hand then likely burn him to ashes while the hero danceddance about his pyre. Beneath that hatred though was fear, delicious addicting fear. The boy was afraid: of him, what was happening, what would happen, or quite possibly all of those. Smiling Ghirahim continued his inspection, running his hands along the boy's scarred but slick body. Luckily the magic of the plinth kept him at the perfect height for Ghirahim to reach every inch of his soon to be servant.
"Tell me my liege," the priestess interrupted his thoughts, "have you decided just how you will change the boy?"
Ghirahim tried very hard to hide his grin from the High Priestess, he had sincerely been hoping for this opportunity. While he had been waiting for this moment he also wanted to draw it out, make the boy's torture that much more acute. Not only would he get to prolong this moment, but as Ghirahim explained his plan to the priestess his Skychild would hear every word. It would be pure agony for him, knowing what was about to happen to him but being unable to do anything to stop it.
Continuing to circle his captive Ghirahim began to explain his plans for his demon sword's body.
"Ah well I have given it quite some thought, and I wish to be sure any changes I make will serve me well when he becomes my weapon. I also wish to make sure he will be fully able to serve me in other areas, and that his looks shall be as aesthetically pleasing as my own so that he will not hinder my own appearance when he is near me. Over all his facial features and body are good enough that I see no need to make any changes there, or at least drastic ones. I believe I will change his coloring to something a bit bolder and less common place. Seeing as I consider him my Skychild I believe I may even give him wings upon his back, it seems fitting." As he said this Ghirahim's fingers ghosted across the back of the captive youth.
"Of course, I'll have to hollow out his bones to allow for flight. Though there is one change I most want to make. I plan for him to be able to take every one of my most precious swords within him, and to bear the responsibility and weight of more than just those swords. You see if we are to bring about a new age of prosperity and peace the people must have hope. There is one thing above all else that can bring hope to the people, and that is new life. I have every intention of making it so this boy will carry more than just my sword." Ghirahim's fingers traced around the back of the boy moving to his hard flat stomach where he pressed his hand to the flesh firmly
The priestess looked at him incredulously barely managing to utter her next question. "Sire does that…does that mean you wish to change him to a…a…female? For so long when you were making the preparations you talked of having this boy in particular. If you wanted a female to carry your young why did you not seek one out, or perhaps you would take a consort instead. These changes you speak of are most grievous, and there is a very high chance of problems occurring."
Ghirahim's face took on a dark look, and it was all he could do not to shout out at the woman or better yet run her through. Taking in a few deep breaths he tried to reply as calmly as he could. "I am fully aware of the possible ramifications, but a child between the Demon King and the Demon Lord would bring more joy to the people than if I were to use a mere consort. Furthermore I did choose this boy for several reasons. During this ceremony I have the ability to change him to fit my desires, which means I can leave him how he is on the outside and change his internal structure. I will make it so that he will be able to bear me a child and birth that child. He is my demon sword, thus he is mine to do with as I please."
The High Priestess looked appropriately admonished as she bowed her head, "Yes My King, I apologize for questioning your decision. Shall we begin, we still have much that must be completed."
Ghirahim nodded to her, but still kept his demeanor stiff. While he had her retrieve the next item they would need he again looked at the Skychild. The boy was refusing to meet his gaze as well as he could, refusing to give Ghirahim the satisfaction of seeing his emotions through his eyes. Still Ghirahim could not only see it, he could smell the fear on the boy. It was wonderful to elicit such a strong emotion from the one who had once seemed unshakable. Smirking slightly Ghirahim used his magic to lower the plinth to allow them easier access to the one time hero.
The priestess returned as the Skychild's pedestal sunk lower into the bottomless ground beneath the area. She was carrying a large, heavy looking box in her hands that she carefully placed before Ghirahim's soon to be demon sword. "Open your mouth wide, human," the High Priestess commanded of the boy.
However, the blonde's jaw only twitchedmoved slightly, not even enough to part his lips. Ghirahim growled, the boy was fighting them still. Even even when it was hopeless he still refused to quit fighting. The Demon King wanted to give the command to break that annoying will so he could no longer fight, but tradition dictated that he could give the boy no orders until the transformation was complete. With that option no longer available Ghirahim directed his words to the priestess. "He's fighting against your command, against the rings. Give the command again but more forcefully, he won't be able to resist this time."
The High Priestess looked slightly startled at these words, but nodded all the same. "Human," her voice was much stronger and firmer than before, "I ordered you to open your mouth wide. Now do so and end this useless struggle of yours."
Instantly the magic worked again and his Skychild's mouth fell open at last, unable to fight the power of all five rings any longer. Nodding the priestess knelt to unclasp the box she'd placed before them, drawing its lone occupant out before handing it to Ghirahim. The Demon King revolted slightly at the creature he held in his hands, he remembered the disgusting thing all too well. It was a sickly poisonous yellow green color with beady pink eyes. Sharp black teeth were numerous inside its purple maw that dripped salvia onto the King's hands.
The disgusting and slightly revolting creature was known as a blood eel. They were common in the wilds of the Demon Realm, normally found near bodies of water. When hunting the creature would lay in wait for its prey, watching for the ideal opportunity. When a victim swam by, the eel would strike out diving down the throat of its prey. Once inside it would suck every ounce of blood from the victim, causing its serpentine body to swell as it did so. For the next few days it would lay in hiding, digesting its stolen blood.
This particular one was a magical amalgamation of two of the creatures with a head at either end. One head would drain the victim of every last ounce of blood, while the stolen blood was spewed from the other head. The eel could magically lengthen itself so that one head could bury itself deep within the mouth of the person while the other remained in the box to fill it with blood. The box in of itself was magical as well that it kept the eel happy, healthy, and contained, but it could also fill with an almost endless amount of blood.
Scowling slightly in repulsiondisgust Ghirahim moved the creature up to the Skychild's open mouth, just in front of his light pink lips, where the eel immediately dove forward. In seconds the head had disappeared down the throat of the boy, eager to begin its nasty job. Looking on, a cruel smile adorned Ghirahim's lips as he stepped forward to whisper in the boy's pointed ear. "Think of this as good practice Skychild for taking other things in that sweet mouth of yours."
There was no reaction of course, the boy couldn't give one, but Ghirahim knew he had heard him. By now the eel had already begun to drain the hero of his blood. As he watched the ruby liquid fill the box Ghirahim nearly laughed out loud. There was no turning back now, either the child became a demon or he would die. Humans could not take this kind of treatment and it was only the magic of the plinth that would keep the golden haired youth alive throughout the process.
As his blood was drained from the sword to behim Ghirahim noticed the Skychild's peachy hue too drained, leaving him a sickly white color. However, the color intrigued Ghirahim, perhaps during the change he might just try that pale coloring?
It took nearly an hour for the eel to finish its work and begin to wriggle out from the depths of the boy. Ghirahim tugged it out, a bit harsher than necessary before handing the foul thing back to the priestess. The next part would be one of the more difficult tasks, and they could not afford any defiance from the child or missteps in the practice. If something went wrong here all Ghirahim would have would be an empty shell of a human. Taking a deep breath Ghirahim calmed his racing heart as the High Priestess began to chant in the same ancient language she had when removing the sword from Ghirahim.
As her chant increased in tempo Ghirahim summoned a special jar that he held up to the still open mouth of the youth. As he waited Ghirahim looked into the boy's face noting how listless and dull his eyes had become, it felt somehow… wrong. Shaking his head at that thought Ghirahim focused as a light seemed to be building inside the boy's mouth before finally flying out in one large forest green orb. Once the orb was fully inside Ghirahim quickly corked the bottle before looking at it.
In truth he would have never guessed the boy to have such a vibrantly glowing soul, especially after everything he'd been through. Stranger still was that it was green in color. Souls reflected the heart of the person, and green was the color of the land and forest, meaning that was where his heart truly lied. Interesting since the Spirit Maiden's had been a bright yellow showing her heart felt at home in the light, appropriate for a Goddess or someone who lived in the sky.
The thought of the Spirit Maiden's soul brought a smile to the face of the Demon King. He remembered using a spell similar, though slightly more crude, to extract her soul. The priestess' spell allowed for the soul to come out in one large orb, while the one Ghirahim had used had simplysampling caused it to rise out of her in particles. Though might have been easier to keep track ofnecessity was imperative and one solitary orb the other spell he had used was faster, and Demise had still been able to swallow her energy.
Carefully Ghirahim set the bottle, holding the soul as captive as the hero was, on the same table his sword had sat. He then created a barrier around the entire golden table just to be safe, if the jar were broken in some way then the entire ritual would fail. Now he turned to the body of the boy, which was all that was left of him. His usual vibrantly blue defiant eyes were now dull without a trace of light in them. Ghirahim looked away, it was far more disturbing than it had been a minute ago. He couldn't place why it troubled him to see the hero in this state, nor did he have time to contemplate it fully.
"My King," the High Priestess stepped up to him as she too looked over the empty shell of Hylia's Chosen Hero, "it is time to begin the change. Are you ready?"
Ghirahim looked first at her then back to his Skychild, now was the time. At long last after years of work Ghirahim finally would begin the process that would change his Skychild from human hero to demon sword.
Deciding it would be best to start with the basics and then work towards the more complex changes he again started rotating the hero's body. Still in the back of his mind he reminded himself, he needed to be sure to keep one part of the boy's humanity. The child could never be a full demon, no being could fully change they always retained some part of their previous state, so at least one human trait had to remain. After careful consideration he decided it would be the boy's personality he would keep. Ghirahim would not implant the blood lust and anger that was much stronger in demons than humans, he would keep his Skychild's compassionate heart.
Keeping his decision in mind Ghirahim began his changes with the boy's hair color. He tried several colors, none quite fitting right until he came to an inky black color. Intriguing, but still something was missing, it needed something more. After a brief moment's reflection on the slowly turning body he realized what would truly make the child's hair stand out. To the black he added a deep vibrant blood red on the tips of the unruly hair. He grew it out until it was long enough to put into a pony tail, creating a leather thong to tie it back with. The hair was still unruly and it seemed to refuse to all gather into the tie so the hero's hair was not slicked back, but it worked. He then lengthened the bangs slightly until they were two long black tendrils that touched his shoulders with their red tips. Looking at this Ghirahim decided he liked this color pattern, and perhaps that would be the theme he stuck with while changing his sword to meet his desires.
The next thing he worked on was the boy's skin tone. If his main coloring would be the black and red then it would need a background it would look striking on. With that thought and the memory of the color change as the blood was drained from the youth, Ghirahim changed the boy's skin tone until it was as white as the King's hair. Yes he'd been right, the pale white made the red and black stand out in wondrous ways. Grinning Ghirahim continued this color scheme to the boy's finger and toe nails, sharpening and lengthening them as he did so. The Skychild's teeth were made whiter except for his canines, which Ghirahim grew and sharpened until they became fangs then changed their color to the same inky black with red tips. The upper lip of the hero became black while the lower was changed to red.
Still smiling at his handy work, Ghirahim made the pupils of the hero's eyes a deeper black while the irises became a very unnerving red that would have even a Sheikah dog cringing. Carefully he made the eyelids red while black outlined the top and bottom of his eyes to come up in a swirl. He even went so far as to change the boy's eyebrowseyebrow to match while thinning and shaping them. The next task was to elongate the youth's already pointed ears, making the edges slightly jagged, then coloring the outer rim of the ear and tip the same red he'd been using, and finally adding in a red and black gem to one lobe.
The King of Demons stepped back to get a better view of his work watching the empty body continually spin. After only two and a half rotations Ghirahim knew what area needed changing next. With a devious smirk he carefully changed the member of his demon sword to the same black color, but made the head the same deep red he'd been using. The child's sac was changed to black as well while Ghirahim created a red circle around his hole, similar to a target he thought with a devious smirk. Ghirahim cherished the fact that once they put the boy back together and he fully remembered all of this the former hero would hate him with every fiber of his being.
Ghirahim finally stopped the rotating body when the youth's back was to them. Concentrating carefully he caused a set of large wings to expand from the boy's shoulders. Like the rest of him the wings were black, almost iridescent, with red on the tips. Ghirahim grew them until they would drag the ground slightly when the now black haired boy walked. For a few moments Ghirahim played around with the idea of giving his Skychild clawed feet to grip when he landed, but eventually he decided against it. It would not do to have his claws tearing into the carpet and other linens. Still his appearance needed something, and without really thinking about it Ghirahim grew out a long black and red tail. The appendage drug the ground even more than the wings, but could be used like an extra hand. The pale, white haired demon thought on this added feature, and found he wasn't sure on it. After careful deliberation he decided to keep it, if he found it annoying later on he could simply remove it with the use of a blade.
The next area for the King to change was the internal workings of what would someday be the bearer of his children. His first step was to start with the complicated task of reforming the internal organs so they could not only produce a child, but carry one as well. As with most females the hole the seed would enter by would be the hole the babechild exited by, only in this case the hole would be in a different area. Ghirahim then had to focus on directing the organs and allowing for expansion in many areas, it was complicated and he found himself focusing on the internal workings of the priestess to help create a guide. In his mind he could see the ins and outs of both, which made it slightly simpler but not much.
Fertilization would be a problem, Ghirahim didn't want to wait for the right time to impregnate the boy when he was ready. On the same token he didn't want to have the chance of the boy getting pregnant every time he took him to his bed. After a few minutes deliberation he decided that while the boy would have eggs they would only become ready to receive seed when he gave his Skychild a fertilization potion.
Then there was the question of nursing the child. Ghirahim did not want to enlarge the breasts and ruin the image of the boy, but like many mammals demon children required sustenance from their mothers. In the end he went with a rather unorthodox way which would allow for feeding but wouldnot expand the breasts inward instead of outwardin any way. It wasn't ideal, but there was really no other way to go about it.
After quite a lot of time spent making those necessary changesthere Ghirahim began the task of hollowing out the child's bones to allow for an easier flight. He then added a slight bit of muscle in all areas of the boy, but kept his lithe tone figure. He then smoothed the boy's skin, being sure to remove the many scars and blemishes covering his body, he did not want his new weapon marred in any way. He also was careful to increase the sensitivity of his newest acquisition. Hips were expanded slightly to allow for the birth, while hearing and eyesight were intensified as well. Stepping back once more Ghirahim considered his work as the High Priestess too stepped up to speak with him.
"Your Highness, I do not mean to rush you, but the day is waning fast and this must be completed by sundown. Are there any more changes you wish to make?"
Ghirahim thought about it then smiled as one last idea came to him. "I have just one more change to make then I shall add the Fúcóng Mǎkè to him. After that we will prepare the sword and finish this. If you would begin to ready the sword for me?" With a slight nod Ghirahim cleared the barrier he'd erected around the table and the soul of his demon sword allowing the High Priestess access.
The priestess nodded as Ghirahim peered into the boy's mouth, and began elongating his tongue while turning it to the black and red colors he had chosen. His own tongue had been elongated, but that was merely to make his appearance more frightening to his enemies. Ghirahim had different uses in mind for the long appendage then just to frighten worthless humans.
Now all he had to do was add the Fúcóng Mǎkè, as it was called in the old language. It was the a mark that not only designated one as a demon sword and Lord of the Demon Realm, but it also meant that the bearer would be forced to obey the one who gave them that mark. It was a mark that could only be given by the Demon King or Queen of the age. Ghirahim deliberated as to where he should mark the boy. His own had been placed just under his left eye hidden beneath his hair, but he wanted something a bit more intimate for his Skychild, though he wanted it to remain visible. With a few seconds of thought he came up with the perfect spot to mark his newest acquisition. Lowering the plinth even more he spoke the needed words before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of the youth's neck, just below and in front of his ear.
As he pulled back Ghirahim watched the mark begin to seal itself over in the customary black diamond. To this day none knew why the mark always took the form of a diamond or why it was black, though supposition was never in short supply. To put it simply it was the mark of submission that would be completed once the sword was embedded within the boy. Of course, Ghirahim had taken it a step farther than necessary for the mark. Really all that was required was that the new ruler recited the old enchantment then made some kind of mark upon their sword, usually done with a daggerknife, but the newest Demon King hadn't been satisfied with that.
Smiling at his work he thought back to the first time he saw his own mark upon his face. He had marveled at its perfection deciding then and there to form his image to be like that of such an exquisite shape, but he very much doubted his Skychild would be of the same opinion.
Pleased with his handiwork Ghirahim turned to the table where the sword he'd helped craft sat ready. Before he could begin the task of binding the hero's soul to the sword he needed to ready the boy's blood to be put back in. Stepping up to the box full of the tantalizing red liquid, Ghirahim felt a sudden thirst itch at his throat.. He had tasted the blood of his now raven haired sword many times, and it never ceased to delight him with its unusual flavortaste. He certainly hoped that quality would not be lost in the transformation. Sighing sadly since the ritual required that every drop removed must be returned to the body Ghirahim took out the dagger he'd been given when he was being dressed for the ceremony. Like most things they'd used today the dagger was ancient with a jeweled handle and the same ruin markings upon the blade as the plinth had.
Two quick swipes across his wrists allowing the liquid to flow down into the box mixing with the hero's while speaking in the old tongue once more. As the spell came to an end the blood in the box began to glow. With another bit of magic he had the wounds on his wrists healed without a trace of a scar. There was yet another benefit of being the King of Demons, he had the power to heal himself quickly even if it took a good amount of magic.
As the Demon Lord he had had to rely mainly on potions and time like humans, his magic only being enough to stem the blood loss. Once the glowing subsided the priestess again handed him that revolting blood eel. One head was quick to slither down the throat of the empty body while Ghirahim placed the other inside the box. As soon as it touched the blood the eel began to fill the body of the boy once more. With Ghirahim's own blood added to his human blood the Skychild would now become mostly demon with his only human trait left being his personality.
As blood filled the once empty body both the High Priestess and the Demon King turned toward the soul and the sword. This part would take at least two hours in order to do this properly, and so it was necessary to begin it as swiftly as possible. The onyx sword with the ruby hilt sat upon the golden table next to the imprisonedjarred soul. First there were three different potions that had to be added to the blade so it could absorb the soul. Each had to be done at a certain time in just the right intervals while the priestess spoke an almost ceaseless incantation. As each potion was poured upon then metal the sword shimmered an array of colors, and almost began to sing. Once the potions were added both the King and the High Priestess began two separate chants causing the sword to rise into the air. Their chants became more powerful, and just before the sword erected a barrier around itself Ghirahim set loose the soul that would inhabit his sword for eternity.
As the sword hung in the air the soul flew around it, looking for a way to escape, but there was no break in the barrier to allow it that. Finally after nearly seventy-five minutes of work they were allowed to draw breath, it was now only a matter of waiting for the two to become one. Ghirahim hoped that the amount of blood imbued into the sword would allow the bondingit to happen more quicklygo quicker. Blood was not only used to strengthen the blade, but it made it so the soul would, in some respects, think the sword was the body it should inhabit.
While they waited the two turned toward the blood eel only to see it had almost completed its work, and it would only be a few more minutes before it was completed. While he waited Ghirahim removed the rings, they would no longer be necessary, and with a flash of light all five were gone. It wasn't too long after that that the eel finished delivering the blood back into the Skychild, allowing the two demons to pull the creature from the boy's mouth. All that was left for them to do was pray while waiting for the soul and the sword to merge.
As the two knelt before the golden table a hush fell over the crowd where before there had been a constant murmuring. Almost as one the watching demons bowed, following the example of the two leaders in prayer. For nearly an hour the prayers sent were a constant stream until at last a shining green light indicated the prayers had been answered and the gods of the demon realm had accepted the bonding.
Standing Ghirahim faced the boy who in mere moments would awaken as a completed demon sword, absolutely loyal to him, rather he liked it or not.. Taking the same knife he'd used on his wrists the Demon King drew a circle upon the boy's chest quickly followed with the symbol of the demon realm inside. It was a complicated design that was hard to describe other than it was both similar and dissimilar to the symbol of Hylia's people.
The mark glowed red, anticipating what was to come next. With a firm grip, after stowing away the dagger, Ghirahim took his newly imbued blade, readying it in both hands. With one final smirk at the boy Ghirahim plunged the blade deep into the chest of the Skychild.
The entire body of the hero arched as a blinding flash obscured their vision. Ghirahim chuckled as the light began to die and the sword sunk into the body of Hylia's Chosen, finally binding the boy to Ghirahim and forcing him to become his weapon.
. "The wait is finally over, you're mine now hero," he whispered quietly knowing his new demon sword could hear him even if he didn't fully comprehend the words.. The grin never left his face as red eyes opened wide, awareness returned, and pain clouded the face of the newest demon sword.
