"Once upon a time, in a floating kingdom, there lived a princess."
"But she wasn't really a princess," I interjected.
"Technically, her father was a headmaster, not a king, but at times, she felt like a princess, especially when she was given the honor to play the Goddess Hylia in the Wing Ceremony. She became very excited and wait to tell her prince."
"He wasn't really a prince." I often had to correct Mother, she liked to make her stories into fairytales. I knew this was a story about her and Father. Mother says that they used to live on a floating island in the sky, but I'm not so sure about that.
"He was a knight." She protested.
"He was learning to be a knight." I corrected.
'Do you want to tell the story?" She didn't like it when I interrupted her.
"No mother, you tell it much better. I'll be quiet now."
"He was a silly boy, given to oversleeping and being lazy at times, but she loved him nonetheless. They were the best of friends. He did not have a mother of his own and so she would fill that role, making sure he woke up at the right time, that he packed his lunch and did his homework. She always encouraged him to do his best."
"Father says you nearly killed him by pushing him off the island."
"I wanted him to have some more practice with his bird before the competition."
"And the statue of Hylia."
"I gave him a Sailcloth. He was fine. Anyway, one day when the two were out flying, a black tornado appeared and took the princess Zelda away from her home and her prince. She faced many challenges with the help of her loyal protector Impa, including being used by Ghirahim to reawaken Demise."
"Father crushed him."
"I suppose you could say that, but the entire island came crashing down from sky. It was alright though, no one was really injured too badly. In the end, the princess and her prince lived happily ever after on the surface world with their lovely daughter Clover, who should really be getting to bed if she wants to be well rested for her birthday celebration tomorrow."
"Just one more story?"
"No, it's bedtime."
"Please?"
Mother gave me a glare and I pulled the covers over my head and pretended to be asleep.
The boy who stood before Ghirahim, decked out in green with blonde hair and sword drawn couldn't have been older than six, but his glare of determination and appearance reminded Ghirahim of someone much older, someone from his past. The resemblance and piercing glare was unsettling. Ever since that boy Link had bested him, Ghirahim had been afraid of him, though he didn't like to admit it. He had never expected to see him again, not in this world. In this world, he controlled who could enter, and he only let children enter, children too young to be able to defeat him, but old enough to play with. Ghirahim vanished from sight. They boy scanned the room, turning in circles, trying to find Ghirahim.
"Show yourself!" the boy demanded. Ghirahim's laugh echoed throughout the great hall. He materialized on the boy's right side.
"Did you miss my pretty face?" he asked, his tongue extremely close to the boy's ear. The boy turned fast and Ghirahim's tongue swiped across his face.
"My name is Fern, and I will kill you, monster," the boy declared.
"With a wooden sword?"
"It doesn't matter what it's made of, so long as it pierces your heart." Fern lunged at Ghirahim, thrusting the tip of the wooden blade towards the Demon Lord's heart. Ghirahim simply raised his hand and the weapon vanished into a cloud of diamonds. The boy stared at him.
"What have you done with my sword?"
"It's up there, Dearie," he said, pointing to the chandelier which hung about high above their heads. "You can't reach it."
"You watch me," Fern said as he grabbed the drapes and began to climb. After he had successfully tore the curtains and given the wall a big hug, Ghirahim tried to talk some sense into the deluded child.
"You foolish boy, come back down before you hurt yourself."
"If I were you, I'd worry more about your safety than mine," he explained as he climbed one more foot and grasped around desperately for a handhold. Ghirahim teleported over to Fern on the wall and the shocked boy let go. Even after he fell, the stubborn child refused to scream and instead simply shut his eyes and let his body go limp. He didn't have long to fall, however, because at that moment, a temporary floor composed of orange diamonds appeared directly below him. It slowly lowered him to the floor. Fern was confused. Ghirahim was not pleased. He drew his own metal dagger with his right hand and gripped Fern's neck with his other. Not tightly enough to choke him, but enough to ensure that he wouldn't be able to escape.
"I told you that you couldn't reach it. Did you think that I was lying to you?"
"I don't see any reason why you wouldn't, monster." Ghirahim smiled.
"There are two things that you need to know." Fern stood as still as he could as Ghirahim made an incision on the back of Fern's forearm. "Firstly, my name is Lord Ghirahim, but you may call master." Blood poured from the cut and began to stain Fern's sleeve. "Secondly, I have been many things in my life: murderer, prostitute, thief. And that was all during the single digit years of my life." Ghirahim smiled, tore away the sleeve, and ran his tongue along the boy's arm, licking up the blood and leaving a trail of saliva on the wound. "But I'm no liar." Then he drew back, snapped his fingers, and sent the boy away to a dungeon cell in the cave of shadows (when you are stranded in your own world, it only makes since to give everything a fabulous name).