AN: i literally know zero italian at this point. i used to take it, i dont anymore. im really sorry if you speak it, because this is all google translated. itll have translations in parentheses next to it, but this is merely for the readers.
also, i actually have no idea how actual ancient hylian works. all i could find is that it is similar to latin, so i based it off of that. if any of you can point me to a source that has figured out the real conversions, you would be awesome and i would probably love you forever.
Pondering.
This was a word that could describe Ghirahim at this moment: he wasn't thinking, no, that took far too much effort. He was simply… pondering. The sunlight filtered through the leaves above him, and he pondered his existence, the four-hundred-odd years he had spent waiting for the sign that his work was not in vain, that the Goddess had returned and he could bring back the essence of his life. The woods around him were alive with constant movement, and he was a statue, the Ponderer, posed in a rather cliché way atop his favorite tree. The birds twittered in the trees
and then the twittering was replaced with the shouts of angry men. Confusion and contempt filled the demon's mind, along with the feeling of falling and an intense exhaustion, like he had just teleported thousands of miles. His vision, earlier so full of greenery and light, was replaced with darkness and stone, and disorientation. He found himself lying on cold, hard ground – What is going on? People were speaking in strange tongues around him, and he felt something clasp around his limp wrists. He was being carried – dragged – to somewhere, something. Someone? He couldn't tell; the weariness was blurring his vision, and he couldn't breathe. Darkness seeped into his eyes and he
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