Disclaimer: Skyward Sword and involved characters belong to Nintendo.
Please note, although not immediately present, this will be a Ghirahim x Link central fic.
Temporary cover art drawn by Raven-igma! (Check out her fanfic Propane Nightmares!)
Pain can be such a remarkable thing.
When coupled with defeat it becomes unspeakably powerful and plagues even the greatest of minds. Like a parasite, it slowly grows within its host until it gives birth to something far greater...something much more formidable.
Hatred.
Seething, unadulterated hatred.
In this heat, every little detail is committed to memory. Such details you may have conveniently forgotten, but I remember all too well.
For you see, when the mighty fall, it is a horrendously tragic and unforgettable experience. Mere moments ago, they were radiant with such power and dominance, that victory was unquestionable. Far too secure on their pedestal, they had failed to notice the gathering snakes encircling their feet. All it took was a clever, little twist and the tides had taken a drastic turn.
It was a shame really, they had just been crowned with glory before fate decided to strip them of that right, and with it, their divinity.
Why, they had almost become unrecognizable!
Yet who knew—yes, who could have possibly known that the goddess herself could be so artful in manipulation. So...what's the word?
Apathetic.
Hylia had not flinched when her beloved humans had fallen, had not wept when they were devoured and torn to pieces. Not a single bat of those golden lashes when all that remained were pitiful shreds. No, her face was as still as sacred water, sparing not even a ripple of concern.
How she maintained such an infuriating confidence in her pets was beyond me. Their loyalty had been equally baffling, absurdly eager to sacrifice themselves for their land and Hylia's cause. Blindly, they held onto the belief they would be saved and clung onto her empty promises.
Ha! The goddess must have loved stupid creatures, for she made so many! They were nothing more than a brainless bunch of cattle being herded towards a set of waiting jaws. And for what cause? To buy her precious hero more time? She certainly had no reserves about being expedient and dismissing her little pawns once they've expired their uses.
How exceptional cruel of you Hylia.
You remained disturbingly poised and much too calm, a silent onlooker at the crumbling world below. Even with your decreasing numbers, your face never changed, not even a crease of that delicate brow, still as a statue and pointlessly elaborate. A disgustingly perfect statue that stimulated nothing but a rise in temper. It gave me a terrible itch that left me with a strong appetite for bloodshed. Naturally, carving into your milk-fed humans was quiet the stress reliever and allowed me to exercise creativity.
Oh? Are you surprised at how much I thrilled at ending their lives? Thrived in seeing the fear in their eyes?
Perhaps I should elaborate so I can gain your appreciation.
The stench of blood filled the air, intoxicating us and driving our forces forward in drunken glee. In our wake, we left a trail of mirthful death, marks of our triumph. We tore through them with tremendous ease, each body offering a beautiful note of pain that inspired an orchestra of anguished cries to ripple through each piteous wave. Their howls of defeat were a wonderful tribute, but it was their screams of terror that invigorated truly us.
Oh and how I basked in it! How I swayed to the rhythm of our war drums thundering through and weighing down on their wilting numbers. Even when they continued to stubbornly opposed us, their eyes told us we had done more that we had hoped for; we instilled fear.
That wretched flame, their gallant efforts, would soon cease to be. Already, we could see the doubt creeping behind their eyes and soon, very soon, that doubt would flourish into betrayal. Your fickle pets will accuse you of abandonment, perhaps even question your existence. In turn, they will fall to our feet, sniveling and pleading for their despicable lives to be spared. Such frail, pathetic creatures. Their extinction had been long overdue.
We had won Hylia. It would not be long before we choke out their courage and loyalty to you. Their ever growing hesitation was a sign that the fruits of our labor were ripening. Their crumbling bodies were mere stepping stones to the order of a new world.
A new era was to be born–our era.
Your alliance with the tribes meant nothing to us. Your combined forces could not even hope to hinder us. They were hardly a wrinkle in our perfectly fabricated plans. Not even your so called chosen hero could save you. This...this fabled mortal boy that would ruin us.
Ruin us! I have never been so wildly humored!
...and to think that you had spoken so highly of him. With insufferable confidence no less! Spoke as though that he alone would prevail and end the war. That he, this insolent brat, would save your whimpering pack of diseased dogs you call humans. That you had credulously given your blade for him to wield on your behalf.
How preposterous! It was laughable!
This poor, miserable little whelp. So woefully naive and blind, following whatever sweet scented trail you've left for him. What nectarous lies did you feed him Hylia? What bitter promises did you give him that he so willingly reduced himself to be a mere extension of yourself? To senselessly dare and challenge my master?
Had the sight not been so hysterical, this would have been a great offense! A great injustice! But master humored him, perhaps out of the limited kindness of his heart. Had this boy heeded my master's warning and surrendered, then perhaps his life would have been spared.
No, he remained a fool.
Such a fool.
Struck down, he struggled by our feet, floundering like a fish out of water. Groans bubbling passed his bloodied lips, he stared at us with such defiance. Despite his broken body, his eyes burned brightly, shining when they were not supposed to. Such vibrancy! Unlike his fallen comrades, there remained a vicious fire that refused to die. There was something inescapable about it, something haunting and unnatural, like a sun that never sets. No matter how many clouds gathered before him, his glare would ceaselessly pierce through. Somehow I found this...distracting, perhaps even unnerving.
I was almost inclined to hasten the boy's death, but sure enough, his body began to droop, as if unraveling muscle by muscle. Finally he grew still and his eyes closed, troubling me no longer. Yet I could not help but watch for a few more moments, somewhere caught between fascination and...
...No, I would not say sympathy, but the distaste of seeing an abused, forsaken animal. His disposability should not have come to any surprise to me, but I imagined he would have been more favorable than that.
No matter, like the obvious inferiority he was, it would not be long until death had fully embraced him. Master had more pressing matters at hand and I, of course, was to accompany him. The time had come to put an end to your reign on power. In our advance, legions upon legions of every beast and demon imaginable behind our every step, I could not help but wonder how your face would change when met with defeat. Would fear glaze over your eyes? Would you submit? Kneel in supplication and cry for mercy? Bow so low that the tip of your nose would peck at the earth?
It almost pained me to imagine you so terribly alone and...how to say?
Crudely Forgotten.
Your precious land had been spoiled beyond repair, once proclaimed as a holy place where you were adored by many. Now it could not be further away from such a thing. There was nothing left but an infestation of squealing pigs in human clothing. However there was a certain satisfaction in watching them being driven mad with fear. The defeat of your champion had impelled them to abandoned their will to fight entirely! Perhaps that was when they decided that retaining honor was an undesirable practice. It was fascinating really, how quickly their hearts and intents had changed into something so very primitive. Like all animals, they were guided by the instinct to survive and fled without thought, foolishly corralling themselves within the castle walls to cower and hide.
Oh? Did it sting to have them shut you out so readily?
It was all too perfect, watching every carefully planned piece fall into place and build and build, until finally, the stage had been set. With Your Grace as our audience, one would say it was within our best interested to ensure that our performance would leave you absolutely breathless. So memorable, so astonishing that our act would be written in the stars as history. Our crowning glory would be one of legend, so awe-inspiring that the elders of future generations would tell great tales of our victory and immortalize us with sacred songs. They would erect statues and temples in our honor where they would gather and chant in admiration.
Ah, such a wonderful thought, to be forever worshiped until the end of time. Did it not make you tremble with delight?
Oh...but you were just biding your time weren't you?
Cleverly waiting for your pawns to position themselves appropriately before you made your move. In hindsight, we should have been suspicious when you summoned the dragons. We had not counted on their involvement, and being such proud, reserved creatures, it had been strikingly odd how responsive they were to come to your aid. Still, like the rest of your servants, they would be susceptible to failure and their efforts would be in vain. Surely, they could not pose any possible threat. Absolutely not.
But then that accursed light appeared.
A golden pillar so searingly bright, that I was nearly blinded when it lifted a fragment of land into the sky. Upon closer examination, I saw that the selected outcropping had been the castle where the humans had taken refuge. Although the majority remained cowering within their shelter, a small group emerged to gawk at the shrinking world below them as they ascended into the heavens. Overwhelmed they dropped to their knees and called out in desperation, reaching down as if to grasp at something being left behind.
Something I recognized.
Bathed in light, at the very base of the pillar was a lone figure, bent down on one knee with a sword driven deep into the earth. Through the blinding rays I saw a familiar set of piercing eyes...
Eyes that taunted me, infuriated me. Eyes of a miserable, stubborn roach that had wrongfully crawled out of his hole. Eyes that should have been empty, debilitated, bereft of life! Why! Why did he strive after you've used and discarded him so readily? When his frail, expiring body was on the verge of collapsing? It was ineffable, it was outrageous, appalling and vehemently disgusting! It was...it was...
Perhaps that was when you struck me down. I was no longer by master's side and found myself supinated and disoriented. To this day I curse myself for being so carelessly distracted by that brat's emergence. When I came to my senses the unthinkable had happened.
My master, driven to his knees before you.
Light, igniting and spreading like wildfire had engulfed his body until he was barely visible. From what little I could see of his shriveling form, he seemed to be sinking deep into the earth as though it were water. When his presence was no more, I was riddled with confusion and disbelief. Immobile and shamefully weak, I came to realize that the world around me had become barren and unimaginably quiet. Like the snuffed flame of a candle, all carnage and destruction had come to an insultingly abrupt end. Our army—our great army had shattered and dissolved under your breath, purged into darkness where you granted no return. Your sweeping hand left no stone unturned, ridding the world of any you deemed villainous. Not even the fleeing or conceding cowards were spared. The demon king and his subjects were to be sealed away in a forsaken realm for all eternity.
Yet I remained.
Alone with an unbroken silence.
Watching you, cursing you, making ill-willed promises and vows. Your eyes met mine and only then did I realize how much I truly loathed you. Standing there so sanctimoniously, so painfully perfect in your every step, poised and balanced with such self-assurance. Your words were unnecessary and trivial but when they lingered, it left a bitter taste that I could not get rid of. The more I tried to wipe myself free from them, the more it made me sick with anger, swaying and shaking hysterically with my illness.
Of course, you could not pay any mind. You had to attend to your little, deceased pet.
And here I thought you had forgotten about him.
His eyes were finally closed in eternal sleep and all color had left his face. Cold and limp against your arms, the blood had already dried against his dulled clothing. Still, you gathered him close and spoke. Spoke as though you had a shred of sympathy for the boy. Spoke as though you grieved over his loss. A voice laced with a false, motherly tenderness. Such talent you had! Such artful deception! The lies you weaved were so intricate that I nearly found them convincing. How applaudable!
Oh? Do I sense the dawn of a frown?
It is common knowledge that emotional attachment offers no advantage. After all, one would say that was the secret to your success. Or does the crease of your brow imply that you actually have developed feelings for your treasured pet? Although doubtful, if such a thing were true I would sing how the mighty has truly fallen!
No, this was nothing more than a ploy to ensure your ascendancy. Without hesitation you were whispering new plans for him, a carefully composed script he must follow in his next life and the very next, generations upon generations. Promising him that you would always be by his side for all eternity to help him prevail.
How remarkable. Even in death, you are relentless to him Hylia, but I suppose no good deed goes unpunished. Or did you simply enjoy tugging on the threads of fate? Collecting them around your finger and watching us dance for you? What a sad existence that must be; nothing more than a manipulated puppet being bent and twisted for your pleasure.
Beloved, limited, replaceable puppets.
Apologies, I'm sure they were all designed for a greater purpose with incomprehensible rewards. How thoughtless of me! How could I ever doubt such virtuous intentions? Shall I be a thrall to your machinations? Be grateful that you've decided to add me to your collection when I was beginning to enjoy the silence? My, my there really is no rest for the wicked.
Oh don't worry that precious, little golden head of yours. We will be meeting again soon. It is, after all, the will of the goddess.
Zelda woke in a tangle of blankets. Heart racing and throat dry, it took her a moment to gather her wits and realize where she was. Seeing that she was still in her bedroom, she huffed out a ragged sigh and let her head sink into her pillow.
How many times has she had dreams like this? It had hardly been a week and they were already increasing in frequency. They had been so few at first, acting like a distant heartbeat that would mostly go unnoticed. Now they raged at her like a pounding headache demanding attention. She had not expected them to escalate into a nightly occurrence, and certainly did not count on having her sleeping schedule compromised. This frustrated as much as it troubled her. They never felt like dreams. Surreal as they were, they seemed too explicit to be a product of her subconsciousness. Were they visions or remnants of forgotten memories?
What puzzled her most was why the dreams were happening nearly two years after Demise's defeat. While she had been steadily regaining more memories of her formal life as the goddess since then, they had not been as pronounced as of late. In her waking hours they had been mostly dormant and she would get occasional, brief glimpses of familiar imagery. However, in the company of her dreams, they were almost rampant and alarming, nearly stunning her whenever they would flash through her mind. Often, when she contemplated on what she learned, she found herself feeling more confused and disturbed than frightened.
Despite this, she knew there were still a fair amount of critical details missing. Details in which she, no matter how hard she tried, could not remember. It felt like she was trying to look over a large, billowing veil that covered all corners of her view. Although it was thin enough to see passing shapes, it offered no clarity and was either too wide or high for her to peer over. Occasionally she would spot a small tear she could spy through and try to fathom what was on the other side. However, instead of finding answers to her questions, she was only perplexed with more questions. In her eagerness she had tried to stretch open the tears wider, but would then ponder if she was truly prepared to face what was beyond the protection of the veil. Did she really want to know all the dirty details of what Hylia—what she had done for her own self purpose at the expense of others?
Zelda sat up and pressed a palm to her forehead. Maybe she didn't need to decide now. In fact, what she needed right now was a fresh glass of water.
Pushing herself off the bed, she eased her feet to the wooden floor and made her way to the wash basin. Passing by her chair, she noticed something draped over the arm and made a note to revisit it later. Once refreshed, she made her way back towards the chair and saw her latest sewing project had been waiting for her there; Link's upcoming birthday present. Sighing, she knew she would never sleep now. Or rather, if she did, it would be short lived. At the very least, she could make some progress and finish his present early, especially when winter was just around the corner.
Although it would certainly help take her mind off things, a small pang of guilt stirred within her. She had promised to practice archery with Link this morning, but with the night being as disruptive as it has been, she doubted she would have the energy and enthusiasm to fully enjoy the session. They would have to reschedule for another day, preferably less eventful than this night.
What if she wrote a letter?
Zelda smiled. Yes, just like old times, she could have her Loftwing deliver the letter to him first thing in the morning. Nodding to herself in approval, she made her way towards her desk. As she inked her quill she couldn't help but giggle at the recollection of fonder memories.
Looks like she'd be the one sleeping in this time.
Author's Notes
Whelp! After, like, forever, I've finally started on my big fic I've been planning for ages! What will unfold from here? I'm really excited to get this story started, so any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated and helpful! Reviews are especially motivating and encouraging! ^_^
