The sight that met Zelda took her breath away, quite literally. She tried to breathe, or to scream, to make a noise of some kind, but all that came out was the tiniest of squeaks. It was enough.

There were hundreds of them. There had to be at least hundreds. Thousands? She had never had to estimate numbers that big before. All she knew was that there were more than she wanted there. They were just like the creature that she had seen the night before. Honestly, apart from immensely tiny differences between them they all looked about the same. She didn't want to get close enough to be able to see those tiny differences.

They all looked up practically in unison and they clearly detected her presence because they emitted a strange noise of recognition, not too unlike a squawk and yet unlike anything she had ever heard.

And then they were coming at her, a massive wave of red skin, brown leather, and shiny blades. She fully expected to die then and there. It was fortunate for her, however, that her companion had a lot of experience in being scared and knew exactly what to do. It spun on its heels and dashed into the woods, and Zelda, who was holding its hand in a death grip, was dragged with it.

They fled into the trees, dodging branches and trunks with their only goal to get away. Although she didn't dare look over her shoulder, she could hear the sounds of pursuit- apparently these creatures were not deterred at all by the trees. She kept her eyes carefully glued on the path in front of her. She couldn't risk tripping and falling again. Not this time.

She rapidly scanned the woods in front of her for threats, a habit that had been carefully instilled back in the academy. Even in the depths of her terror, she couldn't help herself. That was how she first saw him.

He was crouched down, but not relaxed. Rather, he looked poised, like he was about to spring to his feet. His hair was a ghostly white and his skin was unnaturally pale. He looked out at the world through black eyes, which were underlined by dark circles, the closest thing to color on his face. While his pointed ear would indicate that he came from Skyloft, she could tell, just by a glance that he didn't.

Perhaps it was something in the way he looked at her, but she could tell just by the sight of him that this was the demon. She knew then that Impa had been telling the truth and that this monster, whatever it was, was far worse than the woman could ever have been.

She saw him. He could see it in her eyes. She looked beyond terrified, wild even. He had seen that look only in trapped animals. But that's what she was, really, a trapped animal. His horde on one side and himself on the other. He wondered which she thought was worse.

She skid to a stop when she caught his eye, as though she knew instinctively not to get any closer to him. He wondered if that had to do with his appearance, or if it was a side effect of the power within her. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she reach his hands, intact.

Her sudden stop wrenched the Kikwi's hand from her grasp and it continued charging through the woods without her, but the demon paid it no mind. It was beyond insignificant at this point. Now there was only the horde, the girl, and him.

He smiled at her and waved pleasantly. She took off running again. Dreadfully rude, he thought, as he stood up to begin pursuit.

She couldn't run towards that man, that much was obvious, but she couldn't run back towards the monsters. She did the only thing she could think of and dashed off to the side, nearly slipping in her haste to turn. She heard the demon grunt in annoyance and take off after her, but she couldn't turn around to see him. There was no way to know how close he was, but it was obvious that he was too close for comfort.

Her legs were long and she ran to her breaking point, covering ground faster than she had imagined possible. Branches whipped past her and scratched her already tender legs but she didn't care. She didn't care when she stubbed her toes on rocks or when she lost her balance and fell. She simply pushed herself off the ground and continued running. It was all she could do, but she knew, before she had gotten more than a hundred yards, that it wouldn't be enough.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw that some of the creatures, maybe five or six, had expected her to turn and were fast approaching from her right. She tried to give herself a burst of speed to power past them, but she had no energy left. In a few seconds they were in front of her, blocking her path.

The one in the lead charged forward, raising its blade above her head. She jumped back just in time. The creature gave a screech of annoyance and swung again, aiming for her midsection. She tumbled back once more. Now the other four that she could see had caught up to her and were moving to support the creature in the lead. They raised their weapons, too, but couldn't get in a decent swing before the first creature lunged forward, stabbing towards her stomach. She leapt back once more, out of the creature's range.

Suddenly, there was a tearing pain in her back. The air left her lungs and her mouth and eyes opened wide in shock. She didn't scream or cry, but tears began to roll down her face of their own accord. And yet she could see the blade the creature held in front of her. It had missed completely. 'How?' she wondered, using the last of her self-control to slowly glance over her shoulder.

What she saw there made her spirits sink. She had dodged the one blade, and in doing so, had impaled herself on another. This was the moment when she knew she should have screamed, but, in her shock, all she managed was a soft whisper of, "Oh." The creature behind her removed its sword from her skin, while blood poured from the wound. It didn't show against the creature's red skin, but the crimson wave was obvious to her.

She didn't fall to her knees, as she would have expected. Her knees didn't bend. Instead, her whole body fell backwards, into the creature's arms. It hadn't been expecting that, and immediately dropped her in surprise. She fell to the ground, a puddle of blood spreading out beneath her and being absorbed by the wet ground. It wasn't pain that she felt. More... emptiness. Her breath was coming in short gasps now, and she waited for the world to black out around her and for death to take her.

Instead, she heard a loud curse from behind her. Suddenly, the world was illuminated a bright orange color and the monsters around her all took a few steps back, stumbling over themselves to get away.

"Back to the lake! Get back to the lake, all of you." There was a voice, but Zelda didn't recognize it. Her vision was fuzzy and she couldn't quite see the speaker. But she heard the commotion as the monsters tried to escape, each faster than the other and none particularly successful.

"Shit," the voice whispered. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Her mind was slowing and she couldn't quite figure out why he was cursing. This was really quite relaxing after all. The darkness creeping into the corner of her vision was more soothing than anything else.

"Stay awake," the voice continued. It was forceful and angry. Two hands reached under her and flipped her over. A heavy pressure landed on her back and she closed her eyes in annoyance. She wished it would stop. It was very comfortable before. "Didn't you hear me? Damn it. I said, stay awake."

She didn't know why the voice was angry at her, but she didn't like it. It was with a small amount of spite and no small amount of relief, therefore, that she kept her eyes shut, relaxed her muscles, slipping gratefully into unconsciousness. The last thing she heard was the voice, that mean voice, swearing yet again.

Ghirahim was still swearing two hours and forty five minutes later, when the girl was still lying unconscious. His hordes could tell just by listening that this was bad. As he was a man who prided himself on maintaining a certain culture, a sense of dignity, it was rare for such vulgar language to pass his lips. It was easy enough to provoke him to homicidal rages, but to get him to curse like this, one had to be truly skilled. Whoever this girl was, it was plain that she was important.

Ghirahim paced around her limp body, stopping every few seconds to check her pulse or to prod her and see if she responded. There was nothing he could do, and he knew it, but the waiting was impossible.

He despised waiting, almost as much as he despised cursing. Now he was doing both and had been doing both for nearly three hours. His horde cowered near the edge of the lake, careful not to disrupt him. The unfortunate monster who had stabbed her, under what he had assumed were the Lord's orders, was suddenly grateful his identical appearance gave him a certain amount of anonymity. They waited with baited breath as he paced, all but certain that their doom was coming.

He had performed what medical treatment he could in the woods, and, when the bleeding slowed, had moved her down towards the lake, laying her face down on the rock where he had been lounging not so long ago. The bleeding had slowed and stopped with his efforts, but he didn't know nearly enough about healing to bring her back easily from the brink of death. He had called off the siege for the moment, knowing full well that he couldn't deal with the water dragon's resistance and care for the girl at the same time. Truthfully, he would have been much happier moving her to the sealed grounds right away, but he didn't know if he could fend off the old crone and watch the girl. For that matter, there was no telling what the journey would do to her health. Human anatomy was so unpredictable. And, if they managed to attract the attention of the servant of the goddess in the process, there was almost no chance of getting to the grounds alive. No, he'd just have to accept that there'd be no moving her until she had recovered some and he had a plan.

Once more, he leaned down and pressed his ear to her chest, just to hear the feeble heartbeat that meant that she was still alive. He still had a chance. Suddenly, he stood up and screamed in anger. Anger at his minions that couldn't tell the spirit maiden apart from any other prey. Anger at the idiot girl who landed on a blade. Hell, she practically jumped on it. And most of all, anger at himself.

Why had he run after her? Why didn't he just teleport? Did he think it would be more satisfying to take her down at a full sprint? What had he been thinking?

It wasn't often that he found himself doubting his own abilities. On the rare times when he did, it was often accompanied by a self-loathing that very easily translated into loathing of those around him. His hordes had learned long ago not to approach him when he was in this sort of mood.

He cursed a few more times and resumed his pacing. This waiting was endless. It was torture. Then he heard it.

It was a soft moan, barely audible, but he heard it. He dropped to the ground and lifted the girl's head up slightly. Her pale face was scrunched up in pain. That was good. For a moment she stilled again, and he feared it was merely a temporary change. But then she moaned again, louder this time, and her eyes fluttered a little. Slowly, they opened and he found himself looking eye to eye once again at the spirit maiden.

It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside of him. Instantly, with that one little glance, all of his plans were restored. He laughed loudly, something which was nearly frightened his minions as much as his screaming. He laughed that he had ever doubted himself. Laughed at the thought that this girl would foil him with something so simple as her death.

She would not escape that easily.

As if in response to his thoughts, the girl began to struggle to sit up, to move. Her movements were slow, pained. He smiled as she pushed the bulk of her weight off the ground. She very nearly succeeded in sitting, before he reached out and calmly pressed his fingers, hard, into the wound on her back.

The pain wasn't really so bad, but she screamed in surprise. Her arms buckled and collapsed under her weight. She fell, hard, back to the rock. He reached out and touched her hair, stroking it but also pressing firmly down, keeping her head down on the rock.

"Hush," he whispered. "You've had a shock and the bleeding only just stopped. It would be such a shame to make it start again."

He kept her head down, her cheek pressed to the cool rock, so he could not see her face or the fear in her eyes. Yet, he could hear it in her voice when she at last spoke. "What happened?"

"An accident," he answered, vaguely, knowing full well that it would do nothing to relieve her curiosity or her fear. Licking his lips, he waited for her to ask his name. He did so love to introduce himself. He had a whole speech prepared, just for occasions like this. In fact he had written separate speeches for introducing himself to the spirit maiden, her guardian, the water dragon, the rest of the pathetic humans, and almost everyone he could conceivably encounter. He had rehearsed them for quite a while until he sure he had them just perfect. It was a form of stress relief, he decided, and a well deserved one at that.

Much to his disappointment, however, she didn't ask who he was. She already knew. "You're him, aren't you?" she asked, her face still directed away from his.

"Who?" he asked, grabbing a small section of her yellow hair and twirling it idly between his fingers, admiring its shade in the light.

"I saw you earlier. You were in the forest."

Releasing the strand he held, he leaned down, until his face was almost her buried in her hair, until he was sure that she could feel his breath spreading across the back of her neck. "You know, you can find many things in a forest. The humans that used to inhabit this world told stories about young girls alone in the woods. They'd say that she could meet a wolf. You won't meet a wolf around here, though. But there are other monsters, much worse monsters, that you could meet any day. You should know. You've met the worst of them."

She jerked away from his touch and pushed herself up onto her elbows. When her face finally swiveled to face him, he expected to see her eyes wide with terror. Instead, her eyes were narrowed and her lips slowly curled into what he could only imagine was defiance.

"I know. I've already met a Kikwi."

Her words were so unexpected that he blinked in surprise. His mouth hung open for a split second before he recovered his composure. Then, in spite of himself, he burst out laughing. When at last he was done, he inspected her face again and answered. "Oh. I see it now."

"See what?"

"I could feel her aura this whole time, of course, but I could never see her face in yours. You're so tiny, so fragile. I never imagined... Until just this moment." Unbidden, memories flashed across his mind. Memories of the goddess, in her golden armor, her face shining with righteous fury as she swept across his legions. He remembered the look in her eyes. It was one of only two times in his life when he had ever felt fear.

He had always wondered how such a powerful creature had become such a weak girl. But now, just now, he saw that same strength in this girl. To his eternal shame, it shook him a little. That was, of course, before he realized that strength of character very rarely translated into physical strength. She could glare at him and insult him all day long, but if he wanted to, he could crush her then and there. He repeated this to himself to keep his emotions in check.

Of course, he considered, the wording wasn't quite accurate. He wanted very much to crush her then and there, it was just that he wanted something else more. So much more. Enough to drive him to this. Dirtying his hands, personally.

He was very lost in thought that he didn't notice the girl spoke until after she had finished talking. He snapped his gaze back to her in surprise, and partially in annoyance that she had interrupted his tangent. "What was that?"

"Whose face do you see?" she asked the question like she was afraid of the answer. He took a moment to earnestly study her face. She seemed sincere. Could it be possible that she didn't know? He chuckled again. This was too perfect.

"It's immaterial," he answered. "And I am being dreadfully rude." He sat back on his heels and for the first time allowed the girl to slowly raise herself into a sitting position as well. She hissed at the pain when she moved, but was determined to sit, nonetheless. He suspected it was a power thing. Something about being vertical gave these people the strangest feeling of reckless confidence. They were always so much more cooperative when they were flat on the ground. Such strange creatures.

"After all," he continued, "here I am talking and talking and I haven't even asked your name." After all, something about having a name just made the whole conversation more intimate, he felt. You couldn't be really intimidating without a name. Humans especially. When he used their names they tensed up and shivered just beautifully. It was wonderful sport. And, if introductions meant he had a chance to recite his speech, then that was simply a bonus.

He smiled to himself at the possibility. It really was a good speech.

But she didn't answer him. She looked back at him blankly, without saying a word. What was it going to take? The defiance was almost cute at first, but it was fast annoying him. "Oh, come, dear. You were so talkative a moment ago." She remained stubbornly silent, some pathetic attempt at rebellion. "Very well, let me make you an offer. You give me your name and I'll give you mine."

"I know you already. You're demon."

He gave her the sort of smile he assumed was traditionally reserved for small children. "Demon is my race, not my name. Calling me demon is the equivalent of me calling you human all day long."

She cast her eyes down, whether in fear or embarrassment, he couldn't tell. Finally, grudgingly, she quietly answered, "Zelda."

"Zelda," he repeated, watching her cringe involuntarily as he whispered her name. He smiled. Finally it was time. "Pretty. I am known as the Demon Lord Ghirahim. Normally, I insist on being addressed by my full title. But, considering who you are and considering who I am..." He twirled his hands about as he spoke, and in spite of herself, Zelda inched closer. He could tell she was hoping he would give up a little bit of information. She would be sorely disappointed. "And considering what terribly good friends I'm sure we'll become, I suppose it's only fair that I allow you to call me simply by my first name. A show of trust as it were." Suddenly, he was right in front of her face. She hadn't even seen him move. "Zelda," he whispered. She screamed in shock and tumbled backwards, and then screamed in pain as her wound split open again.

"Careful," he reminded her, in an offhand manner. "Don't hurt yourself."

Slowly, painfully she righted herself. Her face was still in a hard grimace that revealed the extent of her pain, but she didn't comment. Her pride wouldn't allow it. "You move fast," she finally managed to gasp.

"It's a trick of the trade, dear one. Now turn around and let me look at that." She stared at him with a look of absolute terror that was positively adorable, before he clarified. "Your wound."

This didn't reassure her an ounce, but she turned around anyway, and let him touch the gash in her back. She hissed in pain when his fingers came in contact with the painful injury. He in turned hissed in annoyance, when his fingers came back bloody. The wound was gushing again.

"You must be more careful, pet," he warned her, as he wiped some of the excess blood away. "You could get hurt. And that would be a terrible shame, wouldn't it."

She wanted to remind him whose fault it was that she was hurt in the first place, but kept her mouth shut.

"We'll have to do something about this. But it doesn't matter too much," he continued nonchalantly, "And I believe your little friend has come to help you out."

Zelda jerked in surprise when he mentioned her friends. Immediately her mind sprung back to her friends at the academy. But that was insane. They wouldn't have come for her. They couldn't have.

"Come out, little one," Ghirahim called to no one Zelda could see. "Come out, before I lose my patience."

There was a squeak of alarm from somewhere to Zelda's right. Her head swiveled around just in time to see a rustle in the nearby bushes. Suddenly, a little furry head popped out, followed by a round furry body.

"Machi!" Zelda almost screamed. She leapt to her feet in spite of the pain, something she hadn't realized she was capable of, and made to run towards the creature. Instead, she felt Ghirahim's hand whip out and grab her arm, displaying once again his inhuman capacity for speed. His grip was strong, stronger than she anticipated, and she quickly slowed to a halt. Instead, she called out to the tiny creature from where she was, some thirty feet away.

"Machi! What are you doing here?" By now the hordes of monsters had noticed the little creature as well. A few of them made gestures of hunger, but none dared step forward to attack the Kikwi. Not with the Master so close and in such a capricious mood.

Machi didn't make a move to answer. It seemed too terrified to make a sound. After a few moments of impatience, Ghirahim decided he was tired of waiting. He made a strange gesture, something Zelda didn't recognize, and suddenly Machi leapt into the air with a squeal, as though something had bitten him, although Zelda couldn't see what.

It ran forward, shrieking, before tumbling to a stop at Zelda's feet. Instantly, it curled over and popped its leaves up into the air, in a sorely misguided attempt at camouflage. Zelda's heart raced to see the little Kikwi, who walked straight into the lion's den. She had never been so touched in her life, to know that it cared about her that much. More gratitude filled her heart than she imagined was possible, so naturally the first words out of her mouth were, "Machi, you idiot. Why did you come back?"

"Careful, girl, you'll scare the poor thing," Ghirahim informed her condescendingly. However, after a solid minute in which the Kikwi refused to move, Ghirahim finally gave up. Gently, he kicked at the little creature. Zelda was surprised at how soft his touch was before she looked at his face and saw the grimace painted across his countenance. He was plainly disgusted that he had to touch that thing at all.

A part of Zelda was deeply offended by that, although she couldn't quite fathom why.

However, the kick seemed to have done the trick, and the Kikwi sat back up and, timidly, offered up its meager tribute to the Demon Lord. Berries. Red berries.

Zelda blinked in surprise. She recognized the healing berries that the Kikwi carried with it, the same berries that it had brought her the night before. Had Machi really come all the way back just to give her some berries? Suddenly, she felt as though she could cry for the noble, useless sacrifice.

Ghirahim bent down and delicately selected one of the berries from the Kikwi's grasp. Pinching it delicately between his fingers, he turned to look at Zelda's wound. She faced resolutely away from him, refusing to acknowledge what he was doing, even as he walked around to stand beside her. He pressed the berry into the bloody gash, earning a gasp of pain from the girl as the skin of the berry broke and the juices fell onto the broken skin. A few strings of skin began to knit themselves together on her back. With his fingers, he tore the newly formed skin apart again, and pushed his fingers deeper into the wound, feeling the girl spasm beneath his touch. Much to her credit, she remained standing, however and did not scream. It was an impressive feat, for such a soft child.

This time, he squeezed the juice much deeper into the wound, watching as muscle and sinew, and some other parts that he didn't care to name began to reform. He nodded slowly, acknowledging the berry's power. If he worked his way from the inside out, he might be able to fix her. It would be extremely painful, for her that is, but it would set her straight.

"They'll do. You're going to want to lie down, girl," he told her, withdrawing for a second. It wasn't so much her pain that he cared about, but rather that he needed gravity as his ally if he was going to complete this operation and get the juice as far inside as possible. She obeyed without question. The pain of his fingers inside her back had knocked the air from her lungs and she couldn't seem to get enough air to say anything.

He knelt over her and, without so much as looking at the Kikwi, gestured to the ground beside him. "Put them there and wait," he ordered, not looking up from his work to see if the creature complied.

For a while it was hard going. It was difficult to keep the wound open with his bare hands far enough that he could get at the worst of the injuries and yet not tear the newly healed flesh. The pain was apparently bad for the girl. Every time he touched her now, even lightly, her muscles would seize and she would writhe just a little. This would be so much easier if she would just fall unconscious and yet she remained awake. He wondered if it was a survival instinct. Perhaps, she thought that if she fell asleep, she would never wake up, so her body refused to let her doze. It was possible.

He worked for a long time, caring for her wounds. His fingers and his clothes were bloody. So were hers, but that was nothing new. His work, now, was feverish as he split berry after berry over her injury. It all got so much worse before it got better. Yet, the effects were worth it. Her breathing was becoming more normal. Her skin felt slightly warmer. His touch caused less flinching each time he returned. That was good. In fact, he was becoming very much aware of every single movement her body made. Perhaps it was something about having his fingers moving beneath her flesh. It made him feel like a puppeteer, orchestrating her very motions from the inside.

That was why he noticed when she suddenly stiffened. When her head tilted up and just the smallest angle, and her arms pulled back a fraction of an inch. He kept the pressure on her back just enough to seem like he was still working, but tilted his head a little to see her face. He saw her mouth two short words while she didn't realize he was watching. "Machi. Run."

Even as the words came out, even as the creature looked at her in confusion. Even as the idea was formulating, he called on his magic and cut it off. Suddenly, a bright orange barrier sprung up before the forest, blocking off the easiest escape route. Zelda jerked back in surprise, much to his amusement.

"Did you say something?" he asked mockingly. She shifted around to glare at him, which only made him smile more. She was moving, apparently without too much pain. He only to seal the last layers of flesh at this point and he was done. Positively wonderful. The act of healing this human was an exhausting one. It was really quite pathetic how weak the human body was. But it didn't matter now.

Apparently, she noticed her recovery, too, because she stood up slowly, surprised by her own maneuverability. He stood up with her, careful to shadow her in case she decided to do something stupid again. The Kikwi stood, too, but it didn't make much of a difference since his full height was not much higher than his sitting height. Zelda looked down on Machi and then back up at the man before her.

"Just let him go," she whispered.

"The Kikwi?"

"Yes. Please."

He pretended to consider it a moment. "And why should I do that?"

"He hasn't done anything to you. He just helped you. He brought you those berries."

"Strictly speaking, he helped you, but point taken. Still, berry-finding skills aside, it seems to me that he's doing a fantastic job right now as a hostage wouldn't you agree?"

"Please don't do this."

"No."

Zelda paused and glared at the demon lord. He smiled, clearly enjoying it.

She had to fight to keep in a smile of her own. Apparently, she was fooling him. Trying to keep her breathing slow, and not give away her plan, she dropped to her knees before him and begged.

"I'll do anything, just leave Machi alone. Please."

There was a desperation in her voice that he found immensely amusing. He hadn't expected her to resort to begging this quickly, but he'd play it for what it was worth.

"See, now you've gone and just shown your hand there, girl. If you're willing to do anything right now, for me to let him go, then chances are, if I kept him, you'd be willing to do anything for me forever to keep him safe. Now tell me, girl, why exactly should I let him go?"

She looked up at him in horror. He knew that he had won. He was positive. He did not expect what came next. She threw herself at him, grabbing him firmly around the legs. From her position down low, she was able to suddenly pull him off balance. He came crashing to the ground and dragged her with him, but she clung to his calves for dear life.

His surprise bought him the valuable seconds that Zelda's plan needed. He missed the little Kikwi as it darted off in an unexpected direction. Just as, a few minutes before, in his haste to put up the barrier he had missed the last of the words Zelda whispered to Machi, the crux of her plan.

Machi. Run. Lake.

The forest was not the only way out of the clearing, and Machi was running headlong towards the other. Ghirahim, however, struggling to pull the girl's arms from around his legs didn't notice this until the creature was very nearly there. His hordes stood watching, unmoving, still petrified from his previous mood swings to make a move.

'Idiots,' he thought to himself before ordering out loud, "Stop him!" The monsters sprung into action, charging at the little fur ball. But Machi had a lot more experience at running then the monsters did. His lead was strong enough that he reached the lake, and was already swimming towards salvation, by the time the monsters reached full speed.

That was when several things happened at once. Ghirahim's eyes widened as he suddenly realized what was going to happen. He tried to teleport to the shoreline, to stop his advancing hordes, but with the girl still clinging to him, she was dragged alongside him. With her added weight, he was pulled back towards the ground, lying exposed as his hordes charged. The sudden press of monsters upon him, monsters running at full speed, was too much for even him to stop with such short notice. They came at him and the girl. A few of the smarter ones tried desperately to stop, but the pressure of the crowd behind them was too great. An unlucky few fell to the ground and had their skulls crushed by the tide. A few more were flung forward haphazardly. Still more simply continued running.

At the last second, Ghirahim summoned a barrier around himself, and looked down at his legs, only to realize that the girl had somehow slipped away and rolled two or three feet into the lake. The first of the monsters hit the water, followed by the second. There was moment of hesitation, before waves began to whip around them.

The water dragon, rested and prepared, sensed that the demons were again entering her domain and was ready to take revenge on the invaders. The water lashed out at the creatures, bulldozing the entire crowd. Ghirahim struggled to stand in the onslaught, even his barriers having trouble withstanding the pressure. He could no longer see the spirit maiden or the Kikwi, and he didn't have the strength to press farther into the water. He could only hold out and wait, praying that the spirit maiden was still alive when it was over.

Praying. That was something he was starting to do more and more of lately. Oh, how he was coming to despise humans.

The water whipped Zelda around as she was pulled under. The air left her lungs and she tried, desperately, to swim to the surface. But there was a current dragging her down. A very strong current. In a moment of lucid thought, she managed to open her eyes long enough to see that Machi was being pulled around with her. He wasn't moving. With one hand, she reached out and managed to snag a bit of fur on the little creature's head, dragging it to her and holding it close and they were pulled farther and farther underwater. The last tendrils of sun disappeared from their view and they were plunged into complete darkness.

The pressure was killing her, even faster than the lack of air, the immense pressure in her ears made her want to scream. She knew it was the end. She was positive. Just as Zelda expected to black out, light returned from nowhere. More importantly, so did air. She gasped, quickly as she could manage, feeling her lungs inflate and the pressure lift. She doubled over, crying, breathing, so fantastically alive.

Beside her, Machi was doing the same, hacking desperately as he refilled his lungs.

"Well," a deep, feminine voice boomed, "You're not what I was expecting."

Zelda and Machi looked up in surprise. What she saw made her knees go weak. If she had been standing, she was sure that she would have fallen to the ground. It was unmistakable, what she was seeing.

The water dragon.

Wow, that was a long one. I think that was my longest chapter yet. Sorry that took so long to post. I would have updated sooner, except that both this story and Stalemate were on chapters that are really heavy with hero/villain interaction, which I am horrible at. I can do heroes on their own and villains on their own, but put them in a room together and they both morph into bland blobs of bran cereal.

Stalemate will hopefully be updated in a few days, when I successfully un-cerealify my characters.

Also, if this chapter has taught me anything, it's that we should all be thankful for local anasthetic.

As always, read, review, enjoy, etc.

'Till next time

Ornamental Reciprocity