Link's eyes fluttered open as bright light shone in his eyes, his body aching with every breath he took. Ghirahim had clearly been sustaining him with some sort of magic, given that he had yet to develop an infection and had somehow walked on his own two feet the day before. Or maybe Ghirahim wasn't doing anything at all. Maybe it was the room, maybe it was the realm, maybe it was the little raven-haired slave, maybe it was the leftover magic in the atmosphere from so much constant usage.

He didn't know, and at the moment, he didn't care. He was somehow still able to function, and he wasn't dead. Given his situation, he couldn't ask for much more than that.

Slowly, Link sat up, looking around with glazed, slightly faded hues of blue. Where was Ghirahim? Link knew he couldn't have woken up after six hours on his own, so why was he alone? Why did he feel so… rested? Refreshed. Renewed.

Getting to his feet very cautiously, Link began to look around for an exit. Even if Ghirahim insisted he was never getting out, there had to be an exit somewhere, right?

Link quickly found the door the slaves used to slip in and deliver whatever miscellaneous object Ghirahim wanted, but any sensation of victory was short-lived. As soon as he passed through the doorway, he was met with solid walls.

That doesn't make any sense. How are they getting in and out?

Link tilted his head back, looking for a ceiling, but he couldn't make out anything in the darkness.

I guess I could try…

Grunting, he placed his hands against the grooves in the walls and began to pull himself upward. He reached the area that should have been ceiling, but his hand went right into the darkness and found more wall. Grinning to himself, he picked up speed, feeling along the walls for foot and handholds.

"Ah!"

He let out a shout, both of his feet slipping and leaving him to dangle from his hands, his bad shoulder screaming in protest. Taking a few deep breaths to calm the nausea in his gut, he repositioned his feet on the wall and stopped for a moment.

Don't go crazy. Take your time. Keep your head and make it to the top.

It quickly became evident that even though the sleep had rejuvenated him, he was still starving and dehydrated. His body objected to the strain it was enduring every chance it got. Head throbbing, muscles aching, heart pounding, lungs screaming, stomach growling, bones aching, cuts stinging… on and on the list went.

He had made a very fine mess of himself in seven minutes flat.

Link reached up to grab more wall, gasping when he met nothing but air. Pulling himself a little higher, he slid his hand up, finding the end of the wall, and then slid it across the top, realizing it was the floor to a room.

Hopeful thoughts now coursing through his mind, Link pushed himself higher until he got enough of a grip to pull himself out. His body collapsed on the marble floors as soon as it could, demanding a brief rest, and he obeyed.

Panting, Link turned his head to look at the hole and saw only darkness below him. If Ghirahim truly was a lord of demons, that chamber was a circle of hell.

But that didn't matter. He was out.

Link's lips pulled into a wide smile, the grin refusing to leave his face as he struggled to his feet, not even pain taking the joy from his face. Turning away from the hole, he started down the hall towards a small light in the distance, keeping both hands on the wall and listening closely as he crept along.

I'll have to get in the light where I can see, and then I can try and find the outer wall, and once I do that I can trace it until I find a door. I should look for a weapon of some sort, even if I can't really fight in this condition. I just need something to defend myself in case—

Link skidded to a stop when he saw the black-haired slave walking towards him, reading a book with a heavy sack slung over his shoulder. Panicking slightly, Link ducked into a nearby alcove, holding his breath and crouching in the shadows. Beads of sweat slid down his forehead, splashing on the stone floor as he fought to remain silent.

The boy continued to walk, passing Link's little corridor as he went, and then he slowly came to a stop. He turned towards the dark passage and smiled warmly, placing his bag on the ground and dog-earing his book before closing it.

"Link, what are you doing?"

It took Link a moment to realize the slave was speaking to him. It had been so long since he'd heard his own name spoken aloud…

"Link, come on out from there."

The demon's voice was gentle, like satin, his tone warm and inviting. Link hesitated, eyes darting around in search of some escape, but after a few moments, he got to his feet and stepped into the dim light.

"Link, you'll hurt yourself if you try to walk the halls. You're not well enough yet."

Link was slightly surprised by his reaction. Wasn't he going to try and stop Link from escaping and throw him back in the cell? He tried to verbalize the question, but his tongue was like lead in his mouth.

The slave approached him, pressing two fingers to his neck and feeling his pulse for a minute or so. "You're very weak right now. Perhaps, in a few days, you will be able to walk around, but I really would advise you rest for today." The hand slid from his throat, and the boy started back towards his objects.

Link shook his head slowly, blinking a few times, jaw shifting uncomfortably as he finally got his vocal chords to work. "So… you aren't going to tell Ghirahim? Or try to stop me?"

The boy frowned, glancing over his shoulder. "Stop you from doing what? Walking?"

"No." Link shook his head, debating for a minute whether he should tell the truth. Surely the slave Ghirahim had beaten senseless the day before would help him leave. Maybe they could even leave together. It had to be safe.

"No, I mean escaping."

The demon just stared for a few moments, and then he seemed to understand. A soft, sad chuckle escaped the split lips, and the slave shook his head, setting down his bulky sack once more. "Oh, Link…" He sighed. "You're still under the illusion there is a way out of here."

Link stopped, still out of breath and in pain, a variety of expressions fleeting across his face. A slight nod, a slight shake, a crinkled brow, pursed lips, a soft gasp or perhaps a sigh. A jumble of thoughts and feelings expressed by the contortion of his features.

"You look very cute when confused."

"Have you ever even tried to get out?" Link asked, ignoring the comment.

The boy tisked in a manner that matched Ghirahim's too much for comfort. "Link, do you really think I would have stayed all this time if there was a way out? I've been here for almost three hundred years. I gave up about… two hundred and forty ago."

Link's eyes widened at the revelation, and he rubbed the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly. "I thought you were a little kid…"

The demon laughed, and it sounded so much more genuine and wholesome than anything Link's ears had heard in days. Weeks, maybe. He couldn't tell anymore.

"Many people think I'm younger than I am. Demons age in a different way than humans. It's… complicated." Then, with a cheerful smile, he added, "Don't be embarrassed, Link."

Link kept his gaze on the ground, ears ringing and head buzzing as he tried to register the influx of information. "One—one thing at a time. What's your name?"

The demon cocked his head to the side, staring oddly at him. "I don't really know. It's been so long since I've had a name… You may call me First. I was the first slave Master ever had." Something resembling nostalgia danced across the demon's face, and he smiled. "We were both children back then. He aged so much faster than me, which I always found a little unfair." He laughed softly, covering his mouth with his hand. "He wasn't always so theatrical and posh, you know. That night, he was wearing a pair of the cutest pajamas I'd ever seen in my life. He would let me sleep in his bed, he loved to play with my hair, and every night he would ask me to tell him stories about life outside the castle. He—" First suddenly stopped, waving his hand in the air. "Listen to me, rambling on. I'm sorry, you don't want to hear this. Back to the point, if you really must, you can go looking for an exit. It might help you process things if you see it for yourself."

Link was still sort of lost in the beginning of First's story, the idea of Ghirahim as a child having never crossed his mind, but he managed a nod and a reply. "Okay, yeah. That… sounds good." He turned to go, and then stopped, remembering another question he had. "Wait. Why didn't Ghirahim come this morning?"

First tapped his chin in a moment of thought, and then he snapped his fingers. "Oh, yes! He got a lead from those Sheikah he captured and went off to follow it. He hasn't come back yet, so he either found the Spirit Maiden or uncovered another lead."

Link's chest went tight at the thought of Ghirahim with Zelda while he stood around talking, and he turned around to continue back down the hall.

"Thank you, First. And when I find the way out, I'll let you know."

First sighed, giving him a weak smile. "You do that, Link."

There has to be a way out… there has to be!


Hours later, when his legs had failed and left him sitting in a random hall somewhere in the middle of the endless labyrinth, Link began to doubt. He was certain he had been through here before, and most of these rooms had been covered during Ghirahim's tour, so he wasn't finding anything new.

Maybe… Maybe there really isn't a way out.

His stomach growled, dull pain burning through his gut as he double over.

"I know," he moaned. "I'm sorry, I would feed you if I could."

Sighing, Link straightened up and took another look around, trying to determine where he had come from and where he ought to go next. But he was so exhausted… and his vision was so blurry…and he was so hungry, and tired, and drained.

Link tried to stand, but his leg was assaulted by white-hot pain, and he collapsed on himself, smacking his head against the wall and falling onto his side shortly thereafter.

I give up… there's no way out…

He clenched his teeth, eyes burning as he fought off the tears that threatened to overflow any second. Why was he even in this place? What was the point? Ghirahim was right. It was just a standstill until somebody gave up, and honestly, Ghirahim was a demon—the personal slave of a demon king. How could Link, a mere human with a few special talents, ever hope to stand up to that?

No, Link, you can't give—

Shut up! I don't care anymore. I just don't care, I can't care. I don't care if Zelda gets hurt or the world burns to the ground, I can't take this anymore!

Link bowed his head to the marble and traced his fingers on the black, polished stone.

"I'm sorry, Zelda… I'm so selfish."

He bit his lip, a few of the tears making their way to the black marble below. How could he think that way? She was his best friend. Or she was the goddess. Or maybe she was both. It was all so confusing, and he didn't know what to believe. Still, he… wait, where was he going with this?

"I am so stupid…"

"Well, there's no denying that, but you're hardly selfish."

Link's head snapped up, and he saw Ghirahim leaning against the wall opposite of himself, arms folded over his chest, dark chocolate eyes staring right through him. Shaking, Link tried to move again, giving up after just seconds of a struggle against his body.

"H-how long have you been standing there?" Link flushed slightly, and it comforted him in the most insignificant of ways that he still had enough pride to be ashamed of his congested, quivering voice.

Ghirahim simply smirked, eyes lighting up with amusement. "Long enough."

There was silence in the hall for a while, and then Ghirahim spoke again, his voice carrying down the empty corridor before bouncing back to them.

"Have you figured it out yet, Skychild?"

Link knew what he was referring to, and he looked away, chewing up on his upper lip.

"Skychild, look at me."

Link heard the unspoken threat and complied, too tired to even think of resistance.

"Say it."

Link stopped for a moment, somewhat confused. "What…?"

"Tell me what you learned, Skychild. Say it out loud."

"Oh…"

Link dropped his head to the floor, struggling with himself for a moment. Ultimately, though, what harm could it do? How could words possibly break him more than hours of wandering and backtracking and screaming at the walls to disintegrate? Even if it did, what was the point in fighting? He wasn't going to win, he was just going to bleed and hurt some more.

Taking a deep breath, he screwed his eyes shut and spoke softly. "There is no way out."

"Look at me when you say it."

Link felt his chest begin to ache, and he raised his eyes to meet Ghirahim's. "Th-there is no way out."

Ghirahim nodded, not smirking or grinning at all. In fact, he was very solemn, and it helped Link to say it again, even though he hadn't been told to.

"There is no way out…"

Link had been wrong—so wrong—when he thought it wouldn't affect him. It was making the reality all too real, and with every confession, he could feel himself weaken a little more. He looked down again—repeated it to himself in both disbelief and horror.

"There is no way out, there is no way out..."

Soft footsteps approached, and five fingers secured themselves around his dislocated shoulder, slightly aggravating the pain that rested there.

"Scream it, Skychild. Be honest, and let it all out. Let the whole world know… there is no way out of this castle. There never has been, and there never will be."

"There… th-there…"

Ghirahim gave his shoulder a sharp twist, and Link screamed in pain.

"There is no way out!"

He grabbed Ghirahim's hand, trying to pry it off as more tears spilled from his eyes. Ghirahim didn't release him, but rather forced him to stand, sliding a hand down the hero's back and sweeping him off his feet in one swift motion.

"That's right, Skychild. That's exactly right."