First of all, it's not April. I don't think it's even been a week. I'm going to stop trying to predict when the next update is coming, because I obviously have no clue.
Second, I meant to say this earlier, but I decided to pull a bit from Hyrule Warriors when determining some of Ghirahim's powers, though with my own narrative spin. It's not a big deal, but I just thought I'd mention it because if you've only played Skyward Sword it wouldn't be obvious, and would kind of look like I'm pulling stuff out of my butt for a character that's already pretty OP :D
Third, someone asked about me replying to reviews? I've seen authors address guest reviews as part of their chapter updates, but I guess I've always preferred to keep the housekeeping-stuff like this pretty short when I can to keep the word count semi-accurate, so I've never done it. For people who review with accounts that I'm actually able to respond to, I would say that I reply maybe 30% of the time? It depends almost entirely on time available, whether they asked a question, and whether their review touched on something that I felt like I had further thoughts on, because I always feel a little dumb sending responses that basically amount to "thanks!". I've definitely wished I could respond to guest comments in the past, and if I'd been able to, I think I would have responded to yours to say that even though I didn't want to send Link to that depressing place in this part of the story, I honestly had the thought while writing that if I was the type of person to write fanfic for my own fanfic and wanted to write a bad-end sort of scenario, that would have been it ;-; Fortunately, I'm not that far gone. Hope that helps!
As a final note, I honestly do appreciate everyone who reviews this. I have roughly zero confidence in my writing at times, and every time I update, it takes me about half a second to decide that I've just posted THE WORST chapter ever. Your reviews really help to talk me down from that ledge, so thanks XD If you read and don't review, I totally get it and that's fine, too! I hope you're enjoying reading this thing half as much I enjoy writing it, because honestly I'm having a blast ;)
Anyway, sorry for the long intro, and... enjoy?
Ghirahim awoke to the sound of music.
For long moments he was content to simply listen to the rippling chords and melodies, awareness a small and fragile thing that he didn't dare examine for fear of losing it entirely. Only as time passed and memory stirred did he start to question his peaceful awakening, reaching out with his mind to discover where the long, desperate night had taken him.
Leaves hung above in a sheltering canopy, and in the dappled spaces between he could see a night sky just turning to morning, the stars disappearing one by one as the approaching sun chased them away. Link had settled himself high in the tree's branches, his back firmly against the thick trunk, and Ghirahim took a moment to appreciate the familiar image. Link's dark sword glinted bare-bladed from across his lap, and his fingers plucked haltingly at a familiar golden harp as if trying to remember how to play.
Link clearly thought he was alone, but spreading his awareness further, Ghirahim found one of the goddess's child knights crouched at the tree's base—the one with the terrible hair. A number of ways of dealing with him came immediately to mind, but with another glance at Link, he restrained himself. The fool was only watching for the moment, either waiting to signal for reinforcements or for Link to fall asleep. He would have the chance for neither, now.
With a shimmering trail of magic, Ghirahim emerged to lounge on the branch above Link, looking down. The music didn't stop, but the tension slipped visibly from his young master's shoulders, and he let out a long breath.
"I was hoping you would wake up soon," he admitted, plucking out another chord. "I don't think I'll be able to hide for much longer."
"Not if you keep up that racket, certainly," Ghirahim agreed, and Link laughed under his breath, playing a final run of notes before pressing his hand against the vibrating strings to still them.
"Nobody lives on the surface yet. Almost nobody." He frowned for a moment, then shook his head dismissively. "Most Loftwings aren't trained to fly at night, anyway, and I haven't heard any at all since I landed. We shouldn't be in danger of being found until sunrise at the earliest… but they saw where I fell. They'll know that I can only walk so far."
"Mmm." Ghirahim decided not to enlighten him yet and disrupt what was sure to be the calm before the storm. From what he recalled of the red-head's temperament, he would reveal himself soon enough. "Your… 'friends' must also realize that with me at your side, you are not bound by walking at all."
"I'm sure they do," Link said. Lifting his hand to the harp once more, he started to pick out a new, somewhat heroic-sounding melody. This one flowed more easily from his fingers than the last, though his mouth twisted wryly as he played. "So… the desert flame next?"
"I suppose so." With a long sigh, Ghirahim leaned back, resting his own head against the bark of the trunk. "Eventually. I am not quite rested enough for that."
Link nodded, but his attention appeared focused on his music now. Ghirahim took the opportunity to examine himself for the first time since entering the flame, running searching eyes down his long, pale body and wishing again for a mirror. The goddess brat had been right about him remaining outwardly unchanged as far as he could see, but that feeling of an inner shift was more pronounced than ever, and he was not at all sure that he liked it. He felt exposed, as if some outer shell had been worn—or rather, burned—away.
Now his sword… that was another matter entirely. Still black as pitch with a gleaming red diamond at the base of a wicked hilt, the harsh jagged points along the sides had started to smooth away to a more sinuous edge, and a startlingly familiar diamond pattern was etched along the face of the blade. Demise had crafted that sword, and in many ways Ghirahim himself, in his own image. Under the flame's power, that dark touch had started to chip away, and what it left was a blade more like himself than he would have thought possible. He couldn't get enough of staring at it.
The process was still incomplete, though, and that thought itched with an urgency that drove him towards the next flame despite the pain that awaited—and there would be pain. The fires of Farore did not quite match the tearing agony of Link carving into his core, but it had been all-encompassing, and Ghirahim had slept so deeply after that only dark, scattered memories of the previous day remained. Time was a luxury it seemed they could barely afford, but he thought it might take another day still before he could face that again. At full strength, that flame had nearly devoured him. If he tried it at anything less…
Eying the shadows under his master's eyes, Ghirahim thought that he wasn't the only one in need of rest.
"Did you sleep?" he asked, and Link shook his head, eyes tight. "Do you need to?"
"No." He paused in his playing long enough to flick a finger towards his pouches. "Stamina potion."
Ghirahim did not protest that the one was no substitute for the other, though he strongly suspected that was the case. Instead, his eyes narrowed, and his gaze swept over Link searchingly.
"Something happened," he said, not needing Link's tight shudder for confirmation. For all that he played that instrument calmly, fear and frustration boiled beneath his skin.
"What did you do with my blindfold?" Link asked, and Ghirahim's brow rose at the sudden change of subject. "It has to have been you. I don't remember much, but it's too much of a coincidence to think otherwise."
"It was." There seemed no point in denying it. "You were slipping in and out of consciousness, and I could hardly tell one state from the other with your eyes covered."
It was a good reason, if not the only one. Link seemed to accept it, nodding slowly.
"Where is it now?" he asked, and Ghirahim barked a laugh.
"I have no earthly way of knowing, boy. Do you think I tucked it against my heart like a favor?"
Nodding again as if he'd feared as much, Link sighed.
"Somewhere on the surface, then," he said, and something in his tone made Ghirahim snap.
"I can hardly be expected to know which parts of your poorly planned wardrobe are secretly magical artifacts. I suppose your earrings allow you to read minds?" The music paused as Link half raised a hand to his ear, a startled look on his face. "No, I imagine if there's anything else, it would be your hat. Enchanted to stay on your head, no doubt."
"The blindfold didn't just disappear," Link maintained, taking up the melody a bit faster than before. "If it's on the surface, it can be found. Fi could have found it." The challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and grating.
"Do you think I can be manipulated so easily?" Ghirahim asked incredulously, shifting on his branch to stare down at him. "I'm tired, and I see no reason to interrupt more pressing matters to track down a… a security blanket."
"I do!" Link shouted, the music coming to an abrupt halt with a discordant note that he didn't bother to silence. The strain he had been struggling to hide was now all too apparent. "I didn't get away. Zelda took the sword, Ghirahim. If Fledge hadn't come through for me at the last moment then I would be under guard in my own room right now and you would be only the goddess knows where. Do you know what that would mean? Do you know what this means?" He gestured to sightless eyes that were twisted in helpless anger. "It means that someone could literally wave this sword under my nose and I would never know. It means that that security blanket is the only reason I found you in the first place, and if Zelda manages to take you again, then the only chance I have of getting you back is if she gives you back." He laughed, a short, bitter sound. "So far you haven't given her a lot of incentive to do that."
"Am I supposed to feel guilty?" Ghirahim asked stiffly. "If you want this to work out so badly, maybe you should try taking a firmer hand with me." Snapping so that he loomed over Link and ignoring the way the branch trembled beneath him, he leaned forward. "There is not a thing I do that you are not capable of changing on a whim."
"Do you not want this to work out?" For once, Link did not rise to the bait, craning his neck so his light eyes unknowingly pierced Ghirahim's dark ones. "I do, more than I probably should."
Ghirahim drew back, and immediately berated himself for doing so. It was what he had wanted, but something in that raw honesty felt like more than he had bargained for, rubbing against those newly exposed parts of himself that Demise's absence had left bare. It was true that Link was trying harder to keep him than he had any reason to, much harder than Ghirahim would have expected given the circumstances. Perhaps some reciprocation would not be out of order.
Discrete movement from below caught his eye, and he welcomed the distraction.
"A moment, Link," he murmured, and ignoring Link's confused expression, he disappeared. Sure enough, their young spy had been slowly slipping away, doubtless to go retrieve the goddess and her dogs. The light in the sky must be almost bright enough for him to do so now.
Ghirahim appeared before him with a pitying grin, and he reared back, eyes widening.
"Li—mmph!"
"None of that, now," Ghirahim sang softly, throwing a hand around his mouth to stifle the noise. This human was much bulkier than Link, but he was easy enough to subdue, especially once Ghirahim summoned a dagger to his hand, waving it lazily across the boy's line of vision before pressing it against his neck. "You may be only a mouse underfoot, but you could still alert the hawk, and we can't have that."
To his satisfaction, the soft sound of a harp drifted once more from the treetop above. Link hadn't heard the scuffle. The fool trembled against him, still struggling feebly despite the dagger, and Ghirahim realized with amusement that he was more furious than afraid.
"Let's see what your little mind has to work with," Ghirahim said, delving in with a tiny trickle of magic. Most humans had a weak point in their loyalty, some doubt or insecurity brittle enough for Ghirahim to shatter and exploit. Not all, of course—there were those like Link who held firm to their values, making it impossible for his magic to take root—but enough that he had used the ability to great effect in wars past. For all the trust they placed in it, he had proven the weakness of the human heart time and time again.
Now, however, Ghirahim's searching tendrils rammed up against a loyalty so impenetrable it would not be disrupted. Surprisingly, this boy's devotion to the goddess—no, to her mortal form, though he still revered the other—had strength to rival Link's. There would be no coercing him into anything that might harm her. Frowning, Ghirahim felt around for another way in, annoyance stealing across his features. His hatred for Ghirahim himself was certainly flattering, but offered no help. Could this buffoon really be so steadfast? Then he found it: a thick vein of guilt ensnaring his mind, overlaid heavily with a jealousy he had tried very hard to repress. Intriguingly, much of it centered around Link. What had this naughty brute of a boy been up to?
It was an opening, and he took it, his dark magic slipping in and expanding until it consumed everything. Ghirahim let the boy go and he swayed on his feet, flinching as the demon circled in front of him and sending him a hateful glare. No, he did not care for Ghirahim at all.
"You will remember that I belong to Link, and act only according to his wishes," Ghirahim told him, and some of that hatred diminished as guilt wracked his features. "What is your name? Quietly, if you please."
"Groose," he muttered after a moment, and Ghirahim smirked.
"Hmmm." It amazed him that a name like 'Link' was still somehow the best name these ridiculous people had come up with. "And how much did you overhear… Groose?"
"I…" His lips peeled back in a snarl. "Not much. Mostly a lot of yelling about nothing."
"Is that so?" He was hedging still, somehow, though it hardly mattered. It might have been nothing to him, but the goddess would certainly understand if he told her. This Groose was one of those he had been ordered not to harm, though he could find a way around that if he wanted. If he wanted. "Stay here like a good boy and make no sound until I tell you otherwise. If you do, Link will be… most displeased."
Guilt painting his face once more, Groose nodded, and Ghirahim knew he would obey. His overblown feelings of obligation to Link—and by extension, Ghirahim—were as strong a bond as shackles now.
Moments later, Ghirahim was in the tree once more, and Link's music halted.
"Did you see something?" he asked, and Ghirahim chuckled.
"Only a bird," he said, and Link grimaced, slipping his harp back into its pouch.
"If the Loftwings are out, knights could start flying in any time now. We need to get moving."
"So we do." He studied the stubborn set to Link's jaw. "You really want to retrieve that blindfold?"
Link nodded firmly. "Zelda knows where the flames are, and she'll have plenty of time to plan for our arrival. Unless you think you can face another flame already?" Ghirahim didn't bother responding. They both knew he couldn't. "Maybe we hold them off long enough to use the flame—hopefully we do—but after that… it's not if she takes the sword, it's when. Planning for anything else would be stupidly optimistic. At least this way I'll know where she's keeping you."
"You would have to keep it hidden. She could take the blindfold just as easily as the sword if she finds it on you," Ghirahim pointed out, and Link's eyes flared.
"She wouldn't dare," he said grimly. "Not after I remind her what it cost me."
Ghirahim almost asked, but the look on Link's face made him reconsider. The boy had a point, loathe though he was to admit it. Events would almost certainly play out as he'd predicted. Then again, if Link thought that knowing the sword's location would be enough for him to retrieve it, then he was the one being foolishly optimistic.
"I do not know how Fi did things, but I cannot find an item just by knowing what it is," he said instead, tossing his head. "I must have something of similar energy or resonance in order to track it down."
"No, that's how Fi did it," Link said, considering the problem. "Here." And with a small smile flitting across his face, he removed his earrings, holding them out for Ghirahim to take.
"You're not serious," Ghirahim said flatly, though he took the red earrings to examine.
"They don't help me read minds, but they do shield me from the heat, to an extent." Despite his innocent tone, there was no mistaking the grin on his face now. "More importantly, I found them in the same place I found the blindfold. And…" A small blue scale was retrieved from a pouch and dropped into his hands as well. "This too. There was one more thing that was the same, but I don't have it on me. Will these work?"
Ghirahim stared at him, then at the small items in his hand. They did have a similar energy despite their obviously differing origins. Focusing his attention outward, he found to his surprise that there was something out there matching that resonance, however weak it was.
"These will do," he said grudgingly, committing the signature to memory as he returned them to Link's hands. Slipping the scale back in its pouch, Link started redoing the earrings. Ghirahim supposed there was no real reason not to retrieve the artifact and several good reasons to do so, but… "I truly despise that rag."
"Why?" Link asked curiously as he attached the last red earring, but Ghirahim ignored the question. It wasn't the sort of thing he felt like putting into words.
"After we retrieve it, we'll both need to rest," he said, watching as Link fished out a vividly green potion, feeling the marked stopper carefully and sniffing the contents before drinking it. "I can find us a place that's safe."
"You don't see me arguing," Link muttered, though already he'd perked up a little. With a final, soft stroke of the sword's hilt, Link reached over his back to attach it to its leather fastening. "Are you ready to go?"
"Almost," Ghirahim said, the branch swaying beneath him as he rose to his feet. "Give me just a moment."
"What for?" Link asked, but Ghirahim was already gone, the question cut off halfway.
To all appearances, Groose had not moved a muscle since he'd left, but he straightened now with a mutinous scowl.
"Good news!" Ghirahim told him brightly. "I've discussed the matter with Link, and it seems he has a task for you after all. Do it well and you might even start to make up for all the trouble you must have caused in the past. Listen closely."
Perhaps Link could retrieve the sword on his own, but a bit of added insurance never hurt, and having a man on the inside might mean the difference between success and failure. The goddess would discover and reverse his interference eventually, once they were well beyond her reach, and no harm would be done. In fact, he would make certain of it—a gesture of good faith on his part. She could hardly be angry with him knowing that he could have done so much worse.
By the time he returned from sending Groose toddling on his way, Link was brushing crumbs from his face.
"That was the last of Batreaux's biscuits," he said by way of explanation, shaking his head ruefully. Batreaux? "He's not much of a cook, but it's better than nothing, I guess. Where do you keep popping off to?"
"Making sure we weren't seen," Ghirahim said vaguely, dismissing the name as unimportant. He was certain Link would not approve of what he'd done, however necessary it had been. "To no avail, it would seem, but it doesn't hurt to be cautious. Are you ready?"
"I am." Carefully raising himself to one knee, he held out a hand that Ghirahim took. "Any idea where we're going?"
"We'll find out soon." Closing his eyes in concentration, Ghirahim found the source of the resonance again, placing the location firmly in his mind. The impression he got was of somewhere… green.
Sure enough, a flicker of a second later they were still in the woods, though a deeper, darker part than Ghirahim had ever seen. Thick trees towered over them, their enormous overlapping leaves blocking out the sun so completely that only thin green light filtered through, dim and cool. Well worn paths crisscrossed each other as if someone had traversed them often, unlikely though that seemed in this deserted patch of forest, but a thin coating of mist hugging the ground hid all but that they were there.
"That's odd," Ghirahim muttered. "I didn't think it fell so near the forest."
"The wind must have carried it," Link reasoned, starting to relax beside him. "Or a bird." He froze suddenly, and his voice lowered. "Ghirahim, where are the birds?"
He was right. The ambient chirps from birds and bugs was gone now, their absence glaring in the utter silence. Something about a forest without them felt unnatural, even suffocating.
"I'm not sure," Ghirahim said, surprising himself by speaking in the same hushed voice. He had intended to come as close as he could to the blindfold's presence, but though the resonance was much stronger now, he had missed by a good couple miles. "Perhaps we startled them. Hold on."
Another wave of diamonds later they were standing in a nearly identical patch of forest, and Ghirahim frowned. They should have come out almost on top of the blindfold this time, but it felt about the same distance away now, just in another direction. Grabbing Link more tightly, he tried again, and again. Very little changed around them, unless the mist perhaps thickened slightly, but they never came any closer than they had the first time. Gritting his teeth, he tried again.
"Wait," Link gasped from beside him, and Ghirahim stopped. "Let me go."
Looking down, he found Link swaying in his grasp. As soon as he released his grip, Link sank to a crouch.
"I'm not used to that," Link muttered. "All that squeezing… just give me a second."
"I don't understand," Ghirahim said, irritation not quite masking his unease. "I should be able to take us straight to it."
"Maybe you're still tired," Link suggested, and Ghirahim frowned, offended. Even exhausted, he had never traveled anywhere but where he meant to go. "Is it too far to walk?"
"...No." It could be only an hour's walk from where they were, maybe less, and all this pointless popping around was certainly not helping him recover. Still… "No, but I don't like this place."
"Me neither," Link admitted, repressing a shiver. "We've come this far, though. Let's just get the blindfold and leave."
"Very well," Ghirahim said reluctantly. There was obviously no dissuading him. "Keep your wits about you."
"I usually do," Link said, unhooking his stick and ignoring Ghirahim's scoff of disbelief. "Lead the way."
That was easier said that than done. Multiple paths meandered from where they stood, their ends lost in silent trees with no way of knowing where they might lead. It was enough to boggle any human mind, but Ghirahim had a distinct advantage over such simple beings. After a moment's consideration he picked a path headed in roughly the right direction and they forged ahead, the only sound their own soft footsteps and the tapping of Link's stick in the dirt.
It should have been a peaceful journey with no creatures or humans around to disturb them, but in that strange silence the demon found it impossible to relax. The mist that eddied over their feet only grew stronger as they walked despite the advancing sun hidden overhead, and Ghirahim felt the beginnings of a small, incessant itch spread across his skin. Irritably, he ran long fingers across his arms when the feeling didn't pass, but the itch persisted.
After long, uncomfortable minutes filled with nothing but looming trees and mist, Link started to hum, and Ghirahim realized there was a sound more unbearable than the silence after all.
"Would you please desist?" he hissed when he could stand no more. Link stopped, abashed.
"Sorry," he said, a wave of color warming his face, and Ghirahim grunted. He could understand the desire to fill these ominous woods with noise, but that particular tune felt far too cheerful for such a dark, solemn forest.
Eventually, they reached a clearing, and Ghirahim came to a halt, turning around in a slow circle.
"This can't be right," he muttered. It was as if the blindfold's presence had… shifted, moving from the fixed point he'd been following. Now he turned back to where it led disbelievingly. "I'm certain that is where we came from. Link, don't wander off!"
"What?" Link halted, swaying a little in confusion. "I'm not going anywhere. I just thought…"
"Don't think," Ghirahim snapped. "Don't move. Just wait for me to figure this out."
"…Okay." He sounded dazed, and Ghirahim shook his head. If there was ever a next time, he was going to force Link to sleep rather than downing that obviously useless green potion. Deciding that he had no better options, Ghirahim turned back the way they had come.
"Follow me."
Link followed, muttering inaudibly under his breath and pausing every few moments to shake his head. Ghirahim could only guess at his thoughts, though with the unspoken threat of the forest hovering over them and the itch on his skin growing fiercer, Link's exhausted ramblings took up less than half his mind. The mist was thicker now, hovering halfway up his knees, and he quickened their pace with a brusque command for Link to keep up. A few minutes later, when the humming started haltingly once more, Ghirahim ground his teeth but decided to ignore that, too. This would all be over soon enough, with plenty of time to repay Link for putting him through this when it was done.
The blindfold felt closer, and Ghirahim tried to put off the thought that they were simply retracing their steps, blaming it on the monotony of the forest and the dampening mist. Once they reached the next clearing, though, it became impossible to ignore.
"Again?" Ghirahim said, staring in the direction the blindfold was pulling him towards. There could be no denying that he was facing the way they had come, but according to senses that had hitherto been reliable, that was also the direction they were supposed to go. "That's impossible! It doesn't make any sense!"
"What's impossible?" Link asked, bouncing from foot to foot. He almost looked a second away from dancing, as if that tune played in his mind even when he wasn't humming it.
"We're going around in circles," Ghirahim growled. "We have to be."
"Why don't you follow the lights?" Link suggested.
"Lights?" Ghirahim spat. "What li—"
The words froze in his throat, and he whirled to face the danger he hadn't seen coming, that itch on his skin more pronounced than ever. Leaning against his stick, Link's eyes shone strangely crimson in the dim light.
"What lights, Link?" he tried again cautiously, and Link gestured.
"Those ones." Ghirahim wished there was anything in his expression to suggest that he'd said something odd, but there was not. "I think we're supposed to follow them."
"There's nothing there," Ghirahim said harshly, not caring if his words stung. He almost hoped they did. "You cannot see."
The light in his eyes flickered and steadied. Link's head tilted to the side, and he smiled. "Yes I can."
A chill ran through Ghirahim.
"Forget about the blindfold," he said abruptly, reaching towards him. "We're leaving."
"No!" Link's voice was sharp with command, halting him in his tracks. "No teleporting. Don't take me anywhere."
Teeth grinding furiously, Ghirahim let his hand drop.
"Very well, master," he said finally, investing the title with scorn. "We will continue on, but keep your eyes closed, and do not under any circumstances look at those lights."
Link looked back longingly. "But—"
"Eyes closed!"
His order went unheeded. Time weighed down like a physical thing as Ghirahim hurried them both along, his tension growing steadily with the gleam in Link's eyes, bright and crimson. Link had finally ceased his constant humming, but the music still felt hauntingly present in the air around them, the silence now a mere facade.
This time he was unsurprised when he arrived at the clearing only to feel the blindfold's presence behind him once more. His skin practically writhed with the force of the ancient magic that seemed determined to keep them lost, which meant he could trust nothing here, not even his eyes. Especially not his eyes.
That should have given Link an advantage, but it didn't.
"They're brighter now," he said urgently as Ghirahim swept around once more. "I think they want us to follow them."
"I told you to stop looking," Ghirahim said, his patience wearing thin. This was taking too long. "It's just your mind playing tricks. Nothing you see is real."
"I… no." Link's face clouded with uncertainty, the red light retreating. "I think—"
"Don't think!" Ghirahim's temper was getting the better of him, his anger warping through the air with a thunderous crash. "Don't speak! That was never a problem for you before!" Link flinched, and Ghirahim made an effort to restrain himself, wondering if he'd gone too far. "Just follow me and—"
"No, you follow me!" Link snapped, flaring in turn, and Ghirahim's anger turned to horror in an instant.
"That's enough," Ghirahim growled, feeling strangely out of breath as his legs carried him where he did not want to go. "Release me, or you will live to regret it. Your screams will tear your throat by the time I'm done with you. Are you listening, sky child?" Link only turned, walking into the mist that swallowed him up to his waist, and Ghirahim felt his first true moment of fear. "Link!"
"Don't worry," Link said, his voice calm once more, and Ghirahim noticed that with every step he relied on his stick to guide him less and less, his feet walking the path with a familiarity they should have lacked. "The lights know the way, I'm sure of it. Just follow me."
He could do nothing else. It was written into his core now: where Link went, Ghirahim would follow.
"Let me go, you arrogant brat!"
Ghirahim insulted and pleaded, making wild promises and threats that he had no real intention of keeping. Link did not silence him, but he also didn't listen, humming that dreadful tune as he walked. All the while, that fog crept higher, though Link seemed not to notice. If anything, his footing grew more certain until eventually he abandoned his stick entirely, slipping it into his belt and retrieving his golden harp instead.
Eying the harp as if it were something deadly, Ghirahim renewed his protests. An instrument like that might give those notes real power.
"Put that away, Link. I'm tired of that song. I want to hear something else."
"I like it," Link said absently, plucking at the strings hesitantly at first, then with more confidence as the song began to flow. Soon it echoed through the forest, each soft note of the harp reverberating through him, and Ghirahim started to relax despite himself, thought slipping from his mind as the lively tune carried him away. Link's steps before him were like a dance, light and mischievous, and a part of Ghirahim wanted nothing more than to dance beside him. He had always been a good dancer.
"This forest is so green," Link marveled softly, pausing in his playing just long enough to look around in wonder. It was enough to bring Ghirahim back to himself with a rush of cold fear. He couldn't afford to be caught up as well.
"Link!" Running to get ahead of him, Ghirahim grabbed Link by the shoulders to pin him down. A haze of red clung to Link's eyes like a veil, but he stared up through it as if it were nothing. "Look at me, Link. The lights, the forest… none of it is real. You cannot see."
"You're real, and I see you," he said simply, and Ghirahim jerked back, finding himself without breath once more. Brushing past him, Link continued on his way, and Ghirahim gathered himself enough to try again, his feet following after automatically.
"I thought you were stronger than this," he said, allowing the hint of a sneer to enter his voice. "Aren't you the goddess's chosen hero?" Link's fingers stumbled over the strings of his harp, a frown crossing his face, and Ghirahim pressed on eagerly. "What of the goddess? What of… Zelda?" He grimaced. "She's going to think you are dead, Link. You'll never see her again."
Link's frown deepened, and he played a few notes of something else before shaking his head.
"You talk too much," he said flatly, picking up the now terribly familiar melody once more. "Stop talking."
Dread filled him, but he obediently went silent, trailing after Link like a shadow.
The fog had risen to Link's neck. Before long, it would swallow him whole, and he was sure that Link would be lost in truth. Ghirahim thought he knew how the paths had grown so worn now, and wondered what had happened to all those lost souls who had come before them, those others lured in by the woods whose feet had prepared the way. The music of the forest lulled him slowly into complacency once more, and he thought with a detached sort of misery that finding another master in a place like this would be impossible. It seemed unlikely that any who came seeking his sword would escape the forest's thrall.
Ghirahim sighed heavily, then froze at the sound that came out of him, though his feet soon carried him on. Of course. Link had ordered him not to speak, but…
The music seduced him, cloying his thoughts, and he decided that the first order of business was to drown it out. Casting in his mind desperately for something that would do the trick, he remembered the more heroic melody Link had played not long ago in a friendlier tree top. Holding it firmly in his thoughts, Ghirahim began to hum, holding his fingers to his ears to block out all other sound… and the harp stopped.
Whirling around, Link stared at him, tense fingers hovering over the strings. Ghirahim stared back, still humming. After a long pause, Link looked away, plucking aimlessly at the golden instrument, but the old melody refused to coalesce, fading away each time in a jumble of discordant notes. Ghirahim continued humming, not daring to stop as Link's meager efforts halted once more and he tilted his head, listening. Finally, Link brought his hand up to the harp and, with excruciating slowness, began to pick out a new song. His song. The Song of the Hero.
Those first notes swept around them like a breath of fresh air, and Ghirahim felt his hopes rise with them. This melody had power, too, though he hadn't noticed it before. Each quivering note from the harp slipped through him gently, warming the air like sunlight, and something inside him firmed with a steely resolve. He knew what he had to do next.
The red haze did not fade from Link's eyes, but he continued to play, staring at Ghirahim with growing awareness. A few times he opened his mouth only to close it again, but Ghirahim waited patiently. Finally, Link spoke, his voice a rough croak.
"Help me…"
Stepping forward and humming louder, Ghirahim gestured meaningfully to his throat, and Link seemed to understand, licking his lips before speaking once more.
"Tell me… what I need to do," he whispered.
"Don't stop playing," Ghirahim told him, finally letting his end of the song drop, and Link nodded shakily. His hands trembled on the harp without Ghirahim's voice to guide him, but he played on. "Order me to take you to safety."
"Take me…" Link's voice shook, and he looked away. "I'm sorry. Take me to the blindfold."
Ghirahim growled, but he didn't need telling twice. Scooping Link up in his arms and holding him well above the mist, Ghirahim ran, sprinting through the forest at supernatural speeds. A few times Link almost lost the melody, his hands freezing in panic as the thrall threatened to consume him, but Ghirahim's humming set him straight once more, and he played on. The two of them passed clearing after clearing, Ghirahim spinning about to run the way they had come and feeling the blindfold's presence grow closer each time, until finally they emerged in an open space that was different from where they had been.
"There it is!" Link shouted, staring fixedly in one direction even as his hands continued to play. Following his gaze, Ghirahim saw it: a blue scrap of cloth fluttering from the branches above.
Even as he found it, the branches rustled as if to withdraw, and Link cried out in wordless protest. Ghirahim snapped, and there was a large crack as the branch broke off, plummeting to the earth.
"Let me down," Link said urgently. "Tie it around my eyes."
Ghirahim set him down, grimacing as the fog nearly swallowed him up. Feeling blindly through the mist for where it had landed, Ghirahim finally found the blue cloth, grasping it firmly so nothing else could steal it away. The fog was so thick now that only the sound of the harp led him back.
"Are you sure about this?" There was no time for hesitation, except… "You won't be able to see."
Link only laughed, the music swelling with him.
"That's nothing new," he said, grim despite his mirth. "I've paid that price already. Just do it."
Ghirahim affixed the blindfold with deft fingers, tying it firmly around Link's eyes. The red light was doused as if by water, and a hush fell over the clearing as his hand on the harp went still. Link let out a long sigh, then abruptly spun around, raising a furious fist as if at the forest itself.
"Do you think you can make me forget who I am?" he roared, and to Ghirahim's shock, golden light illuminated his hand, three perfect triangles arranged to form a single, larger one. The fog burned away before it, revealing tall trees that should have seemed to tower over Link, though he somehow held his own. Scooping up a handful of dirt from the ground, Link shook it at them. "Do you think you can have me? Someday, my body will join this dirt, and even then you cannot have me. I am the hero of the goddess, in this life and in all others, but my choices are still my own, and I do not choose this!"
"That's enough!" Ghirahim shouted, turning his head. He was sure if he stared at that holy light for too long, he would go as blind as Link. "Let it go! We need to get out of here."
Link continued to glare, the blindfold not nearly enough to mask the intensity of his anger, but to Ghirahim's relief, the light from his hand flickered and died, and he nodded. Grasping Link by the shoulders, Ghirahim summoned the diamonds that consumed them, and moments later they were on the outskirts of the strange forest, safely out of its reach.
Trees still surrounded them, but they were not incredibly old or tall, and the chirping of crickets nearby made Ghirahim weak with relief. The sky above was a shock, though. He could have sworn they had been gone for only an hour, two at most, but the sun had dropped well below the horizon now, true night just starting to settle in.
Link sank to his knees as soon as they were out, hugging himself as tremors wracked his body. Ghirahim only watched for a moment, feeling distinctly out of his element, but eventually he knelt beside him, placing a single hand on his shoulder.
"You're an idiot," he muttered. It appeared to do the trick, because Link laughed weakly despite himself, leaning up against him and shaking harder.
"You're released from all orders," he mumbled. "All of them. I'm sorry. Just… please don't harm my friends. I'm sorry."
"I'll do my best," Ghirahim found himself promising, not knowing what else to say. Link nodded, rubbing a hand across his mouth.
"Nobody should be able to do that to anyone else," he whispered fiercely. "Nobody. I wish I couldn't do it to you."
"I know." His thoughts flew to Groose up in the sky, waiting to act under his orders. Too late to do anything about it now, even if he wanted to. "I'm sorry."
"Thank you," Link said, and Ghirahim stiffened. "You got me out of there. I owe you."
"At this rate, you will never stop owing me," Ghirahim said, and was rewarded this time with a stronger laugh. For a long moment they only knelt there together, listening to the comforting sounds of the forest. Finally, Link stood up, and Ghirahim followed.
"I guess that was probably a mistake," Link admitted with a shaky laugh. "But it feels… good… to know I can find you again."
Link turned to face him, and for once, Ghirahim realized that Link knew exactly what he was, the thread that bound them together made visible to his eyes.
"Agreed," Ghirahim said. "On both accounts." He hesitated, a calculating light entering his eyes as he considered his next words carefully. "I did not realize that the Triforce was still in your possession."
"What?" Link tilted his head in confusion, a gesture so reminiscent of the Link of the forest that Ghirahim felt a strange moment of panic. "It's not. It's supposed to be floating in the sky over the Goddess Statue, though I guess I… haven't seen it."
This was so obviously untrue that Ghirahim almost laughed, though as far as he could tell, Link wasn't intentionally lying. It was a thread to be pursued another day. Still, he couldn't keep from glancing at the leather of Link's gauntlet, completely unmarred despite the light that had burned through it so recently. Link still hadn't released his fist.
"What are you holding?" he asked, and Link frowned, opening his hand to feel its contents.
"Dirt, I think. And… an acorn?" Link shuddered, dropping it. "Any seed that grows from that forest must be cursed."
"Perhaps." It didn't look cursed to him. For a moment, he almost thought it flashed golden—a trick of the light, perhaps, though he imagined how the radiance of the Triforce must have shone around it in Link's fist. "We should find a place to sleep. Somehow, I did not find that experience all that restful."
"You're right," Link agreed, sounding equally exhausted. "It might be a little early for it, but if we can find somewhere safe, I think I could sleep for a day and a night."
"It's night already," Ghirahim informed him quietly, and Link paused.
"A night and a day, then," he amended, but he looked unnerved, and Ghirahim knew what he was thinking. Had they spent one day in those woods? Two days? More? "We can make plans for the next flame later. Lead the way… please."
Ghirahim was more than happy to do so, though he paused to kick a bit of dirt over the acorn, tamping it down with his foot before taking Link's arm and whisking them away. It was probably a pointless gesture, but he made it anyway, refusing to examine his reasons for doing so. Who could say what might sprout from such a seed? With any luck, maybe something… good.