Typical Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with Nintendo, I have no claim to any of the characters in the story below (except for the name Zartaris). Shigeru Miyamoto and Nintendo own the Legend of Zelda series, not me.

Author's Note: As is easily noticed, Zartaris obviously seems much more powerful than the other gods. The reason for this is 'my love and devotion to what I had worked so hard for made me the most powerful god in existence.' In other words, his superior power is due to the fact that he is fueled and driven by his dedication and emotions, while many of his fellow gods have become debauched spectators, using their worlds for amusement. They lack drive; thus they have weakened themselves. On a different note, in many ways, after he realizes Majora's Mask is still an enemy, he grows even more powerful, for hatred becomes another driving force, increasing his already awesome power.

My wrath was nothing to underestimate as I leaped at the hated mask. If my earlier attack on Majora had seemed like ten thousand exploding suns, this attack, backed up by all my powers, was much more. In fact, when my powers had been taken from me, I was the most powerful god in existence; with all my powers restored, combined with my hatred, my every blow was like a hundred angry gods jointly attacking. Instead of being the power of ten thousand exploding suns, it was the energy of millions of galaxies detonating.

The Legend's Flame sailed through Majora as if the mask wasn't even there, effortlessly halving it. With a mere thought, I destroyed both halves. Yet when I blinked, or turned for the slightest moment, Majora was back, attacking me. Fortunately, the Black Armor of Truth and Justice, forged to deflect even the mightiest attack of the gods, protected me.

Majora's painted eyes began to glow, and I heard a whining drone, the sound of the mask preparing to shoot a beam of fire at me. I whipped the Legend's Flame around, firing a whirling disc of holy energy at the mask. Just before Majora shot the fire beam, the disc smashed into it, right between the eyes. Unmoved, it shot the beam of flame at me. It impacted against my chest, but as it had so many times in the past, the Black Armor shrugged off the blow, and I felt nothing, not even the heat.

The mask spun, Frisbee style, towards me, with spikes sticking out of its edge; wickedly pointed daggers waiting to slice through my defenses. As it approached, I angled Legend's Flame towards it and shot a blast of divine energies at it. The mask instantly dissolved, only to reappear a second later.

Majora's frustration was evident, as was mine. I had thrown all I had against it, and while each attack invariably destroyed it, the mask would rise like the Phoenix from its ashes, ready to renew the battle. The mask had thrown its all against me, yet it couldn't even scratch my Armor, and since a god cannot be weakened, it hadn't even tired me out. We seemed for all intents and purposes, equally matched.

"I say, Zartaris," the mask said, using a diplomatic tone that could have gotten a monkey elected mayor of Clock Town. "I misjudged you greatly. Unlike your fellow gods, you're no push over."

"I know you too well, you evil thing. You owned my spirit, imprisoned in that mask, for tens of centuries. I know you like the back of my hand."

"Then you see how futile our fight is! Zartaris, join my ranks!"

I launched another energy disc from the tip of the Legend's Flame. "Never shall I do such. As I said, I will be your end, even if my existence is the cost!"

Majora ducked my attack. "It is a shame you feel that way. Just think of what your 'dearly departed' relatives are going through!"

For a moment, I stopped.

"Ho Ho Ho! Yes, they are in great pain! I didn't kill them at all, I simply took their immortality from them; look at their fate!" The mask's eyes vanished, superimposed with the image of a fiery wasteland. My mother, father, cousins, brother, and even my brother-in-law, were there. As I looked, I recognized the wasteland; the burning town in the background, the Snowhead mountain range: it was Termina. Not only was the mask torturing my family, but also my people! I looked at the mask with complete hatred and malice, and I leaped forward.

I hit the mask like a truck hitting a stone wall at seventy miles per hour. Dropping the Legend's Flame, I clutched the mask with one of my armored hands and smashed it to tiny pieces against my other hand. I crushed the tiny bits left over into dust, which I burned, electrified, and finally banished from existence. Then I had a terrible realization as I felt a point against the back of my neck.

"Zartaris, you may well be the most noble of the gods, but even you aren't noble to perfection," Majora sneered. "Your flaw is now my advantage!"

I slowly turned. The mask had changed from mask to Majora's Incarnation, and in this form, it had used its whip like tentacles to scoop up the Legend's Flame. For one of the first times in my eternal existence, I felt true fear, for the only weapon the Black Armor had been unable to resist when I had first tested it was my sacred sword.

"Do you feel fear for your life, Zartaris? Do you realize your error?"

I did realize my err. I had left Legend's Flame unguarded. However, it was not my life that I feared for; I feared for my family, and for the mortals. How could I defeat the mask if it held the only weapon I could not resist? I had to have Legend's Flame back!

I dove forward and grabbed the sword's hilt. I tried to wrest it away from Majora, but the evil thing pressed down against the hilt. I felt a horrible pain across my midsection as the Legend's Flame slashed a jagged red arc through my waist, slicing both my body and my armor like scissors cutting tissue paper. As the bloodied blade pulled away, I felt utterly destroyed, for I realized that I had lost my immortality. As a last resort attack, I gathered together all the energy I could concentrate into one blast, and zapped at Majora. The being of evil simply moved the Legend's Flame to meet the attack, and in a flash, my attack, strong enough to destroy time itself, was simply gone.

It was over. I had thought I would win, but in a single battle, Majora had won the war. I knew it was ended, and so did Majora.

However, I had said that even if I had to die, I would kill that creature. I, Zartaris, have never gone back on my words, and even then, I didn't. Though I was wounded, I leaped at Majora's Incarnation and delivered to its face a feeble punch, the strongest I could manage.

With the flat side of the Legend's Flame, it swatted me across the room. I landed in a sickening bloody heap, barely alive. With the last of my strength, I forced myself to my feet, ignoring the stinging pain of broken ribs. I gathered together the last of my power; I had saved my most powerful for last. It was a power I had hoped I would never need to use, for it was suicidal; it was the most powerful of the 'kill yourself to take your enemy with you' type magic.

"Had enough, Zartaris? You know, I never thought such a weakling as you could be so determined." Majora laughed long and hard; if I had my way, it would be his last.

"Laugh, you creature of darkness, for it will be your last." I concentrated the full force of the blast on as small an area as I could around us; if I didn't, there would be nothing left in existence, save my fellow gods, if they were very lucky.

"What are you going to do about it, Zartaris? Dazzle me with your now nonexistent powers?"

I could feel the power of my last magic build to its fullest. I whispered a blessing for the mortals, for Termina, for my family, and I took a breath, savoring its revitalizing affects.

"You win the battle, Majora, but I, Zartaris, God of Nobility, win the war! Feel my wrath and tremble!" A sphere of sacred light formed around us, supercharged with the power of the elements, fueled by my resolve and hatred. The heavens unraveled in a brilliant bolt of lightning as I bombarded Majora with the most powerful disaster ever seen. Imagine everything in existence exploding, amplify that by infinity, and that doesn't even approach what I hit that being of darkness with. Yet it was a double edged sword, for the instant it was done with Majora, it settled on me.

I saw darkness. Then I saw the past, images of better times; Vulcan was alive, the mortals I loved were happy, life was better. I felt a dark hand reach into my death and pull me out. As I opened my eyes, I was looking into the eyes of the mask.

"So, Zartaris, you thought I was done for, didn't you?" I had failed…it was still alive…and it had brought me back to life? "Didn't you hear me earlier? Death matters none to me! I cannot be destroyed, but you can, as you just proved with that wasteful display of power."

"What do you want me for? Death is better than what I have done…better than my crime…I failed, and all will suffer under you…"

"Death is too good for you! You will see your mortals again, for I'm sending you to Termina! You and the rest of the gods will live under me for eternity as mortals! As for this piece of trash," Majora threw away the Legend's Flame. "I cannot destroy that, but no one will ever get to use that horrid thing again."

I weakly reached towards my sword. Majora hit my arm with a weakened beam of flame, and involuntarily I pulled away from it.

"So Zartaris, you will live with your people for all time. Be gone from my presence!"

I felt myself dissolve. As a thin thread of existence I fell from what was left of the heavens. When I rematerialized, I was back in Termina, but this time, I was a slave. I was a god without power, an immortal without immortality. In short, life looked hopeless.