A/N: I'm so so so so sooooo sorry I haven't updated this in awhile!  I really couldn't write anything…  Anyway, I hope you all like this and aren't too pissed it took me so long.

Oh, and to Liliana, if you happen to read this: if you'd like my idea of where Dark Link came from you might wanna read Sides of the Coin, which is another of my fics.  It's another view of Dark Link's thoughts, or at least chapter one is (chapter two focuses on Link).

Chapter 3:

Volvagia

"Father, I'm hungry…"

I look at my poor son, who is curled up beside me.  "I know, son, I know."

My son looks as though he is about to cry, the pain in his stomach is so bad.  I can't take this!  My life means nothing to me, but the life of my only son…

That's why I allow King Gannondorf to command me, you must understand.  It's not entirely rage and I don't eat Gorons.  They're about as easy to digest as rocks, and less nutritious.  I've actually debated whether I should start eating rocks and see if they're edible…

I can't leave this place, partially for stupid reasons and partially for more understandable reasons.  First, this is my home, and the home of my father, and his father before him, and so forth and so on.  Second, I have been charged by King Gannondorf to defend this place.  Third, my son is too young and weak to make a long journey.  And fourth, there are few places fire wyverns such as ourselves could inhabit.

A loud rumble from my son's stomach snaps me back to reality, and his pained sobs.  To hear my son cry is more painful than any torture any being ever devised.  He, after all, is the only one of his litter that survived, and that litter was my first, and probably only, offspring.

How is this so?  How can a great fire wyvern like myself be reduced to having to beg humans for food for his offspring?  I ruled this mountain, this volcano, once upon a time.  None questioned my authority, but I was fair, as dragons and their like tend to be.  I never slaughtered mercilessly. When someone came to me for advice, I gave it if I could.  I was the judge and jury at trials, and I dealt with criminals fairly, and I never sentenced one who was innocent.  Lovely thing, being able to read minds.

And then some stupid Goron 'hero' came with that damned hammer and took my life.  Never mind what I had done for his people and everything else living on this mountain.  The damned Goron was furious at me because I sentenced one of his friends to death, which he felt was unfair and untrue.  May it be noted that his friend had deliberately killed his younger brother.

He somehow persuaded most of his people into believing I was a heartless monster and deliberately sentenced Gorons to death and other unfair punishments for crimes they had never committed.  One hundred thousand years of fair rule destroyed in ten months!  Worse yet, they elevated the idiot to the rank of the first Big Brother for my death!

I'm not sure whether or not I'm glad that King Gannondorf revived me.  On one hand, I have seen my son, whom my mate was carrying at the time of my death.  For those of you who don't know, dragons, being almost immortal, take an extremely long time to mature.  Egg gestation alone is one thousand years.

On the other hand, I must now watch my son cry with hunger that I cannot ease.  I suffer starvation, scorn, and, doubtlessly, death.  Not only that, but my mate, my beautiful, spunky, playful mate, is dead.  Dead!  The ocean emptied of water could not hold the fiery tears I wept for her.  And of the twelve eggs my mate laid, only one survived.

What is truly odd is that I remember nothing of my death.  I used to believe that there was no afterlife, but dying has made me wonder.  If there is no afterlife, how could I have been revived?  How could my body be created anew and my soul affixed in it?  But, I do, however, believe that what is really in the realm of the dead is for no living creature to know.

Once again, my son's sobs snap me back to reality, but this time I hear voices outside of the door.  One sounds distinctively like a Goron, but the other I cannot make out.  The Goron tells the other one to find the Magneton Hammer (may the Holy Three forever damn the hands that made that accursed weapon!) so that together they may defeat me.

A few moments later, the Goron opens the door, and my heart skips a few beats as I see him.  This could only be one of the progeny of the idiot who killed me!

I rise up suddenly, startling my son, and let out a horrific roar.  The Goron tries not to show his fear, but I see it in his mind, and I revel in it, I drink it in.  Yes, let him quake in fear for what his ancestor did to me!

My son instinctually dives into lava, as young dragons are wont to do when their parents make a cry like that.  This relieves me, for that makes him one less thing to worry about.  I let out another roar, so loud it shakes some stalactites loose from the ceiling, and makes the entire cave quake.

"I'M WARNING YOU, GORON, I DON'T TAKE KINDLY TO THE KIN OF THE ONE WHO KIILLED ME!" I roared, taking to the air.  I began to release fire magic into the air around the room, and then screamed, "DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOUR ANCESTOR HAS DONE!?  WHAT DO YOUR RECORDS SAY OF ME, GODDESSES DAMN YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE LINE!?  DO YOU THINK I'M A HEARTLESS, HONORLESS KILLER?  DO YOU?  SEE IF YOU CAN DREDGE UP SOME REAL RECORDS OF MY TIME AS A RULER!  NOW GET OUT OF MY CHAMBER, AND IF YOU AREN'T OUT IN TEN SECONDS, I'LL EAT YOU ALIVE REGARDLESS OF HOW I LOATHE GORON-FLESH!"

My screams shook the entire mountain, I believe, and I was thrilled with this; it made me feel powerful again.  That, and it terrified the Goron; he fled the room in a hurry.  I send a chain of fire after him to hurry him along, laughing.

My son crawled from out of the lava, looking up at me, terrified.  "F-father…" he whimpered, even his crawl wobbly from hunger.

I immediately landed on the platform, nuzzling the young dragon.  "I'm sorry, my son…  I don't like to let get carried away.  I've told you what my reign was really like, haven't I?"

"Yes, Father."

He curled up against me, resuming his usual soft crying.  Goddesses, what did my son ever do to deserve such a fate?

Sleep, these days, is the only refuge I have.

The condition of my son worried me.  He grew steadily weaker and frailer, his walk became more and more shaky, he grew gaunt, and he began to lack the energy to even cry.  The fast did not bother me, for as an adult wyvern I can fast for hundreds, or even thousands, of years.  My son is still too young to survive this starvation, but what could I do?  I cannot make food appear for him; I could only pray to the Goddesses that I could kill that Hylian hero soon, for King Gannondorf promised a reward of food and a different home should I do so.

I had been sleeping for a few days to pass the time but was awakened by the almost inaudible sounds of someone walking and destroying blocks.  He would be here soon, that Hylian boy.  I was ready for him, and I would take his life.  May the Goddesses forgive me for what I have had to stoop down to…

"Come, my son, the Hylian will be here soon," I murmured softly, nudging my nose underneath his still jaw.  "Let me help you into the lava so that when the boy gets here—son?"

My son had not awakened as I nuzzled him, and was still limp as if from sleep.  His head moved like one of a rag doll, flaccid.  It was then I noticed that the long strands of fiery skin mounted behind his skull had faded, the fire extinguished to expose the pale red flesh underneath.

Even though the possibility was very real, I had never permitted myself to think of what would happen if my son was to… to die.  I had thought that… I would somehow pull through, as I had always been able to do before.

"Son?" I whispered hoarsely, pushing him onto his back with my claws.  His body twisted limply under my fingers like a length of rope.  I pressed my thumb against his exposed chest, feeling for heat and a heartbeat.  His skin was cold and dry, his scales dull.  With mortals, the best sign of death may be the lack of heartbeat, but with fire wyverns, the absence of body heat is the only sure sign of death.

"NO!" I cried, pulling back from him, unable to believe this to be true.  How could I have allowed my only son, the last of my line, and the only being I had left, to die?  How could it have happened?

Sobs wracked my body as I pressed my hand one last time against his slender chest.  This only confirmed what I knew but could not believe: my son was dead.  How could I have let this happen?  Not only had I let him die, but I had let him die alone without realizing he was this close to death!  How could I have been such a fool?  Why hadn't I known?!

I collapsed beside him, sobbing miserably.  My beautiful son, my only child…  He was the only being in this universe who loved me; he was the only reminder of the beauty and grace of my mate.

I heard the door to the room before mine open, but it did not stir me.  Why did it matter?  What did I have to fight for, now that my son was dead?

I forced myself up, curling my lower body into a snakelike position.  With my arms hanging limply at my sides, I exhaled a burst of flames onto the body of my son.  In a matter of seconds, he had burned away to leave nothing, not even ashes.  I had not wanted to do it, but it had to be done; he deserved a proper cremation.  Having done this, I slipped into a pool of lava to await the boy, and my death.

The door of my room opened and the boy crossed the lava to my platform.  With a heavy heart and suicide on mind, I flew from the lava high above his head, observing him.  He really was no more than a boy; he was seventeen, at the oldest.  King Gannondorf was so worried about this child…  I could have killed him easily, if I had wanted to.  But with my son, my mate, and my world, dead, what was the point?  When else would death invite me so readily?

I swooped down to him, embracing death with open arms.