Disclaimer: If I owned Legend of Zelda, Phantom Ganon would not have been harder to beat than the real thing.

Author's Notes: Oddly enough, this popped up in my head in the form of plot bunnies. I was looking through some pictures of Ganon and it started eating my brain. But I'm pleased with the results of said plot bunnies, so it's okay. Or something. I'm not so pleased with the ending, as it seems a little weak, but the world itself is something I'm proud of.

Inbetween Days: Other Realm

Phantom Ganon, he had been called. His master created him for one purpose, but he had failed. Deemed unworthy of any more of the Dark King's effort, he had been banished to another realm.

The creatures that lived here were vicious things, and he had nearly "died" (because, indeed, a being created of magic and blood was hardly alive) many times in the beginning. He called it the beginning because Time did not flow through this realm—or, if it did, it was impossible to tell.

It was forever dark here, with thick, gray clouds blocking out the dull sun and the sky, which was such a shade of green Phantom Ganon thought of his master upon catching a glimpse of it. The ground was always wet, stinking, and muddy. Few plants grew from this mud, but the ones that did showed no signs of life. Only the beasts thrived here.

His horse had perished, but he still had his long staff, and its three wicked blades were as sharp as always. If he coated these blades in the mud that had stained his body and dulled his sunken, fiery eyes, it was child's play to kill the other inhabitants of this world. He didn't need to eat, it was true, but occasionally an instinct would drive him to hunt one of the more dangerous things that occupied this hellish place with him.

Phantom Ganon sat now against a trunk of a twisted, graying thing that might have passed as either a tree or the claw of some long-dead dragon, curled forever in its last agony. Phantom Ganon did not care which of the two it was, as long as it didn't begin moving. A small animal slowly waddled its way past, its six large feet sinking far into the mud. Quiet grunts came from the blind, stubby-legged beast as it pulled free from the ground. Little pops and squelches drowned out any other sounds the creature might have made, however, as it pulled free from the mud's suction.

After a moment of watching, Phantom Ganon stood slowly and gripped the fat thing around its middle. It shrieked in fear, bearing its three rows of wicked, razor-sharp teeth, but it settled when Phantom Ganon tapped it between its shoulders. These animals had no eyes, and instead had to rely on smell and touch to hunt—how they did it, he did not know. All he could smell ever was the stink of the mud and rotting bodies littered throughout the realm. The creature in his hands tucked its six legs against its belly, allowing Phantom Ganon to carry it to a large, dry rock. It promptly curled up here, letting out a growl of appreciation as the phantom stroked its rough, brown skin.

This place had been his home for seemingly an eternity, but still he was at its mercy. Creatures still overpowered him and drove him into the trees, and until they began tearing at its yellow-and-brown spotted bark, he couldn't be entirely sure that it wasn't another predator of this world.

Those were, by far, the most dangerous. Phantom Ganon considered them phantoms in their own rights—they took on the shape of the trees and acted as doppelgangers until a naïve animal sought shelter under its branches. Then it would slip a long, powerful tendril out from under its "roots", pull the poor beast under the mud, and devour it. That's why the smell of rotted flesh was so strong here: it was in the ground itself.

This realm stunk of death, and it sickened him.

In the distance, a low rumble sounded from behind one of the few hills in this place, and his little friend on the rock lifted its head. Everything here knew when it would rain from the ominous thunderclaps and wolfo-like howling that always followed. He suspected this rain was occurring somewhere at any given time for all eternity… and that it was the life-source, in some aspects, to the things living here. They would all crawl out from under their mud beds, leave their pray to die even if they were in the middle of tearing into its flesh while it squirmed to free itself, and wait.

The waiting was full of tension and anxiety—Phantom Ganon hated it, but the animals seemed to love it. He stood on one foot, gripping his staff in one hand, and stared in the direction of the thunder. Once the rain began to fall, the beings that lived here would all stretch and reach for its soothing wetness and drink, even as it made their skin smoke and their eyes burn. This, however, seemed to fuel them and rejuvenate them—Phantom Ganon would not be so lucky.

This acid rain had burned him thoroughly and left him shrieking in pain as he ran for cover the first time it had fallen. Finally he had escaped by diving under a large, wide beast that vaguely resembled a dragon in the face, but Lord Jabu-Jabu—the Zora's pathetic deity—in body. Ever since, if he could not find another one of these Jabu-Jabu creatures, he would seek a boulder or an abandoned hole in the mud.

It was hardly dignified for something spawned of the King of Evil, but it was necessary for his survival, although survival seemed to be the last thing on his mind, sometimes. This was not one of them.

Soon the rain fell and the beasts popped up and bounded into the cruel shower, just as they always did. Phantom Ganon's friend snapped at his hand, which had been resting on its back absently, and moved to a higher point on its rock. The phantom slid his staff into its holders on his back and began running, forcing some of his remaining magic to his feet to keep him from sinking into the mud. There was a small clan of Jabu-Jabu beasts living near there, and he was certain that if got to them quickly, he would be able to wait out the rains under their large bellies.

The storm moved more quickly than he had predicted, however. It was soon he felt the bite of the acid on his skin and the long blade-like horns protruding from his forehead. It didn't hurt yet—merely stung a little, much like a young Barinade just learning to wield its stingers.

He began to panic when he couldn't find his Jabu-Jabu family, and cursed himself for using so much magic in the beginning to try to find a way out of this realm. He couldn't fly anymore, but still did have enough to ignite a fire or hover above the mud, just as he was doing now to escape the rain. Suddenly he caught sight of one of his smaller beasts and stumbled in his haste to turn and run towards it. The spatter of rain against the mud was almost deafening now, but he could still hear his ragged breath and hisses of pain as the rain began to increase in intensity.

Just as he despaired that the Jabu-Jabu beast was getting no closer, he tripped over a tiny being laying in the mud and soaking up the rain, sending him skidding through the wet ground a few feet. As the burning spread to his back, he crawled desperately to reach the underside of his beast, and then pulled himself up into a tight ball once its fat belly shaded him.

He supposed one would see panic in his eyes—if, indeed, his eyes portrayed any emotions—but he didn't care. He was safe, and that's all that mattered to him. One of the horns on his forehead poked the Jabu-Jabu's underbelly, making it murr in curiosity and crane its long, thick neck to peer at Phantom Ganon.

They stared at each other for a moment, then the Jabu-Jabu let out a soft thrum in his chest and turned back to the blackening sky. The rain would end soon (as it always did here), but he would remain by the side of his new friend. Blaz, he decided to name him. Cautiously, he reached up to stroke Blaz's underside, and the beast shifted, but not of discomfort.

The rain ended not much long after, but the mud was dried and cracked on Phantom Ganon's body in some places by the time he emerged from under Blaz and pat his leg with something akin to gratefulness. Blaz thrummed at him and his broad, blue tongue slid out from between his lips to lap up some of the excess rain from the ground. The phantom watched for a moment disinterestedly, then turned and looked around him.

The realm looked very much the same as it always did, which didn't surprise him in the least. This happened every once in a while—he couldn't say exactly how often, of course, because Time ignored this place—and it always happened like it did the time before it. Needless to say, aside from being hellish and cruel, this realm was… boring.

Phantom Ganon pat Blaz once more before sauntering off slowly in the opposite direction. It took only a moment to realize the great beast was following him, sniffing at him curiously. He turned to look over his shoulder at him, frowned the best he could, and sighed inwardly at the young Jabu-Jabu beast. It was young, he already knew, but its curiosity betrayed its youth completely.

The phantom didn't have any energy to bother with this beast by shooing it away, so he permitted it to follow him until it grew bored.

What would have been a day later, Blaz still had not grown bored of Phantom Ganon. The magical being still did not shoo him off, having grown a sort of fondness for the Jabu-Jabu creature. Perhaps it was because of the odd, magical aura the being had, that no other creature in this realm had. Magic seemed non-existent here, and it perplexed him to find a young Jabu-Jabu with so much as an inclination to the craft.

But, he supposed, perhaps not. A gentle thing, Blaz was, and he was eager to please. His dull gray eyes held a curiosity in them, almost a sign of intelligence. But Goddesses knew the phantom himself was the only living thing in this forsaken place with any kind of brains, so that notion was a silly one.

A month later (of course, this was the Phantom's speculation, based on how often he slept), Blaz remained his companion, and the Jabu-Jabu's magical abilities still mystified him to some extent. Blaz had never proven able to use magic, but he possessed it nonetheless. It was also then that the acid rain decided to return to their area of living.

It was not the thunder that warned Phantom Ganon this time, but the wolfo-howl and Blaz's attention to the foreboding rain clouds. The sky darkened, and the phantom calmly slipped under his friend's belly, as he had done the last rain. This time, however, Blaz did not settle for standing still and sheltering the smaller being. Slowly, he ambled forward to reach the before him. Already other creatures gathered there, awaiting the burning rain anxiously.

Phantom Ganon snarled in annoyance and swore inwardly before moving after the stupid beast. He thought that if the Jabu-Jabu was planning to abandon him for the rain, he would gut him and leave his steaming innards for the other carnivores to devour as he found himself another "companion."

This didn't seem to be the case, however, as Blaz stopped on the steep hill and turned his gaze not to the sky, but to Phantom Ganon. He seemed to be waiting patiently for his companion to stand with him, his fin-like tail swaying. With a soft thrum, he nudged the phantom with his hard, scaly nose to stand before him and witness the oncoming storm.

Phantom Ganon reached behind him and began to draw his staff, on the verge of taking out his frustration with his Jabu-Jabu on one of the smaller beasts, when he saw what had drawn Blaz to this spot.

Just at the foot of the hill, there seemed to be a tree aflame, and it looked as though it had been ignited not with lightning, which hadn't even reached that area yet, but by a spell. The phantom gripped a small horn on Blaz's muzzle and tugged him along, pulling the beast to the tree. If the acid rain were to fall as he inspected the tree, he would have shelter one way or another. With a quick glance to verify the rain had not gotten so close as to be a threat quite yet, he thrust his hand into the fire and against the tree bark.

The bark crumbled under his palm, but no pain ailed him. Thinking this very curious, he drew his staff and began carving into the charred wood, but only marveled that the metal blades did not so much as redden from the heat, let alone blacken from the smoke. The phantom then moved forward, thrusting the blades into the mud next to him, and began to tear at the bark of this mysterious tree. A few pieces of sharp charcoal poked his fingers, but he didn't heed the small pricks.

The center of the tree, under all of the bark and flames, was untouched. It was the same dark purple of the rest of the trees in this world, and seemed as healthy as something on fire could be. Upon seeing this, he removed his staff from the mud, slipped it thoughtfully into its place on his back, and looked up at Blaz. The Jabu-Jabu murred and brushed his tongue against the tree. More burning wood came off in great chunks, but nothing else happened.

After a moment of examining the trunk, the thunder boomed a short way away, and the phantom stroked Blaz's side thoughtfully. The Jabu-Jabu blinked at him, reaching up to chew on some of the higher branches. The flames danced over his muzzle, but he showed no sign of pain or discomfort. In a moment of silliness, the phantom considered it, he let a portion of his magic flow to the body of the great beast, and Blaz murred loudly, swaying. His magical aura grew in intensity, and he touched his nose to Phantom Ganon's armored chest as their magic mingled. It was then that the Phantom noticed one hand was still in contact with the tree, and it, too, was glowing with an aura.

Intrigued, he poured the mixed magic into the tree, watching for its reactions. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, to his disappointment, the aura dimmed and dissipated slowly. Blaz thrummed and yawned, blowing hot breath onto the tree—the flames did not sway with the movement of air, but the aura returned and began to envelop them.

The air grew hot and smoke stung Phantom Ganon's eyes. He cried out in surprise, but could not move from the burning sensation biting into his flesh and singeing his clothing. Blaz grumbled and pulled free from the phantom's touch, then shrieked in pain and fear; Phantom Ganon forced his eyes open and saw no longer was the ground covered in mud, nor was thunder clapping overhead.

Instead, he stood just outside the meadow of the Forest Temple in Hyrule.