Chapter 21: Shameful Defeat

They sat at the table in silence, a plump, roasted cucco and a loaf of bread on the table. The Hermit took a knife and began to cut the bread into slices, but with only one hand, he struggled.

"Let me help you," Link said, and he held the bread in place for the Hermit to cut.

"Thanks," the Hermit said, slicing the loaf. "Sometimes it's hard just having one arm." He finished cutting the bread and took a bite. He sighed. "I never told you how it happened, did I, Link? Well, I think it would be best if you knew."

Link looked up into his eyes. "Tell me then, Uriel. I'm listening."

Swirling black clouds consumed the night sky. The Hermit walked through the streets alone as the violent storm overhead sprayed droplets of water upon the young village. The Hermit had instructed all of his fellow citizens to hide where they could and never come out until he gave the word. Even the town's most experienced soldiers were told to take cover. They would only get in the way.

"We meet again," a foul beast said from amid the shadows.

The Hermit lifted his hood, revealing his stern, haggard face. He gripped his sword tightly and pointed it forward, rainwater dripping down his stone-like face. "Leave," the Hermit ordered. "You are not welcome here."

"I will go," the Phantom said, "but my Poes will stay. You have a choice, Uriel. You can stay here and help your town fight off an inevitable loss, or you can follow me. I will not run from you, Uriel. If you want your chance to defeat me, you know where to find me. It ends tonight, Uriel. Make your choice." The Phantom looked back for a moment, but then rose up into the darkened sky, spread his cloaked arms outward, and soared away into the night.

The Hermit only hesitated a moment. He quickly instructed the town to rise up and defend themselves. He told them he would return shortly, and that they need not fear the Phantom's return. Once everything was ready, the Hermit dashed off into the forest, preparing his venture to the top of the mountain.

It took a long time to journey through the heart of the forest and then begin his ascent up the towering mountain. He did not know why the Phantom did not propose to finish their battle right there in the town. Perhaps he was setting up a trap. Perhaps at this very moment, an ambush was prepared to spring at him from behind.

But the Phantom was not like that. He valued his honesty and integrity in battle, even though he used his vast power for evil deeds. He was such a frustrating opponent; he always spoke eloquently and softly, as if every word were true.

After a long and perilous journey, the Hermit finally reached the top of the mountain, and now stood before a dark and foreboding cave. Something came from the mouth of the cave and floated into the air, dripping in water.

"Finally," the Phantom said, "you have arrived. Can you finally taste your defeat? The cheers of your villagers do not exist here to push you forward –only the muffled cries of the fallen and defeated. Prepare for the end, Uriel."

The Phantom raised his wand into the air. In turn, the Hermit quickly unsheathed the Four Sword and allowed the moonlight to reflect its blade. He closed his eyes and shut out the world. Soon his body split in four, and the Four Sword gave him a new might. The sky lit up in a web of lightning for a moment, only to go black again.

The Hermit instructed his four selves to attack the Phantom head on. The ghoul quickly sent out spell after spell, and some landed near the four Uriels. They came closer, and the Phantom was forced to take out a blade of his own to defend himself. They fought for hours, the tide of the battle turning every minute. Blows were exchanged between them, but they were never enough to change the course of the battle for long.

Uriel tried his best to hold his own, but even when victory looked reachable for him, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. The omniscient darkness encircling him told him that he could never win –that as long as the shadows kept the light at bay, victory was but a shallow dream.

Soon three of his selves fell to the floor in a pool of blood, and only one remained. Uriel fought viciously to change the direction of the battle, but the Phantom's combination of magic and sword strokes was just too much for him.

He could not retain his severed form for much longer. Soon he lost his grip on his perception, and his four selves combined into one. He cowered at the edge of the mountain cliff, holding the Four Sword up as a hopeless deterrent from defeat. The Phantom came closer and pointed his wand at him.

Streaming ribbons of light released from the wand and came hurtling towards the Hermit. The light sifted through the Four Sword, and it dropped from Uriel's hands and bounced to the ground. Uriel held out his right arm as a last ditch effort, but the light just ripped through him. Pangs of agony flowed through his body, and Uriel felt his mangled arm rip away from his body, severing like his four selves had been. Uriel clutched the stump where his arm had been and felt the red blood flowing like a river. He saw the Phantom rise above him.

"I have reduced you to nothing. Fighting any longer is useless. I will not kill you here, Uriel. I will spare your life, but you will live the rest of your days as a defeated man. And that is the ultimate loss." Uriel watched as the Phantom rose into the sky and floated away. Screaming and clutching the emptiness where his arm had been, Uriel crawled over to the Four Sword. He saw that there were four slots where four stones should have been. Metal had once covered them over, but something revealed them once more. But now one of the stones –the red one- was missing. Uriel looked down and realized that it had bounced away into the forest under him.

Uriel rolled over onto his back, still clutching his wound, and cried out into the unforgiving sky above. He had lost three things that day. The first was his arm, which had given him power and might; the second was the Fire Ruby, which had given him wisdom and the knowledge of his skills; and the third was his pride, which had given him courage and the desire to fight. Now they were all gone, and he was left with nothing but a desolate black hole of loss and sorrow.