Author's Note: Well, here we are! Not much to say here since you probably just want to get into this, but I recommend listening to Chaos Vortex from Kid Icarus: Uprising (around 2:45) and Scorched Feathers from KI: U too! Either way, there's nothing left to say other than enjoy!

Favourites & Follows: Thank-you very much to "Patriot 71" and "hackeline83" for favouriting this story and following this story too. I love you all!

"Sometimes I wonder if love is worth fighting for, but then I remember your face and I'm ready for war."

~Unknown~

Ancient Roots

A Skyward Sword FanFiction

Chapter 45: Discidium

It's strange how the world around me can seem to be moving so fast when I feel frozen in place.

Around me Impaz is tending to Groose whilst Karane helps to bring Pipit around, but I'm too lost in the torrent of my own mind to go and help any of them. Their hushed tones barely reach my ears as I huddle my body close to me, Ghirahim's final words to me booming through my mind as I press my head into my knees—tears running down my cold, pale cheeks as I think about what I've done.

"What a wonderful birthday you've made for your lover. I'm sure Father would be proud."

I failed him.

And I have no idea if I can save him.

My eyes fall onto the broken Timeshift Stone a few paces away, longing for Link's presence and voice at the back of my mind. I jump out of my skin with an audible gasp when a hand gently touches my shoulder, the familiar face of the priestess looking down at me with concern.

"At ease, Zelda," she soothes. "Groose needs your aid."

I nod numbly and push myself onto my feet, wiping away my tears as I stumble over to him. He's trying his best to hide his pain from me as his puts pressure on his thigh, though it's clear to see that he's in agony. He forces a smile, but that alone is enough to make me upset all over again.

This is all my fault…

Holding one hand above his injury, I hoarsely call forth the healing spell and close up the deep cut. Groose moves his hand for me to do my work, visibly relaxing when the wound scars over after a few moments. He'll be fine now that the bleeding's stopped, but it doesn't stop the guilt coursing through me as I shuffle away from him.

"And to think you believed that you had won…"

I did, and that was my greatest downfall.

And now no one will be the same ever again.

With Pipit now awake and aware of what's happened, makes his way towards me with Karane at his side and kneels next to me. His body is shaking from the rage he's trying to quell, swallowing thickly when he notices my eyes well up with tears again. Pipit gathers me up and holds me close, murmuring in my ear, "We'll save him together Zelda—I promise. He's the only family I think I have left."

His words only fill my gut with more anxiety.

I pull away and shake my head furiously, my hands trembling as I shuffle away from them and stand—searching around for the Master Sword and my Harp. Karane follows me as I go, reaching out for me gently and turning me around slowly. "He's right, Zelda," she seconds. "Link's our friend too. We aren't going to leave you to do this on your own."

I silently shake my head again and take up my things.

Their hope hasn't died yet like mine has.

"Zelda, going after him alone is—"

"The only way," I finally say, cutting off Groose before he can tell me to bring them all with me. "Everything I've done up until now… it's was all for nothing. I could have saved this world, but I've doomed it. This is all my fault, and it's up to me to fix it. As the Goddess Reborn, this is my task and mine alone."

The others go to object, only for Impaz to nod and pull a bottle out of her robes, a small orb of light inside. "I expected as much, and I know that there will be no changing your mind." She hands me the bottle. "This is a fairy—they have the ability to heal the heavily injured, and some say they can bring back the dead. In the face of this battle, I feel that it would be safer in your hands."

I nod without smiling. "Thank you, Impaz."

The others watch me, clearly desperate to join me, however Impaz turns to them and firmly explains, "As much as it may pain you, you must understand that this is a battle that Zelda must face alone as the Goddess Reborn—having too many beside her could tip the scales away from our favour."

"There's no time to think about this," I step in before anyone else can speak up. "I can't stay here any longer." Forcing a smile to them, I grip the Master Sword tightly and nod to them. "I'll bring him back."

You didn't promise them that you would, a dark voice mutters.

I can't…

Without saying another word, I spin on my heel and hide my tears from them as I rush towards the Gate of Time, allowing myself to be consumed by the flow of time—I just keep running until I reach the Temple of Hylia.

By the time I emerge back in the Temple of Hylia, there's a chill in the air and the sun doesn't come in through the cracks in the roof. My eyes widen as I spot a trail of blood on the ground leading up to Impa, who lies on the steps clutching her stomach tightly, her crimson eyes locking onto mine as I run towards her.

I can't lose anyone else.

"Impa!" I cry, kneeling before her and bringing forth my healing spell. Pink particles of light surround her and heal the wound as best as I can, and she turns her head down to her shrinking injury with a sigh of relief.

But there's no time to thank me.

Her crimson eyes flutter up to mine and she reaches forward to grab my arm tightly, eyes shining with pain and resolve. "Your Grace... it's Ghirahim..." I try to quieten her, knowing what's happened, yet she simply shakes her head. "I had little power against his. He has grown... far too strong against even me. We must chase after him!"

"I know," I murmur mournfully. "I know, and I will. I'm going after him now, but you need to stay here and recover. If the tides turn against us, there'll be hordes of monsters after the Gate of Time before long." I clutch the Sheikah's arm tightly. "Please, Impa. I'll go after Link."

She shakes her head again lightly, pushing against me and onto her feet before I can protest. "As his mentor, I intend to see this until the very end. Whatever my fate will be, I will fulfil my duty by protecting you and the boy no matter what."

I lower my head. I didn't want to bring the others with me and put them in more danger but having the Sheikah with me will be a comfort—she fought in the Great War, after all, and knows how to handle herself in these sorts of situations. And besides, she won't back down from this without a fight.

Calling out for Fi, I ask for her advice. "I sense the presence of dark magic outside the Temple of Hylia where the Demon Lord intends to conduct his sacrificial ritual. In order to prevent the ritual's completion, you must defeat him as soon as possible. I recommend using the Sheikah's abilities as well as my own as your other companions had a high chance of committing reckless actions."

I nod and thank her before turning to Impa. "Do you have any weapons?"

In response, Impa crosses over to an alcove beside the steps leading up to the back room of the Temple. Resting on the steps a few feet away from where I had found her lies a thin naginata—a weapon commonly used within the Sheikah race, the only group who have mastered using it. The main pole is deep blue with two orange balls attached to it. The base of the pole is plated with gold, very much like the large hilt around the thin, razor sharp blade.

I raise my brow in surprise at the magnificent weapon as she holds it behind her back, the blade pointing towards the ground. She nods and returns to my side. "I'm ready, Your Grace. It's time for us to end this." I glance over to the double doors full of nerves. "You will be fine, Your Grace."

"Zelda." She raises a brow, confused. "I may be the Goddess Reborn, but I'm still Zelda."

She rests a hand on my shoulder. "Of course, Zelda. But now is the time for action. No matter what has come before this moment, all that matters now is ending this ritual before calamity ensues. Do not allow the past to consume you, is that clear?"

I gulp and nod. "I won't, Impa."

"Good," she muses, then nods towards the doors behind us. "Now let us wash our hands of this once and for all."

~Interlude~

It's strange to Link how the world around him seemed to be moving so fast when he felt frozen in place. His heart may have been pounding against his chest, but his mind was empty and his breathing shallow. As he stared up at the darkening skies above him, he almost didn't believe where he was.

But he'd dreamt of this happening, and deep down, he knew that he would have to fight one last time.

Day after day Impa had trained him for this very moment, and yet it felt so surreal to be there. He was so close to freedom, so close to the peace that he'd fought so hard for, and then it all changed and it was ripped out of his hands so easily. Now he had to fight for that freedom and peace again, and he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

And if all else failed, he still had that spell.

He had mentioned the spell to Zelda but had assured her that he wouldn't use it unless he had to—but with everything that had happened, he wasn't so sure if he could keep that promise.

'Link I—' That was the last thing she's said to him before her Timeshift Stone was crushed and he made the mistake of allowing his emotions get the better of him. He would never forget the pain of that sword sliding through his body, and even more so the guilt that came with it.

He'd failed her.

Her face shone in his mind's eye, the girl he had loved for so very long now. He knew that she was coming for him—as Hylia and as his Zelda, he knew that she had to come. But he had to give her every second that he could, and that meant fighting through all of the pain and fatigue running through him. He thought back to what Impa once said to him.

"So keep fighting, Link, despite the odds, despite the fear, despite the Discidium. But fight for yourself too. You have a right to live as much as Zelda does, as much as anyone else does."

And she was right. Despite everything, he had to fight for his own life just as much as the lives of everyone else too.

He owed it to himself and the first Bearer.

For so long he cursed his destiny and questioned why he had been chosen to endure all of this, but none of that mattered anymore. Because of his destiny, he found a true strength in him that he never knew he had. Because of his destiny, he realised just how precious life truly was.

And with all of his preparation for the ritual, he was going to fight to fulfil his destiny whilst he still drew breath—fighting alone once again.

He had been on his own for thousands of years inside that crystal, and now he was on his own again. He may not be completely alone, but he sure felt like it as he gazed up to the grey skies above—paralysed by dark magic. Unsure of how long he had been there, he knew that it wouldn't be long before the ritual began; and with it his suffering.

Maybe even his death.

No, he couldn't think like that. He had to focus on giving everyone the time they needed to stop Demise's revival. There wasn't much that he could do, but he'd still do everything possible to keep everyone safe.

He prayed for everyone's safety, prayed for them to live even if he did fall, prayed for them to survive this mess. He prayed for Impa, who had been savagely attacked by Ghirahim after they had travelled through the Gate of Time. Although he may not have been conscious for long, she fought so hard—he hoped with everything in him that she wouldn't die.

And even if he did survive this like he hoped everyone else would, he would never think about his birthday the same way ever again.

He wished that he had the Timeshift Stone again to tell Zelda that it was going to be alright. Flashes of her grief-stricken face appeared in his mind, and as much as he tried to focus on the better times, nothing would take that image away from his mind. All he wanted to do was tell her not to cry—he didn't like it when she cried.

She'd cried too much in this life.

That was another reason to fight—to protect her smile, the one he longed to see again. He had to fight for Impa, who had fought for and with him every step of the way. He had to fight for Impaz, who had rescued him in the first moments that he spent on the Surface assailed by monsters. He had to fight for the people of Skyloft, those who were and weren't there anymore, knowing that their pain was because of him. He had to fight for his friends who had worked so hard to protect him no matter what the cost was, and fight for his Zelda too—his rock, his strength, and his everything.

And he had to fight for the first Bearer, who believed in him despite all of his failures and longed for peace.

"Now go and do not falter, my child!"

He wouldn't.

With the strength of those he loved in the back of his mind, the Demon Lord finally took away his consciousness and his true battle begun—the fight of his life.

He wouldn't fail again.

~Zelda~

My heart pounds against my ribs as we emerge outside the Temple of Hylia, and I can already sense the darkness around us. I allow Hylia to take over for a moment and quell whatever fears Zelda has, but she's just as nervous—knowing that the newest Bearer is going to suffer no matter how long the ritual goes on for, seeing the spell used on others during the Great War.

It was a horrific sight.

And to see Hylia's Champion and Zelda's Link about to endure that is enough to send us both over the edge.

The skies have already blotted out the late morning sun, bundles of dark grey clouds waiting for the ritual to begin so the rain can start to pour. Tall treetops extend for miles on end, but even they seem as if they're beginning to wilt from the power radiating out from the pit below. The spiralling pit before us has been reinforced with stone walls in some parts which much have eroded away by the time I came to the Surface, especially towards the base of the pit where carvings of the Goddess sending the chunk of land into the sky is depicted just like in the present.

Stopping at the edge of the pathway, I stare down into the pit below with Fi and Impa on either of my sides. My heart breaks at the sight of a magic square around the Seal at the bottom of the pit, torches around it held together by purple ropes however knocked aside carelessly and their flames extinguished, leaving the ritual's sacrifice to be dumped over the Seal. Even though it seems darker down there, I can see he's already unconscious and clearly affected by the darkness around him or by his resistance to the ritual before it's even started.

"We have a date with destiny, boy. We better not keep her waiting."

I shudder at the memory.

I can't just stand here, I growl internally. I can't let his go on.

As I'm about to start running, Impa takes my arm and stops me, her eyes not leaving the base of the pit.

There's so much darkness that I can barely see, though I strain to spot a figure emerging from the shadows. Unmasked by the darkness, Ghirahim appears and stalks around Link like a hunter near its prey, eyes glittering hungrily as he knows that he can finally fulfil his own destiny—one he's been building up to for so long now. He seems almost captivated by the sight of everything falling into place, and I stop myself from struggling free from the Sheikah as the Demon Lord finally makes a move.

He stops next to Link and raises his hand over the newest Bearer, creating an instant reaction to the latter's Soul—golden light breaking free and dancing around the two of them. The Seal holding back the Demon King glows an ominous crimson, flames of darkness fanning outward. Masses of shadows begin to stain the ground beneath them, bubbles of blackness fighting with the golden light. In reaction to the ritual being begun, nature shifts drastically, causing the clouds darken further and lighting to flash above.

Wherever the shadowy ink blots fall, the earth around it withers and dies. The shadows plague the pathway from the base of the pit going up until it reaches us, eating away at the walls too as they consume this place.

Impa lets me go, and I take my chance to take a flying leap into the pit—intent on reaching Ghirahim as fast as possible.

But I collide with a wall of magic, a protective wall taller than me shimmering around the edges of the spiralling pathway before disappearing once more.

I grit my teeth and grunt in anger.

Without another word, I tighten my grip on the Master Sword and my Harp and start down the path.

"Rise my underlings!" Ghirahim commands, his voice booming around the area. I turn my mind away from him and focus on my footsteps, keeping my eyes on the road ahead instead of his words—my gut twisting when the golden light glows brighter. "The Discidium has commenced, and you will keep those who defy me from interfering!"

Fi and Impa fall into step we me, not faltering when Bokoblins soon appear out of thin air and hordes of them race towards us with impeccable speed; their sickly green eyes burning with malice. Memories of Hylia fighting in the Great War flash through my mind as we meet them head on, the force of them stopping me for a moment before I yell out and force them back, swinging the Master Sword with cries of emotion.

"We should have seen this coming!" Impa grunts as she spears a Bokoblin with her naginata.

"It's his last stand," I yell back, tearing the Master Sword through a Bokoblin's stomach, the blade responding with a sweet sound as the blood slides off its magnificent surface. "This is his last fight, and either he falls, or we do!"

Fi dances through the group of enemies as we charge onward, her duel rapiers shining in the dazzling light of the lightning. "I concur; however, I sense a..." She pauses for a moment, then, "I sense that these monsters have been bestowed with extra power by the Demon Lord. I believe that he is splitting his power between the Discidium and his forces."

With a yell, Impa roars out a spell that sends a bout of flames dancing down the path whilst I defeat a Bokoblin behind Fi. "I must admit, he has this all figured out, but there must be a way to stop him!"

The next wave of monsters that comes to us is a large horde Bokoblins followed by a group of Moblins carrying huge spears and shields. As they surround us, I let Impa use her spells again so I can save mine for the battle ahead. Fi stabs harshly into the ground with her two rapiers, creating a beam of light that towers heavenward and destroys the first line of enemies instantly.

"Mistress, while the Demon Lord boasts of his strength, he will not be able to complete the Discidium without a substantial amount of power," Fi calls out to me as she defends me from a strike from a Moblin behind me. "However, I calculate that waiting for his strength to dwindle would have a low chance of success. Reaching the Demon Lord as fast as possible would be more—"

A burst of dazzling golden light twirls from out of the base of the pit, and even though I have no time to look in that direction, Ghirahim's yell of frustration is enough for me to understand what's happening. Despite his weakened form, Link told me about his training for this ritual and, despite his fears, knows that he can fight it for a while at the very least.

I'm coming, sleepyhead. I'm coming…

"You dare defy me in the face of death, boy?!" The Demon Lord almost screeches. "You—"

He cuts himself off with fury.

I can't help but smile at Link's strength.

I dodge out of the way of a Moblin's spear as Fi darts towards me and stabs the monster in the back—the latter moaning as it tumbles to the ground.

"They're bother getting weaker," Impa warns. "We must strike now!"

Every step I take is another moment off Link's life, and we're not even close to the bottom of the pit—it'll take too long to run there and there's no way to jump down.

Then I see something.

Another Moblin thrusts its spear towards me, raising its shield so much that it becomes horizontal with the ground. As Fi protects me from another attack, a reckless and stupid plan enters my mind that may be our only chance of ending quickly just like we need to.

The Moblin's shield…

"I have a plan!" I shout over to them, rushing the Bokoblins behind Impa as we try to carry onward. "But I have to go on alone!"

Droplets of ran begin to fall like tears from the Goddesses, mourning our three-person army against all these monsters. "I assume this plan will somehow include something reckless," Impa comments as she protects Fi from a group of Moblins ready to assail her. Fi surveys the battlefield as I nod to Impa. "If it gets you down there faster, then we'll hold the monsters back for you."

At first, I'm surprised at how easily she lets me go, but when I think about where we are, I realise how little time we have for reason and details.

Rain dribbles across Fi's body as she seconds Impa with a firm nod, spinning around to attack another Moblin.

I slam the Master Sword into its sheathe and begin to herd it away from the other monsters, praying that this plan works. The large creature begins to plod over to me, spear and shield at the ready. Creating a shield around the two of us so I'm not distracted by the other creatures, the Moblin eyes me up and notices that I'm defenceless—flashing me a toothy grin at its chance to defeat me.

I glance over my shoulder over and over to make sure that the barrier around the edge of the pit is close enough to me; holding myself back from looking down to Link and Ghirahim in fear of losing what calm I've somehow managed to find. As the Moblin snorts at me and tightens its grip around its spear and readies itself to attack, I take a shallow breath and pray to the Goddesses.

Farore, give me your courage. Nayru, give me your wisdom. Din, give me your power. And Hylia, give me all the time you can spare. Please…

For a moment, it feels as if time slows down.

The Moblin thrusts its spear forwards, intent fizzing in its eyes. I watch it with a calm resolve, bending my knees and hoping that this works. My eyes flutter open from my prayer and I allow Hylia to take over for a moment and intervene. My mind goes blank as I shift from a crouch and leap into the air a mere fraction of a second before the creature's spear can harm me. Stretching one leg forwards, I land against the Moblin's shield and a wave of courage washes over my body as my other leg joins me.

Now or never…

I push my body downward to gain some extra momentum before jumping from the shield, tugging out my Sailcloth as my body is thrown upwards. Flying backwards, I'm glad that the shield around the pit is only so high as I soar above it and then down onto the next level, my fingers tightening around the edges of my Sailcloth as I descend.

I land against the earth with a stumble but manage to stay standing. Turning my head up to where I once was, I breathe heavily to catch my breath and thank the Goddesses for my plan actually working. With one less level out of the way and Ghirahim none the wiser of my location, I'm now free to run the rest of the way down to the base of the pit without any other distractions.

Sending a prayer for Impa and Fi, I tuck away my Sailcloth and take out the Master Sword.

I run.

With my heart pounding in my ears and hammering against my, I grunt and pick up my pace, the golden light swirling out from the bottom of the pit fuelling my speed. My blood pumps wildly through my veins, my mind buzzing with emotions and memories from two lives. I imagine Link's face and smile in my mind, tears threatening to fall again as I grit my teeth.

I will protect that smile.

He will live in peace.

And all that stands in the way of that is one person.

"You're rather quick, Your Grace," Ghirahim muses without looking up at me, his hands still above Link, who hovers in the air with his back bent backwards abnormally. I narrow my eyes at the Demon Lord, adjusting my grip on the Master Sword. "You should know that spells like this take time and a steady—"

"I don't have time for your words, Ghirahim," I snap, effectively cutting him off. "I'm not here to listen to you or play your games. I'm here to strike you down as I should have done the first time I saw you."

He smirks. "I could say the same about you, Your Grace."

"The past is what brought us together," I say after a moment, ignoring his comment. It breaks my heart to be so close to Link and unable to do anything until I've dealt with his captor. "Because of the past, you are filled with revenge and have the blood of hundreds, maybe even thousands, on your hands. But when I strike you down, there will be nothing left of you and your precious Master but your blood on the ground."

He hisses in irritation. "I've waited my whole existence for this moment, and I refuse to let you ruin it with your babbling!"

"You're already losing," I say sternly. "Wasting your power on fortifying your troops and fighting against a man who has spent his days preparing for this moment is only the start of your downfall." My words seem to aggravate him further, but I can't stop myself before I add, "You're becoming a shell of your former self, and by the end of this day, everything you've taken away from me will be paid back in your blood."

With a flick of my wrist, I hold the Master Sword at his throat.

He doesn't even flinch, he simply meets my eyes evenly.

"You're so desperate to hold power over anyone that you forget who pulls the strings," he says simply, jerking his hand upward so sharply that Link bites back a cry—another wave of golden energy surrounding the three of us. My gut twists, and it takes all of me not to reach out and touch him.

"And you're so desperate to torture an innocent man that your rage will be your downfall," I spit back, hoping that I keep the cracks out of my voice at the sight of Link suffering.

"Innocent?" Ghirahim almost laughs, holding back a scoff at my comment. "How many lives has he taken? How many of my minions has he slain? They may not be human, but it doesn't mean that he isn't a murderer. Don't speak of innocence here, Your Grace—it doesn't exist."

The hand holding the Master Sword falters for a moment, and we both see it. Ghirahim chuckles as I drop the sword back to my side, the corner of my lip twisting down into a frown as I take a deep breath—I have one task, and I can't lose track of that.

"I will not stop until I end this ritual," I resolve. "No matter how much you choose to defy me, you will not steal away another life in the name of your Master! You're a mere puppet for the Demon King, and I won't stop until your games come to an end once and for all!"

"I believe that there's only one puppet here," he mutters, nodding down to the person between us.

"You're wrong, Ghirahim," I snarl. "Fight me and let us end this!"

His eyes darken and narrow into thin slits. Then, with a yell that almost makes me jump, he throws Link into the air with a burst of angry magic—separating us completely before I can stop him. He floats high above the top of the pit, so far up that if he fell that he'd die if I didn't catch him.

Now's not the time for fear.

I turn my head back down to the Demon Lord.

Now's the time for action.

"Well if you're so intent on digging your grave then I'll be more than happy to aid you!" He growls, his eyes shining with a fiery anger. "First, I'll beat you down to a bloody pulp, then I'll murder your lover and resurrect my Master in his full glory! The last thing you'll see is the world you swore to protect withering away!"

I swallow thickly but stand firm and hold my ground. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I brace myself for the worst; I can't back away now, not with so much on the line. Glancing up to Link, I grit my teeth. "Battle me and let's see how destiny wants to end this."

Neither of us hesitate.

The Demon Lord draws his blade out of thin air and rushes me. Narrowing my eyes, I grasp my Harp tightly and take the full brunt of the attack. As we clash, Ghirahim leans in close. "How many times have we fought now, Your Grace? Five times? Maybe more?" He chuckles. "It's all a blur of blood, isn't it? And what about that game we played once, hm?"

I immediately recall his words when he met with Karane and I outside Skyview Temple. "Fine, I guess I'll suggest the game then. How about, "Find the Spirited One"?"

"You might have found him, but that doesn't mean you won't take him away from me," I snap.

He grins and parries me, knocking me back a pace. "What a poor choice of words, Your Grace, considering where he is." His words send a flood of anger through me, and I fly at him. The Demon Lord laughs in my face and murmurs in a low tone, "Don't forget who pulls the Threads of Fate here, my dear…"

Without warning, Ghirahim knocks me back and raises his hand into the air before charging me once again. I have no time to react to what he's done as I parry him, though in the top of my vision dark tendrils shot towards Link and wrap around his body like thick vines, eliciting a sharp cry from Link that he can't contain—ripping straight through my heart.

"Stop toying with him like this!" I scream at him. "This isn't his fault! Stop forcing him to suffer like it is!"

Ghirahim smiles broadly, "You speak as if you have not brought about his suffering."

I glare at him but say nothing, knowing that he's right.

And yet, he doesn't even take the time to revel in his victory.

Rather than that, Ghirahim takes a few steps backwards so he stands above the Seal holding back his Master—still glowing crimson in the light from the lightning strikes. His blade dissolves into the air, worrying me as he protects himself with a shield of diamonds to prevent me from attacking him. I grow even more nervous when he drops into a deep crouch.

"The Discidium has reached far enough for me to call upon you, Master!" He proclaims, closing his eyes and bowing his head. "Aid me in order to slay this pathetic whelp of a mortal so that I can finally resurrect you!"

The Seal becomes awash with dark fire that rises into the air around the Demon Lord before engulfing him in its heat. I take a hesitant step backward as panic courses through my veins, wishing that I could stop him as the flames continue to fan around him; dark grey diamonds starting to emerge from them too.

Once they die down, my stomach drops.

Ghirahim's garments, including his mantle, have all but faded from sight, revealing his dark skin etched with thousands of tiny diamonds—the Threads of Fate—and his ruby still lodged in his chest. His blank white pupils stare down at the ground unblinking, his white hair styled slightly like Fi's. As he raises his head, his eyes shimmer from the embers around him and he draws himself onto his feet.

Covered in diamonds, it's as if he's gone insane with the idea of the Threads of Fate.

For a moment, I struggle to breathe, though I have no time before he draws a serrated broadsword encrusted with rubies and the Demon Lord begins to advance on me. His footsteps sound metallic as he stalks towards me, his grin feral as he reaches out and snatches me by the neck.

I cry out as my vision goes black.

My eyes suddenly snap open as my feet connect with something solid, and I gasp at the sight beneath me.

Ghirahim's magic has transported us high above the base of the pit, our only safety net being a small carpet of diamonds that follow our footsteps. Raising my head, my eyes soften at the sight of Link only a number of feet above the two of us, and it only fuels my desire to end this once and for all; those dark vines still draining his energy.

"You should have scurried away from this long ago, Your Grace," he mutters. "But you just kept coming back again and again and again. You've made a fool of me for the last time!"

"If you wanted to scare me, then you've clearly failed." I say as Ghirahim runs towards me and shoves his broadsword against mine, gritting my teeth tighter at his strength. "Using your Master's power to take care of me will be a wasted effort. I will never stand down until I win!"

Lost in a fury, the Demon Lord yells a battle cry and parries me away before slashing away at me furiously. I stagger backwards with every strike, and I can feel me starting to spiral back down through the air, but I can barely think about it with Ghirahim's constant attacks. I dance out of the way of another attack and strike back, though he blocks it effortlessly without losing any shred of anger.

But when he finally draws away, I see an opening.

Without anymore hesitation, I thrust the Master Sword forward.

There's a beat of silence.

Then he starts to laugh.

I crack my eyes open to find the Master Sword merely wedged into his abdomen by a few inches, his thick metallic skin saving him from an early demise. I watch as his smirk grows into a feral grin as he tugs himself free and claims his chance while I'm stunned to slash his broadsword across my chest.

I cry out and clutch at the wound, the rain beginning to pick up more as he moves in for another attack. Thankfully, I manage to block the attack and push him back, but the shock of the wound on my chest makes me drop my Harp—the golden instrument falling down into the pit below us, and with it my main line of defence.

With a grunt, I shove the Master Sword forwards to greet his next attack, having no time to heal myself before I have to guard against his next bout of attacks; my breath drawn out in ragged gasps. We continue to spiral back down through the air, but all I can focus on is trying to hold him back as much as I can, preparing myself to strike when I finally touch the ground again.

In the face of Father's murderer, I take a flying leap forwards and throw everything that I have at the Demon Lord. By the time he is backed up into a corner, I bring my sword down one final time and bury the Master Sword into his gemstone, sending thick cracks along its once pristine surface.

He falls to the floor in a heap.

A sudden wave of fatigue hits me, and so I take a step away from Ghirahim and drop the Master Sword so I can heal my chest wound.

Only I try to.

Before I can, the Demon Lord snatches me up and tosses me into the air.

I hit the middle of the Seal's markings, though I have no time to recover before Ghirahim throws himself onto me and holds me down with abnormal strength.

"You fought well enough, but your destiny was to be struck down in the end," he muses, replacing his broadsword with a knife instead. Anger floods into my system, but I can't struggle free. He caresses my face and holds the flat side of his blade beside my eye. "Savour this, Your Grace, for the world collapsing around you will be the last thing I let you see."

My breathing picks up, and I struggle to calm it as I focus on freeing myself from his grip; clenching my fists tightly.

Above me, Link cries out in agony.

Fear slams into me and tears through my heart.

I have to save him…

Grunting, I raise my hand and shove it against Ghirahim's neck and growl, "You'll never touch me or him." I pause, then, "Occido!"

With a screech the Demon Lord is thrown backwards, giving me the time to stand and collect the Master Sword and my Harp, racing towards Ghirahim and holding out my blade to him.

"You…"

"It's over, Ghirahim," I say firmly. "Submit and end this!"

"How…" Ghirahim breathes, clutching his chest whilst the burns from my spell claw across his neck—a strange black liquid, denser than blood, trickling down his chest. "This is preposterous! I bring you to your knees, and yet you somehow prevail. What sorcery is this?!"

"It's the power of the Goddesses, Ghirahim," I retort. "You can't defeat us. By spending your energy on your troops, you're too weak to finish the Discidium. If you end this now then I may consider giving you a quick death."

He goes silent for a while, as if thinking about how to word what he's about to say. When he does, he only spouts out bout of confusion.

"Hm," he muses with a chuckle. A bead of sweat or blood trickles down my back as I stare him down. "I suppose it was better to keep such an adversary alive for the main event after all."

I narrow my eyes and force him to look at me with the Master Sword. "What are you talking about?"

He smiles slyly, sending my blood cold. I allow him to stand, hissing in pain as the Seal behind us glows ominously—red light reflecting off his body. "Oh, Your Grace, you simply never learn…"

"Explain yourself!"

He chuckles lightly, grinning at my confusion. "Did you really believe that I would be so much of a fool to drain all of my energy to defeat you and to risk my moment of finishing the ritual?" All colour drains from my face. "Did you really think that I would—?"

"You're wrong!" I cry. "You were strengthening your forces and—"

Then it hits me.

When the Demon Lord transformed into his stronger form, Demise would have restored any power he spent on strengthening his troops; allowing him to be strong enough to complete the ritual.

No… no!

Ghirahim laughs when he sees the realisation clear on my face. "Oh, Your Grace, how deranged can you be? Claiming to love a boy who you are about to murder and allowing hundreds of innocent lives to die only for your supposed perfect plan to break apart before it even begins! How sickening can such a "divine" and "celestial" being be? It's pathetic!"

"You've been defeated, Ghirahim!" I yell. "End the ritual now!"

But as quickly as I injured him, he drags his fingers over his wounds, and they are instantly healed.

Goddesses above…

"Y-You're lying," I stammer. "The Demon King will never—!"

I never get to finish.

Without warning, my vision becomes awash with darkness when an explosion of charcoal coloured flames fanned by dark grey smoke rise from the Seal behind us. I spin around in fear and hold up my Harp, my cry cut short when I choke on the smoke. The dark flames come together to create a mass of inky blackness, and as I reach forwards in a vague attempt to stop it from finding Link, Ghirahim appears in a flash of diamonds and holds me close to him in an iron grip, chuckling in my ear.

"No…" I breathe, struggling furiously. "No!"

"You are about to lose everything, Your Grace, and it's not just the boy that I'm speaking about."

The Trial…

His words from the Trial of Wisdom were yet another premonition.

The realisation sends my legs out from under me, though the Demon Lord holds me firmly in place and tightly grips my face, forcing me to focus on Link as the darkness scours for him relentlessly.

I couldn't stop the ritual.

I promised Link that I would save him.

But I didn't.

Now he's going to die because of my failure.

And there's nothing I can do to stop it—all I can do is watch.

I'm soon too paralysed by fear to struggle in Ghirahim's grasp, praying over and over in my mind for something to prevent this from happening.

But it wasn't up to someone else to stop it.

It was up to me.

And now I have to watch as Link pays the price for my failure.

I cry out for Link as the shadows crawl towards him, submerging him in its darkness and dragging out ever scrap of his Soul as painfully as it can. Link tries his hardest to be strong, but soon enough he can't hold back as the pain becomes too much. He screams and thrashes about in the air, howling in agony as golden particles of light are snuffed out by the darkness.

Once the inky shadows retreat from Link, he's left completely limp in the air, soundless as the Seal reacts to his presence. Ghirahim hisses in my ear at something I don't understand, though I can't speak as the Demon Lord roughly shoves me onto my knees and abandons me.

Slumping against the ground, I sob and scream with grief.

He soon recovers and his mechanical laughter booms around the pit when the earth cracks wide, and with it The Imprisoned tears free from the fissure and raises its head, rows of bloody teeth glowing in the golden light of Link's spirit. With a blood curdling roar, The Imprisoned sends forth a burst of dark magic that drags Link's spirit into its gaping mouth, a river of gold consumed in moments.

"Don't you see, Your Grace?!" Ghirahim mocks triumphantly over the din. "You never had a chance! You and your pathetic kind have all lost, and all will be subjugated by my Master by the end of this day!"

I hope he chokes on his laughter.

The rain pours over me like the Gods are spitting on me, and I wince as Demise's aura grows in strength. "Do something!" I sob. "Please, you have to save him! I can't… I can't…!"

My voice breaks before I can finish, and only moments later am I thrown backwards into the wall when The Imprisoned reacts to the Soul he's consume, sending out pulses of darkness. I groan as I slam against the wall and fall limp against the wet earth, tears streaming down my face as I tilt my head skywards to the figure high above us.

The same figure who, without Ghirahim's magic to hold him there, begins to fall.

I scream in terror and bolt onto my feet, too weak to use my magic and save him. Unable to watch him fall to his doom, I flinch at the beast's roar of triumph as Link tumbles through the air towards me. With tears obscuring my vision, I hold my arms out and pray that I catch him.

And, as if by a miracle of the Goddesses themselves, he falls into my arms.

I collapse to the ground from the shock of the fall, taking a moment to regain my bearings, shielding my eyes from the tornado of fire and darkness surrounding the Demon Lord and The Imprisoned. Opening my eyes, I choke out a sob at the person in my lap—his skin pale and his lips parted from his constant screaming of pain.

I grab his face with shaky hands, a new wave of emotion flooding out of me—he feels so small in my arms. I sob loudly, unable to get many words out as I rest my forehead against his. "I'm so s-sorry," I whisper, my voice cracking even on those few words. "I'm so sorry, Link… please… p-please wake up…"

But he doesn't.

My hand runs down to his chest, denying that he's heart is no longer beating.

That's when I feel it.

My breath hitches, and for a moment I'm not sure if I imagined it. Unsure, I press my fingers against his neck.

I still feel it—it may be weak, but he still has a pulse.

"If ninety percent of his Soul is sacrificed to Demise, then he will be lost in a perpetual sleep."

I force myself to reach out for his neck—a wave of tears breaking free when his pulse weakly beats against my fingers.

He's still alive… but he'll never wake up…

The Discidium worked, but not completely—but does it even matter? Link will never wake up again, he'll never be freed from this eternal sleep and I have maybe hours left of my own life before the Demon King rises and destroys this world for good and claims the Triforce for his own dark designs.

None of this matters anymore.

I failed Link when he needed me most, and I can't even fix it.

So I sit there and cradle him as Hylia had done with her Champion so long ago, holding his face close to mine as The Imprisoned reacts with his sacrifice and the Demon King awakens, my voice cracking as I beg Link to wake up.

But he never will.

And it's all my fault.

Author's Note: I really wanted to get this out so please tell me if there are any improvements that could be made. Still, please drop a rate and review if you haven't all ready, and I'll see you in the next one where we find out what will happen now that Ghirahim's ritual has been completed. Be prepared!

*Discidium means "Separation" in Latin.