His screams were what brought me to him, in the beginning. His shrieking, the thrashing as he dreamed of what was surely... quite distressing. I had no clear view of what was making him wail in such a manner, though I was eager to find out. I wanted those screams to erupt further; though perhaps I wanted to cause such a noise to pass his divine lips. I spent many a night allowing myself be drawn to his bedside while his screams echoed through the realms. His voice was soft, though rather ragged at such a pitch. I found myself craving more knowledge of the weeping boy, still only a child when I first discovered this unholy spring of pain.
When I first appeared to him in the flesh, he was a mere ten years of age. Nothing compared to my thousands, and still quite immature for a beast.
"Human. You have strayed quite far from you preferred destination, yes?" Though I will not be caught outside of these writings admitting such a thing, there was a bit of magic in play to distract his feet and lead him down my path.
"What do you mean? I'm just near home." He cast a glance over his shoulder, and the shock registered on his face, replaced soon by the fear. I smiled lightly; the boy born of blood showing his emotions so openly brought quite a rush to my heart.
"Child, would you like a guiding hand back along your adventure?" I offered, my voice sounding sick with honey. He whirled quickly back to face me, and smiled bright.
"Thank you, mister. Do you know where I live?" He stepped forward, far too trusting. I tightened my cloak, my expression darkening. He was not ready yet. Far too young. Humans do tend to take their time aging their minds.
"I'm afraid not. Perhaps if you retrace your steps, you'll find that you are much closer than you imagine." I gestured behind him, allowing my spell to drop and reveal the familiar trees to his wide eyes.
When he turned to thank me, I was gone. Or rather, viewing from a higher place among the trees. He was of no use to me as a mere babe.
He didn't shout that night, nor the night after. The silence continued on for a frustrating month, until finally, as I was ready to give up on my prey, a sound exploded louder than before. His cries reached me from quite a distance, and I knew I could be there before any caretaker. Magic again played a role in his jammed door, and his inability to wake from the dreadful nightmare. I sat at the foot of his bed, the expression of pure pain etched across his young face enticing me to interfere a tad more. I deserved a moment ago be with my obsession.
I allowed my silent, though admittedly boring, spying to continue another five years.
At fifteen revolutions old, he had experienced massive amounts of trauma, and I will proudly take responsibility for the death of his beloved mother the year prior. There was no cure for the sickness that plagued her, as it was fabricated from dark magic. Still, the dreams he had grew ever silent. The older he got, the less he shouted. For three months after his mother's 'illness' had taken her, he was entirely mute. The knights from the castle had taken him from the lonely home in which he had attempted to remain hidden in, and threw him directly into battle training. He was graced with a fine instinct for sword and bow, though he rather lacked in hand to hand aspects. His room in the academy was less than pleasing, and offered little pacing area for his quieter nights; there were far too many quiet nights.
Eventually, though, he regained his voice. He found it on the battlefield, when a routine patrol had turned sour. He was nearly sixteen at this stage, and still naïve to the workings of war. His small group consisted of two other trainees like him, and four fully knighted men. The boys whose age he shared died beside him in the skirmish, as did three knights. The opposing forces fled, and his anguished wail reached them easily. The man he held in his arms, who surely would have lived if it were not for my intervention, had bled to death in his tight embrace. Naturally pleased, I took it upon myself to appear.
"My... That was quite the show, and I owe you my thanks." I made a performance, bowing to the bloodied men deeply as if to show gratitude. They saw through it.
"..." The boy rose shakily to his feet, clearly wounded, and opened his mouth to speak. The other knight stepped up, shielding him.
"We have no quarrel with the eastern realms. Why have you attacked us?" He spoke in a sturdy voice that masked his pain greatly. Not my kind of toy.
"My good man, do I look of Eastern descent?" I frowned, flicking my pale hair out of my face. My skin, of nearly equal pallor, showed none of the rich chocolate that so painted the eastern people. I smiled as confusion flashed across the men's faces. "I am just a humble passerby, who has happened to witness an act of bravery performed by these brave guards. A true pity that some were lost in a petty border skirmish."
My boy finally recognized me, stepping up past the human that guarded him.
"I remember you. You're the pale faced man from my childhood. You... Can't be real, though. I just imagined you." His voice was hoarse, and shook from misuse. He pointed an accusatory finger at me as he spoke, taking guarded steps towards me.
"No? Well, then. And perhaps you are still too young to become my plaything. Although, it may also be too late. When will you scream again, with the wicked fear that so plagued you in your childhood, my boy?" It was rhetorical, and to another sounded as the mere musings of a mad man. "Ah, but since you so insist on my lack of corporeal existence, then maybe it is far too soon. I do believe it to be time for me to take my leave, hm?" I flashed him a smile, then snapped my fingers, disappearing into a flurry of red diamonds. Rather extravagant, I do admit, though the look on his face was worth any wasted power. Again I watched from the trees, and I waited until he left the knight alone so as to fetch extra hands. They would aid in the extraction of the bodies. Until he was sufficiently distanced, I waited in the disgusting wood. It was not something I'd care to do again.
The guard did a double take when I appeared before him. No flurries of diamonds this time, no fancy tricks. I was serious now. He readied his sword, and I conjured mine.
"Do you really think it wise to cross blades with a demon?" I asked him, my voice lilting with slight amusement. He started, but held position.
"I serve queen and country. I belong to my Goddess, the divine Grace. My savior Hylia will guide my blade. I pray to goddess Din to give me the power to strike, I ask for the wisdom of goddess Nayru to guide my sword, and I beg for the courage of goddess Farore to aid my endeavor." The prayer was short, one made for battle, and quite the annoyance. When he struck, I side stepped easily, and tripped him.
"I pray to my Lord and master, on His resurrection. I beg him to turn away, as I am about to violate a sacred code of the warriors. I ask that he does not blame my sword for betraying my body. I pray to him in that he will grant me the power, wisdom, and courage that has so evaded me as I stab a weakened and beat man to death." His eyes went wide as I made a mockery of his sacred prayer. I smiled at him, pleased with the horrified reaction I received.
"Oh, who's listening anyway? I thank my Lord Demise for forging me in the flames of his hate, so that I may be here to do this now." I grinned manically as I plunged the sword down and into the frightened man's throat. The blade vanished a long second after it entered, but the damage was severe and irreversible. He drowned in his own blood, and I remained unscathed and clean.
His voice left him once again when he returned to find his slain comrade. The men he had brought with him were strong, though they did not carry weapons. Only blankets and pushcarts were traveling with them, so to carry and cover the dead. There weren't enough carts now, though, as they had not expected the death of the guard. After a moments discussion among adults, it was decided to pile him in another cart with one of the trainees. The boy sat on the side, against a tree, and stared straight ahead. His eyes were a clear blue, and showed no emotion. The men left him alone until it was time to depart, and even then they were gentle. He followed far behind them, though still in sight, lost in his own thoughts.
I had been walking beside him for a good few minutes before he noticed me. His eyes flicked quickly to his side, and he started, drawing his sword. I smiled at him, though my eyes shone with malice.
"Boy... Surely you know what I am by now, yes? Is that really a smart move?" I drawled, conjuring a short dagger. He flinched, and his sword lowered slightly. I took that as an opening, and snatched it away from his slack hands. He stood in momentary shock, blinking at the blade that lay behind me now.
"Demon." He whispered, his eyes finally resting on mine. I smiled wider, delighted to be recognized.
"Oh, not just any demon, boy. A demon Lord." He narrowed his eyes, clearly contemplating whether the risks of fighting me outweighed the benefits.
Death of a demon Lord is good. Amazing. Might earn him high markings, land him a seat in the upper regions of the caste. On the other hand, demon lords are Lords for a reason. And this specific demon lord had proven that he was rather powerful, having bested a top knight in a one on one match.
"You won't do it." I tilted my head at him. "Or rather, you can't do it." He glared at me.
"You killed them." He said, his tone bland. It wasn't that he was accusing me. He seemed to already know.
"Heavens, no." I laughed. "I only slaughtered the one you so foolishly left alone." His gaze flickered to the men ahead of him, now long out of sight. "My boy, I cannot be in two places at once, I'm afraid. My power may be great, but it does have its limits."
"State your name, demon scum." He demanded. How dare he refer to me as scum? And in such a superior tone! Someone must teach the whelp a lesson, before he is killed.
"Boy, it will benefit you to learn to watch your tongue. I could easily cut it out from this distance." I spun the blade in the air, then sent it whizzing past his ear. He started, and looked back at me, taking a breath and beginning again.
"Would you... Be so kind as to grace me with your name, my liege?" He gritted his teeth, and spat it out, his words dripping in venomous sarcasm.
"Oh, my, so the pet has a nasty bite!" I eyed him, delighted. He appeared disgusted and vulnerable as my eyes traveled down further. "Ah... Still much too young, I'm afraid. My name is Ghirahim, though I would far prefer that you use my full title- Lord Ghirahim. But, I am not picky. I do not expect you to remember that, as I am not going to appear to you... In person... For quite a few more years. Not until you are properly matured." I licked my lips, eyes still on his lithe body. He suppressed a gag, and looked at my face.
"What does that mean?" He asked, an eyebrow arched. I simply gave him an amused side glance, raised my fingers, and snapped away in a flurry of multicoloured diamonds. He took a few seconds to gather himself, then grabbed his blade up and rushed after the rest of his group.
I watched from a distance, still picking the scent of tree resin from my silken cloak.
That night, I entered his nightmares. From a locked room in his academy, I translocated my conscious mind into his dreamscape. When the short spell was finished, I looked around the empty plane. It was a dark room, nearly black, with a chair sitting in the center. The chair was occupied by my dear obsession, and he was slumped back, his eyes shut. As I watched, they opened slowly, and he leaned upright. As he took his surroundings in carefully, his sturdy shoulders began to curl forward in defeat. After a full scan of the room, I allowed myself to be seen, stepping up into his view.
He gasped lightly, his eyes widening. Clearly he had no idea that this was a dream. I was going to use that.
"Demon of the woods, what are you doing here?" He asked, his voice echoing and curiously lacking the tremor of fear that so took the rest of him.
"I simply thought that I'd pay my most recent interest a visit." I purred, taking drawn steps closer to his chair. Upon further inspection, I found that his hands and feet were bound in the chair. What a curious sort of dream.
"Your most recent- that doesn't explain anything. Why am I tied up?" He demanded, jerking his limbs in an effort to free them. I chuckled. What a strange human. Rather, the whole lot of them were strange. This one seemed particularly unusual.
"I was quite hoping you'd explain that to me." I said simply, slithering behind his chair and taking hold of the back of it. I allowed him half a second to register my hands before I threw the chair down, boy and all. In the shock, I was rewarded with a short cry, but it was no scream.
I raised my boot and brought it crashing down on his chest, hearing the crack of a few ribs echoing in the odd dimension. He shouted at that, but it still wasn't quite what I was looking for. I stepped forward and placed my palm on his forehead, reading his fears.
"Oh... Now, isn't that interesting?" I murmured, straightening up. Out of memory and dream dust, I conjured a small vision. His childhood friend, now a trained and practicing spirit maiden, screamed in agony as many blades entered her body. The fake blood spilled around his feet, staining his shoes. She bled on, far longer than any natural human would have. Soon, the illusion was filling the room. As there were no doors, windows, nor other such openings, there was nowhere for the mess to escape. Just as it began to cover his chest, the boy screamed.
It was a rich sound, deep and loud. His voice was rather strong, shaking me where I stood. Feeling rather appeased, I snapped my fingers and allowed the images to fade... But not the reeking scent of blood. His screams did not stop at first, and I could hear from the lack of echo that they were reaching his true lips.
His body's last effort for rescue.
I could feel him beginning to wake, and I laughed. He thought there to be salvation in the waking world, when I could so easily stalk his mind? Before the dream faded entirely, I flashed one last image- the bloodied and tear-streaked face of the boy whom he had held in his arms.
When I deactivated the spell, I could still hear him screaming. I could hear his instructors banging on his door, rattling the handle desperately. I chuckled deeply, shaking my head. No one was getting into that room until the door was opened from the other side- such was the enchantment placed.