The deep woods were crawling with monsters-and hornets, as my stings proved. I had barely escaped Gorko's amazed lecture on the Goddess Cubes. I didn't care about "the wonders of the ancient world." Not when my friend needed me.

The door to the dungeon opened when I fired a deku seed from my slingshot at the pink-it just had to be pink, didn't it?-gemstone lock. Okay, so there was one use for it. But I didn't plan on needing it anymore.

The inside of the temple was cool and damp, but the humidity was terrible. I turned left at the bird statue and found myself tangled in a web. With some struggling, I broke free and pushed forward, only to be swarmed by keese-which I couldn't kill fast enough.

Hold on Link, I thought. I'm here now. Just don't go anywhere.

*.*

Four hours later, I finally was twisting the Master Key into the last door between me and Link's aura. Whoever had designed this temple-or prison-was a lunatic: I kept getting lost, and every puzzle took so long that I feared my mission would be for naught, and my best friend long gone.

After shoving the key in the right way, the lock vanished and the doors opened wide. Heedless of any possible dangers, I charged inside, unable to wait any longer.

I came to an abrupt stop as I entered the circular room. There was someone else here. Someone who was not Link. A flare of bright yellow light temporarily blinded me as I came closer. When my eyes readjusted, I gasped.

Standing before me, holding a wicked black sword, was a tall man with snow-white skin, his back to me. With a wave of his sword, it melted into shadowy diamonds.

"Well look who it is," he remarked in a voice colder than winter. "I thought that tornado I'd stirred up would've torn apart. Yet here you are. Not in pieces." He paused.

"Not that your life or death has any consequence."

He turned to face me and it took all my willpower not to step back; half his face was concealed by long white bangs, but the half I could see was just freakish: a purple shadow under his eye, highlighting it, and a large blue diamond earring dangling from his ear. But it was the look in his eye that scared me: utterly pitiless and full of darkness.

Mercifully, he turned to look at the door before him, one marked with the Goddess' symbol.

"It's only the boy who matters now," he muttered to himself. "I can sense him here...just behind this door. We took him from his perch in the clouds and he belongs to us now."

"Oh listen to me," he continued, "I'm being horribly rude. I am the Lord of this land, the world you call the surface. You may call me Ghirahim. Though in truth, I like to be indulged with my full title, Lord Ghirahim But I'm not fussy."

"Whatever," I interrupted, seizing the hilt of my sword. "I don't care if you're Lord of the world. I'm taking my friend back. He doesn't belong to scum like you."

I pulled my sword free of it's sheath angrily to punctuate my sentence. Ghirahim didn't even so much as glance at me.

"Did you really just draw your sword. Foolish girl." He turned to face me and spread his arms wide. "By all rights, he should belong to us already. He was nearly ours when that foolish servant of the Goddess snatched him away. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"

I was about to tell him that I didn't care, but suddenly the room began flashing between dark and light and the sick feeling I'd had by the sealing spike returned.

"Furious!" Ghirahim hollered. "Outraged! Sick with anger!"
He suddenly vanished in a flash of diamonds, the room darkening and remaining so. His voice continued to sound as I spun around looking for him.

"This turn of events has left me with a strong appetite for bloodshed."

I froze when I realized that he was directly behind me. He began to whisper creepily in my ear.

"Still...it seems hardly fair, given my position-and yours for that matter-that I take all my anger out on you. Which is why I promise up front not to murder you...No, I'll just beat you within an inch of your life!"

Girahim licked his lips, and I stepped away as quick as I could, whirling to face him. Girahim chuckled to himself as his cloak dissolved into diamonds. I charged and swung my sword with all my might. Girahim caught the tip easily, his fingers glowing red. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed my sword into the air and caught it.

"Hah, quite the sword you have here," he commented. Then his face twisted into a cruel grin. "But so long as you telegraph your moves like a novice, you'll never land a blow."

I circled him, waiting for an attack, and was not disappointed: Girahim slashed my own sword at me. Blocking the strike with my wooden shield, the sword flew from his grip. Dropping into a roll, I seized my sword, and stabbed at the Demon Lord again. Once again, my attack was effortlessly stopped.

Telegraphing my moves, I thought. I had to stop being so obvious. The next time Girahim walked towards me, I tried to keep my sword still until I struck. It worked: Girahim staggered from the hit. I eagerly repeated the method multiple times.

It would have been too easy, except for that Girahim changed his fighting tactic halfway through: he brought back his black sword. He charged whirling his sword with black vapor trailing from it. I leapt aside, my nausea returning. Then, with a snap of his fingers, vanished into a flurry of diamonds.

Suddenly, he reappeared, holding his sword in a vertical block. I maneuvered my blade around his and managed another mark on him.

The next time he attacked, he summoned several small knives, glowing red. I caught almost half of them on my shield, but the rest cut me on my legs and arms. He repeated the attack the second my shield dropped. With no other option, I slashed them with my sword. To my shock, they flew back at my opponent, further injuring him.

We went back and forth for what felt like an eternity. Then, as I swung the Goddess sword with all the energy I could muster, Girahim stumbled back, wiping a small trickle of blood from his mouth. Straightening, he pointed his black blade at me.

"Well...You put up more of a fight than I'd have thought possible out of a girl. But don't applaud yourself so quite yet. That sword of yours is the only reason you still live."

I was sorely tempted to run him through and show his what this "girl" was capable of. Girahim didn't even pay attention to my anger, and kept talking.

"I fear I've spent for too long teasing and toying with you. That's boys presence has all but faded, so there is no reason to linger here. Good-bye, sky child. Run and play this time. Get in my way agin, and you're dead."

With long wave of his sword, he vanished in a flurry of white diamonds.

I waited tensely for a minute, and when the Demon Lord did not reappear, I fell to my knees, using my sword like a cane to prop me up. I ached all over, and my chest hurt from my rapid breathing. The cuts and other wounds I'd sustained stung, and small drops of blood ran down the length of my blade.

I would never admit it aloud, but Girahim hit hard. His vainglorious, self-centered insanity-so much like Groose, now that I thought of it, minus the crazy evil desires-made her want to laugh, as well as cower. I could've handled his swordwork if he wasn't so intimidating.

After I felt sufficiently rested, I turned to the door Girahim had said Link was behind. If what the Demon Lord said was true, then my whole search was in vain, and my friend was not there.

As I came to the door, the Goddess crest flashed white, then faded away, taking the door with it. Sheathing the sword I walked through, scarcely allowing myself to hope. Whether or not he was there, this was the end of my journey. It had to be. I would not continue and risk crossing swords with that madman again.

I was sure that this had to be the end.