Broken
Twin Kats

Ghirahim's hand crafted raft crashed upon the sandy beach of some random island that looked to have life. It actually reminded him quite a bit of Skyloft, or a chuck of Skyloft. He glanced about what he could see as he stepped off of the remains of his raft. Yes, it definitely reminded him of a bit of Skyloft. Granted Ghirahim had only seen the land once, maybe twice in his lifetime, and usually in such a passing manner that it couldn't be considered much helpful.

He'd wanted to see where Link would end up, only once, and he never dared to breech the clouds again until that fateful day after that. Ghirahim breathed out and stumbled forward, limbs attempting to get used to somewhat steady lands. Perhaps, because of the fact that he'd lived, breathed, and practically died upon solid earth he alone could feel the subtle swaying of the island beneath his feet, and it turned his well-honed balance on its head. Ghirahim stumbled into the side of the wall and ran one hand through his hair.

"What in his name has been done to this place?" he muttered and pushed himself upright. Ghirahim started walking past the beach, not even sparing his broken raft a glance. He'd just have to buy a new one off of somebody somewhere, maybe actually learn how to steer one of the things even. He'd never had use for boats before, minions could always do that, but these days….Ghirahim doubted anyone, let alone demons, remembered his name. It appeared to have been far too long.

It took him a minute to get up the hill. He stared at the docks, turned, stared at the building that was apparently some sort of bomb shop given its logo—he couldn't quite read the words—and then he turned to face what appeared to be the main entrance to whatever this place was. It took him a second, staring at the symbols carved into the archway, before he realized something that Ghirahim hadn't thought would be a problem before now.

He had no idea what the writing said. He didn't know it. He probably didn't even know the language they'd speak. The thought, which he'd been pushing back since he'd woken up, crashed down upon him like the force of a torrent and Ghirahim collapsed onto his ass with a frustrated groan. He dug his hands into his hair and tried to contain the disappointment and fury that welled up inside of him, pressing it down in an effort to keep his more human form.

Not that Ghirahim had cared before, he couldn't even be sure how he cared now.

For the first time in quite some time Ghirahim felt less than the perfection that he was. He felt like the broken, disused, abandoned weapon that he was—the failure that Demise saw him as—and it stung. He should've thought of this complication before he stepped off of the island—although how he would have corrected it he had no idea whatsoever—considering how the language had changed over time after Hylia separated the lands and sent the humans into the sky. That had only been a thousand years of difference, now he had no idea how long it could possibly have been since then!

Ghirahim had a thousand years before to adjust to the changes in language, now he had who knows how long. His chest throbbed.

"Idiot," he hissed between his teeth. "You're supposed to be perfect, damn you."

Ghirahim tugged at his hair and almost began slamming his head into the ground in sheer frustration, trying to stem the rising bloodlust that threatened to overcome him, when he felt a tug at his cloak and a soft voice at his side.

"Hey, Mister, you ok?"

It sounded like gibberish. Ghirahim glanced out of the corner of his eye, stifling a groan of fury, and noted that it was a child. A blond, little girl with sky blue eyes and pointed ears…Ghirahim stilled. He had the thought of Hylia and a sudden race of rage but the little girl was dressed in green and green was Link's color—his mind twisted in on itself, confusion, exhaustion, hunger, and pain curling up into one mess.

Ghirahim bent forward and cursed between his teeth and waved a hand. He set the child back with a barrier of diamonds, about the only thing he would do that seemed remotely kind, and then vanished. He didn't disappear from the island—he couldn't, actually, leave the island since all there was surrounding him was ocean and he didn't understand the lay of this land at all. Instead he went from being in front of the—gates?—to this place to being curled up in the sand under some sort of cliff.

For a moment Ghirahim wondered why humans had to be so resilient and adaptable. They changed so quickly in their short lifespans and it left him often reeling when he went years without checking in on them. He could remember one moment Link being a child and the next a man and worthy adversary all because he'd been drawn away by duty or whatever it is Demise wished. Ghirahim shuddered. How was he supposed to find the Sky Child now, when he couldn't even understand a word of the local populace?

Perhaps it would just be better to find out where all the demons had gone, or maybe to follow the calling—Ghirahim jerked and flung out his hand with a sharp growl of frustration and denial that quickly turned into a yelled, "No!" Without even meaning to he let out a burst of magic that kicked up sea water and sand that did nothing but soak him.

Well, the coldness of the water at least jolted him out of his thoughts enough to get him to sit there, dripping wet, and think. The black that had streaked up his arms quickly disappeared and the panic and rage that clouded his mind vanished with it. Ghirahim sighed, shivered lightly, and pulled his now wet hair out of his eyes with a scowl. It would take him far longer than he'd like to fix this set back, and the pull might grow strong or the Sky Child might be drawn into fighting whoever it was—Demise was dead, he had to remind himself—before he could get there and disabuse the Goddess of that notion.

Ghirahim's lips curled back. She'd done enough damage already.

Ghirahim had just thumped his head back against the rock, finally relaxing down as his mind worked furiously to figure out how to overcome this obstacle in the quickest time possible, when he caught the sound of boots on sand.

"Hey!"

Ghirahim was on his feet in an instant, hand held up and two fingers out ready to snap and cast magic or block an incoming attack with his superior strength. He was met with a stranger, a human, and the little girl he'd tossed back earlier hiding in the man's pants. His eyes narrowed and he cautiously lowered his hand a bit, if only to convey he didn't mean harm.

That was body language for not meaning harm, right? Ghirahim frowned and refrained from canting his head to the side in thought, keeping his eyes trained on the humans before him.

"Why'd you push my girl away so forcefully, eh?" the man questioned, and Ghirahim's frown deepened.

"I can't understand you human," he ground out, a bit of frustration leaking into his voice. Gibberish, just gibberish. Why couldn't he have been awake for the thousands of years it took to pull himself together? Ghirahim had a feeling the blasted Fi would never have this problem. Hylia at least knew how to do one thing right.

The human blinked, his eyes widened, but he put on a gentle smile that seemed to throw Ghirahim off and coincidentally make him more unnerved. He raised his hand back up and the man seemed to raise his own in a sign of peace. Ghirahim scowled. He'd never really known peace. He didn't like the thought of it.

The human pointed to his chest. "Vio," he said calmly, and then patted his daughters hair and said, "Linkle."

Ghirahim jerked in surprise at the name, which earned him a curious look. Vio motioned towards the Demon Lord and asked, "Your name?" politely, not that Ghirahim really understood the words but he got the context.

He wanted to groan. This is embarrassing. "Ghirahim," he grunted instead, lowering his hand a bit.

Vio said kindly, "Peace," and raised his hands again in that supposed-to-be calming gesture. Ghirahim snorted.

"I don't think that's doing what you think it's doing, human," he said.

"Vio," Vio insisted. Ghirahim scowled, then rolled his eyes.

"Vio," he said back sarcastically and was met with a blinding smile.

Vio started to head back out from under the cliff towards the village, hand on the little girl's shoulder—Linkle…? Ghirahim felt betrayed—and, almost subconsciously, Ghirahim followed after him. He spoke rapidly in whatever language the humans spoke these days which, at the moment, Ghirahim ignored too focused on the little girl.

It was odd, he felt. Linkle looked and the name even sounded like Link, like the Sky Child. It rubbed him wrong, and he wanted to ask this Vio human what right he had naming the little beast that. Except if he looked closely he could see the resemblance to the Sky Child and his head started to hurt attempting to ponder just what was going on.

Vio led him all the way to the docks, where he motioned towards a boat and smiled and said cheerfully, "My boat!"

Ghirahim stared at him blankly. He wondered what this mattered at all about, but Vio just motioned for Ghirahim to get on. He kept up a dialogue in that language that left Ghirahim cursing under his breath. The Demon Lord debated it, wondered if it would be worth it to do as the strange human was gesturing. For his first foray into human civilization he'd run into such a trusting and foolish pair of them, but at the same time he himself was lost and essentially floundering.

Ghirahim grit his teeth but gave in. He loathed to admit it but he needed help, and until he was able to actually figure out this strange, confusing, island filled world of water he'd have to rely on, and it drove him to shudder in practical disgust, humans. Vio smiled brilliantly at the demon and boarded the boat along with what Ghirahim was quickly recognizing as his daughter and began to set sail. The brat, Linkle, walked up to him and began to chatter away.

Ghirahim almost groaned. This was going to be long, and horrible, and he was greatly regretting his decision.

…

Ghirahim spent the entire boat ride with his legs crossed and his hand pressed firmly against his cheek, staring out ahead with a pout on his lips as the little brat nattered away until she fell asleep. He glanced at her once after she conked out, narrowed his eyes, and huffed. With a scowl he snapped his fingers and a blanket settled carefully over her shoulders to protect her from the chilled winds of the sea.

Vio, most probably her father, watched him curiously and gave this smile which made Ghirahim feel something unholy rise up in his chest, so the demon scowled some more and turned his gaze elsewhere. As he'd thought, the ride had become tedious rather fast. He didn't pay attention to anything, really, not even Vio until the man had called his name at least four times.

"Ghirahim!"

Ghirahim jerked. "What?" he snapped out, and Vio smiled.

"So that means 'what' I take it?" he asked, and Ghirahim's scowl grew deeper.

"I can't understand you, human, or did you forget?" he snapped out.

"Not human," Vio reiterated, and Ghirahim jerked. He hadn't realized that the word 'human' was still the same, given the sharp, clear, and familiar pronunciation. Especially not when Vio mangled his name enough on the first few times he'd speak it. "My name is Vio."

"You look human," Ghirahim mumbled and turned his head away in thought. Vio rolled his eyes and called out again.

"Ghirahim!"

Ghirahim glanced in his direction. Vio motioned for him to come over and gave Ghirahim a pointed look. The demon sighed and got to his feet, wobbling on the boat—the rocking motion was far worse on the boat than on the islands—and made his way over. He caught Vio's chuckles and almost snarled.

"Peace, peace," Vio said. "I've just never seen someone without their sea legs."

"I still have no idea what you are saying," Ghirahim pointed out and Vio laughed again and motioned towards the expanse before him.

"I figure we'll start with lessons on words, since you might want to communicate, Ghirahim," Vio said cheerfully.

"What?" Ghirahim frowned. About the only thing he caught from that was his name. His brow furrowed in confusion and Vio smiled patiently.

"This is the sea," Vio said. "Sea." He waved his hand at the expanse of ocean before him.

"You are making no sense," Ghirahim pointed out. Vio rolled his eyes, repeated the motion, and the word. "Sea?" Ghirahim muttered, confused. "Is that what you want me to say? Sea?"

"Yes! Sea!" Vio smiled.

Ghirahim wanted to die. Trust himself to find the most cheerful human around and get himself stuck on a boat with it.

Vio pointed at the water and said another word, much to Ghirahim's annoyance. "Water."

Ghirahim leaned against the railing. "Water, sure, right. I still have no idea what you are saying." Vio patted his shoulder, the gesture surprising Ghirahim enough that he jerked away and raised a hand up, ready to snap a dagger through the human's face. It was only the look of shock and a bit of horror that made Ghirahim stop, confused.

"I trust it you must not have had a good life before this," Vio murmured sadly.

Ghirahim stared at him, lips pressed thin. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he demanded. "Why are you looking at me like that?!"

"Peace, peace," Vio repeated, raising his hands. "I am sorry."

Ghirahim scowled and moved away.

"I touch," Vio said slowly, and Ghirahim paused. "You, Ghirahim, not like."

Ghirahim glanced to Vio and said, "I touch," slowly. "Vio not." At least, he hoped he got the words right. When Vio nodded, Ghirahim assumed he had figured out the sentences correctly and felt a small thrill of pleasure at the thought. He wasn't so useless after all, it seemed, if he could pick up that much.

"We're almost to the island anyway," Vio said, and Ghirahim took his sudden chatter as dismissal and moved back to where he had been sitting before. "We'll continue lessons when you're in a better mood, no? You should know how to communicate at least."

"I still don't understand you," Ghirahim grumbled. "Why do you insist on talking?"

"First though we should probably eat," Vio continued. "Asa will have made food by the time we return. I was at Windfall to trade this morning. I wonder if you have any clothes…?"

"Can you shut up human?" Ghirahim grumbled.

"Vio," Vio corrected calmly and Ghirahim threw up his hands and huffed, plopping back down with a frown to his lips. Vio just smiled. Quickly enough they came upon the island that Vio had been steering the boat towards. Atop it stood a simple, single house. In fact the island was large enough just for the house and nothing else.

Ghirahim frowned. Didn't humans live in villages or something?

"You…live alone?" he muttered, a bit confused now. Not only was the human kind to him, an obvious demon and stranger, but he lived alone and not in a village? Had the world truly changed so much.

Vio didn't answer, but Ghirahim didn't expect him to. Instead he focused on docking the boat and then tying it down before rousing Linkle and motioning for Ghirahim to follow. Ghirahim did so, vanishing the blanket with a snap of his fingers and a frown.

"Asa will have made food," Vio repeated, but Ghirahim didn't understand. He did smell something that was almost divine, especially after surviving on only but fruit. His stomach grumbled hungrily and for a moment Ghirahim felt embarrassed. "Ah, you're hungry."

"What?" Ghirahim glanced at him, wondering what he'd said. He thought he heard you in there, but he couldn't be certain.

"You, are, you're," Vio repeated slowly. "Hungry."

You, are and you're Ghirahim quickly figured for a conjunction of some kind. Hungry he didn't understand at all until Vio pointed towards his stomach and arched his eyebrows.

"Yes, fine, I'm hungry," Ghirahim muttered and swept his hand through his hair exasperatedly. Vio smiled again.

"Asa always makes food for when I return from early market trading," Vio said cheerfully. "Asa! I've brought a guest!"

"You've brought a what?! Vio I swear to all that is unholy if you've brought one of your drinking buddies without warning me again—" A woman, dressed in blues with hair as pale blond as a Sheikah stepped out of the house with a spatula in hand. She had some sort of bandanna wrapped around her forehead and down around her neck, almost like some sort of strange, new fashion of the old Sheikah headdress. She stopped when she saw Ghirahim, hair and face a mess, looking as if he'd obviously been soaked and then dried in the sea air, and a little thin. Her lips pursed.

"You brought home another stray," she said bluntly.

Vio gave her a blinding smile as Ghirahim watched, completely at a loss as to what was being said. Vio walked up to his wife, saying something, and was received with a smack to the face by the spatula. Linkle, from beside Ghirahim, giggled and clutched at his cloak. Ghirahim glanced down at her.

"Yes," he said, tone utterly serious, "random acts of violence are funny." He tilted his head and peered down at her, almost in a new light. "You'd make a pretty good demon…if you could understand me." Ghrahim frowned and let out a frustrated sigh. "Maybe I could put up with an annoying brat and an overly cheerful human."

"Not human!" Vio spoke up, and Ghirahim glanced back towards him. "Vio."

His brow twitched. "No matter how many times you say Vio that doesn't mean I won't quit calling you human," he grunted, tossing his hands up. Asa glanced between the two, let out an unladylike snort and shouted something over her shoulder as she stormed back inside. Vio rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous smile.

Linkle giggled, said something that Ghirahim couldn't catch—not that he understood, but nobody seemed to get that—and skipped off into the house. Vio pleasantly motioned Ghirahim to follow after her.

"I have no idea how you can't see that I am a very deadly weapon," Ghirahim said tiredly, "but at this moment food is all I care about. I'll think about violent bloody murder later." He did as Vio bid, and wondered if this was to be his new lot in life.