AUTHOR'S NOTE: Blah blah blah, general banter on how update times suck, school sucks too, I'm busy with a lot of things, VGCW and school and writing, that's three things, yada yada yada, read, review, and enjoy.

But seriously, read, review, and enjoy!

The shadows crept in once more. He could feel them surging through his veins. It felt good. He could see the darkness around him reforming, twisting and shaping a scene around him. He was back on the battlefield. He could see the countless bodies strewn around him. Mangled, bloody, and disfigured. This wasn't the work of a physical force, but of a dark presence. The world around him was silent. The area was devoid of all life, save for him, on looking the destruction. A great sadness began to fill him. He fell to his knees in despair, weeping not for the dead masses, but for himself. Was this destruction his doing? Was this bloodshed the chain he carried? He held his head in his hands, staining his own face with the death he had brought upon these people. Pulling away his hands, he saw only the darkened red stains. He brought himself to his feet, staggering to relive what he thought had been banished to the farthest reaches of his mind. And yet, the scene in front of him felt all too familiar.

He felt himself fading from the massacre, his body left behind to suffer with the rest of his sins. He watched as the darkness reformed once more, this time a bleak display became focused. He recognized this confrontation. He stood in front of his ranks, face to face with a blinding light. The weak and tired huddled behind him. He was their single hope, riding alone against this opposing force. Although unclear to him at the time, he could see now what he was fighting against. These forces of good outweighed the forces of evil, and the burden of the battle felt heavy upon his shoulders. He already knew the outcome, but he still felt the rush of the melee coursing through him. The ruins and deforestation around him were an eerie sight. The battlefield lay empty as the two forces stood opposed.

This scene also drifted away, another memory passed and forgotten. A final vision appeared. Ghirahim looked on as Demise's head hung low. His old master slowly took out the sword from its hilt. He placed it in a pedestal, and bent over to give instructions. Ghirahim remembered them all too well, the words that would guide his antagonistic journey. Before he could reach out and stop him, he felt something inside of him holding him back. Da-

"Grooseland… We're here…"

"Groose, what are you doing with that lantern?"

Groose looked down, startled. "Oh shit, I'm sorry." he stuttered, blowing out the lantern's flame with a harsh blow.

"Sorry for what? My daddy taught us not to be asha- wait, where'd you get that lantern?"

"Oh, I picked it up and carried it out with us after the cistern. Always good to keep some items on hand." Groose held up Coarstle's Glove and rattled it as Ghirahim let out a long sigh. "So what's going on with you?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Dude, you backhanded Cheeb off this volcanic pillar about ten minutes ago whilst screaming and thrashing in your sleep. Something's wrong, and it's my job to fix it because I am the best hero Grooseland has ever had."

"You're the only hero Grooseland's ever had." Ghirahim retorted.

"That's probably because nobody else wants to be a hero, because I am just too good to live up to."

"Yeah, okay." Ghirahim decided that now was as good a time as ever to let loose what he'd been holding deep inside his mind. "Groose, did you know what we're sitting on right now is a piece of the volcano in Eldin?"

"I did not know that. How do you?"

"I've been around for quite some time now, Groose. I've seen and experienced things that still haunt me to this day…"

And so, Ghirahim relayed his story. The story of how he had once battled under the flag of evil, an evil army of demonic forces led by none other than Demise. He told of the horrific destruction he had witnessed, and the countless souls he had taken. He spoke of the Goddess Hylia, then on the opposing side, the one who had sent Skyloft up beyond the clouds. He explained the final, all-out brawl his forces had fought with Hylia's, and the defeat he was handed. The brave warriors he had fought alongside were the same demon chiefs he fought today. He told Groose all of this, along with all the regrets he still carried with him.

"Holy shit that's deep. One might say that's two deep four me."

"Groose, I still don't understand how you manage to misspell words you say aloud."

"It's a fanfiction thing." Groose replied.

Ghirahim shrugged it off and continued his story. "So then, after the defeat, Demise quickly sealed me away inside the very same dark sword that he fought you with prior. I was given instructions to awaken a set number of years in the future, and then our little scuttle occurred over your adventure. My heel-face turn occurred, and that's where we are now."

"So that's why you've been acting so… what's the word I'm looking for… edgy?"

"No, just kind of depressed, I guess. The world I lived in previous to this was a world of bloodshed, and I thrived. Perhaps I didn't fare well on the transition."

"That's okay, we still love you." Groose said, then yawned. "There's one question I have left though. What's the relation between you and Fi?"

"Well, uh…" Before Ghirahim could finish, Groose had passed out again on the rock. Ghirahim was happy that he took the news well. That was good.

"I'm sorry I failed you, master."

"You should be sorry! Sorry you didn't stop them, and sorry you haven't actually appeared for a couple of chapters. When I decide to make you a main-event player, you have to live up to that! Don't come back here for an entertaining banter."

"I won't fail you again. They've only collected three of the Triforce pieces, they won't get beyond that, I promise."

"I believe you. But just in case, I hired you an accomplice."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, he's got laser beams! How cool is that?"