Super Smash Brothers: Guardians Arise!

by PitFTW

An old enemy returns, this time ripping the souls of the Smashers away from their bodies. By taking possession of them, he hopes to take over the Smash World. 100 years later, the Smashers must turn to humans for help. But some just can't get along...

12. Wrath

Wrath, Heir to the Throne

Alright guys, sorry about taking forever to update. I was working on my entry for Pikana's contest. But now that that's done, I can focus on this fic! :D

Special thanks to TwilightBlayderJulz for being my beta reader and Wrath Draconian for being the official artist for this story!

Disclaimer: HYAH!!! AAAHH!!! GAH SKRAAAAAA!!!! EEEHHHHH AAAAAHHHH!!!! HYAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!

Note: That was Link speak

She stepped out of the shadows. Anger and betrayal filled Golfer's mind as she came forward, a feeling so close to hate that even Samus was filled with fear. No mortal should be filled with such hatred for another, a woman especially. It was a dangerous thing, powerful enough to destroy lives and rip great kingdoms to shreds. It was a great weapon and a dangerous enemy all at once. It was just the thing that could destroy the Smash World even more than it had been destroyed already. Fear, distrust and hatred… the three things that made up the unholy triangle.

Her arm was still wrapped securely around Pikana as she stepped out, ignoring the little guardian as she tried to squirm her way free. Pikachu's mind raced in fear as this new foe revealed herself, his concern for both Pikana and Golfer rising. He struggled to gain a good look at his captor.

She was a fierce looking young woman to be sure, with hair black as night and eyes bright as day. Tall and stately, she had luminous milk white skin and a soft complexion, emphasizing her dark hair and eyes. But what truly drew the eye to her were the two jet black wings that sprouted from her shoulders, scaly and menacing like that of a dragon's. It occurred to Pikachu that this young woman was not truly human. Perhaps half dragon?

One of her slim arms was wrapped around Pikana's waist, pinning the girl's arms to her sides. The other hand was clamped upon the Pokemon's mouth, rendering her unable to speak or scream. She used her wings to keep her balance upon the tree branch as she and Golfer glared at each other, her dark eyes shining.

Meanwhile, Samus did her best to help her guardian restrain the feelings of intense dislike bubbling up within him.

"Calm down! She can be a potential ally…"

"Potential ally my a--." Golfer muttered.

The winged girl smiled at him and glanced down at the Pikachu held securely in her arms.

"I see you've made some new friends since we last saw each other, Golfer..."

"Traca," Golfer spat, "What do you want?"

Traca looked hurt by his harsh words, and for a moment, Samus felt a surge of pity for the young girl.

"I was just flying over this place and just happened to see my old pal… what's so wrong about stopping and saying 'hi'?"

Golfer's eyes darted from Traca's long face to Pikachu's guardian, who was still locked securely in her arms.

"Your way of saying 'hi' scares me a bit…"

A small guilty smile and a shrug escaped her.

"Hey, can't blame a girl for not wanting to get chopped up, fried, and served shish kebab style, right?"

Pikachu felt a slight flash of annoyance glimmer in Pikana's mind. It wasn't long before he sensed her trying to tap into the round red sacs of her cheeks, trying to access the unbelievable amount of energy stored therein. Electricity crackled, sparks flew, and the power of lightning was unleashed.

"CHUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!"

Almost at once Traca was engulfed in crackling electricity, the powerful sparks sending surges of pain through her veins. With a scream of pain and surprise, she dropped Pikana and she herself tumbled to the ground below, electricity burning her wings. Pikana leaped up and rolled to one side just as the Primids sprang upon them. They headed first for Traca, weakened as she was and leaped upon her, tearing at her wings. The girl did her best to beat them away to no avail, her eyes watering as the beam sword of a Primid sliced a hole in her wing.

"Watch out!" Pikachu shouted as a Primid grabbed at Pikana's tail from behind.

Pikana whirled around and gave the Primid a hard slap to the face.

"Hey! Don't you know how rude it is to touch a girl's butt?"

When she was answered by nothing more than a few mere gurgles, she aimed a swift tail whip at him and watched in satisfaction as her pocket knife transformed into her beloved chainsaw.

"EAT CHAINY, PERVERT!!!!!"

"What did he say?" Pikachu asked, curiosity overcoming him as a few Primids were sliced to shreds.

Pikana scowled.

"He said I have a nice ass! OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!!!!!!"

Samus watched in horror as the two women were ambushed, one of them unable to protect herself. She noticed how Traca seemed to grope for a small golden stone hanging around her neck, trying to touch the stone. But her hand was always blocked from touching the stone by a Primid or some other obstacle. Her sharp temper rose when Golfer made no move to help them, merely sitting back and watching as the fighting wore on.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded as he began making a new cast out of leaves.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked calmly, "I'm watching an epic battle!"

"Watching?!? You should be fighting down there!" she scolded, "What kind of hunter are you if you don't help others in need?"

"A hunter who's too lazy to die," he replied with a shrug, "They're both strong. They can handle themselves…"

But he was wrong. Though Pikana did everything she could to help Traca, she was in a situation of her own. The Primids had wizened up to her fighting style, to her slightly random movements that normally slew at least ten at a time. They dodged when necessary and struck with such a brute force that they knocked Chainy right out of her hands. Lacking the energy to unleash any more electricity, Pikana simply charged at them and attacked with her claws and teeth.

"BLECH!!!!" she yelled as she bit off the arm of a Primid, "What are you guys made of, poop?"

She was answered by a few more gurgles. Upon hearing their response, her face contorted in horror and she staggered back. The Primids came closer to her, the foul stench of Subspace radiating off them in waves. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Traca, crushed under the weight of at least fifty Primids, her wings being the only part not yet buried. At that moment, a Primid with a beam sword was hacking away at them, as if trying to chop them right off.

For the first time in her life, Pikana felt fear well up within her. Fear clutched at her heart with an iron grip, chilling her to the very bone. The glowing red eyes of the Primids seemed to surround her, digging right into her very soul. She was paralyzed with fear, unable to move a muscle because of those horrible red eyes. The eyes that spelled her own death right before her.

"Pikana!" Pikachu cried desperately, "Pikana!!! Can you hear me? SNAP OUT OF IT!!!!"

But she could not hear him, her fear overcoming what little reason she had left after years in the asylum. Golfer saw this and out of sheer instinct, reached for a branch and prepared himself for attack. For a brief moment, Samus felt hope as her guardian was ready to leap into action. But just as suddenly, his hand closed tightly around the branch and released it. He would not fight.

Samus saw the conflict. His mind was fighting against his heart, locked in a battle that neither would win. She saw the memories of his past, the past that he never truly let go of and the scenes of the present. She saw how the girl's betrayal had left him cold and bitter, how torn he was between his anger for her and his loyalty to her as a friend.

But unbeknownst to either of them, the small figure in the very core of the great mass of Primids was stirring. And as her final moments of consciousness faded away before her eyes, she reached up…

… and wrapped her hand around the little amber stone.

---

Cameron knelt down and lightly blew into the dying flames, trying to provide fuel for the tiny fire. The red scarf that normally covered his face was pulled down ever so slightly to allow his breath to seep through. But his face still remained hidden in the shadow he seemed to carry around him wherever he went. He and Nask had been traveling the continent of Tellius for a day and a half now and both were downright exhausted. After what seemed like hours of searching, they finally found some suitable firewood and entered a small cave. Without any flint with which to create sparks, the two were forced to build fire the old fashioned way.

"Damn…" Nask cursed, wincing as pain shot up her arm, "I knew I should've brought the tinderbox with me…"

"Tinderbox?" Marth questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, a tinderbox! You know, this… box thing that helps make fire?" Nask said tracing a small rectangle with her one good hand, "It's about… this big?"

"We didn't have tinderboxes," Marth said lightly, "We had fire tomes."

"Well, as soon as you can find a good fire sage, this is all we've got." his guardian mumbled, gesturing to the tiny embers of their "fire".

Meanwhile, Cameron had not yet ceased trying to bring life to the poor fire. He blew and blew with all his might, going to the point to where his head began to spin and his chest hurt from the effort of drawing breath. When the effort was all too much for him, he laid down on the cold stone floor of the cave, his head spinning with dizziness. He shot a small glare at where Nask was talking with Marth, slightly put out that she had not lifted a finger to help him. Instead, she was tending to her broken arm, wrapping it in some cloth they had found along the way.

"She should at least lend me a finger…" he mumbled, making sure that the girl wasn't listening, "She's got one good arm left…"

"Well… at least she's happy in some way…" Ike sighed miserably, watching as Nask smiled at something Marth said.

Ranulf's death had taken a great toll on the once proud mercenary. Though he no longer had a physical form, he knew that he was pale and drawn by now, his eyes rimmed with red from crying. He had been forced to kill one of his greatest friends, his most trusted ally. It was bad enough that Soren, Mia and so many others of his mercenary troupe had lost their lives to Tabuu, but Ranulf as well?

That had been all too much for the Hero of Tellius. During their whole journey he remained aloof from the rest, not even talking to Marth when the Altean Prince would take possession of Nask's body to converse with him. He spoke little and did little. The whole day and a half seemed like hundreds of years for him, years upon years of endless wandering on a deserted landscape, with nothing but his own aching heart to comfort him.

Marth frowned as he watched Cameron collapse in exhaustion, the little embers of the fire they were trying to build dying even more.

"Nask, perhaps you should help him make the fire…"

Nask coolly glanced over at the little flames before shrugging and turning back to her arm.

"He can handle it."

Marth shook his head.

"I don't think so. You're a woman, you should be handling the household chores!"

"Last time I checked, I was a soldier." Nask said bluntly, "A soldier trying to catch up on sleep."

Marth clucked in disapproval. "A soldier should always be on their guard, willing to protect their companions and those they are loyal to at any sort of-"

Nask yawned, interrupting Marth. "Like I said, whaaaaaatever…"

"Now see here, Nask!" Marth thundered.

But he was too late. His guardian had dropped off to sleep, her dreams filling the mind they both shared. With a small huff, Marth crossed his arms and sat down, unsure of what to do now. He could easily wake her up. All he needed to do was create a loud enough noise. But a small surge of guilt washed over him as he then glanced at her broken arm, twisted at such an angle that it was a wonder that it stayed on. With a small sigh, he allowed her to sleep and instead seeped his way out of her mind and into the cave itself.

Cameron felt himself beginning to drop off, his eyelids seeming to weigh more and more by the passing second. The fire, small as it was, shed a warming comfort on him, a comfort that he had not felt in a long time. For a moment, he distantly had the image of gentle arms holding him, rocking him back and forth. The warmth of the little flames engulfed him, causing all his muscles to relax. He felt his eyelids droop.

But there was something deep in the back of his mind that sounded an alarm, begging him to stay awake. Was something bad going to happen? No, it was a peaceful night. The moon shone brightly above him, casting a soft silver glow around the land of Tellius. A cool breeze blew its way into the cave, mingling with the warmth of the dying embers. He smiled as this happened. There was no way anything bad could happen.

Ike felt his guardian drifting off, watching as dreams flooded their way into his mind. He heaved a heavy sigh, full of sorrow and mourning. At least he was able to sleep.

Suddenly, he felt a sudden wave of power sweep over him, gently soothing his troubled soul. He had sensed this power many times and he knew exactly what this meant.

Marth wanted to talk to him.

Ike frowned, unsure as to whether or not he should talk to the prince this time around. He had been quite lonely on the journey, his being too aloof making him unable to catch up with Marth. But if he had refused to speak to him before, what difference would it make now?

That question nagged at him, never giving him any peace...

"Ike!" Marth called softly, thankful that the sleeping guardians could not hear him, "Ike, we need to talk… "

Ike chose not to answer, instead choosing to dwell on the memories that had haunted him for so long. Mia's laughter, Soren's skill, Ranulf's humor, Titania's wise council… their faces floated in front of him one by one, some smiling, some fierce. He felt a small pang in his heart at the face of Mia, the girl who had changed his life forever. He had watched her as she died in his arms, killed by a great fire from some unknown place.

She had been torn from him, just like that. How easy it was to take a life...

Ike flexed his fingers. How easy and how cruel...

"Ike!" Marth called again, "Ike, we have to talk! You can't just sit in Cameron's head and mope forever…"

Ike scowled and turned away, trying his best to tune out the voice of the Altean.

"Watch me…"

---

Fear. That was the one emotion she knew. Fear clouded her heart, her mind, and even her very soul. But there was one thing that kept her sane, that allowed her to keep hold of her reason and her heart: Yoshi.

The sweet little dinosaur had given her support for these past who knows how long. She did not know how much time had flowed past her since the moment she had been cruelly thrown into this little cage, with just barely enough room for her to crawl around and exercise her aching limbs. With little nourishment for her body, she grew thinner and thinner every day, her strength slowly draining away.

Yoshi saw this and wept, unable to do a thing to help her. Like a wilting flower, his guardian great pale and drawn, her thin frame shrinking to such a degree that it was almost skeletal. Yet she still reserved her kind heart and strong spirit, just enough to hold the horrible pirates at bay when they came for her.

Mah sighed when she heart the little green dinosaur let out another sniffle in her mind, shaking her head.

"Yoshi, it's not you're fault I'm here. These pirates would've gotten us either way."

"But I was the one who climbed up that ladder," Yoshi wailed, "I was the one who didn't go back down, even though I saw the name of the boat… even though I knew there was danger around, I didn't turn back Mah!"

Mah managed a small smile.

"Well… our situation could be worse, right? At least I'm still alive… and I still have my virginity. And at least these pirates have been nice to us… sorta… that's what matters."

Yoshi let out another wail of anguish.

"It's not alright! Because of me, we got into this situation and sooner or later, you won't have enough energy to resist those guys anymore and they'll hurt you… really badly…"

Mah shook her head again, feeling bravery welling up within her.

"Like I said, it can't be that bad! I'll take whatever is thrown at me!"

"Y-You don't u-understand…" the smasher stammered, "They'll hurt you… they'll hurt you so much you'll never be the same again… the way you live, how you walk, everything will be changed…"

Before Mah could answer, the distinct creak! of the door interrupted her. Sitting up as straight as she could, she fixed her eyes on the tiny sliver of light that had entered the little room, illuminating the tiny corner of the cage in which she sat. Narrowing her eyes, Mah watched as a figure appeared, pushing the door away and bathing the room in the faint sea light. The figure was short, much shorter, and much smaller than any of the pirates Mah had seen yet.

As the figure took a few more steps into the room, she saw that this figure was a male, a rather short and skinny male. His orange hair caught the light as he walked, showing off the green streaks that lined it and emphasizing his eyes, one orange and one green. His clothing was unusual, to say the least. He wore a tight green shirt covered with an orange vest with blue jeans covering his legs. As he neared, she saw a pair of blood red headphones bouncing against this orange vest, with some sort of loud, obnoxious music coming from them.

He was smiling as he entered, but it wasn't the malicious and disgustingly seductive smile the other pirates gave her. It was a true smile, warm as the sun, spreading to his eyes. Despite this, Mah braced herself and shuffled to the farthest corner of her cage so as to avoid him.

Yoshi frowned slightly as he approached, unsure of whether to trust this boy or not. With every step that he took, a wooden floorboard creaked and the ship seemed to rock even more. But as if by magic, a scent reached the nose of both Mah and the little green dino. It was a delicious smell, a scent created only through the mixing of many spices and vegetables. The smell of hot soup. And indeed the boy was grasping a bowl in his hands at that very moment, the steam from the precious bowl turning spirals in midair.

Yoshi's eyes popped out of his head, his mouth watered with glee. It had been a long time since he had had soup. For the past days, both he and Mah had nothing more than some sort of foul tasting cracker bread called "hardtack" by the pirates. It was horribly dry and disgusting, but it kept Mah alive. She had nearly cracked her teeth with each bite of hardtack the first time she tasted this strange substance and neither she nor Yoshi wished to see a single piece of hardtack ever again. For what seemed like years, they both huddled in the thick darkness that pressed itself upon them, dreaming of the delicious foods they had lost during the battle against the Spaaks. And to see this boy simply standing there with the tiniest taste of Heaven in his hands was pure torture. It took all of Yoshi's strength to hold back Mah's empty stomach, to prevent her from following her stomach and simply leaping out to snatch the bowl out of the boy's hands.

The boy stopped in front of the cage, the scent of the soup even closer to Mah now. Yoshi sensed the smell of fresh tomato basil, causing him to drool even more. He almost loosened his grip on his guardian's willpower, wishing desperately to feel the precious substance running down her throat. But he held on as tightly as he could, trying his best to block his senses from the steaming liquid that was just so close to him.

Mah watched with widened eyes as the boy knelt down until he was eye level with her. Chocolate brown met orange and green as their eyes locked, causing the boy to grin even more. Taking care not to spill a drop of the soup, the boy carefully passed it through the bars of her cage and laid it on the ground before her. The bowl was actually nothing more than a tiny mug, but it was more food than Mah and Yoshi had had in a long time. Despite her immense hunger, Mah refused to take the soup, staring nervously at it as it was laid down.

The boy laughed.

"It's not poisoned! Trust me, if I poisoned that stuff, I would've given it to 'Captain' Squall a looooong time ago! Go ahead and eat it! All I did was stick a little rat poop in there and…"

Mah gasped in horror, pressing her back even further against the bars. Realizing her fear, the boy immediately sobered and stretched his thin arm through the bars to push the bowl even closer to the frightened girl.

"Sorry about that. I was joking," he said, adding another laugh to the din, "But seriously, go ahead. I already had my dinner and I would've got you more, but this was all I could sneak past Cookie without him noticing."

Mah still felt nervous, eyeing the bowl as if it were some creature ready to come to life.

"S-Should I?"

Yoshi turned his attention to the boy, looking deep into his orange and green eyes. He searched and searched, but he could find no trace of the malice or dishonesty he had often seen dancing behind the eyes of the pirates. Rather, he saw good humor and true kindness, though there seemed to be a long streak of mischief of some sort within this boy.

"He seems nice enough…" the dinosaur finally stated, "I… I think we can trust him…"

With a small sigh of relief, Mah took up the bowl and held it to her lips, allowing the warm liquid within to run down her throat. The first sip was pure heaven. Yoshi gasped as soon as the hot, but not scalding liquid hit his guardian's tongue, the sweet taste of tomato and basil filling her mouth. It ran down her throat like a waterfall, filling her stomach and warming her freezing body. On and on the soup poured, the little cup like a bottomless bowl of Heaven, made just for them. But all too soon, the cup was empty, yet Mah's stomach was more filled that it had been for the past who knows how long.

"Thank you," she said appreciatively, passing the cup back to the kind boy.

His grin widened as he took the cup.

"And now for your desert! Hardtack!"

Mah made a face.

"No thank you! I'll skip out on desert tonight, thank you very much!"

He roared with laughter.

"Fine then! Suit yourself!"

Looking once over his shoulder, the boy stood up and smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, but the big fat idiots are calling me. I have to go before they notice I'm gone."

As he reached the door, he turned back to the young girl. "If you need anything, I'll be around to check on you at noontime every day. Tell me then, alright Miss…"

"Mah," Mah answered, "My name is Mah."

He nodded.

"Alright, Mah. I'll be here if you need me… call me… call me Ridere."

---

Pichn trembled in fear as the torchlight continued to flicker all around him and his brother. Picho had long ago fallen asleep on the hard stone floor, his snores echoing eerily around the cell. Pichn shivered and wrapped himself in his arms, watching as his every breath created a small puff of steam in the cold air.

"How long have we been here?" Kirby asked, "I'm hungry…"

Pichn sneezed and rubbed his arms with his hands. "I-I don't know… K-Kirby…"

"And this prison food's just the worse," Kirby whined, his voice tearful, "Not good tasting at all and not filling either…"

"B-But we're s-still alive… right?" Pichn stammered, another sneeze escaping him, "A-And we're a-all s-still together!"

"But I'm hungry!" Kirby moaned.

Pichn sighed, feeling his stomach growl. "We both are…"

Meanwhile, Ness was sitting inside Picho's mind, unable to think of anything to occupy himself with. Picho mostly dreamed about what any boy imprisoned by an evil king would dream of. Assassinating the king, blowing up the castle, assassinating the king, finding the Triforce, assassinating the king, pretty girls in hot tubs…

Wait, what was that? Ness blinked in surprise and watched as the dream floated away. He rolled his eyes. in a time like this, no one should be dreaming of pretty girls in hot tubs.

Unless Paula…

"Snap out of it, Ness!" he scolded himself, "First thing's first! We gotta get out of here!"

"Shut up, Ness," Picho mumbled, "I'm trying to sleep…"

Before Ness could answer, there was a sudden bang!, as if a door was being thrown wide open. Pichn sprang up from his sitting position and searched for something, anything that could be used to defend himself with. His eyes fell on a little wooden bowl on the floor. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. He picked up the bowl, wincing slightly as splinters found their way to his fingers.

Kirby's mouth watered as he laid his eyes on the bowl. It had been a long time since he had tasted the sweet flavor of fresh pine or cedar. By the smell of the bowl, it was made of oak, but none of this mattered to him. He was starving and it was tempting, very tempting to just swallow the bowl right then and there…

"Kirby?" Pichn asked, surprise evident in his voice, "You can't be seriously wanting to eat the bowl… right?"

Kirby blinked and regained his senses. "N-No! Of course not!"

"Picho! HEY PICHO!!!" Ness shouted, almost causing the little boy to receive a headache,n "Wake up, will ya?"

"Lemme sleep," his guardian mumbled, "Five more minutes, Mom…"

"Your bro's in trouble!" Ness said with forced patience, "You know… your twin?"

"Tired…" Picho mumbled.

Ness sighed and looked around the joke shop that was his guardian's mind. There were a great many things he could use to wake him up. Noisemakers, whoopee cushions, and water balloons were among them. But as he set his eyes on one thing, a small malicious grin crossed his face. Placing his hands together, he closed his eyes and tapped into his inner PSI Power.

"PK FIRE!!!!!"

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Picho's head. With a howl of pain, he leaped five feet into the air and proceeded to hopping about the cell, clutching his head in pain. Pichn stopped staring at the bowl in his hands long enough to watch his brother, surprise evident on his face.

"What's wrong, bro?" he asked as he watched Picho hop around.

"THE FIREWORKS!!!!!" he answered, still clutching his head, "NESS BLEW UP MY FIREWORKS!!!!"

In his head, Ness let out a small chuckle. "That's what you get!"

"Fireworks?" Pichn asked, raising an eyebrow, "You keep your fireworks in your head?"

"Does he have any left?" Kirby asked expectantly.

"Ahem…"

The two boys stopped hopping around long enough to turn their attention to this new voice. The silhouette of a tall, broad shouldered figure could be clearly seen, outlined by the orange glow of the torches. He was dressed in the garb of a knight, his chain mail glittering in the din. The golden hilt of his sword could be seen, sparkling with his every movement.

Pichn braced himself and held his bowl aloft, ready to spring. Meanwhile, Picho concentrated on Ness's inner PSI power, preparing to launch a blast of fire or electricity at this intruder. The figure seemed to fumble a bit at his belt before removing a ring of some kind with what looked like abnormally shaped sticks on them. The stick seemed to be made of metal as they clanged together often, causing the dungeon to echo with the sounds of iron against iron.

"Sorry I took so long," the stranger said, fumbling with the ring of sticks, "I ran into trouble on the way down and since I couldn't fit into those damn vents anymore…"

The brothers watched as he inserted a stick into the lock of the cell and tried turning it. When it did not work, he chose another one and tried again. Picho frowned in confusion as he did this, wondering why they were being let go just like that. Pichn never left his position, his grip on the bowl unwavering.

"He sounds nice…" Ness said uncertainly, "And he's letting us go…"

Picho deepened his frown. "But can he be trusted?"

Pichn squinted at the figure, trying to penetrate the darkness. "He… he seems familiar somehow…"

"As long as he has food, he's fine with me!" Kirby announced.

The figure at the cell door continued to fumble with what the two boys realized was his key ring. "Stupid keys… they all look the same… Dad can at least label them…"

It was then that Pichn recognized his voice. "P-Prince Rinku?"

The figure stopped looking at the keys long enough to fix his gaze upon the little boy. For a moment, Pichn thought he saw the slightest hint of a smile on his shadowed face. The figure stepped back a few steps, revealing his face in the faint torchlight. Rinku grinned, showing off straight, even teeth.

"It is you!" Pichn exclaimed.

"Does he have something to eat?" Kirby asked hopefully.

Picho, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What do you want? Are you here to drag us over to the gallows? It's what that stupid coward of a father of yours wants, right?"

Rinku shook his head, sending his blonde locks flying. "I may be the Crown Prince, but I don't agree with Dad's… methods…"

"Murder tactics…" Ness mumbled under his breath.

"Then what do you want?" Picho demanded, "Gold? Jewels? Our heads!?"

Rinku held up his hands to stop the flow of questions. "Hold your horses, there! No, I'm not after anything of value from you two…"

"So what do you need us for?" Pichn asked excitedly, "Spying? Killing? Burning? Hunting? ...Killing?"

"Kitchen duty?" Kirby piped up.

By this time, Rinku was back at the cell door. One by one, he inserted the keys into the lock, and one by one they failed. Once all his keys had tried but failed, he threw up his arms in frustration, letting out a cry of anguish.

"WHICH FREAKING KEY IS IT!?!?" he screamed, throwing the keys on the ground.

Picho took a step back, his fear for the prince growing with every passing second. "Uh…"

Ness squirmed uncomfortably inside his mind. "Is this guy… okay?"

Pichn grinned and pointed to a tiny key on the ring. "You have tried that one yet!"

Scowling slightly, Rinku picked up the keys and inserted the tiny one into the lock. To his great surprise, it fit perfectly. A click could be heard as he turned it and it was not long before the door of the brothers' jail cell swung wide open. Picho gaped in bewilderment at his brother, who merely shrugged.

"How did you know it was THAT key?" Kirby asked.

Pichn grinned. "I followed my gut!"

As Rinku entered the cell, a sudden burst of power seemed to radiate from him, filling the entire cell. Ness and Kirby both felt this power and for a brief moment, both were blinded by this awesome force. Neither of them had felt such power in hundreds of years and as they looked up at their savior, they thought they saw a familiar flash of sky blue from deep within Rinku's eyes. Ness was the one to gather his senses first.

"Picho… did you feel that?"

The boy raised an eyebrow. "If you mean the draft, yeah. Smelled like someone had too many beans for dinner!"

Pichn grinned sheepishly. "Well… I was hungry! And that was all they gave us to eat!"

Ness shook his head, trying his best to stay patient. "I didn't mean that. I meant… that force…"

Picho raised an eyebrow. "Force…?"

"I mean… it's just that… well… lemme take over from here…"

Before Picho could answer, he felt a sudden tug in his stomach, as if his very essence was being ripped right out of his body. Something pulled on his back, ripping out his very soul and thrusting it back deep within his mind. He passed a streak of yellow light as he was sent away, knowing full well who it was. The boy crashed landed in the crevices of his mind, his face inches away from a large pile of fake dog poop. Rubbing his head, he stood up and found himself face to face with a portal. A window to the outside world.

He saw himself. Only, it wasn't himself at the same time. His eyes, once dark brown, were now deepest navy blue. He stood taller than he usually stood and the spark of mischief that always danced around his eyes was gone. It was instead replaced with a look of grave seriousness and integrity.

"Rinku…" he saw himself say, though it was Ness's voice that came out of his vocal chords, "Rinku… you're a Guardian, aren't you?"

Both the prince and his brother jolted in surprise and turned their gaze to him. Ness noticed confusion flicker within Rinku's eyes at the sound of the suddenly changed voice. The great power radiating off of him was much stronger now, much more potent. And once again, he saw the familiar flash of sky blue within Rinku's cerulean eyes. Ness stood up straighter, his voice gaining confidence as he spoke.

"We know you are, Rinku… we know…"

"That's right," a voice piped up.

Ness was slightly surprised to hear Kirby's voice echoing in the din. The puffball sounded starved, weak even. In spite of himself, he smirked. He must've gone three whole hours without eating a thing. Pichn stepped forward, though his eyes were navy blue instead of dark brown.

"I felt that… wind thingy…" Pichn said uncertainly, Kirby's voice emerging from his mouth, "It was… really cool! And… do you have something to eat?"

Rinku was utterly shocked, his eyes darted back and forth between the two boys. Both Ness and Kirby saw how he seemed to be arguing with himself internally, as if another being had taken up residence in his mind. As they watched, they saw his eyes flicker ever so slightly from cerulean, to sky blue, and to cerulean again. It was a confusing sight indeed.

After what seemed like hours, the Crown Prince finally heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they shone sky blue in the faint torchlight. A familiar, good natured smile touched his lips when those sky blue eyes fixed themselves on first Kirby, then Ness. He opened his mouth and out flowed a voice, strong, familiar and comforting.

"Hey guys," Link said with a small chuckle, "Long time no see.

---

"Cimar…"

"Ugh… Z-Zelda…?"

His head pounded. Every muscle in his body was on fire. His knees felt like water. With a great groan, Cimar slowly opened his eyes.

For a brief moment, his vision was quite blurred. But he knew he was lying on a bed, a soft one at that. There was an entire King's Random of quilts on top of him. Only his nose was exposed to the cold castle air and there was no cheerful crackling from the fire place to warm it. Despite all the warmth that surrounded him, he shivered.

"Z-Zelda…?" he called weakly, searching his mind for the princess.

"I… I'm here…" the princess breathed back, her voice a mere whisper.

"Where am I?"

The Hylian princess tried looking around, but she found that her sharp vision seemed to be clouded by the dark shadows that seemed to linger within her guardian's mind. "I don't know… I can't see a thing…"

Memories flooded in. He remembered being in a strange room, being treated not as a prisoner or a criminal, but as an honored guest. He remembered the strange little man, the darkness of his eyes. He remembered being unable to tear his gaze away, as if some invisible force held him there. But all of that seemed far, very far away.

"Zelda... what happened...?"

The princess hung her head in shame. "I... I don't know... it was being crushed by the shadows that surrounded your mind, almost being completely blocked out by some strange form of dark magic. I tried to call out to you, but you couldn't hear me. The last thing I did before fading was..."

Cimar raised an eyebrow."Was...?"

"Was call out to Link..." she finished.

Her guardian frowned, noticing for the first time the great amount of weight upon him. "Strange... anything else?"

Zelda frowned, tring to remember the miserable time she had while surrounded by the dark shadows. "Yes... I felt something happening... Hot, scalding liquid... I felt it running down your throat..."

"Liquid?"

"Liquid," Zelda confirmed, "But never mind that now. We must concentrate on getting out of here."

Cimar shifted slightly, feeling the weight of the ten quilts upon him, almost crushing him. Though he twisted and turned, he was unable to shift the great weight off of him. He tried wriggling around and managed to free his right arm. A light sweat had formed on his brow by this time and it did not help that a great draft suddenly found itself into the room, chilling his now exposed right arm to the very bone.

"Great way to die," he muttered, trying to reach for the dagger on the nightstand next to him, "Death by Blankets..."

But though he reached and reached with all his might, his fingers fell just short of the steel weapon. A light bead of sweat trickled down his face as he strained harder and harder to reach the knife. It turned to ice before it hit the floor. Cimar's arm was freezing, as if snow had covered it all over. He bit his lip and strained a bit more.

"Cimar? Perhaps I could…"

"No need, Princess!" the Disciple of Wisdom insisted, "If I can just reach that knife, we'll both be out of here in no time!"

"Cimar, all you need is-"

"That knife," he groaned, stretching so hard his arm was ready to fall off, "I just need that knife…"

"I don't think a knife is needed to get yourself free," Zelda told him, "If you would just allow me to use some magic…"

Cimar snorted. "Magic… such things aren't needed in times like this! The tools are within reach… we just need to, well, reach them…" He strained once more for the precious knife on the nightstand.

Zelda heaved a small sigh and leaned back. "Soon enough, you'll need a bit of magic…"

She watched as her guardian reached to his very limit, his fingers just barely brushing the hilt of the dagger. She felt the searing pain in his arm, sensing as the muscles in his biceps were stretched to the very limit. For a brief moment, she felt his bringer brush against the blade of the knife. But when he tried again, his arm fell just short. He continued to stretch and strain, his cheeks flushed reds. After what seemed like hours, his arm collapsed weakly to his side, numb as can be. In Cimar's mind, Zelda let out a small chuckle.

"You win, Zelda," he moaned, "just get me outta here…"

The princess nodded. "Of course. Now see if you can raise your free hand…"

Cimar carefully flexed the fingers of his sore right hand, wincing as a shoot of pain wound its way through his veins. Though the pain did not subside, he was at least able to lift it. Just a bit…

"Now raise your hand," Zelda instructed, "And connect your essence to that of Din, Goddess of Power…"

Feeling foolish, Cimar closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt himself floating upwards, as if to the gates of Heaven itself. A great golden gate stood before him, radiating beauty and power. He watched in amazement as the golden gates swung wide open, revealing the figures of three women, all dressed in shimmering robes.

The rightmost one was garmented in robes of green, her very form bathed in a golden light. Like the other women, her facial features were blurred and she radiated such a potent aura that any mortal who felt it was filled with the great spirit of courage. The woman who stood in the center was swathed in a robe of delicate ocean blue. The aura she radiated filled Cimar with a kind of kindred spirit and as he watched, he saw the innermost secrets of the universe itself floating around her. Finally, Cimar turned his attention to the woman standing on the left. Dressed in robes of fiery red, she radiated a sort of powerful aura that was both fearful and inviting all at once. One look at her and any mortal would know that she was truly a force to be reckoned with.

As Cimar approached these three glorious women, he heard their voices. Three beautiful, musical voices that were so different yet similar all at once. There was a voice filled with courage, a tone with wisdom beyond that of any mortal, and a voice of power that radiated its potency with every word the woman spoke. Cimar fell to his knees, trying his best not to be blinded by the intense light that surrounded these goddesses.

"Cimar of Turalis," the wisdom filled voice said, "Welcome to the gates of the Sacred Realm."

"We have been waiting for you," the courageous voice added, "We, the Three Goddesses of Hyrule, Land of the Triforce."

"What do you seek of us?" the powerful voice asked, a tiny hint of finality in its tone.

"O Mighty and Awesome Goddesses," Cimar said, unsure of how to speak to the three women, "I am naught but a humble mortal in search of… erm… your divine assistance?"

The owner of the courageous voice let out a small chuckle. "Indeed, young one. We are aware of your need…"

"Then I wish to call upon the Goddess of Power, Din," Cimar announced, his voice gaining strength, "And request her aid!"

The woman in red robes stepped forward, her form shimmering as she walked. "And Din, Goddess of Power, shall grant you her aid…"

She held out her elegant hands and took his, filling his fingers with a warm power that was unlike any other in the universe. It was as if an electric spark had sprung to life, sending power through his veins. His blood turned to fire, his vision was clouded with a great white light. He found himself hurtling downwards, back to earth, back to Hyrule.

He opened his eyes. He was back in the strange, yet familiar room, still surrounded by a King's Ransom of quilts. But there was something different about him. His right hand, once numb with pain now throbbed with power and warmth, just like the Goddess Din herself. He flexed his fingers, feeling the great power course through his veins.

"Now… release it," the princess in his mind whispered, "Release the power of the Goddess Din…"

Cimar closed his eyes again. "DIN'S FIRE!!!!"

The effect was immediate. Fire, searing white, burst forth from his palm. The flames twisted themselves into the shape of a glowing, flaming orb before turning in the air and crash landing on the great layer of quilts that surrounded Zelda's guardian. At once, the top most quilt burst into flames. Using his now not as powerful right hand, Cimar covered his nose and mouth to keep from inhaling the dreaded fumes. The flames had now finished consuming the top quilt and was hard at work on burning the next one to cinders.

Zelda felt his eyes water as the smoke from the fire approached him, bringing with it a great cloud of ashes. "Hold on and try not to breathe them in!"

"Easy for you to say!" her guardian gasped, struggling under the still intense weight of the quilts, "You don't have to breathe!"

One by one, the weight of the quilts was slowly reduced by the great fire. Zelda tried to keep track of how many had gone, but the roar of the flames distracted her. Cimar's uncontrollable coughing clouded her thoughts, interrupting them at times. Though she wished desperately to help him, she was powerless when it came to preventing the ashes from entering his nose and mouth.

A tongue of flame licked her guardian's chin, causing the princess to jump in fear. Had the small flame come any closer, his hair would catch fire. She tried to sense the weight of the quilts upon her guardian. It was less now, just enough for him to quickly throw off before the fire spread. As she watched she noticed just how dangerously close to the wooden bed post the fire was. Her eyes widened in fear as the tiniest spark of fire flew up and landed on the bed post, creating a tiny ember of flame. It was now or never.

"Throw the quilt off!" she ordered, unable to keep her voice form shaking with fear, "We have to get out before the fire spreads even more!"

With a great heave, Cimar managed to throws the remaining quilts off of him, setting his clothes on fire in the process. He just barely managed to roll out of the way of the leaping flames, putting out the ones that had appeared on his body in the process. The immense canopy bed on which he was a prisoner creaked and groaned as the blaze slowly withered away the bed posts that held it up.

Cimar got up, wondering why he felt so awkward at the moment. His body, built for speed and stealth, felt heavy and muscular. It was a warrior's body he felt, not one of a being who lived in the shadows. Since when had he started working out like this? He began walking to the window, deciding that the cool night air might clear his head.

Zelda felt the awkward movements of his body as well, how each step he took was regal and proud, not fluid and smooth like he usually was. "Something… there's something wrong here…"

"You're telling me that now?" he groaned, a small scowl appearing on his face, "I feel like… like as if I've been going through one of those Hylian Military Boot Camps… what'd they give me? Steroids?"

"More like crack…" Zelda said disapprovingly, glancing at the scars and cuts that covered Cimar's right hand, "Strange… you've never been cut there before…"

Cimar glanced at his hand and frowned as well, noticing how it was larger and slightly more muscular than the hands he was accustomed to.

"I… I guess I cut myself while rolling off the bed…?"

"But you would be bleeding, not scarred," the princess pointed out.

Cimar ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what to say. Once he opened his mouth to say something, but closed it and continued walking towards the window. When he removed his hand, he also pulled out a few hairs. He froze.

The little strands of hair he pulled out were not chocolate brown, his natural hair color. Rather, they were the color of spun gold, bright as can be. Cimar and Zelda gawked at these strands in surprise, neither of them able to say a word.

Cimar was the one to act first. Gripping the hairs in his hand, he dashed over to the other side of the room. A full length mirror stood there, shining silver in the light of the still blazing fire. In a few mere leaps he was there in front of the mirror, gazing into what he hoped to be was his reflection.

"Oh goddesses…"

"This… this… impossible…"

He stood there open mouthed, unable to tear his gaze away. Not even when the bed gave one final groan and collapsed into a great burning heap of rubble did he look away. His breath came in tiny, pained pants. His knees felt like water. His heart raced faster than it had ever raced before.

In his mind, Princess Zelda of Hyrule fainted.

Prince Rinku of Hyrule gazed back at him in the mirror...

---

"Sword, cape, honor…" he mumbled to himself, "Ship, respect, kingdom, home, mask…"

He had been listing all the things he had lost since that fateful day, the day when he had suffered his greatest lost. He, one of the most feared of the Smashers, had lost to an enemy they had defeated long ago. Sure, he had had the whole army of Smashers behind him at the time, but it had been a truly golden victory, one they had celebrated for months on end. Now all he felt was a strange, hollow emptiness that followed him wherever he went.

A hollow emptiness that would take a thousand years to fill...

He never understood what had happened on that day. There had been a brief moment when he felt his knightly pride within him, his powerful arm swinging the legendary sword, Galaxia, to and fro. He remembered the thrill of the fight, the splicing of the Subspace Army left and right, and the sweet taste of victory with his every battle.

It was his pride, he thought, that could've brought his downfall. There had once been a time where he had been unable to face up to a few Primids, let alone an army of them. He was inexperienced then and it was his inexperience that allowed them to take his ship. And since that day, he had sworn to never allow that to happen again. He had trained and he had grown. It was with his brute strength and the help of allies, such as Lucario and Snake, that he was able to retake his ship. And it was with these allies that he faced off with Tabuu once and for all.

But what made it different that time? He had won that time, tasting victory so sweet that no triumph could ever match that. Why had he won the first time and lost the second?

He had been cutting through the Primids like they were made of paper. Thousands at a time threw themselves upon him and it was with his lightning quick attacks that he finished them off. His allies were with him as well, hacking and slashing away at all they could see. Tabuu was being his usual cowardly self, hanging out in the back and watching as the Smashers approached. Being the steadfast warrior he was, Meta Knight had been the first to reach him.

And the first to fall...

He remembered charging at the hateful blue man, feeling the rush of the wind around him. Galaxia flashed a deadly silver in the light Tabuu radiated, seeming to glow with its great power and potency. One slice and it would all be over, just one stab right in the middle and this menace would be gone for good.

But the blow never came, the sickening crunch of bone and who knows what else splintering under Galaxia's brute strength never came. A great flash of white light had filled the eyes of the Star Warrior, knocking him right off his feet. Pain beyond pain had filled him, seeming to rip his very being apart. And just like that, darkness engulfed him.

The next thing he knew, he had woken up in a jar in what he recognized as the Smasher's training lodge at the top of Mount Smash. The other Smashers who had come with him were there as well. He had seen Master Hand floating over him, gazing at him in what seemed like confusion mixed with pity. Before he could even ask what was going on, the giant floating hand had disappeared.

Now he was alone again, wandering the streets of the long forgotten city of Smashville, wondering what was going to happen next. Smash Mansion, the place he had come to call home loomed in the distance. But at the same time, it was not Smash Mansion.

It had been twisted, warped into the image that was Tabuu. It was completely shrouded in black, with peaked towers absolutely covered in barbed wires and spikes. The sky that surrounded this place was painted a grisly red, like the color of fresh blood. It was a castle, a fortress in which the Subspace King would hide from his enemies. Primids and many other enemies patrolled the grounds, their many gurglings echoing slightly in the stale blood scented air. The once emerald grass of the front lawn was now painted red, the coppery stench of blood wafting from them without any mercy.

Meta Knight averted his large yellow eyes from these stains of blood. As a warrior, though he was accustomed to spilled blood, it had been a hundred years since he had last fought and add a few more years to that, for the Primids had no blood and it was never spilled during the tournaments.

He soon found himself phasing through a lone window, squeezing through a tiny crack in it and emerging into a large, darkened room. Every inch from the ceiling to the floor was draped in black. The room was lit by nothing more than a few candles sitting on the nightstand, illuminating the room in a dim, eerie glow. There was a large canopy bed towards the very back, also draped in black. It was as if this room had been built for a demon of sorts, a monster who could not bear the light.

But then he saw it. It caught his eye as he looked around, taking in the dark furnishings and such of the area. It was the one splash of color in a room so blackened. The dark blue cloud of his very being trembled when he saw it, a lump forming in his throat.

It was a picture, a rather roughly drawn one no doubt, of himself. It was a crayon drawing, rather messily made and hurried. In this drawing, he was without his sword, his mask, and his cape. His true form, that of a being so similar to Kirby, gazed out at him. Kirby, he remembered, had drawn this picture, working day and night to perfect it. However, the little puffball was still young, still innocent. The only true thought he ever had in life was when the next meal was. He didn't know, didn't understand the way life worked. Perhaps he knew now.

The pink puffball had super glued this drawing to his wall, to the wall of Meta Knight's room.

Though the Star Warrior was furious when he found out, he had since then grown used to the picture of himself on the wall. He didn't know what made him not take it off, but he found that he could never bring himself to try to pry it off his wall. Kirby had worked hard to make this drawing for him of all people and he appreciated it.

The door opened, sending a draft into the room. The Star Warrior whirled on this intruder, as if he was ready to fight. But there was no need to, he remembered. He was a cloud of blue gas, completely invisible to the human eye. So he dropped his guard and waited.

"I'm not five!" a voice shouted angrily, "I don't need you in here helping me."

He was answered by the garbled speech of the Primids on the other side. With a sigh of exasperation, he entered the room and slammed the door shut. And for the first time, Meta Knight saw his face.

His first impression of this young man was that he was Dark Link, wondering what on earth the Hylian's dark side was doing here. But a closer look told him otherwise. He was tall and lean, with jet black hair and blood red eyes. His bangs were grown in such a way that his right eye was covered in a curtain of his hair. Strange markings could be seen beneath his eyes and though Meta Knight was no demon expert, he knew that these were the markings of a demonic dragon of sorts.

He wore a jet black shirt with claw- like attachments upon his shoulders, creating a look of imperial power and menace. The sleeves of his shirt reached the middle of his upper arm, emphasizing the midnight black gauntlets that covered his hands. Every inch of his clothing was black, almost blending in with the room. A sword in an over decorated sheathe hung at his side, its golden hilt shining slightly in the dim light.

The boy leaned against the door and heaved a sigh of relief as the sounds of the Primid footsteps faded away. It was not long before he bolted his door shut and collapsed on the floor, his chest heaving. Meta Knight saw the sweat shining on his brow, noticing for the first time how flushed his face was from whatever he had been doing that day. The boy closed his eyes and sighed.

"Stupid Primids…" he mumbled to himself, "Can't even have a few moments to myself with those idiots around…"

Meta Knight floated closer to him, wondering who this strange boy was. The closer he floated, the greater the pull he felt towards the boy. It was then he noticed that there was a force of some kind pulling him closer and closer, almost sucking him in like a great black hole. Before the Star Warrior could react, he was pulled right into a great dark maw, twisting and turning through tunnels at the speed of light. It was pitch black, not a sound could be heard as he zoomed through. If he still had his body, Meta Knight knew he would be quite green around the gills right about now.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of traveling through darkness, Meta Knight was spit out in the dark plain of the boy's mind. Though he could tell the boy was quite intelligent, he could also tell that he had a great many secrets to hide. Indeed as he looked on, he saw the shadows of the boy's mind, seeming to shield a great many secrets from the outside world.

The Star Warrior saw books covering every visible inch of Wrath's mind, indicating great intelligence and a love for literature. A sketchpad was tucked away in a corner, showing his artistry and his love for drawing. But still the shadows were thick around him, almost crushing him. The guardian of the Star Warrior had much to hide.

"You best speak up now," the boy murmured, surprising Meta Knight, "I know you're up there. I felt a disturbance in the air when you entered the room and I then felt that same disturbance in the deepest corner of my mind. I'm Wrath, by the way, Wrath Draconian."

The former Smasher collected himself before he spoke.

"Indeed… I see you are quite the scholar…"

Wrath shrugged.

"I suppose you can say that. My father makes me study every freaking hour of the day seven days a week! And don't get me started on how annoying those damned Primids are! They've been following me around since I was 5! It's as if they think I still don't know how to read to something! How stupid could they get!?"

"It seems like you have quite the father," Meta Knight remarked, "I am actually quite envious. You see, my own father…"

"Sh!" Wrath interrupted, suddenly spiring up and pressing his ear to the door.

Footsteps, faint as can be, could be heard going down the halls. Neither of them were able to tell which direction these footsteps were headed, but Meta Knight could feel a tiny surge of fear well up within Wrath as the steps grew louder and louder. His pulse raced, his breathing came out in tiny little pants. Louder and louder these footsteps grew until they finally stopped right in front of Wrath's door. Pressing his hands together, the boy mouthed a silent prayer, begging anyone to save him from this situation. Meta Knight's curiosity rose.

A sharp rap at the door smashed his hopes to dust. "Wrath! Wrath Draconian, open the door this instant!"

Wrath groaned slightly before removing the bolt and wrenching the door to his room open. The dark outline of a tall, foreboding figure could be seen on the other side of the door. With calm, measured steps, the figure slowly stepped into the dim candlelight of Wrath's room.

And it was with a surge of anger and hate that Meta Knight looked upon this man.

Tabuu, Lord of Subspace…

"Wrath," the blue man said quietly, his smooth voice causing the Star Warrior's anger to rise, "Wrath, my son, why did you run from me?"

Wrath turned and straightened his spine.

"I… Forgive me, father… I didn't wish to have lessons today…"

The Star Warrior was taken aback.

"Father…?"

Wrath ignored Meta Knight's presence and instead turned his attention to Tabuu, who was gazing at him with a look that was like amusement. A smile tugged at the corners of his almost nonexistent mouth. Wrath's muscled stiffened under the Subspace Lord's unwavering gaze, wondering if he had done something wrong. There was always something about that gaze that struck fear in his heart, always something that would make him do anything his father told him, lest he wished to face the consequence.

Tabuu moved towards one of Wrath's windows, the same one Meta Knight had entered through not long ago and gestured for the boy to join him. After hesitating for a moment, Wrath carefully stepped forward. With a sudden flick of his arm, Tabuu wrenched open the black curtains that covered the window and allowed the light of day to shine through. Though it was not that bright, Wrath reeled in pain and flinched, trying his best to hide his pain from the somewhat gray light.

"Just look at you, my son," Tabuu laughed amusedly, "You probably haven't seen the sun in a week!"

"Months…" Wrath corrected under his breath, "Several months…"

In his mind, Meta Knight raised an eyebrow. Not seeing the sun for months? Even the greatest of all warriors must submit to training in the sun once in a while. It allowed for more time to spar with other worthy opponents.

"Come here, Wrath," Tabuu ordered once the boy was done cringing, "Come here and gaze out the window."

Still wincing slightly, Wrath carefully approached the window, as if it would fly out and bite him on the nose if he provoked it. With a shake of his head, Tabuu grabbed the boy by his shirt collar and dragged him over to the window, slamming his face against the cold, dirty glass in the process. Down below, the familiar sights of the blood stained grass and the disgusting streets of Smashville could clearly be seen. Meta Knight felt his stomach lurch as he saw this.

This wasn't right.

"Tell me, Wrath… what do you see?" the blue man asked.

Wrath swallowed and opened his mouth, choosing his words with great care.

"I see… blood… a lot of it…"

Tabuu's smiled widened.

"Ah… yes, there is quite a lot of blood… remind me to have the Primids clean up the riffraff later…"

"Blood that you spilled." Meta Knight said angrily, though he knew Tabuu could not hear him.

"This is your kingdom…" Tabuu continued, sweeping his arm at the great mess of blood and decay before them, "Someday, I shall tire of ruling over this great world and when I am through, I shall abdicate and you shall rule in my place. My son, you are a great warrior, an excellent scholar… you shall bring this kingdom to even greater heights that I can only imagine. You, my son, shall be the beginning of the Age of Wrath…"

The Star Warrior sensed a great disturbance in the mind of his guardian, the intense thirst for power lashing out like a tiger against its cage. The boy was tempted by the prospect of all he could gain from being King of Smashville, the great riches and power that would come with being king. It was a glorious life, but a dark path to take.

Shink!

He knew that noise. It was the sound of a sword being whipped out of its sheathe. Silver suddenly flashed through midair as a single blade, sharp and deadly, whistled through the air, aimed right at the back of Wrath's throat. Had he been an inexperienced swordsman, this blade would have sliced right through Wrath's throat. But the boy was no novice.

In one swift, fluid motion, Wrath had his sword unsheathed and brought it up just in time to block the near fatal blow. Tabuu smirked at the sight of the two blades crossed. Though he was quite surprised that this attacker had suddenly appeared out of thin ear, he took care not to show it. Though the blade of this would be assassin was quick, Wrath's motions and jabs were swifter.

Clink!

The two blades met with great force, enough to cause both wielders to wobble a bit on their feet. Wrath, being the first to regain his senses, lunged for his antagonist, his blade aimed straight for his throat. The attacker, dressed all in black and masked, managed to block the boy's blow just in time with his blade, but was too slow to stop the oncoming onslaught of slashes Wrath delivered as soon as the two steel blades touched.

With a flurry of silver light, Wrath proceeded to slash at his opponent at lightning speed, eventually forcing the mask to fall right off. The attacker was of average height and build with sharp facial features and sea green eyes. He looked just like any other rebel who had so pathetically died on the gallows. Meta Knight felt the arrogant pride well up in his guardian, shaking his head as a smirk appeared on his face. Arrogance was a truly dishonorable thing for a swordsman to feel. His heart sank as the arrogance took control of Wrath's body, showing no mercy to his opponent.

Wrath lunged like a tiger, jabbing his powerful blade right through the man's arm. With a cry of pain, his antagonist wrenched the sharp blade out, his blood painting the dark wood floor. Wrath smirked as the precious flecks of crimson slowly spilled from the wound he had inflicted. A truly pathetic swordsman.

His opponent used this chance to aim a stab at Wrath's chest. With a small yawn, Wrath grabbed his arm and twisted the deadly weapon right out of his hand. It skittered to the floor. With another flick of his wrist, Wrath send his sword sailing through the air and into the man's stomach.

'AAAHHHHHH!!!!!!" the rebel howled, falling to his knees an0d clutching his stomach, "You… you… monster…"

Wrath smirked as his opponent coughed up blood.

"Monster? Me? You were the one who tried killing me, might I add…"

"Monster…" the man spat, "Coward… you hide… you hide behind you daddy… all day… don't you…?"

Tabuu let out a cold, cruel laugh.

"Hide? Didn't you just see what marvelous swordsmanship my son has shown you? To think that a warrior like Wrath would dare hide behind me while he is such a prestigious warrior? You underestimate him, Pathetic One…"

The man whirled on Tabuu, a growl escaping his lips.

"And you… you, encouraging this kid to spill human blood!? What kind of father are you!?"

Tabuu laughed again, causing Meta Knight's anger to rise.

"A father who also happens to be a king!"

With that, he grabbed the man by his collar and held him aloft raising him about ten feet in the air.

"Wrath, my son, it is your call! What shall I do with this traitor?"

For the briefest moment, indecision flashed within Wrath's mind, giving Meta Knight a chance to finally talk to him. Summoning all the strength he had, the Star Warrior opened his mouth, trying to see if he could turn the tide on Wrath's decision.

"He is correct, you know," he pointed out, "Taking the life of a fellow human, a human who has never wronged you is indeed monstrous."

"Shut up," Wrath growled, "I'm not some five year old you can baby around, you know!"

"Wrath?" Tabuu asked, raising an eyebrow.

The indecision was back. Meta Knight sensed the great conflict within his guardian. He saw how the loyalty to his father's reputation, yet the overwhelming guilt of taking yet another life ate at the boy's soul, clouding his heart in a storm of confusion and rage.

"Wrath... do the right thing... please..."

"The gallows," Wrath said in a tight voice, his loyalty to his father winning over the ongoing battle in his heart, "Send him to the gallows."

Tabuu nodded, a smile tugging at his mouth.

"Very well, young prince…" He turned to leave, the man writhing in his strong grip.

"COWARD!!!!" the man bellowed, fixing his sea green eyes on Wrath, "PATHETIC PRINCE!!! USURPER!!!"

And there it was again. The pang of guilt gave one final spark of life. For the smallest moment, Meta Knight felt hope rise within him. He watched as Wrath glared back at the man and tightened his jaw, his muscles stiff.

"Wait, Father," Wrath said, his voice even tighter than before.

Tabuu stopped in his tracks and turned around, never relinquishing his grip on the traitor.

"Yes…?"

"Send him to the guillotine…"

Tabuu smiled and bowed low. "Of course…"

The Star Warrior's hopes were dashed once again.

"Wrath... you fool..."

---

Pit sighed. The moon was beautiful tonight.

Psyche and Heather had been traveling for quite a few days now, Heather's wounds still healing. She had gained quite a few deep gashes from the bite of Link's arrows and had it not been for Wolf's intervention and Pit's rescue, she probably would not have survived and even then she walked with a slight limp, but both he and Wolf had assumed it was because of her metallic leg.

He watched as she turned over in her sleep, sweating slightly as a bad dream of sorts overtook her. According to Wolf, she had one every night and they were always about her deep, dark past. Because the Smasher never talked about his guardian's past, Pit was completely clueless about the mysterious Heather Wolfon.

"Nice night."

Pit turned around and found himself face to face with a familiar gray cloud of smoke. He watched as this gray cloud twisted and writhed until a shape appeared, followed by detail and even clothes. The ghostly form of Wolf O' Donnell floated before him, a scowl on his face. The angel smiled sadly as he too took up the ghostly form of his old body. He would do anything to have his body again.

"Nice, but it would be better if I actually had my body back," Wolf remarked, his scowl deepening as he failed to snap a branch in half with his once powerful claw.

"At least you have an actual 'Guardian'," Pit said, casting a rather irritable glance as Psyche, "Don't even get me started on how selfish, lazy…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the Star Wolf commander interrupted, rolling his eyes, "On how bad she is. I. Get. It."

He said those last three words with great emphasis, as if he was talking to a child. Pit crossed his arms and turned his back on his fellow Smasher, turning his attention back to the great glowing orb in the sky.

"You shouldn't be so hard on her," Wolf told him, breaking the icy silence that had fallen between them.

Pit scowled. "You shouldn't be so soft on her…"

Wolf's temper rose at his words. "What's wrong with you?!? What's with the Mr. 'I'm Way Better than my Guardian' act?!? You used to be one of the… the…"

"The what?" the angel demanded, whirling on Wolf.

"The…" Wolf struggled to find the proper word.

"Yes?" Pit raised an eyebrow.

"The… the nice kids!" Wolf yelled, finally finding the word he was looking for, "Yeah! You used to be one of those weird little goody two shoes kids that never broke the rules and always listened to the old hand, even though he was always kinda loony…"

"He was not!" Pit snapped, "He was just… impulsive…"

Wolf raised an eyebrow. "You call spending thousands of Smash Coins planting pink petunias in every available garden space when you could use it to actually pay for a good chef who's NOT named Bowser impulsive?"

Pit hesitated. "Okay… recklessly impulsive…"

"Impulsive or not, you still listened to him and always was the good little boy. Blah, blah, blah," Wolf pointed out, rolling his eyes, "My point is, what happened to that kid? Ever since you got that guardian of yours, you've been acting like it's the freaking end of the world!"

"Because it IS the end of the world," Pit snarled, "I can't believe the fate of the entire world rests on… on HER shoulders!"

"Hers and all the other guardians," the Star Wolf commander said patiently, "Let's not forget that she ain't the only guardian in the bunch…"

"But out of all the humans, I get stuck with HER!" Pit ranted, "Everyone else's guardian seems to be someone special or something! I mean, from the last time I was on Mount Smash, I heard Samus's guardian is a former Bounty Hunter of Tabuu! Link told us that his guardian is Hyrule's Prince…"

"Hyule's corrupted prince," Wolf corrected, "Riley or whatever his name is was corrupted the last time Fairy Boy talked to us."

"Ike has that mercenary guy, Yoshi has that girl who survived for a really long time, Pikachu's got that… that 'blessed' girl from the asylum, and look at you! You've got a wicked awesome, sometimes psychopathic, warrior… girl… person…!" Pit continued, ignoring Wolf's interruption, "My point is, they're all special in one way or another! She's not! She's just some random slave girl who hasn't done a thing! Who…"

"Who managed to evade Marth," Wolf finished.

Pit shook his head. "She only escaped because I stepped in. Otherwise, she'd be dead…"

"So you're saying you're jealous of everyone else."

"Am not!" Pit yelled, looking aghast, "I'm just saying why am I stuck with the laziest, weakest, most usele-"

Wolf had had enough. His anger overtaking him, he strode up to where the angel stood and grabbed him by his opaque toga, shaking him in the process.

"Listen, you! I don't know where the hell you left your brain when Tabuu stuffed you in that jar, but you've got to stop wallowing in your own self guilt and listen! I don't know where you've been for the past three days, but I do know what Heather's been doing! Look at her!"

With amazing strength and speed for nothing more than a ghostly shade of his former self, Wolf wrenched Pit downwards and forced his gaze upon Heather. At first glance, Pit saw nothing different about the girl, save for how her long light brown and black hair was even more unruly and wind swept than the day they first met her.

But a closer look told him everything...

Her arms, her legs, her waist...everything was thin. Her skin had paled, paled to such a degree that she was white as a sheet. She looked weak, as if she had been starving herself for months. She was thin, almost skeletal as she stirred in her sleep, revealing her cracked and dried lips. Over the course of three days, she had been reduced from a fearful warrior to a mere skeleton, just about ready to crumble to dust. She looked as if she would crumble to dust if an enemy so much as tapped her.

With a sudden lurch, Wolf wrenched Pit back up. "Did you see that? DID YOU SEE THAT?!"

Pit's stomach squirmed uncomfortably. "Well, yeah but…"

"She hasn't eaten a thing for the past three days!" his fellow Smasher said angrily, his every word tight and pained, "For three days, she's been giving up her food… her OWN food… to feed your guardian!"

Pit looked down at Heather, taking in her skeleton like appearance and her cracked lips. He then turned to Psyche, who, he noticed, seemed just a bit rosier than when he had first met her. Though she was still stick thin, she slept with a look on her face that indicated a person who, though not fed enough, had been fed more than they had for years. A small smile was curled upon Psyche's lips, illuminating her grimy face. Pit turned away, his heart torn in two.

"I… I didn't know…" he said weakly, casting a sideways glance at his guardian's sleeping form, "I didn't know how much… how much your guardian sacrificed because of her…"

Wolf heaved a heavy sigh and turned his gaze to the moon.

"Heather's the kind of girl who's just so… so selfless! I don't get WHY she's like that! I mean, she's killing herself… she's killing ME! But… but she saw how weak that guardian of yours was and I guess she just snapped. Mike…"

"Psyche," Pit corrected.

"Whatever. Psyche didn't want any of her food, but Heather kept pushing it and pushing it at her until she finally gave in. I told her… I told her and told her that I needed her body to keep me alive… my life force is tied to hers now that we both share a body and mind. But she didn't listen… she almost never listens to me when I say my life is tied to hers…"

"But why didn't you stop her?"

"Because once that woman sets her mind on something, there's no getting her back! As much as I would rather have that guardian of yours die first so that Heather's and my own life line can go on for just a teeny bit longer, I had to let Heather do her thing! It was either she slowly give Psyche all the food or she'll jump off a cliff and let Psyche keep the food! And let's face it! I wanted to live for just a LITTLE bit longer! It's partially the only reason why I keep Heather around… she's got my life tied to hers. Otherwise, I think I'd rather possess someone like… say… Tabuu himself? A high ranking general in the army? But nope! I'm here working with the goody two shoes!"

"You were missing during Subspace War I…" Pit mused.

Wolf shrugged. "I didn't want to unnecessarily hurt myself. Besides, those two Star Fox idiots were on your team. Who wants to work with THOSE guys?"

Before Pit could answer, a strange force blew through the area. His senses on high alert, he looked around. Wolf felt this force as well and though he looked everywhere, his sharp eye sight was unable to detect even the slightest trace of the source of the strange force. Concern for his guardian welled up inside the angel as he floated closer to her. Had Wolf's words truly changed how he felt about her? He doubted it. Still unable to decide, Pit melted into Psyche's mind and waited.

"Psyche… Psyche…"

Pit felt his guardian jolt awake, her hand reaching for his bow. He felt a strange presence before her, a presence that seemed to thrum with life, yet at the same time, it was filled with sadness. The smell of death hung in the air. Psyche lifted her eyes to gaze upon the intruder.

And gasped.

In front of her stood a boy, a boy about her age. He was thinly built with shoulder length brown hair and deep brown eyes. a golden spark could be seen dancing within these eyes and his smile was so white it rivaled the stars. He was dressed in rags, the garb of the slaves in the factories. When Psyche's eyes met his, his smile widened and he held out his hand.

"Whoa!" Pit shouted, diving out of the way as a whole avalanche of memories filled the girl's mind.

There she was, with this boy, playing together in a courtyard of sorts. Then another memory popped up and the two were both on their knees, side by side, while a whip cracked above them. Another featured Psyche bedridden with fever while the boy stood over her, applying a wet cloth to her burning forehead. On and on these memories flowed, and over and over he saw his name.

Austin…

"Y-You're…" Psyche stammered, "You… you can't… you…"

Pit pushed the memories aside, just in time to see the boy, Austin, kneel before his guardian until they were eye level. "I'm what?"

His eyes twinkled with pleasure at those words. Despite this, Pit couldn't help but sense something… off about him. Aside form the fact that he was supposed to be dead, there seemed to be an unearthly glow to his skin, as if he were made of light. In spite of the rags he wore, he seemed well kept, too well kept for a slave of any kind. His hair was brushed, his face cleaned, and his form held high. His eyes seemed like closed shudders and though a golden spark danced in the very center of each of them, the spark lacked warmth and life. There was just something Pit sensed that wasn't right about the boy, but Psyche seemed completely blind to these signs.

Rather, she had sprung up and leaped into the boy's arms, feeling the warmth of his body against hers.

"Psyche…" Pit said uneasily, "This isn't right… no one can come back from the dead…"

If his guardian had heard him, she gave no sign. She only squeezed her lost friend all the more tired. Another sign rang alarms in Pit's mind. His body was just a tiny bit too cold for a natural human's.

"I thought… I thought you were dead…" Psyche murmured, silvery tears rolling down her cheeks.

Austin paused for a brief moment before answering. "Yes… well… not really. You see, those Smashers and Tabuu aren't bad at all! They're just really, really misunderstood. See, what happened was that Ike, Marth, and Roy were sent to take us to this… this place! Yeah, it's really cool and…"

Something from deep within Psyche's mind shouted a warning to her. A voice? Come to think of it, her old friend was acting pretty strange. Frowning slightly, she reached up and touched his cheek. Soft, warm…

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked, "You don't usually… act this way…"

Austin shook his head, sending his brown locks flying. "You worry too much. Come on, I have to show you where I've been all this time."

He held out his hand. Psyche hesitated for a moment, searching her mind for Pit's strangely reassuring presence. When she did not sense him, she gingerly took her friend's hand and allowed him to lead her out of the clearing.

"PSYCHE!!!" Pit yelled, not understanding why she had not sensed his presence, "Hello? Helloooooo? This is a really, really bad idea! Can't you hear me? Psyche? Psyche?!?"

Up in the treetops, Wolf watched with wide eyes as Pit's guardian stood up and walked away, seemingly being led by some invisible force. Her hand was outstretched, her fingers entwined with what seemed like the air itself. But he saw how her great brown eyes were wide open, as if she were seeing something no one else did. He frowned. Why wasn't Pit stopping her?

Looking beyond the treetops in the direction she was headed, he saw her destination. A great cliff overlooking the sea. Whatever force it was seemed to be dragging the girl straight to the cliff. And once there, she would most likely fall to her doom.

Something had to be done!

Spurring into action, Wolf raced down to Heather's body, intending to wake her right away. But then he stopped, inches away from his guardian's ear. A conflict arose within him, creating a storm of confusion within his mind. Why did it matter to him if Pit and his guardian plunged off a cliff? That would mean Heather would stop giving up her food and he could live! The angel was certainly not a friend of his so why would he care?! Turning tail, he began to float back up to the trees to watch the show. But as he neared the top, a small pang in his heart stopped him. Despite his annoying complaints of his guardian, Pit had been a welcome companion after a hundred years of loneliness. Though Heather was a wonderful conversationalist, she could never speak to him when she slept and having no body of his own, there was no need for Wolf to sleep.

Wolf looked back at Psyche's retreating figure, watching as she inched closer and closer to the cliff. She still seemed to be dragged by an invisible force of sorts, her feet lightly skimming the dewy grass. He looked back at Heather, taking in her frail frame and her cracked lips. He sighed.

"I better get karma points for this..." he muttered, diving straight down.

He slammed into Heather's mind with full force, scraping his chin on the ground. After dusting himself off, he nodded a greeting to Black Heather, who was still struggling against her chains and took a deep breath.

It was now or never...

"HEATHER!!!! WAKE UP!!!!"

His guardian sprang to her feet, crouching into a fighting position. When she saw no enemies around, she gave Wolf a small scowl before looking to her right, where Psyche slept.

She saw the empty blankets...

"Psyche?" Heather said worriedly, grabbing the grubby blankets and searching through them, "Psyche?! Psyche! Where are you!?"

"That's what I woke you up for!" Wolf said indignantly, "She's about to sleep walk off a cliff!"

Heather immediately whipped her head in the direction of the cliff. Sure enough, there was Psyche's dark silhouette against the night sky, running in the direction of the cliff. Without another thought, Heather dashed after her, her metal leg clanking a bit as she hit trees and sticks.

But though Heather moved as fast as she could, Psyche was much faster on her feet. Cursing the metal leg she had received as a result of Tabuu's endless tortures, she tried to increase her speed, only to trip over a rather large tree root and fall. The cuts she had received from Link's arrows were freshly opened, covering her face in blood. She looked up in despair as she watched her companion stop at the very edge of the cliff, as if she were listening to something. Her heart hammering, Heather got up and followed Psyche, though her metal leg hindered her greatly.

"Psyche!" she yelled, inching closer, "Psyche NO! DON'T DO IT!"

For a brief moment, the girl's eyes flashed towards her, full of confusion and raging emotions. But just as the two young women's eyes locked, she diverted her attention to an invisible force in front of her, once again listening to whatever it was saying. Then, with a nod to this invisible force, Psyche took a few steps forward...

...and she tumbled right off the cliff...

Heather lunged forward to stop her, but she was too late. The few strands of the girl's hair she managed to grasp went through between her fingers as her traveling companion fell. Wolf saw Heather's panicked thoughts swirl around him as her fear grew, her heart racing even more than it did before. Memories suddenly flashed back of all the friends she had dying before her eyes, friends and innocent people who she couldn't save...

...including her own family.

But then it faded into an idea and Wolf saw it. It was an idea that could cost both Psyche's and Heather's own lives. An idea that could cost him his life as well.

"Heather NO!" he commanded, trying to hold the stubborn woman back.

With a quick spring to her step, Heather closed her eyes and dashed forward. The wind whistled in her ears, her hair flew out behind her like a sheet of light brown and black. Tears stung her eyes though she did not know why and for a single, heart stopping moment, she stood there, suspended over the edge of the cliff.

But then, she did not feel a single regret as she leaned forward…

… and took the plunge.

---

He leaned over his battle plans, his tongue between his teeth. It had been three days since the last time the enemy chose to strike. The camp was peaceful and quiet. Too quiet.

He planned to unleash his army on the enemy camp the next day, when they least expected it. While most of his troops would engage his foes on the front lines, he would lead a group around a river to the backlines and surprise the enemy in their camp. The young man smiled in satisfaction. It was a flawless plan.

"Sir?" a woman's voice asked.

He turned around and found himself face to face with Her. The army commander wet his lips, his heart hammering as she approached. Her dress gently brushed the ground, her long blue hair flowing in the wind. As was usual with a Sage such as herself, she was dressed simply, grasping a book of spells in one hand. She smiled at him as she advanced towards him, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. He gulped. She had a nice smile…

"Sir…" she breathed, her cheeks reddening becomingly.

He smiled at her in response. "Lilina?"

He relished the way her named rolled so easily off his tongue. Brushing her hair to one side, Lilina fixed her deep eyes on his, her expression serious. The way her gaze seemed to pierce him always made him rather uncomfortable, as if she could see into his very soul. But it was a quality of hers that he also enjoyed, especially since he could keep no secrets from her.

Lilina frowned and for a moment, he saw tears in her eyes. "Oh… so you are going…"

He gulped. "W-Well… yeah… I mean, it's a really great honor to be invited to this tournament and everything…"

"I know…" Lilina said miserably, "It proves that you're one of the greatest warriors in the universe, or something special like that…"

A lump appeared in his throat. "Lilina…"

She shook her head, smiling up at him with her eyes. "I'm alright, really… I understand how important this tournament is to you. It's just that… I'll miss you…"

His bottom lip trembled at the thought of one whole year away from her. "And… I'll miss you, Lilina…"

For a brief moment, she seemed to wish to say something more, but then she turned away.\

"Well, I'll just leave then…"

She turned her back on him and headed for the exit, her head hung in sorrow. He mentally cursed himself for letting her go just like that and opened his mouth, as if to say something. But he knew that words weren't enough. He stretched out his arm and grabbed her shoulder, pulling the girl back in. His heart hammered as his skin made contact with hers, his chest heaved.

"Lilina," he gasped, "You… you wanted to say something more, didn't you?" When Lilina was silent, he pressed her against his chest. "Tell me… what's wrong?"

He felt her hot tears rolling down her cheeks, wishing to cry as well. She pulled away from him and fixed him with those pure, innocent eyes. Then, she took a deep breath to steady herself and she spoke.

"Sir… I'm sorry about the other day."

The commander frowned, confusion lining his thoughts. "The other day?"'

"I was on some nostalgia trip, remember?" Lilina explained, wiping away her tears, "We were in a war… of course things wouldn't be the same…"

A small smiled curled up on his lips as he gently cupped the appealing heart shaped face before him. "Well, some things will…"

"Like what?"

He leaned down so their foreheads touched, inhaling the sweet scent of primroses that simply radiated off of the beautiful woman before him. "I'll always be at your side and… and you'll be at mine…"

Lilina's face was a great mix of joy and shock. "Huh…?"

"We can't go back to the past, but we can shape the future," he continued, "Then we should work to make a future the same as, or even better than the past, right?"

Lilina let out a small giggle at his words. Puzzled, he gently let go of her face and instead placed his hands on her shoulders. Her tears were gone now and she smiled at him with a radiance that could rival that of the sun. She was a long ways away from the girl he knew when he was young.

"Sir, you're showing off," she chided in between giggles.

Fear swept through him at the thought of his arrogance. "D-Do you think so? Yeah… I was thinking that didn't sound like myself…"

She placed one of her slim fingers on his lips. "But…. Thanks…"

When she removed her finger, he pulled her closer, gazing deep into her dark eyes. "Lilina…"

She placed her head on his chest. "We'll always be together… right?"

For a brief moment, he paused, as if considering the thought. "… Of course…"

---

"We'll always be together… right?"

"… Of course…"

He shivered. Those words had haunted him for the past hundred years. When he had returned from the tournament that one summer a century ago, they had celebrated. Just him and Lilina by his side. Long walks in the orchards, swimming in the lakes, cuddling by the fire at night, those were his fondest memories of the summer.

But what did she think when he did not return to her the summer after that? Was she angry? Hurt? Depressed?

His form shook with anger as his tormented mind produced each and every thought Lilina could have had when he did not return. What if she didn't care? What if she found a new man to love?

He hated that thought most of all. It ripped at him, gnawing at his mind and soul. It was truly a wonder why he hadn't yet gone insane.

Lightning crackled...

He didn't care.

His jar was lifted up and up...

He didn't care.

The container was slammed against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces...

He didn't care.

A strange force pulled him out into the world in a flurry of fiery orange smoke...

He didn't care.

His fellow Smashers hissed and cheered at his departure...

He didn't care.

Lilina's hurt, disappointed face floated in front of him, tears shining on her pale cheeks...

...he did care.

*is snoring on top of a huge pile of books*

Pit: …. *pokes* Uh… okay… well, it looks like she won't be able to close this chapter, so I will. Thanks for reading the latest chapter and… um…

Link: And sorry for the late update. She had exams, her story for Pikana's contest and she also remembered that there's another story she's been neglecting and had to at least get started on it.

Zelda: She knows this chapter is too long and all the information is a bit hard to swallow. So visit her website and click on the Link…

Link: Not this Link!

Zelda: Click on the link that says "Guardians' Reports". It'll give you reports on how each revealed guardian is doing. It will be updated as often as the chapters to this story will come out. There's also an arcade and a section dedicated to the biographies of each guardian. But just remember that some sections, especially the biographies, will contain spoilers.

Pit: www(dot)pitftw(dot)webs(dot)com. That's her website. Also, there's a link on her profile if you're too lazy to copy and paste. That's all we've got to say! See ya!