They still had no exact confirmation that this was the end of their journey, and yet upon watching the door fall open, Tya couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. She was exhausted, and she could only assume Link was as well. She had no idea what time it was, but it felt like it had been night for ages. There was no going home right now, but just sitting down would do just as well. She was hungry, she was tired, she had taken another sip of water but it was only one in her complete array of ailments. It just felt like they were close. Maybe it was hope talking, maybe she was right, but she was eager to get through the door. Still, having learned her lesson from the multiple rooms they'd been locked into, she followed a step or two behind Link, keeping herself on his shield side as he had directed numerous times thus far.

The room they opened into seemed to be a smaller foyer of sorts, and that only backed her theory that this may have been the main entrance to the place. She did still wonder, however, why it would be sealed from the inside if that was the case. Among other things, like how could it possibly be the end if it was the beginning?

Despite her exhaustion and her doubt, she was still eager to find out what lay on the other side. The deep, untouched wilderness they'd just barely begun to venture into whilst examining the other known entry? A pathway to a new destination? Something else old and lovely that she could just feel old life in?

A bright light drowned her vision.

Her eyes shut tight in an attempt to shield them from the sudden contrast against the dimly lit interior. She flinched back at the sharp shattering sound of metal to metal and popping sparks.

Her hands shot to cover her ears on instinct, an attempt to block out the loud, sharp sound. Her vision was dotted with splotches of white when she reopened her eyes, seeking out Link as her immediate thought was that he'd been set upon by something else; that the sound of metal on metal was that of his blade against another's. She was both relieved and disturbed to find that this assessment had been wrong.

Link rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand only to similarly flinch into action upon seeing another figure in the waning light. There was something swelling in her chest that she couldn't quite identify as her eyes readjusted to find the cool hues over a humanoid silhouette. A Hylian?

It wasn't skeletal, nor was it ghostly. As the light settled, she could see his skin was ashen and his hair was a pure, beautiful white, tinted with the blues of cold to her. Was he Hylian?

Whatever he was, he was armed, and while she'd been wondering over whether or not Hylians still remained on the surface, Link had immediately readied his blade and his shield on the chance they needed to defend themselves.

They hadn't made a sound, not intentionally. Tya hadn't, but Link's movements had. Either way, they'd garnered the attention of the creature before them. The thin black blade in his grip hesitated on another strike as he seemed to take notice of the presence, uttering a small 'hm' as it clicked. It was almost theatrical, the way he reacted, like he'd been waiting for this moment to make a show.

Slowly, he lowered the weapon and as it fell to his side, it was taken up in black mist, carried out on a nonexistent breeze.

He faced them, pale lips curving into a smile as his black eyes examined first Link and then Tya.

"I hadn't expected two," he mused. Past his painted lips, the smile on which was growing ever devious. Tya could see sharp fanged teeth that set his words to come out with the slightest hiss. There was something else in them… Something unfamiliar.

Gorko had had one as well. A different way of pronouncing the same words.

It was.. Strange. Yet interesting.

The desire to know in Tya's chest was churning, mixing with a dread that was, at first, the familiar heavy weight of impending doom. But as the unfamiliar man cocked his head to the side, furrowing his shaven brow, she realized that, no, it was much worse.

She let out a breath, steady only because it was forced, and reached a hand to set on Link's arm, not in the general restriction, but rather, an unneeded warning. He glanced back at her, nodding his head with understanding which prompted the man to pucker his lips into a pout.

"A conversation I don't get to be involved in? I do so hate being ignored," his words were punctuated with a grin that allowed his fangs to better be seen in that moment. "To think!" he said. "I was so eager to speak with you after I learned my tornado didn't rip you to shreds!"

Link recoiled some, his grip on the hilt of the goddess sword tensing as he narrowed his eyes at the man. His thoughts, Tya voiced by snapping, her tone heavy with accusation: "You did that?"

He had turned in the brief few seconds it took for the sentiment to sink into their tired minds, to look back at the second door that he stood before- a more intricately carved golden artwork that radiated with light. A larger version of the sealed door they'd tried earlier and failed to enter. Upon hearing Tya speak, he looked back at her, seemingly appalled, and it took a second for Tya to read in his expression that it wasn't because of her words. The way he looked at her was as if he hadn't anticipated she'd dare to speak.

Whether the thought was accurate or not, she couldn't help but be offended by the look in his eye; the absolute disrespect that slowly melted into distaste.

"You should really consider better controlling those that serve you," he said to Link. The comment was so nonchalant and unexpected that the pair were both left in confused silence while the man continued. "Oh well, oh well, I suppose my curiosity of how you survived was only secondary. To answer your question yes, I was the one that plucked Her Majesty from her safe little perch in the clouds, and now," he breathed his last word, a gloved hand raising to hover over the ornamental engravings on the gold door. His next words were punctuated, each with hiss that held such a cruel finality in them: "here. She. is…"

Tya felt her breath leave her lungs and struggled in her growing anticipation to get it back. It had been true- Bucha hadn't lied. Fi hadn't lied. Zelda was here- they just… Needed to get to her.

Her gaze flickered to the door. She couldn't get to it, not with him there. It didn't take someone skilled in observation to tell that he wasn't friendly. That his tone was the poor makings of a sheep's disguise over a rabid wolf.

He made a sound. A hmph as he turned back, flipping his hair in the process. She caught the briefest glimpse of a black diamond on his cheek, stark against the ashy grey of his skin, before the snow white of his bangs fell back into place. "I think you've infected me with your terrible manners," he said. "Here I am, so caught up in your impolite behavior that I seem to have slipped up and carried on with some of my own." With a hand to his chest in feigned sincerity, he said "allow me to introduce myself. I am the Lord who presides over this land that you look down upon; My name is Ghirahim."

Where normally either may have been inclined to offer up their names in response, both Tya and Link stayed quiet. Every inch of Ghirahim screamed predator, even if his words were technically polite. Her skin prickled with her wariness and judging by the way Link's grip on the Goddess Sword's hilt had been intermittently tightening and loosening with anticipation, he felt it too.

In the silence that ensued, they stood at an impasse, both parties seemingly waiting for the other to make a move.

It was Link's patience who won in the end.

With a snap of his cold, lithe fingers, Ghirahim was gone in a burst of mist and diamonds.

They were kicked into action.

Link moved back, forcing Tya to move until both of them were backed tight against the wall. His body was a shield of muscle in front of her own that fear had almost made her lean into, but common sense kept her put. The palms of her hands flattened against the cool stone, soothing the desire to ignite with a dull ache.

Tya hadn't even known that Ghirahim had reemerged when the sound of metal pierced the foyer's silence. She'd been unable to see past Link, but the sharp twang of metal suggested something had hit his shield. There was dread at the fact that they'd been attacked, but even more at the fact that she hadn't heard anything hit the ground after ricocheting off the face of Link's shield. Even if whatever it was had bypassed the protection and lodged itself somewhere in her companion's frame, he didn't seem at all fazed as he struck forward with an outward swipe of his blade.

The near harmonic sound of it cutting through the air was abruptly shut down with a hollow thud. The new space between herself and Link's back allowed her to see that Ghirahim stood just in front of Link- far too close for her liking. Whatever lay between them, she couldn't see, but the sudden fear in Link's expression further stoked her own. She pushed off the wall to dart to the side instead, making distance between herself and the fray. Ghirahim's predatory black gaze followed her with too much calmness for the situation he'd caused, and the small quirk to one corner of his lips said all of this was merely entertainment to him.

Again, her palms flattened against the stone, trying to find comfort in the pain of her flames being suffocated. But as Link yanked back, she understood what had happened and why he had been so afraid.

Ghirahim held the Goddess Sword in a grip that Link, despite trying with all of his strength, couldn't break. In the span of only a few seconds, the Goddess Sword clattered to the worn stone, skidding some feet away from the both of them, and Link himself stumbled to the side with the blunt force of a backhanded slap.

The cry of pain that left him as he was struck made her heart ache and her fire roil. The heat in her hands had neutralized the cold comfort of the wall at her back, leaving so little in the way of her ignition. Fire burst against the stone in a heated orange plume, and on instinct, she pulled away like she needed to avoid burning the place down. In that moment, it didn't occur to her that there was little else to ruin in a temple that had already fallen decades ago.

Link scrambled to right himself, gritting his teeth against the blood that now stained them. His lip was split, trickling crimson down his chin, but he didn't have even a second of time to care about such a minor injury when he'd been so abruptly disarmed.

His shield still at his front, he kicked out again, aiming for one of Ghirahim's legs in hopes of throwing him off balance. The fact that he'd righted himself had drawn Ghirahim back to him before he'd even seemed to take notice of the fire that had poured from the damsel in distress now at his back. The light of her flame mingled with that of the golden door, leaving it an unknown threat to the Demon Lord. But only up until it splashed over his form in a badly coiled ball, the hasty energy it contained causing the briefest stumble in his stance.

It was all Link needed to leap to the side and swipe the Goddess Sword off the ground, but in that second, Ghirahim swept a hand out toward her. The air split with the sound of whizzing projectiles as a row of small knives shot for her. Again, her reaction time proved too slow as she rolled against the wall to avoid them only to be caught in the shoulder and along her cheekbone. The sharp sting of a clean cut came first, her body not yet registering the more detrimental knife lodged in her shoulder. That pain only came when she drew one hand to rest over her cheek and cup against the blood.

A sharp gasp left her, drowned by the sound of metal on metal- a new blade in Ghirahim's grasp clashing with the Goddess Sword without the Demon Lord even having turned to look at Link. There was a flurry of attacks that came as Ghirahim faced Link once again, all too much for her to sufficiently follow as she focused on the knife. With a shallow breath of panic, she thoughtlessly plucked it from the place it had hollowed in the meat of her arm, throwing it to the ground. Again, there was no sound of clattering metal, the knife dissipating before it ever made contact with the stone.

But just as quick as that thought had come that Link may not be injured, it was once again consumed by the fact that she'd been fucking stabbed, and once more she went to press to the wound to try and stifle the flow of blood that had been unstopped by her foolish decision to remove the knife.

Holding both her wound and her breath, Tya watched through the dim divine lighting as Link learned to aim lower and keep his blade from Ghirahim's free hand. Metal on metal was an ear piercing constant in the seconds they fought as each of Link's attacks were expertly parried and blocked. By the time Ghirahim fell back, hand raised as if to signal Link to stop, the boy was littered in small nicks and bleeding slices like the one on her cheekbone. He had complied with Ghirahim's gesture if only for the time he needed to assess the situation a little bit better as well as to catch his breath which, once again, she'd noticed to be a bit labored.

It was like he knew he was outmatched. She could see it in his eyes beneath the blazing blue determination, beneath the fierce desire to end the man that had harmed their friend. That had harmed him.

There were almost indiscernible glances around the room which she could see only by the movement of his eyelids, like he was searching for something in the room that might aid him in downing Ghirahim. His own skill was lacking, that much was clear. Only enough to keep him alive, and the thought occurred to Tya that she had no idea why Ghirahim hadn't outright killed her. She had no such skill.

But it also recalled the look he had given her when she'd first spoke; the look that said she was something so, so far beneath him.

And she was.

She had been subdued with two small knives whereas Link was there in the thick of the battle, holding his own.

Goddess, she was physically inept. She was so far out of her league here.

Her existential crisis was halted by the hiss of Ghirahim's voice, the annoyance in his tone seemingly trivial for the subject matter. "You've made me lose track of her," he muttered, then clicked his tongue and flicked away the blade in his hand. As it shattered into diamonds and dust, he said "I shouldn't have allowed myself to get distracted toying with you. Foolish of me."

Link opened his mouth as if to say something, but not even a sound came out before Ghirahim was gone with the same theatrics his blade had been the second before.

Again, Link hurried to back against the wall, aiming specifically for the place where Tya stood just to be near her when the Demon Lord returned. But he didn't.

They stood there in a tense silence for what felt like an hour before they allowed even a breath between them, thinking the sound might attract him to return. Thinking their complacency would get them killed.

But the rigid air shattered as Link propped the Goddess sword to the wall, and swung to look at her.

The suddenness of his action startled her and again, her breath hitched, eyes wide like a scolded child. The cut left by the sharp edge of Ghirahim's blade had been so precise and so clean that blood was dripping down her cheek, smeared between her fingers, struggling to stop like they'd been brought forth by a razor. At least a razor would have been familiar.

He shoved at her cardigan without thought, peeling down the blood specked neckline of it and of her sweater to get a better look at the wound she'd endured. It was nothing, really. It was a gash on her arm, a clear gouge where the knife had split the flesh, but it wasn't something so wildly detrimental that she was dying. It hadn't cut to bone or to muscle, it was just hellbent on bleeding too profusely for what it was.

"Its okay," she tried, to which Link shook his head.

"No-" he said. His voice was stern and his eyes still fierce as he looked at her. Again he tried to speak but his words were nothing but a small croak caught in his throat. He struggled, but couldn't bring them out, not through the panic choking him.

Her heart ached again. She raised her hand, dark and quiet, the fire having died some moments ago. It was too intimate of a thing, that moment. To have him close and worried for her well-being. To lightly swipe the blood that had begun to dry against his chin and lower lip. Though it made her sick; made her chest feel hot and anxious, she did it and didn't withdraw as she tilted his shame-filled face to hers.

"Thank you," she said. Guilt coiled with the embarrassment of her own actions. Knotted into this ugly ball of all the emotions she'd been feeling Too Much for the past few days. "For keeping me safe."

Link swallowed, a breath shaking from him just before he sniffed and shook his head. "My job," he said.

"That doesn't mean it isn't worthy of thanks," she told him. Misplaced, stubborn pride made her hesitate on her next words, but ultimately, she overcame it to continue on. "Nor does it mean that I'm not in awe of you and what you've done. You were amazing."

She was almost glad that he didn't have the energy to argue.