A/N: I wasn't really sure what to expect after I posted last chapter. I braced myself for backlash, I braced myself for silence. Instead I got an outpouring of support. Thank you so much PokemonTrainer4700, Moon ninja Luna, SarukoDark, Walavouchey, DiscountPineapple, Guest, Bluebadger, Guest, and Maybe for your reviews and encouragement. You are all amazing. I hope this chapter is to your liking.

Chapter 8

I am pulled along the mountain trail, my hand gripped tightly in Ghirahim's palm.

I stare bewilderingly at our interlocked fingers, wondering how such a thing had even become a point of contention. Why had he wanted to take my hand, when he could have easily snatched my wrist, as he had done so many times before?

He held his hand out to me in the tower after Shii had delivered the news, looking at me expectantly.

I glanced between his face and his outstretched palm. "Um, what?"

"Take my hand, little bird."

I hesitated, scrunched my brow. "…I'm not holding your hand."

"It's either that or I grab your arm. Your choice, darling. Just know that one option will be gentler than the other."

I took his hand. Not without great reluctance, rest assured.

We teleported to the Eldin province, the warping sensation leaving me woozy. The demon lord seemed to be in a dreamy state of elation, seems to be even now. At first he wanted to rush, gushing, "Let's go, let's go, little bird!" but my lagging steps made him settle for the happy-go-lucky pace we now set; he's practically skipping, too happy to be mad at my slowness, and for that I'm grateful, but I'm left to nervously wonder how long it will last.

The volcano looms high in the distance. Smoke rises from the precipice like plumes from a great dragon's mouth and rivers of lava bleed from the mountain's numerous wounds, branching through the land, glowing bright and distorting the air with wafting waves of heat and embers.

We come to numerous outposts, Ghirahim leaving my side to check with the Bokoblins stationed within them. More quickly than not, he returns, and we continue onwards. I skitter after the demon, taking the slopes and rocky terrain of Eldin a little better than the root-infested wood of Faron, surprisingly. Amazing what actual food can do for a body. Although the heat makes me gasp, and beads of sweat tickle as they run down my back. And…

Wait…

What is that sound?

It's strangely melodic and coming from Ghirahim.

Oh geez. He's humming now.

What makes it more disturbing is the fact he's humming the tune of Come Thou Fount, the English hymn I had so recently sung to him. I'm shocked his demonic blood hasn't burst into holy flames. It should. Why isn't it?

He glances back at me. "Smile, darling! It's a glorious day! The spirit maiden is ours."

My mouth remains a flat line. "Uh-huh."

"To think it's finally happened. Just as you said it would! Did I ever doubt you?" He pauses, pursing his lips. "Yes. Yes, I did. But I was wrong." Suddenly he spins, grabbing me up and crushing me to his chest. "I've never been so happy to be wrong!"

I stutter incoherently as he swings me from side to side, as if smooshing my face into his rock wall of a chest wasn't enough.

As quick as he scooped me up, he drops me, continuing up the mountain.

I glower after him with all the sulkiness I can muster. "…You really shouldn't celebrate before you cross the finish line."

"What was that?"

My immediate want-to response is to happily chirp, "Nothing!" but… Something in my chest stirs, prickly and smarting, like barbed wire digging lines through my heart. Fear. I have to say something, or else he'll blame me.

"I said, 'You really shouldn't celebrate before crossing the finish line.' What if someone else gets there first?"

He flips his hair. "And who, pray tell, will that be?"

I shrink down. "You know who," I grumble, too quiet for him to hear. He'll know soon enough anyway, I tell myself. But I question the wisdom of telling him of Sheik—no, I mean Impa. Heh, wrong game—and potentially causing him to arrive before Hylia's guardian can rescue her.

But then I think of how sour his mood will be, how this happy, frolicking fruitcake will plummet to a nasty, snarling demon who can only be pacified by burning things…people…a certain green-clad person.

Again I have to tight-rope the middle ground.

"The boy in green," I supply, instead of revealing Impa. "The one you fought in—choo!" I am cut off by the squeakiest sneeze ever as a hot breeze with volcanic ash drifts by. A squirrel sneezes more dignified; I sounded like a Kikwi. I shuffle awkwardly and try to make like it wasn't me, eyes darting to the sky for a bird I can blame it on.

Ghirahim throws a smile over his shoulder, eyes flitting up and down my frame. "That boy? Is he really still pursuing her? How stupid of him…" He sighs dramatically, like an amused but exasperated parent. "I warned him what would happen if we were to meet again."

A sharp frown cuts my face, and the need to defend Link rises. "Stupid or brave?"

His retort is dry. "Is there a difference, darling?"

"…Yes," I say so quietly he once again doesn't hear me. Yes, there is a difference. Not realizing the danger, or thinking oneself above said danger, is stupid. Knowing full well how dangerous the path is, yet pushing on regardless? That's courage. Link knows his life is at risk. He also knows Zelda's is at risk too. And that's why he'll stop at nothing to save her. Nothing will keep him back. Not fear. Not mortal peril. Not even the deadliest demon on the surface.

Not like me.

Me, who fears the fallout after Zelda gets swept away out of reach once again. Me, who walks the fence in hopes of avoiding the fire burning on both sides.

We all wear chains, my pastor once said in one of the few sermons I actually remember. Either the chains of sin or the chains of righteousness. We make the choice. But to walk the middle road is to wear the chains of uncertainty.

To what are you bound now? whispers a voice in the back of my mind. I want to ignore it; I push it away. But I shiver anyway, feeling my chains now more than ever. The fear is uncertain, the hope is uncertain. Suddenly uncertainty in a world that, with all my knowledge, I thought couldn't provide anything other than absolute certainty.

If I were brave, like Link, I wouldn't have to wonder. If I had an inkling of courage, I wouldn't be a fence walker.

But I have no bravery, and courage is something I hide from on a daily basis.

"Maybe he'll get there first," I say.

"Even if he does, what can he hope to do against me?" His arrogance makes him complacent. "The Remlit's in the bag."

"Uh, Ma-'Master,'" I nearly choke on the title, and must attach sarcasm halfway to get it out. "No offense, but the Bokoblins aren't exactly the smartest bunch. I wouldn't trust them to keep hold of a stick let alone a person." I stumble over a rock just as another thought occurs to me. "…Are there even Remlit's down here?"

"Mmm, no. But I've read of them. That and I've found a couple dead ones."

I grimace, heart hitting with a sharp pang.

"…Does that upset you, little bird?"

I look up to see him watching me from over his shoulder, expression unreadable, eyes dark.

"W-what do you care?" I say lowly, ducking my head and averting my eyes. I curse myself for showing any kind of inclination; he'll surely use it against me later, provided he gets his hands on a Remlit or other small creature. He'll hurt the creature to hurt me.

He says nothing in response.

"Are we gonna hurry or what? Don't blame me if the boy gets there first," I say, and all the while…I walk a little slower. Maybe there's a shred of bravery in me after all.

The game taught me many things. Things about Link, things about Zelda, Impa, Groose, Demise… I thought it had taught me about Ghirahim too. I know he's crazy, I know he's sadistic, I know his emotions leap from one spectrum to the other at any given moment. I know. So why, why, why am I always surprised by him?

Something in my warnings must have split hairs, must have pulled a trigger, because suddenly he isn't so happy.

"All right, enough of this! Let's hurry, let's hurry! Come come, little bird! We haven't another moment to lose. No more of your stumbling! Move!" His tone gets nastier and nastier with each word spoken. "Move!"

I am snapped to attention and rush onward. I was never considered a slow runner, but that doesn't mean anything in the here and now, trying to keep up with a demon that can leap chasms in a single bound. The heat waves push against me like walls, slapping me with sweat and dizziness as my boots clip across rock and soil. The slopes bog me further, and my legs feel like lead and stone with each lift. Heavier and heavier, until I feel like I'm encased in concrete.

When I spot a stamina bulb growing in a shaded crevice, I dive for it, viciously biting into it as I run, never stopping. The green fruit's effects help me push on…for about another ten seconds.

I'd like to say I covered a lot of ground before sliding to my knees in defeat, but that would be a lie, and though I've lied to others I make an effort never to lie to myself. For all the good it does.

Ghirahim jumps over a hissing lava stream, crests the hill. I wish he'd keep going and leave me, but he doesn't. With not a drop of sweat on his brow, he turns and looks down at me, a most cool and unimpressed expression befitting his face.

"Just—just go! I'll…get there eventually." I gasp rapidly, gripping my knees, and lowering my head, the heat not the only thing coloring my face. I thought I was better than this, I thought I was stronger. When playing the game…heh. When playing the game I was sitting on the couch, not doing the actual running. That was Link. I remember being so irritated at how quickly his stamina depleted. And here I am. If stamina gauges were an actual thing, mine would be half of the hero's.

Dust poofs in front of me as Ghirahim's feet touch ground. "Get up."

I glare. "Don't…waste time with me. Go—"

"Get. Up." His tone does not offer tolerance.

I obey, rising shakily, and am instantly grabbed and slung over his shoulder. The sudden contact both tenses and knocks the breath out of me as my stomach comes down on him. And then the ground is rushing, rushing like water beneath me, the air swirling by, cooling. I am carried up the mountain, through boiling caverns, and up rocky cliffs. My stomach churns and my throat tightens whenever he jumps so high, and my eyes go wide and my clammy palms grip his cloak whenever we pass over bubbling orange rivers, but I utter not a peep. His mood is all over the place; I can feel it, like electric currents are radiating of him, zipping wildly.

Then, a thought occurs to me. "Why don't you just teleport?"

"I am told they have her; I am not told where. My worthless underlings do not communicate well. I'm checking the outposts. The last one is not far."

The fact that the ground we covered felt like miles to me, but was actually not, strikes me and once again I'm scorned. I might as well be a sack of potatoes over his shoulder right now. I blame the numerous inclines, I blame the heat; anything to take this useless blaming pressure off my chest. I'm so bothered by it I don't jerk or complain, not even when I shift dangerously during another jump. The ground gets so small; we go high up. His hand quickly slides from behind my knees to grip my thigh, prevents me from slipping. I bite my tongue at the contact. He'd probably drop me if I whined, anyway, what with his temper being as it is.

Don't blame me, don't blame me…

A skip and a hop later (a leap and a deadly drop that nearly makes me vomit my heart out later) and we're at the last outpost.

Which is right in front of the temple, apparently.

As soon as Ghirahim plops me to my feet, nausea and fear is forgotten. I spin around to take in the sight of the ancient ruins around us. The double red doors leading into the mountain, adorned with twin dragon carvings on either side, and the melded gold flames above them, the giant round ruby situated between, the red brick, the green stone trimmings, the gold casings, the ancient build and tiling, all crumbling and in disrepair but still breath-taking in the way it goes up, up, up, right in the face of the mountain, and…

Where did Ghirahim go?

I whirl around and he's not there. Looking left, looking right, my eyes scanning the rock and—there he is. Talking to a trembling little Bokoblin. There are other Bokoblins, but they've all backed away, some quivering up against the rocks, some having hidden in their makeshift camp, their beady eyes peering out from the cracks of the crude huts, and left their comrade to do the reporting.

I watch warily. Unwittingly I put myself in their shoes, and then have to subsequently brush off the pain pricking in my chest. Poor little fugly idiots…but I don't dare to intervene. Ghirahim is about as likely to explode into rage as he is to happiness, and he just might take someone's head in the ensuing fit.

After observing the temple a bit longer, and having had my fill of marveling at its height and ancient presence, I dawdle off to the leftward path. From the temple yard's stone tiling, and all the broken-up patches and holes making it look like bombs have rained down, to the faded dirt trail. I eye the blooming bomb flowers with both excitement and trepidation, knowing they could go off at the slightest irritation. Kinda like the demon.

Though it looks like I wander aimlessly, I very deliberately loiter over a soft patch of dirt, digging into it with my heel. Part of the key is right under my feet. Trudging deep with my boot I draw a smiley face over the patch. Hopefully Link will see it.

And there should be a Goddess Cube behind those rocks…and another piece of the key down that hill…

If I'm the cause of the key being broken up, the least I can do is scout the shards out, mark them for Link. Actually, if I could dig up most of them and put them together, then bury them in a convenient spot, it would really help him out. Maybe I could, if I could just do so under Ghirahim's nose…

I sneak back over to the rocks, peer out into the temple grounds and…

"Uh…" I lean further, gripping to the rock wall and hanging out on my arm. "Where'd Ghirahim go?"

Dark, tiny eyes all turn to regard me, all going wide in their sockets.

"What?" My question is simple enough, but they don't answer me. It is then I recall Shii's words. The language barrier. Of course. "Ghi-ra-him," I enunciate, waving my hand in a where-art-thou motion.

Little clawed hands all point to the temple.

"He just left me?!" I spout, but then quickly rein in, push away the arbitrary indignation. "Um, well…he was in a hurry, I guess. Ahem. Um…don't mind me. I'll just…wait over here."

I scurry out from their sights, back behind the rocks, splay up against them. He…left me. He actually left me. That's…that's awesome! I can get the key parts now. I can—

Wait.

Was…was he supposed to rush ahead just now?

Where is Impa?

Panic stabs at my heart. If Ghirahim gets to Zelda before Impa does…

I dash out to the edge of the temple courtyard, nearly throwing myself over the edge and down the steep incline in my haste. Ghirahim leapt up a completely different way than what one would take in-game, so I wasn't able to see any defining landmarks. Was that one bridge already made passable by Impa? Has she gotten through yet?

Dread wells up and churns like a storm cloud, and I sink into it, struggle to keep my head above it to breathe. Now you've done it, I tell myself. You frickin' idiot! You stupid cowardly wretch! You couldn't stall him? You couldn't take the beating? Zelda's dead now, good job.

There is a dreadful moment in which my mind goes completely blank, quiet but for the panicked pounding of my heart.

The key. The key! My mind suddenly screams it. You have to get the key and stop him yourself! Hurry!

Hurry, hurry, hurry, goes each beat of my fibrillating heart as I run, run, run.

I knee dive over the first dirt patch, claw at it with my bare hands, splashing dirt into the air like a dog. Panicked gasps I assume to be the Bokoblins fill my ears and I worry they will try to stop me, but then I distantly realize the gasps are my own, not theirs. My panic. My blood beating a drum inside my head.

Dirt crumbles and trickles back into the pit, only to be ripped out, flung away, until gold pierces the brown monochrome. I yank it up, shove it in a pocket, and dart off to the next one. I dive down an incline, roll, roll, and tumble in a foolish act of impatience, as I could've broken my neck throwing myself down like that, but I don't stop to think of it. And in my hurry I forgot to roll down a bomb flower ahead of me, and now I must dig under the crude little wood tower the Bokoblins built over it. My nails chip and break when they hit stone scattered throughout the dirt, but I cannot stop.

Do not stop.

Second piece obtained—hurry!

Back up the hill, on all fours like some sort of grudge monster, my head goes dizzy and I start seeing white again.

White, white, white.

That white air is…cooling.

At the top I tear through to the Bokoblin camp. They croak and screech at my panicked arrival. Some go ramrod straight and freeze, others run over and bar my way. I run back and forth along them like a corralled horse, my wheezing gasps each coming out like a little scream.

"Get out—get out of my way! Get out!"

They grumble and croak amongst each other. One raises a club and waves it threateningly, whereas another pulls at its shoulder and squawks something I cannot understand.

I don't have time for this.

I run back, back, until I am far enough away for an adequate charge. When I do, the wind whirls by.

"Get the fuck outta my way bitch!" is the only warning they get before I bulldoze through like a bowling ball. They hit the ground like pins and I topple over them, only to roll back into a run. I don't take time to apologize, though a part of me winces, and I'm racing to the next part of the key. A bomb flower makes quick work of another tower, and after it falls over a chasm I use it as a bridge.

Nothing stops me…until I get to another chasm.

I gawk down into the black abyss, wondering how the heck I forgot about it. There is an ancient stone bridge, but it lies withdrawn, inactivated, and can only be extended from the other side.

How did Link get through this? How did I get through it as Link?

Squinting for a solution, my hand shakes as it grabs at my eyes for the glasses that aren't there anymore, and haven't been for the last two decades of this life. I end up holding my face instead, anything to quell quivering fingers.

There are still trees in this place, and vines leech up sheer cliffs. Am I supposed to jump for that? No, no, that's too far, I couldn't possibly make that jump… Oh. Right. I'm supposed to sidle over that little ledge and climb my way to the other side.

Said ledge is no wider than my foot.

I gape at it.

I'm gonna die. I gonna fall down and die, and then what?

I'm gonna die if Demise is revived—everyone is! The demon king, that black scaled, ominous beast. He'll wipe all those who oppose him from the face of the earth. Everyone…

But I'm already dead. That's right. I've already died. But, them? They're…

Just data on a screen…

What do you care? Just data.

I shudder and hunch inward, squeezing my eyes shut. Those were my thoughts. Those were my excuses for not caring, for keeping my heart far away. Just data. Don't get involved with them; they're not real, it's not real. Maybe, but…but suddenly I remember things I tried to be blind to, things I didn't want to see.

From that data, I remember…

Gaepora's eyes gazed at me with the longing worry of a father who didn't know how to help his child. His seeking eyes and questions sought answers to a puzzle he couldn't begin to comprehend. But he tried. He never stopped trying, even after all the times I shut him out.

Zelda chased me down, chastised me for being lazy…but I could see the glimmer of worry in her blue eyes, could see the hint of sadness at the corners of her mouth. She pushed me because she wanted me to do better. It hurt her to see me wallow as much as it hurt me to do so.

Link wasn't just carrying out orders when he helped me. He didn't have to stay with me on the edge. No one told him to do that. No one commanded him to smile at me as we passed in the halls between classes either. He didn't have to help me understand difficult studies, or show me how to hold a sword for the very first time. I can still see my spindly fingers wrapping awkwardly around the hilt of the worn and dull practice sword, can still see the sleepy but encouraging smile he gave me after I fumbled and dropped it.

Karane went out of her way more than once to write a second copy of her notes just so I could pass a class by the skin of my teeth. She pushed those papers under my always locked door, never asked for a thank you, never seemed to expect one. She never got one either…

Pipit goes without saying. He tried to keep me safe that night, he told me it was dangerous—don't go out. He tried to save me from my own foolishness. If only I had listened.

Ori…Oriel. No, it was Orielle. I was too careless to even remember her name, yet she tried to look out for not only me, but for Turk. She was concerned for my bird, the very creature I depended on for my life, and I…I just brushed her off like she was nothing.

Luv, the woman who made potions and medicines, was harsh with me and the quickest to anger when I spoke my native tongue. Yet she always made sure I ate, always badgered me into staying healthy. She and Piper, the woman who ran the restaurant and made the best soups, teamed up to encourage me when I had lost so much weight after not eating for a whole week. Together they kept me from another early grave.

I remember sitting in a meadow near the edge of Skyloft, grass willowing around me, swaying with the wind in a slow waltz to an unheard song of melancholy. It was a song I got lost in often. My wild hair danced with it, and I'd close my eyes, thinking if I kept them closed long enough I'd be able to float away on a breeze, wake up in my home world. She came out of nowhere. That little girl, Kukiel, pushed little white flowers into my hands. "Don't cry," she said, stealing a hug. And then she ran off to play, bouncing from one thing to the next as children do. I hadn't known I was crying. Hadn't felt the wetness on my face until I looked down at those little flowers in disbelief.

In the hot air of the volcanic mountain, I clench my fists and remember the feel of those little white flowers. They knew something was wrong with me. They couldn't figure it out. But they tried. In their own ways, they all tried.

Just data on a screen, you said.

No, no…more than that.

I look down into the chasm, something coming up against my fear, something strong as steel and as unrelenting. I have to push on. I have to.

Shaking like a leaf in a whirlwind and with tears pricking at my eyes, I take on the ledge, pressing my belly flat against the sheer mountain wall, facing away from the death-drop so as not to give any opportunity to glance down. Rocks crack and pebbles pop as they slither and crash down, and each sound makes my heart leap to my throat as if it's trying to jump up the cliff face itself and leave me to deal with gravity alone. I'm smooshed to the mountain like it's my lover. Oh, and it's not the first time I've been pressed to a rock-hard surface. I think of Ghirahim's chest. Stupid demon. This is all his fault.

My blood roars to a different tune as it goes, He left me! He freaking left me! That dick! I hate him!

I whimper as a breeze flows by, lifting my hair, tickling my skin, teasing me to the edge.

I want to close my eyes; I want to magically be on the other side, safe.

Safe, safe, safe. The word repeats until it is true. But even then, it really isn't. Even when I've somehow made it to the other side, there is still so much more to go through.

And to think I once scoffed at Link from the safety of the couch.

The trees here are a wonder. How do they grow in such a hot environment? Their bark is rougher than any I've ever felt, their branches so much harder to break. But they make really good shovels, I've found, when I finally manage to wrest one away.

Their red leaves twirl by. They remind me of the magnolias in the park. Magma magnolias. That's what I'll call them.

…Has my brain really regressed to such blithe ramblings?

Well, I guess that's what happens when one pushes themselves to exhaustion, climbing terrifying heights, and running through flame-bursting caverns.

The ends of my hair are singed, blotches of my skin are burned, and patches of clothes are black from where they combusted. All of that just to get through two seconds of tunnel. And then, immediately after, while I'm still on fire, do I fall and roll down a steep hill. At least it was mostly sand. And, hey: Stop, drop, and roll really works.

Upon realization that I don't have sailcloth, I am forced to find different ways to the last key shards. I've always been a pretty good climber, but this…

My scream fills the sky as I fall, over and over again. I fall into sand, as I'm not foolish enough to try climbing over any dead-falls, but even so the drops are enough to knock the breath out of me, paralyze me until shock wears off and I'm able to move again.

After all that, after every piece of the key is on my person, I have to go around and climb all the way back up to the temple.

And when I finally pull myself up that last ledge…

Green. Blurry green fills my vision along with something hot and stinging.

He stands there, in front of those double doors, talking to his blue floating sword spirit, Fi.

"H-hey," I call, voice warbling wetly. "Please t-tell me…please tell me that woman in the black cape came ahead of you."

"Kya!" I hear him gasp, hear the chiming of Fi jumping back into the sword, and I hear as his boots thud rapidly in approach. I hear. Because everything's too blurry to see.

"How long?" I persist. "How long ago did you see the woman in black?"

My vision clears as something warm and wet rolls down my cheek, and I see the confusion apparent on his face.

"The person in black!" My tone rises, not angry, but desperate. "The one who helped you get over the bridge! How long ago was that?!"

"Um…a while ago, I suppose. Why?"

Light spills from the Goddess Sword, and out pops Fi. "Master, if I may be of assistance. I calculate the aid we received to have occurred approximately two hours and twenty-two minutes ago."

"Kya?" Link's voice. It sounds distorted, far away. "Hey, are you okay? You look awful."

Two hours. I haven't been here that long, have I? No, no, it hasn't even been an hour. She made it, she must have made it. She had to have found a way into the temple. She has her magic, she has her agility; surely, surely she made it.

She made it, whispers a voice I barely hear. She made it.

I sink to my knees, with every conscious part of my brain asserting the relived sobbing as coming from the mountain, the wind, the sky. From anything, from anywhere…except me.

A/N: Please forgive me for the pacing. I've read and kept in mind all the advice you've given me, and am trying to implement it smoothly. A little bit of character development, more to come. And, yes there is foreshadowing in here. I won't say to what though.

That said, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. Please let me know what you think.

P.S. Is Breath of the Wild not amazing? Not only is it nice to look at, it plays well too. I'll definitely be using it for inspiration to describe the Hylian surface world. I love Skyward Sword, but it was far too linear in that regard.

P.S. 2 Can you tell I drafted Kya's character while listening to Tourettes Guy videos? ^_^'