"I heard you came from the Surface," the man said as he leads ghirahim down the corridor. "How fascinating. It's not often we get visitors up here on Skyloft. In fact, you are the very first."

"Oh?" Ghirahim wasn't sure what to say. He was yet to know why this man wanted to speak with him. Had he misjudged the situation? Was he intruding? Any words he tried to come up with, to apologize, to reassure that it wasn't his intention to cause problems, flew apart before they reached his lips.

The man lets out a soft chuckle. "Oh, listen to me. I haven't even introduced myself yet, or explained why I wish to speak with you. My name is Eagus. I am the sword master at this academy."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, M-Master Eagus." Ghirahim pauses to do a polite little bow, even though Eagus isn't looking. Actually, maybe that's for the best. His legs feel as though they're turning into jelly all of a sudden, which is far from the optimal bowing state. "My name is Ghirahim."

Then, it's Eagus's turn to pause for a moment. Had he said something wrong? "Ghirahim… I feel like I have heard that name somewhere before."

"Have you?"

"Never mind that, for now." The two finally arrive at their destination. By the looks of it, it's some sort of arena.

"I saw what you did back there, with those bugs," Eagus was saying. "Your speed, your maneuverability, your reaction time… Those were the reflexes of a warrior."

"… Truly?" Ghirahim's voice came out barely above a whisper. He had no idea he and LInk were being watched. Sure, he'd known on some level they weren't alone, but he had gotten so absorbed in the task at hand that it had slipped his mind.

"And," Eagus continued. "I dare say that my curiosity got the better of me. Now, if you're willing, I would like to see exactly how you fair with a sword."

Ghirahim couldn't believe his ears. Eagus, who, just by the look and taste of him, has seen his fair share of battles, had been impressed with his abilities? Now he wanted to see his skill with a sword?

This made him feel a little anxious. Ghirahim didn't remember how familiar he was with swordplay, if at all. The last thing he wanted to do was make a fool of himself in front of this master.

But inexplicably, those feelings were drowned out with a spontaneous wave of excitement. Eagerness. The idea of wielding a sword, it pleased him. Normally, ghirahim would've stopped to wonder about these feelings, and what they meant to him. But now? His brain seemed to push out all the noise, focusing completely on the anticipation of…

"Of course."

"Excellent!" Eagus handed Ghirahim a sword. A practice blade by the looks of it, but long and sharp. It could still cut.

He swung the blade through the air in one quick, smooth arc. Something was off. The balance, the weight, they just weren't quite right. But, it would do for now; it would do nicely.

The whole time, Eagus watched his movements with a critical eye. Nodding his head in approval at Ghirahim's test swing, he then moves to place several logs in equal intervals around the room. "You seem like you know what you're doing so far. Why not show me your skills on these?"

Ghirahim found himself all too happy to comply with this request. Readying his blade, he approaches the nearest log. Swift. Silent. Muscles quivering in anticipation.

"Yah!" And he brings the sword sharply downwards. It sings through the air, his soul joining in with equal vigor, and the log is sliced neatly into two perfect vertically cut halves. His heart roars with satisfaction, and a small laugh escapes him before he can stop it. But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. More!

He approaches the second log, the next victim of his mighty blade. He wants to take it a little slower with this one, to prolong the joy. Many sideways slashes reduce the hunk of wood into several cute little circles that bounce and roll on the floor. Oops, he almost tripped over one of them, did Eagus see?

If he did, he isn't showing it. The sword master watches him, eyes full of…was that awe? Was he…did he impress this master with his skills? How wonderful, how amazing, how his heart just glows with the knowledge he has won this experienced man's approval!

If he is impressed now, he hasn't seen anything yet!

Ghirahim is more determined now. Not just to succeed, but to put on a show! These logs don't stand a chance against him; they are powerless, weak. He would win!

Faster and faster the logs are destroyed, each with more flare and rubble than the last. The wooden carnage continues to grow, from the smoothest segments, to the grittiest dust. All shall fall before my might!

All too soon, no logs remain. Ghirahim is victorious! But, it doesn't feel rewarding, far from it. Instead, a cold, dark void yawns in his soul, where the battle lust used to fester. It wasn't enough. Why is it not enough? Have I not done well? Do I not deserve to feel good about my accomplishments? Why is it all so… hollow?

But then, something incredible happens. "Excellent!" Eagus is beaming with pride, and what's this? He now has a practice sword of his own. "And for one so young… won't you indulge me further? I must see how you handle an actual opponent now."

Instantly the eagerness, the excitement is back, and stronger than ever before. Suddenly all that log cutting paled in comparison to the prospect of a true battle. "Yes," he breathes, settling into a fighting stance. "Yes, let us dual!"

At first, it's clear to Ghirahim that Eagus is holding back. Not giving it his all, fighting at less than full competence. That… ghirahim would not allow that. Does he think me a fool? I am no weakling; I will teach him to underestimate me!

Ghirahim has no qualms about holding back. Master wanted to see his skills; he would show him his skills. Ghirahim would show his master that he isn't weak, nor incompetent. He is worthy!

Ghirahim strikes, swift and fast, blade moving at incredible speeds, several times. Eagus, taken by surprise, still manages to dodge and block the blows, but just. That's alright, though, because suddenly, he shifts. He has his full attention now. And he's being taken seriously. Just as planned…

Swing after swing, blow after blow, strike after strike. It goes on for what seems like seconds and countless eternities simultaneously. Their grunts and cries harmonize with the shriek of metal on metal in a glorious, self-composing war ballad that would only ever be played once. They step, they spin, they clash. In a graceful, dangerous dance where one mistake would be deadly.

A desperate attack, a move that was so laughably predictable. Ghirahim could see it coming for miles. A gloved hand, quick and precise, shoots forth. Thin fingertips pluck the end of Eagus's blade right out of the air, with the dainty firmness of a butterfly made of steel.

Eagus, the poor fool, never saw it coming. It was all too easy, all too simple to rest the weapon from his grasp. He stands, victorious, twin blades held aloft. Reunited together, on the same side…

Kill.

Wait…

Kill him.

What…

I have won. This is simply the nature of a true dual. The loser must pay. With blood and viscera staining the ground for us.

But… that's…

You want it. You know you do. You crave it. Fill the void with his soul. "Kill him!"

Ghirahim gasps. Suddenly, the swords feel wrong in his grasp. Not just because they aren't the right fit, not anymore. It was as if he were in possession of two ticking time bombs, who could explode at any moment, ruining everything. By simply holding these blades, he was committing a sin.

The twin, ringing clangs of metal hitting wood shook Ghirahim back to reality. The weapons had fallen from his grasp, probably because his hands were trembling so violently all of a sudden. Actually, his whole body was shaking, as if he were naked in a blizzard.

What was that, what was that? Thoughts, feelings, impulses. So familiar, and yet so deeply, viscerally alien.

"In all my years…" Eagus breathed. He was visibly winded, but his eyes still shown with exhilaration. "Never have I experienced such an intense challenge. You have truly pushed me to my limits, in the best way. Where did you learn such incredible skills from?"

"I…" Eagus was panting and exhausted, and yet Ghirahim hadn't so much as broken a sweat. In fact, he didn't even feel slightly tired.

Eagus is a weakling, that is all.

No! Ghirahim promptly banishes yet another rampant thought from his mind. It is I who is abnormally resilient. I should be tired, exhausted even. This is unnatural… and honestly, a little… scary.

Then he suddenly remembers that ma… that Eagus had asked him a question, and immediately latches onto that. Anything to avoid reflecting upon whatever terrifying madness had clouded his brain back there. "I… do not know. I'm so sorry."

He wasn't just apologizing for his ignorance. No, it was so much more than that. Does he realize how much danger he was in mere moments ago? How close to… because of… I nearly… I would have… why did… Please, forgive me.

Eagus looks puzzled. "You don't know?"

He briefly explained to the instructor the situation he was in. The amnesia and how link had agreed to help him. By the end, Eagus looked troubled. "I had no clue… I am so sorry that this happened to you."

Ghirahim nervously traces a hole in his glove. "It isn't your fault," he mutters, staring awkwardly at his feet.

"Still, I feel like I may have been a bit… overzealous when I brought you here. I should have spoken to you more beforehand. I was too overeager…"

"Perhaps…" Ghirahim trailed off. What could he say? "I… should go."

Eagus doesn't protest. They exchange polite, if awkward, goodbyes and ghirahim is out of there as quickly as possible without looking suspicious.

He wanted Link. Link, who had been so kind and understanding to him, despite whatever he'd… Wait.

Ghirahim freezes, and chills run down his spine that are so intense that he has to hug himself to avoid shivering.

Link had been wary of him at first. He had pointed his sword at him, and didn't trust him with Zelda. It had made no sense to him at first. But now, with what he'd just experienced. Those thoughts… those disgusting, demented thoughts…

Ghirahim wanted to deny it. That he wouldn't do something like that, not to children, not to anyone. But a terrible feeling began building, deep in his gut.

Who am I?

What did I do?

…

Do I even want to know?