A full day.
Of what, exactly?
Nothing.
She walked, stared, stopped, then kept walking. It was a hopeless loop born out of necessity. She had no destination, only a journey that would last for potentially her whole life. However long that would be. Not once in her life had she ever felt so helpless, so useless, so… alone. She didn't realize she was filling a void her whole life until it was made hollow once again. And now that it was, she only clung to an idealized reality to keep moving.
'Hopelessly hopeful' were words she looped in her head, describing her current situation in as good of a light as she could without outright fantasizing. Doing so would leave her vulnerable to genuine threats, like the monsters that occasionally passed her by. They never saw her, at least. Much like the other beings that populated the land around her. They had lived their whole lives down here, on the Surface. Even if they wanted to, they probably couldn't help her return home.
…Or worse…
They would 'do what they had to do,' rather than 'what they should've done.'
And Storm, the one last part of her old life, was too much to lose. He couldn't fly, but he was worth her efforts. As long as he recovered before her food ran short — something she had lots of faith in. The thought of her… dying… while Storm could only watch… it made every bone in her body shudder. For once, it was warranted, given her situation. She prayed every time she stopped that she would leave this place, that Hylia herself would scoop her and Storm back onto Skyloft.
If that wasn't what she prayed for, though, then she prayed that her most beloved was safe and okay:
Link.
He was knocked out by debris, she could recall that much. Swept right out of the tornado, limbs flailing, eyes clamped shut, mouth ajar. Epona dashed after him, a second before she passed out and awoke on the ground. It was the last time she had been even close to her home. The last time she'd slept somewhere proper, like a bed or even her desk. That silly little wooden chair felt like paradise now, compared to the dirty, damp grass she sat on last night. Her clothes were quickly reaching the same state as they were in yesterday because of that.
…But the biggest part about last night was her dream, which had replayed over and over in her head with every two steps she took.
She and Link met up, safe and sound. Then, they'd both fly up to Skyloft, breaking through the clouds and returning home with fanfare. Everyone would hug them both with smiles and laughter, while Groose and his blockhead friends would continue to eat dirt. Finally, they would get that glorious celebration that they missed out on, full of bliss and joy. And, after it all, when nobody was around, Link would finally do what she wanted him to do. They'd sit at the edge of the world, laugh about what happened, and then… after so long… he would…
…
No. That was pure fantasy, not an idealized reality.
She once dreamed about the Surface.
Now… she dreamed about Skyloft.
But that didn't mean she couldn't return to her little paradise in the eternal blue sky. It didn't mean that she was forced to live down here for decades on end. It only meant that she needed to take a few extra steps before she could sleep safe and sound in her bed. Whether that few was stuck to a dozen or even a couple hundred, it didn't matter. If nobody would help her… a thought that made her stomach sink into nothingness… then she would wipe her tears and do it herself.
Rustle, rustle.
She stopped dead, her senses instantly running into overdrive as the grip around her little knife grew tighter. This would be her fifth time encountering a monster pack, including when she got beaten by one. Still, the fear that each new encounter would be her last stuck around, something she would rather abandon and replace. Mostly for sentimental reasons, but partially for practical ones. Besides: her usual routine had worked so far. Taking the chance again was worth it.
"Storm, get down," she whispered, finding a bush behind a tree that mostly enveloped her. The sharp ends and spiky leaves poked and prodded at her, but she gritted her teeth and sank into it. Storm joined her side, less hidden by the bright blue of his feathers and reddish-white bandages, stained with blood. Yet, that was the point, if things got hairy. And it seemed like things would, as the parade of thuds and pats and crunches neared.
Gulp.
Their snorts grew louder, which she had vaguely been able to translate while down here. Mostly through common sense and tone, frankly. Loud, firm snorts were bad, lighter snorts were good, and shocked snorts were best. Usually, they stuck to the latter unless they spotted prey. In this case, that was either her or some innocent wild animal caught in the crossfire. Thankfully, neither outcome had happened so far, with usually a third one coming up.
'Breathe slowly,' she admonished herself, watching the bright red, fat, and bare bodies of the creatures walking through the brush ahead of her. Their eyes never darted toward hers, but her grip on the knife never loosened, and her breath didn't grow louder at all. Her breath caught when she realized they were headed for her and Storm. While the second instance, shortly after leaving Rito Village, was out of shock, this one was out of anticipation. She felt a bit safer with her big bird guardian by her side — one that served more than the simple purpose of travel.
Each step brought the small group of monsters closer, the sounds of their bare feet against dirt and leaves alike increasing in volume. Her ears perked up, her eyes widened, and her hands began to raise to her ears. 'Fingers crossed.'
The leading beast, the biggest one of the crew, stepped in front of Storm's beak.
SCREEEEECH!
Storm shot up from the ground, wings spread wide, screeching madly. He pecked at the beast without a moment's hesitation, sending it squealing like a boar in terror. The others, in the same act of fascinating cowardice, followed it and fled. "Good boy," Zelda praised, standing up and caressing Storm's beak, now stained by little bits of purple flesh. Now she understood why one of the main rules about having Loftwings was, 'never put a limb near its beak.' She was glad she had worked out how to make that into an advantage in this wildcard of a world. She was no Fighter or Knight like Link — but she was a Scholar at heart. "Now, let us keep moving."
"Where, exactly?" a mysterious voice called.
Every muscle in Zelda's body shut down, her bones stiffening and her mind exploding with thoughts. What she thought would be the end of a short encounter had just become something far more with the addition of this new, sentient being. A Hylian? No, that was very unlikely. Hylians were a myth down here, as Reva had inferred a while ago. Was it another Rito? Or could it have been another race altogether? Was she willing to take a chance on them to try and go home, again? Tonik's last words had done well at swaying her towards otherwise…
…But she had to try.
One more time.
"Who…" —her grip on the knife tightened as she turned— "are you…?"
"Impa. A fellow Hylian. Just. Like. You," she explained matter of factly, emphasizing their relation as fellow Hylians. Not one bit of it made Zelda's surprise any less obvious. Jaw hitting the floor, eyes widening, eyebrows climbing high into the heavens, the whole shebang. Hylians did exist on the Surface, so she was not as alone as she thought. And, despite what she should've done, she threw her guard away and became starry-eyed. She was in front of a small, sweet old woman dressed in an odd yet traditional way. How could she be so aggressive?
"A Hylian?!" she squealed, putting her knife away haphazardly with a grin. "Really?! N-nice to meet you! I—"
"Dearest Zelda."
…
Her excitement fell into the void her stomach sank into. A second ago, the world was bright and sunny. Now, it was as dark as when Tonik broke her innocent heart. "Wh… wh-what…?" she asked, her hand already returning to the loose knife in her cloak pocket. "How?" she demanded, adrenaline blasting through her veins, so much so that her muscles quivered. A tiny, almost inaudible whimper escaped her closed lips. "How do you… know my name?"
"You see—"
SNOOORT!
A small red beast leaped from the bush behind Impa, sharp blade raised high, a malicious glint in its eye. It was quickly descending, blade aimed at Impa's neck, drool flying into its face. It was rabid, willing to kill for anything, and almost had a grin. Inch by inch, second by second, it moved. The jagged blade flickered in the dull sunlight as Zelda instantly pictured it covered in a deep crimson splash, as Impa would crumble to the ground, limp and dead.
But such an outcome was more unlikely than she thought.
THUD!
A small, blueish barrier appeared behind Impa's head, sending the blade careening out of the beast's hand. It jumped back in horror and chased its weapon, squealing in fear. Zelda, outside of the running and squealing, was in much the same state. Impa, meanwhile? She smirked, the wrinkles on her face moving just a little. Her eyes remained hidden in the shadow cast by her large red hood, the one that enveloped her whole body. "You see," she continued, as if nothing had happened, "in an environment like this, I would simply not have the time to explain. I presume you can believe why." She nodded at the creature's former location.
The words caught in Zelda's throat unclogged, allowing her to speak just a sliver of her mind again. "Y-yes, yeah, I-I get it," she spat. "But what was the… the… um… blue thing? How did you do that? Is it a—"
"In a moment's time, Zelda," she interjected, resting a fragile hand on Zelda's shoulder. The warm, sincere comfort faded a mere moment afterward. In its stead sat a serious, but still concerned look and tone. "But I must ask: Do you trust that I will not harm you? Do you believe me when I tell you that I do not intend to cause you any distress? Are you willing to follow me and my instruction, despite what lies ahead? How far would you go to do the right thing?"
Whatever words of gratitude she wanted to speak stopped deep in her throat again, the barrage of questions crashing down onto her mind. They split between what Impa could've possibly meant and, more importantly, if Impa was to be trusted. Anyone could convincingly say anything if they tried, no? What made her different from them? The fact that she was also a Hylian could've been a good sign… or something worse. It was a gamble yet again, except now she knew it was no guarantee that she would return home.
…The chips were down…
Her chances were small…
Her eyes were starry…
And her fingers were crossed.
Only one question left the realm of her mind and past her lips:
"…Will it take me home…?"
Impa inhaled deeply, and let the question sit, her eyes shut by the way her wrinkles moved on her face. She held her breath there long enough for the ambience of nature to return. Zelda shuffled her feet, a void in her stomach growing for each second that ticked by. Her gaze flicked from Impa, to the nature behind her, to the trees, to the gray skies above. Impa's mouth remained shut, like a hidden door nobody had figured out how to open it. And, by the length of her silence, the complexity of her answer might as well have been a puzzle.
Whew… the wind whistled by her ear, its pitch low like a taunt.
It brushed against her spine, sending a shiver right down through it.
Drip… drip… drip…droplets of water bounced from low-hanging leaves.
Above, some more droplets descended from the sky, landing in her hair and dampening it.
Eep? Storm nuzzled into her shoulder, his head tilted and wings tucked neatly.
It didn't wake her from her anxious wait in the silence of the growing storm.
Only Impa's words did, slow and carefully chosen.
"Perhaps not as soon as you would like… however… I cannot say that your return is unlikely. Should you trust me, should you do as instructed, I believe you will return home."
Zelda nodded deeply, the void in her stomach growing smaller, although not fading. Her mouth curled at its edges, the softest but sincerest smile appearing on her face since yesterday. Even then, it felt like ages since she'd been like this. Ages since she could truly see a light at the end of this Hylia-forsaken tunnel she found herself in. This was it. This was her one solid chance at returning home… kind of. Impa believed it… so why didn't she?
Why couldn't she shut her eyes and trust her?
She was another Hylian, offering to help… right?
…
'No. I'm not doing this.'
"Alright. I-I trust you," she said, amplifying her smile. Impa reflected it, bowing her head. "Now… uh… where are you going to take me…?"
Impa took Zelda's hand, slow and steady, before turning around. "Walk with me. Don't fret, I'll keep us safe. And bring Storm along with us."
"He'll follow us," she assured, not all too surprised that Impa also knew his name. How or why? Well, she would grow to learn that in just some time. With Impa by her side, and with fate calling her name, she felt braver. She felt… good. And it felt good to know that, at the very least, her chances of being backstabbed were minimal — if not zero. Actually, definitely zero. By now, doubt would only hold her back rather than protect her. Everything would go well, and according to plan. She would find herself back home… soon.
In one piece? To her, she wished it with all her heart.
To her hunter? That was another story.
In fact, that very thought swept into the mind of a young demon, loyally serving his master a century after he died. Said demon squatted atop a tree, one a bit taller than the rest, and glared at the two little Hylians walking through the forest. The familiar red and blue clothes of one of them, and the bright blonde hair of the other, made his blood boil. The very thought that he would have to see them again… it was a disgrace. To his master, most of all.
The war should've been won, but a simple charm of luck had stopped them from obtaining the power they so desperately yearned for. And the one they deserved. In the years since, he had been waiting. Watching. Hand clasped like a vice over his blade, letting every second last an eternity, as he would stare at the grounds where the war ended. Not to mourn; such an act was pathetic. But rather to see if it was time. Hylia's mercy had come back to bite her — through him.
And now that these two wandered through the forests, chirping away like birds on a dull Surface morning, he knew it was time.
His little decoy had already reminded him of what the old woman's abilities were: shields, protection spells, and healing spells.
As for the woman, whose soul would soon be stolen away as her blood showered onto him? She was… a flesh sack. Nothing more than something immortal going through a downgrade, whether intentional or not. Her Grace had turned into 'her failure.' A powerless waste of space, who only survived because she crossed her fingers. The young man supposedly fated to defend her? He was certainly nothing but dust. Shreds. After all, the black storm the demon sent was intended to do nothing short of kill him.
…Perhaps the demon's spell work was rusted like the temples that littered the land, since she survived, but it was fine. He could improvise. The sharp blade, impenetrable skin, and snake-like charm wasn't for nothing, after all. And what would stop him from killing the girl? The old woman? Hah! She had lost her touch. The fire of fight within her now fizzled out, snuffed like the lives of her friends. Except that one blond brat, donned in that gross teal armor weaker than bricks…
But what did he matter?
Now was now.
Then was, forever, then.
…
'Focus,' a voice in his mind hissed, guiding his eyes back to the Hylians. They were almost out of sight, mere flickers of their hair or clothing popping past the leaves. He looked up from them, spotting stone ruins that looked very small from here. For them, travel would take a few hours, perhaps even a day. For him? It was an hour at a solid sprint. But such a thing was saved for emergencies which, obviously, he would never have.
…Since he knew where they were going… he could also take his time.
He jumped from his tree, landing on the ground with a thmp. The nature, lively and full of positive energy, smothered him. The light rain from above gave the grass a shiny sheen, one he usually didn't see on the Surface. Rain, finally accompanying the gray barrier between the Surface and the Sky, made him feel something. Something other than the rage he had indulged himself in for every second of the past hundred years. And he savored the feeling.
Chirp! Chirp, chirp!
He raised an eyebrow at the source of the sound, finding a small blue bird by his foot. It was round, almost smiling at him as it jumped. He returned the smile, soft and subtle with a nice warmth. He squatted down, waving at the bird and speaking a word: "Hello." It had been some time since anything other than breath left his mouth, so his voice cracked, rising for a second before falling away. The bird jumped toward him, its bright chirping continuing.
"Come here, little bird," he said, cupping his hands and leaving them on the ground. The bird jumped in, its energy overflowing out of its small body. With a steady arm, he lifted it to his face, touching his nose with its beak. "You are… well, little." A chuckle escaped him, the bird replying with another chirp. "Those two women would love you, wouldn't they?" He reached out with a finger, caressing the feathers on its head. "Your innocence… your peace… your cuteness…"
He cupped its head with a few fingers, pressing them into its neck just a little.
Chirp? Chirp!
His smile grew just a bit more. "I disagree."
SNAP!
He dropped the corpse of the bird to the ground, crushing it with a SQUELCH sound beneath his boot. A wide grin, from one ear to the other, spread across his face. Each tooth was sharp like a blade and as large as one. His pupils turned into slits, he cackled, and he rubbed the fleshy remains of the creature into the dirt. Right where the pathetic excuse of life belonged. So subtle that it was nonexistent. Watching how it trusted him… and breaking its tiny little neck… it gave him just the briefest rush. The rain, growing in intensity as it poured down, merely served to widen the grin. Rain didn't remind him of peace. It reminded him of misery. The one thing he craved.
"Now, I suppose that is done with." He stood, kicking down a tree to wipe the mess from his sole. It tumbled onto the other small birds, the sound of its trunk hitting them overcoming the sound of the bird's cries. But, now, they were nothing but small fry. An appetizer before the main course. And, after one hundred years of fasting, it was time to devour the world. To sweep it over with Malice and agony, just as intended by the Goddesses of Old.
Now, he would be the catalyst behind such a massive event — and proudly so.
One Day Later…
"Here we are, dear Zelda," Impa said, pushing past some branches to let Zelda behold the view of the temple ahead. Not to mention the giant, spiraling hole in the ground. Vines, roots, and weeds protruded from the edge of the spiral, bent upward or snapped entirely. The ground below was rough and rocky, like it was once a part of something torn apart. Unlikely as that could've been. Impa, after soaking in the scene, hopped off of the edge before turning to Zelda. "Go on."
Storm made the leap with the same ease that Impa had, opening his wings to catch some air. 'I wish I could do that,' she thought, closing her eyes and jumping down. She landed with a slight wobble, the impact shooting back up into her knees, but was otherwise unphased. "So… we go to the other end of the spiral and climb up that wooden ladder, then?"
"Yes, indeed," Impa confirmed, walking onward to the other end of the spiraling land. The rough terrain made balancing difficult, but she would manage. Her emotions and thoughts were always closer to her priorities. "How is Storm doing?" Impa asked when Zelda caught up to her. "After that night of rest both of you got last night, I would hope his condition has greatly improved."
Zelda nodded, patting Storm's head with a warm grin. "Mhm. Flight might still take another day of waiting, but I can manage."
"That is good to hear, then. He is pertinent to the matters that I wish to discuss with you." Impa looked up at the edge of the forest, surveying the treetops. Her small steps quickened, forcing Zelda to speed up to a partial march. Being the top of the spiral, it was the widest and longest. They were only a mere quarter of the way there. "I believe that wasting more time is unnecessary. I wouldn't want you to die of impatience, now," she teased, flicking her gaze away from the forest to share a smile. It lasted only long enough for Zelda to register it before Impa locked eyes with the trees again.
Something about it raised a flag in Zelda's mind, inspiring her to trace Impa's gaze to the trees. Nothing stood out. It was leaves hidden in the dull shadows cast by the dull sun, and nothing more. But she kept pace and pushed it out of her mind. "So… I'm assuming this temple is physical proof to support what you'll tell me?" she inquired, looking up at the temple, planted into the ground not too far from them both. It was stained, mossy, and unkempt. It was more in line with Link's room rather than someplace to hold holy artifacts. Holes in its walls, long shattered windows, and flags without color or structure.
A far cry from the pristine paradise she believed it to be, all these years.
Which, sadly, included its inhabitants.
"Quite. Additionally," —her pace quickened and her grip on her basket grew firm— "it is safer."
Despite being halfway across the gap, Zelda was running out of breath — not helped by Impa's ever-increasing pace. Storm had started jumping and gliding short distances to keep up. It was a sign of improvement in his health, sure, but also a sign of how fast Impa was going. The very act of it was impressive and concerning, both in equal measure. How a little old woman could go that fast was one thing. The reason for it was a whole other thing.
Impa had taken her time before now…
Her pace, while not slow, was casual. The walk she and Zelda took was pleasant, informational, and rather fun in a world like this. A break from all the suffering around them.
The walk they took now was eerie, coated in a veil of pleasantness that was tearing at every seam. With each tear, her heart fell further. The abyss devoured her heart, her gut, and then asked for more. Everything inside her was imploding, swirling into a mess of negative feelings and fear of what lay beyond the trees. Whatever had caught Impa's eye now drowned Zelda's mind, watching with sadistic glee as it sank further and further.
And it vanished outright when another voice halted them all, right then and there.
"Well, well, well!" a mocking cry shot out from the trees above, getting Impa to grind to a halt. What's more, it confirmed everything Zelda guessed. Everything she feared.
"Zelda, get behind me." Impa's soft tone was replaced by cold urgency, so serious and firm that it was almost a threat. Even if she hadn't said that, Zelda would've gone behind her anyway, only able to follow basic instructions as she blanked out. All she knew was that her mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of fear. Impa set down her basket, taking in a long, whistling breath before she responded to whatever had approached. "It has been some time, has it not?" Her raised voice echoed, the words repeating several times before fading away.
Only when they did did the other voice call back. "One hundred long years!" Despite the shout and rising inflection, it was sinister and Zelda knew it. Her whole body locked and froze, her breath stopping firm in her throat. "Had you been anyone else, I would've thought you had died! But… of course… I wish that was the case." The softness of the voice was far from soothing, and, soon, the figure it belonged to jumped from a tree, now standing at the edge of the spiral. Their back was to the sun, leaving only an outline and a shadow to the voice. "I've been watching you — Impa Sheik."
Impa's gaze hardened. Zelda's eyes widened.
"The very second I saw you leave that pathetic little temple of dead memories," the figure continued, "I knew she was here. I knew she had landed. And I—"
"You knew you failed," Impa cut his monologue short, reaching into a pocket below her hood for something.
CRASH!
The figure slammed his foot down, sending a bit of land at the edge of the spiral careening to the bottom. "You let me speak, you worthless DOG!" the figure hissed, drawing something long and shining from nowhere. No longer did they stand still, as they took deliberate steps toward the highest point of the spiral. One by one, each making specks of dirt quiver. And it hit her how truly close the figure was, now seeing it right where she was a few minutes ago. "Hehe… oh, I missed that…." The figure dropped down, the features revealed finally after their speech.
"Ghirahim…" Impa muttered, drawing a staff taller than herself and slamming it into the ground. "I have not forgotten that day."
"Neither have I." Ghirahim grinned, twirling his thin blade, its red diamond blinking in the dim daylight. A swirl of white hair covered his eye, the other exposed and wide. A small red cape, clipped around his collar, flowed in the light wind. Now that they walked on the same ground, Zelda could feel the slight vibrations from his cautious approach. "Neither have I," he repeated, his grin fading and tone lowering. He tightened his grip around his blade, his hand shaking from its intensity. "Your mercy has returned. And now, it shall be what kills you."
"Mercy?" Impa asked, sparing a glance at Zelda, who remained frozen stiff.
"Not you, you dog." His gaze jumped to Zelda, eyes going wider and grin returning. His teeth — no, his fangs — glinted with a tint of red. "YOU."
That one word unfroze Zelda for but one single second. "…M-me…?"
"Lady Hylia. It has been far…" —he chuckled— "FAR too long…."
Wheew…
'What does he mean…?' Zelda's mind raced with more questions, ten times the amount she had upon meeting Impa just yesterday. So many words, concepts, beliefs, all shattered and swirling into a dizzying mess that filled her skull, melting her brain into a creamy soup. She completely disassociated, the world falling away, nothing more than dirt on a flat wall. It did anything but stick, leaving her, Ghirahim, and Impa in an infinite void. An abyss she couldn't comprehend — not that she wanted to comprehend it.
Lady Hylia.
The name of the goddess celebrated by Skyloft. The one she dedicated her days and nights praying to whenever she needed help or advice. As small as asking to stay up for studies or as big as asking for her mercy to play the role of her in the ceremony. Hylia — Lady Hylia — was a being so important in history that not a page could be turned in a book without her name or title being brought to light. She fought for the land and saved it, her story a reminder of strength in the darkest night.
And here Zelda, nothing more than the daughter to a headmaster, was. Being addressed by such a name of such high respect.
A lowly Hylian like her? How? Was it a mistake? Or…
Maybe, just maybe…
She was something more…?
"HAHAHAHAHA!" Ghirahim's laugh threw her from her trance. "Always the one for questions, your dear goddess. Well," —he rested his blade on his back— "I implore you to ask one thing:" His eyes flashed and his smile was wiped away by a wave of boiling blood. "What will your last words be?'
"Zelda, run!"
In a flash, Ghirahim appeared in front of Impa, blade drawn and thrown toward her, its glinting edge slamming against her shield of blue magic. Zelda gasped, jumping back and landing on her butt. She crawled back away, but her hand slipped. She squealed, throwing herself back to her feet. She almost fell down toward the bottom of the spiral, a height that would've turned her into mush. She whimpered and curled up against Storm's legs.
Meanwhile, Ghirahim wailed on Impa's shield, his maniacal and careless laughs ringing out across what felt like the universe. Insults and curses — some of which she didn't even understand — were thrown as violently as his blade against Impa. who stood firm and backpedaled slowly. But cracks, in her composure and her shield, began shining through. A dent in the magical blue wall. Then a jagged line. Then a full crack. Each pierce or slash and laugh or taunt made it weaker and weaker, the sound of each impact making it sound more glassy and fragile.
THUD! CRACK!
"You mean NOTHING to me!" Ghirahim continued on, his voice louder, his presence closer. "LADY HYLIA!" He cackled, staring her down, finally getting her to look dead at him. "You will watch your friend die and won't do anything about it! How weak can you possibly—"
"RAAAGH!"
POW!
…Somehow, someway, she punched Ghirahim straight in the nose, sending him stumbling back. Impa's shield fizzled out of existence, her posture relaxing as she watched Ghirahim hold his nose in pure shock.
Drip…
A small, near-nonexistent drop of crimson red fell from below Ghirahim's gloved hand.
"Zelda," Impa calmly said, backpedaling some more. "Make your way to the temple. I will be there in a moment's time." She smiled ever so slightly, kindly gesturing for Zelda to walk away.
Confused, Zelda did as such, leading Storm away but never peeling her eyes from Ghirahim and Impa. As such, words began to travel into her mind, although it now felt like she was listening to two totally different people. "She… she punched me…" Ghirahim, pulling his hand from his nose, breathily uttered. "That little shit actually hit me…!"
"Yes, indeed," Impa replied, pressing her staff into the ground with both hands. "That…" —she glanced over her shoulder, appearing to wink despite her eyes being hidden— "little brat did indeed hit you. Enough to make you bleed from your nose." Her tone was amused, and very light for such a situation where she almost died. "Do you not see it, still? You are a failure, Ghiarhim."
"I'm NOT!" he shouted in exchange, throwing his blade right at her foot. "I am strong — a demon so POWERFUL that YOU—"
"You have lost to the Kingdom of Hyrule twice, both with significant stakes. Once with your allies against uf all. And again against a feeble old woman, protecting a young girl you seem to recognize. Ghirahim… you are, by every definition, a failure."
A small sheen emerged from Ghiarhim's eyes. Something wet… something falling from his cheeks….
'Tears…?'
"I-I…!" Ghirahim stomped his foot, sending more of the path crumbling to pieces. "DAMN YOU!"
"Demise would agree."
STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP!
Ghirahim stormed off, his blade vanishing in a cloud of black diamonds. His fists were clenched, arms glued to his sides, and gaze locked to the ground. He looked… childish. He was having a tantrum!
"Hm." Impa smiled, turning on her heel and finishing the walk to the temple, scaling the ladder where Zelda watched everything unfold. Everything that had transpired was a horrifying flight of fear, confusion, amusement, and rage. It left her standing stiff in front of the temple, her posture awkward and her mind filled with countless words jumbled into a clump of: 'What?' This was something Impa recognized, her warm smile relaxing Zelda from the weird experience. "Pardon the interruption. Let us continue."
She pressed her hand to the locked door of the temple, a golden-stylized eye flickering to life on its weathered stone.
…
"Something is on your mind," Impa calmly remarked, the confused amusement in Zelda's head fading away. "Would I be wrong in believing that this has to do with how that demon addressed you?"
Zelda's gaze fell, her lip pursing and shoulders loosening. Impa was far from wrong, in this case more than the rest. "No… it was. Hylia is the name of the Goddess I've worshiped my whole life…." Impa turned around, dropping her hand back to her side while the other let the basket dangle from a finger or two. The corners of her lip curled down, revealing a wrinkled frown of either sympathy or pity. "And yet… I am Hylia…?" Zelda looked back up at Impa, her mouth slightly ajar and brow still tense. "What am I…?"
Click!
The temple door seemed to unlock behind Impa as she set her hands on Zelda's shoulders. "That is what I am here to tell you, dear Zelda," she softly affirmed, her expression serious with a flicker of care. "Do you trust me?"
'…A leap of faith,' Zelda thought, sucking in one last deep breath and nodding. Her confusion faded away, replaced by a smile of determination.
"Yes. I trust you. Whole-heartedly."
Impa backed up and smiled, walking back toward the door.
"Then we have a lot to discuss… Your Grace."