literature

Weaving Fate- Amiss

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"Sky child…"

He didn't want to listen - he just wanted to get away, escape the darkness.

"Sky child..."

He pushed himself back into the ice cold wall, willing himself to become a part of the crumbling stone.

"Sky child..."

He clamped his hands over his ears.

"Sky child..."

He could still hear it, that calm, yet deadly whisper.

"Sky child... You can't hide from us... We will find you."

"Shut up!" he shouted, his voice still barely more audible than a whisper.

"Sky child…"

...
"We can't move yet. Link needs to recover. He looks like he's been to Hell and back, for goddess sake!" Pipit stomped his foot while crossing his arms over his chest. "Plus, he deserves time to rest. Could you even begin imagine what he's been through?"

There was a tense moment of silence as Sheik, Pipit's right hand man, shuffled across the tent, preparing to leave.

"Pipit, I know you want what's best for your friend, but we can't risk staying here much longer. Demon armies are no doubt searching for the hero, and giving the lad's condition... I'd say that at least three of four aren't even an hour's journey away."

"But Sheik, he can't travel. I mean... just look at him. It's a miracle that he made it this far." The knight garbed in yellow set his eyes on the sleeping hero, who seemed to be teetering on the cusp between life and death. "It's a miracle that he's managed to survive the past four years..." Pipit sighed heavily as he knelt over Link's relatively still body.

It was astonishing to think Link, the outgoing knight who would throw himself head first into danger on a whim, even if it only meant saving one life, was in such a horrible state. His once strong frame had been beaten down and was now weak. His skin, once so tan from the rays of the sun, was even more pale than aging stone. That happy expression he always wore had morphed into one of guilt and remorse.

He was so different... He had changed so much...

Brushing a few strands of almond colored strands behind his ear, Pipit looked up at the leader of the Sheikah tribe. His eyes glistened with worry, and his heart was heavy with guilt. They should have been searching for Link... They shouldn't have assumed he was gone. Everyone knew Link would have never given up so easily. The young man had always been so determined and stubborn.

"You know..." Sheik started, "The only way he will survive is if we leave now. We can get him to Kakariko in three days. The demons have no knowledge of its existence, and the hero can recover properly there."

He hated to admit it, but Sheik was right. Kakariko was the safest place for Link to hide... That's where the majority of the remaining Skyloftians had settled since their home had fallen from the sky in a sea of flames.

Shivering, Pipit recalled the horrid memories of the past. He had lost so much the day Skyloft fell. Fires blazed wildly, consuming everything in their path like a pack of hungry wolves. Too many people had died that day... Those who survived had lost hope.

But, hope was alive once again. The legendary hero still lived and was in their care.

"You... You're right, Sheik... Tell everyone to get ready... We leave before dawn."
...
Sinking back into his Master's muscular body, Ghirahim exhaled through his nose. He was still so angry, livid with frustration. His pet had run away with the intentions of never coming back.

Was the Demon Lord just that bad of a caretaker?

No... It couldn't have been. Ghirahim kept the child clothed, he fed him (sparingly), and even gave him a room of his own to sleep in. Sure, Ghirahim had taken advantage of the boy's body, but it was just a small fee to pay to live in comfort. And then there were the cruel and brutal punishments whenever he chose to disobey his superiors. All Link had to do was behave, and there would have been no pain.

"I will give him credit, Ghirahim. He waited for the precise moment, when he had gained our trust," Demise mused as he rubbed his calloused hands up and down the Demon Lord's arms. "His punishment will be severe indeed."

Ghirahim said nothing as he allowed himself to relax in the Demon King's arms. The thought of the sky brat screaming in agony was beyond appetizing at the moment. He licked his lips at the thought, picturing his runaway pet at his feet, begging for it all just to end. Just imagining the taste of the boy's sweet blood popping in his mouth made his mouth water.

"Master, I need him... I need to hear him scream," the demon whined, rolling his head back onto Demise's toned chest.

"I know, Ghirahim. And you will soon enough," Demise hummed before planting a gentle kiss on the lord's neck. Shutting his eyes, Ghirahim sighed, his rage dwindling into almost nothing. He absolutely loved the attention his Master gave him, and it always soothed him.

Both demons remained silent for a few minutes, just enjoying the silence along with the heat radiating from each others' bodies.

"Your Highness!"

Ghirahim growled before opening his dark eyes. He hated that voice, but he hated the owner of that voice even more. If only he could get away with ripping off that demon's blue covered head...

"Ah, Azazel, have you made up your mind yet?" Demise inquired politely, resting his chin on Ghirahim's head.

"Yes, Your Majesty, I have." Azazel bowed, his voice full of confidence. "I accept your offer, and I am more than proud to serve as your general."

Eyebrows twitching, the Demon Lord scowled. It was obvious that Ghirahim didn't trust the other demon, or see him worthy as a leader. Azazel was a coward, and the Demon King knew it... He had to...

Who was the one that sweat and bled for the king on a daily basis? Who was the one that stuck by his side and fought until the end? Who was the one to bring him back?

Not Azazel.

Who fled at the first hint of war? Who disappeared for centuries and dared not return until the Demon King ruled over the Surface once more?

Not Ghirahim.

"Congratulations...." the lord hissed through bared teeth.

...
A wave of nausea washed over Link after he forced his consciousness to claw its way out of a tormenting nightmare and into reality. Groaning tiredly, he turned on his side and snuggled further into the blanket wrapped around his body. He was somewhat comfortable, and just wanted to go back to sleep. Perhaps he could force himself to dream of something nice, although the constant squeaking and rocking wasn't going to help him get back-

Wait... a blanket? ... Squeaking and rocking?

Eyes snapping wide open, the blonde bolted upright with a gasp. Frantically, he twisted his head from side to side, searching for an explanation, only to find he that he was alone. A thin white canvas seemed to trap him from outside world, leaving him secluded in the relatively small space.

I'm going back... I... I'm going back...

Curling up into a small, tight ball, Link started to sob. He didn't want to go back; he would have done anything if it meant not going back.

Why were the gods so cruel?

Were they punishing him, forcing him to suffer for his failure?

Why was he the chosen one anyway? He was only sixteen, a boy, when he was sent off on his mission. Why send a child to do a hero's work?

"Link? Are you awake?" a voice asked hesitantly.

He refused to respond and continued lamenting the fact he had been caught.

"Link?"

This time, the distraught blonde lifted his head and gazed in the direction of that voice, which was becoming even more familiar by the second. Eyebrows shooting up into stunned arches, Link gawked in disbelief.

"I... I know you've been through a lot, and... I'm here for you. I want to help you, like old times." Pipit cracked a small smile after pushing his head through the slit of the cream colored fabric.

"I... I don't understand... You... you're supposed to be... dead..." Link stammered out in a dry, cracked voice.

Tilting his head to the side in question, Pipit crawled through the slight opening his head had made in the fabric. The entire structure both men were riding in briefly shifted to one side as Pipit settled next to Link.

"Link, I can assure you that I'm not dead. I-"

"This is all just a trick!" he squeaked, scooting away from his former classmate like a defenseless, frightened animal. "You're just playing with me, demon!"

"Link, please listen to reason! I am-"

"No, you aren't He's dead! I saw him die! I saw it!" He was in an all out tantrum, shouting as loud as he could with his hands over his ears. Several times, Pipit considered shouting back at the broken hero, but he decided against it. Yelling would most likely make Link even more upset than he already was.

"How can I prove that I'm the real Pipit and not a demon?" he said calmly, reaching out to place a hand on Link's shoulder. Link twitched away from the gentle touch as if his was expecting pain.

"I-I want ma-my ss-ss-sword." he stuttered, flinching as a second hand rested on his aching shoulder
Okay, so I know this has taken me a while to get out, but... I've been really busy lately. *sigh* All these wonderful (hard as fuck) solos don't learn themselves... Heh. I'm also getting a better idea of where the story is going. I really can't wait for the end! I actually have two different endings in mind. One will kick you in the feels while the other... Well, they both might kick you on the feels.
© 2013 - 2024 zelda3469
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meranani's avatar
me gusta mucho esta historia quiero ver la siguiente parte