Chapter Text
“What is that?” Zelda's question echoed against the chamber’s stone walls. Link’s skin crawled in the room’s oppressive aura, which grew thicker and darker each step towards the center. There lay the floating mummy of a massive, red-haired man entangled in coils of blue light. In its grasp was a behemoth black blade with wicked, diamond shaped edges.
Looking closer, the light’s source was the severed stump of a glowing arm poised to pin the mummy down by its chest. Before Link could make anything of this the glowing arm sealing the mummy seemed to lose what strength it retained and fell to the ground - a stone rolling from its grasp clink.
Link watched with bated breath as Zelda picked up the stone, which shone with golden light, but his eyes were quickly drawn back to the mummy as it began to convulse. The mummy’s head snapped to face them, searing red gaze sending Link’s hand straight to the hilt of the master sword. Thick, crimson tendrils of malice spewed from the mummy in a geyser and Link jumped to block Zelda from a whip of it aimed for her head. He met the column with the master sword and could only groan in agony as it crawled up his arm, searing his skin. It dispersed in the next moment, leaving Link’s sword arm a blackened mess and his blade with a massive stain of malice. He panted with exertion - the direct exposure had taken its toll.
The dry fibers of the mummy’s musculature crackled as it lurched upright, heaving its enormous sword above its head. Link grit his teeth and braced himself to meet it. Time seemed to slow as the two blades clashed. There was a moment of friction, then the master sword shattered. Pieces of it flew in every direction, the splintered tip soaring past the mummy’s face and slicing a thin line across its cheek. It carelessly discarded its blade at Link’s feet, musculature crackling as it rose to its full height.
“Link!” Zelda cried out, only a few steps behind him.
“Was that the sword that seals the darkness?” The mummy rasped, “A blade that shatters so easily against my power cannot save you from me.”
“Zelda…” groaned the mummy, “You, who carries that fragile sword, are Link. Rauru placed his faith in you, and that was all you could do?”
By now, the shallow cut in its cheek had steamed shut and Link noticed for the first time the gem glowing in the mummy’s forehead - nearly identical to the one in Zelda’s hands.
“How do you… know our names?” asked Zelda.
Wordlessly, the mummy drew a ball of its power towards its chest, then thrust it in a blast at the ceiling. The cavern shook perilously around them as the walls and floor began to fracture. The center of the room plummeted into an unseen abyss, taking the mummy with it. Weakened by the malice that had leached the life from his arm, Link fell to one knee next to the black blade the mummy discarded.
“Link!” Zelda called from behind him. The stone beneath her feet fractured and Link jumped after the falling princess without thought, reaching for her with his charred sword arm. As their fingers brushed something caught him by his other hand, halting his descent, and Zelda fell out of reach. Link’s breath caught. A golden glow emanating from the stone she still carried enveloped her body as she fell, and then she was gone.
A different light beamed down from above and overtook Link’s senses. The last thing he felt before falling unconscious was a furred hand clasping his own, and the feeling of being lifted.
When Link next awoke, he was alone. Unless, of course, you count the master sword in his hand. He ran a thumb over the familiar hilt and-
That was not the master sword. In fact, it was the sword that the mummy - who must have been Ganon, in retrospect - had been wielding. The unfamiliar sword nearly eclipsed him in size. The cross guard, resembling the silhouette of a keese in flight, could likely span the width of his shoulders. The blade, black and serrated into three diamond-like sections, rose to just above his hip and brought the (of course) diamond shaped pommel to his sternum. An inverted triforce was inlaid into the metal just above the guard, where a red diamond with a single, deep crack twinkled at Link.
Now that he was a bit more awake Link determined he was definitely not alone. The sword had a presence - a very angry, evil one at that. Turmoil rolled off of it in waves up his arm and numbed his hand.
That… was not his fucking hand.
Link released the blade (released, not dropped - he was laying in the dirt) and stared at the unfamiliar appendage with a dull sort of interest that spoke to how often crazy shit like this happened to him. He hoped at least this time he’d been asleep for a few hours instead of a century. And… yep, he still had his memory. Though, he seemed to be void of all equipment and clothing besides his underwear.
He sighed and took the blade in hand once more as he stood. Immediately it resumed blasting him with vitriol which Link did his best to ignore. There was doubtlessly going to be some sort of opponent outside of this… cave? And he was not going to fight it with a tree branch if he had a choice.
Listen , he thought hard at the sword, trying his best to mollify it with flattery, who would choose to wield a tree branch over you ?
His early days of swinging twigs, leaves still attached, at the Bokoblins on the great plateau came to mind. Yes, he wished he’d had this magnificent sword then. Though perhaps waking up with an evil sword would’ve given amnesiac Link the wrong idea about who he was supposed to be. Probably for the best.
I promise I’m pretty good with swords, I’ll take good care of you. He caressed his thumb on the hilt’s leathers.
It might’ve been his imagination, but Link thought the sword seemed mildly less hateful - the red diamond above the guard twinkling a bit brighter.
I am leagues better than any blade you could find in this accursed plane, the sword agreed, preening. Link couldn’t find it in himself to startle, too used people blasting their voices directly into his mind.
Link couldn’t think of a reply and decided the matter was settled - he would be wielding the evil master sword.
Evil master sword?! The evil master sword sputtered, Cease at once! I will not be compared to such a fragile blade! I am the demon Ghirahim… I much prefer to be indulged by my full title, Lord Ghirahim, but I’m not fussy.
Link raised an eyebrow at the sword. ‘Fussy’ was exactly the impression he’d gotten so far. He was beginning to regret opening dialogue with the sword.
The sword- Lord Ghirahim’s rage battered his senses like the waterfalls of Lake Floria and Link’s thoughts drifted back to the tree branches, weighing the pros and cons.
Ghirahim collected himself before Link could make a decision. Despite your… impudence, I imagine we have a similar goal at the moment. Revenge upon Ganondorf!
Interesting. Link supposed Ganon had discarded the sword rather carelessly.
I shall have to overlook your dreadful personality for the time being. It seems we have no choice but to work together.
Great! Matter settled.
He had the feeling Lord Ghirahim would usually have more to say but the sword demon’s presence had grown weaker with each word he spoke, now feeling almost dormant in Link’s grip. Link considered again the cracked gem in the cross guard - perhaps that had something to do with it? He’d have to figure out a way to repair it; traveling alone had long lost its charm.
Link considered this and many other things as he prepared to march forward. He expected to feel weary at the prospect of trudging forth on another grueling adventure with none of his equipment and seemingly leeched of his hard-earned strength, but instead his heart fluttered with the familiar glee of finding a shiny new weapon. Link’s high spirits dampened slightly when he recalled the shattered master sword - he’d put so much work into upgrading the thing in the Great Deku Tree’s gauntlets.
Oh well , he thought, unable to tame his excitement as his eyes traveled down the length of the serrated blade. He bet Ghirahim could do some cool shit - maybe even cooler than the laser beam Link could shoot from the master sword when he was at full strength. He smiled at the thought.
“Ah, Link. Finally, you wake.” A new voice spoke into Link’s brain.
Here we go again.
The furry ghost turned out to be Hyrule’s first king, a Zonai man called Rauru. He told Link that the strange new arm was his, and tasked him with completing a handful of shrines across the Great Sky Island to unlock its full power. Rauru also explained that he only had enough strength to lift Link and his sword from the rubble of Hyrule Castle, and that was why he’d woken up naked. Apparently Rauru’s arm had grabbed the nearest sword, assuming it would be Link’s, explaining the mix up. He imagined the master sword still lay beneath the castle.
Link managed to finish the four shrines without much fanfare (unless you count capsizing a few fan boats and rocket launching an innocent Korok into the sky) and returned to the Temple of Time by sunset, where he decided to wait for dawn to descend to the land below. Shadows cast by his campfire danced across the stone walls of the Temple of Time. It was a cloudless night, which lent well to Link’s lofty view of the horizon from the pier protruding from the temple’s Northern end. Hyrule Castle now floated above the land alongside a smattering of new sky islands. Ghirahim had not spoken to him again, though the sword’s irritation had flickered weakly against his mind in response to being used to cut firewood.
Sitting by the fire, Link thumbed at one of the sword’s points. It was sharper than he expected, and a droplet of blood welled from his finger pad. He wiped it away on the fabric of his new toga - an archaic looking thing appropriated from a convenient chest.
The sword’s red diamond began to glow.
Your blood… the demon’s voice brushed against his ear. More of it. Spill more of your blood on my blade - it strengthens me.
‘Strengthen’ sounded like a good idea. A little blood loss was way less of a hassle than three gauntlets of monsters with no equipment. Hopefully he’d get some cool laser beam action out of this.
Link obligingly sliced his palm against the blade’s edge, then wrestled an apple out of the Purah Pad to munch on and healed the small wound.
How did you-? Nevermind. This will do nicely. The sword’s gem began to glow in earnest, casting red light on their surroundings reminiscent of a blood moon. The rivulet of blood dripping down the blade steamed away as if it were evaporating. Before his eyes the crack in the gem sealed over, leaving its faceted face sleek and unblemished. Link had known Ghirahim was alive before, but now that he felt what must be the sword’s full aura he realized how dampened it had been before.
Link waited for something more to happen, but nothing did. The gem’s light dwindled to a healthy twinkle, nothing whispering to him besides the night’s cool breeze.
Can you shoot lasers now? He thought.
The sword did not reply.
Link sat and stared at the sword for a while longer. When he got bored of that, he gazed into the fire, and was eventually lulled to sleep.
Once Girahim was certain the boy had been claimed by slumber he emerged from the sword and took in his first breath in thousands of years. Mercifully, he had not been conscious for the wait - instead feeling his first flickers of awareness as Ganondorf swung him towards the master sword. He was quite proud of the fact she had shattered against him despite eons of entombment, though much of that feat was owed to Ganondorf’s magic flowing through him.
It never would, again. Ghirahim had been discarded. But why ? In two lifetimes now, he had been tossed about like a toy by his master. His jaw ached from its furious clenching.
Ghirahim teleported as far as he could from Link (and his sword) and screamed bloody murder until his throat gave out, flinging summoned daggers this way and that. Sleeping birds scattered in a storm of squawks.
Panting, Ghirahim paused to inspect his demolished surroundings. He’d already determined they were somewhere in the sky, but this place looked like nothing like he’d ever seen. He didn’t think this was Skyloft - the ruins didn’t resemble anything close to Hylian architecture. He was quite familiar with the style after all that time spent trouncing about in temples on the surface.
Ugh, temples. His mind was brought back to the new Link. Where to even start?
The boy’s blood had rejuvenated him. He had also slain Ghirahim and his master in a previous life, though the current Link seemed to be worlds different than the Link Ghirahim was familiar with; dressed more like a Bokoblin than a green gnome and oddly enamored by Ghirahim’s blade. As he should be.
He threw another dagger. It flew with such force that the tree it struck split in twain. Ghirahim blew his ruffled bangs from his face with a puff of air and began to pace.
“I cannot tolerate this boy as a master,” he spoke to the trees. “He has no decorum and reeks of the wilderness! He followed every command of Rauru’s dratted ghost without question. What sort of master has no will of his own?”
He was leashed to his sword, unable to move it himself without a great deal of hassle. Eons ago in the lifetime before Demise’s resurrection it had been sealed in his body, allowing Ghirahim to move freely throughout the world via a complicated process Ghirahim had no hope of replicating on his own in such an unfamiliar world. He would need time, resources, and minions.
Ghirahim stopped in his tracks. An idea was rattling around in his mind, an idea so brilliant that he could only giggle and beam in delight.
Yes, that would do nicely.