Chapter 10: The Order of the Diamond Table

Ghirahim was delighted by the look of horror on Link's face. So he can care about something besides his goddess. The demon lord restrained himself from dancing for joy. He was quite sure it would kill the mood.

Link finally tore his gaze away from the redeads and looked at Ghirahim, his expression troubled.

"Do you understand, now?" Ghirahim asked. "Why we want out so badly? Why the Seal must be broken?"

Link nodded.

"Then—will you help me?"

Link searched his expression, his eyes darting back and forth, up and down. He nodded firmly.

Ghirahim felt as if the sun were shining on him, even in this forsaken place. He didn't try to hide the joy he felt this time. He gave Link a radiant smile. "Maybe you really are a hero, then." He held his hand out again. "Let me show you a few more things and then we'll go back to the surface. How does does that sound, hmm?"

Ghirahim could tell that Link was tired by the time they returned to the surface. The Sky Hero had hardly seemed to notice anything Ghirahim had shown him after the redeads. Which Ghirahim supposed was to be expected.

Ghirahim stood near the Sky Hero in the secure room. "So here we are again." He wanted to ask him more, to find out more about what he was thinking, but he restrained himself. It would be better to let him think on all of that for a while, before he asked anything of him.

"I imagine you should probably get some rest. Oh, and I need to know what you can eat from the surface. I can't fetch you any more of that sky food, and your supplies are running low."

Link made a writing gesture, holding his left hand over the palm of his right.

Perhaps he will write something? That would be an improvement! "I think I get your meaning this time."

Ghirahim snapped, retrieving some paper and charcoal from one of his teleportation caches.

Link took the items to the table and began—drawing. Ghirahim felt disappointment, but waited to see what Link would draw. After he had finished, he held the drawing up to Ghirahim. Ghirahim recognized the things he had drawn. Erla had shown Ghirahim several types of plant that the kikwis ate, and these were two of the same plants he had shown them. One was a large round fruit that grew out of leaves on the ground. Another was what they called a Deku Pear, a fruit with both edible flesh and seeds.

"Ah, that's easy, then. I guess you can eat some of the same things we've been able to from here. These plant-things really are rather tasty." Ghirahim snapped, and retrieved several of the giant Deku Pears and the round green fruits from his food cache. They appeared on the table.

Link nodded. He looked up at Ghirahim, his expression troubled. Ghirahim leaned towards the Sky Hero. "Have some food and get some rest. We'll talk again later." He smiled. "Or, at least I will."

Ghirahim teleported outside of the room and saw the three demon guards. The highest ranking one, Darrow, tilted his head when he saw Ghirahim. He was of the bokoblin variety of demons, with a long, wide waist, short legs, floppy ears, and teeth like a shark's. "My lord, it is good to know you have returned safely from the trip you planned to the Lower Realms with the Sky Hero. I have been thinking, though, and I wonder—is it not dangerous for you to be in that room with him as often as you plan to be? I noticed he tried to attack you almost as soon as you entered the room-"

"Thank you for your concern, Darrow. But I assure you I can handle him without his weapons."

"Very well, my lord," Darrow said.

Ghirahim took the time to walk through the compound until he exited the building. This building and the adjacent building were hidden in the forest. They were the only stone structures the demons had built on the surface. They also had a large number of concealment spells on them to hide them from the nosy Sheikahs. In addition, the sorcerers had set up a communication crystal between this area and the pit, which had proven quite useful so far.

He went to the room he had taken for himself and collapsed into an armchair. Ghirahim sorted through the day's events in his mind thus far, considering how he felt about the situation. He was—infatuated with the Sky Hero. This could be a problem. He closed his eyes and smiled, though. The elf was so fascinating! And there was a tiny blossom of hope in his heart that Link really would help Ghirahim break the Seal somehow. He would have to be careful, to prevent himself from becoming completely obsessed with the Sky Hero, though. He thought—the way the elf had blushed when he looked at him—that he probably felt the same. My overwhelming beauty must have overcome whatever compulsion Hylia would have placed in him to dislike us. And yet—why do I feel this way? I find him attractive, yes, but always before the desire for the blood of my enemies would overpower any such feelings I might have for them. If I felt as I usually do, my agreement with Fi would have been the only thing keeping him among the living. The Shard of Truth was silent on the answer, which meant there was something external to himself to explain it. And that bothered him. I shall have to investigate whether irresistible good looks are one of the Sky Hero's powers...

There was a knock on the door. Ghirahim sighed. "Yes? Is that you, Orynx?"

"Yes."

Ghirahim composed his expression. "Please enter."

Orynx entered the room. "The nobles have asked-"

Ghirahim grimaced, and rose from the chair. "I think I can guess. The council room is not far from here. I'll walk with you there."

"Where is Ferrik?" Orynx asked. "I would have expected to see him around here."

Ghirahim waved a hand. "I've asked him to search around Hylia's forest temple for clues on where she and her guardian have gone."

Orynx looked doubtful. "They probably left using some magic. Could we really expect to find a trail?"

"I don't know, but I'd hate to lose track of her simply because I hadn't checked the obvious, and Ferrik is an extremely skilled tracker. If there is any trace of them leaving the temple, he will find it. Of course, I will also have to continue my research on her. If I can find out where she's going, I won't need to know where she's been."
Orynx seemed to consider this. "If they took her to one temple, they may be taking her to another."

"True. But Hylia has hundreds of temples scattered among the surface. Many of the surface dwellers still worship her."

"It would probably be another old one. I'd guess she must have left something in them, before she went up to the sky. That one you followed her to yesterday? I looked it up—it is well over a thousand years old."

Ghirahim was glad that Orynx had been keeping himself occupied while he had been stuck under Ghirahim's shield. He knew the guard hated to feel idle. "Hmmm, yes. That would considerably limit the possibilities. I will have to look into that."

They arrived at the council room, which was easily the size of the enormous throne room of the palace. In the center was a diamond shaped table which was dwarfed by the size of the room itself. Each side had two chairs. The table had originally been kept in a much smaller room in the palace, but Ghirahim had teleported it here when they first came to the surface.

Orynx grimaced when he saw it. Speaking quietly, he said, "I know I've told you this many times, my lord, but this is one of the worst ideas you ever had."

"That's where I have to disagree with you, Orynx. This is one of my best ideas." Ghirahim skipped over to the table and selected a chair at random to hop into. Orynx walked over to stand behind the chair.

The Order of the Diamond Table had made Ghirahim's life so much easier—he wondered why it hadn't occurred to him earlier. In a way, he had Sirin to thank for it. Not long after Sirin had been rendered harmless and assigned the sister he had hated so much as his ward, the demands had begun. The demands for heirs.

The nobles had explained that they had been spooked. They had explained, with exaggerated care, that while it was true that the last two rulers had not been in any way related to their predecessor, that it had been by a stroke of unimaginable fortune that this had not plunged the realm into chaos and war. And so they had demanded progeny from him. Of course, Ghirahim had responded by asking them politely, and then with veiled threats, to stay out of his personal life.

But the nobles had only become more insistent. It was then that Ghirahim had happened upon an idea to kill multiple redeads with a single flame. He had asked the annoyingly insistent nobles if they would like to be his heirs. And then he had offered them power. And that had silenced the demands.

Of course, he had then explained that since they were going to be his heirs, that he would do the choosing. But they would all have a chance. And of course there had to be an order of succession. Ghirahim heard footsteps and saw the first in line walking into the room. The portly Lord Grendel was a green demon who favored bright yellow clothing. He had also been one of the most annoyingly insistent of all the lords when the demands for progeny had begun. Ironically, he had been the only one of the nobles who hadn't been interested in inheriting the throne. Which was why Ghirahim had made him first in line. Ideally, the first in the line of succession should be the least likely to try murdering him to inherit the throne. Of course, from what he had gleaned in his questioning, most of the others were not likely to try killing him, either. But none of them had been against the idea of taking the throne, in the event that something dire did happen to him. It had also been his revenge on Lord Grendel, for the lord had tried—repeatedly-to arrange a marriage between him and any and all eligible ladies he could convince to try for the throne.

"Good day, Lord Grendel."

The green demon sat opposite to Ghirahim, giving him a cheerful smile. "I do adore these council meetings! They make me positively want to leap for joy!"

The lies crackled through Ghirahim, causing him to scowl. Not that this behavior was unexpected, or anything new. But the sensation of any lie told to him was unpleasant. He knew this was Lord Grendel's revenge on him, though, for giving him a position he didn't want.

"Oh, and I see there's no food," Lord Grendel said. "But that's okay. I'm not hungry. Not even remotely hungry."

More lies. Ghirahim placed his head in his hands. "There will be food later." In a way, he even admired Lord Grendel's sense of humor. When he wasn't contemplating how satisfying it would be to stick a dagger in his back, that was. But I musn't kill my heir—that would be ever so inconvenient...

Two sets of footsteps, and two more nobles took their seats. Amelia sat next to lord Grendel, while the red bokoblin Lady Pyre took a seat to the left of Ghirahim and Amelia.

"Hello, Amelia." Ghirahim said.

"Ah," Lord Grendel said. "Good day to you, Lady Sirin. I hope your brother hasn't been too difficult to care for lately."

Ghirahim perked up, relieved that Grendel wasn't talking to him anymore and emitting his long string of lies.

Amelia kept her eyes on her embroidery project. "As I've said before, I do wish you would just call me by my first name, Lord Grendel. Or you could call me Lady Amelia, just like our Lord Ghirahim uses his first name with his title. I don't like to be reminded that I am related to the Sirins." A smile came to her lips. "Except you may mention my brother any time you like. Because he hasn't been any trouble at all. Really, I actually like him better the way he is now. My servants say he is ever so docile."

Amelia was the second in line. Ghirahim had asked her some very specific questions-after what Lord Sirin had tried to do to him, he had felt a great deal of suspicion towards her. It had been difficult not to-she looked very much like her brother. They had been fraternal twins. But he had determined that she was quite unlike her brother in anything but appearance. It would have pained Lord Sirin, if he had still been able to understand such things, to know that Ghirahim had given her so much power and influence.

"Sorry, milady. It would not be proper," the portly green demon said, wringing his hands.

"You focus too much on what is proper," Lady Pyre said, examining the spikes on her club. She was fourth in line.

"At least I focus on it at all," Grendel said. "That is so crass, taking such a weapon to the table like that. I know a real lady, such as the lovely Lady Sirin here, would never contemplate such a thing."

"For shame, Lord Grendel," Amelia said. "That is only because I would not be able to lift it. I'm sure it must be a great comfort to you, Lady Pyre."

"It is the greatest comfort, Amelia," she said. "And I think it is honest, Lord Grendel, not crass. I do not hide the fact that I am ready to defend myself against any who threaten me."

The fourth in line walked in. Lord Grendel turned and looked away from the left side, since the blue bokoblin Lord Rend had seated himself next to Lady Pyre. He was holding a large machete.

"Ah, I see you are embroidering a lovely placemat, Lady Sirin. Let's see what delightful composition you have—augh!" Grendel's eyes widened. "That's indecent!"

"I can't see why," Lady Sirin said. "The expression of love between two people is a beautiful thing."

Ghirahim looked to the three empty seats. There was actually only one more of their number he was expecting. Of the other two, the fifth in line was permanently indisposed, having been hacked apart quite thoroughly when he had led an ill-planned attack against the Sheikahs. The sixth in line (currently the fifth) had chosen to maintain the palace while the rest of them were away.

There was the sound of footsteps, and the tapping of a cane. It was the seventh (currently the sixth) in line. Lord Terrin, who liked to call himself The Faceless One, was actually the last demon that Ghirahim hoped would ever have access to the throne. Well over a thousand years old, he had been one of the most trusted lieutenants of Demise. He was the only demon from that ancient era who still lived. Ghirahim couldn't describe the lanky green demon's face, and that was not only because he always wore a mask, but also because he no longer had one.

Interestingly, he had taken the title of Terrin the Faceless long before he had lost his actual face. As a servant of Demise, he had viewed himself as nothing more than an extension of his master's will. Ghirahim had been told that Terrin used to wear a bone mask that was entirely featureless except for the gaping round eye-holes. These days, he no longer bothered with even having eye-holes, as he no longer had eyes. When Hylia had killed Demise, he had vowed to be the incarnation of his master's hate in the world. In a strange twist of fate, he had later actually lost his face when he had been captured by Thressan the Torturer, and held by the insane king for an entire year before he had somehow managed to escape. Once Thressan's redeads had finished their grisly work, Terrin hadn't had any face left to speak of. Terrin spoke very little of his time as Thressan's captive. To him, the experience that would have driven most to insanity had simply been an intensely irritating obstacle to fulfilling his one, all-consuming goal. A goal which had only bloodshed, pain, and suffering at its end.

There was a reason why Ghirahim had made him one of the Order he had created, though. Keep your friends close, and your enemies close as well. Someday, Lord Terrin would have to meet his death, and Ghirahim planned to arrange that, one way or another. It would be much easier if the Faceless One were within reach to do that. Ghirahim would have felt more guilty about it, except he knew that Lord Terrin planned the same for him. And the Faceless One was still a formidable fighter, despite his blindness. Still, Ghirahim would rather deal with the Sheikahs first, and in that, there was an intersection between his goals and Terrin's. And the ancient demon knew a great deal of useful information about the Sheikahs and their leader, Tala.

"Good day, Lord Terrin," Ghirahim said.

"It will be a good day once I can kill something of Hylia's, young Fool," Terrin said in his raspy voice, seating himself next to an empty chair on the last side of the table.

"I'm sure that's on the agenda for discussion," Ghirahim said cheerfully, ignoring the appellation Terrin favored for him.

"It most certainly is, Lord Terrin," Lord Grendel said, looking down at his papers. Ghirahim liked to call the portly demon the Lord of Boring Paperwork in his head, although he had given him the official title of Lord of Records and Correspondence. Each of the nobles in his Order had been given power over something that they found more interesting than Ghirahim did. In addition, they had a vote for certain other decisions, although Ghirahim had carefully stipulated that this did not extend to decisions about marriage, partners, or progeny, among other things.

"Why don't we get started?" Ghirahim said. "Let us begin with the customary question: does anyone plan to kill anyone else here during the course of this meeting?"

There was the usual series of 'no's', followed by the typical "I plan to kill Lord Ghirahim!" lie by Grendel. And, as usual, Lord Terrin said nothing. Ghirahim did not press him on the question he always refused to answer. All of them knew that the only relevant information to decide that for the ancient demon was whether one was being more useful to him than they were being in his way. And of course he couldn't know that before any decisions had been made.

"Now, why don't we discuss your thoughts on my current agreement with the sword spirit Fi. I do believe their was some opposition-"

"I voted no!" Lord Grendel said, the words scraping at Ghirahim.

Interesting, Ghirahim thought. So his was the only yes vote from these five.

"We could have taken her," Lady Pyre said. "You gave up too easily."

"Yes," Lord Rend complained. "You should have put the entire force of your magic towards destroying her."

"The problem with that being that I suspected, from the power I detected from her deflection of the lighting bolt, that she would have survived even that," Ghirahim said. "And I can only precisely direct certain types of my magic. What you suggest would have destroyed everyone else in the pit, even if it didn't destroy her."

"Soldiers are expendable," Terrin said.

"Soldiers are finite," Ghirahim responded.

"I think I understand your concerns," Amelia said. "And perhaps I was hasty with my vote. But if this sword spirit really is as powerful as you say, we shall come to regret her continued existence. Even if her corporeal form never lays a finger on us, it is the sword form that is known for the unlimited destruction that it can bring upon us."

"Ah, but in her own way, Fi has solved that for us as well," Ghirahim said. "When she asked the Sky Hero not to kill a single one of us."

"And now that you have both the Sky Hero and the sword, young Fool, what are you going to do with them?" Terrin scraped his long claws against each other.

"Turn them against Hylia, of course," Ghirahim said.

The ancient demon laughed. "Oh, really? Let me guess-you are too soft to kill them."

"It is not always necessary to kill all of your foes in order to accomplish vengeance, Lord Terrin." Ghirahim watched the five nobles seated at the table. Of course, Terrin's expression was always unreadable, but the other four appeared to be considering his words.

Ghirahim continued. "What would hurt Hylia more? Simply taking her weapons away from her? Or stabbing her in the back with them?"

Terrin slowly scraped his claws across the table. "An interesting thought. But this all seems unnecessarily complicated. I have learned in my long life not to make any plan too complex, lest I get tangled in it. That is a lesson I think you have not yet learned, young Fool."

"And I imagine you would have me kill them both."

"Very astute. In fact, I think I will insist upon it."

"And does anyone else have anything to say-" Ghirahim began.

Terrin waved a hand dismissively. "I tire of this game, young Fool. You will do what I ask, or you will regret it."

"That is not how this works, Lord Terrin," Ghirahim said. "You will-"

Terrin rose from his seat. "You are right. Sometimes your enemies are still too useful to kill. But I think it is time that I taught you a lesson. One you will not forget. How attached are you to your face, vain young Fool? Would it bother you if I shredded it until it looked like what is left of mine? I'll leave your eyes, though, and force you to look at it every day in the mirror!" The ancient demon laughed and drew his sword.

Ghirahim rose and drew his rapier, but Orynx moved from where he had been standing silently. Orynx moved towards Terrin as the ancient demon darted towards Ghirahim.

Orynx clashed the Unbreakable Sword against Terrin's broadsword. Terrin hit the other's sword repeatedly, slicing in unpredictable circular motions around the sword until he had backed Orynx against the wall. Terrin placed his sword over Orynx's throat.

"Thought you could beat me with my Master's old sword, eh? That sword is useless to you! Without even a spark of your own magic, that sword is like any other for you." Terrin hissed. "You are a failure and a disgrace to our line. But you were useful to me once. Stay out of my way, and I will let you live."

Ghirahim realized that Terrin was telling the truth. For some reason, he was giving Orynx a chance to back down. He didn't have time to ponder the reason, though.

"Do as he says, Orynx," Ghirahim said, looking over at the guard. "I will handle this."

Ghirahim could tell Orynx didn't like the situation. But the guard remained still. "Yes, my lord."

Terrin moved away from the guard and turned towards Ghirahim. "By now you should know that I am not simply a blind, frail old demon. Did it never occur to you, a sorcerer, that magic can be used to see those things I need to see quite well?"

"Are you sure you want to fight me?" Ghirahim said. "You will lose."

"You can't be serious," Lord Terrin said. He ran at Ghirahim and hit his broadsword against the black rapier.

Ghirahim felt the tingle of magic and raised a shield just as four daggers crashed into it.

Terrin crashed his sword against Ghirahim's red shield and and made a motion with his hand, lifting the daggers back into the air.

Terrin hissed and hit the shield with his sword several more times. Growling with frustration, he lifted his left hand again, and the Unbreakable Sword yanked itself out of Orynx's grasp. It moved in jerky motions, as if Terrin was finding it almost too heavy to lift with his magic. Ghirahim could sense that he was not a very powerful sorcerer.

But that sword will be able to break my shield. On the other hand, if he touches it, I will know everything he knows about sword-fighting.

Ghirahim waited patiently until Terrin grabbed the sword. Then he jumped out of the way as the ancient demon brought the sword down on the shield in a downward slice, shattering it. Terrin ran back towards the table, causing the other nobles to scatter away from where they had previously been frozen. The lanky green demon jumped onto the table and launched himself off of it towards Ghirahim. Ghirahim back-flipped out of the way as his mind sifted through all of Terrin's sword-fighting knowledge. But then he realized he had always had what he needed to win this fight. He dissolved his rapier and summoned his thick, long diamond-patterned sword from a teleportation cache.

Terrin gave a short laugh. "Can you even swing that thing, young Fool? Looks a bit too large for you."

Ghirahim grinned. "Why don't you come over here and find out?"

Terrin ran at him and Ghirahim dodged, moving behind the ancient demon and kicking him in the back. Terrin fell forward, impaling the stone floor tiles with the Unbreakable Sword. Ghirahim placed the tip of his sword at the base of Terrin's neck, drawing a small amount of blood. This was a tactic that Demise had used primarily against those who fought for him, rather than against him. To discipline them. Ghirahim waited to see if it would have the desired effect.

"Don't move. I could kill you right now," Ghirahim said from behind him. "Maybe I should. But I would very much like to hear how we could destroy the Sheikahs first. Would you like to help us kill some Sheikahs, Lord Terrin? If not, I could-"

"I—yield," Terrin said, still kneeling on the floor, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. His featureless mask stared straight ahead, towards the wall and away from Ghirahim. "If I may ask—where did you-?"

"You may not ask," Ghirahim said. "Get up."

"Yes Mas—my lord." Terrin rose, gesturing towards the Unbreakable Sword on the floor. "I believe that belongs to you." Then he turned and walked back towards his seat as if nothing had happened.

Ghirahim turned towards the other four members of the Order, who had bunched themselves into a corner, with the two bokoblins Lady Pyre and Lord Rend standing in front with their weapons ready. The demon lord dissolved the diamond-patterned sword back into his teleportation cache and gave them a cheerful smile. "Lord Terrin has been ever so kind to give us all some exercise. These meetings can go so long, and the way the blood slows in our veins while sitting for such long periods of time can be ever so tiring. But I think we are all feeling alert now! So let's finish our deliberations, shall we?"