Chapter 13: Loyalties

"Would you care to explain how that is?" Ghirahim asked. Of course, he knew the words were true, or at least Terrin believed them to be true. So either he has an incredible ability, or a really bizarre misconception. I must find out more about this.

Terrin chuckled. "Curious now, aren't you?"

"Who wouldn't be? I have never heard of anything like that before."

"I believe that would be because it is an ability unique to myself."

"But how did you come to have it?"

"I refuse to discuss this anymore until we discuss when you will give me the sword."

Ghirahim frowned. "I need—to think about that."

"Then let me know when you have finally come to a decision. And then, assuming it is the right one, we can talk more about where I obtained my very useful power. And anything else you might wish to know from me."

Ghirahim scowled. He knew exactly what the ancient demon was trying to do. "You might want to reconsider your reticence, Lord Terrin. Maybe some of the information you are so inconveniently withholding is important to my decision. And maybe I am not yet confident in your estimation of your own abilities."

Terrin leaned back in his grey chair. "Fair enough, Lord Sword. In that case, we shall precondition your giving me the sword on my being correct about my ability. If my explanation does not satisfy you, I will not expect you to give me the sword. I am that confident that I am right, and that I have the evidence you require. If I am wrong, then I am a fool who does not deserve to wield you. But first, before I explain my ability, you must decide if you will give me the the sword, assuming I can do what I have stated. Do you agree?"

Ghirahim nodded. "Very well. But I still need time to think about this. I can't give you my answer right now. Will you be able to wait?"

"Yes, but don't keep me waiting too long, Lord Sword. I have spent so much of my life waiting, and I grow weary of it."

"It shouldn't take me longer than a week to decide."

"A week I can tolerate. That is not so long. I will hold you to that, though."

Ghirahim nodded. "Of course."

"Good," Terrin said. His blank mask turned to face forward. "I eagerly anticipate your response, then."

Ghirahim turned to leave.

"There is one thing I might be willing to discuss with you currently, Lord Sword."

Ghirahim stopped, and turned around. "And that is?"

"Not related to anything about my powers, of course. If I may ask, how much do you remember of your time with Demise, and—the one before him?"

Ghirahim smiled. If Lord Terrin was offering any kind of information for answering that question, he was going to take that offer. The ancient demon's knowledge was always useful. He considered how to describe the memories he had of that time. "The same amount I remember from all of my time as a sword only. I remember all of the battles, though I did not keep track of the likely large amount of time I spent sheathed. I know what my wielders were named and what they looked like. I have some impressions of their personalities, though nothing as specific about their goals or objectives. I could not recount to you their specific reasons for what they did, or anything they said or thought. Most of the things a person might consider important about history are nothing more than vague impressions to me."

"Yes, I thought you might say something like that." Terrin clicked his claws together. "It saddens me, you see, to be the only person in the world who still understands just how brilliant my master was."

"Well, there are the histories-," Ghirahim began.

Terrin cut him off with a laugh. "Those are so filled with inaccuracies and lies about my master that they don't tell the half of it."

"Then why haven't you bothered to correct them?" Ghirahim asked.

"Because most of them are there due to his express wishes. Demise knew that some might not approve of his actions, however sensible they were. In order to prevent his name from being dragged through the mud even more by those types than it inevitably would be, he concealed certain facts about himself and others. Would you like to know, Lord Sword, how Demise really came to be king?"

This should be interesting. "Certainly."

"Can you keep a secret, then? As I hope I've already made clear, I don't want any of this to become common knowledge."

"Understood. I will tell no one."

"Good. Well, then let us start with how he came to have a disagreement with his closest and dearest friend, King Arthur."

Terrin's mask turned to face the window. "This was well before the war, of course, even before I was born. I know of it only because he explained it to me, and to the others who served him with unshakable loyalty. So we would understand his motivations better, and therefore be better at carrying out his will."

"That makes sense, I suppose," Ghirahim said.

"Yes, it was very practical of him. Anyway, back to their disagreement. It might not surprise you to learn that it was about Hylia. You see, as seemingly benevolent as she was in those days, my master realized her true potential for destruction, even then. He urged Arthur to extract a vow from her, that she would never directly attack a demigod."

"A demigod? What is that?" Ghirahim asked.

"A type of creature extinct from the world," Terrin responded. "Both Arthur and Demise were demigods. There were a few others, as well. All demons. They were the ones who Din chose among mortals to imbue her greatest powers in."

"Why were they all demons?"

Terrin shrugged. "Who knows? Demise wondered about that, too. But even before they left this world, the three golden goddesses did not have much contact with the others in it, save Hylia. They were not much for explanation. Still, my master thought that perhaps Din had always intended to make more, from all the different kinds of creatures-but that when the three goddesses lost interest in this world, she left before completing the task. What I do know is that Hylia feared the power of the demigods, for they alone had the ability to capture her immortal form."

Terrin barked a short laugh. "Of course, thanks to my master, that is no longer such a hurdle, as her immortal form is long gone." The demon slashed his claws against the table next to his chair. "But that was to be his parting gift to the world."

Terrin rose from his chair and began to pace around the room. "Apologies. Talking of this evokes a deep emotion in me. I find I cannot be still."

Ghirahim watched him carefully as he moved, making sure he did not see the other demon's hands move toward his sword or daggers. He did not think he trusted Terrin's deep emotions, which seemed to consist mostly of anger and hate. Still, this is all very interesting. I shall have to see how I can make use of this information.

Pacing in front of the window, Terrin continued. "Arthur was the older of the two friends. Demise was born some twenty years before the three goddesses left. Arthur was several hundred years old by that time. They met when Demise was a little over one hundred years old. Arthur had become interested in meeting all of the other demigods, you see. He invited them all to his castle. Most of them talked with him only a short while before returning back to their homes. But Demise impressed Arthur. The king made him a knight of his round table." Terrin's mask turned to face Ghirahim. "My master had many happy memories from that long span of time. After some centuries, though, Demise came to worry about how Hylia might use her power. He brought his worries to his friend, who he assumed would be wiser than himself, who he assumed would have an answer for him. But Arthur had no answer, except to say that Hylia would never do what Demise was suggesting.

"It was then that Demise knew that only he could stand against Hylia. But in order to do that, he would have to be king. He would have to destroy the round table, and Arthur, his closest friend. Your histories tell you none of this, do they?"

"No, they do not." Much of what Terrin was discussing had fallen into myth and legend. And what those said was very different. "I think I begin to see where your story is not simply more detailed, but diverges from what we see in our histories. All of the histories say that Arthur lost his mind, and destroyed most of the round table himself-that only Demise, and a few others, survived."

Terrin actually giggled. "Yes, my master was so clever. It was a most believable scenario. After all, Arthur was the strongest of the demigods, and he had possession of the Unbreakable Sword."

"So then Demise had allies among the round table?"

"Well, no," Terrin said. "Initially, there was no one on the round table who would have helped him take the throne. But knights do risk their lives to help others, and one by one, they met with various—accidents."

"Intentional accidents?" Ghirahim asked.

Terrin laughed. "I see you get my meaning. But of course, Demise knew those knights would be replaced, one by one. He needed some way to counter Arthur's powerful allies. And so he began creating his own weapons. But he had no access to the magic that Arthur had wielded to create the Unbreakable Sword. And in the chamber of the round table, no knight could use their magic against any other, not even a demigod. So Demise created his weapons without using magic at all. Instead, he forged them with a perfect, unalterable loyalty."

Ghirahim gaped at the ancient demon. "Then he started replacing everyone on the round table with those like yourself." Not allies, then. Slaves.

"Yes. But not just with those like me," Terrin said. He laughed. "For I was one of those he placed on the round table. Really, despite what my master assured, I have never been able to quite get over my surprise that no one ever linked me to Sir Terrin the Timid."

Ghirahim could hardly believe what he was hearing. The histories had said that Terrin the Timid died by Arthur's hand just as most of the other knights did. He had been fairly well-known, unlike some of the ones who joined later, towards the end. He even had stories about him, but Ghirahim had never before connected the clumsy but kind-hearted character in those stories to the demon consumed by his desire for vengeance. It was a common name, after all.

"I did ask my master if he wished me to change my name, but he said that would be completely unnecessary. I suppose the mask helped."

"How did Demise get the knights replaced with whoever he wanted, though? Surely it was Arthur who chose them-"

"Yes. But Demise knew what traits Arthur looked for in those he chose for the round table. Intelligence. Bravery. Power. He cultivated those traits in us. He even turned our flaws to his advantage. Like my little nervous tic—my lack of ability to meet anyone's gaze was taken for modesty, another trait Arthur admired."

Ghirahim saw a very different story unfolding before him from the one in the legends. "Let me guess—there was never any relationship between Sir Lance and Lady Guinevere that drove Arthur insane."

"Only if by 'relationship', you mean that Lance was rather jealous of her. Everything I knew about him indicated that he had an affection besides friendship for Arthur that, sadly for him, was unrequited."

"I see," Ghirahim said. "So what, exactly, did happen?"

"It went like this—one day, when at last Demise had replaced nearly all the members of the round table with his own loyal servants, he stood in the spelled chamber and said there was something he wished them to address. And he brought up that topic, about having Hylia swear a vow to never directly attack the demigods, which Arthur had asked him never to speak of again. Arthur was rather angry at him, of course. But Demise simply smiled and said-'why don't we put it to a vote?'. And then all fifty-six of us stood with him and drew our weapons."

The tall green demon ran his hand through the patchy remains of the white hair on the top of his head as he paced across the room.

"What followed was a fierce battle. Normally, three against fifty-seven would not be a close fight at all. But Arthur, Guinevere, and Lance were all demigods, and though they could not use any magic against us save that of the Unbreakable Sword, their power made them robust and especially difficult to kill.

"I confess I was fairly useless for much of the battle. Compared to the others, I was still a bit clumsy with my blade in those days, despite being one of Demise's oldest servants. I tried to be careful not to mess anyone else up or accidentally kill my fellow allies. But I did have the great honor of killing Arthur's friend Lance. He'd been a bit tired out by the last ten of us he'd speared on his sword. Still, he was a fighter of immeasurable ability-he could have destroyed me. But I could see the pain in his eyes, to have to kill those he had thought were his friends. I used that against him-and that was how he finally fell.

"Then, after killing eight of our number, Guinevere was slain by Demise. And last of all, when some of Demise's servants were able to grasp Arthur's hands and legs even as he ran his sword through them, they managed to make him at last lose his grip on that sword. Then Demise took it up for himself and—well, that part you should remember, Lord Sword. Anyway, after it was all finished, only Demise and the four of us who would become his Elite Guard were left standing. And that was how my master became the Demon King."

Terrin paced back over to his chair and collapsed into it.

Ghirahim smiled. "Thank you for sharing that. It was very-enlightening." As the sword, Ghirahim had remembered that battle, where so many had died on his blade. But being a sword, he had not remembered those things which would have told him just how wrong the old legends had been. Terrin had certainly—placed it all in an entirely new context.

The ancient demon clacked his claws against each other. "You are most welcome. I think—Demise would have wanted you to know all of that, Lord Sword. You see, the moral of the story is that sometimes you must make great sacrifices for the greater good."

Ghirahim mentally increased his priority for removing Lord Terrin from the ranks of the living. Is there some way to ensure that he and Tala kill each other?

Zelda could see that her guardian was agitated. Impa gripped the wooden armrests of the chair tightly.

"What do you mean, it's gone?" Impa gave Granite an incredulous look.

"I no longer have it," Granite said.

"Who stole it?" Impa asked, rising from the chair. "We have to find them. Maybe we can-"

"No one stole it," Granite said. She sighed. "I gave it away."

"What? To who?"

"Impa, it is time that I explained to you that the reason I went into hiding is because I wished to avoid all contact with Tala. With everyone, in fact, except for my family. But I refuse to lie to you, especially about this. You are my family, too, after all, though I know your loyalties must lie with Tala. So the moment has come for me to face up to what I have feared, all of this time."

Impa frowned. "Granite, I know you must have had a good reason for giving it away. Tala will surely forgive you, and we can find this person and the shard. Who did you give it to?"

"I gave it to a demon."

"What?"

"I was captured by the demon king nine years ago. There was a demon in the cell next to the one I was kept in. He told me he would be able to kill the demon king if I gave him the shard, and that he would release me from the cell. I could tell he was not lying. And he succeeded!"

"Yes, well, they only got a more powerful ruler in his place," Impa said, slumping back in the chair. She placed her head in her hands. "Granite, I know this must be hard for you—I thank you for being honest with us, though. It would not help us to think that things were better than they are. What did this demon look like? Do you remember anything of him?"

"I don't think I could forget him. Ghirahim was a very memorable-"

"You gave it to Lord Ghirahim?"

"Is that what he is calling himself?" Granite asked. Her eyes widened. "He is the more powerful ruler you mentioned, isn't he?"

"Yes," Impa said. She gave a bitter laugh. "You have been in hiding, so you couldn't know that very recently he has come to the surface himself. He is a sorcerer of great power and skill. And he has been picking all of us Sheikahs off with great ferocity. I fought him in Skyview Temple, but he scurried off like the little rat that he-"

"He attacked you?" Granite asked, her expression horrified.

"Whatever impression you may have gotten of him, Granite, he is an inherently vicious creature. And it seems he has much more enthusiasm than their last ruler did for breaking the Seal."

Impa turned to Zelda, her expression tired. "I'm sorry, Your Grace. There is no way we can retrieve the shard now, for the demon lord would surely have destroyed it."

Suddenly Zelda remembered what she had thought odd about Ghirahim during their first meeting. "Er, I don't think he did."

Impa tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"The first time I met him, he seemed to be really confident that I was telling him the truth when I spoke. And what I said was all true—at least, I thought it was-I didn't know I was the goddess at the time."

"A demon couldn't possibly wield the Shard for that long—especially not him!"

Granite sighed and shook her head. "You are wrong. I saw him when he took the shard. I have never seen anyone happier to possess it—it gave him back his connection to his magic, which he told me had been bound. And later, when he released me, I could sense he still had it. I think he is a true wielder of the Shard of Truth."

Impa was silent for several moments. "If it is true, that he has not disposed of the shard, we have to get it back from him. Zelda and I cannot take any more time from our journey, Granite. We must visit the remaining springs. Will you go to Tala and tell her who has the shard? If anyone can find a way to retrieve it from him, it would be her. And I know you can travel very quickly."

Granite gave her a fearful look. "I have avoided her all of these long years. I have feared what she might do."

"Granite, you know that Tala would never misuse her power. You know I must tell her anyway, if you do not. It would be better if she heard it from you. Please, Granite. Will you do this for me? And for the goddess you serve?" Impa and Granite glanced over at Zelda.

Granite's gaze turned back to Impa. "Yes. I will." More firmly, she said, "I will do this for both of you."

Impa smiled. "Thank you, Granite."

Link looked out of the window and sighed. He kept expecting to see Firestar in the sky, and had to remind himself that his bird couldn't pass the cloud barrier below Skyloft. He hoped she was okay. This far away, he couldn't sense her.

His mind turned back to Ghirahim. Link had developed strong feelings for the demon lord. Ghirahim wasn't simply trying to destroy all the surface dwellers, as the Sheikahs had implied. He had his own reasons for trying to claim the surface realm. Link didn't think he was going about it the right way. But he didn't think the demon was evil, either. He was—complicated.

What about Zelda? Link knew he had to help her, too. He was worried about her. If she really was Hylia, as everyone said, then what would happen once she regained her memories? Ghirahim had said that Hylia had sealed the demons away. The Sheikahs had said the same. Would she try to do the same thing again? Ghirahim had made it all too clear to Link what that would mean. It would trap them the demons in the darkness they hated so much, with those—things. Link shuddered as he thought of the redeads. And what about Ghirahim? Although he seemed to have nothing against Zelda, Link could tell he despised Hylia. Before, when Link had thought that the surface dwellers were simply insane, he hadn't worried about it much. After all, he had always learned that Hylia had the power to do anything. No one could harm her. Except—he knew now that she had a mortal body. What exactly would happen to her, and to Zelda, if that mortal body died? How and when would Hylia be reborn? And would the part of her that was Zelda follow her into her new life, or simply be-gone? That question troubled Link greatly.

And as long as Link was trapped here, there was nothing he could do about any of it.

"I predict there is a 95% probability that you wish to leave this place," a voice made of violins and trumpets sounded quietly behind him.

Link turned around. Fi floated above the floor, her pupil-less gaze directed at him. Despite her lack of expression, Link thought he detected amusement in her tone. She spread her wings. "I apologize for the delay, Master. I have had to plan this carefully, to avoid breaking my half of my agreement with the demon lord. Please gather the stone tablet at the table and prepare yourself for your escape."

Link did as she instructed him and gave her a puzzled look. Was she going to teleport him out, as Ghirahim did? Only, if she could do that, why hadn't she done it before?

"I cannot teleport you myself," Fi said, as if responding to his unspoken query. "I have had to seek—assistance. Please wait a few minutes, and go with the one who enters this room. I must leave now."

Fi's form faded. Link waited apprehensively, the tablet under one arm.

As Fi had promised, after a few minutes a figure appeared in a flash of light and puff of smoke. The person was a Sheikah with light blond hair. He wore blue armor with a red eye of truth emblazoned on the chest. Both his head and arms were wrapped in bandages. His red eyes scanned the room briefly before settling on Link.

"Fancy cell you have here, Sky Hero," the man said. "Still, I assume you want out of Château Demon?"

Link nodded.

The man took Link's wrist in his hand. "Thought so." With his other hand, he fished in a satchel on the belt at his waist and pulled out what looked like a round piece of glass. "Prepare yourself. Most people find this part rather—disorienting." He threw the glass to the floor. When it shattered, there was a burst of light and smoke. Then, unlike when Ghirahim teleported, Link felt his form dissolve, and felt himself moving. He moved with rapidly increasing speed through the doors and walls of the building until he was outside again. While Link wondered how he could see at all with no body or eyes, he watched as the ground came closer and closer until he saw grass stalks and tree trunks rushing past. Then he felt his form abruptly come into being again. The Sheikah, who was still holding his wrist, pulled Link down with him behind a bush.

"We're out of there now, but not quite home free yet," the man said quietly. He looked through the bush they hid behind. "This place is crawling with demons. We have to—"

Just then the man stopped talking as two demons came walking into the clearing in front of them. One of them was a tall, slender red demon with brown hair and sharply pointed ears. The other was an extremely muscular dark blue demon with a scraggly beard. His bald head and his face were crisscrossed with scars, and he had large pointed ears.

"-think it's a great honor," the red demon said. "Obviously, I should've been the one to get the permanent position, though. Maybe we could trade, if you hate it so much?"

The blue demon snorted. "That's even worse. No."

"Fine," the red demon said. "Maybe if I talk with Lord Ghirahim, I can convince him to switch us. He likes me better, you know." Link thought he'd seen them before. Then he realized that the red demon had been the one guarding the door at Skyview Temple.

The blue demon only rolled his eyes. He seemed about to respond, then stopped. The other demon stopped, too.

"What are you-?" the red demon asked.

The blue demon turned toward the bush and drew the jagged black blade on his back. "Whoever is there, I ask you to come out slowly, making no sudden movements. Unless you are not overly attached to your appendages."

The Sheikah man cursed and fumbled with his pouch.

"I am going to give you three seconds to come out of there," the demon said, pointing the jagged black blade toward the bush. "One. Two. Three." The blue demon roared, his small tusks and sharp teeth bared. He ran towards the bush.

The Sheikah pulled Link with him as he rose. "Let's go!" They ran into the trees. Link could hear the demons behind them in pursuit. Sheik ran through the forest, turning randomly, still fumbling at his pouch. They reached another clearing and the two demons burst out behind them. Sheik pulled something silver out of his pouch and flung it at the blue demon. The star-shaped object hit the demon in his sword arm. He roared again, but didn't drop the sword. Instead, he used his other hand and yanked the object out of his arm, throwing it aside.

"Now you're making me angry, Sheikah," the blue demon said, walking toward them. The other demon grinned, his red blade flashing in the sun as he approached them as well.

"You're in trouble now, Sky Hero," the red demon said, smirking.

The Sheikah cursed and dug his hand into the pouch again. Then he pulled it out triumphantly, holding it above his head.

"Put that down Sheikah, unless you want me to-" the blue demon began.

"Sure thing, ugly." The man threw the round piece of glass to the ground. It hit a rock, and there was a flash of light and smoke. Link felt his form dissolve again. Link saw the two demons gape as he felt himself rush away from them.

They came to two more abrupt stops, but didn't encounter any more demons. Finally, they moved through a thick wall and materialized back in the Sheikah temple.

"Tadaa!" The Sheikah man said, bowing in front of Tala. "Got you back your Sky Hero, as promised!"

The old Sheikah woman tilted her head. "Strange. I don't recall any such promise, Sheik."

The man's red eyes widened. "What do you mean? You specifically asked me to get him back for you."

Tala looked towards Link. "I am glad you are back. But I must admit that I was not your benefactor in this."

"But then who-?" Sheik asked.

Tala smiled suddenly. "Yet I think I know who was. Fi, can you hear me?"

Fi materialized next to Tala in a flash of blue light. "Yes, Tala. And you are correct in your assumption. It was I who impersonated you so the teleporter would aid me."

Sheik's eyes narrowed. "Why must you always be so slippery, sword spirit? Can't you ever deal honestly, even with your allies?"

Fi turned to face him, floating calmly in the air, her wings at her sides. "I predicted a 52% probability that you would not aid Link if you knew my true identity, teleporter. Also, there was a 90% probability that you would not follow my instructions regarding the demons if you knew who I was. That was unacceptable."

Sheik growled. "Well, thank you for quantifying exactly how worthless you think honesty is, Fi."

"It was no difficulty," Fi said, her expression impassive.

Tala laughed. "Oh, don't be angry at her, Sheik. I'm not. Her only loyalty will always be to her master, and to his wishes."

Sheik sighed. "I know." He turned towards Link. "Really, I wouldn't have let the demons keep you, Sky Hero, no matter what Fi thinks. Welcome back!"