Pained breathing filled the air. Cloudy water, stained with blood, floated around them, ankle-deep. The water was still as the Fierce Deity, heart pounding with exhilaration and rage, inhaled sharply and felt no remorse over what had just happened.

Majora was dead.

The patterns on the wall moved and shifted like psychedelic hallucinations, beautiful yet disturbing at the same time. The things people saw in sepia dreams. A great meditation ruled over the interior of the Moon, now back in its place in the inky Termina sky.

Then the surroundings changed. A meadow. The sun lay warm upon it. The flowers changed colour with the leaves, some a heavenly white; between the pastel grass, patches of red and yellow leaves lay here and there. The Fierce Deity wasn't sure if the wave of beauty surrounding him would wash over him, too. His cheekbones jutted out a little from his face, arched red markings served as his eyebrows over icy, emotionless eyes; a pointed nose; white hair that was always messy; full lips and pearly teeth like petals. For the first time in a long time, the Fierce Deity's raging heart became calmer.

Then he looked down.

A short distance away from him lay the poor puppet of Majora, the Skull Kid. When he took over Link's body thanks to his mask, he could hear Link's thoughts about the Skull Kid. They weren't pleasant thoughts, the Deity expected that. But as time went on, as he traversed through the Moon, the Deity began to hear much more sympathetic thoughts about the Skull Kid.

None of this was his fault.

Link understood that; the Fierce Deity was glad he did. He liked conscientious and good-natured people, even though he could not justify himself to be the same way, and a pang of guilt went through him. But his past did not matter anymore – theoretically, he was long dead, and so was his race; a forgotten branch of Hylian people. They all had markings on their bodies and white eyes – sometimes, in rare cases, the eyes were not fully white but a very pale, icy blue instead. He was one such case, although his eye colour was indistinguishable from two feet away.

The Skull Kid must have been terrified, conscious or not. The Fierce Deity took pity, understanding his predicament. He decided to make himself look less threatening; placed his double-helix sword on the grass, removed his hat, and sat down next to the Skull Kid. He could have easily been seven feet tall, even sitting down didn't restrict his height.

When the Skull Kid woke, the Deity smiled at him.

"Welcome back."

It took a lot of self-control for the Skull Kid not to leap up and cry in fright. He simply lay there, exhausted and feeling awful, trying not to question anything with a voice that deep. A sweet baritone, tender but still hugely intimidating for the Skull Kid. He had only been half of Link's height, and that guy had…

Link.

"L-Link! Is he…what happened? Where am I? And…" He looked to his side to see a strange figure sitting next to him, looking quite calm and content. "…who are you?"

"Calm down, little one. All your questions will be answered if you take the time to listen."

The Skull Kid was rather surprised by the strange man's remark – didn't he know what he had done? He had been the only one so far to treat him with anything other than hatred and fear. He was a manifestation of what happened to children if they became lost in the Lost Woods. That was so far away. That was Hyrule…

"My name has been long forgotten with time, but some know me as the Fierce Deity," the Fierce Deity began. The Skull Kid liked his voice. He was intimidating, but his voice was kind. "You may call me whatever you wish. You were the unfortunate victim of Majora. He decided to use you as his puppet. Majora was the demon inside of his mask, which you wore. As a result, he took over your mind and made you do things you would not normally do. Link wore my mask, and we defeated Majora's incarnation. All is well in Termina now, little one. You have nothing to worry about. And your friend, Link…he has gone back to Hyrule. He asked his fairy to wish you well. He blames you for nothing."

The Skull Kid was stunned by his story. Why couldn't he remember anything? He remembered meeting that strange man with the masks, and then…he froze. He couldn't breathe. That explained everything. He had put on Majora's Mask for a laugh and then thrust Termina into chaos. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. He hadn't meant to do it. Why wasn't the Fierce Deity – whoever he was, he didn't look normal at all – laughing at him? Or humiliating him? Why didn't he hate him? He had said it was all over. So what had he been doing? Where had the real Skull Kid been the whole time?

The idea that Link didn't blame him brought tears to his crimson eyes; the fact Link could go through hell twice and back and still not blame him for anything…he shut his eyes and let a few stray tears escape. He felt the Deity's enormous hand on his shoulder, a small comfort, and he appreciated it.

"…you didn't tell me where I was."

"Ah. Yes. We are still inside the Moon. It has returned to its rightful place in the sky. If you come with me, little one…" the Fierce Deity stood up and the Skull Kid nearly screamed at how tall he was, "…we can leave. I can take us out of here, and then to wherever you wish to go."

The Skull Kid gulped. "I…I don't…really have anywhere. To go, I mean. I…I mean…"

The Deity held up a hand to signal he had heard enough. "It is fine. You can come back with me."

The forest child blinked. He couldn't believe what the Fierce Deity had said at first – he isn't even that fierce, wonder where he got the name from – and then pinched his straw arm. No. He was awake. This was not a dream. Some stranger had actually just offered to let him stay wherever he lived.

"…okay. Th-thank you."