A/N: The last chapter. Finally! I can't believe that it took me so long to update, but to be honest, I had almost forgotten about this story and the missing part. -sweats- So...I'm very sorry about this! A big thanks goes to SailorSun546 for kicking my ass and motivating me to write the last chapter! Personally I enjoyed writing this story very much and I hope you felt the same about reading it. Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed!

The ground beneath his feet shook slightly as Demise's massive, but blind head tried to make its way out of the sealed earth again. The seismic waves appeared within seconds but died down as quickly as they had built, and Ghirahim was able to steady his footing once more. His master, even though captured deep underneath the earth, felt that time was drawing nearer and urged to break free from the holy seal.

"Patience, big boy," he murmured, and smiled gently at the thought of having his master back. All these years, he had lived for this purpose, had gone to great lengths to find Hylia and crush her. Her destruction was so near, like a faint electric pulse under his fingertips that made his body vibrate with anticipation. His gloved hand touched the rough surface of the time-withered stone temple walls, and his finger traced along the tendril of ivy growing above the old bricks while he moved towards the entry. It was the sweet scent of youthful innocence that allured him, and he dug his way through the early evening mist like a moth attracted by the light.

Another seism shook the dry earth and threw Ghirahim off his unsteady feet. He growled, annoyed about Demise's impatience and persistence, and grabbed the ivy tendril to pull himself up again. Yet another, more powerful quake, forced him down on his four limbs, and kept him glued to the ground. A painful pressure was slowly building up, and wrapped around him, making his skull feel terribly tense. The black markings on his skin throbbed with an ache so intense that he wanted to scratch it open, the blood in his veins seemed to thicken and become diluted in a matter of seconds, and his organs contracted to a minimum size. After a mere minutes, the pressure was gone as quickly as it had built up, and the pain in Ghirahim's body disappeared. He inhaled sharply, sucked back life into his lungs, and remained on the ground, simply breathing in and out to calm his erratic heartbeat. Only when his pulse had returned to normal, he realised the dead silence that shrouded the sealed grounds. The trees stood still, not a single air draft, not a single sound. Even Demise remained motionless. Ghirahim's senses were on alert. Something was clearly wrong.

"Not now," he moaned, and then he saw the flash of light above the clouds and a shadow growing bigger with lightning speed. His eyes gaped in horror as the isle coming from the sky headed towards the ground he was standing on, and the seal that kept Demise caught underneath the soil. Once again, it was the magic flowing through his veins that saved him from being crushed under the huge formation, and he teleported to a safe spot, from which he could watch the fateful scenario. "No," he gasped out, "no."

The isle of the Goddess, formerly residing in Skyloft, had returned to its original place, the ruins now clinging perfectly to the holy temple. Ghirahim ducked down as he spotted a figure clad in green, standing on the platform before the huge statue of the Goddess that he hated so much. He clenched his fists at the sight of the Skyloftian knight, the boy who had been following him like a pesky dog and was foiling his plans. He had been a thorn in his side from the very beginning, and for the first time, Ghirahim regretted not having killed him when he had the chance. He gritted his teeth in hatred and annoyance as he watched the knight jump down from the platform and approach the entry of the sealed temple. He closed his eyes as he felt the presence of the girl again, this time more clearly. He knew she was inside this temple and if he followed the boy, the latter would surely lead him to her.

A golden gleam caught his attention and when he turned his head to face the statue, his eyes were greeted with the sight of three shimmering triangles. It was a beautiful yet appalling view for he knew that the Triforce was the sign of the Three, and seeing the single pieces put together definitely meant trouble. Furthermore he couldn't feel Demise's lifestream anymore. Could it be that the isle had crushed him under its weight? No, this was the work of the boy and the Three. And Hylia.

The demon lord quietly followed the Skyloftian into the temple, careful not to make a sound. The constant lack of Demise's presence during all these years had weakened him bit by bit, and being the incarnation of his master's sword had made him more and more vulnerable during the long absence. At first he hadn't noticed the changes, but after some time he had noticed how battles made him weary more quickly. Now the black markings on his skin were more prominent than ever, and even his teleporting skills had diminished to a minimum. Long distance teleportations were impossible, and even the shorter ones left him panting for air.

The boy led him directly to the secret chamber, and embedded in an amber crystal was the girl, sweet innocence radiating from her sleeping form. The knight gingerly approached the crystal, and when it burst into tiny pieces, he was there to catch the falling maiden in his arms, and to lead her out of the room safely. Ghirahim noticed the gentleness of their touches and their caring glances, and grimaced. Patience had never been a trait of his personality, even though he had needed to train himself over the past years, but now, in the face of the events to come, he had to hold himself back, watch and wait.

When they entered the back of the main temple hall, he recognised the red-haired brat and a crinkled old witch hidden under a red cloth that almost covered her whole, dwarfish body like a tent. The demon lord shuddered in the light of these obsolete figures.

He took it in, their smiles, loving gestures and happy faces. Soon he would be the one feasting on their preposterously pitiful figures, when he would reveal himself, and snatch away their beloved Goddess. Hope had gotten back to him at the sight of the ever-rotating gearwheels. With the time gate being open he would be able to travel back to the past and resurrect his master, thus destroying Hylia, and putting an end to this nonsense once for all. Gathering his last strength, he prepared for his own magical entrance in this play of love and tenderness, and when the oversized red-haired kid burst into tears, he could no longer hold back, and ripped their intimacy apart.

"How terribly heart-warming! I wish I could join in but I am afraid that I have to interrupt your sweet lovey-dovey," he mocked, and picked the half unconscious girl off the floor. "The best thing is to simply forget about your beloved Goddess, since she will keep me company once I have travelled through this gate, and with her help I will finally revive my master."

The boy in green growled angrily and unsheathed his sword but Ghirahim only gave him a scornful glance.

"You. You have been a bother from the very start, and even though I have to admit, that it was fun toying with you, I can't waste my energy on you now. See, I don't even have the time to grind my heel into a worm like you. Not here and not now."

He teleported to the small pedestal in front of the gate and headed for the passage, but the other Skyloftian blocked his way by spreading out his arms.

The demon lord sighed loudly. "Oh come on, this is pathetic. You don't stand a chance, so get out of my way before I have to knock you down."

The redhead didn't move an inch, his eyes glued to the tall demon and the girl's seemingly lifeless body.

"I won't let you pass."

Ghirahim's impatience now had reached its peak. He lounged out and with a simple kick of his foot he sent the redhead and the old witch to the other side of the room, gaining a painful yelp from both.

"Enough!"

He turned around one last time before he stepped into the time passage, and fixed his gaze on the young knight at the end of the staircase.

"I will wait for you, Link."

As soon as he entered the passage, time spun around him like a roundabout full of memories and feelings. He could see himself being chased in the woods by men, lying beside Vyarad's human self, fulfilling the ceremony at the secret temple, chasing after the Goddess' human form, sweating and bleeding for the only purpose he was still living for: his master's resurrection. Once he reached the end of the passage, the memories of old times blurred and perished, leaving him with an empty feeling in his chest, but as he stepped outside into the early evening mist, he felt Demise's presence restoring his powers. He had no time to lose for he knew that the boy was dogging his footsteps. He dragged the girl's body along, and jumped down into the abyss, while creating a magical barrier to keep his pursuer off as long as he needed to fulfil the revival ceremony.

Using magical spells to separate Hylia's soul from the human body cost the demon lord the last bit of his energy he needed to sustain his humanoid form, and now that the ceremony was almost complete, he felt the black poison stain his body and consuming him. His forearms, as well as the left side of his face, were now black as charcoal and throbbing violently. He fell to his knees as he felt the bond of the sword tug at his sore body, and slowly change him into a creature that neither felt pain nor mercy; a form that Vyarad had inflicted on him. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Skyloftian fight his way through the hordes of Bokoblins, and approaching with an almost terrifying speed. With shaky legs, he drew himself up to his full height and completed the last parts of the spell. Underneath his feet, he knew that Demise was regaining his old strength to finally break free from his sealed prison, but in order to regain his freedom, Ghirahim had to buy him more time. His last battle with the young knight was about to begin, and this time, he would not spare his life. The games were over.

When Ghirahim first met the boy, he had been both annoyed and amused about his persistence and clumsiness. There had never been anything graceful about the way he moved, no, he had rather seemed like a puppy who would trip over its own paws. The teenager had never been a real match for the demon lord, and no matter how many times the boy would follow and try to stop him, he, Ghirahim, had always been outright superior. The powerful sword had been nothing but a harmless toy in the boy's hands, and the only damage it could cause were a few tiny scratches on his skin. Ghirahim had enjoyed playing with him, and making him believe that he could achieve something big, while in reality, he always left him one step behind.

Seeing the knight now, his strong stance, the determined look on his face, the hard flash in his eyes, Ghirahim realised that he had changed. He licked his lips in anticipation.

"So we meet again. I should have crushed you when I had the time, instead of showing you mercy. Did you really think you could beat me? You stand before a demon, or should I say a demon lord?"

He slowly walked around him, but never let him out of sight.

"Instead of taking the chance to run away like any creature with a basic instinct to survive, you kept coming back, crossing my plans, again and again. I have grown tired of you prying into my affairs, so I recommended you to stay away from my business, but here you are, pointing this weapon at me."

He returned to his starting point again, and gave the boy a challenging look.

"Give her back to me," the knight growled, but Ghirahim only laughed out loud.

"Give me one reason why I should? Tsk, tsk, I will never understand your motivation, little one. Why are you making such a fuss over a petty little thing?"

He stopped for a moment, and grinned mockingly.

"Don't tell me you are in love with the girl?"

"Do you want to talk or to fight?"

The knight was slowly losing his patience, but Ghirahim's monologue had bought Demise enough time to absorb most of the Goddess' soul. The demon lord nodded approvingly.

"Time for you to die," he whispered, and waited for the knight's attack.

Link's blows were powerful and determined, and whereas his eyes had been filled with a certain fear and caution in the previous fights, there was nothing but pure willpower and hate in his blue orbs now. The holy sword clashed against Ghirahim's body as the boy hit him again and again, almost frantically, but his skin was now as resistible as the hard and shiny surface of a diamond. But however useless these attacks were, they didn't allow the demon to strike back, and as he tried to touch the tip of the sword as he had done in their first battle, he instinctively pulled back his hand, his fingertips still vibrating under the enormous energy that it emitted. One little moment of distraction, one second of confusion, and the sword hit him hard on the only vulnerable spot on his body. He stumbled backwards, and before he could regain his balance, the boy sent him off the edge of the platform. The demon lord landed hard on his back, with the knight jumping after him, his sword aiming at his chest again. Ghirahim rolled to the side before the blade could cause more damage, and took advantage of this moment of surprise. He kicked Link hard in his spine, who fell down to his knees with a painful outcry. A feeling of satisfaction filled Ghirahim's chest as he heard the noise of a breaking vortex in his opponent's spine, and it sounded like music in his ears. His thirst for bloodshed and revenge, and the pure feeling of hatred made him forget about his dignity during battle once and for all, and he lunged at the boy like an animal, plunging his teeth into the soft flesh of his shoulder. The taste of blood filled his mouth as he ripped out a piece of skin and flesh, but got thrown back when Link helplessly wielded his sword, and drove it between them. He panted heavily, blood dripping from his wounded shoulder, but the fierce look in his eyes never vanished.

Ghirahim was impressed. Even after all the failures and misfortune that he had experienced, the boy never seemed to give up hope and his beliefs, he would fight to the very end to protect those that he loved and cherished, even if it meant his own death. Was this the reason why the Goddesses had chosen and blessed him with their power? And was this the reason why he had spared his life so many times before? And in the end, could it be that they were not even that different? How much pain had he endured himself, and how many efforts had he put into one single purpose? He closed his eyes for a second, before getting rid of these thoughts that were perturbing his mind. This wasn't the time to become sentimental.

Link had regained his footing and was now charging at the demon again. Between endless strikes and outcries of pain, determination and rage, he worked himself into a state of franticness, but a sudden quake threw him off his feet again. The seal broke as Demise's gigantic head burst through the dry earth, and his massive scaled body emerged from the ground. With one last effort, he was finally free, and absorbed the rest of Hylia's soul, thus changing into his true, demonic form.

A sound escaped Link's lips as he sat in the dirt and stared horrified at the huge demon king. Ghirahim's lips curved into a smile as he saw his master rise from his cage after years of being imprisoned, and he bowed politely before him.

"Welcome back, master."

Demise's fiery eyes glowed eerily in the twilight as he cocked his head to the side, and took in the sight of the small knight.

His pointed fangs flashed in the gloominess.

"So you are the mighty hero? The one chosen by the Goddess. Interesting. I never thought she would send a midget to save her beloved children."

He turned his head and his gaze now rested on the girl, who was still unconscious.

"What a shame. Compared to her previous magnificent form, this girl is nothing more than a poor imitation of her own creations. I find it very intriguing that she lowered herself to such a plain appearance."

Unlike Ghirahim, he did neither laugh, nor show any other signs of scornfulness upon seeing the boy draw his sword and point it at him. Instead, he accepted the invitation to battle with a nod, and lifted his right hand into Ghirahim's direction.

An invisible force struck the demon lord, and smashed him against a rock, before he was lifted in the air like a puppet. He moaned soundlessly and looked into Demise's eyes, searching for something that would answer his unspoken question, something he could hold on to, but they were blank and unreadable like a polished ruby. The demon king was asking to get back what was his, and he would take it by force.

With a satisfied look on his face, he slowly pulled the powerful sword out of its vessel, and with one single move of his hand, he twisted it around. Ghirahim cried out in pain as the sword slit his inside and cut through the crystal on his chest, the handle slowly emerging from his body. His screams then slowly ebbed away, and gave way to mad laughter. So this was it. All these years, he had sweated and bled for this moment of resurrection, and now he felt the strings of death being pulled. All his endeavours seemed pathetically futile in the face of his own decease. And all this talk of cleansing the world from humans now rang hollow in his ears. What did it matter to him once he was dead? The revenge he had been seeking had never been about the people of his kind, all that he demanded was justice for himself.

The sword had left his body by now and returned to Demise's hand. In a state of near oblivion, Ghirahim's broken body sank back to the ground where it remained while the demon king competed against the young knight. His surroundings had become a blur, and the sound of the two powerful blades clashing seemed a thousand miles away. A black veil slowly enshrouded his vision, and no matter how hard he tried to regain control over his senses, a dangerous weariness was dragging him down into a dark pit. And in his semi-consciousness, he suddenly heard familiar voices, and saw the shadows of his past approaching the shards of his former self. Watched them point their fingers at the demon lord who, once glorious and proud, was now decrepitly lying in the ashes of his own ruin. How pathetic. How pitiful.

Flashes of pain flared in his chest whenever the Goddess' sword collided with the blade that was connected to both his body and soul, and even though he wondered how long his body could still endure the torment, he somehow started to feel comfortably numb after a while. He shut his eyes and kept them closed, thus drifting off into a state between sleep and death.

When he opened his eyes again, he had lost any sense of time or direction, and all he could see was an endless desert of plain, monotone white, making him believe that he was already dead. He tried to move his limbs, but to no avail. They seemed to be glued to the ground. He closed his eyes again, now that he was certain of his departure from this world, but forced them open again when something bumped against his foot. The white gradually disappeared and blurred silhouettes started taking shapes. His vision eventually returned, and he stared straight into two pairs of marine blue eyes that were observing him curiously.

"He is still alive." The voice of a young man. It sounded fairly unhappy.

"No, Link, take your sword down." The female voice sounded much gentler.

"After everything he did you still want to keep him alive?"

"His time has come, can't you see that he is dying? Look at all his wounds."

"But..."

The protest was cut off abruptly and Ghirahim closed his eyes again. His chuckle disrupted the conversation, and turned into a low laughter. Demise was dead. As a matter of fact, that brat had managed to defeat the demon king. How laughable. This was perfect irony. They had won nothing! All these years of pain for nothing at all.

He ponderously got back on his feet, blood dripping from his wounded torso, and he realised that he had changed into his real form. The knight and the girl were still watching him closely, but no one dared to move at all.

"You surprise me, boy. I never though that a rat like you could destroy a demon king."

He tried to laugh but only managed a dry cough and a spit of blood.

"Where is he?"

He reached the spot where Demise had fallen only after a few minutes, even though he hardly had to walk a few metres. The sword was shattered into little pieces and scattered across the ground. He sank to his knees beside the human corpse and touched Vyarad's cold body.

"So this is how it ends, Vyarad," he whispered and gently brushed away a strand of raven hair from his face.

"Did you ever know how much I hated you? Did you ever guess how much I despised you?"

His fingertips touched the soft flesh of those lips that had kissed him so many times before, and he lowered his face to whisper a few words in a long forgotten tongue.

And when the first rays of sunlight caressed the lands, the demon lord recollected the last shards of his dignity, turned his back on his king, and departed into the depths of the forest towards the rising sun.