Author's Note: If you got a notification saying this story was updated, but you see that this is the last chapter, fear not. I revised the entire story, and in the process, one of the chapters got too long and was split into two. Hence, the last chapter is no longer 16, but 17. If you are reading this for the first time, disregard this author's note, and enjoy the finale.

Link stared up at the sky, panting hard as sweat poured down his face, pain racking every inch of his body as he lay in the dirt and listened to the sounds of battle. Blood splashed between his lips, chest heaving as he gasped futilely for air. Not that it mattered. He was sure his lung had been punctured, so any air he managed to get in wouldn't do him any good.

How… How did it come to this? How did this happen?

His fingers twitched, reaching for his sword, but he was pinned to the ground by two metal rods, and his chances of going anywhere were beyond slim. Even if he could get up, blood loss would no doubt send him crashing back down.

How did I not see this coming?

It took Link all of one day to decide bed rest was, by far, the worst torture Ghirahim had ever put him through. Ironically, it was also the only one Ghirahim ever implemented for Link's benefit. Still, one could only play so many games of solitaire, eat so many bowls of soup, and sing so many campfire songs before their sanity started to slip.

That said, Link enjoyed the company of both Raika and Jinka, and they treated him unbelievably well, but there was a reason Link danced on the kitchen table when his seven days of torment were up.

However, the same could not be said for Ghirahim. Quite the opposite, Ghirahim looked worse with every passing day. Tired. Stressed. Depressed. Hurt.

And Link had no idea why.

"Master, is something bothering you?"

"Hmm?" Ghirahim looked up from the book he was reading, watching the hero with faded eyes. "Did you say something?"

Link came him a weak smile. "I asked if something was bothering you, Master."

"Oh… uh, no." Ghirahim returned to his novel, but three seconds later, he was staring at the ceiling. "Link… if something were to happen to me, do you think you could manage? The castle, I mean. Running it, keeping it clean, watching the slaves and make sure they're all taken care of."

Link was confused and somewhat taken aback by the question, disturbed by the mere thought of Ghirahim being gone. "Well, I think I could. You know, if I had to, but it's not exactly…" He shook his head, torn between wanting to stay within his limits and wanting an honest answer. "Master, if something is going on, please tell me. I deserve to know."

Ghirahim looked at him for a moment, and then a laugh burst from his lips, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. "You deserve to know? You deserve to know?" He giggled again, dropping his hand and shaking his head. "You deserve to know nothing. There is nothing to know, nothing to be deserved. There is nothing, and that is the end of it."

Link bit his lip and crawled a little closer to Ghirahim's chair, pushing his head into the hand that hung from the armrest. "Master…"

Just the way Ghirahim was speaking made Link feel sick with worry. He knew he had to say something, and while he didn't know exactly what he hoped to accomplish, he couldn't stand the dead-eyed look he kept seeing on Ghirahim's face.

"Master, there are… rumors… of a war coming. Are you… going to fight?"

Ghirahim stroked Link's hair silently, peering into the flames with absent eyes. "Fight? No, no… there won't be any time for that. I think I will be rather busy."

Link frowned. "Busy?"

Ghirahim grasped the hair between his fingers, pulling Link's head one way and then the other, chuckling to himself as he did. "Yes, busy. Busy with so, so many things. Master will handle the war, the slaves and hoards will fight in it, and I will be busy."

Link sighed and placed his hands on the floor, intending to get up and leave his master be. It was clear Ghirahim didn't want to talk, and even if he did, he looked too tired to form any sort of coherent sentences.

"Stay." Ghirahim pushed him back down to the floor, never once tearing his eyes from the open fire. "Stay with me tonight. I'd like you to sleep in here with me."

Link nodded his head slowly and tried to think of something he could say that would offer some comfort. If he could do anything at all to relieve the stress and pain in Ghirahim's eyes, he would. If he could say something to make Ghirahim act normal, just for one moment, he would.

But what?

I could attack him. He would fight me and punish me. His sadism might bring him back. He's always liked pain, so… but what if that makes him stop trusting me? What if I end up distancing him more? Never mind, that was a bad idea. I could… break something instead. Or maybe disobey an order? But yesterday, when I broke that vase, he didn't do anything. He just looks at me with those eyes and does… nothing. Nothing at all.

"Master…" He heard his voice crack, and with a faint blush on his cheeks, he nudged Ghirahim on the thigh. "I know there's something wrong, and even though you won't tell me… I want you to know I'll remember my promise. Okay? I'll never forget you."

Ghirahim's lit up slightly when he heard that. "Never?"

"Never." Link smiled. "I promised, and I meant it. Will you never forget that?"

Ghirahim managed a smile of his own, some of his old self returning. "I will never forget that you promised me that, Skychild. Will you never forget that?"

Link grinned and got to his feet, throwing his arms around Ghirahim's neck. "You're gonna be okay, Master. I know it. You're gonna be okay."

Ghirahim laughed, too, wrapping his own arms around Link's torso and giving the hero a hug. "You, Skychild, are perhaps the craziest slave I've ever had. Even Deyonce could never be quite as insane as you."

Link smiled, happy to see some of the familiar fire in Ghirahim's eyes. "I know, Master."

Ghirahim traced the outline of Link's eyepatch with his index finger, a smile still lingering on his lips. "I want to remember you, Link. Demonds… we live forever, and as we go on and one, we forget so many things. But I want to remember every single detail about the crazy little skychild who became my…" He scoffed a bit and hugged him again. "My friend."

Link was stunned by the words, but he returned the affectionate gesture and kept his silence.

Ghirahim suddenly jumped up, spinning around and putting Link back on his feet. "I am going to teach you how to tango."

Link stared, face scrunched up in confusion. "What?"

"I am going to teach you to tango. It's a kind of dance." Ghirahim pushed the chair away from the fireplace as he spoke. "It'll be a lot of fun. Besides, war is always so depressing. One should always have a party before and after a war."

Link opened his mouth to ask any one of the questions bouncing around in his head, but Ghirahim grabbed his hands, and then the questions didn't seem to matter. Whatever he had done, Ghirahim was smiling again.

"You're the woman, obviously, so I'll teach you the necessary steps."

"Wait, why am I the woman?"

"Because you are more feminine than I."

"What? If anyone is feminine, it's you. You're more feminine than an actual woman."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me! Hey, stop laughing! Master, this isn't funny!"

Despite the pain, Link started laughing, his shoulders shaking as the memories washed over him. Fresh blood spurted from his wounds with the movement, scabs splitting and dry mud crumbling off with the jerking movements.

I guess I shouldn't be too hard on myself. How could I have seen it coming after such a fun night? Raika, Jinka, Deyonce, Master, and I all dancing and eating anything sweet and sugary and unhealthy. We partied until we passed out. How could I have known things would go so wrong? Or maybe the party should have clued me in. Why else would he suddenly be so happy? It wasn't anything I said, it was because he saw the light at the end of the tunnel…

Link's eye snapped open, pain splitting his head in two like a blade going in his third eye and coming out the back.

"A-ah!" He sat up, grabbing his forehead and fighting off the urge to vomit as he stumbled out of the bed. "Wh-what…?"

Tripping over Raika's unconscious form, he made his way to one of Ghirahim's many mirrors, looking at his reflection and paling at what he saw.

His slave mark—the magical black dash on his forehead that was supposed to eternally bind him to his master—was fading. It was light gray and disappearing more each second. That wasn't supposed to happen. That just wasn't supposed to happen.

Link whirled around and scanned the room in the dim light, counting the bodies on the floor. Jinka was at the foot of the bed, and Raika was curled up next to him, but that was it. No Ghirahim. No Deyonce.

Link bolted for the door, throwing it open and flying down the halls as fast as his legs would take him. "Master? Master? Master where are you? Deyonce? Master?"

He went down every hall he came to, ducking in open doorways and keeping his ears open for any kind of response to his calls. He rounded a corner at breakneck speed and tripped over an upturned corner of a rug, hitting the ground hard and smacking his head against the tile.

"Hnn…"

He got to his knees and shook himself, rubbing at his burned elbows and stomach as he took off running again. He went down the rest of the hall and turned the corner, passing a few more doorways and turning again.

"You're looking for him?"

Link screeched to a half and turned around to see Demise standing in the hall. He swallowed hard and gave a jerky nod, unable to find his voice.

"You won't find him. Or rather, you won't find what you're looking for."

Link clenched his fists, a knot forming in his stomach. "Do… do you know where he is?"

Demise stared ahead for quite some time, lost in thoughts or memories or both. "Ghirahim was always too naïve for his own good, and even though I tried my hardest to bring reality to light, he always managed to find something to believe in. I wanted to protect him. I wanted to make him understand that no one can be trusted, but I suppose some people can't survive without their fantasies and dreams."

Link felt a quiet sob escape his lips. "Where is he?" he demanded, growing desperate. "Where is he?"

"I used to cook, you know. Ghirahim always loved my food… it made him very happy." Demise glanced at him as if the words were supposed to mean something, and he sighed in irritation when Link didn't respond. "The kitchen, boy. Go to the kitchen. Brace yourself."

With those final words, the Demon King continued down the hallway to his bedroom, and Link was left in a dark corridor, a knife in his heart, a lump in his throat, and a coil in his stomach.

"No…"

He turned on his heel and made a mad dash for the kitchen, arms pumping as he ran, sweat sliding down his forehead. It wasn't long before ragged sobs were heard in the distance, and Link picked up speed.

"Deyonce! Deyonce, I can hear you! Where are you? Where's Master?"

Deyonce's reply was a cross between a scream and a whisper, and Link couldn't make out a single word of it. He kept running, flying as fast as he could until he finally thundered into the kitchen and was forced to stop.

Everything was trashed. The table was overturned, the stove was crushed, food was strewn all over the floor, the refrigerator was without a door, most of the cabinets were broken, and still more damage was being done by one enraged Deyonce.

"He's gone! He's gone!" Deyonce swore repeatedly, cursing names and fates and anything else he could hold responsible for the pain he was in. "It's n-not fair! It's not—"

Link's heart pounded in his chest, body shaking as his brain slowly started to wrap around the situation. Slowly, throat dry and eye burning, he made his way around the table to the area were Deyonce was standing.

"M… Master?" Link breathed the word, gripping the leg of the table as Ghirahim came into view.

He was lying so still, and so quiet, with his hair in a sheet over his face. He had one arm draped over his waist while the other was pinned beneath him on the floor, legs curled ever-so-slightly toward his chest.

It looked like he was taking once of his afternoon naps.

"Master… get up." Link's voice shook more than he wanted, the command lost beneath the sounds of demolition. "Master, get up!"

There was no response, and Link fell to his knees beside the demon. There was no blood, no cuts, no bruises, no oddly angled limbs—no anything. He couldn't be dead without injury, right? Right?

"Master! Master, you're scaring me!" Link grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard. "Master, this isn't funny!"

Link heard a pained cry, and he turned around just in time to see Deyonce double over and drop to the floor.

"Deyonce!"

He rushed to the demon's side and helped him lie on his back, trying to curb his panic as he pushed Deyonce's hands out of the way. There was a blade protruding from the center of Deyonce's chest, and Link looked at it from a few different angles before shaking his head frantically.

"I—I don't understand… I don't understand, what am I supposed to do?"

Deyonce coughed, blood splashing over his lips. "F-forever. I p-promised forever, I can't… I can't let him go alone…"

Link put his hand on the hilt of the blade, but he knew removing it would do no good, and with Ghirahim still unconscious, he didn't have any magic at his disposal.

"D-Deyonce, you can't leave me. I need your help! Master's hurt, he's hurt or something is wrong, and we—"

Deyonce shook his head. "He's gone, Link…"

Link sobbed, bringing his hand up to his mouth and biting down on his knuckles.

"Did… did he talk to you?" Deyonce smiled weakly. "Did he ask you if you could watch the castle?"

Link sniffed and nodded, his brain running ten thousand different directions at once, trying to process the overwhelming amount of information and emotion drowning his senses.

"Ever wonder… why he didn't ask me?"

Link bit his lip, tears streaming down his face. "B-Because he knew you would f-follow him?"

Deyonce nodded slightly, a weak smile pulling at his lips.

Link wiped his eye and nose, shaking his head. "You two… you can't leave me. You can't. What am I supposed to do with you? What about Demise? What about—?" His eye widened. "Did Demise do this?"

Deyonce took a deep breath and tried to get words out, blood spilling from his nose and mouth. "Demise forgot him… Master died that day… it's… a shame you never met him…" He struggled to inhale, turning his head and coughing a mouthful of blood onto the floor. "You were so… alive… you cared about… everything, and you loved… he hated you for that… but I think… I think he liked it, too…"

Link grit his teeth, another sob bursting up his throat. "So I did this?"

Deyonce shook his head and pressed a quickly cooling hand to Link's cheek, leaving streaks of blood behind when it dropped back down. "You… saved him… Link…"

"I saved him? How?" Link wiped his face and sobbed again. "If I saved him, why is he—why is he—?"

Link blinked hard, grabbing Deyonce by the shoulders and shaking him. Deyonce was limp, like a ragdoll, and his chest wasn't moving anymore.

"Deyonce! Deyonce!" Link pressed his palm to his eye. "Master! M-Master, please!"

He released Deyonce and crawled toward Ghirahim, brushing the curtain of hair away from the closed, slightly sunken eyes. He looked so peaceful. So happy.

If you were happy, why did you end it like this?

But the corpse didn't respond.

Link panted heavily, wiping his eye and recalling as many memories as he could, trying to understand what was happening. What had happened. What was going to happen next. Anything at all to give him some sense of control over the chaos swirling around in his brain.

"D-Deyonce said I saved you… but I don't know what that means." He wiped his face again, the skin around his eye and nose now raw from the repeated contact. "If Demise forgot you… and that killed you… and I saved you, why wasn't my promise enough? Why did you have to… do this? You didn't have to fight in the war, nothing was going to happen to you—"

"Master will handle the war, the slaves and hoards will fight in it, and I will be busy."

Link looked down at the pale face on the floor, and for the first time, something made sense. Ghirahim didn't have to fight in the war, but Link did, and Link was in no condition or mindset to fight.

"I want to remember you, Link."

Link sat back and drew his knees up to his chest, tears falling from his eye as sobs racked his body. He wished for all he was worth he still had two eyes to cry with. He screamed into the floor, crying out from an agony none of his punishments had ever given him before.

I don't know what to do, I don't know how to win a war, and they knew that. They knew that! Everyone is going to be slaughtered in a few days, and I can't do anything about it!

Link caught a glimpse of the knife still secured in Deyonce's chest, but he shook his head the second he thought of taking his own life. Ghirahim had asked him to watch the castle and take care of the slaves. That was the difference, right? Ghirahim ran away from the pain of loss, Link fought it by helping others. When Ghirahim was in pain, he didn't care, but when Link was in pain, he cared that much more.

That was why he got left behind. And it hurt. It hurt, but maybe that was the point. Maybe that was why Ghirahim didn't just wait until Link was sent away to fight. Maybe he wanted Link to hurt as much as possible so he did everything he could to help everyone else who got left behind with him.

This isn't fair. This just isn't fair.

It wasn't fair, but then again, Ghirahim had never been very fair to him. Ghirahim, by nature, did nothing but cause pain and suffering, and for some inconceivable reason, Link was determined to care about him anyway.

"So, you left, so you wouldn't have to see me die… and because you didn't want to abandon the slaves… you made me witness it so I would…"

Link jerked himself and buried his head in his arms, new tears—bitter tears—flowing freely down his cheek. His chest ached with every heart-wrenching sob, but if nothing else, he knew they would end. He knew he would run out of tears, and when he did, he had to get up off the floor and give his response.

Of course, there was only one possible response to Ghirahim's request. It was a rather obvious response. It was a response Link enjoyed, one he had embraced since he lost the battle for freedom. It was all he could do to fend off the pain and make it from one day to the next.

Yes, Master.

Link turned his head to the right, taking in the sight of Jinka and Raika lying over top of each other in a mess of tangled bodies and weapons. Together to the end—how predictable—and as sad as it was, it also lit a small fire in his heart. Together forever. That was what he was waiting for, wasn't he?

Just waiting. Waiting for the blood to stop flowing, his heart to stop being.

A silhouette blocked out the sun, and he looked up into the face of a young Sheikah warrior, mouth and nose covered, blue eyes piercing into his.

"Are you here… to finish me?" Link asked.

She nodded silently, her braid dangling inches from his face.

"Good… that's good… Master… hates to be kept waiting, and… I think I'm already late…"

The Sheikah's eyes filled with confusion, but Link let out a contended sigh, more than prepared to say goodbye to the world. To say goodbye and never look back. He was the last one to fall.

He was ready.

She poised her sword above his head, gripping the hilt with both hands. "Do you have any last words?"

Link's lips twisted in a moment of thought as he considered the idea in his head. "Last words? That's kind of silly, don't you think?" He wasn't quite sure where he was going with his train of thought, but to his blood-deprived mind, it made plenty of sense. "I'm a stranger to you… everyone I want to talk to is already waiting for me… why should I tell you what I have to say?" Then he laughed. "Of course… it'd be fun… just to mess with people… it would confuse them, wouldn't it?"

The Sheikah was now staring at him like he had grown a second head, and he was certain she thought he was insane. He probably was. When was the last time he ate? Slept? Bathed?

"No… No, I won't say anything. I'm ready to go."

He closed his eye, a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth, and he waited for impact.

It came in a burst of burning, searing agony, and numbness followed shortly after, soothing his nerves and darkening his mind, pulling him down...down…down… to the eternal sleep.

He may have been broken. He may have been a slave. He may have died alone in battle. But he was the last one to fall… and for that, he claimed victory.

White.

Everything was white around him. Pulsing white. Pure white. Beautiful, peaceful, serene white.

No, wait. There was some green… and some blue. Trees? A lake? Where was he? The forest? Was it all a bad dream? Was all of that pain really just a bad dream? Was he still on his mission to rescue Zelda? Was she still alive?

"Link!"

Her voiced echoed through his mind, and he slowly sat, looking around, eyes taking in the beautiful glory of the… eyes?

Link reached up, feeling his face and finding both eyes were there and working just fine. He looked down at himself. No scars, no cuts, no bruises, no blood. But he wasn't wearing his green tunic. He was wearing a white tunic, with gold and blue trimming. He was barefoot. The grass… it felt wonderful under his feet. There were no rocks or prickly barbs hiding in the sea of green.

"Link!"

Her voice came again, and he turned around. He spied her in the distance, pale blue dress flowing around her as she ran, also barefoot, to embrace him.

"Link!" She shouted, giggling as she jumped up, throwing her arms around his neck. "You've finally arrived!"

"A-arrived?"

"Heyo!" Groose stepped out of the forest, Pipit and Karane in tow behind him. "See! I told you I found him!"

Link blinked hard, rubbing his eyes. "Was… was I dreaming?"

Zelda shook her head. "No… no everything you remember was very real. It's just… over."

"Over?"

The group smiled at him, and Zelda nodded enthusiastically. "Over."

Relief flooded through his chest, and he took a deep breath, throwing his arms up and falling back into the grass, his laughter echoing through the endless woods. "It's over!" he laughed and shouting, rolling around and smiling uncontrollably.

Zelda grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. "Come on! There's so much to show you! This world… it goes on forever!"

Groose laughed loudly. "There's no pain! You can skydive without a sailcloth and not only do you not die, it doesn't hurt a bit!"

Pipit chuckled, putting his hands on his hips and rocking on his heels. "Yeah, you can swordfight for real and no one gets injured. It's just fun and active!"

"Hey, Master!"

Link whirled around, smiling when he saw Jinka, Raika, and Deyonce running towards him, all three of them happy and healthy. They were no longer slaves, their bodies devoid of scars, and Deyonce had a smile instead of the bereaved expression he had had on his face when he died.

"Hey!" Link caught the two boys, and they threw their arms around his neck. "No more of that 'Master' stuff. I'm Link now, okay?"

"Okay!" Unison, per the usual.

Deyonce laughed at the interaction and waited until they were finished to give Link a more modest hug, though he made no attempt to hide his joy.

"Link, who are these people?" Pipit asked. "They look fun!"

Link ran his hands through his hair. "I have so much to tell you."

"Tell us on the way! I want to show you the fountain!" Zelda shouted, taking off down the path, everyone else following closely behind her.

Link took several deep breaths, still stunned at how amazing everything had turned out. He couldn't take it all in. The pain, the hurt, the death, the scars, the blood—it was all over. Gone. Done.

Link began to run. "Alright, let's go!"

He took no more than two steps before he came to a sudden stop. Deyonce grinned at him, already knowing what he was about to do, but he kept his lips pressed together in a smile.

Link turned around slowly and started back the way he had come, smiling widely. "How silly of me. I almost forgot." He looked around at the different bushes, and he caught a brief glimpse of white. "Almost."

Ghirahim slowly stood up from his hiding spot between a tree and a shrub, eyes hesitant and fearful. Link smiled widely and held out his arms, watching the demon cautiously approach him.

"I should have known if Deyonce was here, you wouldn't be far behind."

Ghirahim broke into a run and closed the short distance between them, wrapping his arms around Link's neck and sobbing into his shoulder.

"Y-You didn't forget me…" Ghirahim shuddered, gripping Link's shirt in his hands. "I'm sorry I left you. I'm—I'm sorry…" Then, as if he couldn't believe the truth in his own words, he breathed, "You didn't forget me."

Link threw his head back and laughed, holding onto his friend and giving him a squeeze. "Oh, Ghirahim. You're so stupid sometimes."

Ghirahim looked up at him, frowning in confusion, but Link only smiled.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I promised, and I meant it."