Sword of Wrath

Entry One

Ghirahim,

It is with great joy that I give you this Journal, or Diary, or whatever you wish to call it. It is also with great joy that I am with you to begin your quest back to your true potential. I can almost see you balking as you read this, but Hylia and myself both know it is for the best, despite all the tribulations that lay ahead, and behind.

You're probably ready to throw this into the closest fire by now. I'm nearly finished, I promise!

You have been given this blank book to write down any thoughts, feelings, or investigations you encounter as your quest unfolds. Write whatever you wish, as it is your private log.

Do not despair, Ghirahim. Everything will turn out as it should be. There is a reason that you lived, although I do not understand why at the present moment. Hylia, however, assures me that the reason is great indeed.

May your quest, investigations, and even, your life, be made clear through this journal.

Sincerely,

The Lady Zelda

BAH! I hate that insufferable Hylian with my entire being! How dare she talk to me, albeit through a note, like that! I can't believe her!!!

I suppose I should introduce myself, even though you're a book, and can't comprehend anything. I am the Demon Lord Ghirahim. Since we will be operating at an incredibly personal level, you can call me Ghirahim. If you could call me anything...

I have fine silver hair, styled immaculately, and clothes of the same style. I stand at seven foot two and weigh roughly six thousand pounds.

I love remilts and hate mushrooms.

I feel the need to explain myself, and my current predicament, seeing as there's a note from Lady Zelda addressing me as a friend at the beginning. I will do my best to explain, although I see no real reason to do so other than to jot down my thoughts, now looking back at what happened.

It began shortly after Demise was revived. I had just stalled the Sky Child long enough for the spell to finish. Seeing him again, at the time, brought myself joy, and it filled me with energy that I had lost in the recent battle with him.

"Welcome back, master," I said with a flourishing bow. He paused from admiring his form to cast a glance my way. I suppose I must describe him as well. Flames as hot as a forge float atop his head, his skin was more black than utter darkness, and made up of large scales that reflected nothing. He wore only a floor-length cloth wrapped about his midsection and legs. He was as old as Hylia and you could see it in his eyes, his hands, rough with battle scars, and his face, wrinkled with an eternity of scowling.

He chuckled and continued to cast his gaze around the sealed grounds.

"It does me well to see you didn't fail me, demon," He said as his gaze landed on Link, who stood ready for whatever may happen, his shield in front and his sword ready to attack. The Demon King's eyes narrowed at him, the flames that made his hair brightened as his temper flared.

"Why does he live," He growled, turning his narrowed gaze back at me. My own temper flared at that point as well.

"He is Hylia's chosen hero, Master," I explained, standing up from my bow. "He's as stubborn as they come, always coming back like a moth to the flame!"

"Why did you not finish him off," Demise growled, the flames atop his head growing brighter by the second.

My mouth gaped open, what else could I have said? What else could I have done?! Did he not understand, or recall, how pig-headed the Hylians were?!