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There had to be something more, some other reason for living besides waiting around for tragedy to strike. Then again that’s how it had always been. Constantly called upon to save those the goddess favored, the ones who were far from perfect, those who had free will and were created, not made.
Ghirahim had been forged to keep things safe, to keep everything together and to make sure that there was peace. So why had Hylia decided to create another? Another being to match his skill, to match his knowledge and his beauty? Nothing had ever even compared to him, not until Fi was made.
Perhaps the feeling Ghirahim had towards her was envy, perhaps it was outrage. He had been doing fine for centuries, why did the world need another like him? Was the goddess worried that he would stray from his mission? Did she not understand that free will wasn’t something that had been granted to him in his creation, that he had been created to serve? He had to admit that there had been a few times, a dark voice had tempted him, had called on him to serve a higher purpose, had asked him to forsake his maker and all of the things that she had insisted he protect.
He hadn’t ever listened to that voice, ignoring it with all his might until the day that Fi was created, to be his equal. A fail safe that made him believe he had already lost the war against the darkness in his heart.
So he started to let the words wrap around him, tickling his mind with thoughts of something bigger, greater, better than anything he had ever seen. There would be no more serving those idiotic fleshlings, no more taking orders from a maker who didn’t understand him or care to. A new master, one that would use him to his potential, one that would bring the world to ashes and force it to change.
There was only one problem.
He hadn’t been expecting it, but in the time that he had succumbed to the dark desires in his heart he had managed to make room there for something else. An affection that went against everything he had come to believe about himself and the world around him. He was supposed to be cold, he wasn’t supposed to feel, he wasn’t supposed to let things like emotions get the better of him. And yet he had.
He cared, about what she would think of him for taking a different path, about what she would do with him gone. Part of him wondered how long it would be until they saw each other again. Another realized that he cared, possibly even loved the one who had been made to destroy him. He didn’t want to leave, for fear that it would rip him apart and destroy who he was to her.
Perhaps it was idiotic, perhaps he was being too idealistic, perhaps he had finally learned what it was to yearn for something he couldn’t have.
He could stay and be with her for the rest of their infinite lives. He could try and break through that cold barrier that she kept close around herself. He could work for years to become something that she could see as worthy.
But then he would never know what power the dark held. He wouldn’t get the chance to change anything. He would be stuck in the same rut he’d been in for thousands of years before she was made.
Eventually he had to make up his mind, after years of torture, being drawn in two very different directions by forces he could not ever understand or control. So one day he chose.
He had decided that he couldn’t just leave, so he had gone to see her one more time before leaving. He just needed to know one thing.
He thought it might be sad, thought that perhaps she would ask him to stay, to try and persuade him to try something different, to be better than what their creator believed him to be.
It wasn’t though. It was messy and as he stood there, holding the sword to her neck he asked the only question he could.
“Do you hate me?”
He waited for the answer with fury in his eyes, wondering if it would be better for him to just end her before she could give an answer. It might be better to live without an answer than to know that she couldn’t stand the sight of him.
“I don’t hate you.”
He didn’t realize he had been holding in a breath until the words left her lips, some of the tension draining out of his body.
“I don’t understand, but I don’t hate you.” She continued, slowly standing so they were on the same level. “Just know this, if you let me live we will end up on opposite sides of this conflict. We will be enemies and I will try to kill you.”
He smiled a little, wondering how such a small body could hold such amazing strength.
“Then I suppose we will be enemies.” He withdrew his sword, letting it fade out of existence before touching her cheek and gently kissing her. “I can only hope that battle will never happen.”
He disappeared then, leaving her alone and going to find his new master.
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Unfortunately the battle did happen and sooner than he had hoped.
As he and his master waited for this new ‘hero’ he couldn’t help but wonder which one of them would survive.
Perhaps she had gained strength in their time apart, perhaps the hero was more than he had assumed at the beginning. She had been beaten so easily after just being reawakened, so weak and fragile after thousands of years of sleep. Now she looked improved, longer, sharper, and brighter than she had ever been.
The hero had helped her change, in ways that would only help them in the battle, in ways that he could never duplicate. Maybe this would be for the best, maybe he had made the wrong choices.
It was over far faster than he could have anticipated, his master sealed away and his own body shattered.
He only got one look at her before he drew his last breath, closing his eyes and realizing that he had been wrong.