The Spirit of the Hero; a LoZ Hylia x Fierce Deity fic

Chapter Eight

AN: song above is "Battlefield" by SVRCINA. So I was just kidding about crying in Chapter Five; that was a warm up. Let's actually get to crying now.

TW: violence, slight gore, disturbing magic, (and major character death >.<)

When she had spotted them from atop her crimson loftwing, Hylia's heart had lept in her chest. The monsters had all gone, leaving only the Fierce Deity and Demise locked in an intense battle. She had wanted to reprimand the deity for doing exactly what she had told him not to do, but he had been holding his own.

Until she had called for him.

Until he had glanced skyward.

Until the Demon King had acted so swiftly—had taken his sword back from the deity by some magical means—and charged him with another burst of purple magic propelling him. In less than a second, the jagged, dripping sword had gone from the deity's hand to his chest, then back out again. He had fallen to the ground in a soundless heap.

Hylia screamed. She had never screamed in all her time roaming Hyrule. She had heard villagers scream for various reasons, usually out of fear or anguish. She had never been able to comprehend stifling sadness on such a bitter level. Sadness was not a foreign concept to her, but the tearing of her very heart felt nothing like the "sadness" she thought she knew. Where was the evidence of the gaping wound she could so clearly feel over her heart?

Her loftwing understood enough to dive. Hylia resummoned her bow and drew it back. Just as it had taken less than a second to fell the Fierce Deity, it took less than a second for an arrow of light to embed itself—perfectly centered—into the Demon King's forehead. He roared in agony and clutched his head. Instead of black blood, a blue light poured from the puncture and the arrow disintegrated. As Hylia dismounted her loftwing, Demise fell to his knees in pain. She could see black goo trying to close up the hole, but receding before it could get far.

She hoped it would never close.

As she had predicted, the Demon King spared her and the Fierce Deity one last glare, then melted away and returned to his underworld. He had no reason to stay; the damage had already been done.

Hylia rushed to her dear one on the ground. The stab in his chest was large and bloody, but sizzling as if it were burning. It made her feel sick—a sensation she was not particularly familiar with. She knelt and rolled him to his back, then brushed away his bangs. "Wake up, dear one," she begged, frantically trying to find a word, a gesture, a touch—anything that would make him stir.

He coughed and his white eyes slid open halfway. "You came..." he rasped, his lips barely short of a smile. "I'm s-sorry I didn't—"

"Shh, you did all you could. Now allow me to return the favor." She quickly summoned her golden harp into trembling hands and exhaled shakily.

A song filled the air that sounded strangely sad. Counterintuitive, considering that it healed the shoulder slash the deity had earned earlier in their fight. Hylia continued to play, eyes trained on the largest of his injuries in the center of his chest. It refused to seal. Hylia felt fire and ice running through her veins and would have broken the strings on her harp had not the Fierce Deity spoken.

"Hylia," he coughed, "Demise doused his s-sword... in mortal blood." She inhaled sharp breath and waited for him to continue. "It will not... heal."

Her eyes did not waver from the grotesque wound. "Nonsense. Mortals can be healed." She blinked back the tears that clouded her vision. Regardless of her logic, the cut still would not seal, even as she played the Song of Healing.