Destined to Fight (GhiraLink)

Essence of Life

Link awoke before dawn, shivering and freezing in the numbing cold. Whimpering quietly, he felt around until his hands found something warm, and pulled himself close. Briefly, he opened his eyes and discovered that it was Ghirahim before they slid closed again.

I thought he was cold, Link thought idly as he instinctively pressed his body against the source of warmth. It was quite feverish, but it provided some comfort in the cold night.

He questioned Ghirahim's body heat no more as his mind pulled him back into blissful sleep.

When he awoke again sometime after dawn, however, he did question Ghirahim's body heat. Ghirahim still hadn't woken up, much to Link's surprise; normally, he would have already been awake for two hours and trying to pester Link until he got out of bed or was told to stop. He was weak the day before, though, so Link let him be.

He stood up and stretched. Already several people were awake. Some roasted fruit and meat around a fire, while others attempted to wash themselves in the pond below the Great Tree's roots, which was littered with fallen leaves and other rather...nasty organisms living in the water. Most of the children still slept, and the adults didn't want to wake them at seven in the morning, so it was fairly quiet. Glancing around, Link realized that they looked like some prehistoric civilization, simply surviving off the resources, not living.

He shook off the unsettling thought and instead focused on more important things. Until they were certain that the fields were safe and that they could rebuild society in peace, all they would do is survive.

I need to ask Fukira about Ghirahim. Assuming that Fukira knew enough about sword spirits to know what she'd done, she could possibly explain why Ghirahim was weak, and maybe even his sudden body heat.

The body heat wasn't normal, that much he knew. He could recall complaining about how cold Ghirahim's arms were when he'd had to carry him in the cold desert night. He could also remember touching one of Ghirahim's shoulders, where the skin wasn't metal the day he'd agreed to be his master, when he noticed that Ghirahim had been in pain. He'd had no body heat then.

But why did it bother him so much? He shook his head and sighed.

He glanced around, almost certain that finding Fukira would be nearly impossible. Fortunately, he was wrong; the Minish, already awake, sat on a tree stump, watching him.

"So Ghirahim is alive," she said, voice quiet. "That's good."

Link nodded as he sat next to the stump. "He's weaker though. I actually managed to knock him off his feet yesterday."

"I see..." She ran a finger through her hair, which was now messy. "At least he's getting better, I know that much."

Link frowned. "You don't know what's wrong?"

She shook her head.  "Even Zelda doesn't know what we did, and I doubt she could tell you why Ghirahim is weaker."

Link hesitated, but he nodded. A swordsmith was their best bet. "Alright."

True to her word, Fukira summoned him a few hours later after asking the mountain minish hidden in the woods. By that time, Ghirahim was awake, so Link brought him with him. They all sat around the stump so that Fukira was at least level with their elbows.

"I asked the mountain Minish about Ghirahim's condition, like I promised. I didn't mention sword spirits, since I knew they were unfamiliar to the concept, but I did say the sword had magical properties."

"You don't even know if they know anything," Ghirahim said, scowling.

Fukira rounded on Ghirahim, sending a fierce glare his way. "Do understand that you're lucky to even be alive right now. At the movement everything we do is experimental because our knowledge of sword spirits, even with the reincarnation of Hylia helping us, is very, very limited."