Peace hung over Faron Woods, the wind rustling softly through the trees and undergrowth. A lone figure was wandering up the dirt path through the forest, seemingly lost in thought. Despite his sunny surroundings, the figure had a very pale complexion which contrasted sharply with the reddish-brown cape he wore. His snow-white hair fell over one of his dark grey eyes.

As he walked along, he began muttering to himself.

"I shouldn't have wasted my time with that skyling," he hissed under his breath, his hand clenching into a fist, "I was so close to getting the girl in my clutches." He paused, running his tongue over his lower lip. "But I suppose it was fun toying with that sky brat."

He froze suddenly, his eyes flickering to something on his left. He turned his head in the direction, his eyes narrowing to slits. He stepped off the path, glancing around as he delved deeper into the woods.

Just for a moment, he'd been convinced he had felt something, sensed something, the slightest hint of a dark presence hiding among the trees.

Perhaps he had imagined it...

A sudden sound caught his ear and he whipped around to face the noise. Was he mistaken, or was someone crying? He slowly started advancing on the source of the sound, his footsteps quickening as he drew nearer. As the crying grew louder, he realized it sounded feminine.

He found the poor girl curled up at the base of a tree, her face buried in her hands, her body shaking with sobs. As the girl's head snapped up in terror, a flash of silver could be seen. Her eyes were mismatched, one a bright silver and the other a deep red. Her wavy golden brown hair framed her round face, her long bangs partly covering her face. She was wrapped in a black cloak, her hands and feet covered by bright silver gloves and high-laced boots of matching color.

It was clear now that the dark aura had been coming from her. It was faint, but it was there nonetheless.

"Who are you?" the girl demanded, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

The pale stranger swept a bow.

"Sorry to intrude. It appears you are in distress. What might a little girl such as yourself be doing in the woods all alone?"

The girl looked at her hands, a look of distress on her face.

"I-I don't know," she stuttered.

The stranger raised a quizzical brow.

"You don't know?" he echoed.

The girl offered no response, her gaze still fixed on her hands as if they were something foreign to her.

"I...see," the stranger said slowly, "Then what might your name be?"

"I—I..."

The girl's voice died in her throat. She was trembling like a leaf. At last, she tore her eyes away from her hands, raising her eyes to meet those of her visitor.

"I don't know!" she said, choking back a sob, "I don't know who I am! I don't know where I am! Help me, please!"

The stranger was taken aback. This girl was no Skyloftian to be sure, but where else could she have come from? He was well aware that Hylians hadn't inhabited the Surface in years. And how could such a helpless girl be giving off a dark aura?

Desperately, he tried to think of something to say.

"Oh, silly me," he said, uttering a light laugh to break the tension, "I asked for your name but failed to introduce myself. I am Demon Lord Ghirahim. As to your whereabouts, you are currently situated in what is known as Faron Woods, which is but a small piece of the land known as the Surface."

The girl said nothing.

Ghirahim cleared his throat, "So...you say you can't remember anything?"

"...No."

The demon lord fell silent, quietly puzzling over his situation.

This certainly is a mystery, he thought, It is obvious to me now that she holds some sort of dark power, though whether or not she knows of this herself is unclear. Perhaps it is better not to bring it up.

He mentally paused, a sudden idea striking him.

Or, he thought, I could use this to my advantage. This young girl is frightened, lost, obviously in search of guidance. Perhaps if I were to offer her that guidance, if I were to bring this power of hers to light and train her to use it and nurture it, she could be of some use. She might even be instrumental in the resurrection of my master!

Ghirahim observed the girl quietly before breaking into a radiant smile.

"Don't worry. I'll help you," he said.

"You will?" the girl asked, sounding astonished.

"Of course. I could not ignore a damsel in distress."

For a split second, the girl looked as if she were about to burst into tears again. Then she leapt up with surprising speed, racing forward and throwing her arms around the demon lord. He stumbled back in surprise, a spark of annoyance crossing his face before it was quickly replaced with a flawless smile.

"There, there," he soothed, "You needn't worry any longer. I'll take good care of you. But I'll need something to call you, of course. Leaving you without a name is perfectly unacceptable."

The girl stepped back, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

"But I don't remember my name."

"That's fine," Ghirahim insisted, "I'll give you a new one."

He contemplated her silently for a moment, humming thoughtfully to himself.

"Do you know your eyes are mismatched?" he asked suddenly.

"They...they are?" The girl put her hands over her face. "Are they ugly?"

"No, no! They're beautiful."

The girl's hands fell away from her face, her brows drawn together in what looked like confusion.

"They are?" she asked, "What color are they?"

"Silver and red. Wait, that's perfect!" Ghirahim exclaimed in sudden triumph, "I'll name you after your eyes!"

"My eyes?"

"Ariarose."

"What?"

"Ariarose," Ghirahim repeated, "Rose for your red eye, the name meaning silver for your silver eye. There you go. Do you like it?"

A slow smile spread across the girl's face, lighting up her eyes.

"Ariarose," she echoed, "I love it. Thank you."

"All right then." Ghirahim held out a gloved hand and Ariarose took it. "Now that that's settled, how would you like a grand tour of your new home?"