Fandom Dark Souls: The Second Flame [Closed]

[Lucyfer]

Warmth.

The sensation of sunshine upon flesh roused the Unkindled One from their slumber. The memory of fire and a far less pleasant burning was in the memory of the former High Priest of Anor Londo as he opened his blue eyes and stared up at a stone lid in confusion. He could see, for sparks danced in the coffin with his body. “I’m alive?” Lionel Arun spoke the question aloud in the stale air, before reaching up to try and push the coffin lid off.

It did not change much, so far as the lighting.

Darkness seemed to have consumed everything around him as the coffin hit the ground near him and he sat up, staring at the world around in some confusion. It was familiar, or at least, the bridge over a river was of a familiar construction…only in his day the river had never frozen over, and the bridge had been in far better condition. ‘But this is home, isn’t it?’

A doll fell into Lionel’s lap.

He picked it up, and stared at it a few seconds. He had one as a child, a gift of birth, and a burial gift for the dead. Back then, it had looked just like him, but now it seemed only like woven black threads in the shape of a human. ‘That’s right…I am dead. I must be undead now.’ He was rather unaware of the differences he would experience from the undead, unaware the doll in his hand no longer had its intended use, and such was the reason he could no longer see himself in it. Still, he tucked it into one of the pockets of his robe, to bring along with him.

His head turned to take in the other graves around him, several coffins pushed towards the surface, lids fallen off of many, names aged on tombstones, and he remembered. “Caelia!” He scrambled over the lip of his own coffin, tripping over his dirtied white robes in the process. His hat fell off of his head, the pointed top with the sun, once gleaming golden – now tainted by time, glinting in the artificial lights that were reflected from the bridge. He grasped it up as he hopped on one leg, getting his bearings, and then went over to the tombstones, trying to read them, trying to find where Caelia was.

Had she woken already?

He didn’t even question the logic of how he ended up in a tombstone, and who knew it was him when he was naught but ash. For he had been ash – the fire at the edges of his robe and the sparks that came off of him told him that. He was ash, and this warmth, this fire within, was his.

It should be hers. Lionel was on time, wasn’t he? They had burned together.

His eyes eventually found the name ‘Caelia Neve’ on a tombstone, and he went to the coffin. He pushed against the lid with all his might – more than necessary, it turned out, as it practically flew off and crashed to the ground, leaving him to stumble forward and into the coffin.

Into ashes.

“No….”

A swell of sorrow choked off further words, tightening Lionel’s throat as a gray stain manifested on his robe, and he gathered himself on his knees in the coffin. The empty coffin. Of ashes. Ashes that were not burning, and familiar armor, familiar rings, things he knew that Caelia would have given her soul to be free of. A familiar sword rested in there, too.

‘Please, do not make me do this alone. Please, Gwynevere, hear me. Gwyndolin. Whoever may be left, I cannot do this alone, whatever purpose you have given me, give to her as well.’ Lionel shut his eyes briefly, hoping beyond hope his prayer might be heard, before he heard a monstrous shriek peel across the sky. His eyes opened, startled, and he saw flame dance across the darkness, illuminating a monstrous visage that made his heart sink.

It looked like a dragon.

It couldn’t be a dragon.

He pulled himself out of the coffin. Whatever it was, however far it was, he supposed he could not linger here in his sorrow.

Even so, he moved about the graveyard, and found a shining stone near one marker. “I am sorry, I need this,” he murmured as he lifted the golden stone from the ground, and then walked back to where the coffin for Caelia was. He brought the stone to his lips and whispered against it, the words enflaming the stone, lighting it internally with a simple message: Find me.

If she woke, she would not need to worry.

He set it down, and turned from her coffin. He intended to cross the bridge, but he heard the clang of bells, a sound he had missed before, but a sound he certainly understood from so many stories.

He glanced back at the graveyard, and he saw sparks in the open coffin.



For what felt an eternity, Caelia Neve had only known the touch of ice. It had pierced through her skin and dove into her bones. Her blood had seemed to freeze, and warmth became a foreign concept as she knew but one thing: move forward. Move towards the fire – the last fire, the first fire, the only fire that mattered. She did not remember the flames, she did not remember the warmth, but she woke – warm.

She woke with a gasp, and a rush of sensation, coughing as she sat up in her own coffin, bewilderment coming across her face as she gathered herself, fist pressed against her own chest.

She barely caught sight of Lionel before the man had thrown his arms around her, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

Sparks danced around him. “Lionel, you’re burning!” The realization that she was dead, and burning, had not struck her, as she tried to pull away to find something to do about the fire. When he laughed, she thought him mad, especially as he held her tighter, “You’re going to catch me on fire!”

“I did!” He sounded jubilant for that, only stirring more confusion in her.

Thankfully, he pulled away enough to see that, dropping to his knees so he was closer to eye-level with her, as she was still sitting in the coffin.

Caelia stared at him through those amber eyes, seeing the flecks of white in her vision – enough to know her hair remained that horrid shade. “Kay, do you remember making it to the Kiln of the First Flame?” She shook her head, slowly, so he reached out to put a hand on her arm, bare of the armor for once. “We made it. You took down the guardian of it, and we burned.” From the looks of the world, it didn’t look like they did much good, Caelia noted, as she looked away from him to take in the area around, much as he had done before.

This looked like Anor Londo.

A ruined Anor Londo. A frozen wasteland. ‘Sulyvahn….’ She could still remember that freezing agony that had become her life. That she remembered, not the First Flame, not its guardian, not even burning. “If we burned….”

“The bell tolled. I heard it. The fire is dying,” Caelia knew as well as anyone what it meant, and let her gaze drift back, “Perhaps we weren’t worthy of kindling the fire,” he said, gaze shifting down a moment, “but it was right to do. We’re back now. We’re worthy enough to try and save it again, and save our world,” he looked back up, eyes sparkling with tears. Caelia knew it was not quite happiness, or even relief, at having a purpose – there was true sorrow there, for the state of the world. He could not be happy to know such suffering must be occurring, to know how close things were to utter ruin.

Caelia could not say she was happy to learn she had died. She had burned. And she couldn’t remember it at all. Her gaze drifted towards the armor in the coffin, the realization sitting in that she did not have any other armor. “You don’t need it. Not again. We’ll find new armor. Better armor.”

As he spoke, she had reached out a finger to caress it, “Do you imagine the Blades would ever let me have my old armor back?” No, if anything, she was marked by the Blades as a traitor for giving in. Their memory could be long. Velka would not forget her sins. Gwyndolin…her gaze left that hateful armor to look towards the city, “Do you imagine Gwyndolin is still here?”

The place looked so desolate, it was impossible to imagine anyone holy there, anyone divine. Had Pontiff Sulyvahn won? Had he found Gwyndolin and the other Blades?

Did they fail?

“I do not know…,” the moon was no longer visible. “We can…perhaps we can look?” He suggested, and numbly, Caelia nodded. She started to rise, and as she did, a glinting, blue stone began to fall. She caught it in her hand, noting the shape seemed like that of a tear, and even within, the stone seemed liquid. She squinted at the strange object, before another of those devastating roars tore through the sky, followed by the bright blast of fire.

Her eyes widened, “Is that a dragon?”

“No – it must be a wyvern or something related – I’m sure it’s not an actual dragon. Nothing we can’t handle. If we must. I’d rather we not.” As he said it, there was another pause, and then a deep sigh. “Kay—”

“Until we find something else, help me put the armor on.”

“But what if—”

“We’ll deal with it.” Her anger was palpable, but so was her determination. She understood how useless she would be without her armor, and if dragons, wyverns, or whatever the hell were in the sky, then she could not be walking around in mere clothe.

Grudgingly, Lionel began to assist in seeing the armor on her, and finding the rings, dusty as they were, and slipping them back over her fingers.

She tucked the tiny stone into a pouch on the belt of her armor, which aided in strapping the greatsword to her back – a greatsword that felt too light, and too unfamiliar, now. It, too, was warm – she was certain it had once been frozen.

‘Oh well.’

No time to consider for long, as she wrapped her hair up in a bun as best she could and tucked it under the helmet.

The armor felt like a second skin. ‘It is a second skin.’ Caelia ignored that thought as it was all strapped into place, and she gave a nod to Lionel, keeping the helmet’s facial armor up for the time being, so he could see her face – so she could feel some sense of security. It always seemed that when the armor fell over her face, she lost herself to it. “So, into the city?”

“Into the city,” Lionel agreed, and he allowed Caelia to go ahead towards the bridge with its beautiful, artificial, lights.

She could not see the worry reflected in his gaze as he walked behind her.

 

[Scorpio]

Traveling in the world now was far less pleasant than it had been a few short centuries ago. Aelbert didn't know that for himself of course, but he could only assume that not having to rely on the light from the Red Moon would make stumbling across the desolate landscape at least bearable. He had not known what to expect when he had emerged from his painting a few short years ago, but he'd at least expected a moon of some sort in the eternal night.

It really made him wonder how old he and his painting was that whoever painted it remembered the moon so well.

He took in a struggled breath as he ascended another flight of stairs, taking his waterskin and eagerly drinking from it. Unlike his new companion Eward, he still had to worry about keeping himself hydrated and fed. Not that he could die permanently of starvation mind you, but it weakened him something fierce to go without it. He didn't need the elements as much as a normal living human, as the Red Moon fed him energy still, but he did not want to waste its energy on maintaining his physical body with the amount of aggressive creatures he had to fight.

It was a wonder to Aelbert that his painting had survived as long as it had, truly. The monsters in this world were unforgiving and tore through each other without abandon.

It was wild and- it was quite concerning. How was humanity controlling things leading to such a dark future? He knew the library he lived in for so long was limited perhaps in what it offered its citizens.

But they needed no god to light their world.

Or perhaps they did- humans who kept up the painting were like gods that the world was balanced on.

Still, this world's system of deities was baffling to Aelbert. There was no one all-powerful deity that knew all and led their people. The gods here were, in all honesty, quite pathetically weak. They had to destroy themselves just to keep their rule going on a poetic fire that burned hot. The dragons of old, as cruel as they were, at least did not suffer from such vanity. They simply lived and were quite powerful- the natural pecking order of the world fell into place after that.

Not that Aelbert admired the dragons, mind you. They were nasty beasts who now no longer resembled the great beasts of old. It didn't help that the Age of Fire resembled his life in his library more than this wasteland he struggled through now.

Yes, he felt a little homesick. But he couldn't live in a world he knew only existed so long as nothing flippantly destroyed it.

Aelbert wiped the moisture from his lips as Eward came up, helmet off and in his hands as he raised an eyebrow at him. Curse his panting and the weakness it betrayed. "You alright there Aelbert? You seem to be in distress."

The silver-haired man scowled, "Fuck you Eward; its not my fault that some brainless fool decided to make the entire road here out of stairs. What idiot does that? Just a smooth incline conserves infinitely more energy. Yes you need a longer surface but stairs are the work of the Dimmed Ones," Aelbert snarled a bit at whatever cruel architect made so many of the accursed stairs.

Eward chuckled as he plunged his spear into the ground and stretched for a moment, "I would have thought you'd dislike the elements more. Your robes leave parts of your pectorals exposed."

"Yes, well I can at least keep myself warm. A warming charm is simple enough, and I'm largely resistant to the elements." Aelbert groaned as he cracked his neck and looked across the city that lay below the Lord of Hollows castle of Anor Londo.

His dark haired companion moved up closer to him, "You want to get moving again."

With a snort, Aelbert nodded, "We must. We are far too close to that blasted Lord of Hollows. The last thing I need is for one of his men to grab the Redmoon or my painting." He ran a hand through his hair tiredly, "The fact that traveling to make a deal with actual fucking demons is a better option then the supposed 'Lord of Humanity' is just ridiculous."

Eward snorted, "At least you aren't having to relearn the world. I died before Anor Londo was even finished properly. To see the scaffolding of the great structures that Lord Gwyn was building to be completed, and ruined, in all the same moment is... disconcerting. Besides, the demons were at least in an alliance with the gods. That's more than I can say for the dragons or the Lord of Hollows."

That made Aelbert shrug, "A fair point. I'm glad you've become more talkative now despite being in shock."

The spear-wielder shrugged and sighed, "I had sat for many months in a dour haze before you found me. I had no purpose nor reason to live nor speak. But now that I have sworn myself to protect you, I have a new goal."

Aelbert hummed.

It was an excuse, he knew. A poor one really.

But he would not call the other man out on it.

Not when he refused to reenter his own painting in an effort to avoid the corpses of his flock.

Aelbert attached his waterskin back to its place on his back and leaned a bit on his stave, looking around the city around them curiously, "Shall we be on our way then? We have farther still to go."

Eward nodded, and the two moved onwards, walking across stone pathways and yet more stairs.

 

[Lucyfer]

The ice was not as solid as might be hoped. Beneath the bridge, Caelia could see movement just under the surface of the ice. At least, she thought that she did – it could have been the lights playing tricks on her. The lights themselves were eerie, even if it was familiar. Steam wafted off of them up into the cold air, the heat of the lights causing it. Her own breath froze in front of her face. ‘Funny I even need to breathe.’ Perhaps she didn’t. She wasn’t about to test it, though.

The bridge used to have a shield on it, used to have guardians that would appear should anyone trespass. Caelia hadn’t seen the shimmer of the shield, though, and it worried her a bit as they continued forward, over the too-quiet bridge, and into the too-quiet town square, where a magnificent fountain once stood.

Bits of it were there.

Headless and mutilated statues surrounded it, and there was no water any longer, only crystal fragments. It could have been mistaken for ice, as the crystals imitated frozen water from the fountain spouts.

It was as the pair crossed over the threshold and onto the broken cobblestones that the shimmer of the shield came to life, an aurora borealis of color that made its way across the bridge. “That’s not good,” Caelia couldn’t help but state the obvious as the iridescent hue faded out at the end of the bridge.

“Maybe there’s nothing left…?” It was both a vain hope, and if Lionel was honest, a frustration. There should be someone, or something, protecting Anor Londo.

The sound of shattering ice quickly told both of them that Lionel’s hopes were in vain, and as they looked down from the square, they could see in the frozen river, a canine creature with crystals upon its hide starting to pull itself out from the depths below. Each claw scraped into the layers of ice, revealing that it was thicker than it had appeared to Caelia, for the claws dug in deep, allowing the beast to find purchase and pull itself up.

It let out an ear-piercing howl as it finally stood on the ice, before its black gaze settled on them, high above it, but certainly not out of danger.

“Run?” Lionel asked, already stepping back from the edge.

“Run.” Caelia agreed, and Lionel lifted one hand high above himself. She caught the words of a chant, in a language she had never learned, as she grabbed his other hand. Her next step was hastened, she felt the push at the bottom of her heels, and she pulled Lionel along as he cast the spell on himself, as well, both of them rushing up stairs and by the memories of their home, ghostly figments standing out briefly. Illusions, mirages, true phantoms?

There was no time to consider it.

Nothing stood in their path, no knights of Sulyvahn, no slaves or other inhabitants – the area seemed nearly empty.

That was, until they reached an area near the cathedral. There, hollows were gathered, the armor of Sulyvahn’s priests upon their withered forms. Those empty eyes fell upon the duo that had arrived in their midst, and a creaking shriek parted from one who lifted up a polearm, before staggering forward to try and plunge it into one of the pair.

Caelia was the quicker at reacting, letting go of Lionel to pull her greatsword off of her back. She swung it and severed the hollow in twain, as the others started to come for them. “Stay close.” Lionel seemed to take that quite literally as a moment later she felt his back against her own. More murmured words were leaving his lips, and then a force pushed out from him.

It didn’t strike or throw Caelia – the contact kept her safe. The hollow guards, however, were all thrown back into the surrounding wall or the ground.

Caelia made a lunge for a pair of them, dispatching them before they got their bearings again.

The rest were dispatched not by her, nor Lionel.

The crystal canine bounded into the area, and stalagmite split the ground with each hopping step, striking at all things in its path. Caelia let out a startled cry as one of those stalagmites pierced right through the armor on her leg.

She didn’t bleed – but she felt another searing pain as the icy armor quickly dove in to put pressure on her leg and try to stabilize it, competing against the fire that lived inside her now for purchase.

Caelia dropped to that knee, even as Lionel also let out more of a startled cry. He had been able to evade the crystals that came for him, twirling around it without getting so much as his robe marred. The beast didn’t come for him – it came for Caelia, and allowed him an opening to form lightning in his hands, and hurl it at the creatures back.

Crystals were sheered off and tinkled to the ground.

The act wasn’t enough to put the beast off course, though.

Caelia managed to put her sword between herself and the beast. It bit down on the blade, and Caelia’s eyes widened as she watched puffs of ash fall from her own blade. That wasn’t the largest shock to come, though – the ashes seemed to reveal embers within, and the crystalline creature caught flame.

It quickly released the sword as it wheeled away to put itself out, and Caelia was able to get back to her feet with a shiver. She’d worry about the strange sensation of the armor trying to meld her unbleeding body later.

Lionel formed another bolt of lightning, and as the creature turned to him, smoke rising from its maw as the last of the flames died, Caelia stepped in front of him to make it perfectly clear it had to get through her first.

A challenge it seemed willing to accept.

 

[Scorpio]

Aelbert groaned as they moved forward, rolling a stiff shoulder as they crept forward through the city.

It was not safe truly. There were safe moments without a doubt but too many beings roamed the city. Be they Hollows, Creatures, Pus of Humanity, or the old Pontiff's multitude of creatures, you could stay in place on the streets anymore.

The white-haired man froze as he turned a corner and saw a large group of hollows brawling in the street. "Fuck me sideways," he hissed out in irritation as he looked back at Eward, who raised an eyebrow at the taller but much less physically fit man.

"Do you want me to clear a path through them?" He asked, readjusting his grip on his spear. He probably couldn't take them on his own, but Aelbert had some powerful magic that could turn the tide for him. However, the priest shook his head.

"Overly reckless. Last thing we need is to get into a street brawl with a dozen hollows and attract a dozen more. We go back that way," Aelbert said, gesturing with his staff, extinguishing the light it gave off for a moment.

Eward nodded and the pair began swiftly moving down the backstreets of the city, heading for the bridge out of this accursed land of ice and death.

Of course, it was just their luck to hear the howl of one of the crystalline creatures as they neared cathedral of the city, as well as the clash of metal and bone. Of all the creatures for them to stumble across, it had to be one of those crystal monstrosities. They were the bane of the Painted Man's existence; with hard hides studded with crystals that refracted energy as much as they made it difficult to slash them, they were quite deadly.

The other man of course had less issues with them. What was a hide that was excellent at deflecting strikes against the penetrating thrust of his mighty spear?

Still, they were quick, and agile. Enough to make even someone like Eward wary of their abilities.

Aelbert caught his eye and jerked his head to the mouth of the alley they were in. Eward nodded and they took up positions on opposite sides, peering into the courtyard to examine what was happening.

It appeared they werent the only pair roaming the city tonight, as a priest tossed lightning and a knight of some sort used her blade to catch the beast on fire for a moment. Aelbert scowled, "Of course, someone has to be in our way. All you cursed Hollows, you make this quite bothersome-"

"They're not Hollows Aelbert," Eward interrupted, eyes wide. He might not be an expert on them, but he could see the almost smoldering tinges they gave off. Fire. No Hollow was able to do that, not anymore, and the two certainly didn't have the appearance of Hollows. Whatever they were exactly, they were not of the Undead in the way he was.

Aelbert blinked a bit, "Not Hollows? More's the pity, to have survived in this world only-" He caught Eward's look at him and groaned, "Yes yes, we'll help them, I wasn't going to not help them. I'll hang back- until I have my painting somewhere safe, I do not want to come anywhere NEAR those vicious beats," He said, with a wicked grin.

Eward laughed as he threw his visor down, "Of course of course, why would I have thought differently." He chanted softly as the other knight got in front of the new priest. His hand without the spear became coated with magic before suddenly launching an arrow of lightning at the creature, shearing off some of the crystals from it's back. Eward let out a mighty roar, coating his spear in lightning before charging from the alley at the beast, hoping he got its attention.

His companion rolled his eyes at his antics as he stepped out of the alley, raising his stave aloft as the Red Moon began beaming with red light. He drew the magic from it into his hand before launching out Great Heavy Soul Arrow, carreening towards the creature and slamming into it, a small smirk playing on Aelbert's lips as they joined the other duo in combat.

 

[Lucyfer]

Caelia imagined the creature would indeed lunge at her, but something drew its attention instead. Lightning, and this time, not from Lionel. A guttural roar followed, and another individual in armor joined the fight, rushing at the beast as it turned towards him, so many crystals removed from its hide now.

Lionel and Caelia exchanged a look. Obviously, they could use the moment to try and escape the scene, but a glance back at the individual suggested he was not among the ranks of the Hollow. At least, not mindless, for the arrow of lightning he shot was too precise for that.

Not to mention Lionel wasn’t convinced that Hollows could use miracles.

Another drew their attention, the gleam of the stave casting red lighting about, before another arrow of magic struck it where the hide wasn’t so covered with crystals, effectively avoiding being knocked off target.

An unspoken agreement was made to stay and fight, and deal with the consequences that came with it. Lionel moved to get further away, as Caelia rushed the creature’s back, now that the man with the spear had adequately distracted it with the lightning, and his own partner’s magic work.

It was after the creature’s lunge at the new knight, successful or not, that Caelia was able to thrust her blade over its tail, and through its backside – through that bit of spine that connected into the creature’s tail. Her foot fell on that tail to try and keep it pinned down as she pulled the blade back, knowing the creature was likely to turn on her next if the other knight didn’t act, or one of the priests.

At least her companion was already preparing another lightning bolt for if the creature turned towards her, to try and throw it into the creature’s mouth.

It definitely wasn’t looking so good any longer from all the attacks on it, magic and otherwise. Its crystals even seemed to be losing their shine, an indication it wouldn’t take much more to put this creature down, for good.

 

[Scorpio]

Eward kept up his roar as the creature rounded on him, his spear crackling with divine lightning as he planted his foot and did a quick twil with the spear, dragging it across the beast's face before pulling back and lunging with his spear. It crashed into the crystals, sliding down the before piercing into the hide at the bottom, energy arcing through the wound.

The sizzle of flesh being fried under the spear's head brought a grim smile to Eward's face.

While the creature reared back, trying to drag itself off the spear tearing into its shoulder and round on the other knight who had quickly stabbed at its tail, Aelbert strafed to the left. He didn't want to accidentally hit Eward as he prepared his soul stream sorcery. It needed time to cast and to deal its max damage, but with the creature impaled on Eward's spear and the other knight holding it down, he had the time.

He drew his hand back, red energy pouring from the Red Moon before merging with his own inner soul energy. Flashing in his hand, Aelbert barely was able to hold onto the raw power before shoving it forward and unleashing teh Soul Stream, the massive beam of energy nailing the creature in the side while it tried to snap at the other knight. It could barely move now; with their group, it was a dead creature walking.

 

[Lucyfer]

The magic that stemmed from the mage along with the other knight was unlike anything either Caelia or Lionel had seen before, but there was hardly time to be phased. They had seen many oddities before, and would again. As it was, Lionel was able to use the lightning bolt he’d been holding, in case the creature escaped the knights, and he hurled it at the dying creature.

It seemed to almost immediately deflate with the connection, and after that, Lionel cast a healing spell on Caelia as she took one step back, and in front of him, wary of the new arrivals.

They seemed…sensible. Not lost, not hollow, although looks had been deceiving. The Pontiff had seemed quite…lucid, for a mad-man.

“Thank you for the assistance,” it was Lionel who spoke first, not stepping ahead of Caelia, but coming closer, and stepping a bit off to the side so her form wasn’t completely obscuring him. “We—”

“—want to know who you are,” Caelia interrupted, tone quite a bit harsher than Lionel’s as she let her amber gaze shift between the two of them, staying on the man with the stave longer. His attire was foreign, even compared to the things she’d seen in her travels, she had never quite seen anything like that before, nor his magic, “and what you’re doing in Anor Londo?”

“And if you know what happened. If you’re more friend than foe, we should perhaps keep moving,” he invited, and Caelia bit the inside of her lip, but didn’t protest his statement. He wasn’t wrong. Staying in one place was likely just going to get them surrounded, or worse. Not that she knew what was further in Anor Londo any longer.

Only that it did not seem like the safe home of the gods.

 

[Scorpio]

Eward straightened as the new knight and priest collected themselves after the slaying of the crystal creature. They certainly seemed quite friendly for this world. A pleasant surprise with how deadly everything was these days. Though they did seem quite confused about the state of the world at the moment, which gave Eward some pause.

His companion shouldered forward to his side, stave clinking as the bottom hit the pavers of the street, "What we're doing in Anor Londo? You mean Irithyll I presume- Only a fool would encroach on the steps of the Lord of Hollows without wanting to be twisted into another profane servant of his," Aelbert said hoarsely as he leaned on his stave, "You are not wrong however- with the old order overthrown, hollows and old slaves of masters long since cast down clog the alleyways."

Eward nodded and slid his spear into its holder on his back and removed his helmet so the other two could see his face as Aelbert moved forward a bit, "I am Aelbert- High Priest of Louthaerd, though such titles are meaningless now," He said with a small frown.

The knight gestured to himself, "I am Eward, though some simply called me the Slayer for a time." He put his helmet back on as his companion grunted.

"If you wish for sanctuary, I'd suggest coming with us. There is none to be found in this city. We make for a place where there is safety for those not foolish to fall into bed with the Lord of Hollows. We may talk more as we walk but this conflict will likely draw the attention of anyone near here, and I'm tired of having to dodge this blasted hollows," he grumbled as he led the way, gesturing for them to follow as Eward joined him.

 

[Lucyfer]

Lord of Hollows.

Irithyll.

Louthaerd.

The High Priest spoke of terms and people the duo knew nothing of, and Caelia wanted to argue that this was Anor Londo, and to demand information about this so-called Louthaerd, but she caught the look from Lionel. It was silent, but urging – they had stepped into a strange reality, where the fire was low, and many things could have changed. They did not know how long they had been dead.

Sulyvahn could have rewritten the history of Anor Londo. Neither would put it beyond him. He had destroyed the illusion of Gwynevere. That alone helped to destroy all that Anor Londo had been.

It certainly never snowed there.

‘Here.’ Caelia thought, eyes drifting down to the snow that started to cover their footsteps.

Lionel was the one to speak first, taking her arm a moment to let her know they were moving. She followed, but without paying much attention, “I am Lionel Arun. I was High Priest in Anor Londo – forgive me, but this Irithyll looks like my home from before, Aelbert.” He offered, to explain his own confusion, “Caelia – a…,” he almost thought to introduce her as a Blade, before realizing that was…not a good idea.

And she’d never accept being introduced as an Outrider.

“Another resident of Anor Londo, my friend, and myself hailed from there, in the days where the gods lived among us – at least…when Gwynevere and Gwyndolin did. Gwyn and the others had long since left to…other places.”

He did not know where others went, though he knew what became of Gwyn. All knew what became of Gwyn and the sacrifice he had made to continue life. “We haven’t been…alive for long. We just woke in the cemetery outside when the bells rang. We tried to link the fire years ago.”

“We failed.”

“We failed for this purpose.” Lionel insisted. He imagined he would have to do that quite a bit. “I’m afraid we don’t know who this Lord of Hollows is, or what’s gone on.”

 

[Scorpio]

Aelbert looked over at Lionel with great interest upon hearing he too was a Priest, "Ah, you're a High Priest as well? That's- that's fantastic, honestly, you don't understand the intellectual vacuum that Ive found here. No offense Eward; but his specialty is not matters of faith you know," he said before pausing at the comment about Irithyll looking like Anor Londo.

As they explained more of their story, Aelbert frowned as Eward hummed a bit sadly at the mention of Lord Gwyn. "It still pains me to hera the fact of his Majesty. To think he would throw himself on the fire..." Eward clenched his fist, "And now to see the palace he'd spoken of building be so dilapidated, its quite frustrating."

"Wait you said some of your gods dwelled among you? How interesting! From what I read the gods had abandoned your city before the Pontiff took over- but they were actually here? Granted, the Pontiff seems a bit self-absorbed as his histories mention little besides his glory, but I didn't think he'd scrubbed so much away," Aelbert commented before blinking, "Oh... wait. You tried to link the fire that long ago?"

The Priest sighed and rubbed his head, "Much has changed in the time since you died then I'm afraid. It's been hundreds of years as best I can tell, especially if you don't know who the Lord of Hollows is."

Eward grunted, "We should probably explain who that is then."

Aelbert coughed, "Ah yes, fuck, you don't know. From what I've gathered, the Lord of Hollows was an Unkindled like yourself who went Hollow somehow and usurped the Flame. He now has all its power, as terrifying as the idea of one man hvaing that sort of power is..."

As he trailed off he moved closer to Lionel, "So you are a priest- tell me who did you worship? I simply must know- our faiths are likely much different but thats just even better!"

Eward chuckled as he moved closer to the warrior, "I hope you are adjusting well to being alive again. I only recently recovered my humanity myself so... I too am having to catch up to what has happened while I was insane."

 

[Lucyfer]

Lionel couldn’t help the slight chuckle at the comment about an ‘intellectual vacuum’. Eward didn’t appear to take offense, and Lionel could easily imagine the knight considering his companion had much to learn. Yet, it seemed the timings of them all were…out of sorts. Lionel blinked a bit quickly at the mention of Lord Gwyn – or rather, how Eward referred to him. As if he had known him.

As if he had lived in the time before Gwyn saved them all.

He wanted to ask more about that, but was drawn into the story of the Lord of Hollows, another unkindled who opted not to save the fire, but take it into themselves. And the Pontiff was, apparently, responsible for this…Irithyll. For erasing much, “Oh…oh that explains it, then.” The fire wasn’t gone, exactly. It was in someone else, but in that state, likely not useful to anyone. Was that why it was so dark? Does that mean they really had seen a dragon?

As his gaze drifted down, the other priest came up to his side, and he managed a wane smile, “I worshipped all of the gods – even Gwyn, though he was gone from us, but I was officially a High Priest of Gwynevere. I knew her—or…or I thought I knew her. She turned out to be an illusion…Gwynevere was long gone, too. I still do not know where they went, or why they left us, or if they even still live. I do not suppose you have heard rumors?” He asked, as they started to take stairs that led down, weaving around the edge of a cliff, rather than go towards the cathedral or any other familiar buildings.

It was likely for the best. “I take it you did not worship Gwyn or the others, though. Who did you adhere to? And where is Louthaerd? I…in my time I knew of no place by that name,” that could just mean it was another place that had undergone a name change, though.



Caelia listened a bit to Aelbert and Lionel as they spoke faith. She was certainly curious as well, and likely could have easily listened in silence and kept an eye on the environment, but she was soon distracted by the knight, checking in on her.

Was she adjusting well? “Hard to say,” she wanted to get out of her armor. Each step on the wounded leg still sent a chill through her, suggesting the armor had already woven its way into her flesh again, at least there. She did not want to lose her own mind again. It seemed Eward himself had experience with that, having been Hollow. “I am glad you found your humanity again. I hardly wish insanity on anyone.”

Perhaps only the Pontiff. Who she would not call by that title, ever, again. “You knew Gwyn, didn’t you?” Perhaps not personally, but…, “What happened to you?” Obviously, he had died and been cursed to undeath, in a way quite different from her. She heard of such people being confined to an asylum, but she had not known much about it. It never became much of a concern to her, until she left Anor Londo, and even then…she wasn’t seeking that kind of truth.

She had been seeking the flame, and that alone had kept her from sinking into true insanity. That, and likely, Lionel’s constant healing, which kept her from death and undeath, before the fire.

 

[Scorpio]

Aelbert listened to the unkindled as he talked about the gods he worshipped, only to snort when told the goddess he worshipped was a mere illusion and that she was elsewhere, "Well doesn't that sound hauntingly familiar..."

When asked about his own faith and where he lived, Aelbert cleared his throat, "Yes of course, my apologies; well firstly, as for your goddess or any other gods... if they still lived at some point they likely are dead now. The land has been plunged to darkness with the absence of the first flame, and unless the Lord of Hollows let them hide out, they're likely gone. Sad really- from what I heard the Dark Sun Gwyndolin was rather good for a diety. All about Justice and the like, rather noble. A pity what happened to him," He said quietly. The Pontiff seemed quite the bastard to take something like a diety and feed him to a foul beast of a person.

"As for myself well," He paused for a moment before elaborating, "Have you heard of the Painted Worlds? Magical paintings that contain their own worlds inside them?" He asked, taking care to not reach to the part of his pack that held his painting, "I come from such a land, Louthaerd. It was towering library suspended in the universe with books on subjects too numerous to count. We all who lived there were part of a cult that worshipped the painter, though we didn't realize that he was a painter or that we came from a painting for... quite some time." he explained.

Aelbert had to chuckle a bit as he looked at the slightly shorter priest, "It seems we both believed in gods that, while real in some ways, were nothing but illusions in others. I... do not worship him, not in the same way I used to. Perhaps it should have been a sign that he was no true god when we only learned sorcery from the library and never miracles," He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Yet what else am I to do? Decades upon decades in that painting devoted to a deity that was only a deity to those of us stuck inside his paintings. And now I find myself in a world where the gods have been thrown down and all that remains is the profane. Disgusting."


Eward hummed in agreement when she mentioned her gladness that he had recovered his humanity and then asked his history, "Thank you for your kind words. Frankly, I remember little of my time insane. Most days were spent locked in the asylum the gods made for us Undead. Aslyum, well, its not a fitting name. It was more or less an eternal prison for us until we went inevitably hollow."

He adjusted the straps carrying his spear as he continued, "Once the hollowed undead were released from the asylum- well, we wandered of course. I remember even less of that time. In the asylum you had grown to something of an understanding with other hollows. I could kill them easily even in my undead and hollowfied state, so they knew not to touch me. The outside world? Less so."

Eward shrugged, "Still, I wandered about until I somehow had the sense to burn a human effigy. Perhaps I was tired of the insanity, perhaps I wanted to remember- or maybe I was insane and there was no justification."

When she mentioned him knowing Gwyn, he sighed, "Indeed, I did. It was long long ago- most people of this age don't remember his name anymore beyond him being a God of the Sun. I was part of his army in the war against the dragons. I held no personal vendetta against the beasts; merely the fact they wished to see us still be enslaved to them and their devices was reason enough. Perhaps if we had been able to get along I would have slain other things, but that was not to be. And now, I have little purpose besides making sure my reckless companion does not see himself impaled by some beast."

He sighed and looked over to Caelia, "So what is your story? You wear armor and are a knight of some sort as well. What cause did you fight for before it all ceased to matter?"

 

[Lucyfer]

The snort that came from Aelbert was rather offensive to the blonde priest, and although his face didn’t heat, he was prepared to defend himself – but he stopped short as the other mentioned his tale being ‘hauntingly familiar’.

He did not get to that point, but spoke first of the Gods that once were. Likely, dead. It seemed he knew something particular about Gwyndolin, and that caused him to glance back at Caelia to make sure she hadn’t caught it.

She had.

He put a hand on Aelbert’s back and stepped a bit closer in walking alongside him, “Please be a bit quiet in mentioning Gwyndolin – for the moment,” he took his own voice down to a whisper, thankful right then for Eward’s distraction with Caelia. He was not certain what she may or may not remember herself – but Aelbert was certainly right on one thing: Gwyndolin, and his followers, were seekers of justice.

If any of the Blades survived, they would know Caelia’s name, and they would want her dead. They’d encountered it even in their own time, and Caelia had cut them down like anyone else; whether she knew she had or not, he was almost afraid to ask. Those had been in the later years, when it became known what happened in Anor Londo.

Perhaps Gwyndolin himself had even dispatched them from Anor Londo…if he had lived long.

He listened as Aelbert spoke of his own place. He nodded at the mention of Painted Worlds. He knew of them, and had craved to know more when he learned that Sulyvahn hailed from one. He’d contemplated burning them, once, but supposed there might be decent people in them. Still, the revelation certainly caused him to pull his hand back as if it’d been stricken with a bolt of lightning.

His deity as a painter was no surprise, given the context, and Lionel tempered his response a bit, recognizing what he had meant earlier, “Anyone who can create worlds such as that has power. Perhaps they were even like a god here. I have heard of the paintings. Sulyvahn,” he emphasized the name over title, “was from one, and he ruined everything.” The bitterness remained. “I can’t tell you want there is to do. I know I intend to fix this…the world did not use to be so bad. There was sun here, and there was life. Peace, or near as we ever go. Perhaps it is foolish still, but I still believe I am seeing Gwynevere’s plans for me through, by having failed to link the flame, and returning now.”

He, at least, had that. “Perhaps it was no mistake that you ended up in this world, too, a plan of your painter all along, that in a home of knowledge, someone would come from it to help the dying world the painter was in. What was their name?”



Asylum implied recovery, but there was no recovery to be had for the Undead. Just an eternal hell, going Hollow, and losing all sense of self. No, it certainly didn’t sound like a good, long-term plan. He spoke of an effigy, and it brought a twitch of a smile to her own lips as she recalled the dolls of Anor Londo, a doll they had from their childhood, and a doll that would be buried with them.

She’d never understood why.

She didn’t have a doll on waking, though. Then again, who would bury her with one? Who had even found her ashes to bury in the first place? Questions for another day, perhaps.

His time was a blur, until that point. He was lucky not to have died when Hollow – he would have certainly been lost forever at that point.

Yet, her attention shifted up when she did hear that fateful name, and she noted how quick Lionel was to move closer to Aelbert and hush his own voice. Her eyes narrowed on his back, before she was brought back with a question of her own history.

‘Before it all ceased to matter.’

Her throat tightened on any words. She had to take a moment to compose her answer, “This armor is a lie,” she said, as if that would dissuade any thought of her being a knight, or someone worthy. “I was nobility in Anor Londo a long time ago, when Sulyvahn was making his bid for power. I was exiled along with many others, and all that mattered was surviving long enough to get to the flame, after I saw that the sun there had been a lie. You learn to survive with whatever you have, or whatever you scavenge…and I had to protect him, as well.”

Given, both men obviously had their powers.

She skirted around any mention of the Blades, though. Or the term ‘outrider’. Exile could mean anything else, though it was unlikely Eward would be familiar with Outrider, given how long he was away from the world. It still wasn’t worth it to her to mention. “How did you meet your own friend? It must have been recently,” given his own story.

It seemed an adequate way to move from the topic.

 

[Scorpio]

Aelbert raised an eyebrow as the other priest moved closer to him and placed a hand on his back. How odd- was this really his first time having someone else's hand on his back in this world? There was the occasional flame back in his painting but this was the first non-hostile physical contact in this new strong world.

How strange. It was rather nice all things considered.

As Lionel mused on paintings and the nature of him existing and leaving his painting now, Aelbert studied his face. The man was not naive, he could tell that. This world waqs even more merciless than his own, however it was surprising to him that anyone could so fully believe in some greater providence.

The teachings of their cult had, of course, praised the all-knowing deity of the Painter, but that was ultimately wrong. Whether he believed in divine fate or will, he no longer was sure. Though when Lionel suggested that it was planned that he would leave to help the world, Aelbert let out a quiet snarl, tempering it when he remembered that he was trying to not be loud.

"You know not what went on in my painting that led to me leaving. If some god planned what went down, I wish to meet them only to spit in their face and grind them under my boot-heel," he growled, before sighing and forcing to let himself to let go of some of his anger.

"I... well it is refreshing to have your faith around even with that said. Perhaps your gods are worthy of their status. You will have to tell me more of them- I've managed so far without a god and being disenchanted with the concept at all. Perhaps hearing of yours would do me some good." He said with a tense smile, hoping that his sometimes caustic demeanor wasn't too off-putting for the other man. Aelbert knew he could be rude and frustrating to talk to, but the many years of chaos and death that led to him leaving his painting had warped his personality a bit.

What was this? Shyness? His time wandering alone and with the same company for centuries dulled his ability to socialize this much?



Eward fully doubted her words that the armor was a lie. A fierce woman like herself, able to hold off a crystal hound and protect a far less protected priest? No, she was no spoilt heiress or even one who learned on the run. He knew what sort of style was born of desperation.

Even his own fellow knights had moves they used that were far less precise and disciplined that had been in the midst of a harrowing battle with a dragon. Improvisation and a keen sense of fighting were wonderful tools and meant that you didnt need training against the average opponent. But he could tell, there was training behind her strikes.

But they all had their own pasts. He would not interrogate her on her past anymore.

When she mentioned having to protcet Lionel, Eward chuckled a bit, "Yes, he seems like he couldn't kill a wyrmling. Not that its a bad thing- a priest shouldn't have to worry about such things really..." he mused.

When asekd about how he met his tall companion, Eward looked away. "He stumbled across me. I was... rather distraught. Millenia have passed since my death you know, and here we are with dragons repopulating and the fire out. Everything we were fighting to build has been built and swept away by the sands of time, and yet here I am. I'm still reeling honestly, but Alebert literally slapped me out of my pity party," he laughed. "He needed my spear to kill some troublesome beasts that had followed him. Maybe it was just my time serving in the army, but being told to pick up my spear and defend someone was like second nature for me."

"And if I have eternity now, I could at least make sure he didn't die for a while, you know?"

 

[Lucyfer]

Lionel did not take offense as he was met with harshness. It was not the first time and it would not be the last time. His belief had remained constant, and he had found himself rewarded for it each time, in spite of the situation – even if he had some similar feelings as Aelbert, some anger to work out himself, towards the gods that abandoned Anor Londo and the lie of Gwynevere. Yet it hadn’t meant that Gwynevere was not looking out, somewhere. And Gwyndolin, as he understood it, had the best intentions with the lie…but he couldn’t see the Dark Sun as a deity of justice after that.

“No, I will consent that I do not know what happened to your world, though I hope that one day you will tell me, that I may better understand,” Lionel answered, “and I will tell you all I know of the gods of this world, from the Lord Gwyn to Velka, and all the rest that I know. I have gone through my own share of horrors, and perhaps I am naïve to continue to consider it is for a great purpose…but I am here. A failure of kindling, but I am here at the end, and so is my friend.” So he was not there alone, either. It wasn’t all upon his shoulders, “And we have found you, and Eward, as well.”

As they reached the end of the steps that took them down and around Anor Londo’s ruins, the shore opened up before them, sands glistening with shattered titanite amidst the once pure-white grains of sand. It was a strange sight with trees not far off, branches heavy with snow, and water iced over. The warmth of the world was gone.

And hollows groaned out their agony ahead, seeming more like lost wanderers than anything else, the attire varying between that of slaves to nobles, and Lionel’s gaze softened on them, pitying. He knew their aimless wandering would change once they noticed they were present, and it was nicer still to put them out of their misery than try to avoid them. Eventually, the Hollow died, and stayed that way, never to rise again. Eward was fortunate not to get so far gone.

“Is our destination far?” He asked, when Eward and Caelia had caught up. He chose to wait at the end of the steps for them.


Eward did not press the matter further, did not ask how she came about such a fine set of lies. Caelia was unaware she’d revealed much already with her fighting style; it had been too long since she considered such a thing. She’d only had Lionel for company, and while he was well trained in fencing, he was not so well trained in the more brutal style that Caelia employed.

She did chuckle, though, “He might manage a wyrmling. His miracles were quite the sight, before…,” she realized that he had only thrown bolts of lightning at the crystal creature, and wondered if he could still recall all that he used to. The sky used to open up for him. Rain would fall like tears of the gods when he was angry, invigorating her each time. “That is, so long as the wyrmling never got close, which I suppose is why you wear such armor.” And it was true, then. Dragons were returning with the darkness. She wasn’t sure she’d do any better. She couldn’t throw lightning.

Caelia did smile at his own tale, though. She knew what it was to just…need something, anything, to put one back on track. “I’m glad that you found each other then.” She noted, and saw how Lionel had paused at the end of the stone steps. She could see the hollows roaming ahead, and the forest before them, just along the icy shore. “Seems there will be plenty of fighting ahead for all of us.”

Unfortunately.

They came up to Lionel, who seemed to want to confirm that they were heading in the right way – and how long it might take. Good questions. Caelia’s own gaze moved across the shore, rather than the trees. She would have been more inclined to follow the shore once upon a time, instead of venturing into the trees. There was talk that once giants had lived in the forest, before perishing, and becoming those trees. Caelia had no idea if it was true or not, though giants had mostly been legends by the time she was in the world. What she did recall was that no one went into the forest unless they had a very good reason to do so…and not all returned.

 

[Scorpio]

Aelbert quieted a bit and reigned in his scorn a bit as Lionel seemed to be quite agreeable and understanding of his simmering rage at his creator. He couldn't help be a little amused at the admittance of naivete. Not that it was particularly funny to him, but Aelbert knew many priests of faith were inflexible and unmoving pillars; the only reason he was not that way was that their faith naturally was built on questioning and studying the world and magic. It was far more inclusive of deviant thought and questions than other religion may be.

"Perhaps I will speak more of my past at a later date- tis not a pleasant story, but I understand that few have pleasant pasts in this world either. I am happy to have met others who I can talk with. It does make the burden of this land far easier. And... I would like to hear more of this cycle of fire that I have heard about. You sacrificed yourself as kindling," Alebert said, leaning on his stave, "I cannot help but be confused at such an action. Truthfully, this future is bleak, but is it because of the lack of fire? Or is it because the fire existed and was so easily usurped? Would keeping it burning restore a world that has groaned in pain as its ripped itself apart for centuries and millennia?"

As they arrived at the shore, Aelbert began using the Red Moon to warm himself. If Irithyll was cold, the wastes surrounding it were straight ice.

"The remaining humans and hollows who dare resist the Lord of Hollows and do not welcome the raising dragon hoard have made peace with the last of the Demons. We make for the Smoldering Lake, beneath the Catacombs of Carthus. A small encampment is there," Aelbert said firmly.



"Your Lionel sounds like quite the priest. The only Priests I have met are him and Aelbert, who's sorceries are quite captivating. The power of magic eh? I've only used miracles sparingly, primarily to fulfill my duties to His Majesty in the slaying of dragonkind," As they got near the other two men, he nodded a bit, "yes, well, this armor was mine in yesteryears, when I was alive and fighting Dragons.It served me well then, it will serve me well now. But it also will do quite nicely with the beasts roaming the land once again."

Eward smiled at her, "I am happy you never lost Lionel. You two support each other quite a bit, that much is evident. Having a stalwart companion is priceless."

As they came to Aelbert and he explained the situation, Eward nodded, "Indeed, that's much the same as I heard. The old kingdom that existed before teh Lord of Hollows, Lothric was it? That has been taken over by dragons mostly it seems. It would not be too safe to tread to close to there, and personally? I refuse to sleep in the swamp that is the land of Ferron," Eward said with a chuckle. "At least in this settlement, we will be able to rest and resupply."

 

[Lucyfer]

To be sacrificed as kindling, and then to not be worth it – even after defeating the guardian – was almost laughable. It was Lionel’s faith that would see him through this new task, of course, and his belief that this, then, must have been the plan from the start. He gave a nod, “That is a story for a later time, when you can tell me what happened to Dark Sun Gwyndolin,” for he would want to know, and break that news to Caelia. ‘And if the Blades remain, or….’ Questions for later, as he could not ask them now.

For now, they had been rejoined by Caelia and Eward, and an explanation was offered as to where they were heading. “I cannot say I know the route,” Lionel confessed, “I hope one of you can lead, or else we may wandering for a quite a while ourselves,” either until they happened upon someone who knew the route, or simply got lucky.

Caelia did step ahead, and step by Lionel, “I’ll at least clear our path,” Lionel was only so useful as he had energy to cast. Well, that wasn’t true – he could fight, but she’d prefer he not need to, when the hollows ahead did not look like anything too difficult to handle. She’d rather get them while they were off guard, instead of when they became aware of them.

Caelia stepped off the steps and moved on ahead towards the forest. She was prepared to follow along the water if need be – smoldering lake implied that they may need to do so, but then again, the river here wasn’t smoldering. It might be entirely separate, and further inland seemed more likely for a residence underground.

Lionel let her move by, but looked back to Eward, “My friend is…a bit rash,” he confessed, with an easy smile that belied the troubled thoughts in his head, “would you see to it she doesn’t get too injured? My healing only goes so far.” He wouldn’t explain; it wasn’t for him to explain, just then.

His spells never helped with the armor. He was never quick enough; the armor always dug in before his healing spells hit. He didn’t know if things would be different now, but he knew that it was better not to test things.

If they could get to a safe spot, she could get out of the armor once and for all, and they’d never need worry about it.

But if she took too much damage…if it was the same as before…he’d lose her, just as surely, as he had before.

He heard the first swing that cut right through one of the hollows, before others noticed the woman in their midst who was, very clearly, not among their ranks. These, Lionel was not too concerned with, but it was easy to imagine that a place meant to hide out from the Lord of Hollows might have some protection to it – and he had already seen from the Lord of Cinders that those guardians didn’t always know what was best.

 

[Scorpio]

Aelbert bit his lip at the mention of Dark Sun Gwyndolin. If there was one god in this new world that he related to, it was that one. Forced to make tough decisions to protect those he cared for, and then for it all to blow up in his face. No small part of the priest also was revolted by the being Aldrich devouring anyone, but also someone who was more or less a benevolent deity. Aelbert wouldn't call himself a good man, or even a decent person- but such cannibalism was abhorrent to him.

Still, it was intriguing that the other priest took this new reality and purpose in stride. How bizarre. It was impressive in an almost self- destructive way.

"Well, the area we're going to is a bit off the beaten path-" Aelbert said after they were joined by Eward and Caelia, before Caelia stepped off and began marching towards the forest and the hollows in their way, making Aelbert grumble a bit, "Yes yes, run the fuck off why don't you," he sighed.

Eward chuckled at his companion's reaction before Lionel's comment, "Of course. Leave it to me- these mindless beasts are little match for anyone with training," Eward boasted a bit, spear hefted into his palm before he charged the hollows with Caelia, the spear cackling with powerful divine lightning.

He careened into a Hollow near Caelia, goring it with his pear before spinning it off, throwing it into another Hollow. Turning to a group of Hollows near him, Eward raised his hand high into the air, lightning crackling and arcing as it formed a great stake in his hand before he thrust it into the ground with a roar, blasting all the nearby Hollows away.

The black haired man looked over at Caelia and smirked, "How fare you Caelia?"

Aelbert chuckled as he watched the two knights go about clearing the path, "They are frighteningly efficient. I'd hate to have to fight them- I'd probably be speared through like a boar before I even had a chance to think." He gathered power as he began moving to follow them, "Come Lionel, they will need me to show them where to go. Unless they are secretly masters in the fine fucking art of finding entrances to catacombs," He chuckled.

 

[Lucyfer]

“Well, I’m not sure about that skill,” Lionel chuckled, “but I think they would be tenacious enough to search the world over until they found it,” of that, he was certain. He and Caelia had searched the world over for the first flame, or at least, it felt like that.

There weren’t exactly directions to it. Just rumors.

As the hollows began to dwindle in numbers, he stepped after Aelbert, taking note that neither Caelia nor Eward seemed to sustain injury this time around. Not for lack of trying. Aelbert was certainly right – the likes of himself or Aelbert would have a difficult time handling Caelia or Eward if their magic couldn’t stagger or destroy them in a hit or two.

It was good to have allies such as these, though.


Caelia’s fighting style, while it held finesse, was still a style that was reckless. Openings were left so she could more easily take advantage of openings in others. Particularly against foes such as hollows who seemed to have only rags and claws, Caelia paid little heed to caution, throwing herself into it and cutting them down.

There was no flash of lightning, just metal on flesh.

She did nearly swing her sword into Eward when he stepped to her side to take down a hollow who was rushing for her, unused to working with a companion who also took to close-range fighting. Thankfully, she remembered herself before finishing that swing, and she just spun on her heel towards the next one, thrusting her blade into their gut.

They were lifted with her next move, and sent into another foe, that was taken down an instant before they could recover themselves. Between herself and Eward, the hollows of the area were fairly easy to take down.

She only gave a simple nod to Eward, at his query. Everything had fared well, after all. They could proceed, something that the priests noticed as they moved to join them. Caelia would step by to allow Aelbert to pass ahead, though she lingered barely a half-step behind, prepared to move ahead if need be.

Otherwise, she knew he had the knowledge to lead. She had only wanted to make sure the outset was clear, and she would indeed keep moving ahead to see that done.

She couldn’t ignore the nagging at the back of her mind, though, as they walked. With the violence settled, she asked, “You two were discussing Gwyndolin, earlier.”

“Ah, yes, well, he doesn’t know too much about the gods here yet, so I—”

“Lionel,” Caelia cut in calmly, and he sighed heavily. He was going to ask anyway, to tell her, he supposed it likely was no good to linger in suspense.

“Right, well, I suppose I wouldn’t know so much about them as Eward, anyway, but yes, he has some…news on Gwyndolin since our time,” he hadn’t heard the confirmation, but he did assume Eward knew more, in some respects– still, he did ask, “You did know them, right? Truly, personally?”

 

[Scorpio]

Aelbert watched the two new members of their party closely as they seemed to have a small conflict over the discussion of the gods. Given Lionel's position, it was unlikely that it was due to a lack of belief or disagreement in their goals; perhaps there was something in their journeys that had happened?

Could they have people seeking to do them harm?

...would it really matter to Aelbert if they did? He had few people to cling to and had mercy killed more friends than he could count. Well 'mercy killed'. He was their High Priest- if he'd been any good he would have been able to save them before they were driven insane. There was no mercy killing there. He'd slain them all himself. If they were willing to stay by his side and would not thrust a dagger between his ribs, he had little reason to be rid of them.

What a depressing thought- still, they did seem nice. He hoped they had not done anything truly atrocious that would make him rethink this alliance.

When they began questioning them a bit, a nagging thought occurred to Aelbert. They always acted as if the god was still alive, or phrased their sentences as if he was alive. Oh dear, they'd been dead for longer than he had thought of they were around before the awakening of Aldrich.

Eward meanwhile smiled widely as he finished the fight and the two approached, pulling up his visor on his helmet, "Know them? Well, not personally mind you. Lord Gwyn was a mighty king even when we'd yet to finish freeing the world of the plague of dragons."

He stabbed his spear in the ground to support himself a bit as he reminisced. "I remember all four of his kids- Beautiful Gwynevere, gods that was a woman. Not in that way!" he said hastily, "She was simply beautiful and caring; his majesty was nothing like that, even if he was a steadfast king. We only have to look to the rest of his children to see that," Eward said, sagging a bit against his spear, "The firstborn son who was erased from history, whose name I dare not even utter now. The son born to be raised like a daughter, Gwyndolin. And Filianore. When I died, Gwyndolin was not that old, but the firstborn son and Filianore had already been sent away."

The knight sighed as he shared what he remembered, "Don't take this the wrong way Lionel. I am aware you are a man of the cloth so I am not trying to be unduly harsh towards the gods. I believed in the cause of beating away the dragons that forced us into servitude. However, unless we were true zealots of Gwyn, we found much of how he presented himself in his personal life to be distasteful. He was a harsh and cruel man. Of course, I don't condone what his son did- though Im sure you know not of who i speak. Lord Gwyn erased him as much as he could from history."

Aelbert leaned forward, "It is quite sad that none of that family is still around." He chose his next words carefully, watching Lionel and Caelia, curious as to their reactions and their opinions, "Filianore has not been seen for centuries, as has Gwynevere. Though I hope she still is alive for your sake Lionel; I do not wish your god to be dead. Still, with the death of Gwyndolin, her absence is concerning."

Eward looked over at Aelbert startled, "Dead you say? When did that happen to the young prince?"

"Fed to St. Aldrich of the Deep by the Pontif before the Lord of Hollows arrived and slew them both. A most heinous act- to think some members of Adlrich's church still exist and worship the being," Aelbert snarled.

 

[Lucyfer]

That Eward knew the name of the Nameless Son did spark Lionel’s immediate interest, and yet, he wouldn’t say it. Lionel made a note to consider asking later. He had always wondered if Filianore was the odd one out. He had also wondered of their mother – was it the same, was it different, was she just as divine? There were no teachings of such things, of course.

That was not why the topic had come up, though. It was about Gwyndolin, and while he knew his curiosity on the matter of Gwyn’s family would not die away, he wanted to hear what had become of him.

Gwynevere and Filianore were not seen for ages.

The Forgotten Son, Lionel always assumed, had died with the dragons.

Gwyndolin, it seemed, had a known fate – he had been slain, devoured, by some entity known as ‘Saint Aldrich’ – a strange term for one who devoured a god. And followers of his remained, though Lionel would bet his hand that the Pontiff was behind it and he felt the rage that rose in his throat nearly choke him.

At least Sulyvahn was dead. That was the only bit of good news there, slain by the Lord of Hollows.

It was also good they had paused, when Eward planted his spear in the ground, for he could see the way that Caelia seemed to freeze to her own spot at the news.

He watched the embers dancing across her armor die away, and he quickly reached out to bring her back from wherever her dark thoughts had gone so suddenly, so quickly extinguishing the fire within. “Caelia, it was after our time.” He could guess, only too easily, the sorts of thoughts that would sap away at one’s will and threaten their mind. The guilt. The threat to their purpose.

“But it is my fault all the same.” She stepped back, and his hand fell from her arm. The strength she’d shown with the flames was lesser now, the weight of the sword now seeming more a burden than before. “I showed him. If I had—”

“You did not show him Gwyndolin, and you did not feed Gwyndolin to Aldrich! The blame is on the Pontiff, and he is dead, good riddance.” Even if there was a part of Lionel that wished to have been the one to do it, knowing now all that he did about the man, and now this travesty. Not to mention, seeing what their home had become, this frigid locale. “We’ll see to it that all of Aldrich’s followers join him in the cold void of oblivion for this.”

‘It would not bring him back.’ Caelia did not say that, she simply looked to Aelbert, and shifted the topic slightly. “Do the Blades of the Darkmoon still fight in this world, or are they long gone with Gwyndolin?” It seemed they might find a way to persevere, even without Gwyndolin. Their beliefs had always been strong. If they did persist, their memory would be just as long. They kept quite the list of those who had offended them, aware that in this world, death was not always the end.

Caelia was not so certain if she wanted to fight them again, or just let one of their Blades put an end to it all before….

 

[Scorpio]

Aelbert looked over at Eward with a raised eyebrow. He knew the true name of the Nameless Son? What a curious thing; it almost made the priest wonder what else was hidden within the minds of the undead who go feral. Secrets of great kingdoms long past and knowledge of the long-forgotten. A most interesting prospect, though it was a bit off topic at this moment. Indeed, the true source of Aelbert's interests was the fair priest and knight who accompanied him. He watched the reactions of the companions, curious to see what they thought of the situation.

It all went fairly according to how he would expect someone to react to the death of the divine- that is, until Caelia began saying she was the reason for Gwyndolin's death. Not the one who threw him into the pit with Aldrich, but certainly an enabler.

Lionel seemed quite adamant in convincing her that it was not truly her fault that it had happened. The fair-haired priest was really quite sweet for all his stuffiness. Perhaps it was to be expected, but with most of the religious types left worshipped the Lord of Hollows or Aldrich, well- a decent priest, one who wouldn't stab you for the slightest misstep was a rare occurrence in this dark age.

A fellow kind-hearted soul, even if they both were suffering from cynicism and dealing with it in different ways. He really wanted to sit down with the man over a bottle of wine and pick his mind.

When Caelia questioned him, Aelbert cleared his throat, "A noble goal Lionel, but they aren't too terribly problematic, not anymore. The Lord of Hollows killed Aldrich in battle, so the followers of the Church of the Deep have been at war with the Lord ever since. You will find few outside their cathedral." He patted the priest's shoulder tenderly before turning to Caelia to answer her question, "Of course they still exist, at least in whispers. They are likely few in number, as are all those who served the gods these days. We may encounter them in the sanctuaries we are heading to..." He trailed off.

Eward cleared his throat, with a raised eyebrow, "Not that we will throw you two to the wolves but I would like to know why you ask. Based off what you just said... I can only take it that you offended their order in a way that might mean they'll come after you even now...."

And wasn't that a worrying thought in this already dangerous time.

 

[Lucyfer]

‘Then we shall destroy their cathedral.’ Lionel would not let his words be just a ‘noble goal’. Action was required, and if they were in their cathedral, he would raze it, let lightning dance over it. Tile by tile, like dragon scales, he would tear it apart until there was no more memory of the followers of Aldrich, nor those who trusted blindly in Sulyvahn.

It would redeem neither himself, nor Caelia, but it would remove a scourge from their world that had deeply poisoned it.

Caelia herself listened as Aelbert explained that the Blades still existed, at least in rumor. She wrapped her arms over her chest as he spoke, the chill once more biting at her as if it were new. As if she had not gotten used to it. Eward was the one to ask for clarification, and she did wonder if the Blades had existed in his time.

“I was a Blade of Darkmoon Gwyndolin, before I revealed his lie to all of Anor Londo – that Gwynevere was not there, and had not been there for years, and the fire was dying. They are not soon to forget that. My revelation would have led to the understanding that someone had created the illusion. It must have been how the Pontiff eventually found Gwyndolin.”

How he trapped him, and fed him to Aldrich. And she wasn’t there. The Blades weren’t there.

The old pain of that revelation reflected in the priest’s eyes. He had hardly forgotten his own shock, and how it had quieted him that day, to realize the goddess he had spoken to, that he thought he knew, had not been there at all.

She shook her head. “If the Blades show up, it is my issue to deal with. And I will deal with it.” She had dealt with it before. By murdering them. No one else needed to take on such sins, though. “We should keep moving. As you’ve said, there are dragons now, and this world is an unknown. We will all learn more in a safer haven.”

“Right,” Lionel was fine with a subject shift, or at least, movement once more. He didn’t really…like to linger on the sight of Gwynevere vanishing.

 

[Scorpio]

Aelbert took a deep breath as Caelia revealed exactly what she had down to piss off such a group such as the Blades of the Darkmoon. That was... well, it made far too much sense. The sudden disappearance fo the illusion was something that was oft talked about in the written works about Anor Londo that he'd found. But now that he had more of the pieces of the puzzle that was this world's history...

The albino's hand tightened around his staff as his eyes narrowed a bit at the woman. Perhaps it was strange to say but he was more and more inclined to believe that she was the subject of one of the books he had read back in his painting. A lesser-known and esoteric tome that discussed the story of a tragedy, of a woman who betrayed the gods only to regret her mistake. Dying side by side with a priest she had nearly killed. But the only way for that history to have made its way into his painting was for his painter to have known what happened.

Who was his painter? His Maker? What was his purpose in creating worlds like his? What had been the point of it all?

Did his life mean anything, truly?

He was not Sullyvahn. No, he was never one to be egotistical and despotic. The limited authority he wielded over his fellow cultists had been done as an elected representative, earned through knowledge vast and deep. Aelbert wasn't sure he would ever desire such a position again- seeing his people twisted and warped by a deteriorating world had robbed him of any such ambitions long ago. Having to bury his staff into the chest of Elisibeth, not even getting a parting kiss or touch from Hommel for he'd gone mad long before Alebert had found him- all he wanted was to live in peace.

A pity the world thought differently.

Eward meanwhile processed what she had said. She was, by her own admittance, a traitor to the gods that had led to one of his former king's sons. How was he to reconcile that with helping her? Though... did he? Perhaps not; in one breath Eward acknowledged Lord Gwyn as a great man, and in the next a man who was terribly flawed. She did seem remorseful for her actions and had to live through the darkness that followed Gwyndolin's fall.

How painful such a thought was still. He had not long to process it, but the thought of one of the dear children of the King being devoured in such a gross manner- it made his blood boil. When he saw the rage in Lionel's eyes still at the CHurch of the Deep, Eward cleared his throat, "If you wish to slaughter the remnants of this church, my spear lies with your cause. I would be more than happy to eliminate those who worship someone who does something as revolting as devouring the divine."

He turned to Caelia as she tried to move them along, raising his spear and setting it across her chest to look her in the eyes, "I hope you understand that my first instinct is to skewer you where you stand, the same way I look forward to putting each vile worshipper of Aldrich to the stake." With that said, Eward sighed from under his helm and shook his head, "Still, I have had enough of fighting and meaningless killing in the names of kings. I'm tired enough of it that I could probably make peace with a dragon if its first instincts weren't to bite my head off. You do not take pride in your decision and have suffered for you mistake. That is enough of a punishment for me," he said, pulling back his spear and nodding towards the way to the sanctuary.

"...I care not what you've done. You seem to have suffered enough," Aelbert nodded in agreement and began moving, keeping apace with Lionel, curious still to talk to another priestly man such as himself. Plus, the fair-haired man was just interesting in Aelbert's opinion, "So Lionel, your miracles- how do they work? I know they are from stories, but does the subject still need to be alive? Or is it simply your belief in that person that powers it?" He asked, curiously.

 

[Lucyfer]

Caelia had dealt with far worse reactions than what she was given, and she was expecting them to come. She was expecting one, or both, men to turn hostile at her words. What she had done was a sin beyond forgiving and she knew it, but that hardly meant she would stand there and die. She hadn’t before.

She wouldn’t then.

Aelbert was not the one to make such a threatening gesture, though. Perhaps that was understandable; he was not of this world. His painting was evidently dear to him, in a way that Pontiff Sulyvahn’s never seemed to be. He had, apparently, abandoned his world entirely. Aelbert had not.

It was Eward – the one who had known the gods – who dared the threatening gesture.

Lionel’s jaw tightened, the tension apparent, as Eward spoke through his own fury. He was the one who looked prepared to react – and though Caelia was tense, it was different. It was expected, and so she held Eward’s gaze as he suggested what his first instinct was, before denying it.

Still, her gaze remained narrowed until the spear was removed from her path. She stepped ahead in the direction he nodded, and kept walking. ‘You would not be the first to try and die.’ Oh yes, she had suffered. She would continue to suffer – it was far from over. Were it not for some misplaced faith in Lionel, she might have let herself succumb to mindlessness as an end to the suffering. Or death.

Apparently both of those things were to be denied to her.

Lionel turned to follow, but he did not keep pace. He would let Caelia lead, expecting she wanted no more of conversation right then. He let his attention shift back to Aelbert, as he turned the conversation to miracles. He glanced to Eward, “Well, I don’t know,” that was honest, at least. “I can in no way prove that Gwynevere is still alive. I believe that she is, but if she isn’t…I am still able to access my powers. Gwyn, and his children, also had access to these miracles. Perhaps that’s because they were divine, but I’ve considered the alternative – that they were empowered by the Lord’s Soul that gave Gwyn his divinity to start with.”

After all, before that, who had Gwyn been? There weren’t stories that he knew, but when Gwyn inherited the Lord’s Soul, he became powerful enough to toss down the dragons. That had seemed the source of his power. It chose him though, and it was a power he passed on to others. “I personally believe that Gwynevere is who empowers me, and even if she were deceased, her soul and presence would remain to continue to empower her adherents, but I can acknowledge that I do not know enough about it. It is, after all, based on faith.”

Faith didn’t require knowledge.

It required trust, and trust he did. “What do you think, Eward? You use miracles, too,” he slew dragons, after all. That required the same sort of faith that Lionel himself focused on to bring forth miracles. Perhaps he would have his own insight that could help Aelbert understand, "Oh - does your magic not work the same, Aelbert?" He realized he wasn't asking that, either. He supposed it would make sense. Sulyvahn's magic hadn't seemed...normal.