esoteric-mantra-stuff

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Themis and Mnemosyne (a Champion of Embers Sequel-Prequel thing)

Heyyy. This is a request thingy for Oski Farouche who wanted to see more Briar and some Medía stuff. I decided to fuck it up completly by also adding in the sad (whoops). Comments and feedback are always greatly appreciated. Hopefully you guys like it uwu

—------------------

"The most important thing was to pick the right fabric," Mother said, grabbing a small square of fabric from the pile in front of her. "If you pick something that is too threadbare, it won't last. This one is fine, for example." She handed you the soft square of fabric. You ran your fingertips over it, careful not to accidentally snag your nails between the threads. "Do you remember the stitch pattern we did last time?" You nodded. It had been the Running Stitch pattern. "Good, I want you to pick the squares you like and stitch them together like this." She grabbed two out of the pile and demonstrated a slight variation on the stitching you saw last time. "This is known as a blanket stitch, can you do it?" You nodded. "Uh-huh! Let me try!" She chuckled upon seeing your enthusiasm. "Go ahead," she said, handing you another pair of cloth squares.

You both worked together on a new blanket, square by square, each old piece becoming a fragment of a new whole. Your stitching wasn't perfect, but you improved as you went along. The evening was warm, and the camp was bathed in the sunlight that passed between the trees. Aster and Viola were busy reading by the other end of the camp. Your sister had always been the fastest learner, so she practiced with your brother each sentence and phrase. The sound of them sounding out the words occasionally interrupted the quiet atmosphere of the mistwood. Your mother didn't engage in much conversation; she occasionally glanced over at your side of the blanket, commending your work or correcting your mistakes. The silence suited you, as you preferred not to get distracted while using a needle, though it was nice feeling her presence by your side. It had been a while since you'd been able to stop and rest. Ever since you could remember, it had been nothing but traveling from place to place and waiting in the camp while your mother sought the great runes. You didn't really get it, but you didn't question it either.

Nightfall arrived soon enough, and your mother examined the half-finished blanket. Each piece of old clothing had been transformed into a single square. Mother looked proud, pulling you into a hug and kissing you between the ears. You laughed and returned the gesture. It was a moment that would remain in your mind, one of your dearest memories of her, even as you grew into adulthood. You would never finish that blanket, just like she would never finish her quest to become Elden Lord. You can only guess what became of it once she….

….

She gave you a small thing made of twigs and some leftover string—a dreamcatcher. It was one of the few remaining items from her that you would bring with you as you fled across the sea. Dinner that night was lovely; it was such a shame that none of you ever noticed the pair of eyes staring from the dark. None of you ever noticed how they longed for the warmth you shared.

—------------------

You were 7 years old when your mother gave you that dreamcatcher.

You were 9 years old when she died.

You were 10 years old when Medía became your new home.

You were 12 years old when you decided to go to the library and pick up a book called Cometas, Cometas, Cometas. (Kites, Kites, Kites). You read some of it while riding the omnibus home. It was a book full of instructions on how to build different types of kites, from the simplest cross design to a dragon made from paper and wood. You grabbed it on a whim, eager to get busy with something. What else were you supposed to do? Knowing your siblings, Lobo would likely shut himself off in his room and Viola would be busy studying. All of you knew what day it was, but none of you would acknowledge it. None of you wanted to talk about your mother’s death. The little dreamcatcher in your chest pocket burned.

It’s strange, but you didn’t talk about her anymore. You never did, you never even acknowledged that she died beyond what’s necessary. As though her very name were enough to disrupt the peace. Ever since you came to Medía, it was all about surviving until that old doctor took you in. You left all the sadness in the backburner, like a corpse stinking up a room. Were you ever going to talk about it, now that things had settled down? Part of you… part of you hoped you didn’t. Because… because you didn’t know what to say. Was there even anything you could say? It’s almost as if the moment someone spoke up, the spell would break and mother’s death would become real. The three of you knew you had to at some point, but neither wanted to be the first. Looking down at the colorful kites that adorned the cover of the book, you felt a pang of guilt. You’re too cowardly, by far.

The omnibus leaves you by your house. A large villa near the end of the village, surrounded by beautiful fields that are interrupted only by the passing train line. Dr. Márkov, a practicing surgeon, decided to take the three of you in as servants a few years earlier. Taking special interest in your brother due to his condition. While you suspected the doctor saw Lobo as more of a patient than a servant, you were not about to reject a warm meal and a roof over your head. Especially when the man didn’t forbid you from going to school or taking days off. That’s just how things were. You wandered up to the main house and wandered into the servant’s quarters. The other servant, a sweet older woman called Mrs Carrera was out shopping today, so you had the kitchen to yourself to make all the kites you’d like. You pulled out your box of cloth scraps and some sticks you whittled down earlier in the week and wandered up to the kitchen, only to be confronted by another figure sitting by the work table already.

“Ah, Lobo!” You said, a bit surprised to see your brother out of his room today. The gray wolf looked up from his magazine, it’s the one with the mystery serial on it. “I… uh….” You said, as you made eye contact with the other wolf. He didn’t look particularly upset, but you could tell by the scent of tears in him that he’d cried that day at some point. “Oh, sorry. I can move if you’re using the table.” The gray wolf said, hopping down from his seat and folding the magazine beneath his arm. He almost wobbled off to the living room when you called out to him. “... Hey, do you… want to make some kites with me?” It even surprised you. You might’ve let him go any other day; but when you looked at him, when you saw how lonely he looked, you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault. The stench of death lingered in the room, yet you both continued to ignore it. You needed to do… anything. Anything that might help…. Lobo stared at you, his pale lavender eyes met yours. “N-nevermind….” You said, looking away, cheeks flushed. “It was stupid to-” “Okay.” Lobo’s voice broke you out of that negative spiral. He waddled back to the chair and sat down, motioning to you to do the same rather than standing there like a fool. “Mind you, I don’t know anything about sewing, so you’ll have to teach me.” He said, looking over all the colorful pieces of cloth. You couldn’t help but smile a bit. I guess, in some way, you honored her memory that day after all.

You started slowly, teaching him a few basic stitching techniques. He was quick on the uptake, though he pricked himself a few times while practicing on some worn down cloth you were not using. Once he was confident in his abilities, you cracked open the book and browsed the designs together. You liked the basic diamond kite, and he chose a fancier bird wing kite. Slowly and silently you took turns looking at your respective instructions, working on each side of the table. It was a little uncomfortable, but you were glad Lobo was not visibly upset at least. Hopefully working on something distracted him from his sorrow. Out of the three of you, Lobo had been the only one awake and present during your Mother’s murder, meaning he’d been the one to wake you and Viola up the night you had to flee your camp. You could still remember the wild fear in his eyes, like a cornered animal about to fight or flee. There was not much time to explain and you didn’t get the full jist of what happened until you were already on a boat off to a foreign land. An old merchant who was a family friend stashed you away between boxes of melted mushroom and dewkissed herba. That was the last time the topic of your mother was ever breached.

You were done with your kite pretty quickly; a diamond shaped cloth made from different patches, hung on two sticks that kept it tight, all tied together with string. You could not ask for a more traditional kite than this. Lobo was having some trouble with the hem of his own kite, however. “... it won’t stay put.” He said as the bent stick escaped from under the cloth. Your brother’s ears pivoted in irritation. “Here, hold it while I sew it together.” You offered. Lobo held the stick while you carefully threaded your needle through the folded cloth with a whip stitch. His eyes followed each move of your fingers with rapt attention. “You’re very good at that.” He said once you were done tying the end of it. “Ah, it’s nothing….” You said. It’s pretty embarrassing having people see you sew like that. It’s usually something old maidens do, hence why you still keep your cross stitches secret to this day. But Lobo seemed impressed enough. He looked away for a moment, a dark look crossing his eyes. “... I think she would be proud….” He says, his voice not betraying any emotion. Your eyes opened wide and something like a squeak left your throat. You regretted it as soon as you saw him wince at your reaction, as if in pain.

“... sorry… didn’t mean to bring that up now. Just… forget it….” Your brother said, attempting to go back to his kite making. You were not about to let it go, though. “I… thank you… I like to think she would be proud too….” There’s so much more you’d have liked to say. So much you still haven’t said to this day. But it's a start. Lobo stared once more, but this time there was something else there. He looked… happy. “She would.” Your brother restated, returning to his work. There’s so much you didn’t understand, but you think that for a moment you understood how your brother felt. At least a little.

At some point, Dahlia joined in and was happy to make kites alongside you. Despite her seeming nonchalant-ness, you think she wanted a distraction too. The three of you talked about everything going on in each other’s lives, though the topic of your mother did not return. Dahlia would be attending as an apprentice in the academy soon and receive some training in pyromancy, you would continue to work here as a servant, though you expressed interest in joining the military once you came of age and Lobo… well he had been receiving lessons from the doctor in hopes of becoming his assistant. He’d always had a knack for making medicine and at least that would give him options for the future. You got into a small tiff with Dahlia discussing the aerodynamics of a box kite, though it was mostly just for fun. Once every kite was ready, you took them out into the field.

The evening air was fresh on your fur, and it picked up the kites easily. Yours flew up in an instant, catching the midsummer sun in the colorful strips of fabric. Dahlia’s box kite flew steady and strong, having used so many of the sticks how could it not. Lobo’s kite looked free in the wind, a colorful tail and beautiful long wings. You ran around making your kites chase each other across the azure skies, though of course not so fast Lobo couldn’t catch up. It was… nice. Maybe you were a little presumptuous, but you think everyone felt happier for spending the afternoon like this. You certainly did. Later, you would sit in the field and watch the clouds roll by. Mrs. Carrera came over at some point to offer you some tea. Dahlia hurried to the kitchen at the prospect of tea and freshly baked cookies, you stayed behind with Lobo for a moment. “Valerio… um. Briar?” He said as you were brushing the grass and dirt from your pants. “Yeah?” You responded. Lobo smiled, happier than you’ve seen him in a long time. “Thanks… I had fun today.” He said. You couldn’t help but smile right back.

—------------------

You were 15 when you joined the military.

You were 17 when Dr. Márkov died, leaving that villa to the three of you in his will.

You were 18 when Lobo was rejected from becoming a legitimate physician over being “un perro lisiado”.

You were 22 when you would chase after your brother to the Lands Between.

You are 23 years old, wandering up to Ranni’s Rise alongside Aster and Viola. You still don’t talk about your mother much, though at least now there’s been some discussion of it. After your brother disappeared, you assumed the worst and guessed that your father might have found him and tried to take the Fingerslayer Blade by force. You’re ashamed to admit that you thought your brother was defenseless against him. Who would have thought the one to kill would be him? And it all started when that black sword arrived by mail. Inheritance to be bestowed upon the legitimate heirs. You should’ve known it was something shady. Either way, you were glad to find him, even if it made it clear you needed to talk about things. There’s the distinct sting of betrayal in knowing your brother didn’t trust you with this darkness that brewed for years, and you still feel like it’s your fault. There’s things you need to say, the only question is when.

Aster taps the stonework floor with his sword, a new one made to compensate for the weight of his new arm, revealing the path down to a secret basement. Iji, the old troll you found on the road to the manor, said he would rather have us take whatever we can find of use there than to let it rot. You don’t really understand why he was being so friendly towards you, but Aster assured you he was no threat. Whatever, even if he were to be a threat, you’d kick his ass anyway.

Father’s room is a little strange, not that you expected him to be a slob or anything, but you find his room to be surprisingly cozy. A big bed, antiquated, but so is everything in this country, a sturdy desk with well cared for books, a tiny silver music box made for hands far smaller than yours, a chimney though no one has cleaned it in a long time and a training dummy. Frankly, you’re a little disappointed there’s nothing more interesting. Viola stayed up investigating the witch's quarters, meanwhile Aster is more interested in seeing how he could get the desk out of the room. You’re about to leave when something catches your eye. Fabric peeking from within the wardrobe, a little splash of color among the muted colors of the bedroom. You open it, immediately bringing your hands up to your mouth as you gasp loudly. Inside, beside some noble looking clothing that absolutely reeks of wolf, is a half finished patchwork blanket.

You try your hardest, you really do, but you can’t stop the tears. You pick up the blanket and sit on the bed. It creaks under your weight. You stare at each patch, remembering the ones you picked, and the ones she did. You trace a finger over each seam, careful not to snatch your claws on the threads. You see as your tears hit the fabric, darkening it in little spots. The thing is still unfinished, but you bring it close to your chest and close your eyes. You try to get your breathing under control, but you can’t do it. It’s like the dam has burst and there’s no stopping the flow of emotion that washes over you. You’re vaguely aware of Aster approaching. The bed creaks again under his added weight. He doesn’t make fun of you for crying, but he also doesn’t say anything. You’re about to open your eyes and try to pretend to be fine, but then he puts an arm around your shoulder. You don’t really understand why, but you feel like you finally know what you’ve wanted to say for a while.

“... there’s never enough time… never… it’s never enough….” You stutter through, but Aster hugs you tight. He’s listening. “... I really tried to make peace with it. I-I thought I could, but… it just… it wasn’t enough time… Then….” You hesitate, but a warm hand on your back reminds you of someone else. “Then… I thought I shouldn’t say anything because… because I'd just screw things over… I-I didn’t want to be a burden… s-so I tried making myself useful instead….” You sob, your eyes are still closed, but you hear someone at the doorstep. “... I’m so sorry… Aster… Viola… I’m so sorry for ignoring this… I’m so sick of pretending I’m fine with it… I-I’m so sick of pretending there was enough time….” Viola sits by your side as well, the bedframe complains once more at the weight of three quarter wolves. You feel her head on your shoulder and her hand over yours.

The three of you sit together on the bed. They let you cry your heart out, without judgment. It’s embarrassing feeling so vulnerable, but you’re also… glad. Aster runs his hand up and down your back, Viola runs her finger over the back of your hand in a soothing motion. After what feels like an eternity, you begin to calm down. “... There’s never enough time to do the things you want….” You finally say, opening your eyes to see the unfinished quilt matted with teardrops. The trail of tears doesn’t stop, but you feel the deluge slowing down. “It never was fair… I think even Father would have agreed.” Aster says. You look over at the gray wolf to your left, but he’s looking ahead into the space between the bricks of the cellar wall. “... I made a mistake believing I should get revenge. Maybe… maybe if I’d been more willing to let it go and see how you were hurting. Then I could have done things differently… maybe Father would be here to apologize and make things right ....” He shakes his head, returning the eye contact. “I’m sorry… I was so stuck in my own head, I couldn’t see how you were hurting too.”

To your right, you hear Viola speak as well. “I have to apologize too. After Mother died, I felt I needed to keep you both safe. To make sure you’re never in need, and I thought I could achieve that by studying hard and climbing to the top… I guess I never considered that what you needed was not a provider… but a sister….” Viola extends her hand to touch the one behind you as well. “It goes for you too, Aster. I knew our mother’s death affected you greatly, but… I’ll admit that I was at a complete loss… so I didn’t say anything. I’m sorry if you felt I forgot about Mother and the things she did for us. I was just… afraid….” You notice that a bit of her makeup has run down her cheek. It seems the three of you had the same idea, albeit expressed differently. You let out a sad chuckle. “I… I’ll forgive the both of you… If you promise to forgive each other.” Aster and Viola pull you into a hug from either side. It’s a deal.

The blanket becomes the center of attention once you pull away. “It really is a shame that it’s unfinished….” Aster says, looking at the space where future squares might be placed. “Although, we do have some fine fabric here… albeit its scent is a bit… uh… ripe.” Viola exclaims, looking over your father’s old clothes. Aster pipes in after her. “I do have some thread I found in the desk, and scissors. Could be useful….” You look down at the unfinished blanket. “... are we finishing it now, then?” You say, reading into the clear intent of their words. “A fetching idea I would say.” “Yeah, obviously we are.” Both say in unison.

You spend the rest of the afternoon finishing up the final squares of the blanket. You scold Aster a few times since he keeps stitching it up like you would a corpse, when you specifically told him to use the blanket stitch. Viola takes to chopping up parts of the old clothes into squares. Luckily they’re not moldy, but some of them do have holes from years of use. You take the leftover fabric home, though the light… uh… pheromone smell might not leave…ever. You don’t really know what you’ll use it for, but it seems wasteful to toss them just for that. All in all you have a lot of fun. The blanket is completed, a story that took 15 years to write, now ended with a chapter penned by all three of you. The corpse in the room has been buried and the flowers planted in its grave. You take out your little dreamcatcher, you’ve patched it up so many times and yet it still carries the same feelings it did so long ago. For once, you feel like you can look at it without sadness or guilt, but with hope.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Mercurius Trismagistus (A Starry Night tale)

Happy UC anniversary everybody! Here's a little fic to celebrate the occasion. I hope you all enjoy. Special Thanks to Oski Farouche for making this year so special.

You don’t really get the new arrival to your camp. Big and brooding looking with that nasty scar over his eye, but fairly shy and not particularly brilliant. Aster seems to stick to his side like gum, which is strange considering he was the one who got snatched by this man in the first place. The gray pup always seemed to you like the one with the most sense, at least out of your two brothers, yet you couldn’t make heads or tails out of his behavior. Was there something about this man you weren’t seeing? To you he seems just as dirty as any other wanderer of the Lands Between. Like he hasn’t seen a bath in years and he took a nasty fall face first down a cliff. His armor seems… fancy at least, though you couldn’t imagine royalty taking such poor care of his appearance. About a week ago he began slowly wandering out of his tent more and more to sit by the campfire. His towering body and familiar shade of gray fur makes you think of an oversized version of Aster. He’s got the decency to greet you and Briar at least, but the brown pup merely wandered away, distrustful of the strange man. Finally something you can agree on.

Aster came by shortly after and sat next to him, pulling out a deck of playing cards. Mum went to check on her traps, so it’s just the three of you. You try to ignore the sound of cards being shuffled as you get back to your book, carefully going over each letter, sounding them out in your head. According to Uncle Rogier, you might be able to read some big girl books soon if you keep practicing. You hope that’s the case, there’s only so many times you can read about this red riding hood girl before getting bored. The wolf always loses and the girl always wins. Maybe in some versions the wolf should eat the girl? It would at least be something different. “In this game, both sides play a card in our hands and the card of the highest value wins. We have four standard suits: Cups, Swords, Wands and Coins, numbered one through ten, then four high ranking cards per each suit: The king, queen, knight and jack.” You hear your brother explain to the man. “Then there’s the major arcana, those are 22 cards, going from The Magician to The World, plus The Fool which is used as a wildcard and duplicates one of the cards used for summoning in your hand.” Aster is describing a game Uncle Rogier taught him how to play called Dominion. You’ve played a couple of times, but Aster has taken to the game far more than you or Briar.

“At the beginning of your turn you draw 5 cards. The objective is to be able to play the biggest possible card to win against mine. For example, say you want to play the King of Swords. That card is worth 14 points, meaning you’d need at most three cards to sum up 14 exactly to play it. The only exceptions are the one and two of every suit which can be played for free. In the case of Major Arcana, at most two cards are needed, but they trump any minor arcana.” The smaller wolf continues his explanation, seemingly unaware of how loud he’s being to anyone trying to read. The larger wolf seems mesme-... mes-... umm, really interested in it, his ears are pointed forward and he nods along as your brother flips over cards and shows them to him. “You can also choose to discard up to 3 of your cards and draw new ones, but only once per hand. Also if all the cards in play have the same suit, then you have a bonus equal to the amount of cards of that suit, of which you can add to your total if you need it. Did you get all that?” The scarred wolf nods, staring at the cards intently. “I think I do. I’ll probably learn better once we get to playing.” Aster smiles at the man, who’s tail you can see wagging in turn.

You hear the cards being shuffled and it becomes clear that you won't get any more reading done by sitting here. You’re about to get up and look for somewhere quieter when Aster calls out to you. “Oh, Viola. Would you like to come play cards with us? We’re just starting.” Both pairs of eyes, lavender and periwinkle, stare at you. Aster really looks like he wants you to join, but the older wolf seems a bit shy. “Oh! Umm….” You're caught off guard. Reading has been kinda boring so far, so maybe playing cards would be better, though you’re still a little doubtful about the other player. “O-Okay… but just a couple of rounds.” You say, trying to sound uninterested and mysterious. Aster giggles, happy to have another player. “Okay, yay!” You sit between the two, picking up your freshly dealt cards. “First to 3 wins then.” Aster says, picking up his own.

In your hand you have: The ace of swords, The 3 of coins, The queen of coins, The Empress (3) and Judgment (20). A pretty good hand. As of now you can play The Empress with the cards on your hand (if you counted correctly, which you’re pretty sure you did). You discard your ace, and draw a new card. A 6 of swords. Lame. You set your Empress down along with her two sacrifices and look at the other players over. The larger wolf and the smaller one both seem to tilt their ears as they think, pivoting them in every direction as if to catch the thoughts in the wind. It seems to be a shared tic between the two. According to mum, this man; Blaidd; is your father, but you think she’s probably mistaken. He’s so rough looking and your mother is not much better, so then how did you happen? Briar you can believe and Aster at least shares his fur color, but in your case it must be a mistake. Maybe you were switched up at birth? The man places his cards down, then Aster does the same. “Now… Showdown!” You flip the cards as soon as your brother says those words. In Aster’s hand, he played Justice (8) by sacrificing an 8 of wands and in Blaidd’s hand, he played The Chariot (7) by sacrificing the 2 of cups and the 3 of cups. “Oh, I won!” Aster says after carefully counting each hand with his fingers, taking the played cards aside and shuffling the rest into the deck again. You pout at the loss, but then stop yourself. It’s unladylike to be a sore loser.

“Did you get how it’s played, dad?” Aster asks, and you do a double take. He’s calling him dad?! “I think I do, thank you.” Blaidd says, shuffling the deck and handing you your cards. You try not to overthink it, but maybe there is something to him if Aster is calling him dad already. He makes brief eye contact with you and you feel like he wants to say something, but he retreats back behind his cards. You tilt your head. Maybe it would be easier if you were the one to approach him, but for now you’ll concentrate on the game.

This round you have: A 4 of cups, a 7 of swords, an 8 of swords, The Hierophant (5) and The Hanged Man (12). You can play the Hanged Man as is, so you discard the 4 and 8 and draw two new cards. The Fool (0) and a 2 of cups. You place your Hanged Man along with The Hierophant and the 7 down. You turn to look at the other two players again. Aster is busy thinking of his next play, squinting at the cards as he sticks his tongue out the side of his mouth. He’s pretty deep in thought. Blaidd had already put his cards down however. The silence between you is awkward, he keeps occasionally glancing your way, before looking away. It would be unladylike of you to not break the ice, wouldn’t it? “Umm… you’re Blaidd, right? I’m sorry for not introducing myself properly, but my name is Viola.” You say, trying to put him at ease. Blaidd’s eyes land back on you, his ears prick up. “Oh yes, that’s… I’m Blaidd. I didn’t… I didn’t think you wanted to chat, so I didn’t say anything before. It’s nice to meet you.” It’s an awkward introduction, but you think he’s relieved that you’re not giving him the silent treatment. For all his brutishness, there’s something very polite about him too. He’s definitely very interesting.

This time you have: The 6 of swords, the 6 of cups, The Magician (1), The Lovers(6) and Temperance (14). You discard your Magician for a different card, the 7 of cups. With this you play Temperance along with your 6 of cups. To your right Aster is trading some cards in his hand. Blaidd is done already too. Maybe this would be a good chance to ask something you’ve been wondering about for a while. “Why did you take Aster away?” You ask, only to receive a sputtering reaction from the larger wolf. Grown ups are so silly sometimes. Aster stops his counting to answer the question for the incapacitated wolf. “We went to slay a pair of fingers past a long cave. I think they needed a special bone knife to do it, so the blue lady asked dad to take me there.” You suppose that makes sense, only there’s something still bothering you. ”Umm, but then why didn’t mum come along? You know we’re not allowed to talk to strangers or go anywhere without telling her.” You ask, Aster furrows his brow. “Because mum and dad were still fighting, and dad was just doing what the blue lady told him to.” Blaidd, who had regained his composure at this point, spoke up. “It’s… It’s complicated.” He said, drawing your and your brother’s attention. “It wasn’t right of me to take Aster away without permission. Your mother and I were not on the best of terms until recently… even now there’s some stuff we haven’t talked about. At the time I thought I was doing the right thing….” His eyes look downcast, the remorse is clear on his face. “Now I’ve come to realize I made a mistake… lots of mistakes….” He stares at you, a quiet look of determination in his eyes. “That’s what I’m hoping to correct… not being here, hurting people I love… all of those things, I want to make them right.” He offers you a kind smile, and for a moment you see the noble heart your mother talked about. “Hopefully you’ll allow me to make amends with you too….” You stare into his eyes, the striking Lavender color is the same as yours. “I guess adults make mistakes too….” You say, more to yourself than him. “Fine… If you’re making it up to me, you can start by telling me more about yourself.” He smiles, it’s a little contagious because you’re inclined to smile too.

“Now… Showdown!” Aster says. Blaidd played The Tower (16) with the king of coins and The High Priestess (2), Your brother played Strength (11) with a 10 of swords and an ace of cups. Blaidd helps Aster count the cards once it’s clear he doesn’t have enough fingers to sum them up. “Yay! You won!” Aster says, to which Blaidd nods. While he rounds up the cards in silence, you can tell he’s happy. It’s your turn to be the dealer. “Mum said we can go fishing later, I can show you my favorite pond.” Aster says to the larger wolf. You’re only half listening as you’re trying not to mess up your counting. “Ah… do you really want to go out today? Is your mother okay with you going out so late?” Blaidd responds, suddenly sounding uncomfortable. You remember that Aster was taken late at night, he went to the pond that time too. “She’s been fussing over me so much.” Aster pouts. “I’m safe now, I’m not a baby….” Blaidd shakes his head, and you have to agree. Mum is pretty well justified in being worried.

The game continues, now with more lively conversation amongst the three of you. Blaidd tells you of his life so far, how he’s a shadow born into a noble family (You KNEW you had to be secretly a princess.), how he had been at the service of Ranni the witch until recently, how he was now planning on helping your mother become Elden Lord, eventually all the Major arcana were played and the game ended with Blaidd as the victor. Briar approached, hoping to join in for the next round upon seeing how friendly everyone was being.

In secret later Aster would confess to you that he’d been cheating to make the game last longer, hoping you and Blaidd would talk. While you’re impressed by his ingenuity, you have to wonder how he did it without being able to count.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Post AoIS follow-up fic masterpost.

Im putting all the fics in the intended read order so it doesn't get confusing for anyone coming from the Tumblr side.

Icebound Return Saga

Nemesis (an icebound return)

Persephone and Hades (an Icebound slighter return)

Hestia (a mini Icebound return)

Aegis (A most Icebound slight return)

Orion and the Pleiades (The Icebound slightest return)

Hypnos (A slightly chill Icebound return)

Adonis (A middling Icebound return)

Sisyphus and Tantalus (A sickly Icebound Return)

Olympus (A rematched Icebound Return)

Hephaestus (A gossipy Icebound Return)

Uranos and Nyx (A cosmic Icebound Return)

Delphi (A prophetic Icebound Return)

Thanatos (The final Icebound return)

From here the story splits into two branches depending on the outcome of Thanatos.

Champion of embers branch

Pollux (a Champion of Embers beginning)

Ariadne and Asterius (A Champion of Embers continuation)

Heracles and Prometheus (A Champion of Embers Finale)

Hyperion (a Champion of Embers epilogue)

Themis and Mnemosyne (a Champion of Embers Sequel-Prequel thing)

Maiden of the stars branch

Castor (a Maiden of the Stars beginning)

Apollo and Artemis (A Maiden of the Stars continuation)

Orpheus and Eurydice (A Maiden of the Stars Finale)

Erebus (a Maiden of the Stars Epilogue)

Starry Night saga

The starry night saga is an independant branch where nobody has to die (Yay!)

Iulius and Augustus (A Starry Night Story)

Pax Romana (a Starry Night new beginning)

Virgil and Beatrice (A Starry Night Epilogue)

Mercurius Trismagistus (A Starry Night tale)

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Virgil and Beatrice (A Starry Night Epilogue)

CW: Mentions of farting (idk if this needs a cw but I'm being safe) and anything related to AoIS and what happened earlier.

So this is just a funky epilogue I wrote to tie some stuff over. It's not requiered reading or anything, but I hope all of you enjoy :3.

----------------------

You spend a lot of time sleeping while in her camp. Your neck injury has been getting better, but there’s only so much her incantations can do. You can’t get up from your sickbed just yet, much less get out of the makeshift tent that was made for you, but you’re well enough that you can speak and sit up without wincing in pain. It’s been only three days, but you’ve been making remarkable progress. She comes over twice every day and keeps you company. This time she brings you your plain gruel and talks to you about anything really. She’s always been the chatty type, a bell on every tooth, but you don’t mind it. You’ve always been more of a listener anyway. It almost makes your gruel have some flavor, other than the iron taste of blood that lingers in your mouth, that is. “I’m sorry, but you can’t eat any solids still, not until I can make sure your neck won’t open up again.” She says upon seeing your dismayed expression. “At least I tried to make it as rich as possible. There’s nothing worse than watery gruel.” You sigh, looking at the beige colored paste on your plate. “I’m grateful, it’s just that the flavor leaves much to be desired.” You bring a spoonful to your mouth, swallowing the gruel carefully. “Yeah….” She says, looking at you as you eat away at your plate. “Well, look on the bright side. At least you’re getting a lot of fiber in your diet, I bet you haven’t been this regular in years.” You roll your eyes at the comment and continue eating despite the crass nature of her chosen topic.

She stares, but then a smile slowly creeps onto her lips. Oh no. “Well… I guess I don’t actually have to guess that your bowel movements are fine.” She says, trying not to laugh as you put your spoon down and look at her as deadpan as you can. Do you want to know? Probably not, but if you don’t ask it’s just going to be this weird inside joke, except she’s the only one in on it. You sigh. “... And how do you know that?” It’s better to get it over quickly, you tell yourself, but you feel instant regret the moment her barely contained laughter turns to a mocking smile. “Well… You probably haven’t noticed, but during the nights sometimes I’m woken up by a rather loud noise. I just couldn’t figure out what it was.” She says, setting up whatever wicked punchline you’re about to be the butt of. ”It took me a few nights of investigating before I discovered that… someone kept farting in their sleep!” She fully breaks into laughter after that. You feel your cheeks redden as shame washes over you like cold water. “W-what?! I don’t-” You’re about to defend yourself, but suddenly you’re reminded of something. The other day… you asked her if she’d seen any skunks or honey badgers around the camp. You remember smelling something foul as you woke up. She was barely containing her laughter then too! You cover your face with your hands as you groan. Maybe it’s not too late to die for real. “Hehe… Luckily the kids are pretty heavy sleepers, so don’t worry. ” She tries to comfort you, but it’s failing. Hard. She brings a hand to your chin and pets you beneath it. It feels… nice. Though you’re still very embarrassed. “... S-sorry.” You manage to say. “It's okay. I’m just glad you’re getting better, even if the process might not be pleasant.” She moves to pet behind your ears and you bring your hands to your lap. She hasn’t lost her touch after all these years.

You stay like that, eyes closed and mouth on the verge of panting, for a while until she pulls her hand away. Her touch immediately is sorely missing. “Now eat up. Flatulence or not, you’re not getting any better if you don’t keep your body nurtured.” She says, smiling at you kindly. You sigh and look down at your porridge. “Right… the gruel that makes me fart like a sheepdog on a short chain.” You pick up your spoon and continue eating with some trepidation. She shrinks her shoulders. “If it bothers you too much, I could always plug you up at night. I’m sure I have that toy in storage somewhere.” The gruel flies from your mouth as you sputter. This woman will be the death of you.

After lunch is done, she turns to cleaning your wounds. Slowly and gingerly she removes the bandages around your neck, then she applies antiseptic directly into the closing wound using some clean cotton. You can’t suppress the whine that escapes you as the chemicals sting in your skin. "Sorry. I know it stings, but that means it's working." She tries to comfort you as you try not to wince. “With this, your body should be able to continue healing even without incantations.” She pulls out new bandages and wraps them around your neck. Tossing the old bloodied linen away. “I’m just glad to be alive at all. If I died then….” You reach out for her hand, and she places it in your palm. So soft and so small compared to yours. “I would have never been able to tell you how I felt. I don’t think I could have taken such regrets to my grave.” You look into her eyes, and she smiles. Her other hand reaches up to pet behind your ears. “I’m glad you’re alive too.” She says, making your tail wag.

"Rogier's outside watching the kids if you need anything," she says as she's leaving. "I'll go check up on Iji. Hopefully, he's managed to dodge the assassins until now. It shouldn't take more than an afternoon." She leans down and kisses your forehead. "Try to sleep, okay? Recovering uses up a lot of energy." You nod. "Thank you. I think I can rest easy knowing Iji has you backing him up. Just come back in one piece, eh?" She smiles and ruffles the fur on your head before leaving. Once you are alone, you lean back and begin dreaming. For once, your dreams feel peaceful.

—------------------

The wolf’s bane and the violet they bloomed long ago  

And the brier-rose and the tulips danced amid summer glow; 

On the hill the sword-flower and the aster in the wood

And the snowdrop by the brook in autumn beauty stood  

Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven as falls the plague on men 

but the brightness of their smile was not robbed from upland glade and glen

—------------------

You wake up sometime later. It’s hard to tell what time it is inside the tent, but you can guess the sun might set soon. There’s a slight weight over your chest, something light enough that you could still sit up if you wanted without much trouble, but something that’s breathing softly on your chest. You look down to find a familiar gray pup sleeping on top of you. Aster’s leaning forward while his legs are still kneeled by the side of your bed, his arms are folded beneath his head as a makeshift pillow. You have to wonder why he’s here. Isn’t Rogier supposed to be watching over them? Though you’re glad to see that he’s okay even after all that happened in the Moonlight Altar. Physically at least… You can only hope Aster wasn’t scarred by almost watching you die in front of him. The fact that his mother has been your only company these last few days made you afraid that maybe he didn’t want to see you. Well, he’s here now, so that can’t be.

You feel Aster stir. He opens his little mouth wide open with a yawn, complete with that signature whine. “Hello Aster. It’s been a while.” You say to the boy who smiles as he makes eye contact with those irises of faded lavender. “Dad!” He hugs you, careful around your neck. You put your hand on his back and return the hug as best as you can. “Mum said that you were getting better, but that you’ll need to rest some more before I can show you around our camp.” He says, his little tail wagging into a blur. “I would like that, thank you.” You respond. Aster hugs you for a moment longer, then returns to a sitting position by your side. 

His eyes linger on the bandages around your neck, then he looks away, wringing his hands together. The mood takes a hard dip into something more serious. Oh no, have you upset him? “Aster…? Is something wrong?” You ask, sitting up. Aster looks around the tent. He hesitates before speaking. “Umm… I’m sorry you got hurt because of me….” His little eyes meet with yours, they’re filled with honest remorse. “I should’ve paid more attention… Maybe then you wouldn’t have almost….” He trails off as he begins to sob, bringing his hands up to wipe the tears, but they can’t stop the deluge. You pull him closer and he cries into your chest. “It’s not your fault, Aster. I was responsible for your safety… I… I don’t mind getting hurt to protect you.” You try to console him, but he shakes his head. “But I don’t want you to! I *hic* I just want you to be okay….” He says between sobs. You’re not doing a good job at consoling him, are you? Maybe it’s time you stop thinking like a self-sacrificing shadow, and start thinking like a father. You let Aster cry until he’s calmed down, rubbing your hand gently on his back while he lets it all out. The boy sobs, unloading all the worry you’ve put him through since you were at the altar.

Once he calms down, you lean down as far as you can without straining your wounds and kiss him on the forehead. “I’m sorry I worried you so much, Aster. I promise….” You stop. It’s a big promise to make, but you’re shadowbound no longer, so you’ll have to get used to making them on your own now. “I promise I’ll be more careful from now on, is that okay?” The boy looks up at you, his eyes red and his cheeks stained with tears. You wipe them away with your thumb. “I’ll never regret protecting you, but… I also don’t want to scare you like this again.” You say. The pup leans into your hand as you pet him behind the ears. “... Okay… then I’ll be careful too….” Aster says. He’s still a little upset, but he seems better.

You stay with Aster a little longer. A little bit of his previous cheerfulness returns as he talks to you about the camp, his siblings, his mother and uncle Rogier. Just like his mother, he seems to be the chatty type. He talks to you about all the fun things he likes to do with his siblings, mentioning how going fishing to the creek is his favorite thing to do, you mention that you’ve never gone fishing before and he offers to teach you. “Fishing in Liurnia is really fun, but….” He trails off, hesitating to speak once more. Oh no, did something happen again? Before you can ask what’s wrong, he answers for you. “Are you… staying forever now?” He looks at you, his expression is a little hard to read, but he seems… hopeful. You look at the entrance of the tent. She offered you a place to stay, and you agreed, didn’t you? You want to stay forever, but… Truth be told, there is still a part of you that feels like this is more than what you deserve. A part of you that wants to continue running away. All this time it’s been you who’s the problem. You’re the one everyone had to work around. You’re the one who’s nature put everyone in danger.You don’t feel like you’re worthy of… this. And yet you look at Aster, his hopeful eyes tinted a soft shade of periwinkle. Another oath to keep, another promise you’re making on your own. You may not be worth them right now, but… “I’ll stay… forever.” You answer. He smiles and his little tail wags itself into a blur. If you’re not worthy of them now, you’ll just have to become worthy of them. It’s your new oath, you decide. This is your new fate.

—------------------

You approach the Three Sisters once more, the evening breeze blows through the now empty towers. Their owner has departed and their purpose now is to crumble. Were it up to you, you would never set foot here again. But Iji came this way, having discarded his spot by the entrance in an attempt to flee from his pursuers. The large troll footprints make it impossible to conclude otherwise. It’s likely the Black Knife Assassins approached him fairly recently if the prints’ freshness is anything to go by, it happened just this morning at the latest. So you return, but not without caution. All the assassins you’ve found have been dead, their bodies having crumbled to ash leaving nothing but their gear. Iji might’ve dealt with them on his own, but based on the shape of the notches left on the armor, it’s likely that whoever did them in did so with a sword. Wouldn’t Iji use his hammer? Furthermore, all of them had similar marks, meaning all of them were killed by the same person. That’s pretty insane considering it’s a twenty-four versus one match where the one side was victorious. That’s why if there’s someone even more dangerous than the assassins, you need to be careful not to catch their attention.

“I can’t thank you enough for what you did….” You hear Iji’s voice somewhere nearby, you almost call out in response when you hear it again. “Yes… neither Blaidd, Lady Ranni nor the tarnished noticed your presence. Though I have to wonder why it would be problematic if any of them saw you.” It’s coming from the left. You wander over to Seluvis’ Rise, Iji is standing by the front of the tower, talking with someone on the top floor. You can’t see them from here, but it doesn’t look like it’s the unpleasant Preceptor. He would never be seen without his hat. “I see… Well, I’m grateful you took care of Astel and the assassins. I’m not sure Blaidd would have been able to while protecting the little one….” Astel? Was that the name of the thing you found past the Lake of Rot? And was the person in the tower responsible for killing the assassins too? You almost go over and call Iji’s attention, but you remember what was said earlier. This person was kept secret from everyone, even Ranni herself. If you go over right now, it might cause them to flee. You decide to hide amongst the foliage and listen. Perhaps it’s just morbid curiosity, but if something is being kept secret from you, you want to find out what.

Iji stays quiet. Listening to the person at the top. If only you were closer, you might be able to hear their voice. You creep towards the tower slowly so as to not alert either party. “Blaidd and the tarnished have returned to her camp, but I hear he’s recovering well. Lady Ranni did not wait to bid him farewell, but I shall tell him she did if he ever asks. It’s the least I can do to spare his feelings….” Iji says to the entity. From here you can almost make out a whispery voice. You strain your ears to make out what they’re saying. “... he’s always been so loyal to her, and yet she can’t even say goodbye properly? Here I thought nobles were supposed to have manners.” The voice, a man’s, says. Iji shakes his head. Then lifts his gaze up to the skies, the stars have started to appear and the moon is almost full. “I’m afraid Lady Ranni and Blaidd will never get a chance to truly reconcile. The shadowbound cannot be equal to their masters by design… Blaidd could never forgive her on his own terms for her failings.” The figure stays quiet, the evening breeze rustles the leaves off the trees. “... Maybe it’s better this way… I hope you’ll continue to watch over him after I’m gone. It’s unlikely that I’ll be returning….” The man says and there’s a certain sadness in his voice. Iji nods. “Of course. Blaidd may be boorish, blunt and unable to locate his nose with both hands, but he’s a good egg. I would be remiss if I didn’t make sure he acclimated to his new life as a free man.” You can’t be sure from here, but you almost make out the silhouette of the man at the top from here. A sharp, wolven profile comes into view in the dwindling light. Another half-wolf?! You audibly gasp and then immediately cover your mouth with both hands. Iji and the man in the tower take notice, and look around for the source of the noise. Iji looks behind him, trying to spot any interlopers, but the man at the top stares down directly into the bushes where you’re hidden. He steps out closer to the edge and you make out his suit of armor. Thin brass plate, intricately adorned and lovingly crafted, covered by a red shawl that extends up to the hands. His face is still hidden in shadow, but his eyes shine in the growing moonlight. An icy blue one and a faded lavender one. They stare directly at you and you can’t help but hold onto his gaze. The moment extends infinitely long as though a single second could last years. You almost give in and announce your presence when the man breaks away from visual contact. “... It was nothing… Probably some stray critter.” He says, clearly ignoring your presence. There’s no way he didn’t see you. “I should get going anyway… Stay safe, Iji.” The troll nods, deciding to ignore the noise as well. “Very well… With this I mark that you have upheld the ancient concord that binds our worlds together. Though it was a coincidence that joined us, it was comradery that led us to victory.” Iji recites what seems to be some sort of chant or sacred oath. From the tower you feel the soft glow of Grace. “With this I bid you farewell… Lobo of Medía.” With those final words, the man was returned to his world in fading light. So he was a summon from another world? You’ve heard of other tarnished summoning allies from adjacent realities, but you never gave it much thought. What do these other realities look like? Are they different from the Lands Between or are they all the same?

“It is rude to eavesdrop on conversations, tarnished.” Iji says, breaking you out of your interdimensional reveries. Fuck. You stand up from your crouched position, feeling a little embarrassed at being caught. “Sorry, but you can’t expect me to not be curious if you talk about me.” You say, causing Iji to shake his head in disbelief. “Good grief….” The old War Counselor sighs. You turn to look at the tower. From where you’re standing you can tell there’s no one inside. “Who was that?” You ask the troll. “That… was a collaborator from another world. Usually only the tarnished can summon such allies, but I have my own methods….” Iji explains. You nod, crossing your arms. “I figured that much out, but who was he? He seemed to know a lot about Blaidd and Ranni….” Iji shakes his head. “As I explained, he was just an ally from another world. Whatever his reasons are for helping are not for me to say ....” Iji remains stubborn about saying nothing. It doesn’t seem like you’re getting any more out of the troll.

“Huh… well whatever. I came to check up on you. I’m glad to find you’re safe.” You change the topic, trying to get the image of those eyes peering at you out of your head. Iji looks down at you from beneath his mirrored helm. From here you can truly appreciate how tall he is. “Thank you so much for your concern. I’m fine, the assassins are gone and I shall depart from this place soon.” His voice remains as calm as ever, despite the circumstances. “Hopefully we shall meet again soon. I doubt you’d refuse the services of a good smithing hand.” He seems happy. Maybe ushering the Age of Stars in has put him in a good mood. “You bet. I’m sure Blaidd will be happy to see you too.”

You accompany Iji out of the manor, but the strange circumstances on the tower stick with you. Maybe you were just imagining it, but you felt like maybe that half-wolf’s eyes looked familiar.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Pax Romana (a Starry Night new beginning)

Here's the second part of the Starry Night duology. I might return to this universe at some point, but for now it's the end. Thank you once again to everyone who's read this part and given it a chance.

CW: Blood, Neck injury, Major Character Death (>:3c) and anything AoIS related.

-------------

The path to the Two Fingers is quite treacherous. Going down through Nokstella was fairly simple. On your way you mostly told Aster to hide while you dealt with any attackers you found. Giant Ants, Silver Tears, and even some of the remaining Nox. All felled by you with relative ease. When not in combat Aster hung close by your side, afraid of getting lost in the maze of caves and ancient ruins beneath the false sky. You eventually would reach an ominous red glow and the familiar stench of toxic mushrooms, but not before being confronted by a curious sight.

“That’s… me?” You say as you’re confronted by a wolf-headed figure. While the invader was cloaked in the usual red glow, it was still obvious to see the resemblance to you. A massive sword over his shoulder, reeking of destined death, to mirror your own covered in frost magic. A furred cloak, and more importantly a wolven head pulled into a snarl. You tell Aster to hide somewhere behind you, as you draw your blade from its scabbard. The Baleful Shadow wastes no time in approaching, slicing at you in a vertical strike. You bring your greatsword up to deflect, the impact sending sparks flying where both blades meet. Another strike, this one directionally from above, but the Baleful Shadow is too reckless. The swing misses as you fall to a crouch, then you use up your full strength to bring your blade in contact with the shadow’s arm with an upward swing. His sword falls to the side with a clang along with his arm. Before he has time to react, you bring the full weight of your sword against his neck, sending the wolven head flying into the air. A messy ending, but a victory nonetheless. “Aster, don’t come over yet!” You shout at the boy hiding behind some rocks. This is too bloody for him to see, you have to clean up before continuing.

Taking the body and moving it out of the way, you come across the head of the Baleful Shadow. Taking it into your hand, and against your better judgment, you look at the head in close detail. The shoddy gray fur, the overbite of the lower jaw, and even the scar above the eye is identical to yours. The eyes, now lifeless and empty, have a red look to their irises as opposed to your lavender ones. You wonder why there would be another one of you, or at least a replica of you attacking whoever comes close to the Fingers. You’ve always been a bit skeptical that the Two Fingers could force you to betray your mistress, and yet… Well, it’s not hard to imagine yourself in the position of this Baleful Shadow. Stripped of all will, and fighting to defend your cruel maker. The very thing she was fighting to stop. The very thing you decided to dig your heels in over, and destroy everything for. The future you were fighting so hard for, might have not been as different from the one this shadow got. Your head rolling away from your shoulders, in a dead city.

….

You take the head and reunite it with the rest of the shadow. You don’t have time to bury him, but you do make sure his eyes are closed and he’s laid to rest in a respectful way. Cleaning yourself up with a napkin, you go find Aster who’s been sitting in a fetal position behind some rocks, his little ears pivoting to and fro waiting for your signal to come out of hiding. “Alright! You can come out now!” You tell the pup, who excitedly walks up to you with his wobbling feet. None the wiser about the bloodbath that happened a moment prior. He grabs your hand with a smile. “You were gone for so long, I was starting to get worried. He must’ve been really tough, but I knew you could do it!” Aster says. You smile down at him, it’s better if he believes that. “Very. All the more reason to get going, eh?” You say, looking at the path forward. “Although, I am not entirely sure how we’re going to cross this place.”

The Lake of Rot is grotesque and grand at the same time. The rot-infested waters glow crimson like the skies of Caelid, spanning for miles in every direction. On the far shore, you spot some ruins, which you assume must be the cloister where the way up is supposed to be. It's as impressive as it is worrying that a place such as this could exist. Luckily, it's so far underground that it poses little threat to the people above. Of course with no boat or protective equipment, crossing this lake might prove even more dangerous than you thought. If only you had Torrent, The Tarnished’s spectral steed to take you across. Not that he would have let you ride him, you might’ve crushed the poor thing if you tried. Looking down at the pup taking your hand, he seems transfixed by a spot near the shore. “Do you see something, Aster?” You ask the boy, who tugs at your arm and points to the empty spot. “There’s a special spot here. I can make some preserving boluses so we can cross.” A special spot? Could that mean? “... Do you mean a Site of Grace?” You ask, curious about the fact that Aster can apparently see Grace, not unlike the Tarnished warriors that come to this land. The pup nods, tugging at your arm and leading you to a spot closer to the shore. While you don’t feel a difference, it is clear that Aster can see and interact with the items a Site of Grace grants to its users, not unlike his mother. It’s nostalgic seeing someone go through the motions of using spectral storage to get a crafting kit and materials out, much like your ex-lover used to do all those years ago. “This will only take a moment. So sit tight, okay?” The boy reassures you as he begins mashing the materials together to make the boluses.

He’s so entranced with his work that you don’t bother making small talk. Instead you stare out into the lake. An angry red color, glowing unnaturally and teeming with Scarlet Rot spores. As far as you understand it, The Lake of Rot is the source of the Scarlet Rot, held back only by the flowing waters of the adjacent rivers. Stories of a blind swordsman come to mind, a warrior that defeated the goddess of rot and forced her influence beneath the earth. Except, Malenia, sword of Miquella, seemed to have become the new source of the disease since then. Your brother, General Radahn, fought against her for control of the shards after the shattering, only for Malenia to unleash her rot, leaving Caelid in its current sorry state. Does that mean the disease can no longer be contained by the flowing waters here? Or even worse: Does that mean the Rot Goddess the blind swordsman banished so long ago has been reborn? If that’s the case then maybe the Lands Between are fated to become engulfed by the disease after all, at least they are so long as things remain broken. All the more reason to find a new Elden Lord, you suppose. Not that you made the process quicker by impregnating the most likely candidate and forcing her (like the idiot you are) to take time to care for your children while you were mad over nothing. Great going there, moron. At least now that her kids are older she’ll be able to get back to her quest. And you… you don’t like to think about your future lately. For now you only wish to concentrate on finishing this last quest. What you’ll do after… you’ll have to come up with it on the fly.

“Okay, I’m ready!” The pup waddles over, an outstanding amount of Preserving Boluses in his arms. “The Rot takes a few minutes to take effect, if you start feeling sick then take one or two of these to feel better right away.” Aster explains. He sounds like he’s repeating a set of instructions given to him. You grab one bolus, only to recoil from the intensity of the scent. They smell… potent. Even more so than regular boluses. “You really made all of these in such a short time?” You ask, and the boy nods, proud of his accomplishment. “Uh-huh. Mum taught me how to make them, but I’ve been doing this for a long time.” You pet him behind the ears and he leans into your touch. “Good job, Aster.” From here you can see his tail wag. It's adorable.

You resolve that the best way to cross is if Aster sits on your shoulders, and you take the boluses and cross. He’s too tiny and the water is too deep. Besides on top of your head he can be as far away as possible from the water until you’re safe to cross. Aside from a few basilisks hidden beneath the waves, the crossing is very peaceful. You take a bolus every minute or so and immediately feel invigorated, the overwhelming feeling of disease vanishes from your body, and you feel brand new. This medicine truly is more potent than the normal variety, perhaps you’ll ask for Aster’s recipe later, once you’re back on dry land.

—-----------------

You hear the carefree laugh of your son, bright and clear like the sun. His little eyes, a dimmed reflection of a familiar pair, stare up at you with wonderment. To a one-year-old, everything is new and exciting, so he stares up into the great unknown and smiles while putting one finger in his mouth. “Such a happy guy, huh?” You say, holding him in your arms. “So happy all the time, maybe one day you can tell me what you find so funny.” You kiss him on the forehead, causing his eyes to go cross-eyed for a moment. Of course, he finds this hilarious and starts giggling and clapping his hands in amusement. The other two are having fun playing with their toys, not really paying much attention besides the occasional look and call for you to see a drawing or resolve a squabble. You played with them some earlier, but your littlest one didn’t get his turn, so you made some time for him now.

“I’m gonna tell you a secret, okay?” You say to your puppy in a hushed tone, he tilts his little head, curious about the secret you’re about to share. “I’m always happy to see you too, Aster.” You whisper close to him, booping his little nose. You feel his little tail wag and he wraps his arms around your neck. “I love you, mummy!” He says, holding on tight to you. A sweet little bundle of fluff you wish to keep safe and happy for as long as you can. “I love you too… my sweet boy.” You brush over the fluffy fur on the back of your son’s head, only to catch something gleaming out of the corner of your eye.

Turning to the woods that surround your camp you see a small blue spark somewhere amongst the foliage. Squinting, you try to make out the details hidden in the shade of the trees. Suddenly you freeze like a deer in the headlights, caught staring into the eyes of something in the dark. One eye gleams an icy blue that makes you think of glintstone, alive with power. The other does not share this striking property, but it is a soft periwinkle that makes you think of someone familiar. For a moment you’re worried that Blaidd has found you, breaking his agreement to leave you for five years and has come to recover the Fingerslayer blade, yet there’s also something not quite fitting about the figure. It’s too… small. Blaidd towers over things at 9 feet in height, in comparison this figure seems far more human sized. It only succeeds in making the inhuman gaze creepier. You move closer to your children, who stare up at you in confusion. Even Aster stares at you with concern, turning to look in the direction of the figure and then looking back to you as if nothing was wrong. They cannot see it. You look down at the brown and white pups hugging at your legs, then back at the figure only to find it has vanished. The endless gaping mouth of the forest is left in its place.

You wake up from your restless dream, more tired than you were before. This hunt for your missing son has started to weigh on you, but you cannot turn back. Getting up from your rug, you skip breakfast and get ready to keep moving. Caria Manor is still some ways away, and Aster and his abductor have about a day of advantage on you. If you ever hope to catch up to them, you have to save as much time as you can. Mounting Torrent you ride off, but the figure in your dream still haunts you. Why was something like that inserting itself in your memories? Had your mind created a demon to haunt you even in your dreams, or was it something else? Curiously, you did not feel any malice from the creature’s glare, only curiosity. “Perhaps I’ve just lost it.” You remark to Torrent, who snorts dismissively. Well, whatever it is, you can only hope it will leave you alone after you save your son.

—-----------------

You get out of the coffin you found inside the cloister, now in a cave full of bioluminescent fungi. You’d been worried there for a moment that perhaps you’d made a mistake getting on that thing. When it started to fall you were mostly concerned for Aster’s safety, you can’t die but you have no idea if Aster is capable of dying, and that is not something you wish to ever find out. “Wow, that was kinda scary, huh? Haha….” The boy says, jumping out of the coffin and into the cave, way too nonchalant for what was most certainly a near-death experience. “S-Sure was….” You answer, not sure how to share in his enthusiasm. Whatever, you’re close to the Moonlight Altar, so you only need to push forward a little more now.

You look around the cave. Very clearly, you’re not in the Lake of Rot anymore. The rock above cannot possibly be connected to the waterfall. Besides, the water looks free of the fleshy spores, and the only fungi around seems benign. There's a small tunnel, and past it is most likely the Moonlight Altar. You take Aster’s hand, cautious of the way forward. It’s possible there are more enemies nearby. It smells like a creature lives here, but it’s not one you’ve ever encountered before. The room widens into a large empty cavern. The stalactites (or is it stalagmites?) drip from the ceiling, causing waves as they crash with the wet floor. A clear and shallow pool of water reflects all things above like a mirror. Perhaps it would be more spectacular had the view above been more dazzling.

Making your way through slowly, you eventually come across a large frozen thing in the far end. It has mandibles like a beetle, but the wings of a dragonfly, the skull of a man and the tail of a scorpion. “Defensive wounds.” Aster mutters, looking at the creature over. “Um… it died pretty quickly I think. After someone hit it with a sword….” The boy looks uncomfortable, though you’re amazed he could tell so much just by looking at this thing. “Let’s get out of here, eh?” You say, trying to lighten the mood. Aster looks up at you and smiles. “Okay!” He says. You walk past the unusual creature into a short passageway. Finally, you encounter the well exit that will lead you into the Moonlight Altar. “You ready?” You ask the boy by your side, who nods with determination. “Let’s go.” With that vote of confidence, you step into the lift, and ride up to your final destination.

—-----------------

You make your way past the moon viewing pool of Caria Manor. The illusory knight that guarded the place having long since been dispelled, you pass the knocked-over chairs and reach the Three Sisters. According to Rogier, rumors place your missing son somewhere in the vicinity of Blaidd’s ancient home. A little wolf-headed boy holding the hand of a large man with a brutish looking sword. While they didn’t mention anything about the man’s lupine features, there’s only so many people that would be heading to this creepy place that fit that description. Adula, Ranni’s dragon, lands before you as you take your first step towards the stairs. “Get out of my way, you oversized salamander!” You yell, too pissed off to be intimidated by the dragon. She roars, building up frost in her throat and getting ready to blast you with a torrent of ice. How annoying. “I don’t have time for this….” You say, bringing up your greatsword above your head with two hands. You focus on the blade, calling to the long lost memories of war that were etched onto it.  Blue light engulfs it, extending it into a massive weapon of light. In a moment you bring it down above Adula’s forehead, splitting her skull apart like an apple in a comical display. Just as quickly as it appeared, the light disappears from your greatsword, leaving it as it was before, only bloodier. “Sorry, but I warned you.” You mutter to the corpse, too busy to really ponder on how easy that victory was. You instead turn your attention to Ranni’s Rise, returning to your previous objective. Each step you take makes a deafening sound in the silence of Ranni’s domain. Looking up at the same tower all of these years later fills you with a strange nostalgia, mixed with pure disdain for its owner. Maybe if things had gone differently, you would have never had to return to this tower ever again. If Blaidd had not been so stubborn about his oath, if his nature allowed him to see Ranni as you did, he would not have stolen your son away. Shaking your head, you remind yourself of why you’re here. You’ll deal with the half-wolf one way or another, but first you must deal with the witch.

The stone stairs, the glintsone crystals, the books strewn about, all of it was the same as the last time you saw it. While your life was full of changes and upheaval, it would seem Ranni and Blaidd’s stagnated. Not that you feel sorry for her, if anything she probably deserves it. A rotting old tower to match her rotten interior. A rotting body of twine and ceramic from which she would never escape, were it up to you at least. You pass the main chamber and step into the elevator, sorting your thoughts out as you ride it up. Getting mad at Ranni might put Aster in danger, but you need answers. If Ranni intends to put your son in danger, then you’ll have no choice but to fight her and potentially kill her. Rogier told you she’s on a different level from anything you’ve seen before, but you can’t sit by the side and watch her do whatever she wants with other people’s lives. She may be strong, but there’s a reason she’s been hiding instead of doing everything out in the open. There has to be something she’s afraid of. As the elevator stops you’re faced with the final winding staircase up to Ranni’s chamber. Climbing the perilous final stretch (there’s no railing on this, that’s unsafe.) you eventually reach Ranni the witch herself, who peers at you as you enter from beneath the rim of her hat. You really want to bat that stupid thing off, but you try your best to stay calm.

“... Greetings, tarnished. Quite bold of thee to enter my chamber without an invitation. Though I distinctly remember banishing thee from my domain, I shall let this incident slide.” The witch says, playing dumb. Obviously she knows why you’re here, and she knows that you know she’s involved. “Spare me the act, Ranni.” You say, feeling unwilling to play along with her games. “Tell me where Aster went. I know you made Blaidd take him, so don’t try to play dumb.” Ranni merely shakes her head, and for a moment you see what might be sadness cross her doll features. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but it piques your interest. “... The Moonlight Altar… that is where thy child is being taken by Blaidd as we speaketh.” She says, cold and uncaring as always. “If all goes according to the plan, the Two Fingers shall meet their end, and the Age of Stars will be upon us…Is that all thou wished to know?” The Two Fingers? You figured it had something to do with that, but you didn’t think Ranni would swoop so low as to kidnap your son to usher in her Age of Stars. “So you intend to use a child as a tool to get your way? What the hell is wrong with you?! If it’s so important, why don’t you do it yourself now that the blade is yours?!” You scowl. If you could take your sword and run it through her unfeeling porcelain face, you would have already. The witch looks away, into the expanse visible from her tower. A single icy blue eye stares into the distance. You can see the Moonlight Altar from here. “I hath enough of these petty squabbles… Blaidd, for all his loyalty, no longer aligns with the fated path we are to take. He intends to continue making me into his slaver, for that is his nature as a shadow… I shall not alloweth that any longer. This is a compromise that shall leave Blaidd at your mercy. Doth thou understand?” She looks at you, her single eye sends shivers through your spine. Her expression is unreadable, but you don’t sense any malice in her glare.

“... I think I do.” You admit. While you’re not keen on the details, you think you get the jist of it. Blaidd shall only be destroyed by the Fingers if Ranni turns traitor. So she took Aster so he can kill them for her, leaving Blaidd out of it by proxy. “But why? Why do you care now? You knew Blaidd was going to die and you did not even consider an alternative.” Ranni looks away, back to the Moonlight Altar. Is she expecting to see Blaidd from so far away? Or is her eye special somehow, letting her see things you can’t with your human ones. “... Blaidd… is unhappy.” The doll speaks, sounding… sad? It’s so subdued it’s hard to tell, but she sounds upset. She ignores your confusion and continues like it’s nothing. “A shadow doth exist to serve its master, with not a thought of betrayal ever crossing its mind. Thus, regardless of the circumstance, it shall always yield to its master's will with a smile... yet, Blaidd is unhappy....” Her eye turns while her head is still facing the windows. It’s a little creepy, but you don’t jump (it’s more of a jolt). "Mayhaps he hath not yet realized it, but within his heart, his act of treachery hath already taken root. Were he free to choose, he would renounce the Age of Stars for the sake of the boy... and for thy sake. Of that, I hath no doubts…." Blaidd… would? So then why have you lived with this guilt all this time? Why… Why did Blaidd react so explosively to your treachery, if he felt that way? What was the point?

"His choices bear no weight... as of now. He remains tethered by his oath to me, yet once the Fingers crumble into dust, and the Age of Stars dawns, those chains that bind him shall shatter. Then he shall be at your disposal....” Ranni’s voice cuts through your muddled thoughts like a knife. “His display of intimidation... that was beyond my directive. If thou hold'st resentment for him due to it, thou art free to claim his life if thou so desirest. Once the Fingers vanish, he shall be mortal. Though….” Her arms shift and fold, and she rests her chin upon the palm of her left arm. The thin porcelain fingers touch her face delicately. "To mine eyes, such an outcome doth appear as a squandering of opportunities, does it not?”

It’s hard to take it all in at once. So Blaidd took Aster to slay the Two Fingers, but it will result in him being free to be by your side. Will he even want to do that? You’re still a traitor, after all. Blaidd’s hatred for traitors might not be abated by freedom. But if what Ranni says is true, then Blaidd has already been feeling disillusioned with the Age of Stars. Without him here it’s hard to tell what will happen. “I’m not happy with your plan.” You finally confess. The witch stares at you, inscrutable as ever. “You still put Aster in danger, and I will not do anything until I can guarantee he is safe.” That is why you came here after all. Aster needs you, and you can’t abandon him under these new circumstances."... as I did anticipate. The path unto the Moonlight Altar doth lay through Renna’s Rise. Thou may choose to trail them if it doth please thee. I am confident that Blaidd... shall be greatly disquieted by thy presence.” You stare at Ranni, she seems bored with this whole affair. “You’re awfully calm. Are you not scared I’ll stop them before they can kill the Fingers?” You say to the doll, but she just tilts her head with a fake smile. "No... thou hast dallied far too much to achieve that. For which I hold gratitude. I had no need to summon thee hither, thou camest of thy own volition." She says. You scoff, figures she might’ve been stalling. That’s your sign to leave if you wish to catch up to them. “Right… all the more reason to get going, then.” You say, turning away from her. The witch does not say goodbye, and you don’t either. You have a lot on your plate right now, and more importantly you have a half-wolf to catch.

—-----------------

The Cathedral of Manus Celes is silent when you arrive. The night breeze passes through your fur and you shiver. You’ve never liked the cold, not even in good times. Finding a crater hidden in this mess might prove a bit tricky. Curtains of vines drape through the empty windows, and leafy tendrils trickle and curl in the tops of the doorways, hanging across the masonry like a shroud over a corpse. Shrubs and trees grow between the pillars, among heaped chunks of frieze that must once have held up a ceiling. Strips of grass poke from between the stone tiles. Greenery does its best to embrace every stone, every wrought-iron window frame, as if to comfort the cathedral in its demise. The crumbling walls and decayed beauty speak of the cathedral's slow, steady decline into ruin, as nature relentlessly reclaims what was once a bastion of the Nox’s achievement. You look through the stonework and rubble, looking for the crater that will lead you to the Two Fingers. Eventually you find it, a gaping mouth, dark as night that winds down into the earth. You tell Aster to climb on your back as you make your way down into the depths.

At the end of the dark winding path, beneath crumbling remains and broken remnants of the Nox’s civilization, you found your target within a cavern adorned by roots and stained carpets. Ranni’s Two Fingers, in all their grotesque glory. They writhe with curiosity at your arrival, but without a translator it is impossible to know what they said. “Do you have the blade, Aster?” You look down at the boy, who nods and pulls the Fingerslayer out of his little makeshift pack. The blade of jagged bone immediately sends the Fingers into high alert. “Um… can you boost me up? I can’t reach.” Aster asks, looking a little shy. You nod, grabbing him underneath the arms and bringing him closer to the frightened fingers. This is really strange, and you don’t feel entirely comfortable letting a child do this. Still, these are orders from your lady, so you don’t have a choice. “I’m sorry Mr. Fingers… um… I’ll try to be gentle.” The boy says. Perhaps it would be more endearing were it not said before a deicide (or is it a demi-deicide? You’re not sure). Aster plunges the blade into the fingers, up to the hilt and then lets go. It’s hard to tell how he feels about it, but he looks lost in thought. You let the boy back down, and he looks up at you. “Are you okay, Aster?” You ask, not sure about how murdering something so inhumane might affect his young mind. You can only hope it did not leave him with any mental scars or lingering regrets. After a tense moment, Aster lets out a big yawn (complete with that trademark squeak at the end) and rubs his eyes. “... m’tired. I wanna go home now.” You let out a chuckle. “Alright, let’s go then.” You squat down, and Aster clambers up your back. It seems he’s fine for now, but you’ll pay attention to any negative signs. Now it’s time to make your return.

As you step out into the Moonlight altar, you see something curious. A twinkling pair of lights, one an icy blue and another a light shade of purple, hidden behind the shadow of a tree. In the moonlight it’s hard to tell, but it seems like a pair of eyes to you. You’re not alone! Immediately your senses go on high alert as you perk your ears and take a deep breath to detect any more attackers. A step in the grass by your left, you snap to attention drawing your sword, only to be met with a Black Knife Assassin lunging at you. Aster squeals in fear, but you manage to cut the attacker down before it could strike you. Damn it! You should have guessed the Two Fingers would attempt to defend themselves, and now you’ve put Aster in danger as a result. You fool! Before you can berate yourself any further, you tell Aster to hold on tight and you run away, hearing footsteps rushing after you. So long as you don’t know how many assassins there are, you can’t risk having them catch you while Aster is on your back. The figure with the heterochromatic eyes will have to wait.

Eventually, after running for what feels like hours, you find a large enough tree with sturdy looking branches. “Aster, don’t be scared, okay? I’m gonna need you to climb up there.” You say to the boy as you take him off your back with your hands. The pup wraps his arms around your neck and sobs. “Please don’t leave me alone… I… I don’t wanna be alone!” Your heart aches, and you want to comfort the boy properly, but there’s no time. You pull him away more forcefully than you’d like, and force him to stare at you. His eyes are filled with tears. “I’m not leaving you, but you’ll be safer up there. I’ll be right here where you can see me, promise.” You exclaim, but then your ears twitch at the sound of your pursuers’ footsteps. They’re here! “Now, go!” You say pushing him up the tree and turning back. You hear Aster climb up, the leaves of the tree rustling as he settles in a higher branch. Opening your ears and eyes as wide as you can, you try to locate your attackers. The assassins have cloaks that allow them partial invisibility. It’s subtle, but you can find them if you concentrate. One of them moves and your body, coiled up like a spring, releases all the tension into a swing that cuts the body in half, splattering the ground in red. You can only hope Aster was looking away. Immediately after, two more sets of footprints rush for the tree, but with a growl you swing your greatsword twice. Slicing each assassin into pieces before they can reach. “Look away, Aster!” You yell, but you don’t hear the response as an Assassin swings her black knife close to your face. You luckily manage to roll away just in time, but she escapes into the dark, becoming invisible again. You cheek stings and you notice that she managed to strike a surface wound. It wouldn’t scar, but it’s not a good sign. You can’t keep going forever like this, you need a plan.

That’s when Aster's voice can be heard from somewhere above you. “Um… There’s one of them getting close from your left.” You’re surprised, but you quickly swing your sword through the dark and strike true on an assassin. Her blood splatters over the grass. “Now there’s one on your right, and one behind you!” The boy says again. You don’t question it, but sure enough as you swing your sword, two assassins are stuck. One dodges beneath, but you manage to kick her to the floor before stabbing your sword through the light armor. “How can you tell where they are?!” You yell up, concentrating on the scent of the attackers over the overwhelming scent of blood. “They keep leaving footprints on the blood. There’s one approaching from right in the front, it’s running pretty fast!” You look forward to the sound of footprints rushing towards you. You swing your sword, but the assassin ducks beneath it, slinking to the left. Just as you thought you lost sight of it, an explosion of colorful powder occurred to your left, and a very confused and very pink assassin was left exposed. “I’ll make them easier to see for you! It’s good that I brought my crafting kit along.” Another explosion of color, this time green, painted another assassin visible for you. “Good job, Aster!” You yell as your now very exposed prey was defenseless against your sword.

Three more colorful bombs were thrown from the tree, and three more assassins were cut down. Their blood mixed with the colors they were painted with, leaving a morbid bright scene. You can only hope the view is less gorey from up there in the tree, at least the assassins’ bodies dissolve into ash instead of piling up after death. For a moment it seems quiet and you’re about to ask Aster if he spots any more, when a scream is heard. “Ahh! Dad help!” You turn sharply at the sound of the boy’s distress, only to be confronted with an assassin pinning the boy to the floor, about to plunge the knife into him. Did she sneak up behind you where neither of you could see her? You don’t care, suddenly you feel white hot anger and lunge uncaringly at the assailant. “STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY SON!” You feel more than you hear yourself exclaim.

In a moment you’re rolling on top of the assassin. Her knife is still in her hand, but now your fangs have sunk into her neck. You bite down and pull to rip her throat out, but before the deed is done she manages to slash at your neck defensively. You ignore the pain, and she dies like the scum she is. You hear little footsteps pad over to you. That was the last of them, but your problems are not over. You bring a hand to your neck, the cut was deeper than you expected. You’re having trouble breathing now. You see, but don’t hear Aster scream while rushing to your side with tears in his eyes. You tumble over to the side, feeling your body becoming numb. You're left staring up at the sky as he stands over you, forcing something into the wound of your neck as he cries. You want to apologize, but your throat is filled with blood and you can’t speak. So all you do is bring your hand up, and wipe his tears away. “I’m sorry I could not keep my promise, Aster” You want to say. “but I’m so happy… I'm so… so happy I got to meet you… I’m so happy I got to be your dad… even if it didn’t last long.” You try to mutter out, but the words don’t leave you. “So please don’t cry… I want to see you smile again before I go….” You think you said, but your ears are filled with cotton, and Aster’s tears don’t stop. Maybe it was too much of you to ask. But you get to be selfish. At least once in your life you get to be selfish.

Then the world fades, and you are no more.

—-----------------

Except you don’t die like you thought you would. You dream. You imagine the life you could have had if only you’d not been born into shackles. You see a beautiful family, where everyone loves each other, and no one is trapped by their past. You see Ranni, standing by the side, present despite her differences with your lover. She will never understand why it hurts you seeing her here. You see your kids, happy and healthy, each one of their little eyes looking up at you with wonder and love. You see Aster, clinging to your hand as you walk together. He’s smiling, and you’re smiling too. You see her, beautiful like only she can be. She takes your hand in hers, and your sense of direction disappears. You want to go where she’s going, and you’re happy to let her take you there. You don’t know for how long you dream, but at some point you open your eyes to see the stars far above you.

Your senses return to you one by one. First you smell antiseptic and medicine, strong and close to you. The chemical scent makes your nose crinkle. Second, your mouth feels very dry, like it has been in disuse for a long time. You bring your tongue over your fangs, remarking on the iron taste of blood over them. Your body feels too numb to move, but your ears turn as you hear someone stepping close to where you’re laying down. “Finally awake, are you?” A woman's voice. You know her, but you’ve never heard her be this tired. “Aster has not stopped crying since we found you, you know? You’re going to have to apologize to him for almost dying in front of him.” Her tone is mocking, but you also detect relief in her voice. You try to tilt your head to see her, but you whine in pain as your neck stings when you move. “Hey there, careful. It was really difficult to put you back together after that little stunt you pulled.” She kneels over you, and you can finally see her face as she readjusts the bandages around your neck. “It’s… you….” You try to say, but it comes out as a broken whisper. Your voice is too mangled to speak as anything more than a hoarse mutter. Still, she looks down at you and smiles. “Of course it’s me. You didn’t think I was going to let you abduct my son without giving chase, did you? You know me better than this.” That you do. Your tail wags as much as the numbness in your body lets it. “It’s nice… to see you again….” You push out of your mouth. She looks away to the camp, you can hear the sound of children laughing as someone very excitedly tells a fairy tale. Then looks back down at you. “That’s not how you felt last time we spoke. If I remember correctly, you promised to hunt me down.” She says, one brow raised. While she seems to be toying with you, you still sense some pain beneath her words.

You feel the shame of what you said wash over you. You can’t even recall what you were thinking anymore. Before reason can stop you, you blurt out what’s been in your mind for a long time. “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry” You both say at the same time, interrupting each other. Her eyes open wide upon hearing you apologize. You would almost laugh if your body didn’t feel so numb. “You… first….” You say, recovering a bit of feeling in your lungs. You still are not completely fine, so it’s better if you wait some more before speaking. She composes herself, brushing her hair back with one hand and taking a deep breath. “Okay… I just wanted to say sorry… this happened because of me. I… should have trusted you with the Fingerslayer Blade.” She looks down at you, at your wounds. “... I just felt I needed to save you so badly. I care so much about you, I could not stand the thought of the Two Fingers driving you mad. At the time I figured it was fine if you hated me so long as you didn’t die over this… I didn’t see how much I was hurting you… and I apologize.” She looks into your eyes, and this is the first time you’ve noticed how red they are. She’s been crying too over this, hasn’t she? “Now you go.” She finishes. Looks like the floor is yours.

You take a deep breath, trying to reawaken your neglected throat and lungs as much as you can. A sincere apology deserves one in return, and even though you’re not good with words, you will try to deliver. “I’m sorry… not just for taking Aster away… It must not have been easy… seeing me try to destroy myself for the sake of my sister….” You stare into her eyes. When you’re this close she must feel your rancid breath on her skin, but if it bothers her, she does not show it. “... I didn’t see how much I was hurting you either… I couldn’t, that’s just not how shadows are… I’m sorry for what I said after too… You….” You feel something trail down the side of your face. Is it blood or tears? Perhaps it doesn’t matter, so long as you can say this with honesty. “You make a wonderful family… and I’m ashamed I couldn’t see that….” She looks down at you as you finish, a wavering smile crosses her lips as she comes close and kisses you on your forehead. If only you could come closer, you would lick her face in return. “Y’know… I don’t want to force you into anything….” She starts, staring at the camp where her children are now asking a certain male voice to read another story. “But I could use some help around here. If you’d like to stick around…” She’s playing coy, but her request comes to you loud and clear. “Really? I would have thought your new man might have some trouble with that….” You say, ignoring the pang of jealousy at the idea of anyone else having her. She chuckles, the joke is apparently lost on you. “Rogier and I aren’t like that… You can think of him as a last minute babysitter. This…” She says, drawing circles over your chest. It’s embarrassing to admit how much that drove the numbness out of your prick. “Is a lot more permanent. Besides, you can’t make up for abducting my child if you run away.” She says. Still as chopsy as ever. She looks into your eyes, and while she’s not forcing you into anything… well. “It sounds like a deal….” You say, earning yourself another kiss on the forehead.

Things might not return to how they were before, once something is broken it’s hard to place the pieces exactly the same. But that’s no reason not to try. Even though the future seems uncertain, and you’re still a little afraid, you keep moving forward for all your sakes. You can’t have courage if you don’t know fear, after all.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Iulius and Augustus (A Starry Night Story)

Here's a cute little story inspired by a dumb thing my friend said. It's a two parter so hopefully I'll have the second part up soon.

CW: Mentions of child abduction and some of the events from AoIS

------------

You poke at the sizzling meat, careful lest it burns on your skillet. The smell of cooked lamb wafts up to your sensitive nose, and your stomach rumbles accordingly. Were it up to you, you would have eaten the meat as you found it, but your little companion does not have enough wolf in his blood to digest raw meat (something you unfortunately discovered after he got sick and you didn’t know what to do). The boy stares at you as you cook. Hungry little eyes follow your hands as you turn each cut of meat over. He’s cautious of you, but at least he will accept any food you offer him. You can’t blame him for his mistrust.

After all, you are his abductor.

What stories did his mother tell about you? What did her children know of the father that stalked them in the night? Of the monster who would rip their family apart, were it necessary to bring the Age of Stars into existence? Maybe she kept you a secret, a family embarrassment her children would only be able to wonder about. You would be okay with that, perhaps, being forgotten by her. Despite being a traitor, her pups need her, and you….

You….

It’s frustrating. You know the hatred isn’t there anymore, yet your mind will not let you conjure the thought of forgiveness. The statements: ‘She took the Fingerslayer Blade in a misguided attempt to protect you.’ and ‘She loved you.’ are both logical, as veridical as ‘one equals one.’ they’re impossible to deny. You want so badly to let the pieces fall into place, but the curse of your very being stops them from doing so. What’s more, the moment Lady Ranni asked you to bring the boy to her, to use him as a tool to kill the Two Fingers, you folded like a wet sheet of paper. You wanted to protest, plead with her to leave them alone, but what did you say instead? “It shall be done, my lady.” without hesitation. What a pathetic creature you are, less than a worm, less than the scum of the earth, you-

“It’s burning.” A tiny hushed voice breaks you out of your spiraling. You stop yourself from swearing before taking the slightly charred meat out of the fire and into a wooden plate. “Sorry….” you mutter as you pass the boy his share (the less burnt one). Aster accepts your offering, taking small and careful bites with his little muzzle. You’re glad he’s eating, at least. For the first few days after you took him from his mother’s camp, he would not stop crying, to the point that he would not eat. You felt awful about that. A young pup of about 5 or 6 years old is growing and needs nutrients. Worse still was knowing that you couldn’t console him other than by reassuring him that he would return to his family safe and sound. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t turn back. Lady Ranni would never allow it. Now the boy is calm, more curious about you than afraid. You can’t decide if that’s for better or worse. You don’t bother restraining him, as he does not attempt to run away. If only the Lands Between were safer for a young pup, maybe you would be okay with letting him escape to find his mother, then deal with Ranni’s ire at your incompetence. Her words would be easier to deal with than the gnawing guilt currently eating you alive. She’s always been the type to use the Silent Treatment, anyway, that or attempting murder.

You chew the burnt mutton, grimacing at the bitter taste in your mouth. The boy looks at you, or rather, he looks at your open jaw whenever you take a bite out of the meat. His tail wags curiously at the sight of your fangs. Aster’s teeth are relatively tiny, a mouth full of little needles that would probably cause more pain than injury. You would know as he bit your finger the other day, and the scream you let out would have given anyone a reason to be concerned. If his’ are needles, yours are knives. Big enough to tear away at flesh and bone alike.

As a general rule, you avoid biting during fights. It’s not honorable, and you’d rather avoid being compared to a wild animal, but to a little pup, it must be exciting to get an idea of how big and dangerous one’s mouth can get. A smile tugs at your lip, and you make a show of biting down on your meal, the burnt flavor now slightly dulled. Aster laughs a carefree giggle that makes your tail wag, though your guilt still weighs on your shoulders. Maybe you can pretend to be Father and Son for just a moment. After this is over, you won’t see him again. You can’t, not after what you did. Your frown fades into a smile as Aster attempts to shove as much of the mutton into his mouth, his little fangs unable to tear so much meat away. It’s adorable, though you hesitate to say it out loud. You hope that Aster forgets all the tears he shed on the way here as he grows older. You hope he continues to laugh like this forever, even if you don’t get to see it. 

—-----------------

Aster does not speak much, mostly walking by your side in silence. You had offered to carry him on your shoulders, though he refused. His tumbling steps made you feel nervous about his well-being, but he never slowed down or fell like you thought he might. Now and again, you would catch him grabbing onto your cloak for stability, so you offered to hold his hand if he needed it instead. He was wary, of course, but he did take you up on your offer after some deliberation. His fingers are so tiny, a little mirror image of your rougher padded digits. It’s adorable.

You eventually reach the Three Sisters after doing your best to avoid the Fingercreepers lurking in Caria Manor. Adula greets you as you arrive, bowing her head in respect. Aster hides behind you, peeking at the dragon with some trepidation. “It’s okay, she’s a friend.” You reassure the boy, but he just hides under your cloak. A sigh escapes your lips as you dismiss Adula with a hand motion. The dragon doesn’t stop to ponder the small furry creature hiding behind you, and she takes off into the skies, kicking up dust and grass in her wake. You peek under your cloak and behind you at the pup currently hugging your tail. “Don’t worry, Aster, she’s gone.” You say, offering your hand to the boy. Aster ignores you, staring up at Ranni’s Rise, clearly uncomfortable with the derelict tower. “... scary.” he says, hiding behind your leg. You tilt your head as you look at the building over. Now that you think about it, Ranni’s Rise does have a rather ominous look to it. Perhaps you’ve simply grown accustomed to it, or maybe it’s just that everything related to your lady seems to have its imperfections scrubbed away in your eyes. Perhaps it is you who is strange for not feeling apprehensive.

Aster clutches your leg, and his face presses against your thigh. You can almost feel him trembling through the plate and the leather of your boot. “Aster….” you nudge him gently, but he does not release your leg; if anything, his grip tightens. If Seluvis were alive, perhaps he would jeer (or cackle) at the idea that a child could so quickly and effectively immobilize you. “Aster? Are you okay?” you nudge him again to no avail. Well, this is a problem. What to do? Grabbing Aster and forcing him to enter with you would likely be the most straightforward answer, but something about that just leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Children don’t deserve to get treated like misbehaving animals, and being afraid isn’t something they should be punished for. Coercion might work, but you can’t think of anything Aster might like. If only you knew him better. You try to remember how your mother might have helped you if you were scared. She was always the better parent, not that the competition was ever stiff. Radagon was not dad of the year material, even on his good days. (The irony of history seemingly repeating itself is not lost on you.) There was this one time you were afraid of swimming, and your mother said… hmmm. Okay, that could work.

As calmly as you can, you put your fingers over Aster’s, petting the fur on the back in a soothing motion. You try to keep your voice as calm as you can. “Aster… I understand you’re afraid of going inside. It’s maybe not the most welcoming place, but… I assure you that nothing bad will happen… I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” You say, feeling Aster’s grip on your leg weakens just a little. You gently pry him away from your leg, and he lets you. His faded lavender eyes look slightly red. He’s been crying. You kneel in front of him, wiping away what remains of his tears with your thumb. “Ni allwn fod yn ddewr os nad ydym byth yn ofni.” You say, repeating the words your mother once said, only to be met with a tilted head and a little frown… Shit. You’re such an idiot! Of course, he wouldn’t know any Liurnian. You feel your cheeks slightly redden at your mistake. You’re about to explain what it means when Aster pipes up. “... Dw i'n dy garu ti?” It catches you off guard, and you sputter for a moment. The boy merely stares at you, an equal mix of concern and amusement in his eyes. “Y-you… how did you…?” You manage to say, the marbles in your skull still rattling around. Aster looks down, and a sad look crosses his eyes. “Mum says it sometimes… it sounds like what you just said.” His little ears fall back, and he wrings his hands together. Thinking of his mother must have worried him. “... she said it with a smile but smelled like tears… I don’t get it, and she wouldn’t explain.” He falls silent.

Even when crouched down to Aster’s level, he looks up at you, his tiny body still dwarfed by your massive one. To think she would not only remember what little Liurnian you taught her but would choose to tell her children she loves them using your tongue. That’s… Well, that’s something. “To be honest, I don’t understand it either….” You admit, ruffling the fur on Aster’s head, causing him to let out a little giggle. “But it means your mother loves you very much… and I’ll make sure you see her again soon.” Aster smiles; it’s a cute and dorky grin. You smile, pushing the thoughts of his mother and her strangeness into the back of your mind. It doesn’t matter anymore to you, does it? Why do you care that she remembered? You’ll never see her again, not that she’d want to see your sorry mug. Stop thinking about impossibilities and concentrate on your mission. Your tail is a traitor that wags when you think about her, and you would do well to chop the bloody thing off.

—----------------------

Ranni was not particularly glad to see you. She hadn’t been happy to see you for a long time, though today she was particularly unhappy with your presence. You don’t understand what you did to earn her disdain. You chose to stay loyal to her, didn’t you? Shouldn’t she be happy that you would honor your oath to her above everything? Even though you wanted to be a father, the Age of Stars needed to come. Ranni knows this, yet your relationship with her has not been the same since that day the Fingerslayer Blade slipped out of her grasp. You don’t understand her; maybe you never understood her. Still, loyal hound (or lap dog perhaps) that you are, you stay by her side.

You will take Aster to the Moonlight Plateau tomorrow morning. He should be able to slay the Two Fingers keeping Ranni bound to this land. Once it was over, you would return Aster to his family. Then… Well, then you’ll have to find something else to do. Maybe, if you’re lucky, Aster’s mother might be kind enough to chop your head clean off your shoulders. It would certainly make things easier. For now, you get to spend the night here at the tower. Aster was still a little scared but followed you into your chambers. His little fingers wrap around your index as you show the boy where he will be staying.

“Are you comfortable, Aster?” You say as you tuck the boy in your bed. Crouched by his side. He looks so small compared to it. A tiny fluffy head poked behind a sea of sheets and blankets. Aster yawns (complete with a familiar whine at the end) before responding. “Uh-huh….” You run a thumb over the fur of his head. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me then. Goodnight.” You stand up and would have made your way to the stairs if not for the hesitant look on Aster’s face, clutching at the sheets and looking at you and away like he wants to ask something. It would seem there is something wrong. “Aster? Did you want something else?” If he wants a glass of water or a snack before bed, there’s probably something around here he can eat. Or maybe he’s concerned about sleeping in a stranger’s bedroom for the night, though now that you think about it, has he ever been in a bedroom before? You didn’t think to ask, but maybe he hasn’t. Is that what has him uneasy?

Aster cuts off your runaway train of thought. “... are you really my dad?” He asks in an almost embarrassed tone that makes you feel increasingly silly. You kneel back by his side of the bed, trying to keep your tone calm and comforting even though your face feels a little hot. “I… I am, yes.” You say. It’s not worth explaining to a child that even though you’re his father biologically, you do not get to call yourself that after what you did. “Is that all you wanted to know?” Aster shakes his head, his little fingers still clutching the sheets. He’s steeling himself to say what he wants, like a warrior before a duel, to the point that it’s starting to make you uneasy.

“... Why….” The boy finally says. “... Why don’t you and Mum talk anymore?” The tone is not accusatory but stings you almost like it is. It’s only natural a kid would be curious, but honestly, you were hoping to avoid it for as long as you could. Aster sees your ears crumple, or maybe how your eyes dart away and pushes on, knowing he will get his answers. “Mum told me you fought, but… Why… Why can’t you make up? Aren’t people supposed to say sorry after they fight?” Aster looks… almost betrayed. As though the knowledge that adults are more complex is baffling to him, like the fact that the world is messy and full of irreconcilable differences is too wide for his little mind to comprehend. You don’t know how to respond to his question, as frankly, that’s not something a child his age would be ready to understand.

When you fought, it was because you felt she had betrayed your and your lady’s trust. She took the Fingerslayer Blade and potentially tried to turn you into a traitor, or so you thought. As the years passed and you gave it more thought, you concluded that maybe your Tarnished lover had a reason to think as she did. Lady Ranni, for as much as your mind would never allow you to see her in a bad light, had no intention of saving you once the Two Fingers took hold of your mind. Realizing how little it meant to her stung, but the years since the Fingerslayer Blade was stolen made it clear the sister you thought you knew was long dead, buried under an icy glare and heart. You’d still give your life to her, and the Tarnished was wrong for trying to force your hand, but you wonder if maybe you’d feel otherwise if the curse of your very being was lifted. It scares you as much as it entices you, the dark thoughts of betrayal that every cell in your body seems to reject, yet they persist in your mind. Besides, it must not have been easy seeing you try to destroy yourself. if it was you in her shoes, you’d definitely….

…

Yes. You would have done the same for her… you can admit as much to yourself. You turn to Aster’s little inquisitive eyes. He's been silent, but you felt him picking at your expression with his eyes, trying to unearth the details of the story from your facial movements alone. “... Adults sometimes forget that they need to say sorry. When someone hurts you, it can be easy to forget the other person might have been hurt too….” You explain calmly and reassuringly. “She did something that upset me, and I wasn’t ready to forgive her for it then… I… I then said some things that….” Hurt her beyond what you could do with a sword or fang? Threw her love for you in the mud and dug your heel in? Projectile vomited the worst combination of words you could think of for the sole purpose of causing her emotional pain? Go on, pick your poison. “... that I won’t repeat, but they upset her back… a lot….” Coward. “Then… we went our separate ways and never saw each other again. She would have her cubs in peace, never having to bring up the past or think about me again.” Except for the part where you threatened to hunt her down and told her to give her children up for adoption. Let’s leave that part out for the 6-year-old, shall we? “... It’s okay to not forgive people sometimes, Aster… not when they’re… bad guys… like me.” Silence falls in the room as you finish your muttering, inconsistent explanation. It’s better this way. She has a new life and little pups that depend on her while you’re a bloody mess. You do not deserve any of it, especially not after abducting a child.

Aster stares at you, not shocked or upset. He has that doe-eyed puppy-dog look to him where you’re not sure if a single word you just said was processed in his mind. Rude. You dropped some pretty heavy stuff back there, did he not think much of it? “Aster? Is something wrong?” You ask the boy. He looks away, staring at your desk and the items on top. “But… Mum thinks about you all the time….” He looks back in what you know understand is a look of confusion. “She always says she wants us to meet you one day, and that our dad is super strong and brave….” She… she said that? W-Why… Why would she say that?! Aster goes back to fiddling with the hem of the sheets, looking down at them like they were the most interesting thing in the room. “Umm… please don’t tell her, but the other day I heard her talking to herself and she said she wished you were there to help out… So, uh… That means you’re wrong about my Mum not wanting to see you!” He finishes, staring at you with a little accusatory glare. You’re still reeling, lost on how to respond. So despite all the awful things you threatened to do, she still thinks of you like the noble knight you pretend to be. Then again, it was always just a weak excuse, wasn’t it? The real problem here is, and has always been, you.

You finally manage to push out a single: “... huh.” After a tense moment of silence, earning yourself the tiniest slap on your muzzle. “Ow! Sorry, I was just… surprised.” You say, rubbing the sore spot on your muzzle. “If… if that’s true then I guess… I don’t have any excuse….” She doesn’t have the Fingerslayer Blade anymore. Your reason for hunting her down is over too. Still… Can it really be so simple? Surely you can’t just waltz back to her and sort things out. Wars have been fought over less and yet… “Are you scared?” Aster’s voice returns you to reality, his face tilted in concern. “Are you afraid… of mum?” He asks in a most sincere way that makes you feel pathetic. You look down at your hands, so large comparatively, and yet it’s like you’re the kid in this situation. “... I am… maybe.” You admit, not bearing to look at those eyes. You can’t stand the thought of lying to him right now. Faded lavender that reflects your insecurities like a mirror. You don’t jump (it’s more of a jolt) when the boy’s hand touches the fur in the back of yours, rubbing at the fur in a circular motion. “... if you’re scared… we can go to her together. I’m not good at a lot of things, but I can do this.” You smile. It creeps up from deep within you, a smile of genuine happiness, something you don’t think you have felt for a long time. Are you gonna say no, after a vote of confidence like that? You look back at the boy, who smiles back at you, simple and dorky. “Well… alright.” You say. “When we’re done with this, your mother and I can have a chat.” You hear the little thumping noise of Aster’s tail, trapped under the sheets. It’s worth a shot, at least. “Mind you, I can’t promise it’ll go well. She won’t be happy that I took you without permission.” You remind him, though it hardly dampens his enthusiasm. “Oh, but I’m having so much fun!” The boy says, ignoring the criminality of what you did. Maybe when he gets older he will understand.

After that you put Aster to bed again. The pup was reluctant about going to sleep, but his ever increasing yawns made it clear it was past his bedtime. You turned off the lights, snuffing out each candle, letting the room go dark save for the faint glow of glintstone from the crystals that grew everywhere. “G’night, dad.” Aster said as you stood up and were about to leave. You could’ve said something else, something that still kept the pretense of distance about your bond, but instead you said the one thing that could seal your fate. “Goodnight… son.” From then on you were doomed. Absolutely screwed. Completely and perpetually. Don’t let your wagging tail fool you.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Erebus (a Maiden of the Stars Epilogue)

Not me sneak-releasing an epilogue. This is just a very short thing I wanted to write for the maiden path. It's really short, but I had fun with it anyway.

Half inspired by this Mitski track

---------------------

It’s a cold and dark journey through infinite darkness. After restoring the Elden Ring and weaving the new order of the world with it, you took to the stars, as it was foretold you would. You were prepared to face this journey to destroy the Greater Will and establish the Chill Night. You did not need a consort, as your loneliness was to be as much a solemn duty as a punishment. To bring a companion along would be cruel, yet Aster joined you of his own will. It’s strange that despite the gap between you, the burned bridges, and the scorched earth, he still provides you with companionship. It’s not love, familial or otherwise, but for a moment, it’s close enough to pretend to feel loved. Maybe that’s all you deserve.

He stares back at the blue marble you abandoned so long ago. To you, it’s lost among the stars, a tiny insignificant speck of dust hidden between the titans that rule its existence, but to him, the Lands Between might as well have been beneath his feet. He hasn’t lost sight of it since you left eons ago. Everything he once knew now faded into dust; the world he once belonged to simply isn’t there anymore, yet he keeps staring. Regret, perhaps, or maybe a sense of duty towards that which he abandoned. Maybe it doesn’t matter, but you try to support him anyway.

It’s a cold embrace, a home without warmth, a place to survive but not to live, but it’s the only embrace you can give. The people you robbed him from can’t love him anymore, so you have to try and make him feel loved for them. That’s the only apology you can give. He smiles at you. He doesn’t hide his sadness, but he is grateful. You wish you could be someone else, but he doesn’t mind. In the cold dark path you’ve embarked on, you’re everything he has left, and vice-versa.

Eventually, he’ll be reunited with her, and his family shall meet once more beyond the veil. You will not join them, for even if you died, the place you would go would never be the paradise he belongs in, so you’ll be left alone, amongst the dark. Until then, you’ll be here for him in whatever small way you can.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Hyperion (a Champion of Embers epilogue)

CW: For kinda gross eye stuff, but it's a glass eye so dw

Heyyyy, this is a short epilogue I wrote to tie up some remaining stuff. For now, I don't have anything more planned for this branch but if you have a request you'd like to see I'm open to suggestions. Feel free to recommend music for this fic too.

—-------------------

The moon is high in the sky as you approach Bellum Church. Only a sliver of light remains at the very bottom, bathing the night with the moonlight it can. The dark moon shall soon be upon you, her power flowing yet hidden in the night sky. The waning moon gives way to the peaceful dark. It calls to you, but it’s a call you cannot answer. Not yet, at least. The patrolling Night Guard and the knights of the Cuckoo don’t see you as you pass them by. It’s almost impressive how dim they are. You reach the steps of the church uninterrupted, and inside, facing away from you, you see him. Clad in Rune Bear fur, brushing away at the dirt and grime of a familiar sword. It’s a sight that perhaps reminds you of better days, of a time when your brother would receive his sword as a gift, so proud of having earned it that he spent every day polishing its every detail with great care. It elicits within you nostalgia and a deep sense of sadness that… frustrates you. How can you bring the night far from emotion and faith if you cannot control these fickle embers of regret? The path that awaits you is cold and dark, an eternity in solitude while you keep the forces that guide this world far away in the night sky. To allow yourself to feel anything shall only bring you pain. That’s how you once felt. Now you’re not so sure.

You take a seat next to Aster as he polishes away the imperfections in the sword. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence beyond a twitch of his ear in your direction. You notice him only using one arm to care for the blade, leading you to discover that his other arm is missing. It seems his salvation was not without losses. It could have been worse, you suppose. A missing limb is not complex to replace in the Lands Between. Malenia, Blade of Miquella, comes to mind as an accomplished warrior who required a prosthesis for her arm. From a certain point of view, your entire body is prosthetic, though your situation is unique. Still, to cheat fate as he did, an arm is nothing. The destiny of all who embrace the flames is to sustain them, to keep the fire burning for all eternity. Slavery in exchange for power. You felt such shame upon letting Aster’s companion know of your failings. You had led him down this path through your miscalculations of the situation. He might not be here today If it wasn’t for that nameless Maiden’s bravery and devotion to him. Hence… why you’re here.

Aster is not speaking, not out of malice, just because he loves to vex you. He wants to see you squirm and struggle to bring up your failures. While he might have called it even, the strain in your relationship is difficult to ignore. Still, there’s almost an edge of normalcy there, constantly keeping each other at arm's length, not out of hatred but because this is how you are. You wonder what Blaidd would have thought about it, but you’ll never know. Eventually, you cave in, though let it be known that you could have stayed there until the Erdtree withered and died of old age. “... I can see that though hast returned to the land of the living. I was worried that the flames wouldst have bested thee, although thy companion never gave up hope. I must apologize for my error, even if thou hast returned safely to her side.” Without moving his head, he looks at you with his remaining eye. The corner of his lip quirks up in an almost imperceptible smile. “It’s not your fault. I knew the risks and agreed to your plan regardless. I don’t need you to worry about me but thank you. I’m… I’m okay.” You suppose he’s not wrong. You were worried about him, even if it frustrates you. Silence falls over the church, but it’s not the same tense silence that greeted you when you arrived. You sit by Aster’s side as he polishes your brother’s sword, seeing yourself reflected on the surface like a mirror.

You didn’t know what to make of your nephew when you first met him. Blaidd’s death shocked you, not just because Shadows cannot die, but because the perpetrator was his own son. You expected some wizened warrior, a veteran in combat. Blaidd was a formidable threat, so when a young wolfling showed up at Caria Manor, you couldn’t believe this was who had finally bested him, much less the one the Fingerslayer Blade had chosen as its master. Then when he confronted you about your disregard for your brother’s life, you wouldn’t admit it, but it got under your skin. What could such a child know about sacrifices? Were it anyone else, you would have ended his life where he stood for his insolence. You believed that Blaidd’s life had to end at the time. There was no other choice, so you shielded your heart from pain and buried the sadness you felt at the thought. Godwyn, Those Who Live in Death, Maliketh, and countless others who suffered because of your actions deserved justice too. Didn’t they? Then, what made Blaidd special? What right did you have to mourn his death? To take the dark path of the Empyrean was to become reviled by the Lands Between, and Blaidd made an oath to follow. No matter how much it hurt him, he couldn’t… abandon you. Perhaps you never stopped to realize that you had deserted him even before that Tarnished woman ever stepped into his life.

You look at Aster, and he looks back. You’re both the same now, a single eye but opposite sides of the face. Yet, if you’re so similar, then what does that mean for you? Could you have become something different, even as the stars dictated your fate? You don’t know. “I would like thee to have this….” You reach towards the single eye of your doll, pulling carefully at the glass sphere. You can no longer see with it once it's in your hand, so you guide yourself through your soul. “I’ll have no need for this doll once I depart towards the stars. Please, let this eye serve thee well. May it guide you through the darkness….” He receives it, looking down at it with care.”... thank you.”  He says as he places it down and reaches for an item in his pack. That thing again. He extends the Fingerslayer to you, grabbing it carefully by the blade. How odd. The hilt does not push itself away from you as it did before. Could it be…? “It belongs to you. Perhaps it’s cheating, but my fate changed, and now it won’t obey me anymore.” Was it the flames or the needle that changed his fate? Who could say? You reach out and grab the hilt. The blade stays put, accepting you as its master. You’re… flummoxed, absolutely flabbergasted. You would never reveal your confusion, though. Instead, you bring the blade close, sensing its shape with your soul. “Now we’re really even… go on, I’ll be fine.” He says, returning to his polishing.

That should be your cue to leave, and perhaps you’ll blame it on a temporary bout of madness, but you approach him and hold him in your arms. “... perhaps I would have enjoyed… being part of thine family… in another life….” You say, putting your face against the warm fur of his head. He doesn’t pull away, even though your hold must be awfully cold. Instead, he reaches up and places a single hand on your right lowermost one. No more words spoken. Dawn approaches, and soon you shall have to depart from this world, but until then, you’ll hold on to what remains of your brother and the life he lived. Even if absolution is beyond you, this you can do.

—-------------------

“Ah… so that’s where that eye came from?” You ask your companion, who sips away at his tea beside you. “More or less, I might have skipped over the part where she hugged me.” Aster says the striking blue iris that now adorned the left side of his face staring at you alongside its pale companion. “That was… awfully nice of her.” You say, not really sure what to make of this information. You stare at Viola and Briar as they stand by the skillet. You can hear them fighting over the proper way to cook mutton. They don’t pay much attention to you, though you imagine Viola has been listening to your every word.

Something cold touches your hand. It’s been tough getting used to it, Aster’s new prosthesis, that is. You intertwine your fingers with his brass ones. The arm is a marvel of technology. The brass casing is lovingly decorated with an impossibly intricate pattern of wildflowers at every border and intersection, with no screws or rivets to be seen and no exposed machinery underneath. The leather that covers the joints is soft to the touch but sturdy. If you close your eyes, it’s almost as if your wolf is merely wearing a gauntlet. The true marvel, though, was its tricks. Briar and Viola couldn’t simply make a regular prosthetic arm; they had to introduce a myriad of tools into it as well. Speaking of….

“Hey, Honey? Would you mind reaching for something to eat?” You say, pointing at the Mutton being cooked. Aster catches your drift immediately, and you smile when he sighs and lifts his arm toward the skillet. His hand folds down at the wrist, exposing the barrel of a device underneath. In less than a second, a dart (or perhaps more of a small harpoon) shoots out of the barrel while attached to a thin chain, hooks onto a piece of meat, and returns to its owner. He catches the meat and hands it over to you carefully, both siblings none the wiser about what transpired. “Thank you!” You say before digging in. Your companion shakes his head and merely cleans the device of any meat residue before returning the hand to normal. “This is a misuse of this device, you know?” He says, but you merely offer him a piece of your muttonchop, and he shuts up. “If you can’t use a grappling hook to steal food, then what good is it for?” You retort. He looks the hand over, inspecting its delicate artistry. “... I suppose you may have a point.”

“Have you gotten a good hang of all the tricks it can do?” You ask him once your meal is complete. Aster shakes his head, bringing a hand up to his face. “I haven’t even finished reading the user manual.” User Manual?! Just how many things did those two add? The shock must have shown on your face because Aster answers the question for you. “A foldable shield, retractable knuckles, a flamethrower, a spirit summoning bell, and a grappling hook. I have only tried the last two, however. Though the shield sounds very useful.” He turns to look at you, and a small smile crosses his lips. “We should train again sometime. That way, I can put all of them to use before we need to fight something.” You sigh, raising your arms in defeat. “Fine, but no flamethrower practice for me. I had enough fire to last me a lifetime.” Aster laughs, it's carefree and light. You wish you could hear it forever. "Deal."

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Heracles and Prometheus (A Champion of Embers Finale)

CW: For blood, dismemberment, icky fire and eye stuff, and possibly major character death (I'm not spoiling who's tho >:3c)

This is the finale for the Champion of Embers path. Thank you so much to everyone to who has been reading up until this point. I will probably be writing an epilogue for this path too, so stay tuned for that, but for now I would like to thank everyone who has been reading along until now:

Sadness

HaltMercurius

Thorn

Knightlileep

jegfenix

and biggest thanks of all to OskiFarouche for lending me their wonderful characters and story, and letting me keep expanding it.

—----------------

Your wolf stands at the center of the chamber, bathed in the sun’s rays that pass between the floating rubble of the crumbling city. His chest armor lay discarded near the entrance, twisted molten metal and a familiar cerulean surcoat ripped to shreds. You can see the cinder in his fur and the embers leaving his flesh, drifting into the wind like a campfire at night. He hasn’t noticed you yet, or at least he hasn’t acknowledged your arrival. All his attention is on the large white form you can spot slumped in front of him. Oh no, that’s Gurranq! “Marika’s hound….” You hear Lobo’s voice. It sounds the same as always, but the inflection is just off. There’s little emotion in his voice, little of the sensitive man you know him to be.

“... you have failed… now, be one with the ashes of your golden tree….” You see his sword arm lift, ready to deal the final blow. Your body reacts before you fully process what you see, and you fire a Night Shard at Lobo’s back. For a second, you’re worried that you might have hurt him, but he doesn’t react to the hit. He instead lowers his arm again and kicks Maliketh into a pillar, his usually weaker legs now capable of knocking someone his size which such force. “Oh dear… another dogged contender. No matter, the flames hunger still….” He turns to face you. You stare in horror as you see flame consume the entire left side of his face, sprouting out of his eyesocket as though it were water from a spring. You look to your left and right. Both Viola and Briar bear a look of determination on their faces seeing their sibling in such a state. You try to imitate their attitude, but you can’t hide your fear. You don’t fear for your safety; you’re afraid that maybe Lobo is too far gone.

Lobo points his sword in your direction, now an elongated and malformed thing, coiling like a corkscrew on itself. “... this is the final grave of the Golden Order, but you may share it too….” And with that, he says no more. Immediately Briar raises his Greatshield and moves in front of the both of you, bocking Lobo from attacking you directly. Viola raises her hands, casting a flame-retardant spell on all of you. (Unfortunately, it seems to involve profusely sweating, so it is a little gross, but that doesn’t matter.) Meanwhile, you cast unseen form and take your position.

Suddenly Lobo jumps, landing right in front of Briar with a swing of his sword. A loud clanging noise as it makes contact with his Greatshield and the quarter-wolf is sent skidding backward. Two more rapid swings from the sword, leaving a trail of fumes behind, and Briar is almost knocked off the central platform into the void below. Before Lobo could do anything, Viola cast an explosive spell in the spot right between the two of them. Separating them and focusing the Flames’ attention back on her. She rushes (as much as one can rush with a huge dress like that) behind one of the columns. Lobo stretches out a hand, which catches aflame and transforms into a grotesque arm long enough to attempt to grab her. Once she passes the column, she manages to dodge the claw by an inch, catching the hem of her dress. A loud ripping noise is heard as Viola brings a knife to the monstrous hand, causing Lobo to recoil in pain, tearing the dress to shreds. “You will pay for that!” Viola yells, running away. Lobo lets out a deep growl as his hand returns to its normal size, and he pulls the knife out. Now the flames begin to spill from the wound in his hand, slowly engulfing the whole limb in flame. Your wolf jumps as if to attack the running woman but is stopped by Briar, who tosses his battle axe and lets the chain wrap around Lobo’s leg. Forcing the burning wolf to fall flat on his face with a strong pull. “That’s no way to treat a lady, cabrón!” Briar yells.

Seemingly tired of all this toying around, Lobo breaks the chain with his blade and gets back up. Before anyone can react, the burning wolf closes the space between him and Briar again. The brown wolf luckily manages to raise his shield before he’s hit with five consecutive hits from Lobo’s sword. The flames begin to bend the metal around the edges, leaving bright red marks whenever they hit. Briar’s poise might be strong, but he’s eventually knocked to the floor, his shield skidding away. If you do nothing, he will die. Luckily, you’re in position, and Lobo has his back turned to you.

You step out of the pillar Viola had run past earlier, having smuggled yourself beneath her dress until she could hide you behind it. You quiet your steps with cotton and sneak up behind your companion quickly, eyeing his exposed neck. If you could sink the needle in the skin behind it, it wouldn’t stab any internal organs, and the Flames would be unable to remove it before its effect could take hold. You raise your hand and almost reach Lobo’s body, but suddenly you feel a sharp pain in your jaw and get knocked onto the floor with great force.

“Such cowardice… perhaps I should have disposed of you when we arrived at Farum Azula… The previous inhabitant of this body kept… interesting company.” Lobo’s arm bent back unnaturally after having hit you before you could do anything. You feel blood seep from your lips and to the floor. You try to stand up, but your head is still spinning from the hit. You see the light from the ceiling turn to shadow as a massive clawed hand blocks out the sun above you. You have to move, but your body won’t respond. You look at the floor as the seconds stretch to infinity and the shadows get darker. “I’m so sorry, Lobo… I… failed you….” You think, closing your eyes before a massive weight crashes into you.

….

Only it doesn’t crush your bones. You open your eyes and see the fingers twitch and curl right above you. The heat from them makes you feel like you’re in an oven, but you’re alive. You’ve been caged between them, the palm not being allowed to press its full weight against you. You reel from the shock, but then Briar’s shout brings you to your senses. “Do it, Viola!” From between the fingers, you spot the red figure of the fire witch casting a spell with her fan. You move, running between the long claws and out into the sunlight. The side of the pillar you had been hiding under explodes, letting the weight of it fall on the monstrous arm that tried to crush you. Lobo screams in pain. You try to ignore him as you rush to his side, needle in hand. “Sorry about this!” You say as you plunge the golden needle into Lobo’s neck. You grab onto his back as he screams in agony, trying to knock you off him. To your horror, he rips his trapped arm off. Letting his whole body be engulfed in flame by the wound where his arm used to be, taking you with him. Still, you hold on. Protecting the needle as you feel the flames lick at your skin. Briar and Viola can do nothing but stand by the side as Lobo continues to writhe and scream in pain as Flames of Ruin violently leave his body.

Eventually, he falls to his knees, staring up at the ceiling with a single blue eye. The sky has begun to darken, and it looks like it might rain soon. He’s silent, his voice still echoing in the halls. After a tense moment, he falls forward, his eyes closed and his body free of flame. You still hold on tight as Viola and Briar rush to your side. Although it’s weak, you can still hear Lobo’s heartbeat. You can’t move. You need to know he’s still alive. You need to convince yourself that you made it. The scent of his fur is familiar, that seaside smell that reminds you of a fun day at the beach with friends, only now a layer of smoke permeates it. Before you’re pulled away and inspected by his siblings, you briefly wonder if they all have a similar scent.

Viola casts a warm light above you, a flame that feels not unlike grace. It heals your bloody lip and invigorates you slowly. Once you feel strong enough to sit up from Briar’s arms, you check yourself over. It’s strange, but it only seems like your robes got burned. You touch your face, and your skin feels fine. “It seems like you’re okay.” Says Briar with a small smile. He looks at Lobo, who’s been flipped on his back, his head cradled in Viola’s lap as she continues to cast her healing spell. “He… He’ll be fine in no time… I-I just know it.”  The brown wolf says, trying to hide the hint of tears in his eye. You nod. He has to.

You move closer to your wolf. Viola ignores you as she concentrates on strengthening her spell, raising her arms to the flames as if warming herself up in a campfire. Lobo’s breathing is weak but steady. You grab his remaining hand. The right one. It’s cold as death. You stay like this for some time. Time holds little meaning as everyone waits with bated breath to see if Lobo will wake up. It’s harrowing. Even though you felt his heart beating, part of you still fears you’re too late. You’re about to pull away when Lobo finally opens his eye, turning to look at you. You smile at him, feeling tears spill from your eyes. “Hey….” You say, resisting the urge to embrace his weakened body. “Hey….” He smiles back, holding your hand tighter. You cry, letting all the worry and anxiety wash over you, yet you don’t stop smiling.

Briar scrambles to Viola and Lobo’s side, as teary-eyed as you are. “Lobo, estas bien….” He says, scooping him up into his arms and embracing him. “¡Ten cuidado, idota! Yo… ugh ¡muévete!” She scolds him, probably due to the brown wolf being too rough on Lobo, but then wraps her arms around Lobo as well. Trying very hard not to ruin her make-up with her tears. You look at Lobo, trapped in this group hug with his siblings. He’s still smiling, still grabbing onto your hand. He pulls you closer, and the four of you embrace.

You feel like maybe there will be a lot of crying and hugging these next few days, but you’re okay with that. You won, after all.

—----------------

After your battle to save Lobo was over, and you calmed down from all the excitement, you approached Maliketh, who had been miraculously just unconscious after Lobo kicked him. You supposed you might have had to kill him to free the rune of death, as you couldn’t think of any other way to unbind it, but Lobo approached Maliketh’s unconscious body and pressed something beneath the skin of his neck. “You… you removed it?!” You gasped as you saw the familiar golden needle sink into the other wolf’s skin. “Not quite. It’s more accurate to say it snapped in half from the heat. Half of it should be enough to release death from his sword, though.” He replied, brushing off your concerns. At least it doesn’t seem like the Flames of Ruin will be returning any time soon.

You saw as the Black Blade took its true form as the missing rune once held within the Elden Ring. A jagged, red shape that represented the rightful order of life and death. The rune of death was freed, and the Erdtree burned. The thorns that blocked your path will have burned away by now. If you wanted to, you could continue your journey to the Elden Ring, but you decide to wait for your partner to recover first. The flames did quite a number on his body. Lobo was now covered head to toe in burn marks, the most prominent one being the one that covered most of his left cheek and the area around his eye, leaving it blackened and exposed. Viola managed to heal most of the more serious ones, but especially on his arms and legs, his fur was now interrupted by bald patches of burnt skin. There’s, of course, the matter of his missing arm. Luckily it had not gotten infected by the time you’d managed to heal him, but now he could no longer hold his shield. Briar said he would attempt to make a prosthetic that would be; quote: even better than the arm he lost! Something that got him an exasperated sigh from Viola. Finally, and perhaps most bafflingly, now Lobo was unusually cold at all hours of the day. He shivers even while standing right next to the fire in your camp. Viola used her magic to try and normalize his body temperature, but it kept dropping naturally. Eventually, you settled on enchanting his clothing to keep him warm at all times, and Briar went hunting and skinned a gods damned Rune Bear to make him a cloak. It was as impressive as it was terrifying.

Life goes at a steady rhythm with three wolves to keep you company. Viola and Briar set up their tent next to Tetsu’s Rise (It shocked you how big and furnished it is on the inside, it must have been enchanted to allow that), and you share most evenings by the campfire. Lobo gradually returns to his regular self, happy to have his siblings around no matter how many pointless arguments they spark. Viola is kind enough to teach you the basics of fire sorcery, and while Lobo is still too weak to go fishing, Briar takes it upon himself to hunt wild game around the area to keep you fed. Around the back of the tower, you set up a small workshop for Lobo’s siblings to work on his prosthetic. Viola handles most of the design and logistics of the apparatus, while Briar tweaks the bronze and steel to perfection. Probably the only time you get to see them get along for prolonged periods.

You… well, you’re just content to be able to sleep with Lobo again. Running your hands over the curvy shape of his body was something you’d missed dearly. He’s alive and safe, even if he lost a few body parts. That’s why it shocks you to wake up without him by your side. Odd, now where did Lobo wander off to? You step out of the tower to find Viola sitting by the campfire, cradling a familiar orb of fire in her hands. “Good morning.” She says, not looking up. Before you can question her about Lobo’s whereabouts, she answers without being told. “My brother took his mare out for a stroll. If you want to join him, he’s wandering by the side of the Bellum Highway.” You scratch your cheek, feeling awkward at being left behind so suddenly. Usually, Lobo lets you know whenever he goes out. “Why the Bellum Highway?” You ask the witch, who dispels the orb and looks up at you. “I believe he might not have wanted me to know that, considering he told me he was taking the horse to Iji the Blacksmith.” She looks back at the campfire, a dark look crossing her eyes as she mutters. “It’s close to where she died, did you know? I think… no, forgive me. Lobo deserves to have his privacy too.” You nod, though there’s a knot of worry at the pit of your stomach. Bellum Highway was close to where Lobo’s Mother died? “I… I might go out too.” You say, causing Viola to smirk at you. “Right… well, bring me some Wolf’s Bane from there if you can, hmm? It doesn’t grow anywhere else in Liurnia after all.”

—----------------

You avoid the Knights of the Cuckoo that wander the highway, riding Paper Moon close to the edges of the woods to see if you can spot Lobo or Private Dancer anywhere. Eventually, you spot some Wolf’s Bane in the distance, stuck between thorny bushes. You approach, careful not to injure yourself or your horse on the thorns, when you notice something behind the tall bushes. A hint of a pure white mane, Lobo’s horse! You look for a way to get past the thorny wall. If Lobo managed to get his horse past it, so could you. The thorns stretch out circularly between stony outcroppings. Guarding a secret something in the middle. You’re almost the whole way around when you spot some more Wolf’s Bane sticking through the thorns, and more importantly, you see the earth beneath them give way and form a tunnel underneath the bushes large enough for a horse to pass through.

You dismount and grab Paper Moon by the reigns, leading him into the small passage. Above you, the sunlight peeks between the branches, and a sweet, apple-like scent can be felt coming from them. Your horse snorts, not too pleased with being squeezed under a bunch of thorns. You’d rather not leave him outside, however, not with the Knights of the Cuckoo wandering about. You reach the light at the other end of the tunnel, and for a moment, you have to shield your eyes from the bright visage that expands in front of you. It’s… stunning.

White flowers stretch in every direction within the confines of the thorny perimeter. Enclosing a tall stone marker in the very center. Tiny white ones, with many little petals, clump together to cover the grounds, leaving no grass in sight. Between the little ones, you spot taller flowers that stand elegantly on their own near the shade the thorns provide. Pure white with beautiful round petals. They give off a sweet scent, like candy. You wish you knew more about flowers to better articulate your feelings, but you feel a strange sense of peace coming from this flower field. Though it would be more accurate to call it a garden. You wander through the flowers as you let Paper Moon trot over to his friend. They begin drinking from a small pond by the far end of the field.

It doesn’t take you too long to find Lobo stretched out between the flowers, eyes closed, and mouth relaxed into a gentle smile. When you stand next to him, he looks up at you, his smile growing a little bigger. “Hey….” You say, not hiding your own smile. “Hey… care to join me?” He says, patting the spot next to him. You take him up on his offer, laying your head on his arm, which he wraps around you as you enjoy the morning air that carries the scent of flowers. You stay like that for who knows how long, just enjoying each other’s company. The sun feels lovely on your skin, and the feeling of Lobo’s strong body reminds you of why you were fighting so hard in the first place. You could stay here for the rest of your life, letting the violence of the Lands Between become a distant memory.

“How did you find this place?” You ask your companion who stirs beneath you. When you look up at him, he looks away, embarrassed. “... you’re gonna think it’s dumb….” You continue staring with the most unamused face you can muster. Three, two, one. “Fiiine… I saw it in a dream… laugh it up, why don’t you?” You shake your head and sigh. As if having weird dreams was the strangest thing about him! “What was your dream about? If you don’t mind me asking.” He looks back at you, realizing you would not mock him for something like that. He stares at the clouds, perhaps remembering the dream in the shapes they take.  “... I was here… I don’t remember how I got here, but I was kneeling right before this big stone. I didn’t feel quite like myself… I was crying, just bawling for what felt like an eternity. I didn’t understand why being here made me so sad. I said something… maybe it was a prayer? Then I woke up… It wasn’t a pleasant dream, but I’ve been looking for this place since then.” He looks back down at you, and you can see his fangs poke through his lip as he smiles. “I’m glad I found it… and I’m glad you found me.” You kiss his chest, feeling his heartbeat underneath. “Me too.” You say, meaning it in every way possible.

The morning goes on, but neither of you moves. You stay in comfortable silence, enjoying the breeze that passes through the trees. “... I’m thinking of changing my name back to Aster….” Lobo says, kissing your forehead. His cold nose makes you jump a bit, but you chuckle at the feeling of his whiskers tickling your skin. You look up at him, wondering why he would bring up his name all of a sudden? Of course, the question must be evident on your face because he lets you know. “I was just remembering why I picked Lobo in the first place….” He plucks a tiny white flower and brings it up to the light. To examine and dissect things comes naturally to him, after all. “Aster flowers are so tiny. They don’t give off any scent and are often overshadowed by prettier and bigger plants. I thought that if I were not weak and tiny like that, maybe I could have done something to protect her….” He chuckles, the pain of remembering dimmed but not gone. “... What a dumb kid I was… Mother, she was the one who picked this name for me. The name Aster was beautiful to her, and she thought it fit me... In the language of flowers, they mean innocence, purity, faith, and love. While they have no scent, their roots, and stems can be used to relieve pain and heal wounds. And perhaps more importantly… someone thought Asters would be beautiful as decoration for this place. Mother’s final resting place….” You’re not really shocked at hearing that last part. The stone monument in the middle could only mean so many things.

Lobo, no, Aster looks down at you. In the corner of his eye, you spot a hint of tears. You bring your hand up and pet the side of his cheek. “... sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going. I had to get something….” He looks up to the stone, and you follow his gaze. Perched on the side of the stone lays a familiar blade. The golden details, once dim and stained with blood now scrubbed clean and polished until they shine with the light of the morning sun. The brutish edge of the blade was sharpened and cleaned to perfection. It looks elegant, guarding the garden even while its owner is gone. You remember the look of hatred in Aster’s eyes that fateful evening. That hatred is gone, replaced not with emptiness but with something more. ”... I think he would like it, Aster.” You say, happy that your partner can find hope after everything that transpired. Aster looks down and gives you that dopey smile you love so much. “... I think so too.”

—----------------

Time will pass, seasons will change, and you will reach the innermost parts of the Erdtree and discover the truth of what happened to Marika and the Golden Order. You will fix this broken land and take your place on the Elden Throne. The fallen leaves shall tell a story of a Tarnished that loved and lost, a Shadow bound by a curse that would tear a family apart, a witch who sought absolution in the stars, and a Wolven Tarnished freed from the yoke of fate by a Maden with no past. The Age of the Icebound Stars shall end, and your part in creating a world beyond the scope of light yet beyond the reach of dark shall begin. But for now, you’re content to stay here with your beloved.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Orpheus and Eurydice (A Maiden of the Stars Finale)

CW: For mourning and general icky eye stuff with deathroot.

This is the Finale of the Maden of the Stars Path. Thank you so much to everyone who has read up to here. I might to an epilogue of sorts later but for now, this is the end of this path. Stay tuned for the ending of the other one. It's a little short, but hopefully you guys like it.

—---------------

At the other end of Farum Azula, past a destroyed great bridge guarded by a Draconic Tree Sentinel, was Maliketh’s chamber. Since information about The Black Blade is so scarce, you don’t have much to go on making a plan of attack. You asked Ranni if she knew of any weaknesses, but she couldn’t think of anything useful. “The demi-gods did fear the Black Blade for a reason. Yes, even General Radahn would have bethought himself twice was he dared to face him in battle. His blade can sever the immortality of demi-gods and Tarnished warriors alike. To faceth him is to risketh true death.” She says as you approach the entrance. A wall of fog prevents you from seeing inside. “No wonder he was chosen to guard it. The odds seem stacked against us.” Ranni nods, wandering to the side of the building. You follow. ”After the Night of the Black Knives, I am afraid he shall not part with Destined Death willingly.” You sigh, leaning back against the wall. Ranni takes a seat on the railing of the bridge next to you.

“Is that all you know?” You say. “Does he have some sort of weakness we can exploit? He clearly isn’t infallible, but knowing he was tricked once doesn’t help in knowing how to beat him.” The witch shakes her head. “I apologize, but no. Thou wouldst know him far better than me at this point. The Beast Clergyman I sent thee to meet wast him, after all.” That’s… unsurprising. You’ve met the Gurranq more than a few times to feed him the disgusting Deathroot you often found near catacombs or whatnot. You had your suspicions about him (The ornate armor under his cloak spoke volumes about his true nature), but conversing with the shadow was almost impossible. He had brief moments of lucidity after his hunger diminished from partaking in the root. Those were fleeting, and he mostly just begged for more death to be brought, but sometimes he would comment on your appearance.  Not anything in particular, more saying that you looked familiar. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he was probably talking about your father. You had no chance to ever learn of his real name and title. Much less how to approach and defeat him.

You close your eye and cross your arms, letting the sound and feeling of wind rushing over your fur wash over you. You know little of Gurranq and even less of Maliketh, but you’re not without any information. Para resolver cualquier problema, un hombre debe solo observar y pensar. If you put together what little you know of Maliketh, you can find a way to overcome this obstacle.

Let’s begin with a simple question: Who is Maliketh? Well… Maliketh is Gurranq, is he not? He is the shadow-bound brother of Queen Marika and her half-brother. That means that for all his strength, he’s bound to the rules of the shadow-bound beasts. He can’t betray Marika’s will unless it contradicts that of the Greater Will, or can he?

That brings you to your next question: What is Marika’s will? You’ve actually been wondering this for some time. You were led to the Erdtree by grace, only to be spurned and forced to commit a cardinal sin. Furthermore, Marika is responsible for the shattering, possibly the greatest act of treason against the Greater Will besides the Night of the Black Knives. It seems that Marika and the Greater Will are at odds with each other. Based on your interactions with him, it wouldn’t appear he knows why Marika shattered the Elden Ring.

That would explain why he’s taking the side of Marika’s captors. We followed grace to the forge and committed a cardinal sin by Marika’s guidance. Maliketh can’t take your side until he’s free from the Greater Will’s influence. Luckily you have a needle at your disposal that can do just that.

Final question: What would happen if you free Maliketh from the Greater Will’s influence? It seems so obvious now. Perhaps you should have thought of this sooner. Once free, Maliketh will have to unbind destined death to know what happened to Marika. Thus letting you into the Erdtree. If you can appeal to his relationship with her, you can convince him to use the needle and help you get to her. It’s risky, but it’s worth a shot.

You relay your plan to Ranni, who looks at you with skepticism. “The Black Blade will not be inclined to talk. How shall thou convincest him to listen to thy words?” You shrug. That part is the dangerous part. “I can only try to appeal to him. If it doesn’t work, we will have to fight him anyway, won’t we?” The Witch looks down at her hands, hiding behind the brim of her hat. “Perhaps thou speakest the truth. Still… I beg of thee to return hale and whole.” More promises to maintain and more people you could disappoint, but it’s too late to stop. Might as well continue sinking deeper. “I will… Promise.” You say.

—---------------

“Wolven Tarnished, why wouldst thou... Why... T’is no matter. I hereby vow that Destined Death shall not be stolen again.” You feel a twinge of sadness upon hearing the betrayal in Gurranq’s voice, but you can’t get distracted. Using your regular voice, you speak to the shadow as he approaches. “I don’t intend on stealing Destined Death from you. I just want to talk.” Gurranq ignores you, swinging his dagger down at you. You wait until the last moment to bat it away with your shield, sending it flying and clattering against the floor. The shadow, now inches away from you, seems stunned into silence by this. You take the chance to continue speaking before he tries to attack again. “My partner died so I could be here. You knew her, she wanted to help you, and I intend to do the same if you’d let me… Please, just listen to what I have to say. There’s no reason to fight.” Gurranq retreats slightly, sharp claws and fangs still in full display, but at least he is not attacking you anymore.”.... then… speak, Tarnished.” He says, a low growl still rumbling beneath his voice.

So far, so good, although perhaps you underestimated how nerve-wracking this entire experience would be. Well, it’s too late to back out now. You take a deep breath and push on. “Why is Marika trapped inside the Erdtree, Gurranq? What happened to her after the shattering? Don’t you want to know?” You don’t wish to sacrifice any more people than you have to. Your partner cared for Gurranq, feeding him in his eternal hunger. While it may not have meant much to her, it does to you. The shadow slightly recoils at the mention of his master but does not respond. You continue. “Grace guided us here, to Farum Azula. To get past the thorns that block the entrance to the Erdtree would require burning them and unbinding Destined Death, but I don’t intend on sacrificing any more people. That is why you must choose of your own free will.” The Black Blade seems perplexed by your words. The low growl peters off, and his fangs retreat into his mouth. You extend your hand slowly and carefully, minding the unspoken warning. Upon seeing (or maybe smelling) the needle, he understands what you mean. “If you decide that you don’t want to know, then I will respect it. You shall not see me again, and my partner’s death shall be in vain. But no one else can choose for you. That’s the most important thing….”

Gurranq stays quiet. Through the holes in the roof, you see the last rays of sunlight start to vanish, ushering the night behind the clouds. The shadow looks down at his claws, grasping the stone beneath him. “... boorish, blunt… and yet kind all the same… thy father… I knew him… Thou art the same.” He says, breaking the silence. You get that a lot, but that’s not a bad thing. “The shadow bound… are not made to be loved, but we love anyway… that is our curse….” He pulls back the hood of his robe, revealing an ornate helm beneath. The true face of Maliketh, the Black Blade. “I wish to know… what remains of me… underneath this….” The helm clatters on the floor as Gurranq pulls it from his face. Beneath it, his eyes are sealed shut by the curse of death. Black veins trail from his eyelids and down his cheeks like tears. His pure white fur was stained grey by years of neglect. He bends his head down, showing the back of his neck to you. It’s clear what you have to do now. 

The shadow winces as you push the needle under his skin. Perhaps a little prick just isn’t anything compared to the hit of a blade, but it still hurts all the same. Gurranq stays impossibly still for a moment that stretches out impossibly long after. Patiently expecting something you’re not privy to. You’re about to say something when Gurranq’s voice breaks the silence. “... my hunger wast my sole companion… now, even it hath forsaken me… I t-thank thee….” His voice breaks as he hides his eyes behind a large clawed hand. You stand back and give him a moment as he lets his newfound freedom from punishment wash over him. Just how long had he been suffering alone? Millenia must have passed since the shattering and even longer since the night death was stolen. You remember your father, how his life was ruled by forces beyond his control; With some bitterness, you think that maybe he would have wanted to be freed as well. You look up into the night through the ruined ceiling. The moon is waning. Soon the new moon shall be upon you.

You shiver as the night air blows through. The scent of ash from the forge is carried by the wind up into the floating city… You can only hope your companion is free to enjoy the night, wherever she is at the moment. You’re about to talk to Gurranq when you notice something odd about the moon. It's as if it’s much closer than it should be. Almost like you could reach out and grab it from the sky by extending your hand. Perhaps you’ve finally gone insane, but the idea seems… tempting. Against your better judgment, you reach out and grab the silver lining of the moon. Surprisingly, it makes contact with your hand.

You pull down the waning moon, now revealed to be a rune. Ashen colored, with the left side widening into the silvery “C” shape that you’d been admiring just seconds earlier. From it, you sense the ash from the forge, embers hidden amongst the muted grey. You don’t know why looking at it makes you so sad. You pull it to your chest and hold back your tears. For a moment, you almost feel a familiar embrace. Just barely.

“I miss you so much.” You whisper, hoping your words will be carried by the wind.

—--------------------

Time passed, seasons changed, and your victory was forgone after that eventful evening. With the Black Blade by your side, the innards of the Erdtree spilled open, the dark secrets held inside exposed for everyone to examine. The Golden Order, a dissected corpse set on a table. The fallen leaves would tell a story. A Wolven Tarnished, bound by the yoke of fate, led to a cold and dark path. A Maiden with no past whose life was spent for the new age to come. A mending rune shaped like the moon, made to allow fate to side with those whose actions are just. An era where fate would not be twisted again by the whims of those whose ambitions would bind others into servitude. The Age of the Icebound Stars has ended, and your part in weaving the Chill Night into being has just begun.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Ariadne and Asterius (A Champion of Embers continuation)

CW: Depictions of dead people in different states of mutilation. Not gratuitous, but still be warned. Also discussions of martyrdom and self-sacrifice ahoy.

This is a continuation of Pollux which branches off from Thanatos' ending. If you haven't read it, then this will not make sense. Sorry for the wait, but I've been really busy with school. Hopefully now that things have calmed down I can get back to writing more.

—-----------------------

When you wake up, you’re somewhere you’ve never seen before. There’s a constant rushing of wind in your ears, and you can feel the cold aged stone beneath you. Out of habit, you look around and expect to see your companion sleeping beside you, but the quarter-wolf is nowhere to be found. Looking behind you, you discern the erdtree in the distance. The golden light of its leaves contrasts with the reddish flames that eat away at them. The erdtree is burning at last, but it won’t last if destined death is not found. You stand up, brushing the dust from your robes. There’s only one path to follow ahead of you, and while you appreciate the straightforwardness, you can’t ignore the nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach. Did Lobo go on ahead? If the plan was successful, why didn’t he wait for you to wake up? Unless… You shudder to think about it. Was Lobo consumed by the flames after all? No! This isn’t how things were supposed to go! He has to be somewhere around here. He would never just… abandon you like that. But if that’s the case, then where did he go? Before you can panic further, a quiet, slightly muffled voice calls out to you from somewhere.

“… Art thou planning on standing here until sundown?” It's Ranni’s voice. You turn around, expecting to see the witch sitting behind you, but there’s no one in sight. “Ranni?” You ask before you hear the voice again, coming from somewhere close. “I am in thine robes.” You reach into your robes and grab something small and cold. The miniature Ranni doll Lobo gave you, only this time, it's talking. The little witch adjusts her hat in your hand, not happy to have been jostled around so much. You shouldn’t be surprised by this; Ranni’s body is just a bigger version of this doll.

“Thou wert slumbering for far longer than we expected. Aster hath departeth already in an attempt to keep thee safe.” The Doll says, shifting in your grasp. You take the hint and let her sit in the palm of your hand. You let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad he’s alive, at least.” You say, but the doll in your hand doesn’t share your enthusiasm. “Alive perhaps, but not for much longer, I fear. If we do nothing, he shall becometh no more than a puppet for the flames.” You stare. The doll hides her face under the brim of her hat, but you flick it off, and it flies away with the wind. She looks… ashamed? Not the embarrassed type of shame, but that deep shame that sinks into your bones. “… Aster kneweth the danger. The Flames were dim enough that he hath a chance of taming them and having them become his. I warned him that If he were to fail, the Flames would eat away at his sanity. Tearing his soul apart to sustain themselves. He agreed to do so anyway, on the condition that I protect thee if something were to happen.”

You remember the giant you fought by the forge. The way it mangled itself in an attempt to protect the flames. Will that be Lobo’s fate from now on? Just forced to defend the embers of a fell god? You… You couldn’t allow that! “Then, what can we do?” You say, catching the attention of the crestfallen doll in your hand. “Thy path to the Elden Throne is clear, and sacrifices cannot be avoided. Even still, is thine intent to pursue Aster, ignoring his wishes to keep thee safe?” You nod. There’s no way you’re leaving him to be destroyed like that. You chose to live, and so should your companion. To think otherwise would be ludicrous. “Lobo is still alive and fighting out there. I can’t give up when he needs my help.”

Ranni stares back. She’s cliff-faced, but you sense something stir behind her eyes. Wordlessly she puts two hands over her shoulder and pulls at something embedded between the joints. It would be horrifying if she wasn’t made of ceramic and twine. “… just as he said. Thou wouldst never abandon him. Yet t’is a duty he did not wish to forceth upon thee. That is why he hid this.” Out of her shoulder comes a golden sheen. A needle similar to one you’ve seen before, only this one is far more intricate. She pulls it out completely, feeling no pain from the removal, and extends it to you. You let it fall into your empty palm. The pale sunlight that passes through the clouds reflects off the gilded surface. “I shall admit that perhaps I underestimated thee. Even the Demi-Gods wouldst have abandoned a compatriot for lesser causes.” Ranni says, readjusting her robes. “Take the needle, and deliver Aster from his torment. Before hope withers at last….” You place it in your pack carefully. It would be unforgivable to lose this thing. “I will. Thank you… for the help.” The doll bows, and as she begins to fade away, she says. “Goodbye… my Elden Lord….” It wisps out of your hand, fading away into cold mist.

You turn around and run ahead into the crumbling city. There’s no time to waste. Your wolf is waiting for you.

—-----------------

You wander through the empty chambers of Farum Azula, expecting to find the Demi-Humans that supposedly originated from here, though you mostly find their corpses. Charred and mangled, their limbs contorted unnaturally and their eyes wide with fear. They look to have been ripped apart by a creature rather than a man. Deep gashes made by claw, the smoldering fur leaves a rank taste in the air. If you didn’t know any better, you might have suspected one of the many dragons that fly around in the storm. Looking at them makes you sick. You push on, jumping down a path made from floating stone and down a staircase that passes too close for comfort to the raging storm at the crumbling city’s center. Ahead there’s a dead dragon, another unexplained casualty.

“¿Algún idea de dónde está?” You hear a gruff voice say up ahead. Is that the Medían tounge? “No… Maldita sea. Ya no puedo determinar su presencia con precisión, solo sé que está aquí.” Another voice responds this time a woman’s. You don’t know what they’re saying, but if they speak Medían, could they be…? You approach carefully as the man speaks once more. “Hmmm… Tampoco puedo olerlo. Al menos, no entre todo este olor a Demi-Humano chamuscado. ¿No crees que la chica de sombrero blanco se equivocó?” You finally spot the speaker as you turn the corner around the mangled corpse of the dragon, not unlike the Demi-Humans you saw earlier. It’s another Quarter-Wolf! Two, to be exact. “No. Su presencia esta indudablemente en este lugar. Tan solo no puedo dilucidar donde con precisión. Oh, mi querido hermano… ¿dónde te has desvanecido?” The woman says. She’s a pure white-furred quarter-wolf, wearing a striking red and black dress that reminds you of a blooming flower. Its elegance contrasts starkly with the bleak surroundings. She faces away from you as she holds an orb of flame in her hands, peering into it as though it were a crystal ball. “¿Segura que no está jodido ese cacharro? Igual con tanto Demi-Humano por aquí, te has confundido y has visto un clon de Lobo.” The man is a brown-furred quarter-wolf. He’s more physically imposing than your wolf. Built like a brick wall, he has a very prominent scar over the side of his muzzle. His armor is ornate and nicely cared for, in contrast to the intimidating visage of its owner��s face and the bulky battle axe and Greatshield in his back. A fluffy furred cloak covers one shoulder, giving him an almost regal look. The woman, seemingly offended by the man’s words, dispels the orb and turns in a rather overdramatic fashion to face him. “¡Asi no es cómo funciona, imbécil! Además, a diferencia de ti, yo nunca cometería un error tan- Oh, Hello there.”

The woman sees you right as she turns to face her companion. You jump a little as suddenly you have two people staring at you with curiosity. “Oh! Umm, sorry for eavesdropping, but… umm, Do you know a man named Lobo? I’m looking for him too.” You say, feeling a little put on the spot. With two quarter-wolves staring intently at you, it's hard to introduce yourself properly. Maybe you made a mistake, and these two have nothing to do with your wolf. You’re about to excuse yourself when the brown wolf grabs you by the shoulders. You almost reach for your rapier when he starts… sniffing you. To her credit, the woman looks absolutely mortified that her companion would be so… uh… bold? His grip is not particularly rough, but it's still a little uncomfortable. You could get out of it if you wanted to, but (and this is strange to say) it reminds you of your own wolf, so you let it continue. “Hmmm… yep, Lobo definitely knows this one. Sorry, I just had to make sure, but you’re Lobo’s friend! It’s nice to finally meet you.” The man says before being pulled away by the white wolf.

“Briar te juro que- I apologize for my brother’s lack of tact. My name is Viola, though you may also know me as Dahlia the Fire Witch. I’m not picky about names.” She bops the brown wolf on the nose with her folded fan, causing the other to recoil and frown at her. “And this brutish hooligan is my brother, Sir Valerio, Knight of the Medían Vanguard.” The brown wolf scratches the back of his head in embarrassment. It gives you a sense of deja vu. “Just Briar is fine. We’re Lobo, or I guess Aster’s siblings. We came looking for him after we received that letter he sent.” Oh, that’s right. Lobo wrote a letter back home a while back. Though you’re surprised that his siblings would be able to track you all the way to Farum Azula. You introduce yourself, skirting around the fact that you don’t know your name, and let the siblings in on everything that has happened since the letter was written. From Lobo meeting with the princess, seeking council with the queen, going to Leyndell only to be spurned by the Erdtree, killing the Two Fingers, and finally, the events at the forge. You try to be as brief as possible, but it takes some explaining, some rationalizing, some pacing around, and at some point, Briar punches the mangled dragon in frustration.

“That’s why I need to find him. He’s still out there fighting the Flames; I just know it. I need your help to find him.” You conclude. Viola is fanning herself, seemingly lost in thought, while Briar looks quite upset by your story. “Well, the issue seems to be that Lobo’s soul has been warped somehow by the Flames of Ruin. While it has not killed him yet, it is making it rather difficult to find him through my magic. Not to mention he’s become quite dangerous now, as you can see by this… voluminous fellow over here.” Viola says, pointing at the dragon. You sigh. It couldn’t be that easy to find him, could it?

Besides you, Briar folds his arms, furrowing his brow. “Then can’t we just follow the corpses to find him?” That’s… not a bad idea at all. Viola seems to agree as she folds her fan, and a devilish little smile forms on her lips. “A splendid idea, isn’t it? Although, you only figured it out because I spelled half of it out for you.” She throws her arms up mockingly. Briar takes the bait, scoffing at the witch’s words. “Shut up! I don’t need your help to figure out something like that. Would it hurt you to praise me sometimes?” Viola laughs, putting her arms on her hips. “Now, why would I ever do that? My dear brother, we have to get going. There’s no time for praise.” With those final mocking words, she wanders off in the direction of the charred remains, Briar following behind, seemingly not done with the argument. These two might give you a headache, but you can’t deny that having them around gives you confidence. You will save Lobo no matter what. All that’s left is to reach him.

—-----------------

Apart from occasional squabbling over menial things (You could never have guessed that two people could argue for so long over the difference between a ladder and a stepladder.) Viola and Briar work surprisingly well as a team. Except for the occasional cometshard you fire at an unsuspecting Demi-Human, as far as fighting enemies is concerned, you’re left with nothing to do. Briar uses his size to send enemies flying after bashing them with his Greatshield, sometimes even grappling them by tossing his battle axe attached to a chain and pulling them closer. You almost feel bad for the poor Demi-humans as one tries to use its massive blade to crush Briar, but he grabs it by the throat and tosses it into the abyss below. While Viola is more content standing back, she does offer support by blasting enemies with orbs of fire she can summon. In Medía, Fire Sorceries are never cast with glintstone staves, only with one’s hands covered in silky gloves. It’s considered improper to do otherwise (or so the witch says). Either way, Briar’s shield and armor protect him quite well from the blasts, so he doesn’t have to worry about getting hit with a stray fireball. Admittedly you are curious about her sorceries, but you save your questions for after you have saved your lover.

While passing near yet another mangled dragon, you spot something rather peculiar. Something shiny stuck underneath a corpse wearing a beastly-looking set of armor. You move the body, muttering an apology to the deceased. That’s where you find a twisted little silver bell. This is Lobo’s! The waist of the bell is dented; part of it melted to the side by the intense heat applied to it. The clapper is still there, but the neck is crooked at a 45-degree angle, making the bell hard to hold. “What d’ya find there?” Briar leans over you to look at the bell. You carefully hand it to him, and he rings it. Surprisingly the noise is still mostly clear, but the tone is off. “It’s for summoning spirits… I- gave it to Lobo to keep him safe… Guess it didn’t do a good job.” You explain to Briar, who looks it over from every angle. Running his finger over the dent, pondering something. He hands it back to you and then hesitates to speak. “Ah… I could probably try and fix it. W-When we get back to the camp, I mean.” He looks away, and you spot a slight blush through his thinner fur. You look down at the bell and then up at the gruff mountain of a man blushing before you. “You can fix it?” You ask, a little… skeptical. “Y-Yeah, I can… you got a problem with that?” He stares at you, probably going for intimidating, but it turns out just a little cute, enough that you can’t help but genuinely smile. “Thank you. It would mean a lot to me to be able to return this to him. ” It looks like Lobo’s siblings share his kindness after all. Briar is a little caught off guard before he deflects by looking away. “… y-you’re welcome. Now, let’s get going, okay? He’s waiting for us.” You nod and return to the path with him, putting the broken bell in your pack. Viola, who had been admiring the brutish architecture, gives you a kind smile upon seeing your return. “I take it you found something important. At least, that’s what I gathered from here.” This woman’s hearing is dangerous. She was over 10 meters away, and you were not yelling. You nod, trying not to think about it too hard. “Well, my brother here may look unreliable, but he’s the most skilled craftsman in all of Medía.” Briar is back to blushing, though he also looks a little annoyed. “Man, it kinda pisses me off when you say it like that, but… thanks.” Viola shrugs, looking at the road ahead. “No need to thank me, it's the truth. Now let’s get going.” You and Briar nod, continuing your search for Lobo.

It’s not long until you arrive at the deepest reaches of Farum Azula. A great bridge connects you to a circular chamber, a temple perhaps. You spot a Draconic Tree Sentinel, or rather what’s left of one, by the gates. Deep gashes ripped him and his horse to shreds, the corpse stinking of burnt flesh and hair. The heavy plating on the armor has been twisted by fire and immense strength. It might as well not have been there for all the protection it offered its user. You try not to fixate on the details, but you can’t help but think that Lobo might have taken the opportunity to give you an anatomy lesson. Considering this man’s GI tract is on full display and all. Gross. That’s it; no more looking at the corpse. Find something else to gawk at.

“Oh? Hey, the sun’s coming out.” You point out to your companions, trying to pretend you were not just eyeing a corpse a few moments ago. “The Dragons went away too. Did something happen?” Briar says, looking up at the clear blue skies. You can still feel the winds, but the storm in the middle of Farum Azula seems almost calmer now. It should make you feel safer, but it's enough to make you uneasy. It’s like the storm is intimidated by what you’ve been chasing. That’s a bad sign. “It’s growing in power. I can sense it inside.” Viola seems to share your unease, fanning herself hurriedly while looking into the temple. “All magic came from the cosmos, and fire is no exception. This clear blue sky is a message: My power can bend the very skies you live under. The moon and the stars can save you no longer…. Or at least that’s what I believe it means.” She shuts the fan with a thwack, now addressing you and Briar. “What is our plan of attack? I hope I don’t need to tell you, but we should avoid fratricide as much as possible. That goes both ways.” You pull out the golden needle Ranni gave you. Viola and Briar stare at it as you show it off. In the sunlight, the intricate golden details shimmer like sea sparkle. “If I can put this under his skin, I can get rid of the Flames without hurting him. The only problem would be getting close in the first place.” You explain, but Viola chimes in. “That’s not the only thing to be concerned about. Lobo is under the control of the Flames of Ruin. If they see you’re avoiding hurting him, they might use him as a human shield of sorts. Injuring him as a dissuasion method.”

You hadn’t considered that, but she has a point. Right now, Lobo’s life is in danger. If only you could face him without having to fight him. “Then, why can’t we just pretend to fight him while someone sneaks up from behind?” Briar says, which causes you and Viola to stare. He blushes and looks down, embarrassed. “Sorry, that’s probably not-” Viola interrupts him. “A wonderful suggestion, brother! You really are good at making plans after all, see?” She smiles. It’s sincere, though she’s also toying with him. “See, you say nice things, but I still feel like you’re mocking me.” Briar scoffs, but he seems content. You chime in. “Okay then, I’ll be doing the sneaking, and the two of you can distract him. If I approach from the left, he won’t be able to see me. Then we can….”

You would save Lobo. No matter what it took, you would rescue him from this punishment. A happy ending is worth fighting for, and you will make sure Lobo sees this new world you’ll create together. Right now, you just need to be strong.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

In Honor of a friend who's Birthday is today I made them this funky chart that shows how I think each character would throw you a surprise birthday party. I hope you like this 🥰

I like most of the placements (though there are some that I struggled with) and I'm overall very happy with how it turned out.

AXIS DESCRIPTIONS:

- Party size: How many people can you expect to see at your party?

- Amount of Planning: Just how long have they been cooking things up? (does not nesesarily reflect on party quality)

- Gift Bouginess: How expensive of a gift are they getting you?

- Event Classiness: What's the vibe at the party? (Is it 5 star restaurant or random bar)

Notes:

- I think Lobo in general would opt to take you out somewhere fun rather than making a big event. Going to a picnic type deal.

- Briar is absolutely making you the gift himself. He knows how to embroider and knit so you can expect some scarves, mittens and hats.

- Viola has no chill, she's asking you what your favorite celeb is and BRINGING THEM HERE. All so you never question who's your favorite 🤭

- Blaidd was raised by nobility so I could see him leaning into the Red Carpet side more, but I also see him as being generally more of a private dinner date kind of guy.

- Faolán is similar in that I also think he would pull you aside to have some alone time, but otherwise is throwing a lovely dinner party (where somebody might get murdered 👀)

- I don't know that much about Aisling and Eoghan so theirs is mostly interpretation.

- Ranni might throw a classy party but it's boring as hell.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Apollo and Artemis (A Maiden of the Stars continuation)

CW: Blood, Self-harm (kinda), Mentions of parental and Twonished death. Also, just general body horror relating to the demi-human population of Farum Azula.

This is a continuation of the Maiden of the Stars path, which starts with Castor. If you have not read that one, then this one won't make sense. Also apologies in advance for posting to the sad path first. The next upload should be the next part of the Champion of Embers path so get excited for that.

-------------

When you wake up, you’re somewhere you’ve never seen before. There’s a constant rushing of wind in your ears, and you can smell the scent of Demi-humans nearby. Out of habit, you look around and expect to see your companion sleeping beside you, but the woman is nowhere to be found. As much as you may try to forget or deny it happened, as much as your mind might play tricks on you, she’s dead. There’s a sick feeling building in your throat, and your legs won’t obey when you try You’re left staring at the ground, watching your tears wet the stone beneath you. She’s gone… truly gone, Yet another person you failed to save. You tried keeping things together for your love, to give her a proper goodbye. Now that you’re alone, all the feelings come rushing out of you. Your hand curls into a fist, and you pound the ground repeatedly. You know there’s no point. She went on her own terms, and there’s nothing you could have done, but the pain you feel in your heart is still there. This is the only thing you can think to do. There’s nothing else. You scream at the top of your lungs, probably scaring some creatures wandering nearby. You’ve always been mindful of the natural volume of your voice, but just this once, you’ll let the feelings be ripped out of you in whatever pathetic shape it may take.

When you calm down, your hand is bloodied, and your throat is sore. No matter how much you may wish to curl up and let the world pass you by, you need to keep going. It’s the only way you can keep your promises to the dead. You won’t let what happened with your mother repeat itself. That’s not what she would want. You stand up, your feet still uneasy, and the world sways like a boat on a storm. You spot a path up ahead, leading further into the destroyed city. Only one way to go All you have to do is keep moving forward. You take one step. You almost trip, but you keep going. You take another, and another, and another. You keep going… and you don’t look back.

You fall gracelessly from one floating chunk of road to another. It leads onto an ancient path passing close to the storm raging in the very heart of Farum Azula. As you step into the ruined halls of Crumbling Farum Azula, you pass by piles of Demi-Human corpses littered haphazardly in every corner. Frozen solid, jagged ice crystals burst through the flesh, and the arms clinging to their brutish weapons remain poised to attack even in death. The path of destruction continues into the room ahead. You sense her presence. What is she doing here?

—--------------

It was a surprise to feel her approach you at the Moonlight Altar. Even more when she brought up your father. You were half expecting the other shoe to drop when she started apologizing. You might have told her to pack up her 10-rune apology and get to the part where she asks something of you, but it felt like a step back to do so now that you decided to put your mother’s death behind you. Besides, you didn’t just kill a father, but also a brother. Ranni had as much of a right to demand justice as you did. Yet here she was, actually admitting fault for her actions. 9-year-old-you would have never thought he would see the day.

“… I hath forgotten that Blaidd wast my brother before being my shadow. I believed in my desperation for the Age of Stars to cometh that any sacrifice wouldst be worth the coming freedom. Blaidd’s fate wast to die for me… I did accept that fact once I took the dark path of the empyrean.” Ranni said. You both sat side by side on the stairs near the entrance to the ruined chapel. “When she came to me and confronted me over my callousness with his life, I only thought her a fool. What woudst she knoweth of fate? Blaidd’s feelings on the matter were irrelevant. Now, however, I understand….” She looks… tired, perhaps. Ranni’s presence always makes her look bigger than she is, larger than life, a demi-god trapped under ceramic and twine. Now, she appears so tiny and frail, like a discarded toy someone abandoned. “Blaidd’s heart wouldst always belongeth to her. The mind couldst be broken, the soul torn apart, but the heart longed to return by her side. His mind couldst never conceive of treason, yet her death destroyeth him in a way he wouldst never recover from. And I… I chose to ignore it. What he wanted… was irrelevant.” The witch stared at you, not hiding behind the brim of her hat for once. “Perhaps, I merely chooseth to forget my love for my brother, that I wouldst think his suffering to be inevitable, that’s why when thine companion brought this to me, I was awash with… guilt.” From her cloak, she pulled out a tiny golden thing glimmering in the moonlight. A needle. Your lover did mention something of the sort being given to her by the queen. “This trinket wouldst hath freed him to pursueth her, and yet in my doggedness to find absolution in the stars, I didst not think to look beyond that which was right before mine eyes. Hath I fought for Blaidd’s fate, perhaps he wouldst be here still….”

Her ceramic features didn’t betray any emotion, but her voice sounded more pained than you had ever heard from her. If that was all an act, she damned well deserved an award. She looked down, hat hiding her expression, hands folded over her lap in an oddly demure fashion. “I doth not expect mine apology to abate thy hatred of me, nor do I expect thee to acceptest it. Thy mother paid the price for my foolishness. She gave up her life to protecteth the brother I forsook. I cannot give her back, nor the childhood I robbed from thee and thine siblings… I hope that I can at least help in thine endeavors, for there is naught else I can do to repair what has been broken by mine hand….” The witch didn’t look up, and silence fell between you. You were hesitant to say anything, not because you had nothing to say but because her confession left you with several disparate thoughts. As the silence became uncomfortable, you decided that saying the first thing that came to your mind would be better than saying nothing.

The two of you talked about a lot of things that night. That was how you learned of your partner’s destiny. How you came up with your attempt to save her. It was desperate, and you’re still unsure if your plan would have worked, but you needed to do something. Ranni had told you it was better to do the scheme without telling her, but you didn’t want that. She needed a chance to choose, at least. You might have kept other things secret, but Ranni wouldn’t budge on those.

“… I don’t hate you.” You uttered, inwardly wishing you were better with words once she stared up at you with an unknowable stare. Regardless of how uncomfortable you were, you kept going. “… And, well, I don’t think you should be expected to carry all the blame. Father died because of me… that’s undeniable. You may not be able to return my lost childhood or mother to me, but I robbed you of telling your brother all of this yourself… I think… Yeah, let’s just call it even.” It’s better this way. Ranni… if she felt the way she said, you would forgive her. It doesn’t make it right, but… If there’s any hope for absolution to be yours, then it would only be fair to grant her an opportunity to change. Ranni stayed quiet, her brim hiding her expression from view. You wondered if maybe you said something dumb before she removed the hat, revealing the delicate features of her doll. Her eyes, incapable of tears, felt adrift with the most emotion you’ve seen from the princess, while her mouth was quirked up, amused by the bluntness of your words. “... Hath anyone told thee thou art strange?” You nodded, feeling yourself smile a little at the interaction. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” She laughed (and it absolutely caught you off guard how normal it all is.)

Well, none of that matters any longer, does it? Then why can’t you stop thinking about it?

—--------------

You find Ranni just a few rooms ahead, past a Site of Lost Grace, more Demi-human corpses left in her wake. She stands by the frozen corpse of an unfortunate dragon, her staff still gleaming with the cold magic that delivered the swift but brutal death to the creature. Its limbs were mangled by the ice crystals that ruptured from beneath the skin. The wings ruptured and bent at an uncomfortable-looking angle. However, you’re not impressed by the violent display of Ranni’s power. Demi-gods love to show off, don’t they?

Ranni senses your approach and turns towards you, grabbing the rim of her hat with one of her left hands as the storm threatens to blow it away. “Hey….” You say rather awkwardly. You were not expecting to meet like this again, even less so now that the plan failed. What could you even say? Luckily, she understands your predicament and does the greetings by herself. “I was looking for thee… I’m glad thou art well, even if perhaps the circumstances aren’t so joyful.” She makes eye contact with you. Her expression is inscrutable. “I am sorry I could not help thee after all….” She says. You shake your head and look into the raging storm slowly devouring this ancient city. “What are apologizing for? There’s nothing you or I could have done differently, is there?” You instinctively grip your bandaged hand. It stings, but it’s healing. No matter how much you may be tempted to obsess over it, this was her choice. Ranni can’t take fault for it. Nobody can. The witch stands beside you, staring into the storm as well. You both stay quiet for a long time. There’s nothing else to say. You’ll have to make peace with it, no matter how difficult. It's what she would want.

There’s something you need to hand back to her. You pull the little doll out of your pack. A keepsake Ranni gave you before your visit to the Haligtree. It was supposed to protect your love in case the plan went awry. If you couldn’t control the flames of ruin. You twisted the doll’s neck; it snapped with a crack of ceramic and twine. You turned the body upside down, and from the hollow inside came tumbling the golden needle you were looking for. Talking through the doll, Ranni had asked you to complete the Unalloyed Gold Needle she had been given by your companion as part of the plan. It proved easy enough to find the massive Scarlet Aeonia planted in the deepest roots of Miquella’s sacred tree. Even easier to sink it into its pinkish flesh and let it absorb the essence of rot. With it completed, your companion would have a way to fight you if you fell under the flames’ control. Although now it's mostly useless.

She eyes your hand as you give the Needle back to her. The witch gingerly takes it with delicate porcelain fingers and stores it somewhere under her robes. “I thank thee.” She mutters, still weary of touching the subject of your botched plan. “What shalt thou doth now? Wilt thou continue thy search for Destined Death…?” You toss the doll and watch it as it's swept by the wind current and swallowed by the whirling tornado. At least this way, there will be no litter. Ranni doesn’t say anything, but you feel her icy glare more than you see it. You let a small smile form on your lips as you look at her. “Sorry, It was getting too tense here.” Your smile widens when she places her hand over her face in disappointment. For a mastermind responsible for the biggest tragedy of the Lands Between besides The Shattering, Ranni can be almost endearing sometimes. “And yes, that’s the plan. I’m getting to the Elden Throne no matter what. I have… I have a promise to fulfill.” The witch nods, pondering things over. “Then… wilt thou alloweth me to join thy company? There be some matters I wish to discuss, and… Maliketh the Black Blade is formidable. I doubt thou wouldst be able to vanquish him alone. I would rather be by thy side. At least… until hope hath fully withered.” Maliketh huh? The name doesn’t ring a bell, but something about the black blade part does make you uncomfortable. You know from experience how the rune of death can kill otherwise immortal beings like yourself. And well, being alone with your thoughts is the last thing you want to do right now. “Alright then, let’s go.” She nods, still holding onto her hat. The brim flapping like a sail. It’s a wonder she hasn’t been sent flying with that thing on.

The two of you walk together in silence into the crumbling halls of Farum Azula. You can’t help but wonder if… well, what would your mother think, seeing you making merry with the woman who destroyed the lives of everyone she loved? You hope that, from whichever heaven she’s in, she’s not too mad. Then again, Father would be with her, so it would be his duty to placate her if necessary.

—--------------

The road to Maliketh was pretty uneventful. Aside from a couple of ambush attempts by the Demi-Humans, the residents are too afraid of Ranni to do anything about her. There was a close shave when a Demi-Human caught you off guard by standing on your left, but you quickly cut it down before it could do anything. You’re still not used to having only one eye, so Ranni stands by your left and covers you from there. Better to be safe than sorry, after all.

The silence gives way to calm conversation as you wander through empty halls and jump between floating bits of road. The witch asks about your siblings and your life in the Republic. She asks about the life you left behind. You answer honestly, though it all seems so distant now. To think that your life could change drastically in less than a year. Although you find yourself pushing back the thoughts of how much your life changed less than a day ago. You can cry and punch the ground some more later. You have a promise to fulfill right now. So you try to distract yourself from the mundane. Wrangle your mind back when it wanders too far into the dark. Eventually, the topic of the Fingerslayer Blade comes up.

“Why does it continue to reject you? I thought it was your fate to wield it….” You ask as you jump down a small ledge. Then you reach up and extend your hand to Ranni, who grabs it and descends carefully. “Mine destiny hath become entangled. It hath been so since… that night.” You can sense the discomfort in her voice, so you motion at her to keep going. ”Hath thee ever felt our bond? Through the blood of my brother, we art bound together as shadow and master are.” Your bond. Why of course, you’ve felt it. That cold aura that follows her tells you where she is even if you can’t see her. You nod as the both of you wander through an empty corridor. It appears to be a mansion or a cathedral of sorts. Ranni continues her explanation. “The fate of a shadow is bound to its master's. From the moment of thy birth, the curse which Blaidd held was replicated within thee. Both thy destiny and mine own became entwined. That is why the Blade chose thee. Why I may not wield it anymore.” It doesn’t make much sense to you. There’s the talk of fate again, always rearing its ugly head when you least expect it. You feel uncomfortable thinking of the implications. If you were fated to wield the blade, would that mean you were destined to return to the Lands Between? Were your parents’ deaths also part of this cosmic plan? Was her death predestined as well? You shake your head. “That’s nonsense. I already used the Fingerslayer Blade. Why would it continue to reject you?” Ranni hides her expression behind the brim of her hat, but you bend down under it to counteract it. Beneath it, her face looks concerned (and annoyed at your intrusion). “I did think that perchance slaying the Fingers would set thy destiny free. Thus, I could venture unto the stars and stop the meddling of the outer gods. Yet it doth appear that our bond is held by another force, something that lurks unseen. If only I knew what it might be.” Something binding you to Ranni? Could it be…?

“… An oath?” You say without thinking. Ranni’s eyes widen just a little, and you can see the gears turning behind the pupils. “Why?… yes. Yes, that doth make sense. I have noticed thy blade is coated with similar magic to my brother’s, but could an oath be inherited like so?” You know the answer. That dream you had… it was Father passing his duties to you. Would getting rid of this oath free your fate? Is that even something you want at this point? “So you can’t weave the night into being until you get rid of this oath, huh?” Ranni nods. Looking a little gloomy. “The blade shall accept no other master. It doth grieve me sorely to ponder upon losing what little remains of Blaidd, but… it must be done. The Chill Night must come at last.” She’s determined to bring her era about. You hesitate, remembering that your partner asked something similar of you. The world is crooked, and Ranni might be one of the few remaining in this world who can set it right. Maybe that’s why it compels you to say what you say. “Then… let me join you.”

Ranni is shocked, and to her credit, she recovers surprisingly fast. A split second of widening eyes, followed by the calm and collected face you’ve grown accustomed to. “Aster… the cold dark path of the empyrean is mine to walk alone. Thou should knowest better than to makest promises thou cannot keepest.” You shake your head. Now the two of you are standing in the middle of a rounded staircase. Almost at eye level because of the elevation difference. “I am serious… Father gave me this oath. He believed in you, even after death. If you’re fighting to protect the Lands Between, let me grant his wish to help you, at least.” Be it the outer gods, the demi-gods, or the golden order itself. If you want to make the world as you would have liked your love to see it, to allow them to meddle in its affairs any further would be wrong. If the witch wishes to bring about change, you want to be a part of it. Ranni looks away, though she can’t hide behind the brim of her hat at eye level. You see her frown and then… a tiny grin. “… Made to vex me perhaps. Thou have certainly inherited thine stubbornness from thy mother.” She looks at you straight in the eye. You try not to think about how literal that expression is now that you only have one. “As thou wish… though I shall not tolerate any cold feet in the future.” You laugh, but you’re thankful. Now all that remains is to end this Destined Death business.

The road ahead might be lonely, but you’re not scared. All the people that have loved you. All the people whose wishes you will weave into the night sky. The memories of your time together will be the light that guides you in the cold darkness that looms. Then… when you meet again on the far shore, you can look at them with pride. You’ll be fine, maybe… just a little sad.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Thanatos (The final Icebound return)

CW: Mentions of martyrdom and Ocular Trauma. Also, someone's leg gets ripped off.

This is the final chapter of the main story of the Icebound series. From here it branches off to two other chapters. Hope you guys are into it.

Paper Moon's name is obviously a reference to It's Only A Paper Moon by Nat King Cole

The poem referenced is called A Late Walk by Robert Frost

Theme for Lobo’s determination as suggested by Sadness over in Ao3 land

EDIT: Edited sone things at the end for clarity

—---------------

When I go up through the mowing field,

The headless aftermath,

Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,

Half closes the garden path.

—----------------

The climb is bitter and cold, but it’s not particularly steep. The sheer cliffs that block your path can be walked around or climbed from another, much more accessible angle. It makes sense that it would be this way. The giants lived and built their civilization on these cliffs. Even with their size, they wouldn’t climb sheer cliffs daily. There were ancient paths buried beneath corpses and a layer of snow. All you need to do is follow the route hidden beneath your feet. You’ll reach the Flames of Ruin before sundown. Paper moon canters through the snow, his breath puffing into condensation and his hooves causing the snow beneath you to crunch. On the way up, you spot a building in ruins, surrounded by Fire Monks and their mooks. They’ve set up a wall of barricades around the path forward to prevent interlopers (i.e. people like you) from passing through and reaching the Flames. You hide behind the cliffs and review your options.

Plan A: You could fight your way through, carefully drawing the attention of the enemies out of their fortified position and into the open space. That could work, but you’re alone and outnumbered. While you could certainly take on a group of enemies with your spells, it’s unlikely that the bigger guys wouldn’t notice the scuffle right outside their gates. Besides, if your horse gets hurt, you’ll have to walk all the way to the Forge of the Giants. No, it’s better to do something else.

Plan B: You could rush through the camp on your horse and book it to the other side. Running away is always a valid strategy. Besides, you don’t spot any horses on the camp, so they won’t be able to follow you on foot. That sounds a lot better. Except the Fire Monks can shoot fire at you, and the Fire Prelates have that big explosion you’ve seen them use. You could try and weave your way between their projectiles, though not will all those barriers. You couldn’t forgive yourself if your horse got impaled.

That only leaves Plan C on the table. You mount Paper Moon once more and raise your staff above your head. A light colored as the night sky coalesces within the tip, and with a flick of the wrist, you release the effect. Your flesh and robes become nearly invisible against the bright cloudy sky and the snowy fields. The same vanishing magic takes hold of your horse, who doesn’t seem to notice anything is wrong. Unseen Form doesn’t grant invisibility. It just makes one harder to see. A useless spell in the hands of the novice sorcerer, its value is only visible to a true master. At least, that’s what the Queen said. Equipping a charm meant to silence your steps (A gift from an old snakey friend), you hope this is proof of your worthiness as a sorceress. Whatever that will mean once it’s all over.

You hold the reigns in one hand, maintaining the spell with your staff in the other. Your horse makes no noise as you carefully pass through the barriers and the wandering Thorn Sorcerers. If you get too close, they will likely notice you. Most of them seem unconcerned about the threat of invaders. They loaf about, sitting by the fires, only wandering in a mockery of patrol. You wonder if it would be different had they known they had an approaching invader or if security around the biggest threat to the Erdtree is always this lousy. You see the monks wander into the ruined building, in and out, at seemingly random intervals. Fire Monks have always seemed so strange to you. It's like they’re not fully there behind the eyes, and only their bodies march on without the soul. It’s creepy, but it’s also fascinating in its own right. Were you not stealth-ing around, you might have been tempted to see what’s inside the garrison they’re guarding. Next time maybe. Well, actually, no. Remember, there won’t be a next time. You purse your lips and push the thoughts out of your head. Right now, it’s not the time to get sad. You need to get to the Forge first, then you can cry as much as you want.

It’s a surprise to see, but the path ahead is made up of a vast chain. It’s a construction of the giants, no doubt. It’s thick enough to walk or gallop across, but you still don’t dare to look down. Your horse whinnies and you grab his reigns tighter as you steel your resolve to cross. The worst thing that could happen would be for Paper Moon to get spooked as you go over the chasm and knock you off into the depths below. The chain rattles, and some of the snow falls off. You hate this so much. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to go alone. After a short but intensely harrowing canter across, you reach a Site of Grace and decide to take a break. Maybe level up whatever stat would let you handle heights better.

—----------------

And when I come to the garden ground,

The whir of sober birds

Up from the tangle of withered weeds

Is sadder than any words.

—----------------

The way to the Forge is straightforward, but the sight of the path is unnerving. As far as the eye can see, the corpses of giants litter the hills. Their faces twisted in pain, their chests impaled through with stakes of living Erdtree wood as if the tree itself had done these giants in. Roots from their stakes stretched to cover them from head to toe, hiding the pale bluish skin beneath. You note, with some trepidation, the resemblance they hold to dear Iji. As the blacksmith explained, Trolls were the descendants of the giants who betrayed their own side, the flame of the fell god they once held within themselves having long since been snuffed out. Staring at the corpses in the field and remembering how the trolls are treated in the Lands Between, you’re not sure which fate is worse. You fight through more Fingercreepers and even some Trolls that still linger amongst the men (giants?) they once betrayed. Brandishing swords decorated with gold that has long since faded away. You decide that the sooner you reach the Forge, the better, as you see one fall to its knees and die after your Night Shard strikes its heart.

Continuing north, eventually, you would find another ravine separating you from a walled area ahead. You see another (luckily shorter) chain leading to an opening in the cliff face. Going through the hole and into the walled hillock, you’re confronted with the scent of smoke and the sight of embers flying in the wind. The trees here are charred black, their branches still and lifeless. To your left, you see the Forge, a large basin carved into the mountain chained to an outcropping on one side. Guarding the way is an imposing red-haired creature. A live giant, probably the last of its kind. It hasn’t noticed you, but if you approach the forge, he’s bound to attack you. You look at his weapon. It seems almost like a shield, except the giant holds it by the rim instead of the back. You hadn’t noticed it with the other giants’ corpses, but it has a nose and eyelids on its chest. Creepy. Its left leg is damaged, covered in a furred guard, but you can still see the scars underneath. You should focus your attacks on that part of its body. Having had enough of a look at the large and in charge fellow, you decide to inform him of your presence.

You cast Carian Phalanx above your head and then take aim with your Night Shards at the damaged leg you noticed earlier. The giant immediately reacts, bringing the disk down like a pail and kicking the snow with a shockwave. Paper Moon rushes through and heeds your order to jump before the wave can hit. Then running between the legs, you cast Carian Slicer to strike the weak point from your horse, activating the phalanx and driving the daggers into the giant’s leg. You dodge out of the way as it clutches its leg in pain, falling onto its knee before getting back up and attempting to swat you away with the back of its hand. It’s too slow for your horse, and it misses by a long shot when you run under it again and strike the leg once more, this time summoning a proper Carian greatsword to quickly slice it again before running away from its reach. It tries to stomp at you and bash you with its disk, but before it can do any damage, the guard on his leg breaks, revealing the exposed scarred flesh.

You’re almost feeling too cocky when the giant surprises you by rolling into you. You only have a couple of moments to lead your horse out of the way. Then it surprises you again by reaching into its abdomen, where a flaming mouth has opened. Gross. It sinks its fingers inside and pulls out the fire in its hand. Before it can get up, you run underneath its legs again and repeat the process of hitting its weak spot once more. It slides its leg away and catches you by dragging the edge of the disk against the ground, knocking you off your horse and sending you to face-first into the snow.

You don’t have time to complain as the giant uses the fire in his hand to cast an orb that flies slowly toward you. You run as fast as you can toward Paper Moon and get on top of him as he recovers from your previous strike. Luckily all of his legs are okay. He runs away from the flaming orb chasing you with a loud whinny. You lead him underneath the legs again, this time managing to dodge the giant’s attempt at batting you away with the disk and letting the flaming orb break against its weak leg. It bursts, setting the ground on fire and knocking the giant to its knees. You charge Loretta’s Greatbow and aim straight for the ankle. It lands between the giant’s fingers. The giant summons pillars of fire all around it, but with your distance, you shoot him once more in relative safety.

It flails its arms and screams in pain. It stands still for a moment, and you wonder what’s gotten into it before its injured leg slides to the side over the snow and folds in on itself. You almost hiss in sympathy. That has to hurt. The giant screams in pain and then reaches for the broken leg. You think for a moment that it might attempt to set it back and stand up again, but instead, it rips it off and then holds it above its head like a weapon with a yell. It holds the now flaming leg up into the sky. It tilts its head back, and the eye in the center of its chest slides open, revealing a swirling set of irises the color of flames. You’re so stunned by the display that you almost forget you’re fighting this thing. It starts to swing down and bring the flaming leg into the ground, so you rush between its legs once more. Keeping up the strategy that has carried you this far. But before you can do any real damage, the ground starts to shake, and you run away before pillars of fire begin spewing in every direction. You don’t wander too far since the giant is immobilized now, and when it starts shooting flames up into the sky, you take shelter underneath its body and cast Carian Greatsword into its back. It rolls away, but you chase it with Loretta’s Greatbow. You get a lucky shot, and it strikes directly into that swirling eye in the middle of its chest. It lets out one final scream before it falls to the side and fades into ash.

Silence falls over the field. Paper Moon nickers, shaking his mane. You pet the side of his head. “Thanks, bud… Now, let’s go wait for Lobo at the forge.” You owe Paper Moon some sugar cubes after that fight. Maybe there’s some left in spectral storage? As you canter over the chain (your fear forgotten after the commotion), you worry once more about what will happen once Lobo returns. This will be the last chance. You need to tell him about your true nature and what will be asked of you soon. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, but you feel anything but giddy.

—-----------------

A tree beside the wall stands bare,

But a leaf that lingered brown,

Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,

Comes softly rattling down.

—-----------------

You wonder if perhaps Lobo is doing it on purpose. He said that he wouldn’t take too long to return, but that was hours ago. The sun is about to set, and there’s still neither hair nor tail of him in sight. This isn’t helping to ease your nerves. You’ve been going over how you’re breaking the news to him.

it… it still hurts to think about it. Saying goodbye forever. What a cruel joke. You find your purpose, then it forces you to give up everything for the sake of the Lands Between. You shudder at the thought of death, of fading away forever. You know what dying feels like, but it’s never permanent. You’re always brought back through Grace, every wound mended, every bone is un-broken, only the memory of it remains. Now… now there would be no reason for you to be brought back. This is your final task. After this, there will be nothing else. You stare at the dull embers at the bottom of the forge, always fading but never gone. 

You’re scared, not for yourself, but for Lobo. What will become of him once you’re gone? You don’t want him to suffer the pain of losing someone he loves again. This time you wouldn’t be there for him. The thought just… breaks your heart. You said you wanted to face the truth of your past, and having Lobo by your side gave you strength. But now you have to stand on your own two feet, and you’re terrified.

You look away from the flames and into the darkness-covered mountaintops. The stars glimmer far more than anywhere else in the Lands Between. The skies here are free. You can see every constellation and galaxy from here. If anything good comes from burning the Erdtree down, it will be that the golden rays shall no longer obstruct the beautiful view up here. You took Paper Moon back to Sorcerer’s Isle, but maybe you could bring your horse back just to have someone to show this view to. Or better yet, Lobo could finally get here, and you could share this moment with him. He’s taking way too long, and you’re starting to worry. Did something happen to him?

You’re saved from another downward spiral by the sight of Pvt. Dancer carrying a familiar figure towards the chain that links the forge to the land. He dismounts, leaving his horse to wander off into the field while he walks over the chain up to you. Despite the precariousness of the maneuver and the wobbling of his steps, he makes it over to you just fine. Hale, though not whole. You bring your hands up to your mouth in shock at his appearance. “Lobo, what happened to your eye?!” His left eye is completely bandaged up. Not only that but he’s also got some bruises and cuts everywhere you look. He tilts his head, smiling that dumb smile of his, though you don’t miss how he winces in pain at the motion.

“I’m fine… Just… just a lucky shot.” He says calmly. You guess it’s for your sake, but he can’t hide the slightly shaken expression. You instinctively bring your hand to the bandaged area, but he winces away. “Sorry. Is it… bad?” You ask, and he shrugs, looking toward the dull ember of the forge. Lobo looks positively exhausted. “It’s not bad. It’s gone. I had to remove it.” You bring your hands over your mouth once more. It was less than a day, yet that’s all it took for Lobo to lose an eye. You’re starting to regret not going with him to Castle Sol, though you wonder what you could have done to prevent this. “I’m… I’m fine, by the way. It doesn’t hurt anymore, and I treated it before it got infected….” He says before a familiar look in his eyes (... eye) returns. The last time you saw it… was right before killing Lobo’s father. However, you sensed no hatred from him, just resolve. “Some dreams are worth losing an eye for.” He says firmly, a single pupil staring into yours. You would reprimand him for his recklessness, fuss over his wounds, or take him back to Sorcerer’s Isle to rest, but you know he will not listen. If he’s determined enough to bring himself over here with all his still-open wounds, you should at least be brave enough to discuss the matter you’ve been hiding from him. 

You look into the stars once more, asking them silently for guidance. Your lips feel dry, and every idea of how to start this conversation you thought of this afternoon leaves you. Lobo must have noticed your apprehension because he puts an arm across your body and pulls you into a side hug. “... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He whispers near your ear. This wonderful, terrible, gentle wolf has no idea. You bring a hand up to the right side of his face, turning to look at him. “You’re so mean….” You begin to say, ignoring the tears that trail down your cheeks. “This was hard enough for me to do already….”

Lobo tilts his head, not understanding what you mean. He carries a look of deep worry. “I’m really sorry… I… I should have been more careful… but I needed to do this. There was no other way.” You shake your head, pushing back a sob. He still doesn’t understand. Why does it have to be this way? “I’m… I’m not who you think I am. I’m not a tarnished warrior at all. My fate… lies in that fire over there….” You gesture towards the bottom of the forge. It will soon be your grave. “I’m a Finger Maiden, and the destiny of us all is to burn. I- I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…. I just- I wasn’t ready to say goodbye so soon!” You break down, bringing your palms over your eyes as you start openly sobbing. Instinctually, you turn away to try and hide your tears. You’re scum, absolutely. Here’s Lobo sacrificing life and limb for a future that could never come true, all because you were not brave enough to tell him the truth when you found out. You don’t know what reaction you expect out of him. Anger and confusion, possibly denial. That’s why you jump a little when he wraps his arms around you from behind, and with a calm and reassuring voice, he says. “Yeah, I know.”

You slowly tear your hands away from your face, blinking the tears away as you focus on Lobo’s gentle expression leaning over your shoulder. “You… what?” Before you can say anything else, he leans toward your face and licks your tears away. You’re more than confused. Maybe flabbergasted would be the correct term. If he knew about your true identity, what was that about dreams worth losing an eye for?! You pull him away by his snout, and he licks your fingers with a cheeky grin. You two are not on the same emotional wavelength right now. Tearing yourself away from him, you look him square in the eyes (eye, fuck!) and try to make your voice sound less like a broken mess. 

“You knew? Since when?” He points back over his shoulder in the general direction of Liurnia with his thumb. “Since we killed the fingers. I stayed to talk with Ranni, and she told me what you tried to hide.” He crosses his arms, looking down at the jagged rock below. “I was… a little hurt. I didn’t know why you wouldn’t trust me with knowledge about your destiny. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I couldn’t just stand by and let you die without a fight.” You hold his hand, and he looks up at you with that piercing gaze. “I’m sorry.” You say. “I didn’t know what to do… I kept looking for answers. I told myself I would keep looking for them so long as you were by my side, then once I found them, I ended up cowering in fear. I’m sorry for hiding things from you. I… I know that if my death helps the Lands Between, I should accept it and die in peace.” Lobo looks at you sympathetically, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “I forgive you and… well, I should apologize too. Ranni was the one who insisted on keeping our plan a secret. If I’d known you would be so upset, I would have brought it up sooner.”

… What plan? Lobo and Ranni… came up with a plan together? Last you knew those two couldn’t even hold a conversation, and yet they’re getting along enough to scheme together? Your confusion must be showing because Lobo calmly explains without you saying anything. “Please don’t look so shocked. Ranni… well, while we were up in the Moonlight Altar, she came to speak with me and apologized… for everything.” He looks up at the stars, still holding your hand. “I didn’t want to hear it at first, but then I thought about Father. What his final words were. He asked that I put pride aside and forgive before it’s too late.” Your companion shakes his head, frowning at the memory. “I didn’t get it. I didn’t know what he meant by forgiving and who I was supposed to forgive. It wasn’t until I made peace with Mother’s death that I realized he meant me.” He puts a hand on his chest. “I kept saying I wanted to let go, to leave all of this behind, but I kept dragging it along under the guise of righteous fury. The only way I’d be free would be to drop the grudges I held… for my sake.” You stare into his single remaining eye. 

“I forgave her, even if she doesn’t deserve it. That’s… yeah, I think that’s what Father would have wanted.” He scratches the back of his head, suddenly looking a little bashful. “Not that we’re friends or anything like that, but she did help me come up with the plan I mentioned.” You pull Lobo into your arms, and he hugs you tight. “I’m very proud of you, Lobo.” You say against his chest and smile a bit when you feel the movement of his tail wagging behind him.

“Now… what’s this plan you have in mind?” You say as you pull away. Lobo scratches his cheek. “It’s… Do you remember what the Fingers said at the Moonlight Altar?” You nod. How could you forget? He continues, crossing his arms. “From birth, shadow-bound beasts are cursed to obey their master’s wishes regardless of their feelings. Being born like this means their bodies are accustomed to holding curses within themselves. For example, that Gurranq guy we met is holding the cursed Deathroot within his flesh. It isn’t without repercussions, but it can be done.”  You remember Iji saying something to that effect, except Lobo doesn’t know that Gurranq is actually Maliketh the Black Blade. “Well… I am no shadow, but I’m also not human. I am an unknown being as far as history is concerned. The Fingers believed they could seal away the flames in my flesh, and Ranni… Well, she agrees… Do you see where I’m getting at?”

You take a deep breath. You feared it might have been something like this. Lobo… he’s planning on taking these flames into himself. Was this any better than the alternative? Won’t that just spell death for him too? “... You’re so mean.” You say, a knot in your throat forming once more. “So, is your plan just to die in my stead? What… What will that fix? We’ll still be separated, only I… I’ll just be back to wandering without purpose.“ You look him in the eye and try to stare him down. “I don’t wish the Elden Throne if it comes at your expense.” Lobo’s expression is soft, and he looks at you with almost pitying eyes. “Oh? No, I don’t plan on dying… Well, at least not on purpose.”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Then… what? Please stop toying with me.” Your poor heart might not be able to take these games anymore. Lobo raises his hands defensively. “Right, right, sorry. What I meant was that Ranni believes I could hold the flames within myself without dying.” He points to the cinders at the bottom of the forge. “The Flames of Ruin are weak. They need someone to sustain them, grant them power, and feed off of them. Ranni’s hope is that my unknown nature as neither shadow nor human would grant me the ability to tame the flames in a sort of symbiosis.” Symbiosis? Would that even work? You remember how the giant looked near the end of your fight, how it ripped off its leg as a sacrifice of sorts to its fell god. Who’s to say Lobo wouldn’t end up like that too? “There are no guarantees, but as you said: What difference does it make if you die or I die? At least this way, there’s a chance we can both survive to reach the Elden Ring together. That’s something I’m willing to fight for… If you’ll let me.”

There are still so many things you don’t understand. Just a few hours ago, you’d made up your mind to give up your life for Lobo’s sake. Now it was he who was at risk of dying. Is it really okay to trust the Princess’ plan on Lobo’s word alone? You trust him with your life, but you still feel there’s another dimension to this you’re not seeing. Then again, he does have a point. If you die or he dies, the one who lives will face the consequences. Is it better to risk more pain and suffering for just a chance or to let things pass the way they’re supposed to go? You don’t know… How could you know?

Lobo breaks you out of your thoughts by pulling your face closer and kissing your lips. You’re surprised, but you go along with him and kiss him back. The soft fur, the brush of fang, you have to enjoy them while you have them. “I will not force anything on you….” He whispers as you break away. “Whatever you choose, I will abide. I promise.” The ball is in your court. What will you do?  To let fate take you away or let Lobo attempt to inherit the Flames of Ruin. Neither choice is guaranteed to work in your favor, and both sides will likely result in losing something precious.

—-----------------

I end not far from my going forth

By picking the faded blue

Of the last remaining Aster flower

To carry again to you.

—-----------------

At the end of the beaten path, in the border between life and death. You choose:

Embrace the Flames of Ruin (Maiden of the Stars Path)

Let Lobo inherit the Flames of Ruin (Champion of Embers Path)

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Pollux (a Champion of Embers beginning)

This is one of two branching paths of Thanatos, the last Icebound Return chapter. Please go read it first because this chapter won't make sense otherwise.

----------------

“Sure…” The words leave your mouth in what’s almost an exhale. The sinking feeling in your gut that something is wrong hasn’t left you, but you must trust that your companion knows what he’s doing. You see his eyes (EYE! Stop saying eyes. GODS!) light up, and his tail wag. Lobo gives you that goofy smile that melts your heart. “Thank you for trusting me. I promise that everything will turn out fine. Speaking of….” He reaches into his pack and pulls out something tiny and white. “This is from Ranni. It’s what I went to Castle Sol for.” You receive from him what turns out to be a doll of the Witch herself. “It’s… It’s very detailed.” You say, not understanding why this doll would be so important. Your companion breaks eye contact and looks away at nothing in particular. “T-The details are unimportant. What matters is that it will keep you safe from the flames.” You turn it over in your hand. The doll seems to be just a tinier version of the one Ranni uses as a body.

“If it’s supposed to protect one from the Flames, then why don’t you hold on to it?” You retort, but Lobo is quick to dismiss you. “No. It’s for you….” You frown. Keeping secrets once more, are we? You’re about to tell him to be honest about his intentions when he changes the subject. “Well, I think it's time.” He smiles at you once more, looking so calm for someone possibly about to die. Meanwhile, you’ve been a nervous wreck this entire time. 

You pull him into a hug, just in case it’s the last time, and he reciprocates by kissing your forehead. “Don’t worry… Just have faith, okay?” Lobo says. You nod and hug him tighter. You still want to say so many things, but they must wait another day. If he’s willing to fight for it, then so should you.

—---------------

The Flames come alive as if stoked by an invisible force. The once dull embers rise into bursts of flames that fill the basin that makes the forge. You peer into the rising fire from your spot by the Site of Grace and feel a sense of fear and fascination. The power of a fell god that swirls and churns endlessly as spires within spires within spires ad infinitum. Lobo extends his hands in a cupped position as if receiving water from a pump. The fire wisps into his open hands, slowly causing him to come alight from his arms up. As you watch his entire body engulfing in flames, you can’t help but look away. Did you let Lobo take the fall for you out of a need to preserve yourself, or did you truly believe in what he said? Whatever the answer is doesn’t matter anymore. There’s no turning back.

Lobo extends his arms up, and you feel the heat coming off his body. It’s smoldering hot, like standing at the point right before touching a campfire. You grab ahold of the doll as the fire before you starts making you feel dizzy. The last thing you see before passing out is the somber shape of your companion. The bandage on his eye burns off, and with an eye socket swirling in a familiar red, he looks back and smiles at you.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Castor (a Maiden of the Stars beginning)

CW: Mayor character death

This is one of the two branching paths of Thanatos, the last chapter of the Icebound Series. If you have not read it, this will not make sense.

----------------

"Sorry... I can't let you." you say with a heavy heart, the words almost a whisper. You see Lobo's expression wince for a moment. The light in his eye dims just a little, and his ears fall back, even though you can tell he’s trying to remain neutral. “... Alright.” His voice sounds dead, defeated, a far cry from the calm and reassuring tone he had when talking about his plan. It hurts to look at. “I’m sorry….” You say, not bearing to look at him anymore. “If I let you take my place, I’d just be running away again from myself.” You peer into the embers that have begun to rise from the forge. It hungers. “This… is the way things should be. Please, I know I don’t deserve it, but….” You look back to your companion and place his face between your hands. Tears prickle your eyes, but you need to do this right. You bring his forehead close to yours, and he puts his left hand above the one you have on his cheek.

“The time I spent with you has been wonderful. Ever since we met, I’ve been grateful for having lived.”

“Now, It’s your turn… Please, become Elden Lord. Make the world you envisioned, even if I can’t be a part of it….

I love you….”

I’m sorry, this is how we say goodbye….

“... I love you too.

I understand, but… It’s so cruel….

I feel like I’ve lost so many people I loved….

But I made a promise. I swear I won’t let your wish go ungranted.”

The words drift out of your mouth. You don’t want to open your eyes, and you don’t want to let go. You hold her a little longer, just enough for the memory to burn later. Eventually, you’ll let her go and move on with your own destiny. Someone needs to put the Lands Between together, though it doesn’t make the pain in your chest disappear.

—----------------

“Let my hand rest upon yours, for but a moment.” She says, and you comply. Kneeling before her. You stare at her features one last time, and she smiles, though it betrays some fear. Was there anything you could have done to persuade her? You’re not sure, but you suppose that regardless of the outcome, you have to respect her wishes. She… She will do what you cannot and take hold of her own fate. Is that not a reason to rejoice?

You feel tired. Though you attempt to fight it, you fall to the ground. The last sight that greets you is that of your companion standing before the flames, extending her arms.

“Goodbye….” You hear her say before the world fades away.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Delphi (A prophetic Icebound Return)

CW: Some light sexy stuff and light mentions of... uh genocide? Idk.

Hey, sorry it happened again. This was supposed to be the beginning of a bigger boy chapter that I was going to post all at once, but of course, my finger slipped and this chapter ballooned into what it is right now. Hopefully, you guys can bring yourselves to forgive my crimes against conciseness.

As always I welcome music suggestions.

Theme for a lonely walk through the Mountains

----------------

The Roundtable hold is empty when you arrive. Roderika has probably already retired to her bed chambers, and the only noise in the halls is the clanging of Master Hewg’s hammer. Gideon Ofnir has locked himself away in his study, though you don’t doubt he still knows about everything in the halls. It’s inevitable, such is the nature of one who is all-knowing, though honestly, you would prefer to keep your little visit a secret. You pass the table of lost grace and enter the chamber where the Two Fingers of the Tarnished stand, stretched out and useless as usual. That’s fine because she is the one you’re actually looking for.

Enia the Hag sits in her usual spot beside the Two Fingers, her hollow eyes glancing at you as you enter the chamber. Though her body is frail and ancient, she still sits up a little straighter and greets you politely. “Oh. Well, I haven’t seen you in a long time. Good evening young maiden. How may I help you?” She stretches one long bony finger toward the two giant ones before you. “I’m afraid that the Fingers remain still. They’ve been that way since they learned of the Erdtree spurning those who dared approach. It may be thousands upon thousands of moons before the Fingers may offer their guidance again.” You shake your head, and she tilts her head in confusion. “I’m not here to see the Fingers. I’m here to see you.” You speak, trying to keep your tone neutral. Enia crips her club with both hands, staring at you with a kind smile. “Perhaps you seek power from the Remembrance of Champions? If so, I can-” You interrupt her, wanting to get to the point quickly. “No, no. I want… I-I would like for you to read my fate. Recently I’ve… I’ve discovered some things about myself. I need to know if it’s true….”

Enia looks to the Two Fingers as if they would come to life if she wished it hard enough. “There’s no need to read your fingers, dear.” Now it’s your turn to be confused. What does she mean there’s no need? “I suppose I should have been honest with you the first time we talked. Do you remember?” You furrow your brow and try to remember. The first time you came to Roundtable Hold was when you spoke with Enia, but you only remember her offering to sell you the equipment of champions and… “You read my fingers back then too!” Your eyes are open wide as reality sets in. So then, the Finger Reader had known your true identity since the beginning. A sad expression crosses Enia’s ancient features. “Back then, I informed you of the duty of the Tarnished. You believed yourself to be one of them, but once I read your fate, I realized the truth about you.” She reaches a hand out to you, and you place your palm on top of hers.

“One after the other, every single Finger Maiden fell into the hands of those who would oppose the will of the Fingers. Their lives were lost as a result. If you knew the truth, you would inevitably follow the same path….” She traces a boney finger over your calloused hands, going carefully through each phalange and carpal. “The final task given by grace to all Finger Maidens is to give up their lives to the flames. Many before you have attempted to burn the Erdtree, yet none brought their champion closer to mending the Elden Ring.” She looks up from your hand, and her hollow, sunken eyes bore into you once more. “What good would come from shackling you to such fate? In your freedom, you’ve found the love of one who would stand by your side. You’ve found a home and a place to belong. No tarnished alive can claim such a thing.” Enia lets go of your hand, and you curl it close to your chest. The Fingers were right about you, then; you’re no tarnished warrior at all! You hold no claim to the Elden Ring nor the Elden Throne. Your only purpose is to be used and discarded, a tool much like the shadow-bound beasts. Perhaps it was a mercy to lose your memories, to be spared of your dark path, but if that was the case, was the alternative much better? Was it better to wander, each day passing you by without meaning?

….

You thank Enia for her help, and she bids you farewell. “Now, go forth. Grasp your fate with your own two hands. Especially should your fate involve a most foul betrayal.” You’re tired, and Lobo must be back home already.

—-----------------

Despite the warmth of Lobo’s fur against your back and his strong arms wrapping loosely around your waist, your body refuses to fall asleep. Your mind is buzzing like a wasps’ nest. You’re filled with a great sense of anxiety about what will happen next. Tomorrow you’re set for the Mountaintops of the Giants. The medallion of Rold Lobo had obtained from Iji while you were busy would open the way toward the lands forsaken by the golden rays. He’d told you not to worry about the flames of ruin or the words of the Fingers. But he doesn’t know the truth about you, does he? Would he still be so calm if he knew?

You intertwine your fingers with Lobo’s. Feeling the rough pads and short claws against your human digits. Part of you wonders if he would abandon the quest for you. According to him, he only seeks the throne to set this crooked land right, but would he chase it so doggedly for such an impersonal reason? If you were to stay like this forever, living in this derelict tower and letting the Lands Between continue to rot away, would he join you? It’s selfish to think this way. When you see all the injustices carried out against the tarnished that came before you. In the fates of people like Morgott, Gurranq, Iji, or even Lobo’s parents, you see the broken rule the Greater Will has forced upon the land. None of this would have happened had the outer gods not meddled in the lives of mortals, and injustices like these will continue to happen so long as the Elden Ring remains shattered. You know what will happen if you stay like this and do nothing. You’ll just be passing the responsibility to someone else. Even if Lobo agreed, you couldn’t possibly be okay with that. Yet you still wish it would all just… stop.

Lobo shifts in his sleep, his muzzle now resting against your neck. You feel a puff of his breath against your chin as he settles back down. His fur is so warm and soft. It’s hard to explain, but it almost brings you to tears. It must be because you’re afraid of saying goodbye. It reminds you of the transience of your time with him, shattering the illusion that it could last forever. You’ve known each other for less than a year, yet this is the year you’ve finally felt like you have lived. Having him by your side, making new memories together every day. Those memories gave you the strength to push through any adversity you faced. You had nothing else, but you were happy. You’re not ready to leave it all behind, but if you don’t, then... What will happen with Lobo? You haven’t forgotten the words of the Fingers about using his death to seal away the flames. The Two Fingers were dead, but the Greater WIll was not. Would the god do something like that if it discovered Lobo’s existence? Can you run that risk? You….

You feel him stir behind you. He lets out an adorable squeaky yawn before hugging you tighter to him. “Mmm… ¿Mi Vida? ¿Que haces- Sorry, Why are you awake so late?” Mi Vida, that’s a new one. Someday you’ll have to ask him what all of these names mean. “Just thinking about things… Don’t worry about me.” You say, brushing the fur of his arm. He hums, and the noise echoes around the tower. “You’re still thinking about what the Fingers said, aren’t you?” He asks. Damn it, it must have been obvious how distressed you were. You shake your head, feeling his eyes judging your expression. “I’m just thinking about… Well, if you don’t mind me asking… Why do you chase the Elden Ring? Why… Why potentially risk your life for this?” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. He stays silent, running his thumb against the back of your hand.

“At first… Maybe it was just to make things right. After Father’s death, I felt I needed to fix things… Ranni, the Demigods, and the Two Fingers. To me, they were all the same. Forcing their wills upon the world, shaping it in their twisted image. If I let it stand… I would admit Mother and Father’s deaths were in vain, that none of it meant anything, and the world would carry on without them.” You feel him shake his head. “Now… Now I can see that I was just running away again. I needed to blame someone for their deaths, and I guess anyone would do.”

He chuckles, but it’s without joy. “Pathetic, isn’t it? Well… I think so too. That’s why I continue to seek the Elden Ring regardless, not because of my Mother or Father or because I need someone to blame. I want to do it because it’s the right thing to do.” You look back at Lobo. His eyes glow in the darkness, reflecting the light of the moon shining through the tower. He suddenly looks away, looking bashfully at the ceiling. “... and well… I want to make this place somewhere we could live together for the rest of our lives….” You should tell him. You need to tell him. You can’t hold on to this secret any longer, not when he’s planning on doing all of this for you. “I….” You start, calling his attention back to you. “I’m… glad we want the same thing.” You say cowardly. The darkness hides your expression, so maybe that’s why he chuckles to himself. “I worried that you might’ve laughed at the idea.” He says, and you can feel the genuine joy in his voice. You’re the scum of the earth. Yet, you can’t help but let his happiness infect you for a moment. If you can’t live together forever, let’s at least pretend for tonight.

You feel him nuzzle into your cheek. You giggle as his whiskers tickle you, then reach up and pet the fur of his face. “I’m not going to get any sleep if you keep playing around like this.” You tell him as you turn around, embracing him fully now. His snout goes straight for your neck, and you laugh hard at the sensation of his tongue lapping at you. “Fine by me.” Lobo says into your neck. “I’m sure you can come up with other things we can do.” His voice is low and smokey. You feel yourself blush at the implications. With all the commotion since reaching Leyndell, you hadn’t had time for that. “Is it my turn to take the lead or yours?” You ask before he moves on top of you, caging you in his arms. “Can’t remember… I’ll just assume it’s me.” He says before you kiss him. There’s still that twinge of guilt in your chest over lying to him.

Tomorrow. You’ll have to sort this out tomorrow.

—---------------------

The frost itches your skin as you step out into the open air of the mountaintops. You’ve never seen that much snow in one place. Even in winter, the Lands Between never gets cold enough for frost or snow to form in large quantities. In the distance, the Erdtree is barely visible between the clouds, and the trees look ghostly and transparent. As if someone had called them from the dead with a spirit beckoning bell. Actually, scurrying between the trees, you can spot translucent animals too. Is everything in these mountaintops spectral? You didn’t miss the abundance of giant corpses on the way up. Does that mean you could expect to encounter ghostly giants as well? Paper Moon whinnies when a small rodent passes between his feet. You pat him on the side to call him down. The way ahead seems long, but at least your horses will carry you through the first stretch.

You sneeze, and it breaks you out of that train of thought. “Salud!” Lobo is quick to say, shivering just a little from the cold. “Thanks.” You say, breathing into your hand to defrost your gloved fingers. “Aren’t you cold? It doesn’t look like your armor protects that much from the cold.” He shakes his head. “I’m fine. My fur is enough.” Your companion speaks confidently, but you hear the chattering of his teeth once he closes his mouth. You sigh, creating a puff of condensation in front of you. “Remind me to make you something for the cold. A big furred cloak would probably look good on you..” At your words, he falls silent, staring ahead at the road. His mare stays beside your gelding. Shit! You forgot that his father dressed like that. You’re about to apologize when he looks at you with a cute grin. “I would like that. Thank you.” You feel your lips curl into a small smile. “No problem.”

The Zamor knights that wandered through the snowy landscape were easy prey for your spells. It didn’t take too long for you to reach a frozen lake at the northeast end of the map. You galloped through the mist, ignoring the dragon that tried in vain to ambush you, and you eventually reached a fork in the road.

Going north, you will find Castle Sol, while south lay the Forge of the Giants. You and Lobo decide to take a break by a decrepit sorcerer’s tower, not unlike Tetsu’s rise. In fact, now that you think about it, Ranni’s rise also looks suspiciously similar to this building. Did they get the same architect to design all the sorcerer’s towers? Part of you hopes they didn’t get paid that much, considering they reused two designs for every single one. They don’t even have windows. You bring this up to Lobo, who merely tells you that it could just be that one person used the design first, and then the rest decided to copy it to be trendy. Considering the general pettiness of the average sorcerer, it wouldn’t surprise you.

“Mi cielo.” Lobo says as you’re getting back on your horse. “Hmm?” You look back at him once you’re in the saddle. Mi cielo is another new one. “Latenna asked to visit Castle Sol. She has some business to take care of over there.” He points towards the crumbling shape in the distance. “I… I hope I’m not asking too much, but would you be okay getting to the Forge on your own? Hopefully, it won’t take long, and I know you can handle yourself, but still….” You look over at the castle in the distance, then towards the shape of the mountain. This would be the first time you would be separated since you met. You would be lying if you said you were reluctant to part, but… you have to start getting used to the idea, don’t you? Besides, some time alone might do you some good. You nod, trying your best to seem unbothered. “Sure. Just… Let’s meet at the Forge once it’s over, okay? I have s-some things I want to discuss with you.” You hate that your voice wavers, but if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. Lobo takes your hand and gives it a kiss before mounting Pvt. Dancer, a boyish smile shows off his fangs. “Alright. I’m leaving it up to you. I’ll try not to be away overlong. Goodbye.” With a flick of his reigns, the horse gallops away, and you’re left alone with your thoughts once more. You look down at your hand, tracing a finger over the spot he kissed. You’re scum. Truly, the scum of the earth.