Rapturous Rhapsody N Desolation 5

When we two parted

In silence and tears,

Half broken-hearted

To sever for years,

Pale grew thy cheek and cold,

Colder thy kiss;

Truly that hour foretold

Sorrow to this.

********

I would rather trust you than simply continue to spoil from within.

I loved fire.

I hated fire.

The fallen leaves, burning to ash on the wind, fluttered and danced as little flas.

They were all that remained.

So of my earliest mories are of fla.

So of my happiest mories are sitting before a hearth, book in hand. The stories providing a sense of wonder and escapism to my mind. Or roasting marsh llows with friends and family.

The scent of woodsmoke wafting through the air was as welcoming to

as fresh-cut grass or a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter day.

Ask any Dark Souls player what they think of the Bonfire, even if they know the lore, and they will tell you that the flas represent peace. Safety. A mont to catch your breath before you are thrown out into the cold, indifferent world again.

The Bonfire of the Souls gas is such a universally recognizable symbol that even people who have never played it can look at an image and know it right away.

But fire burns more than it comforts.

My earliest nightmares were of fire. Of flas consuming my ho, my family, and myself. Of choking smoke, hazy eyes, and screams in the night.

The comforting glow of the Bonfire deceived the sense, for the fire was not kind to those it touched.

I had burned in the fires of the gods twice.

Staring at the orange and red sky, the Erdtree crackling in the fires of its own Ragnarok, I wished I had burned thrice.

I was numb.

Not angry, not sad, not in disbelief, not anything really.

Just numb.

When you experience sothing like this, it feels like you are floating.

Like everything is separated by a filter, hazy and unfocused. Like nothing is real. Like you are dreaming and are just waiting to wake up. I knew enough about dicine to know I was in shock.

In a way, I was fortunate.

I had lived for centuries in worlds created by the mind of Hidetake Miyazaki. A series famous for its slogan, Prepare to Die.

That sa slogan had been, appropriately, changed by the fandom.

Prepare to Cry.

That I only felt like this now was nothing short of a miracle.

There were no happy ends in Demon Souls, Dark Souls, Bloodborne, or Sekiro.

Anyone the player interacted with was dood. The kindest thing soone could do in those worlds was to avoid the NPCs without trying to help them.

Only then would they have a chance at happiness.

Intellectually, I knew I had done a lot. Secured happy ends for a lot of people I liked. Rationally, I knew I should be proud of the happiness I had secured for others.

Feelings never care for logic.

Though Fromsoft had a way of breaking its players' hearts, I had thought they still had a few lines they never crossed.

They never separated gaplay from their storytelling. This ant that if you only had one way to level up, they shouldn't take it away for cheap drama.

I hear we have to set the tree alight? Obviously, the player needs to burn to accomplish it, just like in Dark Souls. There is more than one puzzle in those gas involving lighting fires. Though there had been ntions of sacrificing a maiden, I hadn't given Shabiri much ti to talk before killing him for possessing Yura.

More than that, I hadn't believed him.

What were they going to do? Take away the players' ability to level up before the end of the ga?

I had needed lina to level up in the first place; it made no sense to take her away.

I could still channel runes, even after lina... left.

I had thought it was due to my Talents, a workaround not available to players.

I should have realized that nothing was safe.

I never played Elden Ring.

I had avoided any information from the network test. I knew nothing about the world but the bare basics shown in the trailers.

For all I knew, this was but one path.

If I had joined other factions, would lina still be alive?

Could I have saved her if I had explored, researched, and spent more ti in Reya Lucaria or Leyndell?

If I had trusted her more and given her more information, would she still be with ?

I would rather trust you than simply continue to spoil from within.

I offered her my bite, but I had not explained everything.

I told her my 'curse' was transferable if I wished it. Those people got many benefits in exchange for being trapped on the Island until I could free them. It would an only as much as they wished it to an.

Though they were 'bound' to , it didn't an they had to do what I said or go where I went.

Unlike other waifu-catalogue-bound people, there was no requirent for romance. Theoretically, I could offer the benefits of the catalogue to anyone; I didn't even have to be attracted to them.

Even Ranni, despite our 'marriage,' I was only going to make the offer to her because I sympathized with her plight, and I felt she would enjoy the company of the won of the Island.

For all I knew, the Demigod would reject the offer after she had spent so long working towards her goal.

I still planned on leaving them all, only taking lina with . They could go where they wished from there.

My Maiden would have let

wade into that cauldron if she had known I had burned in the fires of the First Fla.

She would have trusted

to return to her, I was sure.

If only I had trusted her in that sa manner.

We were waiting for

to beco Elden Lord before I bound her, as she would disappear like Priscila had. When she had first told

she loved , I had been terrified she would disappear. But I now knew the only thod of binding that worked was my bite.

Like everything else regarding that accursed catalogue, nothing worked as it should.

Not that I told her that.

I didn't tell her about the possibility that she could control

once bound.

I hadn't explained the true extent of my 'curse.'

lina knew nothing of the other worlds, my 'super-immortality' or the true extent of my madness.

There was a myriad of reasons, so petty and others valid, but it all ca down to one thing.

I hadn't trusted her.

I hadn't trusted her to not use her power over

once she knew about it. I believed our relationship would change once she knew she could shape

with only her words.

In my ideal world, I would have beaten the ga and claid all the shards of the Elden Ring. I would bind lina and Ranni, enact my plan, and appear on the Island.

From there, I would gain control of my Dragon Body, grab my stuff and lina, and leave.

No temptation to stay, no risk of death by personality wipe or being a puppet in my body.

It was a simple plan.

But this wasn't my ideal world.

lina was dead because I hadn't trusted her.

Because I had been scared.

I would rather trust you than simply continue to spoil from within.

I have always wondered why Millicent's words bothered

so much since I first heard them. They were said in such an off-handed manner.

They shouldn't have stuck with

for so long.

I thought it was because I feared rotting from within, from losing myself in my search for Freedom.

That wasn't the reason.

A part of

had realized I had rotted away long ago.

Maybe since I first discovered their power over ?

When Diana inadvertently ordered

to burn in those soul-searing flas for thousands of years?

When I found out they were going free Emma and she hadn't told ?

Certainly, since I decided to cast a command seal at every summoning, fear has driven

to control them rather than risk a slip of the tongue.

I had gone so far as to give the order in French lest lina or Ranni suspect sothing. They thought my command seals were my 'spell' to summon my companions.

If that didn't speak of my paranoia, I didn't know what did.

Even if I had forgotten most of my interactions with the won of the Island over the centuries, even if I couldn't claim to love them without the influence of foreign feelings, I knew them enough by now to know they didn't harbour malicious intent.

Even if I knew that, even now that my actions had driven my lover to death, I didn't know if I could trust them or anyone else who could unmake

with an order.

Such was the nature of fear.

Cold and overpowering in its complete control.

It was too late anyway.

The kindling had been burnt to ash, and there was no getting it back.

What was the point of trust when those you wanted to let into your heart were already gone?

I stood up.

My eyes were dry.

I never liked crying.

I had things to do.

"Mikael," a soft voice called my na.

Ranni was sitting where I had just been lying. Torrent was beside her.

How long had they been there?

No matter.

I had things to do.

"You stole the Rune of Death."

It wasn't a question. Ranni had admitted as much decades ago when we t in her tower.

"I did," she answered, standing up and looking into my eyes. She barely ca up to my chest, but her piercing blue eye stared through .

I looked away.

I didn't want sympathy.

Not when I could have stopped this from happening in the first place.

"Then you know where I can find it."

Torrent rose as well, and I started to redo my armour.

"T'is held by Maliketh the Black Blade. He hides in Crumbling Faram Azula."

I fumbled at the clasp of my chest piece. I hadn't expected Ranni to give the information so freely. I had hoped to have to trade sothing for it. Let her know she owed

for that Baleful Shadow.

I briefly wondered about her angle before I realized I didn't care.

If she was being helpful, that was all that mattered. The motivation was irrelevant.

I didn't care about anything right now.

"Good, you'll take

there." I stared down at lina's cloak. It was all I had left of her. Besides mories. I carefully folded it and put it away. "Once I control Destined Death, I'm going after the Elden Ring."

"Which of my siblings in thy target?"

"All of them," I finally t her eye. Ranni should leave now if she couldn't get behind

killing her family. If she did, I would find my own way. "Rykard, Malenia, Miquella, and Mogh. I'm going to find them and kill them all. I'm not going near the Erdtree until they are dead, and I'm holding their shards in my hand. Then I'll kill Radagon and anyone else that gets in my way. Definity Marika. Her part in this will not go unpunished."

"Very well, my consort." Far from being put off by my words, Ranni just nodded her head. "I shall render what aid I can upon thy journey. Rykard should be our first target, lest his Manor exploit the Capitol's state. The others may be found at thy leisure."

I grunted in acknowledgnt as I mounted Torrent.

Ranni sat behind .

Phantom feelings of lina's arms embracing

as we rode through the world.

I shuddered, and the feelings were gone.

I needed to kill sothing.

Right now, nothing sounded better than fighting, killing, and dying.

I wasn't masochistic in the least, always leaning more toward the sadistic side, but right now, physical pain sounded much better than what I was feeling now.

I knew that taking out my pain on others was wrong.

After I had the Rune of Death, I could set out to Leyndell and end it all. The won on the Island had the ritual all set up already.

They were just waiting on my say-so.

What I was going to unleash on the Lands Between was senseless, pointless violence.

I never pretended to be a good man, but what I would do in the coming years would be morally and ethically wrong on every level.

I just didn't care.

********

"A mont, my consort," Ranni's voice stopped

in my tracks.

I didn't ask what for.

She had been incredibly helpful since lina... since she left. Ranni couldn't use too much magic in her miniature form, but if needed, she could shift to her larger doll. I had reached Faram Azula because she had cast a teleportation spell of so sort.

Without her, I would have spent decades searching for access to the ruins of the flying city.

Ranni's spectral form flowed from the pouch at my side in a haze of blue magic reminiscent of twinkling stars. She wasn't looking at , instead staring at the storm at the center of the crumbling fortress.

At any other ti, Faram Azula would have captured my heart instantly. I could have watched the powerful storm for hours, captivated by its size and majesty.

I looked at it once before moving on.

I just wanted to find Maliketh and every dragon here and kill them all.

Most did not actually increase my power, already saturated with draconic energy as I was. Still, a rare few gave

good enough benefits that hunting the rest was worth the effort. Rather than partaking in Communion, when I consud their hearts, I got flashes of their mories and, from there, could recreate their unique spells.

"A great spell has been woven here," Ranni's voice was steady as always. For a mont, I was tempted to tease her about it. I always liked that I could prod her until she broke her facade. But it was just an idle thought. I didn't feel like talking. So I just grunted at her words. "I would ask thee to hold still for a while. I believe I have found an ingress to a hidden abode. Perhaps Maliketh has moved his residence since I stole Death."

She paused for a mont, looking at .

"What?"

"Should I do this, I shall need to rest. Neither this working nor that of bringing thee here were of little effort. Even my larger forms may only channel so much power."

"Do it," I said as I sat down and watched her work.

Even with my Magical Talent and spell experience, I could barely tell what Ranni was doing. While it was powerful, more than that, it was subtle. I recognized a temporal and spatial aspect and the similarities to the spell Ranni had used to teleport

to Faram Azula years ago.

With my experience with Fromsoft gas, it wasn't hard to guess what was coming.

My assumption was correct when ti flowed backwards, like pressing rewind on a VHS.

The storm shrunk as debris flew back into place. Pillars rebuilt themselves, and the floor evened out. Fine, artistic detail, long worn by the wind and rain, beca clear.

In less than a minute, I had gone from sitting at the edge of a skyborne wreck, legs dangling off the edge, to standing in a colossal arena.

"'T'is done." I could hear the weariness in Ranni's voice. If she was so diminished while body-less, I wondered how strong she had been when she had her Emperyan flesh. "T'was not the ho of the Black Blade. This is Dragonlord Placidusax. Elden Lord in the age before the Erdtree. I believed he was slain when his god fled. Though he has suffered wounds, he lives still."

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I watched the absolutely massive being unfurl his wings as he sensed the intrusion into his ho. I could see the inspiration from DnD's Tiamat, though only two of the five heads remained.

Judging by the power gathering in their maws, it was the two that controlled fire and lightning.

"I am sorry, my consort," Ranni said, flowing back into her miniature housing at my waist. I didn't know why she sounded so sad. "My magic has drained , and I must rest a while. Thee will be alone in this fight."

Torrent, we had discovered, on top of being claustrophobic, was also acrophobic.

Without Best Boi, this would be a challenge.

Just

and an ancient dragon lord.

Alone.

Again.

Perfect.

"Get so rest, Doll." I absentmindedly patted the tiny head. It was a habit from years of our ti together. She had never once complained about it, and it had beco a habit. "By the ti you wake up, I should be done with Faram Azula. Maybe Gelmir as well."

"My consort," I could hear the fatigue in her voice and the concern. I kept an eye on the Legend before

as it roared in a challenge at . "Perhaps thee should... nay, I shall not say it. I shall simply urge thee to rember I am here. Thou are not alone. Thou shall never be alone again."

Then it was just , my greatsword, and a dragon the size of a skyscraper.

********

I took a deep breath, golden lightning and fire gathering in my maw. The ice decorating the cavern covered the rancid stench that had been present when I first entered.

When I first purchased Inexaustable Talent, I had dread of casting spells that reshaped the world. I firmly believed there was a small piece of everyone that longed for the wonders of magic. I hoped to conjure storms, teors, and other astonishing phenona.

Throughout my journey, I discovered two limitations that stopped my dreams in their tracks.

The first was the limit of the power my vessel could draw on.

Whenever I started a new ga, I was reset to level one, and even if I never ran out of magic, there was a limit to how much I could channel at any point. In ga terms, my magic bar never lowered, but I couldn't cast more powerful spells if it wasn't large enough.

Only as I approached the last few boss fights could I go all out. But then I would run into the second problem.

Magic in the Souls gas, and Elden Ring, isn't fast enough to cast.

It held incredibly destructive power, and more often than not, I could jerry-rig sothing, but I was rarely able to use it to its full potential. Enemies wouldn't just sit there and let you cast at them.

Radahn was a great example.

I had to risk my life to literally be on top of him to get the full effect of Ekzykes Decay.

So I relished the few opportunities I had to go all out.

Even better when my enemy was a Demigod holding a shard of the Elden Ring.

I imdiately sensed the powerful weapon nearby when I entered the massive cavern that housed the God-Devouring Serpent. The wind magic coated its blade and told

this fight was supposed to be another take on the Stormruler fight like Yorm or the original in Demons' Souls.

I didn't need the spear.

Seeing as the massive snake was at ho in a volcano, I hazarded a guess that it was resistant to fire and wasn't used to ice.

Borealis's Mist flowed from my mouth in an unending torrent, hiding

from view.

The lava cooled and solidified. Bodies froze, then shattered in shows of frozen blood. Ice ford on the floor, walls and ceilings. Icicles fell like rain as all the liquid in the room was flash-frozen.

The serpent stirred, trying to find

in the fog, but its massive size gave away its location, and I avoided it with ease even as the temperature continued to lower.

I didn't know if a blasphemous snake god was cold-blooded, but it barely took half an hour for its writhing to slow, then stop.

I kept the power flowing from my mouth.

No way would things be so simple in a Fromsoft boss fight for a shard of the Elden Ring.

I was unsurprised to see an arm burst from the serpent's body, the frozen blood flying in icicles as its scales shattered.

What was with Elden Ring and all the arms and hands?

Did Miyazaki discover the wonders of handjobs since Sekiro?

I watched the arm reach into the limp maw of the God-Devouring Serpent and withdraw a massive greatsword covered in pulsing and writhing tendrils.

Ok, I can give props to the spectacle.

It didn't change what I was doing.

The temperature continued dropping, well below zero and reaching the point where even I felt it.

And I was casting spells to heat myself up.

My 'fight' with Rykard was anti-climatic.

He tried everything the snake had, rampaging around the cavern in an attempt to find . He swung his blade to and fro, screaming about how I would 'join his family' and we would 'devour the gods togethaaa!'

He tried to use his magic to fling fire and lava around, but by then, the temperature was so low and my breath so powerful that lava turned to stone in his hands, and flas extinguished into steam in seconds.

With three shards of the Elden Ring, my Inexaustable Talent, and a battlefield I had set up?

The result was inevitable.

I enjoyed a blood-pumping fight more than most. Knowing that certain death was a miss-step away brought

to life like few things could.

I could fondly look back on my ti against the Ornstein and Smough, Alonne, Naless King, Gael, the Soul of Cinder, and Radahn as so of the best monts of my life.

But the sadistic joy I found in slow freezing a Demigod as he helplessly tried to save himself, unable to put up even a token resistance, was close to that adrenaline rush.

In the end, I gathered the shard of the Elden Ring from the popsicle of Rykard, Lord of Blasphemy.

I shattered his body into billions of pieces with Placidusax's Ruin. The 'fight' took an hour.

I spent six in that cavern.

Over and over, I breathed a golden rush of lightning and fire upon the carcass until all that remained was an ash-filled crater.

The serpent god would not be coming back from that.

I didn't leave loose ends.

********

The, by now, familiar sll of the Scarlet Rot filled my nose.

It was joined by the iron tang of blood.

I looked at the source of both.

"Thank you for lending your hand," Millicent stared up at

with vacant eyes. She was as pale as the first ti we t. Again I was struck by the beautiful deep scarlet of her hair. I always had a thing for redheads. It was a testant to the fact that I hadn't planned any romance with the won on the Island that none of my choices were redheads. "Without your help, I could not have defeated that quartet."

"'s no problem," I said softly. I was concentrating my inexhaustible power on trying to heal her wounds. She hadn't escaped the fight with her 'sisters' without taking a blade through the chest near her heart. It was taking all I could to keep her alive. The wounds were not closing, no matter how much of the miracle flowed through

and into her. "Don't talk. You're making my job harder."

"I feel as if I've been in your debt from beginning to end." What was with these won and not listening to ? "Thank you. With your help, I was able to live as my own person, if only in passing."

"I do this of my own volition. Regardless of my mother's designs. I have set my heart upon the world I would have."

"That's quitter talk," I tried to smile at her. Even I knew it looked more like a grimace. "You've made it this far. Just a little more, and I can heal you."

"This is where things end." Goddamnit woman! Shut up, and let

fix you! I wasn't going to lose anyone else. "I pause to even tell you, but... I took out the needle myself."

I froze, power still seeping out of .

"Why?"

My voice sounded pathetic even to my ears.

"Whoever started this and provided you with the needle, tell them; that if I am to flower into sothing other than myself, I would rather rot into nothingness as I am."

Though she couldn't see , too Rot-infested, I could see the determination in her eyes.

Stupid hard-headed woman.

I would rather trust you than simply continue to spoil from within.

"There is... another option." My throat was suddenly parched. My heart pounded in my chest, and my hands shook. Fear gripped . At this mont, I wasn't sure what scared

more. Letting soone else I cared about die when I could save them? Or putting another shackle around my neck? "I have a way to heal you. Completely I an. Scarlet Rot and all. You would get your lost limb back, be back to perfect form and everything."

"And what would be the cost," she grimaced the question.

She knew more than most that there was no such thing as a free lunch.

"For you? You would be trapped on an Island with a few others until I could free you. I am already working on it, so it shouldn't be too long."

"And what would it cost you?"

I should have said it wouldn't cost

anything. It would hardly be a lie. I was already planning on leaving everyone behind. As I told Ranni, what was the difference between twelve and thirteen?

It may be my nature as a Dragon of Freedom. Perhaps I was just scared that I would be unable to escape the Island when the ritual was completed.

Maybe I was too much of a coward.

The words would not leave my lips.

"You must leave ," taking my silence for what it was, Millicent urged . "Please, let

pass alone. The Scarlet Rot writhes now, worse than ever. Soon, I won't be more than a mound of flesh. Curse-laden. Untouchable. I wouldn't want such a thing to bring you harm."

Why was I such a coward?

I had gone against gods with barely a sweat, despite all the pain they could (and did) inflict on .

I had sat upon the Throne of Want despite knowing what I was dooming myself to.

I have lied, murdered, and stolen my way to the top.

Why could I not tell one white lie to a dying woman I liked to save her life?

I lied all the goddamn ti! Ninety-nine percent of everything that ca out of my mouth was bullshit!

Why could I not speak one last lie?

I knew why.

Pain was fleeting. Morality was subjective.

Anyone I bound would be with

to the end of ti.

A permanent risk.

I had chosen to be a Dragon of Life because I feared the permanence of death.

And I could think of no fate worse than personality death, my body paraded around for eternity while I was either gone from it or, worse, still trapped in it.

As soon as I discovered, through Emma, the power the won held over , I thought of a use for it. A simple one that would solve all my problems. I had still been trapped in my cell then.

The mind is a wonderfully terrible thing. I wasn't the most brilliant person out there, but I was smart. Cunning. Tricky.

Using a command seal on any of the won, I could give one order to solve all my problems.

'Order

to go to sleep. Then Order my body to do everything to get free.'

Through that convoluted process, I would turn myself into a machine.

No pain or suffering.

I could wander through millions of gas and worlds and only wake up once I was free.

I had thought about asking Robin to give

that order when she appeared in my cell.

The words never left my lips, as they couldn't now.

Desperate to find an alternative, I thought of stuffing myself, one piece at a ti, through the bars. It was excruciating, and had I not been so desperate, I would have given up after the first day. It took four to get all but one limb out of the cell. Separating my head from my neck using only a rusty cell door took a day.

I used my escape as justification for why that final solution, that terrible yet easy idea was not necessary.

I hadn't regretted that choice even once in all these centuries.

Until I awoke atop the Forge of the Giants.

"I won't leave you," I told Millicent as I stopped trying to heal her.

Power of a different sort, one far more final and absolute, gathered in my hand in the shape of a red dagger.

"Thank you."

She must have felt Death in my hands because she did not ask

to leave again. Instead, she struggled to reach for sothing around her neck, and I paused.

Eventually, she found what she sought and held it out to .

It was a talisman depicting a raised prosthetic blade.

"Take it," she urged. "It is all I can provide you in recompense for all you have done and will do. Though I fear I have one last request of you, knowing you hold the Rune of Death."

"Na it," I said as I threaded the talisman upon the chain on my neck.

Too many, and their magic would interfere with each other. They were like rings in Dark Souls. If I was playing a ga, I would choose them based on min-maxing their benefit. But this wasn't a ga. So I only kept those of sentintal value.

It joined the Shard of Alexander, the Carian Filigreed Crest, the Bull-goat's talisman.

"I ask you to slay Malenia. Slay her and banish the Rot from this world."

"I was already planning on it."

"I know," Millicent drew herself up, staring at my kneeling form at eye level. "I know your ans and skills. Should you use all in your arsenal, not even the Blade of Miquella could hope to stand before you. My final request is thus; Kill her in honourable combat. Even should she forget her pride and dignity and give in to the Scarlet Rot, as she did facing Radahn, I ask you never do so to equal her. I ask of you, my Lord, an impossible task. Are you able to defeat the undefeated with skill alone?"

"I am. And I will."

"Then I ask you to kill

and cut the Rot from this land."

I plunged Destined Death into her heart, cursing my cowardice and hypocrisy.

Her smile, the sa red as her hair, was radiant.

********

I reached the base of the Haligtree in a daze.

My body was on autopilot, taking one step in front of the other.

Any enemies that tried to kill

were cut down where they stood. I was so powerful by this point that I hadn't died since facing Placidusax, an ancient Elden Lord. The pests, knights, and monstrosities that called the tree ho were but wheat before my blade.

They never rose again.

By the ti I reached Malenia, perhaps only a handful of beings still survived in the tree's branches.

I was sad I wouldn't get a clean sweep, but I couldn't put forth the energy to ensure my genocide was complete.

I found her sitting in a chair, hand laid out on the furrows of the tree. It looked like a womb to my eyes. Leaves fell around us, and the wind swayed the white flowers that dotted the clearing.

It was silent but for the sound of the wind and the leaves. All the trumpeters, pests, soldiers, and others who would have made noise in the distance were long dead.

"I dreamt for so long."

She looked like Millicent, I realized.

Malenia was taller, and the Rot had claid more of her. Out of her limbs, only one arm was intact. The infestation had also claid her head, robbing her of her eyesight.

"My flesh was dull gold... and my blood, rotted. Corpse after corpse, left in my wake..." She stood from her seat, eight and a half feet tall and slowly attached the prosthetic arm that had lain at her feet. Her blade was at least nine feet long. I made no move to take advantage of her unhurried state. "As I awaited... his return."

Finally, that scarlet hair that reminded

of love, passion, blood, and Rot was covered by a winged helm.

"...Heed my words. I am Malenia. Blade of Miquella. And I have never known defeat."

As if her slow movents were a lie, Malenia was on

in a flash. I took the first blow on my shield, ready to attack in the rebound's opening.

Her tallic foot crashed into my side.

I flew, rolling on the ground in a heap of bruises, broken bones, and pain.

Malenia impaled

before I had the chance to stand.

That was my first death at the hand of the Demigod.

I barely lasted five seconds.

It wouldn't be my last.

********

Fighting Malenia was... I could barely put it into words.

Radahn was a mountain that moved with the power and suddenness of a rock slide.

He was a force of solid nature.

You either got out of the way, or you got crushed. As befitting his monicker, he would not fall even if the heavens themselves collapsed.

Malenia was a river.

She flowed from one move to the next, no matter what stood between her. She could be a trickling stream or a flash flood. If anything stood in the way of the water, it was either circumvented or battered by the tide until it collapsed.

For soone as infatuated with the sea and water as I was, watching her fight was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

A month was spent in a constant process of death and rebirth.

As a tarnished, so long as my will remained intact and I wasn't slain by Destined Death, I would continue to reform with all my power. I do not know how many tis I died, losing count after the second dozen, but I knew I could end this at any point I wished.

I could snipe her from the branches with my great bow.

I could burn the Haligtree in an unending tide of fire and lighting.

I could summon an army of spirits and lay waste to her.

A hundred and one ideas on how to kill the 'undefeated' flowed through my mind, and I refused to use any of them.

Initially, it had been my promise to Millicent that had stayed my hand. She would never know I broke my word, but I would know.

I did not want to live with that for the rest of eternity.

I continued to fall under the blows of her blade, arms, and legs.

I discarded my shield after the third day.

I dropped the Dark Moon Greatsword and my bow at the site of Grace on the fifth.

The Raging Wolf armour was left there on the seventh, and I faced Malenia in nothing but the plain clothes of champions of the badlands.

As the weeks passed, the white flowers of the field had long turned red with my blood.

And one day, as I stood from my most recent death at the hands of the waterfowl dance, I realized sothing.

I wasn't numb anymore.

"My consort," Ranni spoke up one day. I didn't know when she had awoken. "Why must you fight my half-sister in such a manner? I am sure the valkyrie would rather a lessening of thy suffering, regardless of thy promise."

I didn't answer, just made my way back into the arena.

What had been a burden of a promise had turned into a goal I fought towards. A reminder of sothing I had left behind so long ago in my desperation for Freedom.

There is a feeling all Soulsborne players face at least once in their lives.

There were different nas for it, and everybody faced it at different tis, to different enemies, but I recognized this feeling.

The Wall.

Whether it was against Flalurker, the Asylum Demon, Ornstein and Smough, Black Dragon Kalaet, the Naless King, Father Gascoigne, the Orphan of Kos, Genichiro Ashina, or any number of other challenging bosses in these gas.

All players will eventually et an enemy who completely stonewalls their progress.

Because of unique moves, environnt, or build incompatibility, it didn't matter.

What mattered was what people did when faced with that impassible Wall.

Those who gave up, threw in the towel, gave in to their despair, and stopped playing did not really understand the gas.

They went hollow.

While I never begrudged anyone their choice, as I understood the genre wasn't for everyone, I grieved for them.

I grieved for the joy they missed.

I grieved for the affirmation that ca from climbing that Wall that they would never experience.

I rejoiced for all those who threw themselves against those bloody bricks, whose will and determination t the challenge and laid it low.

So played Souls gas for the lore, so for the PVP or bragging rights.

No matter their reason, I called them my comrades.

For we had all faced and overco our Wall.

The last ti I faced a Wall was against the Orphan of Kos in Bloodborne. Even in DS1, after leaving the cell, if I wasn't skilled enough to confront soone, then I found a workaround.

I shot them from far away.

I buried their hos in fire and rubble.

I ambushed and assassinated when possible.

Only later, when I beca more skilled, did I let go of those desperate ploys at victory. I learned to enjoy combat for the contest of skill it was.

But I always rembered those tactics. They were who I was at my core. Not a hero, a champion, or a knight.

I was a survivor.

They were always a fallback, a way to ensure nobody really stood between

and my freedom.

If the Festival of War failed, I had plans to release a horde of Rot-infested animals upon the Wailing Dunes and assassinate Radahn after he exhausted himself for months. It would take killing all of his soldiers, Jerren included, but it was an option I had considered.

"I would thank Millicent if I could," I told Ranni after I reford.

Bound by her promise, Malenia had beco my Wall.

If I had approached her without that pact, in the state of mind I had fallen into after lina's death, I would have desecrated this duel in the most heinous ways.

I would have missed out on the one feeling all Souls players wish they could feel again.

After all, hit a Wall enough, and it will co down.

Those who tore down the Berlin Wall did not realize the significance of their actions until they were carving the stone to pieces and climbing atop its ruins.

So too, did I not realize the mont until my blade pierced Malenia's chest.

If you were to ask what opening led to

impaling the Demigod, I could not tell you.

We had clashed many tis, traded so many blows and bled the other enough that I could not tell what blood was mine and what was hers. It all flowed into each other.

Even if you threatened

with death, I could not tell you if she had made a mistake or stumbled or if I had simply gotten the better of her.

I was sure I would be unable to answer a single question about what led to that stab for the rest of my life.

I was just as confident I would rember the next few minutes for the rest of eternity.

I withdrew Moonveil and backed away.

I knew what was coming.

I had heard from Millicent the events of the past.

I had waded through the swamps and mire of what had once been the prosperous land of Caelid.

I wasn't surprised when a red flower started to grow from the blood of the Demigod.

I was surprised when I started to sing.

"The colours of his morning,

The darkness of his night,

Little graves that gave no warning,

A sun that brought no light."

For the first ti since lina's death, music flowed from .

I didn't know why this song ca to , despite my love for the Wheel of Ti, but I went with it.

The flower Blood.

"The scarlet bloom flowers once more." Malenia took to the air on Rot-infested wings like a caterpillar erging from its cocoon. Butterflies filled the area. "You will witness true horror. Now, rot!"

Scarlet Rot filled the air, my flesh bubbling and twisting in a familiar sensation of pain and poison.

My voice remained steady.

"He saw his whole world breaking,

That tortured soul I t,

In the prison of his making,

The man who can't forget."

I t her in the air.

Spiritual power gathered at my feet, as Torrent had taught .

Gravity bent to my will, as I had learned from Radahn.

I never found the spell the Crucible Knights used to fly, but I achieved my dream in my own way.

Locked in a dance of death in the air with Malenia, I flew.

And I continued to sing.

"I can still hear the way that he cried,

for the ones he was missing,

I can still hear the way that he cried,

for the ones he had lost."

Malenia assud a familiar stance after a one-footed leap, arm and blade held over her left shoulder in preparation.

It was reminiscent of a waterfowl ready to strike.

I had died to this move an uncountable number of tis.

A series of moves that flowed from one to the other. Over forty swings in five seconds.

That was accounting for the ti she took to reposition.

Each swing had the strength of a tank shell. She threw out dozens per second and was stronger than tens of thousands of n.

I had previously compared Malenia to a river, and the Waterfowl Dance was the flood.

I lept, arms and legs raised in a mirror of the sa stance.

My heart was calm.

My mind was clear.

"He saw them in the rivers,

He felt them in the rain.

In dreams he heard them whisper,

The truth that is his pain."

We danced.

As two rivers flowed down a mountain, we crashed, splashed and combined into one greater torrent.

We flowed over, around, and through each other in a battle so deadly, so intimate that I knew her as well as I knew myself at that mont.

I felt her longing for her brother.

Her absolute trust in him.

Her lonely vigil, waiting for his rebirth.

In the shadow of her wings, I saw the figure of two won.

One with vivid red hair.

One who smiled at

with love.

Our dance ended with each of our blades in the other's hearts.

"Your strength, extraordinary..." she gasped, blood flowing from her mouth. Her wings sagged behind her, and I could no longer see Millicent or lina's shadow.

"The mark... of a true Lord..."

The Wall fell.

Moonveil, wreathed in reddish black energy, pumped slowly with every beat of her heart. Her prosthetic blade fell from my own chest with her.

"O, dear Miquella..." She tried to reach out for the tree with her one real arm. "O, dearest Miquella, my brother... I'm sorry. I finally t my match..."

She collapsed.

Dead.

I pretended not to see that scarlet smile.

It was too familiar.

"He caused the whole world's breaking,

That tortured soul I t.

In a prison of his making,

The man who can't forget."

Blood bubbled from my lips as I finished my song. My power was already working to heal .

I fell backwards, unable to keep my feet.

Four cold, blue arms caught .

Ranni gently poured crimson tears into my mouth, the rejuvenating draught finishing what my spell could not.

One of her hands wiped my face.

When had I started crying?

As if the floodgates had opened, I bawled my pain, despair, and grief into the comforting arms of my companion.

I cried from the self-hatred at being unable to trust.

I cried for the hopelessness I felt in my continued entrapnt.

I cried because I was tired, yet I knew I couldn't rest.

I cried because I would never see the woman I loved again.

I do not know how long I wept, Ranni silently comforting .

When I regained myself, I looked into those expressive blue eyes.

"Thanks," I said simply.

It was all I used to say to lina when she pulled

from myself.

It was all I needed to say to Ranni.

"Of course, my Consort. I shall always be by thy side. Thy guiding moonlight." Unbidden, a chuckle left my mouth at her words. Her doll remained expressionless, but her spiritual body smiled radiantly.

She was terrible at hiding her emotions when it was out.

We stood, facing each other for a mont, but I broke the mont when I approached Malenia's fallen form.

Her Great Rune was as infested with the Rot as she had been. I would need to activate it upon a divine tower, but that was sothing for later.

I picked up the body of the shard bearer and laid her to rest upon the roots of the Haligtree, in that womb-like alcove, under the face in the wood.

"My Consort," Ranni spoke as flas gathered in my mouth. "Miquella is not here."

"I know," I said as I turned to face her. The fire grew behind . Placidusax's Ruin would consu the great tree before the sun rose tomorrow. "If he was here, he wouldn't have left his sister waiting for so long."

I made my way to where my items lay near the site of Grace. As I redonned my armour, I asked the question that had burned

for years.

"I t a man who spoke of a way to save her. A secret way so she wouldn't have needed to burn." I steadily t that bright blue eye, finally asking the question that had haunted my every waking thought for years. "Was there another way? Could I have saved her?"

I didn't know what answer I wanted to hear.

"There was," Ranni answered. I took a deep breath. "Below the Capitol, locked away where no mortal is to reach, lays the Three Fingers. Their hatred and madness could have fueled the flas of the Forge. But any who t those twisted beings were possessed and robbed of their will. They would be bent on burning the world to ash. lina would have left and fought thee before allowing thee to take such a path."

"Thank you," I said as I released my breath. "For being honest."

It didn't matter if I would be locked into the 'bad end.'

It didn't matter if she hated .

There was a way I could have saved her.

I would have to live with that.