A/N: "…"
. . .
The knights of Lord Gwyn weren't of flesh and bones. Indeed, their whole body was made of silver. The Soul Ember was found within the heart of the arch trees and thus I was forged.
My Creator, my Soulsmith saw something… different in my silvery eyes.
I wasn't supposed to think, to feel…to have a will.
All my brothers and sisters were cold and heartless war machines with cogs instead of a beating heart. The man didn't know what to do with me. He waged his enchanted hammer at me considering me as a defect. I pleaded… I tasted fear for the first time.
He stopped. Perhaps I wasn't a defect…perhaps I was a miracle.
. . .
My free will was to remain a dark secret within the walls of Sen's fortress. My creator did his best to teach me the ways of life, history and many more. I began to love the world I was forged into… all but the dragons.
One day, he said, I would face such terrible creatures under Lord Gwyn's banner. For that purpose, we were brutally trained day and night in the fortress.
. . .
Time passed. My feelings continued to grow even more… the knights brought slaves from the north. Giant slaves. Those poor souls did almost all the heavy work. Those who resisted were put to the sword. I started to question my blind royalty.
My mind wandered to realm of freedom, where no wars started and peace was everlasting. Finally, I touched the domain of dreams. My first dream…
My first dream was with my creator.
I woke up drenched in sweat that night. Our barracks wasn't far from the Soulforge. I went to the sleeping Soulsmith to tell him what I saw what I felt. He said dreams were but a reflection of reality. What occurred next was a myriad of emotions, feelings and inner desire. Perhaps I lacked the essence of humans but deep inside, I just knew I am one of them.
. . .
Our forbidden bond was soon to be discovered by master Sen himself. The wicked man stated that my soul was from the fallen enemies of Lord Gwyn looted from the battle field and poured into silver. The Soulsmith was too valuable to be executed.
Unlike me.
Sen considered me as a disease, a plague that could spread and bring the order of the silver knights to an end. Yes, he wanted us to blindly follow his or his superior's commands whether it was of noble cause or beyond one's imagination.
If only I would touch my beloved's fair, harsh skin…. To caress his wild grey hair…
My execution starts with the first light of dawn. Pray we meet together…
. . .
The chosen undead grew tired from guarding Andre in Sens fortress. He owed the old timer for sure but this was time consuming as destiny awaited him in Anor Londo. Alas the blacksmith stopped in a small hidden cell. There was a fainted soul message on the murky, damp floor. It took Andre five good minutes to reader the seemingly old message.
"Are you done?" asked the chosen rudely.
"I…yes, yes. My thanks for helping an old man. Can I ask you another favor?"
"Sure, go ahead. It is not like I am having a curse to break." Andre ignored his rudeness and said "Should you find a rare silver ember, bring it to me. "
"Whatever."
. . .
So as you can see, I am doing some experimentation in regards to my style. Do you like the first point of view? better than third? do you prefer 100% narration or 100% conversation or something in between?
Do please feedback and praise the sun!