Prologue
They stood atop the stone roof of a decrepit structure by the iron, jagged and enchanted railings. A robed little girl, and a masked old man. The moans and cries of the lost and forsaken souls around them echoed ominously in the darkness of New Londo.
In the levels below, an armoured figure could be seen emerging from a decrepit building— walking amongst corpses of fiendish Darkwraiths and the countless dead that were sacrificed long ago to contain them.
"Magnificent... He's defeated the Four Kings, hasn't he?" Spoke Ingward, the last remaining sealer of New Londo. "That is impressive, even for a bearer of the Lordvessel."
"I had no doubts for his success," said the little girl in Ingward's company, with a relieved smile on her lips.
"With this, my purpose is exhausted," the sealer told her. "But what of you, little lady?"
The child's eyes never left the form of the Four Kings' slayer, who slowly approached the elevator to the upper level.
"My purpose lies with him, mister Ingward."
Ingward looked at the little girl, and his gaze seemed somewhat sympathetic despite his expression being concealed by his beaked mask.
"Even if that road is lined with thorns?" He asked.
"Even if that road leads to ruin."
"You may find only betrayal and darkness at the end."
The girl finally looked to Ingward, and she smiled warmly— a smile of sincerity and faith.
"Even so, I will walk that road," she told Ingward with resolution. "All the other paths for me have been long destroyed."
"I see... Then, I will say no more." Ingward turned away, and looked to the levels below.
"I will stand by him until the end."
The child clutched her talisman to her chest, and she closed her eyes. A prayer then escaped her lips.
"Vereor Nox."
Just how long, has it been? Since my fate had led me to his side?
The flames fade...