Dragon's Dogma: The Devourer
By: Ser Savan ()
Dedicated to all of the Dragon's Dogma folk on Tumblr, well met friends!
Spoilers: Take care you aren't soaked in spoilers! (There be 'sort of' spoilers below)
Outline: This story follows on from the 'true' conclusion to Dragon's Dogma but just before the Godsbane Blade incident. This is a continuation of the life of the Arisen once the mantle of 'Seneschal' has been accepted.
Notes: I will be referring to the main character as the "Arisen", despite the compelling arguments for a named character or a more apt title I think this is the one that suits the 'Arisen' character best. The Arisen is a female sorcerer and her Pawn is a male ranger called Nier, there may be class changes in the future. Also, this was actually started before Dark Arisen was released, therefore, the expansion has not been factored in to the Arisen's journey.
Chapter 1: Black Matter
"I am free of eternity. Free of the cruel, unending ring…"
The final words of the former Seneschal, Savan, resonated within the Arisen's mind as she sat on the throne within the Seneschal's Chamber. Those words had grown in their profoundness with the passage of time. The absolute solitude of the empty gloomy world around her seemed almost cruel and akin to a punishment for an unknown crime. She noticed a slight movement and glanced to her side where Nier was stood, attentive as always.
This is eternity, she thought to herself, this is what the rest of time holds until the next Arisen comes.
After Savan had vanished she was left feeling strangely overwhelmed with basic questions. Things she should have asked him that had only struck her once the opportunity to raise them had passed. Initially, her efforts as Seneschal had been clumsy, resulting in several hard-learned lessons. Gradually her abilities in managing the world and its many denizens improved, but with her new found competence came a bitter twinge of malaise.
With increasing regularity she would slip out of her domain and visit the land of Gransys to see how it was faring. Whilst present she would assist the people with minor miracles such as a new vein of ore for the traders of Gran Soren or a bountiful supply of fish for the folk of Cassadis. She was careful to measure her 'boons' despite occasionally longing to provide something frivolous and extravagant. She was pleased to see the landscape was repaired and the people of Gransys were living their lives more comfortably since the aftermath of her ascension to Godhood. The visits gave her a much needed opportunity to observe the world and its development under her guidance. They were also selfish, providing her with a sense of satisfaction in occupying her time with actions rather than observations. These 'boons' had become a welcomed, almost addictive, distraction from boredom. Though, it was always short-lived and dampened by duties of a more grim nature.
As the "Seneschal" she was tasked with the micromanagement of everything relating to the world that she was considered the 'sovereign' of, which included the taking of life. It was a task that she approached with sobriety, and often struggled with. It had been particularly difficult to steal the Chief of Cassadis, Adaro, away from his people. The mourning festival had lasted 10 days and the people remained subdued for weeks after. Their only reprieve had been to celebrate the ascension of the new Chief, Quina, to her role.
In complete contrast, the day of the Duke's death was undertaken with absolute indifference. Memories of his attempted betrayal and madness persisted in her mind as she drove the Godsbane Blade through his chest. It had been a sunny morning in Gran Soren and the Duke was holding a meeting regarding the future development, and expansion, of his beloved city. Mid-speech the Arisen readied her blade and stabbed him in the heart. None of the onlookers could see her or the wound she left on his body. His chamberlains had rushed to his side but they could not save their Duke, no matter how many priests prayed nor alchemists brewed. Thus, it was assumed that he had died from natural trauma 'given his age'.
The Arisen sat up, roused from her day dreams, Nier looked to her with his strangely hollow eyes and offered her a doll-like quirking of his lips, his best attempt at a smile. Nier was a tall, youthful warrior who had served her faithfully from the moment she touched the Riftstone. The moment of his 'birth' had been a shock to her. As he manifested before her she had looked at his face and found that it was painfully similar to her best friend, whom she had taken to calling 'brother' in her youth. She was devastated when he was lost at sea. The pawn's skin had bore the same slight bronze-tint from a life lived under the sun, his eyes were a vibrant sky blue and his short, scruffy black hair was the unmistakeable 'style' that her best friend had been proud of. It was so uncanny that she had been unable to stop herself from crying at the sight of him. Rook had told her that most Arisen reported similar stories of their pawn bearing a likeness to a friend or loved one and to 'avoid feeling any sense of alarm' by this likeness. Yet his smiling eyes, though hollow, still disconcerted her.
For a long time after their first meeting the Arisen had struggled with the innate desire to call Nier "brother". The pawn had assured her that she could call him 'whatever' pleased her, when the word occasionally slipped out, but despite these assurances she maintained that she would learn to call him "Nier". Because he was not her 'brother', he was a 'pawn'. Nier never expressed offence when faced with her defensiveness. In fact he was never offended by anything, even the occasional misguided spell hitting him in the back…
"Arisen… Does something trouble you?" He asked in a pleasant tone.
She shook her head, "No… I … was just trying to think of what to do with myself..."
"Mayhaps it would please you to visit Gransys again? It usually pleases you well enough."
"No… I don't think it will today."
"Very well." He was clearly out of suggestions.
She stood from the throne and walked a few steps into the strange Rift-like fog that surrounded her. Smokey clouds billowed over her head and a quicksilver mist disrupted her long-distance view of the never-ending horizon. The silvery floor rippled under her boots like ethereal water. As she walked, the sight of the floor rippling beneath her always left her feeling a little dizzy. Nier trailed behind her maintaining a few steps distance as she led the way. She knew better than to run in any one direction for an extended duration; it did not matter how far she ran – every step led back to the throne.
Savan's words grew even heavier as time passed. For the first time since receiving the mantle of "Seneschal", she felt that she was beginning to understand the gravity of 'eternity', the meaning of it: stretching endlessly before her without any clear terminus.
"Arisen… perhaps I could massage your shoulders or brush your hair to cheer you up?" Nier offered as they walked.
"Thank you, Nier," The Arisen smiled softly, "I appreciate your offer but I'm just feeling out of sorts today."
"Oh… I see."
"I will be better in the morning."
"Very well."
The morning came and the sense of melancholy remained.
The Arisen had known that it would, she realised that her days of roaming and having a direct hold on her future were over. Now she was the one guiding everything else in the world below her. She was led by nothing save for her own moral code and her overarching sense of 'duty' to the creatures of Gransys. That was what was keeping her 'alive'.
Nier attempted a smile when she looked at him, "Good morning, Arisen."
"Good morning Nier."
"Did you rest well?"
"Yes…" It was a lie.
"Very good." Nier was incapable of picking up 'tone' unless it was directly put to him, so the mild flatness in her voice was lost on him.
For a while she watched Nier and wondered what it must feel like to be a pawn. He was not disturbed or embarrassed by her stares. He simply continued to offer her his shade of a smile and the occasional vocal observation;
"T'will be morning in Gransys."
"Indeed."
"Will you be travelling there?"
"… No," The Arisen looked around and pulled the Godsbane Blade from her hip, "I'd rather try something else…"
"Something else?"
"Yes." She thumbed the edge of the blade and swiftly pulled her hand away as it nicked her, blood pooled in a neat line across the blade's edge. She watched the spread of crimson and dully noted that there was now a golden iridescence to her blood, same as Savan. She recoiled in disgust, hating that little nuance.
"I would ill advise you to hurt yourself, Master, t'would be unfortunate if you were to die."
"Unfortunate…" How very… 'pawn-like' she thought to herself. She felt 'stung' by his words; by the fact that it would be a mere expression of 'misfortune' rather than a devastating loss, or even saddening. She would have settled for saddening.
Their conversation ended abruptly and the Arisen turned her attentions to the world around her; the endless grey of dark matter. It was dull and uninspiring despite being the font of all creation, a 'blank canvas' for her to work as she saw fit. It swirled broodingly overhead and enfolded her like a dark cloak. She felt chained to the void, akin to a prisoner.
She had spent the previous night dwelling on her situation and with her musings came a strong sense of revulsion. As she tried to dismiss the unpleasant emotions, an inspiration had manifested within and it refused to release its hold on her. That single thought had persisted in her mind the following morning. It drove her steps forward as she approached her throne. Determination and hope bubbled up inside of her with each step. Her heart pounded in her chest in raw excitement as she clutched at the Godsbane Blade with sweaty palms.
"AAAAAAAAAARRRRGHHHHHHHHH!"
With a shout, formed of several conflicting emotions, she drove the Godsbane Blade deeply into the imposing lump of stone. The blade bit deeply into the seat, sinking down to its hilt.
Nier watched on quietly, he made no comment or took any immediate action in response to the sudden deed. Eventually, after a long pause, his voice broke the heavy silence, "Are you alright, master?"
"No," was the breathless reply, "I'm not alright, Nier."
"Oh. Then… what can I do to help?"
"Nothing."
"… Nothing?"
"Nothing…"
The pawn was silenced. The Arisen, feeling slightly guilty at her inability to talk to Nier, closed her eyes and stole a moment of peace. Her head cleared of all thoughts and feelings. She clutched around the hilt of the blade, she could feel her nails biting into her palm as she clung to it too tightly. Time seemed to slow to an unbearable crawl and a sense of blankness consumed her; she had no idea of what to do with herself. She felt foolish for her outburst, like a child having a tantrum. Savan had coped with 'eternity' for an age longer than she had. Had he felt the same way? A youth, barely a man, suddenly forced in to the role of 'keeper' to the world. Did he accept it with maturity? Or did he lash out as she had done?
If only she could ask him; there were many questions she would have asked him, if he were to offer his wisdom now. She bit her lip and shook her head in an attempt to quash the melancholy that had gripped her. She was fully aware that her situation was caused by none other than herself. She had 'willed' this, she had fought for this and she had killed for this moment. She resolved inside herself that she should face eternity with dignity and acceptance. This was her choice and she should, and would, honour it.
Her hand relaxed around the hilt of the Godsbane Blade and she straightened herself up to stand before the throne. She turned to look at Nier, about to speak, to apologise, when she was cut off by a strange sound; the chair began to groan as the sharp sound of splitting rock filled the silence, a river of cracks spread across its surface and suddenly, it shattered into several pieces which clattered across the floor at the Arisen's feet.
She looked at the fragments in dumbfounded silence before crouching down to inspect the shards intently. Her eyes widened as they started to melt into a sickly and dark liquid. The black water spread over the silvery floor and stained it with a darkness that was black as night, yet edged with ethereal luminosity.
It spread like an aggressive virus and within moments she was surrounded. The Arisen looked down at her feet and quickly realised that she was slipping downwards. With a yelp she reached out for something to hold on to but her chamber was empty and the blackness was all she could see, bleeding out all around her.
"Master!" A hand suddenly shot out towards her and she gripped it; Nier was pulling with all his might but it was a vain effort as the blackness spread under his feet and pulled him down with her.
Master and pawn were consumed, drowned in the murky depths of the chair's black blood. The Arisen struggled against the heavy waters as they washed over her face. It became clear that she could not resist it any longer, unconsciousness claimed her. She could faintly hear Nier's voice as she slipped away;
"Master… wh… is… hap..ening..?"
Then all was swathed in silence...
Phew. This has been sitting on my computer since last year, I started it a while back but have spent a long time fussing over it. So far there are 3 chapters completed with a 4th on the way!
In Chapter 2 a familiar face joins the Arisen and a new 'quest' begins...