Forgotten words

He looked upon the ocean far beneath Majula. The moonlight sparkled upon the water that crashed against the shore, filling the tranquil air with a soft rush. He brushed his fingers trough his brown hair. Most denizens who called Majula their home had returned to their sleeping place.

When he arrived her, most of them slept just outside, neither the dark nor the cold bothered them, being undead had it´s advantages. But after he unlocked the great mansion, most retired there for the night. True it made no real difference if they slept outdoor on the ground or on the mansion ground, yet, most used the shelter the ruin offered. He was one of them. Sometime he wondered why. Maybe because like that they were more than the mindless undead that roamed the land? Proving that they were still able of more-or-less rational thought, clinging to the last bits of humanity they have left?

Humanity, he scoffed softly. What was being human? And what difference was between them and undead like him? He shook his head slightly. The question was without meaning, long ago he had stopped musing about it, only now and then it returned to him.

Again his green eyes found the sparkling of water, a glistening almost mesmerizing. Though the sparkle captured his attention again and again, he did not find it beautiful. A meaningless word for him. It was a really long time that he used that word, the curse had stolen almost everything from him, even most of his emotion. Now the world was a dull, desolate place. The brown of earth, the blue of the sky, the red of blood, it was all the same. Just like his past, beauty was forgotten by him.

"Bearer of the Curse" a soft voice behind him drew his attention. "Lady Emerald Herald" he replied, without looking behind. "Shouldn´t you rest? Tomorrow is an important day." "The final challenge, the last obstacle. When I lose, I will spend the rest of my life in darkness, when I win..." he stopped, not knowing how to continue. What then? What would happen if he would win? He didn´t know. He didn´t know why he did the things he did, why he defeated all those powerful undead that succumbed into darkness. Like something was driving him to do so. He didn´t know, he didn´t even cared, he simply did. Maybe because it was all he had left. His past and memories were swallowed by the curse, fighting was everything he could still remember.

"I will be by your side, until the end, until hope has completly withered." A strange sound escaped him, a sound he had not made in a long time, a sound he once called a chuckle. "Do you think I will lose?" He received no answer. "Do you think I will win?" But again the rush of water was the only sound. "A well, it doesn´t matter, really. One way or the other, it ends tomorrow."

He could hear her soft foot steps that began leaving him, so he called out to her. "Lady Emerald Herald." She stopped. "What will happen? When I win, I mean. Will that break the curse?" She was silent for a moment. "I do not know what the future holds nor do I know what fate has planned for you."

His eyes left the surface of the water and wandered towards the dark horizon that was impossible to make out. What was that just now? The strange tinge in her voice. If his memory of emotions served him right it was a mix of sadness, with a tinge of emotion that was dead in Drangleic: hope. She was one of the very few he encountered in this forsaken lands that was still able to express other emotions than madness, despair or lethargy.

"Jegan" he suddenly said, before he slowly turned around and glanced at her face. She seemed confused, unsure what to do, waiting for him to continue. With the moonlight on her face, she seemed so much more than the woman who was standing right in front of him. Something just...more. "Jegan, my name. The name of the man i once was" he said, before he turned away from her. His eyes wandered towards the sky, stars sparkled on the dark velvet the night dressed itself in.

His right hand wandered towards his left shoulder, where his cursed mark was located. "No matter if I win or if I lose, soon I will be no more. My memories and my past were swallowed by darkness. All I have left is my name and even that will soon be lost." He turned towards her again. "So i entrust it to you. Like that, someone will still know who I am, even if I forget myself. Like that, atleast my name will prevail." Again he began to chuckle, before he turned away from her. "That is, until I am forgotten, happens all the time. I guess there is nothing I can do about it" he sounded just as hopeless as all the others. His voice changed his tune, similiar to the sadness she had expressed. "I am sorry to burden you with it, but allow me to be selfish this time. I know I have not the right to ask this of you, but..." he stopped when he felt something on his shoulder.

His eyes found a gloved hand, his eyes traveled along an arm and found her moonlit face again. "Do not worry. Let me share your burden. I will remember your name", she paused for a moment, "Jegan." It sounded like silk from her lips. He nodded as did she, then she turned around and began walking away.

He turned towards the sky again, and his eyes gazed upon the moon. His hand glided to where she had touched him. A strange warmth filled him. It was not the simply warmth from a sunny day. It was not even the comfortable warmth of a bonfire. It was something more. And with the warmth another feeling embraced him, it was not unlike the rush he felt when fighting, but it was comfort.

Another word came to his mind. No, not a word, just the void of a word, a feeling of word, for the word was lost to him. A word for friendship, for trust, for closeness, but more. A word for warmth, for comfort, for happiness, but more. A word to express close feelings.

He shook his head again to clear his mind. Another word that was the same category for him like "beautiful", and that category was "useless". He remember her face and for a single moment his lips turned upwards, forming a facial expression he had long forgotten. Maybe, just maybe, those words were not as useless as he thought them to be.