The fog wall in front of her shimmered and wobbled, hiding whatever horrors stood beyond it. She had been fighting for too long to think otherwise. Rowena blinked a few times, ignoring her trembling arms. At this point, she had no way of knowing if they were trembling because of her nerves or her lack of strength. She looked up, brown eyes drinking in the grandiose architecture of Anor Londo.

Every spiraling staircase, every hooded guardian, every brutal giant, brought her to this moment. The brilliant sun cast golden light on everything, and at first glance, Rowena thought Anor Londo to be a refuge from her trials. Perhaps, despite her quest for the Lordvessel, she was too optimistic. However, she saw no alternative aside from the despair that plagued this land. So she pushed through enemy after enemy, dispelling the overwhelming darkness from her thoughts until she found herself here, in front of what she could only assume was another test. After so many battles, she thought her fear would disappear. Her hesitation proved otherwise.

She glanced over at her summoned phantom. Solaire. As hopeful as she could be, Rowena never hoped to match his sunny outlook, his sheer determination. In a land so consumed by despair, it was difficult to believe someone to be so optimistic. She could only hope it, along with his strength, would guide her through another fight.

"This...is reckless," she mumbled, heaving her sword up on her shoulder as she cast her gaze towards the fog again. "This is the last time I wield anything received from a Black Knight. But if it helps…" She took a short breath, her mouth dry. "Just this once." Her hands gripped the hilt of the sword tightly.

"Alright, Solaire." She took a step forward. "Follow me."

Rowena breathed one last time before stepping through the fog, her phantom companion quickly following suit. As she gazed at her surroundings, she noted the similar arches and spires found throughout Anor Londo. The sun shone through towering, ornate windows, and the marble floor beneath her seemed to glimmer in its beams. What was dreadfully apparent, however, was the figure standing on the other side of the room.

A giant adorned in shining gold armor guarded the path with an incredibly large hammer in hand. How anyone could wield such a weapon was a terrifying mystery. He stood perfectly still, a sentry in the shadows, waiting for her approach. Rowena swallowed hard, holding her weapon with all of her might as she stepped forward, bracing herself for imminent impact. After five steps, she stopped. The giant never moved once. She squinted, briefly wondering if he was a statue meant to throw her off.

The sound of metal hitting marble drew Rowena's attention towards the upper balconies.

She nearly dropped her weapon on her foot at the sight of the golden knight above them. At least, the sheen and lion design of his armor told her he was a knight of sorts. From her position on the floor, she could just make out the sharp, bared teeth on the helmet and the jewel-adorned chest plate. A great red plume flowed out of the top of his helmet, and a long, deadly spear was his weapon of choice. Rowena briefly saw herself impaled on the end of it and shivered.

The knight turned his attention towards her, holding her in place with a simple stare. Even with no visible eyes, he sliced into her soul. She let out a sharp gasp as, moments later, he vaulted over the balcony railing. The giant shifted his grip on his hammer, wielding it with both hands. Soon after, the knight landed gracefully next to his companion, hardly bending his knees as he did so. The pair stood there briefly as Rowena quickly processed her situation.

"Solaire," she whispered, "if you can hear me…"

The knight shifted his grip on his spear, rushing towards her before she could blink.

"RUN!"

The air from the spear's movement flowed past Rowena's head as she rolled away and broke into a sprint. A nearby column shattered. She yelped, dodging the debris. The giant was upon her when she rose. A swing from his hammer nearly sent her into the wall. Rowena rolled and heaved her sword into his leg. Laughter rang in her ears. Something slim smacked her torso. Electricity coursed through her body as she flew and slammed into the floor .She caught her breath, then staggered to her feet. Solaire was distracting the knight. She looked up, yelping again as the hammer nearly crushed her. A quick swig from her Estus Flask saved her from death.

The edge of the giant's hammer caught her leg before she could dodge. Her impact with the floor was hard, a screech leaving her throat upon contact. Laughter made her freeze again. Rowena rose after a few seconds, taking a slow jog around her foe. She swung her sword, metal scraping against marble before making contact with armor and flesh. The giant stumbled. Rowena swung her sword again. Pain flared in her shoulders. She slammed her body into the floor to avoid the hammer. Armor collided with bone and knocked the air out of her lungs, leaving her prone. A flat part of the giant's hammer rose above her. Rowena shut her eyes, bracing for impact.

Within seconds, the giant let out an agonized roar. Rowena opened her eyes. Electricity sparked from his back. One of Solaire's bolts. She smiled and dragged herself to stand. Sweat pooled between her fingers. The scents of blood mingling with metal wafted in and out of her nose. She gritted her teeth and heaved her sword twice before backing away. A bolt of lightning skimmed her armor, singeing the loose hair on her left side. She jumped, whipping around as the giant walked towards her. A labored thrust of her weapon helped her avoid his attack, stabbing his closest leg in the process. Rowena took another drink from her flask in time for the knight's spear to send her flying across the room. She slammed into the marble, paralyzed from the pain.

Rowena didn't know how long she'd been on the floor when she could finally see, but a loud crash of armor on marble had her scrambling to her knees. As her hands touched the floor for support, the giant fell at last with one last slice from Solaire's sword. A victorious grin graced her features briefly, only to fall when the golden knight landed beside his fallen companion. His hand stretched out to touch the giant. Her eyes widened, and a strained yell ejected itself from her throat before she could think otherwise.

"STOP!"

The knight paused, withdrew his hand, and slowly turned to look at her. She froze, although her hands barely held her up. After a pause, Rowena stumbled to her feet and tread carefully across the room towards him, never breaking eye contact. Her entire body begged for death with every shuffling step, but her mind set her on a different course. She stopped just feet away from the knight, then slowly sheathed her sword. With the strength she had left, Rowena knelt on one knee in front of her standing foe, gaze focused on his feet.

This was reckless.

Then again, so was wielding a weapon she could barely lift.

"Fair knight," she began, her voice strained, "I know it is your duty to battle me and keep guard of this cathedral. What you protect is of invaluable importance. But please, hear my words." Rowena took a shaky breath. "I have no desire to fight you. In my travels across Lordran, I have killed countless beings like myself, gone mad from Hollowing. You may consider this a mercy, but I consider their ends fruitless, thankless. And...in continuing my quest, I wish to free them from this pain. Nothing more, nothing less."

Rowena paused to gather her thoughts. Before she could speak again, the sharp tip of the knight's spear dug into her left shoulder. She stopped herself from flinching.

"Countless Undead have attempted to trick me with less," he replied, irritation in his tone. "You dare to believe I will be merciful?"

"Not believe," she said. "I...I can only hope you will decide to spare me."

"And why, pray tell, do you cling so dearly to this wish?"

Rowena blinked, her gaze still locked onto the same spot. It had been so long since she first set out on this journey. The Northern Asylum seemed nothing but a distant dream. Yet, after all of this time, she still held on to something. What it was exactly was unclear, but she had to reply. She did not relish the idea of the knight's spear jamming any further into her skin.

"Perhaps I wish for a peaceful world," she started at last, "a world free from this curse. If what I have been told is to be believed, coming to this place was the next step to achieving this. And...there is enough death and misery in this world without my help. I long to break the cycle of bloodshed. Which is why I come to you with a bargain, guardian of Anor Londo."

Rowena inhaled sharply as the spear dug further into her shoulder.

"Then speak, Undead, before your time is wasted."

She nodded, then continued. "I wish to retrieve the Lordvessel peacefully. If you would spare my life and allow me to pass without bloodshed, I will take with me what I need and never return to these hallowed halls. As for my worth...how many other Undead have attempted to make peace with their attackers?"

Silence filled the room, gnawing at her ears. Her legs trembled from supporting her weight. She willed herself not to fall over. Her breaths came quiet, slow, agonizing. Sweat dripped from her forehead, a tiny drop hitting the floor near her foot with a silent splash. Her throat began to burn when the spear was finally withdrawn. Rowena caught herself before she could tumble face first onto the marble.

"On your feet." She looked up. The knight still had his spear in hand, but it was no longer pointing in her direction. Rowena pushed herself upright, then teetered to her feet, swaying slightly. She almost fell over when she realized how tall the knight was in comparison to herself.

"I thank you," she mumbled.

He gently shook his head. "Your life is not in my hands, but in the hands of Her Majesty. She shall determine if you are as worthy as you claim." He gestured towards the back of the room. Rowena turned, noting the two archways. Ignoring her aching body, she began walking, the clanging of armor never far behind. She took shallow breaths, the weight of her own armor beginning to take its toll. Soon, the pair came upon an elevator not unlike the ones she'd seen upon arrival: a flat, circular platform that was transported up and down by a spiraling brown mechanism. She stepped onto it, blocking out the presence of the knight temporarily as they ascended.

Upon reaching the second floor, Rowena caught sight of an unlit bonfire. Despite its odd placement, she almost dashed towards it, as she was prone to doing after precarious battles. This time, however, she held back and calmly stepped off of the elevator, pausing just in front of it.

"Am I permitted to rest before my audience with Her Majesty?" Rowena asked.

A short pause followed her inquiry.

"Make it brief."

She acknowledged his command, then strolled over to the bonfire as if she had just arrived to Firelink Shrine for the first time all over again. She silently lit it and collapsed in front of the small flame, all of her muscles giving up at once.

As the fire's warmth soothed her aching body, her mind set into motion. In one moment, she'd made a decision she was sure would have simply led to her death. The disbelief pervading her thoughts kept her on the floor longer than she liked, her brown eyes following the flickering flames. She was grateful for this spot of rest and respite, but how long could she remain civil before everything fell apart once more? Would she make it beyond this bonfire, or would the knight watching her every move decide to end her? She balled her hands into fists and drew them close to her chest, her breaths steadily coming easier. This wasn't much, but in a world that sought to kill her, she would take these small, peaceful moments while she could.

Rowena rose after what felt like an eternity of staying motionless on the cold floor. Her joints no longer yearned for the sweet release of death, but the armor she wore continued to weigh her down. She let out a soft sigh as she rolled her shoulders and glanced at the double doors in front of her. The lady behind them would mark her fate. She dispelled the thought and slowly walked forward and up the stairs, coming face to face with the doors sooner than expected. As much as she tried to ignore it, the knight's stare dug into the back of her skull. She flexed her hands once, placed them on the ornate doors and pushed them open, bracing herself to face the person behind them.

She stopped and gazed at the woman in front of them, a hand flying to her mouth. This royal woman was unlike anyone she had ever seen before. Long, brown curls flowed like gentle waves from her head down her back. She was clothed in pure white, her dress flowing around her and to the floor in delicate strips as she reclined upon a couch and pillow. Rowena grew warm at the sight of the woman, whose radiant skin and kind smile were the complete opposite of everything the struggling Undead had encountered in Anor Londo. Only the sun dared to intrude light upon this scene, illuminating the draping curtains surrounding the lady.

Maybe she had a chance, after all.

"Thou hast journey'd far and overcome much, chosen Undead," the woman said, her voice melodic and smooth. "Come hither, child."

Rowena hesitated, but let a small smile cross her face as she stepped towards the woman and knelt before her.

"O Chosen Undead. I am Gwynevere, Daughter of Lord Gwyn and Queen of Sunlight." She paused for a moment. "And I see thou hast spared the knight guarding my quarters. For what reason hast thou done this?"

Any warm feelings she'd had were gone the moment she was reminded of her adversary's existence. Rowena bit her lip, about to speak when the knight spoke instead.

"It was per the Undead's request, Your Majesty," he started, his tone devoid of his previous annoyance, "that the Lordvessel be retrieved without further violence. I have brought her to your quarters so you may pass final judgment upon her."

Rowena's fingernails dug into her palms. This was the moment that would define her progress, all of her efforts up to this point. She bowed her head further, awaiting Gwynevere's decision.

"Thine efforts do not go without purpose, Dragon Slayer Ornstein," said Gwynevere, her voice as soft as before. "Thou hast ushered in a thoughtful and knowledgeable Undead. She is a worthy successor to my father, indeed."

At those words, Rowena exhaled, being careful to keep it discrete. So Ornstein was the knight's name. Now she could take proper care to forget it entirely once she left this place.

"Which is why I bequeath the Lordvessel unto thee, Chosen Undead," Gwynevere continued.

Rowena glanced up, and a strange golden bowl-like object appeared before her. She reached out and touched the rim, the texture as smooth as the marble of Anor Londo. At her contact, the Lordvessel disappeared in an orange flash of light, glowing embers surrounding her armored hand.

"Unbelievable," Rowena breathed.

"And beseech thee, succeed Lord Gwyn, and inheriteth the fire of our world. With the aid of the Dragon Slayer, thou shall endeth this eternal twilight, and avert further Undead sacrifices."

She took a moment to process Gwynevere's words. Succeed Lord Gwyn, end the eternal twilight with-

Wait.

It had to be a mistake.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty," Ornstein started, his confusion apparent, "I do not believe the Chosen Undead requires my aid in this matter. She had journeyed this far on her own. Surely she is capable enough to go further."

"I disagree, dear Dragon Slayer," Gwynevere replied. "Thine life has been spared by my father's successor. Perhaps her actions are a sign of her needs. Journey with her, and ensure that darkness does not engulf our world."

Panic welled in Rowena's throat. This couldn't be possible. Maybe this entire experience was some sort of nightmare, worse than the ones she'd had in recent memory. She took a shuddering breath, praying to whatever gods would show mercy that this proposal would never come to-

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

Rowena bit back a groan of exasperation. She glanced over at Ornstein, who was slowly getting to his feet. He looked at her, the eyes of his helmet shining with an almost expectant gleam. Pushing away her racing thoughts, Rowena stood up, taking one last look at Gwynevere before walking out of the room, her hands trembling.

Her current visit to the bonfire was supposed to be a happy one, one to celebrate her victory in obtaining the Lordvessel. She had pictured herself giddy, laughing in relief that her effort hadn't ended in death for once. Now, she wished Ornstein had struck her down in the cathedral over and over again until she slaughtered him per the course. She stared into the flames, ignoring the golden glimmer across from her until required.

"So, O Chosen Undead," Ornstein said, his voice heavy with mockery, "will you go back to the slaughter so soon?"

Rowena glared. "As much as you wish that upon me, no." She crossed her arms. "We are going to Firelink, unless you want to disobey your charge."

Ornstein took a breath, then mimicked her pose.

"Lead the way, then."

She sighed and shut her eyes, just about to get up from her spot when a warm sensation filled her body. The hand brushing the marble floor soon found soft blades of grass, and a small breeze blew through her loose strands of hair. She opened her eyes, disappointed to find the golden knight sitting across from her.

Rowena wondered how many times she could throw herself into Blighttown before her death became permanent.