Bonfire

A/N: Happy Holidays! Sorry, I know it's been a while but I've had a lot of things to contend and deal with. Namely life, for starters. And I still am and always will be, so these updates will mostly be few and far between but here's one that I've been working on for a while and I'm really proud of it so I hope you guys like it. Now, with that out of the way I proudly present Bonfire!

Sword and Shield

"Hold… hold on… I just wanna… point out… you're big!"

~A Lost Soul.

It was calm.

The atmosphere was cool, collected.

The Fire Keeper sat upon the steps of the shrine, staring at the unlit bonfire, not with her eyes, but with her soul. Despite the lack of fire, she could feel the lingering embers waiting to ignite. She sighed quietly to herself. That same sensation similar to that of longing had managed to creep up on her just as it had the day before and the one before that. It had been a significant amount of time since that last chosen had rose up to face the Lords of Cinder and she'd fallen all too quickly at the hands of Gundyr, the guardian, the right of passage for all the Chosen Undead who'd woke and walked the grain of dirt upon the grounds of the earth. But, she had faith. The Fire Keeper had hope that the next chosen would rise up and walk the lands of Lothric again.

Soon…

(...)

"Ugh…"

It was slow, the rise from his slumber was. Arisen from the ashes as a new being, he walked the earth, one foot after the other, dry lips parting to allow coarse lungs to breath in the heavy air of the atmosphere. He'd yet to learn, but from his rise all manner of creatures had awoken, stirred by the scent of the flame.

"Ooh, my head…"

But this one was different.

"Anyone get the number of that truck that bashed into me?"

He was otherworldly.

Opening his eyes for the first time in a long time, he took in his surroundings, bright orbs of saffron darting from side to side as he recollected his thoughts. "Okay, Conner, where in the actual fuck are you?" Rolling his shoulders and reveling in the satisfying pop, he stood to his full height, grunting as his bones stretched and groaned. "You were in your dorm and you were…" he stepped forward, his black boots crunching the pebbles beneath him. "You were late for class. So you grabbed your phone and your-

He cut himself off, eyes widening.

The blackette spun on his heel, looking to where he'd woken from and, low and behold, there it was. The bag he had grown so accustomed to lay there, covered in dirt, no in soot rather. "… bookbag." Bending down to grab it, he dusted it off, coughing lightly before momentarily staring at it, taking in the faded red of the straps as he sat and opened it up. His notepad sat there, contempt and unmoving along with a black inked pen, a thick sharpie, and a pad of different colored sticky notes. Zipping it back up, he stood, slinging his arms through it and tightening the straps so it wouldn't hang loose from his shoulders. Adjusting the collar of his white v-neck, he plunged a hand into the side pocket of his jeans and retrieved his phone, pressing the home button and unlocking it with his fingerprint, sighing in relief when he watched the home screen slide into view. Putting it back to sleep, he slid it into his pocket and pushed forward, using a hand to lean on the wall beside him.

Clang.

He paused when he felt something underfoot. Looking down, he reached for the object and picked up the sword by the hilt, staring intently at it, rotating it as the glare of the sun reflected off of the surprisingly clean iron blade. And then another glint in the corner of his eye caught his attention. To his left, leaning neatly against a rock, lay a traditional knight shaped shield, a tantalizing circular faded blue crest watching him expectantly. "This is…" he spoke softly to himself, cautiously walking over to the object, looking around it for any sign of a trap. Curiosity did kill the cat and Conner was smart enough to not take too many risks in this unfamiliar place. "You know what." he made up his mind and laid the sword down next to the shield. "I don't wanna take this and get fucked up in case it belongs to someone."

Sighing through his nose, he walked forward and saw a dead end.

"Grooaahh…"

The golden eyed boy stiffened at the foreign sound. The unearthly groan shook him to the very core and left him frozen in fear, as he turned to the right in an almost robotic-like manner. Just as quickly as he saw the origin of the sound did he duck underneath a wild swing before he stepped back, a kick powered by pure reflex propelling his foe away. Then he got a good look at the creature and he immediately wished he hadn't. Soulless black eyes stared at him from within sunken sockets upon a grey face drained of any and all vitality. A corpse looking to be brought back from the grave by an omnipotent force groaned at him in what sounded like an emotion akin to… longing as it retrieved a dagger from its tattered and faded violet cloak.

"Ha…"

It lumbered toward the frozen teen in a most intimidating manner, bony fingers tightening around the hilt of the jagged knife.

"…haa…"

A finger twitched.

Then a leg.

"AHH!"

Turning on his heel, he ran the other way, back to where he came from. "What is that thing?!" He picked up speed. "A zombie?! No! It can't be-?!" Tripping over a stone he tumbled, getting a face full of dirt.

Clang!

"Oof!"

Twisting onto his back, he sat up and wiped the dirt from his face, calming himself as check himself for any cuts or lacerations. Finding every part of himself intact, he stood shakily from fear. And a very rational one it was! A live-ha!-zombie! In the flesh! He began hyperventilating just at the thought of such a creature being more real than myth. No, it had to be a dream. That had to be it, there was no other way.

"Yeah.", Conner told himself. "that's gotta be it."

Pinch.

"..."

Pinch.

"..."

Piiinch.

"Grooaahh…"

The inhumane sound silenced his oncoming hiss as he froze once more. With wide eyes and dilated pupils, he looked up and saw that menacing creature turning its head to regard him, drinking in his fear with a delight the teen just knew it had. Then, as if it were a godsend, a sparkling object in the corner of his vision caught his eye.

The sword.

In all its shining, iron glory it sat there, alongside the shield and was it… staring at him? No, his fear was getting to him. Scrambling for the piercing object, he grabbed its hilt with both hands, rising to his feet in the process. "Alright, c'mere, you impossiblity." Steeling his resolve, he breathed in a slow, calm manner. Raising the surprisingly light sword to eye level, the raven-haired boy watched as the creature lumbered toward him and he could've sworn those eyeless hole glinted for a moment there.

"GROOAHH!"

"YOU'RE MINE!"

The instant the mistake of nature began running toward him, he wound the sword up behind his head like a baseball bat and swung with all the might he could muster. An almost quiet squelching sound elicited from the creature as the smooth metal glided through its neck like a hot knife through butter. Gooey, onyx viscera sprayed out in every direction, narrowly missing the teen before its head rolled off its shoulders altogether, leaving the limp body to follow suit and take its place next to the head on the ashen ground.

"Whew…

He breathed out a sigh of relief, dropping his hands to his sides in exhaustion. He'd never been so exhilarated in such a short amount of time before and to be honest, he felt like it was too much to handle. He tapped the creature's body with his boot in fear of it getting up after he turned his back. He was left with a surprised expression and yet another sigh of relief when the monster poofed out of existence, a small black cloud of ashes signaling its last moments in Lothric.

"Well.", he blinked. "I guess that answers that."

He looked down at the sword and glanced at the shield.

"I hope there aren't anymore."

There were, in fact, more.

By the time he encountered the third one with a flaming crossbow, he'd found himself numbed by it, if only by a little. Raising the shield at such an angle out of pure instinct, he listened to the telltale sound of the weak bolt shattering against the steel of the shield before removing it from view just as quickly, a swift thrust of the blade between the enemy's eyes rendering it nothing more than a pile of dry ashes upon the earth. Conner watched it get pushed away in the oncoming breeze with an eerily calm expression.

Wiping the sweat from his brow with his forearm, he pressed on, walking up the broken steps and out into the unwavering sunlight. "Whoa." Massive, snow-peaked mountains stretched out as far as the eye could see, leaving a massive world ready for exploration open to him. But, what really caught his eye was that imposing tower that stood in the middle of it all, the ruins piercing the heavens before his very eyes. Maybe he could get some answers there. Setting it as a point of interest in the back of his mind, he trailed the path leading up to it with his amber orbs and found he was already on the right track to get there. Pushing ever onward, the college bound teen spotted a sword sticking from the ground in all its coiled glory.

Walking up to it hesitantly, he stabbed his sword into the ground and clipped the lightweight shield onto his bag, walking around it, examining it with his young scientific mind. That's when he found the message. Scrawled onto the floor with what looked to have been their bare hands laid a message and a small flickering voice in the back of his mind told him it was there for him.

"Ignite the fire. Pour your very essence into the embers and rekindle your flame."

Cocking a brow at it, he held a hand out to the sword nonetheless and grasped it by the hilt, but, instead of pulling it from the earth as one would imagine he'd try to do, he pushed it deeper into the ashes piled by the blade, watching as the tongues of a flame long since burned out seemed to ignite themselves, licking at the air, warming the world.

And thus, the first bonfire was lit.

Staring at it a moment longer, he picked his own blade from the ground and pressed on, courage building in his chest when he saw the next zombified soul charge at him, dagger in hand. Angling his shield, he allowed the attack to sheer off to the side harmlessly. Twirling around the enemy with a familiar agileness to his step he didn't know he had, he plunged the blade through his adversary's gut to the hilt with a sharp and swift battecry, ending its life-or at least, what'd become of it.

"Where did all of these things come from?"

Letting the blade drag along the ground as he trudged on, he hopped down off of a ledge and landed on top of what looked like a rather large and faded olive green coffin. He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

A glowing, pearly white ball of energy hovered before him, lifted just slightly so above the rotted corpse sitting there. Curious, he leaned toward it, reached a hand out. Like a symbiotic life form, it shot to his palm, disappearing in a flash. Then, a voice flooded his senses.

I was a warrior, proud and true.

"What the hell?!", he looked around frantically. "Who's there?!"

…

When the voice didn't proceed, he piped down, awaiting it's return.

But, I fell at the hands of Gundyr. Do not underestimate his halberd or your own end shall be swift.

He paused, blinking when the voice and it's presence faded, a new sense of empowerment flooding his entirety as he thought about what he heard. Gundyr? Who the hell is that? He shrugged to himself, hefting the large yet light blade upon his shoulder. Conner supposed he'd meet him soon enough. A halberd, eh? That was a sort of polearm wasn't it? "Hope he's not some random asshole." Hopping down a ledge, he plunged the blade through the skull of yet another zombified entity, sighing as the creature all but melted into a pile of ashes at his feet.

Ting!

The flaming arrow shattered against the wall behind him, splintering as it fell into the ashes below. "Oh, I've so had enough of all of you!" A step forward allowed his diagonal downward slash to eat through the bones and the little bit of flesh still clinging to the zombie's body, slicing through its body with ease from its right shoulder down to the left hip, dragging out a spatter of inky black viscera. Slowly, the top half of the entity's body slide off the rest and flopped to the ground with a disgusting squelch of a sound before both halves exploded in a harmless plume of black smoke.

A big stone archway stood tall before him, erected from the earth in a manner that floored him, left him intimidated. Walking through the broken stone construction he stepped down the stairs with some trepidation, eyes widening at the sight before him.

A massive construct of armor kneeled before him in what looked like an arena filled with candles that seemed to have been burning forever and would continue to do so unless some massive executive order was screwed with on an omnipotent level. Regardless, Conner found himself paying attention to every step, every twitch of every single muscles-his and any belonging to his object of interest-as he made his way over to it. A massive halberd made of some material that looked to be a cross between iron and some kind of stone, just like the set of armor, stood erect from the earth beside it, as though someone stuck it there. Just then, that ominous voice returned.

"Release the blade and prepare for a battle."

He blinked.

Blade?

What bla-?

Then he saw it.

The rusted coiled blade stuck from the hulking creature's chest, digging deep into its heart. He cringed at the sight of it. That must've been excruciating. But, what did that voice mean, "prepare for a fight?" Prepare for a fight from where? Was there someone hiding somewhere nearby? Eyes darting left to right, Conner tried his best to survey his surroundings without being too obvious before he sighed. He was overthinking this, he had to be. "Here, bud. I'll help you out." Stabbing his own straight sword into the ground and clipping the shield onto his bookbag, he gripped the twisted sword with both hands, knuckles whitening as he tightened his hands around them. And then he heaved. Without supreme effort, he drawed the blade from its chest, looking away when a gush of fresh life essence poured from the wound, thick crimson liquid dribbling from the deep trench in its body. Then it twitched. He stood stock straight, frozen in fear as it stood to its full height, filled with energy, pulling the halberd from the earth. It towered over him easily, its dwarfing size blotting out the light of the sun itself. Angling its head down to look at him, it stared ominously, glowing scarlet orbs peering into his soul. Then it looked over to his sword, piercing the ground as it was. Did it… did it want to give him a fair fight?

I fell at the hands of Gundyr. Do not underestimate his halberd or your own end shall be swift.

Conner took a step back at the sound of the broken warrior's voice ringing through his mind once more. He looked the spear up and down once more. Long and protruding, you can bet your life it was intimidating, but he wasn't ready to bet his. "Look, ah… G-Gundyr right?" When it seemed to react to the name, he nodded to himself. "Can we just talk about this? Please?" He seemed to almost considered the offer, as contemplative as he looked behind all that armor, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. Suddenly, a low growl escaped his diaphragm before Gundyr grew erratic, shaking and twitching. Then, before his very eyes, the goliath dropped to his knees again, wrapping its arms around himself. "H-hey, are you alright?" The teen reached out a hand to place on Gundyr's shoulder, but with speed the boy didn't know the other had, Gundyr reached up and grabbed him by the wrist, looking him in the eye.

"Kill me."

When the voice pervaded his mind, he was more shocked at the request than the fact that it was there at all. A thick, black ooze began to seep from the chinks in his armor, pouring out onto the ground and piling up into deep onyx chunks at their feet. When it seemingly became alive and started to crawl up Gundyr's legs, he grew frantic, pulling Conner closer.

"Kill me please!"

The teen pulled his hand away from Gundyr. He could see what was happening here. Did he know what it was? Absolutely not, not a sliver of a clue to what was transpiring before his very eyes came to mind. The voice was quiet, content so all he could hear was the slopping sounds of the ooze and his own thoughts racing to and fro. Subconsciously, he picked his sword from the earth and looked Gundyr in the and he swore he saw him smile; it was sad but it was there. Placing the tip of his blade to the hole where the coiled sword was originally. In a way a rapier user would charge, Conner slid forward, a foreign force compelling him to do so, plunging the blade deep into his chest, so much so that the blade ripped its way out of Gundyr's back. Leaning in next to the halberd-wielder, he whispered solemn words to him, words that both were and weren't his.

"I hope you are reborn happily in your next life."

"Thank you…"

Then hulking mass of armor keeled over the blade and promptly exploded in a blast of powerful wind as his ashes feel to the earth below. The sight of it alone made the boy drop to his own knees.

He stayed there for a long time.