As always, I don't own the Dark Souls Series. This wonderful game and its series is entitled to FromSoftware and Bandai Namco Entertainment.
Rekindle the Fire, Ashen One.
A bell chimed, echoing through the darkness of a graveyard. The few inhabitants of the graveyards payed no mind to the toll, as they had no mind anymore. Some of the dead in the coffins stirred, but never awoke. However, only two managed to fully awake from their undeath.
He slowly woke from his ancient slumber, and took his surroundings in. He was in a coffin of sorts, but a small crack of light seeped through the right side of it. Getting his bearings, he felt he was covered in armor, unsure of what kind since he was laying down and offered only a sliver of light.
He felt a feeling that he should get up, and leave this accursed box. A nagging urge forced him to push the lid off his stone coffin, and was greeted to a light grey sky full of clouds that blocked portions of sunlight. He rose slowly and a dark-grainy substance fell off him, he caught it in the cup of his hand.
Ash.
He let it drop to the bottom of the coffin to add to the heap that now covered his armored knees. He got a good look at the armor now. Sleek and shiny greaves with a pointed, armored foot peeked out from the ash that was covering them, torn chainmail covered his waist and a metal chest piece that was adorned by a torn, grey cloth that covered the top of his chest armor. He realized for the first time he was wearing a helmet, but didn't dare take it off, for he knew not of where he was.
He noticed something in the corner of his coffin, he leaned forward and grasped it in his hand. He took a closer look at it, it was a flask of sorts, it was a dull green with a few cracks in the side. He shrugged and clipped it onto his belt on his waist.
He stood fully and felt his muscles groan at the long-forgotten movements and his back stretched with a few satisfying and some painful pops. Hauling himself out of his grave he pondered where he was with hand underneath where his chin would be, and he replayed the voice that he heard first awoke.
Rekindle the Fire, Link the First Flame.
He paused in his musing, what was the First Flame? Where was he? He looked around his surroundings; a graveyard. He snorted, that answers one question, he thought.
He didn't remember anything. He held his hand to his head, hoping to revive some distant memories, but none came. He felt an emptiness within him, gnawing at him to be whole again. He turned his gaze to the coffin one last time, and peered at the ash inside. It felt familiar to him, and he reached out and grasped some of it and let it slip form his hand between his fingers. He didn't know what it was and that annoyed him greatly, he grunted and shook away the frustration, there were more important thing to do than wallow in his own problems right now.
A shimmer sparkled nearby and it caught his eye, and he turned his gaze towards it. Leaning against his coffin, was a sword sticking out of the dirt and a shield carelessly discarded a few feet behind it against a tree. He moved slowly towards it, biding his time. As he neared the blade he noticed that, it too, was covered in ash, as was the shield. Peculiar. He thought as he gripped the handle of the blade and pulled it free from the earth, dispelling the ash that remained onto it, and sheathed it in his thigh. He moved toward the shield that was half buried in some mudded area. When he reached it, he wiped away the ash on its face and looked at the newly revealed crest. Pictured onto the shield was a dragon in front of a sun that seemed to give off a soft shine. Shrugging, he yanked the shield out of the mud and hooked it onto his back.
Staring down the path, he sighed in annoyance, this was going to be a long walk. He started off toward the only path that was lined with sealed coffins. As he entered a small clearing, he saw a figure in black, tattered robes. Seemingly waiting for something to happen.
The knight made his way slowly into the clearing, looking at the stranger before him. He stopped a short distance away, and he raised his hand carefully as a greeting, but he struggled to find his voice to fully greet the stranger before him. As he looked closer at the man before him, he recoiled slightly, caught off guard by the appearance of the creature before him. The creature had no eyes, its face was horribly calloused and moldy looking, it had no eyes and few teeth and was very frail looking; evidence to his lack of body fat. It held a broken straight sword in his long, bony hands. The knight instinctively raised his sword in his hand and unhooked his shield from his back.
The creature seemed to notice that it was no longer in solitude as it turned its head towards the knight, its lack of eyes burning into his soul. It made an inhuman growl as it ran towards the knight. He instinctively raised his shield as the weak creature's broken sword bounced harmlessly off his metal shield. The creature recoiled and let out another growl as his strike was deemed ineffective, the knight took his chance and swung his sword at the creature and caught him in the arm, severing it. The creature seemed unfazed by this as he roared and lunged at the knight, who sidestepped the lunge and plunged the sword into its back, silencing its hate-filled growls.
He walked over to the creature and kicked it. It didn't respond, and he prodded it with his sword for good measure and felt satisfied as he saw something rise from its body. He didn't know what it was, but a feeling told his he should embrace it. The essence flew out of the corpse and into his body. He felt indifferent, and shrugged, wiping his blade clean from the blood on the corpse before him.
Suddenly, a muffled scream echoed throughout the clearing, he stood up and raised his weapon, suspecting an attack. But no attack ever came and he lowered his sword, only to hear the scream again, but louder. It was feminine, but he wasn't sure where it was coming from. The scream was heard from a third time, and it clicked in his head.
A coffin.
The poor soul just 'woke up' like he had, he felt a tiny stab of pity in his heart. A pounding noise followed by a fourth scream came from a solitary coffin half buried in the mud. He shook his head and sheathed his sword and hooked the shield on his back. As he approached the coffin, he noticed the quiet and wondered why she had stopped screaming and banging. Then he heard a soft sobbing coming from the coffin as he was no less than five feet from it. She has given up hope, he somberly thought as he gripped the lid of the coffin. Giving all his might and a loud grunt, he popped the lid off the coffin and threw it to the side. He coughed as dust from the lid fell into his lungs, and peered inside.
And blue eyes wet with tears peered back into his visor.
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She awoke to a soft voice of an old woman, it felt as if the old woman were right next to her, whispering in her ear and she lay on her back.
The Lords go without their thrones and refuse to return. Rise Unkindled, and Link the First Flame.
She opened her eyes to blackness, she could see nothing, not even a tiny sliver of light. She went to mover her hand to her face to wipe away the grogginess she felt, but it hit something cold and hard. She felt in front of her as she realized the material in front of her: Stone. Realization dawned on her again as she noticed she was in a small area with not room to move. She hyperventilated, feeling her stone prison grow smaller around her. She feared the lack of moving room as she squirmed to free herself.
Now knowing that she couldn't move she tried to push the stone in front of her out of the way. Her eyes widened, it was sealed. Someone must've not wanted her to get out.
She pounded on the stone in front of her as she tried to get the attention of the outside world by screaming. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours, after several attempts to free herself and after several screams, it struck her. She was doomed to stay in this small prison for the rest of her life, until she starved or dehydrated to death.
She cried, she knew there was no hope to escape, and she wished she knew where she was and why she was there. When suddenly a grunt was heard as the stone in front of her, and the coffin spill some dust onto her body. Then, the coffin was torn out of its sealed position with a loud snap, and blinding light pierced her dark-accustomed eyes. She shut her eyes as her tears stopped falling, but her vision remained watery.
A cough turned her attention back to the less blinding light of the outside world, as a figure clad in ashy steel peered over her. She closed her eyes and opened them again, expecting it to be an illusion, but the figure was still there. They stared at each other for a few minutes, neither saying anything, when the figure moved his hand towards her.
She shrunk away from the extended hand, and looked fearfully at it. It appeared her savior was trying to help her up, but she didn't trust him so she stared at his hand before looking back at him with wide eyes. The figure grunted in annoyance as he disappeared from sight and she heard the sound of heavy footsteps fade away into silence.
She lay there, confused on to what just happened, she pushed herself up into a sitting posture and noticed something she was buried with. It was a dull green flask with cracks in its side, it was empty of any fluid, but she had a feeling that it was something of utmost importance. She grabbed it at went to place it on her belt, when she realized what she was wearing; she wore a cloak around her body and a hood fell over her head with her mouth and nose covered by a face wrap. Chainmail covered her body and her pants were torn off below the knee. On her thigh, she carried a small lantern, she clipped the dull green flask onto her belt and pushed herself to stand on her feet.
Ash fell off of her as she rose from her grave, and she took in her surroundings. She was in a clearing, and she noticed something lying next to her grave. One was a short sword made of steel was blade down a shallow pool next to a corpse with fresh blood leaking out. She walked over to it and grabbed the hilt and pulled it free, sheathing it in her belt. A bow hung from a nearby tree and arrows from a spilt quiver covered the ground in a heap. Sensing the need for the bow, she jogged up to the tree and jumped for the bow, successfully pulling it down as some twigs fell into her face. She bent down and picked up the quiver and checked each arrow before putting them back in their rightful place before slugging the quiver and bow over her shoulder. She caught a glimpse of her savior walking over a pile of fresh corpses towards what appeared to be a cliff.
She felt confused at her surroundings, a graveyard? she thought with slight panic. Did I die? What happened? If I'm dead how am I still alive? She took a calming breath and walked after her savior, hoping he had answers for her.
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The knight looked before him, a great expanse of mountains greeted him. It concerned him that he was, in fact, in the middle of nowhere.
After helping the woman from the coffin, he hoped she would journey with him. He was confused and hoped for some companionship through this strange place. He shifted his gaze towards the sword plunged into a pile of ash and bone. It hurt to look at but her felt a sense of peace coming from it.
Unsure of what to do, he walked forward and gripped the hilt of the sword. He jumped back when the ash below the sword caught fire, and he looked down in amazement. He felt his strength return to him and he sat down in front of the small flame, hoping to receive some warmth. His hip felt heavier than normal as held up his dull green flask to be amazed once more. The flask was now filled with a yellowish, gold fluid.
He was unsure what it was but it was tantalizing. He lifted his visor and took a small sip and felt a lot better and he took his glove off, feeling a weird sensation on his wrist. The long gash on his wrist he got from one of those crazed robed people healed over and all that was left a faded scar, he marveled at his arm, then turned his gaze back to the flask in his hand. He was curious, he gripped the hilt of the sword in the small bonfire and watched in bewilderment as the cup magically refilled to the top.
He sank back farther onto his rear and put his arm on his knee that was bent upward, he felt better now that he rested and his thoughts became clearer. He was enjoying the quiet of the mountain, occasionally hearing growls and groans farther down the path toward an open courtyard and a temple of some sort.
The sound of footfall behind him snapped him out of his gazing as he flipped his visor down and stood up, sword drawn. He turned around and pointed the sword at the being behind him only for him to stare at the woman he rescued step back on instinct. He stared at the woman in front of him and slowly lowered his sword to its sheath. She stepped forward a tiny bit and look at the bonfire curiously, then look back to him, asking the unspoken question. He followed her gaze and nodded curtly before stepping back from the bonfire towards the cliffs edge, and taking a seat on the edge with his legs dangling off.
The woman gasped in surprise as she felt the effects of the bonfire. He chuckled loudly enough for her to hear it before turning his gaze back to her. She was glaring daggers at him and cleared her throat, also trying to find her voice, but instead of him, she found hers.
"And what is so funny?" She asked in a cold tone.
The knight merely sighed, I guess I can never laugh at a joke again when she's around. He stood and walked over to her and kneeled in front of her, she scooted back a little to try to get some personal space. The knight cleared his throat and tried to form words, but he couldn't, his voice just wouldn't work. The woman narrowed her eyes.
"Well? Are you gonna kneel there all day or are you gonna answer my question?" her voice was of irritation now.
The knight merely sighed again, not but in frustration, but in sadness. He lifted his hand to his throat and held his hand over there, and casted a miracle. His hands glowed a soft yellow and the woman recoiled a little at the sight. He felt the ash in his throat clear and he could finally will his voice into words again. He cleared his throat, but this time he found his voice.
"Be at ease, I have no quarrel with you in this hellish land, your reaction was merely a blessed distraction from the horrible reality." His voice was deep, but it rumbled with a certain happiness that even surprised himself.
She relaxed and the coldness in her eyes evaporated into one of complete confusion.
"Where are we, and why don't I remember anything from before?"
"Well, I know the answer to one of those questions, for you see, we are in a graveyard" He spread out his arms in mock grandeur.
He narrowly avoided a piece of stone and gave a hearted laugh. The woman sighed and stood up to leave. He sobered up immediately and spoke in seriousness.
"I don't know where we are, and I remember nothing. But I do know one thing, as an Unkindled, I'm supposed to Link the Flame no matter what the cost, be it my life or yours, it must be Linked." He spoke his words with such conviction that even he believed it.
The woman turned toward him, her eyes expressing surprise, "Where did you hear that?"
He chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation, "Always with the questions, I… erm… 'awoke' to the sound of someone telling me that. Like it was my ultimate duty. I don't know what it all means, or what the First Flame is, but I feel that is my only duty now."
She looked frightened, and spoke softly, almost to herself. "I heard those words too when I awoke, but I wasn't sure what they mean. It feels as if this task is given to us out of utmost importance."
He nodded, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring pat before standing up and pointed toward the building on the edge of the cliff.
"I have a feeling we have to get to there, so let's follow the path, milady." He gestured to the path leading down to the circular arena- like area.
She let out a small chuckle and walked by him, un-holstering her bow in her left hand and letting it fall to her hip with her hand.
"And they say chivalry doesn't exist." She continued walking with a smile as she heard the laughing behind get closer as he fell in step with her.
"So, what's your name?"
He turned his gaze towards her, her blue eyes twinkled in the daylight. He pondered this question for a few moments, until he felt a frown behind his visor.
"I cannot recall my name." He replied sadly. He focused his attention on her half-hidden face, looking at her eyes as they gave off a sympathetic vibe.
"What is yours, if I may ask?"
She internally chuckled and held back a snorty of amusement at his carefully selected words.
"Please, call me Aedwen of Astora," she told him with a kind smile, though he couldn't see it, he could feel. "But I feel that I simply cannot call you Knight all the time, so a name will have to do."
He paused in their trek to the open courtyard, and she turned around. He could feel the gears turning in his head and he snapped his fingers at his newfound name.
"I have given it some thought, call me Edric, it's the only name that felt that it fits me."
She walked over to him and held out her hand.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Sir Edric."
He made a deep bow in mock royalty and gently grabbed her hand and cupped the other on top of it.
"Likewise, Lady Aedwen."
She couldn't stop the snort that escaped her, and gave him a look, "Lady Aedwen?"
He removed his hands and crossed his arms, "Well what am I supposed to say to Sir Edric?"
She chuckled and he huffed, the pair continued down the path and slain a few Hollows that harassed them with broken swords and the occasional crossbow fire. They stopped in front of gateway that led to a courtyard with what appeared to be a man kneeling and a halberd sticking up right next to him. He was about to make a move through the gateway, until Aedwen reached out and grabbed his shoulder pauldrons to make him stop. He looked at her quizzically beneath his armor-plated visor.
"Yes?"
"Stop looking at me and look over there." She pointed to the left of them and he followed her arm with his gaze until it found its intended target.
No more than 10 feet away, was a white, specter that was very transparent, only the outline of it was visible with white light. The specter was running around, swinging at nothing with his sword, it stopped and turned at them and waved at them, before slowly fading away into nothing. The duo stared, mouths agape at what they saw for a few minutes, until Edric broke the silence.
"What was that?"
"I have no clue, but it waved at us. Waved at us! What the hell was that? Where did it go?"
"Maybe it was a ghost of this horrid place? I have no idea, let's go talk to that kneeling guy and see if we can get some answers."
She nodded at his answer and composed herself, "You're right, let's go have a chat with that big oaf."
The two marched through the gateway and descended the steps. The kneeling giant made no response and the quickly found out why. There was a sword impaled into his stomach, he was obviously dead. An unlit bonfire was behind him and Aedwen went behind the deceased knight and gripped the hilt of the bonfire's sword. But nothing happened.
"Edric, why isn't this working?"
He walked over to her and chuckled, "Because you don't have the magic touch I suppose. Step back and let me do this."
As she stepped back and turned her attention to her surroundings, there was closed gate that blocked the exit to courtyard and she walked over to it. She gave the gate a push, only for it not to budge. She tried to push harder, but was rewarded with the same results. She turned her head when to her companion when she heard him swear loudly.
"Why won't it light!?" He grumbled as she approached him. He turned his gaze towards the kneeling figure, noticing black tendrils wiggling out of the exit wound of the sword. I wonder… He thought as he moved to the front of the knight and gripped the sword handle and gave it a pull.
"Edric? What are you…" she stopped as he pulled the weapon free and immediately, the sword turned to ash in his hands. They shared a quick glance as the knight jerked up with a start and pulled the halberd out of the ground. Edric leaped back, unsheathing his sword and Aedwen getting distance and pulling out her bow and notching an arrow. Edric sighed as the knight slowly rose to his full height, towering over Edric by a good 7 feet.
"You have got to be kidding me." He grumbled as he unhooked his shield from his back into his left hand.
This was going to be a long day.
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"You just had to pull the sword, didn't you?" Aedwen stated with exasperation.
Edric looked up from the pile of ash that lay at his feet, once he landed the killing blow on the monster that emerged from the knight. Upon killing him he felt that he caught on fire, but it didn't burn or anything, he actually felt whole again, and more powerful too.
"Well," he started as his hand moved to the back of his neck, "it let us light the bonfire."
She shook her head as she picked up the remains of her arrows from the pile of ash. She looked at Edric, he seemed to be on fire, but wasn't. He appeared to be covered in embers from a fire whose flame died out long ago.
"You look like you are burning when you move, are you all right?" She asked with a slight touch of concern.
He looked down at his hands, then down to his body. He really was on fire, but there were no flames. A single word echoed in his mind.
Ember
He smiled underneath his visor and looked at her, realizing that she too was Embered.
"You appear to be Embered as well."
She gave him a confused look, "Embered?"
"Yeah, we both are burning without flame, just like from a fire who died out long ago. It feels great, doesn't it."
She had to admit that it did make her feel whole again. She felt something tug at her mind, but she couldn't bring herself to remember a lost memory. Sighing, she walked over to him and pulled him to his feet, grunting at his weight. He nodded in thanks and moved past her toward the closed door.
Once he was in front of it, he gave it a hard push with both hands and the door creaked open a little bit. He pushed again and the door gave way a little bit more, with one final push, the door cracked just enough so that he could pass through. He motioned Aedwen to follow as he forged onward, climbing up the long-forgotten stairs that led up to the building on the top of the hill. After dealing with a couple Hollows, they made it to the top of the hill and stepped into the area. They realized that they were in a throne room, by the look of it.
Five empty thrones, except for one, greeted them as they approached a drop off. To their left and right was a pair of staircases that led them down to the lower level. Edric looked at Aedwen, who merely shrugged and the two descended the staircase to the lower levels. When they reached the bottom, they noticed a depressed looking warrior sitting on the stairs, and Edric approached him while Aedwen hung back, watching the exchange that was going to take place.
"Hello?" Edric approached cautiously, and the man looked at the ground with sadness and pity.
"Ahh, another poor soul, roused from the sleep of death, well you're not alone it seems, you, your friend, and I. We Unkindled are worthless. Can't even die right, gives me Conniptions."
Edric took a step back at the man's depressed nature, Crestfallen is more appropriate for this guy. He glanced at Aedwen who look concerned for the depressed warrior and looked back at Edric, and she shrugged. He sighed and looked at the Crestfallen warrior.
"Why are we here, what's happening?"
The warrior looked up at Edric for the first time, his eyes had the look of a man who had given up everything for nothing.
"What we are doing? Well, they'd have us seek the Lords of Cinder, and return them to their molding thrones." He gestured towards the thrones above him. He shook his head. "But we're talking true legends here, with the mettle to link the Fire. We're not fit to lick their boots. But now the Lords are gone and we are merely the last resort option. Awaken those who failed to link the Fire a time long ago, and slay those who did only to Link it again to keep this bloody cycle going. Ironic is it not?" He let out a sad chuckle
Aedwen entered the conversation now. "Do you really have to be downcast right now. We just got here and you're already telling us it is hopeless."'
The warrior merely grunted, "It's already pointless, thief. Unless you have the stones to take on the Lords themselves, they won't be back here anytime soon."
Edric shrugged his shoulders, "Never know if you don't try. I'm Edric and this is my companion Aedwen of Astora. And who might you be?"
"I am Hawkwood."
Hawkwood signified the end of the conversation by returning his gaze back to his lap, his eyes glossing over as he faded into distant memories. The duo exchanged a weary glance and progressed down the stairs toward the small pit in the middle of the room. Suddenly, a throat cleared and Edric turned quickly to the disturbance, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Aedwen noticed the woman long before Edric did and put a hand on his shoulder to put him at ease. Aedwen released his arm when she was sure he wasn't going to slay the strange woman in front of them, and he stepped toward her. The woman smiled somberly towards the two.
She was wearing a dark colored robe, her eyes were hidden behind a weird looking visor. Her hair was a dirty blonde, pulled back into a thick, long, messy, braid that stopped around her center back. She bowed humbly towards them.
"Welcome to the bonfire Unkindled Ones."
"I see no bonfire around here, who are you?"
The woman's somber smile turned into a genuine smile, but it didn't reach her cheeks.
"I am a Firekeeper, I tend to the Flame, and thus, I tend to thee. The Lords are gone, abandoning the duty of Rekindling the Flame, they must be delivered to them. To this end, I am at thy side."
Edric let out a sigh of relief. "Well, Thank the Sun! Someone who actually wants to help us in this quest, but there is no way to leave this shrine. How do we leave to seek out our 'goals?'"
Aedwen laughed, "Now don't be too eager to leave this safe haven of ours."
Edric glared at her but couldn't stop the chuckle that left his mouth. The Firekeeper seemed amused by the interaction, but kept her face stoic.
"Produce the Coiled Sword into the bonfire pit. The mark of Ash will guide thee to the land of the Lords, to Lothric, where the homes of the Lords converge." She said pointing to the pit in the middle of the room, then stepping over to the stairs away from Hawkwood and sitting down.
Edric stared at Aedwen, confused. "Coiled Sword, we didn't pick one up on the way here, did we?"
Aedwen held in a mocking laugh as she pulled out the Coiled Sword from seemingly nowhere, and she could practically hear the Edric's jaw hit the bottom of his helmet.
"Where did you keep that this whole time? I mean, good job and all, but… how?"
Aedwen now laughed at his confusion, "A woman has her secrets." She said as she walked away from him to the bonfire.
Edric stood still a moment, wondering where she actually kept it until his head hurt. He looked at the Firekeeper who was hiding her laugh with her hand, He looked at her visor and saw no slots for her eyes. She's blind? He shrugged at the thought and moved toward Aedwen as she plunged the Coiled Sword into the bowl of ash in front of her. The fire immediately burst to life as she faded into a goldish fog.
What the Hell?
He turned to the Firekeeper who merely made a grabbing motion with her fingers and he understood the meaning. He walked over to the bonfire and gripped the hilt of the sword and was surrounded by a goldish fog. When he let go the fog dissipated and he was in a new location, one which he didn't recognize. He turned his gaze towards the open doorway with a familiar figure leaning against the side of the doorway.
"What took you so long?" teased Aedwen.
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A/N: Boom! Chapter One complete. So, how is it? Any thoughts or suggestions? Let me know what you think, and I promise to try to keep it going.