Embers


"Unkindled one, you remain among the accursed"

Flames consumed a flower as a large explosion shook the earth of the quiet valley, followed by the sound of metal clashing against metal. The Soul of Cinder stood powerful against its opponent his face obscured by his helm.

But everyone could see his resolve, his purpose

He would defend the flame from everyone, no matter how powerful the foe was.

Adapting a style reminiscent of the first person to rekindle the flame, Lord Gwyn, he attacked his opponent.

With a swing from his flaming sword he sent his opponent flying, blood and flames decorating the landscape.

The opponent took some ragged breaths and looked at his enemy.

"He's nothing" he said to himself as stood up once more, his wound was not that serious it did not require healing.

Well to him it was not serious he could still fight after all.

The Soul of Cinder didn't waste any time and lunged at his opponent once more, but this time the warrior was ready.

He rolled out of the way and stabbed the Soul in the back.

This manifestation of the flame was nothing.

He had defeated Pontiff Sullivan.

Slayed the last of the Demons, their King and Prince.

He had faced Sister Friede and Father Ariandel

Oceiros the consumed king, the Nameless King Son of Lord Gwyn, Darkeater Midir and Gael the Slave Knight.

And most important of all, it had been him that killed the Lords of Cinder.

He now had their power, the Soul was just another bump in the road to complete his goal.

"Fear not the dark my friend and let the feast begin"

But here he was now, at the end of the road.

Doubt filling his mind in the las moments of his quest.

Cursed be the ringed city for all eternity and their inhabitants too.

Worshipers of the dark.

He managed to escape a brutal strike from the soul.

The Souls of Cinder was now far more aggressive in his attacks, all of the aimed to kill.

The warrior stroke at the Soul but hit air.

The soul was quick on his feet it and attacked.

More blood was spilled onto the ground.

What would he do when he defeated the Soul?

Link the fire once more like all his predecessors did?

Let it fade and usher in a new age of darkness?

Did it really matter?

He could always leave the world to its fate and enter the new painting.

A quiet and peaceful world.

"Unkindled one, you remain among the accursed"

The words of the prince where still with him after all this time.

He truly was cursed, with no hope for the future.

He would let it fade.

He had decided.

He just hoped that humanity could live in a world of dark, after the fire keeper had said "In the far distance, I sense the presence of tiny flames. Like precious embers, left to us by past Lords, linkers of the fire. Could this be what draws me to this strangely enticing darkness?"

With a powerful strike from his sword, he hit The Soul once more.

He saw the Soul stagger, their duel coming to an end.

Blows where exchanged, neither warrior willing to let the other win.

But fate had decided.

The unkindled saw the Soul of Cinder let out a final roar as he faded from existence.

Exhausted he fell to his knees, he had done it.

He stumbled towards the flame and kneeled beside it.

It was nostalgic really

How many times had he kneeled next to flames?

It was so familiar to him.

The only thing of normality his life had.

He had always been cursed.

Since the moment of his reawakening.

Nothing but pain and suffering.

He took out his helmet his face bloodied and tired, his dark eyes looking at the flame with sadness.

His dark hair was dirty with dried up blood, fresh blood and dirt.

He left the helmet next to him, a memory from The Abyss Watchers.

His entire outfit was one of the Watchers.

Their loyalty to their cause was something he had admire so greatly that he had downed their clothing.

He smiled to himself.

Memories.

He had so few and most of the where nothing but war.

He truly wished he knew who he was before all of this but it mattered little now.

He heard some steps behind him and saw the fire keeper approach the flame.

His beloved fire keeper.

He could rest now.

She was capable.

How he wished he could hear what she was saying as everything faded to black.

But he knew what she wanted.

He reached with his hand and found hers.

For he was sure that she had been asking if he could still hear her.

With a sigh he closed his eyes.

Not that it mattered anyways.

The dark was consuming everything.

And there was no use of someone like him in this world now.

He felt the fire keeper squeeze his hand.

He was fading of that he was sure.

But he wondered what would happen to her?

No, he didn't have to wonder, her fate was bound to him.

She would die alongside him.

That made his now fading heart ache.

He did not want to drag her alongside him but there was little he could do at this stage.

So with the last bit of his strength he brought her closer to him.

She gasped as he wrapped his arms around her.

He smiled.

He could still surprise her it seemed.

And with that the Unkindled and the Fire Keeper faded from the world.

Their tale forgotten.

But in a cold and quiet world of Ash, their story still lingered on.

But that is not the focus of this tale, for the Unkindled was not done with his duty.

A Watcher always finds the dark, even if he's not searching for it.


Link was dead.

Those three words hurt King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule so deeply every time he thought of them he felt himself fade quicker.

There was no hope.

Zelda would break and Ganon would be released into the world.

And the worst part?

No one knew.

He had only found out after curiosity got the best of him.

He had entered the chamber of resurrection to see how the hero of Hyrule was doing and how much longer it would take for his wounds to heal, after almost a hundred years had passed, so he had assumed that not much longer.

But as he entered he was filled with dread.

The computers where glowing red and to his knowledge that meant bad things.

As he arrived where the hero was, he saw something that made him feel like his entire reality was shattered.

The hero was dead.

He couldn't believe it.

But Zelda and the Sheika…

The Sheika!

He grabbed the Sheika slate and read what had happened.

"Injuries to great, unable to live, termination inevitable"

He choked on his own tears and looked at the hero.

So young, he was so young.

He and Zelda could never reunite, he could never save Hyrule and free his kingdom.

With a heavy heart he lifted the boy.

He looked like he had died only moments ago.

He would bury him.

It was the least the old king could do for the hero.

Days had gone by without him noticing to consumed in his own thoughts

He looked outside of the temple of time.

He only remained in this world because he wanted to see how it all ended.

Be there when the Kingdom fell into darkness.

He looked outside.

Night had arrived.

He had wasted another day.

Again.

The Great Plateau did not have many dangerous creatures but ever since he had died, they were getting bolder.

As if they knew of what had transpired.

He could see them now.

Camping outside the temple.

A lone bonfire lit.

The King frowned.

To think that these beast would come so close to a sacred temple.

These truly where dark times.

Rhoam noticed how flames where growing.

The Bokoblins gathered around in confusion.

So it was not normal then.

The fire raged burning stronger until an explosion happened.

Some Bokoblins ran away covered in fire trying in vain to put out the flames while other grabbed their weapons and circled the bonfire.

A lone figure was kneeling in the middle of the flames, his face downcast.

A brave bokoblin attacked the figure and landed a hit.

Rhoam cringed at the sound of metal against flesh.

But to his surprise the figure stood up and shrugged the wound like it was nothing.

And what happened next was simply put a slaughter.

The lone figure destroyed the bokoblin camp their blood spilling everywhere.

Rhoam was not that impressed honestly.

Bokoblins where not that much of a threat but what did raise his curiosity was when his sword was covered in flames.

A sorcerer?

Rhoam decided this required further investigation.

No one appeared out of thin air holding magic sword.

Could these be the goddesses work?

As Rhoam approached the man he changed forms.

He was now an old man.

He grabbed an apple from a nearby tree and when he was close enough he cleared his throat.

"Greetings stranger, would you like an apple?"