AN: Once again, I do not own the Dark Souls franchise. But, if I did...oh the possibilities.

Guest: You'll just have to wait and see.

UchihaBrotherhood: Can't promise my character won't try to change things. After all, the fate of the undead tends to be tragic if nothing else. Wouldn't you try for a happier ending?


Chapter 2

Firelink Shrine

It's strange, how different the shrine is. Exactly as when I first entered, but missing that feeling that it obtained after I had gathered my allies. As unkindled, we do not need to eat and drink, but I can remember fondly sitting around the bonfire laughing, drinking, and telling stories of our adventures. Patches and Greirat boasting of their most daring thefts. Cornyx and Orbeck loudly debating the superiority between pyromancy and sorcery. Andre showing off his0 newest work like a proud parent and Irina gently recounting of miracles almost forgotten. 'Such a merry band weren't we?' I thought.

I look down from the entrance feeling a gaze upon me. There, where she always was, was the firekeeper. I walk down the stairs and approach, but as I neared I noticed she became off. She fidgeted with her hands, her head no longer looking directly at me. "Greetings," I said. She flinched before kneeling before me. 'What?' And then she said words I have never heard to me.

"Welcome, my lord," she uttered, almost meekly. I was in shock. 'My lord? I don't understand! Why would she-wait. I linked the fire. But if things are repeating, that should mean that I never did. And yet, all the strength and abilities I acquired are still with me. Just what is happening?!'

"Please my dear, you need not bow to me." I knew my tone was begging and I did not care. Ever faithfully she had been by my side. And to see her now, almost groveling, it hurt. "Rise, and look at me." She followed my command-I should not have to command her!-but kept her head bowed respectfully. I don't know what to do! She is and yet isn't the firekeeper I know. "Why do you call me lord?"

"I am the keeper of the first flame," she responded carefully. "Long have I stood watch over it. I know its feel, the power that it holds. When past Lords of Cinder were reawoken, each one contained a shard of that power. The same power I sense in you. Only someone who has linked the flame are granted the title Lord of Cinder and the power with it." I clench my hand. I certainly don't feel different.

She seemed to be waiting another query. Certainly, I should have many questions to ask, but I've already gone through it! Must I do it again? "The thrones are for other Lords." It was not a question and she could tell, yet she treated it as such.

"Indeed. With each successful linking of the fire, the toll for it has become all the greater. Finally, five Lords were roused from their slumber once more, but all but one have abandoned their duty. An unkindled, the Chosen Ash, is needed to seek out the wayward Lords and return them to their thrones."

"But apparently, I'm a Lord, not an unkindled. Where does that leave me?" My question threw her off. She didn't know how to respond without trying to insult me and I could understand why. The Abyss Watchers and their self-slaughter. Aldrich and his insatiable hunger. Yhorm and his imbittered mindset to humans. And the twin princes, born to royalty and descended from the gods themselves. With them and Ludleth and his knowledge of harnessing souls can I see why she would fear those that bear the title of Lord. As Hawkwood once said, "They were not titled Lord for kindness, but power." I've been quiet too long as her fidgeting shows. "Do not worry, I will seek out my fellow Lords." By the gods, does that sentence just feel weird to say.

She relaxes a bit. "When the coiled sword is placed in the bonfire, will it allow you to travel to Lothric, where their homes converge." I pull the sword from my inventory and stab it into the center. Flames burst forth and start dancing in the pit. I should be on my way, the sooner I start, the sooner I will get to see my old companions again. But first, there's something I need to confirm. I turn and walk down the hall behind me, passing the crotchety old shrew in her alcove. I'll talk to her…eventually.

There at the back, with the constant ringing of steel on steel, was the smith Andre. His great muscles worked as he tirelessly swung his hammer. His burnt beard glittered with fading embers. And even at his approach he did not dally in his work. "Andre, old friend!" I call, unable to help myself.

He stopped and looked at me puzzled. "Sorry, but can't says I recognize y'." Again, I hurt, but I push it aside. Something tells me that will be a common feeling with every companion.

"I figured," I replied, "but I remember you."

"Oh? And jus' where have we met?"

"Would you believe me if I said in this very spot?"

He chuckled, as if I told a joke. "I'm old, but I'd think I'd remember meetin a Lord such as you here."

"You could tell?" I asked. The firekeeper's explanation had merit as she tended the flame. But Andre was a smith. How could he tell, and should I worry the others will as well.

"I's not somethin' most would be able t'. But, I have met enough Lords to recognize one. Can't really describe it, other than a feelin'. That and your response helped confirm it." Cheeky bastard. While a simple smith, this man has been around since the first time someone linked the fire. At least according to him. And even if he were exaggerating a great deal, he has been around for so long that he's long since figured out ways to extract information from someone without them knowing. He used it to his advantage when Greirat first introduced gambling. Fun tip: If Andre bets his hammer, fold!

"Aye, apparently I am one. But before that, I need to check something with you." He raised his eyebrow. "Like I said, I do know you. And one thing you told me was that every smith worth their forge remembers every weapon they've ever crafted." He nods to let me know that he agreed. Reaching into my inventory, I pull out my Wolf Knights Greatsword and presented it to him. He grabbed it and inspected it. His keen eye ran up and down the blade, his fingers running over every groove within the metal. And as he inspected it, I could see him become more confused. Finally, he places it down, not yet handing it back.

"This is a transposed weapon," he started. "Not many smiths nowadays can make 'em. But, this blade, it's my own work. How?" He strokes his beard and looks at me contemplatively. "Y' claim y' know me. Y' bring me a sword I have not made, and yet I have. Just who are y'?"

I sigh and decide to lean against the side of the entrance to his workshop. Taking off my helmet, I run my hand through my hair as I mull over what to tell him. I could not lie to him. If I was to have real help in figuring this out, I'll need to be completely upfront with him. So, I began my tale, leaving little out, though I made sure to keep my voice low enough not to let it echo down the hall to where the others would hear. Sound travels surprisingly well in here.

"Hrm," he rumbled. "If I was anyone else, I'd say y' already hollowed an' tryin' to pull the wool over my eyes. Lucky for y', I am me and I do believe y'." I let out a shaky breath at this. "First, is this beauty right here," he said, lifting up the Greatsword. "Y're right that every good smith remembers his own work. Not to mention, you said you used the soul of the Abyss Watchers. Power flows through it, the same power that flows in y'. Next, is yer familiarity. Y' said things about me most don't know. And finally, I've lived through this wonky time shift nonsense more times than I care to remember. If time has shifted, it'd explain why you still remember things, but I don't."

"But what about my power, knowledge, and items I've gained? Not to mention new and different items where there weren't to begin with?" Argh! This is all confusing!

He shrugged as if that answered everything. "Can't help y' there. All I know is that the closer the first flame gets to fading, the less that the time flow makes sense."

"Are…are you saying…I should have let the flame fade?"

He leans back and stares at me with those ancient eyes of his. Eyes that have seen the rise and fall of heroes, births of Lords, and deaths of gods. "Mayhaps," he said at last. "Now, I'm no historian or storyteller, only a humble smith, but I can tell you this. When the flame first began to fade, the gods panicked. The flame is the source of their power, where they draw strength from. If it fades, so too will they. But, all things must come to an end. Nothin' lasts forever. Now look," he waved his hand around, "I remember a time when these halls were freshly carved. The stone with pictures and tales of legends etched on them reflected the light to shine the past upon all who entered. Now, the walls have faded, the tales lost, and rubble gathers in every corner. Same as out there. Time moves on, the fire continues to fade, and events now repeat themselves. I can't tell y' what to do, I'm only a smith, but you are the one that's been chosen. No longer an unkindled, but a Lord! Mayhaps, that's what's needed. A Lord to lead."

I stare at him. I want to reject what he said. Everything about it goes against the quest to relink the fire, and yet, it makes sense. All things must come to an end, even an age. Have we been gripping onto the flame like a child to old for his mothers bosom, but too stubborn to admit it? "You've given me much to think about," I mutter.

"Now, don't fret. Y' asked me a question and I gave y' my honest observations."

"I noticed you didn't say opinion," I smiled at him.

He smiled back. "It's not my choice to make. Look and listen as y' journey and when it comes time, make yer own decision." I chuckle lowly as I get up, grabbing my sword. Crafty old bastard. That man will never give a clear answer, unless it's forging. Always wanting us to make our own paths in life, he'd say. "Oh, before y' leave," he spoke up. I turn to him, helmet in hand. "Y' never gave yer name."

I laugh as I realize during my long explanation that not once did I utter my name. "Bradach. My name is Bradach."

"Well, Bradach, I guess I'll be seein' y' around." He extended his hand which I gripped firmly, giving one good shake before turning and walking away. I grinned as I walked past the handmaid. She didn't pipe up and I didn't bother her. Though I should talk to her. No doubt she has some of my missing items. Hmmm, eventually.

Next up was Hawkwood. I'll admit, I'm not sure how to feel about him. On one hand his disparaging comments, while truthful, were entirely unneeded. On the other, he was a man who had aspired for something great and in the end was crushed by it. It also didn't help that after he helped me at Archdragon Peak, forsook the last of his own belongings to Andre, then challenged for the twinkling dragon torso when I was passing through the Abyss Watchers area. If he wanted the blasted thing so much, he could have it. All he needed was to ask. It's not even that useful! At least, to me.

"Ah, another one, roused from the sleep of death? Well, you're not alone. We unkindled are worthless. Can't even die right. Gives me conniptions." Still as disparaging as ever. Sometimes I wonder what he'd answer with if I remarked on what a lovely day it is. "And they'd have us seek the Lords of Cinder and return them to their molding thrones. But we're talking true legends with the mettle to link the fire. We're not fit to lick their boots. Don't you think?" He ended with his chuckle.

"I don't know about you, but I'd never put my tongue anywhere near Aldrich."

He laughed a bit before looking at me, fully this time. "You're different from the others." Can he tell I'm a Lord as well? "Not as…meek."

"Fine sir, you have a way with words. Truly you do."

He smirked. "At least your humor is still intact. Most don't have that anymore." He extended his hand which surprised me. Last time, he didn't talk so much until I neared the Abyss Watchers. Then repeated himself on how to join the legion. Honestly, I thought he was hollowing. "Hawkwood."

I clasped his hand. "Bradach." That seemed to enough for him as he turned and went back to doing whatever he actually does. I pass the thrones as I head to the last person of note currently here. Yhorm, the Abyss Watchers, Lothric, and finally Ludleth. I step onto his pedestal to greet him. "Oh, what's this?" he asked in his frail voice. "My, another Lord has risen. How marvelous."

"I shouldn't be surprised at this point. The firekeeper and Andre recognized me, but not the others." I trailed off on purpose. Ludleth was many things. Greedy, ambitious, coward, and very intelligent. He has a love of answering others' questions. Guess it makes him feel more important.

"I'm not surprised. The flame has faded into a shadow of its former majesty. Those not attuned to the feel of its shadow will not be able to recognize what it is that lies within you. They'll know something is different. After all, all unkindled forever seek the fire. Ah, where are my manners? I am Ludleth of Courland. I know I don't look much, but in ages past I too linked the fire, becoming a Lord of Cinder. Tell me, if I may be so bold, why are you here?"

During his explanation, I did indeed feel something. I'm not sure how to accurately describe it other than a phantom warmth emanating from him. I cannot help but wonder what this could mean for me. "In truth, I am not sure. I had believed my duty fulfilled when I linked the flame, only to wake in a graveyard over yonder."

"Were it to be so," he whispered. "Usually only one Lord is required. In this instance, someone who has proven themselves worthy of entering into legend, whether their deeds be benevolent or not, but in the absence of one the Lords of Cinder are awakened in their stead. Now, five Lords have been resurrected in a bid to provide the necessary kindling. However, unlike I, my fellow monarchs have abandoned their duty and resigned this world to fade. That is why the unkindled have been roused from their slumber to seek out the wayward lords and bring them onto their thrones." Nothing I haven't heard before, just put more poetically.

"And it is my duty to bring them here, correct?"

He hesitates for a moment. "Perhaps. As it is, no more Lords were to be roused from their slumber. It could be you are meant to do as you say, or it could be that you are to replace one of our fellow Lords."

"Perhaps that is for me to decide." He bows his head in acknowledgment. "Never mind, I just wanted to greet everyone before I began."

"Then you should seek out the shrines handmaid. She can help you where others can't. That is, if you have enough souls for her services." I nod and hop off the platform. I was not going to enjoy this. I pass the firekeeper, who bowed at my passage, and approach the old, crippled woman.

"A pleasure to make thine acquittance Ashen One. I am but a humble handmaid of the shrine." Humble my charred ass. "Weapons. Armor, trinkets, and spells. I've lots of things to ease the burden of a weary traveler." No you do not. Not until I bring you lots of umbral ash. My journey would have been so much easier if I had access to all that at the beginning. "And yes, I'm undead to. But, not so charitable to give my goods away." Of course you are. "Ashen One, fetch souls and bring them to me." Ah, there's that greed. "As is thy want, no?" If I could avoid the need for the items you will possess, I would. I could spend those souls on something more helpful, like myself. But the ability to buy an endless amount of twinkling titanite, scales, and chunks is just to tempting. Much easier than repeatedly killing enemies in the hope they would drop it.

"Good day. If you don't mind, I'd like to browse your wares."

"Of course." She tried for a gentle smile, but her greed shone through. After browsing through I buy the embers, going to need those, a few homeward bones, just in case, and finally the tower key. I don't plan to go all the way up, just collect the items in the rafters. "Ashen One, be sure to bring more souls."

I climbed the stairs and pass the tree that looms near the exit. Even though the seeds it occasionally drops are helpful with dark spirits, the thing is still strange to look at. Turn the lock, up the spiral staircase, and out onto the bridge. I was about to hop off when I remembered I had a ring for this. I look at my hands to see which rings I could get away with removing. In the end, I swap out the Flame Stoneplate Ring for the Silvercat Ring. A simple hop and I'm good. It's almost relaxing with no enemies around trying to kill me. Homeward bones, forgot those were here, and then underneath Pickle-Pee's nest. I see the glow of the item as I steadily make my way to it. To my delight, it is another estus shard. I could take 15 gulps from the one I have now, but to go further…

I run through the nest, ignoring Pickle-Pee, and slice the illusion. Across the rafters, a jump down, and I open the chest. Another Covetous Silver Serpent Ring. Excited, I replace the Silvercat ring with the one I just found, and tried to swap my Ring of Favor for the one in my inventory. Key word, try. As I attempted to slip the ring onto my finger, I was brought up short, as if an invisible hand was holding me in place. Curious, I summoned all my strength to force the ring onto my finger, but no matter how I struggled, it would not move. That is when I noticed the ruby eyes of the ring were glowing. I look at its twin on my other hand and sure enough, it too was glowing. Now this is strange. Why can I not wear two of the same ring? What magic was at work here? Does the same thing happen with every ring or just the serpent ones? So many questions. With a frustrated snarl, I stuff both of them into my inventory and withdrew their golden cousin.

A quick hop, down the steps, and once more towards Andre. At least one good thing came from this. "Hail!" I hollered to him.

He stops and smiles. "Back so soon? Don't tell me y've already broken that sword of yours."

I laugh at his quip. Not once have I ever had the need for any piece of equipment to be repaired. "No. I just Stumbled upon some good fortune."

"Good fortune or good memory?"

I shrug. "Both?" Which is true in the sense that I had no idea that the shard would still be there. I hand over both the shard and flask so that he could upgrade it. He took them, but frowned. He examined the flask more closely before setting them down.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot upgrade you flask any further."

My gut sank. "Why?"

"The knowledge to make flasks have been lost long ago. With no more flasks, everyone's been fightin' for those that remain. All that caused the things to break. Every shard y' find is a remnant of a lost flask. Also, any flask that remains has been so damaged that it can no longer hold what it should. That's why we take the shards and fuse it to the flask. Plugs up the cracks. But yers…it's whole. I cannot fix that which isn't broken."

"Well, damn."

"Don't fret just yet. If y' happen upon another flask I'd be able to upgrade that for y'." Now that is a thought. Through my journey I had faced several different people who had their own flasks. I can even think a few off the top of my head. On the other hand…hmm. I better give this some thought.

"Well, thanks anyway." I turn around and finally approach the bonfire. I placed my hand near it and felt the familiar sensation of weightlessness and pulling signaling travel.


AN: Not what you were hoping for eh? Sorry, but next chapter will have the action native to Dark Souls. Anyway, how did you think I did on the characters so far? Did I go off script? Or do you think I got, even just a bit, of their likeness? Comment and don't be afraid to ask questions. At least, ones I can more freely answer.