In a castle high above the clouds, home of the twin princes who refuse to bow to the will of the gods, a lone knight remained knelt before a statue in a large, circular courtyard. His armour, covered in scratches, still shines against the fires that dot the courtyard. His tattered cape and tabard, once coloured a vibrant red now only a dull crimson. The large sword that he held in front of his bowed head, stained red by the recent slaughter. The knight's visor was raised, revealing a sunken and Hollowed face. This is Loghan, a proud knight of Lothric, reduced to nothing but a lowly defender for his princes.
Loghan wasn't completely Hollow, he still remembered the day he left home, the day he joined the knights of Lothric, the day when he felt the Darksign. His fellow knights hadn't gotten theirs on that day, so they threw him from the bridge linking the archives and the rest of the castle. Loghan knew on that day, they would be the next. He was right, he saw a number of recently branded knights roaming the battlements, their eyes downcast when he walked past.
Him and the Lothric soldiers and knights still followed their princes, even when under the curse of the Darksign. But then the scholars did something, in that archive they call home, causing the platoons of Winged Knights to attack and lash out. They rampaged through the many battlements and slaughtered anyone who stood against them, on that day, a lot of people Hollowed. But not Loghan he remained sane, since then however, his mind has been repeatedly chipped away by countless deaths. Now, the sounds of yet another party of Undead approach, the Lothric Knight stood up and pulled his greatsword from the cobblestone ground and turned to the three arrivals.
"Whoa, check out that sword." The middle one said, his lowly knight armour covered in blood. In his hands he held a longsword and an ordinary shield.
"Aye, I wouldn' mind a sword like that." The leftmost one said, his accent almost as harsh as his spiked armour, his massive spiked mace dripping with dark blood. The last didn't speak, her hooded robes covering her eyes, but not her grin. Loghan heaved his greatsword onto his shoulder and stomped towards the trio of Undead, his dull eyes fulled with rage.
Walter grunted, pulling his body towards the ladder his party descended from. His legs were cut off at the knee, his flask of trusty estus was shattered and he had lost his family sword. He heard heavy footsteps behind him and panicked, he started to scramble across the cobblestone. Suddenly he was dragged back and flipped onto his back, Walter raised a hand to defend himself but the Lothric Knight ignored it and raised his ultra greatsword. Walter let out a yell as the blade slammed down, then fell silent.
Loghan raised his sword again and heaved his greatsword onto his shoulder again, he felt something dripping down his chest and felt for the source. A large dent near his ribs, caused by that spiked mace. Loghan turned his head and glared at the mangled body that was thrown in one of the bonfires nearby, his gaze left the spiked body and landed on the robed one, which sat against the statue he once prayed next to. She was a pain, her sorcery pierced Loghan's armour and left savage burns.
"Hail, Ser Knight!" A voice called out and Loghan turned around, trying to find the madman calling out. "Up here!" The voice called and Loghan looked up at the platform near the large arch leading to the Cathedral of Blue, the man in question wore Lothric Knight armour, he was one of the sane. Loghan raised a hand and waved to the knight who waved back. "I've come down from the wall to report that an Unkindled is in the area, be on the lookout!" The Lothric Knight shouted then disappeared over the edge.
Loghan was sure he knew that man, his voice sounded familiar, but alas his memory was all but gone. He knew that the fabled 'Unkindled Ones' were dangerous, he needed reinforcements. But Loghan sighed, nobody would help him, they were all gone. Then he spotted something, on the body of the lowly knight, a hovering white light. The Lothric Knight walked over and reached into the orb, it disappeared and revealed a clump of ember. Loghan quickly crushed the ember and sighed shakily, he had heard that these embers gave Undead power, he needed it. Suddenly a stinging pain hit him, Loghan raised a hand and saw flaming dancing at his fingertips.
Then the pain grew, the flames started to run up his arm. Loghan stumbled back and into the statue's base, frantically waving his arm to get rid of the fire. The flames covered his body and he tried to scream out, but no sound came. A final thought fluttered into his mind, the thought of regret. Embers could only be harnessed by an Ashen One, but he was just a Hollow, a normal Undead. Loghan slid down the stone base and released his sword from his iron grip, he slowly moved his body into a more comfortable position to rest, before the ember torched his insides and hollowed the armour out. At least he wouldn't have to die anymore, he could be at peace. Unfortunately, Loghan wouldn't be at peace, for the cycle of fire would not cease, for the Unkindled Ash would continue to rise to restart it.
Loghan shot up in his bed, his body covered in sweat. He felt his arms and face, gasping as he tried to recall the nightmare. Loghan frowned as he felt something on his arm, he looked and his eyes widened. The Darksign. Loghan got out of bed and grabbed his armour, which was still shining from the polishing from yesterday. He slipped into it and quickly left the barracks, bumping into another Lothric Knight. The man grunted and glared at him.
"Ser Loghan? What are you doing up so early?" Ser Louis asked with a gruff voice, then he caught the fear in Loghan's eyes. "Dear gods... you... you have the brand!" He declared in fear as he backed away, pulling a sword from his hip. Loghan shook his head and waved his hands, though it was in vain.
"Please, I-I can explain!" Loghan tried to say but Louis didn't acknowledge his words, instead he shouted out.
"We got an Undead!" A number of Lothric Knights suddenly rushed Loghan and roughly pulled him towards the Archive bridge, ignoring his pleas and shouting. They walked past the armour of the legendary dragonslayer and stood at the side of the bridge, lifting Loghan up over their heads.
"Wait! Wait! Please, my sword!" Loghan screamed out and the knights hesitated, then Louis spoke up.
"We'll send it down, after you." With that the knights tossed Loghan over the edge, the screams of the knight echoing in their ears. The Lothric Knights slowly went back to their barracks, except for one. The knight glanced around then unclipped his gauntlet, looking at his own brand that taunted him with the same fate as Loghan, footsteps on his left caused him to quickly pull his gauntlet on. He turned and stared at the other knight, who stared back.
"Something the matter, Ser Warwick?" The knight asked and Warwick shook his head.
"No, no. Just thinking about the future."