Chapter Two: Returns
The Unkindled had not been the sole riser. Even before his slumber had ended, others had seen the sky again as well. If someone had been at the right grave as the Bells rang throughout the air, they would have seen what most people would think to be a mass of semi-hardened dark sludge emerge from a massive sarcophagus. The heap, which was as thick as a truck and had to be at least thirty feet long, writhed and slithered onto the ground, keeping itself together in the shape of what could loosely be described as snake-like. Bones protruded out of it at various spots and it left pieces of itself as it moved itself, getting a feel for itself; being deceased for so long made a body, no matter how grotesque, stiff.
This horrid amalgam was Aldrich. Saint of the Deep, infamous cannibal, and Lord of Cinder. As he crawled, thoughts wandered into his unhinged mind. How long had he been away? What had become of Sulyvahn and the Deacons? And how soon could he be rid of the hunger within his bloated form?
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Somewhere in another time-worn area of the land, a massive plot of land was infested with people awakening from the deepest of slumbers. Each donned armor that had seen countless battles, curved daggers, and greatswords that reeked of blood. Their garb and posture were so akin to each other's that the lot of them were practically indiscernible from one another. None of them were sure just what as happening, but each and every one kept a vice grip on his own blades.
The light. It stung all of their eyes. Being in complete darkness for so long...
Darkness. Black. The Abyss...
With the same thought going through every last conscious mind, each of them shouldered their swords and made off in a blind search.
The Abyss Watchers had returned, and their duty remained.
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Rising out of a coffin the size of a house came a giant, fully armored and wielding a machete the length of a bus. He did not stand up, just sat, using his weapon for balance. Yhorm, ruler of the Profaned Capital looked around as dread filled him. If he was back, then he was undead. And if he was undead, he would go Hollow, which meant he was doomed to lose his mind. And even if he didn't, Lordseekers would come for him, force him on his throne and burn to Link the Flame.
A sliver of his horror went away when, even as the last of his memories faded, one remained. An old friend, who promised to end his misery should he ever return. But even that wasn't solace enough to stop him from letting out a thunderous cry of terror and rage.
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"Ahhhh... ha ha!" The Unkindled knight, winded and sore, held on to his icy sword and collapsed, covered in... whatever that snake had been made of as it retreated back into Gundyr's body, which then collapsed. Mustering what strength he had left, the undead pushed himself onto his back and stared at the sky. Every single one of his muscles felt like they were on fire. A strangely familiar sensation, he had to admit.
He started making a noise that was either laughing or sobbing; it was impossible to tell which. He was alive again, but everything around him apparently found that to be a mistake. As he continued emitting his obscene cacophony, a strange warmth coated him. He slowly silenced himself and began to evenly breath as he realized something. His body felt... amazing. All the pain, the fatigue... it was gone. Bringing up his arm into his line of sight, his eyes widened when they beheld his hand. A thick line of glowing orange was on his armor. Rolling over onto his stomach, he pushed himself back up to his feet, he looked at it again. Still there, glowing like an ember on a flame that refused to die out. He pulled off the gauntlet, revealing his white-as-fresh-snow flesh, it had the same patch as his armor did. He slipped the piece back on and looked down at himself. Various streaks and blotches of the glow was all over him, front and back. That warm feeling was still there, but the orange spots gave off more heat. He didn't know what this meant, or why it had only now happened to him.
"This would have come in handy before I won," he mused to himself. But good fortune wasn't to be spat on, so he gathered himself and prodded Gundyr with his boot, making sure he was actually dead. Satisfied with the lack of response from the body, the Unkindled once again made his way. He didn't know the reason why he kept going or why he was doing it. It was as if that whisper from earlier was silent, but its affect was still within him. Pushing the massive doors open and stepping through the stone archway, he saw a massive building not too far off. And seeing what was between him and it made him smile. Hollows. Compared to Gundyr, this would be an enjoyable cakewalk. Letting off steam sounded most fun for him at the moment. He pulled his sword from his scabbard and dashed forward towards the nearest mindless one. Before it could even notice him, it had frosty Titanite in its back. With the blade going in all the to the hilt, the Unkindled One planted his boot into the Hollow's lower back and forced his limb forward, shoving away the staring zombie and freeing his weapon. The Hollow moved no more. With a wicked grin, the knight made for another victim, slashing across its torso.
"If I didn't like killing in my first life, I certainly do now!"
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"I've weighted our possible courses of action," Ornstein said, pacing in front of a mirror that showed not his reflection, but Lord Death. "And the best place to start is Lothric Castle. We don't know where the Lords will retreat to, but that's where they converged and were buried."
"I agree," Lord Death nodded. "But I hope you don't intend on going alone."
"Artorias is lost. Gwyn's children have their own concerns. Vendrick is, well, he's best left alone. The Death Scythes are keeping a panic from spreading. My old teacher will most likely not involve himself with this. And Smough isn't answering any of my calls or letters."
"All excellent points, but I think I know somebody who can still help. He was supposed to start at the Academy tomorrow, but I believe he'll be willing to postpone another day for something this dire."
The Dragon Slayer jumped to a conclusion. "I am having a bit of an ethical dilemma with bringing a youngling with me to an overrun castle."
"Oh but I'm talking about an ordinary child. You've been gone for such a long time time, I don't think you know I have a son now."
That statement made Ornstein stop dead in his tracks and look over his shoulder with an impressed look behind his helm. "So the Gravelord line continues. Congratulations."
"Thank you. If you'll excuse me, I'll talk with him and get back to you in just a minute."
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With no Hollows left, the Unkindled made his way to the opening of the building. Within the first steps past it, he could tell this was a Shrine, and one of massive importance. Five huge thrones were on the opposite end of the chamber, all of them empty. Down the stone steps he went, toward the center. Next to a pile of kindling was a woman, dressed in black with pale blonde hair. Male instinct kicked in and he removed his helmet and attempted to make himself more presentable, not that there was much he could do with the time he had before they officially met.
"Welcome to the bonfire, Unkindled One." She didn't even turn around to face him until he had closed the gap between them. And when she did, he was surprised by her facial jewelry. It looked like a tiara, but rather than her forehead, it rested across her eyes, making him assume she was blind. "I am a Fire Keeper."
"Uh... pleased to meet you." He was uncertain how to respond to that. He had never heard of Fire Keepers... at least he thought he didn't. The past was such a fog to him still.
"I tend to the flame, and tend to you." Her tone was a strange, almost paradoxical mix of casual and professional. "The Lords have left their thrones, and must be delivered to them."
He wasn't sure why she was telling him that information. "Is that what's going on?" He didn't ask her so much as he did himself.
"To this end, I am at your side."
"This end?" He repeated, lost. Was that the reason he had come back? To find these Lords and force them back here?
The Fire Keeper, obviously not seeing the confused look on his face, gestured to the ringed kindling.
"Produce the Coiled Sword at the bonfire. The mark of Ash will guide you to the land of the Lords."
She would have continued on but he cut her off. "Wait, produce the what?"
"The Coiled Sword." She tilted her head in confusion. "Surely when you defeated Iudex Gundyr, you came into possession of it."
His pupils constricted as he realized what he had left in his foe's intestine, and he slapped his hand to his forehead. "Gwyn damn it! I'll be right back."
As he ran up the stairs and out the entrance, he failed to notice that his initial visual intake of the thrones was inaccurate. A small, apparently legless Lord of Cinder silently observed the newly revived Unkindled man sprint off.
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Ornstein waited outside the designated area Lord Death had instructed him to. Gallows Mansion was pleasing to the eye. Pristine almost to a fault. He looked at the upper half, wondering just how the architecture worked. He thought back to the old days of dwellings and towers going straight up and out. Well, mostly. The Cathedral was a sight to behold. And all those statues. And wherever the gods visited.
"That has to be him."
He was absorbed in memories that he hadn't heard the door to the Manor open nor the trio approaching him. Two young women in red shirts and a teenage boy on the short end between them, who smiled as they got closer to him.
"Your armor is magnificent!" He proclaimed. "Every protruding spike, every overlapping scale, is perfectly symmetrical on both sides!"
"He looks like a lion!" The shorter of the two girls happily shouted, pointing at his helmet. "Do you roar a lot?"
"No, not really," he answered flatly before returning his attention to the male. "I surmise you are Death the Kid?"
"Indeed I am, Dragon Slayer Ornstein. These are my Death Weapons, Liz and Patty."
"Pleasure to meet all of you." He gave a bow to them. Chivalry was part of being a knight, no matter what. "I must admit, I was slightly shocked when your father told me you said yes to this task."
"It'll be a step up from our last mission," Liz replied. "I'll take a castle over a tomb any day."
"I wonder if we'll destroy the castle too," Patty added.
"Don't remind me!" Lord Death's child whimpered as he stared crestfallen at the ground. "Such a perfect example of architecture, decimated!"
He began sobbing, and Liz began trying to comfort him. Patty, however, still had a great interest in the old knight. She stood right in front of him, standing as tall as she could (barely getting above his waist) and gazing at him. "How do you see out of that?"
"Through here," he answered, tapping the mouth of his helmet. "Peripheral vision is moot, but disciplined senses make up for it." He looked over to the youngest member of Nito's line, and was relieved to see he had regained his bearing. He turned around and began walking. "The sooner we reach Lothric, the less chances our enemy has of getting an advantage. Are you familar with Hollows?"
The silence was answer enough.
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"Okay! Here we go!" The Unkindled panted as he dragged the Coiled Sword down the steps of the Shrine. It made a loud clang with every impact with the stones. The glowing on him evidently helped with energy and durability, but did not add to his strength. Reaching the center once more, he plunged the sword into the circle. Instantly, it and the pile it now rested in burst into flames. Some instinct within him made him reach toward it. He got on his knees and nearly touched the hilt.
Just before he made contact with it, an orange and gold fog burst forth from the fire. He couldn't see the Shrine anymore, but images of places he had both visited and never set foot in raced around in front of him. The area where he'd fought Gundyr, the grave he had crawled out of, and a castle wall he was unfamiliar with. An impulse made him think the wall was where he was supposed to go. A darkness surrounded his vision, leaving him blind. He felt as if he was free falling for a second, before it all stopped and light returned it him. The Shrine was gone. He was in a small room, sunlight bleeding in through the windows. A door was the first thing he focused on. Making sure his sword was still on him, he pushed it open, and gaped by what was on the other side. It was just like the vision in the fog. He was on a castle wall, able to see for miles in either direction. But what was the walkways really caught his attention. More mindless Hollows. How far was this plague's reach? He shrugged it off. After all, he had a newfound duty to fulfill. Fighting with both determination and glee, he was unaware that other lucid beings weren't far behind him.
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Closing Notes: There we go. Another chapter complete. Had some fun with this one, trying to add in humor here and there. I'm aiming to give the Unkindled One a personality that's a little different and has less than desirable traits in it. Not sure if the chapters have given this signal, but I don't intend for this tale to be centered around him, but to have many plots about several characters from both halves of the source material.
