Chapter 2
When Ricard emerged from the room with the Fire Keeper, most of the people he previously saw had moved on and were busy with different conversations or tasks. Of note was a tall, well-built man with dark, short hair and a large scar on his face in the shape of an X. He was practicing sword swings off to the side with an incredibly large and heavy sword.
A zweihander, remembered Ricard. The two-handed sword was famous in his time for its destructive capabilities and intimidating appearance, which seemed to mirror the man swinging the weapon with discipline.
"Follow me, Ricard. I will show you where, and with whom, you are to go," said the Fire Keeper as they descended the stairs to the bottom level of the chamber. As they passed, several of the inhabitants of Firelink waved and welcomed Ricard, although Ricard got the feeling many of the salutations lacked sincerity. Despite the various dialogues, was a certain somber aura about the room, as if most of the people there were refusing to talk about the giant elephant that was staring each of them in the face.
Among those that welcomed him, Ricard noticed a young, blond haired woman wearing the light armor of the Way of White, a religious order dedicated to the service of the gods of Anor Londo. Her greeting was one of the only that felt genuine.
Wait a minute… I remembered that, Ricard thought excitedly. Even when his memories returned, he had trouble remembering what things were called. He recalled clearly the feelings associated with moments and events, but it was hard to pin down certain details. To be honest, even the names of his brotherhood of knights and his home country evaded him. Nonetheless, the Way of White sprang to his mind almost immediately.
The Fire Keeper led Ricard through a tunnel leading to the south end of the shrine, opposite the Five Thrones. As he walked through the torch-lit passage, a faint, steady sound grew louder. Metal clanging against metal, a sound Ricard was most familiar with. Before reaching the end, Ricard saw a giant of man pounding on an anvil, shirtless, and surrounded by weapons. He was absurdly muscular and sported an impressive white beard that extended to his pectorals.
When the man saw Ricard and the Fire Keeper, he stopped hammering and stood up to greet them. He was well over a head taller than Ricard. "Well what's this, then? A newcomer, I see. 'Tis a pleasure to make y'r acquaintance." His gritty voice belied a kind tone. Up close, Ricard noticed the man was covered in burn marks.
"The name's Andre, and I serve this here shrine as a humble smith. As such, I'll be helping y' with y'r arms and armor." He sized Ricard up. "Not bad quality y' got on right now, but y'll be needing a shield. Hold on." Andre went back to his alcove, amidst a large mile of metal breastplates and helms, and picked up a steel kite shield emblazoned with some sort of crest on it. "Y' look like you can handle this," he noted as he handed it to Ricard.
Ricard grasped the shield's grip and lifted it repeatedly. "Nice weight," he said, impressed. "And it looks like it can take a blow straight on."
"Course it can, I reinforced it," replied Andre with a smile. "Y'll find no better smith in these parts. Or where y'r going, I'd wager."
"Thank you. Speaking of which," Ricard turned to the Fire Keeper, "where exactly are you sending me?"
The Fire Keeper nodded. "That is our next stop. For now, make sure you have all you need from Andre before we continue. You may not see him again for some time."
Ricard nodded. After discussing the matter with Andre, and testing out several weapons, Ricard decided upon an auxiliary weapon that might help him with sturdier foes: a two-handed bastard sword. While not nearly as large as the zweihander he witnessed earlier, the bastard sword would give him a longer swing arc than his long sword, its weight providing a heavier blow.
"Let me show y' a trick before y' think about strapping too much gear on," said Andre as he picked up an estoc from a pile of swords near the anvil. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and the sword started to crumble to ash from the tip down. Instead of falling to the ground, the dust floated to Andre and seemed to meld into his arm.
Ricard looked on in amazement. "Wh… how did you do that?"
"Being Unkindled has certain advantages, lad. Y' can do this to save some space on y'r journey; might make life a bit more comfortable. Y' can't do it with everything y' see, though. Y've got to have a connection with the item, and it takes a bit of time to materialize," Andre noted as the estoc slowly reformed in his hand, reversing the process and turning it from ash to iron. "Precious few seconds y' don't want to be wasting in the heat of battle. I'd prepare beforehand y'r weapons if I were y'."
Incredible. I wonder what else I can do, contemplated Ricard. Suddenly, he felt sorely cold, like when he walked away from the bonfire.
The Fire Keeper asked Ricard if he was ready to continue, and he nodded affirmatively. As he slung the shield and greatsword across his back, Andre took a seat at the anvil and picked up his hammer. Before continuing, he looked at Ricard.
"One more question before y' leave, if y' don't mind m' asking." He motioned with a nod, "That feather y' got on y'r shoulder… where'd y' get it?"
The young knight pondered briefly. As he was searching his head, he remembered the old knight. It was hard to visualize his face, but Ricard remembered his bushy mustache and wide smile. He remembered being gifted something precious, something entrusted to him to help on his journey. Then, like an elevator switch, it clicked.
Ricard reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a piece of cloth, tied into a small, easy to grip ball on the end. He untied the band and unfolded the fabric, revealing the image of the Sun he had seen so often.
He smiled brightly and looked up at Andre. "It was given to me by a good friend, as a complement to this emblem. Symbols of what we stand for, as Warriors of Sunlight. Willing to soar and shine for those who are in need of a brighter day."
Andre chuckled. "I thought it 'twas something like that, lad. I hope y' make y'r good friend proud. Go on, then. We've both got work to do."
As the pair went down the left hallway, Ricard felt a bit less cold.
Not long after, they reached a room filled wall to wall with shelves full of scrolls and parchments. They passed most of them and stopped at a large stone at the end of the room. There were few words and no sentences, there were only four columns of names. At the top of each column of words was a much larger name than the ones below. From left to right, it read:
Yhorm
Ricard
Clive
Kaine
Ester
Tarán
The Legion
Grit
Parnell
Adaliz
Leon
Mortimer
Aldrich
Giselle
Lambert
Sahmir
Khellius
Eva
Lothric
Royce
Grimbald
Jacob
Edmund
Cyrian
The names were etched deep into the stone. Aside from the large names at the top and one small name, Eva, each of the names was glowing faintly like an ember.
Ricard ran his fingers across his name. It was warm to the touch. He was reminded of the cold inside him. He turned to the Fire Keeper, asking, "These are the four groups you were talking about earlier, right?"
She nodded. "And these are the four Lords whom we are to find. As you can see, you are to locate Yhorm and return him."
"What do you know of him?" asked Ricard, staring at the name.
"I know he was called Yhorm the giant. He was supposed to be a great warrior of old, though he, too, was no stranger to loss. He was thought to be both brave and benevolent, fighting to save his kingdom from the fate of darkness that would befall the world should the First Flame fade."
"And do you know where he is?"
"He would have gone back to his home, though I know not why. From what I understand, there is not much of anything remaining there. He would have known this."
"How? My memories were all muddled up when I woke up; isn't it possible his were too? Maybe he still thought there was something waiting for him."
"Were that the case," mused the Fire Keeper. "The Lords of Cinder did not have the same… setbacks that you experienced. The Flame ensured that they would be of sound mind when they awoke so that they might fulfill their duty without delay."
"How convenient." Ricard looked back at the names. "Why aren't the names lit?"
"They are not here," replied the Keeper plainly.
"Is that why this 'Eva' remains dark, as well?"
"Yes. She is that last to show. After she arrives, there will be no more reason to stay. Once-"
Before continuing, the Fire Keeper turned her head sharply toward the exit.
"I am sorry, but I must take my leave. You are to meet with the rest of your party and depart as soon as possible." Leaving Ricard with words in his mouth, she exited the room without another word. Ricard quickly followed, but once out the door there was no trace of the Keeper.
Ricard proceeded back to the main chamber, still a bit taken aback. Before he left, he made sure to memorize the names of his soon-to-be companions, wondering if any were ones that he had seen earlier. He waved at Andre as he passed and noticed a pale man wearing a dark teal cape sitting crossed legged, reading a book. The sides and back of his head were shaved and his red hair was swept to the right side. When he looked up, Ricard noted a small patch of hair on his chin.
"How was the tour?" the man asked impassively.
"Good as could be for a dead guy," joked Ricard, hoping to illicit a response from the man's blank face. He didn't. "I'm Ricard," he introduced, stretching out his hand.
"Khellius," replied the man, ignoring the hand shake. "Out of curiosity, what did she tell you while you were away?"
Ricard slowly reeled his hand back, lips pursed. "What do you mean? She told me why we've been brought back; the Lords of Cinder, rekindle the First Flame, all that. To be honest, it was a lot to take in, you know? How long have-"
Khellius cut him off. "She never spent that much time with any of us, least that I saw." He stood up, revealing leather armor with several belts and pouches under his fur-collared cape. "If there's something special about you, Ricard, keep it to yourself." He looked toward the chamber. "Most people aren't exactly happy about being here, and hearing that somebody got special attention wouldn't help the situation."
He looked Ricard in the eyes and turned to walk away. "I've had my fair share of run-in's with good men and bad men, Ricard. You don't seem like a bloodthirsty killer. But here, you just might have to be." He disappeared behind a corner as he entered the main chamber.
Strange guy… thought Ricard. Not exactly the warmest welcome, but it was far from the strangest thing to happen to him today. He waited for a few moments and continued into the chamber. There were fewer people now, but a group of three noticed him as he emerged and walked up to greet him.
"So ye got the tour of the place, eh?" came from the same hooded man with a muttonstache from before. "Seems to have taken a liken' to ya, lad, huh?" He extended his hand, which Ricard shook with a relieved smile. It seems not everyone would be as unsympathetic as Khellius.
"Name's Parnell, boy." Parnell took his hood down after shaking hands.
"Ricard, sir," responded the young knight.
Pointing to the olive-skinned man to his left, Parnell said, "This here's Sahmir. Bit of a pansy, this one, but don't hold that against him," he added with a smirk.
"How classy, Parnell. You managed a sentence without a single vulgarity." Sahmir also shook Ricard's hand. "Don't mind him, I'm fairly sure he grew up having to wipe with his hands. Speaking of, you might want to wash yours soon."
Ricard's mouth hung open for a second, then he broke into laughter along with the group. Funny, he didn't think he'd be doing much laughing when he awoke just a few hours earlier.
"This one here doesn't do much talking, but if I'm not terribly mistaken you'll be spending plenty of time together soon," said Sahmir, pointing the last man in the group. He was an extremely large, dark-skinned man with a massive pickaxe slung around his back. His stature would have made him quite intimidating if not for the gentle expression his face bore. "By process of elimination, we're pretty sure he's Tarán. That's what he responds to, anyway."
Tarán gave a half-smile (only the right side of his mouth seemed to move) and scratched his nose.
"A pleasure," said Ricard as he shook Tarán's hand. He'd never felt a tighter grip, especially one that wasn't intentionally strong.
After introductions, Ricard finally seized his chance to get some questions answered. Parnell and Sahmir were quite helpful, considerably more-so than others he had met thus far. It was another moment of comfort since his dizzying, confusing day began.
Parnell and Sahmir had both been at Firelink a few days: Parnell for three, Sahmir for four. According to Sahmir, Khellius, the man who had given Ricard a cold greeting minutes earlier, was the first one at the Shrine. Others followed, usually hours between each arrival. Throughout each induction, the Fire Keeper's response was the same: explain their situation, spark their memories, and retreat to a different part of the Shrine.
Parnell explained the general plan to Ricard. Once all the members of a party had arrived to Firelink and been outfitted for their journey, they would depart to their respective destinations as soon as possible. However, there appeared to be only one way into or out of the Shrine (as it was situated upon a large cliff side): the large bonfire in the center of the main chamber.
This piqued Ricard's curiosity, but Parnell insisted he would have to wait to see how it worked. The young knight had felt a sort of distinct power from the fire, though he knew not why.
Sahmir continued that there was only one person yet to arrive, Eva. Who it was or when they would arrive could only be guessed at. He noted that she was the reason his group hadn't left yet.
Ricard looked around. He felt like, although he had seen many people, there didn't seem to be the necessary twenty gathered at Firelink. "Where are the rest of us? Is there a separate part of the shrine I haven't seen?"
"Oh you probably haven't seen most of it, but you're not mistaken," said Sahmir. "One group already left, two days ago, in fact. The Lothric group. Most of their members were among the first to arrive."
"I see," noted Ricard. After a pause, he added, "So, if there's only one person missing, among those searching for Aldrich, then why hasn't your group departed, Parnell," he asked, referring to those seeking the Legion.
Parnell gave a bellowing laugh. "Don't let Grit hear ya, boy! He's been absolutely livid we haven't left yet. We decided to wait for the other group departing for the Undead Settlement. We figured it'd be safer if we went together, though our paths may diverge. Strength in numbers, and all that."
Ricard raised a brow.
"Ah, I forget you haven't talked with the cripple yet. Look, there's one way out of this shrine, and that's the bonfire. Thing is, there's only two places can go, as of yet: a village full of hollows known, appropriately, as the Undead Settlement, and the kingdom of Lothric."
"Wait, I thought Lothric was a Lord of Cinder?"
"Aye, that he is lad. It's also the name of his kingdom. A bit too on the nose for my taste, but that's the way it is," clarified Parnell. "Anyway, point is my party is waiting for the final member of the other to arrive so we can all leave together. You, however, will be departing for Lothric, and I don't believe your group made any promises to stay." He turned to the silent giant. "Ain't that right, Tarán?"
The man shook his head.
"Well, you should get to know the only Lord of Cinder here, Ricard, before you depart. Lord Ludleth is the one who can tell you where to go and who you'll be guiding back," suggested Sahmir. "May as well get to know anybody else here, too. We may not see each other much on our journey, but it never hurts to have someone you can rely on."
Ricard nodded and thanked his new companions. He spent the next few hours introducing himself to many of the host of Unkindled, getting a general sense of what they were like and how they felt about their duty. Though each was different in dress, speech, and temperament, most gave Ricard the sense that they were not ecstatic to be there.*
There was one, however, who avoided him diligently: the semi-masked man with the scar along the side of his head. Having met most of the others, Ricard deduced that this man must be Clive; a slight problem, seeing as they were to be traveling together. Still, though Ricard was not a man of many books, he knew people well, and assured himself he could on the distant man's good side.
After his introductions, Ricard finally climbed the stairs leading to the Thrones of the Lords. He had noticed, upon first entering Firelink, a frail, sickly looking man sitting upon the second of the five seats, but didn't get a sense for how truly pitiful he was until approaching him.
Ricard reeled momentarily. This Ludleth, this all powerful Lord of Cinder, was a pathetic sight up close. The little clothing he bore was tattered and burnt, and his tiny figure was engulfed, almost swallowed, by the enormous throne upon which he sat. He was lacking legs, though they would not have made him appear taller if he still possessed them. The only regal paraphernalia he bore, the only item indicating his Lordship, was a small iron crown placed precariously on his head, singed black near the top edges.
The many thoughts, questions, and doubts that raced through his mind were interrupted by the emerging appearance of a new figure at the Shrine entrance. Ricard turned to look at the slender, armored figure of a raven-haired woman entering Firelink Shrine. As she looked around, she was intercepted by the Fire Keeper, who seeming appeared out a previously empty room. Ricard saw the same confused expression, desperate for answers, that he bore only hours earlier. A sickening sense of satisfaction washed over him, like he was glad to not be in her position.
"Thou'rt here for answers to thy questions, art thou not?" interrupted the ashen-skinned Lord with a shaky voice, startling Ricard as he jerked his head back toward him. "Haste thou must make, as the final usher hath arriv'd."
As Ricard nodded, hoping to get a few final pieces of advice before leaving, the doors to the Fire Keeper's quarters shut. After she was done, the time for preparation would be finished, and there would be no turning back.
*See Chapter 2.5 for Ricard's initial interactions and impressions with the Unkindled
