Hey, everyone. Sorry about taking so long to update - this probably needs a good edit, too. What I'll probably end up doing is writing chapters and then when writer's block hits me (as it seems to do often), I'll go back and edit chapters. They're written quickly and honestly could be a lot better. When this story is finished, hopefully it'll be up to my standards. Anyways, enjoy this one - it's shorter than I wanted it to be simply because I took so long to get it out and wanted you to have something heh~ But! I'm really excited for the next chapter. [:
Chapter Ten
As Ostora descended the dark staircase, apprehension began to seep into her muscles and replace any present happiness. They had made it through the godforsaken church and beaten the demons within. They had fought the stone beasts on the rooftop and emerged victorious. The clear ringing of the old bell was only just beginning to fade but as it did, Ostora could feel her heart beat faster, as if to take it's place. The drumming in her ears was growing louder. This was it then: the moment she had been dreading.
As she neared the bottom of the steps, Chambers' voice could be heard as it echoed off the walls. "See Myrill," he was prattling on, "It's just a little rusted, but with a tug it should - " His voice was cut off as a clang bounced towards Ostora's ears, followed by the soft thud of a body hitting the ground and a muttered curse. "Alright, maybe not," Chambers said and the sound of quiet snickering could be heard; from Myrill, Ostora assumed. The voices had brought her feet to rest on the last step before the open doorway to the wide room they had defeated the Berenkite Knight in. Swallowing hard, Ostora's fingers tightened around her scimitar. Her shield was hooked around her back but within quick reach.
With a deep breath, Ostora stepped forth. Chambers and Myrill were huddled around a long level built between two closed gates. Myrill appeared rather uninterested though her apathetic expression could have very well been from exhaustion. Chambers' brow was furrowed with frustration as he gave the lever another tug, but at the sound of Ostora's footsteps, he straightened and turned to meet her stare with a smile.
"Rang clear as day, didn't it?" he said, smile widening as he glanced towards the roof. "I still can't believe it," The cleric's voice trailed off as the corners of his lips twitched downwards. Ostora could practically see the images flash behind the whites of his eyes; the decrepit forms of the Hollow that had stumbled their way with rusted blades, the monsterous stone gargoyles that had threatened their beings. And so many more struggles she had not been witness to.
Myrill huffed and Chambers startled, broken out of his daze. "Oh! Right, sorry," He turned back to the lever, wiping his hands on his chest. "Let's have another go,"
Crossing her arms over her chest, Myrill sighed softly and shook her head. The tips of her black hair curled at her neck, dampened by a slight sheen of sweat. Ostora's eyes lingered on the obvious wear of Myrill's body. Was that in her advantage then? If the two attacked her together, there was little chance she would win. But tired and beaten? Perhaps she stood a chance.
With a grunt, Chambers pulled hard on the lever, only to stumble backwards when it gave an inch. "Damn!" he exlcaimed.
"What is this...?" Ostora asked slowly, letting her attention dart from her two companions to the lever. Her fingers, however, held firmly to her scimitar.
"Ah, this is the lift to Firelink but as you can see, it's shut and - " Chambers stopped suddenly, confusion spreading over his expression as he took in Ostora and the weapon she held cautiously. One eyebrow quirked upwards. "Everything alright?"
For a moment, Ostora said nothing but instead searched Chambers' expression. He seemed puzzled by her tense state but was it all a rouse? His shoulders were slouched, a posture Ostora had come to see he was fond of taking in a typical, relaxed state. On his hip, his mace glittered with dried blood but his hands made no move for them. Cautiously - yet with an effort to seem casual - Ostora's own posture loosened. She kept hold of her scimitar but allowed her fingers to slacken their grasp. "Ah," she said finally. "I suppose this place still worries me,"
"Oh, well," Chambers chirped, turning back to the lever and giving it a tug. "That's silly. We cleared it out. It's safe so come give me a hand with this. Myrill needs to conserve her energy,"
Though he did not intend for them to be, Ostora struggled with the double meaning of his words. Was it safe? Truly? He seemed focused on his task and he did have a point; if planned on attacking, he would not do it with Myrill in such a weakened condition. A soft sigh escaped Ostora's lips as she hooked her scimitar to her side. They weren't going to kill her then.
Even so, she pointedly ignored the smirk Myrill flashed her. The petite woman clearly wasn't as clueless to her thoughts as Chambers was.
"One solid tug should do the trick," the cleric was saying as Ostora approached him. She wrapped both hands around the lever beneath Chambers' and he nodded once. "Alright. On the count of three. One. Two. Three!" Together, they both pulled hard against the lever and Ostora bit her lip, feeling the rust and grime crumble beneath her grip. The lever groaned, as if waking from a long slumber, but with the combined strength of Ostora and Chambers, it gave way. Ostora released her grasp quickly, managing to catch herself before stumbling backwards; something the cleric did not manage to avoid. He straightened himself quickly, throwing a grin towards Myrill.
"See? And you doubted us," he said and Myrill simply rolled her eyes.
As Chambers took hold of the metal gate, pushing it aside, Ostora caught her breath. It was fortunate for her that the duo had not decided to attack her. Unlike Myrill, she had not been gifted humanity to heal her wounds. Her body ached and each bruise and cut seemed to pound beneath her skin. Any fight made now would not end well and Ostora was grateful once more for her apparent luck.
With the gate open, Chambers took Myrill's elbow and guided her into the lift. The petite woman flashed him a frustrated look but Ostora did not miss the way her lips twitched upwards at the act of kindness. She followed behind the two, feeling any remaining tension leave her body as the lift plummeted downwards. It truly was done, then. The first Bell of Awakening had sang at last. Only one remained.
And yet, as she was beginning to learn was the pattern of this world, her moment of ease did not last. At the bottom of a small flight of stairs, a familiar face met them with shared surprise. It was the plump man who's demeanor had changed abruptly; someone who had once seemed so kind but had shifted into an air of suspicion and caution. Yet now, his eyes were wide as he stared at her taller companion.
"Petrus?" Chambers spoke, a hand still gently touching Myrill's elbow as he stepped from the lift.
Petrus nodded, giving the young cleric a soft look. Upon lifting his head, his gaze fell upon Ostora and he blinked once, seemingly startled again. "Oh, my...you again?" This time, his gaze danced to Chambers as he lifted one, thick brow. "A companion of yours?"
"As of recently, yes," Chambers answered. He looked back towards Ostora and for a second, as she slowly moved out of the lift, she was taken aback by how open his expression was. The corners of his lips lifted and there were no shadows in his eyes. His words were sincere, then - which meant he truly had no plans to steal her humanity? Or perhaps his guise was simply well worn. The thoughts rolled around in Ostora's head as the cleric turned back to the shorter man.
"Petrus, what are you doing here - ?"
Chambers' words were cut off as a man appeared by Petrus' side. With a jerk of his head, he motioned to the side. "Beggin' your pardon, but could you have your greeting by the fire? You're disrupting M'lady's prayers,"
A red blush bloomed over Petrus' face and he clucked his tongue like a bothered hen. "Oh yes, yes, of course, my apologies," With one hand, he gestured for the trio to follow him.
As they turned out into the open hall, Ostora glanced to her right. There were so many new faces at the moment - all of which seemed to know each other in some regard. Friend or foe, she had no idea - and who this "M'lady" was and why she was praying was lost on her, for that matter. Following behind Chambers and Myrill who followed Petrus, she stared at the back of a woman on her knees facing the stone wall. Her robes were thick and white, with dirt only brushed up against the bottom near her feet. The man who had interrupted Chambers caught her eye and quickly, Ostora looked away, yet all her questions remained.
It was clear to her, though, that Petrus and Chambers knew each other. As they walked through the walls of Firelink, the two of them chattered like old friends. Chambers, Ostora was amused to see, wore a faint blush of his own.
"That was her then? The one you've been waiting for?"
"Hmm? Ah, yes, that was M'lady and her young knights,"
"Will she - I mean, that is - surely she won't spend all her time staring at the wall - "
"Staring?" Petrus' tone caught Ostora's attention. "She is not merely staring, she is praying. She is young but burdened by an Undead mission."
"I meant no offense, Petrus, only that - well, what I mean - " Chambers stopped, raising one hand to cover his mouth and cough, as though his throat were suddenly dry. At his side, Myrill rolled her eyes.
"You want to meet her," Ostora murmured, tracing the wall and a thin line of moss that grew in puzzles along it. A soft mass hit her nose suddenly and she blinked, stepping back quickly, only to realize that in her daze, her companions had come to a stop. Chambers was frozen, staring at her as his mouth hung open.
"What!" Chambers said, though his broke voice on the word. "No, I - well, that is - I -"
"Ah..." Petrus said slowly, a chuckle deep in his throat. "I see. Well, I'm sure she will join us at some point. The nights are cold, after all,"
The red tone of Chambers face was only made deeper and he averted his gaze, finding interest in his feet. "Oh. Yes. They are."
Myrill grunted, pulling her arm free of the cleric and crossing both against her chest. With a sharp glare in Ostora's direction, she stepped away from the group, heading off.
"Hey Myrill - " Chambers started, making as if to follow her as concern flooded his features, but Petrus grabbed his forearm gently.
"Now, now," He said with another chuckle. "Let her have her womanly moment,"
Chambers raised one brow and Ostora matched his movement as she watched the pair. "Womanly moment?"
With a wave of his hand, Petrus clucked his tongue again. "Ah, nevermind. Come, to the fire,"
Distracted once more, the two picked up their conversation. Ostora followed behind, though she did not miss the way Petrus spared her a glance every now and then. Each was eerily familiar, filled with the same caution he had worn previously.
"But your companions are here now," Chambers was saying, "Won't you be off soon?"
"Yes..." Petrus answered slowly and this time the look he directed towards Ostora was not so subtle. "But regrettably, I cannot share those details with you..."
The larger cleric came to a slow stop, expression serious. "Perhaps it could be possible to have a word? A - " Petrus gave Chambers a pointed look. " - private - word."
Chambers blinked once as Petrus' meaning took its time to sink in. With a smile, the tall cleric turned to Ostora with a small bow. "If you'll excuse us, Ostora?"
Ostora shrugged her shoulders - whether or not the two clerics had things to discuss mattered little to her. If they wished to discuss their faith or purpose in this world, then she had no need to listen. After all, her purpose was a simple one : ring two bells. Besides - a small grin fluttered past her lips - she was sure that Chambers would ask more of "M'lady."
As the two men walked away, Ostora pushed her shoulders back with a grimace. Shrugging had been painful and yet it had loosened the knots settling over her skin. Now that there was no chatter to focus on, every bruise and cut on her body seemed heightened. The blood running through her veins seemed to pump harder and she let out a small breath, entering the wide area where the bonfire lay.
"You," said a familiar voice, and Ostora looked to her right as Gabriel slowly got to his feet. His eyes were wide and for a moment, he looked at her as if she had just grown wings and flown away. Just as quickly as it had come, the look vanished and he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes turning upwards in disinterest. "Well. Somebody rang the bell...was it you?"
His feigned boredom was no interest to Ostora and she sat herself down in front of the flames, holding out both hands to warm them. "Yes," was all she said.
Gabriel scoffed and for a moment, he remained still. Ostora shifted slightly, keeping her attention on the flames but a shiver ran over her skin. He was looking at her. She could practically feel his eyes yet she was determined not to look up. Better to let him be surprised - to be wrong about what he may have thought of her.
"Well. I didn't think you'd make it," Gabriel said at last, apparently deciding that the flames looked inviting as well. He sat across from Ostora, resting his arms against his knees lazily. "What a surprise,"
"I suppose it doesn't take much to surprise you," Ostora murmured, more to herself than anyone but a snicker came from her left and her eyes dashed in the direction of the sudden noise: Myrill, sitting on a small stone with a wide smirk.
What was more surprising, however, was the grin that flashed over Gabriel's face. "You never give up, do you? I don't know how you do it," He paused for a moment then added with a raise of one brow. "And they didn't kill you,"
"No," Ostora said quickly, body tensing. She didn't dare look over her shoulder to see what Myrill thought of that statement. "They didn't."
Her reaction fueled Gabriel's amusement and this time, the grin lingered. "There's always time for that later, I suppose. But don't stop now! Only one more - but it's going to be suicide,"
"Down below," Ostora muttered, pulling her hands away from the flames and bringing them around her waist. She rubbed her back unconsciously, pushing against her muscles as if trying to soothe them. Just the thought of what lay waiting for them made her body scream in agony. If the Church had been well guarded then surely the next Bell would be, too. Could she handle any more surprises?
"Although your suicide may come sooner than that,"
The knight's comment brought Ostora back to reality and she blinked. "Excuse me?"
With one hand, Gabriel gestured to her body. "Well, look at you. Already you look more Hollow than when I saw you last. Haven't you had any humanity?"
Ostora pressed her lips into a thin line, pointedly gazing at the center of the flames. If she were to look up, she knew exactly what would flash behind her pupils. A cheery smile. Trust given without another thought. But then Chambers and Myrill... The memory of those lifeless eyes came suddenly and Ostora flinched. "No," came her answer, purposefully quiet so the petite woman behind her would not hear. "No, I haven't."
"Don't be a fool," Gabriel snapped and the intensity of his words caught her off guard. "While it may be easier, are you so determined to go Hollow?" He stood abruptly and Ostora startled, leaning back as she watched the knight dig into a small pouch at his side. Without grace, he pulled out a small, black crystal and tossed it towards her. Ostora caught it, lips opening into a small 'o' but Gabriel cut off any words she may have been about to speak. "Just use it." He turned on his heel, making for what Ostora realized was his "spot" but in the middle of his step, he paused. For just a moment, his expression was as it seemed when he first saw her - but it was gone just as quickly and Ostora wasn't sure if it had been real. "It was earned. Not taken." the knight added.
Gabriel sat with a soft huff, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, indicating that there was nothing more to say. Cautiously, Ostora rolled the crystal in the palm of her hand. Earned. Not taken. As she held the crystal over the flames, she could feel a knot forming in the center of her throat. Earned was better, she supposed. In defense, in honor - that was better than having humanity taken and stolen. That was better than - Ostora shook herself as the image of those lifeless eyes threatened to overcome her again.
Yes. Earned was better.
The crystal fell into the flames and like a breath of wind, Ostora could feel the changes sweep over her body. Each bruise and cut felt immensely better, as though they had been tended to for weeks instead of seconds. Yet, with the feeling came exhaustion and in the silence, Ostora let herself relax. A smile flickered across her lips - what would come from this humanity? More memories? Her gaze went to the knight who appeared to be sleeping. Who knew?
From where he stood, he could see the world clearly. The tops of trees. The far off church. The clear ringing of Bells had just drifted from the air and with it had set in a strange sense of anticipation. He raised one hand, shielding his eyes as he gazed out at his surroundings, but the sun seemed to shine too brightly. It broke between his fingers despite his attempt and he pressed his eyes together. The sun. There was too much of it in his opinion.
"When, when, when, when?"
The muttering behind him went on and he looked back at the figure sitting on the floor. The thin man rocked back and forth, clutching a wooden staff with both hands. Unlike him, this man wore no mask and a pair of sunken eyes were wide. The first man shuddered - his companion was no Hollow and yet there was no life to be seen in those eyes.
"Soon," came his reply, but the rocking man paid him no real attention which wasn't unusual.
"When, when, when, when? Soon, soon, soon, soon," the chant became and with a small sigh, the man turned back towards the world.
Around him were the sounds of work and movement; of boulders falling and Hollow shifting their feet. Beneath where he stood, a closed gate glistened.
"Very soon" the man whispered. "- our sign will come."
The second man let out a high pitched giggle, body convulsing as he lay back against the stone floor of Sen's Fortress. "When? Soon, very soon! When, when? Very soon, very soon!" he raved like the lunatic he was.
The first man grinned at the madness and excitement that had overcome his companion. He reached up, readjusting the half of a skull that made up his mask.
Then turned his blue eyes forward once more.