Marcus struggled with all his might as water filled his lungs. The skull-like face of his foe gave no indication of remorse or guilty, only thirst for power and malice. The dark knight´s left hand began to produce a white light, engulfing the hand in a vortex of deceptively evil white. With a final move the skull knight trusted his arm forward.
The knight woke up in Firelink Shrine. He looked at the greatsword on his hands, a blade forged with the soul of Sif, the giant grey wolf and companion of the honorable Artorias.
"These darkwraiths, they´re pretty tough. And to think Artorias fought them in the past…" Marcus mumbled as he stood up one more time.
The warrior looked at the bright blue sky and then the great wall of stone on the distance. He rubbed the back of his head and then stared at the Dark Silver Tracer on his left hand. Somehow the blade still contained a powerful toxin, a poison powerful enough to rend down even a demon. Marcus walked down the steps of the old shrine and reached a lower level of the ancient building. He stopped halfway through and turned his head to the left. Right beneath the bonfire one could see an improvised cell carved in the rock. A small box of stone with iron bars on the front. Inside the cell a maiden was crouched, her head hanging low and her dress covered in ash. The Dark Slayer mumbled something, he sheathed his dagger and ignited his pyromancy flame.
(Present Day)
Marcus spotted a large fire on the distance, so he headed towards its location. As he approached the flame he noticed forms obstructing the warm light in irregular intervals. He grabbed his binoculars with his left hand to get a better look. The knight spotted a person wearing brown robes and a humanoid creature wielding a spear and shield, both were fighting side-by-side against a warrior wearing black armor.
"Mildred was right! I need to hurry!" he thought rushing towards the duel.
The knight stored the shield in his soul, retrieved the claymore, passing it to his right hand and the spear to his left and checked the Dark Silver Tracer on his belt. When he was close enough he stopped midtrack and leaned back with the spear by his side. The darkwraith had his hands full with the swamp dwellers to notice the astorian aiming his spear at him and was caught by surprise when a long spear landed by his feet. Wasting no time Heysel stepped forward and fired a large soul spear directly at the fallen knight´s belly. The magical projectile pierced the rusty and fragile armor and passed through the entirety of the wraith´s body, flying over the polluted water and directly towards Marcus.
The astorian sidestepped the soul spear with ease, having done it multiple times in the past. Meanwhile the darkwraith kneeled on the ground, his hands holding the injury to stop the black blood from leaking out. The spearman approached from the side and pierced his back with the spear, prompting the invader to release his black blade and roar in pain. Heysel came from the front and extended her arm down, the catalyst almost touching the darkwraith´s forehead. The sorceress channeled all her might and fired a wave of small soul arrows, destroying the skull-like mask and obliterating the wraith´s face. The skull knight fell backwards and landed on the poisonous water of the swamp, his head covered by the murky water.
Heysel sighed as the spearman approached her. The beast placed a hand over her shoulder and mumbled something.
"No, I´m fine." Heysel spoke with a sincere smile.
The beast grunted again and pointed his arm forward, instigating the sorceress to follow the direction he was pointing at. A knight wielding a greatsword and dagger was approaching their location.
Marcus reached the small patch of dry earth and shook his legs to remove the excess of water in his boots, his attention fully directed on the task at hand. The swamp dwellers watched him in silence, the spearman with the shield in front of him and the sorceress with her weapon at hand. The knight coughed and then retrieved his spear from the ground.
"I suppose you´re one of the people afflicted by poison." the warrior said nonchalant and then looked at the corpse by his side. "I tried to hit him from afar, guess my aim is not as good as before. Sorry." he apologized.
The spearman garbled something, making the astorian tilt his head to the side.
"What did he say?" Marcus asked the sorceress.
Heysel remained quiet, the man in front of her would instantly recognize her if…
"Don't you know either, Yellow Wolf?" he asked genuinely interested.
Heysel bit her lips. How did he know?
"Your catalyst. Kinda hard to miss someone with a pick/catalyst with golden cloth around it." the astorian pointed at the object.
The sorceress looked at her catalyst, cursed herself for such stupidity and looked back at the knight. "Pippin and Gaston, the guards at the entrance…" she started but was interrupted by the knight.
"I just knocked them out with a blunt hit on the head. They should be awake by now." Marcus explained. "A friend of mine warned me about them, but I was hoping she was mistaken." he pointed his spear at the fallen darkwraith by his side.
The spearman garbled at the sorceress, his tone urgent and severe.
"Yes, warn the others about the darkwraiths. Tell them we have a newcomer seeking to fight the Watchers." Heysel ordered.
The beast man 'spoke' again, this time in a more cautious tone.
"I will be fine. Now, go." the sorceress said pointing to her left.
The spearman nodded and ran away the fasted he could, leaving the humans alone to talk.
"So you DO understand them." Marcus commented intrigued at how she was able to translate such incoherent garbling. "And I thought the demon language was hard to understand. Speaking of witch, is she wearing an enchanted ring?" he thought looking at her hands.
"I presume you want your revenge." Heysel spoke emotionless.
"I think we can agree the darkwraiths are a bigger problem at the moment." he said storing the spear in his soul.
Heysel hesitated but gave a small nod, "And when this is over?" she asked.
"It will depend upon you, will you continue to be a…?" the knight coughed. "…a black phantom?" he inquired.
"You´re sick." the sorceress pointed out.
"It´s the poison. Speaking of which, will I turn into one of those creatures?" the astorian asked.
"Not unless you live here for decades." Heysel answered.
"Good to know." the knight looked around. "Do you happen to know what exactly what are those flames I need to extinguish? I suppose it isn´t a simple bonfire." he pointed his sword at the campfire behind the sorceress, the fire casting a long shadow over the knight.
"Why are you a lord seeker?" Heysel asked tightening her grip over the catalyst.
"Someone has to link the Fire." Marcus sighed, "I wondered why, of all the lords, the Abyss Watchers aren´t sitting on their throne. But now I understand why. It is the Abyss, right?" he asked.
Heysel turned away from the knight and faced the bonfire. "Your interference is unnecessary. The Watchers will return…in due time." her voice faltered at the end.
"You believe in them." Marcus commented.
"The Abyss Watchers have true strength, more than anyone in this world." the sorceress spoke with conviction. "There´s no abyssal creature they can´t defeat, no matter how much time it takes they always emerge victorious!" she said more to herself than to the knight behind her. "That´s…that´s why you don´t need to interfere." she told the astorian.
"Maybe I can help them with the Abyss." Marcus suggested.
"You don´t have to kill them!" Heysel turned suddenly, tears starting to form on her eyes.
"I cannot do it myself; I lack the strength, and the bravery…" Quelana´s word echoed in Marcus´s mind. "If they are as strong as you say, and they still have light in their souls, then maybe I can help them." the astorian answered.
Heysel cleaned the tears from her face, "What…are you planning?" she asked snorting.
"I may regret this later, but I don´t want to fail again, and my secret will likely be revealed after this anyway." the knight thought.
Marcus summoned Sif from his soul and held the greatsword with both hands.
Heyse´s eyes widened, it was as if she had seen the ghost of Artorias himself standing right in front of her. She took a step back and only stopped due to the heat of the fire behind her.
"This is…" the sorceress took a step forward to take a better look.
"A replica of Artorias´s sword." the astorian nodded. "It is also enchanted with a blessing against the Abyss, just like the one wielded by the wolf knight. Although, to be honest, I don´t think it is nearly as powerful as the original." Marcus inspected the blueish blade. "My plan is to hit them until the blessing erases the Abyss." he said.
Heysel approached the knight, seemingly hypnotized by the blade.
"May I…take a look?" she asked wishful.
"No, and I won´t let you inspect my catalyst either." the knight shook his head as he stored the weapon in his soul, much to the sorceress´s anguish. "If you really want them you will have to kill me again, but this will only add to the pile of sins you have." Marcus sighed.
Heysel gulped, she looked at the catalyst on the knight´s belt and then at Marcus´s face. She lifted her arm and extended her hand forward.
"I see…" Marcus said holding his claymore with the right hand. "It seems someone wants to go hollow today." he calmly said. "YOU HAVE NO GUTS, DO YOU?!" he spun around and blocked a dark thick blade with his sword.
Marcus struggled against the brute strength of the fallen knight, he saw his opponent channeling energy on the left and so backed away just in time to avoid a fatal grab. Heysel fired a quick soul arrow at the darkwraith but the skull knight formed a spectral dark round shield on his left hand and blocked the attack.
"I don´t think your magic will be effective against that shield." Marcus whispered. "Try hitting it with your pick." he suggested. "Dark Shields are highly resistant to fire, magic and lighting, but vulnerable to physical attacks." Marcus thought as he stood by Heyse´s side.
The skull knight charged at Marcus, making the astorian wonder if he held some type of grudge for killing him in the past. Marcus grabbed the Dark Silver Tracer from his belt and blocked the attack with the greatsword and parried the left hand with his dagger, staggering his opponent and giving Heysel a window to shoot an iron bolt at the wraith´s head. The fallen man stumbled to the side but recovered just in time to block a downward swing from Marcus with his shield.
Marcus went for another strike but the darkwraith sidestepped his attack and began a sequence of cuts and slashes as he walked forward in a steady pace. The astorian parried a stab aimed at his chest, ducked under a swing directed at his head and stepped away from a heavy frontal kick. Heysel took the opportunity to fire two quick soul darts at the invader, which chipped the frail armor of the knight of New Londo. Marcus went for a stab with his dagger as he swung his claymore horizontally but the darkwraith simply jumped back and out of reach before dashing forward for an upward swing. The Lord of Cinder blocked the thick blade with his sword and parried the left hand of the fallen knight with his dagger when he attempted a grab from above. Both combatants unlocked their blades and jumped back to get some distance.
"This is bad, the only thing keeping my alive is my memories. I could barely block his blade. They were already a challenge back them. If this goes on…" The knight´s thoughts were interrupted by a blade plunging through his chest.
The darkwraith pulled back his left hand as he invoked the mortal art of lifedrain to take away Marcus´s humanity. Marcus coughed blood and released his claymore, his thoughts fading and his concentration spreading like embers from a bonfire. With a last ditch effort the astorian pulled back his right hand as he channeled his inner flame through his arm and towards his fingers. Both combatants trusted their hands forward, each seeking the other´s face.
Heysel was about to fire a Soul Spear at the darkwraith when a fiery explosion engulfed the skull´s knight´s face, blasting him away and unintentionally pulling off the thick blade from the astorian´s chest. Marcus´s legs failed him and he fell on the damp ground of the swamp.
"You wanted my flame, didn´t you? Do you like it?" Marcus smirked before coughing blood.
The astorian saw the invader walking forward, apparently ignoring him and focusing on Heysel. The skull knight blocked a couple of soul darts with his shield as he casually walked past the injured Lord of Cinder, oblivious to the fact that the astorian was holding his talisman.
"Force or Heal, Force or Heal?" Marcus thought as he held the fabric close to his chest.
Blue sparks of magic took flight and exploded upon swirling darkness, the sound akin to a punch hitting a wall. Marcus prayed for a miracle, a miracle to save a life and condemn another. A prayer of unrelenting strength, of unrelenting will and a manifestation of one´s emotion.
The darkwraith was blown away by a wave of white energy. Heysel acted quickly, running to close the gap between them as fast as possible. The sorceress lifted the pick above her head and swung it down at the fallen darkwraith but he quickly formed a Dark Shield to block the attack. Remembering the words from the injured astorian the guardian of Farron grasped her weapon with both hands and proceeded to successively hit the shield with all her might. The skull knight erased his own shield and trusted his thick blade forward but was surprised when the blade missed its target. A high-pitched noise came from the side and a crack followed soon after. The fallen knight looked down at his chest, a blue ethereal blade had penetrated his rusty armor and pierced his belly. Heysel swung her catalyst upwards, breaking the black armor of the invader and cutting through the flesh within. The magical blade erupted from the shoulder of the knight of New Londo, spilling blood on the already dark water of the swamp. The dark knight gargled something and then fell back, the water consuming his body in an instant.
A cough caught Heysel´s attention, prompting her to look over her shoulder. She walked back to Marcus and kneeled by his side, only through experienced eyes it was possible to see the almost insignificant movement of his chest. The sorceress lifted the man´s visor and was met with livid blue eyes staring back at her.
"Not…the eye." the knight whispered.
The guardian of Farron grabbed the undead´s Estus Flask and moved it towards the astorian´s lips but stopped midway. The knight looked at the sorceress but was too weak to even mutter a word.
"You…don´t believe me, do you?" Marcus thought.
Marcus felt his eyes getting heavier as the sky darkened over his body. He couldn´t feel the pain, warmth or light and each second felt like an eternity. His flame was fading and he was too weak to rekindle it. But of course, when the flames can´t be renewed by the lords themselves, the unkindled are called for the duty. And although many ashes were lost to the winds of time, those who still persist go to the boundaries of the world to guarantee the survival of hope and life.
The knight opened his eyes, he could feel his heart beating again and hear his thoughts without trouble. His head slowly moved to the side and his eyes met the back of a person walking away from him. Heysel was leaving him and as far as he could tell she was the one who healed him. The astorian used his arms to lift his back and after a moment of hesitation he sat on the ground.
"Thanks!" the Lord of Cinder exclaimed with a smile on his face.
Heysel stopped, "There are three altars spread across Farron. Find them and extinguish their flames…" she hesitated, "…only then the gate to the Watchers will open." she instructed and then resumed walking.
(Firelink Shrine)
Anri examined his straight sword. It was a relic of Old Astora, the royal land now lost to time. The hilt was covered by blue straps, the golden cross-guard was slightly bent upwards at the end and the blade itself had a faint greyish blue tint. The sword wasn´t sharp, in fact it was quite dull, and it was neither the longest or lightest. A foot soldier would easily disregard such a blade but Anri never considered leaving it behind.
"Anri, are you okay?" Horace asked gently.
The blond astorian looked at the roof of the shrine. Both astorians were sat on the first set of stairs of the ash-filled temple while Mildred took a nap not too far away.
"I´m afraid, Horace. More than ever before." the blonde astorian said with a heavy tone.
"Why do you say that?" Horace asked.
"I had terrible luck in the past: my parents, my life, my friends, Aldrich…but now things are apparently changing. I´m blessed to have a friend such as you, to find lady Mildred safe and well even after all this time…to finally meet Marcus of Astora…It feels like…too good to be true. My luck is abnormally high at the moment." the younger astorian looked at his left hand. "I fear this is just a dream, an illusion of sorts, and I´m afraid of waking up." his voice wavered.
Horace put a hand over his friend's shoulder. "This isn´t a dream, I can assure you. Also, luck doesn´t exist." he told Anri.
"How can you say that there´s no luck? Horace, we met Marcus just in time to cure us, to cure you. We were in the right place and time to meet lady Mildred. We were the only ones…" Anri looked down. "How can tell me we´re not lucky?" he asked the black knight.
"Marcus is a lordseeker just like us, we were going to meet sooner or later. Mildred lives on that forest and we are here today just because we fought our way through the cathedral and our friends gave us a chance to escape. None of this was mere chance. What you call luck is just the consequence of our actions and those who helped us." Horace answered convicted of his opinion.
"The result of our actions…" Anri looked at the sleeping Mildred.
"This is our only chance." Horace whispered.
"But lady Mildred…" the blonde hesitated.
"…will never let us fight Aldrich. Come on, Anri. You know she´s too overprotective." the black knight argued.
The younger astorian looked at his blue shield, "They just want to protect us…Are we really ready to face Aldrich by ourselves? We can barely fight hollows." he asked his companion.
"We will make it happen. I won´t let them hurt you again." Horace said determined.
"Maybe we should let Marcus do it…" Anri spoke quietly.
"Perhaps. But we made a promise, remember?" the black knight asked.
Anri closed his eyes as he hung down his head. "…We…would come back…for our friends…and if it was too late…" the blonde gazed upon the bonfire.
Painful expressions appeared amidst the flames of the shrine, faces of fear, terror and anguish. All of them screamed for help and mercy, calling the astorians for their aid, but no pleas were heard and one by one the faces faded, leaving only a stronger but darker flame behind. A dark blue flame replaced the bright orange and what was once a symbol of hope became a menacing sight.
Anri blinked, the bonfire had regained its original tone and no face could be found in the fiery waves that engulfed the sword. He grabbed a ring from his pouch. The metal was pure black with a gem on top of it, which was a mixture of black and dark yellow with a white slit on the middle. The astorian inspected the ring in silence, it was a magical ring created from the soul of a terrible monster. Long ago, when Astora still existed, a monster ravaged the kingdom. This creature almost succeeded in destroying the land, but was defeated by the sword of a noble astorian knight and its soul imprisoned in a mystical ring, never to be released again. Ironically, the ring itself remained while the kingdom was left to ruins due to the Undead Curse.
"I must be strong, I want to be like them…" the blonde astorian clutched the ring. "Let´s go." Anri said with renewed vigor.
Both astorians stood by the side of the bonfire, Horace teleported himself out of the shrine but Anri glanced back at the sleeping woman. Mildred was resting on top of a pile of ash which had accumulated on some of the steps of the shrine. She was sleeping comfortably using a pile of cloth as a makeshift pillow, she gave a loud snore and then mumbled something in her sleep.
"I´m sorry…" Anri whispered feeling guilty of his choice.
The blonde astorian extended his hand over the bonfire and disappeared in a yellow mist.
(Farron)
Marcus stood in front of some type of altar. It was a stone table with what looked like to be a furnace built alongside the wall. A steady orange blame burned within the furnace, shielded from the filthy of the swamp and the poison that plagued it. Its guardians were spread across the ground and their spears and shields not far away from their corpses. Their wounds were lethal but it was rare to find more than one in each body.
The astorian needed souls to get stronger and link the First Flame but that didn´t mean he liked killing good people, especially those that still retained their sanity. The inhabitants of Farron were a fierce force indeed, their swings were wide and sometimes clumsy, but their determination and ferocity were not to be underestimated. They were fast and could easily catch a veteran off guard. Marcus wondered if their ferocity came from the poison or if this was something they retained even to this day.
The Lord of Cinder extended his hand to extinguish the flame of the altar, but stopped when he saw a peculiar thing above the flame. There was an image carved on the stone around and above the flame. It depicted the Bed of Chaos, the mother of all demons, extending its roots around itself.
"Tsk, what is the meaning of this?" a female voice asked.
Marcus looked at his left, Mildred was standing by his side looking at the depiction of the Witch of Izalith. Except, she wasn´t really there. The knight could see through her body and the color of her face and cloths were greyish in tone, gaining and losing color each moment. It was nothing but a shade, an imperfect union of worlds. Time was convoluted in Lordran, the distortion of time allowing people from past and future to meet each other for certain periods of time. A perfect union meant that two people could interact with each other while an imperfect occurrence only allowed to see the shadow or silhouette of the person. The nature of a partial bond was diverse, sometimes both sides could see each other while in other cases only one side was aware of the other's presence. However, a nearby bonfire always allowed one side to see the other in their normal shape with colors and defined traits.
The knight guessed that he was seeing nothing but the past of Mildred, and so didn´t even bother saying anything. He could ask her later after all.
Mildred stared at the picture with contempt, old memories resurfaced from the darkness of her mind as she relived a very personal moment.
(Flashback)
"Mom." a kid called.
"Yes, my dear?" a female voice asked bringing a small candle closer to her face.
Mildred smiled tenderly to her son, they were in a small room made of stone with candles spread on each corner of the room.
"What is the Sun?" the boy asked.
"The Sun? Why do you ask this?" Mildred asked.
The kid shifted underneath his blanket, "I heard from one of the priests." he answered timidly.
"Oh...well...The Sun is a very, very, very big flame that burns in the sky. It gives light and warmth to everyone, just like Izalith's flame." she explained.
"Hm…" the boy mumbled, "But won´t the Sun burn the sky? Our fireplace burns wood." the kid asked.
"It doesn´t work like that, dear. The Sun and Izalith's fire are good flames. Izalith and her daughters are nice people, they wouldn´t even think about burning the sky or anything like that." the mother waved her free hand, dismissing the idea. "Now, go to sleep. We have many things to do tomorrow." she said caressing her son's cheek.
"Mom." the kid called.
"Yes?" Mildred asked.
"I love you." the boy said.
"I love you too." the woman kissed the boy's forehead.
(End of Flashback)
Marcus extinguished the flame of the altar with his hand. He looked upwards and saw the last embers floating in the sky for a brief moment until they dispersed into nothing.
"Marcus..." Mildred's shade whispered, catching the astorian off guard.
The knight looked at the waning form of the demon huntress, she was looking at the altar, still clueless to his presence.
"Thank you…" she said as her form disappeared.
The knight looked at the image of the Bed of Chaos, "We will save you Mildred, we won´t let your hunger overcome you." he thought.
The astorian took a sip of his estus flask but then noticed something was out of place. He lifted the flask up to his face.
"Enough for…4 sips? But I only drank one a minute ago, unless…Heysel, she healed me with my own estus flask. Hm…If I use two per flame I should be able to do it. It is just a matter of time." the knight murmured putting the flask away.
The knight from Astora resumed his search for the remaining flames. As he progressed through the swamp he couldn´t help but sense a feeling of familiarity. The landscape was foreign to him, the inhabitants different from the ones he faced in the past and no familiar face to be seen, so why something in his soul was telling him that he had already been there in the past? The Lord of Cinder tried to remember every forest he went through in the past, but none where similar to this swamp. He continued to ponder about the place when he noticed it was getting harder to move around, the water was significantly deeper in that particular part of the swamp, enough to reach the knight's knees.
"Not good, it would be troublesome if one of those berserkers charged at me" the knight thought grabbing the Partizan spear and Crest Shield from his soul.
The warrior put the blue shield on his back and wielded the spear on his right hand and the Spider Shield on his left. He couldn´t sprint on such terrain nor perform a good roll so he chose to fully protect himself from incoming attacks. The astorian proceeded as quickly as possible while paying attention to his surroundings for any ambush.
Marcus's fears would be proven to be correct, a pair of orange eyes watched him from behind a rotten tree, keeping quiet as the clueless human jogged through the swamp. More eyes appeared around the area, drawing closer and closer with ill intent. The knight held the shield closer to his body and whispered a few words. The eyes were almost upon him, two pairs leaped forward and…
"FORCE!" Marcus shouted with all the power of his lungs.
The menacing eyes were blasted away together with the poisonous water of the swamp. Marcus kept holding his talisman with the left hand, he was wearing the shield on his arm so that he could cast miracles and block at the same time. The knight spun around swinging the spear around him in a half circle. The sharpened tip of the spear slashed a pair of the giant orange eyes before piercing through another one.
"Basilisks." Marcus said trusting his spear at the head of one of the creatures.
Basilisks were frog-like creatures, only slightly taller than dogs. The creature had black hide and a red membrane under its jaw that could inflate many times its size. Physically a basilisk was a frail monster, while their claws could cause some harm they were easily stopped by a cheap chain mail and their hide could be easily penetrated by a standard iron sword. Their danger, however, lied in their breath. The monster could spew an accursed mist capable of petrifying a person in a matter of seconds, something they often did against unprepared warriors and travelers. The strangest aspect of the creature, however, was a pair of globes above their head. These globles were twice as big as a cannon ball and resembled a pair of dark orange eyes with a black pupil, and although they were not actually the real eyes of the beast, which were small ones just above the nose, they contained a strange power associated with Nito, the first of the dead.
Marcus saw one of the creatures pull back its head and inflate its lower membrane to spew a petrifying mist at him so he threw the spear at it, killing the monster before it could do anything.
"Do you REALLY need more weapons?" the knight remembered Mildred's question.
The knight pulled another spear from his soul and pierced through the mouth one of the basilisks. He released the weapon, pulled another spear and trusted it upwards to stab a third monster that had jumped towards him. The difference between pulling a new spear and removing one from a corpse was just a second, but staying in the creature's mist for three seconds was enough to turn a person into a statue, and in a terrain where you can hardly jog this meant certain death.
The Lord of Cinder bashed the last creature with his shield and then trusted down his spear at the exposed head of the basilisk. The beast swayed to the sides for a moment before collapsing to the ground. The knight sighed in relief as he allowed his adrenaline to subside. He recovered the spear from the corpse and then stabbed both orange globes with it. Marcus knew that servants of Nito used them to havoc chaos across worlds and lure undead into their own worlds to be killed. It was something Patches had told him and that he later confirmed by himself. Determined to not let the globes be used for nefarious intentions, he went back to every corpse and pierced both globes of each creature before retrieving the rest of the spears. It was a small service to other undead but one he was glad to do.
The undead found the second altar not too long after and was forced to fight more of the inhabitants of the swamp. After killing the guardians of the altar he noticed that the altar had another image above it, this time showing a giant skeleton with smaller ones beneath it.
"Nito?" the knight crossed his arms. "Wait, we have one for Izalith and one for Nito. Could it be that the last one is Gwyn?" he asked himself. "Extinguish three flames, it is almost like I´m collecting their flames to face the Abyss Watchers." he chuckled. "I fought some creatures to collect Izalith's flame and basilisks for Nito's. What´s next? An elite group of warriors for Gwyn's?" the astorian said extinguishing the flame.
The Lord of Cinder took a sip of his estus flask and walked away from the "island" located amidst the ocean of poison. He jogged as quickly as possible but always paying attention to the trees, after all, some snakes were able to easily mimic branches of trees. Not too long after finding the second flame the knight spotted a small orange light at the distance. It was tiny and hidden amongst the rocks of a mound of earth, but visible to the trained eyes of the god seeker.
(Flashback)
"I will remember thee, but I will keep thy story to myself." an old female voice spoke.
Sunlight shined upon a sanctuary hidden in a forest. The stone monuments, pillars honoring past leaders and warriors, surrounded the bonfire in the middle of circular area. Marcus stood in front of a particularly large white mushroom with a red top, one that was taller than him and twice as large. This mushroom was called Elizabeth of Oolacile, mistress of golden sorceries and a godmother to Dusk of Oolacile.
"What? Why would you hide my feats?!" Marcus asked indignant.
"Thou cometh from a time far ahead of our own, to celebrate a hero that is not yet born is something that shouldn´t be done, otherwise the fabric of time and reality will be damaged." Elizabeth explained, her voice calm and carrying years of wisdom.
"THAT IS NONSENSE!" Marcus shouted. "People use soapstones all the time! I know people from different times and lands! This happens EVERY, SINGLE, DAY!" he explained.
"So the fabric of time is already in tatters." the mushroom said hopeless. "I understand the origin of thy anger, but imagine the consequences of your time travel changing such an important event." Elizabeth said.
The god slayer scratched his own helm in frustration as he tried to contain the wrath within him. "I save your life, your forest, Dusk, slay one of the worst beings that has ever existed and you deny me meritocracy! YOU asked me to save Dusk, if ripping the fabric of time was so important to you then WHY ask me to do it on the first place?!" Marchs pointed at the mushroom.
"I…I had no other option." the mushroom turned to the sides, the equivalent of shaking the head for a mushroom. "Dusk is such a sweet girl, I…I couldn´t fathom the idea of losing her to that beast." Elizabeth dropped her head.
Marcus growled as he bent over himself. "I won´t…accept this!" he said turning away from the mushroom.
The knight held his chest with the left hand and the head with the other, he stumbled towards the bonfire like a drunk man.
"What is happening?" Elizabeth asked worried.
"Shut up!" Marcus shouted as he fell on his knees and used his hands to support himself. "I´m busy right now!" he said with a snarl.
Marcus sweated profusely, he had to contain himself and his abyssal emotions or he would doom the entire world. There was a battle inside of him, a fight with dark and abyssal feelings. Marcus's abyss was never really that powerful nor constant, but the denial of meritocracy, one of his strongest principles, gave the abyss a never seen strength at that point.
"I have to do…something! Anything!" the knight thought desperate. "I´M GOING TO KILL YOU!" he thought as abyssal emotions gained ground in his soul.
The god slayer gasped, drops of a black viscous substance were leaking from his helm and fingers. Time was running out and it wouldn´t be long until the Abyss began spreading once more. He couldn´t allow such a disaster to occur again, he wouldn´t condemn the entire world just because of this. There had to be a way to restrain himself, but what? What could possibly save him from feelings caused by injustice?
(End of the Flashback)
Marcus crossed his arms, he was inside a very insignificant and unremarkable cave. The interior had a round space, it was a few meters wide and three meters high. A few round pots were placed on both sides but they had long lost their original color and content. Fortunately for the knight, the ground was dry and so the undead took the opportunity to eat some purple moss he had found in the swamp minutes ago. There were a bunch of candles burning on the ground at the far corner of the cave, giving some much needed light to the otherwise dark hideout.
The Lord of Cinder took a deep breath, he had to be careful or the world would be doomed. There, right in front of him, was a face he wasn´t expecting to face. Elizabeth of Oolacile, godmother of princess Dusk, was having a terrible coughing to the point of bending over due to the pain. She hadn´t notice him yet and up to that point the knight had made no attempt of announcing his presence.
"Well, look at this one. From what far away age hasth thou cometh? I believe it has been over 100 Ages of Fire, at least that´s what Andre of Astora thinks." Marcus rubbed his chin. "You don´t smell so good, but it isn´t tolerable. There´s mushroom for improvement, though." he said nonchalant.
Elizabeth's once white skin was now covered with black and brown marks and her once crimson top had lost its vibrant color. The mushroom was already considered old when the undead first met her, but it was clear that death was very near at that point.
"This…voice…" the mushroom coughed, "Thou art…"
"Yes?" the warrior leaned forward, "Who am I? What did I do?" he asked.
Elizabeth coughed even harder than before, "...the one who, the pain!" the mushroom squinted her eyes.
"Come on, it isn´t so hard, is it? Who am I? How do you know me? As far as I´m concerned chronologically speaking I have never met you before." the Lord of Cinder teased.
"Thou…" Elizabeth gave a profound breath, "…saved Oolacile." she managed to say before coughing.
Marcus mumbled something, "Oh, but you must be mistaken. Everyone and every vocal legend tells the story of the great knight Artorias of Anor Londor, slayer of darkwraiths, and the one who killed Manus, father of the Abyss. Unless you´re implying that I´m Artorias of Anor Londo, savior of Oolacile, is that it?" he asked.
"No, thy name is…" the old mushroom squirmed in pain, "Thy name is…" she closed her white eyes as she tried to remember.
The Lord of Cinder braced himself for the answer. Would she say his name and honor her promise or prove his abyssal claims from long ago? The knight held his breath, he needed to know the truth.
"…" the mushroom bent forward, but this time there was no coughing.
"So…?" Marcus said.
"I…" the mushroom whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Yes?" the knight said.
"…I forgot…" Elizabeth said ashamed.
Marcus sighed, "Well…I was already expecting this." the knight said disappointed, "I guess those mushrooms are the only real reward I will ever get…uh?" the knight felt an insignificant amount of souls entering his body. "She´s dead…" he whispered looking at the corpse in front of him.
The knight bit his own tongue and clenched his fists, "And now the last citizen of Oolacile is gone. Why you, of all people, had to be the one? You didn´t even remember my name anymore, it was the only thing that I asked you before leaving. And don´t say 'I still remember your deeds', this doesn´t count. What if people had started calling Nito 'The Death God' and then 'the first person that died' and on and on until calling him 'the skeleton'? Would people even recognize he´s a god? Would they remember what he was like and his deeds? What about Seath? Father of Sorcery, the Pale Dragon, pale beast? Would they know he´s actually a white scaleless dragon? The answer is no.
A name may look like just a word, but it is so much more. It is the culmination of our being, it can summarize so many aspects and traits and yet distinguish people from one another. My name is the only thing I remember from my former life…and although I can´t determine my entire former life using it, I can at least say for sure that Astora was my homeland, which is already a good thing." the man sighed. "And don´t say that you forgot because it has been over 100 ages, Mildred remembered my name and she´s undead!" the knight turned his back to the mushroom and left the cave.
(Later)
The Lord of Cinder summoned his Crest Shield and Partizan. He had reached the final altar, which was located on a dry mound of earth, but this time only Heysel was standing in front of the flame.
"You´re the last obstacle? Quite the challenge." Marcus admitted.
"I would be, but I have already tested you." the sorceress shook her head.
"But you defeated me, and I lost to the darkwraith." Marcus admitted.
"I defeated you not because of your lack of skill, but because of your techniques. Tell me, where did you learn to fight like that?" she asked.
Marcus felt sweat running free across his face, "I watched the movements of wolves, and I was inspired by the feats of Artorias, although the source was terribly damaged so I couldn´t learn everything I wanted." he revealed. "Artorias wasn´t using his normal fighting style and was injured, after all." he thought.
"Hm…so you had learned from reading a book and watching the movements of wolves? I suppose a person could manage to reach some degree of success…" Heysel speculated. "…but your moves are slightly different and lack precision and speed, unlike the Watchers." she told the Lord of Cinder.
"Hm? They are currently physically stronger than me? This is terrible, for me, but good thing to know." Marcus thought. "Thanks for telling me." slightly annoyed at the comparison.
"Don´t misjudge my words. You may not be as swift and strong as an Abyss Watcher, but I see potential in you. You may extinguish the flame." Heysel stepped aside and gestured towards the flame of the altar.
"It feels weird to be granted access to something without a fight…" the astorian thought walking towards the altar. He stood in front of the stone altar and looked upwards to see the stone tablet over the fire. "Huh? The Four Kings?" he whispered.
The Lord of Cinder was expecting the image of Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight, but instead was met with the figures of four humans with crowns over their heads and flames spreading underneath their feet.
"Four Kings? Are you familiar with the legend of the Chosen Undead?" the acolyte asked genuinely surprised.
"What?! They know about me? Even though it has been over 100 ages?!" Marcus thought looking back at Heysel, fortunately the closed helm hid his surprised expression. "I…guess so." he shifted the weight of his body. "Although I´m not entirely sure how the story really begins nor how many things transpired." he admitted. "Even I don´t remember everything. I can still tell the entire layout of the places I went through, but HOW did Siegmeyer enter the cathedral through the window?!" he thought.
"But didn´t you see the images on the rest of the altars?" Heysel asked.
"I did, but I thought they represented the three main gods: Nito, Izalith and Gwyn. If these tablets tell the legend of the Chosen Undead, shouldn´t there be one for Seath the Scaleless?" the knight asked rubbing the top of his helm.
The sorceress looked away, "There used to be one…but time destroyed it. I´m planning to rebuild it, but not at the moment. Even still, I thought we were some of the few who knew about the legend of the first human lord of cinder." she looked back at the astorian. "Most people have forgotten at this point, or only know about the death of one or two of the holders of the sacred flames. The Legion of Farron recognizes the deeds of the Chosen Undead, and we try our best to preserve their memory, although…" Heysel hesitated.
"You don´t know their name." Marcus completed with a sigh and then a cough.
"It pains me to say this, but yes. We searched far and wide for information, researched entire books, went after every possible person that could have held the information, but nothing. I suspect that no one was recording them at the time, after all, they were the second to link the fire. I doubt there was any type of tradition. People often speculate on who was the Chosen Undead. Some say they were a woman, others say they were a man, some say knight; sorcerer; pyromancer; cleric…no one has a clue." the acolyte´s shoulder fell.
"I`m a man, but the rest is mostly correct. I´m a knight, sorcerer, pyromancer that can use miracles. I´m far from being a cleric, though." Marcus thought. "I wish I could tell you, but…" the knight looked back at the altar. "…but you would spread it like fire. DAAMN IT! WHY IT HAS TO BE LIKE THIS?!" he thought frustrated but his posture remained stoic.
"I see, you don´t know as well. Forgive me, I should have known better." Heysel apologized.
"No problem." the Lord of Cinder extinguished the last flame of the swamp. "You have no idea how happy I am right now! But I wish I could tell you the entire truth. Focus, focus, be satisfied you idiot!" he thought as he repressed his abyssal emotions.
A creature of Farron approached the sorceress with urgency, he leaned forward and seemed to whisper on the acolyte's ear.
"What? Together? But this is unusual, unless…" Heysel looked back at the knight.
"What´s the problem?" Marcus asked worried.
"Darkwraiths, the Ghru had spotted a sizable group on one of the corners of the swamp. They´re currently going to Farron's mausoleum." she said looking at her left.
"Then we must go." Marcus stated.
"No, you go to the Abyss Watchers and…help them." the sorceress shook her head. "The acolytes will handle the darkwraiths and prevent them from interfering." Heysel ordered.
"But what about you?" the knight asked.
"We are strong, even more so when united. They´re our old enemy and we will take care of them." the acolyte stated.
Marcus saw the fire in Heysel´s eyes, there was such a powerful determination contained within, a will akin to obsession. He had no doubt that the sorceress would sacrifice her own life to hunt down the last of the darkwraiths.
"Very well, it's your choice." Marcus nodded.
"There´s a bonfire inside that tower, but don´t take too long." the sorceress pointed at her left.
"I rarely stay on a bonfire." Marcus told the acolyte.
Notes:
I´m sorry for taking so long, but I'm currently doing an extensive work in my university and that is my priority at the moment. Fortunately that work is almost complete, and I will have more free time after that.
Gaston and Pippin's name are references to Berserk, I thought it was fitting considering that Farron's Legion and the Band of the Hawk's main trait is camaraderie.
In this story Marcus didn´t find the Ring of the Evil Eye in the Depths, but it was later found by other adventurers and was passed/lost and found through the ages until Anri found it during their adventures. In the game it is stated that Anri misses their kingdom, and it is not far-fetched to believe that they were inspired by legends of astorian knights.
I guess Marcus FORCES his way through his obstacles, huh? XD
It always bothered me that Elizabeth would try to hide the Chosen Undead's victory over Manus, even though we have soapstones that allow such events to occur. I´m sure that some players were pissed at her for doing it. Just to be clear, his meeting with Elizabeth occurs before his encounter with Ciaran, but I suppose you can tell by his reaction.
Marcus believes that remembering one's name and their deeds are equally important. In fact, during the events of Dark Souls 2 it is clear that the characters have forgotten the names of the gods. Straid of Olaphis believes that Izalith is the mother of pyromancy and in Dark Souls 3 people believe that Izalith and her daughters taught humans pyromancy, while the truth is that in Dark Souls 1 it is stated that Quelana is the one who created pyromancy. The Milfanito and Fenito have forgotten about Nito's name and the Fenito refers to Gwyn as "the Former King of Light". In Dark Souls 2 many sorcerers and the crow people only refer to Seath as the "Pale Being" or "Pale Creature", and Ornifex states that they don´t even know what exactly he was.
If you´re wondering why Elizabeth hadn't told the Abyss Watchers that Marcus is the Chosen Undead, it is because we never meet her during the current timeline of Dark Souls 1, so she had no idea that Marcus linked the First Flame, in fact, she has no idea from which age he came from.
Next chapter is Marcus vs the Abyss Watchers, one that I´m eager to write.