Chapter 17: The Holy Land

"Horace!" Anri screamed. "Damn, why won't you answer? Horace!"

Anri had been wandering these caverns under the Catacombs for hours now, since discovering the entrance underneath the bridge.

When he had found it, his first thought was to go through, and see where Horace had gone. He was sure he came through here, and he could see footprints, scuffle marks, and the like. He would have surely gone in, to see if he was alright. But then he felt the chill, the piercing cold. He knew there was something dark in those Catacombs near him. He couldn't let his friend, the foreigner Pyrrha Nikos, face it alone.

He had to make sure she was safe, but no matter how much he wanted to help, no matter how much he wanted to hear more of her tales of that peaceful place she called Remnant, Horace was still out there.

So he continued, calling Horace's name through the cavern under the bridge, now a ladder. He called in the chambers, where there lay the corpse of a demon, surrounded by several disheveled bones and skulls. Anri continued throughout until he found himself here, in a smouldering lake. He continued to call his beloved friends name.

At this rate, he should have attracted the unwanted attention of no doubt hordes of enemies by now. Come to think of it, Horace couldn't really answer back even if he wanted, not in anything coherent anyway.

'Horace. How could you run, when we are so close?'

The heat didn't get to him, though it kept rising the farther he got. The earth was searing his boots and warming his greaves. He could feel the chainmail he was wearing beginning to chafe his skin through the cloth. Cool water condensed on the breathing holes on his helmet, only to evaporate in the heat.

But he soon found that it wasn't from lava of any kind like he'd expect from being so deep. He found the pillars that kept the ceiling up were coated in ember and the air distorted around them, and the structure he thought was sandstone was in fact the bodies of demons, stacked and climbing to the ceiling. The pillars radiated not the calm inviting heat of a bonfire, but a searing, relentless fire, a kind unnatural for a living being to feel.

'This place,' Anri thought as he looked around. 'If this place is what I think it is, I am definitely close, I must be!' He couldn't remember the name, no matter how hard he focused, but it was a place of hubris and folly, where a city was consumed by the fires of chaos.

Anri ran through the humid cavern, drenched in either condensation or his own sweat. He looked around quickly for any sign of Horace's passing through. He was scanning the cave when he saw something in the distance.

On the exact other side of the cave was a figure, clad in armor, which glowed a burned gold in the heat of the cavern, and wore a helmet with no features aside from two eye holes. Horace.

"Horace! Horace I'm here!" Horace didn't listen, and he saw him shamble into a cave, with a lumbering gait.

"Where are you going?" Anri said to Horace in a whisper he himself could barely hear. He ran toward him, but he stopped himself. He felt a cold chill where the Darksign was, a great danger was near. But Anri could see nothing. His gaze darted around the cavern, looking for the threat. He could hear rumbling and shaking, the pits of water quivering from the noise.

Anri turned, and stared stunned at the large thing he saw in the dirt. Wormsign.

He rolled away from where he was, just as it erupted in a shower of dirt and scalding water. Pouring from the ground like a stream of water was the long carapace of the Carthus Sandworm. It spilled out and coiled into a pile, with its head being held up.

The Worm let out a shrill cry. Anri tried to step back, but the Sandworm plunged down to where he was, knocking Anri back.

He looked around, trying to find where the Worm had gone. He felt the vibration in the ground, but not where specifically it was going. Suddenly, the pool of steaming water next to him ceased bubbling and, noticing this, he raised his shield just as the worm erupted from the pool. Anri was knocked back from the impact, but he was able to control his fall and landed on both feet and readying his sword. He rushed forward and slashed at the Worm, putting a modest cut in the carapace of the Worm. It was a fair bet that any other sword would have not made much of an impact on it, but Anri's sword was blessed by the gods of Astora, wherever they may be now.

The Sandworm shrieked in pain and tried to dive again at Anri, but he stepped out of the way as it burrowed. It emerged elsewhere and Anri ran straight toward it. The Worm looked his way before unraveling itself to strike Anri with its tail. He was sent flying back and hit against one of the pillars, which also assaulted his back with heat and fire before being knocked back to the ground. He quickly got up and charged at the worm.

He dodged more strikes from its tail and when he reached the main trunk of the Worm, he stabbed his sword into it before twisting it and slashing across its carapace, cracking it as he went. The Worm didn't make any sound. Instead, it crackled and flared with energy. Anri pulled the sword out from the electric shock, but when he looked at the worm again, he saw a ball of lightning forming in its mouth. Anri began running away, and as he did, the Worm's head snapped to his position and fired a long stream of lighting, chasing after him. Anri ducked behind one of the pillars, which the lightning discharge blew in half.

The cut he made, while certainly powerful, was but a small scratch when compared to the rest of the worm.

'This is useless, there must be a better way to kill it' he thought. He looked around, and on the ridge behind the Sandworm, near the cave Horace entered, was a ballista. This worm needed to die if he and Horace were to leave this cavern, and achieve their destiny. He started sprinting toward it, the Sandworm tunneling under the ground, erupting near where he was going. Anri ignored it and kept running, making it to the ramp. As he moved closer, he realized just how big the ballista really was, and saw the body of a giant crumpled on the ground, mutilated and with a halberd sticking out of his body. "Oh Horace..."

The Sandworm roared from below. Anri looked at the ballista. It was far too large to actually use himself. The Worm began charging for another round of electricity. Quickly, Anri climbed on top of the ballista, drawing his sword and bending his knees. The Worm released its lightning attack, utterly shattering the ballista, but as the debris flew, Anri leaped from the ballista and descended on the Worm as it continued firing its lightning, plunging his sword into the top of its head.

The Sandworm immediately recoiled in pain, sliding around the area, kicking up a torrent of ash and dirt. Anri held on to the sword as well as the Worm's carapace. He stabbed and stabbed against the Worm's cranium, continuously cracking against its shell. The Worm finally flung Anri off, but he made one final plunging attack against the creature, this time where the cuts he made before were. With a downward strike, he plunged the sword deep in its trunk, and the Worm began writhing again, this time knocking Anri back.

He was in great pain, but he could see the damage he did was done. The Carthus Sandworm twisted and roared before finally glowing bright and vanishing, the sparkles of light flowing away in the hot breeze of the cavern.

Anri panted in exhaustion and brought his Estus flask to his lips. Still tired, he went back up the ramp to the cave Horace wandered into. When he entered, however, he didn't see anything but the rock walls and a small pile of rocks at the end. He walked in puzzled, until he realized the cold in his Darksign never went away.

He was suddenly tackled to the ground by an assailant: Horace. 'He's gotten worse.' He struggled against him, but Horace kept him pinned to the ground. Anri finally managed to kick him off and stood up.

"Horace! Snap out of it!" Horace didn't listen, and without missing a beat he lunged back at him, grappling with Anri until his sheer strength overpowered him and sent him back to the ground. Horace bashed his head against Anri's before gasping his neck with both hands.

"Horace...please…not when we're so close. Hang on..." Anri gasped. Horace growled and breathed in feral rage and fury, his eyes glowing red through his helmet. Anri's hands shook and his vision faltered, but only from the weight of what he had to do. He took his hands off the hands crushing his throat and drew his sword.

Horace stumbled back, with Anri's straight sword impaled through his chest. It was painful to be sure, a holy object coming into contact with an unholy being such as an Undead. But Horace was slow, almost tranquil, before finally collapsing to his knees and crawling away from Anri.

"You...had kept me safe for so long, were it not for you, we would both be nothing more than food, forgotten just as easily when eaten" Anri said, as Horace breathed in muted pain. "You deserved better than this." Horace slowed down, shivering where he was. "There's a place, Horace," he began saying, "a place where things like this don't happen. Where kingdoms rise and keep their people safe, where the horrors of the world are kept at bay, where the dead….are remembered. I know it exists, she told me so, Horace. I hoped...I hope, we can see it one day, when all of this was done..."

Horace didn't move. The red glow from his eyes was gone.

It took all the strength in the world to move closer and pull the sword out from his chest. "Goodbye, my kind friend. I only wish I could have done more."

Pyrrha walked through the passageway that was made when Wolnir's throne vanished. She mostly wandered aimlessly, trying to find the end of the tunnel, and she knew it lead somewhere.

Just then, she noticed a small sliver of light, far up ahead of her. Was that the end? She began jogging toward it, and she could feel a slight chill, but only from the cold wind blowing her way. When she reached the light, she saw where it was coming from: a hole shining silver light, at the top of a wet, rocky, twenty-foot ledge.

Pyrrha blinked and then sighed in dejection, fog billowing from her mouth as she did.

She sunk her blade into the rock-face, pulling herself up while using her free right hand to grab the next rock. The wall wasn't simply wet, it was cold and almost frozen over, her hands were burning from the intense cold, and she occasionally had to shake them to keep them from being numb.

"Just once," she grumbled, "I'd like to go to a place, and have it be a pleasant journey. Not a swamp, but a nice forest or a garden." She said, half-way up the wall, growing more strained in her movement and her tone of voice. "Or, an inviting village with sweet bread, instead of being full of murderous zealots!" Dust fell from the top of the cave, and Pyrrha almost slipped her hand, briefly dangling from the sword before regaining a handle on the wall. She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. "To be warm….and where I belong." She didn't say not dead or back home. She may have felt it or wanted it, but she herself didn't make it clear, especially in her occupied thoughts. "Or someplace nice at least, mix things up a little…" she muttered to herself.

She continued climbing until she finally reached the top and scrambled up, panting and focusing on resting her muscles. She walked out, facing a sharp, cold wind blowing her in the face. Stumbling forward, she nearly stepped off the edge, but when she looked forward, her breath was taken away.

Just up ahead was a small city with several spires, turrets, parapets, and abodes, all overseen by a tall cathedral. The city was bathed in a silvery-blue glow, an ethereal aurora in the backdrop, shimmering in the light of a perfect crescent moon.

Pyrrha breathed an awed gasp and blinked, staring agape at the sight. "I...suppose this will do." The cold, the physical one at least, then got to her and she started moving, shuffling down the ridge. She walked through the stone gatehouse that stood before the bridge. Completely empty of all but snow, the bridge extended outward to the still shimmering, boreal city. She stepped forward in complete awe.

A chattering, almost whisper-like rasp swirled behind her, however. She stopped dead in her tracks and spun around with sword and shield in hand. However, she quickly realized she had grossly underestimated the size of the threat manifesting behind her. The threat, a giant beast still partially manifesting itself, had the appearance of a colossal, monstrous rat, but with the poise of a wolf. Its fur was wild and mangy, its long snout had long and sharp teeth lining its jaws. It had 3 eyes on each side, all leaking a red glow, and its rib cage was exposed, and seemed more like a second mouth than anything to protect its organs.

The Beast became perfectly opaque and stared at Pyrrha, who was beginning to step back from the creature. Finally it roared, vibrating through the cold air and sending errant sparks from its mouth. Pyrrha froze in place from the impact of the fierce roar, but she soon began running. The Beast pursued her, its front legs bent like human arms. It growled and panted as it chased after Pyrrha, who's heart was beating in fear. She grew closer and closer to the end of the bridge, but she just now noticed the source of the shimmering around the city: it was surrounded by a misty blue field.

Pyrrha saw this but couldn't afford slowing down with The Beast closing the distance. The Beast grew tired of simply chasing her and pounced. Pyrrha desperately dove through the field, and began passing through with ease. The Beast's maw opened and had Pyrrha's legs in biting distance, but before it could shut its jaws closed, it collided with the barrier, crumpling against it from the force of the impact. Pyrrha landed face first in a snowbank and looked behind her. The Beast writhed in pain briefly before staring out at her from behind the field before finally vanishing into the air.

She breathed a sigh of relief at having evaded The Beast, looking out at the now empty bridge. Even in a place as beautiful as this, there were terrors waiting in every corner. Pyrrha stood up in the courtyard of the suddenly darkened city. Near a cold, water-less fountain adorned with engravings and statues, was a sword sticking out into a pile of ash.

"Irithyll? My, going up in the world are we now?" Greirat said, handing Pyrrha the ragged cloak she had asked for.

"So you know of the place?" She put the cloak over her armor and wrapped several pieces of cloth over her hands to create makeshift gloves.

"Of course. It's an old, lost city. The Boreal Valley of Irithyll. Legend has it there's a bunch of old, moon-worshiping nobles holed up in the city."

"Well, it is beautiful moon."

"Full of scum it is." Pyrrha turned to Greirat in confusion. "It was said some nobles would take time out of their day to run the dungeons down below. Everyone has to have a hobby I suppose."

"The dungeons?"

"Be sure you know how to die, or you'll be stuck in it for the rest of your miserable life, however long that lasts."

Pyrrha looked down at her hands. She remembered Anri's words, the ones that filled her with so much hope just a few hours ago, the ones that helped her keep going, and how she fared on the top of Beacon tower. She came to one conclusion. "You know, now that you mention it...I guess I really don't know how to die."

Greirat was silent, the conversation having staled like dried bread. Finally he had the courage to break the silence. "Legend also said the place was packed with treasure. I could go out for another run if you'd like. What do you say?"

"W-what? You just said-"

"Ah don't worry, I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Besides, I'm not worried about the dungeons."

"Really?"

"Being threatened with being moved there every day tends to desensitize you after a few years."

Greirat gave a chuckle while Pyrrha followed his lead, albeit a bit more nervous.

Pyrrha knelt down and touched Irina's hand, who recoiled slightly, but not with enough force to escape Pyrrha's gentle grasp.

"Oh, p-Pyrrha, I didn't realize it was you."

"I'm sorry" she said, on reflex almost.

"It's just, everything's been so...cold recently."

"Heh, might be me actually. My hands are probably going to freeze for awhile."

"N-no, it...it's a most peculiar chill, it nibbles at me, all from the darkness." Pyrrha froze, her hand gently squeezing Irina's. "It relieves me to feel you here. But I know you can't always be here."

Pyrrha paused, staring at Irina's sullen face. "No, it seems I can't."

The two didn't speak for fifteen minutes after Pyrrha sat down. Yuria continued staring at the wall, not moving. Pyrrha kept her eyes trained on Yuria even as she walked to sit down and hadn't taken them off.

"...Are you in need of something Ms. Nikos?"

"What were you discussing with Irina again? I seem to have forgotten…"

"...I was simply discussing ways we could both help you."

"Now I remember. She seems...ill, is all."

"Does she?"

"Would you know of anything that would cause that? Something in your possession?"

"Perhaps. People outside of Londor are so sensitive to change. All I did was leave her with some miracles to assist you. She refused to look at them."

Pyrrha stared at her, not sure how to sort through her words, how much she could take at face value.

"You do not trust me, do you Ms. Nikos?"

"...Not really."

"Fascinating."

"Hmm?"

"That someone who wears a mask, does not trust a mask wearer."

Pyrrha looked at the hand that wore the ring, the ring that continued to fool everyone, most of all herself, that she was still...human. That she wasn't dead and rotting.

"Which brings me to a question." Pyrrha looked up at what Yuria had to say. "Knowest a man known as Knight Anri of Astora?"

Pyrrha blinked. "Yes? We met along the Road of Sacrifices."

"Excellent. You are acquainted with him. He has progressed far in his journey and is reaching his destination, close to you."

"...Indeed... " Pyrrha said, leery of where Yuria was going with this.

"He will make an excellent groom when the time comes."

"I-eh-w-what?" Pyrrha was completely thrown for a loop with this, her train of thought derailed so utterly as to be frazzled. "G-groom!?"

"Something the matter?"

"I...I don't understand. I mean, Anri is a friend-he's a friend, but I never really...I mean, I don't know how old he'd be at this point…!" Pyrrha was awash with red embarrassment and looking all across the alcove.

"If you are to achieve your destiny as our savior, as our leader, you will need a consort. That is where the noble Anri will play his role."

"I don't know if I could...it's just so...it's something I never really imagined, ever, really." Pyrrha's face was flush and her breathing trembled slightly.

"There is no need to dwell on this, Ms. Nikos. After all, you still have work to do."

"Yeah…" Pyrrha looked to Yuria again, but Yuria had left without a trace. She was alone with her thoughts. The whole idea seemed ridiculous and even manipulative to some extent. The only person she ever had feelings for, the person who treated her like a normal person, not someone they admired or put on a pedestal, was Jaune. The sweet boy who needed her help and who helped her when she needed it.

Anri was like that too.

She looked to the mouth of the alcove. "Strange. It doesn't sound so weird."

Rising from the comfortable warm bonfire, Pyrrha shuffled onward into the cold city. While it looked beauteous and elegant from afar, Irithyll was oppressive up close. The dark, icy stone absorbed the light around them. She walked up the sullen roads, caked in frost, past houses that had no life in them.

And nothing greeted her. This alone made her nervous. Suddenly a pair of spectral figures, a male and a female she thought, emerged walking toward her. She drew her sword, but they kept walking, and she couldn't feel any intent of harm toward her. They walked and passed right through her, like they were just fog illuminated by a laser.

Up ahead was a large courtyard overlooking a chasm and leading to the rest of the city. In the middle was a large fountain surrounded by a garden and with trees on the sides. She walked slowly forward, leery once more at the emptiness of Irithyll.

Suddenly a figure emerged from behind the fountain. A decrepit, scraggly and dried corpse in rags holding a longsword. It took one look at Pyrrha before returning to its place behind the fountain. Suddenly she heard something.

Behind her and to the right of her was clatterings of metal. It came from several slender, ethereal looking figures in silver armor and draped in thin linen capes, each wearing gold crowns that held their masks. They carried long, curved swords and a few had shields.

Pyrrha tried to run to the staircase leading to the rest of the settlement, but an eruption of fire blocked her path. A tall figure in robes and a mask wielding a strange spiked staff lowered its weapon. She backpedaled to the center of the courtyard, surrounded on all sides.

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed throughout the valley.

"So. Who do I now speak to? Anri of Astora? Horace the Hushed? Or someone else? Tell me, who comes to my doorstep?"

Pyrrha stood up. "I do. I am Pyrrha Nikos of Mistral."

"A newcomer. From parts unknown? Fascinating. You address the Pontiff. Do you know who I am?"

Pyrrha's blood boiled furiously as she stared at where she imagined the sound coming from. "Yes."

"They've told you of me haven't they? Good. What has become of my precious children? I must know."

"I don't…" Pyrrha said, gritting her teeth.

"You sound so hostile. What brings you here, Knight Pyrrha of Mistral?"

"I have come to kill you, I suppose."

"Such an undertaking. What compelled you to take such a drastic action?"

"I've seen the devastation your men have caused, all the people you've killed or hurt! I want to help them be rid of you, and end Aldrich's tyranny."

"...My my. And you were so honest before. It's not polite to lie to your minister."

"I...beg your pardon?"

"A stranger like you doesn't appear in a place like Lothric to simply help its people. If you did, you would still be with Anri and Horace, wherever they are. You are not after me or Aldrich, not specifically him anyhow. You are searching for the Lords of Cinder. You are looking for a way to justify your existence in this world, or even escape it…In reality, you aren't any better than a hollow, digging at scraps of cloth they recognize. Sorry to disappoint you."

The knights began to march toward Pyrrha and she tried to get as many in her line of sight as possible. The tall fire witch marched forward too. She braced for their charge, but at that moment, a hiss of a sinking blade rang out, and one of the knights was thrown to the center. The circle unfolded to reveal Anri of Astora.

"Anri!?"

"Kill them!"

The knights all readied their weapons and charged at the two. The knights were fierce and unrelenting, and whenever Pyrrha tried to block their attacks, they just continued striking until she gave out. Pyrrha ducked beneath a sweeping attack but the knight followed through with a spectral scythe that blasted her back into the fountain.

Anri was busy holding off the knights on his side, but on seeing Pyrrha get knocked into the fountain, he retrieved from his pouch a firebomb, which he threw behind him. It landed in the middle of the knights Pyrrha was fighting, managing to knock them off balance. The one closest to Pyrrha landed at her feet, which she quickly capitalized on.

The masked witch raised her staff, conjuring a glowing, orange circle at Pyrrha's feet. The sensation, and the previous encounter when she stopped her from leaving, reminded her of Cinder's attacks during their fight on Beacon tower. Without even thinking, she rolled out of the way, just as a pillar of light consumed the ground beneath her.

The witch raised her staff again, but Pyrrha took aim and summoned a lightning spear, tossing it at the witch's head. A direct hit, the witch staggered and shook, and a plume of fire erupted from the staff, hitting several of the knights she was fighting and engulfing them in flames.

Anri, however, was not as fortunate in his fights, being constantly overwhelmed by the knight's barrages. Eventually, a knight hanging back from the fight raised its hand to its head, summoning a bubbling swirl of shadow before throwing it Anri, which hit him in the side as he was blocking another. He landed on his back and the knight he fought stood over him.

Anri didn't resist.

At that moment, as it raised its sword to end him, a horizontal spurt of blood burst from the knight and when it fell, Pyrrha Nikos was standing behind it.

The knight that had struck Anri tried to launch an attack on Pyrrha, but she turned around and stopped it with her shield.

The witch raised her staff once more, but suddenly it shuddered and eventually collapsed after several spasms and spurts of blood. Pyrrha looked at this puzzled, still trying to hold off the knight's bombardment. Near the witch's corpse, she could see small pinpricks of light hovering and moving. Two of them locked in with Pyrrha's eyes before they 'scampered' off.

Either way, their biggest obstacle was down. "Come on!" Anri rose to his feet and the two began running. The rest of the knights tried to chase after them as they escaped into the rest of the city.

The knights chased in the direction they went, some breaking off to look in any houses they might have entered. The search drove them to one of the churches, and they began scouring the area for any sign of them. Eventually, however, they broke off pursuit and walked back down, and started patrolling.

Unbeknownst to them, near the same steps they used to reach the church, Anri and Pyrrha hid until they had left their sight before entering the church themselves.

"Lost them" Anri said. They both looked around. The church was somewhat large and had several small pillars supporting the building, many chipped, with a bonfire in the middle of the room. It was made of the same cold stone as the rest of the city and had an altar at the end, with a high relief of a woman with scales on her forehead and a scythe.

"Who is that?" Pyrrha asked.

"I don't know. Perhaps it was one of the gods, but I don't recall this one exactly."

"Did-" a silence erupted from her mouth. She just realized she was in a church with the person Yuria said she'd marry while staring at an altar.

"Something wrong Pyrrha?"

"I- just...nothing. I just remembered something stupid someone said to me…" she blushed, cheeks stinging in the cold air. She then remembered what she was going to say. "Anri, did you ever find Horace."

Anri didn't move a muscle. "No. I never managed to find Horace."

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It's alright Pyrrha, really. I had hoped to find him in time, to repay him for the lengths he went to save me but...I have to keep going, I have to find Aldrich and his lackeys."

"For the children you knew….oh I'm sorry, I just….I remembered what you said back in the Cathedral."

Anri turned to Pyrrha and sunk his head. "Yes. I suppose that involves Horace too now." He was silent for a long while. "I still have a duty, I am still an unkindled Lordseeker. I will to do the duty alone if I have to. We all have our reasons don't we?"

The words that came from the Pontiff rang in her ear, about her reasons for seeking the Lords. She wanted to go home, but she still had no idea why the Lords of Cinder were involved.

Before Pyrrha could finish her thoughts, Anri took Pyrrha's hand and placed an object in her palm. "Please, take this as recompense for my foolish request, and to provide you with some protection."

Pyrrha looked at the object in her hand. A ring. It was black, almost made of obsidian and with a gem that had a swirling yellow cloud interrupted by a white line through the middle, giving it the appearance of a creature's eye.

Pyrrha blinked repeatedly at the bizarreness of her increasingly marital situation, but when she raised her head, she saw Anri facing the altar, not paying attention to her.

He sighed as he leaned against the altar. He seemed so exhausted, almost defeated. "Pyrrha, if I don't succeed, if my journey was for nothing, would that be awful?"

"...What do you mean?"

"If it comes to pass that the task is too much for me, that I fall to Aldrich or to the Pontiff, what occurs then? Will it all matter to anyone but me? If I do defeat him, will this solve anything? Will my deaths mean anything?"

Pyrrha raised a hand to her mouth as she stared forlornly at him.

"You are indeed brave, to face your duty alone. I would do well to learn from you...do you wond-"

His words were cut off when her hand spun Anri around and she embraced him in a deep hug. Her arms wrapped around his back and she buried her face in the collar of the surcoat. Anri was stunned at first before stiffly maneuvering his arms to do the same for her. He began to shiver and she heard the breathing behind his helmet shake.

After a long while, they separated. "I...well...thank you." Anri finally managed.

Pyrrha nodded while wiping away a wet streak from face, smiling all the while. "I have to attend some things, but I will help you. I will stay and help you fight them, fight all of them if I have to."

"I will wait for you at the top of that cathedral. That is where the Pontiff is. And I don't think either of us should face him alone."

"I'll see you there I guess."

"May the flames guide your way, Pyrrha Nikos."

She slowly parted from Anri and slowly made her way to the bonfire as Anri turned around. Her footsteps echoed throughout the church as she walked away. After a short while, footsteps made their way to Anri again.

"Did you need something el-"

A flash of light was the last thing he saw.

Author's Notes: I'm back! Kinda. I didn't want to leave you without a Christmas present after all, so I packed together this story of death, loss, trial, and misery just for you. Tis the season everyone!

But I will say, the next chapter, while it will no doubt be a bit shorter, is one I wanted to do for awhile now, and honestly this is the time to do it. It might come after Christmas, but maybe a little before New Years, we'll see. But it will be awesome, and you'll see why when it comes.

Happy Holidays and be sure to leave a review or PM me if you have any questions or comments!