Chapter 25: Homeward Bound
After returning to the Royal Crypt of Alken Erik, Lucatiel and Chloanne spent only a few minutes to return to the surface and gather up the supplies they'd left behind the fog wall. A quick glance at the area showed that Nadalia's words were true; the lava was greatly receded, to the point that slaggy forms of old buildings and monuments could be spotted jutting out of the molten earth.
Once this task was complete the quartet-turned-trio descended back down and stepped up to the Primal Bonfire. Its flames seemed brighter than the one at the Lost Bastille, as if reacting to the newly obtained souls in Erik's collection.
"I'm going to miss her," Chloanne murmured to herself as she thought of Mytha. Erik nodded in agreement, feeling a touch remorseful that she had left. The queen had been a spot of joy in the dreariness of their travels, and had had many wonderful tales of Drangleic before it had fallen.
Lucatiel reached out and clapped the two sorrowful Undead on the shoulders, jolting them out of their reverie.
"Keep moping like that and you'll go Hollow," the knightess admonished. "And why are you so depressed? We'll meet her again. She promised us, did she not?"
"You're right, Luca. Thanks for that," Erik replied with a thankful smile.
"Luca?" Chloanne inquired with a raised eyebrow. Behind her mask Lucatiel blushed.
"It's just a nickname. To be honest, I'd like it if you would call me that as well," the stocky warrior woman offered the ore trader. Chloanne's response was a squeal of joy before she hugged the knightess.
"That would be lovely! Oh, it's been so long since I have had a fellow woman to have as a friend. I mean, we're already friends, aren't we? How could we not after braving dangers together?"
"Of course we're friends, Chloanne," Lucatiel assured with a laugh.
"You can call me Anne if you'd like," the young merchant stated, turning her head to glance over at Erik. "Same goes for you. I'd like it if you did the same."
"Of course!" Erik said happily. "I suppose we're all ready to head back to Majula?"
"Indeed. Let's head back." Lucatiel stepped up next to the chef, hand hovering over the Primal Bonfire.
"If we must. I'll admit, I would have liked to continue traveling with you two, but my father needs me by his side. He came all the way out here for my sake, after all," Chloanne said with a sigh. Still, a happy smile graced her lips, and she raised her palm over the flames as well.
When Erik's appendage joined the two women's, sparks flew and the fires surged forth, wrapping around the group in a blazing embrace. The Undead's visions faded to naught but swirling embers and dancing shadows, and then blinding white.
With a faint popping sound Erik wasn't sure had been there last time he'd done this, he and his companions staggered out of the bonfire at Majula, sparks cascading off of them. He and Lucatiel had done this before and found their footing faster. Chloanne almost fell on her knees from the effects but luckily the chef and knightess were there to catch her.
"You OK, Anne?" Erik asked as he turned worried eyes onto the ore trader. She nodded back before finding her balance and stood up.
"I am fine, thank you Erik. And you too Luca."
"Welcome back, welcome back! I smelled a most familiar scent and rushed over as soon as I could!" A charming and elegant voice rose up to meet the trio. They looked over to the side and saw the Emerald Herald sitting on a large boulder nearby. She looked as if she had been startled by the Undead's appearance as she had a frozen expression on her face.
However it was not her who had called out to them. Erik turned and reached down to pet the unnaturally silky fur of Shalquoir, smiling fondly as he did so.
Lucatiel's expression was unreadable from behind her mask but Chloanne's jaw had dropped open as soon as she heard the cat speak to them.
"That kitty…"
"Just spoke?" Lucatiel teased. She remembered her own reaction to the magical beast.
"Is so cute! Who's a good kitty?" The ore trader dropped to her knees and quickly started to rub and pet the bemused Watcher. The chef stepped back and relinquished petting duty to his giddy comrade.
"Oh, I like her! Mmmm, right there, behind the ear…" Shalquoir mumbled in bliss. Erik chuckled as he watched the scene. His amusement only grew as he looked up at the knightess and sensed her own befuddlement at the situation.
"It just occurred to me, but Anne is certainly accepting of the weirdness of Drangleic, isn't she?" The chef pointed out. Lucatiel only sighed in agreement. Looking back it did seem that the former peasant had been much more relaxed and collected in their journey even though they had run into headless manikins, sexy Undead sorceresses, and several Chaos tainted beings.
"Chloanne, is that you?!"
The ore trader's smile cramped a bit as she recognized the voice, but stood up and greeted her father regardless.
Bursting out of the ramshackle forge, Lenigrast rushed over to his daughter and scooped her up in a wild, crushing hug. Though the young woman seemed startled by his decayed green skin and gaping wound in his back, she none the less returned the hug.
"Father, please, you're embarrassing me," Chloanne protested after a while, her words faint from lack of air. The smith let out a gruff 'Harumph!" as he realized that there were quite a few people watching.
Melentia's cackle overlapped Shalqouir's bell-like titters as Saulden guffawed from atop his steps. Even Lucatiel and the Emerald Herald hid a few dainty chuckles.
The new arrivals of Gilligan and Magerold peered up from where they'd placed themselves at the commotion, the former on the edge of the sewage pit while the latter was near the manor. Both flinched when they saw who exactly had arrive, and quickly tried to look unassuming and not evil.
Lenigrast's green face turned a remarkable shade of hideous purple from his blush and he stomped off in a huff, muttering about 'whipper snappers' and 'no respect.'
The noise seemed to attract the attention of Carhillion who looked over to the commotion, and he broke into a grin when he spotted Erik and Lucatiel.
"Ah, you two! Returned from your journey, have you? And still with your wits! Excellent."
"Hello Carhillion," Erik said, wandering over to greet the old man. The chef had a few people he needed to speak with before he left, and the elder sage was one of them.
"I feel you have gained more strength, as well as some powerful souls," Carhillion mused. "And do I detect enchanted items?"
"Indeed. Take a look at this. Can you tell me anything about it?" Erik asked, pulling out the Iron Crown and passing it to the sorcerer. The bearded chin dropped in shock as he took it from the cook with trembling hands.
"By the gods! This… this is the Iron Crown, is it not?!" the Melfian's voice was loud and it carried over across Majula. Saulden almost stood up in his surprise and Shanalotte's face twisted into an incomprehensible expression. Shalquoir's tail froze in the air, despite being petted again by Chloanne, and Melentia was rendered speechless and for once did not laugh madly. In the distance a curious Maughlin poked his head out of his shop while two newcomers, the Laddersmith and the Treasure Hunter, stared with a glint of greed up at the hill.
"Aye, it is. We found this after slaying the demon which had murdered the Old Iron King." It wasn't a lie. Erik was hesitant about mentioning much about what he and his friends had uncovered in the royal family's crypt and later the Tower of Brume. The chef wasn't sure what Nadalia was, and if she truly was an ally. He trusted Mytha though, but was unsure if he wanted to tell anyone about her yet either.
"Let me see…yes, this is without a doubt an item of ancient powers," Carhillion mused, looking over the artifact in his hands.
"From what I can tell, there seems to be a feature that replenishes Mana over a period of time, thus allowing a person to cast more sorceries, miracles, and pyromancies. Made of some kind of reinforced Titanite based on the weight and feel, and I think there's something hidden in the gem…"
There was a 'Pop!' as the sorcerer mentioned this, and a scroll flew out of the crown's jewel and smacked the old man in the face.
"Are you alright?!" Erik cried but Carhillion waved him off.
"Just fine, it's only vellum after all. Let's see what was secreted away." Taking the scroll, he looked it over and his face broke into a smile.
"Amazing! This is a Pyromancy, but I've never heard of it before! Its name is 'Outcry,' and it seems to be a Pyromancy based off of the miracle 'Force!'" Carhillion exclaimed, eyes roving the intricate runes and spell diagrams inked onto the surface of the scroll.
"Do you mind if I study these for a bit? I can only imagine what I can learn from these!" Carhillion all but begged, forcing Erik to give in from the 'Grandpa Puppy Eyes.' That was because it was extremely unsettling seeing an old man try and pull off cute, pleading eyes.
"Of course. I want to stick around for a bit before moving on," the chef agreed, leaving the researcher to his own devices.
Erik's next stop was Saulden. He stopped before the knight and Covenant Leader of the Way of Blue and gave a small bow.
"Yes, what is it?" The chainmail clad knight inquired. Normally the crestfallen man would be annoyed at any attempts at interaction, but this young Undead had piqued his interested. Carrying the crown of one of the three Great Kings of Drangleic was not a feat normal men could pull off. Not only that, but Saulden too had defeated Ichorous Earth in the ruins of Alken and braved Brume Tower for a while before turning away in search of the rest of the souls. Yet he had not found the Iron Crown during those times. Somehow this boy had done what he himself had not. And that was worthy of respect.
"I have information I'd like to pass on to Grandmaster Targey and the Blue Sentinels. It affects you as well, so if you could accompany me that'd be great," Erik proposed.
A raised eyebrow was the chef's only response, before Saulden stood with a groan.
"It's been a while since I saw my friend. I suppose I should pay him a visit," the knight mused, following Erik to the Bonfire. The two placed their hands on the handle of the sword and were soon whisked away by the magic towards the hidden bonfire of the Twin Azure Order's base.
"Purple and White!" A voice called out as the two Undead materialized in the bonfire chamber of the Blue Cathedral. Looking over Erik saw a Blue Sentinel with a lance calling up the stairs.
"That's just code to explain who the visitors are," Saulden explained while dusting himself off. "Purple is for high ranked members of the Orders. White is for harmless guests."
"I wish to speak with Grandmaster Targey. Is there a chance for a meeting?" Erik asked, pointedly ignoring the Crestfallen Knight's comment on his strength.
"Of course, Sir Erik. The Grandmaster is busy coordinating some hunts right now, but he'll be glad to make time for you," the lancer replied, ushering the pair up the stairs.
"Something's happened." It was a statement rather than a question, but the guard answered Saulden regardless.
"Indeed. We're not sure why but for a while now the Brother of Blood has exploded with activity. The Huntsman's Copse is swarming with Red Spirits as is the Wharf and the Earthen Peaks. Some were even spotted around the Lost Bastille."
Saulden grunted in disgust at the mention of Orders' longtime enemies and followed Erik up to the war room.
Situated two floors above the chapel where the Dragonslayer stood vigil, the war room was simply a modified bedroom for a high ranked cleric, the bed long gone and replaced with a large table covered in a map of Drangleic. Tiny colored markers and symbols dotted the surface, and Targey stood over it with a frown, glaring at the red points.
The other Blue Sentinels in the room had similar looks, and were sharing information about recent movements. As Erik and Saulden entered Targey turned around, having detected their souls and gave a wane smile.
"You two are a sight for sore eyes," the Blue Sentinel Covenant leader praised, slapping the two heartily on the shoulders. The chef staggered while the Crestfallen Knight rolled his eyes at his comrade's actions.
"I apologize if we seem distracted, but the Brotherhood has become very agitated for some reason. They're tearing up the areas around the Huntsman's Copse, looking for something," Targey explained, waving the Undead over to the table. "We think that whatever it is they're after is related to Alken in some way since they're tearing up all of the kingdom's former territories in a frenzy."
"About that," Erik spoke up, "I think they might be after me."
"Why?" Targey inquired, not outright dismissing the young man's claim. He did have an insanely pure soul, and a huge collection of souls. A great prize for sure. But really something to send the entire blood hungry covenant into a tizzy?
"I encountered a trio of Red Spirits while passing through the Copse. Thankfully Gordin was summoned to my side and managed to fend them off, but it's possible they reported my existence to the rest of the covenant."
"And what makes you so special?" A Blue Sentinel probed. His tone was respectful in spite of his words. After all, the chef's food had revitalized his spirit and given him a reason to continue fighting.
"These." Erik reached into himself and pulled out two pulsating orbs of golden fire. A pair of massive souls shone onto the room, and the Undead stared.
"What I'm holding are fragments of the souls of two very ancient gods," Erik explained, showing the Old Witches Soul and the Old Sun King's Soul. "These would be great prizes for those vile hunters."
"By the Gods," Targey whispered in awe, Saulden mirroring the shock. He'd never encountered anything as potent as these before! A single one of these souls could sustain an Undead for months! And they were mere fragments!
"Plus, I think I know where the Brotherhood's base is," Erik continued, putting away the elder souls into himself.
"One surprise after the other," Saulden muttered to himself, his words part mockery and part admiration.
"Where? We have searched from the top most spires and peaks of the world to the very depths of the earth. And yet the Brotherhood eluded us. Where is there base?" Targey inquired, leaning in eagerly to the young chef.
"The coliseum near the Huntsman's Copse."
The anticipation that had been built deflated instantly with Erik's revelation.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken. We have searched that place, several times in fact. It is an obvious place for blood mad worshippers to congregate, but no matter how we scoured the ruins we could never find anything other than a handful of Hollows constantly tormented by an Undead charioteer," Targey explained.
"When Lucatiel and I ventured near it to try and pass through on our way to the Earthen Peaks, I felt something in there," Erik said slowly as he remembered the sensation from back then. "It was strong and throbbed with an energy all too similar to that of the souls I showed you earlier. The soul of a god is in there. And, if the memories of the three liches who once lived there are to be trusted, they turned it over to Nahr Alma himself."
"I too remember that memory," Saulden spoke after a terse silence digesting Erik's words. "When I saw it I rushed to investigate the coliseum, but found no evidence of a god. But then again, I did not have any souls to compare."
"Now that you mention it," another Blue Sentinel said, this one a woman armed with a bow, "I recall feeling a pressure similar to the one those two god-souls gave off a while back at the coliseum. But when I tried to get close to look into it the presence vanished."
"This warrants further investigation," Targey declared, turning to his aides. "I want you to go to the bonfire nearest to the coliseum and check if a pressure akin to the souls Erik revealed to us lingers nearby."
The Grandmaster then turned to Erik and gave a short bow. "Thank you, Erik, for coming to us with this information. Though it may be a false lead there's always a chance we missed something."
"It's my pleasure," Erik said happily returning the bow with one of his own. "I need to return to Majula now. I have more places I wish to visit."
"Certainly! And it was a pleasure to see you again as well, Saulden, if only briefly."
"The same, old friend," the Crestfallen Knight replied, shaking Targey's hand with a thin, almost invisible smile on his lips. Saulden turned to Erik with some advice.
"You will need to find a way to the Brightstone Cove. There is where the next part of your journey awaits," the knight offered, and Erik bowed in thanks. The moment was quickly interrupted by thunderous footsteps and an excited cry.
"Boy! You're still alive!" A booming voice shook the war room and Erik flinched as a heavy hand slapped his back in greeting.
"Hello again, Gordin," Erik said with a pained smile. The Forossan had the decency to flush in embarrassment at his overly enthusiastic hello.
"Glad to see you're not a gibbering wreck yet. What brings you here?"
"Young Erik Potts brought a matter to our attention that I will discuss with you soon. For now, could you escort him back to the bonfire? He has other places to be," Targey instructed, making the red headed warrior give a halfhearted salute on response.
"Sure thing, boss. Come on, boy, tell me about your adventurers!"
The two spent the next few minutes talking about what Erik had seen and done since he'd left the Blue Cathedral. The noble mercenary had been mightily impressed by what the chef had fought and survived against.
For some reason the giant Forossan just laughed uproarious when Erik told him about how he'd met Lucatiel and then given her the Giant's Ring. The chef was confused by that by shrugged it off as more of Gordin's crass nature.
By the time they reached the bonfire, Erik had finished telling the larger Blue Sentinel about the way he defeated the Lost Sinner.
"…And then the Primal Bonfire warped us back to Majula all of a sudden."
"You've had an impressive trip so far boy. I'm impressed you made it."
"To be honest, I never expected to get this far. And when we were cornered by the Red Spirits at the Copse, I was afraid Lucatiel and I were done for. Thanks for the assistance with that, by the way," Erik said giving the warrior a look of gratitude.
"No thanks needed. It was my pleasure and my duty to vanquish those scum," Gordin claimed with a savage grin.
"Still, I am grateful. And to show that, let me return something of yours…" Erik reached up to his back and removed the Chest of Holding, setting it down by the bonfire and rooting through it before removing a reddish tinted great sword.
"Is that…?" Gordin whispered, staring in shock at the blade.
"Indeed. This is your sword, correct?" Erik held out the massive weapon to the Forossan who took it with trembling hands. Lucatiel had been the one to recognize it as the famous blade of the Giant of Forossa when they'd found it in the Tower of Brume, and the knightess and chef had both decided to return it to its rightful owner as thanks for having saved them a while back.
The chef was caught off guard when the bear of a man grabbed the much smaller Undead and crushed him in a hug.
"I never thought I would see it again!" Gordin cried, squeezing the air out of Erik's lungs. "When that Red Spirit thief stole it from me I never thought I would see it again! Thank you! You're a true friend!"
Erik was released and quickly gasped in some air. Gordin gave a deep bow to the Undead chef in thanks.
"If we ever fight together again, then my sword is yours without question! I will fight for you in any manner you see fit!"
"Thank you," Erik wheezed. He packed up the magical chest once more and stepped over to the bonfire, giving a wave farewell to Gordin and the Blue Sentinel on guard duty. With a whoosh of flames, the chef vanished.
Stepping out of the sparks and embers, Erik sighed with relief when he saw the town of Majula before him. He spared a glance at the surroundings, noticing that the sun was starting to set. The few inhabitants were off doing their own things, and Erik was glad to see such a peaceful setting after the harsh trek he'd returned from. It was the perfect time to ask his questions. He walked over to his target and gave a kind smile.
"Miss Emerald Herald, I'd like to discuss with you about this whole 'Monarch' business."
The brown haired woman looked up from her seat on the boulder and grimaced, one eye constantly hidden by her bangs.
"Very well, Erik Potts. I suppose I should have expected this talk to come sooner or later."