"How absurd."

Lex could hear the sneer on the deity's face even though they were separated by fog.

"Were the Princess Filianore to awaken, this bountiful Age of Fire would immediately find its end." If nothing else, Princess Gwyndolin had given up on the archaic speech: "Be it Black Queen or White Duke who has put this fool notion into your head, abandon such dreams. What did they call her when they spoke to you? The Goddess of Humanity? Did the heresiarch Queen tell you a pretty story like 'the Age of Dark is the Age of Men'?"

"No. In fact, your mother doesn't care. It's a little frightening, frankly. But she did show me the truth."

"Truth is elusive. I hardly-"

"I've seen what I am, as a human. An envious, hungry monster. A locust."

The god was finally silent for a moment.

"I see. You have taken up the name of your race's benefactor and seek to-"

"No. I've spoken with her. I have sworn to her name. If Princess Gwynevere is nowhere to be found, then my Lady Gwynllian is rightful Queen of Anor Londo. Even imprisoned; even when I denied her; she has tried to help me in this pilgrimage to save the Age of Fire. She has not hidden behind a fog wall or a fake sun!"

"F-fa-! Those are bold accusations from a-"

"Oh right! You're hiding behind decorum too! That monster of a Duke couldn't wait to speak with me in person! He waited in the center of his library, where he couldn't possibly be missed! And here's the so-called 'King of the Gods' and 'Allfather' hiding beneath the Lord's castle in a secret passage! You're literally hiding behind your father, Princess!"

Lex's voice quivered. This wasn't just joking disrespect or glibness or a minor heresy. He was shouting at a god now. He was shouting at the god now.

He clenched his wand tightly and looked at the lock of Berenike's hair on the end. He had no relic Gwynllian to cast miracles with, and he quietly hoped his former lady's tools would not suddenly stop working. He shook his head and focused on the feeling of the holy rings on his fingers.

What was the purpose of "Allfather Lloyd"? Why had the gods lied to humanity and then left them? Why would the gods let the Fire die out, when it would mean their end as well? What was the purpose of the Undead Pilgrimage?

"I shall not endure such-!" Gwyndolin hissed.

"Because you can't, coward!" Lex snapped.

The tingling heat of the blood rushing through his body mingled with his suppressed memory of burning to death. He shivered.

"Coward, you call me?" the deity said, wrath slowly building. "Coward, you declare the lone and supreme god of Anor Londo? Coward, you name the Dark Sun which is by duty shadow of Lord Gwyn? You understand nothing, pretend bishop. Indeed, no bishop may be appointed without my say, last of the gods of Anor Londo.

Rulership is a paradox, like the Dark Sun itself. Your frail race supped long on the might of Lord Gwyn and then the bounty of Queen Gwynevere. With your vile power suppressed by the Age of Fire, you should have become as we are. Instead, humans were content to rely on our power and yet think themselves the masters.

Coward, you say? My people grew weary and retired to the west. I alone have remained, and I have grown wise from my predecessors' mistakes. Your people desire a grand god above all, to save them from the burden of their decisions. Yet they cannot be truly given the blessings of a god, or else they shall invoke disaster with that power – as in Oolacile; as in New Londo.

Thus, Allfather Lloyd. I have created the effigy of an austere God of Caste and Order. The gods may be prayed to, but they will not be moved without the Allfather's consent. All things will be in their proper place, both mortal and divine. So too is Sister Gwynllian's place to slumber as the lynchpin of the Age of Fire. So too is mine own place in the shadows, to do what is necessary without tarnishing the image of the gods."

"Without tarnishing-!" Lex snorted. "That oppressive, draconian thing the Way of White has become? The truth is only 'elusive' because you've hidden it! Look at the human settlements here in Lordran and then look beyond! Your misguided rulership and suppression of knowledge has only caused us to decline!"

"Would you prefer decline or the end of all things? The power of Anor Londo is exhausted! Should the Abyss break out again, it could scarcely be suppressed!"

Lex shuddered as he remembered what he'd seen of the Abyssal Men. Yet he clenched his teeth and took a step forward.

"What of the other gods? What is in the west that would keep them safe from that? What of the Men who once served you? What of the Pygmy Lords?"

"It is not for you to know, play-bishop. Return to your pilgrimage if you truly wish to serve the gods."

"No. I'm serving the gods now."

Lex took one more step forward.

"Again, in the name of Gwynllian Rose Talia, rightful Queen of Anor Londo, reveal yourself!"

There was a rumble as the rotating bridge outside began to rise again. Lex's eyes narrowed. Was he being trapped here or were defenders of Anor Londo coming for him? Had another undead on pilgrimage reached the bridge and was merely passing through?

"I am not beholden even to true bishops," the deity said. "Speak Sister Gwynllian's name all you wish. Your words hold no power over the Dark Sun. You have blasphemed against the gods, and this is sin. Do not think the traitor queen can absolve you of this. Your judgment will be found in the twilight of Anor Londo."

"I'll say it a third time for the three Lords," Lex hissed. "Stand down."

The god was silent.

"Well, let's add to those sins, then."

Lex stepped past the rug and pressed through the soul fog. He found himself in a pointlessly long hallway with a pointlessly high arched ceiling. Tremendous columns bearing life-sized Silver Knight statues alternated with grand windows.

"Heretic!" the princess gasped. "You dare trespass on the tomb of the Great Lord?"

"You did first! You're not fit to rule, much less be worshiped!"

Something in him felt like it snapped. He'd said it. His body ran cold like water from the holy spring in midwinter.

"Mark the words of mineself, Gwyndolin!"

Lex exhaled slowly, letting it all sink in. He'd probably broken all of his original vows to the Church by now. He had abandoned his secular life to enter the Cathedral, and now he'd abandoned any hope of redemption in the Way of White. He wanted to run away from the realization, but he felt the heat of the flames as they had licked his feet.

"Let the atonement for thy felonies commenceth!"

Those peculiar golden motes Lex had grown used to seeing shimmered about the end of the hall and flowed forward like a great stream, stretching the space beyond even his holy sight. This was no illusion – or if it was an illusion, then it was "real." Lex thought back to Seath's secret form.

The god- No, the Noldo, stood a short distance away, if such a gait could be considered standing.

The princess was a monster.

She was dressed all in ivory silks and gold like a proper maiden. On her head was a great crown in the shape of that eerie eclipse symbol. The lowest ray of the sun would cross over her face and so was instead a pendant which hung about her neck like a long knife. Glittering golden tassles flowed about it, and cords of golden beads flowed about her shoulders.

There was a golden girdle about her middle. She wore long gloves and a mantle over her shoulders. A nearly invisible veil flowed from behind her crown like moonlight. Her silver hair was long but pulled back under her ears. She was pale in the manner of the gods but moreso, with a gray and sickly tint to her complexion.

Yet who wouldn't be sick if they snakes for legs?

The white-scaled serpents swayed hypnotically, as if to entrance the cleric. He felt the touch of the Duke somehow. His mind ran through what little the Church taught of dragon lore. A serpent was an imperfect dragon and symbol of gluttony. An imperfect White Dragon, then. Yet the White Dragon was already imperfect.

Princess Gwyndolin raised her golden scepter to her breast. The staff resembled her crown, save that it lacked the pointed rays. The sound of bells rang out, and concentric golden discs of a miracle stretched about her. A golden light enveloped her, and she vanished. Lex's eye caught her trail immediately, as she reappeared much further down the hall.

"You're not exactly disproving that you're a coward!" Lex yelled.

A feeling of unease passed over him as cleric and god alike waved wands instead of holy talismans. Lex finished Second Chance with plenty of time to spare as the princess flourished her scepter, shining with sorcerous energy. He ran at an angle, prepared to duck behind one of the columns when the soul arrow came.

It wasn't an arrow. It wasn't even something like Logan's legendary Soul Spear. It was a churning orb of unrefined power larger than Lex's torso. It would flow around any obstacle he hid behind like a river.

Lex panicked and tried to stop, but his momentum was too much. He tripped and fell flat just as the soul orb roared overhead. He began casting again as he stood, and the thrumming force of a Magic Barrier wrapped around him.

The princess swung her wand quickly, unleashing a hail of soul arrows which slithered through the air like snakes. Lex roared as he charged directly into them, shield raised. Though ramming straight through the blasts sent spikes of pain through his body, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

Another wave came, and he dove under it. He tucked his shield under him as he fell and slid across the polished tiles. The old iron skidded to a stop just before the princess' "feet."

"There," she said as she looked down. "Bowing was not so hard, was it?"

Before Lex could retort, a snake bit into the back of his neck. He grunted and stumbled to rise. He couldn't focus clearly enough to summon his wrasse. He grabbed at the god's robes with one hand and his lash with the other. Gritting his teeth and bearing through the poison, he looked up into the deep shadows of the Dark Sun mask.

It blinked.

"Do you truly believe you are the first Chosen Undead to find this place? That you are so special? That you are the only one to possess the eye of a dragon?"

Princess Gwyndolin daintily removed one of her long, white gloves. The skin underneath was no less pale, and her nails glistened like pearls. She held Lex's face gently as he struggled under the venom. She brushed his cheek with her thumb. He felt a cold, stony sensation. It was as if a great predator was watching him intently, and he somehow knew that a power equal to his own was being used against him.

Gwyndolin was not the last of the gods, the secret King of Anor Londo, purely by blood. She looked deeply into him. Lex tried to fight back and look into the deity's own mind, but her thumb settled over his own holy eye. Before he could do anything, the glimmering pearl was splattered with blood and clear ichor. He bit back a scream.

"That was a…" Lex gasped, "…a gift."

"From the demon Quelaag. It seems those barbarous exiles were not content to rot in the poison of their own making."

The princess released Lex, and he fell over backward. He slapped the ground, trying to rise.

"You seek my aid for Izalith, was it? How very human to go on a grand quest to help another, only to ruin it with a pointless personal vendetta. I could look beyond your actions and beyond the treacherous past of Izalith if it meant the death of the rebel Morion. How dearly do I wish to bring her to atone. Yet, I cannot."

"You really are a coward," Lex grumbled.

The feeling was coming back, though he was still quite woozy. He forced himself to his feet.

Gwyndolin scoffed: "Were the threat of his mortal enemy to pass, who could stop the Duke?"

"Really? In Anor Londo, who could kill a dragon?"

"Your ignorance shows itself."

A sneer curled the princess' lip.

"Suffice it to say that I will not aid Izalith. I shall allow the Duke send his men. With luck, more of his channelers will die, and his vision will dim still further."

"Politics as usual. Some fucking god."

"Yes. In that respect, Carim was the mortal land which learned the most from us."

Complex emotions churned in Lex, somewhere between self-loathing and victory over Astora's centuries of playing the hero. The deity rubbed her scepter against her chin thoughtfully.

"The power of Thorolund is nearly broken. Perhaps I shall renew faith in Carim. Another schism, to return Man's attention to the gods and set them against each other, lest the Abyss reform in the wake of this Undead Curse."

"You think I'll just let you? I'm undead! The bonfire's just outside! I'll keep coming until I stop you!"

"Who are you, again?"

Lex blinked.

The goddess continued: "Lexion of Carim, Deacon of the Deep."

Her voice deepened as golden motes flowed around her.

"You serve the Way of White."

The voice became ancient and graven.

"You serve me."

Allfather Lloyd stood before the cleric in all his austere majesty. A cold and merciless white halo hung behind the ancient pontiff. The Sword of Law and the Shield of Caste were simple and rough-hewn equipment of ancient stone, worn with years of long use. Instead of chain, he wore a coat of stone scale beneath his stole and cape. An ashen beard and hair like smoke drifted above the floor.

Glowing white eyes burned into the one Lex still had. He swallowed.

"I am Loitë Ilúvatar, called Lithind in the lesser tongue."

"Don't think changing your shape is enough!"

"I do not. One amusement in warring with insects is that one learns to never underestimate his enemies."

Lex focused on his missing eye. He already knew from Quelaag stealing his original eye that merely destroying the physical object wouldn't break his power. He could still see through the god's illusion if he tried.

Only, he couldn't. Had the god done something to his eye or was this like the Duke's transformation?

"You have trespassed upon the Great Lord's tomb and have committed blasphemy against the Dark Sun. You have served the enemies of Anor Londo of your own will, and you have sought forbidden knowledge of holy miracles."

Lex seized up as he realized what was happening.

"No! You hold no power over me anymore! I quit! Twice!"

The specter of the ancient god seemed carved of stone. Lloyd's jaw only barely moved as the pronouncement continued.

"By your deeds, you are already damned – a sinner of great blackness. By my authority and blessings as Allfather, God of Law and Caste – I brand you squalid, to be purified in fire."

Lex screamed and unleashed a purple shockwave, but the Allfather merely blocked it with his stone shield.

"Lastly – what was it that had been said? Ah, yes. 'You have broken your covenant with the gods and defiled this cathedral! The torch! Bring the torch, that this heretic might know the cleansing fire of the gods!'"

The entirety of the enormous hall was engulfed in flame. Some part of Lex knew that it was an illusion. Some part of Lex knew that his holy eye had been sealed to keep him from seeing through it. Some part of Lex knew that the Magic Barrier would protect him from simple fire long enough to flee. Those parts were drowned out by the screaming.

He struck at Lloyd once with his lash but quickly gave up and turned to run. With an imperious wave of his hand, Lloyd unleashed the golden motes and extended the passage in the other direction.

Lex whimpered and turned back. The opposite end was still so far away, and there was no real way of getting past the god. He turned back and forth in panic as Lloyd extended his hand.

A flameless wave of heat throbbed across the room. That was it. It wasn't the fire that killed someone burned at the stake. They suffered blistering heat and choking fumes until they passed out from the pain or suffocation. Illusion or not, Lex felt his legs turn to ash under him. Then choking oblivion.

"Lexion? Are you alright? Lexion?"

As Quelaag had said: "Revival from Flame restores mind as much as body, so that it does not fray from the shock. No death means no restoration." The slow and exhausting death by bleeding or the abrupt death by a crushed skull was not a terribly great strain once an undead had come to terms with dying. Lex had been able to smooth over what frayed edges there were to his nerves without much issue. Each death found him in the peace of Caffrey's darkened chamber, where he could rest and take his mind off the circumstances of his pain.

Now, he had fallen there quite abruptly. What was there to take his mind off of dying by flame yet again? The wavering of the dim candlelight made him shiver, and he dared not think of the burning monster which guarded the tower. He whimpered quietly.

Caffrey had been seated on her bed. She sat cross-legged, with the skull-patterned egg in her lap. Her hands were crossed atop it, and she had been staring intently before she noticed the presence of the undead. Now, she rose and tucked the egg under her arm instead of hiding it beneath the sheets as she had done in the past. Instead of on top of the table, the normal-sized Lex had awoken in the chair before it.

"Lexion, what has befallen you?" Caffrey said as she approached slowly. "If there is ought I can do, but say the word."

Lex only leaned forward in the chair and moaned, clutching his arms as if from cold. The goddess reached out to touch him but then remembered her own nameless fear. She folded her hand slowly and merely stood by him.

"Please, speak if you are able. Muinthe- My revered sister says that it helps with panic."

She took a humble-looking goblet of worn earthenware from the table and quickly went to the window. She held the cup out into the black rain and allowed it to fill. Yet when she withdrew her hand, the water was a clear mirror, and her white sleeve was dry and unstained.

"Here," she said gently. "Take a sip if you need to cool down."

Lex looked up for a moment. Abruptly, he grabbed the cup from her and poured it over his head as if to extinguish the flames. In his hands, the goblet was the size of a bowl, and unlike the goddess, his green bishop vestments were soaked. He panted and looked down at the cup.

"Shall I fetch you more?"

Lex sighed.

"No." He sniffled once before continuing, "Thank you, my lady. I'm alright now."

"Do you wish to speak of it? It may help to rationalize the experience."

The goddess sounded strangely far away. Her dragon's eyes were foggy.

"There's nothing to say," Lex said, not noticing. "I was put to death for heresy. I was guilty, even. Now, whenever there's a little fire, I get… jumpy. And now, Lloyd himself killed me in the same way. The same words. The heat of the flame, and I can't breathe."

He started choking.

"It is alright. Even the Silver Knights have suffered from a warrior's nostalgia. You are not so valiant as they… and you have no need to be. Were I free and the world at peace, I would have you serve the people as you have done in the past – as best you are able! You are clever like Mother. I am sure you could discover new ways to make the world brighter!"

Lex gave a faint smile. Even after the princess had remembered her glorious true nature, she didn't seem discouraged by her imprisonment. He forced himself to stand.

"Easy!" Caffrey said. "There is no need to rush. Time passes even here in this dream, but the Fire does not fade so quickly that you must push yourself."

The cleric groaned in the back of his throat.

"You've been far better at this than I was. I'm an unworthy servant."

"Your strengths are elsewhere!" Caffrey said sternly. "I have been taught the ways of healing by my revered sister, who is their master. I am not her equal, and you should not fear that you are not mine."

Lex sat back down in the chair.

"Well, that's one thing. But I don't know if I've got any hope against Lloyd as long as he can… well, burn me to death again. I should have survived that attack with the power of your miracle. I just… blacked out. It's an illusion, even. I know it's not real. But I feel it the same."

Caffrey rubbed her lips in thought.

"That is troublesome indeed. To say naught of your quest, I do not wish you to plunge into terror again. Was there anything particular about him that might help me identify this imposter?"

"Well, that's easy, at least. It's Princess Gwyndolin."

"Gwyndolin?!" Gwynllian squeaked. "My baby brother?"

"Brother?!" Lex yelped.

"I cannot let this pass. Were it any other, I would not be so alarmed, but I cannot allow my own sibling to be so cruel."

She went to the table again and took up a pair of old clippers from her garden box. She snipped off a lock of her long, interwoven hair, black as the soil in the box.

"Take this, that I might find you."

Lex took it gingerly. Up close, it was different from her mother's hair. It was wilder and brighter, a speckled earthy black rather than an inky darkness. Without asking, he had the new talisman he had wished.

"I am ready to return, but what do you mean, my lady? Are you going to watch over me as I fight?"

The goddess' eyes lit up with a strange glow.

"It shall be a surprise."