A Song of Fate and Misfortune

by Sasha-Gahere

After cheating his own destiny, the Chosen Unkindled finds himself in a strange land where he hopes to find the purpose he needs to stave his hollowing, or perhaps, come to terms with the decisions he has made.

21. Chapter XX

Chapter XX:

Old Faces

The conversation was broken up by a sharp cough coming from upstairs. The Unkindled watched Robin's gaze turn to the shanty stairs in the corner of the crumbling room. They listened to the footsteps that creaked on each step until two beings rounded the last step. The candle on the table danced in the air as two men, the youth from before and an old man barely hanging onto life, came into view. The old man's right arm was in a sling, and on his face was an eye patch that wrapped around his bald head.

When they finally reached the bottom, the old man shuffled closer on his own and took a shaky seat at the table. Like the youth holding him before, he had a purple eye buried amidst a weathered, tired face.

"Tea, Tristen" he demanded in a hoarse voice.

Ansem watched as the boy nodded his head and moved over to the ash filled stove. The boy withdrew a striker kit and threw a log into the kiln. He then set to starting a fire. As the boy struggled, the Ashen One bent down, and using his fiery resin, ignited the log in a flash. Within a flash, his face lit up in the glow and quickly, any surprise was tucked away quickly in front of the guest.

"Thanks" Tristen responded in a whisper as he moved towards a pair of crooked cupboards and withdrew some mugs.

The old man leaned forward, his chair creaking loudly, and pointed his left hand at Owain.

"You" he ordered, "keep watch at the door. You let us know if anyone starts heading towards the house" he said in a demanding, but calm voice.

Owain looked at Robin, who responded with a nod at the swordsmen. Reluctantly, Owain stood up and made his way to the window near the door they had entered in minutes before.

The Unkindled watched the old man's eye. The eye was shaky, gaunt, and behind their veil was a familiar apathy that gripped the man's soul.

What was he afraid of?

"M-my apologies..." the elder grumbled under his breath, "we had an incident last night and we are expecting... some retaliation".

"Is there a safer place we could talk?" Robin responded.

The old man shook his head.

"No, unfortunately not. Not even safe in my own home. Nowhere is considered safe anymore..." he whispered grimly.

Robin sat down over at the table next to Lucina and took out her notebook.

"Then let us try to be brief. Start with names, the last recorded elder was an Elder Watts: 50 years of age, blonde hair, green eyes and fair skin, I take it you're not him?" she said in an unconvincing tone.

The old man gave a chuckle.

"Feels forever-ago since Elder Watts was alive. No, my name... is Beroc, lead miner for over 35 dig sites and until recently- pulled out of retirement to lead this sad settlement in the death of my son, Teegan. Teegan was acting elder in the wake of Watt's... let us say, sudden and inexplicable disappearance in the upper town".

"I'm... sorry for your loss" Robin said in a soft voice.

The old man waved his hand dismissively.

"Aye, Watts was an alright man, but he never spent a day in his life in a mine shaft. Believed himself to be of higher metal but alas he never mistreated us an-".

Robin shook her head, a pronounced frown on her face.

"I meant... for your son" she said softly.

He paused for a slim second, his face struck with pain. His voice fell an octave to a toothy whisper.

"He lived the best life any of us miners could. But the time to mourn passed long ago, now have bigger problems to deal with".

"About that" she Robin continued; "There is a clear discrepancy in our intelligence. This is all we have to go on, so you'll have to fill us in on the rest".

She pulled out a brass scroll that Ansem recognized as a typical scroll used by Ravens in this land.

"Gerome" she began; "one of our field agents forwarded us this crow's message a few weeks ago. At first it seemed like propaganda from Torvus, but our agent noticed that some of the wording was peculiar and, lo and behold, noticed that there a pattern of speech that he could use as a cipher. It seemed benign at first, but with the events of the arena, we felt we couldn't ignore it any longer" Robin said.

She unrolled the tiny scroll and passed it to the old man who nodded his head absentmindedly. It was almost like he was under a spell.

"Aye, that's the one. This is the last message I ever wrote with this hand" he said as he lifted up his sling.

Out of the top Ansem saw a grotesque sight. Where his hand should have been was a cauterized mess. It was blue, black, and crimson- where the skin healed was jagged and discolored. Clumps of skin had grown around the colors, giving it a hideous appearance. Robin didn't even wince at the sight of it, but only began taking notes in her notebook. Lucina took the scroll and gave it a quick glance before rolling it up and tossing it to the Unkindled. She must've seen the letter before.

He unrolled the scroll and read the messy handwriting as best as he could. It had a generic message, talking about how the neighboring towns should support Torvus' claim. The whole message seemed like propaganda required by the khan to be spread- almost laughably so. But transposed over the letter were scribbled notes and markings. At the bottom of the letter read the deciphered message.

The Lady in Black is here.

Find Dain at the outskirts.

Please, help us.

"Start from the beginning" Robin inquired, her hand ready to scribble down notes.

---

Lucina watched as the old man coughed a toothy cough. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and began to talk.

"Torvus... Torvus was a damn fool who happened to land in the lap of luxury. He would only bother one of his towns unless they were not producing. But our mines were plentiful, and we had been excavating profitable iron and copper since long before my time. But on his scheduled yearly inspection, he was accompanied by that... woman".

The old man let out another throaty cough before continuing. Lucina felt uneasy watching the man, worried that the next might be his last.

"She was like a shadow to that man, wherever he was, there she was at his coat tails. She was always whispering into his ear; it was like he was bewitched by whatever silver lies she spun. But besides her being there, they came and left after looking at the mines- nothing was out of the ordinary. But a week later they came back, this time with a troop of... men wearing armour I had never seen in my life".

"Could you describe anything about them in particular? Any recognizable sigil?" Robin said as she jotted notes into the notebook.

Steam began to pour into the air and Ansem traced the steam to where the youth from before was standing. Tristen lifted up the kettle and poured the boiling water into the mugs now filled with tea leaves. The boy then picked up a tiny tin tray that he had pulled out of one of the cupboards and placed the cups on it, steadily moving over to the table.

"I'll admit, I haven't done much traveling in my life, I haven't even left Regna Ferox- but I could tell... they aren't from this world" he said in a low growl.

"Their armour looked like dried human skeletons were molded around their bodies and their masks were grinning skulls with crumbling teeth. The stuff of nightmares-"

"That sounds like Risen to me. Perchance... Yuria found a way to summon them?" Lucina interjected.

The old man quickly shook his head.

"Some of our men in our village fought alongside you Ylissean's in Plegia after Flavia became the Khan. They said these creatures were nothing like the ones summoned in Plegia. They did not speak to anyone, and if someone was in their path as they walked, they would bump right into them. It... It was like there wasn't a person under there, just a shadow. When Torvus returned with these knights, they went straight into the upper parts of town and claimed there was some sort of plague among the upper class, and just like that, Torvus told us that the current elder is among the sick and that he would be dictating new terms for the town".

"I take it you didn't take too kindly to the change in management" Robin said as Tristen placed a mug in front of her.

"Something was clearly amiss, but the miners and workers had a schedule to keep. That afternoon, one of the miner runners ran into the upper district to give a report and... they were was cut down by Yuria's knights. Fighting broke out but by the end of the day, nearly every home or building in the upper town was boarded up and the rest were corralled into the lower part of town where we stand now."

"You didn't run away?" Robin asked.

"While Yuria's monsters were decimating the upper class, Torvus' own men burned the stables with the horses inside. They even torched the post office to kill all the ravens in the city. The nearest town, as I'm sure you know, is a weeks ride, and even in the summer months that trip is too deadly to make on foot." Beroc said.

The old man took a deep breath. The youth handed Lucina one of the mugs and she graciously accepted. The cold in the air had been ebbing through her clothes with each passing minute. It felt warm in her hands, but when she peered into the mug the liquid was a nasty brown. The smell gave off a bitter aroma. As she was examining the tea, she saw the boy offer Ansem and mug and he declined it with a dismissive wave.

"After the commotion, a mist fell onto the main buildings and the soldiers vanished into it, leaving us stranded, desolate in the ruins of our home... The fog is some kind of barrier that separates the town... all hope would have been lost if it weren't for Tristen's friend".

Just as he finished a loud chirp echoed from one of the crooked cupboards. Tristen scowled and ran towards it and opened it up. Out flew a red winged bird no bigger than the size of Robin's notebook. Ansem jumped in suspense, his hand reached for his sword while Lucina watched in amazement as the bird flew in circles over the table chirping loudly. Neither Robin nor the old man reacted to the bird as it continued to fly around.

"Dammit" Tristen said in a defeated tone as he looked into the cupboard the bird flew out of.

Ansem approached behind him and Lucina watched as he stuck his hands into the darkness. He pulled his hands out and cradled in the palm of his hands was a little gathering of twigs, bark and tin. In the center of the gathering were 3 tiny eggs.

"Ever since we officially closed the mines, we've had a bit of a canary problem" the old man chortled "not enough of them dying I'm afraid, and they can make a nest just about anywhere".

"What are miners doing with a bunch of canaries? Especially out here in the middle of nowhere?" Lucina asked as she watched Ansem place the nest into the tin bathtub.

"They are more sensitive to deadly toxins in the air. Miners carry them in small cages so that if they start to get distressed they know to evacuate" Robin said as the canary flew over to the tub and settled onto the eggs, stress-fully eyeing everyone in the room.

"Ay I'm surprised you knew that my lady. Anyways, Tristen's friend oversaw nursing the canaries and at the time, she was taking care of a sick crow. And on that last crow, I wrote that message and sent it off in the night." Beroc exclaimed with a newfound respect for the silver haired tactician.

The old man took a sip of his tea before continuing with his story.

"But I am getting ahead of myself. The night the mist fell my son took charge of the town. It was his idea to send the crow to the nearest town as soon as it was nursed, and in the meantime, he tried to rally support among the rabble. Even though there wasn't much food, we lived off the caves just like our ancestors had before. Mushrooms, moss and whatever we could find in the caves and forage from the town... But then the "speaker" came out of the mist." he said with a cold demeanor.

Lucina peered once more into the tea. Her stomach churned at the thought of drinking it now. She glanced over at Robin, who hadn't even touched hers yet.

"A representative for Torvus?" Robin inquired.

"Nay, for the Lady in Black. You see, to get to the upper district you would need to pass through the lower town square. It was the only way... and it was here she first appeared, protected by two of those monstrous warriors... and began to proclaim the "good word". She would sing in the square for an hour and then return to the fog."

He paused, nodding to himself as if he was agreeing with his own recollection.

"Sing?" Lucina asked, raising an eyebrow.

The old man's mouth was agape at the disbelief and he began to stutter.

"I-I know it sounds strange but it's true" he rattled on, "She would sing the same chorus relentlessly- the same song over and over and over and then leaves. It was some curse- a spell- I don't know but whatever it was it..."

He seemed to lose focus on Lucina. His eye stared into empty space and the hairs on Lucina's next stood up. She dared not to look away from his purple eyes now.

"It had an effect on us. She was poisoning us with those honeyed words... slowly, we didn't trust one another we began to see visions of monstrosities in our sleep and in the shadows and-".

"Grandpa, slow down" Tristen said calmly.

Beroc looked at his grandson and nodded sheepishly. In simply recalling the woman, Lucina could feel the terror in the man's shaky voice. He went to grab his tea cup and immediately his shaken grip knocked the mug off its base and tea flowed onto the table.

Lucina's legs moved without her thinking. Her feet kicked off the ground, pushing the chair back just in time to avoid the foul coloured waterfall descend from the table onto the ground.

Robin let out a light cry and lifted her book as she moved away from the table.

"Shit!" Beroc exclaimed.

The old man blushed as he looked towards the ground. Tristen grabbed a ragged cloth and ran to clean up the mess.

"I'm so sorr-" Tristen began monotonously but Robin interrupted him.

"It's fine! We're fine, really" she remarked in a hospitable tone.

She gathered herself from the table and let the boy clean up the mess. She gave Lucina a quick laughing glance before regaining her composure. Within moments, the small commotion was resolved and the three returned to their conversation as the boy removed himself from the room to wring the cloth of the dark tea. He took walked passed Owain and was out into the cold air.

"Right" Robin commenced, "So, she was bewitching the masses with her song. Besides those strange side effects, what else did she do?"

"She... she said something the very first day... that every night the chosen would join Flavia into Yuria's company... I know how that sounds but... w-we didn't know that she had been missing for some time so we honestly thought it was propaganda. The next night, before she came out to sing, the first of the chosen came into the town square bewitched by whatever curse she placed on the town. They would... prostrate themselves... to the fog wall and the moment the sun set, she would come out and place a medallion around their neck. Sometimes it was one person, two, one week it was seven of Tristen's classmates. They would walk with her, hand in hand and enter the fog and they... they would never come back. Whatever is on the other side of that fog wall keeps them..."

Lucina held back a grimace. This was the only lead they had on Flavia and it was entirely possible this "speaker" person was lying. Was coming here a waste of time?

"No one did anything? No one fought back?" Robin inquired.

Beroc looked down as once again, emotions began to seep through his eye. He glanced at the door where the boy had just left before continuing.

"Teegan did... Emilia, his wife was one of those chosen who... one day... went right to the town square. According to Tristen, she was dusting their home... trying to make things feel normal for the family... when she suddenly put down everything, and without a word, left their house. When she got to the town square, she prostrated herself... waited from dawn till dusk, just as soon as the sun set, ignoring the pleads of Teegan and Tristen to come home. It... it was like she couldn't hear them...".

The old man let out a low groan, tears flowed down his eye.

"As soon as she came through the wall of fog, Teegan was upon her with his pickax".

Lucina stole a glance at Robin. That look she had from before was back, the look of anguish she had when the Elder mentioned Teegan. Lucina looked down between her legs and her heart began to beat faster. She slowly reached up and pressed her hand above her breast, feeling its beat.

The moment was fleeting but it cut deep.

She pushed her feeling down again, returning to focus.

"Even though he was a veteran of war, he didn't stand a chance against those warriors. Some of the onlookers joined in to help but those monsters were unflinching. It... it was a slaughter... They slaughtered my boy in the streets where he used to play and left his broken body on the ground. The speaker continued with her song and when she was done, Emilia and she vanished into the fog and the next day the speaker took another. No one stepped in to stop the ceremony this time".

As he finished Tristen returned, indifferent as he had not heard the recollection of his father's death. He shuffled to where over to Ansem and stood near him. He made eye contact with Lucina and his eyes darted away.

"Some people left to try to make it on foot to the next town. They knew it was suicide, but they had to try- better to die with hope than to live here in despair...People began to look up to me and I did my best. We began to dig underneath to the upper parts that ran underground, but as we broke into a basement of one of the houses we would be met with the same walls of fog as on the surface. A few months later, the crow was healthy and we sent the message- but one of our confidants was bewitched by the speaker and the next day I was dragged out of this house at noon by one of those monsters and made an example of... we have since been waiting anxiously for news or help ever since."

Beroc looked over at Tristen who nodded his head.

"That is... since yesterday. Something happened in the town square with my grandson" Beroc said, a hint of worry in his voice.

Tristen stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"I-I killed the speaker" he said uncomfortably.

No response. Lucina was taken aback- all this talk about the lady and she was already dead. The boy continued.

"and we have no idea what is going to happen tonight. We are expecting the worst".

"Wow..." Robin commented with an air of anticlimax, "okay so we don't have to worry about the singing then?" Robin said as she calmly wrote in her notebook.

"Well" Tristen began, a faint redness fell over his face... "There's more to it".

---

~The day before~

Tristen opened his eyes to nothing but darkness. He could hear drops of water that echoed around but there wasn't a single ray of light anywhere.

Was this all a dream?

He blinked a few more times, reassuring himself that he was really awake and then within a cold breath all the emotions of the night before flooded back.

It was as if a hammer had come down on his heart. Even though he couldn't see he knew that he was unclothed and that he wasn't alone. The warm air of the mine was comforting. He had spent so many years inside of caves, but it was the first time he had ever slept in one... and it was the first time he had ever slept with another.

Although he couldn't see in the darkness of the cave he could feel Brigitte's arms embracing him. He could feel her warm breath on his neck as she slept soundlessly next to him on the warm planks of the abandoned shaft. He lay there a moment longer, thinking about the past with her, the potential future, and then he felt sick to his stomach.

Now wasn't the time... They shouldn't have done this.

Guilt began to sweep into him, knowing that the time and place for their romance was all wrong. In a matter of months, their childhood friendship was shattered and somehow the grief and tragedy of their lives transformed it into something else. He felt ashamed, as he began to ponder the last few months, each moment Brigitte and him were together.

She had held him when he lost his family, and he did the same when she lost hers. They cried together when their school friends followed the speaker and they cried a little last night when they were talking last night.

He felt her tears against his face when he kissed her too.

Or did she kiss him? Did she even kiss him back? Wait-

He felt sicker.

Did he take advantage of her? No- but did he? This was all wrong, how could he have hurt her like that?

"Why is your heart beating so fast?" Brigitte mumbled in a annoyed voice.

Tristen jumped, his back scrapping against the wooden planks beneath. He let out a yelp that echoed throughout the cave unanswered. The woman next to him let out a sigh.

"It woke me up".

"... Sorry" he responded flatly.

She cozied up next to him, hugging him tighter.

"Hey...I-I'm sorry" she whispered heatedly.

"What?" Tristen stammered taken aback, "no, you're fine you just startled me".

"No. Not about that- that's your fault" she said in a matter of fact tone, "about last night. I-I feel like... you were ready, right? Like- I-"

Tristen interrupted.

"What? No, I'm sorry! I know you're not feeling too well I didn't mean to-"

"I felt fine last night; Great even, wait did you not feel fine?-" she responded vulnerably.

"I-I felt great too, wait no- I mean..." his voice trailed off, his face feeling flush.

There was a silence between them before they burst out laughing.

"I have never found it hard to talk to you until now, Tristen. What the hell happened?" she affirmed, still laughing.

"Well... last night, right?" he laughed back.

Oh, my word, he laughed. Tristen could not remember the last time he laughed. Knowing that she had the same hesitation swept any guilt from his mind, and all that mattered was that they were there together, in that moment.

She dug a playful jab against his rib, and he laughed some more.

"I missed that laugh. I... I think I love you Tristen. I have never felt more like myself than I did last night... and now I guess" Brigitte said shyly.

He smiled in the darkness; certain she was smiling too. He reached out and touched her face, his handing gliding over her rosy and running his fingers through her long curly hair.

"I think I love you too, Brigy".

They shared a passionate kiss, and two of them sat there for some time until they knew they would have to return to the surface eventually. They re-clothed and made their way through the abandoned mine shaft using the same lantern from the night before. The lantern ran before they reached the end, but from remembering the paths from the night before, they resurfaced into the afternoon light and into the rabble of everyday life in the lower district.

The abandoned mine shaft was ancient, created long before Tristen's grandfather was born. It was one of the closer was in town and Dain had asked him to go explore for any possible "growing" places, as he called them. Anywhere moist, possible moss and if not, could he get people to live inside.

Tristen's assessment?

Sure, some people could live in there, but the winding darkness could lead to people getting lost. But at this rate, talking to anyone else but their inner circle felt moot. Half the town was losing their minds. The streets were littered with decay. Rotten animal corpses, beggars and paranoia littered the air. Tristen couldn't believe the whole day had passed them by, and for those blissful moments this horrible reality had escaped them.

They finally turned and faced each other, seeing each other in the new light. Brigitte's large green eyes gleamed in the morning sun, her frizzy brown hair, her warm smile.

All things considered; things didn't feel so bad... anymore...

But as if things were getting too good, in an instant a painful streak flashed across Brigitte's face. It looked like she had seen a ghost and all the color drained from her face and her eyes looked past Tristen. Tristen whipped his head around, expecting to see one of the speakers' warriors, but there was nothing there. Just a nearby crumbled building. He turned back to face her, and tears were running down her face.

She covered her ears and shut her eyes, violently lowering her head as her feet slipped under her and she collapsed into the snow.

"Brigy!" Tristen exclaimed as he dropped down next to her.

Brigitte began to writhe around in the snow, gritting her teeth and letting out a low scowl of pain that grew with every second. He tried to get a hold of her but she squirmed him off and kicked him back. He watched on helplessly as she continued to contort in agony until a few seconds later, she slowly stopped moving and she opened her eyes. Around them, no one stood to help or even cared to notice.

"Brigy are you alright?" he pleaded.

She breathed a calm breath before quickly nodding her head. She faced him and a faint hint of glow from the morning had returned. She was no longer smiling and a worried look was cast on her face.

"Sorry, I-I don't know what that was".

Without thinking, he brought her into a comforting hug which she didn't reject.

"That was way worse that the other ones" she said into his shoulder.

"I... I get them too sometimes" he said as helpfully as he could.

It was a half-truth, he would get the headaches but... never like that. His mother got them like that before...

"Hey... I'll be fine. You can let me go now, Tristen".

He released her and helped her up.

"I need to check up on my grandfather, if anything is wrong you stop what you're doing and come running to me- okay?" Tristen said pulling up any courage from his chest.

She gave him a half-cocked smile. They both know that she usually was the tougher one.

"I should probably look after my canaries, can't keep letting them loose or more I'll piss off more people. Don't look at me like that, I'll be fine" she said as she moved in closer.

They parted ways with an awkward kiss and then Tristen made his way back to his grandparent's house in the lower district. Gramps was probably still stuck in bed and Tristen was going to get an earful from him about sleeping in. He eventually made it inside, and began to do the daily chores of cleaning his Gramps in the bath, half listening to his elder talking about the "good old days". When Gramps asked him if there was anything he was worried about, he avoided the subject about Brigy and himself. Tristen still had to inform Dain about the cave, but there was no rush.

"That cave from before" Gramps muttered as Tristen dragged a ragged sponge over his back.

"Which one?" Tristen asked.

"The one with the noise... Is your friend- Brigitte still watching over it?"

Tristen responded with a low gruff.

"Good... good... I think we are getting close" the old man whispered to himself.

Tristen was not so sure. The more tunnels they dig, the more fog-wall-dead-ends they came across. But also... the more sounds echo throughout the tunnels. Tristen's head would hurt whenever he explored with Dain and Aster and was concerned for Brigitte's health.

Fully dressed, clean, and in the main room drinking his tea, Tristen left his Grampa to his own musing. He opened the main door into the afternoon light and fastened his knife around the back of belt as he shut the door behind him.

Although he had never used it it gave him a sense of comfort.

He began to wonder who was chosen today, and who would be given into the mist. The crowds were beginning to die down in the streets, he watched as one beggar across the street sat, starved, and nearly half dead. The man was rocking back and forth muttering to himself.

For a moment, he wished someone like that would be picked, so he wouldn't have to look at them anymore.

"Tristen!" a voice shouted into the cold air.

Aster, Brigitte's cousin was running towards the house. His eyes were large, his face pale and petrified. In an instant, Tristen regretted what he had been thinking.

"No" he whispered.

Without saying another word, he ran down the crumbling steps and ran past Aster, who was still collecting his breath.

"She-" he began but Tristen was long gone to hear the rest.

His heart was pounding as he ran down the snow covered streets. Each step felt heavy but he needed to make sure.

He needed to know.

He ran past his old school, the houses of his friends that had long since entered the fog. He ran through the twisting town until he arrived at the familiar square. There was a gathering around the square and he charged through them to see the individual prostrated towards the fog wall. The sun's red light just barely touching the wall of misty fog.

"No no no" he panicked as he ran towards the chosen one who sat, back bent towards the fog wall.

He slid onto the icy ground and grabbed a hold of Brigitte.

She didn't react to his touch.

"Brigy! Brigy come on! Wake up!" he shouted at her.

Hot tears began to stream down his face and a wave of panic began to set in. He felt the eyes of the crowd around, standing, observing, offering no help as everyone there knew what was going to happen.

He had been here before so many times. Once with his father, dozens of times with Brigitte and now by himself.

He shook her as hard as he could and she did nothing but lie down, her forehead against the cool, icy ground. He forcefully turned her head and was horrified at the sight. Her eyes were blank, whatever life from the morning before were gone. He couldn't believe that out of all the people in the city, they chose her...

Just her!

The sun was finally about to set, and it would be mere moments before the speaker would appear. It couldn't end like this, he thought to himself. He had to do something!

He lined himself up with her, and forcefully, prostrated himself towards the old district, awaiting the speaker.

---

Tristen's heart was pounding in his chest. He heard the eery sound of the speaker and her knights coming through the mist, the unworldly sound that made his stomach churn. The knights heavy metal boots made a distinct clanging sound as each step shattered the ice beneath them, but the speaker stood in the snow, disgustingly barefoot.

He did not dare look up, and he didn't need to. If he did his rouse would be up and he would be dead.

"Subjects!" the chill voice rang out.

Tristen's felt petrified, cold sweat ran down his forehead as he fought every instinct to run. He forced his feet to resist trembling as he heard each soft step the speaker made towards them. Finally, he could see her red, rotten, scraggly feet out of the corner of his eye.

"Two more will join us tonight! Rejoice! As they will live forever with their friends and family on the other side!"

Each word made his skin crawl more, and finally, she opened her mouth and began to sing.

As soon as the first word left her lips, his head began to swim and swirl as each word danced in the echoes of his thoughts. He could not tell one word from the other, and each incomprehensible sound drew him into a miasma of shadow. It felt as if the darkness of the nights were surrounding him, a darkness creeping onto his robes, climbing his skin and seeping into his eyes. In an instant, his vision failed him. In the darkness behinds his eyelids he could see the recurring nightmare that happened every time she would sing.

He saw it, hundreds of faceless, naked, skinned or flayed men and women standing in a dead plain of ash underneath a deep, heavy eclipse.

He breathed in the ash and it felt like he was going to choke. The smell of death was so strong he wanted to puke but he held it in. He could hear screams, cries for help from the flayed bodies, but at the same time he felt nothing, empty and finally, a hole in the sky open up surrounded by flame. The burning, black circle drew his gaze and before he knew it, it was all he could look at. He peered into it as the hole grew bigger and inside the dark pit was a black pool of liquid which created a ghastly, naked reflection of himself. He watched his image with care, but as each second passed on, his skin deteriorated into a rotten, diseased shell. His eyes sunk into his head, his skin further curled and rotted until he looked like all the other disfigured men and women.

He opened his mouth to scream but his voice amounted to nothing more than a low, throaty growl. Eventually the fear subsided, and he found himself gripped with a dark vanity, admiring the hideous formation.

He stood there looking into the reflection, his mind empty and hollow, his eyes wiped of any life. Not a single thought of the suffering from the months before, no one else in the world mattered.

But something called him back from the dark.

He felt a warmth in his chest.

A... feeling he had never felt before.

He felt arms wrap around him, comforting him. He reached up and felt the arms, their warm sensation on his naked skin. His monstrous face smiled.

His lover's embrace from the morning before.

Every sensation from the morning came rushing back. The life rushed back into his eyes and he felt a wave of heat all around his body. The heat in his chest burned away the darkness and his heart beat with a strength he'd never felt.

In an instant, his eyes were opened, and he was back from the nightmare. He was walking, the speaker's black, rotted left hand was leading him towards the wall.

Her rotten fleshly hand felt colder than any ice he had ever touched. He could feel the tug of the medallion around his neck. He cast his gaze to his right where Brigitte was, she was looking at him, her eyes awake but full of terror. He wondered if she felt the same way as he did.

He had to act now.

Without thinking, Tristen wrung his hand free and drew his knife. The speaker whipped around, her black eyes full of surprise.

It was over in an instant, he pushed the blade into her chest, and she let out a deep gasp. He pulled the knife back, feeling the warm blood on the hilt as he drew back. The knights in front of them turned around, their lifeless glare now looking right at Tristen.

It was as if like they were unwilling to even attack if the speaker was between them.

The air was thick with anticipation, Tristen heart stopped as he waited for the knights to make a move. The gasping speaker choked on her blood and collapsed to the ground. Brigitte pulled her own hand away, looking up at the towering knights, Tristen by her side. The two stood alone, surronded by silent onlookers as the speaker spat and sputtered. The speaker's shock subsided, and let out an horrific scream.

Finally letting his instincts of flight take over, he snatched Brigitte's hand.

"Run!" he screamed with terror.

He turned, running into the crowd, one hand on his bloody blade and the other intertwined with Brigitte's. He heard a loud wind as he ran and he stole a look just in time to see the speaker's body mysterious ignite into a wispy congregation of ash, smoke and dust. He gave it no thought and turned back to the crowd as he ran, he could hear the dark knights begin to give pursuit...

---

They sprinted through crowds, between buildings and over icy rubble as the knights gave chase. They kept running, ignoring the pain in their feet and the tightness in their chests. They entered one of the burned stables, hoping that the rubble would slow down the knights but as they ducked and dodged between the ashen ruins and toppled supports, the knights cut through any obstacles with ease. They continued to flee until they passed the mine entrance from the morning before.

"Tristen! The cave!" Brigitte screamed, tugging on his hand.

Tristen stopped in his tracks, hesitated for a second before understanding.

Not letting go, he ran into the darkness of the cave hearing the terrible boots coming closer. Any other time would've been suicide to go into a cave without a light source, one slip could lead to a deathly plummet. But using his memory from the morning, they retraced their steps in the dark.

The continued into the black, hearing nothing but the sounds of the knight's boots and their own breath.

Tristen felt a tug around followed a sharp pain around his neck. He pressed his shoulder against his neck and felt nothing. The medallion must have gotten caught on something. He ignored it and continued to feel around the cave, Brigitte gripping his hand tighter.

"Do you know where you are going?!" she hissed.

"I hope so!" he hissed back.

Eventually, they entered into a familiar cave where they had woken up. It was the end of the line. They moved into a corner of the cave and huddled down. They noise of the boots continued to grow louder and louder until they heard them stop right outside the entrance. Tristen's heart was pounding, he couldn't stop panting from the running. He felt a cool hand cover his mouth to muzzle his breath.

He saw two pairs of red eyes looking around the room.

Tristen watched as one of the knights ebbed closer to where they were hiding. Each step echoed loudly in the cave and Tristen's heart continued to pound and pound.

This was it. They were done for.

Something whizzed by him and made a crashing sound outside the cave. It must've been a rock that Brigitte tossed. Whatever it was, it tumbled down the abandoned shaft, echoing loudly as it danced down another direction. Immediately the eyes disappeared, and the shuffling boots left to chase the noise in unison. Tristen's heartbeat slowed as the noise faded away into the shadows and the two of them sat in the darkness, waiting, listening to the sound of the water droplets they heard in the morning.

They heard the boots again, but they passed the cave heading towards the surface.

After what felt like an eternity, Brigitte's hand left Tristen's mouth and he let out a sigh of relief. He heard her do the same thing.

"Fuck... that was close" she said without a hint of humour.

He didn't say anything, he was still terrified that they would come back. A silence passed between them again. Finally, he felt a jab in his rib that made him wince.

"Never do that again" she hissed in his ear.

"Do what?" he responded in a weak gruff.

"You know what! That was reckless- y-you could've died!"

He looked towards the voice with a flabbergasted look before suddenly feeling a pair of wet lips pressed against his.

"I couldn't live if that happened" she chuckled as she pulled back.

The two laughed, waited a bit longer until finally slowly feeling their way out of the cave. The knights weren't waiting for them, but he was cautious nonetheless. Underneath the cold night sky, they embraced again.

"Thanks, Tristen" she said softly into his ear.

As they embraced, Tristen undid the medallions latch around her neck.

"If they come looking for this, I would prefer if they came after me" he said, pocketing the medallion.

She nodded with a worried but understanding face. They parted ways for the night, Brigitte went to stay with Aster and Tristen returned back to his grandfather's house. He could feel the cold feeling of the medallion in his pocket.

---

Robin looked at the bronze medallion Tristen put on the table. Embedded into the center was a shiny black rock, it looked like obsidian, but she couldn't be certain- it could have other magical properties so it might be dangerous to examine. Lucina leaned in to get a better look, her eyes looking at the medallion with curiosity.

Robin was fascinated by the story but doubted that Tristen and the girl were just "childhood" friends like he had told them.

"Dain said he sent people into the old abandoned shaft to find the one I dropped but they couldn't find it. Which... is why today has been an exceedingly long one with tensions high" the youth said as he stood next to Ansem.

Robin looked over at Ansem with a concerned look. She remembered what it looked like when he died in the arena and it sounded eerily like how Tristen described the death of the speaker.

More likely than not, she was undead. They had to be careful. She looked over at Lucina who was peering towards the window. It was getting dark.

"Alright, I think we have enough for a plan" she announced as she flipped over to the next page; "Ansem, I need to pick your brain a bit. Take a seat".

The Undead Knight leaned off the counter and Lucina stood up to offer him her seat. He nodded his head towards Lucina and sat down next to Robin. Lucina moved to stand behind to Robin, resting her hand on the back of the chair.

"Did anything stick out to you? Anything about the knights, the speaker, the song- anything at all we should be on the lookout for?" she inquired.

Ansem nodded again, his eyes looking weathered as usual. The youth and the elder looked at him curiously.

"The knights sound like darkwraiths to me. The way Tristen and Beroc described them match their description, but I have no way of knowing for certain till I see them".

The two Feroxian's seemed taken aback, but Ansem continued.

"If this is the case, then we need to be careful. They usually work alone but I've seen them work in pairs as well. They are big- but they are agile, and they can wield power of the Dark Hand. They also use the art of life drain, so make sure they don't grab you. I... don't know what it'll do to you... but it can't be good".

Robin nodded her head. She was kicking herself for not bringing more Shepards, but there was no way they could have known things were going to be this bad. At the very least, they had a walking encyclopedia about that other world.

"Hold on" the old man coughed, "where did you came from?" he asked the knight from the other world.

Robin answered for him, knowing he would give a vague, long and unconvincing answer.

"Ansem is a knight from the same world as Yuria. He is here to help out while we conduct our rescue of Flavia".

Beroc nodded, eyeing the knight with suspicion.

"Right, what about the speaker?" Robin continued.

Ansem gave an honest shrug.

"They could be anyone. But the song sounds like a miracle- or holy magic from my world".

Ansem explained that in his world, miracles were stories, legends retold of profound moments in their history of great magical spells. In recalling the moment, a semblance of the magic was cast by priests who dedicated their lives to retelling those moments. They were seen as a more righteous magic, however telling stories of the abyss and darkness held a similar magic.

"Can you use any of these miracles?" Robin further inquired.

"No..." he answered flatly.

"I cannot even read the texts they are written down in. Some are in braille, others in scripture I cannot comprehend; and even if I could, I have been told by two others that I lack the belief in the stories to use the miracles. I know it sounds delusional, but I've seen powerful miracles cast by other undead. I suppose I simply lack the faith they do in the old gods".

Robin squinted her eyes. It made a little sense, like using tomes and saying incantations, but never were the incantations stories- just words. Could they be cast quickly? Did they all take as long as the song sang by the speaker? Ansem folded his arms and thought, then he spoke.

"If I recall, there is a distinct miracle from Londor called "Atonement". Yuria told me that it was only bestowed onto those who were cast out of the Sable Church".

He paused.

"I... I once saw a hollow walking around... casting the miracle as they walked. As they sang, the crows from the trees would fly down and tear into their skin, eating their flesh as they continued to walk. They only sang louder as the crows ate them alive until the crows consumed them. As far as I know, it is the only self-punishing miracle..."

The room went dead silent. Robin knew that he spoke the honest truth, but there was no denying the terribleness of the miracle. Lucina broke the silence.

"I find it hard to picture, but I believe you, Ansem. How can we avoid these miracles?" the word sounding unpleasant to her tongue.

Ansem responded promptly.

"Usually they can take a physical form, but for ones like the speaker's, I am unsure".

Owain interjected.

"Guys, there is a lot of movement outside" he said with no theatrics in his voice.

Lucina glided to the window, followed by Tristen.

"They're headed towards the town square" he said, the calm leaving his speech.

Robin stood up, looked at her knights, and stowed her belongings away.

"Let's go, we need to see what's going to happen. Be ready for anything. Ansem, go armour up, I want you at your best right now" she said in a confident manner.

Ansem acknowledged her and left the room. Tristen stood up to join them but Beroc told him to stay. They bickered for a bit, but Tristen relented, but not before giving the medallion to Robin.

"I don't know what is going to be out there, but please be careful, lady Robin" he said.

"Robin is fine, Tristen. And don't worry" Robin said calmly, "You've got nothing to worry about, just stay indoors".

The armour beneath Robin's robes felt heavy, she had not faced something as unknown as this for some time. She strode towards the front door and opened it up, watching the crowds shuffle towards the town square. Were they bewitched, or were they simply drawn curiously by yesterday's events? Ansem returned, clad in his tattered black armour and they exchanged looks. Owain stood behind him confidently, a serious look in his eyes. She turned back and looked at Lucina, who was already looking at her.

She hoped that Lucina couldn't feel her internal dread as they exchanged glances.

No matter how prepared they were, she couldn't shake the feeling that something awful was about to happen.

---

Lucina followed closely behind Robin until the crowds in front of them came to a stop. Chatter ran among the crowd with people questioning what was going to happen. They pushed through and came upon a wide circular town square. There were ruined shopping stalls covered with ice strewn about, most likely cleaned out and then remained untouched in the months of isolation. Northward was the fog of mist they had seen on the way in, enrapturing the upper district in a thick miasma of grey and white where only the tops of the large buildings could be seen.

It was a ghastly sight.

Only slight murmurs broke the silence before a horrid sound came from the fog. As the sound was drawn out, two massive, hooded knights stepped through the fog and into the town square. They looked just like the Feroxian described, with armour like silver bones drawn across their breasts, shoulder pads that had what appeared to be black rotting branches protruding out. Their black tattered hoods shielded masks that looked like skeleton heads with grim faces, and in the dark pits of their skulls you could make out tiny specs of glowing red. Ansem whispered something to Robin, most likely confirming what he said before. The word made her shudder.

Darkwraiths

The darkwraiths stood holding their massive black swords in one hand and in the other was a faint red wisp than danced around their fingers. This must be the Dark Hand. Lucina felt the surge of calm before the battle spring up from her stomach. The darkwraiths were waiting for someone else. A second passed, and another figured slipped towards them through the fog.

It was a barefoot woman, dressed in black tatters clothing. She had a ghastly appearance, and although most of her skin was covered, what little that showed was disfigured. She looked like rotten, dried meat, worse than any burn victim she had ever seen in her life. Something about the way she gracefully moved gave her an unsettling aura. The crowd rang silent, and Lucina could hear the snow crunching beneath the speaker's feet.

Everyone was holding their breath, waiting for someone to break the silence.

"Subjects!" her voice rang out in a shrill tone.

"Yuria knows of the transgressions that occurred last night! She offers forgiveness! Rejoice! Know that she is forgiving to all her faithful subjects!"

Lucina's stomach churned. Her voice was both alluring and grating on her ears.

"But!" she spat, her shill becoming more threatening.

"Forgiveness comes at a price! And my loyal knights won't stop until twenty lives are taken to repay the anguish you bestowed upon me"

As she finished one of the darkwraiths speedily reached out and grabbed the closest civilian with his open hand. Lucina watched in horror and the man screamed in agony as white wisps of smoke left his face and was sucked into the darkwraiths masks. Everyone watch on as the darkwraith gently let the screaming man down, releasing him onto the icy floor.

He lay motionless, his eyes devoid of life.

"Nineteen more!" the speaker sung.

The crowd broke as the darkwraith reached for another. Chaos erupted as the group stayed still, each one of them drawing their blades. Lucina felt a larger man run into her shoulder, nearly pushing her back. She regained her footing and shoved him aside as she drew her sword. She heard the other release their blades into the open air.

"Shepards!" Robin called out, "Stay together! Lucina, with me! Owain cover Ansem!"

They formed up, standing side by side as the darkwraiths faced them on the icy town square. One of the tall knights moved towards Robin and lifted it's blade.

No sound left the monster's mouth and the blade came down. Lucina leap in front of Robin, her sword braced for the impact. The large blade collided with Lucina's Falchion and Lucina felt the weight of the attack.

Her feet dug into the ground as she deflected the blade to the left, exposing the darkwraiths defenseless. She drew her blade to her right and taking a quick step back, swung her blade across the monster's bony chest. The cut pierced the armour, and dark miasma similar to the fog bled through hole.

The monster didn't seem taken aback and in an instant, spun its massive body with unnerving speed. A pink light emitted from the knight's hand and the knight reached out to grab Lucina. Lucina side stepped the silver gauntlet and slid on the ice back towards Robin to get on the defensive. As she did so, a bolt of lightning dashed past her, causing Lucina's cloak to ripple in the air.

Robin's Thoron blasted into the knight, causing it to tumble back, falling onto one knee. Lucina seized the chance and returned to the offensive. She shuffled toward the weakened knight and with a cry, drove the Falchion into the monster's skull. The blade cleaved the head in two, and the black mist poured into the sky; the lifeless large body collapsing onto the icy snow.

Lucina turned her attention to the other knight but saw Ansem had the knight on his knee, one of his twin blades plunged deep into the darkwraith's chest. He planted his foot onto the darkwraith's chest and kicked the blade out, it crudely slid as the mist poured into the air. Lucina's stomach felt sick as the mist danced near her nose.

It smelled nothing like blood or risen, it smelled like feces and rot. She covered her nose with her left sleeve moved towards Robin.

"Heavens" she gasped as she escaped the horrid smell.

Robin called for a quick regroup and the four came together to face the speaker. The speaker stood ready to fight and reaching behind her, pulled out a white coiled cloth. She lifted it up to the air and a purple ring engulfed her. She whispered something to herself and a purple light emitted from her, but no physical magic came flying towards the group. The air suddenly felt light and a Lucina felt a slight twinge of pain in her head. She remained focused, eyeing around the speaker for any hint of a spell and waited for Robin to give an order. Ansem ignited his blades with his paper resin, the blades dancing with a dark red mist.

The speaker looked from person to person, her cold black eyes dancing from each person to person before landing on Ansem. Her eye's widened, and her mouth trembled. She removed herself from her stance and she opened her mouth, her face consumed with surprise.

But when she spoke nothing came out, but the word mouthed were clear to Lucina's eyes.

'Ansem?'.

Lucina opened her own mouth, to ask Robin for an order but nothing left her lips. She breathed the words out but not a sound came from her chest.

She cast a look at Robin and could see she was unable to speak as well. She had a look of shock on her face, one hand on her tome and another in front of her lips.

The spell, or miracle, had sapped their ability to communicate and in an instant, Lucina realized she needed to act on her own. Ansem looked at the speaker but Lucina could not gleam his face beneath his black helmet. Without warning, Ansem charged towards the speaker, blades drawn and at the ready. The speaker turned back, panic on her face and ran towards the fog wall, pressing her hand into the miasma and slipping back behind the wall.

Lucina called after him, opening her mouth to shout but-

Nothing.

She mouthed a curse and ran towards him. She watched as he pressed his hand into the fog wall and just like the speaker, slipped inside effortlessly. A second too late, she reached the wall and slammed right into it. The physical presence of the fog wall knocked her back and in place of a cough or grunt came silent air. Before she hit the floor, she felt a pair of arms catch her. Owain had caught up just in time and began to utter something but no sound left his lips. She stared bewildered at him before suddenly, the ringing subsided and Owain's voice slowly ebbed into the air.

"Can you hear me!?" he screamed into the air.

She nodded and pushed herself off him, returning to the fog wall. She mimicked the motions that Ansem did, hoping it was some sort of rite that allowed him entrance, and nothing happened. She banged on the fog wall and screamed into the air, hoping that her voice could be heard on the other side.

"Ansem! Ansem! Where do you think you're going!? Come back!" her angry voice rang out into the air.

She waited for a reply, but nothing came back. She whipped her head around to look at Robin and she could see colour drained from her face.

"She silenced us with that miracle. I tried to cast a spell, but nothing came out." she spoke with heated shame, putting her tome away.

"I waited for you to say something Robin! Otherwise, I would've done something sooner" Owain sputtered out, putting his blades away.

Lucina's hand felt the mist. Her hands were repelled by a presence that felt more like a stone wall than a slippery mist. She heard noises from behind them and turned around again, expecting to see more darkwraiths. Instead, there were a group of armed men and women wearing miners outfits. She recognized one as the Elder's grandson and another as Dain, the man they met on their way in.

"What happened?" a green-eyed girl with frizzy hair asked.

She stood near Tristen and Lucina immediately pieced together this was most likely the girl he mentioned from before. Brigitte, was it?

It sounded right.

Robin composed herself and turned her attention to the group.

"There has got to be another way in. Ansem just slipped right in like it was nothing but we can't get through".

Dain shook his head.

"Only people like the speaker can enter. Well, them and the people wearing the medallion".

Robin immediately pulled it out and held it in her hand. She gave it a long, concerned glance before putting the chain around her neck She took a deep breath, and moved towards the wall.

"I'm going to go after him" she said aloud, "Lucina, take Owain and establish a base at the Elder's. If I'm not back-"

She reached her hand towards the wall and without hesitation Lucina snatched it away.

"No" she said, catching Robin off guard.

"Father... Chrom will need you. If you're hurt in there is no way we can pull you out".

Lucina let go of Robin's hand and stepped towards her.

"I'll go" she said confidently, "I was supposed to look over him anyways- let me amend my mistake".

Robin looked at her, her gaze filled with apprehension. Her golden eyes looked at her with that same look she gave the Elder. Lucina gave her a warm, reassuring smile.

"Lucina..." Robin said solemnly.

Lucina was adamant and stood her ground. She understood why Robin felt this way- but she had to put those feeling aside.

"Robin- you know this is the only way. You cannot treat me any differently than the other Shepards" she said, half hissing and half concerned.

Robin looked at her, heart struck, but after a time she nodded her head. A convincing smile came across her lips and she reached around her neck, removing the medallion. She put it around Lucina and Lucina felt the uncomfortable the weight around her neck. Lucina turned towards the wall and took a deep breath; but before she could enter Robin pulled her in for a tight hug.

"Don't let this be your end, Lucina. Please..." she whispered into her ear.

Lucina squeezed her back, feeling Robin's heavy heartbeat.

"Don't worry, I will" she said as she released her.

Lucina looked at Owain and two exchanged glances.

"If you can't fight Lucina, run back to us" he said in a serious tone.

She let out a huff of acknowledgement and put her hand against the misty air. Where her hand touched, the air mist seemed to envelope and as she pressed onward, she stepped into the fog wall.

---

Ansem slipped into the fog wall and found himself in an pathway flanked by two brick walls. He had entered some sort of garrisoned gateway what must have separated the lower and upper districts of the town. As he did, the carthus rouge faded away from the twin blades and he reignite them with the bloody resin. He turned back, hoping to see the other Shepards come through but none of them entered with him. Instead, the fog wall still remained intact.

Perhaps only hollows could enter fog walls... maybe he should have waited, he thought.

He pressed his hand back to the fog and he couldn't slip back to the others. He took a deep sigh and continued onwards. He could see footsteps in the fresh snow and gave chase. As he followed down the narrow pathway, his mind began to wander.

He knew the speaker looked familiar the moment he saw her, and her voice called back to someone from his past. He couldn't pin in down, but he also couldn't ruminate on it while fighting the darkwraith.

But when they made eye contact, he felt guilt sweep through him. He almost called out to her but the Vow of Silence kept him from saying anything. Had he heard Robin maybe he would've waited but now... now he had to press on. The speaker could be getting reinforcements and although they fared well against two darkwraiths, an army would be a slaughter.

He continued into the darkness until an opening could be seen ahead. Just before he entered, he could see a gathering of tattered robes near the exit and on top of the heap lay a small, ornate wooden box. He bent down and held the box in his hand and in an instant, recognized it as a bottomless box. He put it away and entered the light.

The Unkindled found himself in a dimly lit courtyard. It must've been a meeting place for upper class citizens, but now it was perfectly untouched by man. A dense layer of snow blanketed the lifeless area, except for a single set of footprints. His gaze followed them until they rested on the individual responsible for them.

He recognized her in an instant.

In its place was a knight dressed in royal blue and dazzling silver. Faded gold trims outlined the blue cloth and below the knight's ordinary helmet was a faded orange cloth that wrapped around their neck. Beneath it all was a layer of thick chain mail, famous for protecting the elite knights of the past. Her crest shield was of a similar royal blue, and in the center was the symbol of Astora, the kingdom from faded memory. In the knight's right hand, was not her recognizable straight sword, but the fearsome Morion blade.

"Anri" the name escaped his lips. The knight didn't respond.

They stood there, and a light cascade of snow began to fall onto the courtyard. Anri broke the silence.

"It was you... After you left... I found Horace's grave in the depths, heard his hollowed body trying to claw its way out... I know it was you... You lied to me...I" her seething voice called out in her familiar echoed voice.

Ansem didn't respond, he could feel the wave of shame envelope him. He let his head fall slightly and for a moment he could not bear to look at this ghost from his past. He remembered climbing down the bridge ladder and finding Horace in the sludge beneath the catacombs. Their swift, decisive duel...

"N-no, Horace was already hollow when I found him. But yes... I did lie... I didn't want you to know that he had gone hollow I-I" he said, his voice failing him.

"I knew that if you found out you wouldn't have pressed on... And you were so close to achieving your destiny against Aldrich I-I couldn't bear to watch you give up. So... I lied... I'm sorry" he breathed.

He could feel Anri's stare, it was strange... Here, in this foreign land stood yet another person from his past life. She spoke once more.

"And the pilgrim? The marriage? Did you know about that too? Did you know what ANY that entailed?"

Once again, Ansem wasn't sure he had the courage to tell her the truth. He beat his fist against his chest, snuffing the fearfulness out of his heart.

He had overcome so much since then, it felt like he was talking about another person... But he had to be honest... She deserved that much.

"No... I..." he hesitated, "I blindly followed Yuria's commands. By then my mind was addled and I thought nothing more than to snuff out the last flame and I was nothing more than a pawn. I did as she commanded, I was her champion regardless of the consequences. We... no... I violated you for your dark sigil and for that I deserve your wrath... I could never say anything to make it right... But for what it's worth I-"

"Stop" she interjected. "My heart was open to you and you did nothing to return any feelings, only used it against me... I-I can never forgive you".

The two stood again in silence. Ansem knew this was only going to end one way. Finally, Anri tossed her shield to the ground, grabbing her blade with both hands.

"But I don't want to forgive you... I want to make you suffer over and over again. I'm... I'm Yuria's champion now, not you. All I have to do cut you limb from limb and bring you back..." her pitch raised slightly.

"For Horace... for me...for Londor" she finished in half-crazed tone.

The Unkindled sought one last time to reach her. He took a step forward but she put her sword in front of her.

"I have the First Flame, Anri. She's just using you to get to me and to make these people suffer. You're no better than I was when-"

"DON'T COMPARE ME TO YOU!" she screamed, cutting him off.

"You ran away just when you could have repaired our world! You left us to rot without our humanity! And for what?! For the FireKeeper!? I honestly cannot fathom what caused you to change! You were supposed to be our ruler- that's what Yuria told me! You were always a coward, then and now!"

Her voice rang deep and cut into Ansem's heart. If he were not wearing his helmet, she would see his shame and see that her words hurt more than anything else he had endured since coming here. He could try to explain what the First Flame told him, but she wouldn't believe him.

He knew that Yuria was lying to her... but he wasn't the person to tell her otherwise. She was gone... but even so... something pulled her out of that addled trance.

Ah, he thought to himself, realizing what it was.

Revenge, no matter low, carried more weight than the hollow apathy that had gripped them both before. There was nothing else he could say.

"This is it, Ansem. And if you decide to kill yourself like you did against Yuria, when you come back I will be waiting for you to fight you all over again" she spat.

"and each time, I'm going to bath in the ecstasy of your screams, knowing that I'm one step closer to sapping your humanity away".

Whatever she saw in him that rekindled her desire for revenge was all that was left. Only his suffering would sate her hunger now.

"Are you ready?" Anri cursed.

"If it must come to this... then I-I have no choice. I truly am sorry, Anri, but I have too much at stake to lose" he said, preparing himself.

"Come at me" the Unkindled dared.

She lifted her sword and charged at the Ashen One. She let out an echoing battle cry that shook Ansem's fibers, and he took the moment to reignite his blade. She drew closer and closer until she was in swinging distance and she came down with a powerful swing. Ansem back-stepped right out of reach, watching the jagged blade come down onto the snow casting white powder up into the air. He followed up with two quick thrusts and his stained blade's aim was true.

Neither of them noticed the blue warrior watching from the entrance, her sword drawn, her mouth silent.

The battle was over in an instant, and Anri's terrible, sharp scream rang out throughout the courtyard.

---

The Ashen One dropped his swords and ran towards her, catching her just in time. She lay in his arms, her faded colours stained blood red. She struggled to fight him but he held her down. She kicked, wriggled, twisted, but eventually her strength failed her.

"Why?" she cried.

"Why can't I avenge the ones I love? I-I-I couldn't kill Aldrich... I can't kill you... I-I" she cried.

She writhed in pain; her breathing became fast paced.

"Curse you, Ansem. I-I hope you never find the Fire Keeper, I hope Yuria found a way to...to-" the air sapped from her lips.

She let out a low cry followed by desperate whimper. The Unkindled sat there, silently, bearing this undead's cries. She was bleeding profusely, and he could feel the cool liquid seep into the cracks of his armor.

She wasn't long for the world, and soon she would disappear into a wisp of ash and smoke. Her arms slowly reached around him and for a second, he hesitated- thinking perhaps she was armed. But she hugged him tight and let out a heart wrenching weep. Ansem pulled out his estus flask and offered it to her, but she raised her hand and pushed it aside.

"Do... do you know what we are doing here, Ansem?" she whispered.

He shook his head, slowly. Anri raised her hand and slowly, painfully, undid the latch under her helmet. The helmet came right off, showing her hollowed face. Her disfigured face, her rotten flesh, her sunken black eyes; all bare in the cold snow.

"This is a place of harvest, Ansem. Yuria... the khan... he promised her a fief and she asked for the most remote one... He was reluctant... to give it to her but when she... m-made it clear she had no intention to use the mine for wealth... he didn't care to lose the inherited city... if you could call it that... Everyone who I chose... is a husk now... a new breed of man without their humanity".

Ansem watched as the she leaned in towards his chest once more.

"I'm a monster now...I-I can't do this anymore, make it stop!" she pleaded, breathing heavier.

Blood was beginning to pool into her lungs. She was choking as she continued to speak.

"I don't think I can handle coming back this time, Ansem. I-I can feel it. I'm going to hollow-... I wish I would be rid of it, this curse" she whispered.

Her head tilted to the side and the horrible, raspy breathing began to slow.

"It's... so cold...oh, Horace, everyone, forgive me... I was weak on my own" she muttered so quietly, Ansem barely heard it.

Her eyes glazed over, and her soul gracefully left her body. Her grip loosened and her hands fell to the side, crumbling into the snow with a muffled metallic thud. Ansem watched as the ashen light show began to swirl around her and as he did, the fiery sparks danced around him as well. His eyes widened as he felt a surge of heat emanate in his chest.

Just as Anri's body faded into mist, Ansem's chest began to ache with a pain he hadn't felt since he fought the Soul of Cinder. He clutched his chest, feeling the unbearable heat run through his body, he closed his eyes and grit through the pain. The pain spread all around him- he could feel in in every inch of his body and just as he thought was going to catch on fire, he felt a coolness radiate within him.

Whatever soaring maelstrom of heat was quenched by the darkness within, and when he opened his eyes he was no longer in the courtyard. He glanced around and saw he was once again in the Firelink Shrine- no- that "other" Firelink Shrine. The pristine stairways, candles adorning all the stairs by the thousands, and as he looked to where his love would stand, he felt that... for one instance... he would see her there.

But where she would stand was empty, only the clean stairs. He cast his view around, and he could see the Lords he put defeated staring down at him from their thrones, their cold eyes looking lifeless. The Abyss Watcher, Yhorm, Ludleth, Aldrich and Prince Lotrhic; all watched with empty eyes judging harshly but remaining silent.

He was almost glad to see them.

"Alas! The man is garbed!" Solaire boomed in a cheery voice.

He turned back to where the Fire Keeper would sometimes stand in in it's place stood Solaire and Gwyn. Ansem peered down and saw he wasn't naked this time, but wearing white slacks. He was still shirtless, but at least he was slightly more decent.

Gwyn acknowledge him with a gruff grunt but said nothing.

"Why am I here?" The Unkindled inquired as he stood up.

Solaire gave him an honest shrug and turned to Gwyn.

"You had questions"

The Ashen One was taken aback.

"I don't recall asking anything. I wasn't even sure I could come back here- I thought our conversations were finished" he responded.

Solaire beamed at him once more.

"Well, are you perhaps glad they aren't?"

Ansem frowned, glancing towards the other lords.

"I'm... not sure".

Solaire approached him, his dazzling robes gleaming in the candlelight.

"Well... you may not be seeking answers, but your mind is. Are you not... curious about what happened to Anri?"

Solaire stopped in front of him, his features exquisite and powerful. Ansem looked down at his hands, he was just holding onto her, giving her dignity in death. This death was different, he felt heat in his heart, right where the First Flame is. He looked back up at Solaire, and the man nodded his face.

"Come with me".

Solaire walked towards where Andre would be hammering away and walked down the steps to the right. Ansem followed suit, passing where Cornyx of the Great Swamp used to meditate. They walked deeper in the shrine towards where Irina of Carim used to sit- Ansem hesitated, half expecting her to be there, but alas the slab where she would sit was empty. They stopped before reaching where Irina would sit and Sunlight Warrior pointed to a dazzling silver urn that sat alone in one of the crypts in the wall.

Ansem reached out and cupped the urn, carrying it gently. He examined it...it felt warm to the touch. The silver had a tinge of blue on it, and the lid was a beautiful bronze-gold. The elite knight's helmet was engraved onto the side and the words "May the Flames Guide Your Way" was written beneath it. Ansem solemnly remembered when Anri told him those words and returned the urn to the crypt.

"What does any of this mean?" he asked, turning back to the Lord of Cinder.

Solaire took a deep breath and turned to the Unkindled.

"Not all undead are fit to subdue the fire, to contain the power of creation within. In this respect, you are special Ansem".

Ansem looked on, un-answering,

"But you already know this... And you should also know that all undead, and in this case, Anri, are fit to be kindling to the flame".

Ansem's eyes widened. He looked back at the Urn, Solaire did too, and the two continued to converse.

"So, she kindled the flame? Is... is she a lord of Cinder?"

"No... Her soul amounted to nothing more than cheap tinder for the flame. Her existence was snuffed out in an instance, and her undead bones did nearly nothing to extend the Flame's life. But... her essence is here"

"So she won't come back then? Her suffering is... over?"

Solaire nodded his head.

"Yes, but it came at a cost" he said solemnly.

Ansem turned away from the urn.

"The flame will last longer because of her. And if you accept another undead into you it will only intensify the time you will have to bear the flame".

The Ashen One stood silently, processing the information.

"You said she was only cheap tinder... how much time did she add?" he asked, half not wanting to know.

"Two hundred years, Ansem" Solaire said flatly.

The words should have pierced him to the core, the sudden jolt of awareness- the seasons and all the encompassing measurements of time. He took a deep breath. Two hundred years was but a drop in the ocean on how much time the First Flame had left when he first inherited it. In the large scale of things, it barely made a difference. Ansem turned away from the Lord of Cinder and returned to the main chamber of the Firelink Shrine. He passed by the First Lord of Cinder without saying a word and stood in the center, ready to return from this dream-like shrine.

"Champion" Solaire called out, stepping into the chamber; "every hollow you consume will be free from the curse, but by kindling the flame the time you must carry it will only extend forever more. It is up to you, to do what you feel is right".

The Unkindled looked towards the knight and gave him a nod of understanding. He blinked, and immediately, he was back from the dream into the cold air of Renault. His hands were empty, but his heart's thoughts were answered by the sunlight knight. He heard crunching snow behind him and Lucina came into view, her sword still drawn. Ansem continued to look at his hands.

Anri was gone... Forever... He felt like he needed to say something- anything.

But nothing came to mind.

All he could think about, was that her journey had finally come to an end. It tasted bitter, knowing that she was faced with failure at every turn. It would have been better if she conquered the god eater, side by side with her compatriot, but instead she accomplished nothing. Perhaps in another time, she became more than just a memory.

At the very least, her suffering was over. His had to continue.

"Rise up, Ansem. She could be back at any moment" Lucina whispered, a hand gently touching Ansem's shoulder.

For a fleeting moment, the Unkindled wished she was right. But it was better this way. He shook his head.

"She's not coming back..." he murmured.

"But... she's undead is she not?" Lucina retorted.

The ashen warrior pulled out Anri's bottomless box and pressed it against Lucina's chest. She took her hand off the Unkindled and gripped it, looking at the box curiously.

"Here... I don't want this- it's yours... I'll explain everything later" he breathed, turning back, weakly walking back towards the town square.

Lucina stood there stunned, taken aback. She glanced up, looking at the sky as the fog dissipated, revealing the surrounding buildings. She stood there in the light snow, unsure of what she just witnessed. She glanced towards the buildings, apprehensive of what was to come, before finally following the Ashen One back to the others.

---

A/N: Hello everyone! I hope y'all are staying safe in this tumultuous time! Once again, after a really long time (sorry about that) here is my latest post!

I know; I know I sound like a broken record, but more distractions came into my life since the last chapter. I genuinely continued to be interested in writing but honestly it was a miracle I even got the last chapter out around a year ago. The following week after I posted it, I started the most intensive internship of my life, moved out, started my masters program along with an accompanying fellowship and haven't had any room to breath since... Well... since these last few weeks.

I'm still part of the work force that is deemed "essential business" so I still am working for the university, but I found myself with a few hours to spare during the day. So it made the most sense to pour my time into this. Most of the saved docs expired which was juuuuust fine.

Superb, really.

Luckily I still have the old word doc so I reformatted it and made some adjustments since this chapter was written before other chapters and I changed where I wanted to take the story. I needed to be as consistent as possible, and editing takes time.

I can't make promises on a working schedule, shit is just too hectic right now. I know that sucks to hear and I don't even like hearing it from myself, but it's the truth. A chapter may pop up here and then, and if things work out they may come out sooner but I can't say in good faith that things will ramp up. I was naive when I said I would be able to write more, now I know that I honestly can't be sure if my schedule improves or worsens and the cynic in me is going to assume the latter.

Onto the chapter break down, there is a lot to cover so I'll take it from the top.

The Shepards end up meeting up with a lead on Flavia's location and it only creates more questions. The lead is shot down and now, the Shepards must contend with the evil living in the town before they can escape. They listen to the denizens on this town and learn more about what is going on, but there is too much going on for them to get their bearings; they don't even get a chance to establish a base of operations before they are going to the town square for a fight.

The isolated nature of the town is perfect for remnants of these two worlds to collide without seriously raising concerns from neighboring nations. We are introduced to some side characters and a the idea that human emotions are linked to your humanity. A little cheesy, I know, but raw emotion is rare in the Dark Souls world and that can be associated with the lack of human emotions like love and care. I introduced Tristen and Brigitte as more normal characters dealing with this tragedy though their youth. I don't plan to return to them in any serious way, but having Tristen peer into the Dark Souls world, thinking it was a horrific nightmare or illusion shows just how removed Lodran is to a typical peasant. Clues are sprinkled in about what Yuria is doing with the citizens of the town, but by the end it is made clear that Anri, now a cursed devotee to dreadful Sable Church, is harvesting humanity. If Flavia really is here, she is most likely not herself anymore.

I brought in darkwraiths since they are good, tough enemies from the Dark Souls world. Through the eyes of common people, their presence is oppressive, scary and alien. Miracles are seen as songs to them and whatever new miracle the people from Londor have concocted have a nightmarish hold on the denizens of this town. However, with Anri's death, the fog is lifted.

Speaking of Anri, I felt she was a good entry for this chapter. Her story is left unresolved by the end of the Dark Lord ending, and I felt this was a good time to complete her story. Her journey is tragic, bitter and I wanted to convey that the only solace she can achieve is in death, something that is unattainable to a normal undead.

Until now that is. Once again, the First Flame has intervened with undead destiny, and has given Ansem a cursed power. He can consume undead, ending their suffering, but extending his own. Ansem, Unkindled Ash, Champion of the Fire and forlorn knight of Londor is now the only slayer of undead. This will play a bigger role later on, but for now he was able to grant Anri her last sane wish, and now she is only a memory to Ansem- one he will wish to forget.

I will start work on the next chapter tomorrow, but for now, farewell! Feel free to DM or leave review questions and I will address them personally or in the next chapter, which will hopefully (fingers crossed) come out soon!