Thanks for reading and to dud-chan for the review!
To persevere to the very end
To give succor to those in need
To speak the truth at all times
To always keep faith
To live by honor and die for selfless glory
Never to abandon your fellow knights
Never to forsake the defenseless
To despise envy and wicked ambition
And above all, to remain forever strong.
An Astoran elite knight must never falter.
An elite knight is a beacon of strength and bravery.
No matter what tragedy befalls him, an elite knight shall accept and overcome hardship with stoic silence.
He shall never burden others with his grief.
Astorans have long been called sentimental, but this shall only be true for commoners and lower-class knights.
Elite knights must walk a different path.
Elite knights endure, elite knights never yield.
Elite knights accomplish, elite knights succeed, without fear, complaints, or tears.
To fail to do so is to fail as knights and men.
Weakness and vulnerability are luxuries exclusive to the powerless and the meek.
They are not the traits of a true elite knight.
For an elite knight, death shall always be preferable than to succumb to the flaws of one's Astoran heart.
The rhythmic clinking of the hammer clashing against the anvil had long stopped being unnerving. It was convenient, in its own way.
If it wasn't for it, Oscar and Andre would have been immersed in an uncomfortable silence that neither would know how to fill.
While the blacksmith was lost in his craft, Oscar had sought comfort and refuge inside his broken memories, hoping to come across images of better times, but he had only stumbled upon the code of the Astoran elite knights.
Out of all the memories that could have been spared, why had this one survived?
Had he really treasured his status as an elite knight more than his family and friends?
Those who had been dear to him were only faceless silhouettes. They existed somewhere inside his mind, but they had no identity or meaning attached to them.
Yet, the elite knight code had remained; clear, legible, whole. It wasn't until Oscar remembered it word by word that he realized how rooted its teachings were to the core of his very being.
Even when he thought he had forgotten about it, he had continued to act accordingly to it with blind devotion.
And now that it had resurfaced to the top of his mind, it served as a perpetual reminder of the gravity of his faults and sins.
Oscar had tried to silence his ears to the cruel voice of the code, but it was futile, no less impossible than ordering his heart to stop beating.
How?
Oscar pressed his forehead against his folded arms, resting right on top of one of his knees.
How can I forgive myself when I can't stop failing?
He clenched his fists and closed his eyes.
I couldn't even save you, Solaire. And now... I don't even know if you'll come back. I promised I would keep you safe. I was meant to protect you. It was my wish, my duty. You trusted me, and I failed you.
Oscar lifted his head slightly and covered his eyes with his hand.
Just like I failed the code.
His heartbeat throbbed in his temples and throat.
Just like I failed myself.
"Are you alright?" Andre ventured; his voice was briefly preluded by the pause of the ringing of the hammer.
Oscar reacted by looking directly at the blacksmith. His semblance of sympathy and concern nullified Oscar's grief and worries and transformed them into indifference.
A cold, convincing indifference that would keep his feelings concealed and safe.
"Yes." Oscar answered dryly, unsure of where exactly he stood with Andre.
Oscar had been unnecessarily hostile towards him and Siegmeyer. He had threatened them and accused them of treason, and he had come close to attack them.
Or worse.
Oscar knew he had only done so to protect Solaire, but that didn't make his actions feel any more justified or acceptable.
He had acted like a savage, like the half-Hollow he was meant to be; and for that, he had no excuse.
"Andre." Oscar swallowed. He knew it was necessary for him to say it; after all he had done, it was the least he could do; it was also what he needed to do the most. "What I said back there, the way I acted..."
Andre, who had been about to continue with his work, put down the hammer on the anvil and stared at Oscar.
"I apologize."
When the words finally escaped his mouth, Oscar discovered it had not only been his foolish pride which had made the process so difficult.
A part of him had dreaded to hear Andre's response.
"Yes, well... You did get a bit out of control. I thought you had gone Hollow for a moment. And these scratches you left in me?" Andre said, lifting his right arm. "I'm sure they are gonna leave some scars. Ah, it ain't so bad at all! It could be a good excuse to finally get my arm tattooed. I've been considering it for a few decades, you know? I just hope I can find a decent Undead artist around here. And if I don't, I can always ask my dear friend sir Onion!"
He punched his thigh and laughed with all the power of his lungs. He looked up, expecting to hear a reaction from Siegmeyer from upstairs, but he got no answer.
He then looked at Oscar again, but the knight gave him no reaction other than a puzzled look and an arched eyebrow.
"Oh, sod off." Andre said as he grabbed this hammer again. "You're no fun! You know, when someone tells a joke, the least you can do is fake a chuckle, Oscar. Just a tiny snort, or a subtle smile... anything to not make the other feel like an absolute—woah, easy there!"
Andre left behind his weapons and anvil and quickly made his way to Oscar. He managed to reach him just as Oscar's balance failed him. Though a part of Oscar was grateful for the help, he also resented Andre for his selfless assistance.
Now that he was so close to him, there was no way Oscar could escape to the bonfire upstairs.
"I know you want to stretch your legs, but don't be reckless, Oscar." Andre told him as he helped him sit down on the cold stone floor again. "It's always best to take it easy after being infused with Humanity. It's not exactly an easy process for one's mind and soul. Rest for a while more; if my conversation is annoying you, I can be quiet if you want... it's obvious my sense of humor is not as free of rust as my weapons."
"That's not the case." Oscar reassured the old blacksmith. "But I would still appreciate it if you helped me get to the bonfire, Andre. The closer I am to the flame, the faster I will heal. I thank you for allowing me to remain by your side after all I've done, but I think it would be best for both of us if you took me upstairs and—"
"No." The refusal was so definite and final that Oscar had not time to contradict Andre, and he gave him no chance to do so either. "I cannot let you get close to it, not until Solaire is reborn from its ashes. It's for your own good, trust me. Right now, you need to rest, and staring anxiously into the bonfire as you wait for Solaire's return will not do you any favors. Just take it easy for now, Oscar. Clear your mind. Give your soul the chance to heal."
With that said, Andre simply turned his back to Oscar. He returned to his usual place behind the anvil and continued with his work.
"I wasn't asking for your permission, Andre." Oscar told him, unable to contain his tongue. "I was asking for your help. I'm still going upstairs to the bonfire, whether you want it or not."
He took a deep breath and pressed his back against the wall, preparing his legs to carry his weight.
"Stop it, Oscar." Andre warned him, adding more power to his statement with a slam of his hammer. Sparks emerged from the clash of the hammer against the sword and the anvil. "I know that elite knights always feel entitled to impose their wills without anyone opposing them, but we are not in Astora, and I care not about your former rank at all. None of that matters here in Lordran, so you'd better cease with this lofty attitude before you get yourself hurt. Or someone else."
The sharp accusation kept Oscar glued to the floor.
"Go to hell." Oscar hissed, too angry to listen to reason, and too hurt to remain silent. "You know nothing about me."
"Perhaps, but I too am Astoran, and I know my fair share about the elite knights. You are all the same. That godforsaken code really transforms the lot of you into something dreadful. Just look at yourself."
"I do, all the time." Oscar chuckled with disdain, not directed at Andre, but at himself. "Trust me."
"Then why do you insist on behaving in such way when it causes nothing but pain for you and others?" Andre exclaimed, punching the anvil with his fist. The impact resonated across the room, with no less intensity it would have done if it had been born from the hammer. "Why do you cling to it still, Oscar?"
"You may be Astoran, Andre, but you are not an elite knight. If you truly knew of our code, you'd see how flawless it is. Strict, yes; but also necessary and pertinent. If it wasn't for it, Astora would have disappeared soon after the Dark Beast attacked."
"Spare me the history lesson, child. I was there when the monster assaulted our homeland. I know more of it than you think, just like I know how the codes of the elite knights changed afterwards. And it wasn't for the best."
Oscar glared at Andre, as if he was challenging him. The fact Andre was old enough to have lived in the flesh the assault of the Dark Beast had shocked him momentarily, but Oscar wasn't going to let Andre think his age made him any wiser than him, especially not when it came to the lifestyle and honor of the elite knights.
Even if Oscar no longer considered himself worthy of being called one, he held a deep respect for his former rank. Elite knights were not perfect, and perhaps they were far from being the heroes they thought they were, but neither were they dreadful nor vile.
"Astora survived because of the strength and courage of the elite knights." Oscar said, feeling a warm sensation of honor burning in his chest. "They carried the burden others couldn't. They sacrificed everything to ensure the survival of those who were too frail to defend themselves... and they continue to do so, to this very day."
"That they do, and for that, I admire them." Andre replied, softening his voice as if trying to give praise to Oscar.
Oscar didn't accept it, and he regretted his choice of words. They had made him look as if he was hungry for flattery and recognition.
Am I not?
Oscar's eyelids rose slightly at the thought.
Wasn't glory one of the main reasons he had coveted the idea of being the Chosen One foretold by the prophecy?
I'm a different man now.
Oscar frowned, sharpening his eyes before they could betray the moment of doubt that had clouded his mind.
"But the price, Oscar." Andre continued. "The toll those codes take on all of you, that's what changes you. I know it well... I know what it demands from you, of how it indoctrinates you to look down at your own humanity as a weakness, as a flaw to be ashamed of, all while forcing you to bear everyone's burdens as your own. Always strong, always in silence."
"And we... they do so with pride and honor. It's their duty and their privilege."
"And also, their greatest flaw." Andre finished for him. "Oscar, do you think you are the first Undead elite knight I've come across in this land? Don't flatter yourself, you're not so special. Now, don't take what I'm about to tell you as a personal attack. See it as a warning, if you may; as a piece of advice from your much older fellow Astoran."
"You can talk if you want, but I will not listen."
"Unless you have mastered the rather strange ability of deafening your ears at will, I'm afraid you have no choice."
Andre coughed and spat on the floor before he could continue. Oscar looked away, firmly decided to not look at the old fool at all, no matter what he said.
"You are not everyone's savior, Oscar." Andre said. "You cannot save everybody; you are not meant to. The deaths you witness, unless they are caused willingly by your own hand, are not your responsibility nor your failures. You are a skilled knight, but you are also just a man... just a pitiful human with a flawed heart; you are not an emotionless god nor a undefeatable hero, and that's not something you should be ashamed of, no matter what your codes say."
Oscar remained silent, still not daring to look at Andre.
If only the blacksmith knew how deeply his words were cutting. He felt as if he had struck him with his hammer, but Andre's weapon had remained untouched on the anvil.
"Many elite knights never accept this. They continue to play their role, and it doesn't take long for them to succumb to the horrors of Lordran."
"Do not talk ill of them." Oscar said, his face still turned to the opposite side. "An elite knight's glory and successes are never his to claim... we are all nameless warriors with a single duty: to protect the defenseless and share our strength with others. Nothing else matters to us."
"Oscar, I'm not mocking the elite knights at all. I am aware that they mean well, and that most of them have pure intentions. I know their sacrifices and deeds are not just meant to impress others and pander to their own egos. They truly think they are meant to be the hero of the people, that they are special, unique... as if everyone's fates depended on their actions."
Andre paused for a moment, perhaps expecting Oscar would look at him. After a moment of fruitless waiting, he continued. "But this is not true, it's not how the world works, especially not Lordran; so please, do not make the same mistake as those who came before you, Oscar. It will bring you nothing but unnecessary sorrow, and it could make you go Hollow, more than you already are."
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
Oscar had heard enough. He turned his head towards Andre. He was sick of the blacksmith's pretentious wisdom; the sooner he demanded a direct answer from him, the quicker he would shut him up.
"Am I meant to just stand still as those around me perish? Am I to admit that nothing I do matters at all? And then what? Do you want me to pat myself on the shoulder afterwards and say 'it was not my fault, there was nothing I could have done anyway'? That's too convenient, isn't it? It almost sounds like the perfect excuse for those too cowardly to try to make a real change in the world, and would rather rot away in their own meaningless pastimes."
"You twist my words and try to use them against me. I expected better from you, Oscar." Andre said.
To Oscar's surprise, he didn't sound angry or offended: if anything, he sounded disappointed.
"I never said you were meant to remain idle or that you should give up on your own dreams and ambitions. If helping those in need is your real call, then do it, Oscar. Help your friends, aid those too weak to save themselves, be the guide of the less experienced... do anything that makes you feel like you still have a purpose, but don't be so vain to think you are responsible for everyone else's happiness or survival. You already did that with Solaire, and it almost ended up with both of you going Hollow; you out of despair for not being able to keep him alive, and Solaire out of the agony that both his wound and your stubbornness caused him."
"I was helping my friend!" Oscar exclaimed. "Before we arrived here, Solaire almost went Hollow... it happened not long ago, and he still hadn't recovered completely from it. That's why I wanted to keep him alive no matter what. I was afraid that if I allowed him to die again, he wouldn't be able to—"
Oscar drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment to regain his composure. "You make it sound as if I was a monster. As if I had enjoyed watching him suffer or as if my pride was more important than his life... Andre, I could never do this to Solaire or anyone else. I am not that kind of man anymore."
"Anymore?" Andre asked. He was not being accusatory, only curious, but Oscar still felt as if he was being pointed out for his past deed at the Asylum.
Oscar did not find the will to continue. He wanted to leave the question forever unanswered.
But to do so would be cowardly.
"I've done horrible things, Andre. And I did them to the person that least deserved it."
He said quietly with a controlled voice.
"And it scares me, because If I dared to hurt an innocent that was only trying to help me, then what kind of man I really was back in Astora? I can't remember, but I couldn't have been good. I just couldn't. Solaire... he believes I'm a good person, but he's too blinded by my former status as an elite knight to see the truth. You are right, Andre; I'm not a hero... I'm just a pathetic, selfish man that was given a second chance. That's why, even if I'm not worthy of being an elite knight, I want to be worthy of the sacrifices others have made for me. I want to be a better man. I want to be the man Solaire and the Chosen Undead thought I was."
"It's alright, Oscar." Andre said mercifully. "You don't have to justify yourself to me. All Undead have a past, and you don't have to share yours with me if you don't want to. However, I want you to remember what I've told you. Lordran is a merciless place, and we Undead are cursed. Even if Solaire does come back this time, there will come a time when he won't. Him, you, me, Siegmeyer, and everyone else that has been branded by the Darksign will one day go Hollow... and there's nothing you can do about it; but it's not your fault, do you understand? No one's fortune is your responsibility or your burden to bear."
Oscar didn't react, but he did keep Andre's words inside him.
A brittle silence followed; while it wasn't uncomfortable, it felt unfinished, like an abruptly stopped conversation.
Andre once again took the matter into his hands and eased the tension between them with the sound of his hammer.
"I disagree." The blacksmith suddenly commented, just as Oscar was starting to believe there was nothing left to say.
"About what?" Oscar ventured, with the faint hope that a casual conversation could be born from the question.
"About you." Andre lifted the sword from the anvil; it was an Astoran straight sword, identical to the one Oscar had lost at the Asylum. He gently put it next to the rest of his finished weapons and then placed Oscar's crest shield on the anvil, assessing the damage and figuring out the best way to restore it. "I don't know you, that is true; but from what I've seen so far, I find it difficult to imagine you were half the bad person you think you were."
"Like you said, you don't know me." Oscar answered, his voice free of animosity.
"I've met some awful people in all my time here, Oscar. The worst of scum." Andre said, polishing the crest shield. "And you're not one of them. Not at all."
Oscar nodded at the assertion. He did so to inform Andre he had heard him, not to imply he agreed with him.
Andre replied in the same manner. He was about to return his attention to the shield on the anvil when the sizzling murmur of the bonfire upstairs intensified.
He and Oscar looked up at the same time.
A thump on the wooden floor followed, together with Siegmeyer's newly awakened and joyful voice.
"Hmm? Hmm... yes, there's no doubt about it." Siegmeyer announced after a long and thoughtful examination. "This shield is indeed half melted!"
Before Solaire could say anything, Siegmeyer handed the shield to him. "Here you go!"
"Thank you." Solaire grabbed the shield with his now perfectly healed hand. He secured it on his back and smiled back at Siegmeyer.
A foolish gesture, given that his heaume concealed his face from his friend.
"Well, I believe that's the last of them." Siegmeyer stretched his back until it cracked. "We've already found your helmet, your sword, and your shield... was there something else you left behind, Solaire? Come now, there's no need to be shy! I swear on my honor as a knight of Catarina that I shall not rest until I have helped you recover all your belongings!"
"No, that was all."
"Are you sure, Solaire? You sound upset. Hmm... Wait, I know. I was too brusque with your helmet, wasn't I? Dammit, I knew I shouldn't have picked it up from its feather! I have failed you, I truly have."
"Oh dear, I'm not upset or angry about that at all!" Solaire quickly said before Siegmeyer could start with one of his overly exaggerated apologies. "I'm just a bit tired from... you know, having raised from the ashes."
The incident was nothing short of embarrassing for him, and had it not been for his heaume, Siegmeyer would have seen the flush of blood that turned Solaire's face crimson.
"Oh, yes. Understandable." Siegmeyer replied, his voice back to normal, free of any dramatic tone. "Well, in that case, let's head back. Now that we retrieved all your equipment, Andre can fix it up for you. He can be quite a stingy bastard with his fares, but his work is worth it. Don't worry friend, your shield will be as good as new soon."
He gave Solaire a pat on the back before continuing his way towards the old church. He put his greatsword on his shoulder and began to whistle, completely lost in the calmness of his stroll.
Solaire doubted Siegmeyer would have noticed his absence if he had hadn't called out for him before he got too far away.
"Wait!"
"Hmm?" Siegmeyer turned around. "Oh... Oh, Solaire!"
He ran towards him, his armor pouncing over his body at his every movement.
"What is it? Can't you walk? Yes, of course. It's only natural you're still exhausted. Being reborn is never easy!" Siegmeyer turned his back and Solaire and knelt in front of him, much to Solaire's confusion. "Hop on, friend! There's nothing to be ashamed of. If it makes you feel better, I've been carried around like this thousands of times, and not once have I felt embarrassed because of it. I'm not sure my wife and daughter share the sentiment, though..."
"Siegmeyer, I don't want to go back."
Solaire spoke before he could regret it or lost the courage to say it out loud. Siegmeyer slowly stood up and faced Solaire, his head slightly tilted, his round helmet touching the plate of his shoulder.
He grabbed his helmet and removed the upper part, exposing his face to Solaire for the first time. Solaire didn't know how to explain it, but Siegmeyer looked just as he had imagined him.
"Why not?" he inquired, his brushy eyebrows joined in a frown. "Oh, I see. Solaire, I assure you that neither I nor Andre think less of you because of your death! By the Lords, we are all Undead here, aren't we? We wouldn't be doing justice to the title if we didn't die every now and then."
He laughed, in the same boisterous manner so proper of the people of Catarina. Solaire tried to join him, but he couldn't even muster a chuckle, not without it sounding exceedingly fake. Siegmeyer eventually calmed down after noticing Solaire's unchanging mood.
With a more serious tone, he added, "It's not about that, is it?"
"No, not really. I'm ashamed for having died a death so unnecessary, but it's not yours or Andre's judgement which worries me."
"I find that a bit offensive... but quite understandable at the same time." Siegmeyer said, putting his greatsword on the floor together with the upper half of his helmet. He folded his arms. "Hmm... does it have to do with Oscar, then?"
Solaire didn't answer, but his silence was everything Siegmeyer needed to know he was correct.
"Hmm, yes. I can see why you don't want to meet him again. No wonder you were so eager to leave the church as soon as you were reborn! Oscar is quite the strict and ruthless man, isn't he? Now, I don't mean to be unfair to him, but I too would be afraid of his reaction if I were you."
"Oh, no. He's not ruthless at all. On the contrary, he is selfless and very understanding, if a bit stubborn. Very stubborn, but he is a good man."
"A good man can still be strict to a fault; but maybe this is to be expected from an elite knight. Judging by the crest on his shield and tunic, he is one, isn't he? I must confess I have never been too fond of them. They are so overbearing and relentless. I'm sure they mean well, but— Oh, look at me! Rambling and badmouthing your fellow Astoran! I'm sorry Solaire; my thoughts have a will of their own."
"You are right." Solaire agreed, removing his helmet as well. "I don't have the best of experiences with elite knights either, but Oscar is Oscar."
"Yes, of course." Siegmeyer looked down for a second. "Forgive me, Solaire. I should know better than to judge someone's character for something as irrelevant as their rank. Perhaps I am being too harsh with him. He was a bit out of control, but he was genuinely worried about you, Solaire. I'm glad you managed to find such a loyal a friend in this cruel land... other than me, of course!"
"I am lucky indeed to have found such brave and trusty companions." Solaire smiled. It wasn't that he had never appreciated his friends, but it wasn't until then that he realized how fortunate he had been for having found people like Oscar, Siegmeyer and Andre in a land where people like Patches and Petrus also existed.
"You flatter me!" Siegmeyer said humbly, though Solaire could see how pleased he actually was with the compliment. "In that case, let's go back! I'm sure Oscar is eager to see—"
"No." Solaire said, no less affected by the whiplash of his tone. "I can't go back, Siegmeyer. I cannot go back and face Oscar, not after proving I'm not worthy of his time."
"What?" Siegmeyer folded his arms again. "Hmm... I can't say I am understanding what you are trying to say, Solaire. First, you claim you appreciate Oscar as a friend; but then, you say you don't want to see him again! Because you are not worthy of his time? Such nonsense! Did he ever tell you this?"
"No, but—"
"Did he make you feel that way?"
"No! I mean... perhaps a little, but I know he was just trying to protect me. I see that clearly now."
"Then? What's the real reason, Solaire?"
"I'm an idiot, Siegmeyer." Solaire replied, with an uncharacteristic harshness in his voice that caught Siegmeyer off guard. "That's the reason why I died! It was mere luck I didn't drag Oscar together with me. If I had acted like a real knight in the first place and not like some awestruck squire trying to impress a lord, none of this would have happened."
"Calm down, Solaire." Siegmeyer spoke with more authority than before. Unlike Oscar's, his voice was more tender, but not less imposing. "I won't be able to understand you unless you explain everything to me."
He sat down on the floor, the same spot where Solaire had been about to be killed by a Hollow. He crossed his legs and spread his arm forward. "Sit with me and tell me everything. Don't you worry, I won't' fall asleep this time."
Solaire obeyed, greatly relieved and thankful to Siegmeyer for his willingness to hear him out.
He told him everything; from all that happened in Firelink Shrine to the moment the Hellkite dragon had almost burned them down to ashes.
Siegmeyer listened in silence, and his occasional comments and question were quick and simple, easily answered with a word or two.
Once Solaire was finished, he felt lighter and more focused, but to his chagrin, he realized his reluctance to meet Oscar again had only slightly diminished.
"Hmm, I see." Siegmeyer put a hand under his chin and pondered for a long time. "So Oscar doesn't know you've lost all your miracles?"
"No. I wanted to tell him before we left Firelink Shrine, but I couldn't. I did not want to burden him with my problems. I was meant to be his travelling companion, not a dead weight for him."
"You were careless, Solaire." Siegmeyer stated.
It was well deserved and fair, but Solaire still felt a deep sting at the pointing of his mistakes. He said nothing and accepted the reprimand with an absolute and respectful silence.
"If Oscar is disappointed in you, it wouldn't be without reason. Not only did you not let him know of your lack of miracles, but you allowed your enthusiasm to blind you to the lethal dangers of this land... just as it blinded you to the other path you could have taken to reach the parish. The lower passage under the bridge. Had you taken this road, the dragon would not have been able to harm you."
"What?" Solaire couldn't stop the question from escaping his lips.
"On the right side of the bridge. A set of stairs. You didn't see them, did you?"
Solaire's guilt and shame for his foolishness reached a whole new level. Not only his death and the situation he had put Oscar through had been unnecessary, it had also been completely avoidable.
Did Oscar know this? Had he seen the optional path, but had decided to keep silent about it so that Solaire wouldn't feel like even more of a fool?
That most probably had been the case. Though strict and authoritative, Oscar was not cruel. It would be a lot like him to keep such details secret from Solaire in order to not make him feel incompetent or downright stupid.
Is this why he also never said anything about my skills? It's not that he's not impressed by them... but rather that he is so utterly embarrassed by my display that he prefers to not say nothing at all?
"And about the fact he has never commented about your skills... that's not his responsibility, Solaire. Receiving praise is a wonderful thing for a knight, don't get me wrong, but it shouldn't be the main reason behind our actions. It's not a fair thing to do to yourself, either. Do your skills and prowess mean nothing unless they are acknowledged by someone else? What about you? Do you really think so little of your own opinion?"
"Oscar... he actually called me an outstanding knight. Sure, it was before he even saw me in a proper fight, but still, he did." Solaire reminisced.
"And I'm sure he meant it. I doubt he is the kind of man that goes around throwing meaningless compliments to everyone he meets. You have his approval, Solaire. Do you think he would allow you to accompany him otherwise?"
"No." Solaire replied.
"Then, why—"
"Because no one else had ever said something similar to me before. I never thought I would receive such praise, even less from an elite knight. It felt good, to finally have my skills recognized. And I guess..."
Solaire couldn't bring himself to finish. It was unnecessary. There was no doubt Siegmeyer had understood.
It was childish, the whole thing. Solaire had always knew it, but now that he had recapitulated everything out loud, it was all the more obvious; but the need of further recognition had also been a natural reaction of his heart.
He was vain, in a way all knights were. Solaire had always thought this aspect of his personality was faint and under his complete control; he never would have thought he could be so easily overcome by it, especially not because of a single compliment.
"I was weak. I let it go to my head." He admitted to Siegmeyer. "What kind of knight am I?"
"Of the kind that makes mistakes. In other words, you are no different than the rest." Siegmeyer replied even though Solaire had not expected an answer. "Oh my friend, you are being awfully hard on yourself! Yes, you were careless, immature even, but that doesn't mean you've failed as a knight. Just be sure to learn from this and do better next time. It really is that simple."
"If that's the case, then why have I improved so little after all the mistakes I've made?" Solaire asked, his eyes fixed on the floor. "If what you said was really so simple, then I would be the most lethal and skilled of knights by now."
"I said it was simple, not that it was easy. And again, I think you are being unfair to yourself. If you truly had never gotten better or learned from your previous failures, you wouldn't be here right now."
Siegmeyer patted Solaire's head. The gesture made him feel like a child being comforted by his father.
"Keep your mistakes in mind, not as mementos of your failures, but as reminders of how you can improve. I'm sure you already know all this. You are, after all, a full-fledged knight, and a Warrior of Sunlight too! You merely were in need of some chiding... as we all are, from time to time, and I'm no exception. My wife and daughter would agree on this, I'm sure."
Siegmeyer laughed again. This time, Solaire joined him, only with a subtle chuckle that was easily drowned by the other's cackle, but that was still genuine and heartfelt
"So," Siegmeyer said as soon as his laughter ceased. He put the other half of his helmet on and picked up his greatsword. He stood up and offered his hand to Solaire, "are you ready to go back now? Andre is eager to meet you."
Slowly, Solaire raised his hand towards Siegmeyer's. The Catarina knight grabbed his hand before Solaire could hesitate and helped him up.
"And I know Oscar is waiting for you too."
The battle was over. The headless demon had been a greater challenge that Oscar had expected, but he had come out victorious.
Yet, for some reason, his victory felt empty and unfulfilling.
He swung his new Astoran straight sword to clean it off from the demon's disgusting grime. Andre had done a marvelous work. The weapon was light, its edges sharp and strong. It was lethal despite its unimpressive appearance.
It had not been easy for Oscar to convince the blacksmith to allow him to take the sword, but in the end, Andre had agreed to it, but only under the condition that Oscar would also take a shield with him, even if it wasn't his trusted crest shield.
It was a small condition; one Oscar had no problem in conceding. He had picked a sturdy wooden shield; then, he had gone to face the headless demon in the hall just in front of Andre's workshop. Though the blacksmith had opposed the idea at first, he had eventually allowed Oscar to do as he wished.
Perhaps he had concluded that keeping a restless Oscar sitting in one place against his will for too long was far more counterproductive than letting him blow off some steam in battle.
Or maybe he had just gotten sick of Oscar's headstrong manners.
Oscar wasn't sure, and at that moment, he didn't care.
He had thought everything would seem clearer after the thrill of battle, but he felt no less flustered and frustrated than before. His mind had found little peace in the defeat of the monster.
Instead, all his thoughts were still fixed in how much Solaire's reaction had upset him.
After his revival, he had not wished to see Oscar again. Siegmeyer had tried to soften the matter, claiming that Solaire was quite worried about his lost equipment, and that he wanted to retrieve it before he did anything else.
A sensible choice, one that would have deceived Oscar if he didn't' know Solaire so well.
It was painfully obvious to Oscar that it was all only an excuse to prolong their meeting. It was also a confirmation of his fears.
Solaire deeply resented him.
Oscar couldn't blame him.
He had treated him as his squire, not as his fellow knight; and what was worse, he had forced him to endure an excruciating amount pain for longer than necessary.
It had been only because of Solaire's strength of will that he had been able to keep the Hollowing away. Oscar had not helped the situation in any way; on the contrary, he had unnecessarily complicated everything.
In his blind need to keep Solaire safe, he had almost made him lose his mind to the pain.
Andre was right about everything. Oscar could finally accept it now.
He felt humbled, and for a moment, humiliated, but the latter sentiment quickly faded from his heart; Oscar only wished Solaire would grant him the chance to apologize.
He looked at the dead creature before it faded away into nothingness. It left behind a piece of titanite. Oscar picked it up and wondered if it could serve as a peace offering for Solaire.
I cannot stay here and just wait to for him.
Oscar put away the rare material on his bag.
I have to go to him and apologize. I have to take this matter into my own hands... and accept the consequences. If I can't face my friend, how can I expect to confront the dangers of this land?
It was settled.
Oscar took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it.
Strange, how he was far more nervous about reuniting with Solaire than he had ever been during his battle against the faceless demon.
He had just regained a sense of peace when the echo of the steps behind reached him.
"Alright, alright." Oscar said, mentally rolling his eyes. "I'll go back in a moment, Andre. You don't have to drag me there yourself. One time was enough."
"Oh, well... yes, I can see where your coming from, Oscar. I too would not like Andre to carry me around like a sack of seeds. With those arms of his, I'd be scared he'd snapped me in half by accident."
Oscar felt as if all his insides were pulled down to the floor. He turned around, and Solaire greeted him with a timid smile. He was playing with his hands, rubbing them endlessly.
"But he's not a bad guy at all, is he? And he's from Astora too! What are the chances?"
Solare laughed under his breath. Not unaware of how uncomfortable his friend was feeling, Oscar forced himself to smile. As silence was once again brewing between then, Oscar decided to keep the conversation alive.
"Did you manage to find all your equipment?"
"Yes. Siegmeyer helped me. Andre is repairing it right now. He said my sword and heaume are easy work... my shield, on the other hand, will take a bit more of time. He also said such work wouldn't be cheap; but that's alright. I have enough souls to pay him."
"He's not the most generous of blacksmiths, is he? With his fares, one would think he crafts his weapons for the gods themselves. Perhaps we should persuade him to give us a special discount exclusive to Astorans."
"That sounds tempting, but it wouldn't be fair for Siegmeyer, would it?"
"Well, what he doesn't know can't hurt him."
"Oscar!"
"Alright, alright. We'll pay him like the honest and rightful Undead we are."
A shared laughter. Gentle, brief, but also calming.
It was Solaire who spoke again, and Oscar could guess by his expression what he intended to say.
Oscar thought for a second of stopping him, and to tell him that he had no need at all to apologize. He couldn't.
He didn't blame Solaire, but neither he considered fair to deny him the chance to express his regrets.
Oscar would not have liked it if Solaire had played that same card on him; he would have felt as if he was being patronized, not understood.
Solaire was a knight, in no way inferior to him, regardless of the ranks they had been assigned back in Astora. It was about time Oscar treated him as such.
He would hear him out, respectfully and in silence, and only after Solaire had finished would Oscar proceed with his own apology.
Solaire began to talk. At first, Oscar worried of what true outcome would come out from this moment, but vanished that fear.
He could only hope it would all turn out fine.
He believed it would.
"Are they ready?"
"Aye. An Astoran armor and crest shield, just like those worn and wielded by the elite knights of old."
"Marvelous work. Your craft is impeccable, worth every soul you demand for it."
She spread her arms and waited for the old blacksmith to handed over to her the equipment. The man however, stood idly by, staring at the armor and the shield with a wistful look in his eyes.
"Is something the matter?"
"No... I'm fine. Forgive me, lady." The blacksmith gave her the garments and the shield. He wiped a tear off his eyes with the blackened thumb of his glove. "I was merely remembering a friend I met long ago, that's all."
"Do not be ashamed of your feelings. A prominent sentimentality was, after all, one of Astora's most laudable traits, for both the nation itself and its people. It should not be a source of shame, especially not for a native Astoran such as you, master Andre."
She left before the blacksmith could ask her anything, hoping that her words had been of some comfort for the old man.
A trait born from an abundance of emotion; an affluence of emotion bred by overflowing darkness. A trait that must not be forgotten.
She clutched the armor and the shield to her breast.
A trait that our chosen has a sharp affinity for.