"So, it happens again."

The tolling of the bell still echoed across the abyss.

Frampt's snoring became a series of confused growls.

Though he couldn't see him, Kaathe knew his traitorous brethren had sensed it too, no matter how deep in sleep he was.

Strange, how easily they both reacted to the vibrations and chimes of an old bell, as if their mere being were tied to it with an unbreakable chain.

"A meaningless feat." He scoffed. "The first bell means nothing, for it is the second which has long remained silent and untouched."

It was during their journey to the second bell where all of Frampt's potential Chosen Undeads failed. Sometimes they turned back, overwhelmed by fear; at other times, they simply lost interest and gave up on their quest.

Most of the times however, they went Hollow, either after countless deaths or because of the grief and disappointment they found along their travels.

The little Undead that had rung the bell this time would be no different.

Kaathe was sure of it.

Yet, he was also restless, as if a part of him knew that, this time, the pitiful Undead that had fallen for Frampt's deceit would be successful.

"This could be... problematic." Kaathe said. The little Hollow inside his mouth had fallen asleep again.

Such a lazy and irreverent fool.

Kaathe felt the flashing need to scold them for their overly carefree nature, but he was too absorbed in thought to really care about correcting his chosen one's behavior.

"This Undead, the ringer of the bell." Kaathe mused to himself, as he always did. "Call it an old serpent's intuition, but... Little Hollow, you know it too, do you not? This Undead. This man."

"Oscar." The Hollow whispered not to Kaathe, but to the dear memories that so constantly invaded their mind and filled their soul with overflowing fondness.

"Indeed." Kaathe said.

Frampt, no longer as deeply affected by his heavy slumber, tried to speak the name as it resonated across the darkness, but his tongue, so used to his senseless blabbering, could only form the name he had so endlessly repeated ever since the foolish king had defied nature and prolonged his decadent age.

"Chosen Undead."

"Are you ready?" Oscar asked Solaire.

His fellow knight stood not too far away from him, with his sunlight sword and round shield readily prepared for a fight.

Oscar wielded his crest shield and new straight sword, as decided and bravely as he did when facing an enemy.

"Yes."

From behind the slit of his heaume, Oscar could see Solaire's blue eyes gleaming with thrill.

Despite his enthusiasm, Solaire was taking it seriously, and Oscar would not disrespect his diligent disposition.

He would treat him like a worthy opponent.

He would show him no mercy.

"Then let's begin."

Solaire did not waste a second and charged at Oscar. The old tiles of the church's roof were a tricky surface, and one false step could prove lethal, but their battle against the gargoyles had been a good lesson for both Oscar and Solaire on how to keep their pace firm and steady.

Solaire raised his sword, his fist tightly clenched around its handle.

Oscar moved one leg backwards and prepared his shield, readying himself to resist Solaire's attack.

He calculated his movements, but once the sunlight sword clashed against the shield, Oscar became fully aware of the true magnitude of Solaire's power.

Solaire had not hold back.

And neither would Oscar.

Despite his impressive display, Solaire's strength could not defeat Oscar's technique, and his sunlight sword was effortlessly parried by the blue crest shield.

Stunned and exposed, Solaire could only watch as Oscar plunged a lethal riposte directly towards his chest.

"Wait!" Solaire exclaimed, but Oscar did not stop.

Oscar's ruthless riposte changed its direction in the last second, and instead of piercing Solaire's heart, it passed right through the open space right between his arm and body, cutting nothing but air.

Even then, Oscar's attack did not stop, and he pushed his crest shield against Solaire's chest and brought him down. Solaire's back hit the surface with little gentleness, with many of the tiles breaking and shattering under his weight and the pressure Oscar kept putting onto him with his shield.

Oscar's straight sword stabbed the roof and became stuck in the mixture of broken stone and rotten wood.

"You are dead, Solaire." Oscar said to his defeated friend, without any sign of sympathy in his voice. "Or you would be, if I was your enemy."

Oscar freed his sword from the roof and got back on his feet. Solaire let out a cough once the oppressive pressure of the crest shield departed from his body.

Oscar gave him a moment to catch his breath.

"Alright, demonstration time is over." Oscar offered Solaire his hand. "Now it's your turn to try to parry my attacks."

"By the gods, Oscar..." Solaire said, still not quite recovered, accepting Oscar's aid to get back on his feet.

Oscar recoiled at his tone.

Had he been too strict in his method?

He was not blind to the severity of his teachings, but Oscar knew well that the deadlier the technique being taught, the harsher the teaching process had to be.

It was not only a good way to show how the technique worked in real combat, but it also served as a warning of the dire consequences it could have if not properly learned or performed.

Oscar had asked Solaire to take their friendly sparring session as seriously as a duel to the death. After some hesitation, Solaire had accepted the condition, but it seemed Oscar had taken it too far.

"I'm sorry, Solaire." Oscar said humbly as Solaire dusted off his tunic from both sides. "It got out of hand. I did not mean to scare you."

"Scare me? What are you talking about?" Solaire replied with a jolly tone that put Oscar's regrets to rest. He held his sunlight sword and shield in one hand and removed his heaume with the other.

The smile he gave to Oscar was as full of admiration as his eyes. "Oscar, that was incredible! The way you moved, how you repelled my sword, your riposte... No wonder you were chosen to be part of the elite knights. I'm in awe, I really am."

"It was nothing special." Oscar said, unable to repress a flustered laugh as he slowly removed his helmet. "Parrying is a technique that requires practice and diligent training, but it's also rather intuitive once you've become familiar with it. You'll get the hand of it in no time, I'm sure of it."

"You have too much faith in me, my friend." Solaire chuckled with poorly concealed diffidence. "Oscar, I thank you for being so willing to teach me how to parry correctly, but I don't think I have what it takes to learn this. You have seen how poorly the results are whenever I try to parry our enemies' attacks during battle... I wouldn't want to waste your time. My skills are simply not up to par."

"You sound too awfully convinced about this." Oscar said, and wondered if he had reopened old wounds in Solaire's heart.

After ringing the bell, Oscar had taken some time before returning to Solaire. He only did so once his eyes no longer felt sore from his crying and his breathing no longer stuttered in bubbling sobs.

Putting himself back together must have taken much longer than Oscar had considered, for when he made it back to the roof, he no longer found Solaire lost in his enthusiastic praising of the sun.

Instead, at some point, Solaire had started practicing the casting of his miracles. Oscar had watched him from afar for a while, not wanting his presence to break Solaire's focus. He had only intervened once Solaire had dropped to his knees and punched the roof in frustration, leaving behind a hole in the roof the size of his fist.

Oscar had not been harsh in his judgement of Solaire's anger, and in spite of how much Solaire tried to hide the amount of chagrin the loss of his miracles caused him, Oscar had noticed his distress ever since the moment Solaire had confessed everything about the subject to him.

Warriors of Sunlight often prided themselves in their mastery of powerful miracles, the Sunlight Spear above all. It was their symbol, their pride; to not be able to cast it was an undeniable blow to their honor, and it could hinder them considerably during battle.

Oscar wished his own talent with miracles was greater so that he could help Solaire, but his true skill laid in the mastery of weapons, especially of swords.

He couldn't give Solaire his miracles back, but he could teach him a technique that would compensate for his loss and give him an extra edge in combat; a technique many knights praised but not many had the patient to perfect.

He had thought the offer would lift Solaire's spirits too, and perhaps even restore his bruised faith, which eventually would help him with the recovery of all his miracles.

At first, Oscar had thought he had been correct, as Solaire had immediately become childishly excited at the idea of sparring with him.

But now, it all seemed like a big mistake.

Oscar almost became disheartened by the change of mood, but for Solaire's sake, he couldn't allow himself to lose hope.

"Why is that, Solaire?" Oscar asked, gently but firmly. "Why are you so sure you won't be able to learn how to parry? As I said, it's a difficult technique, and you won't master it immediately, but eventually, you will. You need only be patient."

"Oscar, I'm not being self-pitying or falsely humble." Solaire looked away, directly at the sun. "I've got many years of evidence that confirm I'm not capable of this. I've tried, I really have, but I'm terrible at it and... trust me, I'm not the only one who thinks the same."

Solaire tried to laugh the whole matter off, but Oscar stopped him before he could get away with it.

"Who else agreed with you in this, then? The elite knights back in Astora?"

The question was gelid, and it tore apart Solaire's feign smile and good mood into shreds. When he looked at Oscar again, he looked baffled and embarrassed.

"Yes."

The answer took Oscar off guard. He knew he had been correct in his suspicions, but he hadn't expected Solaire to actually confirm it so firmly.

How much harm did we elite knights cause to others?

Oscar thought, his mind equally curious and scaref of the lost memories the Hollowing had taken from him.

Were we saviors or tyrants?

"They often said I would never become a worthy knight, but I don't blame them. What they said was true." Solaire continued. "I'm not greatly skilled. I have made the most out of my scarce talent with daily training, even when I was never formally instructed, and I think I have managed to become a decent knight on my own right, but I'm not above average, Oscar. I'm not like you. I know my limitations, and—"

"Drop your sword and shield, Solaire."

"What?"

"You heard me." Oscar replied, doing the same with his own equipment, together with his helmet. "Put your sword and shield down on the floor."

Solaire, puzzled as he was, did as Oscar told him. After carefully freeing himself of his weapons and helmet, he waited for Oscar's next command.

Oscar wasted no time and went to Solaire's side.

"Lift your arms just in front of your face." Oscar said while also helping Solaire get his arms in the right distance and position. "Just like this. Good."

"Oscar, what's going on?"

"You're going to try to parry my punches." Oscar explained, getting himself into position. "If you fail to stop my attacks correctly, I'm not going to stop and I'm still going to hit you. If you manage to parry me, then you must counterattack without hesitating, as if you were performing a riposte. Think of your arms as your sword and shield. Let's begin."

"Wait."

Oscar did not, and his fist aimed directly at Solaire's face. Solaire reacted, but he only managed to divert Oscar's attack slightly with his forearm. Oscar's knuckles touched Solaire's cheek, not with enough force to leave a mark, but it did make him hiss.

"You half blocked my attack, but it still went through. It didn't do as much harm as it could have, but neither did you have the chance to perform a riposte or keep yourself free of injury." Oscar said before Solaire had the chance to properly react to what had happened.

"Let's say I had attacked you with a poisoned weapon; the effects would have been greatly reduced. Likewise, if I had shot an arrow at you, you would have repelled it. This is known as a partial parry. It happens when you react too soon to your opponents' attacks, either because of a miscalculation on your part, or because you were caught off guard and your first instinct was to parry instead of attacking."

"I... yes." Solaire, though at first seemingly upset by Oscar's sudden lesson, was now carefully listening to his every word. "I see."

"Some say partial parrying is an imperfect version of the real thing, while others argue it's a complete technique on its own right. Thankfully, we are knights, not scholars, so we needn't worry ourselves with these sorts of academic debates without an answer, so just keep in mind the consequences and benefits you'd get by performing it during battle. Now."

Oscar again grabbed Solaire's arm, the one he was using as his shield, and pressed his elbow with both of his palms.

"Relax. You're putting too much tension here. You'll only get your arm tired without reason and you'll severely hinder your stamina. Parrying is not all about strength, it's about precision and timing. Trust your body, Solaire. It will react faithfully to your commands; it is your opponent's reactions you must be worried about. Let's give it another try; this time, you'll have a better chance to watch my movements and calculate your reactions before you try to parry me. Are you ready? "

Solaire nodded. He looked slightly overwhelmed, but Oscar was confident that practice would help make the theory easier to understand.

He threw another punch. Solaire repelled it once more, but the results were no different than his last attempt.

A small bruise began to show on Solaire's cheek, but he gave no signs of being bothered by it. If anything, the look on his eyes betrayed that any disappointment he was feeling in that moment was because of his null improvement.

"That was awful, wasn't it?" he asked, scratching the back of his head.

"Forget about all that, Solaire." Oscar told him sternly. "You are practicing the basics. Good, bad, awful, perfect, none of those terms matter right now. I'm assessing your skills and technique to know where you can improve, I'm not judging them to mock you. Stop worrying about what I may think of you or what those fools told you back in Astora. They hurt you, and I can only imagine how despicable they... we could be, but don't limit your own potential just because of it."

"It's hard to further limit a potential that's already limited to begin with."

"Stop. Don't give me that excuse again. I'm more talented than you; you are deprived of any natural skill. Maybe the gods liked me better when I was born, maybe my blood is more refined, maybe I'm just lucky, maybe it's because of all those reasons. I'll agree with you on this, since you seem to believe it with all your heart. So what, Solaire? Even if all this was true, it's not a good reason for you to not even properly try."

"I've told you, Oscar." Solaire said, his voice at the edge of exasperation. "I have tried to perfect my parry before. Time after time, but I've never been able to make any progress."

"And just like you've said, you've never received formal training or lessons. Well, what do you think we're doing right now?"

Solaire's expression went blank.

"Oscar." Solaire put down his arms, his eyes wide open. "Is this the same training you underwent? Is this the training proper of an elite knight?"

"It is." Oscar replied. "I was wrong, Solaire. The hardest of techniques are not meant to be taught so harshly, they need to be learned step by step. First, we'll start with your body and reflexes, with no weapons other than our fists; then, we'll be perfecting the technique with weapons especially made for parrying, such as bucklers and daggers; after that, you'll have to get used to parrying with your own equipment; all of this you will practice with me. Once you have become used to it in training, you'll slowly try to implement parrying into your battle style during real confrontations. It'll take time, but I know you can do this. I mean it, Solaire."

"But what if I don't? What if I never get the hang of it? I'm not trying to be pessimistic... but I'm not so naïve as to think that constant effort always leads to success."

"True, it doesn't." Oscar agreed. "Solaire, this is your choice. It's fine if you don't want to learn how to parry. We can focus on the recovery of your miracles instead. I'm not an expert when it comes to them, but I'll do everything in my power to help you. Whatever you choose, we'll figure it out together, alright? I just—"

Oscar had to bite his tongue to keep the words from flowing.

I don't want you to lose more faith in yourself.

He looked at Solaire, who was deep in thought, his arms folded on his chest, his eyes fixed on the floor.

I don't want you to go Hollow.

"Teach me, Oscar."

The answer filled Oscar with relief and pride alike. Solaire touched the bruise on his cheek and smiled.

"I'll keep trying to make my miracles work again. I'll find a way to heal my faith and be the true Warrior of Sunlight I'm supposed to be, but I also would be honored if you taught me more about parrying. To learn from an elite knight like you... no, not an elite knight. You are not just an elite knight to me. Nothing would make me happier than to learn from my friend. Even if it means I have to endure small bruises like this one... You are a tough instructor, Oscar."

"You can deal with it. Besides, you can get your revenge on me anytime, all you need to do is parry one of my attacks and then you can make me pay for my heartless teaching methods. Huh, this could actually be a good motivation to keep you focused, don't you think?"

"Normally, I would be against such vengeful motivations, as they go against all I stand for; then again... you did punch me pretty hard."

"You can always count on me to keep you inspired, Solaire." Oscar said with a mocking smirk as he took out his Estus flask and poured some of it on a small piece of cloth.

He pressed against Solaire's cheek, keeping it in place until Solaire raised his own hand to hold it by himself. "Then it's settled. Well then, let's practice some more, but not here. Let's go back to the old church. The room where I slain the faceless demon would be a perfect place to practice. Besides, I'm sure Andre could sell a dagger and a buckler to us... not to a fair price, of course, but unless you know of another blacksmith nearby, he is our only choice."

"Oh, don't try to hide it, Oscar! You want to see him again and tell him all about the ringing of the bell, don't you? You needn't be so humble about it. After all, what you just did is nothing short of impressive."

Solaire exclaimed as he picked up all his equipment and covered his head with his trusty heaume.

"I'm happy for you, Oscar." Solaire put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad I got to meet you, I'm glad our fates became intertwined. This is not how I planned my journey across Lordran to unfold, but now, despite all that's happened, I wouldn't want it to be any other way."

Oscar did not know what to say in return. How he wished he could see the world and accept his own fate with the same openness as Solaire. He made it seem so simple, and had Oscar been a meaner man, he would have felt envious of his friend's uncomplicated heart.

But it's not easy for you, is it? This acceptance is not something you simply feel, it's an attitude you constantly practice. Daily, dutifully, with all your heart... Solaire, I promise, our training sessions will be nothing compared to this.

"I feel the same, Solaire." Oscar finally said, putting his helmet back on and retrieving his equipment from the floor. "I really do."

With that, they were ready to depart from the church's floor and go back to Andre's workshop. Though Oscar hadn't admitted it, a part of him did feel eager to share his moment of glory with the old blacksmith, and with Siegmeyer as well, if the proud Catarina knight still happened to be around the area.

There was satisfaction in the rejoicing of his and Solaire's victory with others, but there was also comfort in the idea of a small celebration among friends.

Oscar knew it was perhaps too soon to call Siegmeyer and Andre friends, especially after the way he had acted towards them. He had apologized, and they both had forgiven him without a second thought, but he still needed to show them a better side of himself.

A small feeling of impatience burned inside his chest. Suddenly, the idea seemed all the more engaging.

The company of a group of friends, brought together to celebrate their latest victory. Free of tension, free of problems, with nothing but a moment of shared camaraderie, warm food and refreshing brew to share and enjoy together.

Simple pleasures, small pleasures Oscar hadn't realized how much he truly missed it until that moment, when the shards of his broken memories offered him tiny samples of related memories of his past.

It was ridiculous for an Undead to long for pleasures and luxuries exclusive to the living, but Oscar still did, and he knew Solaire did too. Even if they were no longer alive, they were still human.

His humanity was something Oscar was determined to never allow the Darksign to take away from him, and he would protect that of his friends too.

Andre, I know this curse is bound to make Hollows out of all of us... but I refuse to accept it.

Solaire talked to Oscar during their way back to the stairs. Oscar listened to him, and his resolve only grew stronger.

I will not go Hollow. I will not let Solaire go Hollow. Somehow, I'll find a way to save all of you. This vow I'll fulfill, one way or another. Believe in me... I will not disappoint any of you. You have my word.

Solaire made a joke at his own expense, and even that of Lautrec's. It was an innocent jab, one that still managed to earn a laugh from Oscar.

They were so immersed in their rapport they did not notice a slender figure standing in front of them, right at the entrance that gave access to the church's stairs.

"Greetings!"

Oscar reacted by instantly preparing his sword for battle, while Solaire lifted his round shield and kept his upper body well-protected against any projectile, be it an arrow or a throwing knife.

"Oh, my apologies, brave knights. I did not mean to startle you. Please, put down your weapons. I assure you, I mean no harm." The stranger, clad in dark robes, spread his arms in a welcoming gesture that left him in a vulnerable position.

No knight worthy of his honor would attack a man in such state. The stranger, a pardoner judging by his looks, was either too trusting of the morality of Undead knights or had hidden and effective ways to protect himself if things turned sour.

Oscar sheathed his sword. Solaire imitated him, returning his round shield to his side.

"I appreciate it. It soothes my soul to know that noble men still exist across this cursed wasteland." The pardoner said, keeping his gesture. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Oswald of Carim. Gentle knights, were you the ones who rang the bell? If this is true, then I would be most honored to offer you my services for free. If you are not, then we can part ways... unless one of you is in dire need of absolution, for sins and confessions are my domain, and the preserving of your Humanity is my duty."

A loud cackle escaped the pardoner.

While free of malice, it was sinister.

Oscar looked at Solaire and wondered if his face was the same as his under his heaume, and if his thoughts of the stranger were perhaps gentler than his own.

Eventually, Solaire acted, and Oscar's doubts were answered all at once.

"The bell must toll once more."

The blind woman reacted to the statement just as Yuria had expected.

Subtle fear, overshadowed by an unyielding sense of obligation that hushed her doubts.

Fire keepers.

Beings both cursed and blessed, trapped in an unrewarding yet vital duty.

Drawers of Humanity, the true eternal watchers of the Abyss.

Yuria respected every single one of them, from the one that was nothing but rotting dust at the pit of the tower, to the breathing woman standing right in front her.

"Why?" She asked the question shyly. Then, with uncharacteristic boldness, she dared to elaborate. "The ashes have already risen from their graves."

How ignorant that girl was of her fortune. Were she not protected by her title, Yuria would have been more than glad to remind her of the price of her boldness.

"Not all ashes." Yuria answered, clinging to a damp bulk the fire keeper could not see. "Ring the bell once more. Not now, not yet. There's something I need to do first, but when I return, you must do it right away."

The fire keeper opened her mouth, but any words she planned to say remained forever trapped within herself, as it should be. Satisfied with her obidience, Yuria left the shrine.

The fire keeper directed her sightless stare at the echo of her steps, following them until she could hear them no more.