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"By the gods, there he is again. What an annoying prick, though I must say I feel a bit sorry for the moron. Does he really think we enjoy his presence?"
"Of course he does, he's an idiot. Don't you feel bad about him! If you ask me, a knight that gets tricked even by some old farmer deserves all the mistreatment he gets."
The elite knight laughed merrily, the pint on his hand spilling some of the ale on the wooden table. His friend, an elite knight too, joined him.
"What did the idiot do this time? Do tell!"
"Didn't you hear? It was everyone's favorite anecdote for days! And the best part is the idiot was completely oblivious of the whole thing; he still is! Every time someone sarcastically congratulates him for his good deed, he says 'it was nothing! I'm here to help anytime'."
They laughed together again.
"That man is something else. How he even managed to become a knight in the first place is beyond me."
"Haven't you seen him fight? He's got the strength of a giant! And the brains and grace of one too."
"You speak the truth, friend! Curses, he's seen us now. Hurry, tell me of the farmer's trickery! Quickly, before the idiot gets too close."
"Apparently, the farmer told the idiot he needed help with his crop field, which had gotten infested with nettles. The farmer said he wanted to get the work done by himself, but that his broken ankle made it impossible. An ankle that was conveniently fully healed the day after. As expected, the idiot immediately accepted the work and began ripping out every single nettle on the field... with his bare hands."
"Ha! Typical Solaire!"
"And the best thing is that he didn't even ask the farmer for any sort of payment once he was done. Not that the old man would have been obligated to give him anything for his services. A knight that doesn't establish a payment beforehand has no right to reclaim it afterwards. Such a relief that rule doesn't apply to us elites."
"Hey, don't be unfair with the fool! You can't ask him to remember this sort of things; it could make his head catch fire faster than a leaking oil lamp."
"I think his hands are still swollen with nettle poison. Hopefully not; otherwise, he'll be of no use to us. What a shame, I really wanted my sword and shield to get polished today. We elites shouldn't do this sort of menial work by ourselves! It's below us."
"I get what you're saying, but don't you worry. I'm sure the idiot wouldn't refuse us the favor even if his hands had been cut off. He wouldn't want the elites of Astora to resent him, would he?"
"Spoken like a true elite knight! Cheers to you, friend!"
The two elite knights made a quick toast and finished their drinks.
"Hey, Oscar! Don't you want to get your sword and shield polished for free too?"
The third elite knight had silently listened to his comrades' conversation from a nearby table. He stood up and gave them a condescending look from behind the visor of his helmet.
"You want me to entrust my equipment to the same man that couldn't even properly get rid of some nettles? Please, I'd rather whet and polish my sword with a muddied rock."
"Properly? Wait, wait! Are you saying the idiot couldn't even do that simple task right?" one of the elite knights asked him, as prepared as his friend to explode in boisterous cackling.
"I'm not the town crier. Ask Solaire yourselves if you are so curious, he's already coming this way. Now, if you excuse me, I've got better things to do than watching you humiliate the poor bastard."
"Oh please, as if you didn't enjoy the idiot's misadventures as much as the rest of Astora."
"I couldn't care less about him. Dress him in a jester's patched attire and make him dance under the sun for three days in a row if you wish. It's none of my business." Oscar told them. "But don't come crying to me after he leaves your swords and shields all chipped and blunt."
"Dressing him in a jester's patched attire... Gwyn's mercy, that's genius! Maybe if we tell him it's some sort of praising ritual for the sun—" the other elite knight snapped his fingers, and he and his drinking partner started planning how to get the idea become reality.
Oscar left them to their machinations, completely uncaring of whether they had success or not.
Solaire then passed trotting next to him.
"Hello there!" The always jolly knight told him with a gleaming smile. "Do you—"
Oscar was glad he had not removed his helmet at any moment. It granted him the perfect excuse to completely ignore Solaire, just as he always did.
He left the lower-class knight behind, without giving him the slightest sign he had seen or heard him.
Whether he was an idiot or not was something Oscar had given little thought to, but he did agree with something one of his fellow elite knights had stated.
Solaire was annoying, and if he was so gullible, then maybe he did deserve to be everyone's laughingstock.
Oscar looked over his shoulder one last time before abandoning the tavern, and saw his fellow elite knights talking with an enthusiastic Solaire, praising him for his good deed with the farmer and the crop field.
Solaire thanked them humbly.
Oscar did not feel pity for him, and he had no intention of stopping the cruel jest they had planned for Solaire.
The lower-class knight was not worthy of his time.
"Pathetic." Oscar grunted disdainfully under his breath.
It was the only thought he was willing to waste on Solaire.
With that, he left the building behind, and he did not think of him again.
The dream shattered into pieces and was replaced by a loud, chaotic reality.
It was as if the shouting had never ceased.
Solaire screamed his name , while Reah's pleas remained ignored by all.
Oscar's sight became one with his mind again.
The first thing he saw was the blurry image of Solaire being held down to the floor by Petrus and Reah's bodyguards.
The three men, strong and trained as they were, could barely keep Solaire pinned down as he trashed and struggled to break free from them.
The clerics' faces were red and sweating of exhaustion. Nico and Vince frowned with frustration as their efforts failed to make Solaire stop, while Petrus smiled in amusement at Solaire's futile attempts to shake them off.
"Oscar!" Solaire managed to lift his torso from the ground by stretching his arms.
The energetic impulse sent Nico into the air. The tired cleric fell on his back, exhausted and injured, and hit his head with the floor. Reah ran to his aid, her tearful eyes fixed on her guardians as she begged them to stop.
Vince kept his position on top of Solaire only out of sheer luck. Unlike Petrus, he was not deaf to Reah's orders, but still he continued aiding the high cleric.
Petrus, infuriated by Solaire's defiance, slammed his boot against the back of Solaire's head.
The crack his skull made as it crashed against the stone floor froze Oscar's blood and fully reawakened his mind and body back to his senses.
He was lying on the ground, his back resting against an old stone column, trapped in a position not so different as the one he had held at the Asylum's old cell, right after the demon had defeated him with a single blow of its giant hammer.
All that was missing was the ice-cold water filtering through his boots to make the scene a perfect recreation.
Oscar would have sunk into that fateful memory had it not been by the empty dread that was consuming him.
"Solaire." He moved his lips, but no sound came from his throat.
"Oscar!" Solaire replied as if he had heard him.
His friend was still alive.
Oscar's relief returned warmth to his heart and soul, but he had no chance to enjoy it.
Petrus made sure of it.
"Calm down already , you stupid animal!" Petrus ordered Solaire as he pressed his boot deeper into his nape. Vince looked at the high cleric with submissive fear as he tried to keep Solaire's arms glued to the ground. "How many times do I have to tell you? The half-Hollow is not dead! Are you deaf or are you just an idiot? Answer me, you airheaded clown! You pathetic excuse for a knight!"
Petrus stomped his foot against Solaire again.
And again.
And again.
It didn't take long for Vince's disapproval to show on his features, but he made no attempt to stop Petrus.
Only one person did.
"Petrus!" Reah cried, kneeling next to the disoriented Nico, who looked at the demonstration of violence with no less shock than Vince and his lady. "Stop! You're going to kill him! Petrus, don't do this! I command you to stop! Stop!"
"This must be done, my lady!" Petrus exclaimed in an invigorated scream that conveyed nothing but overjoyed satisfaction. "It's the only way to keep savages like him under control!"
"Solaire." Oscar repeated, his voice now loud and noticeable enough to be considered a whisper. He drew breath, enraged by the cruel treatment Petrus was inflicting on his friend, and screamed his command for everyone in Lordran to hear. "ENOUGH!"
His roar froze the scene before him and earned him the startled attention of all the clerics. Their fear and disgust did not catch Oscar by surprise; he knew well the reason behind their reactions.
His demonic voice had transformed his scream into the growl of a furious abomination.
Vince's stared at him and jumped away from Solaire, as if Oscar was a monster about to attack. He quickly ran to Reah's side and protected her together with Nico, who had also regained his energy just by taking a quick glance at Oscar's face.
Their bodies kept Reah's reaction a secret from Oscar, but he knew any benevolent feeling the woman could have felt for him was gone for good.
Petrus reacted too, but unlike his fellow clerics, he did so with a wide grin.
"I knew it." Petrus removed his boot from Solaire's head and knelt to his side. "It was all lie."
"Os... car?" Solaire mumbled.
Petrus, without taking his eyes off Oscar, roughly grabbed Solaire by his untied, mangled long hair matted with blood, and lifted his head so he could look at Oscar directly.
He held Solaire's chin with his other hand, further firming his injured head so that he would not miss a single detail of Oscar's exposed deceit.
"Look, Warrior of Sunlight! Look at your friend for what he really is!" Petrus exclaimed. "Just a filthy, treacherous half-Hollow that lied to you... lied to all of us!"
His insults, his words, his venom.
They were only sounds the wind would take away, but Solaire's incredulous eyes would never leave him.
They were real, a tangible evidence of the bond Oscar had broken.
"Solaire." Oscar moved his body forwards. He managed to get his knees under him, but shame did not allow him to get any closer to Solaire or the clerics he had so shamefully deceived. "I—"
"Don't you move, monster!" Vince roared, the expression on his face now transformed into the most boiling anger, completely different from the childish jealousy he had shown to Oscar before. "My lady, stay behind us! Petrus was right about this man. He's nothing but scum, and already half consumed by the curse!"
Nico agreed with his friend, and he gave Oscar a look of disgusted rejection.
Neither would ever trust him again.
They had dared to defy the possibilities, they had even gone against Petrus' warnings and given Oscar a chance, only to have their trust betrayed.
Shame almost pulled Oscar to the ground, but Solaire's unrelenting stare kept him still.
His eyes hurt Oscar, they filled him with cold regret and embarrassment, but he did not dare to look away.
To do so would be to offend the honor of the man that had thought of Oscar as his friend.
The same man Oscar had mistreated in his past life.
The old memory he had mistaken for a dream fused with Oscar's fresh shame. Together, they created an invisible, unbreakable wall between him and everyone around him.
I ruined it.
Oscar's body shuddered at the foulness of his actions, both past and present.
I ruined everything.
"I tried to warn you, Solaire." Petrus spoke, slowly helping Solaire back on his feet. He took out a tattered talisman from a hidden pocket on his armor and casted a healing light on Solaire.
The most serious of injuries that the clerics had inflicted on Solaire during their savage moment of struggle vanished at the touch of the holy light.
Scratches, bruises and dried blood remained plastered on his skin and hair, but they were small wounds a knight could endure without complaints.
"But you wouldn't listen. Hopefully, you will now."
Solaire, silent and unresponsive, blinked only once, his blue eyes fixed on Oscar's as threads of his blond hair hung limply on his face.
"As for you, deceiver." Petrus continued, putting himself between Oscar and Solaire. "Dirty mistake of fate, blasphemer of righteous men, breeder of lies and tricks."
He moved to a side, forcing Solaire to do the same by pulling him by the arm.
Nico and Vince understood the order, and they too moved so that no one stood between Reah and Oscar.
The distance between them was meaningless, and the mortified glittering of the welled-up tears in her eyes was like a dagger for Oscar.
There was no trace left of Reah's innocent admiration for him. Oscar had taken that poor woman's expectations and perception of Astoran knights and shaped them into something hideous.
She hated him; she hated him for his betrayal, for all the chaos and suffering he had caused to her and her friends with his meddling lie.
She hated him for corrupting the peaceful start of her pilgrimage, for burdening her and her guardians with needless violence and tension.
Oscar tried to say something, but words couldn't mend what he had destroyed.
He wished to tell her how had never intended to hurt her.
He had only wanted to save her from Petrus' claws, but Reah didn't know that; she couldn't possibly know what Oscar knew, even less believe in his accusations.
And now, she would never trust Oscar again. To her, he would never be anything else other than the cruel, corrupted knight that brought harm to her guardians and broke havoc into her pilgrimage.
A monster that had almost succeeded in tricking her and had left her trust in foreign knights in shambles.
Oscar could not endure it anymore.
He tried to look down and hide his deformed appearance and shameful eyes from her and her bodyguards, but Petrus did not allow him the pleasure.
He held Oscar's chin in one place with the cold, pricking touch of his morning star.
The metal spikes pierced Oscar's skin, and a warm and thin thread of blood streamed down the weapon as Petrus forced him to keep his eyes fixed on Reah.
"Tell lady Reah that I'm a vile man. Tell her again all the lies you created in your insane, rotten mind. Tell her, half- Hollow. Look at her in the eye and tell her all of it again, I dare you."
Oscar opened his mouth.
An unintentional hoarse, deep growl escaped him.
Reah heard the awful sound, and it finally drove her to tears.
Nico and Vince immediately held their lady in a comforting embrace, shielding her from Oscar's venom with their bodies.
"Do you see, half-Hollow? Suffering and despair. That's all abominations like you can offer to the world, no matter how much you hide your true nature behind illusions."
Petrus blocked Oscar's field of view again. His morning star departed the underside of his jaw, but Oscar could not move his body.
He remained frozen under Petrus' shadow.
"Nico, Vince. Get lady Reah away from here. Take her to the lower floor. I'll meet you there in a moment, after I have dealt with this monster. Be sure to keep her comfortable and safe. My lady, don't you cry, I promise you I will set things right. Now go."
Oscar could only listen to the steps of Reah, Nico and Vince as they immediately followed Petrus' order with absolute trust and diligence.
"Reah... please." Oscar tried to reach her in one last attempt to warn her of Petrus' true nature, but Reah only replied with a deep and hateful glare.
Soon, she and her bodyguards were gone.
Only Petrus and Solaire remained by Oscar's side.
"It's amazing how versatile the effects of miracles are, isn't it?"
Petrus commented casually, playing with his tattered talisman as he threw it into the air and caught it twice.
"One single tale can create many variations of the same miracle. Healing for example, can be either instantaneous or continuous. The Force miracle can be used as a harmless defense or as a crushing attack that will reduce the bones of those around you into dust. Fortunately for you, I used the defensive variation of this miracle, half-Hollow... mixed with something else."
Oscar listened to Petrus but did not look at him. His whole attention was directed at Solaire.
His former friend, the man he had betrayed and failed even before they had properly met in Lordran, looked at him with a vacuous expression that sunk Oscar in the deepest end of shame and despair.
Petrus, noticing Solaire had moved from behind his back and was now standing next to him, pushed him behind again him with unexpected politeness, so that Oscar could have no one to look at other than himself.
"There are messages hidden around us."
Petrus continued.
"Lordran was once filled with messages of old, left behind by the first of the Undeads... and even by the gods themselves, some may claim. Time, decay, and the selfishness of those who sought to keep that information to themselves have erased most of these messages, and the few that remain are not longer visible to the eye. They are concealed from us, but with the right miracle, they can come to light again. By chanting a tale of seeking guidance, one may see the messages others left behind and claim their wisdom as their own."
Petrus' raised his hand to his mouth and pressed the talisman against his lips. He mumbled two silent tales Oscar couldn't not understand, and his hand became engulfed with two different lights, one white, the other golden.
Together, they shone with an almost blinding glow that Oscar recognized instantly. It had been the same shine he had seen just before he had drowned into unconsciousness.
"Force to knock you out, and Seeking Guidance to unveil that which you tried to conceal under cheap tactics and illusions."
Petrus said, so proud of himself that he sounded more like a king than a humble cleric.
"An invention of my own, and quite popular among us clerics while dealing with those we know are trying desperately to hide their curse from the world. I left it as my last resource, with the hopes you would be honest with my lady and this Warrior of Sunlight by your own volition. I should have known better than to expect such level of decency from a half-Hollow. "
Petrus smiled at Oscar.
"Sadly, miracles are fleeting, and so are their effects. I unveiled your deceit, but don't worry, whatever illusion you are using to keep your hideous appearance concealed will soon come back to you. It's a true shame I can't say the same about the trust and bonds you've broken with your lies."
Solaire came out from behind Petrus' back once more. Oscar could not look at him this time.
Instead, he covered his face with both hands and lowered his head.
He couldn't put up with Solaire's gaze, not after the truth had been spoken out loud so cruelly by Petrus.
His face, whether it was corrupted or falsely healed underneath the illusion of the ring, was a nasty offense to everyone that laid their eyes on him.
"I don't know what exact trick you are using to keep your appearance and voice normal, but I do know that its origins must be dark and wicked, as corrupted and destructive as the Abyss itself! You have sinned, half-Hollow! You are not worthy of being a knight! You are not worthy of being alive!"
Petrus spat at Oscar.
"If you had any respect for the world and the people you have deceived and harmed, you'd go Hollow this instant and take your own life so you could finally spare us of your useless, infectious existence. You are a disease, a freak that has brought only ruin and pain to this land! Ring as many bells as you want, indulge yourself in all the stupid prophecies you can think of; none of it will change what you really are... just an insane, cruel, manipulative, selfish, worthless and despicable mistake that should have never existed."
Oscar's hands stiffened with every word Petrus spat at him. His whole body trembled, and he wished everything could end at that very moment.
His fingers spread and clung to his skin, desperate to hide completely his face from the world.
"Pathetic." Petrus continued. "You sad mishap of fate. Allow us to grant you peace and redemption for committing the sin of being alive."
Petrus scratched his boots against the floor as he changed position.
"Warrior of Sunlight, knight Solaire of Astora... I believe it is you who should deliver judgement upon this beast. I humbly apologize for my treatment of you earlier; I was merely caught in the desperate need to keep my lady safe and restore my honor from the lies of this pitiful creature. I harbor no ill-sentiment against you, and I hope you feel the same towards me."
Petrus made a small pause, but Solaire said nothing.
"To prove my good faith in you, I shall make you an offer." He insisted, like a crafty merchant unwilling to allow a sale to escape him. "You may accompany my fellow clerics, my lady and I in our pilgrimage to the Catacombs. Having a Warrior of Sunlight by our side would be an honor for all of us, and I'm sure it will prove to be a quest worthy of your integrity and abilities, unlike being the companion of this vermin."
Oscar felt how the latent Hollowing stored in his heart began to break its shackles.
His Humanity fought against the menace, but it could not counterattack in all its power without Oscar's will backing it up.
He heard the characteristic whistle of a sword being unsheathed.
Solaire.
His head fell lower.
His elbows rested and slid along his thighs. Soon, he was so close to the floor that the scent of dirt and old stone reached his nose even through the leather and metal of his gloves.
"Your sword, Warrior of Sunlight." Petrus said solemnly. "Here, take it. Kill this half-Hollow. Free it of its misery... don't worry, by the looks of it, it will go Hollow soon. It won't be reborn again. Do it, Solaire. Make it pay for all the pain it has caused you. You deserve better than the treatment this thing gave to you, and me and my lady can grant it to you. But first, kill this half-Hollow."
Silence.
Then, the rustle of a sword being handled and the metallic steps so proper of Solaire.
My friend. I don't blame you.
The memory of his former indifference and disdain for Solaire struck him like lighting.
I'm not worthy of you. I was never worthy of your time.
The strike of the sunlight blade didn't come instantly.
At first, Oscar thought Solaire was taking his time to canalize all of his resentment into a single blow.
He remained in the same position, unable to look at Solaire one last time, like the coward he was.
He heard Solaire's feet move again. He was ready, and so was Oscar.
Another sound.
The gentle thump of a pair of knees touching the floor.
Then, not a sound, but a touch.
Solaire's arm resting on his shoulders and lifting him up.
Oscar offered some resistance, but Solaire had no trouble in raising his torso back to a straight position.
Oscar pressed his hands against his face with more vigor, as if he wished for them to melt with his features in a grotesque imitation of a mask.
A moment later, Solaire's forehead rested against the small patch of Oscar's temple that had remained uncovered by his hands.
He was warm, unlike the rough touch of Oscar's leather gloves.
Oscar would have recoiled away from him had Solaire's arm on his shoulders not kept him locked in one place.
It was a strong but gentle pressure, free of all the violence and harshness proper of a man about to commit vengeance on the person that had wronged him.
It was a strength typical of a friend.
Typical of Solaire.
Bewildered like never before in his life and feeling a painful and continuous squeeze in his heart, Oscar slowly lifted his face from the sanctuary of his gloved palms.
He stared blankly into the distance before him, only gathering enough courage to look at Solaire from the corner of his eye.
Solaire kept him close to him, his own eyes closed, his mouth a silent line that needn't say anything to make Oscar understand the thoughts fluttering inside his mind and heart.
Why?
Oscar's jaw clenched, his teeth gnashing and grinding against each other as if they wanted to pulverize themselves.
How can you?
The emptiness that had been about to spread on his chest was no match by his empowered Humanity, and it became once more a suppressed energy that existed within him but had no true power, like a dangerous criminal jailed in an underground cell.
Solaire's forehead departed from his temple, but his arm remained firmly resting on Oscar's shoulders.
His sunlight sword produced a soft clinking echo as Solaire placed it before Oscar in a diagonal position.
A barrier.
An unyielding protection, a sign of his forgiveness, a challenging gesture for Petrus.
"Fool! Would you seriously refuse my mercy and my offer just for the sake of this useless filth? Are you so stupid as to continue to trust him after his cynical deceit?"
Petrus exclaimed with anger as he pointed his morning star at Oscar.
Solaire answered only by reaffirming his grasp on Oscar and pulling him closer to him, all while tensing his hold on his sword, as a warning to Petrus of the battle that would take place if he did not accept his decision and disappeared from his sight that very instant.
"You cursed Astorans are all the same."
Petrus said, his voice distorted by a deep growl.
"Idiots, all of you! Always meddling in other people's affairs, thinking you know better than everyone else; always acting like you were the heroes of the downtrodden and the lost, only to raid and pillage them yourselves once the righteous façade no longer brings you any benefits. Childish, precarious and hypocritical tyrants, that's all you really are! I'd be doing the world a favor if I put an end to your—"
"Now, now, this is hardly the way a cleric of your status should behave, don't you agree?" A newcomer added, the mocking and natural tone of his voice filling the scene with somber tension. "In fact, are you sure you are a cleric? Because you look more like a savage to me."
He clicked his tongue.
"And this is coming from a native of Carim, a land Thorolund has constantly deemed as 'barbaric and irrational'. Talk about projecting your complexes and flaws on others... then again, that's all people from Thorolund know how to do."
Lautrec.
Oscar never would have thought he would be glad, even less relieved to hear the knight clad in golden armor again.
He and Solaire tried to look at him, but Petrus was too much of a threat to lose him from sight even for a second.
Instead, Solaire strengthened his hold on Oscar and prepared his sword to repel any attack Petrus could throw at them.
But the cleric seemed to have momentarily forgotten about his Astoran enemies, too lured and provoked by the Carim knight that had dared to intrude into the matter so suddenly and so unwelcome.
"Go back to whatever whore you are babysitting, you retrograde brute." Petrus sneered at Lautrec. "This doesn't concern you."
"See? Always projecting." Lautrec replied with an amused chuckle.
Oscar was sure Petrus would leap at Lautrec and smash his head beyond recognition with his morning star, just as he had done with Patches the thief.
Solaire was not blind to the risk Lautrec was in, but he also was unwilling to leave Oscar's side.
Even amidst the chaos, his loyalty and kindness were beacons of comfort.
"You should be grateful to me."
Petrus said after an uncomfortable pause that only came to an end after Lautrec wielded his shotel swords to let him know he was more than willing and prepared to fight him to the death.
"The death of two Astoran should please a Carim knight greatly. Why then, do you stop me? Unless you want to kill them both yourself? How predictable, how expected from an animal of Carim."
"Oh no, look what you've done." Lautrec finally stepped in. His golden armor shone like molten gold, with only his exposed face breaking the gleaming harmony.
His shotel swords danced on his hands, their curved, sharp blades cutting the air into small, whistling pieces.
"You hurt my feelings. I may not be Astoran, but I have this small tendency of letting my emotions cloud by my better judgment. And when I do, I leave spilled blood on my path."
The threat did not reach Petrus at first, but when Lautrec feigned an attack, the fear that struck him was real and absolute.
The cleric backed away from Lautrec, like a cornered mouse trying to escape a cat.
Solaire did not remain idle and he too aimed his sword at Petrus.
Oscar could only stare at his fellow knights as their combined efforts effectively depleted Petrus' courage and reduced him to a shivering man that was close to get on his knees and beg for his life.
"Yes, that's what I thought." Lautrec laughed cruelly at the intimidated cleric. "Get out of here. Go back to that wailing child and those two idiots she has for bodyguards and leave Firelink Shrine at once. If you don't, I'll kill you all and rip your hearts out of your corpses and offer them to my lady Fina. I doubt your flesh would be of much value to her, but my lady is resourceful and inventive. I'm sure she'll find a good use for your putrid chunks of meat."
"Lautrec!" Solaire exclaimed, no less horrified than Petrus.
The cleric did not wait for another warning and escaped the scene, avoiding Lautrec as much as possible as he passed next to him.
"Don't forget what I told you, half-Hollow." Petrus said as he kept running towards the shrine's stairs. His voice reached Oscar from behind like a treacherous stab. "Creatures like you bring only pain and illness to the world and those around you! You're a mistake! A sham!"
"Is he serious?" Lautrec sighed, watching how Petrus disappeared from sight. "Hateful bastard. No matter, he is gone now. Hey now, don't look at me like that, Solaire. You didn't believe my words, did you? Please, I was just trying to scare him off! As if I would ever offend my lady Fina with such horrendous sacrifices... I might as well offer her a pile of manure."
Lautrec laughed under his breath.
"That was a joke. What? Nothing? Hmm, yes... I had forgotten Astorans have no sense of humor."
He folded his arms on his chest and inspected them, a mocking grin on the corner of his mouth.
"You look horrible. How did a few clerics and an innocent maiden leave you in this state? You should be ashamed of yourselves. My respect for the two of you has dwindled greatly, my dear friends."
Just like Petrus, Lautrec left, but unlike the cleric, the words he offered next were free of malice.
"Come to the bonfire. I'll fetch you some water so you can clean yourselves. Undead or not, we are still knights, and we should look as such, not as battered vagabonds. It will take me some time to get everything settled. Or you can stay there for a while longer if you want; I'll call you when it's ready. Oh, and by the way, Oscar... nice face. Who would have thought you were such a dashing fellow? Don't get too close to the fire keeper, unless you want to steal her heart."
Lautrec guffawed, in a sinister manner that resembled Oswald. Still, though needlessly taunting, Oscar felt no real hostility on Lautrec's end.
Solaire did not make a sound, and Oscar could tell by his silence that he had not enjoyed Lautrec's remarks at all.
It's alright, Solaire. He means nothing by it. Don't get angry at him over some silly jabs.
How bold of him to think he could allow himself that level of lightheartedness when addressing Solaire after what he had done.
Oscar hadn't even turned his head and looked at him in the eye; how did he plan to direct a word to him in the first place?
"Nothing was true." Solaire stated out of a sudden.
His few, simple words so perfectly summarized Oscar's deceit. Solaire needn't say anything more.
But Oscar did.
There was so much explaining to do, and not only about the cursed ring.
The memory Oscar had regained during his moment of unconsciousness and what it revealed about himself couldn't remain unknown for Solaire.
He needed to know.
He deserved to know.
"Solaire." Oscar muttered, disgusted by the false and normal sound of his voice. He grabbed the gloved finger that wielded the cursed artifact and squeezed it, as if he was trying to break the bone together with the ring. "I am so sorry—"
"Nothing was true." Solaire repeated, his unruly long hair slightly mingling with Oscar's as he pulled him closer. "Nothing of what Petrus said about you is true. Not a single word. It's alright, Oscar. It's alright."
"It's not, Solaire." Oscar said, each word a test for his bravery. "I have failed you yet again. I have failed you so many times before... more than you can possibly know."
"I have never considered, let alone felt, that you've failed me in any way, Oscar."
"But I have." Oscar hid half his face behind one hand, but there was no escaping from his shame. "I have."
"Tell me about it, then. Explain it to me. Oscar, I am your friend; I cannot assure you I won't get upset or even angry at what you tell me, but I promise you that I will listen, I will do my absolute best to understand you. I... I am not a smart man, but even an idiot like me— "
"Don't call yourself that, not ever again. You were never an idiot, Solaire. Not in here, and definitely not back in Astora. The people who mocked you and took advantage of your kindness, they were the real idiots. And among them, I was the biggest idiot of all."
"Oscar, it's fine." Solaire stated reassuringly. "Tell me about it. I'm here, and I will listen. I will listen to everything you have to say, my friend."
"My lord. You are dying."
"Indeed. Time never stops, not even for us primordial serpents."
"Don't leave me. Please."
"Not yet, Yuria. There's still some life inside me, and while there is, I shall remain by your side. But when my time comes, do not mourn me. All that exists must always come to an end so something new can take its place. Such is the natural course of the world. I may depart soon, but you will remain, as will our church and our people. Guide them, Yuria. Be strong as you have always been, and guide our Lord to their true fate."
"I will, my lord... Kaathe. The world you dreamed of will become a reality. I'll make sure of it, no matter what it takes."
"I know you will."