At first, I had only nightmares.
Nightmares filled with memories
Memories I wished could have forgotten.
Memories of the times when I had a name.
I forgot them all.
Now, I have only emptiness and myself.
But who am I?
A nameless Undead, a willing prisoner in a forgotten asylum, a fateless wretch.
And hopefully, a soon-to-be Hollow.
I can feel it coming.
The Hollowing.
It is taking me.
At last, I'll finally be able to rest and let go of this useless life.
What could be more beautiful than to be free of it?
To mingle with nothingness forever and forget about everything.
I remember some of the other prisoners; how they sought comfort on their pasts or clung hopefully to their future.
I could do neither, but still I tried to imitate them, hoping I would end up as Hollow and insane as they all did, but it was in vain.
Nothing I did ever brought me closer to Hollowing.
What my body so easily achieved, my mind refused to accomplish.
I never saw any results, not even when I copied those that killed themselves time after time on their cells until they woke up Hollow and were killed.
I always woke up at the bonfire with my mind intact.
The guards would then drag back into my cell.
After they left and the outside world abandoned us, I kept trying.
Each time, I returned willingly to my cell.
I still try it sometimes, but not so often anymore.
It doesn't seem to work.
No matter what I do, I am still here.
Rotten, decayed, but I am.
I don't want to be.
I don't want to survive any longer.
How I wish to join the others on their deaths.
At the very least, I want to join them on their Hollowing.
I wonder if they know how luck they are.
Probably not.
I hope not.
Of course they don't!
How stupid of me.
Hollows can't feel or think anything.
Some say Hollows are mad with fear, as if eternally drunk with their darkest emotions; but what do they know?
Hollows cannot speak, and the living cannot understand their actions.
I don't care what they say, I won't believe them.
Hollows feel no fear.
Hollows feel nothing at all.
Hollows are insane, cruel and savage.
And they are free.
They have let go.
And soon, I will let go too.
I can feel it coming.
The Hollowing.
My Hollowing.
Nothing will stop it now.
I know I have been saying this for years, but this time, it will finally happen.
I think should stop writing, if tracing my finger on the dirty floor can be considered writing to begin with.
Hollows do not write.
As a soon-to-be Hollow, I'd better start acting like one.
- An invisible message written by a nameless Undead at Northern Asylum, just before a corpse fell from the roof and landed an inch away from their finger.
His blood had painted his face red.
His shoulder bled no less abundantly, the chainmail broken and tattered there where the Black knight's sword had landed.
It had been the first hit Solaire had received, right after his parrying attempt had failed. It was a reminder of how close he had been to losing his arm.
It was an awful thought.
He tried to keep it at bay and focus on the battle, but the pain of his wounds and the hopelessness of his situation made it almost impossible.
He had tried to compensate for his shameful initial mistake and turn the battle to his favor with clever tactics, but the Black knight was a powerful and ruthless enemy.
The swings of his dark sword cut cleanly through the chainmail as if it was silk; the bashes of his shield left Solaire breathless, depleted of stamina and barely able to hold his position.
The narrow space of the tunnel gave Solaire little room to maneuver, and it didn't take long before he was reduced to a fully defensive stance.
He stood his ground and held his shield with all his strength, waiting for the Black knight to exhaust himself so he could counterattack, but the knight's stamina had not dwindled at all.
Each strike that fell on Solaire's round shield felt as strong as the first.
His bleeding shoulder exploded in a burst of wet pain at every hit. Underneath his helmet, his face was soaked in sweat, his teeth bared as he struggled to resist the shower of attacks of the Black knight.
Solaire knew he was not the most skilled of warriors, but he was resistant and strong.
It was seldom a foe had ever tired him.
He had employed this talent well and frequently back in Astora. He even dared to say his remarkable endurance was the only quality that had made him worthy of knighthood.
Even when he was unable to kill his enemies, he could distract them for as long as needed until another warrior or knight arrived to finish them off.
But now, it was useless.
No one would help him.
He was alone.
Oscar was not there, and even if he could hear the clash of swords that came from the fight, Solaire doubted he would come to his aid.
Oscar was a kind man, but he was not a fool.
What reason would he have to save Solaire?
He had become nothing but burden to Oscar, a needless source of grief.
Who would want such a useless companion?
Oscar.
The Black knight bashed him with his shield again.
Solaire's arm, long pushed beyond its limits, finally gave in.
The Black knight's shield pierced through his defenses and crashed against Solaire's ribcage.
The chainmail offered him all the protection it could, but it did nothing to stop Solaire's feet from leaving the floor.
He heard two cracks coming from his torso, right where the ancient dark shield of the Black knight had hit him. A light blinded him, and the pain of his broken ribs and bleeding shoulder became a single agony that made him scream as soon as his back touched the floor again.
His sight went from absolute white to completely black.
He regained his senses and found himself still lying on the ground. He could hear the steps of the Black knight as he approached him.
Solaire took a deep breath, his torso aching each time he inhaled.
Someone other than the knight moved nearby.
Lautrec.
Solaire had forgotten the knight of Carim was still there, witnessing his pathetic excuse for a fight. True to the traditions of his homeland, Lautrec had offered him no help.
Solaire doubted he would offer him any aid now that the Black knight was about to deliver the killing blow.
He did not resent him.
He did not want him to help him.
All Solaire could feel when thinking about him was shame.
He had made a fool out himself in front of Lautrec, just like he had done many times before in front of Oscar.
Just like he had always failed in front of the elite knights.
Not this time.
Solaire tried to stand on his feet, but his body remained anchored to the ground by the weight of his injuries, his chainmail, and his weapons.
It had been long since he had felt so utterly betrayed and abandoned by his body.
It had only happened once.
Solaire remembered it clearly, much to his disgrace.
It had happened shortly after he had been awarded knighthood on the battlefield after a bloody battle in which dozens of Carim soldiers and some pyromancers of the Great Swamp had perished at the touch of his sword and miracles.
He had felt so proud of himself, but he had failed to impress anyone else. Being granted knighthood on the battlefield was hardly an honor, as it was often considered a desperate tactic to increase the number of knights if many had been recently slain.
It was not an acknowledgement of one's achievements or talents, only a meaningless gesture where soldiers were randomly picked and made into knights, if just to deceive other nations and kingdoms into thinking that Astora's forces remained always strong.
Yet, despite the poor glory his knighthood had offered him at first, Solaire had not felt ashamed by it at all.
And it was perhaps that, blinded by his delusion and childish enthusiasm for finally becoming a knight, Solaire had eventually gathered enough courage to try to join the elite knights.
He had waited until he'd had a few victories attached to his name, believing it would make his knighthood seem respectable and legitimately earned to the eyes of the elites.
They had seldom been kind to him, but he had trusted they would be fair on their judgement and give him a chance to prove himself.
But when his so-called test had become just another chance for them to humiliate him and rejoice in his failures, Solaire had realized he had acted like a fool once more.
To them, he had always been nothing but a clown.
But that time had been different.
The elite knights had not only taken his hopes and shaped them into a farce they could laugh at; they had almost ended his life.
The Black knight was only a few steps away from him now. The clinking of his boots came in harmony with the growls of the Undead dogs that resonated inside Solaire's mind.
His test had been simple.
A couple of elite knights had led him to a circular high-fenced area.
Solaire knew them.
He had carried out small tasks for that pair before, such as polishing their equipment or shoeing their horses. They had always been condescending to him, but that time, they had treated Solaire with respect.
They had explained to him he was to wait there until the rest of the elite knights arrived to witness his performance in battle. If Solaire impressed at least half of them, he would be accepted among their ranks.
Solaire's heart had been so full of pride and excitement. He had hugged the two elite knights, thanking them for giving him a chance.
Kindly, they had assured him they knew he would perform well, and that they were looking forward to becoming his comrades and brothers in arms.
Once everything was ready and countless of eyes were watching him from underneath their helmets, the test had begun.
Solaire had expected a fair fight against one of the elites, one that would end not with death, but with a shaking of hands and the kindling of a prosperous camaraderie.
Instead, what he'd received were endless hordes of rabid Undead dogs. The elite knights threw the savage and cursed animals at him in large groups, and they gave him no time to rest in between each round.
Solaire had not complained or protested. He would not run away from the chance he had dreamed of all his life.
Even after his body bled from head to toe because of the bites and clawing injuries, he had continued fighting.
He had lost count of how many rounds had passed, and the initial cheering and laughter of the elites had long faded.
Solaire, afraid he had failed to impress them and were thinking of putting an end to his test, had demanded more enemies.
It hadn't mattered that his sword was blunt after so much killing or that the flesh of one of his legs was exposed to the bone after a dog had taken a deep bite.
Solaire had been decided to not give up.
Death had been preferable than to fail so shamefully in front of most of the elite knights of Astora.
Thus, he had managed to stand up and face the only enemy they had in store for him.
One Undead dog.
If he had managed to defeat it, then the elites would have had no reason to refuse him.
He would have joined them.
Solaire would have proved not only to others, but also to himself that all his efforts had been worthwhile; that regardless of the lack of faith everyone had always had on him, he had bloomed into a full-fledged warrior and knight.
He would have, by his own merit, become an elite knight.
But then, someone had intervened.
An elite knight had jumped into the pit and killed the Undead dog before Solaire had had the chance to move.
Enraged by the unwanted help and by the loss of his once-in-a-lifetime chance, Solaire had tried to attack the meddler.
He had taken one step closer to the elite knight before collapsing to the floor.
He remembered the elite knight coming to his side and carrying him to safety while also fiercely scolding his comrades for their despicable behavior.
Solaire had passed out shortly after, and so had ended his final and greatest humiliation at the hands of the elites.
He'd never discovered the name of the knight that had saved his life.
He knew he should have been grateful, but it was impossible for him to remember the incident and feel something else other than shame and resentment.
Tears of rage stung his eyes.
Solaire clenched his jaw and held tightly the handle of his round shield and the tilt of his sunlight sword.
The tools of a knight and a warrior.
At that moment, he felt like neither.
He had failed and made a fool out of himself again.
He wallowed in his self-pity and only snapped out of it when the Black knight stood tall by his side, his large and dark sword looming over him like a vulture.
The Black knight wouldn't kill him yet.
Solaire knew it well.
Just like the Hollows and any crazed Undead creature did, the knight would take his time maiming him before finally ending his life.
The Undead dogs had been the same. They had been more eager to make him bleed and tase chunks of his flesh than interested in killing him.
Old humiliation mixed with his present disgrace, and together they became a raw, blinding fury that numbed the pain and gave Solaire a wild lust for destruction.
I can't let it happen again.
His fingers swiftly holding his sword jolted to the amulet hanging limp on his belting.
The Black knight reacted instantly and sent a powerful stab aimed at Solaire's arm, but the steel of his blade met with the painted sun of the round shield instead.
Staggered by the abrupt clash and the unmeasured strength of his own attack, the Black knight remained unguarded for a slim moment.
I am not a clown. I'm not an idiot.
Solaire put the talisman close to his mouth and muttered the olden tale of Lord Gwyn and his firstborn.
I am a knight.
A tingling warmth filled his hand, and without thinking, he threw the lighting energy directly at the helmet of the Black knight.
The scorched creature screamed with his inhuman voice.
And for the first time during their battle, he backed down, disoriented as threads of yellow power travelled across his helmet and spread to his body.
I am a Warrior of Sunlight!
Solaire stood up.
His wounds would not forgive him for the harsh and extreme treatment he was giving to his body, and it would punish him with endless pain once the moment of bloodlust had passed.
Solaire didn't care.
As long as his body served him well and allowed him to kill the Black knight, he would accept any payback it gave to him later.
Panting heavily, Solaire readied his sword and amulet on one hand and his round shield on the other.
The Black knight stood at a decent distance away from him, fully recovered from the unexpected attack Solaire had thrown at him.
It had not been a complete and powerful miracle.
Solaire needed only to gaze at the Black knight to know his lighting spear had been a faint and pathetic thing, only a shadow of the true power the olden tale of Gwyn and his son was meant to convey.
The happiness and hope he had started to feel at the return of his miracles became lost at the second realization that followed: The Black knight had not been truly injured by his attack, only surprised.
It doesn't matter. I can still fight. I can still kill him.
Solaire roared and charged at the Black knight. His legs allowed him to take only a couple of steps forward before he collapsed to the floor again.
He had barely touched the ground when Solaire once again tried to get up, but this time his body was unresponsive and beyond his reach.
Estus.
Solaire thought with despair as the raging flame within him started to dwindle. In his eagerness to prove himself, he had forgotten to be practical.
He had opted for attacking instead of healing himself.
A mistake proper of novices and pages.
Not one a true knight would ever make.
This is the biggest of my ridicules.
Solare closed his eyes and chided himself for his stupidity as the Black knight, enraged by being taken off guard, charged at Solaire with a metallic roar.
Solaire found comfort in Oscar's absence. At least his friend had been spared from witnessing his shameful battle and defeat.
Just when Solaire had resigned himself to a long and painful death that could turn him Hollow, he heard steps coming from behind him.
Lautrec.
As if his humiliation wasn't great enough already, he had performed so poorly in battle that he had awakened pity in the heart of a Carim knight.
Solaire sunk in his embarrassment, incapable of feeling any gratitude for Lautrec, just as he had never felt gratitude for the nameless knight that had saved his life back in Astora.
Deep down, he felt guilt too.
Lautrec would die at the hands of the Black knight he had enraged.
It would all be his fault.
Forgive me.
Lautrec passed running next to him.
Solaire opened his eyes to gaze at the knight through the slit of his helmet. The golden shine of his armor was not what he saw; instead, what his eyes looked at were the grey chainmail and faded blue tone, now more akin to a reddish color, of an elite knight's tattered tunic and armor.
Solaire felt as if time had stopped for him.
The shame brewing inside him reached its boiling point, and it was only comparable with the anguish he felt as he listened to the engaging battle he couldn't see.
Oscar and the Black knight battled to the death, the violent song of their swords filling the air of the narrow tunnel.
Driven by his need to know the fate of his friend, Solaire made on last effort to raise himself from the ground.
His hands were held by someone before he had the chance to move.
Against his will and struggling to break free, Solaire was pulled away from the scene by Lautrec, back to the safety of the nearby stairs.
The wound on Solaire's shoulder opened wider at Lautrec's harsh treatment. He couldn't hold back a scream, but it was swallowed by the chaos of the fight between Oscar and the Black knight.
Once they were away from the ongoing conflict, Lautrec took Solaire's helmet off with little care and forcefully fed him Estus from his own flask. More than being healed by a comrade, Solaire felt as if he was being poisoned by an enemy.
"Drink, you goddamn fool." Lautrec sneered at him, covering Solaire's nose and mouth and forcing him to swallow. "You don't have the luxury to die right now."
Lautrec then pulled Solaire up and made him sit down with his back completely straight. He helped him by holding his shoulders with an arm as he knelt next to Solaire and watched the fight together with him.
"You must witness what you've caused and hope that Oscar can finish what you couldn't. And if he fails, then you must witness his death."
Lautrec's held him with the strength of iron chains.
Solaire watched the battle unfold before him and felt his heart bleed with impotence, shame, and fury.
Oscar came out victorious from the battle, but not unscathed.
The Black knight had sliced a deep cut on his right forearm, and one of the bashes he had thrown at him with his shield had almost broken Oscar's wrist.
The injury pulsed and hurt as if his gauntlet was covered with fire.
Oscar knelt on a knee and used his sword as support while he tried to catch his breath. The Black knight laid before him, now only a corpse that would soon fade into the wind, with his sword and shield still caught in the grip of his stiff hands.
Defeating him had dragged Oscar dangerously close to a new death.
It had taken three parries and powerful ripostes to finally snuff the life off the ancient knight. It had also costed Oscar all his stamina, and had the battle been prolonged any further, he was sure the outcome would have been much grimmer for him, Solaire and Lautrec.
Solaire.
He stood up even though he was far from being recovered and went as quickly as he could to Solaire's side.
Lautrec was sitting besides him, whispering something to Solaire in the ear.
Oscar hated him more than ever, and he would have considered killing him at that moment if Lautrec hadn't dragged Solaire to safety as he had told him to do.
Still, that small kindness did not change what Lautrec had done.
Nothing.
He had done nothing.
He had merely watched as Solaire was brutally attacked and almost butchered by the Black knight.
"Oh, look who's here." Lautrec exclaimed, bowing his head to Oscar with feign and derogatory courtesy. "Our hero. Didn't I tell you, Solaire? Oscar would finish what you, in your incompetence, couldn't."
Lautrec laughed.
At least, he tried.
Oscar did not give him the chance.
He snapped off Lautrec's helmet with a swift swing of his sword. Lautrec had tried to evade it, but Oscar was faster.
Once his conniving and mocking face was exposed, Oscar had pulled Lautrec up by the neck and slammed his fist on his cheek. He felt and heard how the bone of his cheekbone almost broke under his fingers.
Lautrec fell to his side but got back up with a nimble maneuver, a dagger already on his hand.
He glared at Oscar, his teeth glowing red as the cut inside his mouth continued to bleed.
"How dare you attack Lautrec the Embraced." Lautrec's voice sounded nothing like it had done before. "You will regret this, you fucking Astoran."
"If it is a fight to the death you so much want, then I'll gladly give it to you." Oscar said, putting himself in front of Solaire to shield him from any attack Lautrec threw at them. "You deserve it after what you've done!"
"What I've done?" Lautrec's anger flickered into amusement. He gave Oscar a crimson grin as a hoarse and slow chuckle emerged from his chest. "I've done nothing other than treating your beloved Solaire like the true knight he is, not like the defenseless maiden you mistake him for. Yes, Oscar, I offered him no help during his fight, and I do not regret it at all. I would have never robbed him of his honor as cruelly as you have."
"You're a coward." Oscar stated, leaving Lautrec aghast for the first time. "Hide behind the traditions of your homeland as much as you want, but you can't fool me. You didn't help Solaire because you were too busy rusting your golden armor with your own piss."
Anger returned to Lautrec's face and turned his pale skin red. Oscar prepared himself to deflect his incoming attack.
Lautrec's nostrils flared as if he was a raging bull. His piercing eyes jolted from Oscar to Solaire, and a smile adorned his bloody lips.
Before Oscar had the chance to look at the source of his amusement, he was pulled down by the wrist by Solaire. His friend roughly used him as support to get back on his feet.
Oscar had to bite his tongue to keep his grunts silent. Solaire had grabbed him by his injured wrist, the same the Black knight had almost broken.
Oscar tried to help him to get up faster, but Solaire refused his aid.
Once he was standing up, he stared deeply at Oscar.
"Lautrec is right." He said. "I did not need your help."
He left Oscar behind with his mouth agape and went towards the stairs. He managed to climb three of them, his legs tense from the exhaustion and pain he tried so desperate to conceal, before he tripped and fell.
Oscar immediately rushed to his side while Lautrec laughed behind their backs.
"Let's get you to the bonfire." Oscar said as he put one of Solaire's arm around his shoulders. "Your injuries are serious, but they're nothing some Estus and a moment of rest can't—"
Solaire easily freed his arm. Then, he pushed Oscar away from him, with enough force to make Oscar fall down the stairs and land on his back.
The fall did not hurt, but it left Oscar perplexed.
When his eyes and Solaire's eyes met again, he saw nothing but resentment in them.
"I don't need your help." Solaire repeated, his entire body trembling as it was forced to carry his weight again. "Not back in Astora, and not now."
"Solaire."
"I am a knight, Oscar." Solaire said as he continued his path up the stone stairs. "Regardless of what you may think of me. Had you not interfered, I would have proved it to you."
"Had I not interfered, you would have died." Oscar replied with the same tone he had used while talking to Lautrec.
"Maybe I should have." Solaire said, glaring at Oscar over his shoulder as he reached the last step. "Perhaps dying would have been a better fate than to be saved by you."
The words left Oscar speechless.
Solaire left, dragging his sword, helmet and shield together with him.
Oscar remained cold and still where he stood, his heartbeat ringing loudly in his ears.
"That was needlessly cruel of him, wouldn't you agree?" Lautrec said after clicking his tongue. "Some people just don't know how to appreciate kindness. But don't be too angry at Solaire, Oscar. He is just a sensitive man with a battered ego. I'm sure you know how awful of a combination that is for you Astorans. Let him heal his wounds and cool down his temper. I'm sure he'll see reason after he spends a moment of solitude by the bonfire... and if he doesn't, well, what can I say? Some friendships are not meant to last."
"This is your doing." Oscar snapped at Lautrec, who was now standing next to him. He stepped away from the Carim knight and pointed his sword at him. "You poisoned his mind against me, like the treacherous snake you are."
"Poisoned? If by it you mean that I told him the truth behind your treatment of him, then yes, I did poison Solaire with my venomous honesty."
"We never should have trusted you. You are not our ally anymore, Lautrec. You shall follow us no longer."
"That's my choice to make, not yours. And by 'us', I hope you don't mean Solaire, Oscar. At this point, I doubt he even wants to look at you in the face, let alone travel together with you. See, this is what I mean, my dear elite knight. You always take Solaire for granted, don't you? I noticed it from the first time I met you. He follows you around like a lap dog no matter what you do to him. You condescend him; you treat him like an incompetent page, you lie to him. Do not fool yourself. All of this is your doing, Oscar, not mine."
Lautrec walked towards Oscar unarmed.
He grabbed the visor of Oscar's helmet and pulled it down.
The ring.
It was only then that he became aware that he had never taken the trinket off.
"You are not a good man, Oscar." Lautrec told him. "It's time you accepted it and stopped lying to yourself and Solaire, don't you agree?"
Oscar couldn't answer.
Lautrec left the same way Solaire had done, but unlike him, he did not give Oscar a second glance over his shoulder.
Oscar was left alone with nothing but his foolishness and the fading corpse of the Black knight.
He twisted the ring under the leather of his gauntlet, and wondered how responsible it truly was of his falling out with Solaire, and of how ill-fated their friendship had been from the beginning.
Look at him. He is wearing the ring again. He must have put it on as soon as we left. See, Solaire? He doesn't respect you. Not as a knight nor as a friend. Your opinion is meaningless to him. He may save you yet again, but don't kid yourself. He doesn't do it for your sake. Oscar only does it to pander his own ego, to quench his need to play the hero. That's the kind of man he is. All elite knights of Astora are the same. I know it well, and I know you do too.
Solaire poured another entire flask of Estus on his bleeding shoulder and hissed. It stung as alcohol, perhaps even more.
The open wound was slowly healing and closing, pushed into a quick recovery by the effects of the elixir and the flame of the bonfire. It burned brighter and warmer than the one back at Firelink Shrine.
Had Solaire been in a better mood, he would have happily spent some time guessing the reasons behind it, but he was too beaten of both mind and body to waste his time on mindless distractions.
He filled the flask again and drank it whole. The pain of his broken ribs was dulled almost instantly.
As the agony of his body faded, the torment of his mind became stronger and Lautrec's words rang louder.
"Oscar."
The name escaped his lips, and with it came the memories of his treatment of his friend.
How he had clung to his arm to get up, how he had pushed him away when he had only tried to help him.
And worst of all, the awful things he had said to him.
How could I say something like that?
Tears tried to leak from his eyes. Solaire wiped them off and put his helmet back on in case they escaped him.
It ended up being a good choice, for soon after Lautrec arrived at the bonfire. And a few moments later, so did Oscar.
Solaire felt the salty touch streaming down his cheeks as soon as his eyes found Oscar.
The three of them remained a while in absolute silence, each sitting around the bonfire and occupying their minds on their own business.
Lautrec cleaned his helmet and pressed an Estus soaked piece of cloth against his swollen cheek.
Oscar, with his face now fully hidden behind his helmet, whetted his sword.
Solaire looked at him discreetly as he continued healing his wounds.
His sadness clashed with the anger and the disappointment he felt towards his friend; some of it earned, some of it irrational and childish.
Oscar, is it alright for us to travel together anymore? Even if that ring didn't exist, all these sentiments that remain inside me would have not disappeared.
Solaire poured more Estus on his wound. This time, he felt no pain.
I resent you. I resented you long before I met you. And it shames me; yet, these feelings come naturally to me. Oscar, I am not a good man. I thought I was a forgiving soul, always willing to see the best of others regardless of their flaws... but look at how I've treated you. My friend. My only true friend.
Oscar looked up from his sword.
Solaire looked down before their gazes could meet.
"Let's continue then." Lautrec announced. "Come, before we waste any more of our time in this deafening silence."
"Solaire's wounds are not fully healed yet." Oscar said, his voice once again reduced to its most awful form. "He needs more time."
Solaire knew Oscar had pure intentions, but his anger, still raw from the storm of emotions that had trapped him during his battle with the Black knight, instantly flared at his words.
"I'm fine." He stated firmly, standing up without showing any sign of weakness or pain. His ribs had stopped hurting, but his shoulder was far from being a scar. "Lautrec's right. We have to move on."
Oscar remained still with his whetstone on his hand. "Very well. If that's what you wish, then I won't stop you. Let's get going then."
"As if we were asking for your permission." Lautrec spat at Oscar. "Astoran elite knights are so full of themselves."
Solaire felt the impulse to intervene in his friend's favor, but he stopped himself.
Instead, he wanted to go to Oscar's side and try to offer him his hand to help him stand up, but Oscar got up on his own before Solaire could even approach him.
Solaire steeled his will and followed Oscar and Lautrec to the metallic set of stairs Oscar had managed to pull down.
Things between him and Oscar were not going to get any better, but still they had a journey ahead of them, full of dangers and enemies.
It was not the time for emotions.
If they were lucky and fate was kind, it would come later.
Solaire hoped it did.
He had faith it would.