Ch 9 - I'm telling you, my gods are real!
A/N: First 5k views. It might not seem like much, but it makes me happy, so I'll give you all a chapter ahead of schedule. I'm not going give a freebie based on views again in the future, but I might be tempted to give another freebie or two for my 1st 100 favs and 1st 100 follows...
Not really much to put here, so let's just get rolling. Just in case you're confused, we're rolling back two days, to just after the first combat class. Putting Yang getting her flame just felt better to me in the previous chapter than putting it later in here.
On a side note, the title for the sequel is now decided, even if I haven't really gotten to putting anything down for it (I have an outline for the prologue, and that's all I've accomplished in two weeks). College is annoying like that. Even if I do get started before May, the semester will insure it only gets like 2 hours of work a week. "Of Embers and Aura" is no longer just an idea, however, not when it bears a name.
Review Responses:
Alby199800: If the others members of Team RWBY will receive their own type of spellwork, i guess that Ruby may excel in miracles, Weiss in sorceries, and Blake in hexes. Though i am probably wrong.
I will wait the next chapter with bated breath.
My Response: I do intend for everyone in RWBY and JNAPR to get spells. And in the sequel, even more people. Some not as much as others, but an arcane arsenal will grace Beacon's finest. In fact, someone else will be getting magic in this chapter right here. You're guesses were actually pretty spot-on. Not exact, mind you, but close.
XiHeng: Ight, fine, I'll give you a second chance, but its not like I want to read your story or anything B-B-B-BAKA!
Jokes aside, yeah I'll still read your story, I really do enjoy the character interactions you written and you not taking my ideas are a-okay! It's your story to tell, not mine, I'm just here to give advice that I think are good (and I admit, not all my advice are good).
Keep up the good work!
My response: N-NANI? Does that mean I'm senpai? I didn't volunteer for this, and now I'm scared!
Ahem... Hey, don't put yourself down. I appreciate the advice, and it was a good idea, I just happened to go in another direction. Thanks for the well wishing.
proiu: Enjoyed the combat scene and yang with pyromancy just fits xD
Well, I'm glad to hear that. And yes, I just couldn't imagine Yang Xiao Long possessing any type of magic that wasn't based around setting things on fire. I mean, her theme is literally called "I Burn," for Gwyn's sake.
Ant (1st guest review): Intriguing. I've played far too much dark souls in general, not enough to make me know everything but enough.
Have you ever done a SL1 All Bosses Solo run? I have, it was something else... Dancer and Friede gives me PTS
My response: You haven't played too much Dark Souls until you start saying Gwyndamnit IRL. I have played too much Dark Souls, and have forced myself to take a hiatus on the game, and spend my time playing Monster Hunter World: Iceborne instead.
Yes I did try that run. Made it up to Pont-infinite Stamia-livahn (Pontiff Sulyvahn), where I hit a wall for 5 weeks, before I decided that becoming a masochist wasn't worth bragging about doing a SL 1 run.
Hitler's Moustache: I really hope vaati is a world renowned undead historian.
My response: Damn, I forgot about Vaati! I will work that in somewhere. Just need to figure out where...
Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Souls or RWBY. Dark Souls belongs to From Software and RWBY belongs to Rooster Teeth. I only own my own OC.
()
Two days prior:
Combat class had just ended, and as they headed back to their dorms, Vyliria recognized that the rest of JNAPR was displeased with her not mentioning her lack of aura, to say the least. She braced herself as they filed inside and shut the door.
"You don't have aura?" Nora blurted out.
"Well… yes. But I was honest when I said the headmaster couldn't unlock it and that I signed a waiver. I don't want you guys to treat me like glass. I can take hits."
"But you'll get hurt," Jaune said.
"I've been hurt. Plenty of times," Vyliria responded. "Quite severely. I wasn't joking when I said I've had my entire rib cage broken before. And it's happened multiple times. I've been dealt fatal wounds and prevailed anyways more times than I can keep track of."
"How? How can you just say that like it's nothing?" Jaune asked.
"Will. The will to push on, to hold on, to keep going, despite how badly and how many times the world beat me down. That, healing miracles, and a rather ridiculous amount of estus."
"What's estus?" Pyrrha queried.
"Aaaahhh…" Shit, Vyliria thought. Time to lie, lie, and lie some more! "Estus… well it's hard to describe. Remember when I told you all about that bonfire after initiation?" At a chorus of nods, she continued, "Picture it as the bottled essence of a bonfire. It takes a rather extreme amount of time and training to be able to use one, but once you can tap into its power, it has extensive healing properties. Estus can basically be considered a bonfire-to-go. Shattered rib cage? One good sip and you can experience the intensely uncomfortable sensation of all the bones reassembling while your organs repair the damage they suffered. Disemboweled? Shove your guts back in, take a chug, and you're good as new! Severed limbs? You can reattach them. Too bad it takes over a decade to be able to use the things." Please buy it, please buy it, please buy it.
"Can we see this estus?" Ren asked.
With a burst of embers, a jade flask filled with a burning orange-golden liquid materialized in her hand. "It's good for ten reasonably sized drinks."
"That looks like magic Shiny-D," Jaune and Nora said at the exact same time, before Nora turned to Jaune and shouted, "Jinx! You owe me a soda!"
Even as Jaune groaned and forked over the lien to buy one, he said to the unkindled, "So you can just heal literally fatal wounds instantly by chugging magical Shiny-D?"
"I wouldn't put it like that, but… yes? And I can refill it at the bonfire out in the Emerald Forest."
"That's rather convenient," Pyrrha spoke up again.
"Yes. Yes it is."
"So, Vyliria," Pyrrha continued, "I'm curious: could you speak more about miracles? It's just a shock to hear about magic that comes from actual gods."
"Huh? It would seem I didn't anticipate that it would be difficult to believe in gods in the first place when you don't have one living among you."
"WHAT?!" four voices shouted at her simultaneously.
"Well, Irithyll has been ruled by the same individual for the last… well, since before the city was called Irithyll to be honest. Back before the majority of the old city of the gods, Anor Londo, had crumbled away, it was still ruled by Gwyndolin."
"Gwyndolin?" Pyrrha asked.
"Yes… Gwyndolin, youngest son of the king of the gods, Gwyn." Vyliria felt a stirring within her storage space, and desperately tried to ignore it, and the wave of heartache that threatened to surface. "I will admit, that for being the king of the gods, Gwyn lacked any originality in naming conventions."
"So you've had a literal god ruling over you for over a thousand years?" the Mistralian questioned.
"Indeed. The god of the Darkmoon, and master of one of the covenants I serve. I… studied the art of the blade a great deal under him personally in my younger days…"
"You personally studied under a god?" Ren started. "I get that you have magic, but even so I'm having trouble believing this."
"He wore all black, save for a golden crown with a stylized sun upon it that covered his eyes, yet he could always see," Vyliria began, her mind trailing off into memories of better days. "He had long, snow-white hair, and instead of legs, had over a dozen serpents, each one of them with a mind of their own, that nonetheless supported him and moved in concert when he desired to walk somewhere. It took him so long to step out of his father's shadow, but he was beloved by the entire city when he did. He was a master of sorcery, adept at miracles, and the Blades of the Darkmoon, the covenant formed to him, protected the people at all times, and traveled side by side with heroes on their quests." She grabbed a thin, silver chain that had previously hung innocuously around her neck, and dipped under her breastplate, pulling out a circular, silver amulet, with a crescent moon on one side, and a sword running over it, and what appeared to be serpents between the lines delineating the edges of the crescent. "The badge of my covenant," she supplied. "One of my most prized possessions."
"Wait, wait, wait-wait-wait," Nora said. "He had snakes. Snakes with their own brains! For legs?!"
"Yes. How is having serpents for legs more difficult to accept than a deity? I'm not asking you to worship him or anything. I'm just saying that he's real, and I studied how to fight under him."
Jaune reentered the conversation. "That's just… wow. Just wow."
"Okay," Nora spoke again, "Now that I think about it, snake legs are actually pretty cool. But! This was originally about miracles. And you said miracles could shoot lightning! Soooooo, could you teach me to shoot lightning?"
"No," Vyliria deadpanned.
"Why nooooot?" Nora whined.
"Because your semblance is absorbing electricity directly into your muscles to gain a ridiculous power boost. Giving you the ability to conjure lighting is going to make a feedback loop that is just begging to end with something exploding and I don't want to chance it being me."
Ren silently mouthed thank you to her, before actually saying, "So you have a literal, all-powerful god with… snakes for legs… that rules your city."
"No," Vyliria started. "The gods are powerful, but not omnipotent. They could fail, they could die, just as easily as you or I." She brutally stamped down the memories that threatened to surface. "Gwyndolin was a master of illusory magics, and given his age I can say with reasonable confidence that he founded that field, save for a few spells crafted in Oolacile. He could create illusions so potent, they became physical, and could interact with the real world as if they were flesh and blood. The vast majority of the Silver Knights of the city were illusory constructs of his, able to act autonomously, and able to fight and kill just as easily as their brothers of flesh and blood. But… this conversation started to speak of miracles. So let's speak of them." And not at all because I really don't want any of you to ask what happened to the rest of the gods, she added in her head.
"...Right," Jaune uneasily said. "So we've established that miracles come from your gods, which are actually real."
"Correct. One studies a tale of a deed or deeds a god or one closely associated to them did, reflects upon its revelation, and reciting a shortened, succinct poem summarizing the tale, focuses their will through their catalyst, which in the case of a miracle is a talisman or chime, in order to cast a spell. The power to do so is drawn from one's faith. So would any of you consider yourselves devout? Particularly spiritual? Believing in a higher power, in destiny, that there is a reason behind everything, even loss and suffering?"
"Not really," Nora butted in before anyone else could even start to consider their answer, "I don't think there's a problem that I couldn't solve with Magnhild," she continued, hefting her grenade launcher that could also transform into a warhammer… which could also shoot grenades. "Or pancakes. Pancakes can solve a lot of problems too," she finished with a grin.
Ren was, interestingly enough, the next person to speak. After a few minutes of contemplation, he began "I don't believe that there's always a reason behind suffering. Sometimes, terrible things happen, and all we can do is minimize the damage…" he trailed off, gaining a distant look, head tilting to the floor. Vyliria knew enough from the ghosts of her own past to know when someone was reliving moments they would rather not, but also knew she wasn't one in a position to pry. Nora also noticed, and put a hand on Ren's shoulder, looking him in the eyes as he looked back, before giving each other a light smile and as Ren got back to his normal disposition.
After another brief pause, Jaune gave his answer, "I think I'd rather figure out my 'sword-and-board,' as you put it, before I start playing with lighting. I mean, I saw what you did to that deathstalker, and I'd rather not mess up with something that can cause that level of damage in my hands."
"A perfectly fine sentiment," Vyliria answered, "Gwyn knows how long Cornyx, my old pyromancy mentor, ran me ragged on learning the more basic ways to manipulate flame before moving on to the more volatile ones."
Pyrrha finally voiced her response. "I don't know if I'd consider myself religious, but I believe in destiny. Not a fate set in stone, but that everyone has a defining goal in their life that they work to. Everything has a reason, even if it isn't readily apparent."
Vyliria hummed. "Interesting." She held her hands near to each other, and in a flare of burning ash, a white cloth came to be in her hands. It was frayed, with a yellow strip of cloth tying it into a shape reminiscent of a bell on one end, with a red cloth tied beneath the yellow. On its tip was drawn a sun with eyes and a smile. "Hold this for a few moments, and tell me if you feel anything out of the ordinary."
The Mistralian gingerly took the cloth from the unkindled, clasping it in both hands, and looked down at it. Pyrrha wondered what she was supposed to be feeling when a sudden tingle lanced from the cloth up her arms, and it suddenly felt significantly warmer than it was a few moments prior. But it wasn't a burning warmth; it was gentle, like the sun's rays on a summer morning.
"It feels… warm. Like the sun shining down on me while I'm lying in a field," she said after a few more seconds.
Vyliria stared for an uncomfortable period, before finally finding her voice. "That… is a talisman. But… not just a regular talisman. That piece of sacred cloth belonged to a man named Solaire of Astora. He was a knight of the sun, perhaps the most famous member of the covenant of the Warriors of Sunlight to ever be. His unwavering faith was spoken as legends, as he helped all those he could during his quest to find his very own sun. Gwyndolin never personally spoke to him, but he knew of him as he lived, and spoke to those who did speak to him. I learned several stories about the man that have likely been otherwise lost to time." Vyliria took another few seconds of silence, before adding, "For the talisman to react to you like that… it has judged you, and found you acceptable. It is an ancient thing, one of the most prized possessions Solaire had. I have no doubt that some part of him imprinted itself upon his talisman. It deeming you worthy is tantamount to the knight of sunlight himself saying you are fit to use it. I… I would be remiss in not teaching you miracles if that is the case."
"Oh, my. I'll do my best to honor Solaire, then," Pyrrha responded.
"I have no doubt you will," Vyliria spoke in an approving tone. "Do you know if one of the training halls is open? It's probably best we don't go casting explosive spells in the dorms."
"One of them should certainly be open this early in the semester."
"Right, let us be off then."
"Cool," Jaune interjected. "We'll just sit here. And do normal, non-magical, boring things."
Vyliria stared at JNR. "I didn't say you couldn't come and watch. I just said that it was a terrible idea to be tossing lighting about in the dorms."
"Oh. Okay then. Let's go," Jaune replied sheepishly.
()
Roughly twenty minutes later, JNAPR stood in one of the many training halls Beacon had. Much like Professor Godwitch's classroom, each of these featured an arena to practice in, but were much smaller, being meant for a single team, or two at most to practice in on their own time. Jaune, Nora, and Ren sat off to the side, as Vyliria and Pyrrha walked to the center. Vyliria called to her storage once again, but this time instead of a weapon or a catalyst, she called forth a book. It was thick, bound in leather, with pages of parchment, not paper, and its pages were not in the best condition.
"This," the unkindled began, "is a tome in which I painstakingly, by hand, compiled every story behind every miracle I have ever learned. And let me tell you, when you have to copy this from the word of mouth of a blind woman translating it from braille, this took a while."
"Why from braille?" Jaune asked from the side.
"Trust me, that's a long story, and not worth the time it would take to tell it," Vyliria responded. Turning back to Pyrrha, she said, "I suppose that you can just take photos of the pages with your own scroll to read them on your own time outside these sessions, but I'd ask that you not share said photographs to others. Anyways, perhaps the most elementary of miracles is called force. A fragment of the tale behind wrath of the gods, it creates a shockwave that can block smaller projectiles, and pushes nearby opponents back. On its own, the blast does no harm, but if you were to use it at the edge of a cliff… well, it provides a convenient way to deal with foes atop high places."
She motioned for Pyrrha to sit next to her, and cracked open the book, gently, and with reverence both borne of respect for the contents and for desire not to damage it, flipping the pages to a picture of a shining golden city, with a great cathedral in the background. Underneath was a picture of a white shockwave, and beneath that was written the word Force, followed by a script in a small, yet elegant cursive.
"Wrath of the gods is a miracle born of a great tale, one when the gods waged war upon the dragons, and their explosive rage when the wyrmkin burnt down a city filled with non-combatants. Force is an excerpt from that tale, of a messenger from the city's garrison, sent to beseech the gods for aid, who was beset by bandits upon a cliffside road. The messenger, outnumbered yet unwilling to die and fail his city, called upon his faith to resist the brigands, and suddenly formed the miracle in question as an answer to his prayers, knocking his foes to their deaths, yet leaving his own steed unharmed."
"Your gods waged war with dragons?" Pyrrha asked in a confused manner.
"Perhaps… I should go further back. In the beginning, the world was formless and grey. An endless expanse of grey fog, grey stone, grey archtrees, and grey, everlasting dragons with timeless stone scales. No one knows how long this age lasted, or if there was indeed anything before it. At some point, however, the First Flame came into being. With this Fire, came disparity. Life and Death, Heat and Cold, and Light and Dark. Beings who had lived in the darkness beneath the earth came upon the first flame." She paused, and placing her tome down, called forth her pyromancy flame. "The pyromancy I am about to show is called mirage. I learned it in a forsaken corner of the Grand Archives of Lothric. It allows one to show their memories to others to observe." Raising her hand aloft, flames rose up from it, forming a shimmer that grew, before the inside became opaque. "Continuing from where I left off, from the First Flame were drawn the souls of the Lords. The Death Soul went to the Gravelord, Nito, the First of the Dead." The flames shifted, showing a painting of a massive being, made out of countless skeletons, with a gigantic skull for a head, and one arm ending in a massive blade made of bone. "The Witch of Izalith, queen of a people similar, yet different to the gods, took the Life Soul." Another painting, of a woman, her face obscured by a hood, save for her lips, with a flame held between her hands. "Gwyn, King of the gods, took the Light Soul." Yet another painting, of a giant of a regal man, whose presence seemed something greater than a mere mortal, even as presented in the memory of an artwork, wearing a great, pointed crown, bearing a massive beard, and flanked by a legion of knights in silver, holding a flame of his own. "And the Furtive Pygmy, so easily forgotten, took the Dark Soul of Man." Not a painting this time, but a memory, of a great black flame, the bottom of the mirage revealing something that seemed to be red cloth but nothing more, dunes seemingly made of ash in the background, along with a partly ruined tower of unidentifiable architecture, and storm clouds covering the sky behind those.
"That's not a painting!" Nora shouted from the sidelines.
"Yes, it's a direct memory, rather than a memory of me looking at a painting. I… viewed that memory from someone else, who viewed it from someone before them, and so on, stretching back a lot of generations. Moving on, with the strength of Lords, they challenged the dragons, but could not break their stone scales, and the immortal beasts struck them down. They bided their time. The Witch and Nito kept their Lord Souls to themselves. Gwyn severed some small pieces from his, to give to his most trusted followers. The Furtive Pygmy… he kept a significant piece to himself, and gave a moderate amount to his direct descendants, but the vast majority of the Dark Soul was torn asunder by him, each miniscule piece going into the birth of a new member of a new race. The shards of the Dark gave birth to humanity." She held her hand up, and from it, a black sprite slowly rose, floating gently in her palm and sprouting two white eyes. "A souvenir, from when I visited the Ringed City, who wants outsiders even less than Irithyll. This is humanity, in its rawest form. An infinitesimal fraction of the Dark Soul within us all."
"That's inside all of us?" Pyrrha asked with a slight alarm. The rest of JNPR looked on with apprehension.
"Yes, indeed, it's evenly suffused throughout your being. And without it you wouldn't be human, now would you?" She gently closed her hand, and the sprite sunk back into her. "You still have your own souls. Just, you have humanity within you, too. And so long as you don't decide to start learning hexes, you'll almost certainly never interact with it in your life. Which explains why Remnant has no idea they exist. So I wouldn't worry about it. Anyways, whilst the lords were dwelling in their underground cities, dealing with their recent defeat, they were approached, by none other than a dragon. Seath the Scaleless was his name, the grandfather of sorcery, once the duke of Anor Londo. For reasons the world never deigned to explain, he was born without the stone scales that granted his kin immortality. Suffice to say, on account of his mortality, he was not treated kindly by those same kin who did possess eternal life." This time was again a painting, this one being of a massive dragon, pale blue, seemingly without eyes, bearing four thin, gossamer wings, and with some manner of tentacles instead of legs. "He offered the Lords a deal: sparing his life, and the use of their resources to research his own path to immortality, in exchange for the revealing of his kin's one weakness. The terms were agreed upon, and Seath revealed that lightning could pierce and peel apart their stone scales, rendering them susceptible to both death and time. And so Gwyn's mighty bolts ripped apart the dragon's invulnerability, and his silver knights struck them from the skies with clouds of greatarrows. The Witch and her daughters weaved great firestorms, to burn the archtrees so the dragons could not hide. Nito unleashed a miasma of death and decay, to strike down those who fought on the ground, and returned those of the Lord's forces who were slain to fight again. Seath the Scaleless betrayed his own, slaughtering them personally by the dozens. And man descended upon the survivors like a horde of locusts, and so the dragons were no more. Thus began the Age of Fire. The tales of the miracles that you will learn are near exclusively tales from the war with the dragons, though a few were created later on, and some of the hex miracles, which I won't be teaching you, were created much later." The pyromancy was dispelled, and Vyliria continued as she picked up her tome again. "My apologies for the lengthy exposition, but I figured that some context as to all the stories you'll learn in order to cast would make understanding things easier. Now, since you're properly armed with knowledge, let us get back to force, shall we?"
"Alright," said Pyrrha, with a new confidence, sitting next to Vyliria as the unkindled sat and placed her tome back on her lap. "So you said this was part of a larger story where a messenger was beset by bandits?"
"Indeed, and afterwards, when you've taken the tale into your heart, I'll go over the incantation to cast, and we'll start practicing. Now to begin, 'In the days of the war against the dragons, one of the early cities of man was beset upon by a host of the wyrmkin, numbering in the hundreds. Though built underground, the beasts were tearing up the earth to reach the inhabitants within. Desperate, the city sent a messenger along a secret tunnel that would bypass the dragons above, on the fastest horse they had available, to travel to the gods and beseech Gwyn for aid. Riding forth, the messenger, a member of the garrison of the city…"
()
A/N: Yes, I had to make the magic Sunny-D joke. But with a non-copyrighted version that exists on Remnant. Just like all the other slightly off-named big brands in the show that can't be sued because of said slight name-changes.
Vyliria is mixing in a great deal of lies with the truth here. She needs to tell a convincing story, while keeping secret the fact that she's a quasi-immortal walking corpse who suddenly woke up untold millennia after killing a literal age. She also has a great deal of past traumas she's trying to keep a lid on. Even besides backstory elements I don't plan on revealing soon (and ones I do), one doesn't literally lose count of the amount of times they've suffered a violent demise without some kind of mental issues rearing their heads.
In other news, Pyrrha Nikos has Solaire's talisman. I wonder what that might lead to.
I totally made up Mirage as a pyromancy, but I thought the concept was cool, and that it would work great for exposition. Picture the casting of warmth, but instead of a floating flame, you have a shimmer, inside of which are the images being shown.
Methinks that our unkindled is lying about a certain Nth times handed down memory. As for what actually happened with Gael… well, spoilers.
Once again, for the most part, I'm completely making up the tales behind DS miracles. If it says something in the lore, I'll try and incorporate it, like I did with Lightning storm being a story of the Nameless King and his Stormdrake back in Ch 1, but otherwise this content is not canon to DS. On the other hand, under the DS clause of not being incorrect if it doesn't contrast lore that is stated, these tales could be correct, but again, unless Miyazaki gave this a gander and said, "yeah, that's 100% it," it's not guaranteed to be so.
If there's enough interest, at some point when this story is done, I will attempt to write the story behind Wrath of the Gods (and by extension, Force) that Vyliria started. It'll probably be a relatively short one though. And if there's interest in any of the stories behind any other miracles, I may or may not attempt the same should enough people request it. But I am absolutely finishing this before attempting any side projects. Spoiler alert on wrath of the gods, though: the city is completely destroyed by the time the messenger gets back, and WotG is born from the explosive vengeance the gods reap. They might have ultimately screwed humanity over in their own desire for power, but not all of the gods in DS were completely evil. I would even argue that Nameless was a good guy; he only attacks you because the player walks into his house (which is really out of the way, and not easy to reach), kills his ancient wyvern, loots and wrecks his house, and then rings his giant-ass bell. And then you kill his lifetime companion, the game camera- I mean, The King of the Storms. So he has a pretty good reason to make your life a living hell if you go after him.