Chapter 49

To Live

Deep within the darkest depths of the underground, in a cave never witnessed by the living, a single man in armor scorched black clutched a small girl. Her golden eyes glowed despite the suffocating dark, glassy fog of death overtaking their soft splendor, body shivering less and less with every ounce of blood that pulsed from the wound carved upon her chest. The girl's life faded, and with it the sand in an unseen hourglass. Everything had led up to this moment.

The gods and ungodly, all with a stake in the events of fate had played their hand, rolled their dice, and placed their pieces. Hundreds of eyes watched this man, this undead clad in armor scorched black cradling the form of a girl no older than ten. The hundreds held their breath, focused on this moment. The Thousands waited for a command from the masters that had plotted. Hundreds of thousands stood ready, for what they did not know. And the millions, the billions of lives walked ignorant of what transpired. Across time and space, all life past and yet to come was at the mercy of this moment.

Never in time had the cycle come so close to breaking, the Chosen wandered so far from the beaten path, never had so much been risked by the powers that be, both above and below.

Voices whispered and rumbled.


Coated in the warmth of another's life, I felt true fire blaze within me. Tentacles of black retrained me as Doll died and blood still pumped from her mortal wound, heart still beating.

"Look on, Undead, and know your transgressions against those you serve. The cause you uphold."

Within me the fire roared, yearning to break free. My soul raged, body shivered, mind sundering with the madness of inaction. Doll's eyes began to slide closed, her body stiffening with stony death, lips losing their genuine smile. She relaxed, succumbing to her fate.

Walls damaged, duty lost, discipline gone, and sense cast aside. I shattered any final remnant or hope that I might return to Lordran. That my life would return to normal. That the days of adventure with Orlai would ever return. Even if I did not see Orlai again, kill the gods, or finally die, I would not let this girl die. The daughter of Priscilla, a child born of a mistake, one who had found me in this place of dark, and sought to pull me up. I had left her, and she had died for it. This would not be though. I would not let it be.

The chaos in my mind quieted. Slowing my breathing and focusing in, the rage and emotion faded, distant and thrumming. The broken fortress lay silent, shattered and open for all to see. Walking among its wreckage I wandered into the deepest sanctum. A reflection of myself waited there, and I knew him as a stranger. Once I was him, looking through his eyes, feeling his emotions, living within his body. Once, I was human. Reaching out, he mirrored me, and our black armors fell away, my eyes regaining their brown, and a warmth blossomed within my chest. I embraced what I knew had never gone, what made me what I am, gave me the power that all feared, that I feared.

The Dark Soul.

The castle in my mind, my sanctuary of sanity, was swept away in the torrent. And I began to remember….


My heart beat with a steady thrum.

Eyes opening, I stood upon a cobblestone street. Carts rattled across uneven stone, the voices and chatter of a bustling city, colorful clothing and varied faces, stalls of goods and strange curiosities.

I blinked.

Smell of burning firewood, spices and meat, bread and potatoes, someone cooking a meal. A kitchen of wooden cabinets and a metal pot. I looked up at a woman in a simple dress and she at me, her face smiling but unrecognizable, hair long, eyes soft. She spoke a word, a name.

I blinked.

An altar. Blood. Circle of pain around my right eye. A knife in a priest's hands. A church. Chanting and prayers, a ceremony. A sacrifice. Their voices hammered me yet imparted no meaning. I did not struggle or scream, only gritted my teeth and bore what I had accepted.

I blinked.

A thing, human but so withered and broken it could not be described as such. His eyes were sunken pits of black, skin pulled tight over a meatless skeleton, fingers clutching a small ball of burning black. He offered it to me, but held the ball close as he asked in a brittle voice,

"What is your truth?"

I blinked.

The world swallowed, forests aflame and fields of ash, cities empty and countries dead. Undead, husks of mindless flesh and murder, walked the lands of the once living. Amidst it all, the death, the suffering, the gods, the ungods, I stood. Through chance it had been given to me and though chance I still stood.

Or was it chance?

Heart silent, body cold, I marched forward into the Darkness, embers of hope safe within me. Yes… this was the way. Always forward. You could not step back, only left or right, but still always going forward. There was always hope, always a way forward, to give in was to lose purpose, to Hollow, a madness leading to a fate worse than death. This was the way.


Absolute strength flooded me, dizzying and overwhelming, The Dark surged forth and seized me in its torrent. Eyes turning black, tentacles of dark seeping into me I was subjugated by them, bending and groaning. The Voices screamed and called, fangs and talons rending my mind and body, a whirlwind of knives swirling and wailing. Time slowed and my vision flattened as a huge weight crashed upon my shoulders, trying to force me down. I exhaled, maintaining my footing. The Dark cackled, laughing at my resistance,

"YOU THINK TO DEFEAT US?" The pressure grew, "WE ARE YOU, WE HAVE GIVEN YOU LIFE, MADE YOU WHAT YOU ARE, YOU ARE NOTHING WITHOUT US!

WITHOUT

US

YOU

DIE!"

Part of me knew they were right, that they… It was why I had gotten so far. Why I never died, why the cycles hinged upon me, why the gods and ungodly feared me. Without it I was just another undead. But without me, it had no host. Without me it would not have existed for so many years. Without my servitude, my will, my strength, it would have withered long ago.

"No more." I gripped the darkness, not with talons of black but the hands of a man, "I've let you control me for too long." It wriggled and screeched, "I've hid from you for the last time." I dragged It forward, wrestling the Darkness and drawing the tentacles in. The pressure grew heavier, threatening to burst from within rather than crush me. But I fought, retaining the Dark.

"FOOL." My neck snapped and the world went black.


Those that watched cheered or cried out in horror as the Chosens head snapped back, and he froze for a moment. Then, head slowly rolling back around, his eyes became blackened pits, smile curling back into a vicious grin, hood and mask becoming a deep veil. The angles of his armor harshened, claws wrapping around the corpse of the girl with a newfound menace, blackness seeping from him and overwhelming the dark of the cave. He stood, lifting the girl aloft and laughed,

"Finally."

The cycle had been flipped.

The Dark surged, Flame guttering out to finally die. Now, the Age of Dark would rise and the cycle would finally be broken. The Gods would resist, but the end was nigh. The voices hissed and screeched triumphantly. Time would resume, this false world had hung like a glass about to shatter upon stone, and now all would be right again. Now, the future would come. The Chosen looked down at the girl, tentacles reaching out, when, just then, he froze.

The cheering and screams stopped.


I stood firm, a simple shield and broadsword in either hand, knight armor shimmering dully in the setting sun. Or was it rising? A grassy field surrounded me, clouds slowly crawling across the red sky.

"Fool." Growled the thing before me. Black talons and chitinous armored skin, a deep hood fluttering upon its shoulders hid its face. On one shoulder rested a tainted sword, infused with abyssal magics and horrors. On it's other arm a shield, warped and jagged, protected its side. The being was entirely black, and an aura of Dark exuded from it. "We will not let this come to pass. For so long we have tried to speak to you, for you to understand, to know, but this is… too far." It's blade lifted, pointing at me, "You are a simple soul made to do our bidding! Offered to us as sacrifice! You have no free will!"

Through the visor of my helm I sighed,

"Perhaps not, but I have given up too many times. I have pushed aside myself too long. I have let you think for me, for the last time." I raised my shield and bared my teeth, "I will fight for myself."

It screamed, charging, and I rushed forward.

Clashing with a shower of sparks, Its evil blade met my simple shield. Roaring, the Thing shoved me back, unleashing an onslaught of strikes. Calmly, I weathered the storm. Footwork and a strong arm kept the devil at bay. A terrible being I had feared for so long, obeying and submitting to what I thought was unbelievable power, stopped by rudimentary combat skills. I could only smile.

Bracing, I drove through Its attacks, and struck forth with my broadsword. It blocked, halting the weapon with Its shield, and growled at me. Backstepping, it cut at my neck, finding only air as I ducked. Chasing after, not wanting to lose the initiative, I hide behind my shield, eyes just above its edge watching for Its next move.

"BLOOD!" It screamed at me, and slammed the Abyssal blade into my shield. Unfazed I shoved the blade aside, parrying. With a smooth motion I stepped past Its guard, and sliced into its hood, aiming for the collarbone. I felt the blade tip hit armor, and it bounced up into a fleshy mass. Without pause I pressed the sword deep, and withdrew it, following up with a kick to Its stomach. Black ichor poured from the hood and the Thing staggered, whipping its sword arm around at me. Side-stepping, the slice passed over my right shoulder and I swept around to its back, stabbing beneath Its right shoulder and twisting the blade out. I heard a loud pop as the broadsword left flesh, and the arm hung limp, a bone poking out. Its Abyssal blade hit the dirt, released from the black talon. Screaming, the Thing whirled, It's useless arm bouncing off my right pauldron, and It's shield came for my throat. This I met head on. Stance firm and shield ready, I stopped the strike dead, and stared directly into the black hood. Broadsword already in motion, the blade cut like butter through Its cloth hood, hitching for a moment as it met flesh, and beheaded the Thing.

It collapsed in a clattering pile, shrouded head vanishing as soon as it hit ground. The rest of the body began to dissolve, turning to ash as It decomposed.

"What… what have you done?" It whispered.

"What I should have a long time ago."


I blinked and looked down at Doll, still in my arms. Kneeling, I pressed a gauntlet to her wound and cast a healing miracle, knitting the flesh back together. Pausing, I checked her pulse. Feeling nothing I reached out, past her body and mind, finding the cinder of her soul. Gently, I took it in hand and breathed over the dying cinder. It flickered, gasping to life, and the girl in my arms stirred. Withdrawing, I took a seat and held Doll close, watching her still expression.


A white expanse. No wind, so sound, a soft warmth. She did not feel alone here, no suffocation, no sadness, no fear. She just was. The girl's eyes searched for a feature or landmark somewhere, but found none. Deciding against standing around, she began to wander. Walking for some time, she couldn't guess how long, she noticed a distinct cold from somewhere. Wrapping her arms around herself and pulling her thin dress tight the girl continued her journey, looking for someone, but she did not know who.

The cold strengthened. Her chest grew tight, cheeks burning, skin tingling, body shuddering. The cold was familiar, but in the sense of one who knows their enemy. The girl did not want this cold or enjoy it, only knew it. Hurrying, she tried to flee. Vainly she ran from the cold, as if she was running only into its arms. She stopped, desperately searching for something, someone, anything. Darkness began to fall, bringing evermore cold, and she sank to her knees.

"Someone," She whispered, "Can someone please…." The Darkness swallowed her, and she fell into it, tumbling and spinning. But, just as she was certain of her death, her interia slowed, until she came to rest in the arms of a statue. One she knew. Father.


Dolls eyes opened,

"Father?"