A Knight's Promise
Author's Note: I forgot that I'd written a Dark Souls 2 oneshot fic kind of like my Dark Souls fic with Priscilla. I just forgot to post it. LOL. This one has some smut, but also, prepare for a heavy dose of angst. I promise this won't end on a sad note this time.
Inspired also by "Quiet's Theme" by Stefanie Joosten.
"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away."
- Revelation 21:4
"You can never lose me. Someday you will see that I was with you all along. You will find out that what you have loved you can never lose."
― Kate McGahan, Only Gone From Your Sight: Jack McAfghan's Little Guide to Pet Loss and Grief
By: VampireQueenAkasha
~O~
It felt so quiet.
The knight's body was aching from the battle. The smell of blood lingered in her nostrils. Her hands were clenched tightly to the sword. She didn't recognize her own breathing; how shallow and sickly it sounded from her very lips. The mask felt heavier.
"You're not speaking to me even still..." she quietly said.
She had addressed a woman kneeling overhead on a poorly constructed balcony of wood and debris. Wearing simple body armor and a hood, wielding a precious dagger. Dark hair, brown eyes, olive skin. This was Joan, a woman she'd adored long before she found the Mark on her body.
Joan was one of quick wit and reflexes, but she was no swordswoman.
She was following her the entire time in her journey, but in silence. She was hurt, that much was true. But what could she expect when the Hollowing came? Lucatiel was terrified of it, but she had to hope. She had to believe that she could find the Purging Monument in Aldia's Keep. It was a rumor, surely; but she had to believe that it was real.
So for now, she had to keep her heart closed and her mind focused. It would slow the process; make it easier, perhaps.
I don't want to hurt you.
But Joan had been hurt.
Lucatiel simply worked in silence to build a suitable fire for warmth in one of the many abandoned houses. Joan kept her silence.
The fire was comforting and Lucatiel removed her mask, taking a moment to breathe. She could see Joan's shape overhead through the breaks in the wall.
"Remember when we first met?" she said, quietly. "It was on a night like this. I'd like to keep that memory of us. It helps me breathe a little."
She laughed; a soft, sad sound.
"You tried to steal my sword and sell it for money, do you remember?" Lucatiel continued, despite the silence, "I forgave you. I understood what it was like to have nothing." Her voice began to tremble with emotion. But she fought to keep it in check. "And you were always visiting me in the night. Normally, people kept a safe distance when they see this mask. But you..."
The memories of Joan sharing a laugh with her. Drinking with her.
Sharing a bed with her.
But tonight? Just silence.
Lucatiel scarcely made out a small, quiet sigh above her. It carried the pitch of one heartbroken. But did she not see that Lucatiel too was heartbroken? That her silence was hurting her? She had chosen this silence because Lucatiel had chosen to close her heart to her. Nothing was ever certain and she was losing herself every day.
But it was aching; the need to hold her, the comfort that came with being near her.
Please, talk to me...
Please.
The silence continued on and Lucatiel tried to find sleep beside the fire.
But the cold, salty air awoke her shortly, as well as the sound of Joan's screams.
She jolted upwards, looking around before rushing out of the house, spotting the woman being dragged away to a ship by a creature of conjoined reptilian torsos facing away from each other and attached at the waist with one set of legs. One side wielded scimitars.
"Joan!" Lucatiel shouted, diving after her.
Her legs ached from her recent battle, but she charged through, cutting down several undead pirates in her wake. They stood no chance against her blade; blood steamed as it sprayed through the chilled air, filling her senses with the taste and smell of it.
She was on the ship now where the creature had gone, making her way down into it where she found Joan lying in a pool of water, pinned by the creature's heel. She was squirming, struggling to dislodge it by plunging her dagger over and over into its leg.
Lucatiel moved quickly; she jumped with a fierce grunt of effort and the other half of the creature noticed her through the mask it wore.
It let out a growl and swung it spiked club at her. Momentarily distracted, the creature ignored Joan and advanced toward Lucatiel with a series of enraged hisses. The woman jumped, avoiding the scimitar's lethal swings through the air.
The stench of dead bodies and water overwhelmed her, but Lucatiel pushed through it as she cleaved the sickly, rotted flesh of the creature. Disgusting black blood stained the waters and Lucatiel nearly slipped on it as she struggled to find her balance.
This was not how she'd die. She wasn't going to fall prey to this thing.
A scream of rage, rattling voices overhead.
Lucatiel looked up sharply, watching as the monstrosity before her loomed. It lurched forward with a gurgle of pain and blood sprayed from its chest. She was crouched now, ready for the final strike.
"Stay away from her, you filth!" she spat, vicious behind that mask.
She jumped now, drove her sword into one of the eye slots of the helmet the creature wore. It screamed, thrashing back from her. Lucatiel bared her teeth, hissing with effort as she watched it stagger back, feebly swinging its arms before collapsing into a heap.
The water grew dark from its blood and the smell overpowered Lucatiel's nostrils. But her mind was elsewhere immediately; to Joan, who was laying on her back, holding her arm.
She dropped her sword and rushed over, kneeling down to help her. But Joan's arms were suddenly around her and she started sobbing. Lucatiel was stunned, her hands lingering in the air for a moment.
"Gods, I'm sorry!" Joan's words were muffled in the space between Lucatiel's shoulder. "Forgive me! I'm so sorry!"
Lucatiel's chest tightened. She couldn't breathe.
A shaky breath escaped her and she returned the embrace. Joan's hold was tight, her body trembling. Lucatiel could see that she was hurt; her arm was bloodied, dripping into the water.
"You're hurt..." Lucatiel gasped, pulling away.
Joan looked down at her arm, letting out a sharp hiss as she touched it with one hand. Lucatiel gently pulled her to her feet and they slowly made their way out of the ship.
O
The sun was warm as it shined through the window.
Joan giggled.
Lucatiel smiled warmly.
They laid together in the comfortable bed, exchanging kisses beneath the silken sheets. Lucatiel's hands roamed her back, her lips finding her soft throat. Joan leaned her head back, a breathless sigh leaving her lips.
"You're going to make me late again." she said, with an affectionate smile.
Joan ran a hand through the long, glorious locks of her lover's hair. "Mmm, just a few moments more? I rarely get to wake up to you."
Lucatiel shut her eyes, enjoying the sensation of Joan's nails scraping against her scalp. A soft murmur of appreciation and she draped her body over Joan's, growing comfortable in the warmth of their naked skin against each other.
"Yes, perhaps," Lucatiel replied, after a moment. "We can spent all evening tonight together after my training with Aslatiel. Assuming he doesn't make an attempt to make me look foolish again."
"He won't. You know how much he cares about you."
Lucatiel made a note of disapproval. She thinned her lips and looked away, but relaxed when Joan ran a hand across her naked shoulder, her lips following a trail. It made her skin prickle with heat and her eyes close in a soft, pleased sound.
"Alright, I suppose I'll take your words into consideration." she eventually said.
Food was brought to them and they both remained in bed while they feasted. Lucatiel shared stories with the other woman about her life and childhood, to which Joan listened intently.
"As you know, there is only one way up in Mirrah. Join the Order, and prove yourself in battle." Lucatiel told her, "My family had little fortune, and no name. I had to carve out a piece of the world for myself with two things. My sword, and my loyalty to my Lord."
Joan nodded her head. "Was it difficult?" she asked.
Lucatiel nodded, taking a bite from a grape. "Life was hard, but I never gave it a second thought." she admitted. "I had swift success on the battlefield, and quickly attained respectable stature."
Joan smiled her approval.
"And what of you?" Lucatiel was curious. "Will I soon come to meet your family as well?"
Joan looked startled by the question. She let out a small laugh. "You wish to meet peasant farmers?"
"I do." Lucatiel told her. "What? I'm serious."
"That would be lovely. Perhaps when I attain enough coin, I can bring home some along with you." Joan told her. "Both are treasure to me. But one will be of greater value."
Lucatiel huffed and Joan grinned at her. "Is the mighty Lucatiel of Mirrah blushing?"
"Oh, hush and finish your meal before you make me late again."
Joan let out a sharp hiss.
It snapped Lucatiel from her daydream as the other woman worked to thread the cut on her arm. She had removed her leather armor to work better. They had abandoned the warf and took shelter in a home just barely outside Majula.
Undressing herself to her trousers and shirt granted some relief; Lucatiel could relax better.
It was quieter here. The sun had begun setting.
Lucatiel watched her from behind her mask. She was grateful that the other woman was talking to her again after a week of silence. The talking did ease the pain a bit.
"Do you need my help?" Lucatiel eventually asked.
Joan looked up sharply at her. The look on her face was uncertainty; she opened her mouth to answer, hesitated before smiling weakly.
"No, I'm alright," she said. "Thank you."
The only sound that filled the air was the squishing of flesh as Joan resumed stitching the wound on her arm. It wasn't as terrible as Lucatiel believed; a slash around her upper arm from what was possibly in her struggle to defend herself. Had it been from that creature, her entire arm was sure to have been cut off.
The sight of blood.
"We should make our way forward..." Joan told her, rising and making her way to a nearby table. Her breath was hurried, her expression filled with distractions. "I think I saw a map - Ah! Here! Through this place..."
Lucatiel rose and made her way over to the table. She noticed that Joan wasn't paying attention to the wound at her arm now. It had been suitably tended to for the moment.
There was a map in the wood. Joan indicated a place with one finger. "This place here." she said. "It could lead us straight into the woods. We can reach the Keep there."
"Of course." Lucatiel nodded her head.
She gave Joan a look from behind her mask. Hesitation.
"Joan..." she began.
Joan looked at her, eyes filling. She sharply turned her head away when she sensed the other woman's gaze behind that mask.
Lucatiel carefully reached out and placed a hand over hers. She hesitantly removed the mask from her face and Joan looked up at her. Her features twisted and she turned completely to face her. A hand reached up to touch the patch of flesh around her eye where the hollowing had started to affect her face.
"Do you believe we will find it?" Lucatiel questioned.
"I want to believe that, yes." Joan assured her, "It's there. I know it. You've heard the stories of Aldia and his collections. It will help you. It MUST."
Lucatiel smiled a little.
"Forgive me for my silence..." Joan shut her eyes, leaning against Lucatiel's hand when it came to her cheek. She held it there for comfort. "I just couldn't bear it. The thought of how cruel it is. To brand you this way. Is this always our fate? To be denied free will?"
Her hands reached behind Lucatiel's neck looking up at her with a sorrowful smile. Lucatiel shivered and closed her eyes, cupping her chin and lifting it to properly share a kiss on her lips. A hand went to the small of her back, pulling her flush against her body. The warmth of it, coupled with the close proximity comforted her greatly.
"I will not forget my name," Lucatiel promised. "I pray not to. And I pray to have you my one true memory to guide me from the dark."
There was the melody; that was the feeling Lucatiel remembered when she held her. It made the knife twist deeper, the hurt stronger. But she wanted to feel everything, even as her mind started to fade.
Joan's hands were at her waist now, holding her tightly.
A stirring was there, whispering in the corner of her mind.
She cupped Joan's cheek like a treasure, pulling away only a little to question with her eyes. Joan met her gaze, gave the slightest of nods.
Yes.
Please.
Comfort one another; Lucatiel missed the feel of her lips and skin. Their journey had gone on for too long without such contact.
Lucatiel missed her.
"Come..." she breathed, against her lips.
Joan was trembling now, a shaky gasp escaping her. The warmth of Lucatiel's breath was just enough to stir the same need in her as well.
They backed up toward a nearby bed of of hay and Joan's fingers were at her belt, working at the buckle. Lucatiel helped her by steadying her hands and tugging the belt free of its confines.
Joan looked at her eye, a quick look of pain touching her expression. But it didn't last when she felt Lucatiel's hands working in her coat, brushing against her ribs before meeting her lips again.
Lips still connected, she gently urged Joan onto the bed and the other woman was on her back, reaching for her. Lucatiel was already undoing the buttons of her shirt and she hesitated, glancing down at Joan who looked flushed and wanting. She didn't know how the woman would handle seeing the Mark again.
Joan stopped her hand when she reached for a nearby candle, intent on blowing out the flame and bathing them in darkness. She was disappointed with her choice, but Lucatiel smiled and leaned down to kiss her.
"You can see the real me in your mind, my dearest." Lucatiel assured her, placing soft, gentle kisses against her collar bone. Her own voice trembled. She had to relax a little.
A soft whimper, hands working to remove her shirt. Joan didn't like the decision, but she accepted it.
But the dim light of the moon through the cracks did give her some sight of the twisted, gnarled Mark across Lucatiel's shoulder; it had appeared only weeks ago, but had spread quickly. She didn't want to scare her with the sight of it any more.
But her breathing stopped when she felt her hand there. Right on the hideous mark on her shoulder. Joan didn't look frightened, but just wounded by it.
Lucatiel's hands worked into her shirt to push it from her shoulders. She leaned back a little to remove her boots and undo her trousers. Such a complicated affair that made her huff with irritation until Joan sat up, letting out a small laugh and helping.
Lucatiel laughed gently as well and it eased the unpleasantness from a few moments ago. She felt like she had when they first met this way.
Joan kissed Lucatiel's throat, feeling the other woman's pulse hammering beneath her lips. The knight refused to remove her shirt and kept it loosely on. But Joan ignored that now in place of teasing her hands around her waist, feeling little scars that had come from countless battles.
Lucatiel leaned over her, hand cupping one of her breasts as she met her lips again; she was then palming the soft flesh delicately before stroking a thumb across one taut nipple, earning a shudder and a gasp from Joan.
Her other hand moved lower, gently moving her knee open so that she could brush her fingertips up and down the length of her inner thigh. It made Joan's hips twitch for more and Lucatiel chuckled softly. A deep, alluring noise that made her skin feel hot from that sound alone.
"Please..." Joan whispered.
It had truly been too long; but Lucatiel wanted this to last and savor it, throughout the night, as far as she was concerned. But the feel of her tugged at her self control.
Her hand moved further in, breathing thickly when she felt the warm, damp curls of her lover. She was already so very wet for her. And it thrilled her, in a sense to know that she was responsible for doing such a thing to her.
"Gods..." Lucatiel heard herself breathing.
The woman's deep voice, coupled with the lust behind it had Joan moan softly when their lips met, circling her arms over Lucatiel's shoulders to hold her tightly. She let out the faintest whimper when she felt the knight's hand move gingerly over her, brushing over either side of that delicate little nub aching for her attentions.
She didn't bother stifling the moan that burst from her lips when Lucatiel's fingers found their ease into her, pressing deeply where she was needed. The knight rested her head in her shoulder and she felt her breath quickening, heard the low, deep moan against her and she jerked her hips up for more. Well, the knight gave her more.
Lucatiel's fingers found a rhythm; slow, but gradually building in tempo at the same speed of Joan's hips twitching up into them. The movements earned a throaty sound from Lucatie; appreciative and hungry before she buried her head into her neck.
Those hands were rough - just as a knight's hands were meant to be - and found spots deep inside of her that drew the most lovely sounds from Joan's lips.
"L-Lucatiel." Joan gasped out.
Her name gasped out in such a needy pitch had Lucatiel's breath catch. She felt her rocking against her and she twitched her hips up in response. Those particularly skilled fingers were pushing her to the end so quickly and she fought it. Gods, did she fight it. She wanted it to last.
"Go ahead, come for me." she breathed.
"I can't..." Joan moaned, "I can't."
"Yes, you can." Lucatiel encouraged, her breath strained as she mouthed Joan's soft throat. Her teeth pressed into her shoulder. "Let yourself go."
The urgency of her rhythm, coupled with the speed of Lucatiel's driving fingers, Joan could resist no longer. And she came with a guttural cry, one that was smothered by a fierce kiss from Lucatiel's lips.
She was trembling as she rode out the last lingering shocks of her release and Lucatiel's fingers gently inched themselves from her.
Another shiver and Joan took a moment to collect herself before reaching down to paw at Lucatiel's thighs. The woman above her hissed softly, dark eyes focusing on her. She was aching herself and the woman certainly wanted to test her self control.
"Lucatiel," Joan murmured, "Don't you want...?"
Oh yes. She did want. Very much.
Lucatiel's breath was shallow as she sat up in the bed, taking Joan's hips and pulling her closer. Joan helped her along and the knight spread her legs, giving the damp, sensitive folds a few gentle strokes. Joan sighed, twitching against her hand with renewed lust.
Lucatiel adjusted herself a little, bringing their center's together. She gripped Joan's ankles in both hands and pushed her hips, hissing softly at the heat and dampness that welcomed her.
It took a few moments to find a proper rhythm. The need overcame her and when she found her pattern, it was quick and hard.
Joan didn't seem to mind. In fact, the only thing she seemed to be doing was holding her thighs in her hands, taking everything she gave with low, thick groans of pleasure.
A breathless "oh yes" escaped her and it made Lucatiel's brow wrinkle, eyes close with deep, intense focus as she ground herself hard into the woman below her, still gripping her ankles in her hands. She didn't recognize her own throaty noises, louder than the soft whimpers below her.
It was approaching; that wonderful, blissful end. Lucatiel released one of Joan's ankles and cupped her thigh, holding her tightly. Her breathing came higher, faster and Joan encouraged her with a few words that she missed over the roar of blood in her ears.
"Don't stop..." Joan gasped, "Please."
And that was the end of her.
Lucatiel let out a sharp, high cry as she came, stiffening against her. Joan followed shortly after that, gasping out her name with a wounded noise to follow.
It took a few moments of jerking her hips into the other woman, doubling over slightly as she rode out her last lingering pulses that rocked her core. A few high sounds, followed by a couple of minutes of evening her breath and Lucatiel was finally spent.
She shuddered, letting Joan stretch out her leg so that she could relax on top of her. The sweat on their bodies, the air that cooled them comforted her.
"Mmm, are you alright?" Joan questioned, putting her arms around her and kissing her sweat-covered forehead.
"Yes...a moment," Lucatiel breathed, with a small chuckle.
"Of course."
Lucatiel found comfort in Joan's fingers as they lightly caressed her scalp, teasing little locks of hair. A gentle kiss of lips at her forehead and she rested her ear against Joan's chest. Both women took a moment to calm themselves and Lucatiel close her eyes.
Their bodies relaxed, it wasn't long before they felt the grasp of sleep.
It was Joan's soft, barely audible words of "I love you" that stopped her breathing.
She didn't answer. She didn't know how to.
O
Aldia's Keep was a towering mansion ensnared in trees and vines.
The outside garden was filled with murky brown water and Joan studied it for a moment with disgust. She wrinkled her nose, shaking her head.
"That can't be water." she said.
No response.
She frowned, looked over her shoulder and found Lucatiel kneeling nearby, leaning on her sword. She approached her, worried.
"Lucatiel?" she queried.
The woman didn't look at her. That unnerving mask hid whatever she was thinking. She seemed to be breathing shallow, as still as a statue.
"Who are you…?" she asked, as if in a trance. Off of Joan's horrified expression, she quickly corrected herself. "Oh…No, forgive me… I know you…Yes, of course."
Joan was frightened to hear that, but quickly seemed to hide it away. She held out a hand. "Come. Let's get inside and find that Purging Monument."
"Yes," Lucatiel still sounded mystified. "Thank you, Joan." She paused, let out a small sigh. "I'm alright. I told you, I refuse to forget you. I made a knight's vow on that."
They entered the grand hall and were amazed to see the sight of an enormous dragon skeleton draped over the stairs and balcony. Lucatiel tilted her head thoughtfully and Joan's eyes widened with amazement.
"I've never seen a dragon so close!" she exclaimed, "Well, a dead one, perhaps. But still."
Lucatiel approached and placed a hand across the skull of the dragon. "A wretched place, indeed, but not without traces of its former glory." she admitted, "Even surprises such as these."
"The Purging Monument was studied here, as the rumors claim," Joan told her. "Come! Let's look upstairs!"
She was the first up the stairs and Lucatiel looked around, scanning the seemingly empty chamber. Something felt wrong. She could sense it.
"P-please, just stay away." came a small voice from beneath the staircase.
Joan heard it as well, freezing where she stood. She frowned at Lucatiel and the knight shrugged her shoulders. Once she made her way back down, they followed the sound until they found a hooded figure kneeling behind a magical barrier, holding himself.
"No, please, don't come near me. Nothing good will come of it." he begged. "Just leave me alone, please."
Joan glanced at Lucatiel, shrugged her shoulders once before reaching out delicately. "Hello?" she said.
The man looked up, gasping. The two women could see that he was dressed in royal garb fitting of a sorcerer. His features were shaved and pale, his eyes sunken and heavy from lack of sleep.
"Who are you?" Joan questioned.
The man looked terribly frightened. "Leave this place, and leave me be, as I'd not see any harm befall you." he stammered.
Lucatiel let out a small laugh. "Really? Is that so?"
"Please, just leave me alone, I - " The man furrowed his brow, looked around somewhat as if confused. "I haven't said anything strange, have I?"
"Other than ordering us to leave before we are harmed? Nothing of the sort," Lucatiel replied, with a brisk sigh. "You're trapped behind that barrier with no means of doing so. If that is what you wish, we will take our leave after we find what we're looking for."
The man looked at Joan. "What do you seek?"
"A Purging Monument," Joan explained. "I understand that the master of this place has one here?"
The man smiled now, laughing quietly. "Oh, yes. It exists."
Joan grinned, delighted. "Oh, thank Gods!"
She covered her mouth with both hands and even Lucatiel couldn't help but laugh now with great relief. She looked at Joan and grunted when the other woman embraced her.
"One of you going Hollow?" the man suddenly asked, with a sad laugh, "I see. The master tried to cure me with it, but I was too far gone, you see. Now, for everyone's safety, I sit here, and wither quietly away..."
He suddenly doubled over, groaning sharply and holding his head. Lucatiel and Joan watched him in silence, uncertain of what was coming. It took a few moments before his voice came out again. Smoother. Far more dangerous.
"Yes, I see," he crooned, eyes falling to Lucatiel, "You're nicely hollowed, aren't you? Are you tormented by memories? Burdened by guilt?"
"I don't have time for this," Lucatiel snapped, "Madmen in barriers. Come, Joan. Let's find this Monument and leave this fool to his devices."
The man laughed when he watched them start to depart.
"This? This contains my power." he told them, gesturing to the barrier, "Long ago...This...naive vessel of mine set about devising new spells. The fool dreamt of bringing new forms of magic into the world. But instead, he created me. Mostly by chance, but he did a fine job, I must say."
Lucatiel sensed something truly wrong about this man.
"What he sought was strength. And so, I decided to demonstrate," he continued, with a wide smile, "While my vessel slept, I'd find my mark, and hunt him down. But my vessel did not approve. And so while I slept, he sealed the both of us away. Now, I don't have anything against humans, but how is it that you go about defining good and evil? I'm only using what the Gods gave me. How can that be so wrong?"
Lucatiel scoffed, turning away. "Come, Joan. We will waste no more time with such a creature beyond our aid."
The man laughed quietly as they departed. His tone was malicious and gleeful.
"Good. I don't give a fig either way. I will take any lives I need..."
Joan looked up at Lucatiel when the words of the man stuck with her. "Are you quite sure we should leave him this way?" she asked.
"He isn't our concern and he's kept behind that magic barrier," Lucatiel told her. "Let's find this Monument."
Joan glanced up, spotting an enormous cage near a set of double doors. Housed inside the cage was a Basilisk, but it was much larger than any kind she'd ever seen.
Its oversized eyes twitched, focusing on the two women. But those were not its real eyes; the real ones were tiny, above a small, beak-like mouth filled with razor teeth. Its mottled green skin looked paler than what was normal for their species.
"Oh, look at him!" Joan exclaimed.
The Basilisk watched them before laying down onto its belly, letting out a low, weak groan. Lucatiel tilted her head, running her fingers across the bars of the cage.
"What do we do? The poor thing." Joan said, with a sympathetic note. "He looks hungry."
"Yes, and we will be the first thing he eats..."
Joan reached in carefully, placing a hand on the Basilisk's side. The creature inhaled sharply, but made no aggressive moves. It looked too tired and weak to do much of anything to them.
They made their way around the cage, and to the double doors. But a thunderous roar froze them in their tracks. The Basilisk seemed brought to life by the sound; jumping up in the cage and letting out a low, menacing hiss. It slammed its head against the metal bars and the groaning sound began to worry the two.
Lucatiel drew her sword. "No matter what comes through that door, we will face it together." she promised.
The wall erupted in an explosion of wood and stone. Emerging from the smoke was an enormous ogre.
Joan's eyes widened and Lucatiel groaned.
"Oh, damn..." she muttered.
O
The two women took charge of the battle; weapons cutting into the ogre's flesh. The massive being swung its fists blindly, spit and blood flying from its mouth. Each blow cracked the floor to splinters and Lucatiel jumped through the air to avoid each strike.
The ogre's horn on its head cut into her back as she moved to avoid it. A splash of blood struck the floor and Joan was just taking cover to avoid it when she saw the woman doubled over in pain
She quickly acted, moving to her side. Lucatiel let out a shudder of pain, grunting as Joan helped her stand.
"We have to go!" she hissed, "Now!"
Suddenly, the ogre stiffened and a sword was punched through its chest. The two froze, stunned by the sight of it and they watched the ogre collapse in a pool of blood.
Standing there was a figure dressed in the same armor as Lucatiel.
It drew a reaction of shock from her. "Brother?" she whispered, her voice shaking out of her.
Aslatiel was alive. He was here all along. She felt her heart soar and she gave a breathless laugh.
"You're still here!" she exclaimed, rushing to embrace him.
Joan looked worried, unsure of how to react when Lucatiel held her brother. Something was wrong.
"Brother?" Aslatiel's voice was hoarse behind his mask. "I have no sister."
Lucatiel was stung by his words, horrified to hear them. She pulled away somewhat, staring at him from behind her mask.
"What?" she gasped, "Aslatiel, it's me! Lucatiel! Please, I..."
Aslatiel tilted his head. "Wait I... Yes, I see you now." he whispered, his tone going to a darker place, "I see you for what you are. The Dark Sign has you. You're a Hollow."
Lucatiel shook her head. "No! No, no, listen to me, brother - "
"You are not my sister..." Aslatiel snarled, raising his blood-soaked sword. "You want to kill me just like them! And you will die here just like they did."
In a flash, he charged with his sword.
Lucatiel barely managed to avoid the blade and Joan was pushed back by her hand. The other woman hit the floor, hard and she scrambled out of the way as the two fought by the sword.
The metal of the weapons echoed richly through the great hall. Blows were struck with free hands. Grunts of effort and pain.
"Stay back! Please, Joan." Lucatiel pleaded, when she saw the woman take a step forward.
Joan shook her head rapidly. "You can't fight him!"
"Please... I must try."
But Lucatiel knew, truly; an Undead gradually lost his humanity, until his wits degraded completely. Her dear brother had been here the entire time. He had become a Hollow and he would never be human again.
Her dear brother.
Gone.
A vicious strike from Aslatiel's blade dropped her guard. He kicked her knee then, knocking her to the floor with a shout. When she looked up, his sword was there in her face. His expression could not be seen, but there was nothing of the brother she knew in it.
"You'll see it go, won't you?" Aslatiel whispered, "Memories of her will go after your name."
"No! No, I won't!" Lucatiel spat, with resolve, "I won't forget. I made a promise that I'd always remember... Remember..."
She felt her thoughts grow hazy, her mind vanish in dark. Aslatiel had stopped attacking her for the moment, pacing around his sister with his sword scraping along her shoulders. Joan watched in horror, shaking her head rapidly.
"My name..." Lucatiel mumbled. "My...name is..."
"Lucatiel!" Joan's voice cut through the silence.
Lucatiel looked sharply in her direction, gasping out in shock. She looked up at Aslatiel, the memories returning of him; how he'd constantly bested her in combat.
Tonight would be the night that would have to change.
She looked up at her brother and let out a sharp hiss as she rose, the tip of his sword slicing her collar bone in the process. Aslatiel grunted sharply, momentarily thrown by the action.
It gave Lucatiel a chance to swing her sword and catch the end of the blade, sending it spinning end over end through the air before it embedded itself into the floor. Aslatiel looked back at it with a start. When he returned his focus to Lucatiel, her sword pierced through his midsection.
A wet, thick grunt burst from Aslatiel's throat. He grasped feebly at her mask, yanking it off of her face. Lucatiel tugged his mask free, revealing the rotted face of her former brother. She clenched her teeth, overcome with emotion. Her voice shook, tears formed.
"You can rest now...brother." she choked out.
Aslatiel let out a soft, dying groan before slumping to the floor in a heap.
Joan was frozen, her breath stilling. Lucatiel stood there, staring blankly down at her brother's lifeless corpse. She was shaking and didn't realize it until Joan spoke, her voice small.
"Lucatiel?" she whispered.
Lucatiel continued to stare at Aslatiel's corpse. "The curse is doing its work upon me..." she mumbled. "I am frightened... Terribly so... What if the Monument isn't real? What if Aslatiel found it and it failed him?"
"We find out." Joan's voice was tense, forcing resolve. "Come. Let's go."
O
The two women entered the long corridor and found the Monument in a vast chamber, swathed in vines and debris; it was a massive statue made up of pulsing onyx.
Joan grinned, overjoyed. "It's real!" she gasped, hands going to her mouth. "It's really here!"
Lucatiel let out a breathless laugh. "By the King's Mercy, it exists!"
They embraced one another, unable to stop the tears forming.
Lucatiel parted, smiling down at Joan. She brushed a tear from her cheek with her thumb. "Sorry to have burdened you so. After all this time..."
Joan shook her head, holding the hands to her cheeks. "No, no, I love you. I wouldn't let you fade away."
Lucatiel grinned, unable to help herself. Her heart flipped in her chest, her mind entertaining many ideas and future plans with her.
She felt like a child again.
She looked up at the Monument and raised her hand to it.
"Maybe we're all cursed…" she whispered, "From the moment we're born. But we fight even still. We fight until our last breath."
O
Months Later
Joan walked into the farmhouse, greeted by her two parents.
They were shocked to see her still alive, tearful and happy. They embraced, talking together and asking so many questions. And behind them, Lucatiel approached, removing her hat and tucking it beneath her arm. She waited with bated breath.
Her face was pristine, free of the rot of the curse.
"Mother. Father. There's someone you should meet," Joan told them.
She gestured to Lucatiel and the knight cleared her throat, bowing her head once. "Good evening." she said. "It's wonderful to finally meet you."
The two looked at one another before smiling their approval.
"Is this the one you've been seeing?" Joan's father asked.
"She's lovely! And a Knight!" her mother added.
Lucatiel blushed somewhat, letting out a huff of irritation. Joan chuckled warmly, putting an arm around her. That certainly alleviated the annoyance a bit and Lucatiel sighed through her nose.
She looked down at Joan before she couldn't resist her grin.
She gave a chaste kiss on her forehead.
The curse was gone.
And she could live again.