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He was no stranger to pain.
He knew it in many forms, from broken bones, twisted tendons and muscles slashed by sharp metal.
After becoming Undead, he had become familiar with more brutal versions of pain, like having his head severed from his shoulders, or his body exploding into a mass of gore after being crushed by falling rocks.
While instantaneous, those seconds of agony had left scars on his mind and spirit.
Yet, none of his previous experiences compared with the torture that currently ailed him. It was as if lava ran through his veins. It seared his flesh, melted his organs as if they were snow.
He would die.
He had to.
Estus was not an option. He couldn't let his comrades see him like this. The wounds he would carry with him, if he lived, would be too horrendous. He couldn't burden his friends with such sight.
He wasn't scared of death. In many ways, death was a relief, a well-deserved moment of rest that allowed someone's body to heal; as long, of course, as they were Undead like himself.
He lifted his head and stared at the bonfire.
He had to reach it.
He had to be reborn from it.
He—
He collapsed on the swamp, just outside the sewer that housed the coveted flame.
He dragged his body across the muddied and filthy waters. Blood leaked from his eyes, nose, ears and mouth. His face blazed as drops of mud splattered over his exposed muscles.
He wanted to scream, but all he let out was a gurgling and wet grunt.
What have I done?
The thought took over him as he arrived to the bonfire. He stretched an arm toward the flame. It flickered, acknowledging his presence.
It was done. He was allowed to be reborn from its ashes.
As his body collapsed from exhaustion and succumbed to his lethal injuries, he remained trapped in the claws of his final thought.
What did I do?
It wasn't until he returned from the darkness of death with a healthy body and a clear mind that he found out the answer.
He looked at the other side of the swamp, where his greatsword lay stuck on the thick water's surface.
The blade was lacquered with blood.
He swallowed, a hole forming in his stomach.
I didn't have a choice
If he had expected to be comforted by his own answer, he soon realized he was wrong.
The peaceful indifference of knowing he had done what had to be done wasn't soothing. It was painful, more so than his now faded injuries.
"Soap? Are you serious, Oscar? I'm a blacksmith, not a soaper!"
"Obviously. I should have known by your smell alone."
"Exactly." Andre agreed with his arms folded and proud nod. A second later, he directed a resentful glare to the knight. "Oh, go to hell, you sod! You don't exactly smell like flowers."
"That's… quite accurate, actually. But honestly, what did you expect? I haven't been jumping around in royal gardens, you know. Not to worry, a bath is all I need. Don't you agree, Solaire?"
Oscar looked over his shoulder, directly at Solaire. His friend was sitting in a corner, with his back resting heavily against the wall. Oscar's smile wavered when Solaire gave him no answer. He didn't even look at him.
"Solaire?" Oscar tried again, to no avail.
He and Andre looked at each other. The blacksmith shared his concerned semblance. Slowly, Oscar walked toward Solaire and knelt before his friend. He rested a hand on Solaire's shoulder.
Rather than acknowledging him, Solaire turned his head to the opposite side.
Hiding his pain behind a gentle smile, Oscar tried again.
"That would be good, wouldn't it?" he said, his monstrous voice sounding soother than ever, "a bath."
Again, Solaire said nothing.
He had remained immersed in that awful silence ever since their argument with Oswald had taken place.
Solaire's face now bore scars; they were the permanent reminder of the parasite that had taken control over his mind.
Griggs did not know how to remove them, and Oswald had explicitly refused to erase them.
"They are proof of your unspoken sin." The pardoner of Carim had said. "Unless you confess it to me, I shall aid you no further."
Oscar could feel Oswald's stare on his back. The pardoner remained there, infecting the area with dreadful tension, waiting for Solaire to confess his sin.
Though grateful to Oswald for saving Solaire from the agonizing curse the parasite had left him with, he resented the pardoner with all his heart for treating Solaire like a vile criminal.
Oscar wished for nothing else than for Oswald to go away and never return, but the pardoner had been very clear in his intentions.
"I shall remain here until he is ready to confess to me what he's done. And if he doesn't, then I'll go to Blighttown myself to confirm if my suspicions are correct. None of you want this to happen, unless you want me to thrust judgement upon you as well for covering this man's acts. I highly recommend you to be honest with me right now, Warrior of Sunlight. If not for your sake, then for the sake of your comrades that so much care about you."
Oswald had said after his altercation with Griggs had swiftly been put to rest by the intervention of Andre, Siegmeyer, and above all, Solaire.
"Enough!" Solaire had exclaimed while Oscar held him in his arms. "Please, no more. I've already caused enough death and suffering. No more, no more."
Solaire had then hidden his face behind his hand, squeezing it as if he had wanted to rip apart his skin.
"You didn't cause this." Oscar had told Solaire, holding him closer to him and removing his hand from his face before he could hurt himself. "None of this is your fault, Solaire."
"No, don't." Solaire had said, pulling away from Oscar as much as he could. "Don't do this, Oscar. Don't say such things, not when you don't know what I've done."
"And what did you do, Warrior of Sunlight?" Oswald had asked, freeing himself from Siegmeyer's grasp and walking away from Andre, who held Griggs by his arm, where a hidden blade emerged from under his sleeve. "I must say I am quite curious myself. To be honest, I intended to ask you as soon as I was done with your healing. What a shame this sorcerer decided to make us waste time with his little stunt. Oh, but what can you expect from him? He knows the better, the poor fool."
Griggs had glared at Oswald from Andre's arms.
"But, surprisingly, he did say something pertinent."
Oswald had continued. Then, he had looked at Solaire. Oscar had tightened his hold on his friend, and one of his hands was ready to jolt to the hilt of his sword at any second.
"That curse of yours was quite rare, as was yours, Siegmeyer… but Solaire's was even more peculiar. It was not the curse of a basilisk, nor was it caused by the usual sickness of Blighttown, as I'd believed. This sort of curse only comes from the parasites of the infected habitants of that sick place, who, as a curious note, are peaceful and harmless as long as you don't provoke their anger. Well, what did you ever do to make them attack you, if I may ask?"
A horrible silence, in which Andre had released Griggs and Siegmeyer had let out a gasp, had followed.
The only one who had been unaffected by Oswald's question was Griggs. More than concerned, he had been interested in the matter with the same academic fascination of a doctor that observed how maggots devoured the infected wound of his patient.
Without Griggs, Solaire may have not been saved, but at that moment, he had lacked any of his previous inclination of preserving Solaire's life. It was then Oscar had known that, if the worst came to pass, Griggs would only watch.
"Well, Solaire?" Oswald had said, taking a step closer to Solaire. "Is there something you want to confess?"
Solaire had been about to speak when Oscar tightly held him closer to him.
"You are free of sin!" Oscar had exclaimed with all the power of his lungs. "You did nothing wrong, Solaire. You don't owe anyone an explanation, even less to his pardoner!"
"How rude of you." Oswald had said, amused.
"It wasn't you." Oscar had said, deaf and uncaring of anyone else that wasn't his friend. He pulled Solaire slightly away from him so that they could look at each other in the eye. Solaire had looked at him with a distraught grimace, and Oscar doubted his semblance had been any different. "It wasn't you."
"What are you talking about, Oscar?" Oswald had intervened with none of his usual mocking undertone, making his voice sound almost unrecognizable. "You may be the Chosen Undead and the ringer of the bells, but do not think even for a second that you are free of the consequences of serious sins. And if your beloved friend truly did what I think he did, and you are trying hide his faults from me, then I'll held you as equally accountable as him."
"Enough of this!" It had been Andre who had put himself between Oswald, Oscar and Solaire.
His body had hidden Oswald from his sight, but Oscar had still been able to see the pardoner's feet and how he backed away clumsily from the blacksmith.
"I'll allow no more venom and violence in my shop!" Andre had roared, his thunderous voice making the stone walls tremble.
"Your shop?" Oswald had asked, any fear he had felt for Andre gone from his voice. "That's strange, I had believed this was a church with no owner."
"Insult and mock me all you want, pardoner. I do not care about anything you say, but I will not tolerate any more threats or displays of savagery here, not between you and that sorcerer, or between you and my friends!"
"I've done nothing wrong, Andre of Astora. Do I need to remind you that it was the sorcerer who attacked me? Or that, as a pardoner of Carim and servant of Velka, I am in my absolute right to demand an explanation from— "
"You hold as much guilt as Griggs for what happened! You acted like prejudiced and immature fools, the both of you… you were more interested in throwing pathetic insults at each other, and proving yourself superior to the other, than you were in saving Solaire's life. That's why his healing took so long. You prolonged his pain only to spite each other!"
Much to Oscar's shock, Griggs had not remained indifferent to Andre's words. He had looked away in what had seemed like genuine embarrassment. Oscar hadn't been able to see Oswald's reaction, but the pardoner had remained quiet for a moment.
"Regardless, I stand firm in my second claim." Oswald had finally said.
"But you are not demanding an explanation or a confession from Solaire, you are intimidating him. You are already treating him like a guilty man before he's had the chance to explain himself. I may be a stupid, ignorant and uncultured oaf, but even a lowly blacksmith like me knows that's not the way a pardoner should act."
"You are none of those things, Andre. You are merely Astoran. Yet, as sensitive as people from your homeland can be, I cannot treat Solaire in a kinder manner, not when I have reasons to believe a great sin has been committed by his hands."
"I do not ask a privileged treatment from you." Andre had stated firmly, but more calmly than before. "I merely want you to act like a human being, pardoner Oswald. Both these men have gone through trials none of us can even dream of. Solaire was cursed by both a basilisk and some hellish parasite; Oscar perished at the hands of a brutal killer and almost lost the person he cares about he most; they have wounds that have not healed yet; their friend, a pyromancer, is missing."
"He is right, pardoner." Siegmeyer had intervened. Though not as weakened as Solaire, he hadn't recovered completely from the curse and his healing. Oswald and Andre had stared at him at the same time. "What Oscar and Solaire need right now is a moment to recover, a moment to heal and understand all that's happened. In the name of my honor as a knight, I beg of you to show them kindness."
"How touching." Oswald had said. "I just hope all of this mercy and understanding is justified. If not, then you are indeed an awful and cruel man, Solaire of Astora."
"Don't listen to him." Oscar had said, reinforcing his hold on Solaire.
It had been at that moment that Solaire had first truly rejected Oscar's support. It had also been the moment when the unbreakable silence he was still immersed in had manifested.
The only good thing that had come out from that conversation had been Oswald's agreement to give Solaire more time to reconsider, but this act of mercy had not been kind, and Oswald had left very clear that his patience was limited, and that there would be consequences for keeping the truth from him.
Oscar had then considered to speak up and place the blame on Lautrec, where it rightfully belonged, but had decided against it.
To mention the knight of Carim to Oswald, without any proof to back his claims or any indication of where Lautrec could be, would only make the pardoner more suspicious of him and Solaire.
Griggs' potential support would also bear little weight after his small but dangerous clash with Oswald.
Lautrec.
Oscar had remembered him.
A knight of Carim, killing a maiden, a fire keeper.
Those were the knights who lived for their ladies.
Those were the men that treasured their women above everything else.
Those were the warriors that swore to protect all maidens burdened with higher purpose, especially fire keepers, even if they were not Carim-born.
Oscar knew it well, even when his knowledge of Carim and its costumes was limited at best. The devotion the men of that kingdom displayed for their women was as unwavering as it was unmatched.
Lautrec, how could you?
Even to Oscar, the mere idea was shocking. As vile as Lautrec had been in their time together, he would have never thought Lautrec capable of such heinous crime.
He believed Solaire and in his innocence, but as much as it hurt him to think about it, Oscar himself still didn't know what exactly had happened in Blighttown, or what were the actions that so heavily troubled Solaire's heart.
"Very well." Oswald had said, retreating at last. "Have it your way, Oscar and Solaire. Take the time you need to come to terms with this, and perhaps also consider washing yourselves. Now that you are both feeling better and have a water source in the forest nearby, there's no excuse for you to not take the bath you both so much need."
Oswald had finished his sentence by stating what would happen if Solaire didn't speak up in the time he had given him, and how he would not heal his scars until he did so.
Then, Oswald had retreated to a corner.
He remained there, silent and still.
Oscar snapped out of his memory and was brought back to reality when Oswald's eyes met with his.
Oswald said nothing. Instead, he dedicated to Oscar a kind smile.
"Well, I may not have soap." Siegmeyer said, kneeling next to Oscar. Whether his intervention was a coincidence, or he had felt the growing restlessness between Oscar and the pardoner, was something Oscar never discovered. "But I do have a suggestion. If you pour Estus into water, not only does it warms it up instantly, it also heals your wounds and cleans your body as was well as the finest bar of soap would! Trust me, I've tried it before. What do you say, Solaire?"
Solaire looked at Siegmeyer, but he gave not a single glance to Oscar. The realization that Solaire was openly ignoring him hurt Oscar deeply, but he didn't resent Solaire for it.
He knew how righteous Solaire was, and he didn't doubt that his insistence in Solaire keeping his actions secret from Oswald had angered his friend.
Oscar retrieved his hand from Solaire's shoulder.
Perhaps, he thought, it would be best for Solaire if he just stayed away from him for a while.
He was about to stand up when Solaire's voice stopped him.
"Yes, I would like that. But…." Solaire said, looking at Oscar. "Oscar, if it is alright with you, could you help me? I just—."
He averted his gaze, embarrassed, although Oscar also saw guilt in his eyes.
"Of course." Oscar replied reassuringly.
"Thank you." Solaire said, relieved and grateful.
"Splendid! Then, let us go downstairs. I'll go fetch some water from Darkroot Garden while you help Solaire get ready." Siegmeyer added with enthusiasm. Before Oscar knew it, Siegmeyer was already making his way downstairs. "Andre, do you have anything we can use as a tub? Oh, lookie here! This recipient should do. But what's this, it's filled with weapons! I'll just put them all here, I'm sure you don't mind."
"Wait, don't touch those! Those are my work in progress! Handle them gently, sir onion!" Andre ran downstairs as soon as the echo of clanking metal began to ring louder.
Insults and a small but fervent argument followed.
Oscar wanted to smile, but Oswald's lingering presence prevented him and Solaire to feel any real amusement.
"Let's get going." Oscar told Solaire.
Solaire nodded and put his arm over Oscar's shoulders.
Slowly and very carefully, Oscar lifted himself and Solaire up. The wound on his belly made him flinch, but he quickly got over the sharp and painful sting and began walking toward the stairs together with Solaire.
"Here." Griggs said, standing up from his spot in front of the bonfire. He put himself under Solaire's other arm before his help could be refused. "Don't worry, I shall not linger for long if you don't want me to, but please, let me help get you get downstairs… it truly is the least I can do for how I've behaved. Andre was right; I'm sorry, Solaire."
Oscar didn't like Griggs sudden intrusion, but he knew that the sorcerer was being honest. Solaire must have known it too, for he accepted his help with a humble 'thank you'.
As the three of them went downstairs, Oscar expected to hear one last threat or warning from Oswald. His chest twisted with awful expectation, as if he was a weaponless squire in the middle of battle.
"I'll still be here once you're done."
It was all Oswald said, but it was enough to remind Oscar that the danger was far from over.
Andre and Siegmeyer left the water-filled tub right at the center of the room. Before going upstairs, Andre gave Oscar more pieces of clean cloth obtained for an old linen shirt, probably a piece of his merchandise he had never gotten to sell. He also gave him a wooden bowl and a big jar filled with Estus-infused water.
"It'll be easier to wash his hair with this." Andre said. Then, after giving a fatherly pat on the head to Solaire, he went upstairs.
Siegmeyer lingered for a while longer, infusing the water with Estus while Oscar helped Solaire remove his shirt.
It was an easy process, thanks to how loose and big his clothes were.
Who had dressed him and Oscar in such attires?
It most likely had been Andre. Perhaps those clothes had once belonged to him, before he had decided to forsake wearing shirts for good.
Andre.
Solaire would need to thank the blacksmith for all he had done for him.
He had wanted to do so since he had regained consciousness, but he knew that any proof of gratitude he gave him in his current state would be poor and lacking, if the faint words he had said to Griggs were anything to go by.
Griggs had departed too, claiming he would return quickly to Firelink Shrine before he ventured into the fortress, right at the other side of the new path that had been opened with the second toll of the bells.
The sole memory the bell tolling above him made Solaire feel nauseous, and he was most relieved once the sorcerer was gone.
"There! It's ready. The water's not exactly hot, but it's pleasantly warm." Siegmeyer announced, putting away his Estus flask. "This will make you feel much better, Solaire. In the meanwhile, I'll prepare some Estus soup for you, and for Oscar too. One must never underestimate the healing properties of a bath and a good meal, not even us Undead. Who knows, maybe I can even brew us some Siegbräu! Yes, that's right, a drink! And I assure you that not even ale or cider can compare to it!"
"Leave it to a Catarinian to invent so many recipes out of Estus." Oscar replied with a chuckle. "Thank you, Siegmeyer."
"Don't mention it. By the way, do you need my help, Solaire? Don't worry, I know we people from Catarina have the reputation of having no shame or manners, but if you and Oscar need more help with your bath, I'm here. I'll be respectful, friend, and I'll keep any jokes and quips that come to my head solely to myself… at least until you feel better and we can talk about them like the mature knights and men we are."
"No, it's alright,' Solaire said, wishing he was in the mood to enjoy such a carefree moment.
"Understood." Siegmeyer replied. "Then, off I go. I'll be upstairs if you need me, together with Andre and the bundle of joy known as Oswald the pardoner. Let us know if you need anything. Oh, and don't forget, if the water gets too dirty, just pour more Estus into it. It'll purify it quite a bit."
Then, he left.
Without saying anything, Oscar helped Solaire to dispose from the rest of his clothing and then helped him into the tub.
Solaire couldn't suppress a deep sigh as the refreshing and soothing touch of the infused water covered his body up to his chest.
I do not deserve this.
The thought came close to ruining his moment of comfort. It was only thanks to Oscar that Solaire could remain calm.
"Is it good?" Oscar asked him, holding his flask above the water. "Do you want me to pour some more Estus?"
The water was fine, but it could be warmer.
"No." Solaire answered. "Don't worry, Oscar, I'm feeling better already. I think I can wash most of my body on my own."
"Very well." Oscar said. He didn't seem very convinced, but he didn't insist on the matter, and Solaire was thankful to him for it. "Here."
Oscar handed Solaire a piece of cloth soaked with Estus. Solaire had been about to tell his friend not to go when Oscar, as if sensing his distress, soaked another piece of cloth and kept it for himself.
"While you are at it, I can help you wash your back and your hair. What do you say?"
Solaire looked away again, not being able to bear the selfless and kind way Oscar talked to him.
"Yes."
I did nothing to earn any of this. I'm not worthy of such loyal companions. Oscar, I'm not worthy of being your brother.
He felt like a crook, like some lowly swindler who had tricked Oscar into caring about him so much.
It had never been his intention to deceive him, but he had.
Just like he had deceived Andre, Siegmeyer and Laurentius.
He had made them believe he was a good person.
They all had cared about him, and they had suffered because of it.
Laurentius.
Without knowing what else he could do to keep the memory of Laurentius at bay, and desperate to keep his distress to himself, Solaire began rubbing the cloth against his shoulders and arms.
"Rest your head here for a moment." Oscar told him, slightly pulling Solaire's neck downwards until it touched her tub's rim. "Now, imagine I'm a skilled barber instead of a clumsy knight and try to relax. Your hair will look like golden silk once I'm done with it, like that of a princess, you'll see."
Solaire tried to laugh, but it was as if he had forgotten how to.
With that, Oscar began to wash his hair. It took him a long while to rid it of all the dry blood, mud and sweat matted to it.
The rest of his body fared no better, and it didn't take long for the water to get scummy and murky.
Solaire felt sick and disgusted of his appearance. He could only imagine how dreadful he had looked back in Blighttown.
Like a savage, like a mindless brute.
Solaire stared at his hands.
Like a monster.
The memory of the woman's blood sprouting from her shoulder and streaming down his sword, all the way down to his hands, made Solaire's heart jump in fear. He straightened his back violently and gasped for air as if he was drowning.
Oscar immediately appeared by his side.
"Solaire, what's wrong?"
Solaire couldn't answer. His tongue remained frozen by the sight of his past actions, of the sin he had committed.
"I lost your tunic." Solaire said lamely, almost by impulse.
"What?" Oscar put a hand on his back.
Solaire looked at Oscar again.
"Your tunic. I promised I would mend it; instead, I lost it." Solaire continued. "Your sword, your shield, your helmet… I lost them all, Oscar."
Oscar laughed. It wasn't mocking or disregarding. It was the sound a person made when his worst fears were betrayed.
"Don't worry about any of that, Solaire. It doesn't matter; besides, Siegmeyer found most of our equipment in Blighttown and brought it back with him. Our tunics are beyond repair, as are our helmets and swords, but our shields and armors can be salvaged. Andre says he can craft perfect replicas of the damaged pieces from scratch... but even if he couldn't, it would be fine, my friend. My sword, my tunic, my shield all of those are things I can replace. They're not what really matters to me."
"I rang the bell, and with that, I shattered the prophecy, I ruined your purpose, your dream."
Solaire wished the earth would swallow him whole. He wished Oscar wasn't there. He wished they had never met; that way, maybe Oscar wouldn't have gone through all the unnecessary grief he had put him through.
"That's' what I do, Oscar. I ruin things, not only to myself, but to others. I'm a disease, a curse, an idiot that must be shooed away before he destroys everything around him."
No, no. Don't you dare to cry.
Solaire clenched his jaw and his face behind his hands.
After what you did, do you think you have the right to cry? Do you dare to consider yourself the victim? As if you were the one who suffered the most?
"No." Oscar said, surrounding Solaire's shoulders with an arm. "No, Solaire. I don't know what could ever make you think of yourself that way, but that's not true. You are not a disease or—Lords, don't call yourself that again! You are a knight that worries about people; a man that always helps others, even those who don't deserve it or appreciate it. Those are the idiots, not you. You are a good person, Solaire. You've always been, you still are."
"Please don't lie to me, Oscar."
Solaire pleaded, moving away from Oscar as much as he could.
"Please don't say those things about me. They are not true. I misled you, I tricked you into believing I am a good man. I made you think of me as your brother… but how can I be your brother? How can a murderer like me even be by your side? No, Oscar. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve Siegmeyer, or Andre, just like I didn't deserve Laurentius or my parents. That's why fate took them away from me, because they were more than I deserved. Because I, in my stupidity, always ruined everything for them. Gods, that's the same reason you died. You trusted me, you believed in me. And I got you killed. You died because of me."
"I didn't!" Oscar exclaimed, not loud enough for his voice to reach upstairs, but with enough force for Solaire to listen to him clearly. "I died because of that knight of thorns and that man-eating woman's treachery. There is no one else to blame, Solaire, do you hear me? No one, especially not you."
"Oscar—"
"No, now you'll listen to me." Oscar stated. More than angry, Solaire could tell he was desperate. He tried to grab one of Solaire's hands, but when Solaire refused, he rested his arm on the tub's rim. "And I want you to listen well and keep it branded forever on your mind. You have been only a blessing to me. You saved me, you've been by my side since we both arrived to this curse land, you became my comrade, my friend. That's not something that can be changed so easily, Solaire. Regardless of what you've done, to me you will always be my best friend. My brother."
"Stop it, Oscar." Solaire hissed, furious at himself for making Oscar waste such pure sentiments on him. "I hate it when you do this. I hate it when you are so condescending with me."
"I have never been condescending with you, Solaire. Never." Oscar said, his temper no less incensed than Solaire's. "Why the hell is it so hard for you to believe anything I tell you? You always think I'm mocking you, or that I'm pandering to your ego, as if you were a child that needs constant approval, or as if I was some self-righteous bastard pretending to be a saint… that's bullshit, and you know it, Solaire. If everything I say feels like a lie to you, then maybe I should just save us both the trouble and never talk to you again."
"That'd be the wisest choice you've made since we met."
"And then what? We part ways? Do I curse your name? If I say you are right and call you a disease, a curse, will that make you feel better, Solaire? Is that what you want me to do?" Oscar's frown and glare took Solaire aback. It was the first time he saw his friend so enraged. "Do you want me to call you a liar? Do you want me to say I wish we had never met?"
"I've wished that in the past." Solaire said, mirroring Oscar's defiance with more intensity and bitterness. "I wish we had never met, Oscar."
Oscar was baffled, his face stuck in a grimace of shock and disbelief.
"What have you gained from having met me?" Solaire didn't realize he was crying until he felt the tickle of his tears on his chin. "What has my friendship offered you? My friendship got you into trouble. My friendship hurt you. My friendship made you feel you judged. My friendship killed you. My friendship destroyed your dream. And now, after what I did in Blighttown, my friendship will only be a disgrace to you."
Solaire wiped his tears in silence. Oscar said nothing, and patiently waited for Solaire to calm down.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Solaire." Oscar said. He looked tired, as if he had just returned from a long expedition across an empty wasteland. "But I don't."
Solaire and Oscar stared at each other, like strangers that suddenly remember they had met before.
"I could never regret meeting you. Our friendship did not start well, and our circumstances and our own tempers have not exactly made it be any easier for either of us. But to me, it is worth all the hard times we've gone through, Solaire. To me, it is worth more than some prophecy or deluded dream."
"It's not fair." Solaire said. Despite the storm roaring inside him, he was calm, as if he had burnout his emotions. "You deserve better than this, Oscar… than me."
"Your friendship saved me." Oscar answered. "It healed me when I was weak, it protected me from the scorn of others, it helped me find my way back to life. Solaire, don't you see? If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here now. That's why listening to you talking about yourself like this, or hearing you say you are a burden to me, or that you don't deserve the kindness others have shown to you… Solaire, how can you be so blind of your own worth? Andre, Siegmeyer, Griggs, Laurentius, even pardoner Oswald, do you really think they helped you just because you tricked them? No, Solaire. They did so because they know the kind of man you are. They saw you for who you truly are. They see it, as do I. Why can't you?"
Oscar reached for Solaire's hand again. This time, Solaire did not pull away. A soft gasp escaped him when he felt Oscar's fingers close around his palm.
"Why?"
"Because there's no forgiveness for what I've done. Because the only victim in all this is that innocent maiden I hurt and tried to kill."
Solaire feared Oscar would walk away from him forever. Despite being the reaction he had strived for since he had been cured from his curse, now that it could happen for real, Solaire feared he had made a mistake from which he couldn't go back.
Just like that maiden won't ever come back from her death. A death I couldn't prevent. A death that I almost caused myself.
"What did I do?" Solaire looked at his hands. The Estus-infused water had cleansed them from dirt and filth, but it would never take away the phantom warmth of the maiden's blood he had spilled. "What did I do?"
"Solaire." Oscar pulled Solaire closer to him with his free arm. "Tell me about it, my friend. It's alright, I'm not going anywhere."
That simple act of acceptance made Solaire feel as if an infected wound on his chest had finally been allowed to bleed. He didn't realize how much pressure he had been storing in his soul until he began to talk of what he had done in Blighttown.
It was as if a giant suddenly had removed its foot from his body, allowing him to breathe again and to think, even if it was for just one second, that he was truly alive.
"Ouch, dammit! The cursed pot burned my fingers."
"Yes, that's what usually happens when you touch hot metal with your hands uncovered."
"Oh, this one will definitely leave a blister."
Siegmeyer shook his hand fervently.
The most logical idea of pouring Estus on his burn never came to his mind.
Unlike Oswald, Andre was less subtle in his mocking of the knight, and he openly called him 'clumsy sir onion'.
While he did find the insult amusing, Oswald refrained from laughing out loud. Even if he was not in the best of terms with Siegmeyer after what had happened between himself, Solaire and Oscar, Oswald had no intent to mock the proud knight.
"Please, allow me to give you a hand with that." He said. Andre stopped laughing the moment he spoke, and continued to glare at him as Oswald finally left his corner and walked toward the bonfire.
He knelt next to Siegmeyer, who was sorting out his ingredients and measuring them carefully before throwing them into the pot full of boiling Estus.
Though not as antagonistic as the blacksmith, it was obvious Siegmeyer felt uneasy by Oswald's presence.
Still, maybe in appreciation of their previous meeting, when Siegmeyer had shared with him many recipes and anecdotes, the knight of Catarina allowed Oswald to hold his hand and pour Estus on his wound.
"There." With a smile, Oswald looked at Siegmeyer. "Better?"
Siegmeyer hesitated. After a moment, he reciprocated the smile. "Yes, better. Thank you, pardoner."
"There's no need to be so formal, Siegmeyer. You know well you can call me Oswald." Then, Oswald looked at Andre. "As can you, dutiful blacksmith. I'm aware of your resentment towards me for how I´ve treated Solaire. I don't blame you, but neither do I regret anything I did or said. This is my duty, after all. I hold no ill will against any of you."
It was not often Oswald made excuses for himself. Time had taught him that there was little to be gained from explanations, no matter how justified or pertinent. In the end, people always chose to believe what they wanted, and they were in their right to do so.
The only reason he was expressing his feelings to Andre and Siegmeyer was because he regretted his petty interactions with the Vinheimer sorcerer.
Andre had been right, both of them had acted like prejudiced children.
The least Oswald could do to repent for his shameful actions was trying to keep the peace among everyone involved in the matter.
Of course, once Solaire was ready to confess, Oswald would apologize to him as well.
"I understand, Oswald." Siegmeyer said. He filled the pot with ingredients before putting it into the bonfire's flame with the help of his greatsword. "I'm not judging your duty or your reasons. I think I am talking for Andre as well when I say that what truly upset us was the little mercy you showed toward Solaire."
"I'm afraid I couldn't have reacted any other way, my good knight." Oswald replied, making himself comfortable in front of the bonfire. "The sin Solaire potentially committed is a dreadful offense not to myself, but to all that is sacred in this world. If he truly did it, then he deserves no sympathy at all."
"And what do you think he did?" Siegmeyer asked.
It was not the kind of question Oswald had expected from him, and it took him off guard.
"I guess you'll hear it from his own lips soon enough."
"I know what your suspicions are, Oswald." Andre said from behind him. Oswald shuddered when he felt the towering shadow of the blacksmith upon him, and he only relaxed once Andre sat down at the other side of the bonfire.
"Oh?" Oswald inquired. "Well, aren't you as sharp as your weapons."
"I do not think him capable of such sin." Andre continued. "Do you?"
Oswald didn't answer. As a pardoner, his personal opinion had no relevance at all. He couldn't allow it to cloud his judgment.
But, if he dared to consider Andre's question for a moment, then his answer was an absolute no.
Solaire, the man that had confessed sins so trivial to him that Oswald had felt genuinely touched by the other man's purity. It was not a common sight in the world, and deep down, Oswald felt sorry for the Warrior of Sunlight.
I wonder how much suffering his childish naivety has caused him.
A lot, most likely.
And that is why an excess of kindness should be considered a sin. Or at the very least, a flaw.
"Like I've said, we'll soon find out the answer to that question." Oswald said politely.
The three men remained quiet, with only the sizzling of the fire and burbling sounds of the cooking pot breaking the silence among them. Oscar and Solaire's voices did reach their floor, but only as distorted and unintelligible whispers.
Oscar, I do not intend to take your friend away from you. When I accepted to help you, it was never my intention to cause more grief to either of you. If the worst happens, I only hope you don't go Hollow and that you can forgive me, someday.
"Oswald?"
Siegmeyer's shy question brought Oswald back to reality.
"Yes, brave knight? How can I aid you? Do you want us to share recipes again? I must say I don't have many of them left to share with you, but I do know of a soup you can prepare with the scum of ponds that tastes delicious."
"No. What I want is for you listen to the confession of my sins. I have to… otherwise, I fear I may go Hollow."
"Siegmeyer?" Andre intervened, confused and concerned.
Siegmeyer dedicated a sad smile to the blacksmith. "You already know what this is all about, don't you?"
Andre didn't answer, but his silence conveyed more than what words could have.
Before Oswald could ask more about the matter, or offer Siegmeyer to go with him to a more private place, the knight of Catarina, without taking his eyes off his half-cooked pot of soup, spoke out loud.
"I lied. Laurentius didn't continue his journey on his own, and neither is he coming back. He is dead, and he died by my blade."