Hungry…
Hungry…
Hungry, hungry, hungry, so very, very hungry…
How long had it been since he'd eaten? The taste still lingered in his tongue, his stomach still craved it, his nostrils still twitched at the memory…
Food, how he wanted food…
He had given up everything, and now he couldn't even find food? How could this be...
Villages had been empty, too, nothing to offer.
So hungry… so very, very hungry.
Meat. I need meat… Meat would be good, meat would be great—
…!
Wait… Wait… What's that? This smell… Something's burning. Something's burning a lot.
And that smell… Meat… Meat? Meat! Sweet, delicious meat! Right there, for the picking!
Oooohhhh, I can't wait, how long has it been! I want to taste meat again! So succulent, so delicious! I still remember, the taste…
That woman had so much tasty flesh!
And her kids, oh… So supple! Those three screamed real good!
Good memories, right after he won everything he did now, the village had been so much food!
How long has it been, it doesn't even have to be a feast! Just tear up some meat, feel the blood and the squirming!
I SACRIFICED FOR THIS! WHERE IS THE MEAT?!
AH, THERE! JUST STANDING THERE! HEH, BURNING HIS SWORD FOR WARMTH!
COME HERE! MEAT! MEATMEATMEATMEATMEATMEATMEAT!
ME-!
…
-O-
He had been an enemy of those who ruled the tides of fate for as long as he had donned this armor. Their spawns, born out of desire and spite to keep living, creatures made by the selfishness and sacrifice of their last dregs of compassion and humanity, twisted into visages meant to instill fear and despair upon those beneath them.
In the end, those who had forgotten their pain and hardened their hearts were reminded of their own mortality by his blade, or by those few who had the strength to stand on their own against the monsters that threatened them.
And yet, in his hundreds of years of fighting… At this moment, the one known as Skull Knight beheld something unlike anything he had witnessed before. But it was not the scores of dead Apostles upon the ground, their mangled bodies swimming in pools of blood only they seemed capable of creating. It was not the scorched earth, with patches of molten stone and still burning flames consuming all they could to perpetuate their existence. And it was not this alien sense of serenity and warm brought to a battlefield so grizzly.
It was the figure sitting upon the middle of the whirlwind of death, watching the burning flame of their own weapon, with one leg drawn against their own body and their head bowed down. Within that figure burned something… Fantastical. A power that until now, he had only witnessed as a wave of darkness within the boundaries at the edge of the world. But that was a dying light, cast upon five angels of condemnation.
This… Was a sun. Bright, incandescent, a beacon against darkness.
A symbol of hope.
The Skull Knight rode onto the clearing calmly, sword still at his hip and shield held passively as he approached the figure and took in their now more visible features.
They were tall, very much so, close to the height of the taller Apostles in their human forms, yet with a lean build, far more human in its proportions. Greaves, gauntlets and vambraces glistened lightly with the fire, with chainmail beneath them and covering the rest of the body. A leather belt and pouches hung from their waist, and a cloth cape covered their chest, shoulders and neck, with a faint glimmer of metal revealing the pauldrons and breastplate beneath. And lastly, a plate closed helmet, shrouded by a thick cloth hood and with a grill visor hiding their face.
Their sword, resting on the ground and wreathed in flames, had a curious spiral shape, and seemed to glow from an inner fire more-so than being set ablaze itself. Upon the figure's back rested an ornate black-and-gold bow alongside a golden sword-like spear, and a rotten-looking curved sword upon the right side of their hip, the likes of which he had not seen before.
The figure raised their head to face the rider but made no further moves as the skeletal rider closed the distance and stopped short of the improvised bonfire, resting his glowing yellow eyes onto the crackling flames.
"There are not many who hold the claim of wielding power such as this" finally spoke the Skull Knight. "Nor there are many who stand against the spawns of the dark and won". The figure watched him for a moment longer, before returning its gaze to the burning blade.
"… It is not by self-desire that I raise my blade… Or perhaps, not of desire of what I represent, but instead of what has made me unto what I am"
"And what will be this, that seems to beckon your power?"
"The will of a thousand kings, to whose crowns I have no right, but to whose bodies and souls I have long taken". Both figures remained still, their gaze transfixed on each object of their attention, with the only sounds being the crackling of embers and the slight breeze of the wind, until finally the cloaked knight spoke once more. "Yet I know my duty, and need not leave here to fulfill it".
"A duty, you say"
"The flame is alight once more. It burns not for a world, not for an age of gods and those that followed them… But for me. In me. And for long as I remain, it will continue to burn, as my purpose commands it to"
"So you would surrender your existence to such a fire, and fade away as the world weaves its paths around you?" asked the rider, his voice still solemn even as memories raced past in his mind. "This flame, that burns so brilliantly, yet seems to give naught but a beacon for those that covet it?"
The figure remained silent once more, head bowed down in thought. And after what seemed as an eternity, they finally rose from the ground, their full height giving them full view to gaze at the same level as the knight on horseback. "Then what purpose would you give me, that this fire cannot? To what end would I raise my blade, if not to allow this flame of beginning to burn ever more?". They reached a hand up, and in their palm a small ember formed, yet that small kindle seemed to burn as bright as the sun itself amidst the darkness that surrounded them. "This land… Here, fire is not a treasure. It is not a divine object, meant to be treasured and to be kept safe. Here, fire is as common as man, and is deemed a common thing… A mundane reality of life… What can a land like this receive from a fire they never possessed?".
At those words, the Skull Knight reached into his armor, and from within it withdrew a small stone with facial features spread all throughout. For many, it was a trinket, macabre as it looked. But to him, it was a damned object, an offering only the most agonized of hearts would find themselves holding.
And as he knew it would be, to the unknown figure it was just as damnable an object.
"There are those, beyond the walls that mark this realm, who twist the currents of causality and bring upon the suffering of mankind, preying upon the hearts of those that dive into despair to bring forth their apostles. They are ones that inhabit pure darkness, and where no light will ever reach… But you, mayhap, can bring not light, but flame to their realm". The Skull Knight raised the cursed stone above his head, and lowered it onto his open jaw, before gazing once more at the figure. "The fire within you is as the sun, merciless and all-consuming… But it has no will. Your purpose is granted not by this flame, but by the thousands before you who held that wish. The wish to see this flame burn evermore. What you wish… That, is something you seem not to have ever given thought to".
The figure remained silent, simply lowering their head to stare at the blood-covered ground, when suddenly the sound of rustling leaves began growing louder and louder as something approached. A beast?
No… An Apostle.
The Skull Knight turned towards the source of the rustling foliage, just as a large dog-like demon burst through the timber and leaves, its malformed legs propelling it and its massive, tooth-laden maw forward as it eyed the towering figure hungrily.
"MEAT!" it cried out, its longue spiny tongue lolling out of its mouth as drool splashed from inside it. "MEATMEATMEATMEATMEATMEATMEAT!". The Apostle leapt into the air, opening its maw wider than any animal could ever hope for, and aimed it straight at the two knights. "ME-!"
A flash of light. It was all the normal eye could have hoped to perceive.
Yet the Skull Knight watched as, faster than any human had the hope of being, a brilliant sword of blue light formed in the figure's hand, the cloaked warrior quickly slashing upwards at the Apostle and releasing a blade of light that shot through the abomination's body, slicing it clean down the middle. With a spurt of blood, both halves were sent flying to the sides, the apostle's innards charred into ash as they toppled onto the pooled blood beneath on the ground, just another body in the carnage.
"… What purpose would you offer to me, then?"
"There is a man that walks this land. One branded by those above causality, deemed their sacrifice upon his death, and to be hunted by beasts of darkness as he crosses the interstice between the world of body and that of soul" said the Skull Knight as he mounted back upon his horse. "He is a struggler, one who will not fall prey easily to those that dwell upon the limit of both worlds. Yet… Even he, I believe, would find the respite of your flame welcome. Find him, and perhaps… Your path will show itself". And with those parting words, the Skull Knight rode away from the bonfire, the only thing left behind of his presence being the fading waves upon the blood on the ground.
And as the figure watched the knight ride away, they stared onto the burning sword once more, seeing the embers floating away from it, and the fire that dwelled both around it… And within it. The last time they had taken up that blade, had been for their final duel… A duel against a warrior hellbent on their purpose, and who held their own wishes for the flame that gave birth to a world, and sustained it for eons until then.
Until the Ashen One came.
Yet perhaps… This was for the best.
And as the figure pulled the sword from the bonfire, and sheathed their Firelink Blade upon their hip to join the Frayed Blade, the Dragonslayer Swordspear and the Dragonrider Bow already on their body, they felt the First Flame roar as if in agreement, its heat making their skin glow faintly with the fire within and cinders to fall upon the ground.
Born of a thousand kings… Heir to none of their crowns, but holder of all their strength and memories.
Once called the Soul of Cinder. Now…
Now, Lord of Flame.
-O-
Sitting inside a cart, trying to rest before the horrors of the night came to take away his sleep and give instead nightmares, the Black Swordsman caught a glimpse of something in the skies above of his dream realm.
A scorching, blazing sun.
~O~
So I cooked this up.
No excuse for why, the idea looked fucking awesome. Just a quick break on Discarded Blade before I write the Nightfall chapter.
Plus, this will probably be written faster than Miura publishes chapters.
Still love the guy and Berserk, though.
Bear in mind, I know next to nothing about Dark Souls, and am constantly researching as I write to make sure I don't fuck up the lore/mechanics. Hope I don't screw it up too badly.
Until next time, folks!