The Eternal Recurrence mentioned in this chapter is a philosophical concept I have been interested in for a long time. It is a intriguing idea, so I recommend you checking it out if you are curious about it :D It is also linked to the latin phrase Amor Fati, which... yeah, pretty much gave this fic its title hahaha.
I think they fit Dark Souls a lot, with the whole "endless cycle" theme it has going on. And they also are good angst material for the Astoran bros and every other poor character in this sunny fic xD
Anyway, thanks for reading and to Dreamer1920, guest and deityoftheuniverse for awesome comments! I hope you guys like the chapter!
"You didn't ask about it, master."
Logan took his eyes off the bonfire's sword and turned his attention to Griggs. His student was sitting next to him, his arms spread towards the soothing fire.
"About what exactly, lad?"
"The coiled sword in Oscar's possession." Griggs shifted his legs into a more comfortable position, " I would have thought you'd find it interesting, but you never brought it up. This isn't like you at all."
Logan cleared his throat and scratched his beard. "Oh, I did notice. I guess I was too exhausted to ask about it, that's all."
"I see."
"Besides,I had other things in mind. For example, I couldn't stop wondering why you would surrender such a rare ring to the Astorans." Logan made a small pause and let out a big yawn. "You really must have become fond of them. Then again, you've always been a kind soul, Griggs."
"I am not."
It was the answer Logan had expected.
After a moment of silence, he continued.
"Well, did you?"
"I'll need you to be more specific, master."
"Did you ask him about the coiled sword?"
"No. I considered it, but Oscar is very secretive and distrustful. We were on good terms, but he doesn't trust me completely. Whatever explanation he could have given me wouldn't have been reliable at all."
Logan nodded, but he didn't hide his disapproval.
"Still, you wouldn't have lost anything by asking him. At best, you would have received a truthful explanation; at worst, he would have lied to you. Unless that getting him and his friend upset was exactly what you were trying to prevent. You didn't wish to burden them with difficult questions. Tell me Griggs, was this the case?"
Griggs didn't answer. His silence was everything Logan needed to know he was right.
Though slightly disappointed by his student's behaviour, Logan chuckled.
"I believe I told you that sentimentality isn't a proper trait of a scholar. Yet, you disregarded that teaching, despite how much I insisted on it." Logan said, "You've grown, Griggs. Sure, you are still a bit rough around the edges, but I'm proud to see you've become a lad capable of shaping his own thoughts. To see you blindly follow my teachings like a lamb would have been deeply disappointing."
"Master, I've told you before." Griggs insisted. His voice was starting to become angry rather than upset. "I am not that sort of person."
"You say that, but actions speak louder than words." Logan raised his head, just enough for one of his eyes to be exposed. " And your actions tell me that you are not the same lad I met in Vinheim all those years ago. You've changed."
"It is only natural, isn't it?" Griggs' expression was impossible to read, even for Logan. "My life continued even after your departure from the Dragon School. Perhaps you wouldn't be so surprised about the man I've become if you had been there to witness my growth."
The reproach took Logan aback.
"An Undead man like me cannot linger among the living for long." Logan said, recovering from his shock. "I was never popular among my peers in the Dragon School, not when I was alive, and especially not after I turned Undead so many years ago. The only reason they put up with my sporadic visits is because this gives them a chance to keep an eye on me, to make sure I remain sane and loyal to Vinheim. Though I think the knowledge and discoveries I share with them in exchange for shelter and access to the school's library also count."
"I understand why you left." Griggs interrupted mercilessly, finally allowing true emotions to show. "But I never understood why you left me behind. One day, you were simply gone."
Logan couldn't answer at first, but it didn't take long for his quick mind to focus again.
"I'm sorry you felt I had abandoned you, but that was a misjudgement on your part, not a fault on my end."
Logan said strictly, the same way he had done years ago when Griggs refused to pay attention to his lessons and wrongly casted a spell as a result.
"From the moment we met, I told you I would only stay at the Dragon School for a few years, and that there was no way I could take you with me once I was forced to depart. You were young, inexperienced and free of the curse. You had no place in the company of a wandering and cursed man like me."
"And yet, now that I've grown and I'm cursed with the Darksign just like you, you can't wait to leave me behind again."
Logan had never heard so much bitterness in his student's voice. But, as always, what Griggs said was accurate and pertinent.
A prolonged silence followed.
The shine of four prism stones dug into the ground before the bonfire caught Logan's attention. He scrubbed the dirt and ash off them with his thumb.
A ritual common among the Astoran elite knights, akin to a burial. Was Oscar responsible? Yes, yes, most likely.
For Logan, death had become a meaningless concept.
But death is real.
Logan looked at Griggs again, and his student's gaze was there to meet his own.
And for some people, it comes too early.
"I'm sorry the Darksign manifested in you, Griggs." Logan said, speaking from his heart for the first time in what felt like ages. "It pains me to see your life was cut short."
"I am alive, am I not? I breathe, I think." Griggs replied without emotion, but his eyes were not as stoic. "Therefore, I still exist. Undead or not, I still am."
"Indeed." Logan smiled, but his beard hid it from Griggs. "As long as you remember this and you don't do anything reckless, you will live for a long time. That's the blessing of being Undead."
Before Griggs could answer, Logan stood up and turned his back on him. Then, he stretched until his shoulders cracked.
"Ah, much better! Say, I wonder if those knights and the pardoner made their way out of that fortress. I would have liked to help them, but to be part of such a large company would have driven me mad."
Griggs moved behind him.
Logan could hear him clearly.
Oh, child.
Griggs' arm wrapped around Logan's head and bent it backwards violently. A knife swiftly made its way underneath Logan's beard, and the cold touch of biting metal soon manifested on his neck.
"You knew this would happen." Griggs whispered to Logan, pulling him closer to his chest.
Logan did not resist. When it came to physical prowess , he was hopeless, and without his catalyst, he was at the mercy of his student.
"I did." Logan said without resentment or anger. "I knew it from the moment you gave the Slumbering Dragoncrest Ring to the Astorans, Griggs. I recognize an assassin's relic when I see it. You weren't what I would call elusive about it, and your attire is as subtle as an explosion."
"Don't you dare judge me. An assassin is what the Dragon School needed me to be, so an assassin I became. You cared not about what would become of me when you left me behind, so stop pretending you are shocked or disappointed about this revelation, master."
"I'm neither, Griggs." Logan said stoically as some blood began to leak into the threads of his beard, tainting it red. "For you always possessed the traits of a good assassin. It was only natural you'd end up like this."
Griggs' grip on him faltered for a moment and his breath hitched in his throat. Logan realized that his words had hurt his student in ways no spell ever could have.
"It was never my choice." Griggs said lowly in Logan's ear. "I never wanted any of this. Those missions of espionage and infiltration, all the assassinations… I didn't choose them, they were thrust upon me, just like everything else in my damn life."
Logan closed his eyes.
"But even in this cursed land, I'm still loyal to Vinheim. I'm efficient, I have never abandoned or failed in my missions." Griggs pressed the knife deeper into Logan's thorat. "This final task of mine shall be no exception. I'm going to kill you, master Logan. I'll kill you as many times as it takes until you go Hollow. Then, you'll perish for good by my hand."
"Go ahead." Logan said, opening his eyes and staring at the gray sky that spread endlessly above him. "Do whatever you think is best, young Griggs. That's all I can ask from my most accomplished student."
Logan remained silent as he waited for the first of his many deaths to manifest.
"You knew this would happen." Griggs was crying. The evidence was clear in his broken and stuttering voice. "And yet, you did nothing. You didn't try to kill me or run away from me. I gave you all the signs you needed to decipher my true intentions, and you did nothing. Even now, you're not trying to fight back. What am I to conclude from all this, master, other than you wish for me to kill you?"
"You have always been a clever lad." Logan said. "The answer to that question is something you must find out for yourself."
Griggs did.
His answer was a slit throat for Logan.
Ah, the folly of youth.
Logan collapsed to the ground like a rag doll. Soon, his body began to vanish into the air.
Before he disappeared, he looked at Griggs. For a second, his student wasn't an assassin or a sorcerer, but the boy that had wept for hours after Logan had first informed him of his inevitable departure.
The cold-heartedness of old age.
Your life will repeat itself for all time.
From the moment of your birth to your last breath, nothing in it will change.
The pleasure, the pain, the joy, the people you loved, the people you hated, the disappointments,the experiences fortune put you through and those you chose for yourself, the tragedies, the injustices; they all come back to you unaltered.
There is no escape or end to his cycle.
Time after time, you are forced to experience one same life from scratch.
Does this eternal recurrence scare you?
Does it make you wish you had never been born?
Is this the curse of some resentful god, or just a cruel jest of fortune and chance?
Does it matter?
The actions, the choices and experiences that conform your life cannot be undone once they happen.
There are no second chances, no new beginnings, only the company of your actions as they resonate eternally across an endless universe.
"Watch out!"
It was Oswald who pulled Solaire out of the way before an arrow pierced his chest. The projectile, activated by the switch Solaire had accidentally stepped on, flung through the air and crashed against the wall of the opposite chamber, scarring it with a deep dent.
Oscar swiftly came to Solaire's side to make sure he was unharmed. He gave Solaire no words of reproach.
Oswald, however, was not so indulgent.
"You're not strolling around the pompous gardens of Astora on a sunny day. Be mindful of your surroundings before your carelessness gets you killed."
Oscar intervened in Solaire's favor. The pardoner said nothing else about the matter, but the glare he dedicated to Solaire was harsh and severe. Solaire accepted it without resentment, for he knew it was well deserved.
Yet, he couldn't help himself. The words of the pardoner still echoed in his mind like a distracting chant.
Does this eternal recurrence scare you? Does it make you wish you had never been born?
For both questions, Solaire's answer was yes .
He hated himself for his weakness of spirit and his cowardice, but if what the pardoner said was true, if he was really cursed to relive his life for all time, he felt only despair.
Pardoner Oswald said he would share his wisdom with us. He said it would make us stronger, that it would help us be at peace with ourselves, but if there is any beauty or strenght to be found in in his words, I'm blind to it.
Then again, it was only natural a simple man like him couldn't understand the preaching of a pardoner.
Solaire looked at Oscar.
His friend walked in front of him at a steady pace. Unlike Solaire, Oscar remained focused and calm. If he had been affected by Oswald's words, he gave no sign of it.
I wish I had your strength of mind and your sharpness of wit, Oscar. If I did, maybe I would have lived a life I didn't regret.
"Hold." Oswald raised his hand and stopped. It had become a habit of his to guide them as if they were a couple of lost children.
It would have been insulting if Oswald's intuition wasn't so accurate too. Each time he ordered their marching to come to a halt, it was because of the presence of nearby serpent people or an unactivated trap. It had been Oswald, after all, who had taught them how to identify a Mimic from a normam treasure chest.
Though Oscar and Solaire had done most of the fighting, Oswald's caution was what had kept them alive and unharmed so far.
"Well, aren't we lucky." Oswald said, moving aside so that what lay beyond the doorway became visible for Oscar and Solaire. "We must cross another slim bridge guarded by swinging blades in a floorless chamber! And to make things even more exciting, the fall would be twice as high this time, and twice as lethal. This place just keeps getting better and better."
"The blades are too close to each other." Oscar observed. "We'll have to run for it at the right time to evade them all. It would be best if we crossed the bridge one at a time."
"My thoughts exactly." Oswald agreed.
"I'll go first." Oscar announced. Then, he turned around and put a hand on Solaire's shoulder. "I'll see you on the other side."
Solaire replied in the same manner. "Be careful."
"I will."
"Oh Velka, please give me the strength to endure the sugary displays of these two fools." Oswald rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Or else I fear my teeth will rot and fall off my mouth."
"Losing one's teeth is a common occurrence in elderly people." Oscar replied with cheek and merriment. "You needn't be ashamed of it, pardoner."
Oscar!
Solaire couldn't express his shock out loud, not when he was too busy trying to suppress his laughter.
"You are quite entertaining." Though Oswald looked angered, his tone sounded more amused than offended. "Maybe you would have been more proficient as a jester than you ever were as a knight."
"Perhaps in my next life, being a jester will be my trade of choice. Oh wait, that can't happen, can it? I only have this life to live for all eternity ."
"What a shallow interpretation of my words. I hope you think them over more mindfully once we are out of this hellish fortress." Oswald raised his hand again before Oscar could get any close to the doorway. "Don't be rash. There's another of those men serpent waiting for us to cross the bridge. There, in the hall on the left. Let me get rid of it, then you'll be free to delight us with another of your overly dramatic displays of courage, Oscar."
"Pardoner," Solaire intervened while Oswald took a dozen throwing knives from a hidden pocket of his tunic, "let us take care of it."
Oswald laughed without opening his mouth.
"Neither of you got a bow or any other sort of weapon to deal with enemies from a distance. I appreciate the gesture, but you'll only get in my way." Oswald turned his back on Oscar and Solaire, "Stay here. I won't take long."
If only my miracles…
Why had he lost them in the first place?
The crestfallen warrior.
The cruel things that man had said and done to him and Oscar.
Solaire did not resent the old sullen warrior for his actions, but he couldn't deny it had been him who had first caused him to doubt himself like he had never done in his life.
What he said… Am I really so brittle that a few words are all that it takes to break me?
Solaire had always considered him stronger than that. Maybe in his old living life, he had been.
Maybe Lordran had changed him.
Or maybe I never was, and Lordran merely unmasked my true self.
"Lords!" Oscar said with true concern as he watched how Oswald dodged a lighting attack the serpent-mage lunged at him.
The pardoner's movements were nimble and elegant. Despite the very limited footing the slim bridge offered him, he was able to evade and counter attack with no visible effort.
"Pathetic monstrosity!" Oswald exclaimed in excitement, throwing knives at his enemy with the accuracy of a seasoned bowman. "Persih!"
Lautrec.
Solaire couldn't avoid remembering his former traveling companion. He and Oswald shared many mannerisms.
His blood boiled in his veins.
Lautrec!
"Hey." Oscar put a hand on Solaire's back. The gesture caused all the rage seething inside Solaire to slowly fade away. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Solaire was ever grateful his helmet kept his incensed face hidden from Oscar. "I was just nervous about pardoner Oswald, but it seems he is more capable in battle than I thought."
"That he is. It seems he wasn't bluffing about his skills after all." Oscar raised his hand from Solaire's back to the top of his heaume, gave it a little shake as if he was rustling his hair, and then sat down on the floor.
Solaire imitated him.
"It is bothering you too, isn't it?" Oscar said after a short moment. Solaire looked at him without saying a word. "What Oswald said."
Solaire felt as if Oscar had struck him in the mouth. He remained idle and unable to speak.
Strange, he thought, how he found no solace in knowing Oscar was in the same situation as him.
You are stronger than me. And yet, you still have your own doubts. Your own fears and regrets.
It had been cold of him to think otherwise.
"Yes." Solaire finally said.
"How did it make you feel?" Oscar turned his head and looked at Solaire. "What did it make you think?"
Solaire pondered about it. A moment ago, his mind had been racing about the matter, but now that he had a chance to put his thoughts into words, his tongue felt heavy and clumsy.
"I'm afraid my opinion carries little weight, my friend. My interpretation and understanding on these sort of subjects have always been shallow and irrelevant." Solaire didn't intend to sound self-pitying, but what he said was true.
You are thick as a wall, boy. That's why the Lords blessed you with lots of health and strength instead.
Who had first told him that?
His father?
Well, he hadn't been wrong.
"If only Griggs was here." Solaire said with a small smile. " I'm sure he—"
"It is not Griggs' opinion I care about, but yours." Oscar said sternly, but not unkindly. He put his hand on top of Solaire's helmet again. "Your perspective has been soothing and illuminating to me many times in the past, Solaire. Don't disregard your opinion so easily."
Before Solaire could recover, Oscar asked him again, "So what do you think?"
"I…" Solaire hated how incompetent and daft he sounded. It wasn't until he remembered it was Oscar he was talking to that he relaxed and was able to focus. "It scared me, Oscar."
The confession left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. It made Solaire realize that his fear of being mocked, so deeply ingrained in his mind, hadn't been the only thing that had kept him quiet.
His pride had played a role too, greater than he dared to admit.
"The idea of living my life over again, time after time for all eternity." With a lighter chest, words slowly came easier to Solaire. "It would be an everlasting nightmare. I do not hate my life, but there are so many moments of it I wish I could erase from my mind… Experiences I wish the Undead curses had already taken away from me. "
Solaire bit his tongue.
How could he say that to Oscar, knowing how much his friend longed for his own lost memories?
"I feel the same way." Oscar said, moving down his arm to Solaire's shoulders and pulling him closer to him. His arm felt heavy, as if relief had made Oscar lose all his strength. "Lords, I do."
Far from feeling disappointed by having his expectations betrayed, Solaire felt grateful to Oscar.
He trusted him, he was allowing Solaire to see a part of his soul he seldom had shown to others.
If opening up to such an extent could prove difficult to Solaire, he could only imagine how much effort it had required from Oscar.
"Am I just to resign myself to such fate?" Oscar continued in a whisper. "How can I accept that all that's happened to me, all that I've done, is something I must carry for all time? It makes me feel as if my whole life had been a regretful accident, a mistake without reason. To think Death is not the end, that all of what I've done will come back to me eternally… What is there to accept about it? What is there to like?"
Oscar was frustrated, Solaire could feel in the manner his muscles tensed.
"What is there to love about such fate? The only thing it makes me wish is that I had never been—"
He couldn't continue.
Solaire put his own arm around Oscar's shoulders.
It was a question Solaire had no answer for.
But perhaps…
I am not a smart man. I'm thick as a wall. I was the idiot of the town, the laughing stock of the elite knights, the fool without reason that praised the sun.
Despite everything, he was able to give his friend a better answer.
"But we were born, there is no going back from that. We've lived our lives and now we are here." Solaire said, allowing his heart to speak in place of his mind. "It is not a godly curse or a punishment, it is just what it is."
"So resignation is the answer after all?" Oscar chuckled bitterly.
"No, I don't think it is. If our lives are truly all that we'll ever have, maybe we are not meant to love them. I'm not strong or wise enough to say I love my life or that I have no regrets… but maybe, someday, I'll be able to accept it without resentment. Maybe I'll look back at my life and say 'I did not get what I wanted, but I'm at peace with what I got . I'm at peace with who I am.' "
Oscar said nothing in response.
Solaire blushed behind his helmet.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Or maybe I'm just talking nonsense while thinking I'm saying something grand, like some drunkard preaching about the meaning of life at some meager tavern." Solaire laughed, wishing he had said nothing at all to begin with.
Oscar remained quiet.
Solaire began to fear he had offended him somehow.
He was about to apologize when Oscar finally spoke.
"To be at peace with my life and myself," Oscar said, his distorted voice sounding smoother than it had ever done, "would be the biggest blessing I could ask for. I don't know how I can make it happen, I don't even think I'm strong enough for it to happen at all, but I want to. Lords, I do."
"Then we'll make it happen." Solaire said. It sounded more like a promise than a statement. "We'll figure it out together. All right, brother?"
Oscar looked at him. His face was hidden behind the visor of his helmet, but Solaire swore he could still read his expression even if he couldn't see it.
"Yes." Oscar muttered. "Thank you, brother."
Pardoner, I hated your words. I thought you had been wicked and malicious when you told them to us. I thought of them as little more than one of Lautrec's venomous jabs.
Oswald threw the last knife. The agonizing scream of the man serpent resonated across the chamber, and was followed by the soft whistle of its falling corpse as it plummeted to the darkness below.
Oscar laughed under his breath.
"What's so funny?" Solaire asked him, already laughing as well.
"We Astorans really can be overly mawkish, can't we?"
"No! We just… well, only a bit. Ocassionaly, when the situation demands it." Solaire hesitated. Then, he shrugged and laughed again, "We certainly can. A lot."
When they laughed again, and they did so together.
But I was wrong. Now I see there's much Oscar and I can still learn from them. Even someone as dense as me —B
Solaire stopped.
No, he couldn't continue doing it.
Oscar was right.
He had to stop disregarding his own opinion so easily.
You are thick as a wall, boy.
Perhaps he was.
But he was much more than just that.
It was about time Solaire started to believe so himself.
Maybe I made a mistake.
Oswald's intentions had been pure, as they always were.
Granted, at times, he could be abrasive, extreme and, when the situation demanded it, ruthless; but his actions were always pure in nature.
Goodness and righteousness are not soft or kind. They are harsh, painful and testing. That's what makes them so valuable. Nothing of worth comes easy. Those who are good have never been cowardly or weak.
Yet, he had worried his words of wisdom had been untimely and out of place, for rather than encouraging the Astorans, they had troubled them and made them distracted, especially Solaire .
Curses! I knew I should have told them the fable of the dragon and the crystal lizard instead.
Thankfully, his worries were proven wrong once he returned to Oscar and Solaire after dealing with the meddling man serpent.
Whatever they had talked about in his short absence had brought some peace and resolution to their hearts. The idea of asking them about what conclusion they had reached crossed Oswald's mind, but he decided against it.
It would be unwise to distract the Astorans again now that they had finally regained their focus.
Besides, they were not in an expedition of self-discovery. They were in search of a murderous and despicable sinner.
Time was of the essence.
"Beware, knight." Oswald said to Oscar.
The three men were already halfway across the slim bridge. All that remained for them to reach the other side was to evade the swinging blades.
Oscar looked at Oswald over his shoulder.
"When you reach the other side, watch your step." Oswald cocked his head foward. On the platform's floor , just behind the last of the swinging blades, lay a switch. It was barely visible, but little could escape Oswald's eye. "Unless you want an arrow to pierce your chest."
Oscar looked for himself, and though Oswald doubted the knight could see the switch, he still thanked him for the warning and promised he would be careful.
Rather pertinently, Oscar wielded his shield on his left forearm.
Without wasting any more time, and once the swinging blades were in the right place, Oscar made a run for it.
Solaire let out a soft gasp. Oswald heard it clearly behind his back.
I admit I expected a much more exaggerated reaction from you.
Oswald thought, gazing at Solaire from over his shoulder.
He is nervous about the safety of his dear friend; yet, he remains composed and steady. A decent improvement from the aggressive knight that almost broke my rapier in half with his bare hands not so long ago.
After resting for a few seconds in a safe space between the swinging blades, Oscar ran towards the platform and reached it unharmed. Loyal to his promise to Oswald, his steps were careful and calculated.
The switch was never activated. To make things a bit easier for Solaire, Oscar rested his shield on the tile just before the switch, to serve as a landmark.
"Thank the Lords." Solaire sighed, not so subtly this time as Oscar waved at him from the other side.
"Easier than it looks." Oscar said cockily, no doubt to infuse Solaire's heart with confidence.
It was a foolish move in Oswald's opinion, for overconfidence often bred recklessness and stupidity.
Thankfully, Oscar recapacitated and exclaimed, "But this is not a game, so be careful!"
"Hey, I'm not a child!" Solaire replied, pretending to be offended but his voice cracking with a chuckle.
"You could have fooled me."
"Did you say something, pardoner?"
"I said we should hurry." Oswald said with a smirk. "Come, don't stay too far behind."
"Right!"
Soon, Solaire was just a few steps behind Oswald.
"By the way, pardoner."
"Yes? What is it?"
Solaire offered him his Estus flask. "You are injured."
Oswald stood ready to scold him for mocking him in such manner, but when Solaire pointed at his left side, Oswald realized he was indeed bleeding, if only shallowly.
So, one of the attacks of that cursed man serpent had managed to hit him after all.
"Oh." Oswald shrugged and gently pushed the flask away from him. "It's only a flesh wound. Worry not, I'll walk it off."
"But…"
"Oh, don't coddle me as if I was an old man that can't walk without his stick. Besides, it's not as if Estus would have any effect on me anyway."
"What?" Solaire, as always, did an awful job at hiding his shock. After putting his Estus flask away, he asked, "Pardoner, you aren't Undead?"
"This is no place to talk. I'll tell you about it later… perhaps, only if I feel like it, and if you and Oscar haven't driven me insane with your sentimentality by then."
Oswald turned his back on him and took a step closer to the swinging blades.
"I'll go first. Watch closely and perhaps you'll learn a thing or — "
A deafening explosion shattered the world.
By the time Oswald realized the lethal mistake his careless sole had made, he had only time to push Solaire away from the aftermath.
His impulsive movement was clumsy, and he feared he had accidentally pushed the Astoran to his death, but all of Oswald's fears were swallowed by the explosion that roared and burned underneath his feet.
A hidden landmine.
A trap developed by pyromancers of the Great Swamp…
And perfected by the warriors of Carim.
The sinner.
The true murderer of the fire keepers.
How could I have fallen for such a dirty trick?!
A generous portion of the bridge became nothing but rubble. Chunks of it collapsed to the darkness below like gigantic hail.
Oswald was blinded by a sharp and searing pain in one of his legs. Soon, it spread across his arms. His tunic became slick and warm with his own blood.
The agony forced him to lose consciousness. When he woke up, his ears were deaf to every sound other than a high-pitched ring that drilled into his drums like a dagger.
His legs swung limply in the air as his torso lay as stiff as a corpse just at the edge of the destroyed bridge.
I'm…
" — LAIRE!"
Slowly, Oswald's bloody body began to slide down the shattered edge.
I'm…
"Pa — oner! Pardoner!"
A big and strong hand clutched Oswald's just before his body fell out of reach.
I'm alive.
"Pardoner, hold on!" Solaire exclaimed at him. His own blood spilled generously from a wide cut on his shoulder. His green pauldron was crimson and wet, and from it, red drops fell and landed on Oswald's mask. "It's alright, I've got you!"
Sinner.
Yet, Oswald's tongue betrayed him and he pronounced a different word. A different name. "Solaire."
The slickness of their contact, worsened by the mixing of their blood, caused Oswald's hand to slip from Solaire's. Despite his grave injury and the hopelessness of their situation, Solaire continued to hold on to him, even when all that kept Oswald from falling to his death was Solaire's unstable grip on two of his gloved fingers.
You fool. Are you worried about the man that so much mistreated you? This old pardoner that failed to heal your curses?
The broken edge of the bridge began to shed pebbles. The structure would not support Solaire's and Oswald's combined weight much longer.
"Pardoner, you are going to be fine!" Solaire exclaimed, making a colossal effort to pull Oswald up, to no avail. "I'm going to save you, I promise!"
"Listen to me!" Oswald didn't know where he found the strength to yell, but he did. With his lungs filled with the dusty and acidic scent of black powder, he stared at Solaire right in the eye, "Steel your heart and move forward, Solaire! You and Oscar have to move on no matter what, you hear me? Show this cursed land the true power of Astoran knights! Bring justice to those maidens that were so cruelly slain! Be good, be strong, be brave!"
Solaire's eyes shone like sapphires behind the slit of his helmet. Oswald had never seen a sadder glance.
"And make that sinner pay for what he's done!"
His two fingers finally slipped from Solaire's hand.
Oswald fell.
The screams of the Astorans and the thought of his goddess were Oswald's only company as he plummeted to the darkest pits of the fortress.
