DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dark Souls or any of its related works.I do, however, own the fanart used as the cover; as I drew that myself.
WARNING: This fic assumes you've played through Dark Souls 3 and achieved the Usurpation of Fire ending! If you haven't done so, then you WILL be confused!
AN(1): So I'm currently changing jobs, because work had me so stressed and crippled my writing ability. But I have a lot of free time over the next couple of days, so expect more content over the next few days.
Chapter 2: Preparing For War.
Londor—the notorious land of Hollows—lies in the far North. A desolate and horrible place; covered in snow and frost, surrounded by bountiful forests of magic witchtrees. The creation of purging stones takes place here; a special item that restores a Hollow's body to what it used to be, allowing some semblance of normalcy.
The Usurpation was planned here, heralded in ages past in the place far away from the First Flame.
But now, beyond the branching towers of the Sable Church and deep in the heart of a small keep, the Lord of Londor sits on a stone throne; one of two that stand side-by-side. They are solid things, draped in cushions and cloths, yet unmistakably similar to graveyard headstones. An ironic, yet fitting throne, for the Undead Lord and his spouse.
His Lady Anri sits in the twin throne; eyes scanning over her progress with pride and joy, helm in her lap as she wipes the sweat from her brow, her gauntlets discarded. A blazing fire; one of the supplemental pyromancies of Carthus; licks all along her dull and blessed blade, a sign of her many hours of diligent practice.
Cornyx himself had spent many sleepless days teaching her the arts of Carthus pyromancies, to improve her ability and swordsmanship.
"How does it feel?" The Ashen One says slowly, his own helm removed and the Coiled Sword leaning against his throne. "Having finally learned pyromancy, that is."
"It feels..." Anri says, her sight hyperfocused on the dancing flames. "It feels warm; it feels right, but also dangerous. Like I'm too close to the edge, but also like I'm supposed to be there."
"Pyromancy." The Undead Lord says, removing his own gauntlets and lazily swirling one hand in a circular pattern. A tiny gout of fire spews from his palm, mimicking the hand's motion in a hypnotic spiral. "Knowing how to manipulate flame, while at the same time knowing that such a thing is not truly possible."
With a quick clench of his fist, the line of fire sputters and fades.
"Fear the fire." The Lord of Londor says. "For only Chaos awaits those who don't."
"You sound like Master Cornyx." Anri says, the flaming arc of her sword suddenly vanishing as her eyes finally take in their lack of an audience. "Where are the Fire Keepers?"
"Training."
"Training?" Anri sputters, setting her dull weapon and helm aside as she rises. "The Fire Keepers are training?"
"Yes, I fear that my enemies, past and future, will think they can get to me through them. So I have tasked Sirris and Yuria—"
"My Sunshine." Anri interrupts, her eyes closed and her smile sickeningly sweet as she approaches. "Please tell me you didn't order Knight-Hunter Sirris and Sister Yuria—who do not like each-other—to get along and train your personal tenders."
The Ashen One, rightful Lord of Londor and victorious Champion of Ash, feels a chill like frostbite run down his spine as his wife closes the distance; her hands coming to rest on his shoulders.
"I… might have?" The Undead Lord whispers, a sure statement turned into a question as one of Lady-Knight Anri's eyes starts to violently twitch. "Sirris and Yuria are fantastic swordswomen and Yuria's sorceries are easy enough to learn—"
"Dear?"
"Yes, Anri—?"
"You have forced a former worshiper of the Old Lords, as well as a founder of a church sect literally dedicated to desecrating the Old Lords, to get along and teach your most vulnerable maidens the arts of combat. Please tell me you understand why that's not a good idea."
"I know." The Lord of Londor sighs tiredly, reaching out and pulling his wife into his lap. "But my hands are tied… and we need everyone prepared as soon as possible."
The two of them curl together, seated on the one throne in a tight embrace. Fingers interlock as the Lady-Knight's head rests on the Ashen One's neck, a light kiss pressing underneath the Champion's jawline.
"Prepared for the war." Anri whispers, her husband's grip tightening on her ever so slightly.
"Irithyll lies at the base of Anor Londo." The Nameless Lord whispers back, his wife's thumb running over the back of his hand. "The City of the Gods is vital if we wish to survive the coming Deep."
"I know, Sunshine… and come Sun or Moon or Dark, when all the world shall turn against you; I shall be by your side. Always."
"And I shall be by yours. Always."
Meanwhile, in Londor Keep's open aired courtyard, Sunless Knight Sirris—Knight-Hunter of Londor—sighs for the millionth time and pinches the bridge of her nose sharply. Before her stands the Ashen One's Fire Keepers, black and white robes temporarily replaced with smooth leather armor; as well as the insufferable Yuria.
Each of the Keepers grip tight their own thin longblades; a pair of estocs—not unlike the one hanging from Sirris's hips—but instead crafted from Hollow gems, found plentifully in Londor.
"What is that fool thinking?" Sirris grumbles. "How am I supposed to teach two blind women the arts of swordsmanship? I'm not a miracle worker."
"Says the Sunless Knight, wielder of faith and miracles." Yuria says, watching Lady-Knight Anri's soldiers patrol Londor Keep's walls and hallways.
The Londor Knights—trained and armed by His Lady Anri—carry heavy inspiration from the giant knights of the Cathedral of the Deep, as well as the Undead knights of Lothric Castle. Clad in stout armor of solid iron, they are unmistakable amongst Londor's army. Heavy greatblades are swung one-handed like longswords; winged longspears are wielded with the same ease as shortspears; and the greatest and most powerful of the Londor Knights are able to heft mighty zweihanders.
Those of the Londor Knights that show remarkable prowess are even taught the pyromancies of Carthus, just like their Lady-Knight commander.
And; as with all Hollows native to Londor and its Sable Church; the Dark Hand engulfs their left hands in bloodied Dark fire.
"I had doubts." Yuria thinks. "But My Lord's spouse has been most effective."
"Watch it, Sister." Sirris growls with a sneer. "Your presence is tolerated, not welcome."
"Thy Lord welcomes my presence." Yuria says, smug lacing dripping from her every word. "Wholeheartedly in fact."
"My Lord is easily swayed by warrior women. My own hope is that he is not too swayed by you and yours."
"My my, thy holds such hostility. What could be the cause I wonder?"
"A gut feeling. One that has kept me alive, so far."
"Perhaps thy feelings art mere jealousy—"
"If I may." The previously black-robed Fire Keeper interrupts. "I believe thou both were meant to train us. It would reflect poorly on Londor's Lord, if those he handpicked spent their time arguing, instead of teaching."
The Knight-Hunter of Londor breathes harshly out her nose; a scowl etching itself deep in her features as her eyes close, mentally counting down from ten. The Middle Sister of Londor instead worries her bottom lip from beneath her helm; slightly worried she might anger her Champion, on account of riling the Sunless Knight too far.
"You are right." Sirris says, letting another harsh breath. "Before we start, how in-depth is your blindness?"
"I think you'll find we can see fine." The previously white-robed Fire Keeper says. "Blind we may seem, but our status as Fire Keepers should not be taken lightly. We can see the sovereigned souls that take shape inside our fellow Undead."
"Thy can tell an Undead's strength at a glance then?" Yuria asks.
"Yes, though not their experience or skill."
"A powerful ability, powerful indeed."
"We are getting off topic." Sirris cuts in. "The fact you two can somewhat see will make this easier, but you can't see weapons, correct?"
"Correct." The masked Keeper says.
"Then we shall need Cornyx for this."
"Our Sage-Scholar?" Yuria speaks, leaving her spot on the wall to stand by Sirris. "Why?"
"Those pyromancy tomes he reads, they are not written in braille. Yet I've never seen him take off his blindfold, so that means—"
"He can read written scripture without his sight! He can see without vision!"
"Precisely! Here's the idea I have so far—"
The Fire Keepers smile to themselves as the Knight-Hunter and Middle Sister of Londor start planning their training regiment, two reluctant allies bonding over their shared enthusiasm of swordsmanship.
Their plan, so far, is to have Cornyx reveal the secret to his visionless sight; then the two swordswomen will get to start teaching the royal maidens how to wield their new blades; followed by Yuria teaching her own personal repertoire of sorceries.
It will not be a quick process, but one the Lord of Londor wants done before mobilizing his army. Pontiff Sulyvahn is dead, but his Pontiff Knights and Fire Witches still scour the frozen city of Irithyll in the hundreds. And, to make matters worse, soldiers along the kingdom's borders have reported an increasing number of rivers in the forests.
The world has begun to sink, and time is running out for Londor.
AN(2): A shorter chapter, but I feel that it's a good cutoff point.The best part of the vagueness of Dark Souls and all its endings, is that reality can be whatever I want. The die has been cast, the Deep rises, and Irithyll will not give up its home without a fight.
Next fics to update will be the two Dragon Ball stories, the Sword Art Online story (with a possible new release; fingers crossed), and (potentially) the other Dark Souls story.
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