The journey to the Black Fort was rather uneventful for the first three days, and the fourth day was turning out to be little different. They'd finally entered forested terrain, taking refuge from the harsh rays of the summer sun that had beset them the days before. Many of the soldiers sighed in relief once they entered the shade of the thick foliage.

Cautious of the limited visibility offered by their surroundings, Vult sent Alistair and Hicks with a small contingent of men to scout the path ahead for any signs of danger. It hadn't even been half an hour before he heard several shrill, inhuman shrieks echo throughout the forest. Several minutes later, the scouting party returned; mostly unscathed save for the bloodied forms of the party's leaders.

Vult raised a brow in curiosity. "The hell happened to you two?"

"There was a skirmish with an enemy scouting party," Alistair reported.

Hicks scoffed. "A skirmish? Is that what you call it? Fucking hell, you massacred them!"

"They were merely goblins."

"Mere- They were led by a fucking champion!"

"Again, merely goblins."

Vult crinkled his nose in disgust. "Ugh, no wonder you smell like shit. Rubbed yourselves down with goblin guts, did ya?"

"No fucking choice," Hicks grumbled. "Al already started rubbing me down with the shit after we found the first one." He turned to glare at the knight. "You couldn't have just waited to regroup with the rest of the men?"

"No time. Had to be us. No guarantee that anyone else would've survived."

"Enough!" Vult yelled impatiently. "Did you find anything else?"

Alistair shook his head. "No traps, and no signs of any other demons forces. We should remain cautious regardless."

Hicks nodded in agreement. "When there's a scouting force, there's an army they report to. I'll tell everyone to be on their guard."

"After you clean that shit off of you," Vult commanded with a grimace. "No one wants to smell that shit when they don't have to."

Hicks snapped off an exaggerated salute before walking off to wash off all the blood and gore, Alistair following not far behind. As Alistair passed by Vult, the larger man punched his shoulder. "Good job, pup."

Alistair simply nodded. "My pleasure, Captain."

-]|[-

On the fifth day, the Black Dogs had encountered some resistance

"Al! To your right!" Hicks yelled over the roar of battle, kicking away an imp.

"Understood!" Alistair shouted, ripping his blade out of his current victim and bashed the pommel into an orc's face.

Their company was ambushed sometime around dusk, when they had already been tired from a long day of marching. A multitude of imps, orcs, and ogres charged into their marching line, engaging the company's rearguard. Thankfully the men knew to expect such a surprise due to Hick's discovery, but that didn't change the fact that they were fatigued.

Dispatching his foe quickly, Alistair was forced to roll out of the way of a giant tree trunk. The impact caused the ground to shake and sent debris into the air. Rolling to his feet, he saw that his new opponent was an ogre. It towered above even an orc, with angry purple skin and bulging muscles; sporting two large horns that threatened to gore its enemies. It roared savagely at him and swung its makeshift club again, sweeping in a wide arc that took out both friend and foe alike.

The knight slid under the attack, and just as the ogre's hand passed over him; he hacked off its thumb. He was bathed in black ichor, and his ears rang with the force of the demon's cry of pain. The tree trunk was sent flying into an unfortunate orc, who was crushed by the unrefined caber.

"Hicks!" Alistair shouted, hoping his companion could hear him over the various roars and screams of the melee.

An orc ran into his vision then, with Hicks riding on its shoulders and daggers buried into its back. The rogue slit the orc's throat and hopped down in front of the knight, panting slightly as he also stared down the ogre. "I'm here. Got a plan to take that thing down?"

Alistair brought his longsword up. "You go high, I'll go low."

"Sounds good to me!" Hicks yelled. The two men charged the giant demon, who had regained its bearings. It roared, swinging downwards with its large fists to try to crush the two humans. They easily dodged, however, as Hicks nimbly jumped onto one of the ogre's arms and continued to run up it. Howling a battle cry, Hicks lunged at the ogre's face and stabbed both of his daggers into the demon's eyes. Alistair, meanwhile, had carved into the ogre's ankles; severing the tendons and ligaments that supported its massive weight.

The demon stumbled forward, falling to its knees and roaring in agony. Hicks quickly jumped down as the ogre grabbed at its face; both in an attempt to crush him and to cover its horribly damaged eyes. Alistair jumped on its back, turning his blade around and grasping his sword firmly with both hands. With a victorious yell, the knight plunged his blade into the base of the ogre's neck, slipping right between its vertebrae and severing its spinal cord.

The ogre gave out a final death rattle, collapsing to the ground. The tremor that followed drew the eyes of all nearby combatants. The Black Dogs howled victory, their morale significantly boosting at the sight. Conversely, the morale of the demon forces plummeted upon seeing one of their most powerful fighters conquered by two measly humans. This was compounded with a second tremor further up the line: A second ogre had fallen to Vult's blade, rallying the men to reinforce their rear. In the end, fear overtook the ambushers and they began to flee.

-]|[-

The demons were routed, many slain as they ran back into the surrounding foliage. Vult decided not to pursue, instead urging his Black Dogs to press forward just a bit longer. The mercenaries gathered their dead and proceeded out of the forest, utterly exhausted from the day's events. They made camp a mile out from the forest entrance, unpacking their stores of food first and foremost.

Several fires were lit, and the men broke off into their own little cliques. Alistair joined Vult, Hicks, and Kin at theirs, all four men sitting in the cardinal directions.

Hicks savagely bit off a piece of jerky, sighing in relief as his stomach quieted a bit. "What a right mess today was."

"You told them to be on their toes," Kin said, taking a deep gulp of water from his flask. His throat was sore from shouting a multitude of incantations and spells. "We always knew it was a possibility, especially after finding that scout."

"It doesn't matter if you see a punch coming if you can't react to it." Hicks countered.

"Still, we lost less than I thought we would," Vult said through a mouthful of bread. "Thirty men killed from the projected sixty."

"And many more in wounded," Kin added, a sad look in his eyes. "Leeroy lost his sword arm: Damn thing was turned to mush by one of the ogres."

"He still has an arm left." Alistair pointed out. "The important thing is he's still alive to continue fighting."

Vult nodded. "Dead men can't get vengeance. I'm sure he'll fight even harder now."

"Speaking of vengeance…" Hicks trailed off, turning to Alistair. "You really hate demons, don't you, Al?"

"Is it so strange to hate such despicable creatures?"

"No," Hicks conceded, "But there's hate, and then there's hate."

"Is that so?"

"Al, I saw you feed an orc its own intestines."

"It looked hungry." The knight's words caught his companions off guard, sending them into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

Kin was the first to calm down. "Ha! Did the stoic Alistair just tell a joke?"

"It's the end of the world!" Hicks gasped for breath.

"Is that how it is?" Alistair asked, smiling beneath his helm.

Vult nodded with a smile. "It is.

Hicks finally recovered from his hysteria. "Hah, man, that was good. Fine, don't tell us."

"That's a shame. I was hoping for a story." Kin joked.

The resident rogue smiled. "Well, since someone," He gave an exaggerated nod towards the knight. "-doesn't wanna share, I guess I can tell one. In fact, I'd think you'd like this one, Al."

"Is that so?"

"Yep. You guys ever heard of the Demon Slayer?"

"What, you mean that folktale that popped up a few years ago?" Vult queried.

Hicks nodded in affirmation. "That's the one. Don't spoil it now captain."

Vult hummed in amusement as his friend began to tell his tale.

"Before the Black Dogs became the legends they are today, the demonic horde was unmatched and unchecked. They flooded into the human lands, ransacking villages and raping the women. High Queen Lucross and her Princess Knights did all they could to fight against them, but even they could not fully stem the demonic tide. All who did not live near one of the seven City Fortresses were left to their fate.

"One of these doomed settlements was Riverfell. The town was attacked by the great minotaur, Tauren the Torturer, and his horde. All was thought lost upon the sight of his army, but then a lone man, clad in armor, stood before the man-bulls. The demons had laughed, thinking that the human was meant as tribute; meant to whet their appetites and beg for mercy. But before Tauren had time to react, the man had already removed the minotaur's head from its shoulders.

"The horde that followed Tauren charged at the man, but they too were cut down. Then, wordlessly, the armored man wandered off without reward. He appeared again at Oakvale, where he had rescued the local village girls from a goblin nest. He was there at Lute to stop Loki the Imp, and cleared the Great Swamp of the ogres that made it their home.

"This man became known as Demon Slayer, the one man who the demons feared. It was he who brought the demons to heel when the Princess Knights could not. No matter the reward, no matter the danger, he would slay any demons he came across: From the lowest of goblins to the largest of ogres, and everything in between; all would fall to Demon Slayer.

"There were rumors about his true identity, for his visage was always covered by his helm. Some say he was the lone survivor of a battle against the demons, who lived to avenge his comrades. Others say he's no man at all, but a demon who turned on its brothers to atone for its sins. There are even claims stating he was a wraith, the vengeful vessel of all who have died at the demons' hands.

"Only one singular truth can be agreed upon: The Demon Slayer will never stop his crusade until the entire world is rid of demons, once and for all."

Hicks finished his story with a bow, earning the applause of all within earshot.

"You're a good storyteller Hicks." Vult praised. "But I liked the musical version better."

"Bah!" The rogue scoffed, taking a swig of his drink. "Everyone's a critic."

"It's a shame no one knows how to get in contact with this Demon Slayer." Kin said thoughtfully. "We could use a warrior like him in our ranks."

Vult grunted in agreement. "It's not like I haven't tried. You know I've sent scouts trying to find a lead on him. No one even knows his name. Hell, we don't even know if Demon Slayer actually exists."

The warrior turned to Alistair. "You know anything about the guy, Alistair?"

The knight shook his head. "This is the first time I've heard of this story."

Vult sighed. "Figures."

Alistair finished the last of his meal, having the rest of it during the story, and stood up. "I'm going to bed. Good night everyone."

The three leaders of the Black Dog mercenaries wished him the same, watching as Alistair disappeared into his tent. Hicks leaned over to Vult, a thought suddenly on his mind.

"Hey Vult, didn't Al say that he worked as a freelancer before joining us?"

Vult raised a brow at Hick's question. "Yeah, what of it?

"You don't think he's…"

"You think he's the Demon Slayer?" Kin finished for the rogue. The mage shook his head in disbelief. "Impossible. Alistair is a good fighter, but there's no way he could have done all that."

"But he took down an ogre-"

"With your help." Vult reminded him. "Demon Slayer took down multiple ogres single-handedly. Hell, I took down an ogre by myself."

Hicks looked back over to Alistair's tent, then sighed in defeat. "Yeah, you're right. Guess I was more tired than I thought."

-]|[-

Alistair sat on his bedroll, pulling out his Tele-stone. He had to give his daily report to Celestine. "Your Grace, I'm ready to give you my report of today's events."

The crystal in his hand glowed faintly as Celestine's voice responded. "Good evening, Sir Alistair. You may begin."

"As expected, we were ambushed near the end of today's march. Casualties were below expectations."

"That is good to hear. Did you sustain any injuries, my knight?" She asked in concern.

"None."

"Thank goodness!" She sounded relieved, as she had every other time when asking about his well-being. He continued with his report.

"The ambush had not significantly slowed us down. We will still be arriving at the Black Citadel within two days' time."

"Excellent. Is there anything else?"

"I was told a story. About the folk hero called Demon Slayer."

"Ah, yes. A relatively new one that's been quite popular nowadays. Does it interest you?"

"Somewhat. There are some exaggerations, but it's been mostly accurate." Like how he felled an entire army of minotaurs. Tauren had only attacked with a small band of five, including itself. Then how he cleansed the Great Swamp of ogres: By the time he got there, some strange creature with a pet donkey had already dealt with the demons.

"Oh? Are you a witness to the feats of Demon Slayer then?"

"Something like that."

There was a pause. "How are you feeling, Alistair?" Celestine asked.

"Fatigued. Anxious."

"Then go ahead and sleep. Rest your weary mind and body."

"I will. Good night, Your Highness."

He could hear her smile, if that was even possible. "Sweet dreams, my knight."

-]|[-

The company did not meet any more resistance from the demons. Rather, they fought the very land itself. The blackened earth and foliage of the Badlands brought a feeling of dread and unease. The water here was toxic, finding it bordering acidic when one of the Black Dogs accidentally dropped their shield into one of the many pools: The piece of equipment had near-instantly corroded and rotted to foam. A few mindless beasts had attacked them, rabid and crazed with corruption. On the seventh day, they had finally arrived at their destination.

The Black Citadel stood tall and imposing, blacksteel walls jutting out of the ground and converging on a spire with a large crystal at the very top. A dark miasma swirled around it, dense and suffocating. The very sight of it drained the morale of the Black Dogs: There would be no chance of breaking down the walls; they would have to either scale them with ladders and siege towers or break down the large metal gates.

The Black Dogs spent the next three days building siege equipment, finishing in record time thanks to only having to assemble the constructs with premade materials. Soon, two siege towers were erected alongside a large battering ram. The head of the ram was capped with a steel dog's head, in the likeness of the Black Dog's coat-of-arms.

The assault had begun on the eleventh day.

"To the walls men! Let nothing stand in your way!" Vult roared, pointing his greatsword at the fortress. Their constructs of war groaned and creaked as they were pushed towards the Citadel's walls. Many demons stood atop the ramparts, launching arrows and boulders at the Black Dog's siege engines. Above them, gargoyles hovered and shrieked as they swooped down upon the humans, creating disarray in their rank; carrying off Black Dogs and dropping them from the clouds. The flying demons were a menace to the human forces: Their stone-like hide shattered arrows on impact, and they moved too fast to be hit with most spells. They wielded a variety of polearms, and were naturally gifted with large, sharp claws and bladed tails.

One such demon landed in front of Alistair, crushing a man beneath its feet and killing him on impact. It screamed at him, lunging at the knight with its poleaxe. Alistair easily deflected the blow and swung for the gargoyle's neck. His longsword shattered against its hide, sending metal fragments scattering through the air. It turned, grinning at Alistair with a toothy and arrogant smile. Said smile was very quickly lost as the knight drove the remains of his blade into the demon's right eye, making it shriek in pain and fury.

It tripped the knight with its tail, sending him sprawling to the ground. Alistair quickly rolled to the side, the bladed segment of the gargoyle's tail cutting deeply into the space he previously occupied. Scrambling to his feet, he dove at the corpse of demon's previous victim and looted its armaments: A heater shield and flail. Alistair turned to face his opponent, the flanged ball of his flail dangling ominously. The gargoyle finally tore out the broken sword from its face, copious amounts of blood spilling from the wound; and whipped around like the rabid beast it was, snarling at the human before it.

It launched itself high into the air, then dove at the knight with its poleaxe extended, fully intent on running him through. Alistair waited until the last possible moment to dodge, letting the gargoyle zoom past him. However, just as it passed, the winged demon swung its tail to the side and landed a heavy blow on the knight. The axe-like tip struck Alistair's hastily raised shield, launching the man off his feet and after the demon's wake.

Alistair hit the ground in a roll, coming to a stop just a few feet away from the gargoyle. It lunged at him again, pushing off the ground with its powerful legs and a flap of its wings.

The knight was ready this time, however.

Just as the gargoyle was upon him, Alistair sidestepped the tip of its poleaxe and whipped his flail into the demon's face. The flanged head struck the gargoyle's snout with the force of the creature's own momentum, completely decimating its facial structure and forcing it off course. The demon tumbled to the ground in a crash landing, kicking up a large cloud of dust as its body created a deep furrow in the earth.

Alistair jogged up to crash site, shield raised protectively in front of him. The dust cleared swiftly, revealing the gargoyle's kneeling form. Black ichor dripped heavily from its head, its face completely malformed from the force of impact. The Black Dog could hear the demon's labored breathing and saw how it struggled to raise itself to its feet.

He began to swing his flail in a circular motion, the metal ball quickly accelerating to a breakneck pace as Alistair approached the dying demon. As soon as he was in range, Alistair swung down at the gargoyle's cracked cranium. The winged demon's stone-hard skin did not protect it this time, its head cracking and crumbling under the force of the blow. The rest of its body began to petrify, turning fully into stone as the demon breathed its last. Alistair regarded his opponent for the final time before mercilessly crushing the newly created statue to pieces. He turned back to the battle at hand.

One of the siege towers had been destroyed and set alight, the men inside jumping off the burning construct to escape the flames, even if it meant death by gravity. The other had successfully managed to reach the wall, Black Dogs howling and shouting as they fought the demons for control of the ramparts. The ram had also reached its target. The dog-head siege engine slamming into the gates repeatedly, a loud ringing accompanying each impact. A visible dent could be seen where the ram hit the gates. It would not be long until they were forced open.

Suddenly, the ram had stalled mid-swing, gears and chains groaning in protest as the operators tried to force it to work. The knight turned his attention towards the roof of the construct, where another gargoyle had forced its bident into the ram's mechanisms. He quickly ran towards the construct, climbing the ladder that led to the top of the machine. The demon did not hear him come up due to the various sounds of battle, allowing Alistair to blindside it with a swing of his flail.

The flanged ball punctured and cracked the gargoyle's face but did not kill it. It did, however, send it staggering backwards, away from its weapon. Alistair quickly removed the bident from its home in the ram's gears, freeing the mechanisms that allowed the ram to swing. The loud ringing of the ram striking the gate resumed in full. The knight immediately turned his attention back to his foe. The demon was still dazed from his first strike, so it did not notice the human charge at it with his shield raised.

With a furious yell, he drove the rim of his shield into the gargoyle's skull, staggering the creature further and sending it to the floor. It whimpered weakly in pain, barely conscious of the sound of an accelerating chain whipping through the air. The business end of the flail brutally crashed down on the demon's head, sending stone, bone, and ichor soaring.

The ram struck the gate one last time, sending the metal doors flying inwards. The Black Dogs roared in triumph as they flooded through the breach, quickly overwhelming the defending demons. Alistair looked upon the scene curiously.

'We should not be overwhelming them so easily. Where are all the demons?' He thought in confusion. While it was true that the Black Dog mercenaries were a particularly large company—large enough to be called an army in its own right—they should not have so easily won against such a well-fortified fortress such as the Black Citadel. 'Even if there were more troops within the castle interior, they would have all rushed out once our siege engines got to the walls. Unless…' He looked upon the menacing spire, the crystal above glinting against the sun's rays.

'… There was hardly a garrison left.'

-]|[-

Alistair rushed through the castle interior with a small contingent of Black Dog veterans led by Vult. Hicks and Kin were left with the rest of the army to clean up any demons that remained outside. Soldiers splintered off into pairs as they ran down the corridor, fighting against the few defenders that remained. Soon, it was just him and Vult.

"Something isn't right," Alistair said as they ran. "There are too few demons here."

"Hey, I'm not complaining!" Vult laughed. "That just proves that Olga never expected us to make it this far! What a stupid woman!"

Alistair said nothing more. Suddenly, the stone beneath them shifted. Both of their combat instincts screamed at them to move, and they dove away from each other. The spot they previously occupied was soon skewered with metal spikes. The spikes did not retract, closing off the corridor and separating the two men.

"Vult!" Alistair cried in alarm.

"I'm fine!" The warrior yelled. Alistair could see the frustrated look on his captain's face. "Go on ahead to the throne room! I'll meet you there!"

The knight didn't argue, giving a slight grunt before doing just as ordered. He soon came upon a set of double doors, made of the same blacksteel as the Citadel's walls. He didn't dare waste any more time. With a grunt, he barreled through the doors, parting them with a loud 'clang' as they bounced against the walls.

"How barbaric." A cool, demeaning voice remarked. He glanced upwards, letting his eyes fall on the magnificent ruler of the Black Citadel: Olga Discordia, Queen of the Dark Elves, sat upon her throne. She glared down at him from her seat. "Did humanity fall so low as to forget how to use doors?"

Alistair heard the tales of Queen Discordia's beauty, but only now realized how true the gossip was. If he had to compare, then he could safely say that the only woman who could match the Dark Elf in a contest of beauty would be Celestine Lucross herself. A body, surely sculpted by the gods in their image, barely covered with black and purple cloth. Long, silky black hair fell down her back, coming as low as her ankles. Sharp amber eyes stared through his soul and deemed him unworthy.

"To think, after all this effort of besieging my home, your people sent a single man to confront me. I would be insulted if I wasn't so amused by your stupidity." She mocked. She turned her head to the side. "What do you think, Chloe?"

A movement at the edge of his vision caught his eye. Another dark elf, this one with blonde hair tied up into a tail, with a long bang covering her face, emerged from the shadows. Her body was lithe but supple; her modesty barely covered with leather and blue cloth. She moved silently but purposefully, tensed for combat. He barely noticed the hilts of daggers sticking out of her boots. With her confident posture, he deduced that she was just no less lethal without them than with.

"I, too, find it hilarious that humans could be so foolish, My Queen." The blonde responded, maroon eyes staring loathingly at him.

Olga's voice echoed as she addressed Alistair once more. "Well, human, you've finally reached me. Are you going to strike me down? Avenge your worthless comrades?"

"No." In a move that shocked both Dark Elves, the knight tossed his weapon to the ground. "I came to capture you." He said truthfully.

Chloe bared her teeth at his words. "Like I'd ever let you lay a hand on Her Highness! You've already seen how hopeless it is, haven't you? That's why you tossed away your weapon!"

Alistair shook his head. "I'm entering a battle of diplomacy. The only weapons I need are my words." With his gaze transfixed on Olga, he began his approach. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chloe reach for her weapons and prepare to lunge at him. Just before she attacked, he stopped at the base of the staircase and genuflected before Olga. This action further befuddled the Dark Elves, who looked upon the man curiously.

The knight began to speak. "Queen Discordia, I have been sent by the Queen of High Elves, Celestine Lucross, to take you back to the White Citadel of Ken unharmed. I ask that you please surrender yourself to my custody, so that I may bring you before Queen Lucross."

Olga's eyes narrowed. She could sense no lie in the man's words, yet she had her doubts. "Suppose I do as you say and surrender, what will happen once we arrive? Your queen and people would have me tried for crimes against humanity. I would meet my death and humiliation there."

"I promise you that is not the case. Queen Lucross merely wishes to make amends and discuss peace."

A look of incredulity crossed her visage. "Peace? After several hundred years of war, she wants peace!?" Olga shouted in rage. "She gave elven lands to the humans time and time again. Our sacred ancestral lands, desecrated by human filth! You humans are always so greedy, never satisfied with what you're given. That's why your kind always waged war, be it on the other races or yourselves: You keep asking for more, and when you don't get your way, you take it by force!"

"But don't you think this war has gone on long enough?" Alistair asked beseechingly.

He heard Chloe scoff to the side, while Olga threw her head back in cruel laughter. "This war will continue until your species is wiped from existence."

His next words immediately drew their ire. "The Dark Elves are more likely to go extinct than humanity."

"What arrogance!" Chloe growled.

"Not arrogance," He countered. "But the truth. Since the beginning of this conflict, the Dark Elf population has steadily declined, whereas humanity's is still quite numerous in comparison. You forget that the High Elves, Halflings, and many of the beastmen tribes fight alongside humanity. Your people, on the other hand, fight alone. You have no allies to rely on, no time for relief; for the burden of this war lies solely upon your shoulders. "

Olga gave him a contemptuous stare. "I have the armies of demonkind under my control. They are the only aide necessary to crush your weak and pitiful race."

Passion ignited upon hearing her rebuttal. "The demons only fight for you under fear of death. The moment you show weakness, they will turn on you; as they are wont to do. Do you not tire of constantly fearing a mutiny at their hands? Do you not miss having people you can rely on?"

He stood up, eyes brimming with determination as he locked gazes with the Dark Elf Queen. "Do you not miss Celestine?"

His words caused her to recoil slightly before anger consumed her being. "And what would you know of my relationship with her?" She spoke coldly as she pointed her staff at him. The tip of the staff began to glow dangerously, ready to release a lethal spell at her command. "Be warned that I will obliterate you if I do not like your words."

"I know that you two used to be close friends since childhood." As he spoke, he unlatched his helmet.

"I know that you shared a friend, one who you've also known since birth."

He lifted the helm from his head, baring his face to her.

"His name…"

Silver hair fell to his ears, matted by his helmet. Crimson red eyes met her amber ones with a steadfast gaze.

"Was Alberich Aquila."

She gasped in shock, her staff dropping out of her now lax grip; the spell within dissipating harmlessly as the glow faded. She brought her hands up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide as saucers as she began to tear up.

"… A-Alberich?" She whispered in a shaky voice.

"My Queen?" Chloe asked worriedly. Her words fell on deaf ears as Olga rose from her throne, slowly walking down the flight of steps. Then, when she had reached halfway, she began to sprint like she was possessed, leaping at Alistair from the last step.

The knight quickly caught the Dark Elf, feeling her arms drape over his shoulders as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. She felt her tears against his skin, heard her sob and hiccup with every breath she took.

"Alberich… I'm not imagining things." Olga murmured. She pulled away slightly as she turned up to stare at his face. He saw her smile, her beauty increasing tenfold even with tears streaming down her face. She cupped his face in her hands, gingerly caressing his flesh as if scared he'll suddenly crumble away. Alistair noted the softness of her hands and the pleasant feeling of them on his skin. "Y-You're real… But, but I had thought-"

"I am not Alberich." The knight could see her smile falter. "He is my ancestor. My name is Alistair Aquila, knight of High Queen Lucross of the Seven Shields Alliance."

There was a flash of clarity in her eyes as she backed away. "O-Of course you're not him. Alberich died ages ago." Her voice was filled with sorrow. "I had forgotten that all firstborn sons of Aquila share a face. But, even still… "

She regarded him with a small smile, one not as fondly as the last, but still quite happy. "An Aquila, in this day and age. I had thought your bloodline extinct with the death of Altair."

"I do not know the circumstances that led to our continued existence," Alistair admitted, "but nevertheless, I stand before you now. I ask once again that you come with me to meet Queen Lucross."

"My Queen Discordia, surely you are not considering this human's offer?" Chloe protested.

"… Very well, Sir Alistair. I shall place myself in your care."

"Your Highness!?"

Olga turned to her subordinate. "This human can be trusted, Chloe. He hails from the household of an old friend of mine. Of all the humans, those of House Aquila are the exception."

A frown marred her features, but Chloe relented. "As you will, Lady Olga." Her gaze shifted to Alistair, glaring at him. "If that is the case, then I will also accompany you. I do not trust you with Her Highness's safety."

Alistair nodded. "That is fine, though I promise that no harm will befall either of you under my protection."

Chloe scowled. "That remains to be seen."

Suddenly, the doors of the throne room were thrown open once more. Chloe moved to Olga's side as Black Dogs streamed into the hall. Vult stood at the fore, a dangerous grin on his face.

"Well, if it isn't the Dark Queen herself! Good work on disarming her Alistair." Vult gestured for his men to surround the Dark Elves. Before they could move, however, Alistair retrieved his weapon and stood in front of the women protectively.

A look of confusion appeared on Vult's face. "Alistair?"

The knight quickly donned his helm once more. "There's no need for further violence. They've already surrendered to me."

Vult paused before smiling at Alistair. "Ah, I see. In that case, I'll have the men take them to the dungeon."

"That won't be necessary," Alistair said with a shake of his head. "I'll do it myself. You should sweep the castle and eradicate any remaining demons."

The warrior frowned as his subordinate's words. "Are you giving me an order, Black Dog?"

"Merely a suggestion, sir."

Olga stepped forward to Alistair's side. "My guard and I have surrendered to Alistair Aquila and no one else. If anyone else attempts to detain us, then we will retaliate in full."

Vult glared at Olga, deciding to call her bluff. "You don't even have a catalyst to cast your spells."

The Dark Queen's hand sparked and crackled with electricity, meeting Vult with a glare of her own. "You are ignorant to think I even need one."

Alistair gently but firmly lowered Olga's hand, giving his leader an unrelenting stare. "Captain. Please." He pleaded.

Vult met Alistair's gaze with his own, entering a battle of wills with the knight. A moment of intense silence passed before Vult scoffed. "Fine."

Alistair nodded. "Thank you, Capt-"

"Hold on." Vult interrupted with a raised hand. He turned his head and barked at the men behind him."Cuffs." One man quickly ran up and gave Vult two sets of iron manacles. He dangled them in the air, the chains rattling loudly. "You'll need these. Can't have prisoners walking around without restraints."

Apprehensively, Alistair approached to receive the handcuffs. As Alistair touched them, Vult grabbed Alistair's arm and pulled him close. The larger man glared down at the knight, tightly gripping Alistair's forearm and causing the gauntlet protecting it to groan in protest.

"You're a Black Dog, Alistair." He growled threateningly. "That means you answer to the Alpha. Don't make me remind you again."

With that, he shoved Alistair back, causing the knight to stumble slightly before catching his footing, and turned to exit the room. "Let's clean up the place, men."

The Black Dogs began to file out of the room behind their leader. As the last man left the room, the doors loudly slammed shut, sealing the throne room once more. The three remaining occupants remained tense for a few more moments until the footsteps completely faded, then all let out sighs of relief. Chloe gave Alistair an inquisitive look.

"You stood against your commanding officer for us. Why?" She asked confusedly.

Alistair turned to face the Dark Elf. "I made a promise— to you, Queen Discordia, and Queen Lucross— that I would personally ensure your safety and well-being. I cannot risk having you two in their custody. After all, many of them blame you for much of humanity's suffering. I would not put it past them to try and harm you or Queen Discordia in some way. Which reminds me…"

The knight knelt at Olga's feet, surprising both women. "I apologize for laying my hands on you, Your Grace. I had merely wished to avoid confrontation with my captain."

The Queen of Dark Elves smiled fondly, his actions reminding her very much of his forefathers. "I understand, Alistair. You do not need to apologize."

Chloe kept her startled expression, thousands of thoughts racing through her mind as she regarded the interaction between the two. 'This human, he's not like any others I've ever met. He's respectful and sincere, never once raising his voice against us despite our hostile actions. And Her Highness… I've never seen such an expression on her face before. Just who is this 'son of Aquila'?'

Alistair proceeded to restrain the Dark Elves with the manacles, though in such a way that was more for show than anything else. Additionally, he confiscated Chloe's daggers, strapping them to his belt alongside his flail and earning a glare from the blonde.

Satisfied with his work, he asked, "Would you please lead me to the dungeon? I may have said I'd escort you there myself, but I know nothing of the castle's interior."

Olga could not help but chuckle, the sound of her laughter very pleasant to the ears. "Very well, Sir Alistair. I shall give you the honor of imprisoning me within my own castle." Her voice was teasing, almost seductive. "But in return, I must ask a favor of you."

Alistair bowed his head. "Yes, Your Majesty. Ask away."

Olga raised her hand towards her fallen staff. It smoothly flew through the air and into her waiting palm. She then offered it to Alistair. "Please, keep this safe for me. It was a gift from one of your ancestors, so I would hate to leave it in the care of anyone but you."

The knight nodded, reaching forward to firmly grasp the staff.

"NnnghhAAAAAHHHH!"

As soon as Alistair's fingers touched the staff, pain filled his very being. He screamed like he's never had before in his entire life. Thoughts and voices that were not his own filled his mind, threatening to tear it asunder!

-]|[-

He stared down at the small girl before him, unable to stop himself from smiling at her joyful expression.

"Happy Birthday Olga." He said, watching as his friend of sixty-five years hug the staff to her small frame. It had cost him a small fortune, as the staff was made of some of the rarest materials known to Eostia. It would serve her well once she had reached physical maturity.

It was a shame he likely wouldn't live long enough to see it.

"Oh Alberich, it's amazing!" Olga squealed, prancing about in glee. She paused her celebration to jump into his arms. "Thank you so much!"

"It was nothing." He responded sincerely. It was true: He would do anything to bring a smile to her or Celestine's face.

Olga drew back, a small pout on her lips. "It certainly is not! You deserve something in return!"

He shook his head. "Your happiness is payment enough."

"No! I will give you something in exchange, something priceless and very dear to me." She regarded him with a commanding stare. "Close your eyes. I wish for it to be a surprise."

Sighing, he did as she asked. "I thought only the birthday girl was meant to receive gifts."

"This is a gift for me. A mutual gift."

Suddenly, he could feel small lips on his own. He opened his eyes in shock, seeing Olga's face pressed against him. She drew back after a moment, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Olga?"

"There, my first kiss. You should feel honored." Her cheeks were flushed. He was very surprised she managed to say such a thing with a straight face. She leaned against him so that her head rested on his collar and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Become mine." She whispered.

He hugged her close, enveloping her in his warmth."You know I can't do that. I'm a married man, a father."

"I don't care. Your wife is not long for this world and neither are you. Spend your last moments with me."

"I love my wife too much to do that."

"Would you have married me if I was human?" She asked suddenly. The Dark Elf grasped at her still-developing chest. "If my body had aged as fast as yours, would it be me at your side instead of her?"

"…Do not ask a question you already know the answer to."

Olga smiled, the small victory filling her with elation even as tears began to form.

"It's not fair." She said, her voice threatening to break. "Why must you humans age so fast? Why can't you stay at my side forever?"

He ran a hand through her hair, holding her close. "Because every race has its vices and virtues: Ours just happen to be opposites of each other."

"I wish you were born an elf."

"Is that so?"

She hummed in confirmation. "Celestine feels the same."

"I see…" He glanced at the long, tapered tips of Olga's ears. "There are times I wish that as well."

"Only sometimes?" She asked curiously.

He nodded. "I am thankful for what I've been given in life. I have married a wonderful woman, who has blessed me with an equally wonderful son. Then, I was blessed to have been friends with you and Celestine since childhood. If I asked for more, the Gods would think I was ungrateful and take you all from me."

He felt her small frame tense against him as she finally broke down.

"I love you, Alberich." She sobbed, clutching at his chest.

He patted her back soothingly, a content smile on his face.

"I love you too, Olga."

-]|[-

Then, just as suddenly as it came, the pain stopped. He gasped, falling to his knees as he took in shallow breaths.

"Alistair!" Olga cried, rushing to his side. "Alistair, are you all right!?"

The knight could barely nod, adrenaline coursing through his system.

"What the hell just happened?" Chloe asked, also moving to aide the man.

"I…" He paused, grasping his sore throat. "I don't know." His gaze shifted to the staff still clutched in his hand.

'The same staff I had—no, that Alberich had given her. Why… Why do I know this?'

He was not his ancestor—he had just pointed that out to Olga a few moments ago—so why did he have Alberich's memories?

"We should go." He said decisively, forcing himself to his feet. "If anyone heard my scream, they could use that against you. We must get to the dungeon before that."

Olga stared at him worriedly. "Are you sure that you are fine?"

"I am." He gestured for her to take the lead. "Please, Your Grace."

The Dark Elves shared a look before beginning their trek towards the dungeons. Alistair fell into step behind them, pushing the event to the back of his mind. He had not time to dwell on such a thing for now.

-]|[-

The trio managed to reach the dungeons without any major troubles. A few passing Black Dogs did leer at the Dark Elves, but a quick staredown with their armored escort sent them running. They stopped in front of one of the prison cells, having grabbed its key from the warden's room on the way in. It lacked any sort of furniture, having been designed to accommodate prisoners of war and nothing else. Alistair opened the cell door for his charges, then removed their restraints.

"I'll be right back." The knight said, disappearing down the corridor. He returned a few minutes later, dragging a pair of mattresses behind him and carrying some blankets under his arm. He brought them into their cell, laying the beds against the stone walls far out of reach of the metal bars. "I'm sure they are not what you're used to, but it will be better than sleeping on the ground."

Olga gave him an appreciative look. "Thank you, Alistair. This was very thoughtful of you."

"It was only what was expected." He replied with a bow. "Prisoner you maybe, but you are still royalty."

Chloe fought down the smile that tried to show itself. 'This human certainly knows to respect my queen.' She praised silently, then glanced at the second mattress. 'And… he even brought one for me.'

Alistair pulled out his tele-stone from his pouch. He held it up to his face in a practiced manner.

"Your Grace, I am ready to give you my report." He told the crystal. Olga and Chloe looked at him curiously.

Celestine's voice responded a moment later. "Good evening, my knight. What has happened?"

"Queen Discordia has been taken into custody, along with her servant. They gave themselves willingly."

"Excellent news!" Celestine squealed. "I knew you would not fail me, Alistair."

"Would you like to speak with her?" He asked, both to Celestine and Olga. There was a contemplative look upon the Dark Elf's face before she nodded.

"… Yes, I would like that very much." Celestine said after a small pause.

Alistair offered the crystal, Olga taking it with after a bit of hesitation.

"Hello, Celestine." Olga's tone was formal and somewhat cold.

Celestine's, in contrast to her counterpart, was warm and nostalgic. "Olga. It has been centuries since I've heard your voice. It is good to hear from you."

"I suppose I could say the same." She looked up from the stone, her attention focused on the knight in front of her. "You have sent quite the interesting man to get in contact with me."

"It had seemed like the perfect opportunity. You should have seen how surprised I was when I found him."

Olga smiled. "He looks just like Alberich. I had thought he came back from the dead."

A gasp was heard. "You saw his face?!"

"Oh? Do you not even know what your knight looks like beneath his helm?" Olga mused.

Celestine growled. "He refuses to take it off! He always gives the excuse that he could be ambushed!"

"Then I'm glad he finds me safe enough to bare his visage to me." Olga's eyes glinted with mischief. "Hmm… If he finds it comfortable to show me, a hostile power, his face; then what does that say about you?"

Silence.

"… I hate you." Celestine whispered, her voice rising to a crescendo as she began to scream. "I hate you so much! I forgot how irritating you are to speak to!"

"Aww, is the great High Elven Queen Celestine Lucross getting frustrated?"

"YOU ARE INSUFFERABLE! YOU HAVEN'T CHANGED AT ALL!"

"And neither have you, Celestine."

Another pause occurred. Then, Olga snickered. It was quiet at first, but then a low giggling came from the tele-stone. The two queens set one another off as the corridor was consumed by their beautiful laughter.

Chloe watched in amazement: She had never seen her queen laugh so joyously before. It brought a smile to the bodyguard's face. Chloe found that she quite liked the sound of Olga's laughter. She turned to regard the man that made it possible, and wondered if she could also bring such joy to her queen someday.

Alistair also observed the scene quietly. A foreign feeling welled in his gut, like butterflies were fluttering about within him. Olga's cheerful expression and the laughter shared with Celestine was quite pleasant. He imagined the two girls from the portrait in place of what he saw before him.

'It is just like old times.'

The thought gave him pause, for it was not entirely his own. Alistair raised a hand to his helmeted head, wondering if he was cursed from the staff. His body did not ache as it had earlier, but his memories were a mess. He knew of events he should not know, been to places he's never heard of.

The laughter died down, a bright smile on Olga's face. "I've missed this, my friend."

"I feel the same, Olga. However, we must save our conversation for another time, as I have many matters to attend to."

"I understand Celestine. Have a pleasant evening."

"You as well. Oh, and Alistair too." As the soft glow of the tele-stone faded, Olga handed it back to the knight.

Olga beamed her appreciation. "Thank you again, Alistair."

"Of course, Your Gr-"

"Olga." She stated, interrupting the knight. "I would like you to call me Olga from now on. All of your ancestors had done so, and I'd like for you to do the same."

Alistair paused for a moment, then nodded. "As you wish… Olga."

The way he said her name sent shivers up her spine. It reminded her so very much of how Alberich once said it.

"Then, I shall excuse myself. I will be right across the hall, so do tell me if you require anything." Alistair said, leaving the cell and locking it behind him. He leaned against the wall opposite the cell, letting his head droop from fatigue.

The imprisoned women shared a look. "Alistair, surely you do not plan on standing there all night?" Olga asked.

"This is the most optimal position for standing vigil. I can quickly react to any and all approaches like this." He smiled beneath his helm. "Do not worry about me, Olga. Please, get some rest."

She gave him a hesitant stare before acquiescing to his request. Nothing more had troubled them that night, and they fell asleep in silence.

-]|[-

Codex Entry: Alberich Aquila

Notable Relations: Husband of Princess Filianore, Childhood friend of Celestine Lucross and Olga Discordia, Father of Alaric Aquila.

Notable Titles: The Elf-Lover

Alberich was abandoned in the Elven lands as a babe, and was adopted by the High Elven King Oberon Lucross. He was raised among the elves, befriending the future queens Celestine Lucross and Olga Discordia. When the human tribes began to form their kingdoms, Alberich was groomed to be an emissary for human-elven relations.

When one of the human kingdoms declared war on the Elven Kingdom, Alberich entered military service. The lone human among elves quickly rose through the ranks, becoming one of their best fighters and became key to their victory against the hostile human nations. When the hostilities ceased, Alberich was granted knighthood and established House Aquila.

He was wed to Princess Filianore, establishing an alliance between the elves and the human kingdom of Astora, lived a peaceful life thereafter. After his son Alaric was born, he swore him and all future firstborn sons to the service of his friend Celestine. Alberich passed away at the age of 101, living long enough to see his friends reach adolescence.

-]|[-

Hey there guys, how's it going?

So, I've been getting a few questions in regards to Alistair's armor. Specifically, what it looks like. Short answer, Goblin Slayer's body armor if it was historically accurate, with the Knight's Helm from Dark Souls 3.

Also, the story image? It's Sir Vilhelm from Dark Souls 3, and was drawn by shimhaq98 on deviantart. They have more amazing drawings of other Dark Souls characters if you wanna check them out.

No translations needed this time XD.