Woah, long time no update:/ I know I said I would update my others fics first but frankly I'm finding that I have both writers block and lack of motivation as of right now. I'll get back to my IS fics and other ZNT fics later on but forcing myself to write will just end up screwing me later one when I include something I'll regret and then I'll have to either delete the chapter or retcon it out.
Now I know the big thing some want to ask is 'are you going to use Dark Souls II lore?' My answer to that would be yes...for the most part. Mostly because the sequel outright contradicts parts of the original game. The most blatant being that apparently the Old Dragonslayer is Ornstein, despite the fact that you can get both his ring and his SOUL after you defeat him. Nashandra's a touchier case but I'll do my best to merge both worlds. Maybe I can even put DS II bosses later on:p We'll see where it goes.
Oh and the title pic was the best estimate I could find as an estimate for Raziel. I tried looking for pics of Julio the bastard is always smiling, smirking and generally looking smarmy so I couldn't use any of his photos. Thankfully I found a close enough photo and the expression is perfect: He looks neutral but if one looks at his expression he could be seen to be smiling.
Alright so without further ado let us go back to Twisted Reflections.
"Figured it out, have you? I want to thank you for taking care of my great-granddaughter. Who knows, maybe we'll be family once this is all said and done."
Raziel felt a chill run through him as Chester's words processed in his mind, "You are..." He opened his mouth, willing himself to finish his sentence, but no words escaped his lips. No...no, this was impossible. There was absolutely possibility of what he was implying. The Carim aristocrat was cruel,selfish, too easy to let others die and kill them himself if he ever fancied.
He thought back to Siesta. She showed him kindness when he first came here, offering him assistance and becoming his friend with no ulterior motive. The guilt from nearly killing her resurfaced and mixed with the bile rising from his stomach. He didn't believe it, couldn't believe it. She couldn't have been related to the callous noble who feigned happiness when talking of the demise of others.
"The look on your face says it all," Chester chuckled, tracing a finger through one of his rose knives, "But yes, I gave in to the baser need of wanting companionship. I came to this land injured and in need of aid and one of the villagers was kind enough to help me," From beneath his mask he smiled, "She was innocent. She insisted on helping me when many others would have left me to die. I felt...gratitude, if you could call it that. In Carim I would have been stripped of everything I possessed and dumped down a canal. I was...refreshing."
"I know what Carim is like," Raziel snapped. Truthfully he didn't but he could make a good estimate considering it was where both Chester and Lautrec had come from, "I care little for your lies."
"Lies? Now what reason would I have to lie about this?" The taller male actually sounded as if he had been offended by the Undead's accusation," He pressed the rose knife against Raziel's neck lightly, "I would appreciate it if you not make light of my connection with my family. Whatever you may think of Carim we place importance in our family and we don't send them to their death like in Thorolund."
"Undead cannot reproduce," He pushed the blade off roughly. The aristocrat was really pushing his luck, "Whatever your...desires may have been," His face contorted in distaste briefly before he pushed it down, "They are none of my concern. What I know is that Undead cannot produce children. You are lying," How could a corpse create life long after their own life had left them? All Undead had the potential to kill well enough, but anything beyond that was a dream at best.
Chester stared at him blankly, suddenly silent. Raziel began to reach for his dagger before he heard it: Laughter, "Ahahahahahaha," Raziel twitched as the laughter deepened, muffled only slightly by the mask, "Raziel, you may have changed since your burning but I see that there are some things that never change regardless of the time that passed.
His next words sent another chill through him.
"Who ever said I was Undead?"
Raziel's eyes widened slightly and he found himself stunned into silence again. It was true...he had never exactly questioned Chester on whether he was alive or Undead; he had always assumed that the aristocrat was an Undead considering his location. If he was alive why did not stay in Carim? He was obviously a noble so he would have been well taken care of assuming someone didn't poison his drink in some kind of power grab.
The Undead looked down, the realization fully coming to him. Chester knew Siesta and it was his summon sign in front of the grave. The grave's epithet only added more proof and Siesta had told him that there was no body to mourn since he had never come back from one of his 'adventures'. The more he thought about it the more it seemed unlikely that Chester was lying.
His hands shook, the left convulsing with darkness and the right with bursts of fire. Chester chuckled once again and grabbed Raziel's chin, forcing the shorter male to face him, "Ah ah ah, calm yourself. You don't want to burn the whole field down now, do you?" He gestured to his right hand, which was already covering in a thin sheet of fire. Raziel frowned and willed himself to calm down. Much as he hated him the damned aristocrat had a point. Starting a fight here would solve nothing and he wanted to avoid conflict right now.
As soon as both light and dark disappeared Raziel pushed him off, his expression turning into another glare. Chester feigned annoyance, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly although Raziel could still hear him chuckling under his breath. Gods above he wanted to kill him. It had been years since he had been at the kiln but Chester was still the same arrogant backstabber as he once was.
"What are you doing here?" Raziel asked again.
"You were the one who summoned me. When one summons is it not customary that they fight together?" Chester answered back with obvious amusement. Raziel rolled his eyes; he could never imagine fighting with the Carimian. Knowing him he would use his crossbow to shoot him in the back and steal his things before running away. He'd already attempted it, after all.
"Answer my question," Raziel pressed.
"I already answered, did I not? Time is-"
He didn't get to finish. Raziel grabbed him by the neck and pushed him against the tree painfully. With his other hand he grabbed the flinlock and pressed it below Chester's chin; one pull of the trigger and his face would have two new holes in them, "Do you think I jest? If you do not answer my question I will kill you where you stand. At least then they will have a body to bury."
"You gained a sense of humor, I see," He knew he was imagining it but he could have swore the grin on the mask widened, "If you want to be honest then I find your threat to be of little value. Do you think I fear death? It is something you live with every day in Carim. You could be poisoned, assassinated, killed in an 'accident' or suddenly catch disease. Truthfully I find this rather refreshing. It reminds me of home."
Raziel growled in annoyance. To any who heard him speak they might have mistaken the aristocrat's words for bravado or fake courage, but he knew that he was telling the truth. He didn't fear death and none of the threats he made to him would change that. His anger rising, Raziel pressed the gun harder against Chester's chin, though Chester simply shook his head in seeming disapproval at the action.
With a frustrated growl Raziel released his hold on the Carimian and threw him against the grave. Chester's back slammed against the tombstone and he grimaced slightly as he felt a dull ache down his back, "That wasn't very pleasant," He pointed out, his voice slightly hoarse from the pressure against his neck. Raziel threw him a flat stare before he sat down with his back against the tree. He suddenly felt exhausted.
"I'm surprised you didn't kill me regardless," Chester intoned. Raziel ignored him, "I'm sure this must all come as a shock to you, but I do hope that you will remain close to my great-granddaughter. She reminds me so much of Adalyn. It was a shame that she died before I could come back. I would have preferred saying goodbye at least once.
"Shut up," Raziel answered back. Chester let out a singular laugh at the response.
"My presence might come as a surprise to you, but it's no reason to act in that manner. As I recall we parted amicably. Why, one could say we could count as friends considering the normal parting of ways in Lordran and Carim."
Amicably? No as he recalled it he was a fool who didn't shove a crossbow bolt down Chester's throat when he had the chance. He fingered the dagger's handle as he stared at Chester's neck. It would've been simple to do so now; even in his weakened state he would likely have no trouble killing him now. He wasn't an Undead, which meant age would have slowed him down by this point.
A voice at the back of his mind asked why Chester was still alive. Owing no offense to Siesta's father but the man already looked to be nearing the twilight years of his adulthood, and yet Chester, ostensibly his grandfather, was still alive. It made little sense.
"How are you still alive?" Raziel questioned.
"You'd be surprised what Humanity can do for one's longevity," He answered vaguely. Raziel narrowed his eyes at the implications of what he had said, "But that's not what you want to know," Chester tipped his hat unnecessarily, "You want to know why I'm here and not in Oolacile, isn't that right?"
"Among other things," He answered warily, "I would also like to know how exactly you know so much. You were trapped here, cut off from the events in Lordran. Your knowledge of the events that transpired is...disconcerting."
"Believe it or not, you are not as unsung as you believe you are" Chester informed him. Raziel gave him a questioning glance, "Did you think no one would know of what happened in the kiln?" He chuckled again, softly this time, "You might believe that your sacrifice was in vain but it did stem the tide of the abyss...at least for a while," He fiddled with his crossbow slightly, "What happened after you left...well, that's in the hands of history...and Nashandra."
At the utterance of the name Raziel pain engulf his chest, "Argh," His face contorted in pain as his skin seemed to...lurch at the sound of the name. He placed against where his heart should have been as the skin moved abnormally, as if something was trying to get out. He didn't get a chance to comprehend what was happening before the pain disappeared completely and his skin stopped moving.
"Recognize the name, do you?" Chester shook his head either in sympathy or amusement; probably the latter, "I must say I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet. How many other Undead did you kill? Did you never wonder why none of them came back? Or did you simply assume that dying to you once meant that they had lost all hope and Hollowed? As long as they had Humanity they could keep going and yet they never came back. Curious, isn't it?"
"Not really," Raziel replied in a clipped tone. In all honesty he did at times wonder why Lautrec never came back: He wasn't Hollow when he fought him and he certainly seemed to have a clear goal to strive for in appeasing his Goddess. And yet he had found his body at the end of the great hall, carrying everything he had to his name. At the time he hadn't questioned it, caring only that he could revive Anastacia from death, but it was always at the back of his mind.
"What is it that you know?"
"Oh, I think you'll find out soon enough," Chester smiled from underneath his mask, "As much as this land tries to mask it, it's closer to Lordran than it would like to believe," He leaned against the grave casually, "Corruption, monsters, greed, war, ambition - All of these things are here. I thought I had escaped all that, first in Oolacile and now here. But it seems that it will thrive so long as humans are around. It's both a blessing and a curse."
"I am not interested in discussing rhetoric, Chester," He bit back venomously, "You've made it clear that you have no intention of explaining what you are hiding so I will ask another question: How do you know so much? How did you arrive at this place?"
"Those are two questions," He pointed out, much to Raziel's growing annoyance, "But I suppose I can answer. To answer your first question, I'll repeat what I said before - Your actions aren't as unsung as you think they are," He held up a finger, "Of course none of them mention you by name - it's doubtful that anyone even knows that you have one - but they all refer to you."
"The successor of Gwyn, Light's Savior, Messiah, Lightbringer. All of these names, yet they all mean the same thing - The one Undead brave or foolish enough to sacrifice himself to the kiln," Raziel grunted to show his annoyance, although he found it hard to disagree with Chester's description of his action as 'foolish'. If he could go back in time he would have killed himself, painlessly if possible but if not he would endure it so long as he died and likely Hollowed. At least then he would have
Although that of course meant he would never end up here. He had a hard time determining if the years of pain in the kiln was worth the relatively normal life he had here. Despite the fact that he had been beaten within an inch of his unlife many times here it had to be said that he hadn't died as of yet and barring the Count the influence of Lordran seemed to be minimal. If he could get rid of his debilitating dreams then this could come close as a relatively normal life for any Undead.
"Ah, but of course not all agree," Chester clicked his tongue in mock disapproval, "You've also received a lot...unflattering monikers: Traitor to mankind, Pariah, The God's Sycophant, Gwyn's bootlicker," He chuckled at the blank gaze Raziel gave him, "Again they all referred to the same person - The Undead who sacrificed himself to stem the tide of the abyss. You were praised and hated, all in equal measure...or at least, I'm assuming you were."
"...Assuming?"
"Yes, dreadfully I was not there to bear witness to the events themselves," He tapped the side of his head, "All my knowledge come from books or journals I found in this land. It is surprising. A lot of the words often contradicting one another, some calling you a heroic figure who saved all he could while others referred to you as a selfish monster that wanted the God's power for himself," He shrugged, "Perhaps you were all of these things; time in Lordran is distorted, after all. It's quite possible that you were a monster or did things differently."
"I care little for how others from that cesspool refer to me," Raziel scoffed, "You say that you found these books here? I am not surprised. I found a noble who had found Seath's notes. How he acquired them is not known to me, but as you say this land and Lordran seem to be connected in some way. I can only assume that the books were either taken here or summoned as I was."
"Perhaps," He answered vaguely, "As to your second question, the answer to that is simple: We were taken here without realizing what exactly had happened," He sneered, "I must admit it was a surprise. There I was in the abyss taking the spoils that you had left behind for the sake of Princess Dusk and not long after I find myself surrounded by mountains unknown to me."
Something Chester said intrigued him, "We?"
"Hmm? Yes, I was not alone when I was taken here," Raziel's eyebrows quirked up curiously, "The giant, the grieving assassin, Princess Dusk and that wrinkled old mushroom. I saw them briefly before we were separated, but I recognized their forms well enough," He stood up from the grave and rolled his shoulders, "Everyone left in Oolacile must have been taken, which means myself and the other four. I don't know what became of them. It's likely we weren't even placed in the same time as them. So the appropriate question in this case would be asking when they are, not where.
"That is...impossible," Raziel shook his head, "I...saw Princess Dusk's dead body...near the Darkroot Basin. Ciaran's as well, in front of Artorias' grave. I had spoken to Elizabeth after helping Princess Dusk. And Ghough was still at his tower before I had left. None of them were taken," He insisted, although for some reason he was unsure.
"Maybe to you they were, but one must remember that time does not flow in a singular direction both in Lordran and Oolacile. To you we may have never left, but how can you be so sure that you simply kept meeting us at a point in time before we were taken?"
"But-"
"Are you referring to the bodies you claimed to see?" Chester interrupted, "How can you be so sure that those bodies were theirs? Because they had equipment on them? Clothing?" He shook his head, "Artorias' death was hardly hidden and he had many admirers and friends, many of which were other Lordsblades. Are you telling me you recognized that assassin's corpse despite the decay?"
"..."
"And Princess Dusk? If you think she's the only one with a dress then I must be mistaken in the assumption that the years in the kiln had made you less naive," He placed a hand on his neck. The pain from the choking was almost gone, "Unless you kill them yourself then never assume that they are dead. I've read of your fight against Dragonslayer Ornstein and Execution Smough, but how are you so sure that they were both there? One of them could have been an illusion, maybe both of them were. There were rumors that the Dragonslayer had gone to Drangleic, after all, so it can be hard to determine truth from illusion."
"You're saying the illusion of that princess was being guarded by another illusion?" Raziel asked, although he couldn't help but feel it was possible given everything that had happened. It sounded absurd but at this point anything was possible.
"Perhaps," Another vague answer, "In the end we can't determine anything. Perhaps they died here and whatever force pulled us here dumped their bodies back at a point in time where you could find them again," He shrugged, "Or perhaps it wasn't their body you had seen. With Lordran it can be hard to determine. The God's had abandoned it save for a select few, and still it holds power we could not hope to comprehend."
He opened his mouth to argue before shutting it again. He had killed Havel in the tower, he knew in his gut that it was him, and yet he had found his one-of-a-kind-armor and weapon in his secret room, which would have been impossible if he had been wearing it at the time. The more he thought about it the less sense it began to make. Had he gone back to a point in time and stolen his armor before he was imprisoned? If so Havel would not have been wearing anything in the tower.
"Argh," He rubbed his forehead in frustration. He hated thinking about Lordran's convoluted flow of time. Still, what Chester had told him gave him some small amount of hope. He wasn't alone here, it wasn't simply books that had been taken with him. If he could find Ghough, Princess Dusk and Elizabeth he could...well, what could he do? Find a way back? He held no interest in that pursuit. Perhaps...he simply wanted to find someone who could understand his situation, preferably without any venom or blades like Ciaran would no doubt give him.
"It's best if you don't think about it," Chester opined, "Now, I wasn't sure of who you were at first, that's why I attacked you in front of my grave, but it's fortunate that you summoned me here. I wasn't sure how long I had left and whether I could make it back here on time before my life finally ends."
"Ends?"
Chester didn't answer with words, but with action. He raised a hand up and pulled off his mask slowly.
"You are..." Raziel stepped back, his eyes trying to comprehend what was under the mask. It wasn't a demented demon or a smiling trickster, but a man. An old man, face wrinkled with age and eyes that were nearly white as if he was blind. The Undead could see no trace of madness as he had expected, but rather fatigue and acceptance of the coming end.
"Why are you so surprised?" The young sounding voice didn't match the wizened appearance, "I told you before that I was not an Undead," He rubbed his chin slowly, "Humanity can only do so much to lengthen our lives. I've lived long, longer than most others. You call your Undeath a curse, but many would gladly take the risks if it meant immortality. To never have to worry about death catching up to you or your body breaking down with age."
"You crave Undeath? Perhaps I should kill you and see if fate chooses to bring you back," Raziel answered back, the shock already dissipating.
"Ahahaha, no, I believe death will be a relief after all this," He opened his arms wide, likely in a gesture referring to the world, "Besides, I don't think you should be talking about Undeath so casually. You've changed in a lot of ways, Raziel."
"What do you-"
With reflexes one didn't expect from an old man Chester grabbed one of his rose knives and threw it at Raziel's direction. The Undead had no time to dodge, though even if he could have it would have proven unnecessary as the knife went past him, only grazing his cheek slightly. From the shallow cut blood started to pour in light dribbles, the crimson liquid falling down his right cheek and falling to his tunic.
"Blood, for one thing," Chester smiled. Raziel found it even more unnerving than the grin of his mask, "Undead aren't supposed to bleed. In rare cases they may leak out Estus liquid, or in the case of fresh Undead the blood that they had left as they died," He eyed the falling crimson curiously, "That blood is fresh, not yet tainted by disease or infection. Did you not wonder where it came from?"
"It matters little," He wiped away the blood messily with the sleeve of his tunic, "You've already made it clear you will not divulge what you know and I have no more desire to humor your questions. Do what it is you came here to do and leave, lest I place my blade through your neck."
The smile on his face never waned despite the threat. Regardless Chester stepped away from the glaring Undead and walked towards another grave. Contrasting the Carimian's grave the tombstone was obviously taken care of and Raziel could see work had been done to maintain. Apart from that the fresh flowers dotting the front and top of it made it clear that it was still being looked after up to now.
"Adalyn always was well-loved by the village," He turned to Raziel and beckoned him to come closer. Against his better judgement he followed, although he did make sure not to stay too close to Chester, "She was part of the reason I left. I wanted her to live longer, as I do right now. Humanity alone cannot accomplish this so I had hoped to find a way to extend her life," He shook his head, "I always did want for things even when I should have been content. I suppose it's something I inherited from my own father."
"You left her to die alone, then," Raziel stated bluntly.
"I suppose," Chester smirked, "I never was fit to be a good husband. I always left for days at time, either to continue my research or to explore this new land. Many of the other villagers urged her to leave me, claiming that I had simply been with her for pleasure and nothing else. There was a certain truth to their words, but I had grown fond of her. She was so much different from everyone."
"I am not interested in your life story, Chester," Raziel closed his eyes briefly and turned away as Chester placed one of his rose knives against the stone. He would have to remember to throw it out later lest one of the kids picked it up and injured themselves. Knowing him he had poisoned the blade.
"When I had come back she'd already been dead for two years," Chester continued, oblivious or uncaring to Raziel's statement, "Still, I continued my experiments. Gallia has such an abundance of scholars, all willing to break any rule society or their holy book listed in order to get results. Sometimes I watched, other times I killed them and took their results for my own. Whichever was more convenient"
"Some things never change," Raziel echoed.
"Especially names," Chester agreed, "I assume you are familiar with the name 'Earl Arstor'?"
"The creator of the bite rings and the purging stones," Raziel answered immediately. The memory came back to him not long after Fouquet's attack. At Chester's smile his eyes widened briefly before his lips curled into a frown, "What then? Judging by your expression you are going to tell me that you are either a close friend of Earl Arstor or Earl Arstor himself."
"The latter, though I must say your lack of surprise is disappointing to see."
"I already know what you are capable of, so it does not surprise me," He pinched the bridge of his nose, "I suppose I should have understood sooner. It takes a certain kind of monster to bind the souls of people into rings and stones, barely aware but still suffering from their fate. Did you relish in their screams, I wonder? Did you take children from innocent families for your tests?"
"You call me a monster, but tell me this: The rings were effective were they not? Or are you going to tell me you never used them?" Raziel pursed his lips and said nothing, "Judgement should be reserved for those who do not partake in the sin," He commented, "And to answer your question, I used prisoners sentenced to die. Their life was forfeit and even if they had turned Undead they would have been taken either to the Asylum or killed again and again until they turned Hollow. At least this way they were useful."
"Death is different from torture," Raziel replied bitterly, though he knew there was no arguing the point. It was done and he had used both the rings and the stones extensively during his own journey, so judging Chester - or Earl Arstor - for his methods would have been hypocritical of him.
"If you believe so strongly that I must suffer for my actions then kill me," His voice held no hint of mirth. Raziel turned back and saw Chester walking away before stopping, "My time here is short. You summoned me from my sign and time is running out. I don't know what happens if the person summoned is killed by the summoner, but you can try. My life is at an end regardless and even if I don't die my remaining time is limited. I might make my way here, or I might find an inn to spend my last days. Regardless, it's your choice now."
Raziel's hands shook in anger. Even after all this time, after all the suffering he had caused, there wasn't a single trace of guilt left in him. He grabbed the flintlock again and aimed it at the back of Chester's head. From this distance he couldn't miss. One pull of the trigger and there was a chance, even a small one, that the Carimian would finally die. His finger went for the trigger and he pushed.
A single gunshot pierced through Tarbes.
How did she get into this situation?
Louise racked her mind, trying to remember how exactly she had gotten from helping the princess change to hiding in a cupboard doing her best not to be seen.
Alright, it was...not too long ago, actually. Queen Marianne and Cardinal Mazarin had summoned for Henrietta to help her in reciting her oath or some other thing she wasn't told about. With nothing else to do she had elected to go back to her room until she had caught sight of something that she couldn't ignore: Big sis Daphne and Big sis Amethyst walking - although it looked closer to limping - into the halls that led to the dungeons.
She had gotten curious. What were they doing here? She didn't know they worked at the palace. Thinking back on it she didn't exactly know what they did when they didn't visit her parents. She didn't let it bother her much. She always assumed that they were court ladies or minor nobles of some kind, especially considering their connection to her parents.
"I hope you have an explanation for your prolonged absence," Renault looked at the two tired Vampires without even a hint of sympathy. Such creatures were beyond the grace of God and he had no idea why they had even been allowed to live this long. He knew of their charm magic, but he managed to keep himself focused. He felt the urge to offer kindness to them but he held in the desire with hatred and disgust.
Brimir damn it all, why didn't she mind her own business!? Eleanore often told her 'Curiosity killed the Familiar', which was likely due to the fact that her Familiar had gotten curious and killed itself when it challenged her mother's Familiar in order to gauge its strength. It was for that reason that she decided not to summon another Familiar, lest it end up as food for the manticore again.
"We had to walk back to Tristain on foot," Amethyst answered, her normally calm and sweet voice dripping with fatigue and annoyance, "We followed our orders to the letter. We took no blood and we didn't our powers, which meant the trip back would take substantially longer."
When she had arrived at one of the later rooms she had seen no one. Disheartened she had thought of going back to her room before footsteps and voices started nearing her direction. She probably could have explained that she had gotten lost, but instinct had taken over and she in the cupboard before she could be seen. She didn't want to let a misunderstanding force her from the palace.
And that was how she had come to be stuck in this predicament.
"That does not explain the length of your absence," Renault cut in.
"Our horses were lost when the inn we were staying at was attacked by mercenaries," She answered, "Likewise our cloaks were damaged in the fighting and couldn't protect us from the sunlight effectively. We had to walk back to Tristain on foot every night in order to make sure we didn't break the limitations placed upon us. That is why it had taken us so long."
"Tch, excuses," He shook his head in disapproval. Amethyst's expression turned angry but a look and a shake of the head from her sister urged her to calm down, "I'm guessing then that neither the thief nor his accomplice were captured?" Of course he already knew the answer to that question. 'Sparrow' had informed him that the task was a success and they now had the Mage thief Fouquet in their pocket.
"That wasn't our fault," It was Daphne who spoke this time, "The information given to us was wrong. The thief wasn't a male-"
"Save your excuses," He interrupted forcefully. Daphne flinched back and looked away. Amethyst's right hand shook with barely suppressed anger, "You are weeks late from your designated return, which would be enough for me to expel you from our protection. I would have forgiven you had you at least completed your objective, but it appears even that proved impossible for you. It seems people overestimate the power of a Vampire-"
A sudden clamor of noise from the cupboard behind him interrupted his rant. Eyes narrowing, Renault turned back and stared suspiciously at the brown storage compartment. What in the void was that?
Louise should have been worried about being exposed, but her mind was too bust processing what she'd just heard. He'd called the two of them...Vampires. Creatures that were only slightly below the Elves for how monstrous they were. The legends about them were many, ranging from their cruelty and views of humans as animals to the power they held.
'Big sis Daphne and Big sis Amethyst are...are...' She couldn't finish her thought. It was impossible. She remembered them, she had nothing but fond memories of them. They used to play with her when she was a child, they were close friends with Big sis Catt when she herself was young. And...and...
And they hadn't changed at all.
Everything clicked into place. She had simply assumed that they aged well, but if she thought about it they should have already been in their thirties if her memories were accurate. And yet, even up to now they looked the same as they did when she was a child. She wanted to believe that he was lying, that it was just an insult, but calling someone a vampire for a simple insult made absolutely no sense.
Renault stepped forward and made to open the door. Daphne looked up and, for a split second, she saw a pink iris look back at her through the crack in the cupboard. Her eyes widened and she immediately called out, "W-Wait!" She all but yelled, grabbing onto Renault's arm in order to pull him back. The noble's eyes widened and his lips curled in disgust before he forcefully shook of the Vampire.
Daphne stumbled back and fell against the wall. It didn't hurt, especially not due to their stronger bodies, but their weakened states and the lack of feeding made it harder for her to stand.
"Talk only when you are spoken to, Vampire," He raised a hand and brought down against her cheek forcefully. Again it didn't hurt and it was a small price to pay if her hunch was correct, but her sister had other ideas.
"Don't touch my sister!" Amethyst yelled and, baring her fangs, grabbed the taller male and pushed him against the wall. Her mind screamed at her, telling her to let him go. As aberrants they were predisposed to not harm humans to the point that their body would often resist unless they were in danger (and sometimes not even then). She had an easier time than her sister suppressing the 'disability' considering her treatment under Eustace but she couldn't remove it completely.
"Let me go," Despite the situation he showed no signs of panic "If you so much as harm a hair on my head the protection we're gracefully extending to you will be revoked. Now let go you God-forsaken aberrant."
Amethyst was tempted to drain him dry right there, revoked protection and aberrant nature be damned, but once again Daphne's hand pulling her back gently encouraged her to release him. She normally wasn't one for killing or draining until death, but they had suffered two weeks of hunger and his constant blaming of them despite their best efforts was beginning to grate on her.
"I see you still have some sense left in you," He flinched slightly from the pain in his neck, "I will inform Richmond of your failure. But know that you are both on your last chance - If you fail another mission or show insubordination once more then consider your connection to Tristain revoked and to be once again hunted by animals. You have been warned."
Neither of them said anything as he roughly walked past them, muttering curses under his breath. It was a high risk to pay, but it was worth it; in all the commotion he had forgotten all about the noisy cupboard. As soon as she was sure that he was gone she called out to the cupboard hesitantly.
"Louise...is that you? ...You can come out now..."
Amethyst looked at her sister as if she was speaking nonsense before the door of the wooden storage opened slowly. Immediately her confusion turned to shock as she saw the small pinkette stepping out of the cupboard slowly, her arms wrapped around herself as she shivered. Daphne could make out the panic and ragged breaths the younger girl took.
"Louise...how long were you there?" Amethyst asked worriedly.
"Mmmph..." She couldn't answer.
"Louise, look at me," Daphne requested. She shook her head quickly and shivered more, but Daphne cupped her chin and forced her to look up, "Louise, please, I want you to trust me, trust us," She nodded at Amethyst, "I...I know this wasn't how we wanted for you to find out, but if there's anything you need to ask then please don't hesitate. Please trust us that we have no plans to hurt you."
"H-How were you going to tell me?" She finally managed to ask.
"When you reached twenty years of age, same as Cattleya and Eleanor," Big sis Catt and Honored sister Eleanor knew as well!? Then that meant...her parents must have known. She couldn't for the life of her imagine this being hidden from either her mother or her father...especially not her mother. It was often rumored that the heavy wind had the eyes of a hawk and could make out falsehood from a mile off.
"So-So I was the only one who didn't know?" She said.
"We made a promise with Karin not to say anything to any of you till of you were twenty years of age," Amethyst answered. So her mother did know..."She told us that we had to wait until you had at least graduated from school if nothing else. We're...sorry for lying to you, but please understand that we would have told you if we could have."
So it was undeniable: They were both Vampires. Louise closed her eyes and pressed her hands against them. She didn't know what she wanted to do. Cry in fear? Bluster in anger that everyone knew but her? Run away in terror for fear of her being bled dry?
'Don't be ridiculous,' She chided herself, 'If they wanted to kill you they would have done it by now,' And even ignoring that the fact that her parents knew and still let them interact with them showed a certain amount of trust, and if nothing else earning the trust of both her parents had to be proof of their honesty and good intentions.
Still, something was bothering her, "That man...he called Bis sis Amy an...aberrant," The word was unfamiliar to her, "What does it mean?"
"Um, well," Amethyst rubbed the back of her head and sighed, "Aberrants are Vampires that have a unique...condition, if you can call it that," She coughed awkwardly, "It means that unless it was under extenuating circumstances, and sometimes not even then, we can't kill or sometimes even harm humans. We don't know why but it's one of the reasons Karin trusted my sister and why we've been allowed to work here for so long."
"So...it means you don't kill people for blood?"
"We couldn't even if we wanted to," Louise flinched, "N-Not that we want to, of course," Daphne quickly cut in, "So far we've been subsisting on minimal blood or other body fluids whenever possible. So long as we're working here we're not allowed to kill and at most we're allowed to feed on a target in order to knock them out. So please trust us when we say that we mean you no harm."
"I...I trust you..." Louise closed her eyes yet again and she felt her legs wobble as exhaustion finally hit her. Brimir above now she just knew fate was toying with her - First she had summoned a corpse for a Familiar and now two people she had trusted as sisters turned out to be Vampires. What was next, making friends with an Elf? She would be burned at the stake if Romalia found out.
"Hahaha, I can't believe this," She let out an empty laugh. Both sisters looked at her worriedly, "First I summon an Undead as my Familiar and now I find out everyone in my family but me knows the both of you are Vampires. I don't know what's going to happen next but I hope it doesn't involve an Elf.
"Summon an Undead?" Daphne repeated curiously, "Um, Louise, does that mean you're Mr. Raziel's master?" The question sounded bizarre to her. He had assumed that the older male who had given them the wands was his master. She couldn't imagine little Louise being the master of the flame throwing shell. Speaking of which they had never given him back their wands.
"I am, but you wouldn't think of it given how he usually acts," She snorted, "Always disobeys me and keeps things from me. By Helheim I'm not even sure why I was shocked about finding out you two are Vampires. Raziel told me about some mysterious land and about...about Gods he claims to have killed," She laughed again, "By Brimir, I'm becoming a heretic."
The twin Vampires stared at one another, the same thought passing through their mind. Creating Undead was only possible from using pure water magic, and even then they were mostly empty shells. There were exceptions like Noir but even then the process to imbuing life to someone like her was complicated and very much unethical. Louise talked about summoning, and she had little reason to lie about it.
Which meant she had summoned an Undead through 'natural' means. The implications of that were...troubling.
Daphne tried to take a step towards Louise before she found her vision beginning to swim, "Sister..." Amethyst moved to support her, but she could tell she was also weak. They hadn't fed in over two weeks and given what had happened she doubted that bastard would allow them to feed on anyone. They would have to stomach it until their next mission.
"Wh-What's wrong?" Louise asked nervously.
"We haven't fed in a couple of weeks," Amethyst explained weakly, "We're going to have to wait till our next mission before we can feed again," She gave Louise a reassuring smile, "It's alright, nothing to worry about."
An idea popped into the pinkette's mind and she uttered the words before she realized what she had done, "Wh-Wh-Why don't you feed on me, then?" Both sisters looked at her in surprise, but she continued, "I-I-I heard before that Vampires don't h-h-have to feed on b-blood, s-so..." She let the sentence hand. What in the void was she doing!? It went against all common sense.
...And yet, she couldn't bear to see them in pain, even after finding out about their vampirism. Perhaps she'd been spending too much time with Raziel and she stopped caring about race altogether.
"Are...Are you sure, Louise?"
"O-O-Of course I am!" It was glaringly obvious that she wasn't, "B-But just to be sure, y-y-you're not going to drain any b-b-b-blood from me, right? Wh-What else can you feed on?" By the Void she was nervous, but she had to do this.
"W-Well..."Daphne's cheeked tinged red, which Louise didn't take for a good sign, "The closest thing to blood we can subsist on is sweat. You'll be fatigued, but I assure you that you won't be injured. Is...Is that alright?"
At Daphne's explanation Louise found herself calming considerably. So all she had to do was sweat? No problem she just had to run around a room or stretch in place and that wouldn't cost her anything beyond a moments exhaustion.
"Alright, let's do it."
She had no idea what she had gotten herself into.
When Chester heard the shot he had expected pain, or at the very least a feeling of emptiness at the back of his skull. When he had invaded Raziel long ago in Oolacile he still felt pain when he had been repelled, which only compounded his feelings of annoyance at the loss. So given Raziel's attack he had expected excruciating pain to engulf his head.
And yet he felt...nothing. The shot had been fired, the bullet had left the gun, and yet there was nothing to indicate that he had been attacked.
He had missed.
Raziel's eyes focused at where the gun had been aimed. He had aimed for Chester's head, and yet at the last second his hand turned away, hitting nothing but air, "Why..." He looked down at the gun hatefully and tossed it hard against the tree, leaving a sizable dent in the wood. Why? Why had he not hit? Why did he not aim correctly? Chester was an unrepentant monster and no one would mourn his loss.
Was it because of shared kinship? Had he really sought understanding from someone else so much that he would spare a man who felt no regret at his actions? Was it out of a deluded desire not to have Siesta hate him in the slim chance she ever found out? He knew how to shoot, the runes had showed him how even if they could not manipulate his body, and yet he couldn't will himself to end the life of a decrepit old man.
At the back of his mind, he knew another reason: He had no right to judge him. He had used the rings and the stones as well despite knowing full well the consequences for those trapped within. He had ripped Fouquet's Humanity from her painfully like a starving beast. He had killed the guards at the Count's estate whether they may have been innocent or guilty for simply being in his way.
"Judgement should be reserved for those who do not partake in the sin," He repeated Chester's words. Chester was an old man now; even if he was still a threat he didn't have much longer to live. Killing him would prove useless.
"So despite all your hatred and anger you still find it in you to forgive and show mercy? I must admit I'm surprised," No, he was simply being a hypocrite. He had advocated killing all threats before and now he chose to spare a man who had ruined the lives of countless others...as he had done, "I suppose I should thank you. Here, catch."
Two items flew through the air with Raziel barely catching them. He looked down at what he was given and his mouth parted in shock. In his left hand was a green vial, filled to the brim with golden liquid. On his right was a talisman, black as night and tied together in a thin weave. He knew what these things were: An Estus flask and a Velka talisman.
"I managed to make these two in my travels. I had no need for the former, but I always knew I would meet the 'Lightbringer' one day," He chuckled, "The Talisman is one bearing tribute to Velka. I'll assume your faith in the Gods is nonexistent right now but you still seem to have retained your intelligence, so maybe it will be of use to you."
"Why are you giving this to me?" He looked back to Chester and found that he had already fastened the mask back onto his face.
"Why not?" He replied glibly, "Better it fall into the hands of someone who can use it than being sold into a peddler's store after being taken from my dead body. Use it if you wish, throw it away if you don't," He waved a hand nonchalantly, "Either way, it's your decision."
"Wait, I have more questions," Raziel called out, "I know you looted in the abyss after Manus' death but why did you take the staff and the pendant? How did you bind the dragon here into Tarbes," Chester didn't reply, "Answer me!" He yelled, surprised at how loud his voice was. It was all for naught however as he could already see the aristocrat's body fading. The summon sign's time was running out.
"Those are things you'll have to find out on your own," Chester turned to look at him one last time, "But I will give you one last word of advice: Another was buried here. I'm not sure if you knew her, but here grave is over there," He pointed to the left, at a gravestone that looked newer compared to the others, "I wish you luck. You will need it in the coming days."
And then he was gone. Raziel looked down at the items he had received and then to the place Chester had mentioned. The grave was still new, evidenced by the lack of chips and cracks on the stone and the presence of new flowers. But what did he mean by-
He froze as he caught a glimpse of the writing. It was the in the same language as Chester's tombstone.
"Here lies Sieglinde, daughter of Siegmeyer, proud knight of Catarina. Although she never returned to the land of her birth she served proudly as a knight of Catarina till her dying breath."
He felt numb, as if a chill had frozen his body. Vaguely he could recall dropping the talisman and the Estus, but he cared little for that now. He knelt in front of the grave and placed both hands against the top of the stone. He read through it again, willing himself to believe that it was a mistake. Sieglinde had been here, she had survived...and she had died.
"Sieglinde..." Once again tears leaked out of his eyes, hitting against the grass. He and Sieglinde had never been close, and yet seeing her grave brought out of him a profound sense of sadness.
"No...No, this is not right," Sieglinde should have been back in Lordran, in Catarina. How did she get here? It made no sense. His fingers grabbed at the soil atop her grave and he pulled, exposing the muddy earth. No, this wasn't right. Sieglinde was dead and...and whoever this body was it wasn't hers! He could prove it. Ignoring the tears stinging his eyes he grabbed more of the soil and pulled.
He started digging.
Louise had been scarred.
When she had offered to let them feed off her sweat she thought it to be of little complications. Yes it was somewhat disgusting that that they were feeding off her waste fluids but at the very least it was better than her cutting herself in order to feed them blood. If push came to shove she could have Raziel do that; he made it clear he didn't exactly need it.
What she didn't expect was being pushed down onto a bed and being...licked all over as if she was a piece of cake! She breathed in ragged gasps as the fatigue enveloped her. She didn't even move all that much and yet she couldn't stop the feeling of exhaustion and the chill from the saliva just made it more difficult for her to calm down.
To their credit they had offered to let her back out but whether due to their charm magic, their previous relationship or that pout one couldn't say no to she found herself disregarding common sense and allowing them to feed on her. Now here she was wiping herself with a cloth and hastily putting on her clothing in an effort to feel some relief.
"Louise, are you alright?" Daphne touched her shoulder gently and Louise had to greatly resist the urge to throw her off and run from the room while bawling her eyes out. It was her fault - she had agreed to it, especially after Daphne admitted her own mother had done the process before - and at least she knew better next time not to get into things that she would regret.
"I-I'm fine," She sucked in a deep breath and turned to look at Amethyst, "What about you, Big sis Amy? Are you alright?"
"Yes," She nodded, although she did make to cough awkwardly. It was her first time feeding in such a manner. Usually she had subsisted on a few drops of blood from either willing volunteers or their targets. The process was certainly...interesting.
"Louise, thank you again," Daphne smiled and hugged the girl closer to her. Normally it would have been comforting but given recent events she could honestly say she was nervous.
"S-So, the two of you work for Tristain, right?" She needed to change the subject, "Who else knows about this?"
"Apart from your parents, not many," Amethyst replied, "Our inclusion was decided under King Philippe III's command. Cardinal Mazarin is unaware of our dealings as is Princess Henrietta. Queen Marianne knows, but she doesn't involve herself in politics anymore so it matters little. Apart from them the only others who are aware are Sir. Richmond and Sir. Renault."
"So what were you doing in Albion?" She asked.
"We were tracking a thief by the name of Fouquet," Daphne answered, "From what Mr. Raziel has told us you had fought against her before. Due to a mistake in the information we were given we had mistaken Sir. Gramont for the thief and Mr. Raziel to be his associate," Despite herself she couldn't help but laugh at the idea of Guiche being a thief. Subtlety was lost on him.
"And I'm guessing you fought him, right, Big sis Daph?" At Daphne's nod she lot out a frustrated sigh, "I knew that idiot was lying to me. Made a mistake with the room, as if" She grumbled under her breath, "So...how many missions have you all been on?"
"We've been on a lot over the years," Amethyst said, "We could tell you some of them if you'd like. Hopefully it'll make up for the...bad way you had to find out about our 'condition'."
Louise smiled and nodded. Maybe things weren't going to be so bad after all.
The rain poured down in heavy drops as Raziel dug. Ignoring the rain he picked up handfuls of soul and threw them over his shoulders messily. His actions made no logical sense, and yet he couldn't stop. He grabbed another handful before a bolt of lightning lit up the area, startling him slightly. He needed to finish, needed to see for himself whether it was true or not.
It was only after a few more minutes of digging that his fingers began to scratch wood. He let out a cold breath and dug faster, oblivious to how mad his actions made him look.
The coffin was nothing special, being made simply out of graying wood. He looked down at his hands, stained brown by the mud and soil. He was acting irrational, he knew it, but he couldn't just leave it. With shaking hands he grabbed one end of the coffin and pulled.
"No..." The body inside the coffin was different, but not in the way one would expect. Rather than being placed in the ceremonial cloth the body occupying the empty space was covered in a dull silver, its width almost making it impossible to fit in the wooden confines. Despite the decay and the years that had passed the armor looked to be brand new, as if it had been made fresh and polished on the first day.
He didn't have to take off the helm. He knew that she had been here, that Chester had no reason to lie to him, and yet he had dug, hoping beyond all reasonable doubt that he was wrong and that somehow she was still alive somewhere. He saw his reflection in the mirror, the ragged covered by messy hair and the redness of his eyes from the tears.
He was pathetic.
Footsteps in the mud reached his ears. He didn't bother looking up - He had a pretty good idea on who it was and even if it wasn't her he didn't care.
Siesta's eyes widened at the sight, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. Raziel had dug up the grave of Elder Linda with his bare hands and he was...crying? She looked closer and tightened her hold on the extra cloak she carried. She had come here to tell him to get into some shelter and that Undead or no she wouldn't let him stay out in the rain.
But she didn't expect to find...this. She would have been lying to herself if she said that she wasn't afraid, but regardless she found herself drawing closer to him despite his ignoring of her.
Slowly and carefully she threw the cloak over him, covering his head with the hood to the best of her ability. Taking a deep breath she pulled Raziel out of the coffin and forced him to stand.
"Raziel, what's wrong?" She wasn't mistaken. She could see the slight redness in his eyes and despite the rain she could tell he had been crying. But why? She didn't understand.
"She's gone..." All the grief, all the regret he had felt for his lost friends now manifested in full. With every reminder of his friend's death he did his best to suppress any emotions about it or, failing that, turning sadness to something less troublesome like anger or annoyance. His friends were dead, he knew that, but any recollection of them or seeing their bodies were only in memories. Easy enough to ignore given the fractured state of his mind.
But now...now he couldn't ignore it. She was there. Not in his memories, she was here and no amount of ignorance would change that.
Siesta didn't know what was happening, but Raziel was obviously troubled by something and...Undead or no, he was her friend. Swallowing her nervousness she circled her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. She felt him tense at the sudden action, but he made no move to resist and after a moments hesitation he pressed his head against her shoulder and cried.
Neither of them said a word. Tears continued to escape Raziel's eyes despite his best efforts to contain them. He felt sad, angry, as if he wanted to yell out and curse the world for everything that had happened to him and the people around him.
They stayed that way for a while longer, though neither of them knew exactly how long. The only thing Raziel knew was that he was glad he wasn't alone anymore.
Well, angst fest over with:D After this there should be a noticeable lack of angst in the coming chapters and hopefully Raziel will be much more mentally/emotionally stable in the next parts.
Alright, decision time: I had to cut out the other filler segments since I went to long without an update and I'll be busy soon and can't update too big right now So should I add the Colbert/Fouquet/Zombie!Wales filler in the next chapter or do you guys want the battle first and the filler later? Your choice, assuming anyone's still reading this.
And before anyone says anything: No, this does not count as a romance scene/confirmation for Siesta. Friends and family comfort each other in times of grief as well, not just lovers.
Or about Chester not being Undead. Let's be honest here, what proof do you have that he is? He's in Oolacile, not Lordran, and given that he's wearing fine clothes he's likely a noble, which makes it likely he's alive since Undead nobles would probably get stripped of titles and shunted to the Asylum. He's as much an Undead as Elizabeth and Dusk are.
Right, now answer some questions/comments.
Bernard Karp - Nope:P
thefluffyone93 - Anybody else you know that has Pri in their name ;)
Krulla Chief - Depends on what you mean by Hollow.
Guest - The weapons are in his bottomless box that he doesn't have access to. Besides they're not that cool since their stats are mostly mediocre and the specials damage the weapon too much for it to be feasible as repeat usage.
Poliamida - Made it up based on reviewer response. But hell it isn't gonna play much of a role: As Louise says its a spoiled, fat bird with not much in the way of skills.
DemonOfFate - This chapter might or might not answer your question. And no, I think the catchprase is fine.
UrbanPredator76 - Just inspired by and based on LOK. No actual connection.
Ashlands of the Cold - The 'Gods' are only Gods in their land. It's completely possible that in another land they're just weird looking giants. The Great Old One might be God for the Demons Souls people, but for the Dark Souls people it's just Bed of Chaos' bigger brother. And yes, he likes older women, but it's not meant to be taken seriously.
Belomor - Trying to cut down on them.
AnubisGundam0 - Not everything has to be connected to Dark Souls man. Like I said, it was a joke and made for cheap laughs with it occasionally being a running gag later on. Also, while I agree with you that she's using her body to curry favors, it's pretty likely she already slept with people before. I mean LOOK at what she tried to do to Saito in canon! No way you can excuse that as teasing only. The only reason she didn't go through with it was because she kept getting interrupted.
XcelltasticX - Whoo, long review! Anyway, to answer some things - The reason I chose her and not Quelana is because Quelana is SANE while 'Sheffield' was mad with obsession of protecting her mother/remaining sisters. That transferred over to Joseph right quick. Also, Raziel might be storing blood but he doesn't use it. Think of him as a refilling blood bag: Draining the blood doesn't affect the bag in any way and the same logic applies to Raziel. Technically this means he can be blood drained with impunity but he's not exactly a fan of getting liquids siphoned out.
Also, as stated before, purity does not equal good. The Joker is pure insanity, Shelob from Lord of the Rings is specifically stated to be incorruptible due to being made of pure instinct and hunger. Given the flashbacks it should be obvious purity doesn't have a positive connotation for him. Oh, and the crush on Marianne thing isn't supposed to show maturity, but IMmaturity: He crushes on her based on looks alone, which isn't mature at all. He knows nothing about her personality and if he did he'd probably dislike her since she acts almost exactly like Gwynevere - Leaving the throne because of spouse issues.
Guest - Trying, but writers block has hit.
Dark Infinity - Huh, didn't notice that:) Now one of my pet dreams has come true.
Luciz - We'll see where the story goes.
Okiro Benihime - Again, you like many others overestimate the CU. Does he use a lot of weapons? Yes. Does he use them with any trained skill? Balls no. Look in youtube for 'Dark Souls Combat Is it Realistic?' and you'll see what I mean. He specifically mentions that the CU does a lot of beginner mistakes and leaves himself open, especially with the spear and the greatswords. Can I pick up weapons and wield them efficiently? No. Can I pick up weapons and swing like a noob and win because I can die and memorize patterns? Yes.
Remember, Raziel was based on the average player. While it is possible to do an SL 1 playthrough it's not very practical in-universe and storywise to do so. Why would he go around naked with a lightning club? To us it's a game but to him it isn't and he's not gonna screw around when Hollowing is a threat to him. It's completely possible for an untrained civie to beat a trained army officer. Possible, but possibility does not mean it's gonna happen.
Suzululu4moe - What sentence? Also, I try to keep yaoi and yuri hints to a minimum. Most ship tease moments are meant to look awkward.
Yasulong - One thing: Are bonfire keepers Undead? Nothing ever says they are and the three we meet seem very much alive, if horribly disfigured. Hell the fact that you can bring them back to life shows difference to Undead that need a bonfire.
Also, it was answered before that bonfire keepers' bonfires are special in some way compared to the generic bonfires.