Well here comes the second full flashback chapter; second one of its type since 'The Wraith' chapter. As with before this chapter will be shorter than the previous stories and will be of questionable quality due to the greater liberties in the canon regarding Lordran. Also like before this chapter might be re-written or taken down depending on people's reactions to it.
Alright lets start.
Manus looked down at the wide caverns, his empty eyes narrowing as he stared at the molten fire running through the stone. Despite his deadened senses he could feel the intense heat of the lava, causing his rotted skin to uncomfortably constrict. Given the state of his body it was of little surprise that he couldn't sweat anymore but the warmth engulfing his senses caused no small amount of discomfort despite it all.
He remembered this place. Memories of unknown origin came back to him the longer he continued on this mad quest for...for what, exactly? At first he thought he would try to gather answers, but seeing the now blind dragon caused him no curiosity but only a rising sense of bubbling anger. He had wanted the dragon to suffer, to toil uselessly and be crushed by the realization that no matter how much he researched, how many people he sacrificed he would never get the scales he wanted for his coveted immortality.
Of course that would also mean innocents would continue to be used by him and given his desperation it was of little doubt that his attempts would become more and more depraved as his desperation and frustration built up over the years. He flexed what remained of his mouth as he tightened his grip against the wall. He had gone out of his way to ensure that the prisoners would get the chance to escape but in the end why had he done it? He was a monster now, an abomination that had come from a dark void. Did he want them to escape so they wouldn't share his fate?
Or did he simply want to deprive the overgrown lizard the satisfaction of succeeding?
An eruption of lava interrupted his contemplation. Sucking in a hollow breath he carefully moved up against the walls using his sharp appendages. Izalith could be described as Anor Londo's opposite. While the domain of Gwyn and his family was raised above so they could look down on their subjects Izalith was created below, beneath the earth and surrounded by the darkness that their fires staved off.
He remembered this city. He remembered walking through the hallowed halls, watching and marveling at the progress they made. Anor Londo was the city of the Gods, glorifying tradition and clinging to the past and their achievements in the war against the dragons. They didn't want to move forward; they wanted to make their moment of triumph last for the eternity and to ensure that everyone remembered. The statues, the grand cathedrals...everything was to ensure that no matter how much time passed everyone would remember Gwyn's moment of triumph.
Izalith was a mecca of progress and, in this twisted land, the closest thing there would be to equality. Gods, Demigods and humans all lived together in the stone confines of the city and worked together to ensure progress. Everything from architecture to literature to even the spells were created from the combined effort of of its citizens. The place existed long before the Dragon war and its rich history and longevity even surpassed that of Anor Londo.
Of course, just because they lived together didn't mean there wouldn't be conflicts.
Quela and her daughters lived apart from the rest, staying in solitude among themselves in the stone citadel and cut off from most of the town's affairs save for occasional appearances. Whereas Gwyn always wanted the final choice in the matters concerning his kingdom Quela often let her 'subjects', if they could even be called that, do what they wished so long as the greater populace didn't suffer for it.
This inevitably lead to problems. Race always was an issue among the denizens of Lordran. Humans worshiped the Gods, that was how it had been ever since they were 'enlightened' after the victory of the great three in the dragon war. To see them live side-by-side with their 'betters' angered many of the demigods and even other humans more fanatically devoted to their creed who considered the practice a 'treachery'.
Despite the frequent conflicts life in Izalith continued as normal and many humans migrated to the underground city as the found Quela's lack of required worship and the protection from Nito's Gravelords to be better despite the continued reprisals from the traditionalists. Manus had to admit that in his memories the city of stone and fire was the closest that come to true progress. There were even rumors of creating a machine that could fly or a machine powered by fire and heat.
It just made the sight of the chaos all the more ironic.
"Quela's hubris has doomed her..." He looked down at the lava and let out an empty sigh. He remembered Izalith as a beautiful city, a shining gem despite the darkness and dirt encapsulating it. Now it was a place of chaos, most of the city proper being cut off from the caverns he resided in due to a large amount of lava and demons. Attempting to cross the lava without proper protection would likely end in agonizing, burning death and he didn't fancy burning 'alive' if he could help it.
And then there were the demons. While they weren't too difficult to take care of individually the lava made it hard to maneuver around them and they tended to attack in groups. His lack of a weapon was already beginning to limit him but he couldn't afford to carry one with him since he had no place it when he had to climb or when doing other physically taxing tasks.
He also remembered the family of this land. Quela, her seven daughters and one son. They had been present at his...execution, though what crimes he had committed he didn't know. But he remembered them, along with a few others that had been there. Seath, who he had already dealt with, along with a monster made out of the skeletal bodies the deceased. The memory came to him not long after he had been placed in the dark city.
He remembered Quela's face as he was dragged to the edge of the pit. She looked at him as if he was a bug about to be crushed under a boot. Was it pity or disgust that she had shown him before he was sent to his eternal agony? He honestly didn't know. Maybe it a mixture of both for the punishment he had been given, to slowly go mad from the pain and darkness as the years passed.
Her offspring were no better. Many of them looked at his impeding doom with curiosity or glee, some with boredom while one of the daughters even offered him a prayer for salvation. The last one was the most damning of all, to pray for him to the Gods who had sentenced him to his torment. He let loose a feral growl at the memory. He didn't know what he wanted anymore, but he was sure that he wanted her and her entire family to suffer as he had suffered.
Maybe it wasn't fair, but after the torment his body and mind he had been forced to undergo he found himself caring little of their possible innocence. Quela and her family were important and and they wouldn't have been there if they had nothing to do with his damnation. For whatever reason they had been involved and whatever that involvement may have been they would pay for it in kind.
"Brother, come this way," He focused his hearing at the sudden voice, "We must heal your sores before the ritual begins anew,' It was a woman's voice, and he already had an inkling on who it was. According to his benefactor Izalith had fallen not too long ago to demons and those who hadn't evacuated the city had long since passed.
That left only one group - or rather one family - who would willingly stay behind in the city of the damned.
"Y-Yes sister..." Compared to the confident voice of the woman, the male's voice was meek and trembled with fear, "Do-Do the others not need you to keep the Flame contained? We should-"
"We need to focus on treating you first," The woman's voice was comforting and warm, "You're in pain now, I can see that. The ring's power is enough to stop the pain from your sores but it is not strong enough to prevent more from growing due to the Flame's growing instability. We need to heal you first and then I'll head back. A lecture from mother is worth it if your suffering lessens even for a bit."
Ah, now he was sure. As he rounded the corner of the cavern he looked down at the two individuals walking towards the altar at the edge. A young man and woman, though calling them siblings would seem ludicrous at first glance. The woman was tall, nearing six feet in height, with pale skin and dark hair that would have made many envious. The robe she wore concealed her entire body but the hood, which was resting on her back rather than atop her head, revealed a face of almost ethereal beauty that many mortals would find difficult to achieve.
By contrast the male was small, almost pathetically so, and constantly shook and looked around nervously as they neared the altar. Though he shared his sibling's pale skin and dark hair his constant shivering and wheezing made it difficult to imagine the two as being of the same blood. People called him the 'Son of Chaos', but despite the intimidating name the person behind the title proved anything but fearsome.
He crawled closer towards them, making sure to keep as quiet as possible. He needed to find out how they had gotten past the lava.
Those blessed with Godly blood were often blessed with otherworldly beauty or exceptional physical attributes. Upon closer inspection the male was suffering from various open sores dotting his neck, though he couldn't make out any more due to the dark robe he wore. Despite this his face could be described as being attractive even through his injuries and fear. It was definitely Quela's blood in their veins.
For all the mentions of daughters and even a son there was never any mention of a son or a 'Father of Chaos', so to say. Quela never kept to a husband, always choosing partners - whether they be Gods or Demigods - for their potential to give her offspring with great potential. He was unsure of what exactly happened to all these partners. Rumors were once circulated that the partners died in the process of intercourse due to being unable to handle the Witch's 'fire' while others still whispered that after one night the males either left in satisfaction or killed themselves with the realization that the Witch of Izalith never truly loved them.
Despite the conflicting statements many who were chosen by Quela never even considered refusal. After all, who would pass up a chance for a joining with a Goddess? It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that there would be many who would willingly sacrifice themselves for one night of pleasure and for their offspring to become one of the immortal daughters of Chaos.
"Do your sores hurt?" The robed witch asked her brother.
"A-A little," He nodded meekly, "B-But the ring is keeping them from spreading, so it's alright."
The son came as a surprise to them all, even to Quela herself. It was generally assumed that The Witch could only give birth to daughters, but on the day of his birth they had extracted a baby boy, crying not from the first glimpses of light in his fragile mind but because of the open sores causing him immense pain and suffering from the moment he was taken from the safety of his mother's womb.
The cause of the child's gender and condition were not known, though the greatest blame was laid at the feet of his parent. Unlike the various sisters the father of the son was a mere human, some wizard of great repute that he knew not the name of. It was her first joining with someone not a God or a Demigod and many blamed the father's side of the blood for not being strong enough to handle the power the Witch had over the flames.
Regardless it mattered little now. Manus stopped and looked down at them. He was right above them. The witch was preparing something in the altar - likely something with the ritual she intended to conduct - while the young man stood a small distance away whimpering and clutching a ring in his left hand as if it could offer him comfort.
Wait...the ring. Manus' eyes narrowed once again as he focused on the small accessory. The circular band was made of dark metal and at its core was an orange jewel. He could feel a great magic emanating from the small circle. It was his way past the lava, he could feel the great protection that had been placed upon it, but to get it he would need to separate it from its owner.
He angled his limbs and prepared to jump. Stealing the ring would easy enough but he couldn't risk either of the two making it back and warning their mother. He had already planned to take revenge on the family and it would be easier assuming the two were separated from the others.
"Brother, the ritual is-" As she turned around to call her brother back something land painfully against her back. She felt a rough hand slam onto the back of her head and smash her it against the altar, "Wha-" Before she could finish voicing out her surprise the bony fingers clutched her head tighter and slammed it down with even greater intensity.
"Sister!" He ran forward and paused as a sudden fear overtook him. He wanted to push forward, to save his sister, but something inside of him was pulling him back The monstrous figure stared at him, its empty eyes daring him to come forward to save his beloved sibling, "Let her go, let her go, monster! Or face the wrath of-"
Whatever threat he was about to make was silenced as he saw his sister's head colliding with the stone altar once again. He nearly vomited as the he saw the golden ichor spill out from her mouth and eyes. His sisters had much stronger bodies compared to most but by the standards of Gods they were still for the most part ordinary flesh and blood. He didn't know how strong the monster was but the injuries on his sister's face were already severe.
He was forced to watch as the monster pressed her face against the altar. He wasn't smashing her into the stone anymore but he had no intention of letting her go; he was letting her bleed out, "Wh-What do you want!?" He cried. Manus stared back at him for a brief second before he pressed his sharpened fingers against her neck. They were sharp enough to tear the skin off her neck.
"I-I'll do anything, just please don't hurt her again!" Manus pressed claw-like tips at her neck and brought them across with deliberate slowness. He could feel the woman struggling underneath him, but he managed to hold her down. The injuries would decrease her strength and without a catalyst she wouldn't
"Please! I'm begging you! If you have any mercy in you just tell me what you want and let her go!" He pleaded once again, tears spilling from his eyes.
"...Mercy?" The voice that came out was unexpected. It sounded normal, not at all matching the deformed visage of his sister's attacker, "I was given none, and now you plead for yours?" He had no idea what it was talking about. He just wanted it to release his sister, "Should I throw her in the lava? Would you prefer that? You always did have an affinity with fire."
"No! Sh-She'll die if you do that!" He clasped his hands together, "Please, I'll do anything! Just...Just release my sister!"
"Anything?" His ironclad hold on her loosened by the tiniest amount, "Then tell me, how did you bypass the lava surrounding the city?" The suffering young man made to open his mouth before Manus interrupted him, "And if you lie to me then your sister will be the one to pay the price. So choose your next words carefully, lest you want your sister's head to become one with this altar."
"I...I..." He swallowed nervously and tried in vain to suppress his fear. He had wanted to tell the monster a lie of being able to use a spell in order to give him protection, but it's threat caused the words to die in his throat. He knew very well that his sister's could cast spells in order to defend themselves from the overwhelming heat but he would never allow her to cast a spell on him. After what he had done she would burn him alive till there was nothing left but ash.
"M-My sister can cast a protective spell-"
"I do not trust her to cast it," Manus interrupted. He had already guessed that they could cast protection spells on themselves and others but to rely on that would mean trusting someone he ultimately intended to kill and who he had already attacked to protect him, "Hope that you have another method or your sister's last moments will be one of unbearable agony."
He already had a hunch on what he needed to pass, but he needed to be sure.
"W-Wait! Th-Th-There is one other thing!" He pleaded, "I-I-I have a r-ring, if you wear it you can-"
"No!" The injured witch suddenly yelled, surprising them both, "Do not remove the ring, brother! Run back to mother and- Agh!" She let out a pained shriek as Manus' fingers clawed against her eye. She felt a stinging agony for the briefest of moments before the vision in her left eye went dark.
"Quiet, or the next one will pierce your heart," Manus whispered to her, "You spoke of a ring," He turned back to the young man, "This ring will allow me to traverse the lava without dying?"
"Y-Yes," He nodded nervously and fingered the circular band in his left hand, "This ring was enchanted to protect against the lava and so long as you wear it you can pass through it with little difficulty."
"Give it to me, then," Manus held out his free hand, "But do not come near me. Drop the ring and back away."
"P-Promise me that you will release my sister!"
"Don't!" The witch once again raised an objection before Manus smashed her head against the pillar once again. He smelled her blood and grimaced slightly. The golden blood of the Gods and Demigods smelled different from that of humans and the snake-men. Not unpleasant, but much different compared to the overpowering scent of iron for humans or rot for the snake-men.
"...I promise that she will not suffer from me," Manus answered slowly.
He took one last look at his struggling sister before he nodded and, with shaking fingers, removed the ring from his left hand, "Mmph!" Immediately as he dropped the ring he felt the sores all over his body burn as the protective charm left him, "A-Ahhh..." He raised both hands and muffled his mouth and struggled to step back as the pain overrode his senses.
Manus stepped forward warily, dragging the daughter of Chaos with his right hand and kneeling down to pickup the ring, "The protective wards are strong," He mumbled to himself. Even with the slightest touch he could feel a warmth engulf him; it was pleasant, unlike the heat that emanated from the lava, "The charm is imperfect, but it will serve my purpose well enough."
"Y-Yes, it will protect you from the lava," He nodded nervously and stepped forward, "N-Now honor your promise and release my sister."
He brought his fingers to her neck and held onto it tightly, "Wh-What are you doing!?" The son stepped forward and made to yell something before the sound of tearing flesh nearly caused him to vomit. Manus ignored the blood pooling around his fingers and pulled, his face expressionless as her golden blood dripped from her torn-open neck.
"Much more fragile than I had assumed," He released her body and watched impassively as the deformed young man made his way towards her, crying unintelligible words he couldn't make out. It was either a plea for her to stay alive or apologies because he blamed himself. The Gods and Demigods always did have a flair for the dramatic, that much he remembered even if his memory was fractured at best.
"Wh-Why!? Why did you- AGHHHHHHH!" Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a sudden torrent of pain. He could feel the lava burning against him, a sensation he hadn't experienced since his first waking memories. It was worse than torture. Not a single inch of his body experienced relief and all that occupied his mind was the blinding pain so strong that it should have killed him.
"I kept my word," He walked towards the writhing male and knelt in front of him" Her death was quick and she did not suffer...though the same could not be said for you," He felt the tiniest spark of pity for the tortured man before it was replaced with a feeling of apathy. He was suffering, same as he had when he was thrown into that damnable abyss, and though a good man would have found his actions appalling he cared little for what they would think of him.
"S-Sister...s-sister...I'm...sorry..." The young man crawled to the body of his dead sibling and cradled her close to him, "I...I'm sorry...if you had stayed with the others...because of me you..."
Manus turned away and placed the ring against the middle finger of his right hand. Normally it wouldn't fit him considering the small stature of its original owner but his skeletal hands fit the circular band easily enough. Before he left to follow the lower path he turned back one last time to the broken young man. Killing him would have been a mercy; it would stop his agony and end his tortured existence.
But mercy was something they had deprived him of, and he would respond in kind.
Bypassing the lava had proven easy enough with the ring's protection. The demons had attempted to chase after him but without the obsidian band's protection they had burned up in the lava not long after following him inside its center. Manus looked back at the high-pitched shrieks of a bull-demon as it flailed around the lava, the fire burning at his skin and clothes.
The scent of its slowly burning body was disgusting. He moved his rotted nose and thanked small virtues that his new form was at least incapable of vomiting. Still, a meal was a meal and with a quick pull of his 'scarf' the demon's body dissipated into nothingness. He should have taken the daughter as well, but something was stopping him from attempting it.
His benefactor had warned him to avoid absorbing them; or rather to avoid absorbing any of the Gods that permeated this forsaken land. He could 'eat' as many humans, monsters, Demigods and giants as he wished but it was, in its own words, 'risky' to attempt the same with those who had Lord Souls and any of their descendants. As it explained he was too weak and doing so would end with his own soul being destroyed and overtaken by theirs.
He didn't understand it, nor did he claim to, but all that mattered was that they had suffered for his execution. Maybe he was a criminal, maybe he as an innocent man, but he cared little for that now. He had lost everything: His memories, his body and any chance of building a normal life. All that he had left was to ensure that they would suffer as he had.
"Hmm..." Manus looked down at the ring in his hand once again. While the wards were no doubt helpful, he was beginning to get wary of keeping it with him. Whatever charm Quela or her daughters imbued upon the item was...adaptable. He watched with muted surprise as what appeared to be a black tendril reached from his palm to wrap around the ring to cover it in a thick layer of darkness.
"The magic runs deep for such a small object," Reluctantly he removed the ring and, with a small grimace, tossed it to the lava. Given the heavy feeling he had been experiencing despite the short time he'd spent with it he doubted he could put it on again even if he needed to, "There must be another passage back," He turned and began walking to the entrance of the vast city. Surely a city renowned for its amazing architecture would have more than one entrance.
His second introduction to Izalith was not as amazing as he had imagined it. Though he supposed it was supposed to be expected: The Izalith in his memories was filled to the brim with people coming from all creeds and walks of life. Samurais and Ninjas from the far east would interact with the merchants from the southern lands while Sorcerers from the esteemed academies consulted with warriors to share experiences among a shared table of drinks.
Quela's rule was not perfect, but it had kept peace when the people gathered. It was only when turning to the darkest corners that one had to be careful with what lied beneath the mask of cooperation the people wore, though he supposed that was the case wherever anyone went. Each domain had something to hide and even the cities of the Gods were no exception.
"Empty..." Manus looked around the desolate buildings, his focus faltering slightly. He'd heard from the voices in the darkness that the entire city had been abandoned not long ago due to the invasion of demons, but he had expected to see stragglers or corpses. At least a single sign that the city had been forcibly evacuated and that there had been battle to retake the city from the so-called devils.
What he found instead was oblivion. The city looked as immaculate as it was in its prime, but there wasn't a single soul or body to be found. The buildings and the stands were empty, but the food and various other items they once sold still lay in their places as if it was a normal day. There was no hint of disrepair in the buildings and not a single body - whether demon or otherwise - could be seen regardless of where he looked.
It was as if Izalith had been preserved in time.
Something wasn't right. A city this large that had been attacked by demons with their citizens running away in terror to escape shouldn't look as if it hadn't been affected at all. Curious, he walked over to a fruit stall and picked up one of the apples piled on top, "...An illusion," He could immediately tell. The apple smelled rotten and it was too soft in his hands.
He picked up another fruit, a peach this time, and met with the same results. The fruit was rotten and the illusion would not hold the second someone had actually touched them or tried to smell them.
"An illusion has been cast," He muttered. But why? What was the point? There was no one here to impress, no one to trick. Izalith's downfall was made public and the other Gods had forsaken them, so why would anyone go through the trouble when no one was expected to be fooled? Adding to that casting an illusion spell of such a grand scale would no doubt require a significant amount of power. Who could afford to waste such things on smoke and mirrors?
Soft footsteps from behind caused him to duck into one of the nearby buildings. Given the general state of Izalith and its lack of inhabitants it came as little surprise to him when he found two robed women walking side-by-side, their hooded robes making them indistinguishable from one another. More Daughters of Chaos, no doubt named with extensions of their mother's name. Pride was a trait none of the higher beings could never get enough of.
"I am merely suggesting that we cannot stay here forever," The voice was rough, though unmistakably feminine all the same. The tone of voice she held indicated fatigue, "Mother insists that we stay here in order to keep the city from collapsing, but look around us. There is nothing here and despite her reassurances none of the other Gods have come to our aid. We have been abandoned."
"Have faith, Quelaag," The voice of the one that replied was softer, though it also contained the same sense of fatigue, "Mother assures us that the trials troubling us will pass and she has never led us astray before. Her instructions are for us to remain the in the town.
"Forgive me, Quelaan, but I may for once in my life that mother may be wrong-"
"Quelaag!" 'Quelaan' interrupted with a sharp hiss, "I know these are trying times but we must not lose faith in mother or the rest of our siblings. Was it not her recreation of the first flame that allowed us to live prosperously for years? She needs us in this time of need and it would be ungrateful and dishonorable for us to leave mother now when she and the others need us the most."
"Yes, but at what cost?" 'Quelaag' replied, "Our people have abandoned us. Do you see the the emptiness around us? They did not decide to leave us all one day; they left gradually as mother lost more and more control of the flame. And do you not see the pain or only brother experiences every day? The close proximity to the Flame mother created aggravates his condition and even the ring we created for him isn't enough to protect him."
"Mother knows what she's doing..." Quelaan answered, though her voice was noticeably more unsure.
"I am beginning to have my doubts," Quelaag frowned, "Our family is the only one left. Our once great city has been reduced to nothing more than a ruin covered in a thin illusion. Mother wastes precious power and effort to cast this Oolacilian illusion spell, and for what? The others have abandoned us and, if I am to be honest, I think mothers knows this or she has deluded herself otherwise."
"Mother is no deluded madwoman," She defended.
"I do not wish to think so either, but her actions speak for themselves," She let out a sigh, "We waste time here. Every day her control of the Flame weakens and soon enough all our efforts exterminating the demons that slipped past and upholding this solution will have all been for naught. Quelaan, even you must see that she is sending us on a path of destruction."
"Yes, I can see it," She answered bitterly, "But what is it that you wish for us to do, Quelaag? I would rather die than abandon mother and the rest of our family. And even if we do leave, where will we go? We'll be seen as nothing more than failures and cowards who abandoned our responsibilities to their family and to their people. Death would be preferable."
"We would not be the first to shirk responsibilities," She muttered. Quelaan seemed genuinely unaware but she knew better. Her fellow divinity were not as benevolent and just as they liked to claim themselves as. How many times did Gwyn's subjects come to him requesting aid against the Darkwraiths or about their families that had been taken by that maddragon Seath only to be met with halfhearted answers and empty promises.
At least she was willing to be honest about it.
"Consider my words with you, at least," Quelaag continued, "If possible I would rather we convinced mother and the others to leave Izalith and that cursed Flame behind us. Qeulana already has her doubts, so we should speak to her first, although Quelara will be much harder to convince - She seems adamant that we stay here and supports mother's decision to stay. We can speak to the rest of our siblings afterwards."
"...I suppose," Quelaan answered hesitantly, "If the others go with us then-"
"Wait," Quelaag held up a hand and walked towards one of the fruit stalls, "...Something has been here," She picked up the apple Manus discarded and narrowed her eyes.
"Another demon?" Quelaan asked.
"Whatever it may be, it has claws," She picked up the pear next and noted the straight lined that had been torn off at its sides, "Look around, and remember to show no mercy. Regardless of what may have slipped past we cannot afford to let it harm the others."
"Damnation..." Manus whispered as he saw Quelana let the pear fall into the ground: They knew they weren't alone. He could kill one the sisters easily when they were unawares but he didn't wish to risk earning the ire of both at once and put himself at unnecessary risk. At least the son was incapable of combat beyond pathetic threats.
Should he attack them both or head deeper into the building to try and avoid detection? No doubt he would find himself in conflict with them at some point given his end goal so it made more sense to-
His internal debate was cut off as he suddenly felt heat rising from underneath him, "Damnation!" He repeated. Without thinking he leapt forward, just barely avoiding the pillar of fire that rose from where he had been previously standing.
"There it is!" Quelaag screamed. Scrambling forward he ran to the opposite building and slammed the door behind him. Fire sorceries didn't require physical contact or being close to the intended target, but it did require line of sight. With that thought in mind he grabbed the stone table close to him and pushed it against the door forcefully. That would grant him precious few seconds.
"I need to separate them," He looked around the building quickly. Given the pews and altars dotting the sides, it was clear he had run into a small church - Small being a relative term due to the differences in how the Gods defined small and how others defined it. Despite the church being a place of minor worship for the different deities it was quite clearly lavishly designed and wide and open spaces that allowed one to move around.
He also counted small blessings that the entire city was made of stone. He supposed making wooden houses in a city that prided itself in Fire sorcery and surrounded by lava wouldn't be a very good idea.
Pushing and mumbled voices quickly reminded him that he didn't have much time. He made his way to the few solitary torches and, with a quick pull of air, extinguished the fires that ignited them. The room was plunged into darkness, the only light being the occasional red haze of the dim light emanating from outside filtering in through the curtain-covered high windows.
With that done he made his way to one of the darker corners and waited, watching the door as it was slowly forced open more and more. He briefly considered climbing the walls before disregarding it. While it would give him the height advantage that counted very little for Sorcerers and the falling and damaged stone would be a rather big hint on where he had gone.
The door came open with a large boom of fire. Manus clenched his hands and kept still as the two sisters walked inside slowly, their eyes darting all around to try and find the 'demon' that had slipped from their grasp, "Separate..." He mumbled inaudibly. So long as they were at a distance from one another he could take them both out silently with a snap of the neck.
"Quelaan, keep focused," Quelaag reminded her softly, "Whatever this demon is it seems to contain a limited amount of intelligence. Most would have attacked rather than retreated," Her eyes darted to the missing torches, "It also removed and hid the torches. Keep your catalyst close and and prepare to cast at a moments notice. We have not faced a devil like this before."
"Did you see it well, sister?" Quelaan whispered back softly.
"Not clearly, no," She shook her head, "Its body was skeletal, I know that much, so I doubt it will have much physical strength. It is almost certainly the reason it is hiding from us."
"Should we split up and search or stay together?" She hugged the catalyst tighter to herself with one hand while reaching for something else inside her robe with the other.
"Separate and draw it out," Quelaag started walking along the right side, "Once you find it kill it immediately. If you require aid then you know what you must do."
Manus watched the two sisters split up with one going to the right aisle and the other going towards him. Right, they hadn't seen him yet and the 'Quelana' woman was getting closer. All he would have to do was kill her silently.
Quelaag raised her staff and chanted a quick spell, igniting the end of it with a small burst of flame, "The power of the flame being used as a mere torch," She scoffed. More fanatic worshipers of the art would have considered her usage of it disrespectful, but she paid them no heed. In the early days of darkness the fire was their only source of light and she never considered it shameful considering its practical use.
As Quelaan drew closer he moved closer to the wall, hoping that the shadows would be enough to conceal him. Her dark robes and catalyst made her nearly indistinguishable in the tinted darkness and unlike her sister she did not use her catalyst to light her path. Well, it would make things easier for him.
Her footsteps stopped abruptly and she turned to his direction. Her wondered briefly whether she had found him or if he should move before her eyes met his. Could she see in the darkness or-
"I found it!" It was then that he realized that his empty eyes could be seen clearly through the darkness.
Her eyes widened and she raised her catalyst, "Quelaag!" She turned to her sister to warn her before a clawed hand across her face caused her to scream in pain, "Ah!" She raised her catalyst and tried to push him away before another strike stuck her across her stomach. Manus grabbed the front of her robe and tossed her against the nearby wall, earning another cry of pain and cracks in the church's wall.
"Quelaan!" Quleaag raised her staff and chanted, summoning bursts of fire to attack him. Manus turned and charged towards her, "Stand still, monster!" She slammed her catalyst down and covered the gathering hall in a ring of fire. He grabbed the stone pew and tossed it in her direction before he slunk back into the darkness. It wouldn't keep him concealed, he knew that, but he needed to divert their attention.
"Foul demon," She hissed, sidestepping the clumsily thrown bench. The daughter of chaos raised her catalyst again and imparted more of her power into the instrument to illuminate the area, "Quelaan, are you alright?" She asked. She could see her younger sister in the barely lit hall but she couldn't risk leaving herself open.
Quelaan shook of her dizziness and stood up, ignoring the shots of pain that went up her back, "It's eyes...they are visible in the darkness," She warned her older sister.
No sooner had she that did he dart out of the darkness and attack her older sibling. Quelaag just barely missed the swipe aimed at her head before another swipe at her hands forced her to let go of her catalyst.
Manus kicked the catalyst away and swiped at her legs before he retreated back into the shadows. Staying still was not an option - they would see him easily - but so long as he kept moving they wouldn't be able to attack him even if they caught sight of him.
"What form of demonspawn is this?" Quelaag bit her lower lip at the feeling of her golden blood flowing from her ankles. The creature - whatever it may have been - was fast and its clawed hands were strong enough to cut through their flesh easily.
"Quelaan, cast a spell now! It doesn't matter what!" She ordered her sister. Her eyes darted around, trying in vain to find the abyssal creature. At best she could make out two small orbs of white before quickly disappearing as soon as she caught sight of it.
Nodding mutely Quelaan raised her catalyst to cast a spell. As soon as the first words escaped her lips a sudden loud, booming scratch echoed in the dark hall and she found her legs being hit by something heavy.
Manus growled and kicked the pew again, hard enough that it forced Quelana down onto the floor from its weight. Before she could raise up her catalyst against him he tore it from her grasp and threw it against the shadows.
"Quela-" Her call was interrupted as Manus straddled her and began to claw at her face, ignoring her cries of pain. The Undead ignored all logic telling him to run before the other sister caught up to him and continued to attack her, ripping away more of her flesh and destroying the precious robe they so coveted. He wanted her to experience agony, he wanted all of them to taste the pain he had experienced over the course of his damnation.
He was so engrossed that he missed Quelaan's hand grasping for something inside her robe.
"Ahh!" A sudden pain in his left hand caused him to stand away from her and hiss in pain. Quelaan wiped the blood from her face with her wrist as a small smile made its way to her face. Physical weapons were much cruder compared to magic but when an enemy was too close it often meant the difference between life and death.
"Forsaken witch," Manus let out a pained gasp and pulled out the dagger she had stabbed into his hand. The blade was small, but was far from ordinary with the layer of fire coating the blade and the small array of jagged spikes dotting the edge of the hilt.
Even with the blade no longer embedded inside him he could feel a burning pain in the cut from where the wound originated. Closing his eyes briefly he clenched his hand and let loose another inaudible growl. Whatever mad enchantment she had cursed the blade with was strong.
"Away, foul creature!" Quelaag's voice cut into his pained mumbles. He looked up just in time to see her point one of the discarded catalysts at him before a sudden, more intense burning pain engulfed him.
The sound of the explosive fire was overpowering, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of his body being smashed through the wall of the cathedral through the sheer power of the spell. He rolled on the stone road before the wall of the opposite building stopped him with a disgusting squelch. What little skin he had left had been burnt by the flame and he could smell the dead flesh burning.
"Mgh...urk," He gripped the wall and forced himself to stand. The fire wasn't spreading at the very least, but it was of little comfort considering the situation. He was in no condition two fight two Gods head on.
"That is no mere demon," Quelaag's voice reached him. He looked up and saw the older sister of chaos walking slowly towards him with her catalyst raised, her expression murderous. Behind her he could see the younger sister trailing behind her with a noticeable limp.
Manus remained silent and lowered his stance, preparing himself to charge towards them and attack. This was not how he would have wanted it but if this was to be his end then he would perish killing at least one of them. No doubt Quela would be devastated by the news that members of her precious family had been killed in no small part due to her own vanity.
Her next words caused him to pause, "You seem to be intelligent, demon. Tell me, are you willing to listen to reason?" Quelaag's words were firm, her grip on the catalyst never wavering. She had to be ready just in case.
"It is too late for that," Manus answered in a low voice. Quelaag's lips dipped into a frown and she prepared to cast another spell before she felt her sister grabbing onto her sleeve.
"Q-Quelaag..." Quelaan's eyes were wide and her hands shook as she mouthed silent words in quick succession, "He is..." Her grip on her sleeve tightened and her shaking worsened. Quelaag turned back to Manus only to find him just as confused as she was. Chancing an attack she turned back to her sister and forced her to look up.
Manus watched the the shivering witch whisper something to her sister before she backed away with noticeable fear, "It cannot be him," Disbelief flashed across Quelaag's features before she turned back to him, her expression showing a different meaning from before. He could still see the anger and desire to kill him, but there was something else that caused him to hesitate.
Recognition. Her eyes darted from the 'wings' adorning his back to the design of the cloth circled around his missing jaw. Her grip on the catalyst shook and her mouth parted in muted shock. Manus wondered what it was the younger sister had whispered that caused her to hesitate now. Could she truly know who he was even when he himself had lost that knowledge?
A sudden explosion forced them towards the ground before he could consider interrogating them. Manus looked up briefly before another tremor sent him onto his back. From a far off building he could see a pillar of crimson fire rise up to meet the cavern's roof before a feeling of extreme heat covered the city around them. The heat of the fire was stifling and he felt extremely relieved that he didn't need to breath as the hot air assaulted his nostrils with such heat that he likely would have suffocated had he been 'alive'.
The next thing he noticed were the screams. The sisters were screaming, but they were drowned out by the cacophony of shrieks and yells that resounded all over the caverns. They were the cries of demons, as he would find out later. The ungodly wails and howls nearly caused him to claw the rotten skin off his face to try and find anything to distract himself from the screeching.
The two sisters fared no better. Quelaag stood on one knee, both her hands covering her ears as she grit her teeth. She bit her lower lip with enough force to cause them to bleed and she tried in vain to reach her discarded catalyst, which had rolled away from her in the tremors. The piercing shrieks nearly caused her to lose consciousness and she bit harder to keep herself focused.
Quelaan was faring far worse than her elder sibling. She lay against the ground in a fetal position, tears streaming down her face as she did her best to cover her ears and block out the sounds. Whereas her sister was trying to reach her weapon she rocked on the floor back and forth slowly as she mumbled more incoherent words.
"It's happened. Mother has lost control of the flame..." Quelaag muttered, though neither her sister nor Manus could hear her. She knew what the godforsaken cacophony meant: The demons were trying to break free before her mother could regain control of the flame.
The shrieking intensified and all three crashed to the ground in shared pain, their animosity forgotten. Manus let loose an animalistic roar and pounded his injured hand against the stone floor. He needed something, anything to distract him from the wails before he went insane. He pounced harder, the feeling of pain coming from his bones nearly being shattered coming as a relief. It at least distracted him from the demon's cries.
They needed to leave now. Forcing herself to stand up she grabbed onto her sister's hand before she forced her to stand as well, "Quelaan, we need to leave before-"
In the next moment, everything stopped. The screams stopped, the pillar of fire had disappeared and the powerful tremors had come and gone as well, leaving only a sudden silence to cover them all. Quelaag looked around, wondering whether she had been wrong and it was just a temporary burst of power that her mother and the rest of her siblings had managed to contain.
The next explosion proved her wrong. Rather than shooting upwards into another pillar the crimson light passed through them all before engulfing the rest of the lost city. The screams returned, louder and as agonizing as ever. But something was different; rather than the previous tortured cries they were screams of victory and triumph.
Manus felt an ungodly burst of pain all over his body as the 'wave' passed through him before it concentrated on his left hand. He clutched his left hand and screamed, his voices being drowned out by the cries of the demons and the screams of the sister's close to him. What sounded like the shattering of glass reverberated all around them before he found the pain too much and his consciousness left him.
How much time had passed since his forced sleep he did not know.
Manus awoke with a groan and stood up on shaking legs. He looked around warily, his eyes taking immediate notice of the destroyed stands and ruined buildings around him. The illusion had been dispelled and someone, or something, had made its intentions for the city clear. Or rather multiple somethings, if the various misshapen footprints and marks were any indication.
The second thing he noticed were the sisters. Or, at least he assumed them to be the sisters. Their upper bodies were untainted, still holding their Goddess given beauty, but their lower bodies had been changed. Where there were once two human legs there now replaced by what appeared to be demonic spiders glowing with orange flames.
Manus' eyes widened and he stepped back. What had happened to them? He cared little whether they were alive or dead but the perverted fusion was something that could not be done under normal circumstances, that he was at least certain of. Ignoring the pain that flared up his left arm he stepped closer carefully. Did the demons do this? Was this why they had been spared when the demons pass through?
The spider stirred and opened its mouth when it caught sight of him. His gaze twitched from the distorted arachnid's multiple eyes to Quelaag's face. The witch's eyes were still closed and he surmised that it was the only reason that the spider could only snap its jaws at him weakly and unfocused. Killing them now would prove difficult and with the pain and he didn't fancy attacking a hybrid of a Demon and a God.
Somewhat reluctantly he turned away and moved deeper into the city. He doubted it was a mercy to spare them given their condition. They had turned into the very demons that they hated.
A steady rhythm akin to a heartbeat pulsed up his left arm as he moved deeper inward. He had to leave this place, to escape. Quela was no doubt dead already or transformed like her two daughters. She was the one that created that flame and it was she that was controlling it. He doubted the demons would give her much mercy for being the barrier that prevented them from leaving.
The pain in his arm worsened with every stepped. He held onto the pulsing limb and suppressed a cry of pain. Was he being corrupted, like they were? No, it felt different. The orange fire tried to spread across his arm but he could see dark tendrils keeping it from consuming the limb completely.
He ran into a few demons on the way, but in his condition he tried to avoid fighting them. This proved easy enough: The demons paid him no heed, focusing more on the town and rampant chaos, the few that did spot him took barely spared him a glance before disregarding him completely. If he had to guess he would assume that his appearance gave them the impression that he was a demon like the rest of them.
He wandered aimlessly around the city, the rampaging demons all around him. There must have been a way out of here. Surely given the large populace there would be a way to leave the caverns without passing through the lava.
He made another turn into one of the more barren roads devoid of demons. No doubt the demons would soon take over the city completely but any moment of peace was a relief.
"You are a coward, Quelana!" And he might have just found a way out. Manus peeked around the corner road and saw two more women, wearing identical robes similar to the two previous sisters from before. Two more daughters of chaos, but how did they escape the corruption and the demons?
"A coward? Perhaps I am," 'Quelana' scoffed, "But I am not a fool, Quelara. Two of our sisters are trapped by the demon that our mother has become and the rest we have no inkling on where they have gone. They might have left us as well and if not the demons are surely eager to have their way with them now that they are free. Staying here will accomplish nothing and I will leave, without you if need be."
"And so you will run? Abandon your family when they need you most?" 'Quelara' sneered, "You are happy that this happened, are you not? You always wanted to leave, always poisoning the rest of our siblings that mother has lost her mind and that we should abandon here. Is this how you repay her for raising you, for granting you the life of a Daughter of Chaos?"
"Our mother is gone, Quelara. I am willing to see that," She raised her hand and tapped the wall, "This passage will lead us out and will take us to the closest town. Stay if you wish but have no wish to become the victim of demons."
"Go then," Quelara spat, "Leave me and go off on your own, filthy coward," She turned her back to her, "If I ever see you again know that I will kill you with no hesitation. We are no longer family. May the flame consume and burn you, wretched traitor."
Quelana's expression turned to one of sadness and hurt before she walked the opposite direction. She turned to looked back one last time before she decided to leave the wall open. It would close on its own in due time but she hoped...she wished her sister to reconsider and go with her. To not throw her life away protecting her transformed family.
Manus waited until the two had disappeared before he made his way through the opening. The passage was clear and straight save for a few curves and turns. Clutching his wounded arm he trudged forward and wondered what he would do now. He might have found answers here once, but now there was nothing left in this city save a nesting ground for demons.
Although something told him that he would find himself again in the dark void in due time. The voices didn't seem like they wanted their entertainment to stop.
Right, finally finished that one. I'm gonna be saying a few things so lets hurry this up.
First of all there are going to be people that complain about Discharge's size. My only answer to that is that I really doubt he was always 500 feet tall with tentacle spewing out of his back with deformed arms. It's mentioned that he was corrupted by the Chaos flame, same as Quelaag and the Fair Lady. Manus making him drop the ring is also going to get complains but again I highly doubt he literally just dropped it. If he did why didn't he pick it up? Why did it turn into a Centipede demon of all things when no other accessory does this?
Also, the chapter was supposed to be different in the ending. Looking around the data files there's a concept for a better Bed of Chaos fight where the boss had lunging attacks, wall crawling abilities and freaking insectoid wings on its back. Manus was supposed to fight against it and cut off its wings before escaping. Unfortunately given my abhorrent fight scenes I really doubt I could make a fight between a giant, wall crawling/flying Bed of Chaos against Soul Reaver Raziel without making it unintentionally pathetic. You already saw what happened in the Sheffield vs Julio 'fight'.
That and it would be plain suicidal to go into the center of the town when demons are running around. Manus is a vindictive asshole and prone to moronic moments but he's not that stupid. Who knows maybe I'll come back and rewrite it in when I get better at writing fight scenes.
And before anyone asks: No, I'm not portraying Manus as a 'hero', okay? You're not supposed to think he's right. The scene with Discharge should make that clear. So please no one accuse me of justifying pointless cruelty and presenting it as heroic. It's not and not once in the narration is it called heroic or righteous.
Alright, my own questions then: Which fell first - Oolacile or New Londo? ENB and Vaatie place Oolacile as first but if that's the case the covenant ring of Artorias makes no sense. Hell if New Londo fell first then why is it still corrupted? I really doubt Artorias ran away from the Four Kings without massively dishonoring himself.
Also, do you even need a bonfire to level up or just the Firekeeper? You need bonfires in DS 1 but in DS 2 you pray to the Emerald Herald for it. If it's the latter then the level up issue can be fixed but if not then he's not leveling up for a while.
Lastly this will probably be the last full flashback chapter I write. It's difficult to extend and most of the chapter is Manus reminiscing about how awesome Izalith was apart from its blatant racism and whatnot. Next time I'll just combine it with the current timeline chapter and only focus on the juicy bits rather than making it one continuous flow.
Answering time.
Loyaltothelegion - No, it's not Quelana. Quelana's too sane for that stuns Sheffield pulls. Read the chapters again if you wish since I hint who it is and answer it point blank in one of the other questions.
Kizuro Shirosaki - Fixed.
Demons Anarchy - He's not: It's a part of Londo that got transported there. How does this get not that much attention? The same reason the Water Spirit can flood the countryside with no one in the capital knowing and the word not getting around: The nobles around the place don't make reports and there's bigger fish to fry in Albion. The ghosts don't leave the ruins so it's contained anyway.
Sakurada Kiritsugu - Hey, I've been reading you story :D I'll review soon.
CrazyScythe - He didn't hear her; she said it after he closed the door and stronger hearing or not he's not gonna hear a hushed whisper behind a wooden door. And yeah, he might confuse what 'I love you' means. He's probably going to assume she means 'I love you. I'm glad you're my friend', in which case the feeling's very much mutual. He's not familiar with the concept of romantic love. He can understand platonic love just fine, he experienced friendship after all, but romance is something he's in the dark about. At best he can make assumptions or guesswork but he doesn't really understand it.
And by filler I mean it's mostly stage setting or leads up to things people might already know. This chapter's technically filler too.
MuRioDame - Death is hard to incorporate in story since in TR the 'bosses' have no reason to stick around after killing Raziel. Even if he makes his way back there they're likely long gone or they've already won. Death and running back cuts the narrative flow into swiss cheese so it's going to be hard to merge that particular part with Dark Souls.
XCelltasticX - Yes I like the new parapgraphs:) Lets make this short if possible. I love your long reviews but I don't want to pad the AN too much.
The connections between Lordran and Halk will be explained in the next few chapters so lets not spoil it for now ;) On Cromwell he's actually portrayed that way in canon - Very little in this fic is original, sadly:( It's where I got the floor licking scene from. The only thing original about it is the Ghost being a supremacist douche.
On the Guiche scene: This should be explained a bit. Raziel goes out to save the soldiers, but its made rather clear that he personally doesn't care all that much - His narration during the dead bodies is rather off-hand and distant and he makes no effort to comfort the soldier crying beyond 'Shut up I'm carrying you now'. He cares because Augustine and the others care and that's the reason he went out of his way to gather Humanity despite how horrible the method is.
That and while he's worked himself to death doesn't mean he expects everyone else to since he doesn't put everyone on the same standards. Raziel's not wrong for asking Montmorency to work but Guiche isn't for being protective of his fiancee. He cares more later but that's because it's his actions that indirectly killed them with his clumsy miracle work.
I dislike cliches as well, but mixing the two media will lead to it. Though so far I've been avoiding the harem thing as much as I can by making their interactions - barring Siesta's - platonic and awkward. Hell if you're counting interactions he spends the most time with Guiche apart from Louise and Siesta and his interactions with Wales affected him more than any of the girls again barring Siesta. Not planning to turn this into a yaoi but friendship is definitely more the theme than romance. That and the queen thing was kind of meant to be a one-off joke barring a couple mentions. I expected everyone to ignore it and focus more on everything else.
Besides, can you really imagine a memory-fractured Undead to be romantic? He'd probably take the phrase 'Show her your heart' literally and show his partner an actual, beating heart. Before you can get him into romance you might wanna give him the lecture first on the 'birds and the bees' and what happens when two people 'like each other very much'. Empathy is something he has to work on though, like you said; there are times where he shows a startling lack of it like berating Guiche for getting sick at a severed head.
I did discuss gravity and biology with another author from this site but he commented that would be difficult to add. If Raziel was that heavy shouldn't he be damaging the floor every time he walks or collapsing/straining chairs just by sitting on them? He's heavy enough that he sinks like concrete on water, after all. Lets just agree that the strength and endurance are magical in nature and the level up system supports this since you can make your character thin with a strength and endurance of 40 or make your fatass Cleric do ninja flips. He probably sinks because he lacks fluids in his body.
Wardes did NOT brainwash her in canon: That's the shitty anime. He doesn't do it in the LN and the more accurate manga. Louise agreed to the marriage willingly, if reluctantly. Second, he doesn't really care about world domination or Louise. He wants to go to the Holy Land/Elf land and find out what made mommy insane. Reconquista actually says they will unite Halk and attack the Elves, so Wardes is banking on them. Wardes in the first few volumes is a cartoon villain with world domination plans but afterwards he's more balanced to being a pragmatic man who cares little for good or evil and only on achieving his goals. His goal is sympathetic and he's not one-dimensional.
Besides, Raziel's no saint either given his mass murder spree in the Count's hotel. Yes he saved the servants and all but it doesn't change the fact that he came there for Siesta and morality didn't factor into his decisions. If Wardes could get to the Elven land in a legal/moral way he'd probably do it but as of now he's forced to work with crappy alternatives. Does this make him a good guy? Of course not. But he's no mustache twirling villain.
What were you saying before you got interrupted? Also, I'm probably gonna keep replying to you ;) You have the longest and most content-filled reviews and I love stuff like that. Makes it feel like my effort was well worth it.