Even when night descended, Leyndell was still awash with golden light.
Gundrik used to find such things comforting, a long time ago. When he had been a Leyndell Knight, it felt like the glow of the Erdtree gave him power, hope, faith. When that all faded as he became Tarnished, and sent across the sea, he grew used to being without its presence. The dark of the night was often a chill, but quiet, companion.
In the end, Gundrik barely slept at all, and he had no clue as to how Marika was fairing. A god she remained, and yet he did not miss the cracked scars that still crisscrossed through her fair skin. Even if she was fully 'repaired', it was clear to Gundrik, and perhaps to Marika herself, that she would be marked for the rest of her days. Proof of what she had done, and how she had been mended.
Finding no place to rest, and not wanting to disturb the Queen within her chambers, Gundrik set off to procure as many supplies as he could from the ruined city. Leyndell was still buried under several dozen meters of ash, and Gundrik doubted that would change. Only good, strong manpower would be able to clear it, and while no doubt his and Marika's combined powers were great, it was better spent elsewhere for the time being. Even if they wasted their time restoring Leyndell, there would be nothing to defend but a smattering of broken buildings and corpses. The citizenry was gone. Most of the Leyndell army was gone. Their only hope for reconstruction lay in Limgrave and Liurnia.
Raya Lucaria. I am not eager to see you again. And I doubt he is either.
Without the Roundtable Hold to travel to, and with the Sites of Grace he had become all too familiar with vanishing from the face of the land, Gundrik had to resort to doing things the old-fashioned way. Under cover of night he found them, hidden away and sequestered within the ruined walls of Leyndell. Partly out of conceit, and partly out of a vain hope did he leave weapons and armor within small alcoves, tucked away where none could find him. Without the guidance of grace and all the boons that bestowed upon him, his old skills learned during his time in the Badlands served him well.
With sunrise but a few hours away, Gundrik brandished one of his many prizes. The Golden Order Greatsword, wielded by Radagon himself. He hadn't seen the weapon used before; but then again, he had been exiled just before Radagon became the Second Elden Lord and abandoned Queen Rennala. Looking upon it, he found himself growing slightly uneasy – it did not feel as if he was holding a weapon of metal. Indeed, it felt as if he was holding nothing at all. Were it not for his sure grip, he wouldn't believe that the greatsword was even there.
"Well," Gundrik rasped to himself, holding the greatsword against his shoulder. "Hopefully you will appreciate this, my lady. If not, I could always find a stick for you to smack people with."
When the sun rose above, Gundrik stood outside Queen Marika's chambers, greatsword slung across his back and Bolt of Gransax leaning against the wall beside him.
"I feel like Ensha," Gundrik mumbled to nobody in particular, bobbing his head up and down. "All that poor bastard did was lean against that wall and stare at me with those hollow eyes of his. Gideon, you old lecher, what were you thinking, taking someone like that under your employ?"
Rustling came from within the chambers, and Gundrik quickly silenced himself. Leaning his head back until the click of his helmet hitting the wall stopped him.
Moments later, Marika exited the chambers. She wore slightly heavier robes than before, though that did not mean they were not ornate – they were embroidered with gold along the edges, and even her simple garments looked to be of fine material.
"Didst thou find what thee were looking for, amongst the bones of Leyndell?" Marika asked, turning to Gundrik. Even her crown shined in the light. "I had expected your presence within my chambers when thy toils were over."
Gundrik blinked. "You… were expecting me?"
Marika scoffed, holding up a hand as if in disgust. "Didst thou think I would leave thee to sleep within the ash? Thou art not borne of ash, and to ash thou shalt not return."
"This is going to take some getting used to. I can tell," Gundrik groused, lightly tapping against the side of his helmet before shoving himself away from the wall. "I will keep that in mind once we return. Being honest, I never even saw myself becoming Elden Lord."
"Thou art not entitled to me, but of thine mind and body I care a great deal. Thou art my lord, forevermore. Never forget."
Gundrik sighed. "So you have said. Or something similar, I think. We will have plenty of time to get to know each other on the road to Limgrave, I'm sure. We'll need to pass through Liurnia, just so you know."
Marika's eyes narrowed. "I am aware."
"I can't find a good way to say this, so I suppose I will just come out with it. We are going to come across people out there, the remnants of Leyndell's army – or the remnant of a remnant. And beyond that, we have Liurnia's battered and magical troops, too."
"Make thy point known, Lord Gundrik."
"If we don't have troops, then it'll just be the two of us. Three of us if you count Lord Radagon," Gundrik said, trying desperately not to trip over his own words.
"I do not. And he is a lord no longer."
"Whatever the case may be, you no longer have your hammer, and a weapon is better than none, and so I retrieved this from one of the caches I had within the walls of Leyndell," Gundrik finally said, pulling out the Golden Order Greatsword. "I thought this might suit you well."
Marika's golden eyes widened at seeing the greatsword, with her hands balling into fists. A moment later, her eyes twitched.
"Lord Gundrik," she began, her voice quavering. "Thy well-meaning gesture shalt be thine doom."
"Huh?"
Marika's hand lunged forward, and in an instant, he did not see her golden hair or eyes any longer, or the slender yet strong form that hid beneath her thin robes. Instead, he saw the blazing eyes of Radagon, along with his long, crimson locks flowing in the wind. He wrested the sword away from Gundrik, and then kicked forward.
Gundrik felt the wind flow out of his body as he was sent over the railing, barely managing to grab the Bolt by his side before plummeting toward the ashen ground below. Upon impact, a cloud of ash flew into the air, obscuring his vision for a moment. He sputtered and coughed as he brought himself to his feet.
Without a word, he heard Radagon fall just behind him. Gundrik turned his head to behold the Second Elden Lord in all his glory. No longer was he the shattered god he fought within the ruined chamber within the Erdtree – he faced Radagon with all his might and nerve. He shared Marika's pale complexion, but his shoulders were far broader, and sinewy muscles flexed beneath the robe he wore. Even with the transformation, the cracked scars from the mending were still branded on his skin.
And of course, the Golden Order Greatsword, his signature weapon, glowed with a golden light that nearly outshined the Erdtree behind him.
"Right. Give them their weapon back, Gundrik, a wonderful decision. And with no chance of coming back…" Gundrik mumbled to himself as he heard Radagon approach. "Fine, then. Are you ready for round two, Radagon!?"
Not waiting for a reply, Gundrik stabbed the Bolt of Gransax into the air, red lightning coating it in its entirety before he twisted his body around and shot it forward like a javelin. It struck Radagon in the shoulder, causing the god to snarl before he swung his sword in turn, sending a wave of light forward that would have cleaved Gundrik in twain had he not rolled to the side.
"It doesn't have to be this way," Gundrik said, standing up to his full height. Even then, he still only reached Radagon's shoulders. "The Greater Will is gone. I'm Elden Lord. I won. I set you free!"
"Our freedom was forfeit long ago," Radagon's lips curled back in a disgusted snarl as he stabbed forward with his sword.
Even with his reflexes, the blow from Radagon nearly took his shoulder off, Gathering red lightning within his left hand, he swung downward with the glaive it created, sending a wave of it through the ash. While it did not damage the god in a meaningful way, it ensured that he was stunned for a moment, allowing Gundrik to gain distance.
Gundrik didn't want to kill Radagon, though. Not after he spent what felt like centuries helping bring them back. It may have been hubris, but he had beaten him before, and he would do it again if it came down to that.
"Killing me won't bring the Greater Will back!" Gundrik shouted as the dust cleared. Radagon barely had a scratch on him, and his light greatsword was raised, poised to strike. "It won't bring back anything! You're risking the last hope for the lands. Don't do it."
Gundrik braced himself for another strike from the redheaded half of Marika, but no such blow came. Radagon's emblazoned stare still looked murderous, yet despite that, he relaxed his stance, though his sword was still at the ready.
"Our children, slaughtered," Radagon stated, "The Greater Will availed itself of us.All because of you. Because of Marika's machinations. My other self is a snake, venomous and deceitful. This could have been avoided."
"I'm not saying you're wrong. I am not saying that. But throwing yourself against me until either you or I die, is not going to solve this. Despite what she's done, she has the right idea. Maybe one day these lands will bloom anew with life and happiness. But fighting like this won't do that," Gundrik said, hoping above all else that Radagon listened.
After a final few moments, Radagon's gaze fell down, before he closed them completely.
"Then let it be so, Last Elden Lord," Radagon murmured, looking up again. "Should we fail, know that before the end, I shall be there, waiting for you."
"I know someone who's waiting for you, too," Gundrik replied, "does the name 'Rennala' ring any bells?"
Radagon sneered as his visage faded. Within moments, Marika's feminine features shined through, golden eyes looking forward beneath her crown. Long red hair turned blonde again as she let out a breath.
"I know not how thee calmed Radagon's temper. 'Tis a mystery as to how he functions. Loyalty toward the Greater Will, and nothing more. And yet, he wouldst scoff at the label of 'hound'!" Marika said, shaking her head.
"Bit emotional, isn't he?" Gundrik commented.
"Indeed. Thou hast laid him low once. I hast no doubt you wouldst do so again, should the fighting have gone further. A fickle beast, he is. I am gladdened to see that thou art unharmed."
Gundrik dusted his armor off, though it was in vain. "Just a bit scuffed up, but nothing I haven't experienced before."
"No doubt. Thou hast fought demigods and god alike. But let us not tarry here much longer. We wilt have time to palaver on the road; there remains much of these lands to travel through," Marika said, turning to her left and looking upon the remains of Leyndell. "I admit, it is… distressing, to see my city, our home, reduced to this state."
"Well, we won't be here for very long," Gundrik shrugged, walking past her. "Oh, and before we leave Altus altogether, there's someone I want to talk to…"
"Uh, mate, I ain't sayin' you can't bring friends with you, but…"
Gundrik looked up from the piece of shellfish in his hands, his helmet off to the side. "Something wrong?"
It was hard to tell what Boggart was thinking while he wore that mask. Fitting, really, considering he was a prisoner once. He was to the side of his boiling pot, looking past Gundrik at the fractured woman nearby, staring at him with golden eyes and looking like the spitting image of the statues within the churches.
"Look, I ain't the pryin' type. You done right by me and I don't like to question people 'bout their pasts. But that woman over there is lookin' a lot like Queen Marika herself."
"This prisoner is wonderfully astute." Marika stated, crossing her arms. "Do not pay me mind. Thou shouldst take thy comforts where ye can. Know, however, that I grow tired of this."
"Two more minutes," Gundrik replied, holding up to fingers as he looked behind his back. "Two more minutes and we'll leave. I haven't had crab in long enough. Don't deny me this."
"This fool," Boggart grunted out, looking up to the walls of Leyndell. "I saw the goddamn Erdtree burnin' like a candle, then out you come days later with… that really is Marika ain't it?"
"Or, perhaps I am merely a product of thy delusions?" Marika suggested, holding her arms up. "Shalt I bequeath unto you your ultimate destiny, prisoner? Or mayhaps you require a guide to return thee to thine gaol?"
"I would say ignore her, but that sounds like a bad idea," Gundrik said, slurping up the last of the shellfish. "Anyways, yes, I am Elden Lord now."
"So, right now, I'm talking to a lord, and the god of these accursed lands herself?" Boggart said, his voice even.
"Yes," Gundrik confirmed.
"Mate, if my head wasn't in this helmet, you would see my expression as I shit myself," Boggart replied, covering the single eyehole in his mask. "There… anything you wanted to tell me, before I go and run for the nearest cesspit?"
"Go to Limgrave," Gundrik replied, standing up while he grabbed his helmet. "That's where we'll be gathering what's left of civilization. From there, well, do what you want. I don't know what your crime was, and I honestly don't care. I'd rather someone like you be alive than dead."
"Thy mask denotes thee as a thief. Shouldst my new lord's trust be misplaced, thy hand shall be severed," Marika claimed.
"Okay, do not listen to that. You've always done right by me, so I trust you on that front," Gundrik said. "Hopefully I'll see you in Stormveil Castle. If not, then it was good to know you, Boggart."
"You're about the closest thing I've had to a good friend since Liurnia," Boggart snorted, relaxing as Gundrik retreated. "Fine. Fine! I'll go, at some point. Not much left around here anyway."
Gundrik let out a breath as he walked past Marika, who quickly followed.
"Was this necessary? Fellows ye may have been, this 'Boggart' wears the shackles of a prisoner still. What couldst be gained from this detour?" Marika asked, her golden eyes feeling as if they were boring a hole into the back of Gundrik's head.
"Need to keep the few friends I have left in this world," Gundrik replied. "Besides, a little crab in me always gets me motivated."
"Thou art a strange man," Marika remarked.
"Well, thank goodness for that, because if I wasn't, I never would have made it this far!"
Though the destruction and burial of much of Leyndell did not extend to a great deal of the Altus Plateau, it was still as ruined as when Gundrik first set foot upon its yellow-green plains. The ruined camps of Leyndell troops still littered the plateau, with many of the soldiers still remaining wandering as aimlessly as ever.
When Gundrik and Marika stood at the entrance to Leyndell's outermost wall, Marika stood still and looked upon the ruination before her.
"Not pretty, is it?" Gundrik rasped. "This is what the Shattering was. Far as I can tell, bunch of demigods assaulted Leyndell, before they made to invade Mt. Gelmir. It did not go well."
"I always knew there wouldst be infighting," Marika said, her voice quieter than before. "There wouldst be blood and steel and gnashing teeth. I had hoped one wouldst do what needed to be done, but mine hopes for my children were proven to be in vain."
"Morgott, Last King of Leyndell," Gundrik supplied, "I don't have all the details, but General Radahn laid siege, trying to become Elden Lord, but was rebuffed. Then Godrick tried and got his own beating. There wasn't any hope for anyone. Not until I came around, I suppose."
"To think, one of the Omens, a people deemed cursed, wouldst prove to be as loyal and zealous as mine other half," Marika whispered.
"He was one of your sons," Gundrik pointed out.
"So he was, and yet, not a one of us showed him affection. To what end didst he think his loyalty wouldst achieve? A reprieve from his curse? In truth, 'tis not a curse, Lord Gundrik. A blessing, from the Crucible of Life," Marika explained. "They art born stronger, primeval beings, and I had no choice; to the depths we sent them."
Gundrik raised a brow, but decided not to press. He looked down the stone steps that lead further to the dirt road out of Altus. Beyond that, the Dectus Lift laid, ready for use. It would be easier than traveling through the entirety of the ruin-strewed precipice he had gone through on his first run.
"Let us away, then," Marika stated, "before I find myself turning to melancholy again."
Much as Gundrik wished he could use Torrent, he didn't want to leave Marika to run behind him. Besides, the poor steed deserved a rest after such a long journey. Of course, there was a method to his madness; it would leave more time for talk, more time to unravel everything.
What makes you tick?
That's right I'm on a writing train and I don't intend to STOP-!
Ahem. Anyway, yeah just some more talking and setting shit up for the future. Like I said, this fic will be shorter than my usual affair, but it'll still be the size of a decent novel, I imagine. Writing Gundrik and Marika has been an absolute joy, in case ya can't tell lmao. Obviously, this interpretation of her is probably one of the best morally, and even then she's committed some immensely heinous acts whether or not she was influenced by the Greater Will.
Ah well, let's see where this takes us, shall we?
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See you guys next time!