(Bonus A/N)
Gonna place this here (for those of you who remember, I've removed this thing on the other chapters). If you are going to ask me questions in the reviews as a guest, I will ignore them. If it is some anonymous reviews asking questions, I will ignore them. Sorry but I am tired of guests or people I cannot directly reply to asking me questions and expect me to answer. If you actually have questions just pm me or for Gwyn's sake put your review down in a way so that I can reply to you.
There once was an age of cycles, an age of fire and disparity, an age that seemed never-ending. One day the unseen end finally came, but it did not end as many expected or predicted. Within the desert of ash, the worlds final breath would take place.
(-)
The Ashen One watched as the pigmy lord dragged himself towards Fillionors resting place. His head hanging to his neck by a thread of flesh, his once elegant robes were nothing but filthy rags, and his crown was now useless upon his white hair. Either by sheer will power or by some unknown force, the pygmy managed to push on despite his injuries.
A week and old voice came out of the decrepit pygmy, "Ohh, Filianore, help me, please... The Red Hood is come to eat us. To eat our dark souls..."
Despite the pygmy's effort, he never did reach lady Fillionore. The pygmy reached out with what little strength he had left, and called out one last time in a pathetic and vain call for help, "Filianore, help me, please..." The pygmy then died, finally succumbed to his wounds, his body going limp. The Ashen one could feel their weak soul enter into his body.
The Ashen One said nothing as he witnessed this. There was nothing he could've done or said, not even if he wanted to. He looked towards the trail of blood that came from the pygmy and followed it. He needed to see what had taken place to cause this.
The trail came to an end at what appeared to be once a glorious throne room for some kind of counsel. Many of thrones were nothing but rubble but a few remained, seemingly untouched. Corpses were strung about the ruins as well, all of them appearing to have been pigmy lords and possessing similar injuries as the one before.
The Ashen one heard something, of what he did not know. Never the less he slowly followed the direction he heard the sound. As he walked to the top of a small ashen hill, he saw someone he thought he would never see again.
(-)
Gael had slain the last pigmy lord, the bones in his old bloated body groaning as he bent down to consume their dark soul. At long last he had claimed the last fragment, now the dark soul of man would be complete. At long last, he would provide his lady with what she needed. Soon there would be a never-ending world unaffected by the cycles.
amongst the ocean of voices in his mind, one voice was clear, "So close... to be whole again. Consume it now! "
The voices were his only guide now, his only companion for the many cycles of his crusades to claim the dark soul of man. Most of his memory was long gone now, but one memory was clear. That memory was of why he was doing this, and that was for his lady and the world she would make. He wished he had returned to her long ago, but the pygmies... their useless body's had no blood to paint.
What else was he to do? He needed every scrap for his lady, every fragment so that he may bleed. That was all that mattered, the world could die for all he cared. Both he and voices agreed to this. He had to do this...No, he needed to do this. Gael began to eat through the pigmy's flesh, tearing his way to their dark soul with his bare teeth. He eventually reached to it and could feel it enter him as he consumed it. The voices were pleased as well as they both felt closer to being whole.
Gael still felt...felt...Unfulfilled. But, why? Was there still a piece left? He was sure he rid this world of those greedy fools who kept their dark souls to themselves. He then could sense a familiar presence nearby, the voices confirming what he was thinking. "Another fragment draws near. This must be the last one we need!"
Gael turned his head sharply to the left, seeing a knight that seemed so...familiar to him. To think that someone he might have known was still around. He could hear the voices screaming at him now, agitated at his slight hesitation to consume the knight, "Why must you wait? Take it, take it now, kill them!"
Gael rose from his hunched position and faced the knight, "What, still here?" Gael reached out with his hand, "Hand it over. that thing, your dark soul." Commanded Gael to the knight, but he received no answer, only cold dead silence. Hoping for them to listen to reason, Gael pleaded with them, "For my lady's painting."
Silence and an empty glare were all Gael got from the knight, his hand lowered and clenched into a fist. They wouldn't listen, they were foolish, they did not care for his lady, they did not care for a world beyond the flame's influence. If they wouldn't give what he needed for his lady..." JUST END THEM NOW, DO IT NOW!"... He would then take it from them by force.
He slammed his fist down, charged at the knight with a roar, and threw the dead corpse of the pygmy he had finished consuming. Like a wild beast, Gael came towards the knight on all fours. Before the knight could swing his blade upon Gael, he jumped high above the knight and struck downward, a small bit of humanity seeping out of his blade as he did so. The knight took the blow head-on and ignored whatever pain he felt and struck at Gael. Gael felt the blade pierce through his armour and into his flesh, but he hardly noticed it. After all, he was undead, and such sensations were nulled greatly.
Gael leapt back and once again jumped into the air and swung downward upon the knight, but this time they dodged the attack and struck Gael a few times with his blade. Once again Gael lept back but this time waited for the knight to come to him. When the knight believed that there was an opening, Gael stood straight up and swung a furry of attacks from his blade, almost killing the knight.
Before Gael could make the finishing blow, the knight got up and dodged the last swing of his blade. The Knight then retreated and drank from his Estus flask, healing his injuries. This battle of attrition continued, Gael would land a few several blows but never could finish him off before they drank the Estus flask, and the knight continuing landing blow after blow, slowly but surely weakening Gael.
Gael raised his broken blade but the knight acted faster then Gael, striking his face with their blade and stunning him. He reeled back before his legs gave way, forcing him to fall down his knees and hunched over onto the ground. He looked down on his old blade, the only thing that has been with him since the first cycle. Strange how he did so much with a simple executioner sword. His thoughts were interrupted as he saw...blood drip from his forehead onto the blade.
Gael made a silent gasp as he saw this, "Ahh, is this the blood?" The world went silent as he said this. The sun disappearing, leaving behind a dark void up above. "The blood of the dark soul?"
Humanity seeped out of Gael as he rose, implanting his blade into the ashen ground and leaning upon it to stand up. He looked upon his blade as his memory flooded back to him. Not only did he remember his quest and why he was doing it, but now he could remember everything else and most importantly, that he would not be the one to give his lady the blood. The knight would be the one, for he had the soul of a champion and could give it to her unaffected by the dark.
If the knight was of ash, then he had no doubt that they would slay him and send the pigment to his lady. Gael wanted to laugh, for countless ages he wandered and fought for wars he knew nothing about, but now he has outlived his old masters and won his first and only war of his choosing. Now he no longer had any purpose, no reason to exist anymore. So he let himself go hollow and allowed the mass of humanity to take over.
Gael removed his blade from the desert and stood straight up and held his blade with both of his hands, humanity still seeping out of him. Gael walked towards the knight slowly, pulling out his repeating crossbow and let loose a volley at the knight, but the Knight dodged to the side, avoiding the arrows. While still being a distance away, Gael casted the white corona miracle. Five discs of golden light shot forth from his hand and toward the knight. The Knight rolled forward and dodged the discs, but was caught off guard when they came back, injuring him.
Not wanting to let the Knight heal, Gael flew into the air, using his cape like a pair of wings, and lunged at the knight. The knight managed to dodge the initial attack but not the cape as it reached out like a hand and clawed at him. The knight still manages to survive and retreat to heal. Gael wouldn't let them and charged at them, but once again the knight swung his blade and managed to stun him.
The Knight used this to his advantage, riposting Gael. Gael could actually slightly feel the pain as the blade went into his gut. The Knight removed his blade and got ready to unleash his own flurry of blows, but Gael let out his own combination of attacks first, almost killing the Knight. The battle raged on with both become more and more worn out.
Near the end, the Knight's Estus was out and Gael was on the edge of dying. In one final clash to decide the victor, the two charge at each other. Gael flew above the knight, skulls of humanity coming out of his cape and attacking the knight. The Knight dodged the skulls, but where the skulls landed, lightning struck. Gael then swung his blade horizontally, hoping to finish the Knight at last, But the Knight dodged the attack as well and gave the killing blow.
Gael fell down on his knees once more, his sanity returning to him for a brief moment. He reached out with the last of his strength, "My...lady..." Gael tried to say, but no such words came out as he collapsed onto the ground.
As Gael could feel death's cold embrace, and everything went dark for him, he had only one wish...
And that was to see his lady one...last...time...
(-)
Within the desert region of Lahara, a small caravan was making a shortcut through the desert to The Order city of Lescete.
Gren the caravan master rode in the lead, a heap of sweat dripping down his forehead. He was beginning to regret his decision to go this way. Forget the extra pay they would get for arriving early from the guild, he was dying here. He was even more agitated when the lady who gave him the map said that it would be a short trip with nothing to worry about. Yeah, like that was true.
"Boss, uhh the people have been wondering... uhh when are we gonna get to some form of shelter?" Spoke one of his guards as the rode up next to him.
Gren replied to the guard, clear agitation in his voice, "We are about halfway there, so keep your mouth shut."
"But sir, we are running low on water. And to be honest sir, this armour is getting uncomfortably hot."
Gren gritted his teeth, that was their fault. He never told them they had to keep it on. Besides, he didn't like it as much as they did, but now he had to think of something or else his people would bail on him the moment they got it. That was a big no since he would be losing profit from that. So he thought of a quick lie to tell the guard, " We should be getting to a source of water and shade soon, probably in a few good miles."
"Are you certain boss?"
"Yes, I am, now shut it!"
A few more hours passed, Gren felt exhausted and he was not the only one as when he looked back, a good few of the people looked absolutely miserable. Gren prayed to all the gods he could think of for a situation out of this, preferably someplace of rest. His prayers seemed to be answered, for when he turned looked forward again, he could see in the short distance some strange ruins with a lake near it.
But it was too good to be true. Gren was snapped out of his excitement from the sound of sharp gasps of pain. He turned back to his caravan to see in horror, a wave of girtablilu attacking his people from out of nowhere, Injecting them with their venom and taking them away. That was not all though, the few who had not yet been claimed by the girtablilu were flanked by ghouls came out of the sand and them down, eagerly sucking on them like animals.
"No...not like this, I won't go out like this!" Screamed Gren as he began to ride away as fast as possible on his horse, but he was not fast enough as a ghoul managed to catch up in time and jumped onto the horse.
Gren yelled in desperation, "GET OFF!" The ghoul would not let go, clawing at him like a beast in an attempt to remove his clothes to have her way with him. Eventually, Gren managed to push them off, but not before the ghoul dragged him with her.
They both crashed down onto the ground, the horse not stopping as it continued to ride away. The ghoul jumped onto Gren before he could get up, pinning him down. Gren wouldn't let this be the end of him. With all his might he pushed the ghoul of him. The ghoul fell back but quickly got up. Despite how fast the ghoul got up, Gren was still able to get his blade out.
She didn't even pay any attention to the blade Gren wielded, mindlessly charging at him. Gren's blade went straight through her gut as he thrusted his blade forward, blood splashing onto his expensive clothing.
The ghoul would not stop though, still clawing at Gren to claim him as hers. He pushed her down, removing his bloody blade from her gut. This time he was the one pinning her and wouldn't let her turn the tables this time.
"JUST DIE ALREADY!" Screamed Gren as he repeatedly stabbed the ghoul again and again in a mindless rage. Eventually, there was nothing left but a pile of flesh and a very blunt blade. He would have soon continued to try and run, at least try to get to the ruins, but something caught his eye.
A small white flame came out of the ghoul's corpse. It hovered above the body for a moment or two before going into the ground.
"What in the name of the chief god was that?" Gren's question was soon answered as the ground started shaking and the sand where the small flame had gone began to rise.
From the sand, he rose. A creature that looked like a man but was far taller than him. A creature whose long cape had skulls seemingly formed within it, and a rusty set of armour with bandages and bits of flesh in between some it. A creature whose face could not be seen, save for a long white beard coming out of a red hood.
The Red Hood has returned.
