Realization

Sleep evaded Lothric as a bone-deep weariness settled in, spurred on from a moment several nights prior that stirred him from his sleep. He had woken to an unsettling sense of dread followed by the sensation of his body on fire and something slipping away, though he knew not what. It had been similar to other night terrors, and yet entirely different. The feeling was less abstract, and he would have sworn that if he had been able to touch his skin he would have burned.

But the feeling faded away as fast as it had occurred, as though it hadn't happened at all. It left Lothric feeling entirely drained of all energy by the time he had awoken.

Had it been the First Flame reaching out? If it had, the bells should have tolled.

The memory haunted Lothric, but he did his best to push it away since the coronation ceremony was almost upon them, and Emma was driving Lothric to madness with her preparations. Each day she hounded him over some trivial matter that would make no difference. So long as he attended the ceremony and Emma gave a speech to discourage dissenters then they would accomplish what they intended. There were more pockets of insurgents by the day and still no word of his brother.

He was expecting a report from Gotthard, though his expectations were the same as they had been for weeks now, since he was first sent on his search for Gertrude. Lothric was restless all morning in anticipation, unable to clearly focus on a single letter or thought. It had been this way since the nightmare. By the time Gotthard finally did arrive, Lothric had found one of his father's studies to distract himself with.

"Report?" Lothric asked, not bothering to look up from his work.

"Gertrude and her followers remain elusive still." Gotthard said without so much as a hint of remorse in his voice. All was still going to plan in that regard, after all. "Those who follow her are growing bolder each day. It appears as though even some of the knights are beginning to be swayed."

Lothric glanced up at that. "To what extent?"

"I found a crudely crafted banner in the barracks, as well as some notes."

"What did these notes contain?"

Gotthard handed him a piece of parchment with hastily scribbled symbols. Lothric had seen these before. "Her miracle?"

"Some derivation of it at the very least it appears." Gotthard crossed his arms over his chest, "They are growing more organized. It may do well for us to intervene before it becomes an issue."

"You know where she is?"

"I've heard rumors - rumors that if I suddenly found credible enough to follow up on, may lead to her."

Lothric set down the parchment, steepling his fingers beneath his chin as he considered Gotthard's offer. "If left alone they are likely to continue growing quietly. I fear if anything were to happen at the moment, we would only be encouraging them to act out. Right now I suspect they feel complacent knowing Gertrude's safety is guaranteed and they think we are incapable of tracking them."

"Then I will continue as planned. Give the order and I can change the tide whenever you please."

"Thank you, Gotthard. Have you any other news to report?"

"Only rumors."

"I would like to hear them."

"There is a rumor that a group has been spotted out behind the Abyss Watchers domain, heading toward the kingdom."

"The members of this group?"

"An old woman, a younger woman, and a man. It is said they wear the Lothric colors."

Lothric bit back a sigh of relief. "And when were they spotted?"

"A few days back according to one of my hunters."

"As they approach the main gates, ensure that they are escorted properly back inside and given immediate attention to their every need."

Gotthard smiled and bowed. "As you command. Anything else?"

"That is all."

It wouldn't do for Lothric to needlessly get his hopes up, but deep down he knew it was Lorian. It had to be. His brother was alive, which could only mean he defeated the Demon Prince just as he swore he would. If they were spotted near the Abyss Watchers then they would arrive back in Lothric soon enough.

After Gotthard had left, Lothric continued with his research into what had caused him to fall ill and what Gertrude may have done to heal him. There were so many unknowns, and no one could tell him if he was at risk of it happening again.

He rubbed his leg absent-mindedly.

Though the pain was gone for the time being, Lothric could still clearly remember the agony that coursed through his legs and arms at the time. Even now, it was as if he could feel a phantom tremor of pain spiking through.

With each day that passed, Lothric noticed that his legs and arms would go numb, and for longer each time it occurred. It was like lightning was trapped in his limbs.

In all of his reading, the closest thing he had discovered were Dragon Stones, powerful tools used by those who worshipped the ancient dragons to the point that their own bodies began to morph into dragons themselves. It was an affliction that lasted until their death.

Judging by his father's notes and misshapen body as well as Lothric's partially clawed hands and feet, it was nearly guaranteed that his father had used the stones in some way to cause these changes to both of them.

Lothric examined his hands, staring at the overgrown fingers and pointed nails. He knew his feet and legs looked similar, though this was no different than how they had been shaped when he was born. He had come into this world a twisted God and it seems fate would have him leave it more dragon than man.

He still had so many unanswered questions.

He looked at the scrawled miracle Gotthard had given him, trying to glean any sort of hint from its pages, but to no avail. It seemed no different from other miracles he had witnessed other than its reference to the Angels instead of prayers to the First Flame.

There were no more notes that spoke of how to reverse the effect other than death.

Lothric was hitting dead end after dead end. Other than his father, who would likely lash out if asked about reversing the effects, there was only one other who may have the information he sought.

To ask, he needed to visit the Archives.

Setting aside his notes, Lothric concentrated on his mind's view of the Archives, letting the world around him fade into a white light before emerging on the other side. He had appeared in the center of the Archives in dead silence. All around him were robed scholars, who said nothing but merely stared at him.

"Where is Head Scholar Wulfred?" he asked.

One of the scholars, not adorned in scholar robes, stepped forward, "Prince Lothric?"

"Mistress Kriemhild?" He took in the sight of her, surprised to see her here of all places, and still in her Fire Keeper robes. "What brings you here?"

"After we last spoke, you had no need of a tutor anymore so I resumed my apprenticeship with the Crystal Sages."

"Yes, of course." He should have known - perhaps he did. It was hard to keep track of the whereabouts of everyone these days. He did miss his training days; rarely did he find time to practice his sorceries recently. "If you have time, we should resume our sessions."

Her smile grew. "I would be happy to; I've learned so much since I returned. But we can discuss that later, what can I do for you now?"

"I am here to speak with Head Scholar Wulfred."

"Of course, he usually asks that he not be disturbed, but you are the Prince. Right this way."

He followed Kriemhild through the winding maze of bookshelves, tables, and staircases. Lothric was surprised to see how much the Grand Archives had changed over the years as they passed several pits of wax; Lothric watched as one of the scholars dipped their head in the wax before continuing on to pull a book from one of the shelves. He could feel the residual sorcery everywhere in the air - glancing up he could see the fluttering robes and giant hat of what he assumed to be one of the Crystal Sages. It appeared his father had been busy, expanding the scale of the Grand Archives and the knowledge kept within.

Eventually they reached the top of the Archives and Kriemhild stopped, gesturing towards a doorway. "Through here. It was good to see you, Prince Lothric."

With a nod of acknowledgement, Lothric headed through the doorway, drawing Wulfred's attention. Wulfred stood from the table where he sat, removing his spectacles and setting them aside. "Prince Lothric, have you come to speak with your Father? I'm afraid he's quite indisposed at the moment."

Lothric took a seat across from him. "On the contrary, I have come to speak with you." He motioned to the chair, "please."

With a moment's hesitation, Wulfred reclaimed his seat. "How may I be of service?"

"You have heard of Dragon Stones. Have you not?"

A pause. "I have."

"And I would guess my Father has as well, given that he has used them in the past already."

Wulfred shifted in his chair before answering. "He has, though he did not use them on himself."

That couldn't be right. If he hadn't used them on himself, how had he made such a drastic transformation? "But-"

"What King Oceiros has accomplished is far beyond what the Dragon Stones could provide. What he seeks is not an imitation, but a genuine embodiment of the Paledrake to which he has gone to extreme lengths to achieve. Though what he has done to himself is still but an echo of what he asked of the Queen."

"I have heard rumors."

"In preparing for your birth, after the disappointment of Lorian, King Oceiros commanded that the Queen be given finely ground shards of what remained of the Primordial Crystal and Dragon Stones. It made her grievously ill as her body attempted to cleanse itself, but King Oceiros had to try more." Wulfred clasped his hands together on the desk before continuing. "He ordered Godwyn and his guards to find the remains of an ancient dragon. They found only a small piece that they were able to recover - it was petrified. Your mother, delirious from her illness, consumed it."

Lothric's stomach rolled. "What was he intending to accomplish?"

"He desired an heir worthy of reclaiming the First Flame: to become a Lord of Cinder. He believes he has accomplished this goal."

"Well then he is mistaken," Lothric spat. "I will be Lord of nothing should my condition worsen."

"You underestimate your heritage," Wulfred scolded. "Do you never wonder how a union such as that between your parents came to be? King Oceiros, though he rules over the greatest Kingdom left standing in the wake of all that has occurred in the world, is but a Man, a Man who seeks greatness. But the Queen gave you, and Lorian, a fragment of the Lord's soul. There are other, bastard children of hers, and the other Gods in the world. You are by no means the only demi-God that exists with both the Lord's soul and curse of Man."

"I am aware."

"But what you are not aware of," Wulfred continued, "is that what your Father did to her leading up to your birth, tipped the scales. The Queen's Lord soul is a shadow of what it once was. So weak was she between the fading of the flame and her delirious state, that the Lord soul that grew within you eclipsed hers."

"If what you say is true, then I must speak with her. Where is she now?"

"Safe, in your Father's care, where she cannot be disturbed."

Lothric was skeptical but held his tongue so that he might keep Wulfred talking. "What does my soul have to do with my condition?"

"I can only speculate."

"Then speculate."

"I believe, as I have since you were a sickly child, that your soul is fragmented in its purpose. You weaken as the flame weakens, so strong is your connection to it. It is in part why you were destined to be the Lord of Cinder - just as your father desired. But what none of us expected was the rate at which it would decay and the negative effects it would have upon you."

"Why is Lorian not similarly affected then?" Lothric asked.

"He takes more after King Oceiros than the Queen. It was why your father cast him aside. He did not have the connection to the First Flame, too strong is his humanity. Though it serves him well now as the Flame grows weaker and the Dark grows stronger. But do not forget, you also bear the hopes and dreams of King Oceiros's attempts to harness the power of the dragon-kin for his heir. The ancient dragons were at odds with the Gods who tamed the Flame, but King Oceiros believed the union between the two would create a stronger, more powerful heir than any had seen before."

Lothric closed his eyes, bowing his head beneath his hood as he tried to take in what Wulfred was telling him. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you are destined to link the flame, and continue this Age that we are in. That is, and has always been, King Oceiros's first and foremost wish for you. I hope with this information, you will understand the gravity of the situation. That if you do not link the flame… I suspect you would not survive whatever transformation would come."

Lothric felt his heart sink like a stone in his chest; the truth of the situation weighing him down as he tried to reconcile all this information with everything he had known to this point. "Shortly before I recovered, I saw Gertrude," he admitted. "She cast a miracle on me and when I awoke next she was gone, but the pain had faded and my legs could move once again. Whatever miracle she cast saved me."

"Impossible. How could Gertrude have learned such a sorcery? How could her heretical miracles have such power? No. You were delirious, you must be misremembering."

"Delirious though I may have been, I know what I saw. I know what I felt."

Wulfred sat back in his chair, absently running a hand over the book before him. "Prince Lothric, please describe to me exactly what you endured before Gertrude intervened."

"Agony. My legs stiffened and it felt as though my very bones were splintering." Lothric paused, thinking back to what he could manage to remember. "They said my legs were twisting."

"Presumably you are suffering from a similar fate as your father. Your body is attempting to shift into the shape of a dragon-kin."

"Has there been anything recorded of this sort before?"

Wulfred barked a cruel laugh. "None have been egoistic enough to try anything of this sort before. But even still, until recently you have seemed in far better health, it would not make sense that your connection to the Flame should have suffered so drastically in such a short timeframe. The bells have not yet tolled."

Lothric pondered this. "My routine has remained the same, the only changes were Lorian departing to pursue the Demon Prince and the Pontiff's brief visit shortly prior to that. Could the Pontiff -?"

"He is an unknown element to be sure," Wulfred said and began pacing behind his chair, "but I believe if he desired your incapacitation or death, he would achieve it through less subtle means. Lorian's departure, however, is a different matter entirely."

"Why should my brother's departure have any impact now? He has left the castle before."

"The two of you have grown here in this castle, with you rarely departing from the castle grounds, but Lorian leaves fairly often, it's true. And what happens each time he leaves?"

"He returns with whatever prize he set out to acquire, why?"

"Yes, feats and prizes each more impressive than the last." Wulfred paused, thumb pressed against his lips in thought. "Each time he leaves, he returns stronger than when he left."

"As is to be expected," Lothric countered.

"Not like what he has demonstrated. Your brother spent years training and sparring with various knights and hunters, and in all that time, eventually he reached a point where he failed time and time again to improve his skills further."

"There is only so much to be learned through sparring." Lothric was confused as to where Wulfred was going with his explanation. "You said yourself that his humanity is stronger than his connection to the Flame."

Wulfred shook his head, unconvinced. "No, I don't believe that explains it entirely. This may perhaps be simple correlation and not causation, but consider for a moment, Prince Lothric, that the longer Prince Lorian spends away from the kingdom and by extension, you, the stronger he becomes."

"I would appreciate if you stopped dancing around whatever you are implying."

"Consider this then, Prince Lothric," Wulfred said, understanding dawning on his face as he spoke, "I believe due to the nature of your birth, your body fights off the power that desires to transform you until you have no strength left in your soul to fight it. And when that happens-"

"The transformation begins," Lothric finished solemnly.

"However, what I hypothesize is that when Prince Lorian is nearby, your soul acts in a capacity similar to that of a leech, draining his strength and replenishing the strength you are not receiving from the Flame. When you are not near, then the strength which he gradually loses to you, is allowed to grow." Wulfred paused, staring over the railing down into the rest of the archive, muttering to himself. "And yet... you do not share this effect with the Queen or indeed any of her other children. The only difference being that you share the same parentage. A faint echo of a bond perhaps?"

"And what explanation do you have of how Gertrude was able to heal me?"

"I have none to offer in explanation of what Gertrude performed upon you to reverse the effects. Did she amplify the strength of your connection to the Flame? Did she supplement it? Or perhaps she simulated the effects of whatever connection you share with Lorian… I must..." He trailed off before turning back to Lothric, "If that is all, Prince Lothric?"

Lothric, in fact, had many more questions, but each one made his stomach twist and he chose not to voice them. He feared he had set Wulfred upon a path he would soon come to regret. "That was all."

He opted to walk back to his rooms, allowing himself time to consider what he had learned. If what Wulfred suggested was true, then this reprieve that he had experienced could fade at any time, and he would be at risk once again if his brother did not return soon.

As he exited the Archives, Lothric motioned for one of the many guards stationed in the area who immediately rushed to his side, "You have orders, my Lord?"

"Find Gotthard, send him to my study, I would speak with him at once. I spoke with him only a few hours ago, he should not be far away."

The guard saluted and ran off while Lothric continued on his way.

By the time he reached his study, Gotthard was already waiting inside. "Has something happened, Prince Lothric?"

"A new discovery, Gotthard, and with it, a new conspiracy. Wulfred's desire to capture Gertrude has been redoubled. I imagine it will not be long before he begins sending his own spies to track her down if he has not already done so."

"What caused this sudden renewed interest?"

Lothric hesitated before answering, "Whatever miracle she cast to heal me, Wulfred believes may give him answers to whatever he is researching on behalf of my Father. But that is not my main concern at this point."

"Prince Lorian?"

"Wulfred believes if he is kept away from my person that whatever illness overtook me before would return and I would transform into whatever shape my Father had initially designed for me. But he does not understand the underlying reason behind it," Lothric hesitated, lowering his voice, "and we both know what happens to those subjected to Wulfred's studies."

"Surely he cannot make such a bold and direct move. Not while you remain in power in King Oceiros's absence."

"I fear Head Scholar Wulfred stands at the precipice of the same madness that gripped my Father, and he will soon have no respect for tradition or laws." Lothric sat, exhausted. "I would have you send your most trusted hunters to escort my brother through the final stretch of the kingdom, until he is safely returned within these walls."

"It will be done."

"If you do not already have those in place to keep an eye on Wulfred, then you should arrange it immediately. I want to know what he is planning and when he is planning on acting."

Gotthard inclined his head. "Such matters have already been put in place. I will inform you as soon as I hear any word from those I trust."

Lothric felt as though he would melt away under the pressure he felt. He had inadvertently tipped Wulfred's hand, and now they may all suffer the consequences. "And Gotthard-"

"Yes?"

He chose his words carefully. "I will not see Gertrude made into a martyr."