Betrayal
Lothric was trapped in a cycle of agony of his own making. Unwilling to confront the matter, he did what he knew to do best - govern in his father's absence. When he was not spending every waking moment coordinating, planning, or writing letters, he found himself researching.
Despite the long history of the Gods, miracles, and sorcery locked safely away in the Grand Archives, there was a lack of books that even mentioned a bond between creatures or between souls. His study was scattered with various tomes and scrolls, all tossed aside unless there was anything that may allude to what he brought upon his brother.
One of the books he was currently reading dated back to the earliest parts of the Age of Fire, a phenomenon still not truly understood. Mankind was unique. They contained souls, but also humanity, and every so often in what appeared to be split beings, there would be two humanities. Twin humanities. Much of what was written was purely speculation, theories that each part of a being had its own humanity, and humanity is naturally drawn to other humanity. There didn't appear to be any significance behind it. No mysterious strength or ailment. No relationship outside of the odd happenstance of two humanities found alongside each other.
The closest example he knew of was that of the Abyss Watches and the ritual Hawkwood had described where each member partook in the wolf's blood, linking their souls. Unfortunately, due to the current state of the covenant after they became a Lord of Cinder, it was impossible to find records of what the process entailed. Lothric had even searched through all accounts of the legion's original inspiration, Artorias, to no avail.
If he took Hawkwood at his word, then the bond of the Abyss Watchers was unlike that of the Dragon Riders or his bond to Lorian. Where the Abyss Watchers acted unified as a single entity, Lothric and the rest had managed, to some extent, to retain their sense of selves… or so it seemed.
With no clear historical answers, he turned to the source of miracles, documented in braille - but it was not a tome of miracles like most other texts intended for the blind were. It dated back to the Age of Gwyn and the Way of White when Gods were at their peak and the power of miracles could be seen in their echoes, white rings of faith left in their wake. He was grateful for all the lessons from Emma in his youth as he ran his fingers over the pages.
A miracle's power is only as mighty as thy belief in its power. If 't be true thee believeth t possible, if 't be true thee has't faith, the lord's soul shall grant thee power by the blessing of the Flame.
All are linked to the Flame, and to the Flame we returneth at our end.
As long as a person has't a soul, all is possible by the Flame's blessing, f'r light is time itself, and the warmth of the Flame allows the impossible - an injury can beest healed as though t nev'r did occur.
Light allows f'r us to see the many different paths ere us. Different worlds yond overlap. We learneth from what the light illuminates, so we might taketh the most wondrous path.
We keep the Flame alight so we might continue to see.
It was the only tome he had encountered that alluded to the power behind miracles. It was funny, he realized, that he had never drawn the connection between miracles and sorceries of light and how they manipulated time. It was right in that many miracles could entirely reverse a wound - though Lothric had never seen it at the scale the tome alluded to. But similar feats were performed routinely on weapons, armor, and other broken things.
If all was connected by the Flame and through miracles time could be manipulated relative to the Flame then… what? Even if he could reverse time, to undo the bond, it left him where he was before: a broken bond and Lorian likely dead. He had managed to drag his brother's soul back, twice, though he still knew not how.
Lothric carefully placed the book aside and buried his head in his hands. It was the greatest betrayal. A betrayal of truth. A betrayal of agency. A tiny fragment of soul that has taken away any chance at a future Lorian may have had a chance to have.
He wanted to send Lorian away from himself, to allow the bond to weaken in the hopes that it could be broken. But he had felt the impacts of the bond, and had seen it reflected in Lorian when they spoke. The bond was wreaking havoc on them both.
It was clear separation was not doing either of them good, at least not at the distances they were keeping apart in the castle. With any sense to guide him, Lothric would have proposed they try remaining together, attempting to strengthen the connection further - but he couldn't bring himself to face his brother.
So instead he isolated himself, and they each lost themselves to their work and their routines.
Lothric lifted his head from his hands, staring blankly at the space of his study. There was nothing more to be gleaned from the books kept here. His father's notes were likely the only place he would find answers since he and Wulfred had alluded to the nature of the bond being similar to that used between the Dragon Riders and their wyverns, but if he suspected Lothric's intentions to undo the bond, he would never allow him to see such notes.
His eye caught on a bookshelf with a book ajar on the shelf, not pushed back in line with the rest. Curiosity got the better of him and he moved to pluck the book from its place, turning it over in his hands. It was newer, recently bound. He flipped the first page open, surprised to see Oceiros's handwritting. But what was it doing here in his study?
Pontiff Sulyvahn, he realized. This was the book he had been flipping through when he spoke with Lothric, before…
He clearly knew what Oceiros's intentions were before he spoke with Lothric, but it failed to explain his motivations. Sulyvahn had declared, quite openly, his intentions to see the Flame extinguished. And yet, he had assisted King Oceiros in providing Lothric what they believed would be the power to link the Flame.
Lothric carried the book back to his desk, carefully reading through the pages. This particular collection of notes seemed to date back only a few years, centered around the secrets of Seath the Scaleless and the bonds to capture the wyverns so that Oceiros might have dragons at his disposal.
It was simple to trace his father's lucid days with those colored with madness by the handwriting that would be neatly organized and printed on one page and would descend into barely legible scrawls covering every inch of the page on the next. It seemed the sections directly discussing Seath were the ones screaming with madness. The section on the Dragon Rider bonds, thankfully, was written during moments of clarity.
Titanite scales were unique from other forms of titanite that existed, since they were used exclusively to enhance the qualities of soul transposed weapons since the scales themselves were already mutated by the souls the lizards consumed. Oceiros had gone into great detail on proofing how they synergized.
From there, sorceries that Lothric couldn't quite follow were able to transform the soul properties of the titanite scale, to make it susceptible to the abyss, the corruption spreading from the host who held the scale back to the original creature. And once the abyssal corruption took hold, it was the abyss that bound the creatures together.
The notes, though clearly written, did not offer further explanation on how the abyss was leveraged. But if the reason it was possible at all was due to the weakness of the host - being dead in this instance - it did not clarify how a simple knight could harness such control over the Wyverns.
Lothric spent hours flipping through the pages, attempting to decipher the sorceries and runes used in the ritual. Until he reached the end of the notes regarding the bonding where Oceiros had detailed observations of their trials.
Repeated deaths of the bound creature appears to have adverse effects on both it and the host. Effects include: decreased mobility in the limbs, loss of awareness of the self, and even the death of both the bound and the host provided the deaths occur within a short timeframe. These effects appear more prominently in the bound creature than the host, depending on the strength of the bond present.
Death of the host always results in the death of the bound creature.
Of course there was no guarantee that his bond would act similarly, but he recalled the first success - the hollow and the lizard. He remembered the way the lizard had simply stopped the instant the hollow had been killed.
A knock on the door prompted him to close the book and tuck it away, not knowing who may be entering. Admittedly, he had half expected a servant or one of the hunters to be walking through the door. He hadn't expected to see Kriemhild, out of breath as if she had run the entire way over.
"What has happened?" Lothric asked, already assuming the worst.
"Prince Lothric," she paused, catching her breath, "I bring news from the Grand Archives. Pontiff Sulyvahn has left."
Lothric rose to his feet. "When did he depart?"
"This morning. I'm sorry, I would have let you know sooner, but I only just became aware of it myself. But that's not the only reason I'm here. Today, I'm guessing shortly after they left, I noticed something peculiar where they're keeping Gertrude."
He recalled the giant cage, hanging at the peak of the Archives, and motioned for her to follow him. Lothric could never be certain if a hunter was watching over him or who it was. As of late it had been Kamui, and while he wanted to trust the man, this was a topic best left unheard.
She looked confused, but followed him as he led her out of his study. When they rounded a corner where he was sufficiently out of sight of Kamui or any other hunter that might have been following him, Lothric took Kriemhild's arm, teleporting them to the Hall of Sacrifice. The room was sufficiently empty, as he expected. Only memorials to the dead could overhear them here.
Kriemhild looked around, momentarily disoriented as she gathered her bearings. "I must confess, I had never considered what it would feel like to be teleported. It's disorienting but not entirely unpleasant. It felt as if I was standing in place and it was the world shifting around me instead."
"That is the general principle of how it works, yes," Lothric confirmed, now recalling how delightful it was to talk through sorceries with the woman.
"Something similar to time-based sorceries then?"
Lothric considered her question for a moment, thinking back on the tomes he had recently read regarding this very topic. "It is a derivative of sorts. It is dependent on visualizing the destination and understanding the precise shift in location. An approximation has the potential to lead to disaster."
"Have you ever teleported to an incorrect destination?"
"Often when I was first attempting the sorcery," Lothric admitted. "But that is why I began with objects rather than living beings."
Kriemhild nodded, tapping her chin in thought. "Of course. Still, it must have been terrifying to do such a thing to yourself."
"High Priestess Emma attempted to stop me from learning and casting sorceries entirely after she found out." He smiled at the memory, remembering how the woman had burst into his study, her face had been a shade of red he had rarely even been able to coax out of Godwyn.
"I can't imagine being scolded by her. She was always perfectly pleasant when arranging your sessions, but…" she trailed off, apparently thinking better of finishing her statement and cleared her throat. "Anyway, the reason I came to speak to you - the peculiarity around Lady Gertrude."
"What sort of peculiarity?"
"The Sage prefers to keep to the upper levels of the Archives, which is usually where I study. I have a decent view of the cage and the dreary sight that it is. But today I saw sunlight."
"One of her miracles?"
"No, my Lord. Genuine sunlight. It was incredibly faint - a reflection off the gilded bars of the cage.. And then it was gone, just as quickly."
"And Gertrude?"
"Remains in her cage, as best I can tell. I thought you might want to know, given everything that has happened as of late."
Wulfred and Oceiros would never allow him - let alone anyone else - speak with Gertrude, Lothric was sure of that at least. Had one of her followers found a way to contact her? Lothric trusted what Kriemhild witnessed, which gave him a place to begin looking. "Thank you for informing me."
"Is there anything else I can do to help?"
"Keep an eye out for similar such occurrences. You need not inform me so urgently each time it happens, but perhaps this is the opportunity to resume our sessions." If she was able to spot a pattern, and if indeed it was Gertrude's followers, it may even be one of those referred to as Gertrude's Champions by the few conscripts that had confessed to their existence.
"Of course," she bowed, "but for now I should return to the Archives before they realize I'm gone."
Lothric nodded and she bowed once more before exiting the Hall of Sacrifice. While he could send someone to investigate and perhaps keep watch, if they were discovered too quickly that would give away the fact that Lothric was onto them. There may yet be information to be gained if he allowed them to continue undisturbed - identify a pattern before striking.
He would need to inform Lorian, but the very thought brought the knot back to the pit of his stomach, so he pushed the thought from his mind. A problem for later.
Lothric considered returning to his study, but knew had managed to find out all the information he was able to from books and his father's notes. But there was still one more avenue he could pursue to attempt to learn more. The Dragon Riders were not kept in the barracks with the rest of the knights - Wulfred and Godwyn had ordered them to be housed separately in order to keep an eye on them and ensure the bond with rider and wyvern was intact.
For all of the castle Lothric was familiar with, he had always been sheltered and locked away whether by his father's wishes or by his illness, and he had never ventured to the part of the castle where the wyverns and riders were kept, since it was not directly part of the Keep. Logistically, he knew the cost of the wyverns, even if he did not directly interact with them. They had been a constant drain of resources since they were first brought back to Lothric - an overwhelming number of livestock were required to maintain them.
As he approached the dragon barracks, Lothric took in the sight of the crimson wyverns sleeping in the open area and one of the knights sitting on the ground beside it, leaning against its body. When he drew closer, the figure stirred and the wyvern began to awake with it, its nostrils flaring as one of its eyes opened and focused on Lothric.
He paused and waited for the knight to stand and approach him, but they did not bow or salute as they approached him.
"Your helmet," he said, motioning for them to remove it.
The knight did so, their movements sluggish as they pulled the helmet off their head, revealing the face beneath. His eyes were sunken in with that same eerie red that the hollow had back during the initial experiments with the Abyss. The man appeared reluctant to speak - if he even could, given his current state. Lothric recalled Wulfred's notes where he provided weekly status updates on the wyverns. This particular rider was the last that had returned. "Romund, was it?"
"Yes," replied the man, his voice hoarse, and Lothric could barely make out the dried black that stained the inside of his mouth, other remnants gathered around his eyes.
"Tell me then, Romund, what it is to be a Dragon Rider. Do you feel its pain? Do you feel its urges? A desire to destroy this kingdom and return back to whence it came?"
He struggled for a moment before replying, "It is… difficult. But not from it. My thoughts are my own."
"And the wyvern? You control it, do you not?"
Romund regarded him and the wyvern lifted its head behind him. "At first, when the taint of the Abyss was overwhelming, I commanded it by force, ignorant of my own actions. But with the other the Scholar ordered bound, there was a clarity."
"The Abyss being the catalyst of control then," Lothric mused. It aligned with the notes. "If the abyssal corruption has lessened, how have you maintained control?"
"The other, the commoner. They have the curse of the abyss to a far worse degree, but they are nothing to the bond. Just… noise."
It was a dangerous idea, if Lothric's assumption was correct in that Wulfred had somehow transferred the majority of the corruption to the commoner. But, tactically, it made sense. If control was driven through the corruption, the host in that instance would remain sheltered in the Keep and if the rider was killed, the wyvern would not die alongside them, all while the host remained safely within the Keep. "And the wyvern, in all your time commanding it, has it ever been wounded?"
Romund shook his head.
"I see." It was not surprising, considering the caliber of warrior or group of warriors it would take to be able to put up a formidable offense against a wyvern; something that was in short supply these days. With the wyvern never having suffered a grievous injury and the component of the abyssal corruption, there was nothing further Lothric could learn. The bond between wyvern and rider, and the bond between he and Lorian were vastly different.
But he had delayed the inevitable long enough, he needed to speak with his brother.
x
Lothric was roused awake by a hand on his shoulder. He must have fallen asleep waiting for Lorian to return to his room. Sure enough, Lorian stood over him, pulling his hand away as Lothric woke.
"Lothric?" A million unspoken questions in that one utterance of his name.
Guilt washed over him and Lothric quickly stood, placing distance between them; he took care not to look at Lorian's expression. "Gertrude's followers may have found a way to contact her."
"How did you come to find out about it?"
"Kriemhild. She noticed sunlight in the Archives above Gertrude's cage."
Lorian nodded, raising his hand to his chin. "Her followers have grown more active amongst the conscripts; I suspect they have begun swaying some of the higher ranks."
"Who?"
"Eadric, for certain. He is influential amongst the others due to his background and accomplishments. If he becomes vocal in his support-"
"Others will fall in line," Lothric finished. "I need to know what they are doing."
"Not stop them?" Lorian asked.
"What was done to them already was necessary to prevent the kingdom from devouring itself in the aftermath of Gertrude's capture. I would prefer not to inflict more damage and mistrust amongst those remaining."
Lorian stepped closer and Lothric reflexively took another step back. "How was Gertrude captured?"
"I was informed of her capture by Kamui shortly before the riots broke out in the streets." Lothric frowned. "She was captured on Wulfred's orders."
"Yes, when our resources were stretched too thin shortly after I departed. You were protecting her, in whatever way you were able - were you not?"
"Gotthard was aware of her general location and had instructed his hunters to divert and feed misinformation to those who were treading too closely. You believe that one of the hunters told Wulfred where she could be found?" The idea was not out of the question.
Lorian nodded, "In retrospect, the situation seems… too convenient."
If one of the hunters had betrayed him, the implication was damning. "If there is a traitor among them, they must be rooted out. Carefully."
"What do you propose?"
Lothric scrubbed a hand down his face. Everything felt so close to falling in place, and yet he was missing something. "I know not anymore. How do I investigate those closest sworn to me? Wulfred will never reveal his source, not unless he believed he stood to gain something in return."
"The Archives already contain everything he and Oceiros could desire - we have no leverage."
"No," Lothric countered in realization as his stomach sank, "we do have one thing he would want."
As if reading his mind, Lorian furrowed his brow and stepped forward. "After all the trouble you went through to obtain them-"
"Do you have any better ideas? The Fire Keeper's eyes are the only choice."
"He will destroy them."
"I will not let him."
Lorian was unbearably close, "And how will you stop him? If he learns that you are in possession of the eyes, he will tell Oceiros."
"And Father would not be pleased to learn that his beloved Lord of Cinder was in possession of the sole artifact that could sway a Fire Keeper to extinguish the flame. I am aware." Lothric paused, raising his chin, trying to exude confidence he did not feel. "If I use them as leverage against him, I must kill him."
"Lothric-"
"I will not ask you to do this for me. I will find my own way, but I must know who is acting against me."
Lothric could see that was not the answer Lorian wanted to hear, the way his expression closed off, but it was what must be done. But he would need help from some with more knowledge of Wulfred and the going-ons in the archives. He would need Kriemhild's assistance.
"Do not let this distract you from your own tasks. If Gertrude's followers are indeed making a move, I would have you learn the truth of it; particularly if I cannot trust those I would have sent to investigate in your stead."
"Of course."
He nodded at Lorian and turned to leave.
"Is that all you came here to discuss?" Lorian asked, causing Lothric to stop in his tracks and turn back to face him.
"Lorian," Lothric pleaded, knowing he was not ready to have this conversation yet; may never be ready.
His brother strode towards him. "Have I not given you enough space?"
If anything, Lorian had been far more accommodating than Lothric dared ask for while he closed himself off and tried to drive a wedge between them. "The fault is not yours. It is solely mine."
"I have no regrets." Lorian insisted.
Each word was like a dagger in Lothric's heart. "Then clearly you do not understand the extent to what has occurred."
"It was my decision. I understand what I have accepted; there is no reason that you should feel the need to push me away because of something I accepted freely."
"But therein lies the problem." Lothric said as he moved away, reaching for the door, "you did not choose it freely."
He heard his brother's muffled protests on the other side of the door as it slammed shut behind him and he stalked off back into the halls of the Keep.