Dawn
Whether it was simply a placebo effect or not, the fog of exhaustion which seemed to drag him down further each day, had lifted partially. While Lothric would never claim to feel energetic, he at least did not feel as if he belonged at death's door as he had for a long time now. A feeling which had been exceedingly magnified when his brother had left for Farron's Keep. The time he was gone had been agony and Lothric's health had declined sharply.
He had not shared this with Lorian. With all that was transpiring, his brother had plenty to worry about already without an additional burden from Lothric. He only hoped the newfound strength he felt did not come at the cost of Lorian's own.
The first rays of light had only just begun shining through the window as Lothric slid out of the bed and began to dress, so Lothric knew he was still on-time at the very least as he teleported to just outside the Archive's main entrance where he spotted Kriemhild already waiting, nervously plucking at a loose thread in her robes. He glanced around for a moment to make sure his shadow hadn't followed him - though he suspected even Kamui struggled when he teleported.
When he appeared in front of Kriemhild, she jumped slightly, hand clutching at her chest before laughing nervously. "Forgive me, Prince Lothric, I'm not quite accustomed to seeing you appear out of thin air just yet."
"Apologies," he said with a small smile, "I thought it might be best to expedite my arrival to our meeting with as few prying eyes as possible."
"A wise decision, though hopefully unnecessary."
"Where shall we begin then today?" Lothric asked, his voice casual. After all, as far as the rest of the Keep was concerned, they were simply meeting as tutor and student.
Kriemhild began walking away from the Archives, extending her arm out to Lothric as she went. "I thought we might take advantage of a more scenic location today."
Lothric hummed his approval as he followed her back across the bridge back to the main Keep and then through one of the smaller chapels near his study. There was a lift he knew led up to the rarely used Throne Room, and he was curious why she was leading him there. At the top, instead of heading toward the throne room where a handful of guards stood dutifully, she directed him left until they were in the center of the bridge. Lothric turned to Kriemhild expectantly as she placed her hands on the bridge railings, looking down over the rest of the castle.
"Do you ever find yourself up towards this part of the castle, Prince Lothric?"
He pondered her question for a moment. He had, in fact, only been to this area perhaps twice in his entire life for dull ceremonies held in the Throne Room - both arranged by his Mother. "I fear I do not."
"The view is quite lovely, you can see nearly the entire kingdom from here. There," she gestured ahead, "down there is your study. And beside us," she pointed to the right, "is in fact the Grand Archives. You can even see the dome of the roof from here." And she finally pointed further up to a roof even higher than they already were, and sure enough Lothric could see the dome structure.
"You find yourself here often then?" He asked, joining her in leaning on the railing.
"Oh yes," she agreed. "The top floor of the archives connects to a lovely courtyard, just beyond that corridor."
"I see. Fresh air must do you well along with the peace and quiet. I cannot imagine you encountered many others all the way up here."
"Indeed not, my Lord. The few souls I do usually see are the guards stationed here to guard the Throne Room. Though I have on a few occasions also seen Master Gotthard and Master Wulfred in the small courtyard. But," she turned to face him then, "it's given me clarity of mind and plenty of space to practice new sorceries."
So, Wulfred and Gotthard spoke in private in the courtyard - it was not the most unusual thing Lothric heard considering most matters involving the Pillars required some level of privacy. He moved a step back and gestured for Kriemhild to continue. "Would you do me the honor of showing me one such sorcery?"
Kriemhild's eyes lit up at the suggestion and she backed away further, now facing the other side of the bridge overlooking more of the mountain range behind the castle. "What the Sages usually focus on are small, agile sorceries that work well in combat. But I've always been fascinated by the idea of seeing what a single sorcery could theoretically produce." She pulled out her staff then, raising it high over her head where magic began to coalesce above the tip of the staff. The air around them seemed to hum with magic before Kriemhild swung her staff down and the dense magic stretched forth while also rolling down like a crashing wave.
"Very impressive," Lothric praised.
"Thank you, Prince Lothric." Kriemhild said with a small smile. "I have noticed you use your sorceries and miracles in much the same manner as the Sage's, all fired in quick succession."
"To accommodate my lack of mobility, yes."
She shook her head. "You have plenty of mobility, and it is a far more devastating tool than perhaps you realize."
Lothric was intrigued. "In what sense?"
"When your enemy loses sight of you, they must either anticipate where you will be next, or be forced to spend several precious seconds searching for you. Those few seconds are plenty-"
"-to cast a much larger sorcery, yes I see." Lothric finished, already thinking through the potential of what she was saying. "And used in combination with the rapid homing sorceries, I can create an even larger window."
Kriemhild grinned at him, "Shall we try it out, my Lord?"
x
Lothric had remained with Kriemhild to finesse the technique until midday which was around the same time a shift-change of the guards at the Throne Room occurred - a proper hand-off occurring between the knights during the process guaranteeing there was never a moment without coverage.
He sat now in the gardens, where he awaited Lorian who had agreed to meet with him for a few minutes to discuss what he learned from his meeting with Kriemhild. It had been a while, Lothric realized, since he and Lorian had visited the gardens for more than a casual stroll, before the bond had been amplified.
The moment still haunted him.
He could still picture in his mind Lorian being repeatedly impaled with no regard; Lothric powerless to do anything but pour every ounce of his energy, his very soul, into the miracle as he mended Lorian's wounds - again and again and again. If he allowed it, he could practically feel the unsettling warmth of his brother's blood coating his hands as it spilled out between the plates of his armor. His fingers had ached from his grasp on Lorian's breastplate, struggling to heal him and keep him upright all at once, as if letting him fall meant…
At this rate, there is only one step further we can take to test the limits. He remembered Wulfred's callous suggestion, the words seared into his own soul with a bitterness he would not, could not, ever forgive. A proposal as if Lorian was just another experiment, another creature to be studied, with no regard for the value of his life. And his father, equally callous and cruel, uttered the command of filicide without hesitation or remorse.
There was the moment when Lothric felt the life fade from his brother, mere moments after Lorian fumbled to grasp the front of Lothric's robes, only to fall limp in his arms, and Lothric didn't have the strength to lift him as they both collapsed to the ground. The same blood that had stained his hands had pooled around them, still warm as it seeped into Lothric's prayer robes where his knees dug into rough stone on the ground.
He had prayed, as emphatically as he cursed, to every so-called God that had led to this very moment. Prayed with every ounce of strength he could muster as he cast Bountiful Sunlight once more and was met with… nothing. Lorian's body remained in his arms, motionless.
He had been in free-fall, his insides feeling as though they were collapsing inwards, as though he was sinking, fading away. It was indescribable, the void he felt within, the cold and cruel reality settling in as dread began filling the void. The only thought that had kept him anchored was the fact that he had apparently managed to save Lorian once before, in his sleep and half a world away.
How could he be a Lord of Cinder and save the world when he couldn't even save his brother?
Lothric had crumpled over Lorian's body on the ground, let go of the armor, raising his hands upwards, transfixed by the blood that ran down his arms. Beyond his outstretched fingers he could see the gilded cage - as if somehow Gertrude would be able to help him. Lothric envisioned that instead of sunlight, that he was reaching beyond, out to the dull ember of the First Flame itself. Willing the very thing that shackled him to help him in that moment, clutching his hands together around the intangible light of his miracle, burning like a wildfire in his hands and pressed down on Lorian's chest, as if he could force life back into him.
Desperation and delirium.
A fire pooled in his stomach and beneath him came a choked gasp for air as Lorian was resurrected. Enshrouded in flame.
"...Lothric?" Lorian's voice - real this time - came from above him. Lothric snapped out of his wandering thoughts and turned to look up at his brother. Alive.
"Forgive me, brother," Lothric apologized softly before tapping the ground beside him with one hand. Lorian sat beside him so that they were pressed shoulder to shoulder.
"What troubles you?" asked Lorian.
"It is nothing, I was simply… lost in thought."
Lorian hummed and gazed up at the sky. "You are a terrible liar, but I will not pry further, unless you wish to speak of it." He paused to give Lothric an opportunity, and when Lothric did not take it, he continued, "How did you fare in your meeting with Kriemhild?"
Lothric forced himself to push the echoes of the memory to the back of his mind as he recounted what he had learned from his former tutor. "It is likely that the rotation of the guards stationed at the Throne Room are complicit in some manner. Even if they are not her champions directly, they must be turning a blind eye to their activities."
"It will be a simple matter to identify those currently assigned to the post. And the traitor?"
At that question, Lothric frowned. "Nothing of substance, and I would prefer to not use what leverage I have until we have exhausted all other options."
There was the information Kriemhild had provided regarding the fact that Wulfred and Gotthard apparently met in the courtyard above the Archives, out of sight, to have private conversations. On the surface there was nothing suspicious about such meetings, but the fact that Kriemhild had thought it worth mentioning at all - Lothric couldn't shake the feeling that there was more happening than he realized.
If Gotthard was protecting the hunter who revealed the information of Gertrude's whereabouts, why would he have assisted Lothric with the disposal of Godwyn all those years ago, in addition to helping prevent Gertrude's location from being revealed in the first place? Something wasn't adding up, but without more information to go on or evidence, Lothric knew it was best not to mention his suspicions to Lorian. He needed his brother to focus on gathering more information on Gertrude's followers.
"With few knights these days assigned to the Keep directly, it will be a simple matter to disrupt or infiltrate whichever shifts might be involved," Lorian said, interrupting Lothric's thoughts.
"Be careful that you do not interfere in a way that might alert them to our involvement."
Lorian lightly knocked his shoulder with his own and asked with a half-smile, "When will you learn to trust me to do more than kill things?"
Lothric hummed as though deep in thought, "Possibly when you forget how to wield your sword."
"Shall I take this as the news that you have no plans to name me the next Black Hand?"
"I thought it best to let you down gently, dear brother. For the sake of your pride. You understand, surely."
"Yes, of course." Lorian smiled faintly in amusement as they sat together in silence. They were treading down a dangerous path, but it was important, Lothric realized, to stop and enjoy simple moments such as these.
Lorian moved to stand. "I must be going - I have a meeting to discuss the scheduled patrol re-assignments with Oswin and Estrid, and it seems there is much to consider in regards to assignments."
"There is one other matter," Lothric called out, "one I believe best suited for you to decide. The current members of the Royal Guard are sworn to Father and are stationed in the Archives to guard him. In the days to come, it might be wise to consider new members for a Royal Guard. Our Royal Guard, composed of knights you know you can trust."
Lorian regarded him silently for a moment. "I believe that can be arranged."
Lothric remained seated in the garden for a while longer after Lorian left. His gaze fell on the raised platform in the middle of the garden and if he allowed his mind to wander, he could almost picture a younger Lorian training. A memory that felt like a lifetime ago. He turned his gaze higher still until he could vaguely see the sun, obscured by the leaves of the tree. The sun did not shine as brightly these days as the First Flame faded.
He felt stronger from the bond, from being close to Lorian - that much was undeniable at this point. But how long would that strength possibly last as the fire inevitably lessened to embers? Without the First Flame, and considering his Lord's Soul, Lothric couldn't stop himself from wondering - the moment the flame faded for the last time, would he die?
Would death truly be such a terrible thing?