AN: The very next day. This has to be some sort of record, right? This chapter was a lot of fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it.

Chapter 23: Man Sees Not Light

The charred remnants of Seath's body were pitiful at best - little more than a pile of ash. Raven's brass armor was scattered in a ten-foot area, scorched black but still bearing its original shape. Havel scoffed as he looked over the devastation, and noted that even portions of the crystalline walls and floor had been scorched to black. Shards of blackened crystal were strewn across the ground, and the cavern roof seemed jagged and shattered, as opposed to the smooth crystal formations that had composed the ceiling before.

His darksign had worked remarkably quickly this time around - probably because he had almost survived the impact which had killed him, leaving the sign with less damage to repair. Neither Oscar nor Raven had materialized when he had left to check the cavern again, and if they had been killed in whatever had ripped the paledrake apart, it was unlikely that they would be back for hours, yet. Havel walked over to Raven's armor and stuffed it unceremoniously into his bottomless box for later. Seath's Lord Soul fragment wasn't anywhere in the cave, meaning that either Raven or Oscar had been able to absorb it before their darksigns had triggered.

Oddly, Havel didn't feel any sense of resolution as he looked over Seath's charred carcass. He had thought that revenge would lift this weight off of him - and finding Sieglinde alive had managed part of it, but knowing that their child had been taken from them by the paledrake, he had expected that seeing the duke dead would provide him some closure.

"What am I waiting around here for?" Havel asked aloud, to no one in particular, "There's still another Lord Soul to collect, and it'll be damned near impossible. Gwyn's entire force couldn't breach Izalith with all of the chaos demons down there." The archbishop scoffed again. "No time like the present." Havel unceremoniously withdrew a homeward bone from his bottomless box, and snapped it in two.

Raven awoke on the balcony of the duke's archives. Oscar was leaning patiently against the edge of the doorway a few feet away, and cleared his throat as Raven stood up.

"What happened to your armor?" he asked, and Raven looked down to realize that, save for the broken amulet around her neck, she was completely naked. It made sense, when she thought about it. The black flame which had vaporized her form in an instant would logically destroy everything she happened to be wearing at the time. She told Oscar as much, and he nodded in understanding.

"Do you have any clothes?" she asked, and Oscar shook his head.

"Havel probably has something in his bottomless box, but I haven't seen him. I'm guessing he rushed back towards the crystal cave to try and kill Seath again. That explosion you mentioned - did you get him?"

Raven thought she had, and as she thought about it, she realized that she had Seath's lord soul fragment.

"He's dead. I have the soul."

"Well, that's something," Oscar replied, placing his hand to his chin in thought.

"Actually, come to think of it, there's an armor set in a chest just on the far side of one of those shelves," Oscar told her, "but you probably won't like it."

As Raven opened the chest and examined the armor, she agreed that she did not. The armor consisted of several gaudy bands of medallions, decorated by eye patterns. She had seen several channelers wearing the armor throughout the archives. She picked up the helm, with its six eye holes, and immediately tossed it aside. While she would be able to tolerate the rest of the armor, that helmet was stupid and ridiculous. As she dressed, Oscar began to speak again.

"Raven... what was that that Seath said, about you and the abyss? What was he talking about?"

"Black Flame is an abyssal spell," Raven said, "Some abyssal energy probably bled onto me as I've been using it. I wouldn't be surprised." While that was true, she was also doing her best to avoid the issue.

"He said something about voices. Do you really...?"

"No," Raven lied immediately, "I don't know what that was about. Although... the abyss is humanity, right? You hear whispers briefly when you absorb a humanity sprite. Must be something along those lines." As she said it, she realized that that was an experiment which she should try. A humanity sprite might interact somehow with the voices she heard.

"Maybe. It still worries me, though. That the abyss might have its fingers in you."

"I understand. Thinking about it... it scares me, too." This, at least, Raven had no need to lie about. The idea that the voices she heard might be the sign of some abyssal touch frightened her more than anything she had ever known.

"Well?" Raven asked, as she finished buckling on the armor. Oscar shook his head with a chuckle.

"Looks ridiculous. I suppose that's a good thing - wouldn't want you to feel to comfortable as one of Seath's channelers."

"Think we should head back?" Raven asked, turning back towards the bonfire.

"Let's leave a note so Havel knows where we went. Plenty of paper around," Oscar said. Raven nodded, then grabbed a quill from one of the study desks nearby.

Havel, as it turned out, had already made his way to central Anor Londo, as Raven and Oscar materialized into a heated argument between the archbishop and the Darkmoon Knightess. And, with horror, Raven realized what it was about. The voices rose around her, teasing her until she could barely make out the words that were being spoken in the room. Despite that, she knew.

It was going to be Ornstein all over again.

You can't save him, Raven,a voice teased, barely audible amidst all of the other clamoring whispers which surrounded her, deafened her. Raven squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her Zweihander as she tried to block them out. It didn't help - if anything, closing her eyes seemed to encourage the whispers.

"Enough!" she shouted in desperation, and, miraculously, the whispers ceased. So did the argument between Havel and the darkmoon knightess, who turned to Raven.

"You would speak for this criminal?" she drawled, her tone conveying warning which seemed downright silly to Raven, who knew just how little of a threat the woman posed.

"I would," Raven told her, "He deserves a legitimate trial, done by combat in the lack of a court."

"You appoint yourself his champion, then? The law states that the accused may not fight for themselves if the crime in question was violent. Winning such an engagement only proves their ability to carry out the crime," the brass keeper said. Raven knew that was a lie. She had been in enough close scrapes with the law - in three separate kingdoms - to know that. Trial by combat was a universal right of the accused. The brass keeper was simply trying to save face, and attempt to find a fight she could win. How little she knew.

"So be it," Raven said, handing aside her Zweihander. "A fair duel, to the death. Use of armaments is restricted to matching weapon types -" Raven punctuated this by drawing her father's rapier, "and will commence as soon as possible in the courtyard in the stairs just yonder. No other persons may interfere." The darkmoon knightess looked taken aback, surprised at how official Raven was able to be. She had, in fact, used this exact method to escape punishment in both Carim and Astora - fighting for herself, of course - and successfully reduced the penalty for her crimes from hanging to exile. She had used the rapier before, in both of those settings. It was the standard weapon in an honor duel, after all.

"These terms are... acceptable," the darkmoon knightess said after a moment. "The duel will not be adjudicated, as no impartial judge is present. The engagement will proceed on the honor of the combatants." She gracefully walked up the stairs, Raven following behind her.

"This should be good," Siegmeyer commented behind her, "It's been too long since I've seen a good duel."

"I wish that the stakes were not so high as the life of a dear friend," Sieglinde commented - announcing her presence for the first time. Raven had been too distracted to notice that she had been present at the bonfire, and now that she was paying attention, she noticed that the party had gained another member - a woman in a furry white dress, with a face that didn't seem quite human, somehow. Likely the woman that Ornstein had sacrificed himself to save.

Raven tucked the information away, not allowing herself to be distracted. While she was confident in her skill, she expected the darkmoon knightess to be a formidable foe. She couldn't afford to be unfocused.

The party lined up at the entrance to the bonfire stairway as Raven and the brass keeper strode to the center of the coutyard, and bowed to signal the start of the duel. Raven's bow was earnest, respectful, but the darkmoon knightess bowed mockingly, exaggerating the motion incredibly. Raven chose to ignore it, and raised her sword.

Her opponent wasted no time, opening with a vicious lunge. Good form, Raven noted, but the telegraph was excessive. She casually deflected the blow to the side and countered with a quick slash across the knightess' chest. The woman's breastplate deflected the blow, as Raven had known it would, but she knew that the firekeeper would be shaken, now, having lost the first exchange so thoroughly. Raven stepped back out of measure before the knightess could react, and waited once again.

The keeper's next move was a feint, a telegraph for a slash from the left, followed by a quick flick of the wrist to slash from the right instead. Raven didn't bother to acknowledge the maneuver, instead performing a simple lunging riposte up the center which could counter a horizontal slash from either direction. Her blade caught the darkmoon knightess in the faceplate, just above the visor slit, and the extended blade caught the base of the keeper's own, preventing her from completing her own attack. As she registered the contact, the woman flinched backwards, and this time Raven chose to press her advantage. She allowed the blade of her rapier to deflect upwards off of the curvature of the keeper's helmet, before bringing it back down in a quick slash, which caught the keeper in the gap between her pauldron and breastplate. Raven changed the angle of the strike as it connected, performing a draw cut that sliced through the keeper's gambeson, making a small cut in the shoulder. Insignificant in terms of the combat objective, obviously - a small cut would hardly accomplish anything - but it was first blood, and that counted for something.

As Raven pulled back again, the keeper's posture seemed to shift - changing from a blind confidence to downright fear. Panicked, she counterattacked again with the same telegraphed lunge she had opened the match with. Raven performed a lunge of her own, deflecting the knightess' rapier off to one side, and slipping her own blade through the ornate guard wrap of the keeper's Estoc. Raven smiled as she flicked her wrist to the side, sending the blade spinning out of the knightess' grasp. The woman stumbled backwards in horror, realizing that she had just lost. Raven raised her own rapier for the finishing strike.

"Enough!" A voice boomed across the courtyard, bearing a pitch that didn't quite manage to indicate gender. Raven lowered her rapier.

"Lord Gwyndolin?" the darkmoon knightess asked, incredulous.

"Archbishop Havel is hereby pardoned of all crimes against Anor Londo. He stands innocent in the name of the law," Gwyndolin said, more softly this time. A flash of light revealed them - Raven couldn't even figure out gender with the person right in front of her - standing between the pair, in a white garment halfway between a dress and a robe. A massive gold crown covered Gwyndolin's head, including their eyes. The darkmoon knightess immediately dropped to one knee.

"It gladdens my heart to see so many fighting for my father's legacy - regardless of their backgrounds," Gwyndolin said, "And an old friend has recently given me some advice. I think it is time I showed you the truth of what is at stake."

As he spoke, the glorious golden light over Anor Londo vanished. It was like a lamp being extinguished, the transition between day and night. A curtain of blackness fell across the now-night sky, which bore neither moon nor stars. Various gasps sounded throughout the party - including one from Raven's own lips. None took the revelation as poorly as Solaire, however, who fell to his knees in shock. Gwyndolin looked at him.

"You who bears the crest of my brother - do not despair," Gwyndolin told him, striding over to place a hand on the warrior of sunlight's shoulder. "The sun you fight for may be gone - but it is not lost forever. The linking of the first flame may yet return it to its place. And such is your quest - to return the sun. To rescue light, and save hope. This is the truth of what is at stake. May you fight all the harder for it." Gwyndolin turned away, stepping towards Raven and meeting her eyes.

"You have another quest to complete. I believe you know it," Gwyndolin said simply, and Raven realized that she did.

"Darkroot - and the evil that lies beyond," she said softly. Gwyndolin nodded in confirmation.

"A friend has promised to open the path, but none can help you follow it. You must walk amidst the dark, and withstand that which has taken so many others. Hold tight to the pendant you wear, for it is the key to your victory. But when the time comes, do not hesitate to cast it away - for unless you do, it will also become your defeat. The time of your choosing will always be the correct one, so fret not over delay - although I suspect your mind cannot afford to tarry for much longer. Already it strains against the influence of Primeval Man."

"I feel it every moment," Raven whispered back. Surprisingly, Gwyndolin hugged her.

"Thank you for what you have yet to do," they said softly, against her ear, "for it has shown me that this world is worth saving." A tear rolled down Gwyndolin's cheek as they pulled away from the embrace, and the Darkmoon Knightess beside them looked shocked, almost mortified, that her master had done such a thing. Gwyndolin didn't seem finished, though.

"I have but one thing to aide you," Gwyndolin told her, before placing a ring in her palm. It was a simple thing, a pewter gray band with a signet on the face, of a bird, sitting as if perched. From the design, it appeared to be a rook - or maybe a raven. Raven looked up and smiled.

"Four there were, and four there shall be again. You cannot replace Ornstein. You should not try. You are your own knight, promoted on your own merit. Bear the mantle well... Captain." Raven's eyes widened as she realized what the ring meant - she had just been inducted as a knight of Gwyn. Gwyndolin nodded encouragingly, and turned, before vanishing in a blink of light. Reverently, Raven slid the ring onto her finger, replacing Fina's Ring of Favor - representation of a mantle that she had not earned. The gold band shattered as she slid it off, vanishing to dust, and she felt the energy it had granted vanish - for naught but a moment, when her new ring replaced it threefold. She gasped, and took a step experimentally. Her body seemed to react too fast, at almost twice the speed which it previously had. This would take some getting used to. Raven stepped over to Oscar.

"What was Gwyndolin talking about? He knighted you... a knight of Gwyn. And he hugged you. Why..." Raven cut him off with a gentle kiss.

"I'll explain when I get back. Right now... I'm not sure I understand it all myself. But I know what I have to do, or... where to start, at least." Raven turned to Havel. "Did you find my armor when you went back to the cave?"

"Well, yes... sort of. The plating is mostly intact, but the leather fastening - all of the things that actually hold the armor on you - were incinerated. The set can be repaired, but it could take weeks, or months. You're better off wearing a different set for whatever you need to do - and forgive me for saying this, but that channeler crap really doesn't suit you."

"I know," Raven said, "But I know where to get a decent set of plate. A man named Domnhall of Zena. He'll be somewhere in Lordran." At this moment, Tarkus, of all people, stepped forwards.

"I met him on my way through the depths during the scatter. He told me that he would be moving to Firelink Shrine to set up shop there. Something about wanting to be more readily available to undead travelers. He was selling a few sets of plate - including one based on the iron golem in Sen's Fortress, of all things. I'm sure that he'd have something to fit you."

"I'm sure he will," Raven responded.

Domnhall's idea of being readily available was, as always, rather off. He sat on one of the underbridge supports for the Undead Burg Sewer pathway, requiring a running jump and a lot of tiptoing around pillars and ledges to reach. Raven almost fell several times, due to the overreaction created by the Rook Ring, as she had taken to calling it, but she did make it over to where he sat.

"Aye siwmae," Raven said, sitting down across from him.

"And a good day to you! My, is it good to see a familiar face," Domnhall exclaimed, his demeanor growing in cheer visible even through his odd helmet. "I was worried you had gone hollow in the asylum. Terribly sorry about Aran, by the way. I woke up with a darksign only three days after you did. I left him at the nicest orphanage I could find - I'm sure he's fine. Tough kid, that one. Do you happen to know anything about the sun going out?"

"It's been an illusion for a long time," Raven said, "and the god holding it up finally decided to reveal the truth. I have my suspicions about why."

"Ah, yes. Your guardian angel. You know, he stopped by here earlier. Commissioned a set of armor for you, paid for in full. Said that it should be worthy of a knight of Gwyn... not that I'd be willing to do any less, for an old friend."

"I don't suppose you'd be able to tell me who this guardian angel is?" Raven asked.

"Afraid not. He swore me to silence, you see, until you were able to name him yourself - and do so for certain, not just on a chance guess. I'm sure you'll meet him soon enough."

"I'm sure I will. Let's see this armor, then."

Domnhall wasted no time in reaching into a bottomless box, extracting one of the most ornate sets of plate Raven had ever seen. Set in black and silver, the plate had multiple layers stacked on top of each other reminiscent of a feather pattern, and the pauldrons were accented with actual feathers belonging to some sort of rook. The armor boasted a plate mail skirt which was also covered over by feathers, and the other plating - from gauntlets down to greaves - bore the same layered pattern, black highlighted with silver, as the breastplate. This was all very impressive, but Raven gasped in wonder when Domnhall brought out the helmet. Worked in layer upon layer was a raven's head helmet, done in a similar style to Ornstein's lion visage, complete with silver plumage off the top of the helmet.

"Domnhall, this is incredible! Thank you."

"Any time! Go ahead and put it on on the far side of the pillar. I won't peek, I promise. But be sure to give me a look before you set off on whatever grand adventure you've planned next, will you?" Raven nodded, picking up the set of armor and stepping to the far side of the pillar.

It took her almost a full twenty minutes to don the armor. There were so many complicated interlocking pieces to put on that it took her several attempts to get it all right. But eventually, she managed to get it all on, and found herself even more impressed than before. The interlocking layers weren't fixed metal - they were all hinged, allowing her movement in the armor as free as cloth. The set felt nearly weightless, too - a combination of the two rings she wore, undoubtedly, but also a testament to the fine craftsmanship. She held off on the helmet, before stepping back around the pillar to give Domnhall a look.

"It fits you beautifully," Domnhall told her, "And you wear it well. Who knew that some rogue off the city streets would be able to pull off the look of an elite knight-captain?" Raven joined in as Domnhall let out a mirthful laugh. "Well, I suppose that will be all for now, then. You've got a quest of some sort to complete, I'm sure. Do stop by and visit some time!"

"Thank you, Domnhall. I'll be sure to," Raven said. As she turned away, she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and realized that the whispers hadn't bothered her once during her entire interaction with the man. She wasn't surprised - his cheery attitude had driven her gloom and fears away many times in the past. For the first time in a long while, she wore a smile as she slipped the helmet over her head and snapped it into place, before settling her Zweihander on her shoulder and making for Oolacile.

AN: If you feel so inclined, leave a review. Does it seem odd to have Raven knighted largely for deeds which she has yet to perform? I'm not sure. This needed to happen at some point for a scene coming up in a few chapters, but I'm not sure if this was the place to put it. Let me know. The next chapter might be uploaded within a little bit too - it's the culmination of a lot of work that I've been setting up, as well as months of choreography.