AN: Once again, I have taken way longer than I ought to to get a chapter posted. Fanfiction kinda screwed me over here, failing to save the chapter so many times that I lost count. After rewriting the same text for the fifth or sixth time, and still having it not save, I just sort of gave up, and it took me this long to find the motivation to try again. The original plan was to have this chapter be a part of the previous chapter, but it would never in a million years upload successfully if I left it at a 20K word length. I wound up shortening the original choreography I had because of rewriting concerns, so it isn't quite as long as it was, but I feel like this ending is more moving than the original. I might release the more classic confrontation at some point if people ask for it, but for now, this is what you get.

Chapter 25: Humanity

As Raven looked out over the ruins of Oolacile, she could tell that it had once been a beautiful city. The architecture was incredibly intricate, with multi-tiered towers rising up from the ground. Only, now, there was no ground - only the black void of the abyss below, an ugly chasm. The towering structures, which were interconnected by interlocking bridges, had sunken down at different rates, leaving some bridges which hung out over empty air, and others which connected, by coincidence, to different buildings or floors than they previously had. Through that mess, Raven needed to find a way down into the void - and jumping wasn't an option that she was willing to consider. She simply didn't have the extra humanity to spare.

Raven stepped off of a long, narrow staircase to be immediately charged by three corrupted citizens with too-long arms and bloated heads. Raven casually swung Artorias' greatsword in a wide arc, decapitating two of them. The third was further behind, and reached her just behind the stroke. Raven pivoted to bring her foot up behind her in a kick, stunning the thing momentarily before bring the greatsword around again, slashing downwards at an angle and cutting the creature in two. The extra weight behind the blade, while not too much to be manageable, gave the sword much more momentum to allow things like that. It was a shame she couldn't keep the thing. With the landing cleared, Raven glanced around to find a path forwards, only to realize that there wasn't one. Two of the bridges exiting the platform ended in open air three or four feet out, while the last intersected with a sheer wall. Raven saw a window - or, potentially, a disconnected doorway - about half a story down, and a distance off to the right. Jumping the gap would be possible, but risky. Raven tossed the greatsword down first, before taking a running jump to clear the distance - about ten feet - and calculated the fall perfectly, landing in a roll just inside the doorway. She snatched up the greatsword as she came to her feet, face to face with another two bloatheads. She sidestepped a swipe from one, before cutting it down just as the other's blow caught her in the shoulder. The thing hit hard, despite being unarmed, and Raven grunted, spinning with the impact to lessen the blow before spinning into a thrust through the creature's midsection. The thing burst into flames around the blade, and she quickly swept the greatsword to one side, flicking the blood off, before shouldering it and moving on.

She got lucky, with the building having three full floors of intact staircases leading down. The fourth was blocked by an internal pillar which had collapsed on top of it, blocking all but a square foot of the bottom doorway. Raven moved over to another doorway and looked for options. A solid landing was an easy jump away about thirty feet down. That was just a bit too far for Raven to risk - she didn't want to waste a chunk of her estus fixing broken legs. She checked the other of the two doorways. There was nothing in jumping reach - with the exception of a doorway on the side of the building, two floors down and to the left. The building was canted slightly, so Raven hopped a short distance out of the doorway, hitting the wall a few feet down and sliding down the steep slope until her heels caught the lip of the doorway, and she tossed her weight backwards with as much force as she could generate, tipping herself onto her back and into the building. Unfortunately, a bloathead was waiting for her in the room, and she immediately took a foot to the chest, feeling ribs crack, before she could react. Raven brought the greatsword up from the ground to kill the bloathead below, before groaning and rolling to her feet. She began to reach for her estus flask, then hesitated. The jump that was just a bit too far before would be possible now, but the landing would hurt badly. Better to save the estus a few moments. She lined up with the doorway on the far side of the building - close enough to the one that existed two floors higher up - and took a running jump.

Even landing in a roll to dampen the impact, the fall hurt like hell. Raven staggered to her feet, knowing that her right leg was probably still broken anyways, and realized that she had misjudged the distance. Oh, well. It wasn't anything a swallow of estus couldn't fix - just something of a bother that she'd have to use so much so soon. She pulled her flask from her hip, unstopped it, and took a long swallow. The liquid fire surged through her, reknitting muscle and bone in her chest, leg, and shoulder. She slipped the flask back into its pouch at her hip, before assessing her surroundings.

Based on the grass growing up between tiles on the landings, as well as just how close the swirling blackness of the abyss was below the platform, Raven figured that this landing must have been near ground level. There was an entrance to a building off to one side, as well as a staircase wrapping around its exterior, but neither of them seemed as if they would be much help - both led up, not down. There was, however, a path on the far side of the landing which led to a massive palace - something which might well have a basement. There were several bloatheads carrying staves along the walkway, and Raven recognized them immediately for what they were - sorcerers. She summoned her pyromancy flame in her left hand and tossed a disc of flames, slicing them apart preemptively and clearing the way forward. Raven crossed the landing and stepped into the palace.

As she crossed the threshold, she was immediately assaulted by a wave of whispers - more coherent than she had ever heard them, save when they bore the will of Artorias. That wasn't what was happening now. This was the will of the abyss itself made manifest.

"Yes... that's right. Come to us. It has to happen eventually... once we touch you, there's no going back. You are ours. You will forever be ours." Raven shook her head, trying to focus as she heard the clinking of chains - created by a monstrosity which was entering the massive hall from the other side. The thing seemed to once be a man, but was now just a swollen, misshapen blob with a pair of legs. Chains wrapped around and draped off the thing, the far ends of some of which were attached to massive chunks of rock. Emerging from what Raven assumed was the blob's head was a massive wooden spike, easily ten feet long. Raven forced the voices away, and raised Artorias' greatsword as it charged her. She sidestepped the thrust with the massive head spike, using the greatsword to deflect it further to the side and knock the creature off balance - only to get caught by one of the boulders attached to the creature on chains as it stumbled and spun to the side. The thing hit hard, and Raven felt ribs crack - again - under her breastplate, before being thrown to the ground. She quickly snatched up the greatsword and rolled onto her feet as the beast stumbled around for another lunge. Raven again sidestepped, but instead of using the greatsword to deflect the momentum of the creature slashed through one of the chained rocks, removing it as a hazard.

Unfortunately, the thing that Raven was fighting had a decent turning radius, and managed to spin around nearly on the spot when it realized it had missed her - sending the second of three rocks smashing into her side before the massive wooden spike also caught her, and sent her flying once again. She focused on holding onto the greatsword as she slammed into a pillar, and more pain flashed through her as she ricocheted off and bounced along the ground. She stumbled to her feet just as the creature approached her on a third charge - and decided not to sidestep at all, instead lunging forwards with Artorias' greatsword to trade hits. She hoped that the spike wouldn't punch through her armor. Sure enough, the creature ran itself through on Artorias' greatsword while the spike glanced sideways against Raven's breastplate, causing another flash of pain but not impaling her outright. The creature skidded to a stop against Raven, who took a shaky step backwards as she withdrew the greatsword, allowing the creature to fall to the ground, dead. Raven realized just how injured she was as she nearly fell over trying to withdraw the greatsword, and used it to prop herself up as she reached for her Estus.

She drank it all, and the pain still didn't go away completely, but she did manage to steady herself for the moment. Raven stepped forwards to assess the room, and...

Nothing. She realized with a start that she was waiting for the whispers to provide some input, whether it be useful information as was so rarely given, or the simple mocking and goading that they normally provided. Raven shook her head and moved forward, heading to the only other door in the room - the one that blobbish creature had emerged from. As she stepped across the doorway's threshhold, the whispers rushed back in force once again - beckoning, calling. Shadows seemed to lengthen around her, unnaturally so, as neat brick and stonework gave way to smooth and weathered, but very natural, stone formations. Ten feet in front of her, the tunnel swelled into a wide cavern, swallowing light so efficiently that walls which couldn't be further than ten feet away vanished into palpable shadow. Beneath her feet, a square tile carved with sigils suddenly burned to life, casting a pale blue light which was quickly swallowed by the void, and Raven felt herself descend into the blackness - a darkness so absolute that she could not see her hand in front of her face.

You're almost there, the whispers said, a mixture of encouragement and taunting which Raven found much more disturbing than anything they had said before. Face your end...

The magical lift stopped, reaching the bottom of the path. Light did not increase, so Raven willed her pyromancy flame to appear in her left hand, casting light on her surroundings, and suppressed a shudder when she felt the whispers surge greater still. She refused to look at the flame itself, fearing what she might see of the abyss within it, and instead looked past it, into the darkness.

As soon as she did, she realized that it would have been better for her sanity had she not - the disturbing sight of unnatural, beady red eyes growing from sludge-blackened stone burned its way into her mind, so that she could not expunge it. The whispers simply laughed now - no words to their taunting could be heard any longer. Raven took a hesitant step forwards, and flinched as her boot squelched into abyssal slime. Gritting her teeth, she took another, and then a third, trying to convince her mind that it was nothing more than thick mud. She failed miserably, and cringed internally with every squelching step she took - although she did manage to suppress the physical reaction.

The sickly firelight shone over bloated form after bloated form, but they seemed not to care about her any more than the giant humanity sprites which floated aimlessly, mindlessly through the caverns. She feared it was because they could no longer distinguish her from each other - that the abyss taking hold within her had progressed that far. She shuddered at the thought, but shook it off, continuing forwards. And then the flame illuminated something very out of place - a cat. It was much larger than a normal housecat, in fact as large as a wolf, squatting upon the ground. Raven started towards it, and it vanished - reappearing right at the edge of her illuminated area. It was somewhat disconcerting, but Raven knew that this cat was trying to show her something. So she followed the cat into the darkness. It led her off of a ledge to the safe ground below, and back through caverns beneath until it disappeared right next to a solid wall. Raven looked around, and saw nothing of note - more eerie cave walls, eyes. Unless... she raised her pyromancy flame to the wall, and it shimmered slightly, as if not solid. Then Raven stepped forwards, right through the illusion. A narrow tunnel opened forwards into a wide cave - brighter than it should have been, at least down here. As Raven moved into the room, she discovered why.

A golden ring of sigils illuminated the room from its far edge, protecting a wounded wolf lying under a familiar-looking greatshield. Raven knew it on sight due to its distinct patterning matching the armor of Artorias, and the greatsword she now held, to a tee. The shield seemed to be glowing faintly, resonating with the runic circle. However, its surface was also blackened and tarnished, indicating that the protection was not foolproof - the shield and eventually the wolf it was protecting would eventually succumb to the abyss. Around the circle, more of those oversized humanity sprites from earlier pressed inwards, seeming to strain against an invisible barrier created by the runes. The wolf within seemed to be cowering away from them, afraid. So Raven stepped forwards, slashing them apart with Artorias' greatsword. They seemed only semi-solid, but after a few cuts they dissipated and did not reform. The wolf looked up, and howled, before crawling out from under the greatshield and stumbling to Raven's side, nosing up to lick the palm of her hand.

In spite of everything - the whispers, the darkness, the slime coating nearly every surface down here, all dampening the mood - Raven laughed. The abyss seemed to rebel, to push back against the outward sign of joy, but Raven didn't care, stroking the wolf vigorously for a moment as it - he, Raven realized - panted with his tongue hanging out. Unfortunately, Raven had not entered the abyss without purpose, and her moment of friendship with this lost wolf - probably Artorias' pet, the legendary wolf Sif in his youth, based on the shield - had to end. Raven allowed her hand to fall, and nodded to Sif, who bounded out of the cavern, back towards the surface and towards freedom.

Raven noticed she had arrived just in time, as the glow of the shield's protection faded, the runic circle vanishing. The Greatshield of Artorias was now nothing more than a hunk of tainted metal. Raven ignored it, stepping forwards to the edge of the cliff and staring out into the void beyond. There was nothing but blackness, but Raven thought she saw red eyes, looming in the distance. Then, without warning, an eye covered hand - the same one from Darkroot - reached out and snatched her, dragging her into the black.

"Raven, it's time to wake up. We'll miss the festival." Raven blinked awake to her father leaning over her bed, his kindly smile radiant as ever. Raven sat up with a start - her father had put off his black, dreary robes of the Velkan priesthood in exchange for a deep red overcoat, dark purple shirt and fine woolen trousers. The day of summer's height, a day of rejoicing, had no need of his duty, although he would surely be busy tomorrow.

"Come on, Aran's already dressed!" her father said jovially, and Raven blinked again. This all seemed... wrong, somehow. Surreal, perfect, but not quite right. Raven pushed the feeling out of her mind as she swung her legs out of bed.

"What time is it?" Raven asked, concern slipping into her voice.

"Oh, only about nine in the morning. We'll have plenty of time - provided you hurry with getting ready, that is," her father said with a laugh and a grin, before exiting the bedroom. Raven quickly slipped over to the wardrobe, picking out an outfit. She was immediately drawn to the most boyish clothing hanging there, before realising what she was doing and shaking her head. That was something to be worn for utility and work, not on a day like today. She grabbed a violet silk dress instead, and laid it out on her bed while she filled a washbasin for her hair. The water system in Carim was, as far as she could tell, powered by magic. No need for manual pumping or anything of the sort. Simply turn a knob and water would flow out on demand. She quickly washed out her hair, before brushing it smooth and going back to the bedroom to put on the dress. As she pulled her nightgown off, she realized that a broken fragment of a pendant hung around her neck - twisted and gnarled, yet still beautiful in its reds, blues and purples, in wrapping, twisting, spiraling patterns across the material's surface. That sense of wrongness stirred in her mind again as she realized that she couldn't recall ever owning such a thing, or a reason why she would have kept it - but she couldn't bring herself to take it off. Shaking her head, she put on the dress and went downstairs, giving a start when she saw Aran.

Her brother was incredibly handsome, with neat, close-cropped blonde hair, and a deep brown coat over a dazzling blue tunic.

"Good morning!" he said, simply but joyfully, and something in Raven again rebelled at the simplicity of it all. She felt as though seeing her brother was a momentous occasion, as if it had been months or years since their last meeting. But Raven could remember seeing him just last night, before she had gone to bed. Knowing this, she replied in kind - simple words, as if it was something she said every day - which, in fact, it was.

"Morning." She smiled gently. Her father walked back into the living room and froze.

"Raven! When I said hurry, I didn't mean that quickly! I don't think I've ever seen you take less than a full half hour to get ready. That was... ten minutes, at most? What's gotten into you?"

Raven realized with a start that it was true. She had prepped for the morning at record pace, without ever noting that it was out of the ordinary. She shrugged, and simply responded, "Guess I'm just excited."

"Well," her father said with a chuckle, "I suppose so. Your mother is already at the keep. Shall we?" Raven nodded, and the three of them walked out the door and onto the street.

The cobbles were bustling with foot traffic, to a man well-dressed as could be expected from commoners and merchants, with streamers fluttering in the wind, dancing and singing on every street corner, and here and there a more advanced performer such as a juggler or floutist. Music filled the streets, each performer with their own song but each song somehow melding into one massive, beautiful melody spanning the entire city. Only one day in the year could the city of Carim be seen this busy, and to top it all off, in an hour or so the Festival of a Thousand Years would be starting, celebrating a millennia since Carim's founding shortly after the False Dark. The Imara household had been invited to a feast with King Roedrick and several other members of nobility and clergy. Raven pushed through the crowd with her father and Aran, stopping to buy a candied apple on the way.

"Bit early in the morning to be having dessert, Raven," her father commented sternly, and Raven pointedly took a bite of the candied apple.

"Father, it's Summer's Height festival! Surely you'll allow it this once?" Ethan sighed.

"Fine. Just the once - and only because your mother can't see you. She'd have a fit if she found out." Raven laughed and took another bite.

The ten minute walk to the keep was increased to nearly half an hour due to the density of crowds in the streets. When they arrived, however, the sight was nothing short of astonishing. The normally plain stone keep had been decorated with flowering vines across all of the walls and gates, banners and flags fluttering in the gentle breeze as they adorned poles set up specifically for the occasion. None of that even came close to the magical images which had been created around the keep - figures of knights valiantly dueling demons and monsters, their armor ranging from the familiar, iconic designs of the knights of Gwyn to Astoran Elite guard. One particular image bothered Raven - a knight in intricate black armor, patterned after some sort of bird, facing down a many-eyed beast, wielding a weathered, beaten greatsword which looked to have seen a few too many battles since its last trip to the smithy. It just seemed... familiar, somehow, without being quantifiable as a tale she had heard before. Children all around the keep watched in awe, cheering every time a knight landed a blow against a dragon, (drake, Raven corrected herself without really understanding where the knowledge came from) and gasping in fear when a Taurus Demon here or some monster that didn't actually exist there landed a blow on a knight in return. Raven found herself oddly disturbed by her knowledge, realizing that there was no reason for her to know that one creature was a Capra Demon and that another just wasn't real. She tore her gaze away from them as a guard checked them off on the list and ushered them inside.

The entrance hall wasn't quite packed, with noble guests in fine clothes milling about, dancing to slow music, and making conversation. Raven's mother met them at the door.

"There you three are. I wasn't expecting you for another hour, knowing Raven," she said, and Raven's father smiled.

"You wouldn't believe this, but we were out the door within ten minutes of me waking her up. Have you ever seen her get ready so fast?" the pair laughed, and Raven's father led Aran through the crowd. She was old enough now that she would be allowed to mingle with other guests - and, although it had never been spoken aloud by either of them, at least in regard to these parties, hopefully find an eligible suitor. She was 15, two years past when most noble ladies were betrothed, and her father said that if she didn't pick someone by the time she turned 16 he would have to arrange a marriage, as much as he didn't want to. That eventuality was something she would like to avoid as well, and so she did her best to keep an eye out for... anyone interesting.

"Raven!" A voice called behind her, with some urgency. Raven spun around to find herself face to face with a young man, in his early or mid twenties, with a well groomed short beard, short, matted brown hair which somehow managed to look both well-groomed and untouched at the same time, and deep hazel green eyes. Familiarity seemed to stir within Raven despite this man being a complete stranger to her.

"I'm sorry," she said as she met his gaze, "Do I know you?"

"Yes and no," the man said after some hesitation, "Look, that's not important right now. What is important is that none of this is real."

"What? That's..." Raven trailed off. Crazy didn't even begin to describe it. This was her life, and had been for fifteen years. How was it not real?

"Crazy?" the man asks, "But is it? Just think about it. Outside - those magical images, all of the knights fighting dragons - excuse me, drakes, none of them had forelimbs, and assortments of other monsters? You put a name to over half of them, right? And knew that the fictional ones didn't exist definitively?" Raven found herself nodding hesitantly, despite not wanting to believe it.

"Then there's just that sense of wrongness that you keep feeling - like your brother, for example, that sense you hadn't seen him in months. It's because you haven't. Not in real life. And your father... well, I don't want to distress you, but he's dead. You had that feeling about him, too, right?" Raven gasped and stumbled backwards, shaking her head.

"No. This is real. It has to be." She didn't understand why she was so distraught - she should have just dismissed this stranger as crazy and moved on. But, for whatever strange reason, she couldn't. She didn't believe him, but she couldn't quite manage to deny him outright and dismiss him.

"I'm sorry, Raven. It isn't. You marched to face the abyss in my stead, and it... it trapped you, in this fantasy. In a fantasy where neither you nor your father fell to the undead curse. Try... try to remember."

And in that moment, Raven did remember, three years of alternate memories flashing into her mind. She stared at the man who she now knew to be Artorias, tears trailing down her cheeks.

"Why?" The word came out small, with the quavering tone of someone in the throes of sorrow.

"Duty, Raven. Don't think I didn't notice the ring you wore - still wear, in the real world. A knight's ring. Four there were, and four there shall be again... Ornstein died. You said as much. He, uh... he had a saying that he was fond of. 'Death is lighter than a feather, duty heavier than a mountain.' Death, like a feather, is easy to take up, to grasp... but in the end, pointless. Duty, on the other hand, can be a near-impossible load to bear... but it's just as hard to set down as it is to carry, just as a mountain on your shoulders. You have your duty, Raven, the heaviest I've seen. You've been given the chance to set it down, and if you do, I won't blame you. You could live out your life in a moment, here, in this fantasy. You would be happy. But in the end..."

"I'll have failed, and may as well be dead. I understand." Raven bit her lip, then continued, "Gwyndolin told me something, when he gave me the ring. He said, '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.' It's time." With quivering fingers, Raven reached to the pendant around her neck.

"I'm sorry, father... mother. Aran. I wish I could stay." With tears streaming down her face, she ripped the pendant from her neck and tossed it aside. The world around her seemed to warp and stretch, becoming faded.

"Good luck... captain." Artorias nodded firmly to her as everything went black.

Unimaginable pain coursed through her, as if her very soul was being ripped apart. The whispers were wordless screams, howling, tearing at her life's essence with their piercing sounds. And then, abruptly, it all vanished. The pain, the whispers, everything. Raven found herself standing in a circle, illuminated by ghastly purple light, with bones strewn across the ground. And in the center of the ring stood the creature she had come for. Primeval Man... Manus, his name was. Raven felt that the abyss had somehow provided it, a final parting gift.

"So... you have come." The booming voice, with the same ethereal quality as the whispers, sounded from Manus.

"Just as you wanted, right?" Raven asked, looking up. Manus spun towards her with a growl.

"As I wanted... No. I gave you happiness... a life without your curse... while taking nothing in return. But you rejected it! And now... now you'll pay the price."

"I've been offered freedom from the undead curse once before - and then, just as now, I was reminded by circumstance that duty must come before my own happiness. Thank you for showing me what could be. But I'm afraid that what could be and what is... they simply do not align." Raven raised Artorias' greatsword to deflect a strike from Manus' massive left hand. The blow sent Raven stumbling, and she brought the blade around to her other side as a counterweight in order to regain her balance. Raven quickly brought the sword around in a full arc to slash at Manus' hand, which had slammed palm down into the ground. The blade bounced off the black carapace of the hand with a resounding crack, sending Raven stumbling, and moments later a swipe from Manus' catalyst caught her in the back, sending her sprawling. Manus simply chuckled as she scrambled to her feet, snatching Artorias' greatsword off the ground and raising it towards the beast who was once a man.

"You wield a weapon doomed for failure," Manus taunted, "Cursed by the abyss as it has been. Such a blade cannot hurt me." With a cry of fury, Raven leaped forwards in a somersault, bringing the greatsword down upon Manus much as Artorias himself had done during their fight, only to have it recoil harshly as it struck Manus' knee. Airborne as Raven was, she was tossed backwards by the force, leaving her sprawling and sending the greatsword skittering across the stone floor.

Somehow, Manus was correct - Artorias' greatsword couldn't harm him. And with her Zweihander shattered, her pyromancies tainted by the abyss, and Lifedrain originating from it, she had only one option left - her father's rapier. She was still wearing it, more as a memento and a reminder than as a weapon, but the blade was sharp all the same. But how would she fight a monster, a creature from the abyss as large as this one, with a duelist's blade? She supposed she was about to find out. As Manus stomped forwards, Raven stumbled to her feet and drew the rapier with a flourish - inciting a laugh from Manus, who clearly had the same expectation about a rapier's efficiency as she did. Raven stood and faced Manus determinedly as he stomped forwards once again, before nimbly hopping to one side just as Manus slammed his massive hand down. Raven quickly retaliated, stabbing the back of his hand, and unlike Artorias' greatsword, it actually penetrated. Raven quickly withdrew the rapier as Manus pulled his hand backwards to avoid snapping the blade from the strain. She examined the tip of the rapier, finding purplish-black goo that was far too viscous to be blood coating it. That ruled out death by a thousand cuts or the like... which meant that Raven had only one real option, and it wasn't going to be easy. She sprinted towards Manus, ducking under another swipe from the massive catalyst he wielded before spinning away from one of the dark beads he had fired. As she reached the feet of the monster, she took a swipe at his right ankle - a quick slash with the tip of the rapier, not intended to do any real damage, although it did cut a thin line in Manus' twisted flesh. Raven skidded to a halt on the far side of Manus and kicked backwards, hopping off the ground in a reverse leap. Manus spun just as Raven got airborne to take a swipe at her, and as his arm swept by she grabbed it with her empty left hand.

The sudden acceleration jerked her sideways unpleasantly, but Raven managed to hold onto a knot on Manus' arm as it swung around. The titan overswung and stopped, trying to find where Raven had gone, as she desperately held onto the knot of twisted flesh that she had latched onto. Unfortunately, as corrupted as Manus was, he wasn't stupid. It took him about half a second to realize where Raven was - but that half second was precious time she gained. Time enough to heave herself up off of the knot on the upper arm and onto Manus' shoulder, where she grabbed one of the many horns to stabilize herself just as the creature began flailing wildly in an attempt to shake her off. As Raven clung to her selected horn, she used her other hand to begin stabbing at Manus' eyes. Most of the attacks missed, being impossible to stabilize amidst being tossed about. Her fourth attempt finally connected with an eye, generating a howl of pain and rage, and causing Manus to thrash even more violently than he previously had. He stumbled into the edge of the magic circle outlined by runes, and abruptly recoiled as if rebounding off of some invisible wall - probably some form of magic Artorias had placed in a last-ditch effort to contain what he could not destroy.

Regardless of the cause, the impact spelled disaster for Raven, tossing her free from her perch on Manus' shoulder and sending her tumbling to the ground. She had to scramble up to avoid being crushed by a slam of Manus' catalyst, and reeled backwards just in time to avoid the burst of abyssal energy that had emitted from the impact. She knew better than to try what she had just attempted a second time - there was simply no way that Manus was going to allow the same trick to work twice. She wracked her brain - she had no bottomless box on her, no other weapons. The rapier was useless from the ground - there was no way Raven could inflict significant enough damage from the ground. Artorias' greatsword was also useless, because of a curse, and Raven didn't know the first thing about breaking curses - although she doubted she had the necessary materials anyways. Which left... what? The art of lifedrain, which she had stumbled upon in anger, was a subversion of the abyss. Using it down here was asking for trouble as much as casting a black flame - which also eliminated her pyromancy as an alternative... Or did it? Raven allowed the flame to flicker to life in her palm. Its color was not sickly as it had been, but a deep, pure orange. Dropping the pendant, rejecting the abyss, had allowed her to use it. And so she did the only thing she could - tossed a disc of flame straight at Manus' neck. She only had enough strength for one - attempting more would be beyond her. But one well-placed spell would be enough to take the corrupted form of primeval man's head clean off. The disc Raven threw was well placed.

To her horror, Manus batted the projectile aside with his catalyst, not even breaking stride as he charged towards her. Raven knew that she had no other options - it was lifedrain or the bonfire. But lifedrain would accept the whispers back into herself, strip away every bit of progress Raven had made. She could kill the creature in front of her - but at the cost of becoming just like him.

And then, one final, fleeting idea formed in Raven's mind. The abyss was humanity corrupted, a concentration of all of the worst parts of the dark soul. Lifedrain was about taking essence, stealing away the most vital thing to a creature. It was of the abyss.

What if, instead of using lifedrain to take, Raven used it to give? To put back all of the aspects the corruption of the abyss was missing - love, and hope to balance hate and despair. The memories Manus had showed Raven - a perfect life - went first. Her memories of her father, her mother, her brother. Then her friends - all of the people she had met on this journey. Kirk, Ornstein, Havel, Solaire, Tarkus... and Oscar. And just as Manus brought his catalyst down one last time, Raven raised her hand - not in desperation, but in confidence, willing every bit of life she had to flow outwards from it. A brilliant green light flooded forth, vibrant, full of life - and stopped the catalyst dead in the air. Manus shrieked and recoiled from the light which Raven pushed forth, seeming to grow smaller - and then doing so in truth - shrinking, warping and changing - as the beast before her became a man.

Manus was old. Long, unkempt, grey hair, a shaggy gray beard, and wrinkled, droopy skin made for one of the oldest men Raven had ever seen alive. And with a frail, shaky hand, Manus reached towards Raven. His voice came out not as a growling boom, but as a quiet, tired rasp.

"Please... let me rest. Let me rest as I did before." In that moment, Raven lowered her hand, allowing the energy flowing out from her to fade, retreating back to her - because she knew in that moment that for this man, the only gift she could grant was neither life, love, nor hope. Humanity, though impure, had already failed him once. Raven had won back her own - the silence was proof enough of that - but Manus had parted ways with his. Even faced with the chance to reclaim it, he no longer wanted to, knowing the darkness humanity contained. And so, the gift she could grant was not completed humanity, but her blade. She raised her father's rapier, and in a flash of steel - quick, painless - it was over. And as the life faded from Manus' eyes, two words hung whispered on his lips.

"Thank you."