AN: Don't really have much to say about this one. It's something of a break before the action of the final act picks up.

Chapter 26: The Day of a Thousand Years

Raven wept.

Kneeling in the Chasm of the Abyss, with the corpse of the man who had given it birth, a horrible realization had hit her. Manus had been what pulled her backwards through time. With him dead, and the power of the abyss broken, there was no way to jump back into the present aside from living out the entire thousand years of existence between now and then.

Of course, there were things to be done. Artorias and Ciaran had to be hidden, their deaths faked - and Gough's did as well. The scaled down replica of Ornstein's spear which he had used in his last days had to be crafted, and Raven needed a new weapon as well. Raven was sure other problems would appear which needed attention - but that wouldn't nearly be enough to occupy her for all of that time. Not when she had people in the present - now the future - who she would miss dearly.

One thousand years in the past was one thousand years without Oscar.

And all the problems she had to deal with could be resolved in a matter of days.

"First things first," Raven said aloud, not sure who she was talking to, "I've got to get out of this chasm." That wouldn't be as hard as it could have been; the light-eating gloom in the massive cavern had vanished with Manus' death, and, at least at a glance, the vicious floating humanity sprites had done so as well. The bloatheads, corrupted denizens of Oolacile, remained, however, indicating that Raven's ascent would not be entirely without difficulty.

Upon further examination, the very first step appeared impossible; this area in which she had faced Manus was located beneath the rest of the chasm which she had explored, and there were sheer walls separating her from that area. She was trapped. And so, rather than panic, Raven simply sat down to wait. She presumed that Manus' death would have some visible effects in the township above, and eventually Artorias, or Ciaran, or someone would come to check on her.

After only a handful of minutes, Raven's expectations were confirmed by a sharp bark which echoed across the chasm. Raven looked up to see Sif standing at a ledge looking down at her.

"Hey, boy," she called up, "Don't suppose you could get me out of here yourself?" In response, Sif opened his mouth over the pit - and a medium-sized white bone dropped into the chasm, clattering to the ground at Raven's feet. She picked it up, and immediately felt the energy within it. It wasn't just any bone - it was a homeward bone. Raven looked up at the wolf looking down at her expectantly.

"You can get out of here on your own, right?" Raven asked, not expecting an answer, but to her shock, Sif's head bobbed up and down.

"Go find Artorias, boy," Raven instructed, "I'll find you." The wolf nodded again, and turned, bounding off towards the surface once again. Raven looked down, before snapping the bone Sif had dropped her. In a moment, a dizzying sensation washed over her as her vision went black. She blinked once, then twice, and her surroundings - very different than they had been a moment before - came into focus. She was at the bonfire in the upper township, which she had rested at briefly just after her battle with wolf knight himself was nowhere to be seen. Ciaran, however, leaned casually against the railing just on the far side of the balcony. Raven looked up.

"Well, well," she said, "You actually did it," the Lord's Blade said, clapping slowly. As Raven hefted herself up from the bonfire, Ciaran shook her head.

"If we're being honest, I've no liking for your kind - but Artorias is a dear friend of mine, and so I owe you a great deal. He's gone off to find some place to hide - something about history that I couldn't quite understand. You are truly from the future?"

"Nearly a thousand years from now," Raven replied, "And with the misfortune of having no way to return. I don't expect your pity or sympathy. Just that you follow my orders. In coming back here, I changed things, warped the past. It could be fine, but I've no guarantee that it wouldn't turn out worse this way than the way it originally did."

"And so anyone who matters, or can't keep a secret, needs to believe that Artorias died here. I know. He mentioned it."

"Did he mention that you also lose your life in this place?" Raven replied, to which Ciaran froze, staring at her.

"I don't know precisely when, but by the time I arrived in Lordran your legend ended with you taking your own life before the grave of your beloved. That still has to happen, too - or, at the very least, has to appear to have happened." After her moment of shock passed, Ciaran nodded thoughtfully.

"Faking my own death... now there's an interesting challenge. And to make it appear a suicide besides... hmm. I'll have to think about that one."

"Be sure you do," Raven said, before turning towards the coliseum, "Gough's still holed up in that tower of his, I presume?" Ciaran nodded briefly, before looking up.

"He's not supposed to leave either, is he?" she asked. Raven shook her head.

"I don't know. He isn't around when I'm from, but... he mostly gets forgotten about. I presume he locks himself away in that tower until it crumbles away beneath him, but I can't be certain."

"That makes things simple, then. If he just vanishes outright, without a trace, I doubt anyone will be concerned about it - not with all of the other more prevalent disasters about to be staged. And... what about you? The mysterious rook of time? Do you disappear as well?"

"That would be for the best," Raven replied, "And no legend can ever remember me. Artorias gave his life to destroy the abyss. No third parties involved."

"Understood," Ciaran replied, then looked up from her contemplation, "If we're looking for a place to stash ourselves away, I know of one where no one would ever think to look - but you won't like it." Raven sighed - it seemed that her adventures in Oolacile weren't quite over.

"I'll speak to Gough. You'll need to examine the location - a valley nestled on the far side of the Royal Wood. There's a nasty beast currently making that place its home, but I imagine that won't present terrible difficulty to you - will it?"

"What is it?" Raven asked, more resigned than curious.

"A dragon," Ciaran replied smugly.

"Of course it is."

Raven's journey across the royal wood was largely unopposed. The gardeners and stone sentries which had previously been corrupted by the abyss now appeared docile as they stood mindlessly staring into the distance. The Abyss Greatsword which had failed Raven against Manus was unlikely to suffer from the same curse in a fight against a dragon - a creature with an entirely unrelated nature.

The valley was wide, spacious, and - as Raven had discovered the hard way - extremely difficult to find. A rickety rope ladder ran down to its floor, while waterfalls spilled across it and down into an even deeper crag at its foot.

"You'll not want to hop down just yet," A voice announced from behind her. Raven turned to see Artorias - with a clean stump at his left shoulder rather than a shattered and ruined left arm - leaning casually on one of the narrow tunnel walls behind her. Sif panted at his feet.

"How'd you find me?" Raven asked, still focusing her attention on the valley below.

"I didn't - Sif did. He led me to you after bounding up out of the chasm of the abyss. I'm glad you managed to rescue him."

"Then he rescued me - found me a way out of the chasm once I had taken Manus down. Without a homeward bone, the drop into his pit was a one-way trip. Which reminds me - how did you get out?"

"I'm actually not sure," Artorias admitted, "The time from entering Oolacile until you rescued me from the Abyss is all a bit foggy."

"Ah. So, what were you saying about this valley?"

"Well, there's a dragon down there somewhere. The fact that you don't see him means that you'll probably be burned to a crisp before you spot him. Gough's going to try and pin him down with a greatarrow - it's the strategy we discussed if taking Kalameet down ever became necessary."

Raven nodded, before hefting Artorias' greatsword off her shoulder and handing it back to him.

"I believe this is yours," she said, and he looked down, shaking his head.

"That leaves you unarmed. You mean to fight a dragon bare-handed?"

"The rapier isn't ornamental," Raven replied, and he laughed.

"You can't beat a dragon with a weapon like that. Keep the sword for the moment, or find something else that's suitable."

"Oolacile will have an armory somewhere or another. Any idea where it is?" Artorias grinned.

"That's a thought. It was covered in the briefing I was given - I'll take you there, and you can take your pick."

The armory of Oolacile was underwhelming - racks of longswords, a few massive stone axes, replacements for the stone guardians outside, and a few scimitars and curved swords. Everything was either too small to do any serious damage to a dragon, or too large for Raven to wield effectively. Artorias frowned.

"I knew that the kingdom didn't have a huge military capacity, but this is downright disgraceful," the wolf knight commented. Raven nodded in agreement as she picked up a few of the weapons, weighing them in her hands before setting them back down. Most of the armaments available were horribly balanced on top of the rest of their shortcomings, and the few that weren't seemed almost flimsy. Then Raven had a thought, picking up a flanged mace. It was rather heavy - but on blunt style of weapon, that was an advantage, not a drawback. It seemed durable enough. A quick smack at one of the wooden racks revealed that it had the force to split it outright, and Raven smiled.

"This ought to do well enough," she said, hefting the mace. Artorias nodded.

"Nobody ever thought to try maces against dragons - but I suppose blunt impacts might just be the way to go. If you can crush and splinter their scales, you might send sharp fragments into the more delicate flesh beneath, and cause some serious damage."

"Then why didn't anyone try it?" Raven asked, to which Artorias laughed.

"Well, the issue was mainly stopping power. Against a big beast like a dragon, you want something that can put it down quickly. A mace would kill it well enough, sure - it would die of its injuries a handful of days after the battle. Most people would rather not have to wait that long."

"I have you to back me up, though - all I have to do is incapacitate it. Break a limb or two, maybe crush the tail, and Kalameet will be as good as helpless - you can step right up to it and hack away."

"If you're fast enough to avoid being trampled underfoot, that might just work," Artorias agreed.

"I'm plenty fast enough," Raven replied, "I beat you, after all."

Despite a lack of vision, Gough had no trouble finding his bow. He remembered where he had put it, as well as a quiver of arrows. He set one on the string as he heard the roar and flap of wings overhead. He had been instructed to shoot down a dragon - and those beasts made enough noise to pinpoint them even without his sight. He raised his bow in the direction of the wingbeats, listening, waiting. And as he was sure of the beast's path and speed, he picked a point where his arrow would intercept it, and let loose. A loud thwack of his bowstring, all too familiar, announced the firing of the projectile, which whistled through the air. A distant, fleshy thump followed by a deep, primal howl indicated that he had hit his target - and moments later, a distant crash announced Kalameet's crash to the ground. Gough chuckled, setting his bow aside. The dragon had been grounded - it was up to his friend now.

Raven and Artorias arrived back at the valley just in time to witness Kalameet plummeting down into it, a massive gouge sliced through his left wing. He was big, probably around 15 meters in length from snout to tail, and almost entirely black, save for the bony spines on his back, his claws, and his bright yellow eyes. There was a third eye in the center of his forehead, colored a deep, red-orange, which blinked open for but a moment as Kalameet struck the ground. The dragon hit the ground with a resounding crash, bouncing and skidding almost twice his body length - over 60 meters - before coming to a stop and stumbling to his feet. He looked around, dazed, to fix his gaze on the pair of knights standing before him, weapons at the ready. The black dragon didn't take it well, roaring and belching a gout of flame straight towards Raven. Artorias rolled to the right, Raven to the left, and the flames - sickly yellows and blacks - passed harmlessly between them, carving a charred path in the earth. Kalameet whipped his head around towards the larger of the targets, Artorias, as Raven sprinted towards him from the other side. Artorias brandished his greatsword, little more than a flourish but enough to cause Kalameet to hesitate for a moment, giving Raven enough time to catch up to the moving dragon. A swipe at Kalameet's rear right knee resulted in a loud crack as Raven slid past the leg and under the belly. Kalameet howled in pain, taking a brief step backwards, and Artorias used the opportunity to leap forwards, his blade aimed straight for Kalameet's head. However, a high-pitched, grating screech, accompanied by a red beam of light flashing upwards to meet the Wolf Knight, stopped him dead in the air, before hurling him back to the ground. Artorias groaned as he bounced and tumbled across the basin, while Raven ducked under Kalameet's belly to strike another leg.

This second strike, targeting the dragon's rear left knee, was not nearly as solid or as powerful as the first, and only succeeded in creating a small spiderweb crack along the scales beneath the impact. Kalameet jumped into the air, flapping his damaged wings twice, which allowed him to stall in the air but not to become fully airborne, and landed some twenty meters distant from Raven as he exhaled another gout of fire. Raven met the flames with her own stream of pyromancy, now free of the abyss and shining a pure, brilliant two streams of flame met somewhere between Raven and the dragon, fanning out into a radiant plume of mixed colors that set a massive patch of earth ablaze in a wide, scorched line drawn between Kalameet and Raven - but neither party was burned. Kalameet jumped forwards in the wake of his flames, hurtling towards Raven at incredible speed. Raven planted her feet, stepping into the charge, and redirected Kalameet's open jaws upwards with a rising strike from her mace which cracked against the dragon's head, snapping it upwards and causing him to skid to a stop above her. Raven brought her raised mace back downwards, striking Kalameet's rear left foot with another resounding crunch, and the dragon howled once again, stumbling and lurching to one side as one of its feet could no longer bear his weight.

Unfortunately, the black dragon didn't go down, instead sidestepping and sweeping Raven off of her feet with the edge of his right wing. Raven came up in a roll, but lost enough time for Kalameet to turn towards her again - and his forehead eye flicked open. Immediately, massive pain flashed through Raven's body as red light filled her vision, and she found herself hovering in the air, suspended by some invisible force. Desperate, Raven hurled her mace at the dragon, and, by luck as much as skill, struck him directly in his third eye. The phantom pain vanished as Raven dropped to the ground, while Kalameet recoiled with a horrible scream. Raven's mace clattered to the ground at her feet, and she scooped it up, rushing the dragon down and striking his weakened rear-left knee. This second strike folded the joint inwards with a horrible crunch, and the back end of the dragon, now unsupported, plopped to the ground just as Raven dove out of the way in a dodge roll. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Artorias stagger to his feet as Kalameet stumbled on his forelegs, attempting to face Raven. He had just managed to bring himself around when a hearty chop from the Wolf Knight's greatsword severed his head. Artorias let out a breath of relief. The dragon, severed head and all, dissolved into souls which rushed into Raven, replaced only with a small, black and orange ring which landed on the ground with a small ping. Raven bent over to inspect it, but was stopped by Artorias.

"Don't touch that," he told her, "It's black magic. Evil. I doubt you can destroy it, but... better to let it lie." Raven nodded, standing up, and set her mace down, lacking any sort of scabbard for it. She looked around.

"So," she commented, "This is where we'll hide. Cozy." The comment incited a chuckle from Artorias, who nodded.

"Ideally, we could build some sort of structure here rather than sitting in the open for the next thousand years - I have a feeling that after a half-hearted investigation, Gwyn's going to want to leave this place alone."

"You're not wrong," Raven told him, "But Gwyn will be out of the picture in... oh, fifty years or so. I've heard he attempted to link the fading flame. Give it a hundred, and Anor Londo will be all but abandoned - although an Iron Golem which we can't touch - again, to maintain the flow of time - will block our path up. There are a few things we need to do before we catch up to the present - we need to make a copy of Ornstein's spear on a human scale - something happened which caused him to shrink, and he needs a weapon. I'll need something as well - the mace works well enough, I suppose, but it just doesn't seem my style. An eastern blade, maybe a tachi, would work well in that regard. You'll also need to convince someone to make the armor I'm wearing, but we'll get to that much later."

"Anything else?" Artorias asked, looking up.

"Not really. Faking Ciaran and Gough's deaths, I suppose, although I suspect that's best left to her." The Wolf Knight nodded in agreement.

"I suppose we have a rather bland thousand years ahead of us," he posited, and Raven shook her head.

"We'll find things to do. Perhaps bid Lordran farewell for the time being, fight in the wars of the world outside. In disguise, of course. Or perhaps we'll study the First Flame, and discover a way to kindle it sustainably. Regardless, we'll find something to keep ourselves occupied. It'll only be the first century that's truly bland." Raven joined Artorias in gazing towards the sky, as she sat down.

"Perhaps we should start by borrowing a few bricks and boards from the township. I wouldn't notice, but I have a feeling the three of you might get awfully cold out here without some form of shelter."

Raven sighed. A thousand years was a long, long time. She'd be curious to see if she ever did get used to immortality.

AN: And here's the major timeskip. The next chapter will be back to present day, with most of the events in between implied rather than expressly stated. There may at some point be a spin-off story that details what Raven's knights did in this thousand-year time period, but at the moment it's not really relevant to the story other than to know it happened. The next chapter picks up the final act of the book - where I might start diving into alternate timelines, or set up the story to progress into a sequel set in Drangleic. I really haven't decided what the plan is quite yet. Either way, I'll see you in the next one - assuming I don't forget to write it for another six months.