Margit's POV

How long must I stand watch for Tarnished with too much gluttony for power? I stand here as a watchman, a protector of Stormveil. Although, I hold no interest in playing ward for this desolate castle. I stand here to find and kill any Tarnished pursuing a Great Rune. Long days pile on top of each other and the nights are cold. I must remain. Mother's golden throne must be safeguarded from filth seeking to usurp it. Oh, from whence do the Tarnished come? Their numbers are great. They all are the same. Meager lunatics that seek after prizes worth more than their lives. Godrick the Golden, what a mess you have become. How far you have fallen from the great tree of gold. Traitor. Golden fury courses through my accursed veins as I ponder upon the grotesque image of Godrick the Golden. His essence stains the lands of Limgrave. But who am I to speak? My Omen body is not worthy to stand near the Elden Throne that resides in Leyndell. Mother, when will thou return to reclaim thy rightful place?

The ghastly moon glimmers in the vast blackness of the sky like a miniscule diamond surrounded by a sea of coal. I block the bridge that leads up to the entrance of Stormveil. My eyes do not grow weary for duty spurs me onward. I have spent many, many weeks, months even, pacing back and forth this narrow bridge. Tarnished who wish to pursue demigods such as Starscourge Radahn or Malenia, Blade of Miquella will most surely perish underneath their might so I need not worry about them. But Godrick is just an old vulgarian and a coward and I predict he will be the first to fade away under the smoking sword of a Tarnished. So here, I will stay. Foul creatures, Tarnished are.

I am a filthier creature, however. My Omen flesh was the reason I was rejected by many. It's the reason many are rejected. We are a curse. We are blotches on clean, porcelain skin. My life in the sewers was a deserved one. I did not merit being directly connected to Queen Marika by blood. Mother, forgive me for being a blemish in thy posterity. I will protect the Erdtree until Queen Marika awakens. She has retreated into the tree and I must be patient. Mother has her plans and so does the Greater Will. I will serve what is golden.

My eyes soon dart around as I feel a faint presence approaching me. Even in the loneliness of the night, Tarnished abound. Queen Marika, give me thy strength to endure this burden. My bones grow heavy with fatigue and my undeserving flesh is plagued with calluses and peels. I growl at the state I was in.

I see the shadow of a man emerge through the entrance to the bridge. The moonlight cloaked his armor with an ethereal, silvery hue. His helmet obscured his face so I could not read his face. Interesting.

His armor appeared light, acting almost like a second skin. The metal plating clung to him as if it was a part of him, perfectly fitted. I could see that it was durable like dragon scale. The shining metal, whatever it was, glimmered in the pale light of the moon. On top of the helmet was a rugged, red shawl that's ends waved around like an angry war banner.

I took no time to speak with the Tarnished. I ambled closer to him and slammed down my wooden staff upon his head. A sharp, cold pain rushed through my leg. The Tarnished evaded and was quick to retaliate. I slapped him away and his body went flying. He grunted when he hit the ground. However, he pushed himself back up, unfazed. I leapt into the air and came crashing down. The Tarnished rolled underneath me and sliced at my tail with his well-made straight sword. I clubbed him with my tail and he flew back. An odd thing; I felt like I recognized this particular Tarnished.

"Do I know thy face, Tarnished?" I asked. He sluggishly got back onto his feet.

"Oh, so you do recognize me?" he said, taking off his helmet to reveal that he was the Tarnished that had disgusted me. I did note that his eyes were not filled with the naive wrath I saw before. It held something different. "I'm here for a rematch."

"Thou hast lost this battle before. It is futile to try again."

"No, it isn't," he said sternly, "So long as I have blood in me and steel in my hand, I will attempt to defeat you."

I had to chuckle at his childishness.

"Unless we can reach an agreement," he offered, "I do not want to fight unnecessarily."

"A Tarnished like thee and a defender of the shards such as I cannot coexist. Do not be so ignorant as to think an armistice is possible."

"That's what I figured you would say," he said, "But it never hurts to ask." He swiftly put back on his helmet and charged forward with great speed. I swung with my wooden staff and just like last time, he dodged. The Tarnished sliced at my legs with barbaric ferocity yet was controlled.

"Flee from me, feeble Tarnished." I summoned holy daggers and launched them at the filthy Tarnished. He avoided each and every one of them. "What do you hope to accomplish?!" I lashed my staff at him expeditiously but he used his smaller stature to maneuver between blows and stuck his blade into my shin. The pain might be great but it was something I was used to. Years of defending Leyndell from invaders have numbed the feeling of pain exponentially. I had experience of pain that I doubt this Tarnished has had.

I do admit, this Tarnished was nimble; he was faster than the time I fought him before. A simple nuisance. He was but a greenhorn still. I walloped the Tarnished with my offhand. He countered me with a flurry of slashes and he hacked at my flesh. Bother.

I decided to humor the Tarnished and I began getting more serious. My steps were faster and my attacks were swifter. The Tarnished was overwhelmed by my heavy yet speedy strikes. He began retreating back, dodging many of my attempts to swat at him. The Tarnished parried a few times but I broke his guard. Summoning gold daggers again, I sent them at him. He deftly eluded them except for one nicking him in the shoulder. I hit him with my tail and the Tarnished went flying over the edge of the cliff.

What a foolish Tarnished. Didst he really think he could face me with his pitiful swordsmanship? He has more ambition than he does skill.

I groan in frustration and exhaustion. Mere Tarnished think themselves good enough to chase the Elden Ring.

My irate thoughts were interrupted when I felt a sludge spray all over me. It burned!

"GAH!" I roared. It was the distinct purple color of jellyfish poison. My head snapped to face the direction that the shot of toxin came from. And there, the Tarnished stood with a spirit jellyfish floating next to him.

"I thought I just killed thee," I said, "Why art thou back so soon? Thou seeks pain and sorrow no doubt." Why must he be protected by grace? Death is not interested in taking this man so long as he holds claim to grace. He exploits the power of what is golden! My indignation boils over in me.

"I don't seek pain," he said, "It's just that you're in the way of the thing I need."

"Still as arrogant as ever-"

"Not arrogant!" he stated coldly, "I am well aware of your power, Margit. I know that if you look at the odds, there's no feasible way that I should beat you."

"Then why dost thou try?" I asked, "Thou knows that the endeavor that thou hast undertaken is pointless." The jellyfish grew enraged and shot a stream of venom. I easily eluded the poison and in retaliation, I threw launched holy daggers at the Tarnished. He was quick on his feet and leaped over the knives.

"What other option do I have?" he asked, "It's either give up and die or die trying to make my situation better."

"Doesn't it hurt, Tarnished?" I asked, "Doesn't it torment thy mind to see all thy efforts fall to the wayside? Doesn't it cause an ache within your tissues knowing that no matter how hard thou tries, thou will never live up to the mission?"

"Yeah, I think like that too," he said, "But someone told me otherwise." The Tarnished then commanded his jellyfish to launch a blast of toxic miasma at me. The violet mist blinded me for a few seconds. I could feel the small noxious droplets on me and I could feel some fall into my mouth and the toxin began taking effect quickly.

The Tarnished thrust his blade into me and cut up, ripping into me. He danced around me with agility, like a frog with the jitteriness of a hare. I lift my foot to step on him like a roach. My stomp was weighty and it created a shockwave. The Tarnished was pushed back but remained upright.

"Who is telling thee that thou should go after fanciful fever dreams? Dost thou keep company with a deluded council?"

"No," he said plainly, "She's much smarter than me."

"But a fool just the same."

"You don't get to say that!" he responded. Those words were not the only things he responded with. He ducked in between my legs and began slicing at my calves. A searing cold erupted in me as I felt my warm blood spill out and drip down my legs.

"ARGH!" I was forced to bend my knee. This was a humiliating position for a member of Queen Marika's offspring. This was humiliating for a king!

The Tarnished pierced his sword into my back. I felt the ice-cold steel puncture right through some bones. Enough was enough. I allowed this Tarnished to mock me long enough.

I performed a mighty swing at the Tarnished; it was one that he was not expecting and I crushed him underneath my large staff. I heard him scream in pain until all I could hear was quiet whimpers. Soon, he became ash in the wind.

Surely that was enough to deter him. A true pest he was. The Tarnished should understand that no matter how hard he tries, he cannot overcome me. I am the protector of the great throne. Grace is on my side. That Tarnished is nothing but a rotten-born varmint. What was a rat compared to a champion?

However, rest from Tarnished scoundrels never came. I was met with the ominous sight of the Tarnished standing at the entrance to the bridge once again.

At this point, my annoyance was changing into lividity. This Tarnished was unrelenting. But neither was I. My hands will crush him as many times as it takes. The grip I had around my cane tightened and it took a great deal of my patience to not be overcome with ire.

"Leave, Tarnished!" I commanded, "Thy evasion from death is beginning to irritate me."

"Same here," he said, "Sometimes, dying hurts so bad that I just wish that I really did pass away but here I am."

"This path only leads to great pain. I will be gracious and allow thee to turn around and walk away."

"Sorry, but I'm gonna have to take a raincheck on that," he said, taking out a green substance that had the consistency of animal fat and coating his blade with it. I sighed. It was poison grease. The blasted jellyfish caught me off guard by shooting at me with its venom. I made the mistake of trying to wipe off the toxins which only spread it across my skin. Soon, a aching pain enveloped my entire body and I felt as if my heart was being squeezed. The Tarnished, again, charged forward at me. Always doing the same thing expecting a different result. Folly!

We clashed. It was a storm of chaotic attacks and flurries of strikes. Despite my bigger size, I was still faster than the Tarnished. The Tarnished was quick but I was still lighter on my feet. I flew back and forth on the bridge with blinding speed and I could see that the Tarnished was having a hard time following my movements. I sneered. He was a waste of time.

I propelled myself forward and tried to batter him with my staff. However, he rolled under my cane and sidestepped my tail club. He then countered with an attack of his own and I felt the putrid grease enter my body.

I angrily swiped him away.

"I play with thee as a cougar would do to a rodent," I said, "You understand that fighting is vain? No matter how hard you try, you will simply remain a Tarnished. A being of no renown and undeserving of grace."

"I know," he told me, "I'm undeserving of a lot of things." His voice was calm and smooth unlike the vengeful stuttering he spoke with the first time we met. "I deserve nothing but death. I'm a useless man who's never done anything of significance." The Tarnished spoke with a sadness. Deserving nothing but death? He was right about that. However, I paused.

"So thou admits the truth?" I asked.

"I've always known it to some degree," he said. There was a potent silence between the two of us as we analyzed each other, seeing if the other was going to suddenly make a move. It didn't seem to me that the Tarnished was being controlled by bloodlust. Neither was I. So we remained still.

"I ask again, why is it that you keep fighting?"

"Because I can't continue to do nothing," he said, "To give up and resort to idleness does not help me in any way." A foolhardy one! Does he not know that it does not matter either way whether he gives up or not?! Everything ends up the same.

"Does not thy flesh repulse you? You possess a failure's body. How dost thou even dare say those words?"

"I know that better than anyone." His jellyfish stood guard next to him, waiting for us to begin dueling again. "And that hasn't changed. But I can't be dissuaded."

Without warning, I flew at him, grabbing him by his fragile neck which I could split with ease. I scraped his body across the jagged stone ground. His insanity was making me furious. I clutched his spirit ash in my palms and threw it so that it did not cause any interruptions. I turned my head back towards the Tarnished.

"Let me grant thee wisdom," I said with a frost coating each word, "You are not worthy of the Elden Ring, graceless one. I am helping thee by saying this. Retire from these fantasies and you will be set free. I do not think thee understandeth the peril thou art in."

"It is actually you who does not understand," the Tarnished bit back, "This isn't something I do for fun or fulfillment. It's what I do because I have to!"

I lifted him up and summoned a golden dagger and pierced it right into his sternum.

"Let us see if thou hast the willpower to go on," I said as I felt his body turn to ash in my hand and float away into the night sky. His dogged jellyfish came back and was enraged at what I've done. I simply clobbered the despicable creature. As I did, I felt its body excrete a toxin onto my hand. It burned like an unending flame.

Poison was beginning to make its way into my head. A dizziness befell me and fever was right around the corner ready to pounce on me like a rabid animal. A true annoyance. I battered the jellyfish with my staff.

"Hey! Leave Aurelia be!" Many knives flew into my back. I barely felt them when they pierced me until the feeling of a cold ache developed in my body. Why, O Queen Marika, is he back?! Tarnished should remain dead once killed. Why must grace protect him, I ask again?

"I grow tired of this nonsense, Tarnished. Thou art outmatched."

He sent more throwing knives my way and I blocked them all. This was ridiculous. I was utterly astounded by the sheer stupidity that this Tarnished was displaying.

"So it seems that, like how a pig returns to its own filth, you return to your folly," I said, "We both know you cannot keep this up forever. No matter how many times you can come back, death takes its toll irregardless. I can see you tire not physically but lassitude has thee in its cold grasp."

"I just have to-" He threw another knife which stuck in my chest. "-keep going."

I slammed my foot down onto the bridge causing a wave of debris to explode up and at the Tarnished. He quickly recovered and hurtled himself in my direction through the cloud of dust. His blade was pointing right at me and his intention was to kill yet he remained unwavering.

This Tarnished kept coming back. His resolve has brought him this far even after dying to me. But that won't save him. No amount of tenacity will overcome idiocy.

Again, we went with the song and dance of trading blows. I would bash him with the force of all my might and he would cut into me with the brutality of a rabid dog but also with what seemed to be calculated precision. My moves were slower now that I had poison running through my bloodstream. And with the Tarnished's spirit ash constantly firing streams of venom, I was growing exhausted.

It was just an endless cycle that would never end. I would kill him, he would come back and get a few hits off, I would kill him, repeat. He was skilled enough to evade my blows I must say. However, he was improving every time he came back. He was growing sharper, more efficient, and craftier. The Tarnished was growing ever more accustomed to my attacks and would deal with them accordingly.

The sound of my staff beating against his metal plating rang through the air surely to be heard from a great distance away.

Our battle under the damnable moon and detestable stars continued on for hours, neither of us ceasing from our everlasting brawl.

I was becoming tired. Not mentally but physically. I need to show him the true power of grace.

"Well," I said, "Thou art of passing skill." I summoned two holy weapons: a sword in my right hand and a mighty war hammer in my left. I leapt into the air and brought my hammer down causing an earthquake-like effect.

"AHH!" I heard him scream . This Tarnished really forced praise out of my mouth. My tongue has been defiled by even addressing the Tarnished with respect. But he's pushed me this far. So I will push him.

I launched daggers at his jellyfish which was not agile enough to dodge and I heard it cry out. The blessed sight of the spirit finally fading away was rapturous. Such an annoyance was gone. However, this seemed to push the Tarnished to fight harder.

A primal roar erupted from his mouth as he pierced my throat. I retaliated with a cascade of sword strikes. I knew for certain that he was bruised, battered, and bloodied underneath all that armor.

We fought like rams caught in a headlock with their feet firmly planted. Neither side would dare budge lest the other take advantage of their momentary blunder and destroy them. It was foul blood against foul blood. An Omen pitted against a Tarnished. Two mistakes born into a world where they are not wanted.

I will not embarrass the Golden Lineage.

My wrath was letting itself out.

I slaughtered that Tarnished again.

And again.

And again.

I slew him countless more times, each time trying to make his death more brutal than the last. I tore him in half, I disemboweled him with my golden blade, I crushed him under a pile of stone, and countless more ways.

Each time after, he came back. He was growing weary but he kept coming back. Exhaustion was eating away at me little by little with jellyfish poison as its accomplice.

"You're… growing tired?" the Tarnished said. That mockery will not go unpunished but I was not so petty as to deny my weariness so I nodded. "Yeah, me too," he told me in between pants.

We have been fighting for many, many hours and the moon has given way to the dawn. A pleasant orange light shined down from the sky bringing warmth to my aching bones. The Tarnished did not make a move against me. Instead, he appeared uninterested in fighting and at the moment, so was I.

I will kill him no doubt but he impressed me with his skill and persistence. I have seen many battles throughout the Shattering and I have killed many soldiers and conquerers. All would fear the name of Margit the Fell. Yet, this Tarnished knew none of that even after feeling my wrath. He was still here.

"Tell me, Tarnished," I said, "What compels thee forward? Is it duty? Is it power? Is it pride?" The Tarnished seemed to ponder on the question.

"Not really any of those," he told me.

"A mystery?"

"No, not really," he replied, "It's sort of complicated."

"Then speak succinctly."

"If you really want to know, it's because I don't want to live uselessly forever. I don't want to succumb to my worthlessness. Mediocrity and incompetence run through my blood. But I can't bring other people down with me."

"So it is others you fight for?"

"Yes," he said, "For if I fight for myself, I will be disappointed. However, there is one individual who has been with me since the beginning."

"Who is this that gives you so much strength and determination?"

"Well, she's cold sometimes, she can be aloof, and I can rarely ever tell what she's thinking," he said, "But she's caring in her own way and she's stuck by me all this time even though I would not if I was her."

I understood what he was talking about, what he was feeling. It occurred to me why I was originally disgusted with this Tarnished.

It was because I saw me in him.

Both of us were afflicted with vile flesh. His desire to prove himself, his longing to make something of himself was something that I have known for eons. My hatred for my Omen curse was an abiding enemy that was ever present, a second shadow. Like a newborn babe, it clung to me, never letting me forget that it is there. I was scorned by everyone because of this curse. Yet, I did not hate those who rejected me, instead, I forgave them. I wanted to show them that I was worthy of being called a member of the Golden Lineage.

This Tarnished seemed to have a similar motivation. He wanted to not perish under the weight of his own powerlessness in this world. Strength was needed for that indeed. I suppose it is a shame to see myself in a Tarnished. A great disgrace it is. I am a disease on the land but I was not going to let that dissuade me from my calling of protecting what is right; the Tarnished had amazing stubbornness and steadfastness. I've torn him limb from limb yet he still stands before me undaunted.

I shook my head and said, "Well done."

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"You have made it very far, transgressor."

"Oh," he said, "Thank you."

"But it is my will and obligation to not allow you to go any further. Next time, I will make sure you do not have the courage to come back."

"Yeah, I know," he said, "Our missions conflict so it is only natural that we fight until the other concedes or dies."

"Charge forward, Tarnished," I said, "Release all your righteous fury!" I held my holy, golden sword and war hammer in each hand respectively, showing him that I was ready for any move that he could make.

He clutched his sword with both hands and rushed at me.

Our clash was explosive.

It was a typhoon of heavy attacks. We were akin to two natural disasters piled on top of each other; neither of us would back down until we use up all our power to subjugate the other. I knew not the consequences of this fight but it did not matter; two storms were colliding. The adrenaline and rush of battle flowed through me like a running river as I shot across the bridge, back and forth with the Tarnished, with elegance.

Like two stags with interlocked antlers, neither of us made much progress. I just needed him to make one small mistake and he would be destroyed but I suppose he knew that. He was much more wary and cautious.

I flew back and threw holy daggers at him to catch him off guard but then I saw him take something out of his pouch. A talisman that emanated golden light. No, that couldn't be! I looked underneath me and realized I was dangerously close to the edge of the bridge. Where did he find that! A looming feeling crashed onto me as I soon figured out what he was going to do.

The Tarnished let out a cry as he activated the shackles; golden magic began wrapping around me and ensnaring me like a serpent. I took one last glance at the rising sun as I could not stop myself from going over the edge and plummeting to the ground.

I will confront thee again, Tarnished, when the rays of gold shine upon us once more; I will remember thee, smoldering with thy meager flame.


Melina's POV

I arrived at the Site of Grace on the bridge that led up to Stormveil to find my Tarnished crying out and shouting for joy. His hands were held high and he was cheering with great vigor. He turned when I revealed myself and his face lit up immediately. The bright smile on his face was enough to match the Erdtree. He quickly rushed over and grabbed both of my hands in delight.

"I did it, Melina!" he exclaimed, "Those months practicing, planning, and training paid off! I could not have done it without you!"

"I cannot claim all the credit," I said to him, "Thou must thank Master Hewg for his handiwork."

"I certainly will!" Nathaniel cried, "Oh my gosh! Is this what it feels like to win?!" I stared at him as he began to rant and blather nonsense; I could feel the mellow warmth of pride spark within me as I heard his spirited rhapsody.

"You wanna know how I got him?" Nathaniel asked, "He jumped very close to the edge so I took out the shackle and used it while he was in the air and he fell!"

"A great use of the tools at thy disposal," I said.

"Aurelia was also pivotal. She weakened him with her toxins."

"A great victory this is indeed," I told him, "Surely, thou hast received a large sum of runes after slaying Margit."

"Oh, yeah, I did!" he said.

"Would you desire for me to turn those runes into strength?" I asked.

"Yeah, totally!" he said excitedly as he reached out his hand to me. I grabbed onto his hand and felt something spike in me. I have done this many times throughout those months getting Nathaniel stronger and I felt nothing odd. But seeing his innocent grin and touching his rough hand made me feel a flush in my face. Why was this time so different?

After completing the process, Nathaniel said that he felt reinvigorated and much more powerful than before.

Torrent really did have his measure from the start. It was fascinating to see him like this, so happy. Most of the time he was downtrodden and burdened with many expectations of failure but sometimes he gave genuine smiles like the one on his lips currently. Oh, how lovely it was to see it again.

The early morning light wrapped us both in its warm embrace and the light seemed to gravitate towards Nathaniel. Seeing him there in his masterfully-made armor with blade in hand and his radiant smirk reminded me of a hero. It was quite different from the dejected handwringer I met many months ago.

"Melina," Nathaniel said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, "I just wanted to thank you for, well, uh, enduring me. I know it must've been hard staying with me for as long as you have; you saw me fail, complain, and make a fool of myself many times. So thank you."

Sincerity blossomed on each word; his voice had no joking sarcasm. I do not understand why, but those words made me feel rather nice. I was unequivocally happy about what he said. Mere words were enough to ignite a comforting hearth in my chest.

"Of course," I said.