7. Great Wall of St. Richter
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Even the sturdy stone ramparts shuddered as the drake began its assault. Arcs of bright-blue lightning tore through the ranks of angels, who writhed as they combusted. The Lucid One dared to peek from cover, just in time to see the massive creature heave into the air with a mighty beat of its fin-like wings. It circled high above as the angelic archers released volleys of silver arrows to little effect.
The drake swooped across the cloudy sky, coming parallel to the outer wall where the man lay hidden. He gaped as the monster roared with electric fury and quickly dove into the adjacent corner, barely avoiding its scorching breath. A headless knight collapsed beside him, its shining armor charred, and the golden mist dissipated from its neck into colorless ash. The man frantically looked around for an escape, but the expansive walkways offered no cover. He was ready to run back down the stairwell into the floodgates below, but just then, something caught his eye.
One of the gilded knights was operating a massive ballista, elegantly molded from silver and gold. Three barbed spears, each thicker than a tree trunk, were loaded into its rectangular shaft, and with a tug of the firing crank, they launched towards the airborne beast. Two of the arrows missed as the monster rolled over, but the third penetrated its muscular thigh. A horrible screech split the air as silver blood rained across the ramparts.
The injury only infuriated the drake further. It serpentined straight into the clouds, then dropped with a crash onto the ballista, crumpling the mechanism like foil beneath its wicked talons. Its fanged maw clamped over the helpless knight, and it viciously whipped the angel back and forth before flinging it bodily from the wall.
The creature took to the skies again, leaving the Lucid One in awe of its might. Though the ballista was wrecked, many more lined the parapets with no one to operate them. A lone knight lumbered towards one of the oversized crossbows, but a lethal jolt of lightning incinerated the angel before it could reach it. The drake twirled in the air, then crashed onto the kiosk once more, unleashing a victorious cry.
The remaining archers pelted the beast with endless slivers of light, but they barely penetrated its azure scales. As lightning ripped through their numbers, the man finally dared to rush towards the ballista. He reached it unseen by angels or dragon, and with great strain, managed to tilt the machine in the drake's direction. The abomination spread its spiny wings and roared again, frills quivering with intensity, and the Lucid One saw his chance.
With both hands gripping the lever, he fired. There was a thunderous crack as the triple spears raced through the air, but at the last second, they dipped low and collided with the kiosk instead. The marble pillars cracked and crumbled, and the drake whipped its head in his direction with a roar. His heart plummeted as the electric energy exploded towards him.
He dove away from the ballista, and luckily, the metal contraption attracted the entirety of the blast, its exquisite design melting in the intense heat. He kept hidden behind the wall, expecting another attack, but only a roar followed in its wake. The beast was preoccupied by the angels, neither of which had noticed the dwarfed mortal. He quickly located another ballista loaded with missiles, gathered his resolve, and dashed madly towards it.
His teeth ground together as he pivoted the device, and this time, he aimed higher than his intended target. The dragon remained perched atop the small building as if claiming its territory, wings spread wide to challenge contesters. As the light refracted through its translucent membrane, the man saw his mark.
The three arrows launched from the ballista, and this time, his aim was true. One missile tore right through the wing, while the others embedded into its shoulder and torso. The drake's roar changed to a cry of pain, then it toppled from the tower and crashed onto the walkway. It thrashed about as it charged madly, running straight for the man. He ducked in terror behind the ballista, expecting to be trampled, but the creature barreled right over him and toppled off the wall.
The enraged monstrosity beat its useless wings as it fell from the ramparts, its cries echoing into the tempest below. Flashes of sapphire light faded from view, and soon, all traces of the fiend had vanished. The Lucid One struggled to catch his breath, expecting the drake to return at any moment, but the skies were calm once more.
He peered towards the broken building, finding scores of blackened angels littering the walkway. Those that had survived were far away, leaving the path ahead clear. The man could not believe his fortune as he dashed for the shelter of the kiosk, certain that Nos himself must have guided his shot.
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Despite the damage it suffered, the small structure stood fast. Its gold-domed roof had caved beneath the drake's talons, and the x-shaped saltire at its peak was bent at a crooked angle. However, the four marble pillars that supported it were cracked but whole. As he drew near, a familiar hum reached his ears, and he was greeted by a welcomed sight.
In the center of the crumbling tower stood a lone lantern, shimmering with surreal light, its silver bell chiming softly amidst the destruction. The man sighed in relief at its presence, praying that the dream would take him back into its sanctuary. As he approached, however, a gasp caught in his throat as he beheld a familiar tricornered hat.
Morrow glanced up from the floor, both hands clutching his charred ribs. The leather coat had been burned away, revealing blackened, bubbling skin beneath. Despite his horrible state, the wounded man shook with an ironic chuckle.
"Well," he rasped, "Never expected to... see you here..." Each word fought to escape his lips, which were flaked with dry blood. "You even... took down that accursed drake... Bravo, my friend..."
The Lucid One stared aghast at his condition, then immediately knelt beside him. He retrieved the emerald flask from his coat and extended it in offering, but Morrow only gazed at the light-filled bottle with a strange expression.
"Estus?" he asked, a mix of emotions flooding his voice. "But... You? How did you... Ugh, no matter. I'm in no position to question..." At last, he reached out a gloved hand and accepted the elixir, then drank greedily from its contents. After a moment, he wiped his mouth clean and handed it back.
"Thank you, friend," he spoke gratefully, sitting straighter even as his wounds persisted. "That should give me the strength to see this through. I am ashamed to admit I used up all my rations." To his surprise, Morrow produced an identical emerald flask, its emptiness reflecting in the lamplight. "You understand my confusion now? I thought I was alone, but it would seem our paths cross in more ways than one."
Morrow sighed and poked at his exposed ribcage, which no longer seemed to bother him. "I don't suppose you have any water on you? From... you know, the dream?" The Lucid One shook his head regretfully. "Ah well, no matter. The agony chased away any chance of rest, but it pains me much less now. Hopefully sleep will take me back, soon..."
The Lucid One sat silent, letting Morrow recuperate, but the talkative fellow was not yet finished. "Listen, friend. I believe fate has brought us together. For you to appear now, in my time of need, can be nothing short of destiny. Do you know of the bells? The ones that will open the path ahead?"
At this, he perked up and nodded eagerly. "Very good," Morrow continued. "Legend says that both must be rung in harmony, but it's impossible for one man to accomplish alone. Therefore, I propose an alliance. If you take the path to the left, I will take the right. Whoever reaches their bell first will ring it to signal the other, and with luck, we may yet complete our task."
The Lucid One gave him a smile of agreement, feeling blessed that he was not alone. He wished there was some way to show his thanks, the he remembered the gift Morrow had left him at the last lantern. It seemed only fitting that he should return it now, a token of his friendship.
When he produced the small white crystal, however, Morrow waved a hand. "No, Nameless One, that is yours to keep. It should prove useful on the road ahead. Do you not know what it is?" The Lucid One shook his head. "That is a soapstone shard, a relic of old. In times of need, it can resonate with another, and summon an ally to your side. A precious thing indeed, though it must be destroyed for it to work. The unfortunate price of companionship. I've no doubt that you'll find use for it."
The Lucid One nodded gravely and pocketed the priceless artifact. Then, he took a seat opposite Morrow and gazed deep into the flameless lantern. The other man fell silent, and together, they slipped away into the dream, beckoned by the softly shimmering chime.
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His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he forgot where he was. Gradually, recollection returned, and the Lucid One sat up in surprise. Morrow was already gone, leaving no trace of his passing save for a faint stain of black blood. As the man stood, he felt as if his pockets had grown heavier, and reached inside his shirt to investigate.
To his surprise, he found the twin flasks refilled, both of well water and Estus. He stared in confusion at their miraculous return, but try as he might, he could not remember visiting the mysterious dreamworld. However, he was not about to question his blessings, and returned the items to his coat feeling refreshed. He hoped that Morrow had also recovered from his grievous injuries, and was already off to complete his part of the bargain.
The Lucid One gathered his cane from the tiled floor, then looked ahead to the belltower in the distance. It was a straight path to his goal, but he got the feeling it would not be a welcoming one. Squaring his shoulders, he pulled up his fur-lined hood and continued on his quest.
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Halfway to the tower, he encountered another patrol of angels. A pair of hovering archers flanked a headless knight, who gripped a bronze hammer in one hand and an iron chain in the other. He tensed, realizing there was nowhere to seek cover along the open wall. A fight was inevitable.
He tried to form his strategy as they neared, but there was little he could do against the imposing constructs. There were no ballistae nearby to aid him. He considered dashing through, but knew it would be futile. Then, the angels spotted him, and the knight began to charge. The man gripped his silver staff with white knuckles; it suddenly felt like a twig in his hands.
The bronze hammer rose high, and he rolled forward as it crashed down, demolishing the stone floor. He had barely stood when the archers plucked their silver bowstrings, which sang in harmony as they conjured volleys of arrows. He tried to dodge, but his left arm and leg were pincushioned by the shimmering needles. He collapsed against the wall as the arrows evaporated, leaving no wounds, but his limbs had gone numb.
The chain immediately struck his back and sent him sprawling, knocking the wind out of him. He heard the bows sing again, and instinctively rolled on his side as the arrows rained down. He passed right beneath the hovering angels, their bow-tips staking into the ground, barely missing him. As he tried to stand, one archer floated back to gain distance, while the other prepared to fire once more.
He was done trying to dodge. With a twist of the pommel, his staff separated into a whip and lashed out, wrapping around the intricate bow. Another twist and it tightened automatically, snapping the bowstring and tearing the weapon from the angel's grasp, sending it careening from the wall. As the other fired, he ran in front of the nearest archer, using its body to shield himself. He thrust forward and caught the angel beneath its breastplate, staggering it.
The knight was upon him again. It leapt between the archers and swung wildly with its hammer, barely missing the man's head as he ducked. He stabbed the golden warrior in the side, but his cane bounced harmlessly off its thick armor. Then the chain swiped down, forcing him to roll, and he found himself surrounded on all sides. The bow sang, the chain struck, and the man was flattened against the wall with a chest full of arrows.
His entire body was numb from the crippling attacks, leaving him oddly at peace as the angels closed in. He didn't have time to use his potions or defend himself, and his years of magical study were useless against these foes. He blinked back the tears that had begun to swell, and looked to the sky in hopelessness, begging the benevolent Nos for guidance.
Then, his eyes refocused, and inspiration struck. Despite his paralyzed body, his right arm still responded, and he touched the silver catalyst to his forehead. He recited the spell silently in his mind, feeling the crystal pommel resonate with his thoughts. His magic was useless against the angels, but they were no longer his intended target.
The hammer swung high, the bowstring drew back, and the man fired a single white streak into the numerous wooden poles around them. The spell splintered through the shaft, causing the corpse-laden wheel above to crash down onto the archer's shoulder. Its arrows shot wide as it was pinned beneath the heavy copper wheel, and the man threw himself aside before the hammer came down, barely avoiding its pulverizing blow.
Before the fallen archer could recover, the Lucid One dropped his cane and stole its heavy bow. He barely had the strength to lift it, but as his fingers touched the silver string, he immediately understood its nature. The weapon required a certain combination of faith and knowledge to wield, and those aspects he had plenty of. As the knight lumbered towards him, the bow sang, and the shimmering needles pierced its armor as if it were paper.
With the angel's charge halted, the man quickly produced his sapphire flask and gulped down its blessed water. The archer grabbed his arm, trying to interrupt him, but he immediately retrieved his cane and stabbed down on its elbow, breaking its grip. He rushed forward as he pocketed the flask, his body cleansed of all pain and numbness, and resumed his assault with renewed vigor.
Expectedly, the hammer swung down, and he dove straight between the knight's legs. He grasped the staff with both hands and jabbed backwards, catching the angel behind the knee, and found a gap in the plated greaves. The golden goliath collapsed with a groan, holding both hands forward to support itself.
Before he could take advantage, he noticed the disarmed archer had its hands and wings spread. He instantly remembered this stance, and his blood went cold as pillars of light showered the ramparts, covering its breadth with divine magic. He crawled back as one seared between his legs, and scrambled beneath the kneeling knight for cover.
The man suddenly found himself face to face with the headless giant, whose glimmering mist seemed to be staring directly at him. Reacting on instinct, he thrust his staff straight into the open neckhole, impaling the golden fog within. The angel shuddered as it released a deafening bellow, expelling the mist from its armor as vapor, and the Lucid One rolled aside as the knight collapsed to the ground, its light extinguished.
The archer finished its casting, but before the man could attack, a sound from behind drew his attention. He spun, expecting the other archer to have freed itself, but what he saw made him freeze. He was only partly right.
As the archer rose, so too did the corpse bound to the copper wheel, a piece of the splintered pole still jutting out one side. The emaciated body struggled to balance, its legs bent around the spokes at impossible angles. It stared at the man with a vacant gaze, then sprung with surprising agility and cartwheeled towards him.
He threw himself aside as the corpse-wheel raced past, and the splintered shaft whistled just above his head. The archer flew high to avoid the charging wheel, then dove at the man with arms outstretched. He lashed once with his cane, cracking it across its conical helmet, and ducked low to avoid its embrace. At the same time, he hoisted the heavy chain from the ground and heaved with all his feeble might, looping it around the archer's shoulder-pads. He held fast as it struggled to free itself, nearly lifting him off the ground. Then, he heard the wheel grinding towards him again.
Panicking, he flung himself aside along with the chain, and its links caught in the spinning spokes. This time, though, the wooden pole struck him square in the chest and threw him back. He skidded across the walkway, vision spinning, and he barely noticed the corpse wobbling over him. It was equally disoriented, but the Lucid One recovered first. With a heaving kick, he toppled it over the short wall, and the bound body tumbled head over heels into the clouds. The chain tightened around the archer's neck, and its weight dragged the hapless angel along with it.
There was only one more. No sooner had the thought entered his mind than the bowstring sang, and a volley of arrows pierced his torso. Everything below his shoulders went numb as he collapsed in a heap. He heard the feathery wings approaching, and struggled to pull the Estus from his thick robes. A shadow fell over him as he chewed the stopper free and struggled to lift it to his lips.
The bowstring pulled taut, sounding as if it were inhaling. A second before it fired, the cane whipped around and knocked it aside. The silver needles shot in a row beside him, with a couple catching his arm, but he ignored them. Once again, the Estus filled him with a fiery frenzy. It did not heal his body, but his body didn't matter, only his fighting spirit fueled by the desire to win. To kill.
The Lucid One leapt to his feet as he lashed again, striking the angel across the face. It quickly recovered and closed the distance, using its bow as a staff, but the cane snapped together to block it in time. He held on with both hands, straining against the construct's inhuman strength, and finally managed to shove it back. The bow swung again in an instant, but the staff came apart as its wielder rolled aside, twirling it over his head to whip at its wings. Sparkling feathers billowed about, and the angel gave a shrill, unsettling scream.
Without wasting a moment, the man struck again, and the floating archer collapsed to the ground. He struck again, and again, releasing a torrent of feathers as the angel shrieked in pain. He lashed repeatedly, his jaw stretched in a silent warcry, showing his adversary no mercy.
It took him a moment to realize the angel had ceased moving. Its armor fell apart at the seams, revealing nothing inside, and its wings were battered to shreds. His rage finally subsided, and he stared in astonishment. He had finally won.
And he was still only halfway to the belltower.
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Appendix
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Bronze Hammer — A large hammer crafted from bronze. It is weaker than steel, making it inferior in combat, and is mainly used as a tool to fasten hapless sinners to their wheels during sky burials.
Sentinel Greatbow — Magical bows wielded by the Sentinel archers. They do not require ammunition, and instead fire arrows of light which draw directly from the soul itself. When plucked, the silver bowstring seems to sing with joyous intent.