Ornstein woke, moving from nightmare to nightmare.
The incredible heat hit him first, followed by the sound of a crackling flame. It was an odd noise, off in some fundamental way from the sound you would hear from your fireplace. He had only heard that peculiar resonance from one other source before.
The First Flame.
He opened his eyes with difficulty. The heat, ash, and sweat had crusted them over slightly.
At first, he saw nothing but a few thin strips of light in his vision, then realized that the heat had fused his visor closed in some places. It was a titanic effort to remove it, but he finally grasped the scorched remains of the plume and hauled it off, sending it scraping across the floor. He almost regretted doing so, as the heat was more noticeable now. At least he could breathe.
As he did just that, memory of the recent event returned to him.
He remembered where he was.
He turned his head to look where Queyla used to be.
A monstrous cluster of root-like growths had taken her place.
As he watched, they shifted and twitched. They were still growing and expanding, but not as fast as…as…
Her agonized final scream reverberated through his head like a dire aria.
He let his head fall down on the stones.
Some would greet death with wailing and moaning, or wanton destruction. He had.
He had been there already.
This just made him feel empty, despair lying heavily upon his back. Perhaps he would never move, just lie here and let death carry him off…
A scream pierced the air, and Ornstein squeezed his eyes shut tight. Would he ever stop hearing that?
It came again, a different one. This one definitely belonged to a man. They were coming from the streets above.
Duty called.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Sif was trotting along back to New Londo, taking his time. His partner had seemed like he was busy, so he likely wouldn't mind.
There were many ways back to the human city, but he had decided to take the Firelink Shrine entrance to see if he couldn't swipe some food. He could smell it on the wind as he descended a set of stone stairs carved into the side of the great mountain.
The Guardians of the Shrine seemed surprised to see him, so he wagged his tail vigorously to assure them he meant no harm.
Of course, they did seem to be more concerned with the larger creature that had apparently come up from below.
It stood about ten feet tall, a massive red-furred beast with the face of a skeletal ram, if a ram had pointed fangs and glowing yellow eyes.
There were two very similar beings that already lay slain on the tiles, amongst numerous small white-robed bodies.
Sif decided he did not like these new beasts.
His sword was out of its scabbard in a flash, and he raced towards the thing, deftly dodging a swipe of its deadly-looking claws. He rolled on his side as its bony tail struck a Guardian and sent him flying, then leapt onto its back and stabbing downwards with his sword. The blade met resistance as it pierced the thick corded muscle, and Sif knew that this maneuver wouldn't have been possible with his old sword.
Despite being bitten with such a long fang, the beast roared and reached back for him, grabbing a rough fistful of his fur. It hauled him over its head and hurled him onto the stones at its feet with a thunderous crash.
He lay there for a moment, trying to draw breath back into his lungs, and the demon saw its opportunity. With a fearsome growl, it brought its bony fists together and raised them above its head for a powerful blow, ignoring the large hole in its back.
The Guardians did their duty.
They may have been smaller than many of the beings these days, but that didn't change their ability. Two had shot up its back in a heartbeat, sinking their short swords into its eyes. Three more had leapt in front of Sif, combining the protection of their shields to stop the demon's strike. They were staggered by the hit, but withstood it. Together, all five landed a flurry of stabs and slashes all over the creature's body, painting red across the otherwise clean pillars and floor.
The beast swayed on its feet, and Sif readied his sword.
But it had finally had enough, and toppled to the ground, lifeless.
There were a few moments where everyone left standing caught their breath, but only a few.
"Well, where's your master, friend?" One of the Guardians spoke through his odd white shroud. His voice was rough, as if unused to speaking, and he had a curious accent.
Why did the two-legs always try to talk to him, Sif wondered. He obviously couldn't talk back. He was a wolf for crying out loud, not one of those fancy forest cats! He reversed the grip on his sword and sheathed it.
More Guardians had materialized out of seemingly nowhere, some with red marring their robes. They all bowed silently as they arrived, and Sif began to feel silly. That was reserved for the important two-legs.
The Guardian from before cleared his throat and tried again. "Where is your partner?"
Well, the least he could do was humor them. He began motioning with his head. Absolutely ridiculous, really. This wasn't how wolves spoke, or how two-legs spoke, but for some reason they seemed to like this best.
They realized that he had been indicating the sign for New Londo.
"Grand. Tell Knight Artorias that Izalith is in grave danger. Captain Ornstein is in need of assistance." The ranks of Guardians stood in silent, solemn rows, virtually no evidence they weren't statues.
With a whuff, the Great Grey Wolf bounded down to the elevator for New Londo. It seemed that no rest existed for a Knight of Gwyn.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gough clapped his hands together, causing dirt to fly off of them. He was in the human town of Ten-stones, where his good friend Artorias had lived before the whole rebellion mess. He set the last of the bricks for the new building's base, having dug out the basement with his massive hands. He was standing in it now, surveying his work, still managing to be significantly taller than the nearby humans that had gathered to watch him.
"Mmm, yes. That will do, I think. Now we move to the timber. What say you, sir farmer?"
The man in question walked around the structure, examining the fine craft that the giant had wrought. The bricks were exactly flat, cut finely, so much so that the corners were sharp. Gough noticed this.
"Oh, my apologies! I will sand those down. We wouldn't want someone cutting themselves on that!" He began absently rubbing the nearby corner with his callused palms.
The crowd seemed a bit disquieted by the whole affair, but if the giant realized this, it didn't show.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Hm?" The giant turned to acknowledge the speaker, switching hands to continue his work.
The man who spoke had a sword buckled at his belt. Dark circles had formed under his eyes.
"Why are you here? Did your Lord send you to keep us in line?"
The giant smiled, almost a fatherly expression. "Nay, I am here of my own volition." His green eyes panned over the damaged town. It had been sort of a wreck before the rebellion, but there had been a small skirmish here during it, and some buildings had been completely destroyed. "I thought I would help thee rebuild, stronger than ever."
"We only need to rebuild because your thugs tore it apart!" The sword had been drawn at some point, and there were some murmurs of assent from the crowd. Others hung back and kept silent.
Gough looked at the man sadly, then began lifting himself out of the basement. "Oh, manling."
The man lifted his sword, pointing it at the giant as he approached, suddenly very aware of his size. Gough ignored the sword, kneeling in front of him.
"Sir, this—" he gestured to the remaining mess, "gives me no pleasure, nor can I believe that it pleases Lord Gwyn." He reached out and gently tapped the man's shoulder. "War harms everyone, sir. I was forced to destroy a certain plaza that I was quite fond of during the rebellion." His eyes acquired a faraway look. "My wife and I were married in that plaza. I was very distracted at the time; the columns were asymmetrical by a foot or so…" A wide smile split his craggy face. "But I digress."
The man had started shaking his head before the Hawkeye had finished. "As if you don't have enough up there in the city!" He gestured with his bared sword. "You dare come down here and rub your opulence in our faces!"
The giant sighed, the sound like the wind through the trees. "All we can do is our best."
At that moment, a white bird alighted on the giant's shoulder. Turning to look at it, he noticed a message attached to its leg.
"Ah, hopefully some good news."