Oolacile. After a long and rather uneventful journey, Artorias and Sif finally arrived at the town. A grand town at the heart of the royal wood, a vast sprawl of untamed forest. It was beautiful, even in the ruined state it had fallen into. Standing on a cliff no small distance from the town, the duo surveyed their surroundings, Artorias peering at the town through his old binoculars. Thick green forest enveloped everything they saw, great stone structures rising from the lush canopy in the distance. A vast coliseum caught the knight's eye, an incredible feat of engineering. Truly, Oolacile was a place of modest beauty. It reminded him of New Londo. He shuddered, remembering what the darkness had done to that place, once the centre of culture, now a half destroyed ruin haunted by ghosts. He had been heralded as the saviour of New Londo, but Artorias felt little but regret at his actions there. He would not allow the same fate to befall Oolacile.
He knelt by Sif's side, taking in the sight. Oolacile was a town built long before Anor Londo, and its age was beginning to show. But there was something wrong. Something off. It was silent. Not just the town, but the forest too. There was nothing. The song of the birds, the sound of the townsfolk, the clattering of irons and the thudding of footsteps. Gone. Even the sound of the trees rustling in the wind was vacant. It was the kind of silence only the dead should truly know. It chilled him to his core. Long had it been since he had heard silence like this. The abyss was here, no doubt about it.
There! A movement amongst the trees. Something was there. Springing into action, Artorias leapt from the cliff, soaring through the air with the majesty of a great bird. He whipped his sword from his sheath, summoning magic about his feet. He plummeted towards the earth, ripping through the canopy of the forest and colliding with the ground at a startling speed, shattering the ground below him. A soft light pooled at his feet, the magic that protected him from harm. He snapped his head up and charging at the creature swinging his great sword in an almighty ark, hurling its deadly blade towards his foe. It struck the ground, splitting the very rock in two and burying itself deeply in the earth. He had missed, deliberately moving the blade a fraction of a second before impact. For the thing before Artorias was no monster or foe. It was a cat.
"Please! I mean no harm!" it wailed, backing away quickly in fear.
Artorias simply stared at the creature, slightly bewildered. What in the heavens was it doing here? He tore his sword from the ground and replaced it upon his back, just as Sif came bounding to his side. He stroked the wolf apologetically, he had left him back on the cliff without warning. Rising to his feet, he and turned back to the cat who was now backed up against one of the large trees that created the forest, paws covering it's face.
"Please, please leave me be!" it howled, raising a paw to Artorias. It was small, hardly any bigger than a kitten. Though its fur was pure white, a black stripe down its back. Which meant it was something much more than a mere animal. This was a forest guardian, an eternal sprite who would one day grow to protect this great land.
"Just go away…" the cat whimpered, hiding its face from Artorias.
Disappointed in himself that he had been so reckless, Artorias threw down his weapons and crouched beside the cat. It was terrified, and with good reason. Artorias cursed internally, he needn't be so eager for blood that he should risk harming an innocent creature.
"My deepest apologies. I mistook you for a threat, though it is clear I was mistaken. I am sorry for startling you so. My name is-"
"Artorias" the cat cut in "A knight no less. You were called here to save Oolacile."
"I…yes. How did you know that?"
"I heard of your coming. The winds carried your name to me, but now even they have perished. Turn back, brave knight. This land is fouled, its inhabitants corrupted. Manus has been awakened and his anger is consuming the lands themselves. Return to whence you came, lest this land swallow you whole. You are not the first traveller here. Please, I beg of you, great and holy knight. Flee this land!"
Artorias was a little perturbed by the guardian's words. He knew the damage would be bad, but it sounded like it was worse than predicted.
"What is your name?"
"Alvina. Alvina Velenta of the Forest guardians."
"Listen to me Alvina. I am going to put an end to this."
"You will fail as so many have before you! If you have any sense of value for your life, please turn back now!" The kitten pleaded with him.
"I cannot, lest I forfeit my honour as a Knight of Gwyn."
"A knight of…Surely you are not…The Abysswalker?"
"I thought you knew of my coming?"
"I was unaware that you were…The Artorias. Yes, yes maybe there is hope for Oolacile. Your advent was predicted, and you could not have come sooner, champion of the abyss. Oolacile is in turmoil, Manus has corrupted the town beyond recognition. But his reach will not end there. If left unchecked, the abyss would extinguish all light in this world!"
"That is why I was dispatched, Forest guardian. I need to know what I will face. What challenges lie before me?"
The cat shuddered.
"Unspeakable things. Horrible, horrible things." It whimpered. Suddenly it let out a cry and hid its face against the bark of tree.
"What? Please, you must tell me" Artorias put a hand on the kitten's back, stroking it and leaning closer.
"They are no longer human…" it whispered "They need to be dealt with…please, you must end their misery!"
"The inhabitants? What happened to them?"
"Their humanity. That fragment of the dark soul that resides within all humans. Manus can tap into it. He can unshackle its power, drive it into uncontrollable mutation. The townsfolk, the mages, they never stood a chance."
"So they have fallen to the abyss…"
Whispers, voices at the back of his mind. The darkness, the never ending darkness. It was there, right in front of him. He could see it. And it could see him. It peered into the essence of his soul, and it whispered to him.
Come to me Artorias. Be one with the dark.
"Knight!?"
Artorias snapped out of his dream, realising the cat had been calling his name.
"Again, I apologise. It appears my age is catching up with me. Do continue."
"I have said all I can to help you. Please, oh brave, honourable and holy sovereign. Do what you can for Oolacile. Though I fear it may already be too late…"
"Shoulder your fears. I will put an end to this." He rose to his feet. "Will you be safe?"
The creature nodded. He raised his blade, waved to the cat and continued to the town.
"Dusk!"
Artorias looked back along the path to see the cat bounding after him. It was almost a comical sight, the small kitten hurrying clumsily towards him.
"Princess Dusk, she is still within the town! She was abducted. Please, you must save her!"
"Another survivor? Blast, this rather complicates the matter. I will do all I can for her Alvina, but if what you say is true than I fear her safety may be compromised."
"Her safety" the cat panted. "Her safety…it must be secured."
"Why?"
"Her knowledge. She is the last member of the Oolacile royal family. If the great sorceries of Oolacile are to be preserved, she must be saved. She is the only one who knows of their secrets."
"I shall do all I can. But by all accounts…well, time may already have run out for her. Await my return Alvina. I shall not be long."
And with that he turned on his heel and departed at speed, Sif bounding alongside him. The cat too turned away, heading up the path, away from the town and towards the cliff he had sat upon earlier. The town soon loomed before Artorias as he and Sif continued down the forest track. He began to feel cold, the familiar chills he had experienced is his darkest nightmares crept up on him again. This was going to be interesting. He scaled the decayed wall of the city, Sif close behind. Soon he was atop it, and the town lay before him. But the sight was not a pleasant one…
Alvina wasn't lying. The thing before Artorias was human no longer. It was wretched, a twisted and monstrous version of the human it had once been. Its arms, long and arching, nearly twice their usual length hung at its sides. The elbows were inverted, bending the arms at an obscure angle, its hands now heavy claws. Its torso was worn and burnt, its skin a sickeningly pale colour, almost transparent in the harsh sunlight. But its head. It made Artorias sick to his core to gaze upon the terrible creature. Its head was greatly inflated, perhaps twice the size of a normal human. But it was so twisted it was beyond recognition. It was covered in eyes, dozens of them, glowing red with pain and anger. Its mouth was ripped wide open, hundreds of tiny claw like appendages spewing from its throat. Its whole head, the parts that weren't consumed with the blank, staring eyes, was wreathed in thorn like spikes. Rough patches of scales were visible across its entire being. But perhaps worse than its appearance was its voice. He had expected a moan, a screech, some inhuman sound from such an inhuman figure. But it didn't. It laughed. It laughed and laughed. The whole town, all of them laughing. It was the most haunting sound the man had heard in his life. Did they even know what had become of themselves?
And To think, that this awful creature was once human. Artorias quickly dashed this thought from his mind. If he allowed himself to feel compassion for this beast, even for a moment he would lose his focus. And looking at the town, teeming with countless hordes of these monstrosities, focus would be more than crucial to him.
He studied the town. The whole thing was built in levels, a great hole, leading down to the flat arena at its base. A cathedral. A market. That coliseum. A row of houses. A grand staircase that lead down a cliff face. Down. The abyss. This was surely his destination. He studied the town once more, his vantage point from upon its high walls gave him an almost unimpeded view of the settlement. He memorised the route to the stairs. It was perhaps a half hours walk at a slow pace from here. It would take Artorias minutes.
Artorias took a deep breath, checking for Sif. The wolf was by his side, teeth barred, his back arched. He slowly drew his sword, allowing it to fill his soul, resonating deep within him. He and the blade were one. One in front of him, back turned. Several more a few feet away. Dozens at the base of the town. The creatures were everywhere. He placed his shield on his back in place of his sword, which now rested in his hands. He wouldn't have time to block, there were too many. He would have to dispatch them quickly. This was not going to be easy, yet he had no other option. He was ready.
Three…
Two…
One…
Exploding into action the knight hurled himself from the wall. He shot forward, blade at his side. The monster turned, just in time to see the black face of death hurtling towards him. He swung, the blade slicing through flesh and bone like it was nothing. The creatures head flew off its shoulders from the force, blood erupting from its neck. The other fiends were aware of him now.
Two on either side, one centre. He ran forward, roaring with the fuel of battle. His cry cut through the air, the strength of gods at his heels, moving almost impossibly fast. Contact! He sliced to the left and sheared one of them in two. He hooked his foot round its remains and hurled it at the closets beast, knocking it off balance. Sprinting past it, his blade buried itself in the skull of another. He tore it out, swinging it around and slamming its tip into the back of the one he had passed. It howled and fell to the ground. Placing his boot on its shoulder he tore his blade free, blood and sinew drenching his armour. He had never felt more alive.
Behind him! Damn, one of the beasts had flanked him. He swung his blade, but it was going to be too late. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, the great grey wolf leapt upon the hideous thing, digging its teeth deep into the monster's throat. It flailed and screamed as Sif tore it apart, ripping through flesh and splintering bone. He bit deep, severing its neck. The beast lay still.
"Good…good boy." He panted. "Not finished yet Sif. Let's go."
Bolting forward, the two leapt from the highest level of the town into the open area at its base. He looked down. There were dozens of them. He smiled to himself. This would be fun."
He let out the piercing war cry once more, the creatures turning to face him. He accelerated through the air, roaring madly at them, weapon in hand.
One of them didn't get out of the way in time. He landed upon it, crushing it beneath his boots and plunging his sword deep into its spine. There was series of sickening cracks as he snapped the thing in two, then knelt down upon it, bowing his head.
For a moment, the corrupted humans unsure how to proceed. This thing before them was insane, its power immeasurable. Finally, their corrupted minds sent them into the frenzy Artorias had expected. One of them ran at him madly, clawed hands ready to strike. He kept his head bowed until it was within reach. Perfect.
Artorias ripped the blade from its rest and swung it in a great ark, slicing the beast arm off. It spiralled into the air, spewing dark blood upon the pack. Before it could react, the sword was already in motion again, piercing its chest. Artorias wrenched the sword free and vaulted over the dying creature, slicing through another with a downward slash from mid-air. He landed and was instantly surrounded. No problem. Not for Artorias. He span around, a whirlwind of steel, whipping his sword through the pack carving through their exposed flesh. Slicing, hacking and swinging his blade madly, the knight went into a berserk frenzy. Rage consumed him, driving him forward. These things, these god damned monsters. They were not human. They were not human. They were NOT human. He screamed again, cutting open a rib cage followed by a kicked to its exposed organs. It was all a blur now, blood and bone flying all around him. He caught a glimpse of Sif, tackling the things to the ground and savaging them before they could react. It was a massacre, the force of the man carving through the monsters. He almost felt a sense of pity for them. Outmatched was an understatement. His armour was impenetrable, his speed impossible, his blade unstoppable
One of the creatures caught him with a glancing blow, sending his weapon spiralling out his hand. Bastard! But he was too far gone. The furry of battle flowed through him. He didn't need the damn sword. Nothing could halt him now.
One of them leapt at him, but Artorias utilised his unbelievable speed. Like the wind itself, he wheeled around, slamming his fist into the monster's throat, crushing its neck and hurling it into the crowd knocking many others to the ground. He hurled himself at them, smashing his boot into one of their skulls, its head bursting into a red mist. His fist rammed into the chest of another, piercing its skin instantly. He felt for its still beating heart, grabbed it and crushed. It roared and he flung its lifeless corpse away, crashing into one of its friends with a sickening crunch. He grabbed an arm, ramming his open palm into its elbow, snapping it like a twig. An exposed leg, a quick strike to the shin sent another flying. No longer could he distinguish one creature from another. They were all just flesh now, a series of weak points and kill spots to his expertly trained eyes. Another skull burst under his boot, he back flipped over another and snapped its neck. Punching into one of their backs he tore out a spine and flung it away. But it was becoming overwhelming, there were seemingly endless numbers of these accursed things. Suddenly he became aware of Sif, bounding towards him, something clutched in his mouth. The wolf flicked its head, hurling something into the air towards Artorias. His sword!
He leapt into the air and raised his hand, catching the blade. In one swift and decisive movement he slashed diagonally before him, cleaving several of the advancing monsters in half. And it was over. He landed, swinging the blade round him in another, massive arc. The whole encounter had lasted no more than a few minutes. A sea of splintered bones and destroyed corpses lay before him. Insurmountable odds? What a joke. These poor creatures never stood a chance.
Sif barked, running down the street. He looked up, one of the things was still alive. Suddenly on his feet, he sprinted towards it, sword already in hand. Almost instantly he was upon it. A single stab to the heart felled the monster. He drew his sword from its chest, flicked the blood from its blade and placed it upon his back, this time certain they were all finished. Interestingly however, the thing had led him into the cathedral. He looked around, examining the decaying brickwork. This place would have been quite the sight in its time. But it was a fragile relic now, a victim of time. But it was not the architecture that drew Artorias' attention. At the end of the room was a rather peculiar sight. An enormous, glistening crystal, almost the same size as Artorias himself. He approached it, sensing something was amiss before he had even reached it. Then he saw it. Trapped within the crystal, suspended before him, was the Princess Dusk. She was unmoving, a look of horror upon her features. He approached the crystal, running his hand along its cold exterior, examining it with morbid interest. He peered deep within it, studying the princess's face.
The princess stared at him, unblinking, her eyes following him about the room. It was a horrifying thought terrible fate to meet with, but Artorias was here to put a stop to it.
He placed a hand upon the crystal, gazing at the trapped princess. She was a beautiful woman, every feature of her exquisitely defined. Her rich, flowing dress was of the finest quality, her face even with a look of fear managed to retain an innate beauty.
"Damn you." He muttered. "Of course, one had to get themselves caught up in affairs that didn't concern them." He rummaged in his pouch, pulling out a small, cracked bone. The thing was tiny and looked as though it belonged to a rodent. This was not the case. The crystal was a creation of magic, impenetrable by blade or metal. Artorias was proficient in magic use, but he knew not of how to deal with this. He looked at the bone in his hand. When crushed, the bone could be used to transport the user to any destination desired by them. It was to be his means of escape. He had but one. But no. the gods had decided that this would be his fate, he would be forced to sacrifice his only possible means of escape should all things fail. He crushed the bone in his hand, muttered "Anor Londo" and then hurled the dust at the crystal and the imprisoned princess. It shimmered, the air rippled and she vanished before him. The healers of Anor Londo would undoubtedly be able to free her from her torment. He slammed his fist upon the ground, cursing his misfortune and that of those around him. This whole thing had been a mess from the moment he arrived in the Royal wood. He thought of the countless humans he had killed on his way into the decaying city. Damn the abyss. It was to blame for this. He held on to that thought, allowing his anger to give him strength. Whence the abyss has been halted, his quest would be over. It was as simple as that. He knew the reality was different, but for now he needed the comfort. Even the strongest of men had a point at which they could stand strong no longer.
He left the cathedral, reached the top of the great staircase and descended. The abyss was calling him, welcoming him back to its cold embrace. The pendant gifted to him by Ornstein began give of a warming sensation against his chest. He could feel the whispering voices of the abyss rescinding, the shadows falling away. And there it was. At the foot of the great staircase. A cave. Black and unwelcoming. He had reached his destination.
"Had to be a cave, didn't it Sif?"
The two sat around the small make-shift campfire, staring deeply into the flames. Flame, such a fleeting thing. That was where all this had started. Heat and cold. Life and death. Light and dark. Dark. It was so dark. Even the fire seemed black. It was all black. Everything. All of Lordran. The whole world. Shadow was the only thing that seemed absolute to Artorias. For even when all light had gone, what remained? Darkness.
He shuddered. It was the abyss. He couldn't let it get to him, not here. He needed his strength, in body and in mind. Sif slept quietly, illuminated by the fire. Such an innocent creature, surely there was still good in this world. He turned his attention back to the flame, trying to make sense of its ever changing form. What was the flame? Was it little more than heat and light? Was there truly some great power behind it? Artorias could not believe that such a small thing was the cause of so much. The great cities, the age of Lords, all had come about because of it. And the curse. The damned curse. Shapes began to form in the fire before him. He saw Lordran, Boletaria to the east, Anor Londo, Drangleic. Drangleic. He had almost forgotten about his old life. Or rather, his new life. He had thought he could remain as Jeddit the hunter for the rest of his days. Yet here he was, Artorias once more. If only he had ignored that letter. But then, what would have become of Lordran?
It didn't matter anymore. He was here now, and little would change that. Suddenly he heard a small voice behind him.
"So…you made it."
He turned slowly. Perched on a rock above him was Avlina, the kitten from before.
"You? I thought you returned home?" He asked suspiciously.
"I heard the sounds from the town. I came to see if you had survived." She leapt down onto his lap. "You…slaughtered them."
"They were monsters. They needed to die." He said defensively.
"They look as if some terrible monster ripped them apart in a frenzy!" She squeaked.
"I lost my temper. That is all." He grumbled.
The cat poked his armour angrily. "You need to be careful, Artorias! You can't lose your mind to the Abyss!" she leapt onto his shoulder. "I'm trying to help. You need to keep your sanity, lest the abyss creep into your soul."
He picked her up and placed her back on the ground. "Duly noted."
She sighed, and began to walk away. "Good luck, great knight." She said, before dashing off.
The cave mouth reeked of the abyss, black veins growing from it, spreading across the walls and floor. It was here, there was no doubt about it. And there it was again. The chill. Even the pendant could not stop it. It may block the darkness of the abyss, but it could do nothing for the darkness within Artorias. Cautiously, the man and his wolf entered the cave. Whether they would return, that was a different story. The cave appeared like any other, dark and vast. Stalactites hung from the roof of its great caverns, both those and the very rock tinged with a purple hue. It was unsettling, for once again there was no sound to speak of. No wind, no echo, the sound of water dripping form the cave. Even his own footsteps seemed devoid of sound. This was wrong. There was no way this place had formed naturally. Was this the extent of Manus' power? Could he possibly have created this vast space alone?
Deeper and deeper they journeyed, but the cave showed little sign of reaching its end. He became very aware that they were not alone here. The twisting tunnels and great caverns were home to something else, he could feel it. But what? He stopped, placing a hand upon the ground. Then he bent down and smelled the very rocks themselves, Sif watching curiously. Yes, that was it. Unmistakeable. The smell of the Dark Soul itself. There was a massive amount of humanity in this place, perhaps more of those beast from Oolacile. Yet somehow Artorias doubted that. They had not passed any yet, it is unlikely they would hide themselves. It was something else.
"Don't go"
Artorias whipped round, blade in hand. There was nothing, just the vast empty cave. He had heard something, there was no doubt about it. A voice, a child's voice, he was sure of it. Was he losing his mind? He lowered his weapon, turning around to check the dark corners of the cave. Raising the silver pendant, he unleashed its power, bright light spilling from it, pushing back the shadows. There was nothing. Only the dark walls of the cave. Shuddering, he replaced the pendant. Suddenly, he became shockingly aware of the sensation of a hand upon his shoulder. He snapped round again, blade ready. Nothing. He checked Sif. The wolf seemed un-phased by the cave.
"Help me."
Nothing. There was no one. He gripped tightly to the pendant. He must be losing his sanity. Curse the dark. He continued his passage through the cave, but he had barely progressed a step when;
"Daddy?"
He lashed around, expecting to be met with nothing once more. He wished that was the case. What met his eyes turned his guts inside out.
A child, no taller than Artorias' waist stood about a meter away. But it was no longer human. It was jet black, resembling a standing shadow. It was surrounded with an aura of white light, making it stand out against the blackness of the cave. It had no features, except for two white holes where its eyes had been. It stood vacantly, the knight wasn't even sure if it was aware of its surrounding. He had seen this once before. It was a terrible fate to be met with. The child had been consumed by the humanity that lived within it. Not corrupted, not mutated, simply devoured. When exposed to certain elements, the fragment of the Dark Soul amplified itself, growing within its host until it as large enough to take them over completely. Then they became this. The child was still inside there, unable to think freely anymore, its thoughts little more than fragments of what it had been. Maybe it thought it was alive. Maybe it thought it was still human. But it was nothing anymore. These were called Human effigies. The echo of a long lost human, its near lifeless corpse animated by the power of the Dark Soul. They were prisoners of their own bodies, and unlike the mutated beasts in Oolacile, he felt a wave of pity for it.
"Daddy?" it muttered again, taking a shuddering step towards him.
He stepped back. The thing was pure humanity now. It was dangerous, even to touch. Did it know? Was it even aware how dead it was? That it was little more than a corpse, animated by darkness.
"Daddy." It called. "Please help me."
Its voice was shuddering and hollow. He had never seen anything so terrible in all his days. He cursed the abyss out loud, how could such a thing happen? If only he had arrived sooner, he could have stopped all this…
Slowly, he raised his sword as the child took another uncertain steps, its arms outstretched towards him. He raised the sword high above his head and closed his eyes
"Forgive me." He whispered.
The blade came crashing down with immense force. There was the sound of metal slicing through flesh, then silence. He opened his eyes. It was over.
"Daddy?"
Shuddering, every hair on his body stood on end, Artorias slowly turned his head to see the source of the voice. Sif stood by his side growling, his back arched.
"By Gwyn…"
Crawling from every crack and crevice in the room, illuminated by the white aura around them, they appeared. Dozens of them, men women and children. There must have been hundreds of them, all shuffling about in the darkness, their blank eyes staring vacantly at Artorias. He couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. It was too terrible to even begin to understand. The people…they must have retreated to the cave. A place even those hideous fiends in the town were afraid to enter. And they had died here, scared alone, begging for help. That's what they were saying. Their voices. It was their last memory before they had become Effigies. And now they were stuck, not alive, not dead.
They all gathered in a mass a good distance away from Artorias, as if for warmth. Here, this is where it had happened. They were reliving their last moments, huddled in a group as the darkness consumed them. He couldn't begin to fathom what it must have been like for them.
He wanted to help them. He wanted to do something. But there was nothing. The only reason he and Sif were even able to exist here was through the protective magic woven into Artorias' being. And he could not wield that, only allow it to protect him. There was nothing he could do for them now. He looked past them. The path continued on the other side of the crowd. He would have to get past these things, right through the thick of the crowd. Sif growled at the wretched abominations. The wolf was impervious to them, as he was not born of the Dark soul. There was nothing they could do to hurt him. But Artorias, though he himself was not human, was still susceptible to their aura. It was pure soul energy, powerful in small doses, deadly when concentrated. He clutched the pendant. It was warm, soft and pleasant to hold. He allowed it to resonate deep within him, allowing it's power to intertwine with the magic deep within him. The magic he had called upon so many times. The two forces met, the powers flowed freely together, melding within his soul. And then they amplified, white light wreathing him, encompassing his whole body and spilling out into the darkness of the room. It gathered and swirled around him before gently sinking back into his flesh. This would be enough.
Carefully, the pair edged towards the horde of Effigies. They shambled and muttered, some of their words indistinguishable. Few turned to meet him, blank eyes staring vacantly ahead, following his movement. A pair of the creatures walked in front of his path, holding hands and whispering to each other. He listened closely, making out their mumbled conversation.
"I hear it"
"It found us. Its over"
"You won't leave me?"
"Never"
"I love you"
"I love you too"
"I'll miss you."
"We will always be together."
The couple turned to look at each other. The taller of the two leaned close to the other until they were face to face, as if ready to kiss. It gazed at its partner for a moment before appearing to lose interest and glanced back at the walls of the cave. The two wandered off, leaving Artorias and Sif a clear route to the exit. He made it to the other side of the horde, turning back one last time. There were so many, man sized, child sized, all different. Some could still be distinguished as female. There was that couple again. All of them, trapped by their very souls, condemned to remain here in the twilight of undeath. This wasn't fair.
Artorias' grip tightened and he clenched his teeth. Whatever was responsible would pay for this.
He left the sorry sight, skirting around the last of the Effigies and making his way into a vast open cavern. The room was huge, its corners obscured by darkness. It appeared empty, but… there was something here. He was sure of it now. He room almost felt artificial, as if the shadows were painted by an unseen hand. He could feel its power, immense in stature. What was it? It wasn't the Dark soul. Was it? No, it was something more. What was that, surely it couldn't be. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent. By the Lords of fire, it was. The scent was the Dark Soul no doubt, but Artorias, neigh, anyone had ever felt it in such concentration before. Whatever was here, its power was impossible. The fragments of that black soul were never supposed to be brought back together, never supposed to be found in such strength. But here, the place reeked of it. His head span, his legs buckled. It was too much. The scent was overpowering. There was something here, something he could not even begin to fathom. He coughed and chocked, pushing the feelings out of mind and staggering to his feet. It was impossible, how could such a creature exist? His mind was decaying, age was truly catching up on him. There was nothing there. Wait.
There was.
There was something there.
Horror, absolute horror consumed him. He couldn't move, fear lashing him to the ground. The shadows, the very shadows themselves were moving. They were shifting, something emerging from deep within them. Swirling, dancing in a hypnotic motion, the darkness shifted, revealing something he wished he had never seen. It was enormous, towering leagues above the knight. Its skin was hard and black, darker than the blackness of the abyss itself. Its arms were titanic, thicker than tree trunks, one clutching a devastating looking axe cruelly crafted from human bone. Its head was a mass of explosively grown bones, sweeping backwards in a way that was strangely beautiful. Red lights could be seen all across its massive frame, shining through cracks in its brittle flesh. It swung its massive frame towards Artorias, slow and lumbering in its movement. Was this he? Primeval man? It was frightening to see how violently Humanity could mutate. The beasts on the surface, the Effigies, nothing compared to this. But there was no doubt any more. This was Manus. Father of the Abyss. Darkness incarnate.
It saw him. It knew him.
The Abyss walker. The holy Templar who carried light wherever he went. He who would cast away the shadows of the abyss. Manus let out a deep, echoing roar. This little creature was nothing. And Artorias felt the same. He gazed at Manus, a fear the likes of which he had never felt consumed him. Manus's power was nearly limitless, a monster forged from spite and hatred, a master of darkness. How could he possibly bring it down?
He shook his head. No! This beast, this foul engine of chaos was but another unwritten victory for the knight. Its power was great, there was no doubting that. But he was Artorias. He would win. Leaping into the air, Artorias roared, his blade aimed perfectly for the beast's skull. This would be it, the greatest victory Artorias had ever known! Triumph over Darkness!
The great beast seemed almost unaware of the knight as he hurled himself forward. But at the last second, with a burst of impossible speed, the titanic monster flung itself out of the way of his blade. Artorias struck the ground, splitting rock and stone. What in the heavens?
Sif stood by him, the two staring down the titanic monster. It raised its axe and bellowed, a drawn out and inhuman sound. Then it struck.
Artorias and Sif were ready. As the massive axe swung through the air, the two had already leapt clear of the devastating weapon. It buried itself deep in the ground, leaving Manus wide open to a counter attack. He saw the window and took it. He leapt onto the axe, running its length and onto the bests arm. He flipped nimbly onto its shoulder, grabbing a tuft of black fur and met it face to face. Raising the almighty great sword above his head, Artorias focused all his power into the blade. The blue glow turned white, and light erupted from the blade. Roaring with primal furry, he plunged the blade deep into the creatures skull.
It screamed, jerking and convulsing wildly. Artorias ripped the blade free and jumped from atop the beast back to the ground where Sif sat, watching in awe. Manus bucked and screamed, deep purple blood erupting from its broken skull. Artorias was sure he had landed the killing blow. But slowly, the beast stopped. It clutched its face, cleaved almost in two by the holy sword. Shadow swirled around its skull, and then. Artorias looked on, awe struck. Manus removed is hand, the creature's skull now perfectly reformed. It laughed, an ear splitting howl of triumph.
He swept up the sword once more. He ignored what he had just seen, it was just a trick. He would simply have to fell the beast before it could regenerate its wounds. He could this. He rushed forward once more, blade in hand and Sif at his side.
Something, a huge black fist from nowhere powered into Artorias. It smashed into his side, driving the wind from his lungs. He felt his armour breaking at the sudden blow. Pain surged through him, all-consuming and destructive. His vision blurred and he was hurled across the room. He struck the wall, hard. There was a loud snap and the sound of metal grinding on rock. His left arm shattered, bone splintering through the skin. He fell to the ground roaring in pain, his destroyed arm hung limply at his side. The magic protecting Artorias from the abyss was gone. He was exposed and could already feel the darkness eating into his heart. Planting his sword in the ground, the knight pulled himself to his feet, weapon ready in hand, greeted by the sight of the terrible beast.
He staggered forward, armour dented and battered, the azure cloth stained with blood, his sword cracked and chipped. He hardly resembled the mighty warrior he was supposed to be. He let out a low growl, walking stutteringly towards Manus, his left arm swaying by his side, wrenched and broken.
"Gonna…Kill…you…" he mumbled.
But it was useless. He could feel it. The burning. The abyss was swarming into him, corrupting his soul. Even now he was failing, falling into darkness. He had little time, for soon he would become a creature of the abyss, a hollow shell of himself. Manus had to die. That was all he could focus on. It would all end. All of it. As soon as that monster was dead.
It wasn't fair. He had braved fire and rain, surmounted the impossible and saved countless lives in his many adventures. He had found friends, love and even a new life in Drangleic. He was finally going to give up his old ways and start a new existence, one of peace and prosperity. But all that was slipping away from, like water in his hands. He thought of Ornstein and Ciaran, of Sif and Drangleic. Ciaran. She would never know. He would never see her again. He allowed a tear to roll down his face. It wasn't fair.
Sif! If the magic protecting Artorias was gone, then the great wolf was vulnerable too. He looked to his side. The faithful hound was there, watching his companion slowly fall to darkness. The wolf knew something was wrong, but there was nothing it could do. Artorias staggered towards his oldest and most faithful. But he could already see the black smoke creeping up the hound's legs. Sif had little time left.
"Sif…there you are. Your… you're a good boy Sif. Very good…very…" Artorias muttered, his vision cloudy, thoughts distorted.
Manus backed away, letting out a deep growl. It knew its prey was finished. He would let the darkness take him.
Sif remained at Artorias side. He reached out with his good hand and stroked the wolf's head softly. He looked up and saw Ciarin, Gough and Ornstein before him. There was a look of sadness upon each of their faces, and they stared pitifully at him.
"Ah…your all here…good...good. I'm sorry, for I have availed you nothing. The spread of the abyss…I am sorry. But I was not strong enough. Forgive me, my friends." He wept, bowing his head and leaning heavily upon his sword.
He looked again. They were gone.
Manus roared with laughter, its hideous voice echoing through the cave. Artorias became angry at its mockery. How dare the monster do this to him. Had it not the honour to finish him? Well, it may have bested Artorias, but I would not get Sif.
"I won't…won't…let you die here Sif…no…not you too."
Jarringly, with little balance left in him, Artorias staggered to his feet, planting his blade firmly in the ground and reaching for his shield. Manus roared. What was the little creature doing?
Artorias, The Abysswalker. An unbendable will of steel. Manus should have remembered who he was dealing with. With the last of his fleeting power, Artorias raised his shield. It had been upon his back the entire encounter, and he finally called upon its power. A power he had always hoped he would never be forced to use. The abyss would consume this land. It was no longer safe here. The shield glowed, humming, slowly turning white. The noise intensified and the shield reformed itself into a ball of pure light in Artorias hand, casting back the shadows of the room. As the light struck Manus he screamed, forcing the hideous fiend into retreat. Artorias looked at Sif, whispered "Good bye", then hurled the ball of light at the confused wolf. There was a flash. Sif was gone.
With the last of his power, Artorias saved his faithful companion. Sif had been cast through time, forward, to an age where the abyss was no longer a threat. He would be safe there, or as close to safe as was possible in Lordran. It was not over yet however. Revenge heavy in his now corrupted heart, Artorias staggered towards the Dread father.
"Face me Manus! Face me!" He roared, his voice terrifying, distorted and corrupted, yet no less menacing.
Manus bellowed, hurling itself forward, coming face to face with Artorias. He was nothing of what he had been. His armour was battered and dented, the azure cloth now black, purple smoke trailing from his body. His left arm hung limply at his side, bone and metal all wrenched into one. Manus growled, mere inches from his face. The creature was truly terrible, a monstrosity that had to die.
"You, you are nothing Manus! You hear me? Nothing!" But the words never reached his lips. All that spewed from his mouth a deep and hollowing roar. It was inhuman, rattling, screeching sound, akin to a beast of the abyss. He collapsed once more, and could no longer hold off the abyss. He was doomed now, he would become a creature of darkness, killing any who tried to stop his mad rampage. As the last fragment of his souls was consumed, Artorias thought of his lost life once more, his last thought as a man. And with his passing breath, he muttered softly to himself.
"I'll miss you…Ciarin."