~Many centuries later~
The Creature stood on the other side of the Coliseum from the un-dead warrior. The thing was huge, a towering creature wielding an immense sword, wrapped in what was likely once an impressive coat of arms. The warrior stared at the beast, its face obscured by a steel helm. The foul thing snapped its head towards the warrior, letting out an ear splitting screech as it did. The two had been duelling for long time now. Both were worn down, the hideously deformed knight and the undead. The undead braced itself, raising its shield in defence and flicking its long sword from its sheath. The monstrous knight hurled itself across the room, its left arm hanging by its side. But the warrior was ready. In an impossible feat, the undead side stepped the monster, slashing back with its blade. The beast skidded past him, howling in pain. The undead warrior span around, hurling wicked mage fire at him. It struck the monster, burning through him and sending it crashing to the ground, crumpled and defeated.
The undead warrior stood over the corpse of the beast that had tried to kill him. The warrior had journeyed far to reach Oolacile, only to find it a corrupt sprawl of death and madness. Black veins wreathed the whole town, and its residents had become unholy beasts of Darkness. The warrior had come to halt the abyss, a threat to the land and a fear amongst the few who survived here. But before the hero had even reached the caves of the Abyss, it had stumbled across something it had never expected.
The warrior had heard tales and legends. Artorias. The abyss walker. Accordingly, he had entered the town centuries before to halt the abyss himself. But something had happened, and the knight never returned. But many claimed they had seen him, a withered, decayed creature that stalked the streets of Oolacile. A wolf, large and grey stood by the undead warrior's side. The great wolf had attacked the undead in the royal forest surrounding the town, but the hero proved too strong for the wolf. The warrior, rather than kill it, took the wolf as its companion. Together, the two had journeyed to the town, but the wolf had insisted on heading towards the coliseum. And it was here the warrior had met Artorias. But he was sad to see the legends were correct, for the monster that had tried to kill him was the great knight no longer. The fight had been short, hardly a true test of the hero's skill. Corruption had truly set in on the once holy Templar.
The warrior held the corrupted heroes soul in its hand, feeling the power of Artorias flowing through him. The wolf gazed up at the hero, whining. It walked over to the corpse of the crazed knight and bowed its head. What on earth was it doing?
"I knew you would come." A soft voice called out.
The hero turned to the doors of the coliseum to see whom had spoken. Before the hero was a woman, dressed in black with a long flowing cloak. She was clutching a gravestone and a white cat sat upon her shoulder.
"O chosen undead, you have journeyed far. You, in your great stature, would chose to save Oolacile? Then you have the thanks of many. But your quest must not end with the Abyss. You have a journey to finish, your quest yet to be completed."
The cat hopped from her shoulders and approached too.
"We must thank you. The man you slew, he was long lost to the darkness. Finally, he can be at rest, thanks to you." It said to the warrior, who merely looked at the two from behind it's steel helmet.
The woman walked over to the corpse, lying twisted and broken upon the cold floor. She lifted the flagstones, revealing a deep grave. Gently and with all the care of a woman with her new born child, she placed the immense corpse in the grave. She placed the gravestone heavily upon the ground, marking the point where the knight had fallen. The wolf and the cat moved to her side. She stood up and turned to the hero. She was crying.
"Thank you. Oh thank you my hero. Truly, if there is any hope for this land, it rests with you. Now go, fulfil your legend. We are forever in your debt." She gestured to her two companions. The warrior said nothing. She glanced at the soul in his hand. Souls were usually brilliant and white, but this one was deep purple, corrupted by the abyss.
"That is his soul is it not? I understand your power to consume souls" They are able to strengthen your own power. But…may I ask that you would part with your prize? I know it is much to ask, but I wish to pay my respects to Artorias with this soul. Please?"
The warrior held up the soul, staring at it through the helmet. The warrior gazed at it for quite some time, as if he were about to consume it, then handed it to the woman.
"Thank you, oh thank you great hero. Now you must depart. Once Manus has fallen, the lords will surely follow. Go now, mighty hero. Make yourself a legend."
The warrior nodded and turned towards the door of the coliseum. It wave over his shoulder at the group, then departed without a word. It had a mission to accomplish.
"A mysterious hero for a mysterious time" Ciaran muttered.
She knelt by the grave stone, placing the soul of Artorias on the ground before it. Sif and Alvina sat beside her, gazing at the glowing soul. As it slowly faded away, Ciaran began to sob gently once more.
"Artorias…I miss you."
And though it was impossible, she could swear she felt Artorias at her side, his hand upon her shoulder She wept bitterly, her pain reaching the hearts of the two creatures at her side, who joined her in her sorrow. It was over now, Artorias was finally at rest. Ciaran dismissed the two powerful beings, for they too had tasks to complete themselves. Alvina returned to the forest, now its great protector. Sif bounded after the undead warrior, determined to help its new master. But Ciaran, she had nothing. Ornstein lay dead, fallen at the hands of the very warrior she had faced moments before. But she felt no hatred or anger towards the hero. It was his destiny, his only option. Ornstein had opposed him, and he had paid the price. Truly, he was a warrior to be reckoned with. So Ciaran let the hero pass, its legend still unwritten, the challenge of facing the great lords still lay before it. She sat down with her back to the grave. She was old, her life was fading. This place, the grave of Artorias, was all she had left now. She had no purpose, no will to continue. She closed her eyes, allowing rest to take her. And finally, she was reunited with her lover once more. She was finally at peace.
The End.