"Thou defeated Sir Ornstein? Captain of the Four Knights? His skills art legendary..." Priscilla said, looking at Yeral with a sense of awe. Everyone in Anor Londo had heard the tales of Ornstein's bravery and power. He had stood by Gwyn's side since before Lordran was founded, aiding in the war against the dragons. Of course, Priscilla wasn't sure how she felt about dragon slaying, but it was an impressive feat nonetheless. Sir Yeral must be mighty indeed... assuming the story was true.
"Well, I cannot claim all the credit. If Reise had not been there, I surely would have perished." Yeral said quickly, sounding slightly unsure of himself. This modesty only further convinced Priscilla that he was telling the truth. If he were boasting, he wouldn't admit to needing help. Although, there was still a lingering question that had been nagging at Priscilla's mind...
"Where is Lady Reise? What hath become of her?" she asked curiously. From the way Yeral had acted before, she suspected that something unfortunate had befallen the knight. Yet, in all of Yeral's tales, Reise was still alive and well. Yeral looked down at the ground, saying nothing. Priscilla frowned slightly. What was the knight hiding from her? "Please, Sir Yeral, I asketh thee. Hath a tragedy occurred?" she said gently, placing her hand on Yeral's shoulder.
Yeral's eyes were shut tight, as if he were trying not to think about it. He was thankful that Priscilla could not see his face, now more than ever. He knew that the crossbreed was well-meaning, that she only wanted the truth. Slowly, he brushed her hand off his shoulder, shaking his head. As Priscilla looked at him worriedly, Yeral spoke up sadly.
"Reise is gone." he muttered quietly, looking up at Priscilla's face. Priscilla said nothing – that had been the response she expected. The two sat together in silence for a long time, each contemplating the scenario in their heads. Priscilla was curious about why Yeral seemed so keen to hide the details from her. Yeral was debating back and forth as to whether or not he should tell her. Eventually, Yeral slowly stood up and turned away. He couldn't tell her. Besides, there was really no reason for him to stick around the Painted World anymore. Right as he was about to start walking away, however, he felt a strong tug on his sleeve.
"Sir Yeral. Hath I ever been dishonest with thee?" Priscilla spoke sharply, sounding rather hurt. It was a rhetorical question – both she and Yeral knew that the answer was no. Yeral stopped in his tracks, but still refused to turn around. "Why art thou so determined to obscureth the truth?" she pressed him. Pricilla didn't want to be rude, but she was very bothered by Yeral's suddenly shifty attitude. Before this, he had been eager to tell her about himself. Why was he so determined to keep secrets now? Yeral gradually looked upwards at the sky, trying to find the right words to say.
"...Because I do not want you to hate me." He admitted eventually. Priscilla's face softened, and she walked towards Yeral, who slowly turned around to face her. Priscilla wasn't quite sure how to respond to that statement. Why would she ever want to hate him? What could have happened to Reise, that would ever be that bad? "After the fight with Ornstein and Smough, I awoke back at Firelink Shrine. Reise had obtained the sacred Lordvessel, and we were supposed to fill it with four powerful souls. The Four Kings of New Londo, Seath the Scaleless in the Duke's Archives, Gravelord Nito deep in the Tomb of Giants, and the Witch of Izalith in her lost city. With these four souls, we could meet our fates at last..." Yeral began.
Yeral and Reise had gone their separate ways again, each one of them seeking a different Lord Soul. Reise had returned to Anor Londo to seek out the Duke's Archives, where Seath made his lair. Yeral had delved below Firelink to the undead city of New Londo, home of the dreaded Four Kings. According to legend, the once-thriving city had been swallowed up by a vile black magic called The Abyss, which only the Knight Artorias had ever seen and lived to tell about it.
Before they parted ways, Reise had given Yeral a ring that, she said, had once belonged to Artorias, though she refused to say how she had obtained it. Supposedly, the magical power of the ring would protect Yeral from the Abyss's corrosive influence. At first, however, he saw no black abyss when he entered New Londo, but rather a vast lake with crumbled brick buildings jutting from its surface. Still, New Londo was an awful place.
The slippery, wet brick and the narrow wooden bridges made even traversing the ruins a nightmare, and the residents only made things worse. The former inhabitants of New Londo had been twisted into horrible ghouls that desired nothing more than to sink their wicked knives into living flesh. As Yeral made his way through the dank ruins, the bleakness of the area really started to get to him. There was nothing here but ghosts and slimy buildings, cloaked in darkness, with the ever-present threat of plunging into a watery grave. Yeral had thought that Blighttown was the worst place he had visited, but this was far worse. It was like living in a literal nightmare. Worst of all, however, was the fact that there were no signs of the Four Kings anywhere. How could he reach them if they were buried under tons of water?
Thankfully, the answer presented itself as he emerged out onto the roof of one of the larger buildings. Standing at the far end of the roof, gazing out over the lake, was a man dressed all in red robes, with a pointed red hood and a strange iron mask. Hearing Yeral's footsteps behind him, he turned around to greet his visitor.
"Welcome to New Londo. I am Ingward, guardian of the seal." he introduced himself warmly. The wheeze in Ingward's voice told Yeral that he was very old. He had likely been overseeing New Londo since before its destruction.
"Nice to meet you, Ingward. Can you help me?" Yeral replied, relieved to see a friendly face in the miserable ruins.
"I assume you seek the Four Kings? Oh yes, bearer of the Lordvessel, I will help you open the seal." Ingward said immediately. He had been waiting for the chosen undead for a very long time. He was eager for his task to be done.
"What is this seal you mention?" Yeral asked, sounding rather puzzled. Ingward pointed off into the distance. Yeral squinted, and faintly made out a massive iron floodgate, no doubt keeping all of the water trapped within the city.
"There is a mechanism that is locked behind a gate. It will open that great seal, emptying the water into the valley beyond. Then you will be able to reach the Kings in the depths of the city." Ingward explained helpfully. Yeral nodded, as Ingward reached into his robe. He produced a small silver key and handed it to Yeral. "This key will allow you to access the seal. But be careful when you descend into the lower ruins. The Four Kings, and their servants the darkwraiths, reside in a black void called the Abyss." Ingward warned, but Yeral shook his head.
"I already know of the Abyss. I bear a magic ring from Knight Artorias that will grant me safe passage." he explained. Ingward patted him on the shoulder.
"Then the best of luck to you." he said as Yeral turned and walked away.
Opening the seal was a simple matter now that Yeral had the key. All he had to do was reach the building where the mechanism was, unlock the gate, and turn the crank. The great floodgates creaked open, and thousands upon thousands of gallons of water surged outwards into the Valley of Drakes, draining the lower levels of New Londo. From there, Yeral was able to delve into the bowels of the waterlogged town to confront the Four Kings in the Abyss.
There seemed to be few ghosts in the bottom half of New Londo, but this was not much of a comfort, for it was teeming with darkwraiths instead. The darkwraiths were tall, formerly-human warriors that wore odd skeleton-themed armor and carried large black broadswords. They were fearsome opponents with the ability to drain the humanity from Yeral's body, but he was eventually able to fight them off. As he brushed darkwraith blood off of his armor, Yeral looked about and saw a large round tower with a staircase inside spiraling downwards. Entering the tower, he looked down and saw that the staircase eventually vanished into empty blackness.
"This must be the Abyss..." he muttered quietly to himself, before jumping down through the center of the tower. He fell for several seconds, before landing safely in the bottom of the Abyss. It was an empty black void, with no discernible walls, ceiling, or even floor. In fact, it looked like it stretched on infinitely in all directions. Yeral was rather disoriented as he slowly walked around, unable to see what he was stepping on. After a few tense moments, a chilling shriek rang out, echoing in the nothingness, as a large silvery wraith materialized from thin air.
The creature seemed as if its body was composed of scraps of silver cloth, with one visible arm holding a strange spiky sword, and a jagged crown on its head. Clearly, this odd being was one of the Four Kings. The King swiftly flew over towards Yeral, hovering a few feet off the ground. Yeral raised his shield as the king slashed horizontally with its sword, only to find that the magical blade phased right through the shield. In fact, the blade passed all the way through Yeral's body as if it were a ghost. Thankfully, it did not leave a physical cut, but the magical energy burned where it touched. Yeral knew that he would have to dodge its strikes from now on.
The king raised its sword upwards and then quickly sliced it down, but Yeral rolled to the side and struck the silver monster hard with his greatsword. The king slowly turned to face him, and Yeral noticed that it seemed to have trouble maneuvering. Suddenly, the king rammed sideways at Yeral, trying to grab him in empty hole where its other arm should have been. Yeral hastily jumped backwards and smashed his sword down into the king's head. In retaliation, the king held its arm close in front of it, its hand glowing with magical power, which it released a moment later in the form of a powerful burst of energy. Yeral, unable to get far enough away, was thrown backwards hard, his body sizzling.
At that moment, a familiar shriek rang out and another king appeared some distance away. Yeral staggered to his feet, only to quickly roll out of the way of a magical blast that the second king had fired from afar. Acting quickly, he drew a firebomb from his pouch and hurled it at the first king's head. The king reeled back as its face was engulfed in flames, giving Yeral the opportunity to drive his sword into it. The king shrieked again, this time sounding pained, before exploding into white light, as Yeral turned his attention towards the second king. Oddly, the kings seemed to share some sort of hivemind, because the second king fought exactly the same as the first. Similarly, partway through fighting it, a third king appeared. The same happened again when the second king died and Yeral turned his attention towards the third. Eventually, however, Yeral was able to outlast them by dodging their strikes, though he had to chug several times from his Estus Flask. As the last king dissipated, a brilliant yellow soul appeared, which Yeral hastily grabbed. This must be the Lord Soul he had come for. At that moment, an unfamiliar voice rang out...
"Well done. Well done indeed." said the low, raspy voice. Yeral quickly turned around and saw an odd gray serpent emerging from the darkness behind him. The creature had large red eyes and square, yellow teeth that clacked as it spoke. "I am pleased that you made it this far. I have been keeping an eye on you."
"Who... who are you?" Yeral asked uncertainly. There was something very unnerving about the serpent, but it seemed to be non-hostile for the moment. The serpent grinned at his question (a frightening sight indeed).
"I am Kaathe, one of the Primordial Serpents. But the really important one here is you... dark lord." Kaathe explained smoothly. Yeral was puzzled by what the serpent called him, but before he could ask, Kaathe began to elaborate. "Oh yes, you bear the Dark Soul, the last of the Lord Souls, and the most powerful by far. The Dark Soul was first held by the furtive pygmy, but it seems he has passed it on to you. This gives you a very special destiny indeed... would you care to hear it?"
"Yes." Yeral responded immediately. He had never heard of the pygmy or the Dark Soul, but he still wanted to know what the serpent had to say.
"The so-called gods have been leading you to link the fire, perpetuating the current age... at the cost of humanity. That is the supposed 'fate of the undead'. But you have another option. If you let the fire die, then you can use your darkness to usher in a golden age for humanity. No gods, no curses, no fire. A glorious Age of Dark, with you as its leader." Kaathe said, clearly trying to entice Yeral to follow his plan. Yeral, however, scowled and looked around.
"Hmph. The dark does not look so glorious to me." he said suspiciously. Kaathe, however, did not even drop his unnerving smile in the face of Yeral's scrutiny. The serpent looked back and forth between the Abyss and Yeral before he spoke again.
"What happened here was a failure. The Four Kings and their pitiful servants could not contain the power of their humanity, and it consumed them. You have the strength to succeed where they failed." Kaathe replied silkily, hoping to play off Yeral's ego. Yeral thought about it in silence for several moments. Kaathe leaned forward, right up to Yeral's face. "Well, what do you say? Form a covenant with me, usher this world into a new life, and get all the humanity you'll ever need!" Kaathe insisted, staring intently at the nervous Yeral. "Oh, and decide quickly. Your little friend has been taking advice from a serpent too, but she wants to light the fire. Will you show her the error of her ways?" he added. Finally, Yeral made his decision.
"...I will. Form the covenant, I will bring the darkness this world needs."