Chapter 15: Oath of Allegiance
The passageway to the dreaded Huntsman's Copse was rough and rocky, similar to the one that had lead from Heide to the Wharf. A corpse was encountered on the way in, carrying few things of interest, save for a single vial of blood red elixir. Erik recognized it as Rouge Water, a contraband healing potion, at least in Lindelt. No one was sure why the Church banned the clearly potent and beneficial solution, though many assumed it had to do with the fact it could only be manufactured in Melfia, or by a powerful sorcerer.
Past that, the duo came to a large cavern with the walkway winding up and around a deep pit, leading to a pool of water. As they walked through, they started to cough and choke on a purplish mist that filled the air, their limbs becoming heavy and their minds hazy. After chomping on clumps of Poison Moss Erik passed out, the two eventually traced the mist to a number of large, beautiful moths that were oozing the toxic substance.
"So beautiful! When they're not, you know, poisoning us," Erik commented, looking down at the corpse of one, a throwing knife embedded in its back. "Do you know what it is?"
"I believe they're called Moon Butterflies. We have them in Mirrah, deep in the oldest forests. But I've never seen one so big! These are easily ten times the size of my homeland's native species. Plus, the time is all wrong." Lucatiel nudged the body with the toe of her boot, a tone of confusion clear in her voice.
"How do you mean?"
"Moon Butterflies only appear at night and in the dead of winter, feeding on the sap of maple trees. As far as I can tell it is still summer here in Drangleic, and we found these ones in a cave."
"Maybe the Drangleic breed does it differently?" Erik offered, and Lucatiel shrugged. She reached down and plucked the knife from its back and handed it back to the chef.
"You know, I've heard tell that the loggers near my hometown used to eat Moon Butterflies when they were dried. Maybe your ancestor has something in that book about these ones?"
Erik blinked, then slowly nodded. That actually made sense. He reached into his pouch and extracted the journal, flipping through the pages carefully. After few minutes he smiled.
"Huh, there are a few recipes for using them, and a bit of information as well. It seems the Drangleic breed is the original, and its smaller cousins elsewhere are just different adaptations. He also notes the Moon Butterfly may be the descendant of the legendary Moonlight Butterfly, according to the research done by some of Vendrick's scholars," Erik said, impressed. He looked at it a bit more, and smiled. The recipes Donovan Potts had recorded were interesting, based on a mix of Jugonan and Mirrahian cuisine.
Mind made up, Erik bent down and began to cut up the Moon Butterfly, careful to remove the wings first which carried the poison. Next, he cut off the head, making sure to preserve the feelers though. Finally, after tenderly slicing the body into smaller segments, Erik came away with only a few ounces of viable moth meat. It wasn't much, and he hoped they'd run into more so he could harvest them for their tasty flesh.
Finally on the move again, Erik and Lucatiel soon found themselves on the way out, the exit of the cave beckoning. Fading daylight could be seen beyond, the dusk approaching. What really drew their attention though was a man, sitting in a nook near the exit in a rickety wooden chair. He was dressed in black robes that had seen better days, and were in the style of a Melfian sorcerer, but with a black and white hood with swirled designs over his head. He glanced up as the pair neared him, and he frowned. When Erik got closer, he spoke up, his voice raspy with disuse.
"The Dark stirs… I see… The Dark has sparked within you… My name is Felkin. I will trade with you. What do you need?"
"Um, what do you sell?" Erik asked, politely. Lucatiel kept a close eye on the man, but he seemed to only have eyes for the cook.
"Tools for use with Hexes and their mystical spells… a few other things as well," the sorcerer named Felkin said.
Erik and Lucatiel tensed, taking a step back from the demented mage. Hexes were dark magic, banned by both the Church and the sorcerers of Melfia! It was the one thing they agreed on whole heartedly. And this man openly spoke of such things?!
"What makes you think I'd require such items?" Erik asked, fear carefully hidden. The madman laughed.
"I-I can see it, th-the potential. Y-you burn bright with light, but the brightest fires cast the longest shadows, and last half as long. In time, you'll see the need for the gi-gifts the Dark can offer."
"Where did you learn of such a forbidden art?" Lucatiel inquired. Felkin laughed, turning his gimlet gaze onto the knightess.
"I w-went…I went…I went to a great school…in the south… But neither sorcery nor pyromancy appealed…I… I-I learned nothing…nothing at all… I-it was there that I happened upon the Dark. It drew me in… The nebulous Dark… Soon, I was drawn to this land, where Dark runs deeper than anywhere else." Felkin leaned back in his chair, smiling in fond memories. "The Curse was the greatest thing to ever happen to me."
At that, Lucatiel clenched her fists in barely suppressed fury. It was the Curse of the Undead that forced her brother to run and lose his status! It was the Curse that drove her to this land in search of her brother.
"I'm afraid we have business elsewhere," Erik said, stepping in before things got ugly, having seen Lucatiel tense up in fury.
"Come again… as you like… The Dark… Is always within you…" Felkin said with a smirk, before turning back to stare at the wall. Erik led his friend away from the mad Hexer, unwilling to have anything to do with him.
Emerging from the cave, the pair saw a bonfire standing near a ledge and made a beeline to it. Spotting some crates and boxes nearby, he dragged two over and placed them in front of the crackling sparks. Resting at the soothing flames, Erik turned to look at his companion.
"Do you think we should inform someone that a Hexer is nearby?" Erik asked after a while, trying to start conversation but also genuinely worried about Felkin's proximity to Majula.
"When we return from obtaining whatever it is you need, we shall. For now, he seems to be no threat," Lucatiel said curtly, and Erik frowned in worry.
"What's bothering you, Luca?"
The knightess looked up sharply at the nickname, causing Erik to flinch, before she settled down a sighed. She removed her mask and stared up into Erik's eyes.
The Undead chef was taken aback. He'd never seen the woman take her mask off unless she was eating. But now she looked at him with her blue eyes with sorrow in them.
"Those words he spoke back there… that the Curse was the best thing to happen to him? That… that's just…!" She pounded a fist into the dirt beside her, cracking her box. "I lost everything to the Curse! So did my brother! And yet he dares to claim it was a good thing?!"
"Carhillion said he was glad for it," Erik said hesitantly. Lucatiel tensed up, but sighed as her shoulders slumped.
"He died and lost much, but he's looking at the bright side. He's taken the opportunities granted by the Curse to explore his dreams. Something I find envious. I-I cannot do such a thing. I don't have those. Not anymore. I already achieved it, and ended up losing it." Lucatiel shut her eyes, fighting back tears. "Being a knight was everything to me. To help my family, and be like my brother… what do I have now? And even if I find Aslatiel, what can I do after that?"
Erik bit his lower lip, before deciding to do something completely crazy. He stood up and wrapped his arms around Lucatiel, giving her a massive hug. She stiffened as she felt him do so, but after a shuddering whimper let him do as he wanted.
"I'm sorry, Lucatiel. I don't have answer for you on what your future should look like, but please, don't give up. Your brother is counting on you, whether he knows it or not. And so am I. I need you Lucatiel. Alone, I'd have died so many times. But since you chose to stay by my side, I have not died once! And you know what? I'm glad. You're a good person, Lucatiel. More than a knight, you're my friend. And I don't want you to give up and go Hollow."
The two were silent for a while as they just relaxed in each other's presence, content to enjoy the comfort of a hug and a friend. After a few minutes passed Lucatiel was the first to move, softly pushing Erik away.
"Thank you, Erik. I feel a lot better now," she said, a tiny yet sincere smile on her lips. She quickly reattached her mask as the chef stepped back, who offered his own warm smile.
"I'm glad I could help," the cook said happily.
"Before we move on, I'd like to do something. Do you mind waiting a bit?" Lucatiel asked and Erik nodded.
"Whatever you need."
His eyes widened as Lucatiel removed her sword, the large blade catching the bonfire's light and turning it into a shimmering mirror that cast reflections of fiery radiance across the area.
Smoothly, the knightess planted the blade in the ground in front of her and then kneeled before Erik, whose jaw dropped. Was this going where he thought this was going…?
"I, Lucatiel, daughter of Baratiel, Ordained Knight of Mirrah, have seen your worth. You are kind, considerate, generous, and noble. I pledge my blade, my shield, and my soul to your service! From this moment forth, I will fight your battles and carry your burdens. I will live for you and die for you! Until my life ends, or my services are no longer required, we shall be as master and servant. Et sunt Mundi, flamma meus es tu!"
'Till the world ends, my flame is yours!'
Okay, yeah, it went exactly where Erik thought it would go!
Erik could not believe this! He was a commoner at best, a bastard child at worst! His family might have some degree of importance and influence, but in the end all they were was a bunch of chefs! To have a knight pledge their undying (heh!) loyalty to him was not something he had ever dreamed of! He looked down at Lucatiel in shock, and she stared back up at him, a fierce determination burning in her eyes he could feel even through the mask.
"I don't know what to say," Erik said after a pause, scratching the back of his neck.
"Erik…" Lucatiel's voice held sadness in it. She'd laid her soul bare, shown him her feelings and resolve, and that was all he could say?
"I mean, I don't know what to say for accepting. I uh, never had someone want to be my knight before," Erik explained hastily as he scuffed the dirt with the toe of his boot. Lucatiel blinked, before laughing in joy and amusement.
"That's alright. Just say whatever comes to mind."
"Alright… Ahem! I, Erik Potts, son of Jack Potts, Chef of Lindelt, whole heartedly accept the kindness of Lucatiel, knight of Mirrah, to become sword, shield, and friend to myself." The knightess in question looked at him sharply at that, to which Erik just shrugged with a smirk. "Until our mission is finished, we shall be together. Neither death nor Hollowing shall change that. Ego semper amicus!"
'I will always be your friend!'
"An interesting take on the oath, my friend," Lucatiel said with a chuckle, one that Erik joined in on.
"I thought it was fitting. I never learned the oaths of Lindelt, so I improvised."
Lucatiel stood, swinging her sword to rest of her shoulder as she peered ahead into the growing dusk.
"Let's go and see what else Drangleic has in store for us."