Chapter 27: Blue Knight and the Red Lady
"There's someone up ahead." Erik glanced up from gathering herbs and mushrooms from the side of the path towards Lucatiel. The masked swordswoman from Mirrah had her hand resting on the hilt of her long blade but made no other movements. The chef then looked over to where his friend was staring.
Leaning against the swell of a hill and some broken pillars, a swarthy man with a bushy beard sat, resting with a massive, beautiful blue tinged blade. Seriously, it was huge! Erik hadn't seen a normal human wield a weapon that size before! It looked far too massive to be a real weapon, or of any use, but the faint glow around it indicated it might be a magical blade of some kind.
His armor on the other hand was fairly standard looking, uniform almost, and was the reason Lucatiel was tense. Erik quickly finished up his gathering and stood beside her, when they approached.
"Hello, good sirs!" The man called out when the mysterious knight heard them approach. "I did not think I'd meet anyone on this untrodden path."
"Greetings as well, sir," Erik said with a respectful bow of the head. He still hadn't kicked his habit of deferential treatment to nobles, and this man seemed to be such, based on his manners and clear speech. Even if he wasn't, it was still a good idea to be nice to everyone you met, especially someone with a sword larger than yourself!
"No need for formality, we're all Undead here," the knight chuckled with a dismissive wave. "But you might want to think about turning around. The way ahead is blocked and I'm scratching my head on what to do about it."
"Blocked?" Lucatiel inquired, shooting a look to the end of the path. There was a gate house of some kind, crumbling and ruined, but looked intact for the most part.
"Aye, there's a poor lass, petrified and blocking the gate mechanism," the man explained. "No matter what I do I cannot budge her. At least she's fairly durable. I'd hate to have accidentally damage her like that trying to shift her."
"So she's a mage then?" Erik asked, as he recalled Lucatiel saying something about petrification affecting mages differently.
"Most likely. But where are my manners! I am Benhart of Jugo, at your service!" The knight rose and bowed elegantly, towering over the two smaller Undead by a full foot.
"Benhart… then are you perhaps the Knight of the Blue Moon?!" Lucatiel asked, her voice awed and full of respect. She relaxed her guard and Erik just tilted his head.
"Ah, so you've heard of me! I am indeed he! Though a knight from Mirrah recognizing me and not wishing to cut me in half is a surprise," Benhart admitted, scratching the back of his head in pleasure.
"I'm a bit lost, I'm afraid. Is he a figure of renown?" Erik looked over to his companion and he could swear she was blushing through her mask.
"A little over a hundred years ago there was a vicious border war between Mirrah and Jugo. The victors were our dessert neighbor, and that was entirely due to this man here," Mirrah said, gesturing towards Benhart.
"Known as the Knight of the Blue Moon, he had the strength of ten men, carried a massive shimmering azure sword that could cut through spells and enchantments, and was at the front of every battle. In the end, he took the head of the king and his generals in a single battle, thus ending the war within a year!"
"Honestly, you'll make me blush with this praise," Benhart said awkwardly, looking away from the pair.
"They say he died after the feast in his honor, having drunk and eaten too much, but his legend lives on. Even in Mirrah we speak of him with respect, for we value martial skills, and anyone who has such a list of achievements is worthy of it," Lucatiel stated.
"Ah yes, the feast." Jugo's eyes turned dark at that. "I was poisoned by a group of nobles who were afraid of my sudden rise in popularity. I contracted the Curse though, so I snuck out quickly after 'repaying' them. Still, my family retained the honor I'd earned for them in the war. Hopefully they recovered the fortunes and prestige from long ago."
"I take it your family was on the decline?" Erik asked, more versed in noble politics than most would expect. But living and working under the roof of House Osteria gave the chef a closer look at the aristocrats then he might otherwise have had.
"Aye. We were related to the king once, but fell out of favor for one reason or another. Now the only thing left to the family name is this blade, the Bluemoon Greatsword!" Benhart brandished it proudly, showing off the eldritch azure glow.
"It too has lost much of its powers over the years, but there is still a glimmer of magic left that can be unlocked with the skills of a talented knight."
"Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you Sir Benhart. I think we're going to examine this petrified woman and perhaps we can find a way to move her," Erik said and earned a nod from the burly knight.
"Good luck to you. I'm not going anywhere, not for a while at least. If I returned to Majula so soon after I left, I fear that the hag and the cat will laugh at me, especially after my grandiose departure."
Erik and Lucatiel nodded in understanding, both well aware of the two people in question and their 'playful' nature.
Walking the rest of the way to the gatehouse, Benhart shouted to them about a pair of Hollows that had snuck in somehow. They acknowledged the warning with a wave, before drawing weapons. Erik was much better at using his new Heide Straightsword, and he took point, finding the two bloated and nearly naked Hollows no match.
After pinning the two corpses under some rubble, the two travelers approached the petrified woman. She was wearing robes, slightly tattered and looking similar to Carhillion's. Her expression was panicked, as if there was something dreadful on the other side of the gate, and sealing it was the right choice.
"Is there anything in your ancestor's book about some magical food or another to cure petrification?" Lucatiel asked. She wasn't being facetious either. Donovan Pott's tome had gotten the chef and his friends out of several situations that might have been impossible, or at least very difficult, otherwise. So if the ancient chef had learned something, there was a chance that the book had the answer recorded within.
"Let me take a look." Erik sat cross legged on the floor and flipped through the old pages seeking a clue. After a few minutes, during which Lucatiel re-killed the two Hollows, there was a look of surprise on Erik's face, and he quickly removed the Bottomless Box from his back and rooted through it.
"So, I believe I found a possible solution," Erik began as he removed a fat, bulbous root-like branch of wood from the container.
"This is called a Fragrant Branch of Yore. It is a part of an Arch-Tree that has grown amidst regular trees. From what I understand this is one of the only substances in the world that can undo petrification. Donovan's notes are unclear on how it works exactly. He says the 'scent' is the key, both for curing and for cooking. How to extract that scent is somewhat unclear, but he does mention that a Pyromancer he met could turn these branches into charcoal. The smoke from this process could be bottled and used as a kind of smelling salts to undo petrification."
"How long does that take?" Lucatiel inquired to which the Undead chef shrugged.
"Not sure exactly. I'm going to use the regular method for making charcoal with Pyromancy, and hope that this works." Erik closed his eyes and held the lump of wood in his left hand, reaching out to his Fire Seed and sensing its power. He'd found a few more of the rare wooden seeds, but was reluctant to use them at present. Still, just having them near him was helping to boost the output of his own flames. With glacial slowness embers and sparks popped and spat into Erik's palm, smothered somewhat by the branch.
Making charcoal was actually fairly easy. At its base, charcoal was just wood that has been burned. Before it burns to ash though, or the fire completely penetrates the substance, the wood has to be removed from the fire. At that point, the heat has seared in various attributes of the wood. Apple or cherry wood has a unique scent as well as lumber from other fruit bearing trees. This 'scent' could then be imbued into other foods when used to cook with the charcoal.
The best way to make charcoal involved sealing it in a copper or tin pot or drum, then stacking a bunch of firewood around it then setting it all alight. The flames did not reach the wood inside the metal but is still heated none the less. The flavor is sealed inside and then the charcoal is ready for use. Such a method is expensive though, as using firewood just to make specialty firewood for cooking wasted lumber. Only the rich could afford such techniques.
That is, unless one was a Pyromancer. The main trouble with charcoal is the management of heat. You cannot burn the wood too much, but you also don't want it to be covered in mild uneven burnt patches. A Pyromancer could use their flame manipulation to control the rate of burning as well as how strong the fire was. This was the method that Erik had been taught by his father, who'd learned it from his own father, and so on. Based on what Donovan had written in the book, the long-dead chef had started this tradition in his family after learning how to make charcoal from the same Pyromancer who showed him what to do with Fragrant Branches of Yore.
And so Erik sweated from both heat and nerves, turning the lump of wood over every so often as his left hand pulsed with heat and flames, slowly searing the branch into a block of charcoal.
An effect was soon noticed as there was a faint breeze that blew the smoke that was rising towards the petrified woman. Cracks began to appear all over her, spreading rapidly as the smoke wafted over her body, and bits of dark grey stone flaked off revealed dark brown skin.
Then without warning there was a sound like shattering glass and the greyish material fell off of the woman's body and quickly dissolved into a cloud of dust. Doubling over, the dark skinned and black haired woman began to cough and wheeze, desperately sucking in air while simultaneously hacking it out. She had released the gate mechanism from her clutches in the process, which was nice. What wasn't, at least from Lucatiel's perspective, was that the woman was now completely naked.
The petrification had affected her entire body, which included her clothes. When the Fragrant Branch of Yore had released her from her stony prison it had done so by peeling away the layer of magical rock thus only her flesh remained intact. Due to the magical nature of both the petrification and the eldritch piece of wood, only living materials were left unharmed.
This meant that now there was a woman without clothes sitting on the floor. Erik's eyes had quickly jerked away, trying to preserve her modesty. Lucatiel simply sighed and removed some spare clothes from her pack. It was another Desert Sorceress outfit, or most of one.
"Miss, are you alright? I have some clothes here for you to cover up with," Lucatiel said as she approached. The woman looked up, and her eyes widened in shock. The next thing the knightess knew she had been tackled by the naked woman who was hugging her almost desperately.
"Aslatiel! You escaped! I'm so glad you're alright!"
Lucatiel froze as the young woman called out her brother's name as she hugged the armor clad knight. Even Erik was looking in confusion at the odd scene.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken. My name is Lucatiel."
A few seconds of awkward silence later and the woman removed herself from the knightess' waist, blushing furiously. The blush only grew deeper when she saw the current lack of attire she sported.
Hastily taking the offered clothes she slipped them on, before bowing in apology to Lucatiel.
"I'm sorry! It's just that you're dressed very similarly to my companion. My name is Rosabeth of Melfia, a Pyromancer."
"That name… are you perhaps Carhillion's student?" Erik spoke up which made the young woman brighten up. Turning to the chef she gave a nod of her head in greeting.
"I am! Or one of them at least. I came here in search of my teacher after receiving the Curse. I haven't found him yet, but I know it'll be soon!"
"You're in luck. The old man is back at Majula, probably boring the rest to tears with one of his lectures," Erik said with a cheeky grin which was met with a laugh from Rosabeth.
"I don't doubt that. Oh, this is wonderful!"
"Before you run off back to your mentor, tell me; where did you last see my brother," Lucatiel demanded, causing the Undead Pyromancer to tilt her head before gasping in shock.
"Are you Aslatiel's sister, Lucatiel? He's told me so much about you!" Rosabeth exclaimed happily. "From the day you were born, to the day you joined the knights…"
"Where is he?!" Lucatiel shouted, losing all of her patience. Rosabeth flinched back but rallied quickly.
"I do not know. The last I saw of him he was fight off a horde of Basilisks." Rosabeth's face turned grim as she started to recall the previous moments of her life.
"I met Aslatiel several months back. I had just arrived and he was patrolling the cliffs of Majula. We struck up a friendship and soon he had offered to travel with me in my search for Pyromancy and my teacher. It feels like it was yesterday to me, but when we were traveling down past the Shaded Woods, we were attacked by a swarm of those nasty Basilisks! They were being led by a giant one, and they chased after us. Aslatiel told me to run back to the gate and seal it, that he'd hold them off, but one slipped past his guard and sprayed me with its foul fumes." Rosabeth shivered as she remembered the clammy feeling of the noxious gas caressing her skin.
"I could feel myself petrifying, but I got back to the Gatehouse just in time to close the gate and seal off the Basilisks."
"And you left my brother behind to die." Lucatiel's words dripped with icy venom and the Pyromancer shook her head.
"No! I didn't! I mean, I did, but you have to believe me! I would never have done so if he hadn't told me to! I wanted to wait for him, but there were hundreds of them! If even a few had gotten past then everyone in Majula would have been in danger!"
Lucatiel stared long at the young woman before snorting and turning aside. She wasn't happy, but she knew her brother and that was exactly something he would do. Order others to leave the rest to him. Even if it meant his death.
"Fine. I believe you. I suggest you return to the town for now. You need some new clothes and supplies," Lucatiel said softly, and Rosabeth nodded happily.
The dark skinned pyromancer looked as if she wanted to leaved, but her gaze lingered on Erik for a moment. Or rather, to where the Dull Ember and the other Fire Seeds he had collected were hidden.
"If you want, I could infuse your Fire Seed with the rest you have," Rosabeth offered a moment of silence. Erik tilted his head, thinking.
"I have three of them. Can you ensure that they will not immolate me once they're implanted?"
"Oh, that's easy!" Rosabeth said happily. "The stronger the soul, the more power it can handle! It's the same for everyone, be they sorcerer or pyromancer. And just by taking a glance at your soul you could probably manage ten or more seeds!"
"Then please, do so. I need the edge if I am to continue through Drangleic," Erik said, offering the Fire Seeds to Rosabeth. The young woman took them with an eager smile and quickly gripped Erik's left hand in a vice-like grip. Soon, the chef felt his palm heating up from the intense heat of the Fire Seeds and the magic coursing through him.
"It may sting a bit," Rosabeth said belatedly, giving a sheepish smile towards Erik's grimace of pain.
And it did. The pain was hot and terrible, but there was a bitter cold to it as well. The Cyromancy that the young Undead had manifested was entwined with his Pyromancy now, and the both of them were fueled by his elegant, pure soul.
With a flash of purple light, the pain faded and power flooded Erik. He lifted his hand from Rosabeth's slackened grip, and stared at his left hand. His palm was pulsing with light, alternating between red and blue before finally settling upon purple. The heat that normally accompanied his Fire Seed was dulled, more lukewarm now.
"With that, you now have the power of five Fire Seeds inside you! Be careful handling flammable objects for a bit. Don't want to start any forest fires!" Rosabeth said with a smile. She then thanked the two of them for freeing her before rushing out of the tiny building and down the path back to Majula.
"Well, that was something," Erik said with an attempt at levity. It didn't work and his companion turned to face him.
"Erik, I need to ask you a favor." The serious tone of her voice gave the chef an idea of what she wanted to ask. In the background of the somber atmosphere the two could hear Benhart's boisterous voice and footsteps approaching them, but for now they paid it no attention.
"What do you need, Lucatiel?"
"Please, let me go after my brother."
Erik mutely nodded his head. He'd had a feeling that was the request.
"Of course, Lucatiel. We can spend some time looking around for him…"
"You misunderstand, Erik. I'll be going after him alone. You have your own mission to accomplish."
Erik felt his mind shut down as he heard that. In the distance he could swear he heard Benhart suck in a gasp.
"What?"
Lucatiel's body language looked abashed, and ashamed of herself, but she explained.
"My brother is the reason I came to this land. True, I have found other reasons to stay, but I-I want to find him, make sure he's alright. But I know I cannot do so, and have you with me."
"What do you mean, Lucatiel? I promise I won't slow you down!" Erik claimed, terrified she was abandoning him.
"It's not that! If anything I'd slow you down!" Lucatiel said, trying to calm him. "You've become so strong since we first met. From a bumbling chef who could barely bring down an Undead pirate to a man who would throw himself at a Demon of Chaos with a battle cry on his lips. If anything, I am proud of you for your growth."
"But you have your own mission to complete. I do not understand it myself, but right now you are a Monarch Candidate, someone whose destiny is so much greater than my own. I just know you will bring about change to this dying land." Lucatiel removed her mask and gave Erik a kind, reassuring smile.
"I want to continue with you, but I also want to locate my brother. But if you want me to stay, then I will. I swore my sword to your service, after all. Et sunt Mundi, flamma meus es tu!"
Again, in the peanut gallery Benhart gave another gasp, but the pair continued to ignore him. Erik looked down and stared at the lump of charcoal still in his hands, and then at the newly empowered Fire Seed nestled in his left palm. A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind at once, before he uttered a depressed sigh.
"I remember that, you know. Your oath. How surprised I was. How honored that you held me in such regard. But I also remember my response. Ego semper amicus. I will always be your friend. And I meant it." Erik turned around and placed his brick of blackened wood into the Bottomless Box before returning to face Lucatiel.
"Find your brother, Lucatiel. Do this, for yourself. I care about you. I do not want to see you go Hollow because I forced you to choose between your duties."
Lucatiel teared up and went to Erik, grasping him in a crushing embrace.
"Thank you, Erik. You're truly a friend."
Erik returned the hug, a sad smile on his face.
"Same to you, Lucatiel. Why don't you go back to Majula and find Rosabeth? You should see if she wants to accompany you on your search. She did see him last after all."
"An excellent idea, thank you for it," Lucatiel said, disengaging from the drawn out embrace. "Traveling with a companion is so much better than doing so alone."
Drawing her sword, Lucatiel gave a military salute and a deep bow to Erik before turning away and heading down the path back to the town.
"That was beautiful." Erik jumped, finally registering the fact that there had been an audience for that. He shot Benhart of Jugo a glare who brushed it off.
"I've seen a lot of people in my time. Warriors, bandits, lords, and peasants. Few of them had that much trust and faith in their comrades. The lady was right though. Traveling alone is much more dangerous, and seeing your noble spirit has awakened my own!" the elderly knight sank to one knee while planting his massive sword in the ground before him. Erik's eyes widened in surprise at the act.
"I'm not asking to take the place of your departed knight, but you have the feel of a man loved by fate. And such folk always attract trouble. I'd like to join you on this mission of yours." At this, Benhart looked Erik square in the eye and the chef from Lindelt felt the force of a truly noble soul gazing into his own.
"I've met other people who'd been nominated as this 'Monarch Candidate' but none have had the right feel to them. None made me wish to offer my blade to their service. You, however, are different. Pure yet tempered in fire. Noble and kind but strong and fierce. A white soul that stand out, untainted by the grime around it. I, Benhart of Jugo, the Blue Moon Knight, offer my blade and my body to assist you on this quest. What say you?"
"I say thank you, and welcome aboard," Erik said, a wide grin spreading across his face. He could feel the nobility and honor in this man's soul, just as the knight could sense the chef's. He was depressed about Lucatiel leaving, but he could push on and prove to her that her faith in him was well founded.
Erik shouldered his Bottomless Box and turned to the gate mechanism. Time for a new step on the journey.