Chapter 47: A Song of Chaos and Death
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The path was indeed clear, and the party of Undead and Dark Ones ventured deep into the mountainside which led into the depths of the underworld even as the storm raged and the ghosts of the castle's servants cheered.
It was a nice sendoff, in Erik's opinion, though not everyone else shared it. The Undead were a bit creeped out by the floating spirits. It's one thing to be a zombie, and another to be a dismembered soul hovering a few inches over the ground.
As for Alsana, Elana, and Nadalia, they were horrified by the conditions their sister had left her servants in. Nashandra had wanted to be surrounded by adoring, slavish followers, and so had bound their souls to her. They could never know peace unless she willed it, and many of the ghosts were forgetful and running on memories of their life, unaware of the fact they had become a very unusual form of Undead.
But that issue was for another day. Right now the party was delving into the ruins of Firelink Shrine which lay buried under the castle. And it was impressive to see the ruins still standing here and there.
Here and there vast stretches of roots encircled the stone, yet from what the adventuring group knew and had seen, no trees existed.
"Arch tree roots. Withered and ancient, but still intact," Nadalia breathed in awe as she ran her hand along one of them.
Erik followed her example and marveled at the texture. It was like rough marble, and deep within it, the chef could feel the root thrum with power. Neither life nor death touched this fragment of the world. It simply was, and would be. A mountain might become a beach over billions of years, yet this would endure beyond that.
With reluctance Erik pried himself away from the root lest he be lost within its globe-spanning memories and system. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his companions struggle against its allure as well, and succeed. He also saw Elana nod with approval.
"Impressive. More than anyone I know how tantalizing it must have felt, to be a part of something infinitely greater than yourself," the Squalid Queen said softly. "In my true form I am closer to an Arch tree than any of my other siblings. Even the Giants can only envy my connection to them."
"Why don't you?" Everyone turned to Vengarl when he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Why don't you give in? I once knew the bliss of peace when I was in the Lost Woods for so many centuries. I only overcame it through outside influence. What keeps you from slipping?"
"Knowing that if I ever did give in to their siren call I would lose what mattered," Elana said, looking at her sisters with a warm smile on her face. It then flattened out into her usual neutral expression.
"But enough lollygagging. We need to move."
And move they did. Through the root wrapped tunnel the team marched, and soon they came to an impressive sight. A towering cliff and a crumbling tower from a bygone era which leaned against the stony edifice, both of which overlooked a vast, underground lake with a single hut, barely visible down below through the murk and gloom. Indeed, only flittering little glowing bugs, mushrooms, and wisps of souls energy illuminated the depths.
"Someone actually lives here?" Benhart asked, surprised at the light that could be seen coming from the hut.
"I don't think so, Benhart. Don't you feel that odd, emptiness to the air? Doesn't it remind you of that woman, the Milfanito?" Erik asked. The Jugonan blinked before nodding slowly.
"Yes, I see. Or rather, I feel it. You're right, this is definitely the same presence, but much further off. I suggest we venture down and pay whoever lives there a visit."
Agreement was reached, and everyone carefully inched their way down damp stairs. They the bottom and found themselves facing a shallow part of the lake. The hut had been built on a sandbank in the waters and a few lumpy shapes could be seen languishing in the mud. Plus, a faint, angelic singing could be distantly heard in the stillness of the cavern.
"What are those things in the water?" Mytha asked, taking a step forward. Only to spin around to the right of the entryway of the tower and sidestep a blow from a silvery Lucerne.
"Mytha?!" Erik shouted in concern.
"I'm fine!" the former queen retorted before blasting the assailant with a Heavy Soul Spear. It impaled the foe and slew it, leaving its corpse to be examined by the group. Erik's jaw promptly fell when he saw what it was.
"That's a Dragon Cleric of Lindelt! What is he doing here?" The armor and equipment was unmistakable to the chef, for he had seen these same men standing guard around the Lightning Palace back when he'd been mortal.
"He's Hollowed, from the looks of it," Mytha said, gingerly removing the helmet to reveal rotted flesh. "And has been for a while."
"Did Lindelt ever have diplomatic relations with Drangleic?" Benhart queried, looking over Erik.
"Almost all of the mainland kingdoms had some form of tie to the Land of Gods," Erik revealed. "Even Lanafir would send the occasional dignitary. Maybe he was a guard to one such person and got lost?"
"There could be many reasons for this, and none of them matter at the moment," Nadalia cut in. "They are just another obstacle to be removed."
Erik sighed but nodded. "Agreed. Let's move. And try not to poke whatever is in the mud unless it attacks us."
The dark skinned Queen of Alken rolled her eyes but shouldered her spear all the same.
They were not accosted by anything as they made their way to the hut, though Erik could vaguely see a few more silvery figures far off in the gloom.
The singing grew louder, and when the team reached the hut they found the door was unlocked, and let themselves in.
It was a hovel. A nice place to live long ago, but now the walls and roof leaked, the furniture rotted, and anything valuable had been looted ages past. However, sitting in the front room as if none of the decay mattered or bothered her, was a young, brown haired woman, eyes closed and singing a song of peace.
"Hello, travelers. I am one of the four Milfanitos. You met my sister, who had been imprisoned, yes?" She spoke to them in their minds, and the chef and knight from Jugo nodded.
"It is good to know she is safe. Please, rest if you wish. I have little to offer, I am afraid."
"It's quite alright," Benhart said magnimoniously, with everyone else nodding.
"Can you tell us what to expect up ahead?" Erik asked.
"Ruins, mostly," the woman said dryly. "A few Hollows who stumbled here, seeking one treasure or another. And of course, my other two sisters and the dreaded Demon of Song."
"What of the Clerics?"
"Dispatched by the Church when the Darksign first began to rampage across the world. Ancient scriptures spoke of this place as a shrine to a goddess of life, but Amana has been gone from this world for several cycles. They found naught but Death."
The cook winced but nodded in understanding. "Before I forget, I met your father."
The Milfanito sat up straight and nearly stopped singing in her shock.
"He wanted me to tell you that it was 'Time to open the First Coffin,'" Erik relayed. Nito's soul throbbed happily.
"That is the most joyous news I have heard in a very long time, Chosen One, or I suppose Monarch Candidate for this cycle," the seemingly young woman said with a rapturous smile. "Go and find the eldest of our brothers, Agadyne of the Fenito. He will know what to do."
After a bit of a rest the group bid farewell to the woman and headed deeper in the underground realm of the Shrine. Strange, mutated lizard-Hollows wallowed in the water, watching the group but not attacking. The music combined with the firefly-like beetles somehow rendering the Undead docile. Even Erik, Benhart, Vengarl and Mytha could feel the effect, the cursed brand on their flesh much less painful and the ever present numbness mitigated slightly.
The Dark Sister too felt a modicum of peace and tranquility, but knew that to linger in this place would render them comatose like the Hollows the Milfanito's song ensnared. It would take a while, but it would happen. And that worried them. These women were aspects of Nito himself, not unlike how they were of Manus. Perhaps if the quintet of Darklings had met these children of Death earlier, a lot of grief could have been mitigated.
More Clerics barred their way, but despite their skills, each of them fell. Sand and water sprayed about as the Undead clashed. Erik was only slightly shocked to see that he could now handle the legendary knights of his homeland in a one-on-one battle. Drangleic had definitely changed him.
Another tunnel found the Undead confronted by a bunch of Poison Horn Beetles, which had the chef giddy with delight. He always had time for quality ingredients.
Erik had then squealed in delight when they found the largest Poison Horn Beetle ever seen by anyone in the tunnels later on. Erik and Benhart had attacked the poor thing while wiping drool from their lips. It barely had time to cry out in fear before it was laid low and harvested.
He even sampled a few of the glowing mushrooms, since Donovan's tome claimed they were safe to eat with proper preparations.
Not that it was all pleasant. Another cavern had held a number of old temple-like ruins and a bonfire, but was completely swamped with vicious Hollows and a few Orges.
The Hollows were assholes plain and simple, tossing out Sorceries every time one of them popped the tiniest bit out of cover, and their white robes seemed to absorb and reflect a lot of Mytha and the Dark Sister's magic, forcing Benhart and Vengarl to perform insane suicide charges to clear them out.
At least the Ogres were as easy to handle as Erik remembered. That is to say the chef led them on a chase then killed them by tricking them into falling into the deeper parts of the lake and drowning. If they tried to swim, he just froze their limbs and used them as target practice.
"Rather brutal," Vengarl said in approval.
"These things are disgusting and stupid. I mean, I killed two of them by tricking them to fall off a cliff, and another of them killed itself by slipping in some mud and falling on sharp tree branches," Erik said as he watched the bulk of the last beast sink below the dark waters.
"I've cleared out the white robed Hollows!" Benhart cried, hefting one of the Sorcerer's on the end of his sword like the corpse weighed nothing at all. He flicked the Hollow into the lake and watched with grim pleasure as it too sank.
"Good. Let's move on," Elana said with a contemptuous sniff as her glaive bisected another Lizard-Hollow.
They trudged through knee and waist high freezing water and several more sorcery spewing Undead before reaching a circular shrine area. After wiping out the Hollows Vengarl shouted in surprise and removed something from the water.
"What is that?" Mytha asked, awed, while Elana looked impressed.
"This is my Red Rust Twinblade!" the Crimson Knight of Forossa declared, holding up the double-bladed weapon. "I'd loaned it to a friend before I went off to the Brightstone Cove!"
His expression turned grim. "Does that mean Felicia came down here? But why? And if she left it down here…"
He began to walk around, looking at the ground, searching for something.
"Erik, can I borrow your White Soapstone?"
The chef nodded and handed over the item, watching with confusion as his friend held it up. Soon enough, a white glow blazed to life and a name appeared on the ground near the entrance to the area.
"Oh, Felicia," Vengarl said sadly, touching the mark and watching as a White Phantom rose up.
What appeared before them was a woman, clad in heavy armor with a massive tower shield on her back and a great sword in her hands. She took a step back in shock when she saw Vengarl before rushing forward and throwing her arms around him.
"Yes, it's me. I have finally returned." Though his head was covered, it was clear the man was trying not to cry as he held the phantasmal woman. The woman, Felicia, had no desire to hold back her tears, and glittering motes of light dripped down into the water.
None of the group dared to interrupt the pair's long overdue reunion.
After a moment they separated, the two smiling sadly at each other. She pointed at the Twinblade, then at Vengarl.
"Yes, I'm glad to have it back, but more than that I'm regretful it had to be in this way that we see each other again," Vengarl said. More gestures and the knight snorted.
"No, I did not fall asleep on the job again. Duke Tseldora was indeed experimenting on his people. One of his projects took my head clean off."
Felicia gasped then gestured some more.
"Yes, I am Undead now. But that is not why I did not return. To be honest, I was only a severed head for the past few centuries. Only a friend of mine managed to reunite my separated halves."
The warrior-woman looked over, saw Erik, gasped again, and made another flurry of gestures.
"No, that is Donovan's descendant, Erik. Yes, I know he looks like a weak noodle, but he has proven himself. He is the Monarch Candidate after all. But enough about me, what are you doing down here?"
The woman reluctantly made some hand signs causing the Red Rust Knight to grit his teeth and clench his fists.
"That bastard did what?!"
"What is wrong, Vengarl?" Nadalia inquired.
"Felicia was down here as part of the knights sent to accompany King Vendrick and Velstadt in their journey to the Undead Crypt. But that chime-waving scumhat told Felicia that she was not worthy enough to continue onward and had to stay here, fending off the Hollows and acting as a sacrificial rearguard!"
Raime growled angrily and everyone felt anger flicker inside them.
"Velstadt did that?" Mytha hissed.
"He always was a misogynist," Vengarl spat. "But Felicia was one of the best knights! Trained by Syan himself, she was supposed to be his successor before Mr. Right Hand got all uppity."
Growls went around and Felicia nodded unhappily. A few more gestures and the red armored titan sagged his shoulders in sorrow.
"This Summon Sign… she laid it down with her last breath. She did her duty, but…" He looked away, unable to continue. She reached up and patted his arm with a soft smile.
"I'm sorry I was not here sooner, Felicia. If I had known…"
She hugged him, cutting off his rant, and he finally let tears fall as the angelic voice of the third Milfanito sang in the distance.
"Come with us, Felicia. One final battle for old times' sake," Vengarl pleaded, and the warrior-woman nodded and hefted her sword with an eager grin.
With a new companion the group headed on, reaching the next Milfanito. They hurried to her position, and found her inside a stone gatehouse gasping with every breath in front of a Fog Gate.
"Miss, quick, use this!" Erik said, handing the woman an Ancient Life Gem. She took it gratefully and sighed in bliss as its powers washed over her.
"Thank you. Being this close to the Demon's power has drained me. When the king came through, they disrupted our seals and it slipped out. We were forced to corner it here, but sadly it now blocks the entrance to the Crypt. I fear you will have to vanquish it to proceed."
"We've faced Demons before, my lady. This one will be no different," Erik said confidently.
"You have confronted immature Chaos-spawn, but never a true Demon," the Milfanito warned. "And this one has drunk deep of the Darkness and Death that lingers in this place. Be wary when facing it. If you perish to its song, you will have no second chances."
Vaguely unnerved, Erik none the less squared his shoulders and stepped up to the Fog Gate, his companions behind him. Passing through, the chef readied the Blade of Eleum Loyce.
As he stepped into the stony arena, Erik gagged on his fear and bile when he saw what awaited them. A frog. A massive, bloated thing that looked not unlike the tadpole monsters from Shulva, but larger and with defined forearmed. It turned to the intruders, unblinking beady eyes staring at them as they entered. On its back a strange key-shaped blade had been jammed into it, thought it didn't seem to actually be hurting it.
"Doesn't look so tough," Benhart remarked.
Then it opened up its 'mouth' and revealed a second head, this one resembling a skull, with two longer and paler arms poking out. Everyone recoiled in disgust and fear at the sight. They'd all seen weird things, but this was just nasty.
Erik blinked, and felt something wet running down his neck. He raised his left hand and ran his fingers over the skin. They came away dark with Undead ichor.
He opened his mouth to say something, but found he couldn't speak. He tried to move, but his limbs rebelled against him and he toppled headfirst into the floor.
Suddenly, pain! A screeching symphony struck his entire body, every nerve screaming in agony and his bones creaking under the sonic assault. In the corner of his eye he saw everyone else screaming and writhing on the ground as well, except for Felicia and the Dark Sisters. They weren't much better though, staggering around and clutching their ears.
Eventually Elana raised her glaive pointed it at the frog demon. Blessed silence fell and the Demon of Song reached up and pulled its 'head' over its skull. It hopped up and began to charge but was countered by Felicia and Nadalia who slammed into it, halting its movements.
"Move, move, move!" the warrior-queen shouted, and Erik could finally hear noise again. "I cast Muffle but it won't last for long!"
"What was that?!" Erik gasped out as he staggered to his feet.
"The damned Demon lives up to its name! Its voice is a sonic weapon! So loud it cannot be heard, but it still causes catastrophic damage to everything nearby!"
"It's definitely mutated, and for the worse," Alsanna agreed, shifting into her true form along with her sisters.
"Huh?"
"Song Demons are just demonic frogs. Dangerous as all Demons are, but their only ability is to mimic voices and other sounds, thus luring and misleading prey. But this one is ancient! It has evolved beyond its original powers and become capable of using its voice to kill. The only reason we weren't immediately all pulped is because our supernatural and Undead bodies took most of the damage," Nadalia explained to the addled warriors.
They quickly rose and began to attack it, but their blades and spells did nothing. Its hide was even more impenetrable than the two-headed spider's had been, and that had taken a giant stone pillar and a supercharged magic sword laser to cut through it.
The Blue Moon Greatsword's magical blasts faded into nothing upon its blackened hide, and Mytha's spells shattered useless upon it. Vengarl's bloody blades couldn't scratch it, and Felicia's sword bounced off.
"It has to have a weakness!" Erik shouted in frustration as his Cyromancy failed to leave an impact. It was also annoying having the Witch's soul laughing in joy at her monstrous 'child's' growth.
Just then it's 'lips' parted and the skull was revealed again, and everyone fell to their knees as the klaxon slammed into them. Elana's Muffle was still mostly intact, but it was fading rapidly under the assault.
'Attack now!'
Erik didn't even think or question the seductive voice that came to his mind, he just thrust his hand out and let a gout of flames rush at the hideous frog. And shockingly, it hurt the Demon! The creature screeched and immediately retreated into its 'flesh,' hiding the skull which now sported a noticeable burn.
"The insides! Its insides are the weak point! We have to open it up!" Erik cried. He then smirked as a dreadful idea came to him. "And I even have a plan."
He gathered up his friends and quickly outlined what they had to do, their words hidden by an additional Muffle and the frog-thing kept at bay with a few spells tossed towards it. After a moment his companions all grinned maliciously before turning to the Demon.
It had been a long time since the Demon of Song had felt fear. Not since it had fought that life goddess down here had it experienced a thrill of terror rushing through it. Now this motley crew seemed intent on doing what even the goddess could not. Destroy it.
Raime opened the attack with a roar and jumped, grappling the giant frog and wrestling it to the ground. It resisted, hopping around and smashing into the stone formations around it, trying to dislodge the Dark stained knight. But Raime endured, his grip only tightening.
Elana and Mytha were next, helping to keep the limbs pinned while Raime forced the Demon to stay still under his weight. The rest piled in after that, leaving the 'mouth' alone.
As for Erik, he stepped up, a sneer of madness on his lips, and the Demon trembled. For a moment, it thought that it saw a glimpse of its Mother flash inside the human, but its attention was forced back onto the Undead as he set down the Bottomless Box and removed something from within.
"You know, I had wanted to save this for a special occasion," Erik said conversationally as the Demon of Song thrashed about. He closed the lid of his magical chest before facing the monster and holding up a clenched fist.
"Grey Death Chili Peppers, imported from Lanafir and kept fresh inside this Bottomless Box," Erik said, looking at whatever he was hiding in his hand.
"One ounce of this stuff is worth 10 golden coins, or in today's market, 50,000 souls." Jaws dropped from his human companions and Erik's smirk turned razor sharp.
"Yes, this is one of the rarest and most valuable spices in the world. A pinch of it can preserve any meal made with it for a year, and it is said that a Lanafirian king who embalmed himself with the stuff remains in pristine condition to this day, over a thousand years later."
"But that is not all. It is also the hottest edible in the world. Nothing short of literal lava is as burning, and even then just barely. In fact my flesh is literally melting just holding this tiny handful."
Erik tilted his head and gave the Demon of Song a terrible smile. "I wonder what five raw ounces of this stuff would do to you?"
The chef rammed his left hand onto the 'lips' of the Demon, and watched in satisfaction as the smeared Grey Death Chili Pepper Powder caused it to open its mouth and scream in pure agony. He then rubbed the rest of the spice onto its skull-face, and laughed at it couldn't make any more of its sonic attacks.
"Chili peppers are so spicy because they react caustically to the nerves in a person's body. The taste buds are the most sensitive of them all across all beings, and it seems Demons are no exception. And the reason why you cannot make a peep anymore?" Erik taunted as he drew his twisted helix shaped sword with deliberate slowness, his companions shivering at his sadistic side.
"When the tongue and lips come into contact with chili peppers, they swell as the acids inside the plant react painfully to the softer and tender flesh. And since the tongue and lips are part of how sounds are shaped, when they're swollen regular vocalizations cannot be made," Erik said, before pressing the tip of his sword against the skull.
Golden light flickered in his eyes as he stared at the Demon, and ancient abomination silently screamed as it saw its Mother watching its demise with a sick glee. And all the while a fathomless Flame burned inside the young man's soul.
"You are a mockery of Life. Burn."
Erik shoved the sword into the monster, and unleashed every drop of Pyromancy he had into it. Golden flames erupted from the sword and rushed into the Demon's mouth, immolating it from the inside out. So powerful were these flames that they began to rupture the dark flesh, and Erik's companions hurried away lest they be caught up in the inferno.
From the sidelines they watched in awe as the Demon of Song was utterly destroyed. It soul, a sick, bloody red and orange thing, appeared briefly inside the blaze but was devoured by the gilded flames that raged. Never again would it rise.
Only the key remained, miraculously unharmed by the eldritch flames.
Erik panted loudly as the energy left him, and he collapsed into the water as the strange magical flames started to die out. And later, they would all swear they saw an extremely beautiful woman with raven hair and mismatched eyes staring out at them from within the dying blaze before she too vanished.
"Well, that was… new."
"Indeed it was. You are definitely something special, Erik Potts," Elana praised. "The First Flame did well in choosing you as its champion."
"Is this going to be a thing with you? Pulling out brand new powers every other major battle?" Vengarl griped, though his inflection was joking. The chef shrugged as Mytha coddled him in her bosom.
The Red Rust Knight laughed before turning to face Felicia, who smiled sadly. The Fog Gate was dissipating, and with it, the magic that bound her was broken. Vengarl snapped a salute.
"It was an honor to fight alongside you one last time, Felicia the Brave. May we see each other again in the future."
The warrior-woman snapped a salute of her own as she started to fade, her powers draining away. Tears sparkled in her eyes, and she mouthed final words to the large man before pointing to a ring on her right hand.
"…Yes. Maybe in another life we can fight with each other again. And love each other again, as we never could in this one. Goodbye."
The room grew a little bit darker as the White Phantom left them for good.
A/N: In Dark Souls 1, the Gold Coins you can find and feed to Frampt are worth 5,000 souls each. I used this as the basis for the currency conversion. Since Maughlin and the other merchants use souls for trade, what decides the conversation ratio? This is my take on Dark Souls economics.