Chapter 51: Revelations and Final Steps
"Who are you?" Erik demanded.
"Did you not hear me? I am you. Or rather, your past. A pleasure to meet me. I am the God of Peace, he who was the first to reignite the First Flame."
"Why can I not hear my own name?" Erik asked.
"Because you are not me. Not anymore. We share the same soul but you have your own life to live. If I let you hear our old name, you would regress and become me, instead of staying you. It is a kindness."
"Alright," Erik said slowly, not fully understanding. The world shifted, and they were in an amazing throne room. Not-Erik was now on the gilded seat, staring down at the chef who stood in front of him.
"Why am I here?"
"Just to give you a warning, and some free advice," the God of Peace declared.
No more did he look like a copy of Erik. Now he was a towering figure of raw power, his brown hair had grown longer and was more like flowing amber, while his eyes glowed gold. He wore gold and purple clothes fit for an emperor, with magical rings on each finger of his hand.
"First, the warning. Aldia has become the ash and soot of the First Flame. If he kills you, there is no hope of the restoring the First Flame. He will flood the world with Void should he win, and the world will end. No more souls, no more reincarnation, no more salvation."
"Void?"
"The twisted, perverted form of Dark," Not-Erik explained. "Light beget Destruction, Life beget Chaos, Death beget Occult, and Dark beget Void. Aldia has become so drenched in the Abyss he has become the representation of its greatest evil potential."
"What is your advice, then?" Erik asked.
"Light the First Flame with Love," the God of Peace said. "If malice lies in your heart the world will be dyed with it. But should you light the First Flame with love in your soul, the world shall reflect such positivity."
"That's… very interesting," Erik said slowly. "I'm actually kind of surprised there are no cryptic messages or vague explanations that leave me more questions."
"Frampt and others may love that sort of bullshit but not me," Not-Erik snorted. "Clearly explaining why something should or should not be done just makes more sense. I have never understood why some prefer that run-around rigmarole. It makes everything worse in the long run when people need clear guidance but don't receive it."
"Well, alright then," Erik said. "Can I ask something else?"
"Sure," Not-Erik said with a shrug.
"I was led to believe that Gwyndolin was hostile towards the Sisters of Dark. Why was so mellow when he met them?"
"I can only assume that since three of them were with you and directly opposed to Nashandra's machinations he's decided to leave them alone. For now."
"Is that all?" Erik asked, confused.
"Yup. Have fun reaching the end game. And remember, live for yourself."
The godly version of Erik waved his hand and the chef felt himself swallowed by light.
\\~~~/
"Ouch… my head feel like someone tried to drive a Lightning Spear through my skull," Erik groaned. Eyes closed, he reached out as he rose from where he lay, only to freeze when his palm encountered something soft.
"If I open my eyes, will I find myself groping a woman?" Erik wondered out loud.
"Yes, you will. Release me or die."
Erik quickly snapped his hand back, cold sweat on his neck. Opening his eyes, the chef found himself looking into the face of an annoyed Emerald Herald.
"Sorry," Erik squeaked. "I didn't mean to!"
"I know. It's the only reason I'm not tossing you off the edge."
He heard a snort of amusement from nearby, and turned his head slightly to see Mytha struggling to contain her laughter.
He found himself in a rather small and unfamiliar room with a bonfire in the middle. Behind him was a pair of large black doors not unlike the ones that had sealed off Aldia's manor, and in front of him in an open courtyard was a twisted tree that looked like a dead Giant.
Looking around, the Undead chef saw everyone else was nearby as well, minus the brass armored woman and Gwyndolin.
"Where'd he go?" Erik asked.
"The Darksun left after you passed out. He wants you to know that the journey is almost finished," Shanalotte said. "Elana and her siblings were surprised when he did nothing to antagonize the Sisters. But we're not looking a gift horse in the mouth at the moment. Afterwards, we decided to move you here."
"Why? Where am I?"
"Welcome back to Castle Maranja in the Giant's Forest. It's where the Last Giant was held, waiting for Monarch Candidates," Shanalotte explained. "As for why, you must use the power of the Ashen Mist Heart to obtain an artifact from the past."
"Oh. Is that all?" Erik deadpanned, earning a snort of laughter from Vengarl.
"Oh, it gets better!" the Red Rust Knight cackled. "None of us know what the item is, only that it is held by the King of Giants, whose corpse rests right in front of you!"
The chef's gaze drifted to the dark and mangled tree-Giant.
"So I have to go back in time to steal something from an ancient, gigantic warlord? Who, I might add, hates humans? And knowing my luck, that heart-soul thing will drop me into the midst of the battle, where I will have to fight said ancient, gigantic warlord for the unknown artifact?"
Everyone nodded their heads and Erik bit back a scream of frustration.
"Since you absorbed the Ashen Mist Heart, you can now travel through time if you use its power on the corpses of others," Shanalotte explained. "But only for those who have incredible powers, or you possess their soul."
"So I could travel back to meet the gods that dwell inside me?" Erik questions, putting a hand on his chest in curiosity.
"Probably not. Time travel is imprecise, and would need a strong connection to the past and lots of energy. As old as the Lord Souls are now, it'd be useless to try and travel back in time to meet the previous owners," Nadalia explained.
With a grunt Erik stood up from the ground, looking intently at the Giant King's corpse.
"Hey, Erik, what did you see when you touched the Ashen Mist Heart?" Mytha asked, her curiosity reflecting that of everyone else.
"I saw… me," Erik replied cryptically.
Ignoring their peeved expressions with only a tiny smirk on his lips, he approached the tree-body.
"Hmm. Alright, so, what do I do, just put my hand on the bark…?"
As soon as his fingertips brushed over the oddly warm surface, a sucking sensation struck the cook, and he felt his body fade, his entire frame vanishing into motes of grey light.
Everyone shared a look. After a moment Aslatiel reached into a pocket, pulling out a deck of cards.
"The name of the game is 'Strip Poker…'"
\\~~~/
Erik found himself in a strange, grey-hued realm. It looked like the battlements of the castle he had stood in moments before, but now new and mostly unbroken.
'Mostly' being the keyword because massive stones and balls of fire were raining upon the walls of the castle as Giants battled against the puny human defenders.
"This is brutal," Erik muttered, holding down his bile as a knight was smashed under a crude club. There were only three Giants on the walls, but one of them was massive and wore a crown while carrying an impressively large sword.
The chef took a few tentative steps out, feeling the Last Giant's soul keen soulfully as it stared upon its king.
As if hearing the soul's words, every single massive, cyclopean holed head turned towards Erik.
He froze, especially when he realized he didn't have his sword or armor with him. In his coma-like state, someone must have stripped his equipment from him. His Fireseed remained, though. Not that it'd do much.
As he trembled, the King of Giants strode forward, pushing his subordinates out of the way, leaning down to face the tiny human who had the soul of one of his own.
"You… have the Darksign… and reek of Time Travel…" It groaned out in surprisingly articulate Common. Erik nodded. It tilted its massive head to the side as if listening to something.
The chef could feel the Last Giant's soul doing something, but could not comprehend it.
"Noble Enkindler and reincarnation of the God of Peace, I, King Jeigh of the Giants, greet you," the towering lord said suddenly, bending his knee to the stunned cook.
"Um, thank you," Erik said slowly.
"My daughter speaks highly of you. From the moment you stepped on the Monarch Candidate's path, she has watched you, and approves. Take this. Relight the First Flame."
A ring was pulled off the king's hand, which shrunk as it was tossed to Erik. He stared at the tiny object. It was simple, but oozed power that resonated within him.
"This is the Giant's Kinship, a ring your past self forged to honor the sacrifice of Hawkeye Gough and the help of the Giant blacksmith of Anor Londo. Take it."
"I'm sorry, this is all very confusing and surprising," Erik admitted. Jeigh laughed.
"Understandable. You likely thought you would do battle against me, perhaps? Had you been any other Monarch Candidate, I would have." The king looked out over the battle field, his two soldiers, watching the area.
"I am among the last of my kin in this land. We came here in a rage to take back our children that wretched Dark Lady had taken from us, only to find, to our horror, she and another had debased them. Ruined them. Mutilated them. Vengeance was the only answer. But, it was all a trick."
Jeigh looked down at Erik, and the chef could feel the sorrow pour off of the Giant. In fact, he noticed they all seemed to communicate through exuding their emotions.
"Now, many years after a long, pointless war, I stand weeping. Less than a dozen of us are left. The forces of the Iron King sweep south, and Vendrick has driven the rest of us here, to this castle, the very first place we attacked."
"Make our sacrifice mean something. Light the First Flame, and stop Aldia. Nashandra is but a pawn to a greater evil. Beware the Scholar of the First Sin."
His piece spoken, the Giant King hefted his sword, striding off to do battle. At the far end of the battlements, Erik could see familiar armored figures. Raime, Velstadt, Vengarl, and King Vendrick himself, all striding towards the last of the grief stricken Giants.
A haze of grey surrounded Erik, and before anything else could happen, he fell backwards, tumbling through time and space back to his comrades.
As he reappeared, Erik staggered to his feet, only to freeze yet again as he saw his friends and companions stripped out of their armor, and some in their undergarments.
"…Want to play a round of Strip Poker before we charge off to finish your quest?" Aslatiel asked as his sister and the Emerald Herald blushed and tried to hide their scantily clad bodies from the chef's view.
"…Sure. Why not. I could use some normality before running headfirst into madness once more," Erik said wearily.
"Playing Strip Poker against several ancient and powerful beings is normal?" Alsanna inquired.
"I have a feeling it really is, at least for me," Erik said as all of his souls cracked up with laughter.
.
\\~~~/
Giant's Kinship: A ring forged in an ancient time to honor the pact between Gods and Giants. Gifted to the King of Giants in their ancestral homeland by the God of Peace, it signified a promise of unity.
Sadly, over the countless Cycles of the First Flame the oaths of friendship were forgotten and betrayed, and the Giants chose to seal off their borders, dwelling in their kingdom alone. When war once more came to the Giants, King Jeigh slipped on the ring in a futile hope that someone might remember and honor its ancient promises.
Whoever wears the Giant's Kinship can speak the language of the Giants, and is recognized as a lord worthy of their respect and service. It grants a small boost to stamina recovery and damage against targets that are bigger than the wearer.