In the Nexus, the Maiden in Black placed her head between her knees. The visions were coming back again.

She remembered sight. She remembered the feeling of color. The texture and richness of depth. She remembered sunsets and sunrises and the moon, glowing brightly on the harvest nights. She remembered how days turned into nights so seamlessly that even if you were paying attention, you wouldn't notice. She remembered the clouds above and the ocean below and reflections, glorious, beautiful reflections.

It was all gone.

And at that moment, it came to her again, his pain. A pain that he thought was alien to her, but in reality was all that she had ever known. She fantasized about being able to communicate that, about somehow telling him what she knew and what she'd known and how she felt about everything, but the ages between them weakened their conversations, and sometimes she was not sure if he even understood her. Sometimes, she did not know if she even remembered how to be understood. It had been a thousand years since anyone had listened to her...and like a muscle, her ability to speak her thoughts clearly had atrophied.

The Nexus felt empty, and the faint smell of blood had not yet been wiped away.

She knew what she had to do, to make him understand, but she did not want to do it. In his state, he may not be able to handle it. It may send him even deeper into the abyss.

But then she remembered the way that he had been before he left, and she realized that she had no choice.

When he returned, she knew what she would do.

They continued down the bridges and boards and the endless ramps. There always seemed to be eyes lurking the darkness, watching, waiting to strike. Ostrava felt small, helpless, like a minnow in a black ocean.

And then there was the man walking with him. The one without a name.

Nobility first. It flashed back to him, he hadn't known what to say then, and he still didn't know what to say now. How had he figured it out? That was the biggest question. The swamp was a mysterious place, but it seemed unlikely that Nameless would find something proclaiming his true identity here.

If he knew, he might as well talk to him about it.

"Nameless," Ostrava started.

"Yes...?" He turned, strangely, almost inhumanly. Ostrava found himself wondering for the first time, and not the last, whether there was nothing more than a shadow beneath that armor, if it was a ghost bound to steel through sorcery, and not a man at all.

"...Do you...know who I am?"

Nameless turned away again.

"You called me nobility."

"We don't have time for these discussions. They could attack at any moment," his voice said, fading in and out of its odd transience.

"You can't say something like that and then go silent," Ostrava said, stopping.

Biorr looked back, "Wait...wait, I missed that. What's goin on?"

"Are you going to stand still, waiting for a demon ambush, until I fully reveal your identity?" Nameless said. "Truly, a marvel of a plan."

"Biorr knows. You're the only one here who shouldn't, and you do," said Ostrava. "Tell me how."

Ostrava tried his hardest not to be rude as he said it. He wanted to get on this man's good side...if there was anything left resembling one.

"Wait, does he-" Biorr started.

"I already knew," Nameless said, and Ostrava may have noticed a strange tone in his voice, if the voice wasn't already full of strange tones regardless. "You were bad at hiding it, and I'd heard stories of the Prince traveling, masquerading as a knight. It wasn't hard to figure out."

"-Oh bloody hell, I knew we couldn't hide it, lad."

Ostrava waved Biorr off, and spoke up. "I should explain myself, then. If you're going to hear a version of the story, you should hear mine."

"Fine." Nameless said. "But while we walk...and don't get distracted."

And without waiting for an answer, he started walking again.

Ostrava began to speak.

"I never had an interest in Politics. But I was the only male heir my father had...I...I don't know what happened to my sisters when Boletaria...when everything fell apart. But I haven't seen them. I'm sorry. I should start from the beginning."

"All throughout my childhood, there were already whispers. They knew who the king would be. They all did. My father had me sit in during all his meetings. I understood none of them, I paid attention to none of them. I had no interest in those matters. All that I wanted, all that I had ever wanted, was to be a Knight."

"I was trained, of course, as all Princes are trained, and I did everything in my power to learn, but my father kept pulling me away for my duties. I can't help but feel like I would have been a stronger warrior if I hadn't had to leave my training behind so often."

"Still, should have, could have, and would have are not worth worrying over. My sisters were both married off, and when I came to adulthood, I was promised the throne. Like any irresponsible youth, I panicked. I had a suit of armor secretly crafted for myself, a sword prepared, and took one of my families most magical shields, a repeller of magic. I knew...that my father didn't have long left. And I knew that the moment he died, I would be on the throne. I couldn't handle that pressure. I couldn't take it."

"So in the night, I fled. I still remember, though. I remember riding off, and as I did...seeing one of those...those things, waddling in toward the kingdom. It had no horse, it was on foot, which at the time, seemed odd...and it looked at me. Its eyes followed me...and there was a huge grin on its face. I thought that it was an omen. I thought that it meant I should leave sooner..."

"I became something of a Knight-Errant in other lands. I did what I could to fight for the just, and such...it was horribly naïve, however. Most of the time I wasn't fighting. I was trying to eat. When the common folk weren't being assaulted by bandits...which was actually very often, by the way, bandits don't tend to assault people where others can see them...they looked at me as little more than a vagabond. It was humiliating...but I wanted to avoid the throne so much, that I kept at it."

"Then, I heard about the fog."

"It was, of course, gossip spread by townspeople...as least as far as I knew. I resisted for a long time. I convinced myself that it was nothing substantial...but then I heard stories of famous heroes venturing to Boletaria, and never coming back. It was when Vallarfax of The Twin Fangs Encountered me...that I knew."

"My brother," Biorr said proudly.

Ostrava nodded and continued, "Vallarfax told me everything...and told me honestly. And told me that I needed to return. It was my kingdom. It was my duty. He told me he'd return, eventually, but he had to find others to help as well. I still don't know what happened to him..."

"Ack, he's fine, lad," Biorr said. "He can handle himself, and we're the ones in the fog, not'im."

"I guess you're right...but, anyway. He convinced me. I came back, I didn't know what to expect...and you can imagine what I found. Ruins, destruction, everywhere. Dragons, undead, and, of course, demons. When I saw one of the Ministers for the first time, with a face just like the one I'd seen walking in toward the kingdom, I felt sick. I killed him...and I found a key on his belt, and with that key I freed Biorr...and we've been traveling ever since."

"Thank ye again for that, lad," Biorr said.

Ostrava looked to the ground as they walked, "I...don't know what we're going to accomplish here, but I'm fighting. I'm fighting for my kingdom. My family may still be alive...but...in case they aren't...I'm prepared, now. If my father is dead, I will take the throne...and...I think that I'm the only hope left for this kingdom. I need to get to the castle. I need...I need to find out what happened to him."

Nameless didn't react as Ostrava spoke, he just kept watching, and making sure that they were safe, but when Ostrava mentioned being the only hope left for the kingdom, he gave a slight start, barely perceptible. The Prince himself didn't notice it.

Biorr did.

They were walking through a small village when they heard the first screams.

"Madman! It's a madman!"

Astraea turned just in time to see blood, blooding swinging through the air and dripping from a swinging blade. The man holding it was jittering and twitching as his entire body swayed with each thrust. His blade cut through a man's hand as they watched.

"Milady!" Garl said, and stepped forward, Osford as well.

Don't just stand there, stop him. She wanted to scream, but before she could, the man came so close to her that they had to. Osford's sword came forward swiftly, and cut off the man's hand that was holding the blade. He staggered...and for a moment, Astraea saw it, his face. A bird-like, beaked visage that appeared to almost be a doctor's mask. She saw his sunken eyes, and in them, she saw terror, bewilderment, and confusion.

He fell to the ground, and she came forward.

"Milady, what are you-" Garl started, but didn't have time to finish. She caught the man before he hit the ground.

"Garl, use your faith to heal the injured," she said. "I'll...I'll tend to this man."

Osford and Garl looked at eachother, for once both equally confused. But Garl went to do as she said. Osford just stared.

She looked deep into his eyes, and she saw the confusion again, she saw it as his life faded. Osford had cut him just right, and his artery was emptying into her robe, staining the bright white a vibrant red.

What was this? A new version of the plague? She couldn't quite understand it. What could cause a human being to become so misshapen, his skin to become so red? As she held him, she watched his expression change, the confusion was replaced by something...human, again. He looked up at her, blinked rapidly, and then was gone.

She lowered her head.

"Maiden Astraea," Osford said. "With all due respect: The man was a murderer."

"No..." she said. "Something made him a murderer...I just...I don't know what it is."

"Milady," Garl said, coming back to them. "It's done."

"Good..." she said. "I just...let's leave, now. I can no longer bear this."

She gently laid the man's misshapen head on the ground in front of her, then wiped the tears away from her eyes, and stood. Osford was focused on the crowd surrounding her, confused and piteous and perhaps harmful, but Garl watched her intently. His face could not be seen through his helm.

Her knights parted the crowd as she walked through. People staggered out of the way and stared her down, and she saw their desperate eyes. She saw the man clutching at his fingers, which were healed over, but still stubs. In a morbid moment, she realized that what had happened to him would normally have been a death sentence. In an environment like this, a single wound, no matter how small, would be infected in no time at all.

As they left the town behind, and continued to wander the boarded webs, Garl did not stop looking at her. He must have seen it, somehow, he saw everything. She was supposed to be a Saint, she was supposed to be inhuman, but when she stood around him, it seemed almost impossible. It was a bad trait for a bodyguard to have, she knew. She should have replaced him long ago, but somehow it seemed okay...welcome, even. She could cry near Garl, and he would look at her the same way he would look at a normal crying woman.

She was removed from her thoughts when Garl and Osford suddenly stopped.

She looked up, "What's going on?"

Garl stepped out of her way, and she saw it. In front of them was an odd sight in a swamp: a massive cavern.

They stood before a tunnel, the entrance shrouded in fog.

"Is this the end?" Ostrava asked.

"Yes," Nameless said. "And they haven't ambushed us."

Ostrava felt his nerves rising. When he focused on Nameless, for some reason, they rose even higher. His companion's grip on his sword seemed loose and shaky. More than it had been when fighting the giant.

"Bloody cowards," Biorr said.

From far off, there was an ugly snicker.

"No..." Nameless said. "They think it'd be pointless...we won't beat whatever's in there. It's impossible."

"Are you being serious?" Ostrava said.

"Yes."

"So ye don't think we stand a chance?" Biorr said. "Not even a small one."

"No."

"...Then are you saying we should turn around?" Ostrava asked.

"No. I'm saying that we should fight it anyway."

"But you just said that we'd die."

"I have died. Many times."

Ostrava looked at Biorr.

The big man grimaced, then pulled his massive swords off of his back, "well, fine, then. If ye don't think we'll win that just makes it a better challenge. We'll see it try to get through me."

He pounded his armor with the broad edge of one of his swords, and the powerful clanking echo of metal on metal resounded against the walls of the valley. They heard some of the monsters on the outside of the circle scurrying away in fear.

Ostrava grimaced, and brandished his weapon as well. Whatever was in there, they had to fight it.

Nameless looked back at them, "Are we ready?"

"Didn't ye hear me, lad!?"

Ostrava gulped, then nodded.

Nameless turned away, and entered the fog.

"I'm right behind ye," Biorr said to Ostrava.

Ostrava gave him one last look, then entered behind Nameless. The thick gray soup felt like suspended liquid, and he had to push his way through it.

Neither of them saw Biorr's eyes narrow, just before he entered.

When Nameless emerged from the fog, he at first wondered if there was a demon here at all. A catwalk went along the cliffside just as they had seen before. Below, however, there was a bottom. A pool of green, sickly water.

"What's down there?" He heard Ostrava's voice, so suddenly that he jumped. "Is there a demon?"

"Not that I can see, no," he said, and stepped forward.

With his first step, they emerged.

It was not one being, but an amalgamation of filth, thousands upon thousands upon thousands of leechs climbed up on top of one another and formed something vaguely humanoid, it happened so quickly that they hardly had time to respond. At first, all that he could do was stare, in disgust.

Then it bent its arm back, thrusted forward, and threw its fist at them.

Instinctively, Nameless pulled Ostrava out of the way. The mass of leeches flew past them and hid the side of the cave wall with a wet splat. It writhed and wriggled there, falling apart and even eating away at the stone beneath it.

Biorr entered just in time to see it.

"What the hell was-" he started.

"Move!" Nameless said. "Down the planks! We need to get to it!"

As it threw its other fist, there was no time to argue, they darted out of the way just as it hit the wall again. More leeches crawled up from the mud and water, and took the place of the ones that had been tossed away.

"What is this thing...?" Ostrava asked, as they ran.

"The Demon's Soul must have divided itself and possessed every one of these leeches," Nameless said.

"That's possible?"

"It's what a Demon does. Now run faster."

They ran down the catwalk ducking and dodging around the balls of leeches. Suddenly, the thing's arms were absorbed into its body, which stretched and elongated. More leeches crawled up it and stretched it further, until it was a massive tentacle.

"What's it doing-"

The tentacle went up into the air, then came down, heavy, onto the boards, smashing through them. It landed right between them, and glanced Ostrava, who cried out, barely heard over the sound of his armor denting. When part of the boards were torn down, the rest followed, the rotten and poorly maintained wood collapsing. Biorr backed up and managed to avoid the collapsing section, but Ostrava fell forward, and his upper body landed against the other end of the bridge. He grabbed at it desperately, and managed to hold half his body up, but the heavy greaves on his legs weighed him down, and he dangled there, neither able to rise nor fall.

Nameless stood there, frozen.

"H-help..." Ostrava panted.

Nameless only stood, his expression impossible to decipher.

"What are ye doin, lad!?" Biorr roared. "Pick'im up!"

Another ball of leeches flew toward Nameless, and he jumped out of the way. He gave one last look back at Ostrava, and then kept running.

Biorr cursed, and charged. He knew, instinctively, that his armor was too heavy, but in the moment he refused to connect it to the consequences of his actions, using almost all of his energy he jumped through the air, and landed just perfectly on the other side of the walkway to smash through it, sending himself plummeting, and then Ostrava, grasping at the boards, who fell just behind him.

Mid-air, Biorr reached out, and took Ostrava into his arms. They fell through three more sections of rotten wood that slowed their fall, breaking against Biorr's plated back. Finally, they hit the soft, wet ground. Shock resounded throughout his body, but it was shock, nothing more, not even the slightest pain.

They both panted.

"You...thank god..." Ostrava murmured.

Then he screamed.

"Oh my god...they're on me...they're in my armor! They're biting me!"

Biorr craned his head up, and saw the pile of leeches crawling on Ostrava's back, climbing in between the joints in his armor. As he watched, some of them started falling onto him, and trying to climb through his helmet.

There was the sick sound of more approaching. Piles of them, crawling along the ground toward the two men.

Nameless kept running along the wood. A tendril came toward him and he ducked. A second came below and he jumped over it. A third came level with his chest, and he swung his sword to cut it away. There was the unearthly scream of a million leeches, and half of the arm flew off and hit the boardwalk, but that didn't stop them, they grabbed onto his boot. He tried to shake them off, but that only distracted him. When the next volley of leeches came, he wasn't prepared. They hit him, and knocked him against the side of the way, plastering him there as if he'd been hit with a giant wad of glue...but the glue was crawling, and it crawled into him.

He managed to compose himself enough to pull away and keep running. He couldn't feel them in there, but he was dimly aware of things crawling at his armor, biting at him, sucking the pieces of soul away from his barely tangible body. If he had still had one, he might have puked...but there was no need to when you had no real stomach.

He scrambled down to the bottom, and ran through the wet mud. The moment he got there, however, the creature hit him with a tentacle. He was knocked aside and hit the muddy ground. As he tried to collect and reorient himself, he became aware of it again, by the sounds: they were crawling all over him.

He scrambled along the ground, but with every movement more of them clung to him. He had the familiar feeling of being discorporated, but this time it stemmed from literally being torn apart. They sucked pieces out of him and his fingers clutched at the dirt that was filled with them. He couldn't see anything other than their bodies, he couldn't hear anything aside from their tearing, incessant sucking.

Under the boardwalk, Biorr stood, and pulled Ostrava up, he stomped on them, but there were too many. For every one that he killed, five more would land on his foot. Soon, his legs were covered in them, and he could hardly move anymore. Either he imagined it, or they were trying to pull him to the ground.

Ostrava wasn't doing any better. Biorr could see the blood draining from his face.

"Biorr..." Ostrava murmured.

"What is it, lad?"

"...He was right. We can't fight this. We can't...we can't win."

"To hell with that," Biorr said, but in his heart, for once, there was doubt. Next to them, there was a shriveled body. Another person who had tried and failed to beat this monstrosity. He examined it, examined how they would look once the blood was entirely drained from them.

Then he saw the packets on his belt.

"...Hey," Biorr said to Ostrava.

"...Yes," Ostrava said, quiet and weak.

"Is that...is that turpentine?"

For a moment, they both stared in dumbstruck gratitude.

Praise be the Lord, Umbasa.

Nameless felt his ability to move slowly disappearing. He felt his energy dying out. The leeches tore at him and bit and sucked and soon there would be nothing left.

Then, he was vaguely aware of light, of the roar of a flame.

And suddenly far less of them were tearing at him, practically none.

He looked up, and saw Ostrava, his helmet gone, wielding a flaming sword. Without smiling, the prince held out his hand, and Nameless grabbed on, and stood. Still silently, Ostrava handed Nameless a packet of Turpentine.

He turned just in time to see Biorr charging the monster, roaring like a lion, both of his swords burning. The red-hot steel cut through and incinerated the leeches, and popping sounds were heard as they exploded like overcooked meat. Ostrava followed, and after lighting his sword, Nameless went with them.

Whenever it tried to fight, they cut it down. Its tentacles, its projectiles, its every weapon, they burned it all. The thousands of organisms melted away into a pile of toasted flesh.

Eventually, some of the leeches tried to flee, but they let none of them escape, they stomped on them and lit their remains. The entire cave filled with the scent of cooked leech, and it would be disgusting if it wasn't so satisfying.

Finally, the monster roared its last, and collapsed into fragments of dead worms.

And then he felt it. He felt his vague placeholder senses becoming real. He felt his organs float in, and his heart start beating. He felt his eyes fill and his lips forming and every part of his body becoming something real.

The demon was dead, and he had absorbed its souls.

Afterward, Biorr and Nameless searched the cave for loot, or anything else that might be helpful. They moved across the cavern from Ostrava, who seemed to be able to do nothing more than sit down and curse.

"I can't believe...I can't believe we beat that thing," Ostrava yelled across the cave to them, though they were blocked off from him, and he couldn't see them.

"Based on what I'm used to...that was fairly easy," Nameless said.

"Didn't stop you from freezing up," Ostrava said. "Next time, try to maintain your composure. We need to be able to help eachother, it's the only way we'll make it."

Nameless didn't respond to that, instead he just gave a quick glance to the muddy ground.

That was all that Biorr needed.

"Ye didn't freeze up," he said.

Nameless couldn't turn in time. Biorr picked his armored body up as if it were nothing, and threw him against the wall, then held him there, his other hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Ye may think I'm a jovial, laughing man who likes to sleep, lad...but I've been around longer than ye have, and I ain't naïve. I know a man contemplating treachery when I see him...even when he's a ghost...I could gut ye right now, and I'd feel justified. But I need ye to tell me first what ye were thinking. How ye knew he was a prince, and why ye were perfectly fine with him dying. Ye'll tell me everything...do ye understand!?"

Nameless just stared.

"Do ye understand!?"

"Or what?"

There was a pause.

"You'll kill me?" Nameless asked. "...Or torture me?"

"I might," Biorr said.

"So you'll kill me, who can't die. You'll torture me...who has already had everything stripped from him, who has already lost everything emotionally and who can only even feel physical pain as long as I have this body. Once it's gone...there's nothing you can do. And I assure you: I can kill myself...I've done it before."

Biorr glared, but his lip quivered.

"I will tell you nothing," Nameless said. "Because there is nothing that you can do to make me tell you."

Biorr pulled the sword away, and dropped him. Nameless almost fell over when he landed, then stood up, and started to walk away.

"Let's get this straight, then," Biorr said, before he left. "If ye get close to him again, even for an instant, I will cut yer head off. If ye choose not to help him, if ye sabotage him, if ye do anything at all that I don't like, I will cut yer head off again. I will do it every time I see ye acting suspicious, and I will do it every time I just don't like the look on yer face...ye told me that ye can't die. Fine, how many times do ye want to be killed?"

Nameless stared at him, then stepped away.

Biorr growled heavily. From now on, he wasn't letting this phantom out of his sights.

Sorry about the huge delay. Was working on a lot of other things. I'll try to finish the next five or so chapters before I take another break. I have a lot of story to tell in that time, so let's see if I can do it.

Thank you for your reviews. They're ever-encouraging. This has been an interesting experiment, and it's been a largely successful one. I'd like to think that Demon's Souls deserves to have its story more elaborated upon, and I'm happy to provide that.

That being said, my plan for this fanfiction was approximately 30 chapters, which would mean that we're roughly halfway there. I hope that you stick around until the end.