Clearing the room of crystal hollows was easy enough. In fact, the humans did nothing at all. The instant someone noticed another one, her gleaming eyes locked on, and she had slain it before anyone had time to blink. They were still quite out of breath, however, as a result of trying to beat her to the enemies. Aside from Siegmeyer, they were no mere adventurers, so they decided to leave the chests alone rather than learn what a "mimic" was.
At last, they congregated at the elevator platform at the far end of the room. To the right, bookcases lined the wall.
"Perhaps they slide," Hanser said idly. "I have seen such before."
"Thou hast?" Jeremiah asked. "A novel idea. In Izalith, we had a great deal of space but had to be mindful of fire hazards."
Arnalt snickered but stopped when Hanser glared at him.
"Siegmeyer, you seem to be the strongest among us. See if you can move the one in back."
The knight took hold of either side and heaved. The bookcase rattled but did not move.
"It sounds as though it's locked in place. Appropriate enough for a secret passage, I suppose," Hanser murmured.
Siegmeyer grunted and tugged with all his might. Abruptly, the wood snapped from the pressure, and he slammed into the other bookcase, knocking a few volumes to the floor.
"The prophet made no mention of a means of opening it, but I don't believe any of you wishes to die for the sake of opening a door, do you?"
Priscilla had been silent for the most part, but now she spoke up: "Perhaps I could speak with my father. Surely, he would prefereth grant us entry o'er having his Archives turned upside-down in pursuit of the key."
Hanser looked grim.
"I fear he may not be as you remember him, child."
The crossbreed gripped her scythe tightly and stared at her feet.
"I do not much remember him. I saw him once a year or so. Every birthday, Mother and I visited him to record my growth and ensure I was healthy. He would give me some small gift. I only saw him otherwise when I fell ill, for who could heal the bearer of a killing curse but one who could not die?"
Jeremiah reached up to pat her back, but she shook it off.
"I will ask my father that he grant us access… and if he can excuseth his crimes, of which I have heard much, now and in mine exile."
She walked away solemnly and pulled the lever of the elevator. The rails slid shut, separating her from the others as she rose to the next floor. At the top was a rectangular room. Crystal dripped from the walls like ice, and a noise like the winter wind whistled through the passage on the right. Priscilla stooped slightly as she entered.
It was taller than a human but not quite tall enough for a half-dragon monstrosity such as herself. Soon, the passage turned to a staircase, and a knight likewise covered in crystal leapt at her. Barely able to move, she blocked his crystalline sword with her scythe and took a deep breath. She exhaled slowly and steadily, a cold fog billowing out of her mouth. The knight struggled to get away as the rest of his body slowly turned to crystal.
She shook her head sadly and swatted the statue aside with the head of her scythe. As she climbed, the passage grew increasingly crystallized, and large protrusions make passing through difficult, as she had to take to her knees or make short hops to go under or over, all the while being careful not to catch her coat on the spikes. At last, she reached a small level chamber. Before her was a doorway blocked by the white fog. She took a deep breath, for her own sake this time, and pushed through.
The room beyond was so filled with crystal that its original shape had been lost. At the opposite side of the room, where the crystal was thickest, rose an emaciated humanoid torso that gleamed white as snow. The head, however, was that of a dragon, eyeless and with five great crooked horns. Beneath the first set was a smaller ring just above brow level. From the back sprouted six iridescent wings like an insect's, but shaped like a bird's.
"Fllllllesh of my flesh."
The voice came without warning. The great dragon's maw did not move, but the sexless, choking whisper wriggled in her ear as if the monster were sitting on her shoulder.
"It has been mmmmmany centuries. I am pllllllleased to see you have made frrrriends. I ttttold your mother that ssssocialization was important for a child's mental growth. Alassssss, her plans for you were quiiiiiite intractable."
The voice laughed like cicadas buzzing.
"And when you proooooved too soft-hearted, she cassst you aside. A sssshame. I could have uuuuuused an assistant at the time. Ssssomeone that blasted bishop would not have wwwwwatched so carefully. Well, he was dealllllllt with eventually. Your mother owed me thhhhhhat much."
The insectile laughter hissed in her ears again, and she shuddered.
"A ssssshame things have turned out as they have. I knnnnnnew from the beginning, of course, but I do so miss those simmmmmmmpler times. Tell me, my blooooood: has Anor Londo yet fallen?"
Priscilla swallowed.
"It yet doth stand, Father."
"Isee. Thhhhhhen 'twas those humans that freed you. Amusing, amusing. But I douuuuubt you came here to entertain my curiosity. You are hhhhhhere for the Prophecy, are you not?"
"We are here because of it but not to fulfill it, Father. The Sealer Hanser seeketh knowledge of the true Dark. The Chosen Undead did lead us here, but he departed on another errand."
"Ah. The onnnnnne with the armor from the dissstant East. I see. A shame, a shame. I had sooooo looked forward to our fatal combatttt.
The Lord of Meeeen, though whether he succeeds Gwyn or his own precursor is yet to be seen. I wisssshed to test his might to determine the limits of such a vvvvvessel."
The voice's sigh was like nails on a chalkboard.
"Father," Priscilla said, having gathered her courage.
"Yes, chillllld."
"My dear companions calleth the 'the mad Duke,' and Sir Ornstein long spoke of thy crimes when he had occasion to visit my prison. Why dost thou steal away maidens? Why didst thou craft serpents that walk as men?"
"Flesh of my flesh, yet innocent of innocents, hhhhave you not seen your own reflection? Madness. Is for. The weak. I nnnnnever fell into madness – only – I lessened my own restraint as the gods wwwwwithered.
Some see a glllllimpse of the true Flame and are called 'mad' by the frail. I did not betray my brethren for peeeettiness. I did it for Flame. The gods were closest to it after the Lords, yet they restrained themsssselves as did Gwyn. I should have alllligned myself with the Witch.
I thought her overeager and pledged myself to the strongest, to the most brrrrrrrilliant, but Gwyn was a coward. I may as well have pledged to the Dark. You ssssee, child of mine, I push the boundaries of what we know of Flaaaame. For that, I need fuel – young maidens yet full of humanity. The riiiiper, the better.
Alas, I was, ah, forbiddennnnnnn from Anor Londo for taking certain maidens I should not have. A shame they turned to pisaca like the rest. The mmmanserpents were a convenient accident as a result of my rrrrrresearch into my own kind. Their existence holds no meaning."
"Father, how canst thou be so uncaring?"
"Blood of my blood, apppppppreciate your human friends while you have them. They are fragile in body and in sppppirit. When their bodies are cold and their ssssouls dispersed and consumed by others, ask me again, if you dare. In the time before, nnnnnnnothing had value. It is a gift of Flame.
Know this, youngling: those rarrrrrrre things of true worth are truly immortal. Time tuuuurns upon itself. This play of gods and kings will return, as will I. I have assuuuuured it."
"I see," Priscilla said sadly. "Thou art not repentant in the slightest."
"No. I am not."
"Then the burden of thy crimes doth fall upon myself."
The crossbreed swept forward, bouncing over the uneven ground as she disappeared from sight. A crystal-spewing wound ran up the ancient dragon's chest until it curved sharply at his neck. Priscilla became visible again with her foot at the base of her father's neck. She stomped down as she drew her scythe up and lopped his head off. The neck rained crystal shards on the room as the body collapsed, and the attacker leapt aside.
"Oh, you have spiiiiirit, flesh of my flesh and heart of Flame! And your mother's bllllloodthirst, no less! A finer weapon I could not have wrought her, and yet she abbbbbbandoned you like the impetuous fool she is!"
The body fumbled around blindly until it found its head, mashing the clotting crystals against one another until they ground to a paste of sorts, and the wound sealed.
"Yet. You cannot kill me. It cccccannot be done. Your Llllllifehunt is a perversion of Flame. My immortality is of an ollllllder nature.
But I appreciate the effort. I have nnnnnnever been prouder, my daughter."
"I no longer wish to be such!"
The cicada-laughter returned.
"Such spirit, such spiiiiiiirit! Come, it is not your birthday, but I owe you a great many gifts paaaaast, do I not?"
The monster tore its chest open without hesitation. In its claws, it held a blindingly-brilliant flame. Priscilla felt an instinctive aversion to it as her blood of dragons and the occult retreated twofold.
"Take it, chhhhild, and sate my curiosity. Can a blasphemy become a deity?"
Priscilla approached her father slowly and hesitantly took the soul. It didn't burn as she had feared, but rather held a gentle warmth. She walked away.
"That iiiiiis disappointing. A shame, a shame. Do as you please with it. I no longer have neeeeeeed of it. But do tell the Chosen Undead to ssssstop by when he gets the chance."
Priscilla crossed back through the fog with the horrible shrieking laughter ringing in her ears. She descended the narrow passage exhaustedly and slumped against the rail after starting the elevator. When it stopped, she rested a moment longer while she gathered the energy to continue. At last, she rose and walked to the hidden passage. She had been so distracted by everything else, she had forgotten to ask her father to open it.
It seemed the others had managed it one way or another. She stooped and walked through the human-sized passage to the next chamber. More crystallized hollows came for her, but she swung her scythe dully, deflecting arrows and hewing through bodies absentmindedly. Below, she saw the others milling about, so she stopped and held her face with both hands for a few moments. She took a deep breath and smiled gently before descending to join them.
There was a bonfire on the balcony beyond, which likely accounted for the presence of enemies above. Now that she was closer, she noticed that Hanser was missing, though his companion Arnalt was working on his pike at the bonfire as before. In fact, it seemed as though there were two Siegmeyers instead. The original was making elaborate gestures while the other was hiding in his helmet. Jeremiah caught sight of the crossbreed approaching and waved.
Priscilla walked toward the group as calmly as ever and sat down patiently. Siegmeyer quickly wrapped up his tall tale and threw out his arms invitingly.
"Oho! And here is our last member, the Lady Priscilla, a wondrously powerful demigoddess who joined us in Anor Londo! Ah! But don't try to shake her hand; she has a condition which makes it dangerous for humans to do so! And Priscilla, this is my darling daughter, Sieglinde! Come now, don't be shy, Lin!"
The other Onion Knight's groans echoed in her bulbous helmet. She sighed and removed it, revealing herself to be a young woman in her mid-twenties and far slimmer than the armor let on. Much of her chestnut-colored hair was tied back, but she had to brush away a few stray locks.
"Thank you for putting up with my father," she said exhaustedly, bowing her head slightly.
When she did that, the hair fell down again.
"Oh, Lin, you're a mess. Let me get that for you."
Siegmeyer started to brush the hair back, but his daughter swatted his hand away.
"Father, I am a grown woman. I can do it myself. And I wonder where I could get it from? You haven't shaved in days."
"Oh my," the old knight said, rubbing his stubble. "It slipped my mind completely."
Sieglinde sighed, and Siegmeyer laughed. Priscilla simply clutched the burning soul she held in her sleeve. Jeremiah put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
"Where is Hanser?" she said quietly.
Finally, Arnalt spoke: "e's in one of th' secret rooms. Seemed safe enough. We'll 'ead down t' th' dungeon without 'im."
"I see. Please, allowest me finish this task."
She swallowed.
"This is a wondrous reunion, and I have need to consider some things mine own father said to me. As I can travel unseen, I will be in no great danger."
Siegmeyer's brow furrowed in concern, but Jeremiah made a quick gesture, and he relaxed.
"Of course, of course!" the old knight rumbled. "Take all the time you need!"
"Thank thee," Priscilla said, curtsying as she vanished from sight.
There was a faint tinkling as a single crystal tear struck the marble.