Hello.

Anor Londo - Where the royalty of Lords reside

A large life form, twice the size of a human and infintely stronger looked over to the sun as it started to set for the night. The rays of the bright sun turned a soothing orange, a welcome sight to all who know it's strength.

This person was part of the royalty of Lordran, particularly, the line of the First Lord.

As the heir of Lightning, he could command the golden streaks as his own. Some even believe that he had the ability to defeat his father. He stood over a white balcony overlooking the lower levels of the city his father had built, as the sun starts to set for the day.

Brown hair rustled with the wind. On his head, he wore a crown similar to that of his father, with it's golden spikes pointed skyward. From this height, even the giant sentinels seemed small. He could see large groups of people striking a metal pole with supervision. There was promise in those who look to go along the path of knighthood, of direct service to the line of the First Lord.

But while that was all well and good, there was something specific that the firstborn was looking for. A kind of marking that was more prevalent during the war with the Everlasting Dragons, and occasionally surfaced during the closing years of the Great War between the Three Factions.

Certain conditions had to be met to obtain marking, but once gained, it will likely remain until the owner is at his or her end.

"Lord firstborn." Turning from the sun, the Heir to lightning faced the mask of an enraged lion. This knight had faithfully served his family, and is part of Gwyn's Four Knights.

The dragonslayer, Ornstein.

Though, in more recent times, the title of 'Devilslayer' might be more suitable. For his efforts during the Great War as the vanguard to his Silver Knights, and furthermore, leading the charge into the devil city of Lilith, alongside the Wolf Knight, and his companion.

"Lady Gwynevere requests your audience." The firstborn returned his gaze to the sky, his head went through several thoughts at a time. There was the disappearance a ferocious Archdragon of Lordran, without so much of a sign of it's departure.

One could only guess as to why it has left the land. The firstborn turned to the devilslayer.

"Ornstein. Apologies, but soon I've company with a Daughter of Chaos."

"We must speak of grave matters."

"Yes, Lord Firstborn." The two of them returned to their previous duties. Now that the war has ended, there was no need for conflict to spill out into the other worlds. But with the departure of the one dragon, there comes the possibility for the title of 'Dragonslayer' to come back into effect.

A large door swung shut, and the firstborn was alone with the setting sun.

Returning to Kuoh town - surrounding forest

"Pathetic, do it again."

The weekend rolled by under the cover of sunlight. In the green of a secluded forest, an inhuman practiced an art unbecoming of his race. But he was insisted by another to practice.

"Quelaag. Would it not be better if I were to better the art of Miracles?" Tristan was in a plain black jacket and shorts, which had to be specially made for his larger size. He stopped in his tutelage to look at his family friend, sitting under the shade of a tree, holding a black kitten in her arms.

His elder was pale as a cloud, and held black hair that looked as if it could turn red at any moment. Her choice of clothing was out of date, looking more suited to a wizard of old, with dark vestments covering her torso, stretching towards her legs.

Dark red eyes showed her inheritance of the Life Soul.

"That would be right, but as of right now, you have no goal to work towards. No senior in the art to seek guidance from outside of Lordran, and I know that there exists lightning magic between the three factions, but that is without the strength of Sunlight." He turned his entire body to the woman, now more attent than before.

"Come now, child. It might be challenging, but the rewards are many. I will even assist you in this." She put down the kitten, and walked towards her student of two hours.

"Even without a catalyst, someone with your tenacity should be able to at least manage basic Pyromancy."

Grumbling lowly to herself, she stood closely.

"Now, try to imagine something to focus upon, like with your Miracles." She could feel the focus seep off of him. "Mm...try again."

They were looking at a fully formed lightning spear, buzzing with life. It disippated, and she lightly squeezed his hand, warming it slightly.

"Keep going."

'It might be difficult for the Light Soul to accept this kind of power. Even though...there is nothing else to do in this human town.'

It was true. Even if only a little, she had been in Kuoh town longer than him. Quelaag held no interest in the actions of humans, or with the Three Factions. Becoming a figure of guidance to someone she had seen as a little boy up until recently, was the only tidbit of note since her departure from Lordran.

"Hm, wonderful." Within her student's hands, were the rewards from several hours of perseverance; an orange flame, deeper than what humankind were able to manifest, and brighter than what they could hope to achieve. Well, several hours plus the assistance of the teacher. The fire's warmth was similar to that of a miracle of Gwynevere, only much more diminished, and cast an orange glow onto their faces. She removed her hands, and the flame smoldered into a smidgen of it's old form. It flickered sporadically, struggling to remain alive, and was half the size of a fingernail. "But these markings, have you already found a strong opponent, here, on this kind of mission?"

"Yes. There are devils in this human town, Quelaag." She pursed her lips at that note. This should have just been a simple joint operation to strengthen relations with Heaven and Lordran. "But as of right now, they are of no threat."

Shortly after she dropped his hands, the flame stifled into nothing in order to make space for a miniature sphere made from lightning.

"Keep at it. One day, you will thank me for this lesson." Though the image of him spawning pillars of flame that scretched into the sky were little more than wishful thinking, at least he could be able to manipulate the attributes of fire if the need would arise.

But that was only if he kept up with his studies in this school of magic.

The energy ball in his focus dwindled into it's final sparks, and faded.

"Now, again. I want to see a flame just like this one before darkness falls." The witch extended her arm, and an orb of fire sprouted into life, red an warm. While she knew that a flame exactly mimicing the one in her hand was impossible, the message had been received. "Now, I will return to the shade, and you will continue." Swiping her arm over his, she stifled her assistance.

Leaving him behind, the Chaos Daughter could only hear the sounds of lightning.

Tristan stood beneath the rays of the sun, too focused in the conjuration of fire instead of lightning to reply to his figure of guidance. Even with his most strenuous efforts, the only thing to appear were the streams of yellow. Not a trace of the flame she had helped him form would show.

Many strained thoughts later, and he sought help. Walking across the forest grass, towards the shade where she observed.

"It's based entirely on focus." She said stroking the black fur of the sleeping kitten.

'One of the first walls that students hit is that...'

"That being said, you're thinking unneccessarily hard, try to smoothen your thoughts." Before he could even open his mouth, he inspected his hand. He remained in the sunshine, though his attention was more on the small wolf that slept in the sun close to where he undertook the art of pyromancy. Even if the art wasn't something that one with the Light Soul should be doing, it was still worth attempting.

It still had applications in the shifting world. It's just that his race have relied on the strength of Miracles for so long that it had become standard for knighthood.

"Still nothing, eh?" Within a second, Eria awoke. Disturbed from her guard, she took her place beside Tristan, lightly rumbling. Instantly, he retrieved the longsword from his hip, and held his caster hand to his side. The Chaos Witch stood as well, leaving a frightened, kitten safe. She was paranoid because of Eria's current acting.

If what broke out was fighting, it would be terrible to have her caught within the conflict.

But immediately, his shoulders dropped from the tense form. A sigh left his mouth. He could hear the conversation held behind the few lines of trees. "Well, what do you hear?" It was apparent that the Chaos Witch knew about the extent of his hearing perception.

She had suffered at the hands of her pupil's sister in embarassing ways with that refined hearing of hers. With a family as close as theirs, there was no way that she would not take him along with her 'adventures' within the city's walls.

"Nothing important..." He pressed his face against his caster-hand, annoyance. These humans were troublesome at their learning institutes, but now they we're following him? "We were followed by humans, but these particular ones are more...mm..."

He could hear their spiteful speech.

One of the great chaos witches should not have to suffer these acts.

"Spit it out, my pupil." She wanted to know if there really was conflict to be broken out. It's been a fair time since she entered in a battle, and her flame sorceries were always a beautiful sight. She'd be mindful of the extent.

"These ones are harmless, but they are meddlesome at times such as this. In the name of Gwyn, do not let these lechers near your drape, master Quelaag. A noble witch such as yourself should not have to deal with these kind of things. Please, I loathe the satisfaction they acquire from doing so."

Guess it was kind of her fault for expecting a challenge from a mostly human town. She just hoped they hadn't seen their fireshow or else she'd have to properly deal with whoever these humans are. She counted herself lucky, for learning a special spell that would suit perfectly for situations like these. Straight from the teachings of her beloved sister, Rapport was a flame that allured a target.

"I believe it would be best if we were to ensure our secrecy. Allow me to show you an art of flame." Shortly after replying, the witch touched her head with her fingers, willing a small, pink sphere into existence. It pulsed in the same way a lake would when a stone was tossed through it's waters, and grew in size when she lifted her hand to where her student eyed the bush.

Immediately, their words began to die.

"Oh, I had learned from Quelana, that 'Rapport' was her own flame sorcery. I guess she must have passed it to you." The witch returned his look.

"Right, I forgot you two and Quelana were like that. I felt the souls of two humans, and you were right about them not being of value. Now, continue with the flame arts. This time, I will help you."

Placing his trust in the Chaos Witch, he let her take his caster's hand, and felt something familiar emanate from her grasp. It happened at times when he had killed a beast, or rogue bandits on his long journey.

"Here, child. Be grateful for even a sliver of the Life Soul." She exhaled and smiled peacefully, and an orange glow wisped from where they connected hands.

He was speechless what he had heard, and felt weak all over for the same reason. A piece of one of the four great Lord Souls?

"I-"

Even if he had wanted to disagree, his arms felt like they were acting on their own.

"It felt like so little time has passed, since I held you as a newborn within my arms. And now I stand here, sharing a part of the Life Soul with you."

She stood back from him, and in his caster's hand, was a gentle flame, like one that burns at the tip of a candle.