And the next chapter! Thanks for all the new follows, reviews and favorites, guys! And as I reach the milestone of a thousand views (and counting), I thank you all deeply! Couldn't have happened without your help, guys! And sorry about the long, long, long wait, and for johning in those past chapters. My bad… :l

But on another note, as per publication standards…

DISCLAIMER – I don't own Dark Souls, Smash Bros., or Super Mario Galaxy, and their characters. They belong to From Software and Nintendo, respectively.

CHAPTER THE SEVENTH

As the sun finally dipped over the horizon, and the world began to shroud itself in the veil of darkness, the knight sat on the grassy patch of ground next to the newly-lighted Bonfire, surveying it. "So far," he thought to the Knightess, "everything seems in place. The Bottomless Box, the Repairbox and the Smithboxes, they all work the same, yes. Do you hear me, Knightess?"

A good development, this is! , replied the joyous knightess, and now I get to do what I love again, even after death! My sincerest thanks to thee, friend! And now, once more, it is our time. We can now talk, as comrades do.

The knight smiled, somewhat relieved the good mood had returned. He'd learned to love he times when his sword wasn't boiling in anger and screaming at him, or green in envy and sulking. Anyways, as he got out a rag and began wiping the Estoc clean from the blood of the Sentinel, he'd thought of one tiny detail which had always made him curious about the Knightess... and all the people he'd met, anyways.

"Well, knightess, are your memories intact?"

They are. Well, most of them are, except for the time of birth – it's just a fuzzy mess of scenes, that. Why that question?

"How does a family feel like?"

Ah, yes, a family. The first people you'd ever meet, the people who brought you up, and the people to provide for you. The knightess recounted quite wistfully. But whatever defined a family was too… short, for a knightess like me. I was taken up as a page when I was five years of age. But those years spent with my family… they weren't as sweet as you'd think.

I was born to a middle-class family in Carim. My mother was the ever-loving housewife, never went out of the house often. My father was a noble, and he served the great earl Arstor, the Impaler. She snorted derisively. Call him what you'd like, his rule was most prosperous, and as for that sobriquet… that he'd earned in battle.

The knight chuckled, somewhat pleased at this fact. "So we are both knights of Carim, ready to bring glory to our defamed nation, eh? Well, continue."

Indeed. Anyways, to continue, I had two siblings, both of which were elder than I. Brother Thomas was nineteen when I was born, and my sister Fina – of course, the love goddess! Always ready to have someone named after her. She chuckled succinctly. Anyways, she was still seven years of age when I came into life. We lived in a well-to-do house – none of your low-down huts, but not good enough to be a manor either. We had enough income yes, but it wasn't enough for our family to be luxurious. We were middle-class, after all.

"I see… and your name is?"

None of your business. The sword retorted, and the knight could feel a smugness about her hilt. It's going to be my secret, ok?

"Fair deal," the knight returned, quite disappointed, "continue. Your life's really interesting."

As is yours, since it's shot full of holes. Anyways…

My brother was a squire, but he came home to see us often. My sister – well, she just went around and do as she pleased, anyways, there weren't any schools yet at that time, and she was brought up to be a lady of the house, much like mother... My mother, of course, stayed at home, looked after us and pampered us, I dare say. My father… he didn't really come home often. He was usually busy with his work, mother said. Everything was all right for the first four years of my life. Mother fed me, weaned me. My sister, more than often, teased me. Brother would come home every once in a while, and we eagerly awaited his stories of his life at camp – a different world from what we knew. We took delight in his descriptions of the training, his friends, superiors, and all the cool stuff which came with knighthood. Father usually came home about… what, a month apart? Well, to make up for his absences, he brought us toys and other stuff we girls liked to play with. There was always enough in our family, and we hardly argued over anything except that last piece of meat in the stock pot.

Then it happened. The crisis which not only rent the world, but tore me away from my family. Although some parts are fuzzy, I'll try to tell you what I can.

Well, the day before that, it was my fifth birthday. We just celebrated by having one huge, sumptuous meal. Mother gave me a new set of clothes she had knitted. Fina – well, she gave me one huge hug, and a doll they had bought. Brother was on his last year of squirehood, he couldn't visit. Father had come home and brought along with him some good news for us all – the other nobles had recognized his service, and had come to give him a reward, which was to give him a higher pay. Our neighbors brought gifts – still clothes, although there was the occasional toy. That day… was the last delightful day I had with my family.

"Good grief. What happened next?"

Then the curse of the undead struck. My sister alone in my family was branded, and that hurt the most. She was taken away, you might know, to an Undead Asylum, to rot there while she hollowed. She shuddered. She couldn't stop crying as they tore her away from mother's arms. Neither could we, anyways. The knightess stopped for a moment, and sighed sadly. Our brother was sent to Astora, then Catarina – as an unhollowed knight he'd have to do some reconnaissance into the other lands. Since then I've never heard of him. From then on, father stayed in the palace working hard with the other nobles, never to see us again. Some servant would deliver his income and his overall state in there. Only I and mother remained in the house from then on, living on. The knightess sighed deeply. I miss them all, and now they're all dead.

"Oh, poor you… So you aren't undead, huh… And what does that have to do with getting you torn away from your family and stuff? Or what was left of it, anyway?"

Getting there.

"Oh, I see." The knight replied quite sheepishly. "Sorry, do continue."

Ok. Common courtesy is never to interrupt the speaker. But anyways, I'll break off for now. Your lady's coming, and she seems to want a word with you. A burst of warmth coursed through the blade. And about her… you two seem to be getting on amazingly well. Strange, indeed, for people who've just met each other… Anyways, you have my full support from now, sir Knight!

"I'll see to it I won't lose your support, dear knightess."

Quit calling me dear though, she replied, chagrined. It feels strange to be called that by someone still quite on the way to earn my full trust.

"Oh, sorry. Anyways, here she is…"

He turned and looked up to see Lady Rosalina clean, freshly scrubbed and in a new white dress... which was pretty immaculate. Emphasis on pretty. With her little starchild in tow.

A while back, Rosalina had been in another hissy fit as checked the Kitchen. So far, it was the most intact structure out of all, but what really worried her was the food supply. Hmm… maybe the knight's diabetic… or he's plain picky… or maybe he won't eat Star Bits… She'd been inspecting the stores of food that they had in the Kitchen, and found out she actually still had a medium bag of flour and six eggs, tucked away neatly in the utensils holder, of all places. "I think I know who did that!" said Oliver, after spotting those things. "Rick did that a week ago, saying he wanted to keep those things for April's Fool's." She sighed, and said, "I sure miss that old troublemaker… but never mind that. Well, we're going to make nothing but bread for the entire week, Oliver. That fine by you?"

"Of course, Mama! But I do miss lasagna…" replied Oliver, with a twinge of nostalgia. "Sorry, but we can't make lasagna yet…" she replied with equal disappointment. "But we'll get that when we get back to the mansion. Don't fret, ok, Oliver?" "Ok!"

She quickly grabbed an apron, put it on, and began preparing utensils for making bread. Ah, cooking… this thing I like. Relaxes, soothes, and brings out your stress, she thought. Then she looked at her child, who was watching her somewhat boredly. Maybe I shouldn't keep all these benefits to myself.

In short order, she was sifting the dough and beating the eggs. Then from the newly-installed (but, sadly, near-empty) refrigerator she got some packaged sugar and yeast. The yeast she activated, and fed with the sugar. After five stolid minutes of waiting, Rosalina poured the yeast into the flour - then suddenly picked up her child and gave him the bowl and the whisk. "You stir!" she said, beaming at Oliver, who was now equal parts surprised and amazed. Recovering from his shock, he obeyed without a word, and quite enthusiastically too… yet much too excitedly, she feared.

At the end of it, spots of the floor had mounds of flour and drops of liquid splashed on them… but Mama merely beamed and continue teaching her lesson. "See here, Oliver, you're supposed to be quite slow in stirring. If you go all fast like Sonic… that's what happens. Although Sonic can do it just fine, which is strange… huh."

Oliver merely nodded, now focused at this task Mama had given him. After four minutes' worth of careful stirring, the mixture in the bowl was now a proper dough. "This fine, Mama?"

"Yes, Oliver, very good!" She beamed radiantly. "Now, let's knead the dough." She picked up the dough and placed it on a spot on the counter with flour all over, and began working it. After a minute of steady kneading, she let the little Luma take over. That he did so with gusto… but with his short, stubby limbs all he could do for now was punch away at the dough.

After six minutes of kneading, Rosalina gathered up the dough and placed it in a bowl, then covered it with a towel. "Ok, everything's set! Let's check the Beacon next." She said quite cheerily, walking out with Oliver in tow.

The Beacon in question was quite intact, save for the invisible containment case, and the ball of energy within. She sighed, and humming quite soothingly, she took the Grand Star which had formed from poor Polari, and let the ball of fire consume it, returning it into its normal turquoise hue. She thought of all the sacrifices made by all the Lumas… amounting all this. Finally, after fixing the Beacon's walls, she then decided it was time for a bit of rest.

She looked over at her child as he followed her around happily while they made their way to the Bedroom, noticing how much he'd grown in the past few days. He'd become so much more… able to control matters of great importance. In a single day, anomalies had risen, they'd been attacked, the rest of the Lumas had deserted, and now they were stranded… but still, they had persevered. She could see his level-headedness all throughout this entire ordeal… and realized with a jolt how much she needed to be connected to the Lumas. Not only do they need me… they also keep me alive and sane. And for a time I didn't know... and now only one remains. She sighed, morose. And five more are stuck in an abyss, stubborn and wanting to be independent. Ah well. We'll get to them, sooner or later…

Quickly noticing his mother's change of mood, Oliver floated up to her shoulder. "What's wrong, Mama?"

"Nothing, Oliver. I was just thinking about you, the others, all the Lumas… especially Zachary's band in that abyss." Her voice trailed off. "What if-"

"D'aww, that's nothing to be sad about, Mama! And about those guys… it's their punishment, right? They left us! They don't care at all! They deserve it, Mama, they do! It's our revenge!" he retorted with an edge to his voice.

She put on a lopsided smile. Maybe he did have a few more points to develop... but he was still a child, after all. "No, Oliver, that's a bad kind of thinking, saying they deserve it. I mean, they do, but not all of it, ok?" She bent down and scooped him up in a hug, making him squeal happily. "Now stay here, outside… I'm going to change my clothes, ok? And don't dare look." She said, putting much emphasis on the last statement.

"Yes, Mama!" replied Oliver, his mood unfazed. Mama could be this… modest when it came to changing clothes, but he really didn't mind. It wasn't really his business to care about his mother's clothing, so long as she remained the prettiest mother she could ever be.

She then stepped inside, drew up the pre-placed curtain of privacy near the entryway, and began to strip down to her underclothes quite gingerly. She examined herself with disdain for all the cuts, the blood, the dirt and the grime which lay over her skin in a layer. Ugh. Never have I felt so filthy in my life.

She then began gently swabbing her dirty, bloody face with wet wipes, humming as she began cleaning all the spots caked with blood and dirt. A few minute scratches stung (no thanks to the antiseptic) but she bore the pain well, and let loose a burst of stardust, healing her. Quite a scary thought, the loss of power making me vulnerable.

Afterwards she quickly cleaned up her arm, which was all grimy from wiping her nosebleeds, wounds and sweat with it. Then she began checking her body for any bruises, wounds and things which might make her quite uncomfortable with their presence, wiping it all the way. Ahh, refreshing… but I'll just take a bath tomorrow instead of tonight… I feel knackered.

With all that done, she finally picked a suitable dress – the white one she usually wore on special occasions, like every time good ol' Peach threw a party in Smash Mansion. She put it on, admiring the thing's softness and good smell. This one had just recently came back from the washroom. Mhmm, Captain Falcon was stuck on cleaner duty before I left. She giggled at the thought. I have a feeling the washroom's not going to be as intact as it was after his shift.

Now, with herself clean and tidy, and with clean clothes to boot, she pulled the curtain back and stepped out of the dome to an approving child. "How do I look, Oliver?"

"You look better than you did!" he squealed. "With all the blood on you, that is…"

"Thank you!" She beamed and took Oliver's stubby hand. "Now, let's see sir Stranger and see if he wants to eat with us. Ok, let's go, Oliver!"

They'd floated to his strange bonfire and saw him squatting quite uncomfortably near it's burning cinders… but she did notice him feeling all comfy and not burning up, so she decided not to point that out. Just then he turned around and regarded her from under his armor for a long time. After quite an awkward silence, she stooped down to his level, peering into the slits on his helmet. She was curious as to how he looked under that armor. Hmm… might he be… handsome, perhaps? Or ugly? The people at the mansion might not like him when he takes his helmet off… but never mind that, for now. Let's do what we've came to do. "Good evening, sir Stranger! And how are you faring?"

He cleared his throat and replied, somewhat uncomfortably. "G-good evening a-as well, l-lady Rosalina! And I-I-uh, well, let's just say I'm quite well, and relaxed, and t-totally sane. Yes, I'm sane and I talk to my sword. Ironic, no? M-Maybe I won't strike you as a lunatic or a H-H-Hollow, but still, what I do is fit for an eccentric– "

Rosalina beamed, glad she could relate to the knight, in a way. "It's fine, so long as the sword talks back to you. I know that feeling. Only I can understand my children so far, and that's led to some… complications. Just like yours. So, no need to feel uncomfortable around me on that, ok? Because I'm as strange as you are!" As she peered into the knight's helmet, she beheld a pair of gray eyes which barely contained the volatile, conflicting emotions within them. The rest of his face was hidden by his helmet… but his eyes were the windows to his soul, as they said. But all she could see was a dark soul plagued with years of strife, regret and death. Hmm… one very strange anomaly this is. But I can manage. I'll do what I can to ease his pain. But for now, let's do what we came to do… "So, would you like to eat with us, sir Stranger?"

"Uhh… it's quite hard to explain, b-but I don't go hungry nowadays. Ever since I went undead, my body never r-really feels that hungry unless I'm dying, which is when I take a swig of my Estus Flask here. And that's it. But… I do miss the luxury and the good tastes of fine dining, and eating in general." His nervousness was evident now… but he was lucky he was wearing enough armor to mask it.

"I see… Forgive me, but I've no ingredients for fine dining. All I can make for now if a loaf of bread. If it's fine with you…" she said, now quite embarrassed at her menu. The knight saw the blush in her exposed cheek, and quickly excused himself. "A loaf of bread… well, that might only be enough for you and your child, milady… I'll just refuse for now, but thanks for the offer."

"Well… I'll see what I can do about next time, sir!" Then another thought struck her. "And what about sleep, sir? Do you still sleep?"

"Uh, yes, milady, but don't worry about my accommodations. I sleep next to this bonfire. I assume I am to accompany you?"

"Hm… how did you know?" she asked, a bit startled.

"Well, there were those stars you mentioned."

"Ah, I see. Well, I'll give you a lot more things to do when we find the Power Stars, so we'll be staying with each other for quite a long while. Is that all right with you, sir?"

"Of course, milady." The knight replied, beaming under his armor.

"Good to know. Glad we talked, sir Stranger!" she repined, relieved. She stood up and was about to leave when the knight suddenly stopped her in her tracks.

"Uh, not to be rude, but why are you calling me sir Stranger, out of everything you can come up with? It's intriguing, yes, but it's getting… obnoxious, I might say."

This sudden question was found very amusing by Rosalina, and somewhat embarrassing on poor Oliver. Ultimately, she couldn't hold it in and started laughing so hard until the tears started rolling her cheeks. Oliver, meanwhile, just stood aside with a meek, yet somewhat annoyed look on his face, which melted into a sheepish grin, until he joined in laughing… or chirping, for that matter. The knight, surprised, sat about and looked at the scene bewilderedly. "She's right, Knightess, she is strange too!" he thought somewhat frantically.

Ah, well. Guess we've found a match made in heaven between two eccentrics, hmm? the sword teased.

"Am not eccentric, knightess!"

You are! Don't prattle about you not being eccentric, Sir Talking-To-His-Sword!

"Guess you have a point there." The knight replied, now feeling quite sold.

After the laughing had died down to softer chuckles, and then silence, Rosalina finally managed to speak again. "Sorry, about that, sir, that's just what my child calls you. I guess I decided to follow suit."

"Ah. I see," He replied, chuckling heartily, "and tell the child of yours I'll think about it, ok? It might take a little getting used to…" he finished quite awkwardly. "But I'll manage. Good night, lady Rosa - oof!"

Oliver had struck again, bounding into the poor unsuspecting knight, this time actually toppling them both over into the Bonfire's flames, much to Rosalina's shock… but the tongues of fire didn't burn either of them, anyways. As the little Luma basked in the strange yellow tongues of flame, the knight slowly got up and dusted himself off. Rosalina drew near and held out her hand to the Bonfire. It came out unharmed.

"That's Estus, milady," said the knight from behind her. "It's the part of the First Flame which split up and linked each and every Bonfire in this world. Also, it provides health and warmth to us, and it's innate power allows us to grow in power as well."

"Ah, I see. Good to know it won't harm my child. Well, we'll be off for now, all right? See you tomorrow then, sir Stranger!" she finished, both of them chuckling succinctly. She then picked up Oliver, and waving, headed back to the Kitchen to continue baking their loaf of bread.

"Well, Oliver, no need to barrel into Stranger like that, ok?" she fussed, as she began shaping the bread. "If it had been a real bonfire, both of you might have been hurt."

"Ok, Mama… I'm sorry… But can I still hug him?" he returned.

"Of course, Oliver. Of course. Oh, I almost forgot…" she continued as she finished shaping the bread and set it on the counter to let it rise for a bit. She then bent down to the Luma's level, and patted him softly. "Sorry about laughing back there, ok? It was quite… funny, you know, nicknaming him Stranger… and adorable, too… I can't help but be happy too… which I usually express by laughing, ok?"

"Oh, that… it's ok, mama, it's ok. Just don't rub it in…" he replied, leaping into his mother's arms. "One question, Mama."

"What is it?"

"Mama, why can't you make food out of thin air? Like you did with Stranger's tongue?"

"Oh, that." Her face fell dramatically, making Oliver worried. "I tried that too, back before I found you. Only then… the results weren't so good. See here, food has a lot of complications, much like a tongue, or an object, but these complications… when you eat them, they might poison you, make you really sick, or drive you insane, or do something worse, and the list goes on and on and on. Unlike an object or a tongue or a daisy. They aren't meant to be consumed, that's why. And when I fed it to myself and your kin, the Lumas… all of us became terribly sick. Thankfully, no-one died. So nowadays, I just cook like everyone else." She sighed regretfully. "And those five Lumas who fled… well, all of them except little Scotty were included in that incident." Looks like she had another reason to add to the "Reasons as to Why the Remaining Lumas Rebelled" list.

"Oh… sorry I asked, mama…" he returned remorsefully, cuddling into his mother's thin, yet strong body. Rosalina, now quite stone-face, still managed to return the embrace eagerly. "Well, Mama, what can we do now?" her child asked, as they quietly pulled apart, ready to resume work.

"Well," she started, picking up the tray and placing it in the oven, "while we bake this bread, there's nothing to do." She pulled up a stool and and sat on it, gesturing for the little Luma to come sit with her. "And we can talk as well. Or you can sleep. Anything, as long as we don't go out of this place. We have to watch over the bread, ok?" she continued, setting her trusty oven timer to twenty minutes. She then sat on the stool, Oliver in her arms, and began the wait. Slowly, slowly, the tired little Luma's eyes began to close, and within minutes he was dozing off.

As the night grew darker, the moon shone down upon Anor Londo, casting it's eerie glow over the city of the gods and draping it in a veil of beauty unique to it. This was a pleasing sight to the knight and the sword, the former - once more - sitting peacefully beside his Bonfire, and the latter unsheathed, and cradled in the knight's arms. Now, as they were in their privacy once more (or so it seemed), they began talking again.

"Well, that encounter was dangerous, mesmerizing, and refreshing all the same. Don't you think so, knightess?"

Mhmm... but why dangerous? the sword asked.

"Well, it's just – well, she doesn't really trust me that much yet, as does her child… but she DOES trust me. Let's say every time I talk, I have a chance to make or break this trust, eh?"

Wow. You're plodding along relationships and friendships at a veritable rate. The knightess replied approvingly. And speaking of which, there's one tiny issue I forgot to mention.

"What is it, knightess?"

Eh… you're going to let my body and my bonfire be carried away by some lady?! I mean, yes, you'll stay with her, but when her business is done, she's obviously going to leave!

The knight pondered on this for a few moments. "Not really, since there's a chance we'll be going with her."

How do you know for sure she'd take us with her? the knightess shot back.

"Well, since our belongings are now here, and she's made no complaint, then I can assume there's a big chance she might take us with her. Speaking of which… how'd you know she'd leave for sure?"

Good points… and I knew she was bound to leave since she's looking for fuel for her strange structure, which might also double as some sort of vehicle as well -

"Well, it's already that bizarre but a vehicle as well… that I find hard to believe." He snorted derisively. "Call me skeptical, but I have standards, like any other man, ok? And to me, that thing does not look like it can go very far… if it could, anyways."

Well, how'd you think it got here, hmm? the sword retaliated.

"You have a point… but still, though." The knight replied begrudgingly. "I'm not going to believe unless I see it, eh?"

Ok then, I won't impose! Wait, where was I…? Oh yeah. I'll continue my story, now since we're free of disturbance.

"She's not a disturbance – "the knight started.

In a way, she can be. Anyone and anything can be a disturbance, provided they come up at the wrong time. So, let me have a few moments' worth of recollection, then we'll continue, ok?

"Ok, knightess, ok." The knight felt a bit sheepish at this point. "Um, why are you so much better at life than – "

He immediately received an outburst. Hush! Don't disturb me! And after a few moments more, he felt the familiar sarcasm course through the blade. Told you everyone could be a nuisance at some point... the knightess reproached gently.

"Ok. Sorry about that. Point taken…" the knight replied with as much snide in his voice, then looked toward the long, slender blade… and was surprised to see a face staring back at him.

It was only part of a face per se (due to how thin an Estoc can be), but still, it was quite a sight to behold – a pair of hazel eyes on a fair, pert little face crowned with jet-black hair, neatly done up in a ponytail. She was in deep thought, making all the more pretty… and unable to notice him, as well.

After a long period of staring, the knight decided to break the silence. "Um, a few words, knightess?"

I said don't talk! And only then did she break her concentration to see the knight staring quite directly at her. Wait, can you actually see me right now?

"Uhh, yeah. And I don't see a Firekeeper Soul, I see a really pretty young lady."

This made the Knightess blush deeply. Damn, sir. If only I'd be alive and well… we'd had made a fine pair, eh? If it weren't for that blue murderer… She sighed wistfully. Oh, all the things we could do -

"And all the times you'd prick me with that Estoc for invading someone else, ehehehehe!" They chuckled heartily at that thought for a minute, but as the mirth died down… a thought struck the knight, his expression turning to one of angry resolve. "Ok. I've an idea, knightess. We're going with Lady Rosalina not only due to her" - which made the Knightess giggle (and seeing how funny she looked, he followed suit) - "but because I'm going to avenge you. And use you to stab the blue murderer."

Ok. Brilliant idea! The Knightess smiled warmly at him, causing him to blush in turn. Yes, she could be adorable at times. Now we have a proper reason to tag along with your Lady Love, and I'll continue telling you the tale of my life. Now, I'll think some more… be quiet, all right?

"All right."

Oliver awoke, startled, to the noisy alarm of the oven timer. He looked around blithely, blinking the sleep out of his little eyes. "Is it morning yet, mama?"

Rosalina smiled, amused. Looks like twenty minutes was quite long, for a Luma. "No, my child, it's still today, and now our bread's done. I've already cut it up. Would you like yours with chocolate, jam or butter?"

"I'll have the chocolate, mama!" the child squealed happily.

"As you wish, Oliver!" she replied, curtsying. She quickly got out the prized jar of Nutella, which was now half-full, and a spreader from the cupboard. In short order she'd fashioned themselves two sandwiches. Oliver dug into his heartily, while Rosalina ate more slowly, careful not to get any stains on her person. Then, as an afterthought, she pulled out some Star Bits, to serve as "dessert". If their meal was even proper, anyways.

After eating, the two quickly cleaned up, with only the bowl and the utensils to wash. These they left in the Fountain, now repaired. Then, as both of them were now quite tired after the day's tribulations, they decided to hit the sack. But there was one teeny problem.

"Mama… we usually have to sleep in the Library, right? Right after a bedtime story…" cooed Oliver. "But I don't wanna sleep alone… I'm scared…"

"Oh, I see… well, I'll let you sleep in the Bedroom." Seeing the child's expression of shock turning into one of pure delight, she continued. "That's what you get, my child, for remaining with me… so long as you're going to be a good child, ok? But the only problem with that is no bedtime story for you - "

"Yaaaay! Thank you mama! Thank you! Thank you so much! I love this day!" shrilled the joyous little Luma, interrupting her... and yet she merely smiled. Lumas could be overly enthusiastic at times, and she'd learned to bear with it. "Well, no bedtime story… that's ok by me! As long as you're with me!" The ensuing, near-earsplitting squeals arrested the attention of the Knight for a few moments, and he decided to wave, and scream "Good Night!" at the duo. They returned the gesture happily.

Soon afterwards, they finally entered the Bedroom, tired, dirty (only slightly, in Rosalina's case) and in good spirits. Rosalina dimmed the lights, put little Oliver on a huge soft cushion on her bed (to his utmost happiness), and finally climbed in herself. They closed their eyes, quite famished, and drifted into the world of dreams.

Which wasn't quite a good place…

Finally, a few minutes after both of them had bid good night to the stellar lady, the knightess broke out of her trance. Ok. Ok. Now I remember most of the daft bits, and I can tell little ol' you a bedtime story, much like Lady Rosalina probably is doing so as well to her child.

"Go ahead; I'll try not to interrupt unless I'm curious, ok?"

Deal. So, to continue…

Now my family was split apart. Countries were in chaos, and in general fear of the curse of the Undead. But then the ray of hope started to shine in in Astora, and by then the Fate of the Undead prophecy was spread.

But hope? Nah. Not too much of it in Carim. Earl Arstor had been out of the country, leading his expedition to Lordran in hopes of ending the curse for our country. And sadly, he perished along with those brave soldiers at Ash Lake. They were beaten down by the Hydra, and the survivors were finished off by it's other inhabitants. The new leader was corrupt and incompetent, and it showed. Towns suffered, crime rose, and generally, Carim took the reputation that we can associate it with nowadays.

And as for us back home? Well, quite left alone, I say… until one certain covenant rose in power.

One sunny day three months after the last happy day in my life, I was out on errand from my mother to get some water from the village well, which was in the square, which in turn was quite far from my humble abode. To make matters worse, the bucket was half my size… but I'd been carrying stuff heavier than a bucket of water. I can do this! I thought, as I received the thing from mother. How hard can it be?

Well, I did try. Emphasis on tried. When I had reached the well, I was panting in pure exhaustion. After one of the more grateful bystanders filled up the thing, with a superhuman effort I lifted it off the ground and made my way back home. Progress was very slow, but I managed to go a meter at a time without spilling half the bucket's contents. Pretty soon, my house was in sight and I hadn't collapsed yet.

Then, it happened. The village alarm went wild, the gates closed, the men at the ready. An invasion! But by who? As I stood stock still with fright in the middle of the road, Mom came out of the house, eyes wild with fear, and she told me to just forget about the bucket, take her hand and run to the house. Which I did. Then, as I took a glance at the village wall… I saw a warrior donning black, with a skull on his face stabbing a guard with a broad blade.

Mom quickly bolted down the doors and the windows, cloistered ourselves in the bedroom, and began to pray feverishly. That did nothing to calm me down as the trauma from seeing the enemy at work set in… although it faded away a bit later. The sounds of battle began ensuing outside, terrible sounds of swords clashing and men dying and fire crackling – fire! What if this house got caught in the blaze? I asked mother very worriedly. She told me that she had a plan, but that all we could do was pray for now.

The whole fight – which, for the larger part of it, was mostly heard - was all too quick, which frightened us all the more. Bandit attacks usually lasted for a scant fifteen minutes… and yet it was about just the sixth when the last man was felled, and a sudden, pervading silence ensued in the village. For moments, we dared not even breathe as a sudden, insidious presence came and a pervading Dark began to spread, greedily eating the light. We didn't know it then… but it was a Darkwraith invasion. Another attempt to spread the dark of the Abyss.

"Wait… you mean there are Darkwraiths out in the land of Carim as well?" an astounded knight asked.

You may not see them… but they exist everywhere, just hidden quite infallibly. It's unfair, really…

"What so unfair? We have the Way of White and the Warriors of Sunlight out there – "

But there aren't any Blades of the Darkmoon. Hey, do those covenants you mentioned respond to Darkwraiths actively? She shot back.

"You have a point. Continue!"

Ok. So suddenly we hear the door being beaten down. We're in the innermost room, the master's bedroom. We don't have any servants in our house. Then, Mom suddenly starts barricading the room (which was a pretty normal response) and then motioned for me to come hide under the bed (which was not). I didn't know what it was for… but then she suddenly crawled into a hidden space behind the bed in the wall. I followed, and suddenly we were dropping into the deep earth.

For moments we lay still as the hidden elevator dropped on… then it slowed down, and stopped. Suddenly, we were in a hidden grotto full of weapons, water, and food like biscuits which lasted long, and torches which we promptly lit. Mother, now quite satisfied, explained that this was Father's secret "panic room" which he commissioned, in cases of emergency like this. She then bade me stay in a corner behind a chest and gave me a parrying dagger to defend myself with while she hid herself in a set of armor.

A very long eternity passed… the torches now flickering… then finally we thought it was safe to come back upstairs… but Mother wouldn't let me. She said there might still be enemies out there. She said she wanted me to live. She said she'd rather die first than let me be harmed. So she came up the lift alone… and she never came back. But that wasn't the last I'd see of her. She sighed. She didn't think about me having the same mindset as her. Which hurt me a lot.

"Question. How'd you survive deep underground?"

There were pipes supplying air from the surface, and there was enough food and water for two weeks, although the latter two were in poor quality. Anyways, to continue…

I loitered around there, now hopeless, until finally, five days later, the elevator came down again… and brought with it a Darkwraith. I began to cry, letting him think I was far too scared to fight back, far too terrified to protest when he suddenly grabbed my puny little throat and used his vile Dark Hand.

Or so it seemed.

Suddenly, I struck out at his neck with the Parrying Dagger Mom gave me. I'd had enough with all the pain; I guessed that if I'd hurt him he'd take me down quicker. I was wrong… I'd actually managed to catch the guy on his windpipe, and as I stared at what I'd done he stumbled backwards, and into the lift. He fell onto the lift's switch, activating it with half of his body in, and half out. I immediately turned around, not willing to hear or see what happened, and went back to my corner in shock. I just killed my enemy.

Finally, a long time later (a long time either meant twenty-five minutes or a whole day, tops) the elevator came back down… with another Darkwraith. This time, I was pretty much unseen in my corner… and as he reached the other end of the room, drawn by the treasure there, I was running to the elevator. When he had turned, I was heading upward.

When I had arrived at the bedroom, it was in shambles; most of the furniture had been hacked to pieces, and the clothes strewn about. But what was surprising was the Knight in the middle of the room. Basically, he wore Brass Armor, but since he had no ponytail his helmet was less adorned. He was clutching a Darkmoon talisman, and as I entered, he fell back in surprise.

But I paid no heed, and went straight to my mother, who was lying in the doorway, covered in blood. I came over, in shock, and began to clutch her cold, stiff body. Now, mother was dead, father was far away, and I had to fend for myself. But I didn't weep. Suddenly, and all-encompassing rage filled me. I then started screaming and flailing. She shuddered. I broke then and there. I couldn't take it. Then suddenly… the knight whacks me, and that's when things get fuzzy, all of a sudden… then I lost consciousness.

When I awoke, I was in Anor Londo. The knight was tending to me, and we were beside Master Gwyndolin's fog wall. He began to explain himself, saying he was a Blade of the Darkmoon, that he had saved me, that he was very sorry to not have saved the rest of the town. That was their fault, he said, because there were so few of them. Now, though, he had sensed a strange power coming from me, and asked me if I would become one of them.

Right then and there, I found my calling. The Darkwraiths had taken everything from me but my life and my dagger. Now I would pay them back. And – she finished with a flourish – my story ends here.

"I see. Tough times, indeed, eh?" the knight replied, now feeling a bit sad for all the poor knightess had gone through… and quite proud to see her fine, after all that.

Indeed. A burst of sadness jutted out from the blade, and the knightess' face fell. But that's the past, anyways. I've already done a lot of them in. Hmm, what time is it?

"Time for both of us to see a clock, knightess." The knight replied jokingly.

I thought it'd be something along the lines of "time to hit the sack". She retorted, dripping with sarcasm. But anyways... time to sleep. It's getting on to deep night in here, ok?

"Ok, mom!" he replied, voice also dripping with sarcasm.

Quit calling me that! was the parting shot, as the knight stretched out on the ground, and quickly began to doze off. The knightess also grew weary, but could not sleep, and thus decided to just shut her sword's eyes and think.

Then a bloodcurdling scream from the Bedroom jolted them wide awake.

And that's it for now! Stay tuned, and as always, rate and review!

\[T]/