Chapter 1: The End is the Beginning

Despite the hardship, despite the crushing loss, she had succeeded. Aldrich, the devourer of man and gods, had been defeated. She turned to her fellow Unkindled, standing a few feet away. "I owe this to you. Thank you. Truly."

She took a few steps away and spoke to herself, "Horace, we've done it. We really have…" and oh how it pained her that her friend wasn't with her. They had been through everything, ever since the beginning. They escaped Aldrich together, became Unkindled together, ventured to Lothric, the Undead Settlement, Farron Keep… And then they were separated for the last time in the Catacombs beneath Farron's Keep.

From there she continued alone, despondent, but unwilling to abandon her duty. If she was honest with herself, it was her fellow Unkindled that had truly inspired her. Not only had he helped her, he had pursued his duty entirely alone! He faced all manner of horrors without aid, and went out of her way to help her when he was near. She had learned much from him, and he was probably the reason why she was successful at all.

But now in the present, all that was left was the decrepit room of a once great cathedral, and the headpiece of a god, who, as she had learned, grandfathered what her order was today. It felt cold in her hands, belying its true heritage and its power. She would bury it, she decided. She would bury it near the graves of the children she couldn't save. That would be her last act before she…

For this was the end, the end of everything she was. Her body would remain to wander the world, a volatile husk of who she once was. Her mind, her very soul, would be gone. She could already feel herself slipping, bit by bit.

She turned to her friend. "Thank you again, I wish you luck. I know that your duty is too similar to mine, and you'll need the luck more than I will. This will probably be the last time we see each other. May the flames guide your way."

She knelt atop a small hill approaching the Cathedral of the Deep. It was covered in small gravestones, and Anri read the names one by one, etching them into her memory. It was futile for her to do, but she didn't want to forget them. Her greatest failures, and her greatest penance. Each of their dirty faces smiling at her as she promised how she would return to save them. The horror on her face when she had returned, summarily fleeing with Horace to escape the Devourer. All that was left now was the small doll clutched between her fingers. It was frayed, old, but somehow it had survived her encounters and the rest of time.

She moved a bit more dirt onto the new pile that had been dug and filled. The once brilliant golden crown was now buried alongside the children. She didn't know who it belonged to, what god had worn it. Not anymore at least, she was almost entirely hollow. But maybe, wherever the children were, the god would be with them as well. It was more than she could hope for, it was all that she could hope for.

One last time she looked into the sky, at the sun, or whatever was playing the role of the sun. She felt its rays warming her, and listened to the relative peace of the swamp.

And she let go…

She was… formless…

Nameless…

Timeless…

There were no senses…

Only the cacophony of quiet…

Until…

Unkindled.

A voice… or, words?

Bound by terrible purpose… Released…

What, who, was speaking?

You have earned your rest, but you are yet needed.

I am sorry…

What was it talking about? Who was she? What rest had she earned and why?

A broken vessel; abandoned, when its usefulness expired. The gods of your time were cruel indeed…

She didn't understand! What was the voice talking about!?

All around her, feelings returned. Sound came pouring in. Time resumed, and the sun was overhead. And suddenly she knew pain.

I am sorry, I cannot completely restore you from here, parts will be missing. They will return eventually…

Anri, that was her name. Anri of Astora, a knight errant. Unkindled. But the more she remembered, the more pain she felt. There were missing pieces, things that she couldn't access.

I truly am sorry, you don't deserve this, but you were the most 'complete'

Your soul resonated the brightest.

She could hear birds, branches rustling in the wind. She could feel her armor, its familiar weight.

The Devourer is vanquished, your duty is fulfilled.

She could smell nature, flowers.

However, you cannot fall hollow yet. Where you once failed, you now have another chance. Seek the Rider; young and with terrible purpose.

An image was in her head, but it was blurry, dark hair, a smaller frame. A child? A young man?

Seek the Dragon; colored as the sky or jewels beneath the earth

The image of a dragon, with scales as bright as gemstones, filled her mind.

You will be their Sentinel… May the Flames guide your way.

For the first time in generations she took a breath.

Immediately she fell into a coughing fit, lungs burning from being newly formed, unused.

Every movement brought the sensation of pins and needles, every bone and muscle was sore.

With great effort she sat up and tore her helmet off of her head. Blonde strands of hair fell over her eyes, also burning from the sudden intake of details. Tears pricked at her eyes, her vision was blurry, her head pounded. It was like that for some time, she was getting used to having a body again. That would have to come before rational thinking.

When the discomfort faded she finally began thinking, began feeling. And her first feeling was hatred.

Hatred for whoever brought her back. Was her miserable existence not enough!? She had earned her rest.

Then came despair. Despair that her final rest was robbed, that she was denied freedom from her fate. She yet lingered, to do the bidding of some unknown power. And most likely to hollow again after her usefulness expired. Truly her existence was cursed!

Then… acceptance. All undead, and Unkindled in her case, we're able to accept and rationalize their existence. The Age of Fire was cruel and forlorn. The faster you just accepted your purpose, the less likely you were to hollow when the despair finally claimed you. Wallowing and griping wouldn't get her out of this. If this power that brought her back was anything like the old gods of Fire, then they wouldn't be bothered to even recognize her plight. She didn't believe it's sincerity, it's guilt, for a second.

Wincing as she took another deep breath, Anri of Astora took a look at her surroundings.

She was atop a small hill in a forest, a glade untouched by the world around it. She almost broke down into tears when she looked behind her…

Little gravestones, untouched by time. A single prism stone was at their base. Stabbed into the ground was her ever-reliable sword and crested shield. Next to them, a bottomless box, her bottomless box. A quick investigation yielded that much of what was there before was still there, but there were many items she didn't recognize. For the life of her she couldn't recall the memories.

So the bitter fate she had endured wasn't all gone, the power that brought her back wasn't lying…

Seek the Rider. Seek the Dragon.

Her purpose in this life was revealed to her, unwilling as she was.

You will be their sentinel.

She placed the box on her hip, where it had sat previously. She ran her hand along the length of her sword. The Astoran forged titanite had not been dulled by the passage of time. It was pristine as the day she had hollowed. With little fanfare it found its place at her hip, the familiar weight brought a small amount of comfort to her.

She gazed longingly at the crest of her shield. A place that she would never see again, a place that she would forget, again. It was destroyed, the evil eye of the evil beast that assailed Astora rested on her finger as proof. She slung it onto her back, its weight completing her still-broken person. Her fractured and cracked identity.

The last piece of her puzzle, her helmet, rested in her hand.

There was a choice here, she could choose to defy. Her life could be her own, damn whatever power brought her to this world. Damn the consequences. She didn't deserve this… She didn't owe this power anything. Hadn't it robbed her of her peace?

But at the same time… her covenant beckoned her. She was a part of the Blue Sentinels. A helping hand, protectors to those accosted by malicious entities. Could she stand to simply abandon that? She had been summoned to be a sentinel… Would she abandon her greatest covenant?

Her answer revealed itself as her features disappeared behind the familiar helm of an elite knight of Astora. Its weight and embrace bringing comfort, that at least in this strange new age she had something familiar.

Her head turned east. There was smoke above the trees, by the looks of it, a village maybe? A village aflame. It was old, more gray than black. Whatever fires raged had mostly burnt out. But regardless, she had no knowledge of this new land. No direction, no way to orient herself. No maps. No familiar landscape. No one to tell her where to go. She just had her purpose, her new mission. And the vague direction of 'east.'

She had made do with less, so for now; it was enough.

Hiya!

Been awhile, huh… sickness can do that.

For those of you who know me, welcome! I've stumbled on a bit of a roadblock for my KC/MHA crossover and I've decided to take a step back and breathe. No matter what I did I wrote myself into a circle that I couldn't get out of. It was infuriating and it started affecting my desire to continue the story. So after a small while, after the holidays, I decided that I would back up and really plan out what I should do. So this was born!

I love Dark Souls and I love Inheritance Cycle, and I've noticed a critical lack of Anri in the world of FanFiction. I have an idea of where I want to take this, so for a while I'm going to focus on this until I can get out of that writing circle. I could've just said 'fuck it' and wrote a half-assed few chapters but I didn't want to do that. I don't want to deliver some shitty project and spit in your faces. I haven't abandoned that story. Mariana will get her happy ending.

So again, if you're here for me, thanks! And I hope you enjoy!

For those of you who don't know me, welcome! This is going to be a Dark Souls/Inheritance Cycle crossover with Anri as the main character. I tend to start my stories with short prologues and have longer chapters as time goes on.

Know that I have a love for both series and I'm not going to favor one over the other. I will be faithful to both, and I will blend and clash the two as needed. Magic is going to play big roles here, I really can't wait for the ball to start rolling!

Unfortunately for everybody and myself, I am still ill! I cannot promise a regular or coherent schedule, and I will prioritize my health over everything. If there is going to be a delay or if I am taking a break I will let you know. If there are long periods of time between chapters it does not mean I abandon stories.

Whew… Anyways! I really hope you enjoy this prologue, even if it's just a short entrance to set up the story. I have lots planned, and lots of awesome stuff to come.

Also, I've set up an official twitter account! I probably won't post much, but it'll be another way for me to give you updates on my stories or about how things are coming. Or even just a place to chat about stuff!

You can find it at /abyssal_writer

Anyways, that's all for now.

Happy New Year! See you soon~