The Curse That Binds Us
A Dark Souls II Fanfiction by LookinGoodYamcha

Author's notes: The following is a fanfiction based on From Software's 2014 title, Dark Souls II, inspired heavily by my very first playthrough of the game back when it was still relatively new. Aside from a now-deleted project that I mostly did as an inside joke for some high school buddies, this is my first ever true fanfiction.

More specifically, what you're reading right now is a revised, second edition of the original work, and the first version posted to Archive Of Our Own. While I'm absolutely not one of those guys who hates all their old work, there were a lot of early moments that simply didn't mesh well with what the story became, so I had honestly been planning a revision for quite some time now. Rest assured, all the characters and story beats are still intact here, I merely intend to see how much I've improved since my first foray and flesh the details out a bit more. The first three chapters will be completely rewritten from the ground-up, with the fourth and onward merely having edits and fixes here and there.

From the get-go, I am fully aware that this fic might be a bit... shall we say, divisive, for a couple of reasons. Dark Souls II is by and large considered the black sheep of the series. Though the hatedom has died down in more recent years, I understand that plenty of people who were fans of the first game simply didn't vibe with 2. I'll say this upfront; DS2 is actually my favorite entry into the series, and that's my honest opinion. I am not attempting to be contrarian for the sake of it like some people have accused me of. I just like the game, that's it. If it makes you feel any better, this fic actually aims to address some of the contrivances and problems with the original DS2 story.

Secondly, this fic contains a very generous dose of shounen anime flair. In addition to all that comes with this, I have made the very intentional choice to write the dialogue in a more contemporary and colloquial fashion, rather than the ye olde Medieval speak usually present in the games. The result reads more like, well, an English dubbed anime. If these things break your precious immersion too much, I would highly advise turning back now. I'd rather not be flooded with complaints from people expecting a one-to-one novelization of DS2.

If these things don't bother you too much, then proceed and enjoy. Any feedback at all means a lot to me.

Before we begin, allow me to paint the full picture...

...Actually, if you're not interested in how this fic came to be, you're free to skip this and get straight into the action below. I don't mind.

This fic was... a grand number of things during the various stages of its inception. Work had begun as early as 2014 when DS2 itself was still new. My friend and fellow writer ExpressNumber had suggested I give some sort of backstory to my newly created OC, Knight LoveGame. I had never given much thought into OCs before, so I sort of just winged it. Given how inexperienced I was with the series with 2 being the game that popped my Souls cherry, I started with the basic outline of LG being a sort of bumbling, yet well-meaning hero in the vein of Dirk Daring from Dragon's Lair.

Playing off of this, the original idea leaned further into comedic territory; one huge sendup to the notoriously vocal Souls community, memes and injokes abound. There were going to be fourth wall breaks and all sorts of other nonsense, all of which faded away rather quickly. It felt more like a commentary on the game and the community itself, taking a bit of inspiration from those old Nintendo Power comics that were well before my time. This was also around the time a certain King of Hate had been making the rounds with his infamous DS2 playthrough, his bumbling missteps giving me even more inspiration to go for the comedic angle. After barely squeaking out rough drafts for the first two chapters, the fic went into limbo following a traumatic event in my life.

...and then I got really, really into anime. I was a very active member of Waifu Hell, a weeb group on Facebook, and it was there that I met Rance, known at the time as Peace is the Mission, a fellow writer who inspired me to get back on the horse and write this fic for real. My metamorphosis into weebdom changed the course of this fic forever. The more grounded, live-action feel and western roots disappeared completely, and in their place sprouted a healthy dose of shounen anime tropes. Fight scenes became flashier and more intense, dialog had a punchier feel to it, and the whole thing was more of a pastiche of the genre itself. Though it still contained more lighthearted moments than your average Souls outing, the focus on humor was phased out over time, disappearing completely around the 8th chapter or so.

Now, it stands as my oldest work and some of the most fun I've had writing anything, so it's my pleasure to introduce it all over again. Kick back, pour up an Estus, and enjoy.

Chapter 1
"…the hell kinda name is LoveGame, anyway?"

Perhaps you've seen it... maybe in a meme... er, a dream. Close your eyes and let the visions flood your subconscious... you see it now, don't you? Standing before the decrepit gates of that murky, forgotten land. What was it called again... of course, you knew all along. Drangleic. Flourishing many years under the rule of the King, who dedicated his very existence to putting an end to the cycle of flame, and the curse... a ray of hope for one such as yourself, now branded with the accursed Darksign.

...how unfortunate, then, that the kingdom itself would crumble under that very same curse? You knew what misery awaited, yet you weren't the least bit deterred, weren't you? You were never one to put any stock in an old lord's rumor, anyhow. Heed my words, Bearer of the Curse. When you awake, hold onto these memories with the conviction of steel. Loosen your grip, and your very life will lose meaning. You will lose everything... and most tragic of all...

...you won't even care.

Province of Wes'Sv'Urginiah
Southern Kingdom of Kahndo

The warm, golden vestiges of soothing sunlight filtered through the windows of a plain-looking, stone brick house that rested comfortably in a verdant farm village, atop one of its many rolling hills. The humble province of Wes'Sv'Urginiah had done well for itself over the years, currently under the rule of King Philip of the Saltfort. Primarily an agricultural land, it had largely stayed out of conflicts, and as a result had no need for a proper military. Even though they had never actually been to war, King Philip offered any willing warriors a crash course in training as a knight, even giving payments to those who committed to tempering their wills.

The house in question belonged to one Knight LoveGame. A man who would be unremarkable aside from his very unusual name, of which even he did not know the origin. On this day, however, he'd be thrust into the role of our unlikely hero! You see, for the length of a week, LoveGame's nights had taken a turn for the clairvoyant. Revelations about his fate in the form of vivid, lucid dreams, each more detailed and foreboding than the last! Though he had initially brushed them off as mere dreams, it was only three nights ago that his fate manifested into reality! He would awake to a searing pain on his back, branded with the Darksign spoken of by the Fire Keepers!

Worse yet, a few of his memories would indeed already begin to slip away. To this end, the Knight would - after a bit of reluctance - accept his calling and mark the date on his calendar. He'd spend the evening packing some essentials, everything he could bring to give him a fighting chance against the horrors that lurked beyond those gates. Granted, he had very little – a few handfuls of lifegems to heal his wounds, and some provisions to snack on. With everything in order and his small rowboat prepared at the docks, he had taken to bed early, stowing his fears so that they would not deprive him of his rest; welcoming the inevitable, recurring dream by this point.

Now that the fated day had finally arrived, it didn't take much more than a glaring glint of sun in his eyes to wake him bright and early. Wincing at the sudden bright gleam, the man would push his dark brown comforter to the side with a yawning stretch. Unclothed aside from a plain undergarment, his figure was fairly lean and lanky, modestly muscled thanks to his days training as a knight and working the fields. Pushing his jagged, jet-black bangs out of his almond, hazel eyes, he'd begin to roll himself out of bed, only to have his left leg caught in the comforter and take a spill onto the floor! "Whoah there!" he'd yelp, shaking off what amounted to mild pain compared to what awaited him on this day.

Turning his head to the side as his vision came into focus, a determined smile took over his pained expression as he eyed his calendar, marked for the day of his outset. "Man... the days just flew by, didn't they? I was beginning to think a task with so much weight to it would fill me with nothin' but dread..." he said to himself, springing back onto his feet and putting his hand on a large wooden chest at the foot of his bed, patting the top a few times.

"...but to be honest... now, I'm excited."

Knight LoveGame had likely never been to the country of Volgen, and knew little if anything substantial about the band of mercenaries it employed known as the Falconers. That said, their armor had a reputation far and wide for its low cost relative to its protection. As such, it was the standard armor issued to all Wes'Sv'Urginian knights. King Philip was often on a tight budget for dubious reasons; the set didn't even include a shield of any kind, leaving it to the humble knight to procure one for himself in Drangleic. After washing himself off by his water pump outside, he'd return and dress himself before equipping the armor over his normal clothing. For such a cheap set, it was certainly striking – crimson cloth draped over the solid gray metal, and one glove was larger than the other. True to their names, the Falconers would command their birds of prey from these leather perches, not that this meant anything to our hero.

After doing a few basic stretches and walking around to acclimate himself with the armor's burden, he'd reach under his bed to retrieve the sole weapon in his possession – a humble, sturdy broadsword. Outside of his daily training, the blade had yet to see a glimpse of real combat, much less a drop of blood. LoveGame knew as well as anyone else how quickly that was about to change. After slashing it about in the air a few times, making sure neither he nor it had gotten rusty, he'd sheathe it in its scabbard on his hip, and take inventory of his supplies once more. Most important was his small collection of Lifegems, each one could be crushed to release the life essence of lost, crystallized souls to close his wounds and renew his body. There was little else he packed aside from some purified water and the aforementioned snacks. After all, a journey like this one called for traveling light.

After splashing a palmful of water onto his face to psych himself up, he'd take a deep breath and bid farewell to his warm dwelling. "...welp. It's now or never. I... don't know if I'll ever see this place again, but... on days like these, optimism's all I got." he said with a hopeful smile, shutting and locking the door of polished oak. Cracking his knuckles as he strode off toward the docks, he'd take another deep breath. He'd carefully step onto the wooden watercraft, feeling it rock on the glistening waters beneath him, and take a firm grip to each oar. "Drangleic, here I come!"

Without even so much as a map to follow, he merely rowed in the direction his prophetic dreams had guided him, hoping he had not been lead astray by some malevolent force. It didn't take many strokes of the oars until his sunny village disappeared onto the horizon. With no one to see him off, he simply waved goodbye to the shrinking homes until the undulating, shimmering waters were all that his eyes could see.

The voyage itself was likely only a couple of hours, though it didn't take long for the knight to lose track of time, adrift in his own thoughts as he stroked his dark goatee. LoveGame always toyed with the idea, or more accurately, the fantasy of being a hero of sorts during his daydreams. Every shelf of his bedroom was stacked end to end with historical accounts, undated ancient tomes, and other old lord's tales he enjoyed reading before bed. Though he was seen as naive and a bit of a goof at times, the man was fairly well-read. Now, he felt as though he was living out one of those tales he enjoyed so much in his younger years.

The further out he rowed, the darker the skies got – swirling, gray thunderheads gave way to a stormy deluge that swallowed up the sunlight overhead. Though the waves became rough, not once did the small boat come close to capsizing. On the contrary, the waves seemed to carry him to the very gates he was told of in his dreams; he hardly had to even touch the oars anymore. A sense of safety caressed his consciousness; he knew at least that his journey there would not be stopped short by the inclement weather. At last, the powerful current culminated in a great whirlpool, as though it were draining the seas themselves! Feeling nothing but thrill and anticipation, Knight LoveGame grinned at the spray of saltwater in his face, shut his eyes tight, and let the swirling abyss take him under...

Things Betwixt

"Rrrghh... just like that, the very seas had parted to herald my arrival... you didn't have to do all that for little ol' me..."

Some hours later, Knight LoveGame would awake once more, on the threshold of the accursed Kingdom, just as he'd been promised. Having no recollection of the time he'd been unconscious, dozing atop the round stone altar, surrounded on all sides by six pillars. He'd find himself bone-dry despite plunging into the watery depths only what felt like moments ago. He'd find himself in the inky darkness of a great, spacious cavern, its ceiling too high to be seen in the shadow it cast. Narrow, shallow streams were fed by light, rushing waterfalls that likely kept the cavern lush with plant life. Thick, bushy grass blanketed its floor, and gnarled, twisted trees grew along the sides all the way to the unseen ceiling. Most striking of all was the jagged crack of daylight that poured in through the unusually tall terminus – it was as though the very horizon had been ripped asunder by the divine blade of sunlight.

Having had enough time to take in his surroundings, LoveGame would, once again, push himself back onto his feet... only for his heart to nearly skip a beat when his eyes met his wrist, exposed slightly by the shorter glove. There was no mistaking it – his very flesh had rotted to a festering haze of sickly green and black, no doubt under the full effects of the Darksign's curse. His entire body had likely suffered the same decay, not that he had any desire to confirm this. "So, this is hollowing, huh... What sorta tragedy... just what the hell is this pitiful form I've come to inhabit?" he questioned as he pulled a black hood over his face, not keen on anyone seeing his undead visage. In the back of his mind, LoveGame had made peace with the fact that this might happen, being granted some rudimentary knowledge on the nature of the curse, even if he hoped he might be spared. If anything, it only spurred the knight to forge ahead in search of his humanity.

The descent and decay had weakened the knight severely, as his muscles weren't much use to him stiff and emaciated as they were. Though his legs still carried him forth, he'd stumble occasionally, feeling the blood rush back to his head as he nearly slipped out of consciousness. It became evident to LoveGame that he was in no shape to fight, so he'd have to opt for the cautious approach for the time being. He'd trudge forth, reaching a clearing just beyond the strange circle of pillars. Erratic rustling of the grass just ahead confirmed the knight's suspicions that he wasn't alone. Hidden among the shadowy foliage was a small pack of gangly, jackal creatures scampering about and gnawing on the scattered bones of whatever was unlucky enough to buy it out here.

Easing his way toward them, he counted about four in total. He'd hug the outskirts of the grass doing his best not to alert the pack. Warped as they were, LoveGame thought back to his old tomes on wildlife in an attempt to identify the wide-eyed scavengers. "They're not exactly alike, but the closest I can think of is... well, the guide called 'em 'beavecoons'... Man, what a stupid name if I'm being-" he began to whisper, only to be cut off when the entire group scurried off into the darkness, leaving the carcasses behind. Feeling a sense of relief that they weren't after him, he'd make his way to the other side and mutter to himself, "Guess I offended 'em..."

As the undead man continued down the path, the low, howling wind was gradually drowned out by the white noise of a rushing waterfall. A muddy dirt path extended up to his left, colossally inhuman footprints serving as all the warning he needed not to follow. Instead, he'd peer straight ahead to a sight that gave him a small vestige of hope! It was a small, two-story dwelling built out of the hollow trunk of a great, twisted tree. Cozy and inviting, it gave the knight thoughts of his home immediately. Better yet, it appeared to still be inhabited; the yellow glow of a warm fire could be seen crackling from outside the windows, and a line of clothes were hung out to dry out front. With nowhere else to go, Knight LoveGame saw it fit to let himself in through the front door, to be greeted by the very same folk he encountered in those fateful dreams.

There were three of them, elderly and hunched in their wooden chairs as they gathered around a fine table for tea. Fire Keepers, they were, draped in hooded robes of scarlet. An enigmatic lot since the dawn of the age of fire, their souls were eternally bound with the First Flame itself. In days long past, the Fire Keepers were aplenty, scattered across the continents and tasked with preserving the bonfires – sites of rest and respite for weary undead as they made their journey. Now, according to all known sources, these three were all that remained, save for the rumored sightings of a younger, fourth member. Aged as their visages were, the sisters had likely lived long enough to see the rise and fall of many a great era.

...and each one met the wayward knight's arrival with a decidedly mocking laughter, their voices harmonizing into a chorus of cackling at the poor man's expense before he could even utter a word. "Hah! My, my... look at this one's face. Of all the poor souls they could've sent our way... It had to be this... this casual." said one of them, evidently the head of the trio. "Forgive me if I don't buy it, sisters."

The one to her left chimed in, "Mmm... I don't see much in him, either. Poor fellow likely wouldn't even survive a brawl..." she'd shake her head, taking a sip of her tea.

"Simply pathetic. Let me ask you this, young hollow. Do you truly believe you could get good enough to be granted passage to the Kingdom?" the third woman added, not even looking him in the eye as she spoke. "You aren't exactly the first one to come here, you know."

Doing his best to take the disparaging remarks about him in stride, LoveGame finally spoke up. "Rats. Here I was thinking I was special. Chosen, even. Look, could any of you kind old dears help me out? Given how familiar you all look, I'd wager you were the ones visiting my dreams? Not for nothin', but I prefer 'em a little closer to my own age." he said, recognizing the distinct red garments.

The first woman spoke up again. "Why, of course. All people come here for the same reason, after all. Witnessing a dream, seeking a cure... I'd surmise you're no different. Fortunately for you, we can... point you in the right direction. Before I divulge further, we must know... what is your name, young hollow? That is, provided you are not too hollow to recall." she asked, handing the ragged knight a quill pen and a small tome.

"LoveGame. That is, Knight LoveGame of Wes'Sv'Urginiah." he answered plainly and truthfully as he could, signing his name in the booklet and returning it to her palm.

She'd pore over his handwriting, raising an eyebrow at the unconventional title. "Hmph... what the hell kind of name is 'LoveGame', anyway?" she asked rhetorically, filing it away for record keeping. "In any case, here's your reward for sharing. Go on, take a look." she'd say, rummaging through her bag to produce a small black effigy, woven of an otherworldly wicker material. "Peer deep into it. It's an effigy of you!" she insisted.

At first, LoveGame wasn't quite following. The curious object only vaguely resembled the bust of a human, lacking even the most basic of defining features. However, it was just as he said, the longer he peered into its form, the more it resembled him... his true self. The self he had been deprived of upon his descent into this abyss. Feeling compelled to hold it closer, he'd embrace it until it dissolved, absorbing itself into his body and reinvigorating it with life-affirming flesh! The restraining yoke of fatigue and weakness had been cast from his body at last! "Phew..." he'd say with a stretch of his arms above his head. "...I must look about a hundred years younger. This humble knight thanks you, fire keepers. Guess you really did care about me, hm? I'm flattered, really."

The old woman scoffed and flashed the hint of a smile. "Just giving you a fighting chance, that's all. Don't expect any more handouts. Now... trot along to the Kingdom, would you? You've already interrupted our teatime. Least you could do is make use of our kind gesture." she'd instruct him. "Just beyond this limbo is a settlement. I'd wager it's the closest thing to a safe place Drangleic has to offer, in these trying times. Now... go."

Nodding and flashing them all a thumbs-up, he'd leave them to their meal and head off. Since they didn't seem to mind, he'd take a few moments to poke around the Fire Keepers' abode. Even the inside wasn't too far off from his own home, albeit with two stories. The second was primarily for storage – this place was stocked up with enough supplies and amenities to last many months. Surely they wouldn't miss the spare human effigy that LoveGame casually swiped before heading back down, slipping out the backdoor into the shaded yard.

Nestled within the great hollowed trunk, the backyard offered little beyond a few wheelbarrows full of supplies, parked next to a rusted water pump. Amidst the mundane sights, LoveGame spied something that gave him an odd sense of familiar comfort. A twisted, coiled blade was firmly planted into a mound of silver ash, giving off the faintest vestige of enkindling. As if drawn by instinct alone, the wayward knight would extend his arm toward the hilt of the burnt blade. Reacting to the essence of his soul, it roared to life, manifesting the rejuvenating warmth of a flickering bonfire! The darkened abode was lit up in dancing flashes of yellow and orange, casting an array of shadows on the walls of wood grain.

Though he'd come to recognize these bonfires as places of brief respite for the undead, Knight LoveGame had neither the need nor the time for rest. The effigy had renewed his strength and refreshed his resolve. Indeed, as he began to move around more and settle back into his form, he'd find that he wasn't weakened at all! Rather, the unusual nature of the undead curse had bolstered his strength beyond the human limit! Though a light blade to begin with, his broadsword felt nigh weightless in his grasp. Cursed as he was, the limitations and inconveniences of the human form were no longer his to deal with. "Whoa... this might take some getting used to. Better get going..." he'd mutter to himself, pulling a black cloth hood over his head, covering all but his nose. "...might be best to keep on the low-low. Not that some recognition might do me good, but... I ain't exactly doin' it for the fame."

Leaving the wooded abode behind, he'd head off toward the great shatter of light that marked the cavern's mouth. The way forward took the form of a narrow treeline with a handful of sheer drops into the rushing river below, and a small, ashen beach could be spied in the distance. With one hand on the hilt of his sheathed blade, LoveGame carefully and quietly made his way onward. Under the hushed breeze of the cave, he'd hear the distant sound of gurgling and groaning. Recalling what the Fire Keepers said, the knight knew to expect that he was not alone.

In all his years back home, the knight never thought he'd be subject to looting dead bodies to survive, and yet here he was, scavenging lifegems and other useful goods off of the poor souls that perished in this eternal limbo. He'd flinch at the rustling of grass behind him, slashing a terribly hollowed undead in two just before the rusted sword met the knight's neck! "Whoa, now! What was..." he'd gasp as he watched the bisected corpse collapse. Looking it over, he'd come to understand that this would be the fate of anyone who fully lost their grasp on humanity – something he'd stop at nothing to prevent.

Preferring not to be ambushed again, LoveGame opted to tread lightly, edging closer to the exit, the column of light that shattered the darkness. His eyes now fully adjusted, he'd spy about four more hollows lying in wait around the treeline. Knowing they'd see him for sure if he made a break for it, he stopped to formulate a plan, staying well out of sight until the moment presented itself. Okay, LoveGame... get to strategizing. Let's see here... first, I'll rush down the two archers before they can pelt me... if I'm fast enough, I can whip around and get the other- Wha?!

Suddenly, the swordsman was snapped out of his thoughts by a blinding streak of silver that crossed his vision! His eyes could scarcely keep up as the entity zeroed in on the pack of ravenous hollows, felling one after the other before they'd a ghost of a chance to react! Appearing before the bewildered man was a knightess, elegantly slender and clad in shimmering silver mail, inlaid with bright scarlet engravings all over. Her platinum blonde locks fell straight and flowed down her back, blunt bangs windowing her emerald hues. Her right hand kept a steady grip on a curved blade of lustrous red metal, which she twirled in a flourish and placed on her hip. A shield bearing the visage of a snarling dragon was held in her left.

Trembling a little as he caught his breath and collected his thoughts trying to make sense of what had just transpired, Knight LoveGame stammered out, "W-who... just what the hell's going on now...?"

She'd meet his surprise and disbelief with a smile that beamed with confidence. "So, it really is you... Knight LoveGame of Wes'Sv'Urginiah... So I'm not too late, then... Nice to meet ya, LoveGame." her deep contralto voice spoke. "Ahem... by order of Master Xoxar, I'm here to make sure you see your undead journey through to the end... in essence, I'm here to keep ya alive."

Giving the confused man a deep, proper bow, she'd introduce herself at last. "I'm Ilia. Ilia the Lord Protector."

In this moment, the meeting of two intertwined souls would mark a sharp turn in the very course of Knight LoveGame's fate; even his dreams couldn't forewarn him of an encounter like this! Standing before him adorned in the regalia of unknown lands, just who was this mysterious hero calling herself Ilia?! Was she true to her word as LoveGame's sworn guardian? Whatever the case, the path to the Kingdom had laid itself before the pair, marking the start of a journey without rest. This is the tale of the great King Vendrick's final valiant effort to erase the Darksign from history, and one knight's burning resolve, his unyielding determination to ensure that the roaring embers of his highness' legacy would not be extinguished!