Outside, the moonlit night is calm, with a cool breeze blowing lightly through the derelict street; there the unkindled stands, comfortably by himself, on the porch of the still-occupied loot house. Despite Reinhard's protests, Felt absolutely refused to leave the old man's side until he awoke, hating the idea of him doing so alone. Emilia had assured her that he would recover, the healing light of her magic making it so, but even the undead, socially inept as he may be, could still see the flicker of worry shine behind the young girl's eyes. He's important to her, that much is clear, and so for now Ash would remain as well, guarding the people inside.
The undead assassin could still be nearby after all, and despite Reinhard's apparent standing within the kingdom, his capabilities were still a mystery, and he wasn't keen to leave anything to chance.
Besides, what else was there left for him to do? His quest to recover Emilia's insignia was complete, as was helping little Plum find her parents.
In the distance, specs of candlelight can be seen flickering warmly, the glow peering out and illuminating the dark even from behind closed curtains and beneath wooden doorframes. Unlike the ostensibly eternal torches that lined the walls of Lothric, here these undoubtedly showed signs of life, signs of families and homes.
This painted world was a place that still held homes.
And the thought is melancholic at best. What purpose could he serve in such a place? Ruin and decay were all he'd ever known.
From the moment he arrived he had been able to occupy his time and thoughts, one quest after another… but after this there was nothing. In Lothric he'd always had an objective, a lord to conquer, an item to discover, a firelink companion to assist. No matter how painful it may be there was always some material goal within his reach… until the very end. And now? Now…
Maybe he never should have entered this gentle painting…
A ghost whispers in his head. 'I've seen your kind, time and time again. Every fleeing man must be caught. Every secret must be unearthed. Such is the conceit of the self-proclaimed seeker of truth…'
He clenches his fist tightly, the metal of his gauntlet scraping against itself.
A figure exits the loot house behind him.
'…. But in the end, you lack the stomach. For the agony you'll bring upon yourself.'
"Ash? Is everything okay?" Emilia's soft voice jolts him from his stupor.
He releases his breath, years of practice allowing him to do so with the illusion of calm. "Ah… Lady Emilia. My apologies, it seems I was lost in thought."
She hesitates in the doorframe for a moment, before stepping forward beside him.
For a while they stand together in silence, the serenity of the night interrupted only by the occasional awkward fidget from the silver-haired girl. Her eyes swinging back and forth between the knight beside her and anything but, with words clearly on the tip of her tongue yet unable to escape. She had never been particularly good with people. Her mouth opens and closes again.
"…perhaps thou would feel more comfortable insid-" Ash starts.
"Why did you decide to help me?" she blurts out before he can finish, louder than she intended. Her porcelain skin flushes red, embarrassed at her own outburst.
He looks at her in confusion. That is what she had struggled to ask? "As I said before, thou had reminded me of an old friend." he replies simply.
Her lips twist in frustration at his answer, again much to his confusion. He had been entirely truthful, was that not what she wanted to hear?
Her voice, though much quieter now, speaks out again. "That shouldn't be enough to help someone like me."
"…Pardon?"
A harsher breeze blows through them and her shoulders tremble, though part of him isn't convinced that it's really the cause. She turns her head away from him, already anticipating his response to what she was about to reveal.
"I'm a half-elf." her voice, somehow even quieter than before, essentially whispers out the words.
For a moment the knight remains in silence, and Emilia, with her face still turned away from him, only grows more and more convinced that she pushed him away with her revelation. It wouldn't be the first time, unfortunately, though for a reason she can't quite explain the knot that twists beneath her chest feels even more violent than expected. And just as she is about to excuse herself and re-enter the doorframe, unwilling to bear the now suffocating quiet, the knight speaks.
"I'm… not familiar with the term, I'm afraid."
His words freeze her in place and her mind blanks. Slowly, her head turns back to face him, with a clear look of astonishment painting her every feature. That was about the last response she had ever expected, as was the way he now appears somewhat embarrassed at his own lack of knowledge, with the front of his helmet facing downward, away from her eyes.
"I… what?" she stumbles.
He sighs in response. "I haven't the faintest idea of what a half-elf is or what reason that would carry to withhold my assistance from thee."
Her eyes now drill holes through the titanite of his helmet, searching for any hint of deceit. "Have you really never heard the description of the Witch of Envy?"
"Who?"
She almost can't even believe what she's hearing, never had she met someone so unaware of the nation's—no, the world's history. It would be like someone telling her that they had never seen the sun in the sky.
Well, maybe that was a bit over-dramatic.
"You… you're being serious, aren't you?" She really had not prepared for this outcome when she pictured this moment earlier, and she had spent at least twenty minutes in the loot-house mustering up the courage to be honest with him. "The Witch of Envy was a silver-haired half-elf who nearly destroyed the world before she was sealed by the Divine Dragon, the first Sword Saint, and the Sage, four-hundred years ago." she recounts for him.
"And thou holds a resemblance to this so-called Witch?"
She timidly nods.
"Then thou hast my sympathies, such a thing must prove difficult for thee." He was intimately familiar with the darkness held within the hearts of men and could easily imagine the vile treatment that must often arise from her situation.
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "So… you really don't hate me for my appearance?" The tips of her fingers reach for her pointed ears subconsciously, her silver hair still covering them to the best of its ability.
"Of course not." And with that his hand moves to gently brush her hair behind her ear, fully revealing it to the world. The black metal of his armored gauntlet contrasted well against her majestic silver. "I don't fully understand, but these appear to be the reason behind thy concern."
Her face falls and she nods again.
"A shame. I consider them beautiful." He speaks the truth, although he had never seen such a characteristic in all his time traversing Lordran; they complimented Lady Emilia's appearance well, especially in comparison to his own peculiar ailment.
She freezes as his words begin to register and slowly her pale skin erupts into a pleasant shade of pink before she covers her face with both hands. Nobody had ever said that to her before.
He really was a foolish knight.
"You dunderhead." she mutters from beneath her hands, miraculously without a stutter.
He supposes he deserves that for overstepping his boundaries, though he had only spoken the truth.
For a while longer, they continue to stand together, the quiet between them now far more comfortable and the blush dusting Emilia's cheeks slowly ebbing away; the pale of her skin returning along with a bit of recovered composure.
It's only that bit of composure that prevents her from being startled when Ash's voice once again cuts through the silence.
"Lady Emilia, I fear I have something to reveal as well." His voice is far quieter than she could ever recall in the short time she'd known him.
She turns to face him completely, her attention undivided, and says warmly. "You can tell me anything, Ash. You deserve that much."
He's not entirely sure why he feels the need to tell her at all, as this would likely be the last time they interact anyways, and by now he's sure that she doesn't suffer the same curse. With the exception of their would-be assassin, this painted world was full of life.
Life.
"Emilia, I am an undea- "
…
She stares at him quizzically, silently ushering him to continue.
He can't.
The sudden agony of an unseeable hand seizing his heart with an iron grip prevents it.
Emilia, entirely oblivious to his turmoil, waits a moment longer with an understanding smile. Then, when it's clear he won't speak further, does so for him. "It's alright, Ash. I know how hard it can be."
The sensation dissipates as quickly as it arrived, and yet the undead can only nod to her in response.
'What in the cursed abyss was that?'
His eyes dart around beneath his helmet, desperately searching for any sign of the hidden threat without alarming the girl beside him. Was it the assassin again, now returned with a sinister curse? He didn't believe she was capable of such, but it wouldn't be the first time the unkindled underestimated an opponent. Although why hadn't she killed him? She certainly had ample opportunity. He could still remember the phantom grip of each individual finger.
A million questions thunder throughout his skull, none with a clear answer.
Had her real target been Emilia all along? It had been her insignia stolen that led to all of this…
His head darts to the girl beside him and confusingly catches her staring at him in return. She quickly looks away in embarrassment. Well, she certainly didn't seem to be under the effect of any spell or curse. For now, at least.
It's times like these when he really wishes he had invested more time and experience in faith to cast Vow of Silence. A miracle of tremendous use with the ability to block the casting of all spells within its limited vicinity.
"Ash?" Emilia's voice penetrates his guard. He looks at her with inquiry, subtly checking her expression for any sign of ailment, or attempting to at least, as for some reason her face was still turned away. "I know you're new to Lugunica… so… do you have anywhere to stay currently?" Her voice trails off into a quieter mummer with every word spoken.
The question isn't one that Ash had even considered prior. A place to stay? It's been some time since he had such a thing. Not since Firelink Shrine, though he'd rather not think about that. He supposes he'd just find a lone bonfire to rest at, eventually. He always does. "Not particularly, though not to worry, I've grown accustomed to it and will make do as I always have."
He said that far too neutrally for her liking. Her cheeks puff up and she turns to face him once again, her previous embarrassment forgotten in place of indignation. "That's way too vague! Come stay with me!" she yells out as more of a demand than a request. "A-After all, I owe you for helping me."
"Thou carry no such debt; I only did what I wished."
Her glare deepens. Was that not the correct response? Well, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea regardless, if Emilia truly was targeted by that assassin, then it was likely she would be again. He could protect her.
A quest.
The thought uncoils a knot beneath his chest.
"…Thou art truly kind, Lady Emilia. I will accompany thee if that is thy desire."
Her glare disappears in the blink of an eye, and she appears strangely haughty in response, with a deep smile and a light hum. "Great! There should be a carriage waiting for me in the capital, I'll take you there!" She takes a pause in realization. "I was actually supposed to be there before sundown, I hope Ram won't be too upset…"
"Then perhaps it best we don't keep them waiting." He wasn't too keen on sticking around for much longer anyways, the grip on his heart still fresh in his mind. If he was to become Emilia's guard, however temporary it may be, it would be best to get her somewhere safer.
He steps back into the loot house, Emilia right behind him, and sees Reinhard standing alone. Felt, it would seem, had at some point fallen asleep beside the old giant, as she now sleeps on the floor. Emilia couldn't fault her; she had been through a terrifying ordeal.
"Reinhard." Ash's voice cuts through the quiet and catches the knight's attention. "Lady Emilia and I shall be taking our leave."
He nods in response with a knowing smile. "Very well, it brings me relief to know she'll be in capable hands. Watch out for her."
Ash nods. "The same for thee as well. Keep a close eye on the girl, the undead assassin may not have run far."
Although he's grown more convinced that the danger was more likely to follow them instead if his usual luck was anything to go by.
And with that, the duo begins their return to the inner kingdom. The meeting place that Emilia and Ram had decided upon had apparently not been far from where Ash had originally met her. She hadn't been meant to traverse as far as she had, it would seem. Hopefully Ram would be more forgiving once she learned the reason for her tardiness, it had been paramount to retrieve Emilia's stolen insignia after all.
…
"So, Lady Emilia deemed it necessary to make me wait so she could irresponsibly gallivant around with a knight. How shrewd of you."
Or perhaps not.
As soon as the pair arrived at the carriage they had been met with a scrutinizing gaze from the lone passenger. An apparent maid with short pink hair, dressed in a frilly uniform of black and white, with exposed shoulders as well as, confusingly, a partially exposed chest, with the top and bottom of the skirted dress held together only by a pair of strings, while the long black sleeves reaching down to her hands were seemingly connected to nothing at all. Ash had seen many styles of clothing in his time in Lothric, but this was uniquely strange and risqué. Did all maids wear such 'uniforms' in this world?
Her words had only further confused the knight, as Emilia hadn't even had a chance to explain herself before the woman began her tirade. And Emilia, the poor girl, could only stand there in defeat with her head held down, as if she had just expected as much and was waiting out the storm.
"B-But it's not my fault! A thief stole my insignia and Ash here helped me get it back!" She eventually proclaimed when the maid had given her the first opportunity.
"Is that so?" The maid's irate attention turns toward the knight in question. "And why would he do that? Expecting a reward, perhaps? Pervert."
"…Huh?" The crude accusation leaves him speechless. Never in the entirety of his undead existence had he ever been called such a thing, and by a woman dressed like that of all people…
Emilia rises to his defense. "Ram, that was very rude! Ash has been nothing but a gentleman to me! Without his help I never would have gotten my insignia back, and this election would be over before it even started. How do you think Roswaal would have felt about that?"
The words bring a soft humph to the maid's lips, but the reminder of her master ultimately draws her defeat in the matter, and she apologizes with a simple bow to the Ashen One. "My apologies for the accusation, it was untoward of me to refer to Emilia's savior in such a manner."
"…That's why I offered to let him stay at the mansion with me…"
"I'd like to withdraw my apology." Ram replies flatly.
Ash sighs in defeat. This quest was certainly not proceeding how he expected.
Eventually, the group proceeded to the carriage and toward the mansion. Ram's indignation had slowly morphed into a dull quiet, as Emilia had been unusually forceful in her demands, insisting that the knight be brought along with them to the mansion. Honestly, the girl was far too trusting. The maid could only hope that he wouldn't prove to be too much trouble, or else draw the ire of her sister.
That is, if he would even be allowed inside. Lord Roswaal had never been too keen to allow guests within his home without good reason.
Ash and Emilia had chosen to sit together on one side of the carriage, though not too close, as Emilia seemed a bit too embarrassed to sit so near, subtly scooching as close to the window as possible, while Ram sat atop, driving them to their destination. The atmosphere within was unfortunately awkward at best, with Emilia struggling to sit still and quiet, stressed with finding something to say, while Ash seemed content to just let the time pass peacefully; simply closing his eyes beneath his helmet.
The earth dragon that pulled the carriage had been an interesting discovery for him at least, as he had never seen such a creature before, although the name earth dragon had left a bit of a bad taste in his mouth due to unpleasant memories. Not that it particularly even looked like a dragon, thankfully, resembling more of a simple bipedal lizard without any sign of wings.
It took a few hours to ultimately reach the vicinity of Lord Roswaal's Manor, the night had grown long, and Emilia had fallen in and out of a light sleep throughout the journey, with every short rest, however, she would slowly inch closer and closer to the knight beside her, culminating in her now resting her head upon his armored shoulder while in a deeper slumber. It was unlikely that she was even aware of such a fact, but he couldn't help but notice that she now slept more comfortably than any point prior. Part of him had been tempted to sleep alongside her, as an undead he was capable of such though his body didn't necessarily require it, but he couldn't help but still feel wary about the road ahead and behind, cautious of whatever dangers may lurk in the dark beyond the subtle lamplight of their carriage. This painted world seemed so far more peaceful than Lothric, but that was not a high bar to achieve.
As they neared closer, the carriage had come upon a tiny village, the small hints of candlelight revealing themselves in the darkness as they passed. It looked peaceful from the momentary glance and was yet more proof of the gentleness of this painting to the unkindled. Afterward it didn't take much longer to finally reach the gates of the manor causing Ram to disembark from the carriage to open it and allow them passageway. The path ahead was lit by light posts and surrounded by what appeared to be tenderly trimmed flora and a large garden full of well-maintained green grass near the mansion's entrance.
The mansion itself was much larger than Ash had expected, with a white six-story center flanked on both sides by two four-story wings along with a handful of grandiose towers reaching even further into the sky from beyond the black rooftops. Just how many workers does this Roswaal character have in his employ to maintain such a place?
Ash had certainly seen larger structures, the kingdom of Lothric held its fair share of truly gargantuan castles, as well as the colossal architecture of the Ringed City, but as a home for a supposed few it seemed almost gluttonous in its scale. How could each and every room possibly hold a purpose?
As the carriage gently pulls to a stop near the entrance of the manor, Ash nudges the sleeping girl on his shoulder to awaken her, and she drowsily does so with a yawn while softly rubbing her eyes. It only takes her a moment longer to register her position and she quickly shoots up with a cough and a light blush when she does. Choosing not to tease her for her state of embarrassment, Ash instead simply exits the carriage before holding out his hand and assisting Emilia in doing the same. He may have not been trained in the etiquette of a knight, but he knew some manners well enough.
It's then that Ash takes notice of Ram awaiting them further ahead.
Did her hair color change? That's certainly strange.
He walks forward to join her until the sound of feet meeting pavement beside him startles him, a quick look reveals Ram, having apparently just dropped off the driver seat of the carriage.
Well, now he's definitely confused. He shifts his head between the two near-identical maids, dressed the same with mirroring hair styles, though each with a different color; that of pink and blue.
Ram moves to stand beside her doppelganger and whispers in her ear, the blue-haired girl only nods in response.
Twins. Ash only hopes their personalities aren't as alike as their appearance…
"Sister, sister, this knight is looking upon us lewdly."
"Rem, Rem, hide yourself from his lecherous eyes."
Great. Was it too late to return to the capital?
Emilia huffs up her cheeks at their teasing before gesturing to the blue-haired maid. "Don't mind them, Ash. This is Rem; Ram's twin sister."
"…It's a pleasure." he lies.
"Rem. This is Ash, he'll be staying with us as a guest, so treat him well."
The maid gives a curt nod in response and nothing else. After the unpleasant introductions, the twin maids lead the pair through the doors and into the manor. The interior proved to be just as grand as the exterior, with a vast entrance room covered in polished marble flooring, twin pillars adorned with lit candlelight and a glass chandelier hanging above. On the left and right were mirrored hallways leading through each wing of the manor with a velvet carpet in both adding an even more luxurious quality to the home, and a lone stairway beside a closed double doorway on the center of the back wall.
"Allow me to lead you to your room, dear guest." Rem draws the knight's attention.
Ash looks unsure for a moment, before Emilia waves him along. "Go ahead, we'll talk more tomorrow."
He nods, accepting the maid's proposal, and follows her up a staircase and onto the third floor hallway, it's décor identical to the halls below. It's only a short walk later before the two arrive in front of a wooden door leading to one of the many guest bedrooms.
"Do you require a change of clothes, dear guest?" Rem asks curtly.
"I believe I will be fine, thou hast my gratitude for thy support."
The maid, with a straight face that could very well be carved from stone, only nods before taking her leave with a slight courtesy. Her movements are stiff and practiced, and Ash can't help but feel she's unusually wary of him for reasons he's unsure.
After her brisque exit he opens the door expecting a standard bedroom, only to blink in surprise as instead a vast library with shelves upon shelves filled to the brim with books confusingly occupies the space.
And it wasn't untenanted.
"How strange of you to stumble upon this place first try, I suppose."
A little girl, clothed in a frilly pink ornate dress with white trimmings and a pink ribbon adorned on the right side of her waist. Her pale cream hair was unusual, fashioned into a twin set of large spiraling drills beneath more pink ribbons and a tiny crown, with both blonde drills gradually fading into pink as they reach the tips. What stood out the most, however, was her large blue eyes, the irises of each resembling that of pink butterflies.
"Thou art quite young to be left here unattended, little one." he notices.
A clear misstep, if her new frustrated expression is any indication. "How arrogant, I suppose! Betty is far older than you, in fact!"
"Ah, is that so?" he replies, not believing a word of it as he steps forward to take a closer look at the books surrounding them. His casual dismissal doesn't go unnoticed, however, as Betty's irritated gaze continues to drill holes in the back of his helmet, and she scoffs as his eyes search the bookshelf.
"What permission do you have to look upon these books, I wonder?"
The question stops him just as his hand begins to pull a book from the shelf.
She does have a point, unfortunately. Just because he's a guest of this manor doesn't give him the right to immediately snoop around, even if he really wanted to. "…Indeed, pardon my intrusion, little one. I'm afraid my curiosity has a tradition of getting the better of me."
She gives a soft humph in response. "At the very least you have some semblance of manners, I suppose. Although your condescension in calling me little does not go unnoticed, in fact." She turns her nose up at him.
"My apologies." he relinquishes without much care. "What is this place? I was led to believe I had been guided to a guest room, not a library."
"This is Roswaal's forbidden library and the door leading to it changes at my whim, I suppose."
Spatial magic? At her whim? "An odd but impressive manner of spell, I must admit. Thou must be skilled in the art of sorcery to achieve it."
The compliment gains no ground with her. "How antiquated to refer to Yin Magic as sorcery, I suppose. What era did someone like you emerge from, I wonder?"
The question was probably meant as a sarcastic insult, though the Ashen One attempts to answer it regardless. "Truthfully that's a complicated question. In Lothric, the land from which I hail, time itself had been convoluted."
She raises her eyebrow at that. "Lothric… Betty has never heard of such a place, in fact. And what do you mean by convoluted, I wonder?"
"It was a transitory realm, where the lands of the various Lords of Cinder all converged into a single location, causing time and space to fluctuate." he explains, as if it were a simple thing.
She looks at the knight oddly before scoffing. "As if such a thing could be true, you have quite an imagination, I suppose."
Well, perhaps the concept was a bit too complicated for one so young.
Then, as if reading his thoughts, the little girl raises her palm towards him and declares: "It's time for you to go, in fact. Betty has enough stories in here without you adding more, I suppose."
And with a sudden gust of powerful wind, the Ashen One is pushed backwards towards the door, with the weight of his armor only preventing him from being lifted off his feet completely. The moment his feet slide through the doorway, the door in front of him closes by itself.
The action alone isn't enough to draw any concern from the knight; he had been treated far worse by the spells of sorcerers before after all, and he remained entirely undamaged.
However, his parting glance at the girl's final expression had left a strange impression upon him, or more specifically: the sudden familiar dullness of her colorful eyes.
'What could have caused such a sullen appearance?'
A/N: Well there's another chapter down, and to think it didn't take a year this time! Progress, people, progress. Thank you all for the lovely responses at this story's return. That said I've seen a couple of questions that I'd like to answer to the best of my ability without giving away spoilers.
NavyZero8745: He is running a bit of a dex build, not quite the same as pure quality as he has less points in vigor, but not too dissimilar. I'm basing Ash's abilities on my own DS3 character I used on my last full run, but keep in mind that certain things that would be considered gameplay mechanics will be absent from this story.
Guest: Bit of a late response to this question but Ash currently speaks with more Old English than some Dark Souls characters because of the amount of time he's spent interacting with the Firekeeper, it's just a habit he's formed from his most common source of human interaction. I'm debating whether or not to break him of this habit as the story progresses depending on how people feel about it.
That's it for this chapter, hope you enjoyed!