The fallen leaves tell a story. Depending on who you ask, the story can go many different ways. It can be a story of a righteous hero. Someone who goes out of their way to do the morally right thing. Someone who is a firm believer in mercy, redemption, and honor. Someone who walks the path filled with thorns, and great struggle. Despite how much pain it causes them, they continue to believe in the idea of hope. After great struggle, they finally achieve a happy ending, and usher in a new age of peace and prosperity.
However…it can also be a story about great evil. Someone who sees people as nothing but bugs to squash. Sees them as nothing but playthings to throw away when they break or grow bored. Someone who possesses unparalleled cruelty, spite, and an unending and bottomless pool of hatred. Someones whose heart is as cold and unfeeling as the sword they use to sadistically and gleefully cut down and slaughter anyone in their way. After mercilessly killing all who oppose them, they subjugate and dominate all and everything around them, creating a world where they reign as lord, and rule over the masses with a heartless and iron fist.
The story can fork many different ways. In the Worlds Between, there are possible infinite outcomes. In this story however, it is not something mere mortals would know. Not even the gods dear speak the name this story follows. For many mortals, he was a hero. For others, a villain. To some, a scared mortal just trying to survive. To a select few, a gifted warrior who surpassed all odds and became lord of a new age.
But to those who knew him best, he was a slave. A slave to fear, anger, lust, greed, and above all else, love. A passionate man who would gladly cut down anyone of any age, to save the people he loved. Someone who despite all their heroics, feared death like any other normal man. But not his death. No, he had long ago abandoned his attachment to live when he decided to take up the sword. No…what he feared was the death of loved ones. The death of his family, friends, nature. This fear consumed him, shackled him. Branded his heart, no matter how fast or far he ran. It was always one step behind.
Having been born in the Land of Reed, Echtra followed a strict code of honor and duty. He was a samurai, an honorable warrior who would gladly brandish the sword for the chance of combat. He relished it, bathed in it daily. He was nurtured by it. But unlike his fellow brothers and sisters, Echtra was deeply emotional. Someone who regularly used his passion and rage in battle. And unlike his fellow warriors, he was constantly terrified of the thought of losing his comrades. The thought of his brothers dying in battle…was something he could never accept.
It was this fear that caused him to betray his family, after learning they planned to sacrifice their eldest child and his sibling, to distract enemy forces and catch them by surprise. The decision was devastating. It was unacceptable. How can they throw away their own flesh and blood, for something so insignificant as strangers and a few thousand soldiers that could be replaced within a few months time? But after confronting his parents, they told him something that broke what little trust he still had for his family.
When he learned that it was actually his brother that suggested they he be used as bait, so that they could save the rest of their forces. And his parents agreed without hesitation. How could they do this? How could his brother ever suggest something like that? How could his family let go of their own son so easily? How could his brother throw away his own life? Did their bond mean nothing? Did all their history, times they fought, times they trained and ate together, mean nothing to him?
He wouldn't allow it. He left a letter for his brother, and ventured off into the night, and faced the overwhelming forces by himself. The odds were woefully stacked against him. It was a fruitless battle. He hacked and slashed, cutting down foe after foe with expert precision. But their superior number proved to be too much. Eventually, he was struck down, but not before spitefully taking down hundreds of enemy soldiers before perishing. That should have been the end of his story. But fate…had other plans.
He awoke from what felt like a very long dream. He was in a strange building, they felt like a church. After exiting the strange building, he was ambushed by a strange and horrifying eight legged monstrosity, which immediately tried to kill. He was caught completely off guard. Despite this, years of battle worked in his favor, and instinctively brandished his sword to kill the creature. Despite facing something out of his mortal world, he emerged victorious.
However, the damage to him was fatal. He succumbed to his wounds shortly after the creature shrieked out in agony, before dissolving into dust. Once again, he woke up, this time in a dark and dank cave. Perplexed by this turn of events, he explored the strange area. He came across strange enemies, zombies, archers and swordsmen with armor he'd never seen before. One such enemy proved to be quite the annoyance. Armor far thicker than those before him. He was slain all the same.
Venturing out into the outside, he discovered monsters, demons, thieves, witches, half man half wolf warrior, and even demigods. It was something out of reality. He eventually learns what he had become. Tarnished. An immortal warrior guided by lights of gold. Grace, the rude surgeon, had called it. After meeting a merchant by the name of Kale, he learned that he had the potential to become the most powerful creature to exist in these 'Lands Between'. In the form of a strange woman, Melina. After discovering Runes from Melina, he had only one goal; become strong. He had no interest in becoming this 'Elden Lord' so many had spoken of. He had neither the reason or care to try. The only thing that could kill that emptiness, was by becoming the strongest, so that he may never die again.
But…that journey was not easy. Time after time, death after death, he seemed to make little progress. He was slowly losing his mind, from his deaths, and the endless murder of others caused by him, or the cruelty of malevolence of others. The only thing that kept him sane, was his loyal companion Torrent, the spectral steed, and Melina, with her constant presence watching over him. Even then, it did little to erase the trauma of constant death and rebirth. He started to feel despair. Why couldn't he have just stayed dead? Why must he continue to suffer so? Why did he have to be brought into this hellhole, only to die again and again? These questions gnawed at his sanity, and festered. Then despair turned into fear. And then that fear turned to hatred. He hated this. He wanted it all to end. He just wanted to rest in peace. He knew nothing of this 'Greater Will', but what he did know was that it was responsible for this torment, and for that reason, he began to hate. Hate it for bringing him back when he was perfectly content to die protecting his loved ones. Hated it for not allowing him peace. Hated it for the shackles it placed on him, bounding Echtra to constantly die until he completed the task set out for him.
Echthra then decided. If Melina and her precious god wanted him to become Elden Lord so much, then he would. And when he did, he would usurp the Greater Will, destroy it until nothing remained, and replace it with whatever constitutes a 'god'. To do this though, he needed strength. He needed power. With this renewed purpose, he set off to Stormveil slaughtering all the soldiers that dared stand in his way. He met another warrior there, the first to not try and kill him on sight. Nepheli Loux, daughter of Sir Gideion Ofnir. The name meant nothing to him, but he was grateful nonetheless for a companion. After vengefully killing the Fell Omen Margit, avenging his many deaths at his hand, he set eyes on the lord of the castle, Godrick. A decrepit Demigod who practiced the art of 'Grafting'. A disgusting sight. Truly a pathetic creature.
Killing him would be a mercy. Together with his newfound companion and increased strength, they defeated the so-called 'Lord of all that is golden'. When Echtra's blade struck down Godrick, he felt it. The Great Rune. It was marvelous. Addictive, he believed was the proper word. And with that Great Rune, he gained marvelous strength. And with strength, he gained the power to attain victory. Through that victory, the chains of his past were broken. From there, he moved on to greater heights. He slayed demons, sorcerers, witches, and even more demigods.
A giant snake, a heartbroken queen, a great general gone mad, and even lords. Of course he died many more times, but he took that pain, that hatred, and channeled it into his fighting. Nothing could stop him. He was invincible, unstoppable. Until he had his revenge, he would never quit. His heart grew cold, and his hatred red hot, becoming a monster in combat.
However, one woman thawed his cold stone heart. A woman, near death due to the Scarlet rot, the disease that cursed Caleid. After heeding the desperate request of a pleading sorcerer, he helped to alleviate her suffering, to quell the Scarlet Rot so that she may live. Indebted to him, the redheaded woman Milliecent swore to help him on his quest to seize the throne. They traveled together, fought together, ate together, trained together, and even loved together. It was a feeling Echtra had long forgotten. But this honorable, kind hearted woman reminded him what he had forgotten so long ago.
As their bond grew, so too did Echtra's ambition. Now more than ever, he needed to destroy the Greater Will. As long as it plagued this land, he could never find true happiness with Millicent. Together, they traveled to the mountains. They planned to kill the last of the Demigods, and Marika's heirs. Melania, blade of Miquella. With her death, Echtra could finally enact his plan to destroy what had caused him so much pain.
Once in the capital of Lyndell, Echtra found something incredible. Another Outer God. It was the perfect opportunity. He heard a voice at the bottom of Lyndell's sewers. It beckoned him. Promises of power, freedom. How could he refuse? Ignoring all of Melina's warnings, he approached the cathedral with bated breath. Stepping to the strange giant hand with only three fingers, he gladly accepted its embrace. The burns melted his skin. It was exquisite. His final chains had been broken. With this power, he was truly free.
Melina cursed him, saying he was no longer fit for the role as Elden Lord. He simply glared at her spitefully, and sneered with disgust. He would deal with her at a later time. For now, Melania awaits. He would show no mercy, no pity. Only hate. For the woman he would one day marry, he will kill all who stood in his way. Even if they happen to be a god.