I FINALLY FINISHED THIS FREAKING CHAPTER!
Bro's, I cannot express my relief of finally getting this chapter out of the way. I literally scraped three different idea's trying to get this thing done. For dealing with a few characters that don't even matter to the overall plotline, this was one hell of an annoying chapter. Also, thank you to all of those who submitted suggestions and idea's for you thought this chapter should go. I seriously appreciate it.
Alright, now that that's been said, let me address a couple things.
Firstly, THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH. Dark Souls: Derp Edition now the number one most followed OC Dark souls FanFic and the second highest favorited. I am seriously glad I made it this far. Hope I can keep you guys entertained with this little story of mine. :)
Secondly, wow, I did not expect the League of Legends story would get such a positive turnout. A lot of you guys have been asking if I would keep it going or if it was just a one time thing. Well, I will say that I did have a lot of fun writing it and I do have a lot of fun idea for how things could go. I mean, I certainly wouldn't mind keeping it going. Hell, I could even make it its own little story for my profile. (Lol might be getting a bit too excited about this.)
Let me know what you guys think. Be glad to here outside opinions on this.
Now without further delay, here the new chapter.
Hope you guys enjoy.
"Great." Velka said with a cheerful smile on her face. "This is going to be wonderful, prophet. I will make sure that we both enjoy ourselves to the fullest. Oh, but there's so much to do beforehand. I could spruce myself up a bit, maybe even make something for us to eat."
As he watched her wonder and plan on things she wanted to do, a question popped into the prophets mind.
"Wait, how are you going to know when I'm done with anything? I don't exactly have some magical super flare on me." the prophet questioned.
"Do not concern yourself with that, Prophet. I have my ways of locating you." Velka said before leaning in and pecking his cheek, then standing up and flexing her wings with a smile. "I'll see you soon then. And please, do hurry with your business. It is quite rude to keep a woman waiting."
With that, she beat her wings twice before taking off upward.
Once she was out of sight, the prophet couldn't stop himself from leaning back onto the rocky wall and releasing a tired sigh.
"What the hell have I gotten into now?" the prophet said to himself with a weary exhale of breath, before standing on his feet. "Why can't things just stay simple? Getting through an army of hollows, demons and murderers? That's simple. Going back in time to kill an ancient evil with unfathomable power? That's simple. But dealing with the eternal mystery that is a women? That's just straight up unfair."
Now done laying out his personal grips about his situation, the prophet allowed himself to enjoy the brief moment of silence before giving another sigh and speaking once more.
"Well, I guess there's no time or point in worrying about it right now." the prophet said, quickly getting to his feet. "I need to get moving."
Not wasting any more time, the prophet moved towards the two corpses the held the items he sought, one being a sword that seeming very simple in both shape and design, but also seemed to hold very faint aura around its blade. The other being a blue shield with a golden dragon emblem engraved on its front.
Quickly pillaging them both items, the prophet took a moment to examine them both.
The first item being the shield.
Dragon Crest Shield
Shield of a nameless knight, likely a high-ranked knight of Astora.
One of the enchanted blue shields. The Dragon Crest Shield greatly reduces fire damage.
The second came the sword.
Astora Straight Sword
Straight sword of an unknown knight, likely one of Astora's superiors.
High-quality weapon with a powerful blessing.
"Well, it might have cost me the Zweihander, but now I have what I need to get through the Catacombs. Hopefully, I'm not too late." the prophet said as he placed both items inside the magic satchel, allowing them both t disappear within its void. It was then that his eye's fell on the large severed hand of the Undead Dragon and a thought crossed his mind. "Hmm. I didn't get the souls from the kill, but I wonder if..."
Continuing the thought no further, the prophet approached the limb and began to scan the moldy flesh from top to bottom. Until his eye's fell on what appeared to be a greyish, rocky portion of flesh. Exactly what he was hoping for.
Dragon Scale
Dragon scale for reinforcing dragon weapons. Peeled from an ancient dragon.
A dragon is inseparable from its scales, and the transcendent apostles, who seek the perpetuity of the ancient dragons, have crossed the very end of the earth to seek this invaluable treasure.
"Yes!" the prophet exclaimed happily as he grabbed hold of the rough piece of flesh and, with more than a bit of effort, ripped it free from the severed appendage. "I'll definitely be able to put this to good use."
Placing the large scale inside the magic satchel, the prophet then proceeded to retrieve another item in its place. One of the Homeward bones he pillaged from Petrus's hidden stash under the elevator.
"Time to head back." the prophet said before he used his thumb to snap the ashen bone in half.
Firelink Shrine
Once the prophet had left her alone with the strange merchant and the crestfallen knight, Anastacia could not help but feel a bit apprehensive. The entire time they were alone, the two warriors didn't speak a word to her, choosing instead to keep to themselves. This oppressive silence somewhat left her with a feeling of loneliness. She found herself missing the prophets talkative and outgoing presence.
As if on cue, a soft ringing echoed throughout the shrine before a familiar figure faded into view. The moment she recognized who it was, a bright smile appeared of the keepers face.
"Prophet!" Anastacia said happily
Once he got his bearings, the prophet returned a smile of his own. Quickly getting to her feet, the keeper moved forward and approached the prophet with very joyful demeanor.
"You've returned." Anna said in a cheery tone. "Were you successful in your travels , then?"
"Yeah. I managed to get everything I need to get through the Catacombs." the prophet replied "Rhea's group already has a huge head start on me, so I can't stay here long."
"R-Right. You are too head after them now." Anastacia said with a look of concern, understanding that he had too, but finding herself worrying about the dangers he would face. From the way he spoke of it before, the catacombs were a truly treacherous location. "Well...I wish thee luck then."
Noticing her clear concern, the prophet did his best to bring her ease.
"Something wrong, Anna?" the prophet asked. "You seem like you might have something on your mind."
At this, the keepers eye's somewhat faltered as she spoke her next words, as if she wasn't sure if she should say what was really on her mind.
"Its just...Please be careful, Prophet." Anastacia said in an almost pleading tone. "From your previous warning, the journey forward will be riff with terrifying danger. If anything to happen to you and you went hollow then... "
The distress the thought was causing her was written all throughout her body. Her eye's seemed to hold a great deal of fear, her lips pursed slightly as if to prevent her from finishing the sentence, and a small frown marred her face.
"Hey, there's no need to worry, Anna." the prophet said in an easy-going tone. "Nothing in the Catacombs is strong enough to take me down. I'll be there and back before you even know I was gone."
Anastacia's eye's somewhat softened at this. Slowly turning her gaze away from his, she spoke in an a low tone, wanting to hear him speak but a few words that she knew would clear her mind of any doubt or fear that she held.
"Can you...promise me that, prophet?" the keeper said bashfully. "That no matter what happens...you'll survive and return here to me?"
As the prophet gently used his hand to raise her eye's to his, Anastacia's face took on a pinkish tint.
"Its a promise, Anna." the prophet said with a smile. "No matter what happens, I make sure to come back safe and sound."
After these words were spoke, a short silence fell between the two as they looked into one another's eye's. With the prophet smiling innocently, confident that he had helped ease his friends worry and Anastacia simply gazing into the prophets eye's, very much aware of the intimacy of how close they were to one another and the feeling of his touch on her.
"Well.." the prophet said, breaking their wordless conversation. "..I should really get going. Wouldn't want those guys to do anything stupid without me."
She stared at him for a moment in confusion, before she finally processed the fact that he had just made a joke, and smiled lightly.
With that, the prophet turned around and proceeded to walk toward the graveyard behind the decrepit building. But he got no further than a few steps, before Anastacia's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Prophet, wait.." the Keeper said
At this, the prophet turned back toward Anastacia just as she approached him once again. Then, with the small smile still on her face and a bashful look in her eye's, the Keeper quickly wrapped her arms around the prophets waist, pulling him into a very affectionate embrace. Once the prophet had recovered from his initial shock, he returned the embrace in kind. As the familiar warmth his body, the keeper couldn't stop herself from attempting to snuggle even closer to him.
"Hurry back." the Keeper said softly before releasing her hold on the prophets waist.
Giving her a caring smile, the prophet wordlessly turned around and proceeded to his destination.
A Great Deal of Time Earlier...
Hell.
That was the only word too describe what they had been through down this god-forsaken place. From the moment they set foot in the cemetary to the very second they walked down into its dark caves, it had been a constant battle for survival.
With an almost overwhelming darkness surrounding them at every turn and the seemingly endless hordes of vile skeletons constantly assaulting them, progress was slowed to a crawl. As it was, their only weapon capable of truly defeat any enemy being the blessed crescent axe wielded by Nico, so Vince and Petrus were only able to provide assistance by keeping the remaining enemies at bay with their maces. Reah, with no weapon to speak of, was responsible for healing any injuries the group may sustain.
Defeating each enemy one by one, the group eventually came upon a large tunnel that shined bright with sunlight.
"This way." Petrus said, beckoning them to travel through the tunnel.
Once they were though, the group was greeted with a sight that was just a beautiful as it was disheartening.
The area was filled with crossing stone pathways that hung high over bottomless pits. Looking over in the distance the group could see that the terrain stretched far into the distance and was littered with skeletal guards here and there.
"By the gods, this place is enormous." Vince said in awe.
"No doubt its teeming with even more of those skeletons." Petrus said. "Even with all our struggles, we've barely covered any ground. Perhaps it would be best if we turned back while we can."
"Hmm.." Nico mumbled.
At seeing the monumental size of the Catacombs, Reah found herself remembering the words of the so called prophet she encountered.
"Reah, please reconsider. You have no chance of retrieving like this."
The memory causing her to grow somewhat irritated.
"No. We will not turn back. It matters not what stands in our path or how many there are, we will prevail." Reah said, her will holding strong against the daunting task before her. "Now we have no time to waste, so let us continue."
With that, each one of the warrior gathered themselves. Vince and Nico both gave one another a worried glance, while Petrus glared slightly at the woman's naïve words. But despite each of their worries, all of them repositioned themselves back into their earlier formation, preparing themselves to face whatever adversary the Catacombs had waiting for them.
Present Time...
Walking through the familiar pathway that lead to the Catacombs and wielding both the Dragon Crest Shield and the Astora Straight sword, the prophet found himself very much dumbfounded. One would think that his mind would be focused on the previous battles he had with the few skeletons that lay in wait in near pitch black darkness. But as he stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking most of the area, those small skirmishes were the furthest thing from his mind.
"You've got to be kidding me." the prophet said as he gaped at the massive terrain in front of him, marveling at the substantial increase of its size. "Why the hell is everything freaking huge all of a sudden? If this place and the Valley of Drakes got this much of an upgrade, how big should I expect the Tomb of the Giants to be? Or more importantly, how big is Blighttown? Is it a just miles of freaking poisonous water filled with-. You know what, its probably best if I don't think about that right now."
Quickly pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind, the prophet gazed upon the area a moment more before he decided that this new information didn't change what had to be done. So steeling himself further, he proceeded forward to his left, where two skeletons stood waiting for him on a small walkway.
As he approached, one of the skeleton suddenly came to life and ran towards him. Having already had more than enough knowledge of these mindless drones, its was easy enough for the Prophet to raise his shield, defend against the attack and perform a swift counterstrike that caused the skeletons body to crumble into pieces. It wasn't a moment later that the remaining skeleton sprang to life and proceeded to attack by performing a series of rolls toward him.
Seeing this, the prophet could not help but give a slight chuckle.
"Heh, nice barrel roll, buddy." the prophet mocked at the incoming skeleton.
Casually raising his shield to blocked the blow, the prophet was caught completely off guard when the blade of the Falchion slammed into his shield with a surprising amount of force, actually causing him to grunt and strain himself to hold the blade in place. But after taking a moment to readjust himself, the prophet pushed the monsters blade back and, as it attempted to raise its blade once more, attacked it with a swift strike across its spine. Causing it to shatter and the blue light in its eye's to fade.
Taking a quick breath to regain himself, the prophet was quick to give himself a mental note.
"Well, that's one thing that hasn't changed. Separately, these things are manageable. But together its obvious that they'll becoming a major threat. I'll need Oscar and the others help if I actually want to get any loot from here." The prophet said to himself, rolling his now throbbing shoulder to make sure it wasn't hurt as he proceeded to walk to the side of a small bridge that lead towards what he knew would take him to a lone necromancer and a large amount of skeletons. But instead of crossing it, he walked towards the edge of its side and looked over the edge. "Alright. Jumping down these ledges should put me right at Pinwheels doorstep. But with the way things have changed, who's to say that Reah and her group even made it that far. What if their still in the Catacombs somewhere? or even worse, ran into patches at the bridge? Hell, they could already be dead right now and I'm risking my life for nothing."
His gaze steeling at this thought, the prophet had to force himself to take a small breath of air and think his next move over carefully.
"No. I can't think worry about hypotheticals right now. Going through the proper paths to look for them would take me way too long, not to mention has a much higher chance of getting me killed." The prophet said as he made his decision to move forward. "This way, at least I have the possibility of getting ahead of them or catching up too them faster."
Placing both the Straight Sword and the Shield inside the magic satchel, the prophet began the process of carefully dropping down a series of ledges. The first jump caused him to land on a broken bridge that lead to who knows where, the second caused him to land on a small ledge that had a corpse that glowed with a wispy, white aura, signaling that it held a small bundle of souls. But the prophet paid no attention to this as he searched the area for a certain summoning sign he knew was supposed to be there, yet finding that it seemed to be completely missing.
"Where's..?" the prophet started, before giving a annoyed sigh. "Should have expected something like this. Of course, Paladin Leeroy's summoning sign is gone. Because things can't ever be easy for me, can it?"
"AAAAAAAHHH!" a voice suddenly screaming from the large tunnel opening.
Hearing this the prophet quickly jumped off the small ledge, paying no mind to the souls that remained on the corpse.
The very second his feet hit the dirt, two skeleton creatures that seemed to be placed in between a large spiky wheel ran towards him, jumped forward and began rolling towards him with surprising speed. The Prophet, not foolish enough to ignore this incoming threat, hastily sidestepped the first Bonewheel and immediately dived forward to avoid the other.
"Dammit, I've got no time for this." the prophet thought as he quickly regained his footing.
Turning towards the large cave opening the prophet went into an all out sprint as the two skeletons followed suit, once again running forward before jumping into a roll. Swiftly gaining ground, it wasn't but a few moments before the prophet came upon a massive fog wall. Running straight through it, he found himself thankful that the wall still had the ability to stop pursuing creatures in their tracks.
"VINCE, HELP US!" a voice he recognized as Reah's screamed.
His heart now racing, the prophet charged forward and jumped down into approaching opening. Landing inside an area with its floor completely covered in water, he was met with a very surprising sight.
With her back turned towards him, Reah was cowering at the side of the unmoving, smoking body of Nico, with neither Vince nor Petrus in sight.
Standing in front of her, or rather completely surrounding her, were eight identical copy's of a very familiar black robed being. With six lanterns protruding from its body and wearing three different mask, one of a woman, a man, and a child, the figure towered over Reah's trembling form. It seemed that with everything going on between them, neither parties noticed the prophets arrival.
FWOOOSH
With the priestess now completely defenseless, the masked figure commanded one of his clones to bring all of its lanterns together, summoning an enormous fireball and firing it upon her helpless form.
Closing her eye's tightly, Reah could do nothing except wait for her inevitable end.
Not hesitating for a single moment, the prophet rushed in front of her, ignited both his hands with his own burning flames and, with small curse under his breath, intercepted the large fireball with both his hands, causing a heavy explosion of fire and dust to suddenly appear around them.
Opening her eye's at this sudden explosion and the surprising feeling of no pain enveloping her body, the priestess went wide eyed as the smoke cleared and she made out at who was now standing in front of her.
"Its...Its you." she said in a surprise.
"Ugh. Okay, I'll admit it." the prophet said through the pain of his now slightly burned hands. "That packed a bit more punch than I expected."
Pausing only a moment to recognize that yet another threat had appeared to disturb their work, Pinwheel wasted no time in commanding more of their clones to begin attacking once more.
That is until the prophet held up one of his hands and spoke in a hasty tone.
"Wait, Pinwheel, Stop! I know how to help fix your family!" the prophet said quickly, trying in getting necromancers attention. Seeing that they hesitated for a moment at hearing this, the prophet knew that it would probably be best if he explained himself fast. "My name is Kaylen, I'm a prophet. I know all about your burden of trying to free yourself and your family from one another."
"His what?" Reah questioned suddenly. "What are you talking abo-?"
"Reah, If you ever listen to anything I say, then do it now and shut up." the prophet said a bit angrily towards the cleric, fearing that she might ruin his efforts. This caused her to look upon him with a bit of fear and worry, before she complied. With that taken care of, the prophet turned his attention back towards the necromancer. "Listen to me Pinwheel, I understand that the only thing you're trying to do is fix your mistake. I can help you do that."
At this, a few heavy breaths could be heard from one of Pinwheels bodies, but it was impossible to tell from which. Seeing as they did not attack him, the prophet took this as his cue to continue.
"The knowledge you seek cannot be obtained with any normal means of research. If you travel to the land of the gods and access the knowledge inside the Dukes Archives, I'm sure you'd be able to find what you need. But you'll never get there on your own. I can guide you and your family there myself. In exchange, I only ask but one thing in return." the prophet said, knowing that this last part would be a significant issue. "Give me the Rite of Kindling and allow myself and this woman to leave."
At this, the masks on Pinwheel's face turned to one another with a look of silent questioning, before turning back towards the prophet and giving a very audible hiss. Hearing this, the prophet grew a bit angry, knowing that if they refused to do things peacefully, then he would be forced to do the unthinkable.
"Pinwheel, I'm warning you. It doesn't matter how many clones you throw at me, I only have to get lucky once to find the real you." the prophet said in a serious and grave tone. "I don't want to hurt you or your family in any way. In fact, I want to do everything in my power to help you. But if you choose to fight me, if you choose to walk this path... then I won't hold back."
The only response Pinwheel gave to this was to give an even louder hiss than before and to command all of his clones to multiply once more, making a total of sixteen copies. As they all ignited their lanterns in bright, burning fires, the prophet gaze hardened as he gave an angry growl of his own.
Pulling the Astora Straight Sword and the Dragon Crest Shield from his side, the prophet spoke in a remorseful, yet accepting tone.
"So be it then." he said in finality.
Reah sat horrified at what she was seeing. What did this man plan to do? Fight all of them alone? There was no possible way he would survive the encounter. As she thought this, the prophet turned and gave a halfway look back towards her and spoke.
"Hey, Reah. I need you to try and be safe while I handle this." the prophet said. "I'll try and protect you as much as I can, but I can't be everywhere at once."
With that said, the prophet turned away from the shocked look on the clerics face and readied himself for the battle.
It began as it always did. With that brief moment of silence and pause, neither side moving and inch.
Surprisingly enough, it was not Pinwheel or any of their clones that attacked first. It was the prophet who suddenly rushed forward directly in the center of the clones with his shield raised high, quickly ramming into one of them and impaled his sword straight through the chest of another, causing it to fade from existence as if it was never there at all. Quickly raising his shield once again to block a fiery attack coming from his left, the prophet allowed himself a brief moment to recover from the explosive force it gave off before choosing another clone at random and charging once again.
Cutting down target after target, the prophet had to take care not to remain in the same spot for more than a few seconds or he'd quickly be overwhelmed.
Compared to all his other battles, this fight was nothing. Though he did have to remain on his toe's to evade all of his pyromancy, Pinwheel's attack were slow, predictable and didn't even follow behind its target. It seemed that against a smart warrior, fireballs could only do so much. As he cut down clone after clone, not giving them a chance to copy any further, the prophets blade finally struck flesh once he had killed about twelve of the eighteen clones.
As he slashed across the creature chest, a shriek of pain erupted deep from its body.
"Found you!" the prophet said aloud as he charged forward once more, aiming an attack at Pinwheels legs.
Tearing through its flesh once again, Pinwheel shrieked once more before disappearing in a flash of light that emanated from its lantern. Appearing once again at the opposite end of the tomb, Pinwheel could not disguise the heavy trail of blood that stained the water at its feet a dark red.
Knowing he wouldn't need it for what he was going to do next, the prophet placed his shield back inside the satchel and summoned burning red flames along his left hand and wrist. With only six clones in between him and his target, the prophet charged into the fray once more, not giving him any chance to increase his numbers.
Running through, slashing and burning as he did so, the prophet destroyed all the remaining clones and was quickly gaining ground on Pinwheel. Panicking at the sheer impossibility of what they were seeing, Pinwheel gathered all of his power and unleashed a massive torrent of flame, washing over the prophets entire body in a blazing inferno. But the prophet, thinking quickly, covered himself in his own flames with the hope that it would somehow lessen the damage he would take and pushed through the massive wave of fire, running his sword straight through Pinwheels body.
The moment steel pierced flesh, the wave of fire halted and a screech of pain echoed throughout the temple once more, only this time the prophet refused to give him a chance to teleport. With all the force he could muster, the prophet forced the blade further into Pinwheels body, before roughly ripping it free, causing Pinwheel to falter forward. With his foe now momentarily lowered to his height, the prophet reached forward and grabbed the Mask of the Father in a firm grip, then ripped the mask from the necromancers face with a rough kick.
The effect of being without the mask were quickly evident. Unable to support the weight of his family without its power, the father quickly crumbled as he turned his back towards the prophet in an attempt to run away. Sparing no mercy, the prophet threw the mask of the father to the ground and leapt onto Pinwheels back, stabbing into his flesh once again with his blessed blade. As Pinwheel was reeling from this new agony, the prophet reached around and placed his hand underneath the Mask of the Child and tore it from the infants face.
Choking on the blood that was now flooding its body and no longer having the strength to hold their body, Pinwheels form went limp as it rolled onto its back. Now desperate and dying, the necromancer tried to ignite a flame in its lantern, with only a very faint light appearing as a result. The sight of it was pitiful. Most would likely only see it as a monster trying to survive, but the prophet could only see a man desperately trying his best to keep his family alive.
With only one mask left too take the prophet slowly approached the fallen form of Pinwheel. A part of him wish he could have just outright killed them and put them out of their misery, but his more cold hearted side told him to finish what he started and take the last damn mask for himself. He didn't like this train of thought, but accepted that these mask were powerful items that were far to valuable to go without.
"Just get it over with. Offering any words of apology now, after butchering them like this, would just be too cruel." the prophet thought to himself.
Now standing over the necromancers dying form, the prophet roughly placed his free hand on the Mask of the Mother, gripping it as tight as he could. Then, as he looked the mother directly in her eye's with a cold gaze, the prophet raised his blade and pierced it upward through their heart, tearing the final mask free as he did so.
Giving a few guttered, last breaths, Pinwheels body tainted the water with a deep crimson red, before it began to evaporate into multiple white wisp of souls.
"Your secrets die with you...damn fool." the prophet said in a low, almost remorseful tone as Pinwheels body evaporated completely and the souls entered his body. Leaving behind only a small scroll that emanated a dark red aura.
The prophet, already knowing what this must be, quickly retrieved the item from the floor and examined it.
Rite of Kindling
This secret rite allows bonfires to be bolstered further with Kindling, so that even more Estus can be collected.
Kindling was a sacred rite passed down among clerics, but all Undead can imitate the process in the same manner that they restore their Hollowing with humanity. How peculiar that humans had found little use for humanity until they turned Undead.
Sighing in disgust at the atrocity he had just committed the prophet took a moment of silence at the fallen family, before moving to collect each and every one of the mask he tossed to the side and placed them inside his satchel.
Turning back to the situation at hand, the prophet turned his gaze on a wide eyed Reah, who had not moved from Nico's side. She couldn't believe it. How had a lone man accomplished so easily what four others could not? As he approached her, Reah could not stop a small shiver of fear from crawling up her spine.
As he got closer, the prophet saw that Nico's flesh was burned beyond recognition and that he wasn't breathing, clearly it was too late to do anything for him.
"Are you alright?" the prophet said in a considerate tone, gaining no reply from Reah other than her continued stunned silence.
After a few moments of this, Reah had managed to regain a bit of her composure. Trying her best to shake away the anxiety she felt and speak clearly.
"You...Please, you must help me." Reah started in a panic. "My friend, Vince, he has-"
"He ran away and left you for dead." the prophet said with a bit of anger in his voice. He already had a sneaking suspicion of what she was about to ask from him.
"He..He did not, he just...he was just afraid. He and Petrus traveled up the ladder over there." Reah said, pointing toward a ladder that lead further upwards and out of Pinwheels domain. "We must go after them, they could be in danger."
The prophet actually looked a bit vexed at this suggestion.
"Go after them? Why the hell should I do something like that? Especially for a couple of cowards like those two?" the prophet said in a very annoyed tone. "As far as I'm concerned, their getting everything they deserve right now."
Now, Kaylen would usually be the first one to dive in head first to save another's life, but in this instance, he couldn't find a reason to care about what happened to Petrus or Vince. Besides, he had already retrieved of the Rite of Kindling. Not only that, he now had all three of Pinwheel's mask. There was no benefit for him to go any further and risk his life for two bastards who were willing to sacrifice others to save their own ass.
At hearing the prophets harsh words, Reah couldn't stop her eye's from tearing up slightly as a look of displeasure and confusion came across her face.
"But...You would not simply leave them to die, would you?" Reah said, feeling powerless in her efforts to save her friend.
"Why not? They seemed more than willing to let you and Nico be killed to save their own asses." the prophet countered. "I didn't think Vince would be capable of doing that, but if he's stooped that low, then I don't think he's worth saving."
Her eye's growing even wetter, Reah could feel a lump growing in he throat, almost choking her up.
"By the power granted to me by the great land of Thorolund, I-I demand that you-"
"Don't bother, Reah." the prophet interrupted in a humorless tone.
Clenching her fist at this, Reah look the prophet dead in his eye's, unwilling to allow herself to give up. Though her eye's could not hide that she was just holding back angry tears.
"F-fine then. Just give me a weapon and I shall go after them by myself." Reah said with finality.
This statement caught the prophet off guard, but he quickly composed himself from this and replied in a simple tone and unmoved tone.
"Okay." the prophet said simply with a nod of his head before twisting the Astora Straight Sword in a backhanded position and holding the handle out towards her. "There you go."
Taking the weapon in from him, Reah slowly walked past the prophets body and headed towards the ladder.
She got no further then a few steps before she stopped in her tracks. Looking at the path in front of her, her breathing suddenly grew heavy and her body was filled with such fear that she found herself unable to walk a single step further. And then she broke down entirely. Small tiny crystal beads creeped out of her eyes, one after another, soon it turned into a flowing stream of sorrow that ran down her face and dripped from her chin into her robe.
"If...If I say I was wrong...will you please come with me?" Reah said with her back towards the prophet, her voice cracking, no longer able to hide her sadness.
The prophet felt a great deal of guilt as he watched the effect his words had on her.
"Reah.." the prophet started. "The place Petrus and Vince ran into...its bad. Real bad. Even with my knowledge of the terrain, we likely wouldn't survive the trip with my current equipment."
Gripping the Astora Straight Sword tightly in her hands, Reah spoke once more.
"Please...Vince is all I have left now. He is the only thing connecting me to my old life." Reah said in an almost whimpering tone. "I am not blind. I know that the Church...sent us all here to die. But I had hoped that if we simply believed and put our faith in the gods...that we could truly prevail."
"But Reah, they left you to-"
"Do not judge them harshly, prophet. I am the one who dragged them here despite your warning. If anyone is to blame for this tragedy, it is I. It was my ignorance, my frailty that has sent them down this path." Reah said with finality as she turned around towards the prophet, her eye's boring into him. "Please, I'm beg of thee. It is not within my power to save them alone. I have not anything of monetary value to offer you, but I can teach you miracles in exchange for your aid."
The prophet gave a slight sigh before speaking once again.
"Reah...that won't be necessary." the prophet said.
This caused Reah's heart to drop. Even after hearing her plea's he would still refuse to help her?
"I-If that is not enough, then... then I could be useful in other matters." Reah pleaded further. "Is it souls you want? Take mine. I will give you...whatever you want of me. Just please-"
"Reah, calm down. I'm saying I'm going to help." the prophet interrupted.
"You will?" Reah said, her eye's growing wide with relief and joy at his words. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I will not forget this."
"Don't thank me just yet. This isn't going to be easy." the prophet warned as he pulled a Homeward bone from his satchel. "Here. Take this and get to safety."
"What?" Reah said in confusion. "No, I have to come with you."
"Out of the question. You barley survived the Catacombs and the Tomb of the Giants makes this place look like candy land." the prophet said.
"Vince does not trust unfamiliar faces easily. You will have a difficult time convincing him if I am not there to say otherwise." Reah explained simply. "I must travel with you."
At this, the prophet actually rolled his eyes.
"God, I really liked it better when things were simple." the prophet said, knowing that dealing with an uncooperative cleric in the Tomb of the Giants would probably end with both Vince and himself getting killed.
"What?" Reah questioned, somewhat confused by what he meant.
"Forget it." the prophet said, quickly dismissing the confused look on her face. "Look, if you insist on coming with me, then you need too stick close. Save for some lava in the distance, the area in the Tomb of the Giants is completely pitch black and the last thing you want to do is get lost in there. Also, if you see a pair of glowing eye's at any time, run the other way. Understand?"
Quickly shaking her head in understanding, Reah followed behind the prophet as he climbed the ladder towards what would eventually lead to the darkness he spoke of. Giving one last look at the charred body of her friend before leaving him behind.
Alrighty, bro's. That's it for this chapter. Stick around for some special info if you want.
I was originally going to end this with Velka and Gwyndolin have a nice discussion about the prophet and how Velka's dealing with the newly arrived Chosen Undead, but I decided to save that little chat for the next chapter. Bout time the prophet started getting on the gods radar.
Also, no one worry, I have not forgotten about Oscar and the others. And don't worry, they ill not be taking a back seat on this little adventure. I've been giving some serious thought about whether or not I should allow them to gain some new abilities of their own while they're performing their own mission. Although, I know that if I do, it will not be as substantial a power increase as the prophet and his Black Flames.
So if you guys have any thoughts about Oscar, Solaire's or Siegmeyer growth, feel free to let me know. I'm always open to some new idea's.
Well, that's all I got for ya. Hope you enjoyed the read.
Review and tell me what you guys thought of the chapter. I'm always looking to improve my style of writing and as always, you guys opinions will have a huge effect on the way this story plays out. So don't be shy.
This is Supreme Gamer, signing out.
P.S. I am sooo ready to get the prophet to Blighttown to me Quelaag. But storytelling prevents me from doing so. :(