Blade of the Maelstrom

Chapter One — The Lament of the Fading Petal

In the depths of the void, a seed of hope lies dormant, awaiting rebirth.

Malenia knelt, cool, ankle-deep water rippling around her. The scent of smoky incense wafted through the chamber, mingling with the tang of the Haligtree's timber. Flickering candlelight danced upon the damp walls, casting shifting shadows that animated stone and root. Her fingertips brushed the silk surface of the cocoon, nestled within the bark of the Haligtree's roots. Candlelight played upon her face, highlighting the determination in her eyes.

How much longer will your slumber endure, brother?

She bowed her head, lips moving in murmured prayers, and traced invisible patterns in the air. Her pleas for safety and return rippled in a soft echo, as breeze with no point of origin or end stirred the chamber. The sacred essence in the air grew stronger, drawing power from the thoughts and prayers of those who sought solace within the Haligtree.

How many dreams must you venture into to find the answers we seek?

She cast a quick glance around the sacred chamber, noting the play of sunlight on the blooming flowers. The petals swayed gently, their colors creating a kaleidoscope that reflected Miquella's golden hair. She took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrant aroma of the blossoms. Their essence enveloped her, connecting her to the life force pulsating through the roots of the Haligtree.

Can our destiny come to fruition without the eclipse?

She sighed and shook her head. "It matters not." She looked at the cocoon. "You will seek, and I will guard."

Yet, I miss you… More than I could ever say.

She rose, her gown clinging to her as it had on the day of her ascension. Water dripped from the fabric, each droplet a reminder of the tears she'd shed. Each footfall she took towards the exit echoed through water, stone, and wood. Her fingers trailed along the moss-covered walls.

"I will come back tomorrow". She clasped the handle of the sanctum doors.

The great roots and the cocoon nestled between them stayed as silent as her own unanswered questions.

With a final glance over her shoulder, she stepped out of the chamber. The wooden door closed with a soft thump softly, sealing the sanctum from the world beyond. She walked up a spiraling staircase of white marble. Each step resonated in harmony with the rustle of leaves and flowers growing on the walls. Her hand glided along the smooth surface of the marble, and the air brimmed with the sweet scent of lilies.

The staircase took her from the depths of the Haligtree roots to the throne room at the pinnacle of Elphael, Brace of the Haligtree.

Stained-glass windows adorned the walls, and sunlight streamed through them in intricate patterns. The air hummed with a quiet energy, carrying the delicate murmurs of advisors and the soft shuffle of servants as they performed their tasks, their footsteps melding into a melody.

She sat upon a throne of roots and thorns. Its essence penetrated through her body, and its jagged edges scratched at her dress of crimson and gold. She clenched the knobs of wood and scanned the chamber. The scent of polished wood and the fragrance of distant snow swirled in the air. Tapestries showing the history of the Golden Order and the creation of the Haligtree hung along the walls.

"Your Grace." A servant girl bowed before her. "Councilman Alaric has urgent news. He awaits for you to receive them at your leisure."

She inclined her head at the girl. "Thank you, Lilia. Send him in."

She sat upright on her throne, her back straight and her expression composed. The grand entrance creaked open, and councilor Alaric walked into the throne room, his head bent. Green robes adorned with falling leaves adorned his tall frame, and gray hairs dominated his short hair and beard.

"Your Grace." His voice resonated through the chamber. "I bring urgent reports from the Consecrated Snowfield. Our scouts and rangers have detected increased activity and disturbances at the outer edges of our territory, specifically to the southwest."

A chill ran down her spine. Her eyes narrowed as she bit her lip to keep it from trembling. She leaned forward, her palms pressing firmly against the armrests. "What kind of disturbances?"

"We're not certain yet, Your Grace. Something is disrupting the wildlife and the natural balance of the Consecrated Snowfield. Rumors are circling among the Albinaurics of the area of dark figures moving in the night, but we lack specific details regarding their intent or origin."

Malenia's grip on the wooden armrest tightened, her knuckles turning white. The room seemed to grow colder, as if the icy breath of the Consecrated Snowfield had permeated the chamber.

This is troubling news. If father somehow got wind of our plans…

"I want a detailed investigation conducted immediately."

Councilor Alaric nodded. "We have already dispatched additional scouts and patrols to gather more information, Your Grace. They will also ensure the safety of our borders and act as a deterrent against any hostile incursions."

"Your initiative pleases me, Councilor. However, scouts and patrols will not be enough." She tapped her fingers against the throne. "To not only find but manage to infiltrate the Consecrated Snowfield requires more than stealth. Deeper, older magic is at play here, though of which kind, I cannot say."

"What does Your Grace command me?"

"Send Loretta to the scene. Perhaps the teachings of Raya Lucaria will shed some light on this matter."

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Fate is unraveling, Alaric. Trapped as it is among the stagnant stars, Fate is giving place to chaos. We cannot afford to fail here. I dare not ponder the consequences should we allow this kind of anarchy to move forth unhindered." She shook her head and looked down. "Gather the Albinaurics as well. Send their most skilled mages and seers with Loretta and scour the Haligtree for any soul that came here from Selia."

Councilor Alaric bowed deeply, his robe rustling softly against the cold stone floor. "As you command, Your Grace."

She exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the chilled air. "Act swiftly, Councilor. The power of the Haligtree must not fail this test. Bring any development to me immediately, no matter how small or insignificant."

"I would rather die than fail you, Your Grace."

"Of that, Councilor, I have no doubt."

As Councilor Alaric left with his head bowed, Malenia fixed her eyes on the grand tapestry that adorned the wall above the grand entrance. It depicted a great tree rising from ashes and snow, its branches supporting entire cities and its bark gleaming gold.

She leaned back in her throne, the rough bark and thorns biting into her back. Things had come into motion that nothing could undo. She had no idea where, or how, but the gears of Fate were moving in ways unbound by the lack of stellar motion. Whether it was the meddling of Outer Gods or the ambition of lesser beings, something was pulling on the delicate threads of the grand tapestry of destiny.

The only question is if it will prove good or ill for us. Miquella, what would—

~ CLANG ~

The clamor sliced through her thoughts like a hot blade through the delicate weave of silk. An alien force, brimming with raw, unfettered potency, permeated through the ether. It was an energy that defied the constraints of the physical world, drifting on unseen currents, echoing into every crevice of the world.

~ CLANG ~

She went rigid on the throne of roots and thorns, her heart hammering a violent rhythm against her ribcage. High above the grand entrance, the tapestry fluttered with unseen energy, its colorful threads dancing like captured spirits. Yet, the air within the vast throne room remained as still as death itself.

What... is this?

~ CLANG ~

She reached out with divine energy, her senses sprawling beyond the ornate walls of the palace. She searched for answers within the heartbeat of the Haligtree, in the gentle whispers of the wind, and within the ceaseless murmur of the rivers. The world spoke back in a tumultuous choir of sensations, an overwhelming vortex of raw, disordered energy that threatened to consume her.

Something is happening in the Erdtree.

The core of the world was pulsing in tandem with the heartbeat of the Erdtree, and the golden tears of the Greater Will fell upon the fabric of reality. Then it happened — a surge of energy so immense it made her gasp, her fingers crushing the bark of the throne's armrests into splinters.

The Elden Ring...

The Elden Ring's essence was disintegrating, shattering, tearing apart. Each fracture echoed through the cosmos like a primal scream, a lament of anguish. The Elden Ring, once a beacon of unity and power, was now being rendered asunder, its fragments flung across the cosmos like shards of a shattered mirror.

Greater Will, have mercy.

At the heart of this swirling chaos, a singular presence stood out. Her mother. Her mother's screams harmonized with the dying echoes of the Elden Ring. She hammered the breaking Elden Ring upon an anvil deep inside the Erdtree, shredding the established order of the world in a storm of gold and power.

With a dry throat, Malenia forced out a whisper into the silent room. "Mother... What... have you done?"

The wrath of the Greater Will thundered through the ethereal, divine layer of the world like a storm of golden fire. Malenia couldn't withdraw her consciousness from it. It threw hurricanes over the sea, snowstorms over mountains and hills, and thunderstorms over forests and plains. Yet, as the world shivered in the throes of chaos, something started pulling at Malenia.

Something soft tugged at the edge of her consciousness, a thread of order in the midst of chaos.

Gritting her teeth, she steeled herself and focused on the sensation. It was an oscillation, a unique pulsation that stood out from the cacophony of discordant energies. A single violin note piercing through the thunderous discord of a brass orchestra.

With a single grunt of exertion, she extended her hand.

The world around her convulsed and twisted as if existing behind distorted glass. The throne room, with its gilded pillars and grand frescoes, faded into oblivion. An endless expanse of cosmic void, a realm of nothingness, stars, and ghostly trees replaced it. At the center of this expanse, a radiant beacon pulsated.

A shard… A shard of the shattered Elden Ring.

It floated in the void, its luminosity piercing through the nothingness, painting the void with a medley of colors. A torch in the dark, a symbol of the celestial harmony that once held the cosmos together. It hummed, each pulse sending a wave of energy that vibrated through the cosmic emptiness.

It called to her, like a mother to a lost child. It recognized her, resonated with her.

It was hers.

She lay open her palm. "Come to me."

With a gentle drift, it moved towards her, shrinking as it neared until it was no more than a flickering starlight in her palm. It landed delicately on her open hand, spreading warmth up her arm and bathing her face in a soft glow.

Fortune has favored us today, Miquella. She smiled. The path to releasing the stars from Radahn's clutches is no longer closed to us.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting an auburn glow over the ash and desolation of the Forbidden Lands. Malenia led her army through the mist, their boots thumping against stone and snow. The outer walls of Leyndell stood before them, colossi of white granite and gold. Shadows stretched and danced over them, extensions of the fading light.

Oh, Leyndell. How long has it been?

She ordered a halt and rode to the foot of the wall alone.

"Let me pass." Her voice rang out on the wind, smashing against the stone. "I come not as an enemy, but as a sister seeking transit through lands I once called home."

None responded.

Her gaze darted across the battlements, and she dissected every nook and cranny for sign of movement. Seconds ticked, and her gaze did not falter. Whoever was in charge couldn't afford to leave the walls bordering the Forbidden Lands undefended, regardless of whether the main army was in the city or not.

"You, who once called these lands home, have returned with an army at your back." A figure emerged from a watchtower above, his glimmering golden armor clinking with each step. "How can you claim not to be our enemy?"

"Greetings to you, Tree Sentinel." She took a step closer. "Our purpose is not within Leyndell. Nor is it on the vast, golden expanse of the Altus Plateau. Let us pass."

"Never before has an army passed our borders." The knight smashed his great halberd against the stone. "It shall not do so now."

"Please." She grit her teeth. "Don't make me kill those I once loved."

Can they not see that my intentions are pure?

"Archers!"

She growled and rode back to her forces.

"The keepers of Leyndell refuse us passage. We must take it by force." She raised her head and clenched her sword. "Soldiers of the Haligtree, hear my command. We will not slaughter them without need. We are here to pass, not conquer. Kill whom you must, disable and disarm all others."

Thousands of voices thundered as one. "Yes, Your Grace!"

The sun vanished behind the horizon, and flaming boulders flew from the battlements. Malenia ordered her soldiers to follow her and surged forward, murmuring a prayer for those about to die. With impact of the massive projectiles, the ground beneath her feet quivered, and blood spurted from those the stones crushed.

Such needless struggle. Lives lost. Dreams shattered. How many more must fall for no reason other than stubbornness?

The knights of the Haligtree unleashed their own barrage as they ran. Arrows streaked through the air like angry hornets, seeking out their marks among the defenders. The twang of bowstrings and the cries of the wounded merged into an uproar that exploded through the air like a raging river.

They fight so bravely.

The defenders poured boiling oil on Malenia as she reached the wall. She slammed her fingers into the stone and threw herself up, dodging oil, arrow, and spear. The acrid scent of smoke and the metallic tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She tightened her grip on her sword and flew as if water given wings.

Sacrifice paves the path to victory.

She landed on the battlements and pounced on the defenders. Her blades danced in a symphony of steel, the anguished screams of those dying to her blade playing the melody. She slashed with precision and grace, leaping from soldier to soldier like wind given form. Blood marred her skin and tainted her lips, and her divine sight brimmed with the putrid energy of death.

With thunderous cries, her soldiers came behind her and formed rank on the crimson stained stone. Steel, sorcery, and the miracles of the Golden Order descended upon the battlements of Leyndell. The defenders fell in droves, and the might of the Haligtree cut scars upon the very granite they were fighting on.

In pursuit of victory, we tread upon the fragile threads of existence.

She cast one final gaze over the blood-soaked battlements. The fallen bodies of the defenders lay strewn about, the echoes of their screams still hanging in the air. She took in a deep breath, the scent of iron and smoke sharp in her nostrils.

She raised her sword. "Onwards!"

Her soldiers roared in response.

The army of Haligtree surged forward, their armored forms rippling like a river of steel. She rode ahead of them, her own form glowing crimson amidst the desolation. The northern outer wall loomed ahead of them, a towering edifice of white and gold.

The battered forces of Leyndell stood arrayed in formation in the narrow gap between the outer and inner walls.

Even now, you will not move?

"Archers!"

The archers of Haligtree responded, pulling back on their bows, the thrum of strained strings filling the air. With a flick of her hand, Malenia signaled the release. The sky darkened as a rain of arrows descended upon the defenders.

As the arrows flew, Malenia ran towards the enemy forces, her blade gleaming under the light of the motionless stars. Her soldiers followed her lead, their cries echoing among the stone walls.

They smashed into the enemy line just after the arrows decimated them.

The defenders met them with the fury of cornered beasts, their weapons lashing out in a desperate frenzy. They were no match for the disciplined might of the Haligtree. Malenia and her soldiers cut through them with calculated precision, their blades leaving trails of blood in the snow.

With every cut, her heart panged.

I offered them the chance to end this peacefully.

Leaving a throng of corpses behind her, Malenia reached the northern outer wall. No defenders remained. No traps. No fortifications. The wall was meant to repel attacks from the outside, not within.

The day was theirs.

I wonder who killed that Tree Sentinel.

As the one that insisted on defying her, he would be here to challenge her if he were still alive.

I suppose it doesn't matter.

She raised her sword. "The gate is ours!"

Liurnia stretched before Malenia, its rugged terrain shrouded in a thick mist that enveloped her like a damp cloak. The mist clung to her armor, and chill slithered down her spine. The caress of heavy air lingered on her face.

Her eyes furrowed as she surveyed the surroundings, scanning the landscape for any sign of danger.

Skirmish parties snipped at them from the mist all throughout Liurnia. Her forces dispatched them with ease. Every time they did, the clash of swords reverberated through the air, their metallic symphony mingling with the grunts and cries of battle. Blood stained the ground, its iron scent merging with the earthy aroma of damp soil.

Beads of smoky water clung to leaves and branches. They sparkled like scattered diamonds, reflecting the pale light that managed to pierce through the fog. She reached out, grazing her fingers against a droplet-slicked leaf, letting the moisture cool her skin. She took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet aroma of vegetation and wildflowers.

As she arrived beneath the tall cliffs of Stormveil, where they were to cross into Limgrave, she found her road blocked.

Godrick the Grafted stood at the forefront of his army, his towering form a stark silhouette against the tumultuous highway bridge. She raised her hand, and her army halted.

"Step aside, Godrick." She slowed her horse down to a stride. "My fight is not with you."

"You dare command me?" A sneer twisted Godrick's features, his gaze narrowing as he spat upon the ground. "You? You are the same malformed abomination as your brother, unworthy of the power you wield."

Her prosthetic fingers tightened around the hilt of her blade, the metal knuckles creaking. "Onwards."

The Haligtree army erupted like thunder, and their charge reached Godrick's forces before they could blink. The ground trembled beneath the weight of combat, as the knights and men at arms of Stormveil fell upon the grass puppets with their strings cut, their blood bursting above like rain.

Among this slaughter, Malenia locked in on Godrick.

In a single moment of precise maneuvering, she disarmed him and placed her blade against his neck before he could even blink.

He fell to his knees. "Mercy! Show me mercy, my noble princess."

This is supposed to be a descendant of the Golden lineage?

She looked at him with an impassive face.

Mother, may you never see what has become of your line.

Slowly, she withdrew her blade, the sound of steel sliding slicing flesh filling the air. She stepped back, leaving Godrick kneeling in the mud with a single crimson line upon his neck.

"Pitiful." She shook her head. "A coward and weakling such as yourself deserves not to die by my sword."

He crumbled further, his body sinking deeper into the mire. "Thank you, most graceful of all demigods."

"Pray we never meet again."

Without another word, she strode past him and led her forces past Stormveil and Limgrave beyond. The sky cleared, revealing the first twinkling stars of night, a celestial tapestry seemingly within her reach.

She inhaled the crisp night air, her lungs filling with the scent of victory and the promise of impending destiny.

As she reached the edges of Caelid, she smiled.

The stars were at the tip of her fingers.

Malenia braced herself at the very edge of the battlefield. The stench of death and decay seeped into her nostrils, and the air brimmed with the tang of blood and bile. Her long crimson tresses danced in the wind's wails, stirring the ashen sky in a swirling pattern.

She raised her sword as metal clashed behind her. With a flick of her arm, her knights began their advance. Their armor creaked and groaned as they moved forward, and the Scarlet Rot sang from within them.

How long has this battle been going on?

She glanced at the golden needle embedded into her flesh.

Miquella… Are you proud of me?

As the flanks of Radahn's army clashed against the Haligtree forces, his center wave charged at her. Thousands of boots thundered against the earth. Dirt and splinters of wood flew through the air. Soldiers' swords glittered in the red sun, their battle songs echoing through the valley of Aeonia.

Flesh of my enemies, beware. You rot already, you simply don't know it yet.

She catapulted into the chaos, blood splashing against her skin as she sliced through foe after foe. The dying screamed around her, their howls and cries merging into a symphony. Arrows, shields, and spears littered the damp earth.

She deflected an incoming blow and plunged her sword into the attacker's chest. Tissue and organs flooded out as she withdrew her blade, the lifeless body crumpling to the ground. Steel clashed against steel as she parried and struck. She cut through flesh as if through paper. Her ears rang with the melody of battle, and her heart bellowed with the song of war.

In the distance, Radahn's form towered over everyone else atop a distant hill. The lions on his armor snarled, and his crimson man fluttered in the wind. His cloak billowed behind him, revealing two greatswords of gold and obsidian.

Her eyes narrowed, and the battlefield around her faded as she surged towards him.

Why couldn't you just negotiate brother?

Why not release the stars willingly?

Why force me to do this?

She smashed into him with the force of a ballista bolt. Sparks flew as she slashed at him, her weapon a single line of sharpness. With each strike, energy pulsed through her muscles like an electric shock.

He lunged forward, but she sidestepped and spun around. Her sword flashed in the sunlight. She aimed for his back. As he turned to block, she landed on his chest and leaped away. She moved with speed and grace, darting in and out of range, striking with precision and retreating before he could retaliate.

This wind is making it harder to move with precision. But I can use it to carry my strikes with more force.

He smashed his swords at her, hitting the ground when she dodged. The force of the blow cracked the earth beneath them and sent her flying backwards. The wind from his strike rattled her prosthetic arm's screws. He stood like a mountain. Each strike he let loose wrecked the landscape like an explosion.

You're strong, brother, but slow. I can outmaneuver you.

She feigned a thrust to his chest, and he shifted his weight to his left side. She slashed at his exposed leg and severed his tendon, but pain jolted up her arm. She focused on her breathing, and each following slice targeted his joints and neck.

Miquella, I will get you your eclipse.

Radahn's swords raced through the air, his grunts and heaves punctuating their movement. Their blades shimmered beneath the setting sun. Metal collided with metal, echoing like drums. Inhaling and exhaling created a rhythmic chorus.

I can't keep this up forever…

With each passing moment, her body grew heavier. Sweat slithered down her skin, and her lungs stung. Her breaths came in short gasps as she parried an incoming blow.

But neither can he.

~ Clang ~

Her prosthetic arm buckled and twisted under the force of Radahn's attack, sending a jolt of pain up her shoulder. She gasped as metal crunched and broke, and the world swirled around her in a blur.

Muscles burning, she sprang into the air.

She soared above him. The obsidian metal of his swords glinted in the crimson sun as he swung at her again. She twisted and turned, her body moving with the grace and precision of a dancer, and the sword whistled harmlessly through the air below her.

Panting, she landed on his shoulder, her remaining arm aching from the strain.

Now or never.

In a moment that lasted forever, she stabbed her sword through his shoulder, the grinding metal screeching in protest. Malenia met Radahn's gaze, and her heartbeat lodged itself in her throat. Spit and blood filled up her mouth, and the scent of iron and dirt permeated the air.

Stalemate.

The fight rests at the tip of a knife.

Miquella… Forgive me.

She clasped the Unalloyed Gold Needle in her flesh and threw it away.

The Scarlet Rot exploded within her once more, it's crimson roots rushing to every bit of her being. It writhed within her, the Divine Essence of an Outer God overtaking her and drowning her. Her spirit fell into a lake of burning blood, stagnant and stinking of rot and decay. She no longer rejected it.

Come forth.

The Scarlet Flower rose from her back, its tendrils swirling like snakes. It bloomed with thunder and light, an expulsion of decay and crimson mist. Tendrils of corruption snaked through the air and engulfed everything in their path. Radahn staggered back, his eyes widening as the rot crept over his armor, cracking and peeling under the onslaught of corrosion.

The air around her thickened, infused with the stench of putrefaction and corrosion. The ground beneath her feet vibrated with the force of her power, sending ripples of energy through the battlefield.

As the Scarlet Rot spread, the landscape transformed. The grass withered and crumbled, and Aeonia became a lake of crimson water. The landscape around it turned into a sea of blackened soil and twisted, thorny vines. The trees became gnarled and skeletal, their bark cracked and peeling, and their leaves rotting away. Soldiers on both sides succumbed to the Rot, their flesh melting off their bones their voices blended into a cacophony of screams.

Her skin stung. Her breaths came in gasps, her lungs burning with each inhale. Her vision blurred, the edges of her sight darkening as if the world around her was fading away.

The weight of her sword slipped from her grasp, the cold steel clattering to the ground.

The sounds of the dying battlefield seemed to ebb, distant and muted, as her strength waned.

Her vision blurred, and her eyelids drooped. The ground beneath her feet started trembling and quaking, as if she were standing on a vibrating plate. The air around her twisted and churned, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

As she tried to steady herself, a low hum began to fill her ears, growing louder and more intense by the second. A thousand bees buzzing in unison, making her eardrums tremble and her teeth chatter. The scent of hot iron and the sickly-sweet aroma of rotting flowers slung in the air.

Her mouth dried up, and the salt of sweat fell upon her tongue. A pressure began building in her head, like the onset of a migraine, and her thoughts became jumbled and confused.

In front of her, the fabric of reality tore apart, splitting open like a wound. The rift widened into a void of deep purple light and shadow. A kaleidoscope, in which colors and shapes twisted and turned in a dance of wind and rain.

Miquella…

Crimson tendrils reached out from the void, grabbing her, her prosthetics, and her blade.

Please make it without me.

The tendrils pulled her in.

That's it for chapter one. Hope you enjoyed it.

Let me know what you thought about it in the reviews. I look forward to every single one.

Also, check out my p. a. t. r. e. o. n. at: user?u=53437875 (just paste that after p. a. t. r. e. o. n. / (don't forget to remove the spaces)). I'll be posting some cool stuff on there, and plenty of it will be free.

See you at chapter two!