Raya Lucaria is a place of learning for all with the talent to achieve it. Hopes and dreams are constantly brought to life and crushed there, like a cycle that the Academy sorcerers could never get enough of.
That day, within the confines of the Grand Library, a new hope is kindled.
"I thank you truly, my apprentice," Sellen said, her breath coming out rapidly.
The Tarnished nodded, satisfied as he hilted his Moonveil and pocketed his staff on his back. Behind them, Jerren's headless body lay motionless in a puddle of his blood. His head had flown quite the distance, toppling down stacks of books and staining their pages with crimson. In truth, Sellen was impressed. Her apprentice had slain the Witch-Hunter with a mixture of her sorcery and his own swordsmanship, a stunning display that never failed to awe her. As she leaned on her staff, trying to get back her bearing, her apprentice silently tilted his head in Rennala's direction. He was asking what she wanted to do with the former Queen, she inferred.
"I'm not going to kill her, if that's what you're thinking." She said. Even now, the woman was cradling the egg in her arms, whispering sweet nothings into it; a sight that never failed to disgust her. "Even in this pathetic state of hers, she can still be useful to my cause... to your cause as well." She suddenly said, drawing his attention back to her.
"My cause? I don't see how she can help me become the Elden Lord."
"Because she can help me and, in turn, I shall help you." She then widened her arms as she looked around the room. To that end, she could already hear his gears turning in his head. "For I will be the new Queen of Raya Lucaria and I will usher in this backward Academy into a future of prosperity, unimpeded by fears of the unknown. When that day comes, my apprentice—which I assure you, it will—I will offer you the unbending loyalty of all of Raya Lucaria." She vowed, her words burning strongly, like the wax to their pact. The Tarnished had no doubt that she would keep her end of the promise, of course, so there was no qualms as he nodded to it.
"I cannot wait for that day to come." He offered his hand, to which his master immediately took it. After their hands separated and he turned on his heels to leave, Sellen had a brave thought.
"Wait a minute, my apprentice!" She yelled, not waiting for a response as she jogged off to the end of the room. She eventually reached a large series of shelves by the end of it; pulling on one at the level of her head, she reached her hand over and her skin clutched against cold steel. 'So it's still here.'
Pulling it out, she took a moment to smile at it. The object was a short dagger with a golden handle and a single gemstone attached to the middle of it, while the blade itself was curved. The steel was smooth to a fault; it was never meant for battle, after all. Doubtless, it would chip and shatter after only a few skirmishes. Nay, it was more of a ceremonial weapon, forged at the time to signify the Academy's blooming relationship with Leyndell, the Royal Capital.
Today, it would be used for the same purpose.
Sellen turned and hid the dagger behind her. Walking up to the Tarnished, smiling at the confused expression on his face, she showed him the blade and waited expectantly.
"What's that?" He said, his answer causing her eyes to widen behind her stony mask.
"Seriously?" She shook her head, making a sound of disapproval. "I taught you that during your lesson exactly 17 days ago, my apprentice! How could you forget already?"
He chuckled while he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. Sellen sighed but nevertheless gave him the dagger, explaining the context behind it as she did. Hearing this, the Tarnished warrior tightly gripped the handle and ran his finger across the curved steel. Staring at his master, he bowed. "Thank you for the gesture, master. I'll be sure to ask someone to make a hilt for this." Sellen nodded approvingly at his words. As the Tarnished straightened his back, he waved his goodbye. "I should go now. I'm going to make my journey to Leyndell now, to the foot of the Erdtree."
With that said and done, he once again turned and headed for the colossal doors. He went out with the doors closing behind him, plunging the room into almost complete darkness. Casting Starlight, setting a light bobbing atop her head, she gazed at the mountains of books that surrounded her. Behind her mask, she smiled.
In one of these, surely... there would be a hint to the Primeval Current.
It was a cathartic feeling as he watched the entirety of Leyndell in the distance. His journey from the Grand Lift of Dectus, through hordes of soldiers, Tree Sentinels, and all manner of monstrosities was undoubtedly difficult; the fact that he couldn't use Torrent while he was within Leyndell did not make the task any easier. This was why he relished the moment when he sat on the throne that overlooks all of Altus, the throne that proves one has obtained the title of Elden Lord — even if he hasn't obtained the title yet, not truly... it felt good to imagine the moment.
The world bowed down to him, the new Elden Lord. Sorcerers of the various studies of magic lined the edges of the elevated platform with Sellen, his master, right beside him.
On that line of thought...
He took out the Glintstone Kris and played with it, his mind wandering to his master. How was she doing now, he wondered. Has she already subjected the Academy to her will? Knowing her, she should have already done that by now, but just in case she hasn't... it wouldn't hurt for him to lend a helping hand.
Just as he smiled simply at the image of him aiding Sellen, his ears perked up. He was snapped out of his musing by the raspy breaths wheezing just below him.
"I thought you were already dead. But it turns out you were still alive." Said the Tarnished, leaning his body forward as he looked down on the thin, shrivelled body of Morgott. This felt great as well. The sight of the Omen King, the so-called Last of Kings, writhing at his feet... his spine shivered from his achievement. "Well, not for long."
"Y-You..."
Curious, the Tarnished leaned closer to his gasping words. "Yes?"
"...wi-will..." He coughed, yet his eyes bore into the Tarnished with the hate of a thousand suns. His last words thinned into a whisper, to the point where the Tarnished couldn't even hear it. The spark in the man's gaze fizzled out into the cold look of death.
Nevertheless, a moment later, the Tarnished understood the effect of his words.
After all, every creature, no matter how malformed or imperfect they may be, is connected to the roots of the Erdtree itself. It was a force that no being, mortal or Demigod, could hope to resist — he was no exception.
He let out a stifled scream as his entire being shook and trembled, pain filling every corner of his nerves. He could feel a force pulling, tugging at the very essence of his mana... and by the end of it, he knew something very, very wrong began to restrict his mana. Lying on the throne, breathless, he lifted his finger and with all his might, tried to create a spark — or something, at least — of magic...
He can't, though.
Whatever spell he thought of conjuring, his mana had been sealed away completely, so that was a brittle effort.
But it was within that process when the Tarnished noticed something glowing on the back of his hand. It seemed like some kind of rune, bringing forth a flicker of hope. Just like when Marika the Eternal shattered the Elden Ring, the Tarnished knew runes were breakable; the only thing he needed to do was find out how.
There was no time to waste, then. Getting up from his seat, he stepped over Morgott's corpse and headed for the Site of Grace dotted at the centre of the platform. Crouching down in front of it, he closed his eyes and thought of where he wished to go...
The next moment, he opened his eyes to find himself within the confines of the Grand Library. His eyes darted to the centre, his mouth already open. "Master! I have a..." His words slowly left him as he was not greeted with the sight he expected.
He could not see a single sign of Sellen's presence. The centre of the room was once again filled by Rennala's figure, still clutching onto the egg in her arms, a sight that should not be possible if his master had any say in it. But what if she didn't?
Fearing the worst, he drew the Moonveil and slowly encroached forward; he may no longer have access to mana, but he wasn't a pure mage. He wielded both a blade and a staff, not as a Jack but as an Ace of each. It was a deadly combination. He was currently at the entrance, so his vision was limited only to Rennala's figure, a fact that served enough of a reason for him to be tense all the way through.
When his surroundings expanded into shelves and lit candles, he took his eye off Rennala and drew his gaze around the room. There didn't seem to be any threats- His eyes widened then, shock filling his core. Off to the side of the room, lay a new presence that he was quite familiar with: Graven Masses. They were a mesh of sorcerers, their masks morphed with sunken eyes and mouths screaming silently as if begging to be freed of their bindings. He has seen them all throughout his journey, their exteriors durable due to the stone that composes them, but they weren't much in terms of danger. The sight of it wasn't what shocked him, however. Nay, it was the one single difference he instantly spotted among the protruding faces.
"Master...?"
Upon that realization, his blade clattered onto the floor as he walked forward, as if in a trance. His eyes were wide, unable to believe that his master's mask remained stuck to the mass; her serene expression, differing so greatly from the cacophony of mortified sorcerers, only served to make the moment seem so fantastical.
And it should be, right? A mere fantasy? A dream? Because how else could it explain the sight in front of him? Sellen was the Graven Witch, the creator of the Graven Masses, so how could she ever fall to her own devices? It made little sense!
Unfortunately for the distraught Tarnished, a noise broke through his denial.
"My... apprentice... I..." Her voice was familiar yet distorted by the shaking cracks in her voice. It was both jarring and acrid to his ears.
His shock was short-lived. Soon enough, there was a torrent of questions, but the crux of it all was: "How did this happen to you?"
To that end, a groan continuously stilled her words. It was clear that she wished to answer... only that something must have been inhibiting her from doing so. It's not the end of the world, he thought as he looked over his back; aloft as ever, Rennala sat at the centre, caressing the egg in her arms.
Standing in front of her, he coughed to gain her attention.
"What is it, little sweeting? Do you wish to be reborn?" Her voice sang softly.
"No. I have a question." He said. Rennala slowly looked up at the Tarnished as he pointed to the Graven Mass in the distance. "What happened to my master? To Sellen? You were here the entire time; you must know something about what happened."
"Of course." Rennala quickly replied, surprising the Tarnished.
He didn't expect her to be so pliant. He expected her to resist, a petty attempt that would lead to yet another fight he would surely win. Even as he listened attentively to her explanation, he couldn't deny that there was a hint of disappointment bubbling inside of him. Just a smidge, though.
"I always remembered dear Sellen to be a deeply obsessive woman. She spent every day toiling in her research of the Primeval Current, confining herself to the Grand Library. To this place. She hasn't changed much. After she took over Raya Lucaria, her first order to all was the freedom to research whatever their heart desires. As it turns out, many had the same view as her, as they too desired to delve deeper into the Primeval Current. What happened next... I only know that there were screams and the surge of the sea and nothing else, for I was buried aplenty behind the books and curtains. I could only hear their whispers, not witness their actions. When the chaos was over, I eventually went past the shelves..."
"Only to find my master as a Graven Mass."
"The rest of the Academy sorcerers meshed into it, as well." Rennala nodded. "But yes. That is what happened."
The Tarnished took the news with thoughtful silence. He always knew his master was ambitious. He supported it, even helped her when it came to giving her a body or killing Jerren. But to think it would lead to a fate like this... He turned to the mass, his eyes observing the cold features of Sellen's mask. Was she happy with her fate? Was this what she had always wanted?
In truth, he did not know.
But he desires to know.
To better understand Sellen and to find a way to free her... he now found that desire inside of him, burning with greater intensity than even his goal to become the Elden Lord. It would take time, he knew. He also knew that, if he were to go down this path, the door leading to the Elden Lord may close.
But his desire did not involve the closing of that door.
And so, with a newfound obsession coursing through him, his eyes set themselves resolutely upon the figure of Sellen. 'I will free you, my master. So please... wait for that moment to come.'
Rennala watched all of this proceed, her mind coming to a quick understanding of his current train of thought. It was hard not to when the grief in his eyes seemed especially familiar to her. As the seconds ticked away, watching the Tarnished bury himself in books through her lidded eyes, she wondered whether or not to extend a helping hand. She didn't wish for another to fall into the same dark pit as her... Before she could come to a firm decision, her ears perked up as her child's whispers entered her ears.
Oh, what was she thinking?
She needs to take care of her child, her last vestige of her beloved Radagon.
"Of course, my sweeting. Mother's love will always care for you, from now until forever..."
Somewhere within the plains of Limgrave, a cloaked figure could be seen stalking the outskirts of ancient ruins. The figure, silent as a mouse, trudged through the grassy plains and into the ash-ridden ruins. Her one open eye stared impassively at the sight that greeted her... but her fists, clenching to the point of bleeding, betrayed her sentiment.
Graven Masses litter the ruins, themselves a familiar sight but with one distinct difference: the masses were not made of stone, nay, they were instead more closely resembling pulsating masses of flesh, the faces of disgraced noblemen etched unto them. 'This place has the fingerprints of the Graven Witch all over it... Which should be impossible. Her body should still be trapped in those ruins...'
Suspicion bubbling inside of her, she narrowed her eyes and turned on her heels. Guided by the Erdtree's grace, her body tore itself into countless ashes of gold, drifting against the gale towards the Weeping Peninsula, all the while her mind thought of one thing.
'If the Graven Witch has truly escaped...' Her mind glossed over a certain Tarnished. 'May he remain safe.'
An incomprehensible amount of time has gone by ever since he began his quest to free Sellen.
The Tarnished sat frustrated at a chair, positioned right in front of his master's face amongst the mass of sorcerers. The Grand Library had gone through a drastic change in its appearance. The towering shelves lay empty, their books now partially torn and haphazardly splattered all across the chamber's floor in a messy sight. To the side, on the other end of the room from Graven Mass, stood a wide and tall corkboard with countless ripped texts, writing, and images etched all across its surface. In the middle of all the chaos, Rennala stayed serene, tending warmly to the golden egg in her arms.
Once again fiddling with Glintstone Kris, the Tarnished hung his head in front of his master. His tone held a deep sense of frustration as he spoke. "It's driving me crazy. I've read through each and every book and scroll in this damned library, making sure not to miss even a single word that could tell me of a way to free you but I still don't have the faintest clue about it!" He threw up his hands in the air, blade still held. "I even asked Rennala but she just continued to obsess over that rock in her hands; seriously, how could anyone ever fall for that? I doubt she was ever much of a Champion in her prime." He said, snorting as he looked over his shoulder to the aforementioned woman. There was a short silence before he let out a deep sigh. "It's not just that. To be truthful... I think the path of Elden Lord has well and truly closed shut for me. It may have happened a few days ago, or perhaps even a few weeks ago — time has started to blend together more and more in this forsaken place — but whatever the case, at some point, I have lost sight of grace's guiding light. The ones above must have seen me as a lost cause." He chuckled bitterly.
"S-Stop..." His master's voice croaked once again. It was a rare sight at this point. Excluding the moment he first found her, she never managed to speak again... until now.
The Tarnished smiled and his hand reached out, touching Sellen's mask. As cold as it was to the touch he also felt warmth within.
"Don't worry about your fate, master. It's been a slow process, sure, but I have finally figured out a way to free you. There's just... a bit of a roadblock on that end."
Before he could utter another word, a powerful, echoing noise spread across the library. The Tarnished's eyes widened. He knew that sound! It was unmistakable. With that thought in mind, he pocketed the Kris and headed straight to the centre of the chamber. True to his expectations, he saw the library doors open, particles of light streaking inside. Reflexively, the Tarnished covered his eyes, blinking away as he adjusted to the sudden change in his vision.
After he finished adjusting, he could see the silhouette of a cloaked figure looming in the distance. He could feel the figure, still as stone, gazing at him. In response, he quickly flashed out his Moonveil, his instinct sharp as ever as he shouted out. "Who are you?!"
For the first time, the silhouette moved, as if awoken by his yell. The figure's voice rang out, causing his eyes to widen with familiarity. "So this is where thou'st been all this time, Tarnished." In an instant after hearing the voice, the Tarnished smiled widely and waved his hands.
"Oh! Melina! Yeah, it's me!" He answered with great jubilation. He already felt himself moving towards her without his notice, quickly disappearing from Sellen's sight.
"What hast thou been doing in this sacred chamber?" She said, tilting her head to look over him and towards the piles of books on the ground. "I hope making a mess out of the Queen of Caria's solitude isn't all thou'st been doing, Tarnished. I would be sorely disappointed."
The Tarnished laughed, waving away her worries as he did. He wouldn't be laughing if the situation was serious, she knew. "No, no, I haven't just been messing up this place. I've been progressing with a very important goal of mine!"
Melina rolled her eyes. Must have been one of his little sidequests, she thought. "Well, whatever the case may emerge to be, I implore you to continue your quest of becoming Elden Lord once more. It's been a little over half a year since your disappearance, after all. It is never wise to procrastinate."
"Ah, well, I would love to but... the goal I was talking about? It's very important. Way more than becoming Elden Lord is to me. Besides... I've sorta lost touch with grace recently- or a long time ago, I'm unsure."
Melina seemed wholly unsurprised. "I am most aware. Torrent is still with you, after all, and even if I may have given him to thee, I still hold some semblance of connection to your steed. Enough to also be aware of your crippling issue: namely, your lack of access to mana."
"Y-Yeah." The Tarnished said, stuttering a bit as he scratched the back of his head. "I shouldn't have let my guard down around Morgott..." He reasoned to no avail if her unimpressed expression was anything to go by.
"Well, it's not the end of the land..." She murmured, tapping her chin as he mulled over the situation. "The guidance of grace is meant to only do the same as its namesake: guiding lost, hopeless Tarnished like thee. Fortunately, Tarnished on their path to becoming Elden Lord are not guided exclusively by grace. They are also led by their companions, the Finger Maidens. I may not be a true maiden... but I can imitate that role sufficiently. As for your mana deficiency? It's of no issue. You are plenty mighty with only your body."
The Tarnished was silent as he processed her words. Did this mean she would be travelling with him from now on? Truthfully, he didn't mind that change of pace. Ever since the beginning, his journey has been mostly spent on his lonesome. Melina may have been the first to sign up as a companion of his, but he rarely ever saw her. Of course, there was also Torrent, but... well, he didn't have to explain why that didn't exactly count as a companion, no? The closest thing he's ever had to a companion was...
...with Sellen. His master.
"So? We should truly be going now, Tarnished." Melina's voice snapped him out of his musing.
"I appreciate the offer, Melina..." He murmured. The woman's eyes thinned into slits; she sensed that there was more to his words. And true enough... "But I can't go. Not yet, at least. As I said earlier, I'm doing something very vital to me. It's not something I can postpone."
Although irritated, Melina felt her curiosity nudge at her. "Of what nature may this quest of yours be?" He seemed to hesitate for a moment, prompting her to raise her eyebrow. In the end, he seemingly came to a decision.
"I'll explain as we walk." He said before he walked deeper into the chamber. Left without much of a choice, she shrugged and followed suit. "It has something to do with my master. I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but one of her experiments backfired and morphed her into... something she isn't. I've been reworking spells that could potentially reverse the effect but... well, as you know, I'm not exactly able to use mana right now."
Meanwhile, as she listened attentively to his words, she noticed how he had been avoiding the exact nature of what his so-called master had transformed into. It was odd enough that he had a master, something she had been completely unaware of before this day, but his prevaricating attitude only served to arouse a sense of unease from within.
A sense that reached its peak when they turned the corner and her eyes instantly zoomed in on the Graven Mass; more specifically, the unmistakable mask of the Graven Witch etched upon it.
"This..."
"Is my master. Sellen." Said the Tarnished, veering closer to her mask. "Or what's become of her."
Melina's face darkened at his words. With this revelation, the haze that clouded recent events occurring throughout the land — the deaths of Master Azur and Lusat; the increasing numbers of Graven Masses; and the disappearance of Jerren — have started to clear away. And it infuriated her that her chosen Tarnished played a part in all of that.
But it provided a veritable opportunity, as well... as long as he could see the error of his ways.
"Thou must let her go. Offer her nary help and I will forgive thee for your violations."
He turned to her with a disappointed frown, seemingly already seen that coming. "I cannot do that, Melina. You must understand: she is my mentor. It's my duty to help her in any way I can."
"Duty? This so-called 'duty' of yours, Tarnished, could have risked infecting this land with an uncurable disease!"
"What do you think I should have done? Did you seriously think I would let her remain like this? In suffering?"
She snorted at his response, shaking her head in disbelief. "Suffering? Thou must've cast a haze upon your mind, Tarnished. This is the fate she wished upon herself when she first dabbled in the Primeval Current! She knew the dangers and still fell prey to it!" Melina argued, punctuating her point by pressing her finger against his chest.
"Do not act like you know her better than me." The Tarnished said with narrowed eyes. "She wishes to be freed; I can feel that each second I am around her."
"What cause even makes you think she deserves this? I am sure thou hast seen the Graven Masses spread like seeds throughout the land. What gave her the right to experiment upon them? Turning sorcerers alike into the same shell that has now come to bite her back?"
"Those were... mistakes."
"You call stolen lives mere 'mistakes'?"
He glanced at Sellen's mask, doubt creeping into his face for the first time. Melina felt hope light up within her... only to be dashed by his words. "They were willing." He said simply. "Besides, as I said before, she's my master. The first person I could call a companion."
Melina turned to him with wide eyes. "You-"
"You were the first to approach me, yes. The first to give me a goal in this strange, unknown world... but Sellen was the first to guide me through the land. She taught me how to best deal with dragons, with trolls, with all manner of monstrosities. She was the first to teach me how to fight with something beyond my blade. And, most importantly, she was the first to accompany me; the first to celebrate with me when I first took the head off of a Shardbearer; the first to teach me all about the world beyond just the Erdtree and becoming Elden Lord."
"So you may have been the first to come across me..." He continued. "But she was the first to help me stand on my own."
Melina was speechless.
And he had nothing more to say.
So... there came silence. A pregnant pause as each of them mulled over what they should do next.
For the Tarnished, there needed to be little change in his routine. After this, after Melina hopefully left him to his own devices, he would continue to find a way to free his master. But in the case that she did not leave him be...
He shook his head, forcing his shaky hands to harden as he gripped the handle of his blade.
For Melina, the decision she knew must be made was simple to come by. She must put a stop to the Tarnished and seal away the Graven Witch, ensuring the world peace from her mad obsession. But the problem lies not in the decision, for it lies within her willingness to do it.
And she was far from willing.
Perhaps a few minutes earlier, she would have simply taken out a dagger and cut open the Tarnished's throat; ensuring that life would continue in the Lands Between was her sworn duty, after all. But now, after his words that she knew contained nothing but the truth, she began to feel hesitation.
She remembered the day she stumbled across him, washed up near death on that shore; she remembered how she nursed him back only to leave him in that cave; she remembered the sheer loyalty he saw burning in his eyes the first day when she gave him Torrent.
And with all those memories pouring inside, her will crumbled.
"I..." She went, not knowing what to say. As the silence continued to hang in the air, the Tarnished sighed, his fingers rubbing his forehead.
"Leave, Melina. If you have no desire to help Sellen, if you wish to remain against Sellen... then I can't have you here."
Offered with a choice, Melina took it. "...Very well." She turned to head back towards the open door. But just as she was about to disappear from the Tarnished's vision, she stopped. "...You must give me Torrent, however. I... I cannot have him here with that witch."
The Tarnished watched her with empty eyes before he shook his head and took out an unconnected golden ring, adorned with delicate engravings and a hole for blowing into it on one end. "Here." He threw it to her.
Melina grabbed the ring out of the air, offering only one last glance that the Tarnished returned. She looked away towards the ray of light, streaking through the door, when she was stopped once again by his voice. "You're going to close the door again, I'm guessing." He accused.
"Yes. I... I will not allow you or Sellen to ever see the light of day, I assure you."
"I do not intend to walk out of here. As long as my master lives on..." His words dripped away, leaving her wondering what he was about to say.
But she dared not ask him. After all, she knew that from their brief glance, his eyes burned with loyalty fiercer than anything she had ever seen in him. It was the kind of fierceness that would enable anyone to achieve the impossible, the kind that made her believe a Tarnished could truly become the Elden Lord.
Only now... all that fierceness was solely for Sellen.
The river swam forward with eternal strength. There was barely any power remaining in her cold body, a testament to how long the tide had carried her. To her surroundings, the other mages that accompanied her in Raya Lucaria already appeared lifeless, having lost their minds to the stream.
She couldn't say she would have been much different.
When she began dabbling in the mysteries of the Primeval Current, Sellen was filled with curiosity at the sheer potential of the Primeval Current. A river of pure mana, constantly coursing through every space at every time. It was a force comparable to even the Greater Will... so was it any wonder that she, a sorceress bent on eternal life, would be so easily entranced by the stream?
Even now, as the Primeval Current carried her, she wasn't against the idea of living a life in the midst of all this. After all, the Primeval Current doesn't kill those who fall into it. It only basks them in nothing but mana, purifying their bodies and minds infinitely. It wasn't much of a sad fate: such were her thoughts the first few hours since she fell to the tide. She was content to sink deeper into its embrace, closing her eyes in an eternal sleep devoid of death.
Her eyes snapped open when she remembered her apprentice. Her loyal student whom she loves so very much.
She knew he would not take the sight of her very well. He would likely be filled with rage and sorry and try his best to find a way to liberate her, to free her from a fate that she didn't even wish to be free from. So, aware of the upcoming future, she prepared herself to tell him to leave her be. It was only a few words meant to convey how she wasn't at all suffering. "My apprentice, I am free." Those were the words she settled on saying.
But then... she saw his face. Saw how it contorted into a miserable sight, how his eyes held an unimaginable amount of confusion and despair. His words cracked out of his mouth. "Master...?"
And just like that, as if in a snap of a finger, all her resolutions turned to dust. In the end, she could only mutter the first few words but was unable to finish it, for it was then that she realized her folly.
While the rest of her life may be eternal, she had no one to spend it with. She would no longer be an active participant in his life, not even a witness to all his highs and lows, all his triumphs and failures alike. Then she saw the Glintstone Kris in his hand and her grief only rose. It was only then she realized that, at some point, a second dream had manifested within her thoughts: she dreamed of a future where she could stand beside her apprentice, them both bringing Leyndell and Raya Lucaria together into prosperity.
A dream that is now out of her reach.
Many moons have gone by—or rather, that much time must have passed. Isolated in the Grand Library, there was no way for him to tell the time.
Not that it really mattered.
At this point, nothing else would matter. That thought continued to run its course through his head as his lips quirked into a grin.
'Finally...'
After who knows how many hours of pouring through books and often hazardous experimentation, he found a way to free Sellen. This monumental discovery necessitated him to first understand the nature of the Primeval Current itself. As it turned out, the Primeval Current was not too dissimilar to the Greater Will in how it exists beyond the Lands Between as a primordial being. The difference lies in how they act, becoming the line that splits the two entities distinctly.
Where the Greater Will cares little for its subjects and their methods — only caring for the spreading of its seeds — the Primeval Current was anything but. It is like a mighty river of pure mana, swallowing any and all in its path in a torrent of unstoppable force. It is mindless in that regard. That is why the study of the Primeval Current is verily frowned upon, often serving as enough fuel to ostracize those who even show interest in it.
But that does not mean one cannot be saved from a being swept by the tide.
Whilst burying himself in the mountains of books contained by the library, he had discovered notes of an incomplete mix of both sorceries and incantations. Details of the writer had been scarce, offering only the knowledge that they were merely skilled in incantations and thus lacked what was needed to finish the spell. Fortunately, he had notes of a throve of mages skilled in sorcery available at the beck of his fingertips.
And thus, after countless hours of gruelling work... a new spell has been created.
"Congratulations." A soft voice broke the monotony of the chamber.
"Finally decided to speak?" The Tarnished asked rhetorically, his gaze never leaving the piece of paper in his hand.
She said nothing in response to his remark. She merely asked, "What will you name the spell? I can already tell that this spell belongs to not one current Conspectus..."
Pausing in his preparation, the Tarnished mulled over her words. Eventually, he settled the paper back on a desk and his pen soon danced across the top left corner. Letting the ink dry, he gazed at the words he etched. 'The Graven Conspectus: Shackle of Unbinding.' He smiled softly to himself. With this, he could free his master.
Having learned the spell by heart, the Tarnished wasted no time. He turned towards the Graven Mass in the distance with a hopeful expression. Out of a satchel on the table, he took out a sacred seal as well as a magic staff right before he trudged closer to Sellen.
"You will die." Rennala suddenly said. He continued to walk unperturbed. "If you forcefully bring out your mana, Morgott's seal will kill you." That got him to stop in his tracks.
Looking over his shoulder at the former Queen, he asked, "Are you willing to die for Radagon? If he never left?"
The question took her out of it for a moment. After, though, she smiled in resignation. "I see. Do what you must, then, Tarnished." There was no response; not that she needed one.
Gazing deeply at Sellen's mask for what may be the last time, he had one message left to impart. "I don't know if you can hear me, Master, but... I just want to say it's been a great ride. The day I met you in those ruins, I thought you would just be another traveller I met during my journey. But you proved me wrong in the best way possible. You were my Master... but you were also my closest friend, my confidant. If there's one thing I regret... it's that I never saw your face, nary even a glimpse."
With his words conveyed, the Tarnished quickly moved to activate the spell. He forcibly poured his mana into both the sacred seal and the staff, gritting his teeth as his body was filled with a flurry of pain. The scent of iron soon filled the room as blood poured out his body as if needles dug deep into every pore of his skin. It did not take long for his whole body to be covered in crimson. But — fortunately in his mind — his tremendous reserves of mana came flooding out as well, fueling the spell as his palms glowed gold and azure. An intricate formation formed below and above the Graven Mass, each coordinating in colour with his palms, as a beam of light shot out and engulfed the mass. Ghostly screams could be heard echoing from somewhere that is both beyond and within the chamber.
The moment the spell came to its end, the Tarnished crumbled to the floor in a bloodied mess. His chest was no longer moving.
In the aftermath of the spell, a cloud of smoke wafted from ground zero of the Shackle of Unbinding. As the dust and ashen stone began to slowly dissipate, the silhouettes of many masked figures could be seen. Immediately, angry voices peeked out of the smoke, now centring around the recently deceased warrior.
"N-No! Get me back there! Damn that Tarnished!"
"It's good that he's dead. Serves him right."
"Argh, fuck it... I was so happy too..."
Torrents of mockery came for the Tarnished. They were quickly silenced, however, by a low, cold voice that penetrated the loudness. "Mock him again and you will suffer," Sellen spoke.
She quietly stood up, her mask continuing to hide her visage. She lumbered towards the corpse. When the woman known as the Graven Witch crouched beside it, her hands slowly reached up to her mask... and took it off. The sorcerers behind her appeared shaken, a sight that was paired with the unceremonious dropping of the mask.
Her legs gave up, causing her to kneel looming over the Tarnished. Her hands carefully grasped his head, not at all caring for the blood that spilt on her, and lifted it up until the body rested on her thighs. She choked ugly sobs, her true feelings laid bare before the world as tears dripped and mixed with the blood. "Here... Here's my face, my apprentice, so please... come back..."
Her words were not answered. There was only a deathly silence.
A storm began to brew above the Academy as if to reflect her sorrow. The heavy echoes of rain and thunder penetrated even the thick walls of the Grand Library. Within its confines, a set of eyes marred by tears glared out towards the world.
To the grace that left behind her apprentice.
To the allies that abandoned her student.
And to the Maiden that betrayed her Tarnished.
They would all soon taste her revenge. That obsession, that goal... that was the only thing she had left that could fill her hollow heart.