HO BOY, HO GEEZ, THE TIME HAS ARRIVED!
Ladys and gents, we are getting this show on the road. So I hope that each and every one of you guys are ready for the newest chapter of the story. Because hot damn, I have no idea how I managed to finish this within the same month as the previous chapter.
The story just writes itself when I get in the zone, i guess.
But before we get into the hype of things, first I wanna answer...
A Few Comments That Caught My Eye
Ruberforumfree- Please, kill that self righteous bitch, first she stole his soul, and now she wants him to become their lord? How about he put a Claymore up their asses?
PS: Priscilla still is the best girl, I hope she's gonna be the MC wife
My response- I gotta give a shout out to you, my friend. I believe you are the very first person to call out Yuria as the self righteous bitch she really is. Amidst all her fun and games, I think a lot of people forget that, as far as she knows, the Prophet is hollowed and gone. Right now, she's pretty much a lunatic in denial about killing her god so im glad someone out there isn't fooled by her "Nice person" shenanigans.
Terra- So one thing I don't really like is the idea that the ending is subverting the First Flame, if only because I don't think it's possible. The First Flame is mentioned (only EXTREMELY rarely, as important things often are in this series) as the Flame of Disparity. IE change. Like the metaphysical concept of change. What Gwyn did was subject the Flame itself to its own entropy. But the idea of change can't be subverted in that sense, because there's nothing to subvert. If you're changing things, you're following the First Flame's example. So you can subvert the cycle of Light and Dark, but the Flame would remain. The change wouldn't come in cycles, but meander around instead like in real life. That line could be written off as Yuria lying or her obsession. But it's something to consider.
Also, pretty sure you're lowballing the Hydra's power. They're mythical creatures with homing magical water blasts. They're a bitch in the game proper, and should be for Oscar even with his scales. Keep in mind that the Dragon Chaser covenant wasn't necessarily about BECOMING a Dragon. It was about mimicking the Dragons' power to revere it through combat. So the scales should greatly buff Oscar's strength, but not make him preternatually powerful. More "crush stone pillars like Smough" than "get thrown through buildings unharmed", get me? So a few scales wouldn't cut it for the Hydra, especially considering that dragonscales wouldn't offer much protection from the Hydra's attacks. I'd say half scaled or more. Make the hydra something Oscar has to avoid as he's leaving. Dodging the attacks and running like a madman after trying to take it on and getting the crap kicked out of him. Maybe get him all pissed off that an overgrown lizard nearly killed him as he's leaving or something like that.
My Response- I gotta say that I find this line of thinking incredibly interesting and kinda part of the fun of writing the story for me as it leaves a lot of room interpretations. I won't go to far into details as it would simply spoil the plans i have in mind for the story, but I do want to comment about this. As you said, the First Flame is pretty much the physical manifestation of change and disparity, so by its very nature it should not be possible to subverted it. Since it would be pretty hard to change..."change" itself. But by that same logic, I'm not entirely sure that the flame exist solely on the level of concept in Lordran. As the lords souls, which are parts of the first flame from my understanding, are very real and physical manifestation of power that can be taken and used, wouldn't that mean that the First Flame itself can be reached, used and even altered? Even if its power is insane enough to effect effectively create the "happening" of reality itself, It doesn't seem like it exist only on the level of a concept. I don't know where i'm going with this, but like i said i love the idea of these up in the air unknowns like the First Flame.
As for Oscar, I agree one hundred percent. After looking over the Hydra's info a bit, I realized that I was greatly underestimating it. Also, I love the way you think Oscar's dragon buff should work and fully plan to keep it in mind when writing the old boy in the story. Especially the part with where the hydra's this great wall that he needs to overcome, with the only exception being that I actually want him to overcome it when he is ready as I really want something to start displaying the power of Dragonoid-Oscar when I get the chance.
Thanks for the feedback as it really got me thinking on things.
Jyx the Berserk- Glory into the Supreme Gamer and his epic tale! This story has gotten me hype like you wouldn't believe, and it's only getting better! AAAAAAAAAH! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START! THE CHIPS GETTING PUT DOWN ON THIS TABLE ARE FRIGGING ENORMOUS!
Now that my gushing is out of the way: a few minor grammatical errors again, nothing huge; however, the story is what I'm here to talk about. Psychopath Darkwraith lady seems to be having a blast, and Oscar is showing the effects of all this hot knowledge getting dropped on his poor head. There really isn't much more I can say for your story, I just want to see it play out, squeal like a little girl at all the funny stuff that happens, and cry a river at any tragedies you throw in. Not that I want anyone to die any more than The Prophet does, but good storytelling has it's prices. Keep up the fantastic work, you're doing a great job on this!
My Response- Not gonna lie, your review in particular put a smile and kinda made me redouble my efforts on getting this chapter finished. And trust me, I am aware I the grammatical error in the previous chapters. I plan to go through them all and correct those mistakes as I have no idea how a lot of them slipped past when I'm fixing things up. But anyways, really glad to hear you enjoying the story and I hope I can keep things interesting for you going forward.
Also, unfortunately, you are right about the tragedies being the price of good storytelling. So let me throw out a "It had to be done." beforehand. ;-;
TheGreatBubbuJ- I hope to see more matchmaker Quelaan. It should be especially funny when Oscar comes back to them to rub his dragon balls in their face.
My Response- Bro, I hope your happy because now I can only think of Oscar going back to Quelaag's place and just having a hilarious "You're not all that impressive." conversation with Quelaag, while Quelaag is just in the back watching the whole thing and pretty much just says "You guys should just get to the good part already. You're both clearly down for it."
Alright dear readers, that all I got to say this time around. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter.
Warning: HA! You all just triggered my trap card: Supreme Gamer's Revenge! Unfortunately, it doesn't really do much beyond giving me the ability to gloat for 3 seconds. Just thought you all should know that you fell for it and are thus inferior duelist. You have been warned/informed.
Painted World of Ariamis
All things considered, was being held captive really all that bad?
Despite the predicament of being held down against his will, the Prophet could not deny that he was comfortable beneath the furred dress that enveloped him. Though he did initially try to struggle, Priscilla was more than strong enough to hold him against her body like a child holding a stuffed animal.
So eventually, he decided to simply relax and let her rest peacefully.
Unfortunately, he himself could not find enough peace of mind to do the same.
And so, he did the only thing he could do. He closed his eyes and went to his thoughts.
Minutes go by as he took advantage of his involuntary break to review his memories of the things outside the painting.
Finding himself dwelling on his most precious memories, those holding his time with the Firekeeper Anastacia and the Goddess Velka, a small tightness found its way into his chest.
He missed them both. Anastacia, so gentle and shy, taking his hand and placing her trust in him despite her fear that it would all be for nothing. Velka, so strong yet wanting nothing more than to be vulnerable with him.
Yet for all his supposed care for them, the only thing he had delivered was new kinds of suffering. All due to his weakness and inability.
Burying such unproductive thoughts back into the confines of his subconscious, the prophet decided to turn his focus back to the situation at hand and how better to improve himself for the future. Whining about his shortcomings wouldn't do a damn thing to help anyone.
The situation he was in right now was a familiar one. Here he was, completely restrained, trapped and bound from head to toe. Not to dissimilar to how he was when Gwyndolin held him in chains.
"He could have me like this in a matter of seconds if he wanted…and with small bit of power I've picked up, I wouldn't be able to do much about it." the Prophet thought to himself calmly, almost reprimanding himself for not understanding his own weakness sooner. "Gwyndolin…he's going to have complete control of the flow of the fight. Whether it be chains or knights or whatever he throws my way, I need to be able to perceive and react to it. I can already overwhelm my surroundings with my pyromancy…so maybe If I tried to use sorcery in a similar way, then maybe I can learn to discern changes in my surroundings."
Steadying his breathing, closing his eye's and relaxing his body, the Prophet focused on this intent. The essence of his magic traveled through his body and began to flow to into his fingertips. He was familiar with this state of his sorcery. It was not too dissimilar to holding a mold of putty waiting to be made into a specific shape.
He now had the base material to accomplish his desire, the hard part was maintaining enough focus to command it to the task he needed. To do so, he knew he needed to maintain a perfect and sharp focu-
"O-Oh heavens~." a voice said sensually, snapping the Prophet out of his self-imposed trance completely.
Feeling the magic slip from his grasp and away from the new shape he would have given it, the Prophet was quick to display his displeasure.
"Aw, come on! I had it!" he lamented, before an even more important detail came to mind. "Wait, Priscilla? Have you been awake this whole time?"
"Oh…um, nay, not the entire time…but for quite a bit of it, yes." The crossbreed said in an oddly guilty tone.
"What the-? So you were pretending to be asleep then?"
"I-I-I wasn't planning too. Tis mainly thy fault I'd done so. I simply could not help but-…U-uh..." Priscilla declared once again in an incredibly guilty tone.
"Okay, I'm confused. What are you talking about? How is it my fault that you held me down and pretended to sleep?" the Prophet questioned.
"Well…I was well and truly deep within slumber, but your body is covered in a great deal of cuts and wounds, so thy blood was quick to meet my dress and arms. A-And I was simply overcome with what came after." Priscilla said guiltily.
"I don't get it. What does a bit of my blood getting onto you have to do with-" the Prophet started before the memory of her cutting the crow creatures body and its blood flowing into her scythe came to mind. Coupled with his knowledge of the nature of her Lifehunt ability, he was quick to figure out just why she seemed so shamefaced. "*Gasp* You've been pretending to sleep so you can nibble on my life force?!"
"Imsorryimsorryimsorry." Priscilla cried apologetically as she tightened her hold on his body. "Thy essence is an experience I've never encountered before and when it came into me for the second time, I could not stop myself from partaking in it. Then you went and did something that make it feel even greater coming into me and I-. Please forgive my mistake!"
"UUGH, okay-okay, just please stop squeezing me." The Prophet said through the powerful pressure being put on his body.
Now made aware of what she was doing, Priscilla was quick to finally release her hold on the Prophets body at last. Allowing the Prophet to hastily move into the center of the room and out of her arms reach.
"M-M-My sincerest apologies." The blushing crossbreed apologized fervently.
Now free of her grasp, the Prophet stood to his feet and stretched his back to work out the kinks within it, groaning all the way at the pleasant popping feeling his bones gave off. Priscilla was sitting on her knees and looking up remorsefully, that fluffy tail of hers curling along the floor at her side.
"Ouch. Just when I think you're the innocent type, you make a midnight snack out of me." The Prophet groaned offhandedly.
"No! I did not take any amount of life from your body. I only partook in the remnants left behind in thy blood, nothing more." Priscilla cried as she raised her body up on her knee's, showing that a few red stains remained on her dress. Only for said stains to seemingly be absorbed into the fabric, leaving it pure white once more. "D-Doth this mean we are no longer friends?"
Though losing a fresh friendship would likely not mean much to others, Priscilla seemed genuinely concerned that she had just blown her chances at companionship so carelessly.
Seeing the puppy dog eye's she sent his way, the Prophet of course could not bring himself to hold on to any sort of displeasure he felt. It was the same as trying to stay angry at a kitten for scratching up the sofa. It just couldn't be done.
"Well, I guess its not that big a deal. After all, you're not even the twentieth thing to try and eat me within the past few hours." The Prophet said as he fearlessly sat next to her once again, although far more wary of her trying to grab hold of him than before. "I'll let it go this time, but no more sampling. Even if it's only a bit blood this time around, if you keep nibbling, eventually you're gonna want to take a bite of the main dish."
"Yes, of course! Rest assured, thou will find that thy forgiveness is not misplaced, good friend." Priscilla said with a bright smile on her face.
Whether he knew it or not, his cheeks began reddening. That smile, those eye's, the innocent air about her…she truly was far too perfect a being. Looking away to avoid falling under her spell, he kept such thoughts to himself.
"Shameful as it is…may I pose thee a question?"
"Sure. Go ahead."
"Art thou…like me?"
"What do mean?"
"Its just that when I held you, I could feel you to your very core and it felt….truly wondrous. You hold the appearance of a human, but within you are different. Brighter and far more fruitful then I've even experienced in anything before." Priscilla explained. "So I wonder…if thou art a new existence like myself. Art thou composed of such life because thy were created for such a purpose?"
"Heh, you're asking if I'm artificially made?" the Prophet laughed, the prospect of such a thing tickling him inside. Placing his hands behind his head and relaxing against the wall at his back, he responded in a casual manner. "Well, I can't remember much of anything about myself and everyone else seems to think my abilities are a bit unheard of, so I guess its possible. It would sure throw me for a loop, that's for sure."
At this, a bright joy appeared within Priscilla's eyes as her body shuffled in place.
"Oh my. I imagined it might be so. It would surely explain why thy essence feel so strange and enticing." Priscilla said in a fascinated manner as her tail wiggled along the floor beside her. "Whatever thou beest, thou'rt wondrously strange, indeed. If not for experiencing it myself, I would have thought thee completely human."
"Hm. But if I'm like you, then how come I don't talk all haughty and fancy like you do? I'm pretty sure that that's part of the deal, right?" the Prophet said with a smirk, lightly taking a jab a he crossbreeds speech.
At this, she paused for a moment before holding strong to her pride and carefully putting together a rebuttal
"Hmph. I speak in the manner that I due because a lady must always be mindful to conduct herself in a noble manner. Though I suspect that should thy attempt it thyself, thee would stumble upon thy words like a clumsy buffoon." Priscilla said with just as cocky a smirk on her lips.
"A handsome clumsy buffoon." The Prophet corrected.
She pauses. "…My apologies, a delusional clumsy buffoon."
At this witty and sassy comeback, the Prophet could not suppress a hearty laugh. Maybe she was quicker on her feet than he gave her credit.
She looks away, her cheeks turning a rosy pink as her body shuffled in place and she laughed right alongside him. This was a first that she had brought about such laughter from another.
Not wanting the moment between them to end so soon, she spoke up and questioned him once again.
"I wish to know more about thee, Prophet." The crossbreed said in a shy manner as she brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. "If it be to your liking, couldst we converse more on things?"
"Heh, well it would sure be a nice change from fighting monsters for a bit. Ask whatever you want."
At that, the floodgates were opened.
Priscilla asked him every little detail about himself. Things one might expect from friends getting to know one another to ask. What was his favorite color, what was his favorite animal, did he have any favorite foods, were all but the beginnings of her inquiries. Her expression changes with every answer, hanging on to every word.
Are there many humans where your from? What sort of views did you have? Is there truly a time where the leaves on tree's change color? Is it true that there is a sweet plant known as a Pean-apple (Pineapple)? And so many other questions like those came about that made the Prophet chuckle at her complete and utter innocence.
She runs her fingers through her white hair, clearly enthralled by his answers.
"Its so weird. Even with her powers, why was it necessary to create a whole alternate world to lock her away?" the Prophet thought to himself curiously.
She wasn't a raving beast intent only on consuming life, nor was she some deceptive creature with sinister plans. She seemed almost no different than what he'd expect from the average woman. Albeit one with an abnormal size and a few extra features, but otherwise not all that different. She even had enough control of her Lifehunt ability that she was able to control it in her sleep. As for the allure that came about from looking at her too long, it wouldn't have been to much to perhaps isolate her a bit but otherwise, a life of freedom isn't so hard to imagine making for her.
So what was the problem?
Even now, with everything she'd been through recently, here she was, talking to him as if they were in a long time friends.
Even when she turned her questions to more serious topics, there was nothing but innocent curiosity in her voice.
"So do you remember how it is that thou came to know Velka and become her champion?"
"Ho boy, now that's a wild story. But I think I'd have to start with how I met Anna for it to make sense. I remember dropping from the sky for some reason…"
And so he regaled her with the story of Anastacia, Velka and himself. Or rather the very trimmed downed version of it that he could recall. He spoke of how he met the keeper within her cage and how he freed her (Though he didn't remember how he did it.), as well as how his walk with Velka and how they fought together against the great Undead Dragon. As he got further along in the tale, he felt that it he would be remiss to leave out their time together within the cavern and how the keeper confessed her feelings to him.
Priscilla ooh-ed and aah-ed as the story progressed and grew more intimate, gasped in all the right places and by the time the Prophet had reached the point where he woke up inside the city and was sent here, she was leaning forward, enraptured, her tail swishing furiously.
"Good heavens. Thy relationship and experiences are truly of special circumstance." Priscilla said, her breath somewhat taken away at the small pieces of the prophet tale that he was able to tell her. ""So then, thou came here in an attempt to buy time?"
"Yeah. Not really the safest option, but it did get the job done. Besides, I didn't really know what else I could do at the time…"
Once he had finished talking things over, the Prophet felt a bit of a weight come off his shoulders. Going through the good times of memory lane help ease his thoughts to a surprising degree.
After letting a bit of silence pass between them, he then decided that maybe the woman next to him wouldn't mind telling him more about her as well.
"You know, we've talked a lot about me. But I'm pretty interested in knowing a bit more about you." The prophet said. "For starters, how about you tell me where you're from, Cil?"
"W-…Where I come from?"
The Prophet did not risk looking up at her, but he could hear something in that question that seemed…. hesitant. So much so that it made him feel that maybe he had stepped on something a bit too personal.
Before he could tell apologize, the crossbreed began to shuffle at his side. Though all traces of the great happiness and curiosity she held was now gone, he could hear her lowly starting sentences then stopping after the first word was spoken.
By the time the Prophet actually chose to look up at her for a moment, the sadness in her eye's had cleared to a certain degree.
She straightens up and looks at the ceiling of the room as if in deep recollection.
"My birthplace… was within my father's garden."
"A garden?" the Prophet questioned in a confused manner..
"Yes. As you may be able to tell, my life and my birth is not one brought about by normal means." Priscilla answered with a tone that seemed a bit distant.
She the starts to paint pictures with words, images flowing out of her memory like leaves carried downstream by a river.
"It was a beautiful placed. Wide and spacious, filled with all kind of different flowers like roses and lilies. The sun would always feel so gentle and warm against my fur. Large trees were set all across the land and I would climb them day in and day out to my heart's content. It was truly a paradise for me."
"It must have been a real sight to see. I bet it would have taken my breath away if I could experience it myself." The Prophet said in a friendly manner
"Yes. I assure thee that thou would have been swept off your feet if we had known one another before." The crossbreed said with a small smile on her lips as she turned her gaze back to the human at her side.
Even in the dark of the room and looking up at her for only a few moments, the sight of her was still something that made his heart skip a beat. Her unnatural beauty was truly a captivating sight.
Pushing such thoughts away, he decided to try and sate his curiosity even further.
"What about your family? Did your mom and dad live in the garden with you?" the prophet questioned, immediately causing the smile on her face to falter.
"Well…though I am aware that I am descendant of a long line of mighty dragons, I never knew my mother and my father spent a great deal of time in his research….I was raised by his servants from infancy." The great crossbreed explained. "Though my father would sometimes come to visit me, he would always leave just as quickly as he came and rarely spoke. Beyond these visits, I would never see him. But I was content with this life. I loved my father and cherished the moments that I could see him again."
After speaking her last words, Priscilla's eyes suddenly became clouded.
"Those days came to an end a great number of years ago…after I committed a terrible act."
"What happened?" the Prophet asked, unable to believe that she was capable of any sort of terrible act.
The crossbreed paused for a moment to collect herself, before continuing.
"One day, I had awakened and felt very strange. Scales began to grow from my flesh, and the grass and tree's all shriveled and died at my touch. But the garden was a place of magic, and so they grew back moments after I withdrew from them. Other than not being able to climb the tree's anymore, the change was not so terrible….But then my father came to see me once again." Priscilla explained as her gazed lowered to the floor below. "He was far more interested in the change than I. For the first time in my life, I was guided outside of my paradise and inside a place with an untold number of books and shelves. Once we entered and reached a strange place inside, he told me to stand still. The servants that had taken care of me soon came inside with different trinkets and tools…..They approached my person and began to rip the scales from my body."
At this, the Prophets eye widen somewhat. A simple glance at her scaled flesh was enough to tell him that trying to rip them out would be the same as trying to rip out fingernails at the root. It went without saying that the pain would have been excruciating.
Even still, it seemed that her tale did not end there.
"I screamed and wailed, then servant's bodies began to shrivel. They died in a matter of moments as my wounds were healed and my scales grew back. I did not understand what was happening and in my pain, my father called out to me, telling me to come closer. I did not know what else to do, so…I ran to him seeking assurance and comfort." Priscilla said as she turned her eye's away to hide the sight of the sadness that was coming over her. "When I came close, he grabbed my arm…and snapped it. I had never experienced such pain before. Amidst my screaming, I heard him speak. "Wail if you must, but you continue to resist and you will be broken." More servants came and taking care not to touch me, they harvested each of my scales. Soon after, I was sent back to the garden along with a servant at my side. He said nothing and made no move against me. I did not take much for me to understand that my father sent him so that I could…take from it."
Priscilla hides her face with both hands as tears began to rim along her eye's. The Prophet could only gaze downward in pity at the nightmare that was her life.
Continuing her story, she explained that her father would continue this practice of harvesting her for years. Never hesitating in breaking her bones whenever she attempted to fight back or resist. What was once paradise, was now revealed in full to be nothing but her prison. The only thing she could guess it was all for was for her father to use her scales to gain her power or perhaps create something better than herself. But in the end, she never truly discovered the actual purpose behind her pain.
"That's terrible. What kind of monster would do something like that to his own daughter?" the Prophet said feeling the seeds of anger entering his heart at her father. "But its not your fault that those servants were killed. You were scared and they were hurting you."
"Sniff…that is not the great sin that I committed." Priscilla said sorrowfully. "One day, I traveled far through the garden and came upon a stone wall. The magic that formed the plants and tree's also was stronger within the walls. They restored themselves just as quickly as I turn them to dust. But this time I did not give up on getting through. For the first time, I willed my power to grow in intensity and borrowed my way through. When I finally stepped out to the other side, it closed behind me and I saw the outside world for the first time. I finally saw freedom and a way away from the pain, so far faster than I had ever done before, I ran towards the city in the distance. I was so happy at the thought of never being hurt again that I did not even care what awaited me there."
Hearing this, hearing that Priscilla beeline to the middle of a city, the Prophets heart dropped.
He could already guess the travesty that must have inevitably followed. But he let her continue her tale uninterrupted none the less.
"A feeling I'd never felt before came upon me. It was as if I had been starving and the most tantalizing and succulent meal in the world was just before me. A-And then…" she stopped, her eye's closing under the feeling of pain and regret the fell upon her at remembering what happened. "I came across a young human first. The life within him called to me. Drawing me in. He did not deserve what happened to him. Nor did any of the others that followed. So many lives…I-I did not know that-…. It was never my wish to hurt anyone."
Due to her current state of distress, Priscilla was unable to maintain her focus and control her powers. As such, the Prophet was now sitting directly beside a black hole of life stealing energy.
But he did not flinch nor retreat an inch from her side. Instead he chose to speak to her in a sympathetic and calming tone.
"Priscilla…." the Prophet said softly, quickly causing her to turn her sorrow filled eyes towards him with her powers still acting without any sort of control. Reaching his hand out to her, he silently conveyed that he was there for her in her time of heartache and that she did not have to suffer through it on her own.
He let her know that she could share her pain with him.
Taking a moment to make sure that this was truly happening, Priscilla reeled in her power and interlocked her fingers with his own. Wiping her tears with her free hand and taking great comfort from the feeling he brought.
Now feeling more at ease and safe with her friend, she was able to calm the storm in her heart and collect herself.
"I'm sorry…It is a troubling memory for me…" she explained, unable to look to look the Prophet in the eye after her slip up of control.
"I understand. And please, don't apologize. You have every right to be upset after what you've been through." The prophet said, trying to console her. "If it hurts you this much, you don't have to keep going."
"No, I…I've never gotten the chance to talk about this with anyone. Thou art the only one to ever offer a friendship…or a hand to me." Priscilla said as she reaffirmed her hold around him. "I wish to be able to share this knowledge with you. To place my trust in another. Can I do that, Prophet?"
"Of course, Cil." He responded calmly as he nodded his head. "What happened next?"
Placing a hand to her heart, she took a moment to calm herself that much further before speaking more of the truth of her past.
"I lost myself. Human essence was different from the servants my father used. It was…more. I-I felt myself growing stronger and they kept coming to me. Each one mesmerized and reaching out to touch my body. By the time I realized what I was doing, there were countless shriveled bodies in my wake. It was then that I heard a deafening cry rip through the air. It was my father. He knew that I had escaped and was coming for me. I panicked and attempted to flee run, but then these tall silver knights had come and seen what I had done to those people. They drew their weapons, but could do nothing to defend themselves from my power. I didn't want to consume the life of anyone else, so I ran inside the nearest home, crawled beneath a bed and covered my ears as I began to cry. I do not know how long I was there for, but a long time after I had hidden, a single person came inside after me. She was wearing a black shroud and held a pair of great wings on her back."
"Velka…" the Prophet whispered beneath his breath. "What did she do?"
"She did not berate or curse me, but was firm in why she was there. I would come out of my hiding of my own volition or she would be forced to make me." Priscilla explained. "I could feel that she was far different from the others. Stronger. So I made my way free from the under the bed and she covered me with her shroud. I do not know what it was made of, but it did not shrivel at my touch. When we walked outside, my father as well as an enumerable number of those silver knights were waiting outside. But Velka guided me past all of them with nary a word. I never saw my father again after that day."
"But then how did you end up here? You seem more than in control of your powers now, so why did they make this place?" the Prophet questioned.
At this, Priscilla's more brightened, if only be a small amount.
"Once we walked away, I was taken to a stone room beneath the city. Velka told me that my father had informed her and many others what I was capable of. She said that she knew I could escape if I wanted, but that if I did then she would kill me. I did as I was told and remained confined. The room was small, but as long as I was not returned to my father, I welcomed it gladly. For a time afterword, I would remain alone for the most part. Until the day Velka returned and told me that a decision had been made."
At this, the Prophets attention was focused on her next words to a sharpened point. He needed to why? Why did they send her here? Why didn't they try to help her?
"She told me that though they did not know how I came to be, my abilities were far to dangerous and my crimes to great. That with every breath I took was an offense to her lord. I was told that though my death was wished, they did not know what my powers would do upon my death or the effect they would have on the world if they grew in strength. So, they made this place to contain me." Priscilla said with a sad but accepting look in her eyes. "I am what I am. I understood fully that there was no changing that. There is nothing to be done to defend against my abilities, so their decision was a just one. For what reason would I contest it? So I did as they commanded and came willingly."
At reaching the end of her tale, the Prophet could only feel a deep frustration.
"But…that's not right or fair to you. What happened to those people was not your fault. For them to just send you away like that…" the Prophet exclaimed honestly, unable to hold back his displeasure at what happened. "You don't deserve to be here locked away like this. You deserve better."
The look in her eye's softened as a smile graces her lips. It was as if she had just gained an irreplaceable treasure in her heart.
But her saddened tone in her voice seemed to oppose such an expression
"I will admit to you that there was indeed a time where I wished for my own hero to take me far away this place, just like in the pages of a fairy tale book…"
The Prophet was about to say something, but the soft smile in her eye's makes him stopped.
"…But that was the foolish dream of a girl lost in fantasy. No hero would ever come for someone as lowly as myself."
At this, the Prophet simply could not help himself and spoke freely.
"Of course one would, Priscilla. And one has. You can count on me to take you free and far away from this place. So don't give up hope on your future. I promise that as long as I'm alive and kicking, you won't have to worry about anyone or anything hurting you. Be it your dad, those knights or anyone else, I'll protect you."
He delivered an compassionate speech. Outright vowing to stand by her side, even with what she had just told him. For the second time now, he had placed an irreplaceable memory upon her heart.
But even still, she could only watch him with those beautiful inhuman eyes' and smile sadly.
"I am quite sure that any hero to have the heart to say something like that to someone like me must truly be kind beyond words…However, I am neither a beautiful woman nor a fair maiden."
She says her words with a tone of acceptance that was born of years of suffering and loneliness. What she said next was something that she knew without a doubt to be true.
"I am the monster of the story."
"!"
The soft and gentle words that crossed her lips stabbed into the Prophets heart with the sting of a thousand needles.
"While I did not mean to, I have taken the lives of many innocents. My very existence is a danger to others. Including the one's you seek to protect." She said softly, no longer holding back on the reality of things. "It was not my destiny to await a savior to help me. In my story, the hero's won and peace was achieved. This was the happy ending everyone wanted."
Hearing the Prophet's jaw clenched as his pulse picked up and his emotions swelled.
"Why would any hero want to save someone as dangerous and horrid as myself?"
That sad smile never her lips. It seemed so solemn and tragic within the dark of the room. As if she had fully resigned herself to her fate and did not want him to bother trying on her account. She believed that she would only bring him pain in the end and nothing he said could alter such a fact.
Unfortunately for her, the Prophet did not accept that for a single moment.
Still maintaining his hold on her hand, he spoke with a heated emotion in his tone.
"That's bullshit, Priscilla. You're not a monster…Your one of the most beautiful and innocent women I've ever met in my life."
"W-What?!" Priscilla said in complete surprise as her cheeks and face grew as red as a tomato. A comment like that one being the furthest from what she expected as a response. "W-Why would you say something like that? Did thy not hear a single word I said? Cans't thou not look past thy depraved thoughts for but a brief time to see reason in my words?!"
"Nothing depraved about it. I'm speaking nothing but the truth you need to hear." The Prophet responded firmly. "Cil, you are so much more than the scars you carry or mistakes you've made. Past the fear, past everything you think is wrong, you are beautiful. More than deserving of happiness. So even if you don't think your worth saving, I'm going to protect you with everything I got and show it to you."
"But…But I just told you that I am a danger to all around me. My abilities put the entire world at risk and there is no denying that. Are you saying that you're going to put the whole world at risk just to help me? Tis be the actions of a fool."
"If the smart thing to do is to not be there for you, then I'd rather remain a fool my entire life." The prophet said without a second thought, causing Priscilla to feel a flutter enter her chest. Never in all her life had someone pushed this far for her sake.
It took only one look in his eyes for her to see that he meant every word spoken. That if it was for her, he would truly go the distance.
"For what purpose would you go to such lengths for me? T-Thou had better not say it is for the purpose of caressing my tail." Priscilla questioned embarrassingly at the Prophet powerful declarations.
"No, Priscilla. I'd go that far because I care about you and I want to see you happy." The prophet said as he squeezed the hand that held his own. "So even though I know It may seem frightening to do so, let's leave this place and seek out that happy ending you deserve."
Blushing would have been no problem, but what Priscilla did was go as red as a beetroot and radiate heat like a hot pan. With how hot her cheeks felt, she would not have thought it impossible to cook a three-course meal on her face. No-one could have missed it and she was certain that the Prophet did not miss it, even if he only looked at her for a brief few moment before turning away.
At this moment between them, she wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole. But there was no rescue from this embarrassment. The memory would be seared into her brain forever, ready to pop up and torment her again whenever she had a quiet moment.
With each passing second of silence between them, the feeling only seemed to grow worse as she looked at the situation. Her own private thoughts made her blush, the way she saw him taking looks at her sent butterflies in her stomach, realizing that they were holding one another so freely made her heart quicken.
The emotions she felt were so new and strong, that she felt compelled to release her hands from his and turn her gaze to the opposite end of the room to hide the embarrassment she knew was written all over her face.
"Thou art truly a shameless man, Prophet. Speaking such things to me only reveals just how devoid of reason and sense thou are. A fool of fools." She said in a shy tone as her gaze traveled to the floor beneath her. "I…I will hold thee to thy promise. But should thou break it, know that I will never forgive thee."
"That one thing you'll never have to worry about. If I make a promise, I keep it." The prophet said with a smirk, not letting her bashful demeanor make him hesitate.
"Good." Priscilla said beneath a smile that she hid from view before a thought came to her mind. "B-But do not think this grants thee free reign. I am still aware of thy aim of caressing me and I will not be caught by surpr-AAHH!"
In the middle of her sentence, Priscilla suddenly assailed a sensation that had never been put upon her body. Or more specifically, upon her tail.
Turning her eye's back towards him, she saw that he held a very mischievous look in his eyes.
"W-W-W-What do you think you're doing?!" she cried, not even able to hold on to the noble way of speech as she saw the Prophets hand was currently wrapped fully around her personal fluff.
"Heh, sorry, but you held me down for over an hour and you were wide open just now. I couldn't help myself." the Prophet chuckled as he moved a bit closer to her body and used his fingers to carefully feel along the fur of her tail. Though he took care to not look directly at it for too long, the sensation along his hands was more than enough to fill in the blanks. "Ho, ho man. I thought it was big like this because of all the fur, but your pretty thick underneath all that, huh?"
"C-Cease this! M-Mine tail is S-s-s-sensitive." Priscilla started before her hand flew to her mouth prevent the immodest sound that threatened to escape her lips. For obvious reasons, she'd never had deal with the sensation of her tail being grabbed in such a manner, nor the shivers that crawled down her body and made her tremble.
Quite frankly, this new feeling had her involuntarily leaning away from him to give his hand further free reign to do as they please. Of course, she could not look him in the eye's as she did so.
"I would, but I'm afraid I can't understand you." the Prophet chuckled as he gives it another squeeze.
"T-Thou will not get away with this…." She said in a voice just above a whisper.
"Shush, you. This is just payback for holding me captive and pretending to sleep, while taste testing me I might add. If anything, I'd say I'm the one in the right here. Justice well deserved." The Prophet reasoned, finding the sight of the large woman mewling in place to be an amusing one. Not to mention that the thickness of her tail felt incredible in his hands.
"T-T-This is thy final warning, release me or I will-MMMPH!"
At this sound, the Prophet as well as the crossbreed at his side froze in place.
He had ignored her pleas and grabbed hold of the very tip of her tail. This granted him a moan that was so suggestive that even he had to pause and go wide eyed at what he had just heard.
Realizing the completely indecent and unladylike sound she had just produced, Priscilla's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.
Unfortunately for the human at her side, her surprise and embarrassment was quick to turn to draconic fury.
Before he could even realize what was happening, the tail that the Prophet had so frivolously fondled wrapped completely around his waist and easily lifted him from the ground just as Priscilla raised herself up into a standing position.
Though he closed his eyes immediately so as not to fall under her magic, the incredibly angry sounding growls he heard told him that the crossbreed was none too pleased. Dragons do have a deep rumbling roar, so it shouldn't be much of a surprise that Priscilla was able to make such a noise.
Not knowing what to say in the situation, the Prophet decided to opt with the first thing that came to mind.
"Uh…you're not angry right?" the Prophet said with as he sweat dropped.
What followed afterword was what he could only describe as a very low and dangerous growling sound that was more than enough to answer his question. But then, just when he thought her anger had peaked, she took a deep breath and exhaled a cool air upon him.
She then spoke in a cheerful tone that somehow made the Prophet more frightened than the growling did.
"Angry? Heh, heh, how I could ever be angry with my friend, Prophet." She said in a sweet tone that caused the Prophet to open his eyes for a moment to get a read on her. Without question, she was smirking at him with those reptilian eyes of hers knowingly, conveying that she had come up with the perfect plan of retribution for his crimes. "Dear me, what's this? It seems you have a cut upon your cheek."
"Hm?" the Prophet said as Priscilla raised a finger to his cheek and lightly trailed it across. Leaving a very light smear of red upon her pale finger, which was quickly consumed through her skin.
"Ah~. Vibrant and invigorating. Thy essence is truly the stuff of dreams." She complimented pleasantly, making the Prophet eyes widen as he caught on to what she was getting at. "*Gasp* But what's this? You seem to have more injuries and cuts all over yourself. With so many wounds, thy must truly desire something to help ease the pain."
The Prophet felt his heart quickened as the crossbreed gave him an impish smile that was not to dissimilar to the one he gave not moments ago.
"U-Uh, that's alright. These cut are nothing. I barely realized they were there. So there's really no need to worry about-"
"Nonsense. I know exactly what you need." Priscilla said as she raised both of her arms in an inviting manner. "A bi~g hug to squeeze those cares away."
"Wait-wait-wait-wait-don't-OOOG!"
Using nothing but her tail, Priscilla brought the Prophets body closer to her person and wrapped her arms around him tightly.
She then dragged him back down to the floor of the room and enveloped him completely. They had now come full circle to how they were laying with one another before.
"I very much hope you enjoyed yourself because fully plan too." She whispered in his ear.
"Wait, why do I feel tingly, Cil? I never feel tingly."
"Shush, you. This is just payback for defiling my person. If anything, I'd say my actions are in the right. Justice well deserved." Priscilla responded, taking immense satisfaction at using his previous words against him. She found herself quite fond of being the one with all the power in this situation. Even going so far as to whisper her next words directly into his ear. "I may not know what it is about it exactly, but I've been dying to feel more of your essence within me. And I must say, it is precisely as wonderful as I remember it to be."
"Y-You're not really eating me right now, right?" The Prophet questions with a bit of worry in his voice.
Though he would never get an answer as a warm blanket of fluff fell across his head.
"Well, would you look at that. Tis my tail. The one you were so eager to get ahold of." The crossbreed said with a mischievous smile on her face. "Why not open thine eye's and gaze upon it once more?"
"And become a Vegetable that only wants to get close to you? Heck no."
"Aw, well that's too bad. I had thought thou would enjoy its sight up close once more." Priscilla said as she began to stroke the Prophets cheek in a loving manner. "However, placed directly upon you like this, there little in the way of resistance for you. It will not take long for your mind to fall. Doth thou feel it, Prophet?"
Just as she finished speaking the words, a sort of pleasant dullness slowly began to creep into the Prophets thoughts. He was quickly to realize that she wasn't bluffing.
"My tail is very special to me. I do not wish for just any to grasp it as they please. Especially for the sake of perverse satisfaction like you had just done. Do you understand, prophet?" Priscilla said whispered in his ear in a gentle and sensual manner.
"Yes-Yes-I-Get-It. I'm sorry for touching your tail without your permission. Now please get it off. My heads getting fuzzy and soon I won't….won't…uugh~."
Before he could even finish his plea, the Prophets mind fade away as only thoughts of Priscilla's white fur entered his mind. Though since he was already being held closely by her, his body saw no reason to move or resist.
"You are forgiven." As she toyed with the hair of the now entranced human. "However, I think I will allow you to remain under my spell for a while to make sure this lesson sticks."
With his mind as docile as a domesticated puppy and completely at her mercy, Priscilla's revenge upon the human was complete. Of course, she wasn't really consuming any of his essence, but saw no reason to let him know that right away.
Only after she had thoroughly had her fun with him, about twenty minutes later, would she allow him to recover himself. But until then, the crossbreed would enjoy toying with his person to her hearts content.
With a friend by her side and a smile on her face, this truly was her idea of a happy ending.
Elsewhere
"Okay. Deep breaths. Just like we practiced." Reah instructed calmly to the Firekeeper kneeling before her.
Doing as instructed, Anastacia took air into her lungs and cleared her thoughts as her hand wrapped around the talisman that was given to her. A few moments after she had done so, a light began to radiate from the trinket.
"That's it. Remember, a prayer comes from the heart. Hold strong to your faith. It is as real and as powerful as any blade and will protect those you care about better than any shield." The cleric said, causing the Merchant to scoff and roll his eyes at the cheesy dialogue that reached his ears.
Following the guidance given to her, Anastacia continued to focus. Until finally, that determination was rewarded as the light grew brighter around her.
Soon enough a feeling of deep rejuvenation and refreshment entered into the Reah's body, causing her to smile in acknowledgment at her friends accomplishment.
"Congratulations. You have learned the miracle of healing." The cleric said, causing the keeper to open her eye's and give a bright smile of her own. "Be proud. Through your own efforts, you have made a great stride this day."
"Yeah, good job. You've learned a miracle so basic that even a child could pick it up." The Merchant said grumpily, still angry about being unceremoniously appointed "Keeper bodyguard." by a certain goddess.
"Oh, really? That certainly says a great deal, considering that I don't see you being able to heal anyone. Or is it that throwing around a few firebombs and swindling others all you are capable of?" Reah said, speaking up in Anastacia's defense. Through these past few days, she had gained quite a bit of experience dealing with both the merchant's personality as well as many life and death situations. As the Merchant was sent into a silence that said he hand no retort, she turned her attention back towards Anastacia. "Pay him no mind. True, this particular miracle is the least potent of its kind, it can be used far more often and far quicker than all the rest. So do not let its simplicity blind you from its uses."
"Will it be enough to aid the Prophet if he is ever harmed?" The Keeper asked earnestly.
"Without a doubt. And If you wish it, I would be more than happy to teach you other miracles to make accomplishing that task even easier. But it will require no less effort than what you have put in to learn the other."
Without a moment of hesitation, Anastacia nodded her head. Fully willing to take advantage of such an off.
Since her last meeting with Velka, the Keepers heart had grown heavy with concern. For the past few days, there had been no word from the goddess on the status of her beloved savior or even an appearance from herself. It was fortunate that Reah took notice of her distressed state and offered to teach her the Heal Miracle to help ease her mind, using the pretext that it could "Help the Prophet" to motivate her.
As it turns out, the Keeper was a very dedicated student.
Miracles were fruit of the study of divine tales, a blessing received from the gods, through acts of prayer. To make use of one, a person must be strong of faith and trust wholly in the power of their faith.
To learn one even as basic as heal would usually take just under a month. Yet, Anastacia had managed to do so within the span of a few days. It was truly admirable to think that she was so determined to learn for the sake of helping the man she cared for.
"Reah, let us go. I wish to attempt the trial once more and defeat those rapier wielding knights." Vince, no longer holding the appearance of a naïve boy, said in a serious tone. Anastacia was not the only one who had a thing or two these past few days. Though he was only just barely able too defeat the Balder Knights, Vince had turned himself into quite the rookie warrior.
The two other newcomers to the shrine, Griggs and Laurentius, had chosen to sit far away from the group and did not approach to talk. Frankly, for each of the routine dwellers present, this did not cause to much of distress.
Though with his skin on the line if she got hurt, the merchant kept a close eye on them. Ready and waiting to send a throwing knife through their head if they tried anything funny.
"I don't know how you do it. So quick to try and get yourself killed over nothing." The Crestfallen knight said dryly with a sigh. "You both came back half dead the last time."
"I'm not fighting for nothing. I have my purpose. But if I cannot beat a few hollows, then how am I supposed to fare if I face the villainy of another person? I must prepare myself, that I may atone." Vince said as he checked that his armor was secure upon his body. "I want to face them again."
"Hmph. Gets his feet wet and now he wants to play at being the heroic knight." The Crestfallen Knight said with in a mocking tone. "Let me share a nice a tip then. Next time don't let it bait you into striking. Some hollows are more skilled than they look, and it won't take much to throw you off balance with that mace of yours."
"Yes. I will keep that in mind." Vince replied gratefully with a nod of his head.
The Crestfallen Knight and the young cleric were not friends per-say, but the rookie had learned that the knight's words were spoken from experience. Experience that he sorely lacked. Theirs was a relationship that could be summed up as a greenhorn taking the advice of a veteran.
However, though the crestfallen knight would never admit aloud, the kid had grown on him a bit. If the little rookie was smart enough to listen to his advice, then he did not mind to much passing a bit of knowledge along every so often. Provided of course, he was in the mood for chatting.
Their normal routine dialogue with one another was soon interrupted however by the familiar sound of wings beating the air.
"Oh great, she's back…" the Merchant lamented beneath his breath.
Just as to be expected, a woman bearing black wings landed just outside the area of the Bonfire.
Laurentius and Griggs each went wide eyed and immediately went to making themselves as invisible as possible. Though they did not move from their position, fearing that running would likely draw attention to them.
"Velka." Anastacia said, just a pleased to see the goddess as always.
"Hello, Anna." Velka replied, trying her best to return the joy of the keepers greeting but the purpose of her visit prevented her from doing so. "I am sorry to say that this is not a social visit and that I cannot stay for very long."
At this, Anastacia paused for a moment, before her gaze softened and she asked a question she already knew the answer too.
"If companionship is not the reason you came, then that must mean something is wrong." She said with concern in her voice. "It is the Prophet, isn't it? He has run into trouble?"
Hearing her ask in such a forward manner made the goddess flinch internally at the great understatement that was just spoken. But she knew she had no time to beat around the bush this time around.
"Yes. We have bought some time, but it is likely to run dry soon." Velka exclaimed plainly. "I need you to give me some of the humanity dwelling inside your body. It will be used to restore him."
"Restore him? Is he hurt? Is he dying?!" the keeper asked worriedly.
"No, no, no, he's fine for now, but-. Listen, for your own safety, it is best you do not know the specifics." Velka said regretfully, knowing just how painful such words would be to hear for her. "Give me the humanity and I promise that I will return here with him soon."
Anastacia had always worn her emotions on her shoulder, so it was more than apparent to Velka the heartache she was feeling at her words. What she did not expect was to see the smallest bit of hardness enter her gaze and the next words that accompanied the sight.
"N-No….I want to know what is happening to the Prophet." Anna declared with a bit of bravery in her heart.
"Anna-"
"If he is in danger, then I wish I know about it and be able to help him. I…I deserve at least that, don't I? I care for him just as greatly as you do." Anastacia pleaded.
"I do not question, nor doubt that in the least, Anna. But trust me when I tell you that knowing more will not put your mind at ease. I know that it may not seem so, but I am looking out for your well being."
At this, Anastacia's eye's hardened that much further before she spoke her next words.
"Please. If you were in my place, would you wish for me to tell you that the best thing for you to do is to stay blind when you know he needs you?" Anastacia questioned. "I am no child in need of sheltering. I would rather you hurt me with the truth, than comfort me with lies. So I beg of thee, Velka, tell me what is happening to him and the peril he is face."
At this, Velka turned her gaze off to the side with the look of guilt written on her face. It wasn't just the Prophet she did not wish to tell her about, but also her own actions in protecting him. She valued what Anastacia thought of her and wanted their relationship to remain as pure and close as it was now.
But as she stood before her and heard her pleas, she questioned for the first time why not come clean? She had wanted to protect her from harm, but this world was not so safe a place that she could remain blinded from the truth forever. So why not tell about the Prophet? Why not tell her about everything? What did she truly have to lose?
It was true that her care for the Prophet ran just as deep as her own, but maybe it was time to put it to the test. Heavens know that her own care had been proven time and time again.
If nothing else, the goddess would prefer that she heard it from her rather than anyone else, especially from that fool Oscar.
So with a sigh escaping her lips and a silent apology in her mind for what she was about to do, Velka spoke the cold hard truth. The truth of what happened to the Prophet, the truth of what she had done, the truth of what she planned to do. She revealed it all without holding back to spare her feelings.
In the end, Velka would indeed gain the humanity she came for. But as the saying goes, there is a price to pay for speaking the truth.
In this case, it would squarely upon Anastacia's shoulders. For once the truth had been revealed, her fate would be altered irrevocably and her place within the madness would be set.
?
The white coils of a multitude of snakes slithered across the porcelain floor. Their tongues flicked in and out as they observed the mass of books and tomes shelved all around them in seemingly countless numbers.
The architecture of the place was no more apparent than in the bookcase. He recalled that stairs had been built first, arcing like the end of a cat's tail before ascending the first floor. The bookcase had come next, built up by the wall, each shelf starting right next to the stair. It was as if the place was designed one feature at a time, each idea feeding off the last.
He despised coming here. The thought of speaking with that treacherous and deranged creature made his stomach turn. But for the great good, he knew it must be done.
"Show yourself, Paledrake." The god commanded with a cold tone in his voice. "I know little enters this place without your notice, set let us not prolong this any more than necessary."
For the longest time, there was nothing but silence as a reply to the young gods' words. But soon enough, a lone six eyed channeler wielding a trident in its hand walked down the grand staircase in the center of the grand hall of a library.
Once it reached the bottom floor, it spoke not a single word to the snake limbed god. Vexing him to no end. But from the blue aura that radiated from each of its eye's, he knew that it was being controlled by the one he sought.
"You greet my presence with a puppet?" he said suppressing his outrage at the level of disrespect brought upon him, though he could not inhibit his snakes from hissing violently at the creature.
"…Child…of light…speak…" it whispered lowly, its voice as low as a passing wind on one's ear's.
Though he bore his crown and his eyes were concealed from view, it was easy to tell that the Dark Sun was glaring at the abomination before him. But he reeled in his frustration and personal anger, speaking only what was necessary.
"We have suffered a great deal of loss in forces. You will give me additional use and control of a collective of your hollows, golems and abominations."
At this demand, the two individuals stared one another down. With Gwyndolin despising every second of being near such a thing.
"…your power…weakened….frail…" the channeler murmured like a ghost as its trident began to radiant the power of pure sorcery. At the same time as it had done so, hollows with crystal protruding from their body's, several other channelers as well as a myriad of creatures that appeared to be humanoid Snakeman emerged from all throughout the library.
However, even with this display of numbers being brought against him, Gwyndolin did not falter for even a single moment.
"Hmph. It is true that I am not myself as of late. However…"
As if walking free from an invisible fog, Silver Knights equal in number of Seath's own forces walked into view in the upper levels of the library, directly beside each one of the creatures and at the side of Gwyndolin himself.
The multitude of Greatswords, Dragon slaying bows and halberds extended forward ready to fight showed clearly which force held the superior fighting ability.
"I would advise that you remember who you are speaking to, filth."
Seemingly completely out gunned, the dragon spoke no further through its servant as Gwyndolin willed his soldiers to remain at the ready.
After a full minute of neither side making a move, the Dark Sun decided that he had had enough of the standoff between them and fearlessly turned his back to the channeler.
"You will deliver everything asked of you within the hour. If I receive no response by the appointed time, I will personally see to it that your precious archive is burned to the ground, as well as send Ornstein to collect your head."
With that, Gwyndolin proceeded to make his way free of the great library. Confident in the knowledge that the old beast would comply with his demands.
He had no idea that enlisting the help of the great betrayer would come back to ruin him in the end.
NOW WAIT A MINUTE, WAIT A GOSH DARN MINUTE SO THAT I MAY DROP A FEW KNOWLEDGE BOMBS!
Firstly, I want to say that starting next chapter, I'm going to really get things kickstarted into the battle of Gods Vs Humans. I originally thought of following each of the hero's stories as they learned their powers, but now I think I'm going to follow the rule of "Show, don't tell." So I'm gonna try my hand at showing just how strong they've become, but not in a manner that Siegmeyer, Solaire or Oscar have reached their endgame strength just yet. In layman's terms, it game time.
Secondly, regarding Anastacia and her involvement, I'll just say that I haven't set anything in stone just yet, but currently I'm leaning towards the idea of her picking up a few miracles and traveling to Anor Londo to participate in the battle as maybe a healer for team Oscar. She'll obviously not be much of a fighter, but I like the idea of the young firekeeper working up the courage to push through so she can see her Prophet. As for the merchant, Cresty, reah and everyone else, I'll say that I'm still working out the kinks on what I'm going to do with them, but I'm sure I'll decide if the B-Team will be tagging along in a fight against gods.
Thirdly, regarding the Prophets powers, I'm completely open to any idea's you guys want to throw my way. As I feel like he hasn't reach a point where he has a real edge to help him fight Gwyndolin or stand very much of fair a chance. And before you guys say it, I have am fully aware of the sorcery Vow of Silence and there is a very specific and key reason why its next useless in the fight with the gods. To say any more would be a spoiler for whats ahead, but If you guys got any wild idea's for pyromancy or sorcery to give the prophet, don't be shy.
And lastly, as you can probably tell, Seath and Gwyndolin are not friends in this tale. Their more along the lines of a non-aggression pact. But in my eye's Seath abominations and creatures are next to OP. So don't think that their just going to be jobbers, especially those crystal golems.
Alrighty, dear readers, thats all I got to say this time around.
As always, feel free to leave a review and tell me what you guys thought about this chapter of the story. Was Priscilla's personality and acceptance of the Prophets help well done? Should Velka not have told Anastacia the truth? Should the Tail Fluffing been more intimate?
Honest opinions are always appreciated as I'm always looking to improve my style of writing to make this story a bit more interesting for you guys. so don't be shy in telling me your thoughts about how things are going so far. Outside opinions will have a huge effect on how this story will play out.
This is Supreme Gamer, Signing out.
P.S. Don't any of you get it in you heads that the tail fluffing is a one time thing. We got to this point, so you best believe that there's gonna be more of that in the future.
P.P.S. I can't be the only one thinking of Dark Miracle Solaire standing over the corpse of the Gaping Dragon like a badass with Mildred clinging onto his back like total fangirl. Its just too awesome a thought for the old Sunbro, I tell ya.