Liurnia of the Lakes – Ranni's Rise – Early Evening
"Blaidd, I require thy presence."
"Yes, Mistress Ranni."
The ever-loyal half-wolf activated the charm that his mistress lent him, allowing him to project his presence in her lofty tower. Though the structure came from an age long before even she was born, the Carian princess sought to keep her station in proper order. Treasured and forbidden tomes alike were organized in neat piles, some of them kept underneath her doll body to simulate the height she once held before she cast away her flesh.
Each held observations about the Two Fingers that most would consider an act of heresy. Though the Golden Order would never stand for any form of sacrilege against their holy messengers, the scholars of Caria valued the search for knowledge far more than their desire to entertain the sensibilities of their warmongering captors. Many were executed for their heretical studies and much of their work seemingly burned away, forever lost to the mists of time. But unbeknownst to the brutes of the Golden Order, the Carians were masters of misdirection, hiding their most important secrets with the aid of powerful magic. Even in their final stand against the Golden Order, the Carians refused to give away the one advantage they held against their enemy's might and superior numbers—the forbidden knowledge that the Greater Will could in fact be thwarted. The war may have ended with the marriage of the Full Moon Witch and the Champion of Gold, but those who would defend Carian sovereignty above all vowed to protect that which could one day allow the fallen nation to rise again. It was a secret kept even from the Queen herself.
Guided perhaps by fate, or the machinations of the Dark Moon itself, Lunar Princess Ranni was able to uncover these hidden secrets—almost as if she was always meant to be the guiding hand that restored Caria to its former glory. However, none would ever guess how she would go about her rebellion. Having witnessed the gradual destruction of her family with her father's departure, Ranni found herself further disillusioned by the Golden Order's obsession with conquest. An uneasy alliance may have been achieved between The Golden Order and Caria, but this did not stop the army of gold from destroying and desecrating the evidence of all other gods in the lands. By Queen Marika's decree, all the meaningless bloodshed was done so that the Greater Will could be considered the one true god of the Lands Between.
When Ranni learned of the children Marika birthed with her father, and how each was born with an accursed affliction, she felt nothing short of elation. Though she knew how distasteful it was to feel glee from the eternal suffering of her half-siblings, a part of the Lunar Princess saw it as divine retribution for her father's sin. Since the day he left, her mother had become inconsolable, a far cry from the fierce warrior she once knew. It was a sight that not even her aunt Rellana could stomach, as the Twin Moon Knight would eventually abandon her sister and kinsmen, disavow her birthright, and forever taint her legacy by becoming the Blade of Messmer.
With the destruction of her original Empyrean body and the enactment of the Night of Black Knives, Ranni was able to instigate the first steps towards breaking the Golden Order—an act so traumatic that the enigmatic Queen Marika herself was beset with grief and triggered the Shattering.
Ranni waited impatiently for her loyal shadow to materialize, knowing full well that the imperfect fusion of her soul with her current form meant that she spent more time resting than was strictly needed. Many years had passed since her rebellion—far too many for her to remember—and the Lunar Princess had long accepted the consequences of her actions. Still, she could not deny that there were better ways to spend eternity than being trapped in an unfeeling doll's body. She tapped her fingers against her wooden chaise, hoping the call of restless slumber would not come at an inopportune moment.
Blaidd's spectral form shimmered in the dim light of the tower. He knelt before his mistress, awaiting her command. Ranni's piercing blue eye, filled with an ethereal light, studied him carefully.
"I have a task for thee, Blaidd," Ranni said, her voice cold and distant like the moon she served. "There is a swordsman of great power who has recently arrived in the Lands Between. He has already caused quite a stir within the Academy of Raya Lucaria, and I believe that he is also the reason that my manor is currently ablaze."
"Do you wish me to eliminate him, Mistress?" Blaidd asked, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his Royal Greatsword.
"No," Ranni replied, shaking her head. "Not yet. I wish to observe him. He may prove to be a useful ally in our quest against the Greater Will. His motives are shrouded in mystery, but his strength cannot be denied."
Blaidd's eyes narrowed in recognition. "Is that so? If you speak of the same warrior, then I believe I have already met him before. I will keep an eye on him, Mistress if that is what you wish."
Ranni nodded, her gaze drifting toward the burning Caria Manor, "Learn what thou canst about his intentions and capabilities. Report back to me with all that thou discover."
"As you wish, Mistress," Blaidd said, rising to his feet. "I will not fail you."
"See to it that thou dost not," Ranni said softly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "The fate of the Lands Between may very well depend on it."
With a final nod, Blaidd's spectral form faded from the tower, leaving Ranni alone with her thoughts and her books. The Carian princess turned her attention back to her tomes, her mind already racing with plans and strategies. The timely arrival of the pale swordsman was a surprise, but one that she was determined to use to her advantage.
For now, she would wait and observe. The wheels of fate were in motion, and Ranni would ensure they turned in her favor.
Liurnia of the Lakes – Behind Caria Manor – Late Evening
Vergil smirked as he materialized out of the Royal Grave Evergaol, his control over gravity ever improving. The mighty Onyx Lord fought valiantly against the invader but ultimately fell to the swiftness of his blade and the calculated ferocity of his strikes. After being imprisoned for so long that he'd forgotten his name, the Onyx Lord could do little but grimly smile at finally being granted a true warrior's death. With his final heaving breaths, the stone-skinned Lord imparted his ability to summon meteors from the void. The invader's aptitude for combat was extraordinary, but what caught the Onyx Lord's attention was the swordsman's ability to subtly manipulate gravitational fields around himself and his weapon. Though the swordsman's control over gravity was supplementary at best, the imprisoned Lord was able to see the potential he held should he choose to capitalize on it. It was a quality he had not seen in many an age—not since he instructed his young pupils Radahn and Gaius. Having nothing left to give, the nameless Onyx Lord finally succumbed to his injuries. His stony frame hung loosely over the remains of his shattered curved greatsword, the meteoric ore of its construction holding onto some integrity despite the damage it sustained.
Vergil carefully examined the fragments of the Onyx Lord's weapon, recognizing the rarity and potency of the exotic material. He knelt and picked up a loose fragment of the meteoric ore, feeling its weight and the power it held within.
"This will do nicely," he murmured to himself, stowing it away for future use.
The Evergaol's magical barrier shimmered as it dissipated, leaving behind faint echoes of the battle with the fading memory of its captive.
Just as Vergil began to formulate new ways to reinforce his frayed blade, his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar presence. He turned to see Melina approaching, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Another victory, I presume?" she asked, her golden eye flicking to the defunct Evergaol behind him.
"Yes," Vergil stoically replied. "The prisoner fell, as expected. His control over gravity was impressive, but ultimately insufficient."
Melina nodded, her gaze lingering on a glowing fragment in Vergil's hand. "What do you intend to do with that?"
Vergil's smirk returned. "Enhance my weapon, of course. Every advantage must be seized if I am to restore my power."
"Understood," the maiden replied, once again recognizing the attachment her companion seemed to have given to his now half-shattered weapon. "Would you like to return to the Hold? Perhaps the blacksmith, Hewg, could aid you."
The pale swordsman pondered for a moment, then shook his head. "Perhaps, but there is still much to explore." His eyes scanned the distance as if to search for a landmark and sparked in recognition of it. Remembering the scout Rya's words, Vergil set off to approach Altus Plateau, where he would surely encounter more Shardbearers. Returning to the Hold meant encountering the self-important fool Gideon, and Vergil wanted nothing more than to further humiliate the old man by returning with a Great Rune or two. "Besides, I know exactly where we should be headed."
"And where is that?" The maiden asked inquisitively. Vergil pointed to the cliffside and called Torrent to him.
"What are you-" Before the maiden could finish, her companion had already committed to a mad dash to the cliff. She knew for a fact that Torrent would not be able to withstand such a sheer drop, but what of her reckless companion? A Tarnished would surely perish, but as her companion repeatedly emphasized, he was no such thing, with barely even a connection to the guidance of grace. She focused on Torrent's whereabouts and dissipated into a blue mist. Seconds later, she reappeared behind her companion, whose shoulders sharply bristled at her presence. Without pause, Vergil leaped from his saddle and into the dark abyss past the cliff.
Vergil's coattails fluttered through the rush of wind that immediately enveloped him, giving him the unmitigated feeling of freedom he had not felt in so long. It would have been a simple matter to project himself into the cliff face that was his destination, but this was not an ability he could call on willingly, at least not without a little push. Rushing headfirst into an unseeable ground, Vergil projected his thoughts onto the distant lamplights he spotted near the cliffside. If this failed, then he would likely wake up with an earth-shattering headache, but he at least had to try. Clouded as his memories may have been while encased in the dark angel's armour, Vergil could distinctly recall possessing the ability to teleport himself across vast distances. If he could harness the same power, then perhaps he could restore his most favoured method of transportation. This mimicked the way his abilities first manifested, for even without the presence of devil arms, he knew that his demonic blood would react to the prospect of avoiding a colossal amount of pain.
Melina sat atop Torrent, unsure of what to think, when suddenly, she saw a blue haze flash through the darkness and reappear a distance later. After scanning the direction of the blue flash, Melina was able to vaguely spot the dim lamplights scattered around a nearby cliffside quarry.
"How did he?" she wondered, before she felt the familiar chime of a site of grace being restored. She and Torrent looked at each other, thinking the same thing, and vanished toward the grace.
Liurnia of the Lakes – Ruin-strewn Precipice Overlook – Midnight
Millicent gasped in exhaustion. The pain that writhed within may have ceased, courtesy of the miraculous unalloyed gold needle, but the absence of her right arm caused a more tangible set of issues. To say it was inconvenient would be an understatement, but she preferred this relatively minor setback to the curse that once flooded her mind and ravaged her body. It took days before her missing arm stopped bleeding when she first lost it, but it seemed as though her wounds were reopening with every ladder she climbed and every enemy she warded off with her offhand. The Shamshir she wielded had started to blunt, but in her state, she had little choice but to press on. Its unique shape lent it some advantages in close combat, but the same feature meant that maintaining its edge took more effort—a task ill-suited for one missing their dominant arm. She could not explain what force guided her to this quarry, but just the feeling of possessing an inner purpose filled her with a sense of thrill and adventure. There was only a small matter of crossing an eerily vacant cave ruin.
Unlike the miner's quarry, which was graced by the beautiful yet haunting melodies of Winged Dames or the rhythmic beats of pickaxes hitting unrefined ore, the stone ruins contained within this hidden cavern were unnaturally quiet. As Millicent took cautious steps against the cavern's walls, she could not help but marvel at the broken arches and stony pillars that littered all around her. She could only guess at the purpose of such structures in this hidden location. The unsettling silence of the cavern gnawed at her, emphasized further by the echoes of each step she took—she may have been careful, but she knew from experience that there is often danger lurking about where silence is abundant. The sense of foreboding filled her with anxiety, which led her to tighten her grip on her Shamshir rather than use her only functional arm for balance. She focused on anything out of the ordinary—a task that would have been made infinitely easier if the cave was lit by something greater than faint starlight. She was so focused on any looming danger that when she walked under a water stream, it shocked her to her core. Millicent sighed and tried to look for a positive to being drenched in freezing water. If nothing else, it would have gotten rid of the stench of dried blood that had become worryingly familiar to her.
A few steps later, she stumbled onto a rough patch of rocks, causing her to land on her injured arm. Millicent cursed under her breath for her carelessness but found herself cut short by the rumbling of the ground below her. A low droning sound followed soon after, which alerted her to exactly what she was trying to avoid. Her eyes widened at the realization that the pile of rocks was in fact a set of stony scales, a suspicion that was confirmed when she met with a gigantic pair of human-like eyes staring right at her. She felt the beast's maw start to heat up, which scorched the water that surrounded them both. Millicent gulped and tightened her grip on her sword, knowing that she now had little choice but to fight her way out of her predicament. Just as she was about to plunge her blade into the wyrm's exposed eye, she was interrupted by a distant shuffling, followed by a shout.
"You sure done it now, you stupid girl!" A metal-faced man dressed in prisoner garb yelled. To his side, another heavily armoured figure wielding a greathammer emerged from behind a stone pillar and slapped his forehead. Hearing the commotion, the magma wyrm turned its attention toward the pair.
"Oh, you must be bloody joking!"
Millicent, noticing that the great beast was now distracted, did the sensible thing and plunged her blade into one of its exposed eyes. The beast roared in pain and tried to swipe at her, but was interrupted by the armoured fellow, who slammed his weapon into the beast's scaly hide. She gasped in relief and struggled to regain her balance while the pair of unlikely allies drew the wyrm's attention away from her. The beast snarled and started swiping with its fiery sword. The metal-faced man swore as he narrowly dodged the hit and was met by a kick to the rear from his ally, whose action caused another swipe to narrowly miss the brawler.
"Watch yourself, mate. I'll crack you in 'alf after this!" He then turned his attention to the scaled beast. "Alright then!"
He raised his fists, covered in metallic spheres, against the beast and started swinging.
"You reckon we'd get a good payoff after this, mate?"
"Just shut it, Boggart, and keep movin'!" The armoured fellow retorted with a heavy swing to the wyrm's side. Millicent followed suit and soon, the three were able to reach a steady rhythm of dodging, striking, and keeping the great beast too overwhelmed to focus on a single target.
As they kept striking, Millicent noticed the surrounding water beginning to rise in temperature. Smoke bellowed through the wyrm's nostrils, which indicated its irritation. With every blow the three landed, they slowly began to chip away at the wyrm's health until it spun its body, slashing at all three of the combatants with a single swipe of its tail. The armoured juggernaut was able to maintain his poise and slid backward using his greathammer as an anchor, but the other two were not so fortunate. The metal-faced man flew against a pillar headfirst, stunning him for a moment while his head rang within his helm. Millicent for her part tried to brace herself by stabbing her Shamshir to the ground but fell short of finding purchase and instead slammed her back against a wall with a loud thud, scraping her side from the momentum. A jolt of pain radiated from her back and caused the wounds on her right arm to reopen, forcing her to cry out in pain.
The wyrm, now standing on its hind legs, began to gather up some energy which manifested through a wild conflagration that raged within its gigantic maw. The streams of water that surrounded it boiled and quickly evaporated into a thick mist that partially obscured its features. With a mighty roar, the wyrm spat out a steady stream of magma that scorched the surrounding area, illuminating the dim cavern and setting alight what little plant life once thrived on the secluded ruin. Each warrior ran away regardless of their circumstance, wishing not to discover how it felt to be coated in magma firsthand. The dragon approached while raining fire on the small party, the steady stream continuing to burst from its fiery jaws. Each loud crackle of flames was accompanied by the thundercrack of the beast's steps, its lumbering frame causing the earth to shake with every movement.
Amidst all the burning chaos that now consumed the mountainside hollow a singular figure clumsily stumbled. Clad in a tattered blue cloak, the figure rested an arm on the cave's wall for support. Pale of skin and hair, and struggling to catch his breath, the obscured figure planted a slender rod into the ground. From it burst a purple stream of light that summoned a nebulous void from which a hail of meteors shot through. Each meteor fragment riddled the fiery beast, knocking it off balance and interrupting the stream of molten rock that spewed out of its mouth. The charge of purple energy eventually dissipated as the figure raised the rod he held and flicked the top of it with a metallic clink. Millicent and Boggart both looked up in recognition of the distinct noise.
Now that the steam was starting to disperse, Millicent was able to get a good look at her saviour. Just like before, the pale swordsman had arrived to give her timely aid, though his appearance seemed to have changed since last they met. Unlike before, he appeared much frailer, with his porcelain skin as gaunt as his hair, and a collection of blue glowing veins that partially obscured his face like cracks on a vase. The swordsman slowly approached; each footstep accentuated by the splashing of water against his leather boots.
"Oi, you're in for it now, you gormless lummox!" Boggart exclaimed in glee. Sensing a bigger threat from this singular being, the magma wyrm flicked its own sword and set it ablaze with its own enchantment. Having regained some of his composure, the pale swordsman cracked his neck and summoned a phalanx of lustrous blue swords to his side, each the size of a greatsword. The wyrm used its weight and spun it to gather momentum for its colossal Scalesword, smashing it into the ground like a hammer. A cloud of ash and debris erupted from where the sword struck, evaporating any trace of water that continued to flow around the beast's frame.
The swordsman tilted his head to the side and the spectral blades quickly embedded themselves into the wyrm's thick hide, causing it to cry and start slamming its blade in a frenzy. With its back now turned to the three warriors, they each took the chance to chip away at its health while their pale companion stole most of the beast's attention. It didn't take long for them to realize that the swordsman was deflecting the beast's sword strikes with his own. The magma wyrm's tail struggled to maintain the beast's balance while being smashed by three assailants, and so it decided to hop back on all fours and push its fiery weapon into the ground.
The ground shook with the very action and soon, each assailant braced for impact as steam began to gather around the wyrm, signaling yet another stream of its destructive wrath. Vergil swiftly leaped back, calling another volley of spectral swords to his side. He pointed his slender blade toward the creature, snapped it back to its sheath, and charged forward with a series of slashes.
"Out." The first slash deflected the magma wyrm's Scalesword, leaving it vulnerable to another set of attacks.
"of." The second slash was accompanied by the swordsman's spectral swords which embedded themselves firmly into the beast's stony flesh.
"my." The third slash involved sidestepping the retaliatory slash unleashed by the wyrm while its fiery jaws snapped open to let out another stream of molten rock.
"way!" The three warriors were unsure of whether the sentiment was aimed at them or the beast, but given the ferocious display they were witnessing, they preferred not to be caught up in the exchange.
Vergil pressed on with his assault, this time slashing at the Scalesword so hard that the wyrm lost its grip and sent the colossal weapon hurtling into the air. The pale swordsman sheathed his blade and redirected the sword by catching it midair with a mighty leap and diving back down into the beast who attempted to guard itself by raising its arm. Said arm was dismembered in turn, and the wound instantly cauterized by the heat of its blade and the magma summoned by its enchantment. The magma wyrm roared in pain and slashed away with its free claw, a poor decision that resulted in the loss of its fingers. The beast recoiled and got back up on its hind legs, its tail leaking blood from the three warriors' earlier assault.
The swordsman's blue-veined skin gleamed brightly against the furious red of the molten rock surrounding him. Without acknowledging his would-be allies, the swordsman summoned another volley of spectral swords and embedded them once again on the wounds already present on the beast. Using each as a stepping stone, Vergil climbed his way up to the top of the beast and carved his way through its thick hide. The beast weakly roared and attempted to smash itself into the ground with its assailant still hanging on one of his scales but was then littered with a series of spectral blades that twisted around its wounds. The magma wyrm collapsed to the ground; its head held aloft by the pale swordsman who then unhanded the wyrm and unsheathed his sword. Blue flames gathered around the swordsman's weapon and coalesced into a thick greatsword coated in an unfamiliar enchantment. The swordsman's eyes glowed a bright crimson when the sword fully manifested and he plunged it into the beast's remaining eye, silencing it finally. The former dark angel's arm shivered as his grip tightened over his accursed blade and slashed it downward until he was able to carve the beast's still-beating heart out of its chest.
In an act that filled each warrior with fascination and disgust, the pale swordsman began to devour the heart, which coincided with the dissolution of the malevolent aura surrounding him. He sat up on one knee, his chest heaving in exhaustion, while wiping the draconic blood from his face—washing it off with some of the freshwater flowing from the stream beneath him.
"Marika's tits, you could've just asked for some of me prawn, mate." The Blackguard cheekily remarked.
"That was quite a good show, my friend." The Bullgoat Warrior lauded, finally dropping his colossal hammer to the ground with a loud thud.
Upon closer inspection, the three warriors noticed that their fierce comrade was now barely conscious—almost as though he was caught in a trance. Each preferred to ignore the gruesome end to the battle but could not deny the burden that the pale swordsman carried within. For his part, Vergil was too caught up in the lingering effects of his affliction to acknowledge the others. Once the beast was vanquished, a site of grace materialized nearby. He started to crawl toward it when Boggart and Millicent both recognized his intent and carried him to the mysterious direction until his hands stopped trembling. While his pride would never allow him to stomach such an action, he had no choice but to comply in his half-conscious state. As he drew closer to the light, he instinctively reached for the site of grace which hastened his healing and restored some of his strength. The kindling maiden rushed out of a blue mist, surprising Boggart and the Bullgoat Warrior, who decided to turn the pale swordsman onto his back.
Melina knelt beside Vergil and placed a cold hand on his feverish forehead. Vergil groaned, delirious from his affliction. He weakly muttered. "Mother…"
His voice was a faint whisper, filled with pain and longing. With a soft expression, Melina brushed some of Vergil's hair up the way he always did and responded. "Yes, my son."
"It hurts." He stated simply, almost childishly.
"You need to rest, Vergil. Maybe some sleep will help."
"Yes…mother…" Vergil's half-lidded eyes collapsed and blue veins that partially obscured his face started to grow dimmer.
Liurnia of the Lakes – Magma Wyrm Site of Grace – Early morning
"Bloody hell. What happened to 'im?" Boggart finally chimed.
"He's afflicted with a curse. The likes of which I have never witnessed." The maiden replied as she continued to gently stroke her companion's hair.
"Is there anything we can do?" The Bullgoat Warrior added in concern. Melina shook her head and spoke.
"It's as though a great power is tearing at him from within. It comes at strange intervals. Often when he overextends the use of his inner power. I've cautioned him against using it time and again, but he refuses to listen. Every effort we've made so far has only prolonged the inevitable."
"It sounds an awful lot like the Scarlet Rot that once writhed within me," Millicent added. "Yet I can feel no outer god's influence on him. It's strange how he has saved me time and again and yet I can do nothing to aid him."
"'e's a tough lad. I'm sure 'e's just knackered what with all the fighting and all." Boggart remarked and started digging into his travel sack. "'ere, some of me prawn. I'm sure 'e'd appreciate 'em once he wakes up." Melina extended her hand and attempted to impart some runes to the Blackguard, but he shook his head. "Nah, it's on the 'ouse this time. Besides, it's the least I could do since 'e saved me skin again."
"Perhaps. Where will you go now?" Melina smiled.
"Me and me mate Tragoth over 'ere are headed over to Leyndell. Seems there's a nice spot to catch some good crab, 'an I got me some new recipes to try out."
"And I wouldn't miss some of this man's cooking if I can help it. After all, Radahn's festival is fast approaching, and I need all the help I can get." Tragoth added.
"Anyways, we'd best be going. Nice seein' you again, mate. Tell 'im to come find me when he's all fresh an' proper, yeah?" Boggart approached the wooden lift and called it down. Tragoth trailed shortly behind him, adding "Your companion is truly a remarkable warrior. Tell him to watch for General Radahn's festival. It should be coming in a few weeks' time. It would be an honour to fight alongside him again."
Melina turned and noticed the redheaded girl who sat beside a nearby stone pillar. "Are you not joining them?" Millicent shook her head.
"No. Besides, I would find it awfully ill-mannered if I was to abandon the person who's aided me while he's struggling."
"Understood. In that case, greetings. It is nice to meet you again. I am Melina."
Millicent tilted her head to the side and vaguely recalled the maiden who accompanied the pale warrior.
"Oh, hello. My name is Millicent." Millicent turned her right side toward the kindling maiden, only to realize that her arm was still missing. She hissed in pain and blushed in embarrassment, but Melina didn't mind. She did, however, notice that the dismembered limb was still bleeding and remembered that it was her companion who was the cause of the injury.
"May I?" The maiden once again extended a hand that now glowed with a soothing golden light. Millicent softly nodded.
"Ah!" She hissed in pain for a moment before it subsided once again. With the magma wyrm defeated, Millicent could once again hear the rhythmic buzzing of distant insects and creatures that inhabit the night. Where once a haunting silence subsumed the cavernous ruin, there was now a peaceful hollow graced by the calming sound of a flowing stream and overseen by an audience of starlight.