Elden Ring II

by Robin171301

Many ages have passed in the Lands Between, now covered by a greater dark fog. The last Elden Lord vanished, after The Fall. The grace is fading and with it all hope of restoring peace, yet in this darkness lies one small glimmer hope, the Last Tarnished.

6. Chapter 73 to 75

Night of Revelry

Chapter Notes

This is a sort of comedy chapter mostly. I apologize if you have been looking forward to getting back to the main story and are not a fan of this. I thought it would be funny and tried my best. Let me know if you enjoyed.

See the end of the chapter for morenotes

The gentle lapping of waves against the ship's hull provided a soothing backdrop as Malenia stood at the railing, her keen senses attuned to the conversation between Magnus and Godwyn. Their voices carried across the deck, punctuated by occasional laughter.

"It seems our brothers are forging quite the bond," Miquella's soft voice came from beside her. Malenia felt his presence, small yet radiant, as he joined her.

She nodded, a faint smile gracing her lips. "Indeed. It's... heartening to hear. They both possess that rare quality - the ability to inspire hope in others. Though they wield it differently, the effect is much the same."

Miquella was quiet for a moment, observing the two. "You know, now that I see them side by side, the resemblance is quite striking. They could almost be twins themselves, save for the wings."

Malenia stiffened slightly, her breath catching. "Truly? I... I hadn't realized." Her voice lowered, tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Sometimes I forget how much I've missed, being unable to see. To think, I can't even picture the face of the man I love."

She felt Miquella's small hand rest on her arm, a gesture of comfort. "Sister, you see Magnus in ways that matter far more than mere appearance. You know the strength of his character, the warmth of his presence."

Malenia nodded, grateful for her twin's wisdom. Still, a wistful sigh escaped her. "You're right, of course. But there are moments when I wish... just for an instant... I could look upon him with my own eyes."

Miquella gently squeezed Malenia's hand, his voice soft but reassuring. "Your bond with Magnus transcends sight, sister. It's woven from shared experiences, mutual trust, and deep understanding."

Above, Maeve's dark wings cut through the air as she circled the ship, her keen eyes scanning the horizon. Radahn's booming voice carried across the deck, "Any sign of those monstrous carp, Maeve?"

Without missing a beat, Maeve called back, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Oh, just wait, Radahn. You'll be longing for overgrown fish when a lobster decides to use you for target practice."

Radahn's laughter rumbled like distant thunder. "I'd like to see one try! Might make for a decent meal, at least."

From his position near the stern, Messmer observed the exchange silently, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. The serpents coiled around him seemed to mirror his subtle shift in mood.

As the ship approached the massive structure of the Grand Lift of Dectus, the atmosphere aboard grew more focused. Soldiers began the organized chaos of disembarking, their armor clinking as they made their way onto the enormous platform.

Radahn strode to the center of the lift, his imposing figure drawing all eyes. "Everyone secure?" he called out, his voice reverberating off the ancient stonework. At the affirmative responses, he nodded, a look of concentration settling over his features.

The air around Radahn began to shimmer with an ethereal, purplish energy. As he channeled his mastery over gravity, the platform beneath their feet trembled, then slowly began to rise. The gears and mechanisms of the lift groaned to life, awakened by the Starscourge's power after years of disuse.

As the lift ground to a halt at the summit of the Altus Plateau, Maeve stepped forward, her crimson hair catching the golden light. She inhaled deeply, her eyes scanning the familiar yet changed landscape before her. The once-verdant fields now bore scars of conflict and decay, but hints of renewal peeked through the devastation.

Godwyn approached, his golden hair gleaming as he came to stand beside her. For a moment, they stood in silence, both lost in memories of a time long past.

"It's... different," Godwyn finally said, his voice low. "Yet somehow the same."

Maeve nodded, her usual sharp tongue softened by nostalgia.

Godwyn glanced at her, curiosity in his eyes. "You knew this place well?"

"As well as one can know a battlefield," Maeve replied, a hint of her typical sarcasm returning. "Though I suspect your memories here are fonder than mine."

Godwyn's brow furrowed slightly. "Perhaps. It's strange, isn't it? To share a heritage, yet have such different experiences of it."

Maeve turned to face him fully, her red eyes meeting his golden ones. "Well, that's what happens when you're born fashionably late to the family drama," she quipped, but there was no real bite to her words.

"I'd like to hear about those experiences sometime," Godwyn offered, his tone genuine. "If you're willing to share."

Maeve raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. "Careful what you wish for, brother. My tales might tarnish that golden reputation of yours."

Godwyn chuckled, surprising her. "I think I can risk it."

Malenia and Magnus walked side by side, their footsteps in sync as they traversed the war-torn landscape. The absence of his wingbeats beside her was noticeable, and Malenia sensed the weight of his thoughts.

"Your mind seems far away," she said softly, her voice cutting through his reverie.

Magnus started slightly, as if suddenly remembering where he was. "Ah, yes. I apologize. I was... reminiscing."

They passed a crumbling structure, its walls blackened and partially collapsed. Magnus paused, gesturing towards it. "That building there... Maeve and I sheltered there with our mother once, after an attack by the Frenzied Flame cultists."

Malenia turned her head, imagining the scene. "It must have been terrifying for you as children."

A low chuckle escaped Magnus. "For me, perhaps. Maeve, on the other hand... Mother was furious with her. She'd tried to charge out and fight them herself."

"That does sound like Maeve," Malenia said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Suddenly, raised voices from above interrupted their conversation. Looking up, they saw the silhouettes of Malenia's daughters against the sky, their wings beating furiously as they bickered.

"No, Amy, you're doing it wrong!" Maureen's voice carried down to them.

"I am not!" Amy retorted. "You're just jealous because I'm faster!"

"Both of you, stop it!" Mary interjected, trying to mediate. "We're supposed to be patrolling, not racing!"

Millicent's exasperated sigh was audible even from the ground. "Can we please focus? This isn't a game!"

"Speak for yourself!" Polyanna laughed, executing a barrel roll.

Magnus and Malenia exchanged a glance, a mixture of exasperation and fondness in their expressions.

"It seems some things never change, regardless of age or angelic status," Magnus mused.

Malenia nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Indeed. Though I must admit, their bickering is almost... comforting. A touch of normalcy in these times."

"Shall we call them down?" Magnus asked, his hand already moving to shield his eyes as he looked skyward.

Malenia shook her head. "Let them be for now. They'll sort themselves out... eventually."

As if on cue, Eleanora's voice rang out from above, sharp and commanding. "Enough! Form up and continue the patrol properly, or I'll have you all running drills until your wings fall off!"

The girls' arguing ceased immediately, replaced by a chorus of "Yes, Eleanora!" as they fell back into formation.

Magnus chuckled softly. "Remind me to thank Eleanora later. She certainly has a way with them."

Malenia nodded, her smile widening slightly. "She does indeed. Now, tell me more about your childhood adventures with Maeve. I find I'm quite curious about the mischief you two got into."

—

As the group approached the makeshift fortifications of Stormcaller Village, the sight of familiar faces brought a sense of relief. Jar-Bairn waddled up to them, his ceramic body gleaming in the sunlight.

"You're back!" he exclaimed, reaching out to clasp Magnus's hand. "Did you defeat the Prince of Death?"

Magnus nodded solemnly, "We did, brave Jar-Bairn. The Lands Between are safer for it."

The group made their way to the heart of the village, where Stormcaller Church stood as a beacon of hope. Phillia, the towering albinauric leader, stepped forward to greet them. Her silver hair shimmered as she bowed her head in respect.

"Welcome back to Stormcaller Village," Phillia said, her voice carrying a mixture of hope and concern. "Were you successful in your mission?"

Miquella stepped forward, his childlike form belying the weight of his words. "We were, Phillia. The Prince of Death is no more. However," he paused, his voice softening, "victory came at a cost. We lost Morgott and Mohg in the battle."

A hushed murmur rippled through the gathering crowd. Phillia's expression grew solemn. "May their sacrifices be remembered. The Lands Between owe them a great debt."

Magnus, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "If you'll excuse me, I must speak with Roderika. There are matters we need to discuss."

As some of the others began to move, intending to accompany him, Magnus held up a hand. "I think it best if I speak to her alone."

Magnus ducked into the small shack, the familiar scent of ash and metal filling the air. Master Hewg's rhythmic hammering provided a constant backdrop as he acknowledged Magnus with a gruff nod, never pausing in his work.

Roderika's face lit up at the sight of Magnus. "You've returned safely! I'm so glad to see you."

Magnus offered a gentle smile, but his eyes held a seriousness that sobered Roderika's expression. "Thank you, Roderika. I'm afraid I must ask you about something... difficult."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "Kenneth Haight mentioned a Tarnished who became the Lord of Frenzied Flame. He spoke of a finger maiden and Nepheli Loux coming to the Roundtable Hold after this occurred. Can you tell me more about this?"

At the mention of the Lord of Frenzied Flame, Roderika's demeanor changed drastically. The warmth drained from her face, replaced by a haunted look. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if suddenly chilled.

"Oh... oh no," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I had hoped to never speak of that day again."

Suddenly, the rhythmic clanging of Hewg's hammer ceased. The silence was jarring, drawing Magnus's attention to the old blacksmith. Hewg turned slowly, his weathered face etched with a pain Magnus had never seen before.

"The Tarnished..." Hewg mumbled, his voice a low rumble. "I forged his weapons, sharpened his resolve. I fulfilled my oath to Queen Marika, helped him become Elden Lord." His hands, calloused and scarred, clenched into fists. "But in the end... in the end, he chose madness. Created a new god, terrible and mad."

Magnus stood stunned, the weight of Hewg's words hanging heavy in the air. The usually stoic blacksmith's reaction spoke volumes about the gravity of what had transpired.

Roderika's voice trembled as she recounted the events, her eyes unfocused as if seeing ghosts from the past. "They all came, Magnus. Tarnished who had fought alongside him, even some who had once stood against him. The Roundtable was filled with them."

She paused, swallowing hard before continuing. "Nepheli... she was so brave. She told me to stay with Hewg, to watch over the Roundtable. 'We'll be back soon,' she said. But..." Roderika's voice cracked. "She never returned. None of them did."

Magnus leaned in slightly, his voice gentle. "And the Finger Maiden?"

Roderika shook her head, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I only caught a glimpse. She wore a cloak, but there was something... ethereal about her. As if she wasn't quite there. A spirit, perhaps."

As Roderika spoke, Magnus could see the toll these memories were taking on her. Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Roderika," Magnus said softly. "I didn't mean to cause you pain. We're just trying to understand what happened, to piece together the past."

Roderika nodded, taking a shaky breath. "I understand. It's important that you know. It's just... hard to remember."

As he turned to leave, Roderika's voice stopped him. "Magnus... be careful. You have been a good friend. I… I don't want to lose another."

Magnus nodded, acknowledging her warning. As he stepped out of the shack, the weight of the information settled on him. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, but the picture they formed was darker than he had anticipated.

Magnus rejoined the group, his expression pensive. The others looked at him expectantly, hope and curiosity evident in their faces.

Malenia was the first to speak. "Did you learn anything of value from Roderika?"

Magnus shook his head slightly. "Not much beyond what we already knew, I'm afraid. The details remain... elusive."

A collective sigh of disappointment rippled through the group. Miquella's brow furrowed in thought, while Radahn crossed his arms, frustration evident in his stance. Maeve shot Magnus a look that suggested she didn't entirely believe him, but she remained silent.

The mood grew somber as the reality of their limited progress sank in. It was in this moment of quiet disappointment that Godwyn suddenly rose to his feet, his golden hair catching the light as he addressed the group.

"I have a matter I wish to discuss," he began, his voice steady and resolute. "Mohg and Morgott... they deserve a proper burial."

The others looked up at him, some with surprise, others with understanding. Godwyn continued, "I know that not all of you were close to them. Our relationships were... complicated, to say the least. But they were our kin, and they fell in battle against a common foe."

He paused, looking around at each of them. "I intend to give them a burial befitting their status as demigods. It's the least we can do to honor their sacrifice."

Messmer nodded solemnly, while Eleanora shifted uncomfortably, her past with Mohg likely weighing on her mind. Malenia tilted her head towards Miquella, sensing her twin's reaction.

Miquella spoke up, his child-like voice carrying unexpected weight. "I agree, Godwyn. Despite our differences, they were family. And in death, perhaps we can offer the respect that was often absent in their life."

Godwyn's brow furrowed as he considered the dilemma. The traditional methods of burial for demigods were no longer viable in this changed world.

"The Erdtree is gone," he mused aloud, his voice tinged with a hint of sorrow. "And with it, our customary rites. The mausoleums have vanished, and Deeproot Depths..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

The group fell into a contemplative silence, each wrestling with the challenge of honoring their fallen kin in a world that had moved beyond their old ways.

It was Phillia who broke the silence, her tall form stepping forward. "If I may," she began, her voice steady and respectful, "we have a cemetery just outside the village."

All eyes turned to the albinauric leader as she continued, "While it's true that my people may not have held much love for the Omen brothers, we cannot deny the significance of their sacrifice. They fell helping to secure a future for all who dwell in the Lands Between."

Phillia's gaze swept across the assembled demigods, her expression solemn yet resolute. "It may not be the grand resting place they might have once expected, but our cemetery is peaceful and well-tended. It's the least we can offer to those who gave their lives for the greater good."

Godwyn's expression softened, a look of gratitude crossing his features. "Phillia, your offer is most generous. Thank you."

Radahn's deep voice rumbled in agreement. "A warrior's grave among those they protected. I can think of no finer resting place."

—

As the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, the somber burial ceremony concluded. The freshly turned earth of Morgott and Mohg's graves stood as silent testaments to their complex lives and ultimate sacrifice.

As the group stood in respectful silence, Godwyn suddenly straightened, his golden hair catching the last glimmers of twilight. "Brothers, sisters," he began, his voice carrying a note of determination, "I propose we do more than mourn tonight."

The others turned to him, curiosity evident in their expressions.

"We've achieved a great victory," Godwyn continued. "The Prince of Death is vanquished, and Limgrave stands liberated. Yes, we've lost Morgott and Mohg, and we will honor their memory. But we who remain..." He gestured to the assembled demigods, "We're here, together, in a place of relative safety. Perhaps it's time we allowed ourselves a moment to celebrate these hard-won victories."

Radahn's booming laugh broke the silence. "Now that's a suggestion I can get behind! A feast worthy of our triumphs!"

Maeve raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, well, Godwyn the Golden suggesting a party? Maybe you're not as stuffy as I thought."

Malenia tilted her head, considering. "It has been... a very long time since we've had cause for celebration."

Miquella nodded, his childlike face brightening. "I agree. A moment of joy amidst our struggles could reinvigorate our spirits."

Magnus looked around at the group, a small smile forming. "Then it's settled. Let us honor our fallen brothers by celebrating the life and unity they helped preserve."

As word spread through the village, villagers began preparing food and drink, while the demigods and their companions found themselves relaxing, if only slightly, for the first time in what felt like ages.

The night air soon filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and conversation.
As the night wore on, the celebration took on a life of its own, with various scenes of revelry unfolding across the village.

—

At one table, an unlikely trio had formed. Radahn's massive form dwarfed both Miquella and Maeve as they engaged in a spirited drinking contest. Miquella, hampered by his childlike body, struggled to keep up, his face flushed with effort and alcohol.

"Come on, big brother," Maeve taunted, her words slightly slurred. "Surely the brilliant Miquella can handle his drink better than that!"

Radahn let out a booming laugh, raising his enormous tankard. "Ha! You both drink like newborn babes compared to me!"

Maeve shot him a glare, her competitive spirit flaring. "Oh, we'll see about that, you overgrown lion!"

Meanwhile, the daughters of Malenia and Magnus had been expressly forbidden from partaking in the stronger drinks. However, their angelic status didn't preclude a bit of mischief. They had managed to get Eleanora, one of Magnus's archangels, sufficiently intoxicated to aid in their scheme.

"Just one more time, Eleanora," Mary whispered, trying to stifle a giggle. "Use your wings to swoop down and grab that jug from the Albinauric."

Eleanora, her usual stern demeanor softened by alcohol, nodded with a conspiratorial wink. "Alright, alright. But this is the last time!" She spread her wings and took off, executing a wobbly but effective swoop to snatch the jug.

In a cleared area of the village, Godwyn and Messmer had drawn a crowd as they faced off against a rotation of warriors from their armies and the village. The clang of steel and the cheers of onlookers filled the air as they demonstrated their prowess.

"Excellent form!" Godwyn called out to a knight who had just parried one of Messmer's strikes. "But watch your footwork!"

Messmer, his usual stoic demeanor replaced by a fierce grin, nodded in agreement. "Indeed. A solid defense, but remember - aggression can be its own form of protection!"

Near the center of the celebration, a peculiar scene was unfolding. Malenia stood, her keen senses attuned to the sounds of laughter and the scraping of a ceramic body against wood.

"Come on, Lord Magnus!" Jar-Bairn's enthusiastic voice rang out. "Surely the great Angel can best me in a test of strength!"

Magnus, chuckling, had seated himself across from the small living jar. "Very well, brave Jar-Bairn. Let's see what you've got!"

With a comical squeak of effort, Jar-Bairn threw his entire body into the arm-wrestling match. Despite his determination, Magnus's arm didn't budge an inch. With a gentle push, Magnus sent Jar-Bairn toppling backwards, his round body rocking on the ground as he struggled to right himself.

Far from being discouraged, Jar-Bairn's laughter echoed across the village. "Magnificent, Lord Magnus! Truly, your strength is unmatched!"

Malenia couldn't help but smile at the scene, the sound of Magnus's warm laughter mixing with Jar-Bairn's enthusiastic praise.

The drinking contest had reached its climax, with unexpected results. Miquella, his small frame finally overwhelmed by the alcohol, began retching violently. Radahn, surprisingly, had conceded defeat, his massive head resting on the table as he groaned softly.

Maeve stood triumphant, her arms raised in victory. "Ha! Take that, you lightweights!" she crowed, swaying slightly on her feet. "The true champion of the Lands Between stands before you!"

Malenia approached, drawn by the commotion. She couldn't suppress a chuckle as she helped steady Miquella. "Brother dear, perhaps this wasn't your wisest decision," she teased gently, patting his back as he continued to retch.

Across the way, a different sort of spectacle was unfolding. Gwen and Eleanora, both thoroughly inebriated, were engaged in an undignified tug-of-war over a nearly empty bottle.

"Let go!" Gwen slurred, yanking the bottle towards her. "I saw it first!"

Eleanora pulled back, her usual grace abandoning her. "No way! I nee... need it more!"

The girls, equally intoxicated, formed a circle around them, shouting encouragement and placing bets.

"Five acorns on Gwen!" Millicent called out.

"Ha! Ten on Eleanora!" Amy countered.

"Acorns?" Maureen asked.

Magnus, alerted by the noise, made his way over to the scene. As soon as his presence registered, a hush fell over the group. Gwen and Eleanora froze mid-tussle, their eyes wide with sudden realization.

Magnus crossed his arms, his expression a mix of amusement and disapproval. "Is this how my archangels conduct themselves?" he asked, his tone lightly scolding but with a hint of mirth.

The group collectively hung their heads, mumbling apologies. Gwen and Eleanora sheepishly offered the contested bottle to Magnus.

"We're sorry, Lord Magnus," Eleanora said, her words slightly slurred.

Magnus maintained his stern expression for a moment longer before breaking into a grin. He took the bottle, raised it in a mock toast, and then downed the remaining contents in one swift motion.

"Now then," he said, wiping his mouth, "perhaps it's time we found some more booze."

The group stared at him in shock for a moment before bursting into giggles, the tension broken.

Siluria and Devonia, the Crucible Knights, found themselves in an unusual role as matchmakers. They stood with Elaine, gently encouraging her.

"Come now, Elaine," Siluria urged, her typically stern voice softened. "Seroch is a fine warrior. You fought well together in Limgrave."

Devonia nodded in agreement. "There's no shame in admitting your feelings. Go on, speak with him."

Elaine, her cheeks flushed with more than just alcohol, nodded nervously. "You're right. I... I'll do it."

However, as Elaine approached Seroch's last known location, she found a rather anticlimactic scene. Seroch lay sprawled in some bushes, clearly having succumbed to the night's excesses. Elaine couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head at the sight.

"Oh, Seroch," she murmured, a mix of exasperation and fondness in her voice. "Perhaps this conversation can wait for a more... coherent moment."

Meanwhile, Godwyn found himself face to face with Master Hewg. The old blacksmith's eyes widened in shock, his hammer pausing mid-swing.

"By the Erdtree," Hewg muttered, his gruff voice tinged with disbelief. "Godwyn the Golden. I thought you were dead, lad."

Godwyn smiled warmly, inclining his head. "I was, Master Hewg. But not anymore."

Hewg grunted, turning back to his forge. "Must be nice," he said, his tone unreadable. "To get a second chance like that."

As Hewg shuffled away, Godwyn's gaze was drawn to a solitary figure on a nearby hill. Lansseax stood alone, her silver hair gleaming in the moonlight. Godwyn approached his old friend, concern etched on his features.

"Lansseax," he called softly. "Are you alright? You seem... distant."

Lansseax turned to him, a small smile gracing her lips. "Godwyn, old friend. I'm fine, truly. Just... lost in thought."

Godwyn followed her gaze, realizing she had been watching Magnus, who was laughing with a group of villagers. A flicker of understanding crossed Godwyn's face.

"You care for him," Godwyn stated gently, not a question but an observation.

Lansseax's smile turned wistful. "Is it that obvious? Yes, I suppose I do. But it's... complicated."

Godwyn placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Matters of the heart often are, my friend. Especially for beings like us, who have seen so much time pass."

Lansseax nodded, her eyes still fixed on Magnus. "Indeed. But seeing him happy, seeing all of you reunited and working towards a better future... it gives me hope, Godwyn. Hope I haven't felt in a very long time."

Godwyn listened intently as Lansseax recounted her history with Magnus, his expression a mix of empathy and curiosity.

"It was long ago," Lansseax began, her voice soft with reminiscence. "Magnus was young, patrolling the lands alone. This was before your return, before any of you came back. He found me wounded and, despite my attempts to drive him away, he stayed. He tended my wounds, protected me from raiders."

She paused, a faint smile touching her lips. "His kindness... it was unexpected. He invited me to the Shaded Castle, and for years we fought side by side. What grew between us... it was gradual, almost imperceptible."

Lansseax's gaze grew distant. "I told myself it wasn't love. Perhaps I was afraid to admit it. But when he died..." Her voice caught slightly. "When I lost him, I realized the depth of my feelings."

Godwyn nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of her words.

"And then he returned," Lansseax continued, her tone tinged with a complex mix of emotions. "But his memories were gone, and he had found Malenia. When his memories returned, I could see it in his eyes - his love for her was true, deep."

She turned to Godwyn, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I am truly happy for him, Godwyn. Magnus deserves such joy. And yet..." She trailed off, struggling to find the words.

"And yet it hurts," Godwyn finished gently.

Lansseax nodded, a single tear escaping down her cheek. "Yes. I hate that it hurts. I hate that I can't simply be content with his happiness. But the heart... it doesn't always listen to reason, does it?"

Godwyn placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "No, it doesn't. Your feelings are valid, Lansseax. To love, to lose, to see that love find another... it's a pain few can truly understand."

They stood in silence for a moment, watching the celebration below. Magnus's laughter carried up to them on the night breeze.

"Thank you, Godwyn," Lansseax said finally. "For listening, for understanding. It helps to speak of it, even if it changes nothing."

Godwyn smiled warmly at his old friend. "That's what friends are for, Lansseax. We've all carried our burdens alone for far too long. Perhaps that's something we can change, moving forward."

As they continued to watch over the festivities, there was a sense of a shared understanding between them - of the complexities of immortal lives, of love found and lost, and of the bittersweet nature of new beginnings.

As Godwyn and Lansseax stood together on the hill, their hands intertwined, a moment of unspoken connection passed between them. Their eyes met, and for a brief instant, a spark of something new and unexpected flickered to life.

Down in the village, a different scene was unfolding in Roderika's shack. The Spirit Tuner found herself in the unexpected role of caretaker to two very drunk archangels. Roderika's attempts to calm them were met with limited success.

"Please, you two, just sit still for a moment," Roderika pleaded, her voice tinged with exasperation.

Gwen, her inhibitions completely lowered by alcohol, suddenly blurted out, "You know, Magnus once asked me to be his consort!"

The revelation hung in the air for a moment before Roderika gasped, "He what?"

Even Eleanora, in her inebriated state, seemed shocked by this information. "Gwen, you can't just... that's not..."

But Gwen was beyond caring about discretion. Tears began to stream down her face as she launched into an impromptu, and rather inelegant, declaration of love.

"I love him so much!" Gwen wailed, her words slurring together. "He's so... so... Magnus-y! With his stupid perfect hair and his stupid perfect face and his stupid perfect everything!"

Roderika and Eleanora exchanged a look of bewildered concern as Gwen continued her drunken profession of love, unsure of how to handle this unexpected outpouring of emotion.

Meanwhile, in the night sky above the village, a peculiar race was taking place. Radahn, his massive form defying gravity, soared through the air, leaving trails of purple energy in his wake. Hot on his heels was Gaius, mounted atop his loyal boar, the beast's hooves seeming to find purchase on thin air.

"Come on, old friend!" Gaius shouted, urging his mount forward. "Show this Starscourge what real speed looks like!"

From the ground, Messmer watched the aerial spectacle with undisguised amusement. His usual stoic demeanor had given way to a broad grin, his golden eyes tracking the unlikely racers as they careened through the night.

"Now there's something you don't see every day," Messmer mused to himself, shaking his head in wonderment at the absurd yet oddly heartening scene playing out above.

At one table, Magnus and Miquella had embarked on what seemed to be an impossible mission: getting Malenia drunk. Despite their best efforts, Malenia remained remarkably composed, her tolerance seemingly unaffected by the staggering amount of alcohol she had consumed.

"Come on, sister," Miquella cajoled, his own words slightly slurred. "Surely even the Blade of Miquella has her limits?"

Magnus, grinning mischievously, added, "Are you admitting defeat, Malenia? Perhaps the rot has dulled your taste for a real challenge?"

Malenia's eye narrowed at the taunt, her voice steady as she uttered her famous words: "I have never known defeat."

With that declaration, she grabbed another drink and downed it in one smooth motion, much to the amazement and amusement of her companions.

Elsewhere in the village, Malenia's daughters had taken it upon themselves to find potential suitors, turning it into something of a competition. Millicent, Mary, Maureen, and Amy seemed to be having varying degrees of success, while Polyanna was struggling noticeably.

"Oh, come on!" Polyanna groaned as yet another potential suitor walked away. "This isn't fair!"

Amy couldn't help but giggle. "Maybe if you didn't lead with 'Want to see my celestial claws?' you'd have better luck!"

The other sisters joined in the laughter, their teasing good-natured despite Polyanna's growing frustration.

In another corner of the celebration, a crowd had gathered around Siluria and Devonia. The two Crucible Knights, usually so stoic, were regaling their audience with tales of their former lord, Godfrey.

"And then," Siluria said, her voice carrying a hint of awe even after all this time, "Godfrey picked up the entire troll and used it as a club against the giant!"

Devonia nodded, adding, "I once saw him wrestle a dragon to the ground with his bare hands. Bare hands!"

The knights from various armies listened in rapt attention, their eyes wide with wonder at the feats of the legendary Elden Lord.

"Is it true he fought without armor?" one of the Redmanes asked.

Siluria and Devonia exchanged a look before Devonia answered, "Not only without armor, but often without a weapon. He'd say his fists were all he needed."

The crowd erupted in excited murmurs, the stories of Godfrey's exploits fueling their imagination and admiration.

Back in Roderika's shack, the situation had devolved into an unexpected and rather entertaining spectacle. Gwen, thoroughly inebriated, had launched into a detailed and increasingly dramatic account of her feelings for Magnus and her fantasies of becoming his consort.

"You don't understand," Gwen slurred, gesticulating wildly and nearly knocking over a nearby vase. "He's just so... so... Magnus! The way his hair gleams in the sunlight like spun gold, and those wings! Oh, those wings!"

Roderika and Eleanora exchanged glances, torn between amusement and concern. They had never seen the usually composed archangel in such a state.

"And his eyes!" Gwen continued, oblivious to their reactions. "Have you ever really looked into his eyes? It's like staring into the depths of the cosmos itself! I could get lost in those eyes for eternity!"

Eleanora snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. "Gwen, maybe you should slow down a bit-"

But Gwen was on a roll. "No, no, you need to hear this! Picture it: Magnus and me, ruling side by side as consort and... and... whatever he is now. Angel King? Doesn't matter! We'd bring peace to the Lands Between with the power of love and really, really good looks!"

Roderika couldn't help but giggle. "And how exactly would that work, Gwen?"

Gwen's face scrunched up in drunken concentration. "Well, obviously, we'd start by making everyone wear wings. Not real ones, mind you. That'd be silly. Just... wing accessories. To remind them of our angelic benevolence!"

Eleanora burst out laughing. "Wing accessories? Oh, that's brilliant. I'm sure Radahn would love that."

"Radahn would look majestic in little fuzzy wings!" Gwen declared, before suddenly looking very serious. "But not as majestic as Magnus. No one's as majestic as Magnus. Did I mention his hair?"

"Only about a dozen times," Roderika said, patting Gwen's hand sympathetically.

Gwen nodded solemnly. "Good. Because it's very important. It's like... like a golden waterfall of perfection. I bet it smells like sunshine and victory."

"I don't think sunshine has a smell, Gwen," Eleanora pointed out.

"It does on Magnus!" Gwen insisted, slamming her hand on the table for emphasis. "Everything about him is perfect. Even his toes are probably perfect. Not that I've looked at his toes. Much."

Roderika and Eleanora exchanged another look, this time of mild concern.

"And when we're consorts," Gwen continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "we'll have the most beautiful angel babies. They'll have his eyes, my wit, and more wings than they know what to do with!"

"Gwen," Eleanora said gently, "I'm not sure that's how angel genetics work-"

"Shush!" Gwen waved her hand dismissively. "Don't ruin my fantasy with your 'logic' and 'facts.' This is about love! Pure, unadulterated, winged love!"

As Gwen launched into a detailed description of the imaginary palace she and Magnus would inhabit, complete with "cloud couches" and "moonbeam curtains," Roderika and Eleanora settled in for what promised to be a long night of increasingly outlandish declarations of love and fanciful plans for angelic domination.

Meanwhile, across the village, Messmer found himself cornered by an uncharacteristically inquisitive and very drunk Radahn.

"Now listen here, you serpent-loving fire knight," Radahn slurred, swaying slightly as he loomed over Messmer. "I've got a very important question for you. Did you or did you not sleep with my Aunt Rellana?"

Messmer, caught off guard by the directness of the question, attempted to deflect. "Radahn, I hardly think this is an appropriate topic-"

"Aha!" Radahn bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger. "Your evasion speaks volumes! Out with it, man!"

Under Radahn's intense, if somewhat unfocused, gaze, Messmer finally sighed. "Very well. Yes, Rennala and I did... share a brief dalliance."

Radahn's eyes widened comically. "I knew it! By the stars above, I'll call down the heavens themselves for this affront to family honor!"

As Radahn began to gesticulate wildly, purple energy swirling around him, Messmer found himself in the unusual position of trying to talk down a drunken, celestial-body-wielding demigod.

Godwyn approached the scene of Malenia retching violently, with Magnus and Miquella standing nearby, looking far too pleased with themselves.

"What in the name of the Erdtree is going on here?" Godwyn asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Magnus, grinning widely, declared, "Behold, brother! The Blade of Miquella has finally known defeat!"

Miquella, barely containing his laughter, added, "It seems even the mighty Malenia has her limits when it comes to drinking!"

No sooner had the words left Miquella's mouth than Malenia straightened up, her face a mask of indignation despite her obvious discomfort. She raised her prosthetic arm, sword in hand, pointing it unsteadily at them.

"I... have never... known defeat," she growled, her words slightly slurred but no less menacing. "And I will not... hesitate to... to..."

Her threat was cut short as another wave of nausea hit her, forcing her to turn away once more. Magnus and Miquella exchanged triumphant glances, while Godwyn shook his head in a mixture of amusement and concern.

Elsewhere in the village, Seroch Zal finally stirred from his impromptu nap in the bushes. He stumbled out onto the path, his armor askew and leaves stuck in his hair. As he blinked blearily, trying to regain his bearings, he found himself face to face with Master Hewg.

The old blacksmith fixed Seroch with a withering stare. "And just what in the blazes do you think you're doing, lad?"

Seroch, still not fully aware of his surroundings, mumbled, "I... I'm not entirely sure, to be honest."

Hewg grunted disapprovingly. "Well, while you were off in dreamland, you missed your chance. Some lass came by earlier looking for you. Walked off when she saw you passed out like a greenhorn after his first taste of ale."

Seroch's eyes widened as the information slowly penetrated his alcohol-addled brain. "A woman? Looking for me? Who-"

But before he could finish his question, a wave of dizziness hit him, and he stumbled off in search of water or perhaps a quiet corner to recover. Hewg watched him go, shaking his head and muttering about the follies of youth.

Suddenly, a thunderous boom echoed across the village, causing everyone to pause in their revelry. Those nearest to the village outskirts rushed to investigate, only to be met with an unexpected sight.

There, just beyond the wooden palisades, lay the enormous form of Radahn, the Starscourge. The massive demigod had apparently succumbed to the effects of the night's celebration, passing out with such force that his impact had left a small crater in the earth.

Messmer, standing nearby with a look of resigned amusement, explained to the gathering crowd, "It seems our esteemed general forgot that while he can defy gravity, he cannot, unfortunately, defy the effects of excessive drinking."

As the villagers and soldiers gathered to gawk at the unconscious form of one of the mightiest warriors in the Lands Between, there was a mixture of awe, amusement, and more than a little concern about how exactly they were going to move him come morning.

As the night wore on, Malenia's daughters, save for Polyanna, had found varying degrees of success in their quest for companionship. Each had paired off with a suitor, finding quiet corners of the village to enjoy more intimate conversations.

Millicent was engaged in animated discussion with a Gelmir Knight, her golden prosthetic arm gesticulating as she regaled him with tales of her adventures. Mary had found herself drawn to one of the albinaurics, their conversation a mix of shared experiences and curious questions about each other's worlds. Maureen was flirting shamelessly with a Redmane soldier, her remaining eye twinkling with mischief. Amy had surprised everyone by hitting it off with one of Messmer's Fire Knights, their heads close together as they whispered and laughed.

Polyanna, however, was not taking her lack of success lying down. A plan for revenge had formed in her mind, fueled by a potent mixture of alcohol and wounded pride. She moved through the shadows, her celestial claws at the ready, as she set about sabotaging her sisters' romantic endeavors.

Her first target was Millicent's Gelmir Knight. As the pair walked past a row of barrels, Polyanna used her claws to subtly cut one open. The resulting flood of ale swept the knight off his feet, leaving him sputtering and Millicent torn between concern and laughter.

Next, she set her sights on Mary's albinauric companion. Using her angelic abilities, she created a small illusion of a grotesque creature right behind the albinauric. The poor fellow leapt nearly a foot in the air, much to Mary's confusion and Polyanna's hidden amusement.

For Maureen's Redmane soldier, Polyanna employed a more direct approach. She "accidentally" bumped into him, using the moment of contact to plant a handful of itching powder down the back of his armor. Within minutes, the soldier was squirming uncomfortably, his attempts at suave flirtation ruined by uncontrollable scratching.

Finally, she turned her attention to Amy and the Fire Knight. This required a more delicate touch. Polyanna managed to sneak close enough to whisper an incantation, causing the Fire Knight's carefully controlled flames to suddenly flare up, singeing his eyebrows and sending Amy jumping back in surprise.

As Polyanna retreated to a safe vantage point to observe the chaos she had wrought, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Her sisters' romantic escapades lay in ruins around them, and while a small part of her felt guilty, a larger part reveled in this petty revenge.

However, her moment of triumph was short-lived. As she turned to make her escape, she found herself face to face with Magnus, his expression a mixture of disappointment and amusement.

"Enjoying yourself, Polyanna?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Polyanna's face flushed with embarrassment as she realized her mischief had not gone unnoticed. She began to stammer out an explanation, but Magnus held up a hand to stop her.

As Magnus led Polyanna around the corner, away from the scene of her mischief, his serious expression suddenly broke into a mischievous grin. "You know, Polyanna," he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "if you're going to pull pranks, you should at least invite me along."

Polyanna's eyes widened in surprise before a matching grin spread across her face. "Really? You're not mad?"

Magnus chuckled softly. "Mad? No. Impressed by your creativity? Absolutely. But I think we can do better."

The two huddled together, their voices dropping to whispers as they began to scheme. Magnus's eyes twinkled with barely contained laughter as Polyanna eagerly shared her ideas, which he refined with his own touch.

"What if we enchanted the drinks to change everyone's hair color?" Polyanna suggested excitedly.

Magnus nodded approvingly. "Not bad, but let's take it a step further."

Meanwhile, in another part of the village, Maeve found herself in an unexpected situation. An Albinauric, clearly awestruck by her presence, had approached her with fumbling attempts at flirtation. Maeve's initial reaction was one of disgust, her nose wrinkling at the attention.

However, as she observed the Albinauric's earnest, if clumsy, efforts, a wicked idea formed in her mind. Why not have some fun with this?

"Oh my," Maeve purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Aren't you a bold one?"

The Albinauric, emboldened by her apparent interest, straightened up. "My lady, your beauty outshines even the stars themselves!"

Maeve had to stifle a laugh at the overwrought compliment. "How poetic," she cooed. "Tell me more about how you see me."

As the Albinauric launched into an increasingly grandiose series of compliments, Maeve played along, batting her eyelashes and gasping in feigned delight. She led him on a merry dance of flirtation, always staying just out of reach, her amusement growing with each passing moment.

"Oh, but surely a strong, handsome Albinauric like yourself must have many admirers," Maeve said, her voice honeyed but her eyes glinting with mischief.

The poor Albinauric, completely taken in by her act, puffed up with pride. "None compare to you, my crimson-haired goddess!"

Maeve smirked, "crimson haired goddess ey?"

Gwen's drunken storytelling had attracted quite an audience. Elaine, Devonia, and Siluria had joined Roderika and Eleanora, all listening with a mixture of amusement, fascination, and mild concern as Gwen continued to spin her elaborate fantasy.

"And then," Gwen slurred, gesticulating wildly, "Magnus and I will host grand feasts in our cloud palace! Everyone will be required to wear little halos."

Elaine, trying to hide her smirk, raised a pertinent question. "But Gwen, what about Malenia in all this? She and Magnus are together, after all."

Gwen paused, her brow furrowing as if this thought hadn't occurred to her until now. The others leaned in, curious to see how she'd handle this complication in her fantasy.

After a moment of drunken contemplation, Gwen's face lit up with a new idea. "Oh! Oh! I've got it!" she exclaimed, nearly falling off her seat in excitement. "We'll share him."

Devonia choked on her drink, while Siluria's eyes widened in surprise.

Undeterred, Gwen continued, "Think about it! Magnus, me, and Malenia. We'd be unstoppable!"

Eleanora, despite her own inebriation, tried to interject. "Gwen, maybe we should change the subject-"

But Gwen was on a roll. "No, no, this is perfect! We'll all have matching wings. Magnus's white ones, my spectral ones, and we'll figure something out for Malenia. Maybe gold to match her prosthetics? Ooh, and we can take turns wearing the crown!"

Roderika, caught between embarrassment and amusement, couldn't help but ask, "And... how do you think Malenia would feel about this arrangement?"

Gwen waved her hand dismissively. "Details, details. I'm sure she'd be into it once she sees the most fabulous royal wardrobe in history!"

Siluria leaned over to Devonia, whispering, "Should we... stop her?"

Devonia shook her head, a rare smile playing on her lips. "And miss the rest of this spectacle? Not a chance."

Magnus and Polyanna moved through the celebration like mischievous shadows, their pranks growing more elaborate with each target.

They started with Godwyn, slipping a concoction into his drink that caused his innate lightning to flicker erratically. The once-regal demigod now sparkled like a faulty string of festive lights, much to the amusement and confusion of those around him.

For Messmer, they employed a specially crafted mist that affected his serpents. The usually well-behaved creatures began acting out, one trying to braid Messmer's hair while the other attempted to steal snacks from nearby plates. Messmer's usual stoic demeanor cracked as he struggled to control his suddenly rebellious companions.

Miquella fell victim to a more subtle prank. Magnus and Polyanna whispered to an Albinauric woman, convincing her that Miquella had been admiring her all evening. The woman approached the eternally youthful demigod, her flirtations leaving Miquella flustered and bewildered, unsure how to handle the unexpected attention.

The girls' suitors weren't spared either. As the young men approached their romantic interests for another attempt at flirtation, they were suddenly struck with uncontrollable flatulence. The girls' expressions ranged from shock to disgust to barely contained laughter as their would-be paramours fled in embarrassment.

Polyanna took particular delight in dressing up the drunken Seroch. As he stumbled around searching for Elaine, he remained oblivious to the fact that he now sported a frilly apron, a flower crown, and mismatched boots. His slurred calls for Elaine were punctuated by the jingle of bells Polyanna had somehow managed to attach to his armor.

Finally, they turned their attention to the unconscious form of Radahn. Armed with an assortment of pigments, Magnus and Polyanna gleefully drew on the Starscourge's face and armor. By the time they finished, Radahn sported a monocle, a curly mustache, and what appeared to be a rather detailed map of the Lands Between across his breastplate.

As they admired their handiwork, Magnus turned to Polyanna with a grin. "You know, I think we've outdone ourselves. But remember, with great pranking power comes great responsibility."

Magnus and Polyanna crept through the village, riding high on their successful pranking spree. Their eyes gleamed with mischief as they searched for their next target: Maeve.

"Oh, this is going to be good," Polyanna whispered excitedly. "What should we do to her? Turn her hair green? Make her speak in rhymes?"

Magnus chuckled softly. "Let's see what she's up to first. Knowing Maeve, she might already be causing enough chaos on her own."

As they rounded a corner, both suddenly froze in their tracks. There, in a secluded alcove, was Maeve - locked in a passionate embrace with an Albinauric man. The very same Albinauric she had been toying with earlier was now thoroughly entwined with her, their lips pressed together in a fervent kiss.

Magnus's eyes widened to an almost comical degree, his jaw dropping open. Polyanna let out a tiny squeak of surprise before clapping her hands over her mouth.

For a moment, they stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Magnus, the powerful demigod who had faced countless horrors, looked as if he'd been struck by lightning. Polyanna's expression cycled rapidly through shock, disbelief, and a hint of horrified fascination.

Slowly, very slowly, they began to back away. Neither dared to make a sound, afraid of drawing attention to themselves or disrupting the unexpected scene before them.

Once they were safely around the corner and out of earshot, Polyanna finally found her voice. "Did... did we just see what I think we saw?"

Magnus nodded mutely, still looking shell-shocked.

"Should we... do something?" Polyanna asked uncertainly.

Magnus shook his head vigorously. "No. No, I think we've seen quite enough for one night. Some things are beyond even our pranking abilities."

As they walked away, both silently agreed that perhaps it was time to call it a night on their pranking adventures. After all, nothing they could do would top the surprise Maeve had unwittingly provided.

In the secluded alcove, Maeve and the Albinauric continued their passionate encounter. In a moment of heightened emotion, the Albinauric pulled back slightly, his eyes shining with adoration.

" Crimson Goddess Maeve," he breathed, "I... I think I love you."

Maeve froze, her expression shifting from passion to incredulity in an instant. She stared at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head.

"Are you an idiot?" she asked bluntly, her tone a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.

The Albinauric's face fell, confusion replacing his lovestruck expression.

Maeve rolled her eyes. "Look, just... shut up and continue, alright? That's all this is."

After a moment of hesitation, the Albinauric nodded eagerly. "Yes, of course. Whatever you say."

As they resumed their activities, Maeve couldn't help but shake her head slightly at the absurdity of the situation she found herself in.

Meanwhile, in Roderika's shack, Gwen was in the midst of describing an elaborate scenario involving herself, Magnus, and Malenia ruling from a palace made of clouds and starlight.

"And then," she slurred, gesticulating wildly, "we'd have a royal proclamation making wing accessories mandatory for all citizens-"

Suddenly, her storytelling was interrupted by a commotion outside. Seroch's voice rang out, calling for Elaine.

"Elaine! Where are you? I must speak with you!"

The group in the shack fell silent, turning to look at the doorway. Seroch stumbled into view, still adorned in the ridiculous outfit Polyanna had dressed him in. The frilly apron fluttered in the breeze, the flower crown sat askew on his head, and the mismatched boots jingled with every step.

For a moment, everyone stared in stunned silence. Elaine's face cycled through a range of emotions - surprise, embarrassment, and finally, a hint of amusement.

Eleanora, ever practical even in her inebriated state, spoke up. "Seroch, I think you might want to look at what you're wearing."

Seroch blinked in confusion, then looked down at himself. His eyes widened in horror as he took in his appearance. Without a word, he turned and fled, the jingling of his boots fading into the distance.

Gwen watched him go, then turned back to her captive audience. "Well," she declared, "that was weird." She paused for a moment, then brightened. "Now, where was I? Oh yes! So, in our cloud palace..."

Magnus and Polyanna, still buzzing from their pranking spree and the unexpected sight of Maeve, found Malenia standing near the edge of the celebration. Her posture was as regal as ever, despite the numerous drinks she had consumed earlier.

"And what mischief have you two been up to?" Malenia asked, her tone a mixture of amusement and suspicion.

Polyanna, caught up in the excitement and perhaps still a bit tipsy, blurted out, "Father and I have been pranking everyone!"

Magnus winced slightly at being so directly implicated, as well as being called father, but couldn't help chuckling at Polyanna's enthusiasm. Malenia raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Is that so?" she mused. "I should have known you two would find trouble together."

Suddenly, a chorus of voices caught their attention. Turning, they saw a group approaching - and they did not look amused.

Godwyn led the pack, his body still flickering with erratic lightning. Behind him, Messmer struggled to control his misbehaving serpents. Miquella followed, looking flustered and confused, with the flirtatious Albinauric woman still trailing after him. The girls came next, their faces a mix of embarrassment and annoyance, followed by their still-flatulent suitors. A disgruntled Seroch brought up the rear, jangling with every step in his mismatched, belled boots.

"Magnus," Godwyn began, his voice stern despite the comical light show emanating from his body, "I believe you have some explaining to do."

Messmer nodded in agreement, wincing as one of his serpents attempted to snatch a passing tray of drinks. "Indeed. This behavior is... most unlike you."

The girls chimed in with their own complaints, while their suitors looked too mortified to speak.

Magnus and Polyanna exchanged a glance, realizing they had perhaps taken their fun a bit too far. Malenia, observing the scene, couldn't decide whether to be amused or exasperated.

As the confrontation was about to reach its peak, an unexpected distraction rolled through the village. Jar-Bairn came barreling down the path, a group of giggling children chasing after him.

"Wheee! Faster, Jar-Bairn!" one child called out.

Jar-Bairn's ceramic body clattered against the ground as he rolled, his voice a mix of excitement and mild panic. "Oh my, oh my! This is quite the adventure!"

The sudden commotion drew everyone's attention, providing Magnus and Polyanna with the perfect opportunity to slip away. They exchanged a quick glance before darting off in opposite directions, leaving their accusers momentarily bewildered.

Magnus, in his haste to escape, took a wrong turn and found himself face to face with a scene he was entirely unprepared for. There, in a secluded corner, were Maeve and the Albinauric, both completely unclothed.

Magnus's eyes widened in shock, and he felt his stomach lurch. "By the Erdtree!" he exclaimed, quickly averting his gaze.

Maeve, caught off guard, scrambled to cover herself. "Magnus! What the hell?!" she screeched, her face a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

Magnus, still not looking directly at them, started to stammer out an apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

But Maeve cut him off, her voice sharp. "Oh, shut up! Don't you dare judge me. When you and I shared a mind, I had to endure every moment you and Malenia spent together. Every. Single. Moment."

The Albinauric looked between them, clearly confused and uncomfortable.

Magnus, his face now a deep shade of red, nodded quickly. "Right. Yes. Of course. I'll just... I'll go now."

As he turned to leave, Maeve called after him, "And don't you dare tell anyone about this!"

Magnus hurried away, his mind reeling from what he'd just witnessed and Maeve's words. He made a mental note to find a way to erase this particular memory as soon as possible.

Amy stood with her sisters, her face a mixture of disappointment and frustration. As Polyanna approached, Amy shot her a venomous glare. "Happy now?" she snarled. The other girls gathered closer, offering comfort to Amy while giving Polyanna wary looks.

Millicent sighed, "Come on, Amy. It's not worth getting upset over."

"Easy for you to say," Amy retorted, but her anger seemed to deflate slightly as her sisters continued to console her.

Nearby, the massive form of Lansseax in her dragon form lay sprawled across a large portion of the village square. Soft snores emanated from her scaled body, causing small tremors in the ground with each exhalation.

Radahn, having briefly regained consciousness, was being guided by a patient Gaius towards a comfortable-looking cluster of bushes.

"There we go, General," Gaius said soothingly. "Just a nice place to rest your head."

Radahn mumbled something incomprehensible before collapsing into the greenery, immediately resuming his snoring.

Messmer stood off to one side, gently stroking his serpents. The creatures, finally calm, coiled docilely around his arms.

"There, there," he murmured. "No more mischief for tonight, hmm?"

In a quiet corner of the village, Seroch, now properly dressed and somewhat more sober, looked around in vain for Elaine. Unbeknownst to him, she had succumbed to sleep not long ago, curled up in a makeshift bed in one of the village huts.

At the center of it all, Godwyn and Malenia watched with a mixture of amusement and sympathy as Miquella attempted to let down the persistent Albinauric woman gently.

"My dear lady," Miquella said, his childlike voice strained with politeness, "while I'm flattered by your attention, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding..."

The woman leaned in closer, "But surely, a being as magnificent as yourself-"

Miquella shot a pleading look at his sister and Godwyn, silently begging for assistance.

Malenia chuckled softly. "Should we help him?"

Godwyn shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Give it a moment."

As Magnus made his way towards his tent, fatigue from the night's events beginning to set in, he encountered Eleanora struggling to carry a barely conscious Gwen.

"Is everything alright?" Magnus asked, noticing Gwen's incoherent mumbling.

Eleanora's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. "Oh, um, yes, Lord Magnus. Gwen's just... had a bit too much to drink. I'm taking her to rest."

Magnus raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story, but before he could inquire further, Eleanora hurried off, Gwen's unintelligible murmurs fading into the night.

Shaking his head, Magnus continued on his way, only to be confronted by another unexpected sight. Maeve emerged from the shadows, carrying the limp form of the Albinauric man in her arms.

Magnus halted, taking in the scene before him. The Albinauric's head lolled against Maeve's shoulder, clearly unconscious. Maeve's expression was a mixture of smugness and mild annoyance.

"What in the name of the Erdtree happened?" Magnus asked, unable to mask his shock.

Maeve's lips curled into a wicked smirk. "Oh, nothing much. He just couldn't handle me. Passed out mid-act, if you must know."

Magnus recoiled, his face contorting in disgust. "Maeve, please, I don't need the details-"

"Oh, hush," Maeve cut him off, her eyes glinting with mischief and a hint of challenge. "Don't act so prudish. Need I remind you of all the times I had to endure your and Malenia's... activities?"

Magnus's face flushed deep red, memories of their shared consciousness flooding back.

Maeve continued, her voice a mix of teasing and mild irritation, "I had front-row seats to every passionate embrace, every stolen kiss, every... intimate moment. Trust me, brother dear, nothing you see here can compare to what I've experienced."

Magnus stood there, mortified and speechless, as Maeve adjusted her grip on the unconscious Albinauric.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Maeve said, her tone suddenly businesslike, "I need to find somewhere to dump this lightweight. Good night, feather boy."

With that, she sauntered off into the night, leaving Magnus standing there, desperately trying to banish the images her words had conjured.

Magnus finally reached his tent, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. Noticing Malenia's absence, he collapsed onto the bed, succumbing to sleep almost instantly.

Malenia entered shortly after, quietly joining him in their shared space.

Chapter End Notes

Had to go back and make a couple of edits. Site went down for me when I first tried posting this.

The Lost Queen

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter fornotes

As the night deepened, Magnus found himself plunged into a dream—or perhaps a nightmare, or even a vision. The lines blurred, leaving him uncertain of its true nature.

Black flames danced across his mind's eye, intertwining with the chaotic fire of Frenzy. The ominous presence of Destined Death loomed in the background. The scene shifted, revealing a body floating in the waters of Liurnia, its identity obscured.

A gloam-eyed woman appeared, her voice barely audible as she called out to him. Magnus strained to hear her whispers, catching only a single word: "grandson."

The vision changed again. A great storm raged in the heart of a city, and at its center, a dragon hovered, suspended in the tempest.

Next, he saw a massive tree—not the golden Erdtree, but what he suspected to be the Haligtree, its branches reaching towards an unseen sky.

The final image was the most disturbing: ground soaked in blood, white feathers scattered around the crimson pool, and a large bloody axe lying nearby.

Magnus jolted awake, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body drenched in sweat. His sudden movement and labored breathing roused Malenia, who instinctively reached for her weapon, ready to face any threat.

"Magnus?" she called, her voice tense with concern. "What's wrong?"

Magnus remained silent for a moment, his mind still reeling from the vivid images. Malenia, interpreting his silence as reluctance, gently pressed him.

"Magnus, please," she said, her voice softening. "Remember what happened last time you kept your troubles to yourself? The Greater Will..."

Magnus let out a short, rueful laugh. "I assure you, I'm not trying to hide anything. I'm just... processing."

He then recounted the vision to Malenia, describing each scene in detail. As he spoke, he tried to make sense of what he had seen.

"The black flames and Frenzied Fire... that must be connected to the Godskin Monarch," he mused. "And the dragon in the storm... I believe that was Dragonlord Placidusax, whom Lansseax and Fortissax once served."

At the mention of the great tree, Malenia sighed deeply, old memories stirring within her. Magnus noticed her reaction but continued, "I've never seen the Haligtree, so I can't be certain, but it felt... significant."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the vision hanging between them. Then, as if by mutual agreement, they decided not to let it overshadow the joyous night they had just experienced.

Malenia, seeking to lighten the mood, playfully scolded Magnus. "So, you thought you could get me drunk and pull pranks on everyone, did you?"

Magnus grinned, his earlier unease fading. "Well, I had to try something to see the great Malenia lose her composure."

With a swift movement, Malenia tackled him onto the bed, pinning him down. "I'll show you loss of composure," she teased.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, the vision momentarily forgotten. However, their moment was interrupted by the sound of arguing outside their tent.

"I can't believe you did that!" Amy's voice rang out.

"Oh, come on, it was just a bit of fun!" Polyanna retorted.

Magnus and Malenia broke apart, sharing a look that was equal parts exasperation and amusement.

"It seems our daughters are still sorting out the night's events," Malenia sighed.

Magnus nodded, a wry smile on his face. "Perhaps we should intervene before they wake the entire camp?"

Magnus and Malenia emerged from their tent to find their daughters standing at attention, their spectral wings materializing behind them - all except for Millicent, who seemed to be struggling.

"Having trouble there, Millicent?" Maureen teased. "Too much ale clouding your focus?"

Millicent shot her sister a glare but said nothing.

Malenia, her voice a mixture of surprise and curiosity, asked, "What exactly are you all doing?"

"We're ready for patrol, Mother," Mary answered promptly.

Magnus and Malenia exchanged a glance, both impressed and slightly bemused by their daughters' dedication despite the previous night's revelry.

"Very well," Magnus said after a moment. "You may go, but exercise caution. If you spot any danger, return immediately. Understood?"

The girls nodded in unison, their faces bright with enthusiasm. As they prepared to take flight, Magnus suddenly realized something was amiss.

"Wait," he called out. "Where are Gwen and Eleanora?"

The girls looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders. "We haven't seen them," Amy replied.

With that, they took to the sky, their spectral wings carrying them swiftly into the dawn light.

As Magnus and Malenia watched them depart, a commotion from behind caught their attention. They turned to see Miquella marching up the slope, his childlike face contorted with annoyance. He pointed an accusatory finger at Magnus.

"You!" Miquella exclaimed, his voice filled with exasperation. "Do you have any idea what I had to endure because of your little prank?"

Magnus tried to suppress a smile, remembering the persistent Albinauric woman. "Miquella, I-"

But Miquella wasn't finished. "That woman followed me around all night! She wouldn't take no for an answer! Do you know how difficult it is to let someone down gently when you're stuck in the body of a child?"

Malenia, caught between amusement at her twin's predicament and sympathy for his frustration, placed a calming hand on Miquella's shoulder. "Brother, perhaps we should discuss this over breakfast? I'm sure Magnus didn't intend for things to go quite so far."

Miquella took a deep breath, his anger deflating slightly. "Fine. But this discussion isn't over, Magnus. And you owe me. Big time."

Radahn stirred in the bushes, his massive form causing leaves and twigs to scatter as he sat up. He blinked, confusion etched on his face as he tried to piece together the events of the previous night. As he made his way through the camp, he couldn't help but notice the barely suppressed laughter and pointed looks from those he passed.

Spotting Godwyn, Radahn approached him, his brow furrowed. "Brother, is something amiss? Everyone seems to be... unusually mirthful this morning."

Godwyn, upon seeing Radahn's face, burst into laughter, unable to contain himself any longer. Between chuckles, he managed to explain, "It seems... you fell victim... to Magnus and Polyanna's pranks last night."

Meanwhile, in the feast hall, Magnus, Malenia, and Miquella entered, immediately drawing the attention of many present. Magnus, seemingly unfazed by the scrutiny, simply smiled as he made his way to the food.

As they settled beside Siluria and Devonia, Magnus realized he hadn't seen the Crucible Knights the night before. "Where were you two last evening? I don't recall seeing you amidst the... festivities."

Siluria and Devonia exchanged a knowing look before turning their gaze to Malenia. "We were with Gwen," Siluria explained, a hint of amusement in her usually stern voice.

"Indeed," Devonia added. "She was having quite the... eventful night."

Malenia raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? And what exactly does that mean?"

The Crucible Knights chuckled, an unusual sound coming from the typically stoic warriors. "Let's just say," Siluria began, "that Gwen had a lot to say about certain... arrangements she envisioned for the future."

As they continued their meal, the feast hall buzzed with conversation, much of it centered around the previous night's events. Magnus found himself both dreading and looking forward to discovering what other consequences his night of mischief might have wrought.

Gwen jolted awake, sputtering and gasping as cold water cascaded over her. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus her bleary vision, only to see Eleanora standing over her with an empty bucket.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Eleanora announced, far too cheerfully for Gwen's liking. "We're late for patrol!"

Gwen's eyes widened in panic, her head pounding as she tried to scramble to her feet. "What? No, no, no! We can't be late! Magnus will-"

Eleanora's laughter cut her off. "Relax, I'm just messing with you. The girls left a while ago."

Gwen slumped back down, relief washing over her before being quickly replaced by the throbbing pain in her head. "Ugh... what happened last night?"

Eleanora's expression shifted from amusement to curiosity. "That's exactly what I'd like to know. You were quite... talkative last night. Don't you remember?"

Gwen shook her head, immediately regretting the movement as it intensified her headache. "Not really... everything's a blur."

"Well," Eleanora began, a mischievous glint in her eye, "allow me to fill you in. You had quite a lot to say about Magnus, Malenia, and your... plans for the future."

As Eleanora recounted Gwen's drunken ramblings, Gwen's face cycled through various shades of red, her eyes growing wider with each revelation.

"I said WHAT?" Gwen squeaked, mortification setting in.

Eleanora nodded, barely containing her amusement. "Oh yes, and that was just the beginning. You went into great detail about cloud palaces, matching wings, and something about mandatory halos for all citizens."

Gwen groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Please tell me Magnus didn't hear any of this."

"Well, I managed to get you away before you could announce it to the entire village," Eleanora reassured her. "But Siluria and Devonia were there for most of it."

Gwen peeked through her fingers, her voice muffled. "The Crucible Knights? Oh no..."

Eleanora patted Gwen's shoulder sympathetically. "Look on the bright side. At least you didn't actually confess all this to Magnus directly."

Gwen let out a long, pained sigh. "Small mercies, I suppose. Eleanora, promise me something?"

"What's that?"

"Never, ever let me drink that much again."

Eleanora chuckled, helping Gwen to her feet. "Come on, let's get you some water and breakfast. Something tells me you're going to need all your strength to face the day ahead."

Godwyn joined the group at the table, his expression thoughtful. "We should discuss our next move," he said, looking around at his fellow demigods.

Magnus, his mouth full of food, could only shrug in response. After swallowing, he asked, "Has anyone seen Maeve this morning?"

The others shook their heads, and a brief look of concern crossed Magnus's face before he returned to the matter at hand.

"We're not ready to confront the Frenzied Flame yet," Miquella stated, his childlike voice carrying the weight of centuries. "Our forces are still too few."

Malenia nodded in agreement. "And Leyndell remains out of reach. The land has shifted too much."

Magnus leaned back, considering. "I've already covered much of what remains accessible. Limgrave, the Weeping Peninsula, Caelid, most of Altus Plateau, and Mt. Gelmir. I ventured to the mountaintops when I was younger, but I doubt we'll find significant forces there."

A moment of silence fell over the group as they contemplated their limited options. Suddenly, Miquella's eyes lit up with an idea.

"What about the Haligtree?" he suggested, turning to Malenia. "Surely there must be some loyal forces remaining there."

Malenia's expression tightened slightly at the mention of her former domain, but she nodded slowly. "It's possible. But we haven't had contact with the Haligtree since... well, since before all this began."

"Loretta," Magnus said suddenly. "She was the last one at the Haligtree, wasn't she? We should consult her."

Godwyn nodded in agreement and called out to a nearby soldier. "Fetch Loretta for us, if you would."

Loretta entered the hall, her armor gleaming in the morning light. She approached the table and knelt before Miquella and Malenia, her head bowed in respect.

"My lord Miquella, Lady Malenia," she greeted them, her voice filled with reverence.

Miquella leaned forward, his childlike features etched with concern. "Loretta, we need to know about the Haligtree. What was its condition when you last saw it? Could there still be people there?"

Loretta raised her head, her expression grave. "The Haligtree still stood when I left, my lord. It endures, as it always has." She paused, her next words clearly difficult to deliver. "However, the Scarlet Rot... it had spread far beyond its previous boundaries. The Haligtree was consumed by it."

Malenia tensed at this news, her hand unconsciously tightening on the arm of her chair. Magnus placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Loretta continued, her voice heavy with regret. "As for our forces, I'm afraid the news is not good. Many were scattered in the chaos that followed. Those who remained..." She hesitated, glancing at Malenia. "Many succumbed to the rot, my lady. I tried to organize those who were left, but..."

Miquella nodded solemnly. "Thank you for your honesty, Loretta. And for your efforts in those dark times."

Godwyn, who had been listening intently, spoke up. "Is there any chance that some might have survived? Perhaps in the higher branches of the Haligtree, away from the rot?"

Loretta considered this for a moment. "It's possible, Lord Godwyn. The upper reaches of the Haligtree were less affected when I left. If any managed to secure themselves there, they might have endured."

Magnus leaned forward, his eyes bright with determination. "Then there's hope. Even a small force could be valuable to us now."

Malenia, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "The journey to the Haligtree will be perilous. The rot, the changed landscape... it won't be easy."

"No," Miquella agreed, "but it may be necessary. We need every ally we can find if we're to stand against the Frenzied Flame."

—

As the girls soared through the air on their patrol, they spotted a familiar figure ahead - their Aunt Maeve, her crimson hair stark against the sky. They hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances.

"Should we approach her?" Mary whispered.

Millicent shrugged, "She's family, but..."

"She's kinda scary," Amy finished.

Before they could decide, Maeve's voice cut through the air, sharp and clear. "I can hear you, you know. Angelic hearing and all that."

Startled, the girls approached, falling into formation alongside their aunt. Maeve didn't turn to look at them, her gaze fixed ahead.

Maureen, always the boldest, spoke first. "What are you doing out here, Aunt Maeve?"

"Hunting," Maeve replied curtly, her wings beating steadily.

Polyanna's curiosity got the better of her. "Hunting what?"

Maeve's response came in a tone so filled with venom that it made the girls flinch. "Godskins."

The single word carried such weight of hatred that the air around them seemed to chill. The girls exchanged worried glances, sensing the depth of Maeve's animosity.

After a moment of tense silence, Amy ventured, "Why... why do you hate them so much?"

Maeve's wings faltered for just a moment, a flicker of something - pain, perhaps - crossing her face before it hardened again. "That's a story for another time. Just know that if you ever encounter a Godskin, you don't hesitate. You strike first, and you strike hard."

The girls nodded solemnly, recognizing the seriousness of Maeve's warning. As they continued to fly alongside their aunt, they couldn't help but wonder about the history behind Maeve's hatred. It was clear that there was much about their family's past that they had yet to learn.

"Keep your eyes sharp," Maeve instructed, her voice softening slightly. "If you spot anything unusual, let me know immediately."

As they continued their patrol, the girls found a new respect for their aunt, mixed with a healthy dose of caution. It was clear that Maeve was a formidable ally - and a terrifying enemy to those who crossed her.

As they flew over the landscape, the ruins of the Shaded Castle came into view. The once-imposing structure now stood as a testament to the ravages of time and conflict.

"Wow, look at that," Polyanna exclaimed. "It's so... broken."

Amy nodded, her eyes wide. "I wonder what happened to it."

Maeve's voice cut through their wonderings, still tinged with anger but now carrying a weight of history. "A battle occurred there long ago."

The girls exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued. They whispered among themselves, speculating about the castle's past.

Millicent, emboldened by their earlier conversation, spoke up. "Aunt Maeve, did you destroy the Shaded Castle when you ruled from the Twilight Fortress on Mt. Gelmir?"

Maeve's wings stiffened slightly, her flight path faltering for just a moment. When she spoke, her voice had lost some of its edge, replaced by an unexpected sadness.

"No," she said softly. "The Shaded Castle... it's where Magnus and I lived for a time. With our parents, Marika and Radagon."

The girls fell silent, sensing the weight of Maeve's words. They had never heard her speak of her parents before.

Maeve continued, her voice distant as if lost in memory. "We stayed there before..." She trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air.

The girls leaned in, eager to hear more about their family's history. But as quickly as the moment of vulnerability had appeared, it vanished. Maeve's tone hardened once more, anger seeping back into her words.

"We stayed there when we waged our war against the Frenzied Flame," she finished, her voice sharp.

Mary, always the most empathetic, ventured gently, "Aunt Maeve, if you don't mind us asking... what happened?"

Maeve's wings beat harder, propelling her slightly ahead of the group. "That's enough questions for now," she said, her voice brooking no argument. "We have a patrol to finish."

—

Messmer strode through the outskirts of the village, his Fire Knights fanned out around him in a protective formation. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and distant woodsmoke. As they patrolled, a figure caught Messmer's eye - a woman in a white cloak, standing motionless in the distance.

Instantly alert, Messmer raised a hand to signal his knights to be cautious. "You there!" he called out, his voice carrying across the field. "Show yourself!"

The figure turned slowly, and Messmer's breath caught in his throat. Those eyes - gloam-covered and hauntingly familiar. "Melina?" he breathed, disbelief coloring his voice.

But as quickly as she had appeared, the figure vanished, leaving Messmer staring at empty space. He rushed forward, his heart pounding. "Where did she-"

A whisper, soft as a breeze, reached his ears. "No."

Spinning around, Messmer spotted the cloaked figure atop a nearby hill. "Sister!" he called out, his voice a mixture of hope and desperation. But once again, she disappeared before his eyes.

Determined now, Messmer followed the whispers, ignoring the concerned calls of his knights. The voice led him on a winding path, always just out of reach. "No Melina," it whispered, causing Messmer to tense.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his hand instinctively moving to his weapon. "Show yourself!"

The whispers grew more insistent, leading him to a secluded hollow. There, he found a woman lying on the ground, wounded and barely conscious. She wore the same white cloak, but as Messmer gently pulled back her hood, he realized with a start that he didn't recognize her face.

For a moment, he stood frozen, confusion and disappointment warring within him. But his sense of duty quickly took over. Carefully, he lifted the injured woman into his arms.

"I'm taking you back to camp," he told her, though he wasn't sure if she could hear him. "You'll be safe there."

As Messmer carried the mysterious woman back towards the village, his mind raced with questions. Who was she? Why had he been led to her? And most pressingly - what had created those visions of Melina?

The Fire Knights gathered around him as he approached, their faces a mixture of relief and curiosity at the sight of the woman in his arms.

As they hurried back to camp, Messmer couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was just the beginning of something much larger - and potentially more dangerous - than they had anticipated.

—

The small shack buzzed with tension as Magnus, Godwyn, and Miquella entered. Messmer stood at attention, his usual stoic demeanor tinged with unease as he recounted the strange encounter that led to the woman's discovery.

Magnus approached the makeshift bed where the woman lay, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face. The gloam-colored eyes that had haunted his recent vision stared back at him, unseeing.

With a heavy sigh, Magnus turned to his brothers. "It's as I feared. This woman... she's connected to the vision I had."

Miquella, who had been assisting the healers, suddenly gasped. From within the folds of the woman's white cloak, he carefully extracted a single, pristine white feather.

"Another sign," Magnus muttered, his voice a mixture of frustration and resignation. "If the theory holds true, it seems my future self is guiding us once again."

Before they could discuss further, the woman on the bed suddenly shot upright, her eyes flying open as she gasped for air. The sudden movement caught everyone off guard.

Magnus and Messmer reacted instantly, weapons raised and at the ready. Magnus swiftly moved to shield Miquella, positioning himself between his brother and the potential threat.

As the woman's gloam-colored eyes focused on them, Magnus felt a chill run down his spine. There was something else there, a power he recognized all too well.

"Destined Death," he whispered, his grip tightening on his weapon. "She carries the power of Destined Death."

The tension in the room reached a fever pitch as the three brothers faced this unexpected development. The woman's ragged breathing was the only sound that broke the tense silence.

Miquella, peering around Magnus's protective stance, spoke softly. "Who are you?"

The woman's gaze darted between them, confusion and fear evident in her expression. It was clear she was as surprised by her surroundings as they were by her presence.

The woman's gloam-colored eyes swept across the room, assessing each demigod in turn. Her gaze lingered on Godwyn before shifting to Messmer, but when she reached Magnus, she froze. Her arm shot out, finger pointing directly at him.

"You," she said, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. "Thou art the angel from my vision. Thou is the one who led me here." Her eyes narrowed, a spark of recognition flaring within them. "You carry the Rune of Life. Yes... I can feel it."

Magnus's blade flashed upward, its tip now resting at her throat. "What vision?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "How do you know of the Rune of Life? Do you serve the Greater Will?"

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Serve the Greater Will? I once did, long ago, when I was its chosen vessel."

The revelation hit the demigods like a physical blow. Magnus lowered his blade, shock evident on his face. Godwyn stepped forward, his voice filled with disbelief. "Impossible. Our mother, Marika, was the only vessel for the Elden Ring."

The woman's eyes widened. "Marika... your mother?" She shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. "Oh, how time passes."

Messmer, growing impatient, raised his spear. "Enough riddles. Who are you?"

The woman straightened, a regal air settling over her despite her weakened state. "I am Morana, the empyrean vessel for the Elden Ring long before the age of the Erdtree." She paused, her gaze sweeping over them once more. "But if you are truly children of Marika, then you would know me by another name. I am the Gloam-Eyed Queen."

—

The name fell like a thunderbolt in the small shack. The demigods exchanged stunned glances, their minds racing. They had all heard tales of how their uncle Maliketh had challenged the Gloam-Eyed Queen to reclaim Destined Death. They had believed her slain.

"How?" Magnus demanded, his voice a mixture of awe and suspicion. "Why are you here now?"

Morana's expression hardened. "I have hidden since the Godskin Monarch's rebellion. But recently..." Her eyes locked onto Magnus, intense and unwavering. "A white feather came to me. And I spoke to him."

Her finger rose once more, pointing directly at Magnus. "I spoke to you."

Magnus exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of yet another prophecy. His golden eyes narrowed, a mix of frustration and resignation flickering across his features.

Miquella, ever the inquisitive one, leaned forward, his childlike form belying the ancient wisdom in his eyes. "Lady Morana, could you elaborate on this vision? What exactly did you witness?"

The Gloam-Eyed Queen's gaze seemed to drift, as if looking into a distant past—or perhaps a future yet to come. "I saw him," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she nodded towards Magnus. "He stood amidst a swirling tempest of golden light, calling out to me. His voice... it guided me away from the pursuing Godskins, leading me closer to where Messmer would find me."

She paused, collecting her thoughts before continuing. "This vision of Magnus spoke of a greater purpose. He said I was meant to guide him down the path of life, storm, and time. Then, as quickly as he appeared, he vanished. When I awoke, Messmer was there."

Magnus's brow furrowed, his mind racing to make sense of these revelations. "And what do you believe this means? This... path you're meant to guide me down?"

Morana's gloam-colored eyes met Magnus's golden ones. "The path of life, I suspect, refers to the Rune of Life you carry. As for storm and time..." She shook her head slightly. "I cannot say with certainty."

"How exactly would you guide me down the path of life?" Magnus pressed, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

A small, knowing smile played at the corners of Morana's lips. "You forget, young demigod. I once bore the mantle you now carry. As the vessel for the Elden Ring, I contained the Rune of Life. Its power, its secrets—they were once as much a part of me as they are now of you."

The room fell silent as the weight of her words settled over them. Godwyn exchanged a glance with Messmer, both seemingly unsure how to process this new information. Miquella's eyes darted between Magnus and Morana, his brilliant mind no doubt already piecing together the implications of this revelation.

Magnus stood still, his face a mask of contemplation. The idea of being guided by this ancient being, this former vessel of the Elden Ring, stirred a mix of emotions within him—curiosity, apprehension, and a faint glimmer of 's eyes narrowed, his serpents coiling restlessly around him. "I don't trust her," he declared, his voice low and gravelly. "Have we forgotten that our mother sent the Black Blade to deal with her? There must have been a reason."

Godwyn nodded, his golden hair catching the dim light. "Messmer speaks true. We cannot simply ignore the actions of our mother, questionable as some of them may have been."

Miquella, however, leaned forward, his childlike face alight with curiosity. "But consider the knowledge she might possess," he argued, his voice carrying a wisdom beyond his apparent years. "There are so many mysteries about our world, about the very nature of the Elden Ring. She could be the key to understanding them."

Magnus stood silent, his wings slightly rustling as he weighed the arguments of his siblings. His face was a mask of contemplation, torn between caution and the potential for newfound understanding.

Morana's voice cut through the tension, her tone tinged with regret and bitterness. "Your mother had every right to send the Black Blade after me," she admitted, her gloam eyes downcast. "In truth, I'm surprised Marika allowed Maliketh to spare my life. I should have seen it as an opportunity for redemption, a chance to turn away from my misguided plans."

Her voice grew harder, filled with self-recrimination. "Instead, I created the Godskins. And from that... the Godskin Monarch arose." She spat the name as if it left a foul taste in her mouth. "Now, all of my Godskin children have turned against me, pledging themselves to the Flame of Frenzy."

Magnus finally broke his silence, his voice measured and calm. "Your honesty is... appreciated, Lady Morana. But it also raises more questions than it answers. What exactly were these plans of yours? And how do they relate to the guidance you claim to offer now?"
Morana's gloam eyes flicked between the demigods, weighing her options. After a moment of tense silence, she let out a resigned sigh.

"Very well," she began, her voice steady. "The truth, then. The Greater Will abandoned me, deeming me unworthy to continue as its vessel. It chose your mother, Marika, in my stead." Her voice carried a hint of old pain. "The rejection... it consumed me. Anger and bitterness drove me to the depths of despair."

She paused, her gaze unflinching. "In my anguish, I stole back the Rune of Death. My intention was to use it against Marika, to reclaim what I believed was rightfully mine. The Godskins... they were to be my army."

Godwyn was the first to break the silence. "You sought to kill our mother," he said, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief. "How can we possibly trust you now?"

Miquella, ever the voice of reason, interjected. "But she didn't succeed. And now she stands before us, seemingly repentant. Perhaps there's more to this story?"

"You speak of guiding me," Magnus finally said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "Yet your past actions speak of destruction and betrayal. How do you reconcile these? What has changed?"

Morana's shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of her past clearly visible in her posture. Her gloam eyes met Magnus's golden ones, and he could see the internal struggle playing out behind them.

"I... I've lived with the consequences of my actions for eons," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The Godskins, my creations, have become a scourge upon this land. And now, with their allegiance to the Flame of Frenzy..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "All I desire now is to see them eradicated and that accursed flame extinguished. Perhaps then I can find some measure of redemption."

Magnus exchanged glances with his siblings. Messmer's face remained hard, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes. Miquella nodded slightly, while Godwyn's expression was one of cautious consideration.

After a moment of silent communication, Magnus turned back to Morana. "We will allow you to stay, for now," he said, his tone firm. "But understand that you will be under constant supervision. Any hint of betrayal, and our hospitality will end swiftly."

Morana nodded, accepting the terms without protest. "I understand. And... thank you."

She hesitated for a moment before continuing, "If you're willing, I could help you understand more about the runes you carry. The power of Destined Life is... complex, to say the least."

Magnus tensed at the offer, his wings rustling slightly with uncertainty. Before he could respond, Godwyn stepped forward.

"Brother," Godwyn said, his voice low and urgent. "I know you have reservations, but this knowledge could be invaluable. Destined Life... it could be the key to healing our lands, to truly defeating the Flame of Frenzy."

Magnus's brow furrowed as he considered his brother's words. He looked at Morana, then back to his siblings, weighing the potential benefits against the risks.

Finally, he nodded slowly. "Very well," he said, his voice resolute. "We'll begin tomorrow. But remember," he added, fixing Morana with a steely gaze, "one wrong move, and this arrangement ends."

Morana bowed her head in acknowledgment. "I understand, and I am grateful for this chance. I swear, I will not betray your trust."

"What news?" Malenia inquired, her voice sharp with curiosity. Her golden prosthetics glinted in the sunlight as she moved.

Godwyn stepped forward, his golden hair catching the light. "We've encountered someone... unexpected," he began, his tone measured. "The Gloam-Eyed Queen lives."

Radahn's eyes widened, his massive frame tensing at the news. "Impossible," he rumbled, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his greatsword.

Magnus raised a hand, calming his brother. "It's true. She calls herself Morana, and she's offered to help us understand more about the runes, particularly "Destined Life."

Malenia's hidden face turned towards Magnus, her voice laced with concern. "Can she be trusted?"

"That remains to be seen," Magnus replied, his wings shifting slightly. "But the potential knowledge... it could be crucial."

After a moment of contemplation, Magnus straightened, decision made. "I'm going to begin training with her now. We can't afford to waste time."

Godwyn nodded in agreement. "While you do that, Malenia and I will gather our forces. We should be ready to march to the Haligtree within a few days."

Malenia turned to Godwyn, her posture conveying determination. "Agreed. The Cleanrot Knights stand ready."

Radahn grunted his assent. "My warriors are always prepared for battle. We'll be ready when the time comes."

—

Magnus and Morana walked to a secluded area of the camp, the tension between them palpable but slowly easing as they began to discuss the runes.

"So, tell me," Morana began, her gloam eyes fixed on Magnus, "what do you know of the runes you carry?"

Magnus let out a soft, rueful laugh. "Truthfully? Not much. My mother... she wasn't one for sharing such knowledge. The Elden Ring, the runes - they were topics she preferred to avoid."

A sad smile played across Morana's lips. "I can understand her reluctance. The Greater Will has a way of... complicating things for its vessels."

She paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "The Elden Ring is more than just a symbol of power. It's a complex construct, made up of various runes. Each rune represents a fundamental aspect of existence, a natural order if you will."

Magnus listened intently, his golden eyes never leaving Morana's face as she spoke.

Magnus and Morana found a quiet spot away from the bustling camp. The Gloam-Eyed Queen turned to face Magnus, her ancient eyes studying him intently.

"Tell me, what do you know of the Runes?" she asked, her voice carrying the weight of millennia.

Magnus let out a soft, rueful chuckle. "Truth be told, not much. My mother... she was never one for lengthy discussions about the Elden Ring or its components."

A sad smile played across Morana's lips. "I can understand that. The Greater Will has a way of... complicating things for its vessels."

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "The Elden Ring is a complex construct, made up of various Runes. Each represents a fundamental aspect of reality - natural laws, if you will. Life, Death, Order... all are embodied within its structure."

Magnus listened intently, his golden eyes fixed on Morana as she spoke. She continued, her voice taking on a more instructional tone.

"Now, let's see if we can tap into that power within you. Close your eyes, and try to feel the Rune of Life pulsing within your very being."

Magnus did as instructed, his brow furrowing in concentration. A faint golden glow began to emanate from him, but it flickered uncertainly.

Morana observed him closely, noting the tension in his shoulders and the hesitation in his aura. "You're holding back," she said softly. "The power is there, but you're reluctant to embrace it fully."

Magnus opened his eyes, the glow fading. "I... I suppose I am," he admitted, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"May I ask why?" Morana inquired, her tone gentle but probing.

Magnus paused, considering his words carefully. "I've seen the price of power," he finally said. "The toll it took on my family, on the Lands Between. I fear... I fear becoming that which I seek to prevent."

Morana nodded, understanding in her ancient eyes. "A noble concern, but remember - the power itself is neutral. It's the wielder who determines its purpose. Your hesitation, while understandable, is hindering your potential."

She placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch light but reassuring. "The Rune of Life is a part of you now. Embracing it doesn't mean losing yourself. It means understanding a fundamental aspect of existence."

Magnus took a deep breath, considering her words. "How do I... how do I find that balance?"

"Start by accepting it as a part of yourself," Morana advised. "Not as a separate entity to be feared or controlled, but as an extension of your own being. Let's try again."

As Magnus closed his eyes once more, Morana watched closely, hoping that this time, he would allow himself to truly connect with the power that lay dormant within him.

As Magnus concentrated, the soft white-blue glow around him intensified, but remained faint. His face contorted, not with the effort of summoning power, but with the weight of memories flooding his mind.

Flashes of his tumultuous past flickered behind his closed eyelids. The constant movement of his childhood, always on the run, never truly safe. The shock and horror of his first kill, the life leaving his victim's eyes. The searing pain of his own death, followed by the disorienting confusion of resurrection.

His epic clash with Malenia, blades singing through the air, scarlet rot threatening to consume all. The fiery battle against Rykard, surrounded by blasphemous serpents. The heart-wrenching duel with his twin, Maeve, torn between love and duty.

Then, the crushing realization of the Greater Will's manipulation, turning him against his own family. The cataclysmic battle at the Gate of Divinity, the very fabric of reality seeming to tear around them.

Magnus's breathing became labored, his wings rustling with agitation. The glow around him fluctuated, growing brighter for moments before dimming again, mirroring the turmoil within.

Morana observed keenly, her gloam eyes filled with understanding and a hint of concern. She spoke softly, her voice a anchor in the storm of Magnus's memories.

"These experiences have shaped you, Magnus, but they do not define you," she said. "The power of Life flows through you not despite your past, but because of it. Each trial, each loss, each victory - they've all contributed to who you are."

She moved closer, her presence calm and steady. "Don't fight the memories. Acknowledge them, accept them as part of your journey. Then, let them go. Focus on the present, on the life force that courses through you now."

Magnus's eyes remained closed, but his expression slowly began to change. The tension in his face eased, his breathing steadied. The glow around him stabilized, growing stronger and more consistent.

"That's it," Morana encouraged. "The Rune of Life is not just about creation or healing. It's about perseverance, about continuing on despite adversity. Your experiences have given you a unique understanding of life's complexities. Embrace that understanding."

As Magnus focused, integrating his past with his present, the white-blue aura around him intensified. It was no longer just a glow, but a palpable energy, pulsing with the rhythm of life itself.

Morana watched with a mixture of awe and satisfaction. This was just the beginning, she knew, but it was a crucial step. Magnus was starting to truly connect with the power of the Rune of Life, not as a separate entity, but as an intrinsic part of his being.

Magnus took a deep breath, the white-blue aura around him slowly fading as he opened his eyes. He looked at Morana with a mixture of gratitude and newfound understanding.

"Thank you," he said, his voice carrying a hint of awe at what he'd just experienced. "I... I've never connected with the Rune quite like that before."

Morana nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You've taken an important first step. Remember, Magnus, power itself is not to be feared. It's a tool, much like any other. The Rune of Life you carry is just as potent as the Rune of Death - perhaps even more so."

Her gloam eyes seemed to glow with ancient knowledge as she continued, "There are untold powers within the Rune of Life, waiting to be discovered and mastered. Healing is but one aspect. Creation, renewal, persistence - all these and more are within your grasp."

Magnus nodded thoughtfully, absorbing her words. As he was about to speak again, he noticed Morana's gaze had shifted. Following her line of sight, he realized she was staring intently at a nearby statue of Marika.

The statue depicted Marika in her role as vessel of the Elden Ring, her form both regal and ethereal. Morana's expression as she gazed upon it was complex - a mixture of emotions that Magnus couldn't quite decipher.

"Lady Morana?" he inquired softly, curiosity coloring his tone. "Is something amiss?"

Morana didn't immediately respond, her eyes still fixed on the stone visage of Marika. When she finally spoke, her voice was distant, as if coming from across a great expanse of time.

"It's strange," she mused, "to see her like this. To know that she walked the same path I once did." She turned back to Magnus, her eyes refocusing on the present. "Your mother... she must have been extraordinary, to have borne the weight of the Elden Ring for so long."

Magnus studied Morana carefully, sensing there was more behind her words. "You knew her, didn't you? Before she became the vessel?"

Morana's gaze remained fixed on the statue, her eyes distant with memories. After a long moment of silence, she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, I knew her. And not just from when Maliketh was sent after me." She turned to face Magnus, her expression heavy with the weight of ages. "Your mother and I... we share a common origin. We both hailed from the Shaman Village in the Land of Shadow."

Magnus's eyes widened in shock. He had seen the Shaman Village during their journey through the Land of Shadow, but he had never imagined this connection. "You and my mother... you were from the same village?"

Morana nodded slowly. "Indeed. But I made a terrible mistake, Magnus. I wronged Marika, a choice I didn't come to regret until many years later when our paths crossed again."

She paused, her gloam eyes clouded with regret. "I abandoned the village, consumed by my ambition to become a god. I left everything behind - my people, my responsibilities... and Marika."

Magnus listened intently, his mind racing to process this new information. "What happened?" he asked softly.

Morana's voice grew heavy with shame. "Years later, after I had become the vessel of the Elden Ring, I encountered Marika again. By then, she had grown into a formidable warrior and leader in her own right. But instead of making amends, I... I abandoned her once more."

She turned back to the statue, her expression a mix of regret and admiration. "Your mother's strength was evident even then. She rose above my betrayal, forging her own path to godhood. In the end, she proved herself far more worthy of the Elden Ring than I ever was."

Magnus stood in stunned silence, trying to reconcile this new information with what he knew of his mother. The revelation cast both Marika and Morana in a new light, adding layers of complexity to their shared history.

"Why are you telling me this?" Magnus finally asked, his voice quiet but intense.

Morana turned back to him, her ancient eyes meeting his golden ones. "Because understanding the past is crucial to shaping the future. Your mother's journey, my mistakes - they're all part of the tapestry that led to this moment. And perhaps, in some small way, by helping you now, I can begin to atone for my past failings."

Magnus absorbed Morana's words, his expression a mixture of contemplation and wariness. After a moment, he spoke, his voice measured and firm.

"I appreciate your honesty, Lady Morana. It can't have been easy to reveal such personal history." He paused, his golden eyes searching her face. "However, trust is not easily earned, especially given our... complex situation. Your actions moving forward will speak louder than any words from the past."

Morana nodded solemnly, accepting his stance. "I understand, and I ask for nothing more than the opportunity to prove myself."

"Then we shall continue as planned," Magnus replied, his wings rustling slightly as he prepared to depart. "We'll resume our training tomorrow."

As Magnus turned to leave, Morana called out softly, "Magnus..." He paused, looking back at her. "Thank you for listening. Your mother would be proud of the wisdom you've shown today."

A flicker of emotion crossed Magnus's face at the mention of Marika, but he simply nodded before walking away, leaving Morana alone with the statue.

Once Magnus was out of sight, Morana turned back to the stone visage of Marika. Slowly, almost reverently, she knelt before it, her gloam eyes filled with a profound sadness that seemed to span eons.

"Oh, Marika," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "My dear, dear Marika. I'm so sorry." Her hand reached out, trembling slightly as it traced the contours of the statue's face. "I never should have left you behind in the village. I was blinded by my own ambition, my own fears."

Tears began to fall from her ancient eyes, each one carrying the weight of countless years of regret. "You were so young, so full of potential. I should have nurtured that, guided you. Instead, I abandoned you to forge your own path."

Her voice dropped even lower, barely audible even in the silence. "If only I had been stronger, wiser... If only I had been the mother you deserved. I am so sorry my daughter."

Chapter End Notes

Yeah so... Marika is Gloam-Eyed Queen's daughter and Melina is not the Gloam-Eyed Queen... I know this may upset a few but in truth it has never been confirmed if Melina was her or if the Gloam-Eyed Queen was her own person. We sadly just have so little information about her, so I came up with my own little theory and lore that would best fit with my story.

I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know your thoughts and be prepared for the next chapter in two days when something tragic occurs...

Tragedy

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter fornotes

As Godwyn stood amidst the bustling camp, his voice rang out clear and authoritative, issuing orders to the gathered forces. Cleanrot Knights, Redmane soldiers, and members of Magnus's Host all listened attentively, their disparate ranks unified under his command.

"Prepare provisions for a long march! We'll need extra supplies for the journey through the mountaintops. Scouts, I want reports on the safest routes through..." Godwyn's words trailed off as he noticed his siblings approaching, their expressions a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

Radahn's imposing figure loomed over the others, his red mane catching the light. "Brother," he rumbled, "I see you've taken charge of our forces."

Malenia tilted her head, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Indeed. It seems our men have found a new commander."

Miquella, despite his child-like appearance, observed the scene with ancient eyes. "Quite impressive, Godwyn. You've managed to organize them all seamlessly."

Godwyn's golden features flushed slightly with embarrassment. "My apologies," he said, his voice sincere. "I didn't mean to overstep. I merely saw what needed to be done and... acted."

Magnus stepped forward, placing a hand on Godwyn's shoulder. "No need for apologies, brother. Your leadership is a boon to us all."

The siblings exchanged glances, then nodded in agreement. Malenia turned to her Cleanrot Knights, her voice carrying across the camp. "You heard Lord Godwyn. Carry out his orders."

Radahn's booming voice followed suit, directing his Redmanes to fall in line. Magnus did the same with his Host.

As the soldiers dispersed to their tasks, the siblings gathered closer, their voices lowering in discussion.

"Now," Godwyn began, his confidence returning, "about our journey to the Haligtree. I believe our best route would be through the Grand Lift of Rold."

Miquella's brow furrowed in thought. "The mountaintops are treacherous, brother. Why not a more direct route?"

Godwyn shook his head. "The lands surrounding the Haligtree are even more perilous. If we approach through Ordina, we'll have a better chance of avoiding unnecessary conflict."

Malenia nodded slowly. "Ordina... the Liturgical Town. It's been ages since I've walked those streets."

"It's settled then," Magnus concluded. "We'll make for the Grand Lift of Rold. Godwyn, since you've shown such aptitude for command, perhaps you should continue to lead our combined forces?"

The siblings murmured their agreement, and Godwyn stood a little straighter, the mantle of leadership settling comfortably on his shoulders. As they continued to discuss the details of their impending journey, it was clear that a new dynamic had emerged among them, with Godwyn at its center.

—

Maeve crouched low behind a rocky outcropping, her crimson hair a stark contrast against the muted landscape. The girls huddled close, their eyes wide as they observed the group of Godskins in the distance, engaged in some arcane ritual.

A feral grin spread across Maeve's face, her red eyes glinting with a mixture of anticipation and hatred. "Finally," she whispered, her voice thick with vengeful desire. "We've found the bastards."

As Maeve began to rise, ready to unleash her fury, Mary's timid voice broke through her bloodlust. "Aunt Maeve... shouldn't we tell Mother and... and Father about this?" She stumbled over the word 'Father', still uncertain how to refer to Magnus in his new role.

Millicent nodded in agreement, her golden prosthetic arm glinting in the dim light. "Unc- I mean, Father said we should report back if we found any danger."

Maeve whirled on them, her face contorted with barely contained rage. The girls flinched back, startled by the intensity of her reaction.

"Report back?" Maeve hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "You want to know why I hate them so much? Why I've been quiet about it?" Her eyes blazed with a pain so raw it was almost tangible. "Fine. I'll tell you."

She grabbed Millicent's shoulder, her grip tight enough to make the girl wince. "It was the Godskin Monarch who killed Magnus. Your precious 'Father' died by their hands."

Confusion flickered across the girls' faces. Amy spoke up, her bandaged eyes somehow still conveying her bewilderment. "But... Uncle Magnus is alive. We just saw him..."

"He was resurrected!" Maeve snarled, her voice cracking with emotion. "But I'll never forget that day. Never!" Her body trembled with barely contained fury and grief. "I watched as that monster impaled my beloved brother. I saw the black flames consume him from the inside out."

Tears of rage streamed down Maeve's face, her words coming out in a frenzied rush. "Do you have any idea what it's like to watch your other half die? To feel a part of yourself being ripped away?" Her voice rose, edged with hysteria. "Those flames didn't just kill Magnus, they took him from me! They stole my brother, my twin, my everything!"

The girls huddled together, shocked by Maeve's outburst. They had never seen their aunt like this, her usual sarcastic demeanor shattered by raw, unfiltered pain.

Maeve's chest heaved as she fought to control her breathing, her eyes never leaving the distant Godskins. "So no, we're not reporting back. We're not waiting. Those monsters took everything from me once, and I won't let them threaten what I've only just gotten back."

Her hand moved to her weapon, her intent clear. The girls exchanged worried glances, torn between their aunt's pain and their parents' instructions.

The air split with Maeve's battle cry as she charged towards the Godskins, her fury unleashed like a storm. The girls, caught between fear and duty, followed in her wake.

Maeve's blade tore through the first Godskin, rending flesh and spraying blood across the rocky ground. "Where is your fucking Monarch?!" she screamed, her voice raw with hatred.

The Godskins, caught off-guard, scrambled to defend themselves. One launched its stretchy body at Maeve, but she dodged and cleaved it in two, viscera splattering across her face.

Mary, overcoming her initial hesitation, joined the fray. Her Dragon Great Katana sang through the air, slicing through a Godskin's arm. The severed limb flopped to the ground, twitching grotesquely.

Millicent's holy shamshir glowed as she parried a Godskin's attack, then thrust her blade deep into its gut. The creature's innards spilled out in a steaming mess as she withdrew her weapon.

"Tell me where the Monarch is, you bastards!" Maeve roared, decapitating another Godskin. Its head rolled across the ground, eyes still blinking in shock.

Amy and Polyanna worked in tandem, their weapons a blur of motion. Blood and chunks of flesh flew as they carved through the Godskins' ranks.

A larger Godskin Noble waddled forward, its massive body jiggling obscenely. Maeve's eyes blazed with murderous intent. She leapt at it, her blade carving deep furrows in its bloated flesh. The Noble's skin split open, releasing a torrent of viscous fluid that stank of rot and decay.

"Speak, damn you!" Maeve shrieked, plunging her hand into the Noble's chest cavity. With a sickening crunch, she ripped out what passed for its heart, crushing the organ in her fist.

The girls watched in horror and awe as their aunt became a whirlwind of destruction. Godskin body parts littered the ground, turning the earth into a gory swamp.

As the battle raged on, more Godskins emerged from the shadows, their eerie, silent forms converging on the blood-soaked battlefield. Maeve's laughter, tinged with madness, echoed across the carnage as she continued her relentless assault.

As Maeve continued her bloody rampage, lost in a frenzy of vengeance, a towering figure emerged from the shadows behind the girls. The Godskin Monarch, its presence radiating malevolence, loomed over them.

Mary was the first to notice, her Dragon Great Katana trembling in her grip. "Girls, behind us!" she shouted, spinning to face the new threat.

The sisters formed a defensive line, their weapons raised against the Monarch. But their bravery was no match for its power. With inhuman speed, the Monarch batted aside their attacks, its massive form barely affected by their blows.

In a blur of motion, the Monarch's hand shot out, seizing Millicent by the throat. The girl's golden prosthetic arm clawed frantically at the iron grip as she was lifted off the ground.

"No!" Amy cried out, slashing futilely at the Monarch's arm.

The Monarch's eyes blazed with an otherworldly light. Millicent's struggles ceased as her body went rigid, her eyes widening in terror. Suddenly, golden cracks appeared across her skin, pulsing with a sickly light.

Millicent's scream shattered the air, a sound of pure agony that cut through Maeve's bloodlust like a knife. The aunt whirled around, her face splattered with gore, just in time to see the Monarch release Millicent.

The girl crumpled to the ground, clutching her face as wisps of acrid smoke curled from between her fingers. Her body convulsed as she sobbed, incoherent mumbles spilling from her lips.

"You bastard!" Maeve roared, charging at the Monarch with murder in her eyes. But before she could reach it, the massive figure dissolved into writhing black flames, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

The remaining Godskins retreated, leaving behind a scene of carnage and despair. The girls huddled around Millicent, their faces streaked with tears and blood.

"Milli, Milli, can you hear us?" Polyanna pleaded, trying to pry her sister's hands from her face.

Millicent continued to twitch and mumble, her words a jumbled mess of pain and confusion. "Burning... eyes... can't... stop... the flame..."

Maeve dropped to her knees beside them, the full weight of what had happened crashing down upon her. Her vengeful rage had blinded her to the true danger, and now Millicent was paying the price.

"What... what have I done?" Maeve whispered, her voice hoarse and broken as she stared at the suffering girl before her.

Maeve's voice cracked as she spoke, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon her. "Girls, step back. Let me see her."

The sisters reluctantly moved aside, their faces etched with worry and fear. Maeve gently approached Millicent, who continued to writhe on the ground, her hands clasped tightly over her face.

"Millicent," Maeve said softly, her tone a stark contrast to her earlier fury. "I need to look at your eyes. Please, let me see."

With great care, Maeve pried Millicent's hands away from her face. What she saw made her blood run cold. Millicent's eyes, once a warm amber, now flickered with an unnatural, frenzied light. Golden cracks spread across her skin like a spiderweb, pulsing with an otherworldly energy.

"No, no, no," Maeve muttered, her voice trembling. She recognized the signs all too well - the madness of the Frenzied Flame was taking hold.

Without hesitation, Maeve scooped Millicent into her arms. The girl felt unnaturally hot, as if a fire burned beneath her skin. Maeve turned to the other girls, her face set with grim determination.

"We need to move, now," she commanded. "We're returning to the village immediately. The others need to know what's happened."

Mary stepped forward, her voice quavering. "Will... will Milli be okay?"

Maeve's expression softened for a moment. "I don't know. But we have to hope. Perhaps one of Miquella's unalloyed gold needles can halt the progression of the madness."

As they began their hurried journey back, Millicent's mumbles grew more frantic, her body occasionally jerking in Maeve's arms. "The flame... it burns... make it stop..."

Maeve clutched her niece tighter, her earlier bloodlust replaced by a desperate need to save the girl. "Hold on, Milli," she whispered. "Just hold on. We'll fix this, I swear it."

The group moved as quickly as they could through the blood-soaked battlefield, leaving behind the carnage of their encounter with the Godskins. Maeve's mind raced, filled with fear for Millicent and bitter regret for her own actions. She could only hope they would make it back in time, before the madness of the Frenzied Flame consumed Millicent entirely.

—

The sun hung low over Stormcaller Village as Gwen, Eleanora, and Seroch gathered near the central square, their laughter echoing off the nearby buildings.

Eleanora's eyes glinted with mischief as she regaled Seroch with tales from the previous night. "Oh, you should have heard her, Seroch! Our dear Gwen here couldn't stop gushing about Magnus."

Gwen groaned, her face buried in her hands. "Eleanora, I swear by all that's holy, if you don't shut up..."

Ignoring her friend's pleas, Eleanora continued, "She went on and on about her dreams of being his consort, how his hair shines like spun gold in the sunlight, how his voice is like the sweetest melody..."

"Please, just kill me now," Gwen mumbled through her fingers.

Seroch's deep laugh rumbled through the air. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure I made a fool of myself too. I think Commander Elaine from the Cleanrot Knights came to talk to me, but I was passed out drunk in a bush."

This revelation sent all three into fits of laughter, Gwen momentarily forgetting her embarrassment.

Their mirth was cut short as Magnus rounded the corner. Immediately, they snapped to attention, backs straight and faces serious.

Magnus's golden eyes crinkled with amusement. "At ease, all of you. I'm not Messmer, you know."

The tension dissipated as they relaxed, though Gwen still couldn't quite meet Magnus's eyes, her face flushed with worry about her drunken confessions.

"Seroch," Magnus addressed the soldier, "have you followed through on Godwyn's instructions? Is the Host preparing for departure?"

Seroch nodded firmly. "Yes, my lord. We'll be ready to move out on your command."

Eleanora stepped forward, concern etched on her face. "My lord, have you any word on when the girls will return? They've been gone quite a while."

Magnus's brow furrowed slightly. "I'm afraid not, Eleanora. I'm sure they're fine, though. They're capable warriors." He glanced around the group. "Speaking of, have any of you seen my sister?"

Gwen, finally finding her voice, spoke up. "I... I saw her briefly early this morning, my lord. She mentioned something about going on patrol."

Magnus nodded, seemingly oblivious to Gwen's nervous demeanor. "Ah, that sounds like Maeve. Always restless."

Gwen breathed an internal sigh of relief, grateful that Magnus seemed unaware of her embarrassing declarations from the night before.

"Well," Magnus continued, "we'll need to move out soon. I hope Maeve and the girls return quickly. We can't afford any delays in our plans."

—

Godwyn stood with Siluria and Devonia, discussing the finer points of their upcoming march when he noticed Lansseax approaching. The ancient dragon, in her human form, moved with a grace that belied her true nature.

"Pardon me," Godwyn said to the Crucible Knights, who bowed respectfully before stepping away. He turned to Lansseax, a warm smile on his face. "Lansseax, what brings you here?"

Lansseax's silver hair caught the light as she tilted her head slightly. "I was just wondering, Godwyn... do you remember the last time we were both here at Stormcaller?"

Godwyn's brow furrowed for a moment before realization dawned on his face. "By the Erdtree, you're right. It was during the War of Ancient Dragons, wasn't it? When you and Fortissax surrendered."

A soft smile played on Lansseax's lips. "Indeed. It was also when we first formed our alliance... and our friendship."

Godwyn's laugh rang out, rich and deep. "Oh, those were different times. Do you remember my knights? Vyke was with me then. He was so young, so eager to prove himself." His smile grew fond at the memory. "You two had started courting not long after."

At the mention of Vyke's name, Lansseax's body visibly tensed. Her smile vanished, replaced by a look of deep anguish that didn't escape Godwyn's notice.

Godwyn's laughter died away, replaced by concern. "Lansseax? What's wrong?I am sorry to bring him up."

Lansseax's eyes welled with tears, her voice trembling as she spoke. "You... you don't know? Oh, Godwyn..."

Godwyn's golden features creased with worry. "Know what?"

The dragon maiden seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, grief etched into every line of her face. Finally, she met Godwyn's gaze, her ancient eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and heartbreak.

"Godwyn," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "Vyke... he's gone. Not just dead, but... lost to us."

Godwyn's face paled. "What do you mean, lost?"

Lansseax's voice cracked as she continued, "He sought to become Elden Lord, to save his maiden. But in doing so, he ventured too close to the Three Fingers. He... he was touched by the Frenzied Flame, Godwyn. Your loyal knight, my beloved... he fell to madness."

The weight of this revelation hit Godwyn like a physical blow. He stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "No... not Vyke. He was one of the most steadfast, most loyal... How could this have happened?"

Lansseax's tears flowed freely now. "It happened after the Night of Black Knives. While you were... gone from us. He was desperate to make things right, to save the world he thought was falling apart. But in his desperation, he..."

She couldn't finish, overcome by grief. Godwyn, still reeling from the news, instinctively reached out to comfort her. As he embraced his old friend, his mind raced with the implications of Vyke's fall.

"I'm so sorry, Lansseax," he murmured, his own voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea. If I had known..."

Lansseax pulled back slightly, wiping at her tears. "There was nothing you could have done, Godwyn. It was his choice, in the end. But the pain... it never truly fades."

—

Malenia stood silently beside Miquella, Despite the calm atmosphere, an inexplicable unease gnawed at her. She couldn't pinpoint its source, but the feeling persisted, like a shadow at the edge of her awareness.

Miquella, oblivious to his sister's discomfort, was engrossed in his latest project. His small, childlike hands moved with surprising dexterity as he laid out intricate blueprints across the table.

"Once we're back at the Haligtree," Miquella said, excitement clear in his voice, "I'll be able to continue this work properly. All my tools, my research... it'll be good to be home."

Malenia smiled beneath her helm, genuinely pleased to see her brother so enthused. "It's been too long since you've been able to work in your own space," she agreed.

Miquella looked up, catching the slight hesitation in her voice. "And you, sister? Are you not eager to return?"

Malenia's posture stiffened almost imperceptibly. "I... I am glad to see you happy, brother. But I cannot help but feel responsible for the Haligtree's fall into ruin. My absence, my failure..."

Miquella set down his tools and moved to his sister's side, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "Malenia, no. The fault does not lie with you. We were both victims of circumstances beyond our control."

"But-" Malenia began to protest, but Miquella cut her off gently.

"No buts. We will restore the Haligtree together. It will be a new beginning for all of us."

Malenia nodded, grateful for her brother's unwavering support. "You're right, of course. Thank you, Miquella."

Miquella smiled, then glanced towards the door. "Come, let's step outside for a moment. We should speak with Phillia about our plans."

As they exited the workshop, the bustle of the camp greeted them. Soldiers and servants moved about with purpose, preparing for the upcoming journey.

"There," Miquella pointed, spotting Phillia among a group of Albinaurics. "Let's ask if she and her people would like to accompany us to the Haligtree. Their skills could be invaluable, and perhaps they too could find a home there."

As they approached Phillia, Malenia couldn't shake the lingering sense of foreboding. But she pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

The peaceful bustling of the village was suddenly shattered by shouts of alarm. "Look! The angels are returning!" voices cried out from various corners of the settlement.

Malenia and Miquella turned their attention skyward. "Miquella, is it the girls?" Malenia asked, unable to see for herself.

Miquella squinted, shielding his eyes from the sun. "I... I think so, sister. But something seems amiss."

Their conversation was interrupted by Eleanora and Gwen rushing towards them, panic evident in their voices.

"No, no, no," Eleanora repeated, her tone filled with worry.

Malenia turned towards the sound of their approach. "What's wrong? What do you see?"

Eleanora's voice trembled as she spoke. "It's the girls and Maeve, my lady. But... Maeve is carrying one of them."

Malenia's heart plummeted, her grip tightening on her weapon. Magnus approached just then, and Malenia instinctively reached for his arm. "Magnus, who is it? Which one?"

As the figures drew closer, Magnus's golden eyes widened with recognition and concern. "It's Millicent," he said, his voice tight with worry.

Maeve and the girls touched down in a flurry of wings and panic. Maeve's voice rang out, urgent and filled with fear. "Miquella! We need one of your needles, now! Millicent's been touched by the Flame of Frenzy!"

Magnus and Malenia rushed forward, their arms outstretched to receive their daughter. As Maeve gently transferred Millicent into their care, the girl's body convulsed violently.

Millicent's laughter, a chilling, unnatural sound, cut through the air. It was devoid of any warmth or joy, instead filled with a manic, crazed energy that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard it.

"My girl," Malenia whispered, her usual composure cracking as she cradled Millicent's shaking form. "What happened to you?"

Magnus held them both, his face a mask of anguish and determination. "Miquella!" he called out, his voice booming across the village. "Hurry!"

The other girls huddled close, their faces streaked with tears and terror. Mary spoke up, her voice quavering. "It was the Godskin Monarch. He... he did something to her."

Magnus and Malenia turned sharply towards their daughters, their faces contorted with a mixture of fear and anger.

"You were told to stay close!" Magnus said, his voice strained with emotion.

Malenia's voice trembled with barely contained rage. "How could you disobey us like this?"

The girls began to protest, their voices overlapping in a chorus of explanations and apologies. But before they could finish, Maeve stepped forward, her crimson hair whipping in the wind.

"It's my fault," she said, her voice heavy with guilt. "Blame me, not them."

Magnus stared at his twin, his golden eyes filled with pain and disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Malenia, however, found her voice. She turned towards Maeve, her fury palpable even through her helm.

"You!" she snarled, her words dripping with venom. "How dare you! You reckless, impulsive fool! You've put Millicent and the others at risk with your thoughtless actions!"

Magnus placed a hand on Malenia's arm. "Malenia, please-"

But Malenia shrugged him off, her tirade continuing. "You're nothing but a wild beast, Maeve! Uncontrolled, dangerous! You care nothing for the consequences of your actions!"

Maeve stood silent, accepting each verbal blow without protest. Her eyes, usually filled with defiance, now showed only sorrow and regret.

The other demigods arrived on the scene, their faces etched with concern as they took in the chaotic tableau before them.

Nearby, Eleanora had fallen to her knees, soft sobs wracking her body. She had grown close to the girls over time, and seeing Millicent in such a state was breaking her heart. Gwen knelt beside her, offering what comfort she could.

The Cleanrot Knights stood at attention nearby, their postures rigid with worry for their commander. They exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to react to Malenia's uncharacteristic loss of composure.

Godwyn stepped forward, his authoritative voice cutting through the chaos. "What happened out there? We need to know everything."

Maeve, her shoulders sagging with the weight of guilt, recounted the events. She spoke of finding the Godskins, her decision to attack, and the appearance of the Monarch. Her voice cracked as she described Millicent being touched by the Frenzied Flame.

As she finished, Magnus and Malenia's anger boiled over.

"How could you be so reckless?" Magnus demanded, his usually calm demeanor shattered. "You knew the dangers. You knew what we were up against!"

Malenia's voice trembled with rage. "You let your thirst for vengeance cloud your judgment. Look what it's cost us!"

Maeve's eyes flashed defiantly. "The Monarch had to pay! Don't you understand? After what he did to Magnus, to all of us-"

"And this is how you planned to make him pay?" Malenia cut in. "By risking the lives of our children?"

"They're warriors, Malenia," Maeve shot back. "They knew the risks-"

Magnus interrupted, his voice low and pained. "They're children, Maeve. Our children. And you led them into a battle they weren't prepared for."

A whimper from Millicent drew everyone's attention. Maeve instinctively moved to help, but Malenia's voice lashed out like a whip.

"Don't you dare touch her!" Malenia snarled. "You've done enough damage."

The venom in Malenia's voice made Maeve take a step back. In that moment, she truly understood the depth of Malenia's hatred towards her. The realization hit her like a physical blow, and she retreated further, her usual bravado completely shattered.

Malenia's voice, strained with worry and impatience, cut through the tense atmosphere. "Elaine! Find Miquella and see what's taking him so long. We need that needle now!"

The Cleanrot Knight commander nodded sharply and dashed off, her armor clanking as she ran.

Suddenly, Millicent's laughter ceased, drawing everyone's attention. Magnus and Malenia leaned in close as their daughter's lips moved, her voice a barely audible whisper.

"My lord... he is rising..."

A collective shudder ran through the group at these ominous words. Before anyone could react, Millicent's voice rose again, this time in a manic cackle. "My lord is rising!" she shouted, her words echoing across the village.

Without warning, Millicent let out a bone-chilling howl that sent everyone staggering backward. When they looked up, they saw her standing, her posture unnaturally rigid and menacing.

Her eyes, once warm and kind, now blazed with the sickly yellow fire of the Frenzied Flame. A disturbing giggle escaped her lips as she began to speak, her voice a discordant mixture of Millicent's own and something far more sinister.

"Oh, how he's been watching you all," she crooned, her gaze sweeping over the horrified onlookers. "My lord grows weary of his playthings. Your struggles amuse him no longer."

Magnus stepped forward, his voice firm despite the fear in his eyes. "Millicent, fight it. You're stronger than this."

But Millicent only laughed, the sound grating and unnatural. "Terror after terror he'll send. Hunters in the night, flames in the day. Fallen lords. Nowhere will be safe from his touch."

Malenia reached out, her golden prosthetic hand trembling. "My daughter, please..."

"Your daughter?" Millicent sneered. "She's gone. There is only the flame now." Her voice rose to a fevered pitch. "His fires will consume this realm! Every corner, every shadow - all will burn in glorious frenzy!"

The gathered demigods exchanged worried glances, the weight of this new threat settling heavily upon them. Godwyn's hand tightened on his weapon, while Radahn's massive form seemed to tense for battle.

Maeve, still standing apart from the others, watched with a mixture of horror and crushing guilt. This was the consequence of her actions, laid bare before them all.

Millicent's voice grew more distorted, a cacophony of her own and something far more sinister. She turned to her sisters, her twisted grin a mockery of affection.

"Oh, poor Mary," she sneered. "The eldest, always trying to lead. But you're just a blind girl fumbling in the dark, aren't you? Your guidance is as useless as your sight."

She rounded on Maureen. "And you, little know-it-all. All that knowledge, yet you couldn't see this coming, could you? Your precious intellect is nothing but a shield for your insecurities."

Amy flinched as Millicent's gaze fell on her. "The loyal follower. No thoughts of your own, just an empty vessel waiting to be filled. How pathetic."

Finally, she turned to Polyanna. "Always the center of attention, aren't you? Desperate for validation, for someone, anyone, to notice you. But they only see a shallow, vapid girl."

The girls recoiled, tears streaming down their faces at their sister's cruel words. Millicent then turned her attention to the demigods.

"Uncle Godwyn," she mocked, "the golden boy risen from the dead. You think you can guide them? Protect them? You couldn't even protect yourself. You were rotting while they tore the realm apart. Your leadership is built on a foundation of failure."

Her gaze shifted to Maeve. "Aunt Maeve, so consumed by your love for Magnus. It's your weakness, you know. So easy to manipulate, to predict. Your devotion will be your downfall."

Malenia tensed as Millicent's warped gaze fell upon her. "Mother dearest," she spat. "Broken, rotted, a failure in every way. You think you can care for us? You can't even care for yourself. We're all destined to bloom or wither, just like you. Rotting from the inside out."

Finally, she turned to Magnus, her voice dripping with contempt. "And you, 'Father'. Always hesitating, always doubting. You think you can be a parent? You can barely lead yourself. Your fears, your uncertainties - they'll always hold you back, always make you weak."

Magnus stood firm, his expression stern as he absorbed the vicious words. Then, his eyes narrowed with sudden understanding. "Enough," he said, his voice cutting through the tension. "This isn't Millicent speaking. This is the Frenzied Flame itself."

Millicent's face split into a wide, unnatural grin. "Oh, clever Magnus. You always were the perceptive one, weren't you?"

Magnus stepped forward, his voice resonating with authority. "Release her. Now. You have no claim on her soul."

The entity wearing Millicent's face laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the village. "Release her? Oh no, Magnus. She's ours now. A perfect vessel for the chaos to come."

The standoff intensified, the air crackling with tension as Magnus faced down the entity possessing his daughter, the fate of Millicent hanging in the balance.

Maeve stepped forward, her crimson hair whipping in the sudden wind that seemed to emanate from Millicent. Her voice was steady, resolute. "Take me instead. That's what you want, isn't it? I'm the one destined to be the Lord of Frenzied Flame."

"Maeve, no!" Magnus shouted, reaching for his twin, but Maeve held up a hand, silencing him.

Malenia stood frozen, her usual composure shattered by this unexpected turn of events. The other demigods watched in stunned silence, the weight of Maeve's offer hanging heavy in the air.

Millicent's face contorted into a cruel, unnatural smile. A laugh bubbled up from her throat, a sound that sent chills down the spines of all who heard it.

"Oh, Maeve," the entity crooned, its voice a discordant mixture of Millicent's and something far more sinister. "Where did this selflessness come from? This isn't the Maeve we know and love, is it?"

The entity's voice grew mocking, each word landing like a blow. "Not the Maeve the Cruel, who reveled in bloodshed. Not the Tyrant of the Twilight Fortress, ruling with an iron fist. Certainly not the Dark Angel of Death, leaving destruction in her wake."

Maeve flinched at each title, each reminder of her past, but stood her ground.

"You're right," the entity continued, its grin widening impossibly. "We do want your soul, Maeve. But not yet. Oh no, not yet."

The air grew thick with tension as the entity leaned forward, its words dripping with malice. "We want to watch you suffer more. To see you break, piece by piece. To witness your world crumble around you. Only then, when you're shattered beyond repair, will we join. Only then will you truly be ours."

Suddenly, the entity's voice rose to a fever pitch, echoing across the village with terrifying force. "MAY CHAOS TAKE THE WORLD!"

As the words rang out, jets of sickly yellow flame erupted from Millicent's eyes, spreading outward in a terrifying display. The gathered crowd stumbled back, shielding themselves from the heat and light.

As quickly as it had appeared, the entity vanished, leaving behind a screaming Millicent. The fires of the Frenzied Flame continued to pour from her eyes as she writhed in agony, her cries piercing the hearts of all who heard them.

Magnus and Malenia rushed forward, trying to restrain their daughter and offer what comfort they could. The other demigods stood in shocked silence, the reality of the threat they faced now brutally clear.

Maeve remained where she stood, the entity's words echoing in her mind. The weight of her past, her destiny, and the suffering yet to come pressed down upon her like a physical force.

As Millicent's screams filled the air, the once-peaceful village now stood on the brink of chaos, the specter of the Frenzied Flame looming over them all.

As Millicent's madness reached its peak, she unleashed a powerful blast that sent Magnus and Malenia flying backward. Her maniacal laughter echoed through the village as she began raining destruction upon the gathered crowd. Chaos erupted as people scrambled for safety, the air filled with screams and the crackle of frenzied flames.

Miquella emerged from a nearby building, the precious needle clutched in his hands. "I have it!" he called out, but his voice was drowned by Millicent's frenzied shriek as she turned her attention to him. A jet of sickly yellow flame shot towards Miquella, but Messmer reacted with lightning speed, snatching the small demigod out of harm's way just in time.

The area around them was quickly engulfed in the otherworldly fires of the Frenzied Flame. Amidst the chaos, Magnus and Maeve stood firm, their angelic forms a stark contrast to the destruction around them. Years of battling the Frenzied Flame had honed their skills for this very moment.

With a silent nod of understanding, the twins began their coordinated attack. They moved with fluid grace, weaving around Millicent, drawing her attention and baiting her attacks. As she shot flames in their direction, Magnus unfurled his majestic wings, beating them with tremendous force. The gust of wind knocked Millicent off balance, creating the opening they needed.

Seizing the moment, Maeve swooped in from behind. With precision born of countless battles, she grappled Millicent, pinning the girl's arms behind her back. In one swift motion, Maeve cupped Millicent's head, forcing it upward and exposing her chest.

"Now, Magnus!" Maeve shouted over the roar of the flames.

Magnus surged forward, his golden eyes locked on his target. "Malenia!" he called out, his voice carrying over the chaos.

Malenia, who had been watching the scene unfold with a mixture of horror and hope, sprang into action. She snatched the needle from Miquella's outstretched hand and, with unerring accuracy, hurled it towards Magnus.

Time seemed to slow as the needle arced through the air. Magnus caught it deftly, never breaking his stride. In one fluid motion, he plunged the needle deep into Millicent's chest.

For a moment, everything stood still. Then, slowly, the sickly yellow glow faded from Millicent's eyes. Her body went limp in Maeve's arms as consciousness slipped away from her.

The fires around them began to die down, leaving behind a scene of devastation. The gathered crowd emerged from their hiding places, staring in awe at the aftermath of the battle. Magnus and Maeve stood over Millicent's unconscious form, their chests heaving from exertion, the weight of what had just transpired heavy upon them all.

Magnus carefully lifted Millicent from Maeve's arms, cradling her limp form against his chest. Without a word, he turned and strode towards the church, Malenia close behind. Miquella hurried after them, his small form darting between the gathered onlookers.

As the church doors closed behind them, a heavy silence fell over the village. Maeve stood alone, her shoulders sagging under the weight of guilt and shame. She glanced towards the other girls, catching sight of Godwyn and Eleanora offering comfort to her nieces. For a brief moment, their eyes met hers, a mix of fear and confusion evident in their gazes.

Unable to bear their scrutiny, Maeve turned away. She walked past Gwen, feeling the weight of her former servant's stare. Gwen's expression softened with pity as she watched Maeve's retreating form.

"Maeve," Radahn's deep voice called out as she passed him, but she didn't acknowledge him. Instead, she unfurled her dark wings and took to the sky, landing on a distant hilltop where she could be alone with her thoughts.

Messmer stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension. "We should continue our preparations to march. And we must remain vigilant for any Godskin activity."

Godwyn nodded in agreement, his golden hair catching the fading light. "You're right. We can't allow this setback to leave us vulnerable." He turned to address the gathered soldiers and knights. "Cleanrot, Host members, to me. We have work to do."

From her perch on the hilltop, Maeve watched the bustling activity below, feeling more isolated than ever. The consequences of her actions weighed heavily upon her, as did the ominous words of the Frenzied Flame. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the land, the future seemed more uncertain than ever.

Godwyn's gaze lingered on Maeve's solitary figure atop the hill. As he made to move towards her, Lansseax's hand on his arm gave him pause.

"Let me go to her," Lansseax said, her voice soft but firm.

Godwyn's brow furrowed. "Are you sure? I thought you two didn't exactly... get along."

Lansseax nodded, a hint of a sad smile on her face. "We don't. But aside from Magnus, I know her better than anyone here. Sometimes, it takes an old adversary to truly understand."

Without waiting for a response, Lansseax strode off towards the hill. Godwyn watched her go, a mixture of concern and curiosity on his face.

As he turned back to the village, Godwyn caught sight of a familiar figure lurking at the edges of the crowd. The Gloam-Eyed Queen stood half-hidden in shadow, her ancient eyes observing the scene with interest.

Godwyn approached her, his voice low. "Lady Morana, I have a question for you. The Godskin Monarch... do you know how he fell to the Frenzied Flame?"

A bitter chuckle escaped the Gloam-Eyed Queen's lips. "Ah, the Monarch. My greatest creation and my greatest failure."

She turned to face Godwyn fully, her gloam-colored eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and regret. "I made him to be the pinnacle of the Godskins. Stronger, faster, and far more intelligent than the Apostles or Nobles."

Her voice took on a harder edge. "But that brilliant mind I gave him... it led him to seek out even greater power. He knew exactly what he was doing when he sought out the Frenzied Flame."

Godwyn's eyes widened slightly. "He chose this path willingly?"

Morana nodded grimly. "To him, the Frenzied Flame was simply a means to an end. A quicker route to fulfilling his purpose." Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "The death of all those who share divine blood."

Godwyn absorbed this information, his face a mask of contemplation. "Then he's even more dangerous than we thought."

"Indeed," Morana agreed. "The Monarch combines the worst aspects of my creation with the madness of the Frenzied Flame. A truly terrifying combination."

—

Inside the church, the air was thick with tension and worry. Malenia turned to her brother, her voice strained with concern. "Miquella, will she be alright?"

Miquella sighed heavily, his childlike features creased with worry. "Malenia, you know how the needle works. It wards off the influence of Outer Gods, but it doesn't eliminate it entirely." He glanced at Millicent's still form. "She's shown remarkable resistance to the Rot, but the Frenzied Flame... it's hard to say how she'll fare against it."

Magnus placed a comforting hand on Malenia's shoulder. "What about the Rune of Life?" he asked, a hint of hope in his voice. "It seems to help against the Rot. Could it be of use here?"

Miquella shook his head slowly. "I don't think so, but... I'm not an expert on the Elden Ring or its runes. We're in uncharted territory here."

Magnus sighed, his gaze drifting as he became lost in thought. The memory of his own death at the hands of the Monarch surfaced, bringing with it a wave of rage that threatened to overwhelm him. His fists clenched tightly, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood.

Unbeknownst to Magnus, a dark aura began to surround him, the power of the Rune of Death responding to his anger. It wasn't until Malenia grasped his hand that he snapped back to reality.

"Magnus?" Malenia's voice was tinged with concern.

Magnus blinked, suddenly aware of the blood on his palms and the fading aura of the Rune of Death. He quickly dispelled the remaining energy, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry, I... I got lost in memories for a moment there."

As they turned their attention back to Millicent, the weight of their situation pressed down upon them. The threat of the Frenzied Flame loomed larger than ever, and the path forward remained shrouded in uncertainty.

—

As Lansseax approached, Maeve's voice cut through the air, sharp and dismissive. "Go away, lizard. I'm not in the mood for company."

Lansseax paused, but didn't retreat. "I'll let that slide, considering the day you've had."

After a moment, Lansseax spoke again. "Were you serious about offering yourself to the Frenzied Flame?"

Maeve scoffed, her eyes still fixed on the horizon. "I would've died fighting before I let it consume me. I just wanted Millicent safe." Her voice dropped, bitter and self-loathing. "Fat lot of good that did."

"You've changed, Maeve," Lansseax observed. "There was a time when Magnus was the only one you cared about."

Maeve shifted uncomfortably. "Millicent and the girls look to Magnus as a father. In a way, I'm still looking out for him."

Lansseax chuckled softly, moving to stand beside Maeve. "If you say so."

Silence fell between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the village below. After a long moment, Maeve's voice came, barely above a whisper. "Will Millicent be alright?"

Lansseax sighed heavily. "I don't know. But if anyone can find a cure, it would be Lord Miquella."

Maeve nodded slightly, her usual bravado absent. The two stood side by side, an unlikely pair united in their concern for Millicent and the challenges that lay ahead

Lansseax's voice broke the silence. "If I were in your position, seeing those Godskins, having the Monarch within reach... I would have done the same."

Maeve turned, fixing Lansseax with a surprised stare.

"Don't look so shocked," Lansseax said. "Magnus and I may no longer be together, but I still love him. And remember, you weren't the only one who lost him that day when the Monarch struck."

Maeve fell silent, memories of that terrible day flooding back. She recalled rallying the forces in the wake of the attack, consumed by the need for vengeance. And Lansseax, joining her cause without hesitation.

The memory shifted, and Maeve winced inwardly as she remembered the cruel way she had treated Lansseax during their eventual falling out. She turned to the dragon maiden, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "I'm sorry, Lansseax. For everything I did back then."

Lansseax smirked. "I know. And I still don't forgive you." But then her expression softened into a genuine smile. "But we have bigger issues than our old grievances now, don't we?"

They both turned their gaze towards the church where Magnus and Malenia tended to Millicent. Lansseax nudged Maeve gently. "You should go down there."

Maeve hesitated, her usual confidence faltering. "To see how hurt my brother is? To face Malenia's wrath?"

Lansseax snorted. "There's a good chance of that, yes. But if you say nothing, if you isolate yourself and fall down that dark hole again... you'll become the Dark Angel all over again. Is that what you want?"

Maeve sighed, knowing Lansseax was right. She spread her wings, preparing to take flight, but turned back for a moment. "Thank you... you wise lizard."

Lansseax's laughter followed Maeve as she took to the air, heading back towards the village and the confrontation that awaited her. The setting sun cast long shadows across the land, a fitting backdrop to the challenges that lay ahead.

Maeve entered the church, her steps hesitant. To her surprise, the girls rushed forward, enveloping her in a group hug. Momentarily stunned, Maeve wrapped her arms around them, a wave of relief washing over her. Eleanora stood nearby, offering a warm smile.

Magnus turned from Millicent's bedside, a small smile gracing his features at the sight of the reunion. Miquella stepped forward, his childlike face serious but not unkind. "Millicent is starting to feel better, Maeve," he said softly.

Maeve's shoulders relaxed slightly at the news, but her eyes darted to Malenia, who remained facing away from her. Taking a deep breath, Maeve approached.

"Malenia, I... I'm so sorry," Maeve began, her voice uncharacteristically subdued. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I—"

"Get out." Malenia's voice was quiet but glacial, cutting through Maeve's words like a knife.

Maeve froze mid-sentence, her eyes darting to Miquella and Magnus. Miquella looked shocked, while Magnus lowered his head, unable to meet her gaze.

Swallowing hard, Maeve tried again. "Malenia, please, I understand you're angry, but—"

Malenia whirled around, her golden prosthetics gleaming in the dim light of the church. "Angry?" she hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. "Angry doesn't begin to describe it, Maeve. Your recklessness, your thirst for vengeance... it nearly cost us everything."

Maeve stood silent, absorbing Malenia's fury. The air in the church grew thick with tension as Malenia continued, her words laced with venom.

"You claim to care for this family, yet you put our children in danger without a second thought. Your actions have consequences, Maeve. And this time, Millicent paid the price for your foolishness."

The girls huddled closer to Eleanora, their eyes wide as they watched the confrontation unfold. Magnus stepped forward, as if to intervene, but hesitated, torn between his sister and his partner.
Maeve stood firm as Malenia's anger washed over her. "I understand, Malenia. I didn't mean for this to happen—"

"You never mean for these things to happen, do you?" Malenia cut her off, her voice sharp. "Just like you didn't mean for Rykard to become a serpent again, or to create an army of abominations at the Twilight Fortress, or to start a war. Yet you did all those things, Maeve."

Maeve absorbed the barrage of accusations, her eyes never leaving Malenia's helm. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she began to speak.

"Let me tell you about the day Magnus died," Maeve said, her words heavy with pain. "I had left the Shaded Castle earlier that day, furious with Magnus over something so trivial I can't even remember it now. I didn't return until it was too late."

Her voice grew thick with emotion as she continued. "I saw the one person in this world who showed me nothing but love and care, the one I'd do anything for, lifted into the air with a greatsword through his chest, through his heart."

The church fell silent, all eyes on Maeve as she recounted her worst memory.

"I froze," she admitted, her voice cracking. "I stepped back and watched as that sword ignited with black flames, burning my brother from the inside out. His screams... they shattered my heart. It was the worst day of my life."

Maeve paused, taking a shaky breath. "Today is the second worst. I let my brother down again by allowing Millicent to be hurt. I will regret this for the rest of my life, Malenia."

Malenia stood silent, her posture rigid but no longer radiating the same intense fury.

"I know my actions have consequences," Maeve continued, her voice gaining strength. "I know I've made terrible mistakes. But please believe me when I say that I never, ever wanted harm to come to Millicent or any of the girls. They're family, and family is everything to me."

Malenia's posture softened slightly. "I... I can understand your desire for revenge," she admitted reluctantly. "If something happened to Miquella... I'd likely do the same."

Maeve offered a brief, sad smile before her expression grew serious again. "I'm truly sorry, Malenia. I've been trying to be better since I was brought back. I failed you all today, but I swear it won't happen again."

Malenia remained silent for a long moment, seemingly wrestling with her thoughts. Before she could respond, however, a soft whisper from Millicent caught everyone's attention.

Magnus and Malenia quickly moved to Millicent's side, offering comfort. The girls crowded around, eager to see their sister, but Miquella gently urged them back. "Please, give her some space. I need to examine her."

Sensing the family needed privacy, Maeve turned to leave. She had barely taken a step when Millicent's voice called out, "Aunt Maeve?"

Surprised, Maeve returned to the bedside. Everyone's eyes were on her as she knelt beside Malenia, taking Millicent's outstretched hand. "What is it, sweetheart?" Maeve asked softly.

A hint of Millicent's usual spark returned to her eyes as she asked, with a weak but mischievous tone, "Did you kill that Monarch bastard?"

The unexpected question broke the tension in the room, eliciting surprised laughter from everyone present. Maeve shook her head, a rueful smile on her face. "Not yet, but after today, I'll make damn sure no one else gets hurt by him."

Millicent's lips curved into a small smile. "Good," she whispered. "Because I call dibs on killing him."

The laughter that followed was tinged with relief, the earlier hostility dissipating in the face of Millicent's resilience. Maeve glanced at Malenia, catching a slight nod from her sister. It wasn't forgiveness, not yet, but it was a start.

—

The demigods gathered outside, their faces a mixture of relief and joy as they watched Millicent take her first tentative steps.

Millicent, supported by her sisters, made slow but steady progress. However, her smile faltered as she noticed the wary glances from some of the villagers. She turned to Mary, her voice barely above a whisper. "Did I... did I hurt anyone when I was... when..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Mary squeezed her hand reassuringly. "No, Milli. Everyone's fine."

But Millicent caught the flicker in Mary's eyes. "You're lying," she said softly. "Please, I need to know."

Maureen stepped in, her voice gentle but firm. "There was some damage to the village, and a few minor injuries. But nothing irreparable, Milli. It wasn't your fault."

Amy nodded in agreement. "We'll help make amends. Together."

Polyanna chimed in, her usual cheerfulness tempered by concern. "The important thing is you're okay now. We'll face whatever comes next as a family."

Millicent nodded, grateful for her sisters' support but still troubled by the weight of what had happened.

Nearby, Magnus and Maeve stood slightly apart from the others. Maeve's eyes were fixed on Millicent, her expression a mix of relief and lingering guilt.

"Magnus," she began hesitantly, "can you ever forgive me for this?"

Magnus was quiet for a moment, his golden eyes thoughtful. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still angry, Maeve. Your actions put Millicent and the others in grave danger."

Maeve winced but nodded, accepting the criticism.

"But," Magnus continued, his voice softening, "you're my sister. My twin. We've both been given a second chance at life, and I don't want to waste it holding grudges." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "We've been through too much together to let this drive us apart."

Maeve's eyes welled with tears she refused to let fall. "I swear, Magnus, I'll do better. I won't let you down again."

"I know," Magnus said, a small smile forming on his lips. "Just... think before you act next time, okay? We need you, Maeve. All of us."

Their moment was interrupted by the approach of a woman Maeve had never seen before. Her eyes widened as she took in the newcomer's distinctive gloam-colored eyes.

"Who the fuck is this?" Maeve demanded, her body tensing instinctively.

Magnus placed a calming hand on her arm. "Maeve, this is Morana, the Gloam-Eyed Queen. The former wielder of Destined Death."

Maeve's eyes narrowed as she locked gazes with Morana. The air between them seemed to crackle with tension, two wielders of immense power sizing each other up.

Morana spoke first, her voice carrying the weight of ages. "So, you're the one who now bears the burden of Destined Death."

Maeve's hand unconsciously moved to the hilt of her weapon. "And you're the one who couldn't handle it."

The other demigods watched the exchange warily, sensing the potential for conflict. Magnus stepped between them, his voice firm. "This isn't the time or place for this. We have more pressing matters to attend to."

Maeve and Morana continued to stare each other down, neither willing to back away first. The tension in the air was palpable, a silent battle of wills between the former and current wielders of one of the most powerful and dangerous forces in existence.

Chapter End Notes

Poor Millicent... will she be saved or be doomed to madness...