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.

11. Chapter 89 to 93

Chapter 89: Reuniting
Chapter Text Magnus leaned over the intricate map of Leyndell, his golden eyes scanning the detailed layout of the city he had never seen. Miquella, moved with practiced ease around the table, his small finger tracing along the map's surface.
"Here, brother," Miquella said. "The outer walls are formidable, but there's a weakness in the sewers beneath the city. If we could infiltrate from below..."
Magnus nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed. "And what of the defenses around where the Erdtree itself used to be?"
Before Miquella could answer, a sharp knock interrupted their strategizing. A Haligtree knight, her armor gleaming in the soft light, entered with a bow.
"My lords," she said, "I bring news. Lord Godwyn has returned to the Haligtree. He's accompanied by Lady Lansseax and a contingent of Leyndell Knights."
Magnus straightened, a smile breaking across his face. "Excellent news. Thank you for informing us."
As the knight departed, Miquella rolled up the map with deft movements. "It seems our brother's mission was a success. Shall we greet them?"
"Indeed," Magnus agreed, his wings rustling slightly as he moved towards the door. "I'm eager to hear what Godwyn has found."
The two brothers made their way through the winding passages of the Haligtree. As they emerged onto the docks, they saw a ship mooring.
Godwyn was the first to disembark, his golden hair catching the light. Behind him came Lansseax in her human form, and a group of knights in gleaming armor.
"Brothers!" Godwyn called out, his voice carrying across the dock. "It's good to see you both."
Magnus stepped forward, clasping Godwyn's arm in greeting. "Welcome back, brother. I trust your journey was successful?"
Godwyn nodded, his expression a mix of weariness and satisfaction. "More than I had hoped. Allow me to introduce Commander Kristian of the Leyndell Knights."
A young man in ornate armor stepped forward, bowing deeply. "It's an honor to meet you, Lord Magnus, Lord Miquella. We've come to offer our swords in service of your cause."
Miquella approached, his small stature belying the authority in his voice. "We're grateful for your support, Commander. I look forward to hearing your insights."
As the group began to move towards the Haligtree proper, Magnus fell into step beside Lansseax. "I hope the voyage wasn't too taxing," he said softly.
Lansseax smiled, her dragon heritage evident in the glint of her eyes. "For one who has soared through ages, a sea voyage is but a moment's peace. But I am glad to be back... there is much to discuss."
As they settled into the war room, Godwyn's expression grew somber. He leaned against the table, his golden armor catching the light from the nearby windows.
Godwyn took a deep breath. "The Leyndell Knights were there when the Frenzied Flame tore the capital from the very earth. The sky turned a sickening yellow, and the ground... it just crumbled away. Many were lost in those first chaotic moments."
"Kristoff was one of my most trusted knights before... well, before everything changed. His son is Commander Kristian who took up the mantle, he has his spirit, that's for certain."
Lansseax, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. "The boy has potential, but he carries a heavy burden. The weight of leadership sits uneasily on his young shoulders."
There was a moment of silence as they all absorbed the gravity of the situation. Then Godwyn looked around, his brow furrowing.
"What of Maeve and her group? Have they not returned yet? I would have thought they'd beat us here, given the proximity of the Mountaintops."
Magnus and Miquella exchanged a glance, and Magnus shook his head, worry evident in his golden eyes.
"No, they haven't returned," Magnus said, his usually serene voice tinged with concern. "We expected them back by now."
Miquella placed a comforting hand on Magnus's arm. "I'm sure they're fine, brother. Maeve is more than capable of handling herself, and she has the girls and the others with her."
Magnus nodded, but the worry didn't leave his eyes. "You're right, of course. But still... perhaps we should consider sending out a search party if they don't return soon."
Godwyn straightened, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "I'll go myself if need be. We can't afford to lose anyone, not with what we're up against."
Lansseax's eyes narrowed, her draconic nature showing through. "Let's not be hasty. They may simply have been delayed. The Mountaintops are treacherous, even for ones as skilled as they."
The room fell into a tense silence, the joy of reunion now tempered by concern for their missing family members and the looming threat of the Frenzied Flame.
The group's discussion was interrupted by another knock. A knight entered, bowing slightly before speaking.
"My lords, Lord Messmer has returned. His ship is docking as we speak."
Surprise flickered across their faces. Magnus was the first to speak, "Messmer? Already? I thought his journey would take the longest."
They made their way back to the docks, curiosity evident in their brisk pace. As they arrived, they saw Messmer disembarking, his tall figure unmistakable even from a distance.
"Brother," Magnus called out as they approached. "We didn't expect you back so soon. How did your mission fare?"
Messmer's gold eyes met Magnus's, a mix of satisfaction and lingering anger in his gaze. "It was... swift," he replied, his voice low and controlled. "We spent most of our time sailing. Once we landed, it took barely a day to find the Hornsent and end her."
Miquella stepped forward, his childlike face creased with concern. "And you're certain it was the last one? Truly the end of their kind?"
Messmer's face darkened, his jaw clenching visibly. "I hope to all that is holy that it was," he said, his voice tight with suppressed rage. "If not... well, I'll hunt down every last one until their race is nothing but a foul memory."
Magnus placed a hand on Messmer's shoulder, his touch radiating a calming aura. Yet his words were unexpectedly harsh. "I understand your anger, brother. And I agree - the Hornsent chose their fate. They deserved no mercy for their actions."
Godwyn and Lansseax exchanged a glance, surprised by Magnus's uncharacteristically hard stance. Miquella, however, nodded solemnly.
"While it pains me to see any race extinguished," Miquella said softly, "the Hornsent's crimes were unforgivable. You've done what was necessary, Messmer."
Messmer's posture relaxed slightly at his siblings' words. He looked out over the water, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's done. But the anger... it doesn't fade as easily as I'd hoped."
As the group processed Messmer's news, another knight hurried towards them, slightly out of breath.
"My lords," he said, bowing quickly, "I bring word of Lady Maeve's group. They've been spotted approaching the Eastern Wing, flying unusually low. It appears they're carrying a substantial amount of... materials."
Magnus's brow furrowed in confusion. "Materials? What sort of materials?"
The knight shook his head. "I'm afraid I couldn't discern from this distance, my lord. But their flight seemed encumbered."
Magnus immediately spread his majestic white wings. "I'll go see what this is about. Perhaps they've encountered trouble."
Before he could take off, Miquella spoke up. "Wait, brother. We're curious too. Let's all go and see what Maeve and the others have brought back."
Godwyn nodded in agreement. "Indeed. It's not like Maeve to be secretive. This could be important."
As the group prepared to move, Messmer held back. His face was a mask of barely contained emotions, the encounter with the Hornsent still weighing heavily on him.
"If you'll excuse me," he said, his voice low and strained, "I think I need some time alone. I'll be in my chambers if you need me."
Magnus looked at his brother with concern but nodded respectfully. "Of course, Messmer. Take the time you need."
As Messmer walked away, his serpent companions coiling tighter around him as if sensing his distress, the others began making their way towards the Eastern Wing.
Magnus kept his wings spread, ready to take flight at a moment's notice. "I don't like this," he muttered. "Maeve isn't one for surprises."
Miquella kept pace beside him, his small legs moving quickly. "Let's not jump to conclusions, brother. The girls are with her, after all. Perhaps they've simply found something interesting in the Mountaintops."
Godwyn's hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ever vigilant. "Interesting or not, we should be prepared for anything. Knowing Maeve it could be a prisoner"
As they approached the girls' chamber, a cacophony of voices filtered through the door. They could hear Maeve's exasperated tone mixed with the girls' excited chatter and Gwen and Eleanora's urgent pleas.
"Come on, you little magpies! We need to hide this stuff before—" Maeve's voice was cut off by a sharp squeal.
"That's mine! I found it first!" one of the girls cried out.
"No way! I grabbed it!" another retorted.
Magnus exchanged a puzzled look with the others before pushing the door open. The scene that greeted them was one of cheerful chaos.
Maureen, Amy, and Polyanna were engaged in a tug-of-war over a large, ornate golden necklace. Millicent was admiring her prosthetic arm, now adorned with sparkling ruby gemstones. Mary had woven various shiny trinkets into her hair, giving her a whimsical appearance. Gwen and Eleanora stood to the side, adorned with an assortment of necklaces and rings, looking both amused and slightly guilty. And there was Maeve, wearing a golden crown that sat askew on her head, her black wings now decorated with intricate golden designs.
The room fell silent as they noticed the newcomers. Magnus stepped forward, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. "What in the name of the Erdtree is going on here? Where did all of this come from?"
Mary, the eldest, cleared her throat. "Well, Father, you see... after our mission, we may have gone on a little... treasure hunt."
Magnus's eyebrows shot up as he turned to Maeve. "You took them treasure hunting? Seriously?"
Before Maeve could defend herself, Polyanna, always the impulsive one, blurted out, "And monster hunting too! It was awesome!"
Her sisters collectively groaned, with Amy giving Polyanna a not-so-subtle elbow to the ribs.
Magnus's face cycled through a range of emotions – surprise, anger, and finally, reluctant amusement. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to maintain a stern expression. "Maeve, I can't believe you—"
But he was interrupted by the sound of laughter. Godwyn was leaning against the doorframe, shoulders shaking with mirth. Miquella, despite his usual composure, was giggling into his hand, and even Lansseax wore an amused smile.
"Oh, come now, Magnus," Godwyn chuckled. "You can't tell me you wouldn't have done the same at their age if given the chance."
Maeve, seizing the opportunity, grinned mischievously at her twin. "See? Uncle Godwyn gets it. Besides, they're naturals. You should've seen Polyanna take down that frost troll."
"Frost troll?!" Magnus exclaimed, his wings ruffling in agitation.
Miquella stepped forward, still smiling. "While perhaps not the most... responsible decision, it seems they've all returned safely. And with quite the haul, I might add."
Magnus sighed, looking at his daughters' eager faces and then back at his unrepentant sister. "We'll discuss this later," he said, trying to sound stern but unable to keep a small smile from tugging at his lips. "For now, let's get you all cleaned up and hear about your... adventures."
As the girls began chattering excitedly about their exploits, Maeve caught Magnus's eye and winked. Despite his initial anger, Magnus couldn't help but feel a warmth in his chest.
Magnus stared at his daughters with a sad smile as they chattered excitedly about their adventures. His golden eyes moved from one to another, drinking in their animated expressions and lively gestures. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, solely focused on them.
Suddenly, his gaze caught on a large bandage on Amy's side. His face immediately shifted to concern as he stepped forward quickly. "Amy, what happened? Are you hurt?"
Amy, startled by her father's sudden intensity, stammered, "Oh, it's nothing, Father. I just got a little scrape during a fight."
"A fight?" Magnus's voice rose slightly. "With what? That looks bad"
Amy hesitated before answering, "A ghostly banished knight. But it's really not bad—"
Magnus whirled to face Maeve, his wings flaring slightly. "Banished knights? Maeve, how could you let them face such danger? Those warriors are formidable even for experienced fighters!"
Maeve, taken aback by her brother's uncharacteristic outburst, held up her hands. "Magnus, calm down. I was there the entire time. The cut isn't even deep. We just wrapped it in a large bandage to keep it secure and warm in the mountain air."
Magnus took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. After a moment, he said softly, "I... I'm sorry. I overreacted." He turned back to his daughters, his eyes lingering on Amy. "I'm just glad you're all okay."
Without another word, Magnus excused himself and left the room. Amy made to follow him, concern etched on her face, but Maeve gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Let me talk to him," Maeve said softly. "Your father... he's carrying more than he lets on. Stay here with your sisters. I'll make sure he's alright."
As Maeve left to follow Magnus, the room fell into an uneasy silence, the earlier excitement dampened by Magnus's unexpected reaction.
Maeve found Magnus at an overlook, gazing out over the Haligtree. She approached him cautiously.
"So, want to tell me what that was about?" she asked, her tone unusually gentle.
Magnus sighed heavily. "I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm, Maeve."
"Well, that's rude feather boy," Maeve retorted, then immediately regretted it when Magnus shot her a look. "Sorry, sorry. Old habits."
She moved to stand beside him, their shoulders almost touching. For a moment, they stood in silence, watching the ethereal glow of the Haligtree.
"You know," Maeve began, "they're far more capable than you give them credit for."
Magnus's shoulders sagged. "I know they are. It's just..."
"You're scared," Maeve finished for him, her voice soft.
"Is it that obvious?" Magnus asked, a hint of a rueful smile on his face.
Maeve nudged him gently. "Only to someone who knows you as well as I do. Which, unfortunately for both of us, I do."
Magnus chuckled softly, then grew serious again. "I can't lose them, Maeve. Not after..."
"I know," Maeve said, her own voice tight with emotion. "Losing Rhaegon... it was devastating. For all of us. But especially for you and Malenia."
She turned to face her brother fully. "But Magnus, you can't coddle them anymore. They're not little girls. They're becoming women, warriors... archangels, for heaven's sake."
Magnus nodded slowly. "You're right, of course. It's just hard to let go."
"Who said anything about letting go?" Maeve asked, taking his hand in hers. "We're family. We hold on tight. But we also trust each other to be strong."
She squeezed his hand. "And believe me, brother, I would die a hundred times over before I let anything happen to those girls again. Not after... not after last time."
Magnus turned to look at his sister, seeing the fierce determination in her eyes. "I believe you," he said softly. "Thank you, Maeve. For watching over them... and for knocking some sense into me."
Maeve grinned. "Well, someone has to. Might as well be me."
They shared a laugh, the tension finally breaking. As they stood there, looking out over their home, the bond between them felt stronger than ever, forged in the fires of loss and tempered by the love they shared for their family.
Gwen and Eleanora stepped out of the girls' chamber, having divested themselves of the various pieces of jewelry they'd been adorned with.
"I can't wait to wash off all this snow and grime," Gwen sighed, stretching her spectral wings.
Eleanora nodded in agreement. "A week of flying through blizzards and fighting monsters... I'm ready for a hot bath and a long nap."
As they turned the corner, they nearly collided with a familiar figure. Both women froze, their eyes widening in shock.
"Seroch?" they exclaimed in unison.
Without hesitation, they lunged forward, enveloping him in a tight embrace. Seroch stumbled back, caught off guard by their enthusiastic greeting.
"Easy there," he chuckled, his voice warm despite the surprise.
As they stepped back, Gwen and Eleanora took in his altered appearance. An eyepatch now covered one eye, and his left sleeve hung empty where his arm used to be.
Gwen's face fell slightly, a mix of sadness and concern in her eyes. "Oh, Seroch..."
But Eleanora's reaction was different. She grinned widely, giving him a playful punch on his remaining arm. "Look at you! That eyepatch makes you look like a total badass."
Seroch laughed, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Thanks, Eleanora. It's good to see you both."
Gwen's expression softened, matching Eleanora's smile. "It's wonderful to see you up and about. We were so worried."
"I appreciate that," Seroch said, his voice sincere. Then his nose wrinkled slightly, and he added with a smirk, "Though I have to say, you two smell like you've been rolling in a troll's den."
Gwen gasped in mock offense while Eleanora barked out a laugh.
"Oh, fuck off, Seroch," Eleanora retorted good-naturedly. "We're on our way to remedy that situation right now."
"Yeah, yeah," Gwen added, already moving past him towards the baths. "Not all of us can laze about in bed for weeks on end."
The three of them shared a laugh as Gwen and Eleanora continued on their way, leaving Seroch shaking his head in amusement.
Gwen and Eleanora made their way to the large bathing chambers, both eager to wash away the grime and fatigue of their journey. As they entered, servants immediately began preparing their baths, filling the ornate tubs with steaming water and fragrant oils.
Settling into their respective baths, Gwen let out a contented sigh. "By the Erdtree, I've been dreaming of this for days."
Eleanora chuckled, sinking deeper into the warm water. "You can say that again. I swear I still have snow in places I didn't know existed."
"At least we're finally done with the Mountaintops," Gwen mused, closing her eyes as a servant began washing her hair.
Eleanora nodded, then added hesitantly, "You know, following Maeve's orders wasn't as bad as I expected."
Gwen laughed, opening one eye to look at her fellow archangel. "Maeve isn't nearly as terrifying as some make her out to be. At least, not if you're on her good side."
"True enough," Eleanora agreed. She was quiet for a moment, then said, "Although... part of me wishes the Bloody Fingers we found weren't coming to the Haligtree."
Gwen sat up a bit, curiosity piqued. "Oh? Why's that?"
Eleanora sighed, her expression conflicted. "I just... I don't trust them. Old hatred dies hard, I suppose."
Gwen's face softened with understanding. "I get it. But you know we need all the allies we can get right now. We can't afford to turn away potential help."
"I know, I know," Eleanora said, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry, I'll set it aside. For the greater good and all that."
Gwen smiled encouragingly. "That's the spirit. Besides, who knows? Maybe working alongside them will help heal some of those old wounds."
Eleanora snorted, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. "Let's not get carried away. But... I'll try."
As they continued their bath, the conversation drifted to lighter topics, both women relishing in the simple pleasure of being clean and warm after their arduous journey.
Godwyn led Kristian and the other Leyndell Knights through the winding passages of the Haligtree. The young commander, Kristian, remained quiet and stoic, his earlier reluctance to join them still evident in his demeanor.
Godwyn was grateful for the presence of Galahad, one of the first Leyndell Knights who had known him before the Night of Black Knives. Aldric, another knight who had served under Godwyn in those earlier days, also helped ease the tension.
As they reached a large wing of the Haligtree, Godwyn gestured expansively. "My brother Miquella has designated this entire section for the Leyndell Knights to occupy."
The knights surveyed the area, their expressions a mix of curiosity and skepticism. While the structure was indeed large, it didn't seem quite spacious enough to house their entire contingent comfortably.
Kristian, ever blunt, voiced this concern. "This doesn't appear sufficient for all of us, Lord Godwyn."
Galahad shot Kristian a warning look, but Godwyn waved it off good-naturedly.
"You're right to be concerned, Kristian," Godwyn replied. "Miquella intends to expand this section further. And if additional tents or amenities are needed in the meantime, I'll personally see to it that they're provided."
Aldric and Galahad both subtly nudged Kristian when he remained silent. Finally, the young commander spoke up, his voice stiff but polite. "Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Godwyn."
Godwyn nodded, understanding the difficulty of the situation for these proud knights. "You're welcome, Kristian. I know this is a significant change for all of you."
As they continued the tour, Godwyn hoped that time and shared purpose would help bridge the gap between the old guard and the new, uniting them all in the challenges that lay ahead.
Godwyn stood with Aldric and Galahad, their tour of the Haligtree complete. The two older knights were still apologizing for Kristian's behavior.
"My lord," Aldric began, "we're truly sorry for Kristian's attitude. It's unbecoming of a Leyndell Knight."
Godwyn held up a hand, shaking his head. "It's alright. Kristian doesn't know me as you do. This is a significant change for him and all of you."
Galahad frowned, his weathered face creased with concern. "Still, he should show you proper respect, Lord Godwyn. You're not just our commander, but a demigod and our rightful ruler."
Godwyn nodded, understanding their perspective. "I appreciate your loyalty. Give him time. Actions will speak louder than words."
As they discussed this, Lansseax approached the group, her silver hair gleaming in the soft light of the Haligtree.
"Gentlemen," she greeted them, then added with a hint of amusement, "I couldn't help but overhear. It seems young Kristian has inherited his father Kristoff's legendary stubbornness."
This elicited a round of chuckles from the group, easing some of the tension.
Lansseax then turned to Godwyn, her expression growing more serious. "Godwyn, might I have a word with you in private?"
Godwyn nodded, excusing himself from Aldric and Galahad. He and Lansseax moved a short distance away, out of earshot of the others.
"What is it, Lansseax?" Godwyn asked, noticing the concern in her eyes.
Lansseax sighed, her gaze drifting towards the direction of the sea. "It's Magnus. He's been standing at the overlook for hours, staring out at the horizon. I can sense his restlessness... his worry."
Godwyn's brow furrowed. "Malenia and Radahn haven't returned yet, have they?"
Lansseax shook her head. "No, and that's what's troubling him. I fear he's considering flying out to search for them himself."
Godwyn ran a hand through his golden hair, concern etching his features. "That could be dangerous, especially if there's a reason for their delay. We can't risk losing Magnus too."
"I agree," Lansseax said softly. "But you know how he is when it comes to Malenia. I thought you should know, in case we need to... intervene."
Godwyn nodded, his mind already working on how to approach this delicate situation. "Thank you, Lansseax. I'll speak with him."
Godwyn and Lansseax's conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of raised voices and the clatter of armor. They exchanged a quick glance before rushing towards the nearby courtyard.
As they arrived, they were met with a chaotic scene. Leyndell Knights and former Gelmir Knights, now part of Magnus's Host, were engaged in a heated brawl. Fists flew and armor clanged as the two groups clashed.
"Blasphemous dogs!" a Leyndell Knight shouted, his face contorted with rage. "You burned our villages, slaughtered our people!"
A former Gelmir Knight, his face red with exertion and anger, shouted back, "We were following orders! We didn't know Rykard's true nature then!"
"Lies!" another Leyndell Knight spat. "You knew exactly what you were doing!"
Godwyn's voice boomed across the courtyard, imbued with the authority of his divine lineage. "ENOUGH!"
The fighting paused momentarily, all eyes turning to Godwyn and Lansseax. Godwyn strode forward, his golden armor gleaming, his face a mask of stern disapproval.
"Is this how warriors of the Lands Between conduct themselves?" he demanded. "Fighting amongst ourselves while greater threats loom?"
Lansseax moved beside him, her draconic heritage lending her an air of ancient wisdom. "Your grievances are rooted in the past, but we must focus on the future if we are to survive."
A Leyndell Knight, his lip bloodied, stepped forward. "But Lord Godwyn, how can we fight alongside those who committed such atrocities?"
Godwyn's expression softened slightly. "I understand your pain. The Shattering brought out the worst in many. But these men," he gestured to the former Gelmir Knights, "have chosen a new path. They serve Magnus now."
As the situation escalated, a sudden hush fell over the crowd. Gwen, one of Magnus's archangels, descended into the courtyard, her spectral wings creating a momentary spectacle. The Leyndell Knights, unfamiliar with the angels, stared in a mixture of awe and wariness.
Gwen's gaze swept over the scene, taking in the bloodied knights and the tense standoff. Her voice, though calm, carried an undercurrent of steel as she addressed the Host Knights.
"This behavior dishonors the trust Lord Magnus has placed in you," she stated firmly. "Is this how you demonstrate your commitment to our cause?"
The Host Knights shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, the weight of their actions sinking in.
Godwyn stepped forward, his voice authoritative. "This incident underscores the challenges we face, but it also highlights the urgent need for unity. We cannot afford such division in our ranks."
Lansseax moved to Aldric's side, assessing his injuries. "He requires healing," she announced, her tone brooking no argument.
Godwyn nodded, addressing the gathered knights. "See to the wounded. We will convene tomorrow to address this matter fully and determine how we move forward. Remember, the true enemy lies beyond our walls, not within them."
Magnus's golden eyes reflect the fading light as he gazes out over the sea, his white wings rustling softly in the evening breeze. His brow furrows with concern, but he takes a deep breath, reminding himself of the bond he shares with Malenia. He can almost feel her presence, distant but strong.
The rhythmic sound of wingbeats breaks his reverie. Gwen alights beside him, her spectral wings folding neatly against her back. She hesitates before speaking, her voice tinged with worry.
"My lord, I hate to disturb you, but there's been an... incident."
Magnus turns to face her, his expression a mixture of curiosity and resignation. "What's happened, Gwen?"
She fidgets slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the news she bears. "There was a fight between some of the Leyndell Knights and our own. It... it got out of hand. Captain Aldric, one of Godwyn's friends, he's been badly injured."
Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. "Who started it?"
Gwen shakes her head. "It's not that simple. There's been tension brewing. The Leyndell Knights, they're... wary of some of our people. Especially those who once served Rykard."
Magnus nods, understanding the complexities at play. "Old grudges die hard, it seems. Where are they now?"
"We've separated them. The wounded are being tended to in the infirmary."
Magnus straightens, his wings unfurling slightly. "I'll speak with them myself. We can't afford this kind of division, not now."
They arrive at the infirmary, Magnus pauses at the entrance, steeling himself for the task ahead. He knows that mending these wounds will take more than just healing magic. It will require patience, understanding, and a firm hand to guide them all towards a shared purpose.
As Magnus enters the infirmary, the atmosphere shifts palpably. His own men drop to one knee, their heads bowed in reverence. The Leyndell Knights, caught off guard by his presence, stare with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. Their eyes widen at the sight of his majestic white wings and the subtle glow that seems to emanate from his very being.
Magnus approaches the bedside where Commander Kristian stands vigil over the injured Aldric. The commander's normally stern face betrays a flicker of emotion as he meets Magnus's golden gaze.
"I am Magnus," he introduces himself, his voice carrying a gentle authority. "I wish this meeting were under better circumstances."
Commander Kristian nods stiffly, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. "My lord," he manages, his voice slightly hoarse.
Magnus turns his attention to Aldric, extending his hands over the wounded knight. A soft, ethereal light envelops his palms, pulsing with shades of white and blue. The onlookers watch in fascination as Aldric's wounds begin to close, the pain visibly easing from his face.
"I apologize for the actions of my men," Magnus says solemnly. "This conflict should never have escalated to this point."
As the healing concludes, Magnus straightens, his expression becoming more serious. He addresses the Leyndell Knights directly, his voice firm but not unkind.
"I understand your reservations about some of the men in my service," he begins. "Yes, some did once serve Rykard. But I assure you, the Gelmir Knights were not privy to the depths of their lord's blasphemy. Their loyalty, while misplaced, was born of duty and honor."
He pauses, letting his words sink in. "When Rykard's true nature was revealed, they turned against him. Since joining my Host, they have dedicated themselves to atoning for their past, including the wrongs committed against Leyndell."
Commander Kristian shifts uncomfortably, but there's a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "We... we were not aware of this, my lord."
Magnus nods. "I don't expect instant trust. But I do expect all of you—Leyndell Knights and my Host alike—to set aside old grievances and work together. The challenges we face require unity, not division."
He turns to address both groups now. "Is that understood?"
A chorus of "Yes, my lord" echoes through the infirmary, though some voices are more hesitant than others.
Magnus turns, sensing a familiar presence. Godwyn stands in the doorway, an amused grin playing on his lips. As Magnus approaches, Godwyn's expression shifts to one of gratitude.
"Thank you for handling that, brother," Godwyn says, his voice low. "I've been struggling to get through to young Kristian."
Magnus raises an eyebrow. "Is he disloyal to you?"
Godwyn shakes his head emphatically. "No, not at all. He's the son of Kristoff, one of my most trusted knights from... before. Kristian's just been through a lot. He was thrust into leadership far too young, even by Leyndell standards."
Magnus nods, understanding. "It's not easy, carrying such responsibility."
Their conversation is abruptly cut short by the sound of shouting and the unmistakable ring of steel being drawn. They turn to see a tense tableau unfolding.
Kristian stands with his sword drawn, face contorted in rage. Across from him, Seroch, still bearing the marks of his recent ordeal, fumbles to draw his own blade with his new prosthetic arm.
"You bastard!" Kristian snarls. "Do you know how many of my friends you killed at Mt. Gelmir? Men I trained with, grew up with!"
Seroch's single eye narrows, his voice rough with emotion. "And what of my brother, Kristian? Did you think of him when your blade took his life?"
Magnus and Godwyn move swiftly, positioning themselves between the two men.
"Enough!" Godwyn commands, his voice carrying the weight of his authority.
Magnus adds, his tone stern but calm, "Lower your weapons. This is not the time or place for—"
But the two knights seem beyond reason, their grievances too raw to be easily set aside.
Seroch lunges forward, only to be held back by a guard's surprisingly strong grip. "You know nothing of loyalty, you Leyndell dog!"
The tension in the room reaches a fever pitch, with both sides on the verge of all-out brawl. Then, a cold, threatening voice cuts through the chaos like a blade of ice.
"That's quite enough."
All eyes turn to see Maeve standing in the doorway, her crimson hair and dark wings a stark contrast to Magnus's angelic appearance. The Leyndell Knights, who moments ago were ready to fight, now shrink back, clearly unnerved by her presence.
Maeve's red eyes scan the room, her voice calm but laced with unmistakable menace. "I am not my brothers. I don't have their... patience." She takes a step forward, and several knights instinctively step back. "If you cannot resolve this like the supposed warriors you claim to be, I'll be happy to step in and resolve it for you. I assure you, you won't enjoy my methods."
The room falls silent, the threat hanging heavy in the air. Magnus and Godwyn exchange a look, a mix of exasperation and grudging appreciation for their sister's intervention.
Maeve continues, her gaze locked on Kristian and Seroch. "Now, are you going to behave like the allies we need you to be, or shall I give you a demonstration of how I deal with squabbling children?"
The tension slowly ebbs as both men lower their weapons, though their glares remain fixed on each other.
Magnus steps forward, his voice firm but compassionate. "We've all lost people we care about. We've all done things we regret. But we cannot let the past dictate our future. The threats we face now are far greater than our old grudges."
Godwyn nods in agreement. "Kristian, Seroch, I expect better from both of you. We need unity, not division. Can you put aside your differences for the greater good?"
The two men look at each other, then back at their leaders. Slowly, reluctantly, they nod.
"Good," Maeve says, a sardonic smile playing on her lips. "Now that we've had our little heart-to-heart, perhaps we can focus on more pressing matters. Like, oh, I don't know, saving the realm?"
The tension in the room finally breaks, replaced by a tentative, if uneasy, truce. Magnus and Godwyn share a look of relief, knowing that while this crisis has been averted, the road to true unity will be long and fraught with challenges.
The demigods and Lansseax step out into the hallway, the tension from the infirmary slowly dissipating. Magnus runs a hand through his golden hair, exhaling deeply.
"Well, sister," he says, turning to Maeve with a mixture of amusement and gratitude, "your... unique approach certainly seemed to do the trick."
Godwyn nods in agreement, a wry smile on his face. "Indeed. Sometimes a little fear goes a long way in maintaining order."
Maeve's crimson eyes sparkle with mischief as she grins. "What can I say? It's just my natural charm."
Lansseax, her silver hair catching the light, raises an eyebrow. "Charm isn't quite the word I'd use, but it was effective nonetheless."
Godwyn looks at Maeve curiously. "But why were you near the infirmary in the first place? I thought you were supposed to be on patrol."
Maeve's grin widens as she turns to Magnus. "Actually, dear brother, I came bearing news. Some ships have been spotted sailing towards us."
Magnus's eyes light up, his wings rustling with excitement. "Malenia and Radahn? They're finally back?"
"Could be," Maeve replies. "It was too dark for the spotters to make out any sigils. I was about to fly out and investigate myself, but then I noticed something rather... distinctive."
"Oh?" Lansseax leans in, intrigued.
Maeve chuckles. "A purple glow. Like a giant, glowing buffoon out at sea."
The group bursts into laughter, the earlier tension completely forgotten.
Godwyn claps a hand on Magnus's shoulder. "Well then, shall we head to the docks to greet our returning heroes?"
They all nod in agreement, making their way through the winding corridors of the Haligtree. As they walk, Lansseax falls into step beside Magnus.
"Are you alright?" she asks quietly. "I know recent times have been difficult for you and Malenia."
Magnus gives her a small smile. "I will be, once I see her safe. Thank you, Lansseax."
As they approach the docks, the sound of waves and the salty sea air greet them. The night sky is clear, stars twinkling above, and in the distance, they can make out the faint glow of approaching ships.
The purple glow grows stronger, and soon they can make out the massive silhouette of Radahn standing at the bow of the lead ship. Beside him, a smaller figure with flowing red hair – Malenia.
As the ship glides into the dock, the bustling sound of the workers preparing to unload fills the air. The gangplank lowers with a thud, and Radahn's massive form emerges first, his purple glow illuminating the night. Malenia follows close behind, her red hair flowing in the sea breeze.
Greetings and embraces are exchanged all around. Godwyn clasps Radahn's forearm in a warrior's greeting, while Maeve offers a rare, genuine smile to her returned siblings. Lansseax hangs back slightly, her eyes warm as she watches the reunion.
But for Magnus and Malenia, the world narrows to just the two of them. They stand facing each other, a moment of silent communication passing between them.
Then, as if drawn by an irresistible force, they come together in a tight embrace. Magnus's wings instinctively curl around them, creating a cocoon of white feathers. Malenia buries her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply, as if trying to memorize his scent all over again.
"I missed you," Malenia whispers, her voice barely audible.
Magnus tightens his hold on her. "And I you, my love. More than words can express."
For a blissful moment, everything else fades away. The sounds of the dock, the chatter of their siblings, the lapping of waves against the shore – all of it disappears as they lose themselves in each other's presence.
Suddenly, a flurry of movement breaks their reverie. Small hands and arms wrap around them from all sides, accompanied by a chorus of excited voices.
"Mother! Father!"
"You're back!"
"We missed you so much!"
Magnus and Malenia open their eyes to find themselves surrounded by their daughters. Mary, the eldest, has managed to wedge herself between them, while Maureen is attempting to climb up Magnus's back to join the hug. Amy, quiet as always, has her arms wrapped tightly around Malenia's waist. Millicent, balancing on her toes, is trying to reach over her sisters to touch Malenia's face, her prosthetic arm glinting in the moonlight. Polyanna, not to be outdone, is tugging on Magnus's wing, trying to create an opening in the feathery barrier.
"Girls, girls," Malenia laughs, her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy. "There's enough of me for everyone."
"Move over, Mary!" Maureen complains. "I can't reach Mother!"
"I was here first," Mary retorts, but there's no real heat in her words.
Amy says nothing, but tightens her grip on Malenia's waist.
Millicent finally manages to touch Malenia's cheek. "Your face is wet, Mother. Are you crying?"
Polyanna, having given up on breaching Magnus's wing barrier, ducks under instead. "Father, your wings are in the way!"
Magnus chuckles, his own eyes glistening. "My apologies, little one." He unfurls his wings slightly, allowing Polyanna to join the group hug properly.
As the family stands there, tangled in a mess of limbs and wings and love, the others watch with fond smiles. Even Maeve can't suppress a small grin at the sight.
For this moment, at least, all is right in their world. The challenges that await them can wait just a little longer.
Radahn steps forward, his imposing figure dwarfing those around him. With a sweeping gesture of his massive arm, he introduces the group of robed figures standing nearby.
"These are the Sellian sorcerers who've agreed to join our cause," Radahn announces, his deep voice carrying across the dock.
As Magnus turns his attention to the newcomers, a flicker of recognition passes over his face. One of the sorcerers, an older man with a neatly trimmed beard, steps forward and bows slightly.
"Lord Magnus," the sorcerer says, "it's an honor to meet you again. I'm not sure if you remember, but we fought alongside you and Master Vorien during the Battle of the Lake of Rot."
Magnus's eyes light up with recollection. "Of course! How could I forget? Your assistance was invaluable that day."
Malenia, still nestled in the family embrace, lets out a soft chuckle. "Ah, the Lake of Rot. What a delightful memory."
Magnus turns to her, a wry smile on his face. "As I recall, you weren't too fond of me back then."
"Can you blame me?" Malenia retorts, her tone playful. "This mysterious new brother appears out of nowhere, brings me back to life, and expects me to trust him implicitly?"
"And now?" Magnus asks, his voice soft.
Malenia's expression softens. "And now you're one of the closest people to my heart."
Their moment is interrupted as Malenia remembers her own introductions. She gently disentangles herself from the family embrace and gestures to a group of knights standing at attention nearby.
"These are the Cleanrot Knights I found during our journey," Malenia explains. She places a hand on the shoulder of a tall, imposing woman with short-cropped hair. "This is Elowen. She's taken charge of the group recently, due to... unfortunate circumstances."
Elowen bows deeply. "It's an honor to serve, my lords and ladies."
Malenia scans the crowd, her brow furrowing slightly. "Where are Miquella and Messmer? I expected them to be here."
Maeve, her crimson eyes glinting with mischief, responds with her trademark sarcasm. "Oh, didn't you hear? Miquella's decided he no longer wishes to see you. And Messmer? Well, he's off brooding somewhere, as usual."
Malenia rolls her eyes, but there's a fond smile playing on her lips. "I see your charm hasn't diminished in my absence, dear sister. I've missed you dearly."
"Naturally," Maeve quips with a smirk.
Turning her attention to her daughters, Malenia asks, "And how did you girls fare on your mission? I trust you conducted yourselves appropriately?"
The girls exchange quick, nervous glances before Maeve interjects, "Oh, they were excellent. Model soldiers, really."
Magnus clears his throat, giving Maeve a pointed look. "Perhaps you'd like to tell your mother the whole truth?"
Maeve sighs dramatically. "Fine, spoilsport. I may have taken them on a little... extracurricular adventure. Monster hunting, treasure seeking, you know, the usual."
Malenia's eyes narrow dangerously. "You did what?"
"Don't worry," Magnus quickly adds, placing a calming hand on Malenia's shoulder. "I've already addressed the matter. They've been thoroughly reprimanded."
The girls offer shy, apologetic smiles to their mother, who regards them with a cold stare for a moment before her expression softens slightly.
"We'll discuss this later," Malenia says, her tone making it clear that the conversation is far from over.
Godwyn, seeking to change the subject, turns to Radahn. His eyes catch on a strange, purple stain on Radahn's armor. "Brother, what's that on your armor? It looks... unusual."
Radahn's booming laugh echoes across the docks. "Ah, that! A little souvenir from our adventure in Sellia. Malenia and I had the pleasure of facing an Astel."
"An Astel?" Godwyn's eyes widen in surprise. "In Sellia?"
Malenia nods, a hint of pride in her voice. "Indeed. It seems the stars had aligned to bring one of those cosmic horrors to Caelid. Quite the challenge, but nothing Radahn and I couldn't handle together."
"You should have seen them," one of the Sellian sorcerers chimes in, awe evident in his voice. "Lady Malenia's speed combined with Lord Radahn's raw power... it was a sight to behold."
Radahn grins, clapping a massive hand on Malenia's shoulder. "We make quite the team, sister."
Malenia winces slightly at the impact but returns the smile. "That we do, brother."
In the depths of Miquella's workshop, the air is thick with the scent of ancient tomes and arcane energies. Miquella, his child-like form belying the intensity of his focus, pores over a series of complex diagrams and spell formulas. Beside him, Morana stands, observing his work.
"There must be a way," Miquella mutters, frustration evident in his voice. "Every path we've tried has led to a dead end."
Morana nods solemnly, her eyes distant as if looking through time itself. "Many of the old ways have been lost or corrupted. Farum Azula was never meant to be easily reached, even in my time."
Miquella looks up at her, his brilliant mind racing. "But you mentioned a spell, one the beastmen used. Could that be our key?"
"Perhaps," Morana replies, her voice carrying the weight of ages. "The beastmen had a ritual, performed at their most sacred sites. It would transport them directly to Farum Azula. But..."
"But what?" Miquella presses, leaning forward eagerly.
Morana sighs,. "The Bestial Sanctum was the only place in the Lands Between that held the necessary significance. And it has vanished."
Miquella's face falls, but only for a moment. "Vanished? How? When?"
"It's as if it simply... fell away," Morana explains, gesturing vaguely. "In the chaos that has ravaged these lands, many things have been lost. The Sanctum likely plummeted into the seas below."
Miquella's mind races, processing this information. "Are there no other sites that could work? Surely the beastmen had other sacred places."
Morana nods slowly. "There are others, yes. But none that hold quite the same power as the Sanctum. The ritual might work, but it would be... unpredictable. Dangerous."
"At this point, I'm willing to take that risk," Miquella says, determination hardening his childlike features. "We need to reach Farum Azula."
He turns back to his workbench, pulling out fresh parchment. "Tell me everything you know about these other sites. We'll find a way to amplify their power, to make the ritual work."
With a deep breath, he turns back to his work. The secrets of Farum Azula await, and Miquella is determined to unlock them, no matter the cost.
The grand hall of the Haligtree buzzes with the sounds of celebration and the clinking of goblets. The long tables are laden with a feast fit for heroes, a welcome respite after months of hardship and separation. Yet, despite the jovial atmosphere, undercurrents of tension ripple through the gathering.
At one end of the hall, Kristian and his Leyndell Knights sit rigid, their eyes darting suspiciously across the room. Their gazes linger with particular venom on the members of Magnus's Host, scorn etched deeply on their faces.
The doors open, and a hush falls over a section of the hall as Seroch enters, leaning heavily on Elaine for support. His recent injuries are still evident, but there's a determined set to his jaw as he makes his way to their table.
From his seat at the high table, Magnus watches this scene unfold, his golden eyes thoughtful. He turns slightly, catching the attention of Eleanora and Gwen, and beckons them over with a subtle gesture.
As the two women make their way towards Magnus, Eleanora leans in close to Gwen, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Perhaps our lord is finally going to confess his undying love for you, Gwen," she teases in a stage whisper.
Gwen's cheeks flush slightly, but her voice is stern. "Oh, do shut up, Eleanora. This is hardly the time for your jests."
They arrive before Magnus, both bowing their heads slightly in respect.
"My lord," Gwen says, "you called for us?"
Magnus's expression is grave as he looks at his trusted archangels. "I have a question for you both," he begins, his voice low. "Did either of you know that Seroch had a brother?"
Eleanora and Gwen exchange surprised glances, both shaking their heads.
"No, my lord," Eleanora replies, her usual playful demeanor subdued. "He's never mentioned any family to me."
Gwen nods in agreement. "This is the first I'm hearing of it as well. May I ask why you're inquiring about this?"
Magnus sighs, briefly recounting the incident in the infirmary. As he speaks, all three of them turn their gaze towards Seroch, who sits quietly at his table, Elaine hovering protectively nearby.
"I see," Gwen says softly, her eyes filled with concern. "No wonder there's been such tension between him and the Leyndell Knights."
Magnus nods solemnly. "Indeed. I need you both to keep a close eye on him. Ensure he's well, both physically and... emotionally. This revelation has clearly reopened old wounds."
Eleanora's usual smile returns, though it's tinged with determination. "You can count on us, my lord. We'll look after our own."
"Thank you," Magnus says, his voice warm with gratitude. "Your discretion in this matter is appreciated. We can't afford further division in our ranks, not with the challenges that lie ahead."
As Gwen and Eleanora bow and take their leave, Magnus's gaze sweeps across the hall once more. The empty seats where Miquella and Messmer should be sitting seem to weigh heavily on him.
As Magnus turns back to the high table, Malenia's voice cuts through his thoughts. Her tone is a mixture of frustration and affection as she says, "I swear, if Miquella doesn't stop working soon, I'll drag him in here myself."
Magnus chuckles, his golden eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm surprised he hasn't come to greet you yet. It's not like him to miss such an important reunion."
Maeve, seated on Magnus's other side, leans forward with a smirk. "You know, dear sister, you could have gone to see him yourself. The workshop isn't exactly hidden."
Malenia's eyes narrow playfully. "And miss this delightful feast? Besides, he's the one who's been holed up in there for who knows how long."
"Oh, so now you're too important to seek out your own brother?" Maeve quips, her red eyes gleaming with mischief.
"That's not what I meant and you know it," Malenia retorts, but there's no real heat in her words.
Their light-hearted bickering is suddenly interrupted by a thunderous shout from across the hall. All eyes turn to see Radahn, the mighty Starscourge, red-faced and sputtering, having apparently fallen victim to an unexpectedly spicy dish.
The girls, Magnus and Malenia's daughters, stand around their massive uncle, their laughter ringing out across the hall. Mary attempts to offer him a goblet of water, while Maureen dramatically fans his face with a napkin. Amy, usually so quiet, is giggling uncontrollably, and Millicent is poking Radahn's arm, asking if he's okay between fits of laughter. Polyanna, ever the jester, is mimicking Radahn's expression to the delight of nearby guests.
"Well," Maeve chuckles, "it seems even the mightiest warriors have their weaknesses."
Malenia shakes her head, a fond smile playing on her lips as she watches her daughters interact with their uncle. Then, unexpectedly, she turns back to Maeve, her expression softening.
"Maeve," she begins, her voice unusually gentle, "I wanted to thank you."
Maeve blinks, caught off guard. "For what?"
"For taking care of the girls while I was away," Malenia continues. "I know they can be a handful, and while I don't entirely approve of your... methods, I appreciate that you looked after them."
Both Magnus and Maeve stare at Malenia, clearly shocked by this uncharacteristic display of gratitude. Magnus's eyebrows rise nearly to his hairline, while Maeve's usual smirk falters, replaced by a look of genuine surprise.
"I... well," Maeve stammers, clearly unsure how to respond to this sudden sincerity. "They're good kids. A bit too goody-two-shoes for my taste, but I suppose that's your influence."
Magnus, recovering from his surprise, smiles warmly at both his sisters. "It's good to see you two getting along. Perhaps there's hope for family harmony after all."
Malenia rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of a smile on her face. "Don't push it. I still haven't forgotten about the 'monster hunting' incident."
As the three siblings share a moment of unexpected warmth, the feast continues around them. The laughter from Radahn's table, the murmur of conversations, and the clinking of goblets create a tapestry of sound that fills the grand hall. For a moment, at least, the worries of the outside world seem distant, overshadowed by the simple joy of family and reunion.
The Leyndell Knights' table is a hub of tense conversation, with Kristian at its center, speaking in low tones with Galahad and a few others. Their discussion is interrupted by the approach of a woman in the distinctive armor of Magnus's Host.
Despite her age, there's an undeniable grace and beauty about her. Her presence causes an immediate stir among the younger knights, some half-rising from their seats, hands instinctively moving towards their weapons.
Kristian's eyes narrow dangerously, his jaw clenching at the sight of a Host member approaching their table. But before he can react, Galahad steps forward, raising a hand to stay his comrades.
As the woman draws closer, Galahad's stern expression slowly transforms into one of disbelief and then joy. The woman opens her arms wide, calling out, "Galahad!"
Galahad's breath catches in his throat. "Sybil!" he exclaims, his voice thick with emotion.
The two embrace tightly, laughing and speaking over each other in their excitement. The younger knights exchange bewildered glances, clearly confused by this unexpected turn of events.
However, among the older knights - the few veterans who remember the days before the Shattering and its earliest chaos - recognition dawns. They begin to rise, moving to join in the joyous reunion.
After a moment, Galahad turns to Kristian, his arm still around Sybil's shoulders. "Kristian, allow me to introduce Sybil. She once served in the capital as a protector of the Erdtree, one of our finest Leyndell Knights."
Kristian's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "A Leyndell Knight? But you wear the armor of the Host..."
Sybil nods, her expression a mixture of pride and melancholy. "Indeed, my path has been a long and winding one," she begins. "When the Frenzied Flame consumed our beloved capital, I was among those who aided Queen Marika and Lord Radagon in their escape."
The table falls silent, all eyes fixed on Sybil as she continues her tale.
"I helped them find sanctuary, guarding them as they raised the young demigods Maeve and Magnus. When the war against the Frenzied Flame began, I fought alongside them." Her voice softens. "After Magnus's... death, I joined Lady Maeve's army. And now, with his return, I proudly serve in Magnus's Host."
Kristian listens intently, his earlier hostility fading into a mix of respect and curiosity. "You've seen much, Lady Sybil. Your loyalty to the royal family is commendable."
Sybil smiles, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "We all serve in our own ways, Commander Kristian. The Lands Between have changed, but our duty remains - to protect and preserve what we hold dear."
The Leyndell Knights gather closer, their earlier hostility forgotten as they listen intently to Sybil's tales. Her words paint a vivid picture of a tumultuous time, of desperate flights and hidden strongholds.
"In those early days," Sybil recounts, her eyes distant with memory, "we were constantly on the move. Every shadow seemed to hide an agent of the Frenzied Flame. It wasn't until we found a more permanent sanctuary in the Shaded Castle."
The knights lean in, captivated by her stories of battles fought and won since Magnus's return. Even Kristian, despite his lingering wariness, finds himself drawn into her narrative.
However, some of the younger knights can't contain their skepticism. One of them, barely more than a squire, speaks up. "But Lady Sybil, how can you serve alongside former Gelmir Knights? After everything they've done?"
Sybil pauses, her expression growing solemn. "I remember well the atrocities of the Battle of Mt. Gelmir," she says softly, her voice tinged with old pain. "Those memories will never fade. But I've served with these men for some time now, and I can tell you with certainty - they are not the men we thought they were."
She looks around the table, meeting each knight's gaze in turn. "They are honorable warriors who never wished to commit the blasphemous acts that Lord Rykard demanded. Many of them were as much victims of his madness as we were its enemies."
Kristian, his brow furrowed, leans forward. "What about Seroch?" he asks, unable to keep the edge from his voice. "He killed many of our brothers."
To everyone's surprise, Sybil laughs, though there's a hint of sadness in it. "Seroch? Out of all of them, especially Seroch. Did you know he was the one who convinced the Gelmir Knights to rise up against Rykard? Not once, but twice."
The knights exchange shocked glances as Sybil continues. "He even tried to challenge the Lord of Blasphemy himself. It was a fool's errand, of course, but it speaks to his honor and courage."
Kristian sits back, clearly struggling to reconcile this new information with his long-held beliefs. "I... I had no idea," he admits reluctantly.
Sybil reaches out, placing a gentle hand on Kristian's arm. "The world isn't as simple as we sometimes wish it to be, Commander. Our enemies of yesterday may be our staunchest allies today. The Host is proof of that."
As her words sink in, a thoughtful silence falls over the table. The knights, both young and old, find themselves reevaluating their perceptions. The feast continues around them, but at this table, something has shifted. Old prejudices begin to crumble, replaced by the first tentative seeds of understanding and respect.
Sybil's presence serves as a living bridge between the past and present, between the Leyndell Knights and the Host. As the night wears on, more stories are shared, more questions asked and answered. Slowly but surely, the barriers between these once-divided groups begin to weaken, paving the way for a potentially united future in the face of the challenges that lie ahead.
Godwyn watches the scene at the Leyndell Knights' table with a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The tension that had been palpable earlier seems to have dissipated, replaced by animated conversation and even laughter.
Lansseax leans in close, her voice low and warm. "You were wise to ask Sybil to speak with them, my lord. It seems to be working better than we could have hoped."
Godwyn nods, his eyes still on the knights. "Indeed. Sometimes the best way to bridge divides is through shared history. Sybil is living proof that loyalty and honor can take many forms."
Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of the hall's doors opening. Miquella strides in. Godwyn's gaze immediately flicks to Malenia, and he can't suppress a chuckle at the sight of her glaring daggers at her twin.
As Miquella approaches the head of the table, Godwyn calls out, his voice tinged with amusement, "Ah, the prodigal brother returns! We were beginning to think you'd forgotten about us mere mortals down here."
Miquella takes his seat beside Malenia, pointedly ignoring her piercing stare. In an obvious attempt to change the subject, he glances over at Radahn, who is still surrounded by the girls, looking somewhat worse for wear.
"What in the name of the Erdtree happened to our dear brother?" Miquella asks, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
Godwyn laughs heartily. "It seems our mighty Radahn met his match in a particularly spicy dish. The girls have been... 'helping' him recover."
Malenia, still glaring at Miquella, speaks through gritted teeth. "Perhaps if you'd joined us earlier, brother, you'd have witnessed this momentous defeat yourself."
Miquella winces slightly at her tone but maintains his composure. "My apologies, sister. I was caught up in some rather important research. But I'm here now, aren't I?"
Godwyn, sensing the tension between the twins, decides to intervene. "Speaking of research, Miquella, have you made any progress? I'm sure we'd all be interested to hear about it."
As Miquella finishes explaining his and Morana's theory, a tense silence falls over the table. Maeve is the first to break it, her crimson eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Can we really trust her?" she asks, her voice laced with skepticism. "This Morana has been nothing but a mystery since she appeared."
Miquella bristles at the question, his childlike features hardening with determination. "Morana has been incredibly helpful. And need I remind you, she's our grandmother. She has as much stake in this as any of us."
Malenia, surprisingly, sides with Maeve on this matter. "Blood ties don't always guarantee loyalty, brother," she says, her voice cool. "Let's not forget that she once tried to kill our mother out of jealousy when Marika became the new vessel for the Elden Ring."
Miquella, feeling outnumbered, turns to Magnus. "What do you think, brother? Surely you can see the potential in this plan. You've spent time with Morana as well."
Magnus shifts uncomfortably in his seat, clearly torn. "I've tried to bond with her, it's true," he begins cautiously. "But I can't shake this feeling of unease. There's still so much we don't know about her motivations."
Just as the debate seems to be reaching a stalemate, Lansseax clears her throat, drawing everyone's attention.
"If I may," she says, her silver hair catching the light as she leans forward. "While I share your concerns about Morana, I believe there might be some merit to this plan."
All eyes turn to her, intrigued by this unexpected support.
"During my youth in Farum Azula," Lansseax continues, "I didn't spend much time with the beastmen. They kept to themselves mostly. But there were rumors, whispers really, about their ability to travel between realms through means similar to what Miquella is describing."
Godwyn leans in, his interest piqued. "You never mentioned this before, Lansseax. What else do you remember about these rumors?"
Lansseax furrows her brow, trying to recall long-buried memories. "It was said that they had sacred sites, places of power where the veil between worlds was thin. They would perform rituals there, calling upon ancient magics to traverse great distances in the blink of an eye."
Miquella's eyes light up with excitement. "That's exactly what Morana was describing! Don't you see? This could be our key to reaching Farum Azula!"
Maeve, however, remains unconvinced. "Even if this method works, who's to say what we'll find there? Or if we'll be able to return?"
Miquella leans forward, his voice filled with passion as he addresses his siblings. "Think about it. Magnus's vision showed him and Godwyn in Farum Azula. That can't be a coincidence. And we all know the legends about Farum Azula's connection to time manipulation. Not to mention, Placidusax, our grandmother's former consort, rests there. It's all connected!"
His eyes gleam with excitement as he continues, "This could be the key to solving the influence of the outer gods, something I've been working towards for so long. And perhaps... perhaps it even holds the secret to vanquishing the Frenzied Flame once and for all."
A heavy silence falls over the table as everyone absorbs Miquella's words. The possibility is tantalizing, yet fraught with uncertainty. Malenia and Maeve exchange worried glances, while Godwyn strokes his chin thoughtfully.
Suddenly, Radahn's deep voice cuts through the tension. Having finally recovered from his culinary misadventure, he poses a question that gives everyone pause.
"Brother," he rumbles, "if what you say is true, why weren't you in Magnus's vision as well? Surely, given your expertise and dedication to this research, you would have traveled to Farum Azula alongside them."
Miquella opens his mouth to respond, then closes it again, caught off guard by the question. After a moment, he argues, "Perhaps we were separated. The journey could be perilous, after all."
But before he can elaborate further, Magnus shakes his head, his golden eyes filled with certainty. "No, Miquella. I can sense... feel what's happening in these visions. It's hard to explain, but I know with absolute certainty that you're not present in Farum Azula."
This revelation sends a ripple of unease through the gathered siblings. Malenia reaches out to touch Miquella's hand, her earlier anger forgotten in the face of this troubling information.
"What could it mean?" Godwyn wonders aloud, voicing the question on everyone's mind.
Maeve, ever practical, suggests, "Perhaps Miquella's role lies elsewhere. Not every battle is fought on the same front."
Lansseax nods in agreement. "The dragons have many legends about the nature of fate and visions. Sometimes, what we see is not the full picture."
Miquella, visibly shaken by this turn in the conversation, tries to rally. "Regardless of my presence or absence in the vision, the importance of Farum Azula remains. We can't ignore this potential breakthrough."
Maeve questions Miquella, asking if he has any idea where any sacred bestial grounds are in the Lands Between, given that the Bestial Sanctum in Caelid is gone. Miquella pauses and sighs, admitting he does not know of any other place, nor does Morana. Lansseax also confirms that she has no knowledge of any other suitable locations.
Suddenly, Messmer's voice cuts through the conversation, startling everyone. "If only Melina were still with us. She would have been able to guide us directly to Farum Azula."
The siblings turn, surprised by Messmer's sudden appearance. Magnus raises an eyebrow. "Messmer, how long have you been standing there?"
Ignoring the question, Messmer continues, his golden eyes intense. "Melina's ability to traverse realms would have been invaluable in this situation."
Godwyn nods solemnly. "Indeed. It's a shame we lost her in the fight against the Lord of Frenzied Flame. Her power could have changed everything."
Malenia leans forward, curiosity piqued. "Messmer, do you know anything more about how Melina's power worked? Anything that might help us replicate it or find another way?"
Messmer shakes his head slowly. "I'm afraid not. Melina's abilities were unique. Without her, we'll need to find another path."
The table falls silent as they contemplate this reminder of their lost sister and the power she possessed. Miquella, his earlier enthusiasm dampened, speaks up. "Then we're back where we started. We need to find another way to reach Farum Azula."
Miquella turns to Lansseax, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "Lansseax, couldn't you simply fly us there? Your dragon form should be capable of such a journey, shouldn't it?"
Lansseax's expression falls, and she shakes her head with a sigh. "I wish it were that simple, Miquella. Normally, I could have made the journey. But things have changed."
The others lean in, listening intently as Lansseax continues, "My brother attempted to return home long ago. He told me that the storms and magical barriers surrounding Farum Azula have become more turbulent, more dangerous. Many dragons now circle the floating city endlessly, unable to land or gain entry. It's as if the very air around it has become hostile to unwanted visitors."
A heavy silence falls over the table as they absorb this information. Malenia places a comforting hand on Lansseax's arm.
After a moment, Godwyn speaks up, his voice measured and thoughtful. "Perhaps we're rushing into this. We should consider waiting before making any decisions."
He turns to Miquella, "Brother, why don't we give you more time to research and find a viable solution? Your work has already brought us this far. With a little more time, you might uncover the key we need."
Godwyn then looks to Magnus, "And let's not forget the possibility of another vision coming to you, brother. Or perhaps one of those mysterious feathers will appear to guide our way."
Magnus nods slowly, considering Godwyn's words. "You may be right. Rushing headlong into this could be dangerous. We need to be certain of our path before we attempt such a journey."
Maeve, surprisingly, agrees. "I'm with Godwyn on this. Let's not risk everything on a half-formed plan. We've come too far to stumble now."
Miquella seems about to protest, but then reluctantly nods. "Very well. I'll continue my research. But we can't afford to wait too long. Every day we delay gives our enemies more time to prepare."
As the siblings continue their discussion, their attention is suddenly drawn to movement across the hall. Kristian, Sybil, Galahad, and a few other Leyndell Knights rise from their table and make their way towards Seroch's group.
Gwen and Eleanora, ever vigilant, immediately stand up, ready to intervene if necessary. Seroch and Elaine, noticing the approaching group, also rise to their feet, their postures tense but not overtly hostile.
Godwyn begins to move, intending to intercept the groups before any conflict can arise. "I should put a stop to this before—"
Magnus raises a hand, gesturing for his brother to wait. "Hold on, Godwyn. Let's see how this plays out."
Godwyn looks at Magnus skeptically. "Are you sure that's wise? We can't afford another fight breaking out."
Magnus nods, his golden eyes focused on the scene unfolding before them. "I don't sense any hostility from them. There's a... calmness in the air. Let's give them a chance."
As they watch, Kristian steps forward, his posture notably less rigid than before. He clears his throat, addressing Seroch directly.
"Seroch," Kristian begins, his voice steady, "Sybil has told us about your actions during the uprising against Rykard. We... we had no idea."
Seroch's eyebrows raise slightly, clearly surprised by this opening.
Kristian continues, his voice growing softer, "I want to apologize. For slaying your brother during the Battle of Mt. Gelmir. For judging you and your men. I didn't know..."
A tense silence falls over the group. Seroch stands still for a moment, processing Kristian's words. Then, to everyone's surprise, he lets out a small, sad chuckle.
"It was war, Kristian," Seroch says, his voice gruff but not unkind. "Nothing personal about it. We were both fighting on the wrong sides, when you think about it. Me under a blasphemous lord, and you under a tyrannical order, led by an even more tyrannical Omen king."
Kristian snickers at that, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "You're not wrong there. When Morgott took over Leyndell, he was indeed quite the tyrant. Made us long for the good old days of Godwyn's rule I heard so much about."
Galahad steps forward, offering his hand to Seroch. "Perhaps it's time we put the past behind us. We've all lost too much to keep holding onto old grudges."
Seroch hesitates for a moment, then grasps Galahad's hand firmly. "Agreed. We have bigger battles ahead of us now."
As the two groups begin to mingle, the atmosphere in the hall noticeably lightens. Gwen and Eleanora relax their stances, exchanging relieved glances.
Back at the high table, Godwyn turns to Magnus, a look of amazement on his face.
As the feast winds down, Messmer begins to make his way out of the hall. He's stopped by Radahn's massive form blocking his path.
"Messmer," Radahn's deep voice rumbles, concern evident in his tone. "What troubles you, brother? You've been unusually quiet, even for you."
Messmer hesitates, his golden eyes flickering with an inner conflict. After a moment, he sighs. "It's Melina," he admits quietly. "I can't help but feel... responsible for her fate. In a way, it was my actions that led to her confrontation with the Lord of Frenzied Flame."
Radahn nods solemnly, understanding the weight of Messmer's words. "I can't argue against that," he says gently. "But lingering on the past won't change what's happened. We must look forward."
Messmer nods, though the guilt still clouds his features. Radahn, sensing his brother's need for distraction, changes the subject.
"I've been considering another journey to Liurnia," Radahn says. "To see my mother Rennala, and Aunt Rellana. I hope to convince them to move their forces to the Haligtree." He pauses, then adds with a knowing look, "I thought you might like to join me. I know you'd appreciate the chance to see Rellana again."
At the mention of Rellana, Messmer's expression softens slightly. "That... would be agreeable," he says, a hint of warmth creeping into his voice.
"Excellent," Radahn grins, clapping Messmer on the shoulder. "It'll be good to have you along."
Messmer tilts his head, curiosity piqued. "How do you intend to convince your mother to abandon her home? She's been quite... adamant about staying in the past."
Radahn's grin falters slightly. "Truthfully? I have no idea," he admits with a chuckle. "But I don't like her being so far away. I've abandoned her once before... I won't let another horrible fate befall her if I can help it."
Messmer nods, understanding the determination in Radahn's voice. "Very well. When do we leave?"
"Soon," Radahn replies. "We'll need to make preparations. And perhaps consult with the others."
As they begin to discuss the details of their upcoming journey, the atmosphere around them lightens. The prospect of the trip seems to have lifted some of the weight from Messmer's shoulders, giving him a new focus beyond his guilt.
Maeve slides into the seat next to Miquella. Miquella looks up, bracing himself for what he assumes will be a contentious conversation. To his surprise, Maeve's voice is soft as she speaks.
"They look happy together, don't they?" she says, nodding towards Magnus and Malenia.
Miquella follows her gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips. "They do seem made for each other," he agrees. "It's good to see them finding joy again after... after Rhaegon."
Maeve nods, her expression uncharacteristically wistful. "You know, I always thought it would be Magnus and me against the world."
Miquella chuckles softly. "I know that feeling. When Malenia and I left the Golden Order, it felt like us against everyone else. At least until we formed the Haligtree."
As they watch Magnus and Malenia laughing with their soldiers, Maeve's smile fades slightly. "I don't think I'll ever have something like that," she says quietly.
Miquella turns to her, surprised. "Why not? You're beautiful, smart, strong. Any person would be lucky to have you."
Maeve raises an eyebrow, a hint of her usual mischief returning. "Oh? You think I'm beautiful, dear brother?"
Miquella stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I... well, objectively speaking, of course. I mean..."
Maeve's laughter cuts him off, but it's tinged with sadness. "It's because, deep down, I'll always be a monster," she says. "No matter how many times Magnus brings out the good in me, that darkness I was born with... it's always there."
Miquella's expression softens, his eyes meeting hers. "You're not a monster, Maeve. You've fought against that darkness, chosen a different path. That counts for something."
Maeve looks away, unconvinced. Miquella continues, "Besides, we all have our burdens to bear. My own curse... it's not just about being trapped in this body. I'm doomed to never complete my work, to always fall short of my goals."
Maeve starts to protest, "But you've created a wonderful kingdom, the Haligtree—"
Miquella shakes his head, cutting her off gently. "It was meant to be so much more, Maeve. For centuries, it's remained stagnant, never growing to its full potential."
They sit in silence for a moment, both lost in thought. Then Maeve speaks, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Do you ever wonder if we're just... broken? Too damaged to ever truly connect with others?"
Miquella reaches out, placing his small hand over Maeve's. The touch sends an unexpected warmth through both of them. "Maybe," he says softly, "or maybe we just haven't found the right person who understands us yet."
Maeve looks at him, a genuine smile slowly spreading across her face. Their eyes lock, and for a moment, there's a spark of something neither of them quite understands.
"When did you get so wise, big brother?" Maeve asks, her voice slightly husky.
Miquella grins back, his hand still on hers. "I've had a few centuries to work on it. Though I'm still not sure I've got it quite right."
Maeve and Miquella turn their attention back to Magnus and Malenia, now surrounded by their daughters. The girls' voices rise in a cacophony of accusations and protests, each trying to outdo the other.
"I did not take your hairpin, Mary!" Maureen insists. "Well, someone did, and it wasn't Amy!" Mary retorts. Millicent sighs dramatically. "Can we please talk about something other than hairpins?" "Yeah," Polyanna chimes in, "like how Amy definitely ate the last sweet roll!" "No I did not!" Amy stammers, trying to digest the evidence.
Maeve and Miquella can't help but laugh at the scene. Their mirth, however, is tinged with a bittersweet edge.
Miquella's voice grows soft. "I still feel such pain for Malenia, losing Rhaegon. No parent should have to endure that."
Maeve nods, her crimson eyes clouding with empathy. "I feel the same. Watching Magnus lose something so precious... it breaks my heart."
Miquella tightens his grip on Maeve's hand, the gesture both comforting and intimate. "We're the older twins, you and I," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're older than Magnus, I'm older than Malenia. We always want to protect them, but..."
"But we never seem able to," Maeve finishes, her voice catching slightly.
She struggles to continue, emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "I failed him so many times. I couldn't shield him from the horrors of war when we were young. I couldn't prevent his death, or help him when he was resurrected without his memories, alone in the world. And now..."
Miquella sighs heavily. "I understand all too well. I failed to keep Malenia safe from the Scarlet Rot. For all my research, all my efforts, I couldn't spare her that suffering."
Maeve lets out a sad, hollow laugh. "We're quite the pair, aren't we? Both doomed to fail the person we care about most."
Miquella looks at her, his childlike features etched with a wisdom far beyond his apparent years. "Perhaps," he says gently, "but we keep trying. That has to count for something, doesn't it?"
Maeve meets his gaze, surprised by the intensity she finds there. For a moment, neither speaks, the air between them charged with an unfamiliar tension.
As they continue to sit together, hands still intertwined, both Maeve and Miquella find themselves reevaluating not just their relationships with their twins, but with each other as well.
Maeve smiles at Miquella, a warmth in her expression that surprises even her. "You know, I think I'm starting to understand why you're Magnus's favorite brother."
Miquella smirks, "yes he told me I was not long ago."
Maeve laughs, the sound lighter than usual. "Oh yes, he told me so himself. Apparently, you two had quite the heart-to-heart over drinks while everyone else was away."
"Did we?" Miquella chuckles, shaking his head. "I must have broken out my secret brew that night. It tends to make memories a bit... hazy."
Maeve raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Secret brew? I'm surprised you've used that brilliant mind of yours for such... recreational pursuits."
Miquella grins mischievously. "Even geniuses need to unwind sometimes. You're welcome to come test it yourself sometime, if you're interested. I can take you to my chambers."
Maeve's lips curl into a smug smile, but there's a glint of something more in her eyes as she looks at Miquella. "My, my... are you flirting with me,Miquella?"
Miquella's cheeks flush instantly, and he starts to stammer. "I... no, that's not... I didn't mean to imply..."
Maeve can't help but find his flustered state amusing. She places a finger on his lips, silencing him. "Calm down, Miquella. I'm only teasing." She stands up, offering her hand to him. "Now, why don't you come show me this famous brew of yours? I'm suddenly feeling very... curious."
Miquella hesitates for a moment, then takes her hand, allowing her to guide him out of the hall. As they leave, a few curious glances follow them, but most are too caught up in their own conversations to notice.
As they walk through the corridors of the Haligtree, Maeve can't help but feel a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. This new dynamic with Miquella is unexpected, but not unwelcome. For his part, Miquella tries to maintain his composure, but the warmth of Maeve's hand in his and the prospect of spending more time alone with her sends his usually ordered thoughts into a whirl.
As the evening settles over the Haligtree, Malenia stands before her mirror in her private chambers. Her fingers trace the contours of her face, still marveling at the absence of the scarlet rot that had defined her for so long. Nearly a year has passed, yet the wonder of her transformation hasn't faded.
Her gaze drifts to her prosthetics, a mix of emotions playing across her features. There's a flicker of sadness that her missing limbs didn't regenerate, but it's overshadowed by gratitude for the healing she did experience. The golden appendages gleam in the soft light, a testament to both her past struggles and her enduring strength.
Malenia's eyes are drawn to a longsword mounted on the wall. It's not just any weapon, but one that belonged to her master - the one who guided her in her youth, who prepared her to fight against the rot and cope with its ravages. This blade represents more than just steel; it embodies the forging of her spirit into the greatest swordsman who ever lived. A small smile tugs at her lips as she regards this cherished possession.
Finally, her gaze settles on the most precious sight in the room - Magnus. He lies on their bed, his majestic white wings spread out behind him like a divine tapestry. The sight of him fills her with a warmth that still surprises her after all this time.
Malenia disrobes and gently climbs into bed beside him. As she nestles into his arms, seeking the comfort of his embrace, her hand unconsciously drifts to her stomach. A bittersweet pang hits her as she remembers the feeling of carrying a child.
The thought makes her chuckle softly. Before Magnus entered her life, the idea of having children - of having someone she could love so deeply - seemed an impossibility. Now, here she is, surrounded by love and family in a way she never dared to dream.
"What's amusing you?" Magnus murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.
Malenia turns in his arms, facing him. "Just thinking about how life can surprise you," she whispers back, tracing the line of his jaw with her finger. "If someone had told me years ago that I'd be here, like this... I would have thought them mad."
Magnus smiles, pulling her closer. "And yet, here we are."
As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, Malenia feels a profound sense of peace. Despite the challenges they face, despite the losses they've endured, this moment - this love - makes it all worthwhile. With these thoughts swirling in her mind, she slowly drifts off to sleep, safe and content in the arms of her angel.
Chapter 90: The Maiden Notes: Check out the discord server: /k9rQSfsD
Also please follow or like my socials, where I will soon be posting my original /PDRobinson0711?t=dbX-wd0lVp8cVVDHTDvpcw =09
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(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text As the morning light filters through the windows, Magnus stirs, his hand instinctively reaching for Malenia. Finding her side of the bed empty, he smiles to himself. Of course, she's already up.
He rises, stretching his wings as he makes his way to the balcony. The cool morning air greets him as he looks down at the courtyard below. There, he sees Malenia, her red hair gleaming in the sunlight, surrounded by their daughters. Even from this height, he can hear the girls' complaints.
"But Mother, it's so early," Maureen whines. "My arms feel like lead," Amy mutters. "Can't we have breakfast first?" Polyanna chimes in.
Malenia's voice cuts through their protests, firm but not unkind. "The enemy won't wait for you to have breakfast. Now, again!"
A knock at the door interrupts Magnus's amusement. "Enter," he calls out.
Gwen steps in, bowing slightly. "My lord, Godwyn has requested your presence in the war room. He wishes to discuss matters with you, your siblings, and the other high commanders."
Magnus nods, "Thank you, Gwen. I'll be there shortly."
He leans over the balcony, calling down to Malenia. "Love, we're needed in the war room. Godwyn's called a meeting."
Malenia looks up, shielding her eyes from the sun. She nods in acknowledgment.
The girls' faces light up at this news. Mary, ever the spokesperson, calls out, "Father, can we come too? We never get to be part of the big decisions!"
Magnus pauses, considering. Then, to everyone's surprise, he nods. "Yes, you can come."
The girls exchange shocked glances, barely believing their luck.
"Really?" Millicent asks, her eyes wide.
Magnus's voice turns serious. "One day, you may need to make harsh decisions as leaders. Now is as good a time as any to start learning."
Malenia raises an eyebrow at Magnus, a mix of surprise and approval in her expression. "Well then, girls," she says, turning to their daughters, "it seems your training isn't over for the day. Let's go."
Together, they head towards the war room, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. As they walk, Magnus can hear the excited chatter of his daughters echoing through the halls, a reminder of the future they're all fighting to protect.
The war room is a hive of activity as the most influential figures in the Lands Between gather. The demigod siblings stand together, their presence commanding attention: Magnus with his majestic wings, Malenia in her golden prosthetics, Godwyn exuding an air of leadership, Miquella's small form belying his vast intellect, Maeve with her crimson eyes scanning the room, Radahn towering over all, and Messmer lurking in the shadows. Their grandmother, Morana, stands nearby, her ancient wisdom palpable.
Legendary figures dot the room: Loretta, her armor gleaming; Commander Gaius, standing tall and proud; Siluria and Devonia, the Crucible Knights, their presence a reminder of ancient power; and Lansseax, her dragon heritage evident in her otherworldly grace.
The seven Archangels form a formidable group, with Gwen and Eleanora at the forefront, flanked by their five compatriots. Nearby, looking both excited and nervous, stand Magnus and Malenia's daughters: Mary, Maureen, Amy, Millicent, and Polyanna, their presence a testament to the future they're all fighting for.
Various commanders represent their respective forces: Elaine, her Cleanrot armor shining; Kristian, standing proudly for the Leyndell Knights; and Seroch, representing the Host, his posture tense but determined.
Godwyn takes his place at the head of the table, spreading out maps of both the former Leyndell and the entire Lands Between. His voice carries authority as he addresses the gathering.
"Thank you all for coming," he begins. "I've called this meeting to discuss our strategy moving forward, both for potential assaults and our defense against the Frenzied Flame."
As the discussion unfolds, the issue of reaching Leyndell's isolated landmass is quickly brought up. Godwyn nods, acknowledging the challenge.
"You're right," he says. "Our access is limited to ships, and the Frenzied Flame's influence makes approach treacherous. Given these constraints, I believe we should focus on a defensive strategy. We need to find a way to lure the Frenzied Flame to us."
Kristian, the Leyndell commander, steps forward. "How do you propose we do that, my lord?"
Magnus takes this moment to speak, his golden eyes meeting Kristian's. "Nine months ago, the Frenzied Flame took control of what remained of the Elden Lord, Godfrey. It used him to attack the Haligtree."
A murmur ripples through the room at this revelation. Kristian's eyes widen in shock. "Godfrey? But... we had no idea."
Malenia continues, her voice steady. "Since then, we've faced several minor attacks. We can sense the Frenzied Flame's influence growing, moving."
This news sends a shockwave through the Leyndell Knights present. The revelation about Godfrey and the attacks they were unaware of clearly unsettles them.
Godwyn raises a hand, calling for calm. "This is why unity is more important than ever. We must be prepared for whatever comes next."
As the discussion continues, the realization dawns that while the Haligtree and Ephael offer significant defensive advantages, they're also vulnerable to the Frenzied Flame's destructive power.
Messmer, his voice low and thoughtful, poses a question to the group. "Where else could we make our stand? The Lands Between are in ruins. Few well-fortified locations remain."
Magnus and Maeve exchange a glance, their shared history evident in their eyes. Magnus speaks up, "In our youth, when we first fought against the Frenzied Flame, the Shaded Castle in Altus proved to be our strongest holdout."
Maeve nods in agreement, but before she can add to this, Radahn's deep voice cuts through the conversation.
"Perhaps instead of one defensive position, we should consider two," he suggests, his massive form leaning over the map.
Godwyn's interest is piqued. "Elaborate, brother."
Radahn's finger traces a path to Mt. Gelmir. "Maeve's Twilight Fortress on Mt. Gelmir was once the ultimate defense against ground attacks. The enemy would have to scale the mountain, navigating bridges, defenses, troops, and traps just to reach the summit. And there, they'd face a mighty fortress."
Maeve's lips curl into a small smile at the praise, but she quickly interjects, "Thank you, Radahn, but let's not forget how you and Magnus somewhat... redecorated it when you killed Rykard. The eruption wasn't exactly kind to the fortress."
Radahn grins, undeterred. "True, but perhaps the lava has cooled by now. With some gravity magic, we could rebuild the Twilight Fortress, make it stronger than ever."
The room buzzes with contemplation of this idea. Godwyn, ever focused, asks, "And the second area?"
Radahn's finger moves across the map to Liurnia. "Should the Twilight Fortress begin to fall, we retreat to Liurnia. Mother and Aunt Rellana can hold the line there. We'd have multiple defensive positions - the Grand Lift of Dectus first, then Caria Manor."
The strategy begins to take shape in everyone's minds. Malenia quickly adds, "The Academy of Raya Lucaria could serve as a final fallback position. Its defenses are formidable."
Miquella, who has been quietly observing, finally speaks up. "This plan has merit, but it relies heavily on our ability to move our forces quickly and efficiently."
The girls, listening intently, exchange excited glances. Mary, the eldest, cautiously raises her hand. "What about the people? The civilians in these areas?"
Her question brings a proud smile to Magnus and Malenia's faces. Godwyn nods approvingly at the young demigoddess. "An excellent point, Mary. We'll need to factor civilian evacuation into our plans."
Magnus beams with pride at Mary's concern for the civilians, his golden eyes shining with approval. He turns to address the group, "Mary's right to be concerned about the innocents. I suggest we evacuate them to Castle Morne in the Weeping Peninsula. It's far enough to be safe from immediate danger, and I have already been preparing it as a fallback location."
Godwyn nods in agreement, "An excellent suggestion, Magnus. Castle Morne would provide adequate protection and is removed enough from our primary defensive positions."
As the group seems to reach a consensus on this point, Morana steps forward, her ancient eyes holding a weight of wisdom and warning. Her voice, though soft, carries throughout the room.
"I must remind you all of the gravity of this fight," she begins, her gaze sweeping across the gathered leaders. "Should any of you fall to the Flame of Frenzy, the consequences would be dire. You would either be consumed by its madness or destroyed utterly - body and spirit. The flames of Frenzy hold such power."
A heavy silence falls over the room as the full implications of Morana's words sink in. The stakes of their struggle become even more apparent.
Maeve, standing slightly apart from the others, seems to shrink into herself at these words. Her crimson eyes cloud with a mix of fear and resignation. Only a select few in the room - her siblings and a couple of others - know of the prophecy that haunts her: the possibility that she might ascend to become the lord of the Frenzied Flame. The thought sends a chill through her, and for a moment, she wishes she had remained in death's embrace, if only to prevent such a fate.
Magnus, attuned to his twin's emotions, notices Maeve's distress. He moves to comfort her, but before he can reach her side, Miquella is there. The small, childlike figure of Miquella places a comforting hand on Maeve's arm, looking up at her with understanding in his eyes.
"We won't let that happen," Miquella whispers to her, his voice carrying a conviction that belies his youthful appearance.
Maeve looks down at Miquella, a genuine smile slowly spreading across her face. The tension in her shoulders eases slightly as she draws strength from his presence.
Magnus observes this exchange with interest, noting the warmth in both Maeve and Miquella's expressions. There's a softness in their interaction that he hasn't seen before, a connection that seems to go beyond their usual sibling dynamic.
Radahn steps forward, his imposing figure drawing all eyes to him. "Godwyn, I wish to return to Liurnia," he announces. "I can inform my Mother of our plans and ensure she's prepared for what may come."
Messmer, usually so quiet, adds, "I will accompany Radahn on this journey."
Godwyn nods, acknowledging their intent. He then turns to address the entire gathering, his voice carrying the weight of their shared burden. "Morana speaks true. This fight could very well be our last. Many of us have cheated death once or twice already, but this time..." he pauses, his eyes scanning the room, "this time, we may not get another chance. We must make this life count."
His words send a ripple of solemn understanding through the assembled group. Even the usually boisterous girls fall silent, the gravity of the situation not lost on them.
"Remember," Godwyn continues, "what we've discussed today is a general strategy. We must remain flexible, ready to adapt as circumstances change." He turns to two of the legendary figures in the room. "Gaius, Loretta, I'm tasking you with leading an expedition to Mt. Gelmir. Assess the mountain's current state and the feasibility of rebuilding the Twilight Fortress."
As Godwyn speaks, Malenia feels a chill run down her spine. His words bring back painful memories - the loss of her unborn son Rhaegon to the Frenzied Flame, the near-loss of Millicent. Her gaze drifts to Magnus, who is now speaking in hushed tones with Maeve.
Malenia knows what they're discussing - the prophecy that hangs over Maeve like a dark cloud. The foretelling that Maeve will become the new lord of Frenzied Flame, driven by grief and rage over Magnus's death at the hands of the previous lord. The very thought makes Malenia's heart clench with fear.
She watches as Magnus places a comforting hand on Maeve's shoulder, his golden eyes filled with determination. Malenia can read his lips as he whispers to his twin, "We'll change this fate, Maeve. I promise you."
Malenia's gaze then shifts to her daughters, each of them listening intently to Godwyn's words. She's struck by how much they've grown, how ready they seem to face the challenges ahead. Pride mingles with fear in her heart - pride in their strength, fear for their safety.
As the meeting draws to a close and people begin to file out of the war room, a hush suddenly falls over the crowd. Maeve's sharp eyes catch sight of something drifting down from the high window.
"Look!" she calls out, her voice cutting through the murmur of conversation.
All eyes turn upward to see a single white feather floating gracefully down, its descent almost ethereal in the charged atmosphere of the room. It lands softly in the center of the war table, atop the maps and plans they've just been discussing. It has been so long since any of them had seen one.
Godwyn turns to Magnus, uncertainty in his eyes. "What should we do, brother?"
Magnus hesitates, his golden eyes fixed on the feather. "I... I'm not sure," he admits. "I've only recently begun to consider that these feathers might be from a future version of myself. But their purpose, their meaning... it's still a mystery."
With a deep breath, Magnus reaches out and touches the feather. The moment his fingers make contact, his body goes rigid, his eyes widening in shock.
Visions assault his mind in rapid succession:
He sees himself and Godwyn in Farum Azula, locked in fierce combat with Morana, their grandmother's face contorted with an emotion he can't quite place.
A sword being presented to him, its blade gleaming with an otherworldly light.
The ruins of Leyndell, the Erdtree a blackened husk as Frenzied Flame erupts from its core, painting the sky in sickly hues.
The landmass of Leyndell itself, impossibly moving, grinding its way back towards the Altus Plateau.
Finally, a scene in dank sewers: himself, Maeve, Godwyn, Malenia, and Messmer, surrounding a woman with one eye glowing with an eerie, gloam-like light.
The visions fade as quickly as they came, leaving Magnus gasping and disoriented. He collapses to his knees, overwhelmed by the onslaught of images.
Malenia and Maeve are at his side in an instant, supporting him as the rest of the room looks on in shock and concern.
"Magnus!" Malenia cries, her voice laced with worry. "What happened? What did you see?"
Miquella pushes through the crowd, his small form belying the authority in his voice. "Give him space! Let him breathe!"
Godwyn kneels beside his brother, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Take your time, Magnus. Tell us what you can."
As Magnus finishes recounting his vision, deliberately omitting the part about fighting Morana, the room falls into a contemplative silence. Suddenly, the white feather on the table begins to move in an unnatural way, floating upwards as if caught in an invisible current.
Before anyone can react, a flurry of movement catches their attention. White feathers from all over the Haligtree - ones they've collected over the years - come flying into the war room as if summoned by an unseen force. They swirl around each other, creating a mesmerizing storm of white in the center of the room.
"What in the name of the Erdtree..." Godwyn mutters, his eyes wide with astonishment.
Maeve instinctively clutches at her own feather - the one that had shown her hope when all she knew was rage, the one that proved Magnus lived. It tugs against her grip, trying to join its brethren in the swirling vortex.
Miquella places a gentle hand on Maeve's arm. "Let it go, sister," he says softly. "I think... I think this might be the culmination of something. That new feather - it could be the last one."
Reluctantly, Maeve releases her grip, and her cherished feather joins the others.
The assembled feathers begin to arrange themselves, forming a distinct shape in the air - a pair of majestic wings. In the center, where a body would normally be, a shimmering portal opens, its edges rippling with an otherworldly energy.
The room falls silent as everyone stares at the portal in a mixture of awe and trepidation.
"What... what is it?" Mary asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Malenia instinctively pulls her daughters closer. "A doorway, it seems. But to where?"
Godwyn steps forward, his hand hovering near the portal's edge. "The question is, do we enter?"
Magnus, still recovering from his vision, stands shakily. "It has to be connected to the feathers, to the future we've been glimpsing. But..."
"But we have no idea what's on the other side," Maeve finishes for him.
The room is divided. Some, like Radahn and Messmer, look ready to charge through immediately. Others, like Miquella and Lansseax, urge caution.
"We can't just ignore this," Gwen speaks up. "It appeared for a reason."
Eleanora nods in agreement. "But we also can't blindly walk into what could be a trap."
As the debate continues, the portal pulses gently, as if waiting patiently for their decision. The feathers continue their gentle rotation, maintaining the wing-like shape around the shimmering gateway.
Miquella, his brow furrowed in concentration, speaks up. "Perhaps... perhaps this is a portal to Farum Azula? Given Magnus's vision, it seems plausible."
Morana, her ancient eyes fixed on the shimmering gateway, offers another possibility. "Or it could be a doorway to those sewers Magnus saw in his vision."
Magnus turns to Godwyn and Miquella, his golden eyes seeking their counsel. "What do you two think? You're our leader," he nods to Godwyn, "and you're the wisest among us," he says to Miquella.
Godwyn strokes his chin thoughtfully. "I'm skeptical by nature, but these feathers have proven invaluable time and time again. We can't ignore this."
Miquella nods in agreement. "I believe Morana might be right about this. It's just... a feeling I have."
Malenia raises an eyebrow. "A feeling? That's not like you, brother."
Magnus turns to his twin. "Maeve, step closer to the portal. Can you feel it?"
Hesitantly, Maeve approaches the shimmering doorway. As she nears it, her eyes widen, and she gasps. "The corruption... I can sense it. The Flames of Frenzy."
The girls, huddled together, look on with a mixture of fear and curiosity. "What does that mean?" Millicent asks, her voice trembling slightly.
Godwyn's face sets in grim determination. "It means the sewers in Magnus's vision were likely those beneath Leyndell."
Gwen steps forward, her voice urgent. "My lords, you can't seriously be considering entering this portal. The danger is too great!"
Elaine and the Crucible Knights, Siluria and Devonia, voice their agreement, pleading with their leaders to reconsider.
However, the demigods remain resolute. Magnus looks at Maeve, Malenia, Messmer, and Godwyn - the five from his vision. They exchange silent nods of understanding.
"We must go," Magnus says firmly. "This could be our chance to change the course of events, to save our world from the Frenzied Flame."
Godwyn turns to Radahn, placing a hand on his massive shoulder. "Brother, I'm entrusting you with leadership in our absence. Protect our people, prepare our defenses. We don't know how long we'll be gone."
Radahn nods solemnly, accepting the responsibility.
Maeve takes one last look at Miquella, their eyes meeting in a moment of unspoken emotion.
With a deep breath, Magnus leads the way, stepping through the shimmering gateway. Maeve follows, then Malenia, Messmer, and finally Godwyn.
As they pass through, the portal begins to shrink, the feathers swirling faster around it. Just before it closes completely, one last white feather floats down, landing gently in Godwyn's outstretched hand.
The moment they step through the portal, the five demigods are assaulted by the putrid stench of the Leyndell sewers. Magnus and Maeve, unused to such foulness, immediately recoil, their faces contorted in disgust.
Magnus, trying to lighten the mood, quips, "By the Erdtree, did Morgott and Mohg really live in this... excrement? No wonder they were always so cranky."
Before anyone can respond, a large, Frenzied frog leaps from the murky water, tackling Magnus to the ground. Despite being caught off guard, Magnus manages to hold the creature at bay, its snapping jaws inches from his face.
With lightning-fast reflexes, Messmer drives his spear through the frog's body, lifting it off Magnus and tossing it aside with a sickening splash.
As Messmer helps Magnus to his feet, Malenia can't suppress a grimace. "Magnus, your hair... it's covered in sewer filth."
Magnus runs a hand through his once-golden locks, now slicked with unspeakable grime. "Oh, that's just perfect," he groans.
Messmer, ever practical, interjects, "We should focus on the task at hand."
"Easy for you to say," Magnus retorts, still trying to shake off the muck. "You're not the one with sewage in your hair."
Maeve can't help but laugh at her brother's predicament, earning her a mock glare from Magnus.
Their banter is cut short by the echoing sound of inhuman howls reverberating through the sewer tunnels. Instinctively, they all draw their weapons, forming a protective circle.
Godwyn, taking charge, asks, "Do either of you have any sense of which direction we should take?"
Magnus and Maeve exchange glances before shrugging in unison. "We've never even been to Leyndell," Maeve points out.
"I meant," Godwyn clarifies, a hint of exasperation in his voice, "do you have any... feelings? From the feathers or whatever allows Magnus to sense these things?"
Magnus closes his eyes, trying to focus past the overwhelming sensory assault of the sewers. After a moment, he opens them, a look of uncertainty on his face. "I... I'm not sure. There's so much interference down here. The Frenzied Flame's influence is strong."
Maeve nods in agreement. "It's like static in my mind. But..." she pauses, tilting her head as if listening to something only she can hear, "I think we need to go deeper."
Malenia, her sword at the ready, asks, "Deeper into what, exactly?"
"Into the heart of this corruption," Messmer answers for Maeve, his eyes scanning the darkness ahead. "Where the Frenzied Flame's power is stronger."
Godwyn takes a deep breath, steeling himself. "Then that's where we'll go. Stay alert, and stay together. We don't know what other surprises these sewers might hold."
As they begin to move deeper into the labyrinthine tunnels, the howls grow louder, more frequent. The air becomes thicker, charged with an energy that sets their nerves on edge. Despite the grime and the danger, there's a sense of purpose in their steps. Whatever awaits them in the depths of Leyndell's sewers, they'll face it together.
Magnus, bringing up the rear, mutters under his breath, "I really hope there's a bath at the end of this..."
The group cautiously makes their way through the winding sewers, the stench of decay growing stronger with each step. After what feels like an eternity, they come upon a forsaken cathedral, its grandeur a stark contrast to the filth surrounding it. A mysterious passage, already opened, beckons them forward.
As they follow the passage, they enter a room that stops them in their tracks. Thousands of deceased merchants line the walls and floor, their bodies frozen in eternal slumber. The sight sends a chill down their spines, a grim reminder of the devastation wrought by the Frenzied Flame.
Spotting a large drop ahead, they exchange determined glances before leaping down into the unknown. As they land, they're immediately greeted by the presence of a young woman. She appears delicate, with a blindfold covering her eyes, and stands before them with an air of serenity that seems out of place in these depths.
Godwyn, kneels before her. "Are you alright, miss? What are you doing in such a place?"
While Godwyn engages with the woman, Malenia and Maeve turn to Magnus, expecting him to rush to the stranger's aid as he usually would. Instead, they're surprised to see a look of deep suspicion on his face, his golden eyes narrowed and his posture tense. Recognizing the signs of Magnus's unique ability to sense people's true nature, they ready their weapons, following his lead.
The woman speaks, her voice soft and melodious. "My name is Hyetta. I was a finger maiden."
Godwyn, still unaware of the tension building among his siblings, asks gently, "Was? What do you mean?"
Hyetta's lips curl into a smile that doesn't quite reach her covered eyes. "My Tarnished succeeded. He became lord."
Suddenly, flames begin to flicker from behind Hyetta's blindfold, the fabric starting to smolder. With inhuman speed, she reaches for Godwyn's face, her intentions clearly malevolent.
But Magnus is faster. With a swift gesture, he uses his telekinesis to yank Godwyn backwards, out of Hyetta's reach. In the same fluid motion, Magnus surges forward, his sword flashing in the dim light. The blade pierces through Hyetta's chest, the force of the blow carrying her backwards until she's pinned against the wall.
Magnus steps back, leaving Hyetta impaled and suspended. His face is a mask of grim determination as he turns to the others. "She's not what she seems. The Frenzied Flame has corrupted her completely."
Maeve steps forward, her crimson eyes fixed on the still form of Hyetta. "What now? We can't leave her like this, even in death she could be dangerous."
Messmer, his voice low and serious, suggests, "We should destroy the body completely. Leave no chance for the Frenzied Flame to use it again."
Hyetta, still impaled against the wall, raises her head, her voice dripping with malice.
"You think you can free me?" she cackles, her words echoing in the cavernous space. "Oh, you poor, misguided children of Order."
The demigods exchange bewildered glances, unsure of her meaning. Before they can react, Hyetta grips the sword protruding from her chest and, with inhuman strength, pulls herself off the blade. The sickening sound of tearing flesh fills the air as she slides free.
As her feet touch the ground, her entire body begins to glow with an otherworldly light. The flames of frenzy dance across her skin, consuming the blindfold that once covered her eyes. In its place, two orbs of pure madness burn in her empty sockets, casting an eldritch glow on her twisted features.
Her laughter grows more maniacal, the sound grating against their very souls. "You've bested the Frenzied Godfrey, have you? A mere puppet, a shadow of true power." Her voice drops to a sinister whisper. "But my true lord, the Lord of Frenzied Flame, is beyond your comprehension."
Hyetta's gaze shifts to Maeve, her fiery eyes seeming to bore into the demigod's very being. "You," she hisses, a grotesque smile splitting her face. "My lord still desires you by its side. Willingly..." her voice turns sickeningly sweet, "or unwillingly, if need be."
Maeve recoils, her face a mask of horror and disgust. Magnus steps protectively in front of his twin, his wings flaring out.
"You won't touch her," he snarls, his voice thick with rage.
Hyetta merely laughs, the sound like breaking glass. "Oh, but I won't have to. The Flame of Frenzy calls to her, whispers in her dreams. It's only a matter of time."
Godwyn raises his weapon, his voice steady despite the tension. "Your words are poison, creature. We won't let you spread your madness any further."
"Madness?" Hyetta tilts her head, her movements jerky and unnatural. "No, this is clarity. The world as it should be, consumed in glorious flame!"
As she speaks, the air around her begins to shimmer with heat. The flames in her eye sockets grow brighter, more intense.
"Let me show you," she croons, her arms spreading wide. "Let me embrace you with the Frenzied Flame's love!"
Just as she's about to unleash an inferno of madness, Maeve steps forward, her crimson eyes blazing with determination. "No," she says, her voice cold and final. "Daeth shall extinguish your flames."
With a gesture, Maeve unleashes a wave of Destined Death. The black and red energy surges forward, engulfing Hyetta. The creature's laughter turns to screams as the power of Death itself tears her apart, atom by atom.
In moments, all that remains of Hyetta is a fading echo of her final scream and a scorched mark on the ground where she once stood.
The demigods stand in stunned silence for a moment, processing what they've just witnessed. Malenia is the first to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.
"By the Erdtree... what have we stumbled into?"
Messmer, his face grim, replies, "The heart of madness itself, it seems."
Magnus turns to Maeve, concern etched on his features. "Are you alright?"
Maeve nods, though her hands tremble slightly. "I'm fine. But we need to move. If she was here, the Lord of Frenzied Flame can't be far."
As they recover from their encounter with Hyetta, a faint glimmer of light catches their attention. Nearby, a chamber door stands slightly ajar, revealing a haunting sight within.
Suspended in the air, bound by ethereal chains, hangs a figure. As they draw closer, the full horror of the scene becomes apparent. The woman's spiritual form bears the marks of unimaginable torture, her body covered in burns that seem to flicker and pulse with an otherworldly energy.
Messmer's eyes widen in shock and recognition. Without a word, he rushes forward, his usual composure shattered. With swift, precise movements, he cuts through the chains, catching the woman's limp form as she falls.
The others, still processing the sudden turn of events, approach cautiously.
"Messmer, what are you doing?" Godwyn asks, his voice tinged with concern. "Who is she?"
As if in response to their voices, the woman's eyes flutter open. One eye gleams with an unmistakable gloam light. The very sight sends a shiver down their spines, reminiscent of Magnus's vision.
Messmer's voice is thick with emotion as he answers, "It's Melina... our sister."
A collective gasp ripples through the group. Maeve steps forward, her crimson eyes wide with realization. "This must be it," she breathes. "The reason the feather brought us here. To save her."
Magnus nods, placing a comforting hand on Messmer's shoulder. "You're right, Maeve. This can't be a coincidence."
Malenia, ever practical, voices the question on everyone's mind. "But how do we get out of here? We can't exactly retrace our steps through those sewers, not with Melina in this condition."
Godwyn's face sets in determination. "I know a way," he says, his voice steady and sure. "Follow me. We need to move quickly before more of the Frenzied Flame's minions discover us."
As Messmer gently lifts Melina into his arms, her form seeming to flicker between corporeal and ethereal, the gravity of their situation settles over the group. They've found their lost sister, but they're deep in enemy territory, surrounded by the corrupting influence of the Frenzied Flame.
Godwyn guides them through winding passages, past the eerie chamber of deceased merchants. The air grows thinner, less oppressive, as they ascend. Finally, they emerge into an area that should have been the Deeproot Depths, but now opens into a vast, empty void.
As they stand at the precipice, the enormity of their situation becomes clear. The landmass of Leyndell is indeed moving, grinding its way across the ocean floor far below. The sight is both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
Magnus and Maeve exchange a knowing glance, realizing the task ahead. "We'll have to fly the others back to the Haligtree," Magnus says, his wings already unfurling.
Maeve nods, moving to lift Messmer, who cradles the still-unconscious Melina in his arms. Malenia approaches Magnus, preparing to climb onto his back.
"Godwyn," Magnus calls, extending a hand to his brother. "Come on, we need to go."
But Godwyn takes a step back, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. "It's been a while since I've tried this old trick," he says cryptically.
Before anyone can question him, Godwyn sprints past them and leaps off the cliff. For a heart-stopping moment, they fear the worst. But then, in a display of raw power, lightning begins to course through Godwyn's body. The electricity coalesces, forming into four magnificent wings of pure lightning.
The others stare in awe, their jaws dropping at the spectacle.
"By the Erdtree," Maeve breathes, her eyes wide. "I had no idea he could do that."
Magnus shakes his head in amazement. "Neither did I. It seems our eldest brother still has some surprises up his sleeve."
Malenia, now securely on Magnus's back, can't help but laugh. "Well, are we going to stand here gawking, or are we going to fly?"
With renewed determination, they take to the skies. Magnus, his white wings spread wide, carries Malenia. Maeve, her dark wings a stark contrast to her brother's, holds Messmer, who in turn clutches Melina's ethereal form close. And Godwyn, a living storm of lightning, leads the way.
Chapter 91: A Nice Surprise Chapter Text The night has fallen over the Haligtree, casting long shadows across its branches. Radahn, now in command, has wasted no time in fortifying their defenses. The patrols have been doubled, and the Archangels maintain a constant vigil, circling the tree and scanning the surrounding seas for any sign of threat or their returning leaders.
In the war room, Radahn confers with Lansseax, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight. The map of the Lands Between sprawls before them, marked with the latest intelligence and potential strategies.
"If we hear nothing by tomorrow," Radahn says, his deep voice somber, "we must prepare for the worst."
Radahn notices the concern etched on her face and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. "My siblings are strong, Lansseax. They've overcome impossible odds before."
"I know," she replies, a sad smile playing on her lips. "But I've lost both Godwyn and Magnus once already. The thought of losing them again..."
Radahn nods, understanding her fear all too well. "We must have faith. And in the meantime, we prepare."
They step outside onto one of the Haligtree's massive branches. The cool night air carries the scent of distant seas and blooming flowers. Radahn's eyes scan the skies, spotting the familiar forms of the Archangels on patrol.
"Millicent!" he calls out, his voice carrying across the night.
The young demigoddess descends gracefully, landing before her uncle. "Yes, Uncle Radahn?"
"I need you to take Maureen and Polyanna. You'll be taking over Gwen and Eleanora's patrol routes," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Millicent's eyes widen slightly, but she nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Of course. What about Gwen and Eleanora?"
"Tell them to fly towards Altus," Radahn replies. "We need eyes in that direction, to see if there's any sign of your parents and the others."
"Right away," Millicent says, preparing to take off.
"And Millicent," Radahn adds, his voice softening slightly. "Be careful out there. All of you."
She gives him a small smile before launching into the air, her wings carrying her swiftly to relay the orders to her sisters.
As Radahn watches her go, Lansseax steps up beside him. "They're growing up so fast," she muses. "Taking on such responsibilities..."
Radahn nods, a mix of pride and concern in his eyes. "They're their parents' daughters. Strong, brave, and ready to face whatever comes."
As Radahn and Lansseax stand vigilant, their eyes scanning the horizon, they spot movement in the distance. The familiar glow of Gwen and Eleanora's spectral wings becomes visible, escorting a group of figures behind them.
Lansseax's breath catches as she recognizes a set of lightning wings. "Godwyn," she whispers, her voice filled with a mix of relief and awe. "He's summoned the wings Fortissax taught him."
As the group draws nearer, more details become clear. Magnus's majestic form carries Malenia, while Maeve flies with Messmer and an unfamiliar, seemingly injured figure.
Radahn turns to Lansseax, his voice urgent. "Fetch Miquella. We may need a healer."
Lansseax nods and quickly departs to find the young empyrean.
The returning group descends onto one of the Haligtree's broad branches. Messmer gently lays down the injured woman, who has just begun to stir. Miquella arrives with Lansseax just as the others gather around.
"It's Melina," Godwyn explains quickly, his voice tight with concern. "Our sister."
A collective gasp ripples through the group as they process this information. Miquella moves closer, his hands already glowing with healing energy.
Suddenly, Melina's eye flutters open. For a moment, she seems disoriented, her gaze darting from face to face. But when her eyes lock with Messmer's, something snaps. With surprising strength, she lashes out, her fist connecting solidly with Messmer's jaw.
Messmer stumbles back, more from shock than pain, as Melina scrambles away, pressing herself against the trunk of the Haligtree. Her eyes are wide with fear and confusion.
"Stay back!" she shouts, her voice hoarse. "Who are you? Why is he here?" Her gaze flicks accusingly towards Messmer.
Magnus steps forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Melina, please. You're safe now. We're your family."
But Melina shakes her head violently. "No, no. This is a trick. Another cruel game of the Frenzied Flame."
Maeve, her voice uncharacteristically gentle, tries next. "It's not a trick. We rescued you from the sewers of Leyndell. You're at the Haligtree."
Melina's eyes dart around, taking in her surroundings for the first time. Confusion clouds her features as she struggles to reconcile her memories with the reality before her.
Miquella cautiously approaches, his small form less threatening. "Melina, you're injured. Please, let me help you."
For a moment, it seems Melina might lash out again. But then, exhaustion seems to overtake her. She slumps against the tree, her eyes never leaving Messmer.
"Why?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you save me? After everything..."
Messmer takes a tentative step forward, his hand outstretched. "Melina, I—"
But she flinches away, pressing herself further against the tree. Messmer stops, his arm falling to his side. The pain in his eyes is palpable as he speaks.
"I've regretted what I did every day since," he says, his voice heavy with remorse. "Killing you... I wish I hadn't been so blindly loyal to our mother."
Melina's eyes flash with a mix of anger and sorrow. "It wasn't our mother," she corrects, her voice sharp. "It was the Greater Will that commanded my death. My vision of burning the Erdtree was deemed too great a threat."
A collective intake of breath can be heard from the group as this revelation sinks in. Melina continues, her voice softening slightly.
"Our mother... she managed to spare my spirit, but I had to remain hidden."
At this, Morana steps forward from the shadows, her ancient eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "That's when I stepped in," she explains. "I revived Melina, setting her on the path to guide the Tarnished to become Elden Lord."
The pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place for those gathered. They had known of Morana's involvement, but now the full picture is becoming clear.
Melina's gaze sweeps across the unfamiliar faces surrounding her. "And who are the rest of you?" she asks, her voice tinged with wariness.
One by one, they introduce themselves.
Recognition flickers in Melina's eyes at these names, but confusion returns as she looks at Maeve and Magnus.
"I've heard of some of you," she admits. "But... who are you two?"
Magnus steps forward, his white wings folding behind him. "I'm Magnus, and this is my twin, Maeve. We were born after the Lord of Frenzy rose to power."
Maeve nods, her crimson eyes meeting Melina's mismatched ones. "We're the youngest of Marika's children. Our birth... it was complicated."
Melina's brow furrows as she processes this information. "After the Lord of Frenzy? But how...?"
Magnus explains gently, "It's a long story, sister. One we'll have time to share. For now, know that we're all here to help you, to protect you."
Melina looks around at the faces of her newly discovered family, a mix of emotions playing across her features. The fear and confusion are still there, but now there's a glimmer of something else... hope, perhaps.
"I... I don't know what to say," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "It's all so much to take in."
Miquella steps closer, his voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to say anything right now, Melina. You're safe here."
Melina's words hang heavy in the air, her voice filled with a mix of fear and urgency. "No, you don't understand. My Tarnished... the Lord of Frenzied Flame... he's kept me prisoner all these years. Ever since I led the attack against him."
"I don't know if it's because some part of the old Tarnished still lives and cares for me, or if I'm just a trophy to him. But that doesn't matter now. What matters is that he's coming."
Her mismatched eyes scan the faces of her newfound family, willing them to understand the gravity of the situation. "He knows you've grown stronger, that you've gained the power to potentially destroy him. And because of that, he intends to finally bathe the world in chaos."
A heavy silence falls over the group as the implications of Melina's words sink in. The end they've been preparing for might be closer than any of them realized.
But Magnus, his golden eyes blazing with determination, breaks the silence. "We can't give up now," he declares, his voice steady and resolute. "If anything, this should give us more hope, more reason to try harder. The Flame is scared – that means we're on the right path."
Godwyn nods, placing a hand on Magnus's shoulder. "Magnus is right. This is not the time for despair, but for action." He turns to address the group. "We'll discuss this further in the coming week. For now, Melina needs rest, and we should await Loretta and Gaius's return from their expedition to Mt. Gelmir."
Miquella steps forward, his small form radiating a calming presence. "Melina, let me show you to a place where you can rest and recover. We'll make sure you're safe and comfortable."
The race against the Frenzied Flame has truly begun, and the fate of the Lands Between hangs in the balance.
Polyanna furrows her brow, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "This family just keeps getting weirder and weirder," she mutters, shaking her head.
Maureen sighs, recognizing her sister's need for clarity. She takes a deep breath, preparing to unravel the complex tapestry of their family's history.
"Alright, let me break it down for you," Maureen begins, her voice taking on a scholarly tone. "It all started with the Night of Black Knives, when Godwyn was slain. That event shook our grandmother, Marika, so profoundly that she shattered the Elden Ring."
Polyanna nods, following along intently as Maureen continues.
"After that, the Greater Will forced Marika to command her children to compete for power, to become the new Elden Lord. That's what started the Shattering."
Maureen's eyes grow distant as she delves deeper into the tale. "Messmer, our uncle, had been sent to the Land of Shadow long ago. He was ordered to kill Melina because of her visions of the Erdtree burning. But Marika, in her wisdom, ensured Melina's spirit would survive."
"That's when Morana, the Gloam-Eyed Queen, found and revived Melina," Maureen explains. "Melina then set out on her destined path to guide the Tarnished."
Polyanna's eyes widen as the pieces start to fall into place. "The Tarnished who fought the Shardbearers?"
Maureen nods. "Exactly. The Tarnished faced Godrick, Rennala, Radahn, Rykard, Morgott, and our mother, Malenia. But things took a dark turn at the Forge of the Giants."
She pauses, her voice growing solemn. "To prevent Melina from sacrificing herself, the Tarnished accepted the Flame of Frenzy. Melina, horrified by this choice, abandoned the Tarnished. But it was too late – after defeating Radagon, the Tarnished became the Lord of Frenzied Flame."
"In the aftermath, Marika escaped and found allies. Melina led a group against the new Lord of Frenzied Flame, but they were defeated. Melina was captured, and the others were killed,"
"Marika and Radagon, their power diminished and the influence of grace waning, decided to have more demigod children. That's how Maeve and Magnus came to be," she explains. "The Greater Will itself aided in their conception, gifting them the runes of death and life."
Maureen's voice grows quieter as she reaches the more recent, painful history. "Years later, the Godskin Monarch, who had overthrown Morana and joined the Frenzied Flame, killed Magnus. That's when Aunt Maeve's power erupted, giving her control over destined death and manifesting her dark wings. She embarked on a path of vengeance."
"Radagon vanished, and Marika fled to the Land of Shadow with Magnus's body. She later revived him, but he had little memory of his past. Fearing the pain it would cause, Marika kept much of the history secret from him."
As Maureen finishes her explanation, Polyanna sits in stunned silence, trying to process the complex web of events that led to their current situation.
"By the Erdtree," Polyanna whispers, "our family history is like a tragedy written by the gods themselves."
Maureen nods solemnly. "Indeed. And now, with Melina's return and the looming threat of the Frenzied Flame, we stand at another crucial moment in that history."
The two sisters sit in contemplative silence, the weight of their family's past and the uncertainty of their future hanging heavy in the air around them.
Melina finds Maeve lounging on a balcony, her dark wings draped casually over the railing. As Melina approaches, Maeve raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the visit.
"Well, well, look who's decided to join the land of the living," Maeve quips.
Melina, ignoring the jab, jumps straight into her questions. "Who are these Archangels I keep hearing about?"
Maeve sits up, her tone becoming a bit more serious. "They're Magnus's. Gifted power by him"
"And Messmer and Morana? How did you meet them?"
"Ah, that's an interesting tale," Maeve says, a hint of a smile on her lips. "We met Messmer when the others traveled to the Land of Shadow, seeking Miquella. As for Morana, she appeared at Stormcaller Village, guided by one of Magnus's feathers."
Melina's brow furrows. "Feathers?"
"Yeah, it's a whole thing," Maeve explains. "We think they're from a future version of Magnus. They show up and give visions or guide us. It's as mysterious as it sounds."
"What about Godfrey? I heard something happened..."
Maeve's expression darkens slightly. "Godfrey, Godwyn's father and former Elden Lord, showed up as a puppet of the Frenzied Flame. Tried to destroy the Haligtree. Not exactly a warm family reunion."
Melina nods, processing this information. Then, hesitantly, she asks, "And Magnus and Malenia? They seem... close."
At this, Maeve bursts into laughter. "Oh honey, 'close' doesn't begin to cover it. They're fucking. Like, a lot."
Melina's eyes widen in shock. "I'm sorry, what?"
Maeve grins wickedly. "You heard me. Should I go on? Describe it in detail?"
Melina, still reeling, asks, "Is... is that how the girls were born?"
This sends Maeve into another fit of laughter. "Oh, fuck no! Those little terrors? They bloomed like flowers when Malenia fought Radahn. Popped right out of the ground like daisies from hell."
Melina stares at Maeve, completely dumbfounded. "You're joking, right?"
Maeve wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. "Nope. Dead serious. Welcome to the family, sis. It's all downhill from here."
As Melina stands there, trying to process this barrage of information, Maeve pats her on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll get used to the insanity. Or you'll go mad. Either way, it'll be entertaining for the rest of us."
Melina slumps down, the weight of her experiences finally showing. "I'm... I'm having trouble adjusting to all of this," she admits softly. "The siblings, not being tortured by the Frenzied Flame... it's overwhelming."
Maeve sighs, realizing she might actually need to offer some comfort. She sits down beside Melina, her usual sarcastic demeanor softening slightly.
"Look, I get it," Maeve says, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "I had a hard time adjusting to some of our siblings too. For the longest time, Magnus was the only one I truly loved or trusted."
She pauses, a wry smile playing on her lips. "When we reunited with the others, it was... complicated. Radahn and I got along well enough, Messmer is great, but Malenia? Oh boy, we hated each other's guts. There's probably still some lingering issues there, but we've come a long way."
Maeve chuckles, shaking her head. "You know, at various points, circumstances led me to try and kill pretty much all of them. Except Miquella and Godwyn - they've always seemed nice. Especially Miquella..."
Her voice trails off, a soft smile spreading across her face as she thinks of Miquella. After a moment, she catches herself and turns back to Melina.
"Look, this family is fucked up. Always has been, probably always will be to some degree. But lately, at least the ones around here, we've had each other's backs no matter what. It's... nice, in a weird, dysfunctional way."
Maeve's expression grows serious for a moment. "And Messmer? I can tell he's torn up about what he did to you. The guilt is eating him alive."
She stands up, stretching her dark wings. "Give it time, Melina. We're all messed up in our own ways, but we're trying. And if nothing else, you'll never be bored around here."
Maeve offers Melina a hand up. "Come on, let's go find you some decent food. Nothing helps you adjust to family drama like a good meal."
As they walk away from the balcony, Maeve adds with a smirk, "Just... maybe avoid Magnus and Malenia's room at night. The walls aren't as thick as they think they are."
As Maeve and Melina walk through the courtyard, they come across Messmer preparing a group for their journey to Liurnia. Messmer's gaze locks onto them, his internal struggle evident in his hesitation.
Maeve, never one for subtlety, decides to take matters into her own hands. She abruptly changes their course, steering Melina towards Messmer, and with a not-so-gentle shove, pushes her sister forward.
"You two need to talk. I'll be over there, pretending not to eavesdrop," Maeve announces, sauntering off to a nearby tree.
Melina stands before Messmer, her posture rigid and her eyes cold. The tension between them is palpable, years of pain and betrayal hanging in the air.
Messmer, his usually stoic demeanor cracking, kneels slightly before Melina. His voice is heavy with remorse as he speaks. "Melina, I... I know I've said this before, but I truly regret what I did. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness."
Melina's voice is flat as she responds, "You're right. You don't."
Messmer's serpent companions coil around him, as if trying to offer comfort. Melina's gaze flicks to them, then back to Messmer's face. She lets out a long, weary sigh.
"The world might come to an end soon," she says, her tone softening slightly. "Perhaps... perhaps I can forgive you for now. At least until we've saved it."
Surprise flickers across Messmer's face. "Why would you do that?"
Melina stares at him, her expression still guarded but no longer as cold. After a moment's hesitation, she opens her arms, offering a hug. Messmer, shocked by the gesture, remains frozen in place.
"In the decades I spent being tortured," Melina explains, her voice barely above a whisper, "I thought regularly about you and our time in the Land of Shadow. When you watched over me... those were some of the only moments of happiness I had to cling to."
Messmer, overwhelmed by emotion, slowly rises and steps into Melina's embrace. The hug is awkward at first, both of them tense and uncertain, but gradually they relax into it.
From her spot by the tree, Maeve watches with a mixture of surprise and approval. "Well, I'll be damned," she mutters to herself. "Maybe there's hope for this dysfunctional family after all."
Messmer clears his throat, composing himself. "Thank you, Melina. I promise, I'll do everything in my power to make things right."
Melina nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You can start by telling me about this trip to Liurnia. Perhaps... perhaps I could join you?"
As the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow over the Haligtree's docks, the family gathers to bid farewell to Radahn, Messmer, and Melina. The air is thick with a mixture of hope and apprehension as they prepare for their journey to Liurnia.
Miquella, his small form radiating wisdom beyond his apparent years, speaks up. "When you return, we should discuss with Melina the possibility of transporting us to Farum Azula. Her abilities could be crucial to our plans."
Godwyn nods in agreement, his expression thoughtful. "Indeed. We must explore every avenue available to us."
As the conversation continues, Malenia stands slightly apart from the group, her usual stoic demeanor masking the turmoil within. The others, accustomed to her quiet nature, fail to notice the storm brewing behind her eyes.
Suddenly, unable to contain her thoughts any longer, Malenia reaches out and gently tugs on Magnus's arm. "Magnus," she says softly, her voice barely audible above the others' chatter, "I need to speak with you."
Magnus, immediately attuned to the urgency in her tone, nods. They step away from the group, moving just far enough to have a semblance of privacy while still being able to hear the ongoing conversation.
"What is it, love?" Magnus asks, his brow furrowing with concern as he takes in Malenia's troubled expression.
Malenia takes a deep breath, her golden prosthetic hand fidgeting slightly as she struggles to find the right words. The weight of her worries, long held at bay, threatens to spill over.
Her usual composure completely shattered. She opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again, words failing her.
"I... I need to... Magnus, I..." she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper.
Magnus, distracted by Morana's arrival to bid Melina farewell, only half-hears Malenia's attempts to speak.
"Magnus," Malenia tries again, her voice cracking slightly. "Please, I need to..."
Realizing Malenia is struggling, Magnus turns his full attention to her. He gently grasps her arm, his touch instantly calming. Their eyes lock, and Malenia feels herself melting into his golden gaze.
"Relax, love," Magnus soothes, his brow furrowed with concern. "It's not like you to be so nervous. What's troubling you?"
Malenia takes a deep breath, steeling herself. "I... I want to... No, I need to..."
Suddenly, her hand moves to a ring on her finger - a silver band with a glowing golden gem, a gift from her mother. In one swift motion, she pulls it off.
The world seems to slow down as Malenia drops to one knee.
Magnus's eyes go wide, his wings flaring slightly in surprise.
From behind them, Radahn's booming voice breaks the silence: "By the fucking stars!"
All conversation at the docks ceases as every head turns towards Magnus and Malenia. The tension in the air is palpable, a mixture of shock, anticipation, and confusion rippling through the gathered family.
Malenia, her face flushed and her voice trembling, looks up at Magnus. The words she's been struggling to say finally tumble out:
"Magnus, my love, my anchor in this chaotic world... Will you be my consort?"
The silence that follows is deafening. Magnus stands frozen, his expression a mix of surprise, joy, and disbelief. The others watch with bated breath, the farewell gathering suddenly transformed into a moment that could reshape their family's future.
In the background, Maeve can be heard whispering to Miquella, "Did NOT see that coming."
Magnus stands frozen, his golden eyes wide with shock. The silence stretches on, broken only by the soft lapping of waves against the dock.
"I... I..." Magnus stammers, his usual eloquence abandoning him.
Malenia, still on one knee, her face a mixture of hope and vulnerability, takes a deep breath. "Magnus, my love, we've been together for so long now. We're bonded in a way that I can't even begin to explain."
Her voice grows stronger as she continues, "Together, we've gained so much - our daughters, our family, our kingdom. But we've also lost so much." Her voice catches slightly, memories of Rhaegon flickering behind her eyes. "Through it all, you've been my anchor, my light in the darkness."
Magnus listens intently, his shock slowly melting into something softer, more tender.
"I should have done this long ago," Malenia admits, a rueful smile playing on her lips. "We've faced gods and monsters, life and death, but I've never been as scared as I am right now, asking you this question."
She holds up the ring, its golden gem catching the fading sunlight. "This ring, mother gave it to me, telling me to give it to the one who holds my heart. Magnus, you are that one."
Meanwhile, the girls stand with their aunts and uncles, their jaws practically on the floor. Miquella's expression mirrors theirs, his usual composure completely shattered.
"Is this really happening?" Mary whispers, her voice filled with awe. "Shh!" Maureen hisses, not wanting to miss a word.
Malenia continues, her voice growing more confident with each word. "You've seen me at my worst and at my best. You've loved me through the Scarlet Rot and beyond. You've given me a family I never thought I could have."
She takes another deep breath, her eyes never leaving Magnus's. "Magnus, Angel of the Haligtree, Bearer of the Rune of Life, father of my children, love of my existence... I ask you again, will you be my consort? Will you join your life with mine, for all eternity?"
The world seems to hold its breath as everyone waits for Magnus's response. After what feels like an eternity, but is really only a moment, Magnus's face breaks into a radiant smile.
Without a moment's hesitation, he replies, his voice ringing clear and true, "Yes, Malenia."
He drops to his knees, bringing himself level with Malenia, and cups her face in his hands. "You are my heart, my soul, my everything. Of course I'll be your consort."
As Magnus leans in to kiss Malenia, sealing their commitment, cheers erupt from their family. The girls rush forward, enveloping their parents in a group hug, while the others applaud and call out congratulations.
Radahn, his booming voice carrying over the excited chatter, turns to Messmer and Melina. "I think we might need to postpone our trip to Liurnia," he says with a grin. "Seems we have a more pressing matter to attend to."
Miquella steps forward, his small form barely containing his excitement. "When would you like to have the ceremony?" he asks, his voice filled with warmth. "I can begin preparations immediately."
Malenia, still kneeling with Magnus, her hand intertwined with his, looks up at her twin. "As soon as you're able to arrange it, brother," she says softly. "I don't want anything special or extravagant. Just our family, here at the Haligtree."
Godwyn, ever the voice of tradition, interjects. "But Malenia, this is your wedding! The union of two demigods, no less. Surely it deserves some grandeur?"
Malenia's gaze returns to Magnus, her eyes filled with love as she cups his cheek gently. "He's special enough," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't need anything else."
Magnus leans into her touch, his wings curling around them both. "As long as I'm with you, it could be in the depths of Caelid and I'd consider it perfect," he murmurs.
The girls, still clustered around their parents, exchange excited glances.
"Can we help with the preparations?" Mary asks eagerly. "I want to decorate!" Polyanna chimes in. "Ooh, can I do the flowers?" Millicent adds.
Miquella, already mentally cataloging what needs to be done, turns to the others. "Well then, shall we begin the preparations? It seems we have a wedding to plan, and knowing these two, they'd probably prefer sooner rather than later."
As Miquella requests a day to prepare, the excitement is palpable among Malenia's daughters. Their enthusiastic response to helping with the wedding preparations adds a touch of warmth to the scene. The group then retreats inside, leaving the tranquil exterior of the Haligtree behind.
Chapter 92: Day of Celebration Notes: I am giving you guys another new chapter day after the last as my gift to you all. Merry Christmas!
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Chapter Text In a cleared area serving as a training ground, an intense battle unfolds between Gwen, Eleanora, and Jar-Bairn. The once small pottery warrior has grown into a formidable fighter, his ceramic body now larger and more imposing, reminiscent of his legendary uncle, Iron Fist Alexander.
Jar-Bairn moves with surprising agility for his size, his body gleaming in the sunlight as he dodges Gwen's swift sword strikes. Eleanora, wielding her holy twin blade Europa, attempts to flank him, but Jar-Bairn anticipates her move. He spins, using his rotund form to deflect Eleanora's attack while simultaneously reaching for Gwen with his powerful arms.
Gwen's spectral wings flare as she leaps back, narrowly avoiding Jar-Bairn's grasp. She and Eleanora exchange a quick glance, silently agreeing on a coordinated assault. They move in perfect sync, Gwen's Sword of Light creating arcs of brilliant energy while Eleanora's Europa leaves trails of holy light in its wake.
Jar-Bairn, showing his mastery of combat, manages to parry several of their blows. His ceramic body resonates with each impact, creating a haunting melody of battle. He counters with a series of rapid punches, each blow carrying the weight of a battering ram.
The archangels are forced to separate, giving Jar-Bairn an opening. He charges at Eleanora, his momentum seeming unstoppable. But at the last moment, Gwen swoops in from above, her spectral wings propelling her. She manages to grapple Jar-Bairn, using his own momentum to throw him off balance.
Eleanora seizes the opportunity, sweeping Jar-Bairn's feet with Europa. As he falls, Gwen descends upon him, her sword at his neck, while Eleanora points her blade at his core.
Jar-Bairn yields, his ceramic features somehow managing to convey both disappointment and respect. As they help him up, all three warriors share a moment of camaraderie, acknowledging the intensity of their bout and the growth of their skills.
The scene ends with the trio, battle-worn but spirited, heading back to rejoin the others, their training session having proven that Jar-Bairn has indeed become a warrior worthy of his uncle's legacy.
The scene unfolds with Gwen and Eleanora catching their breath, their faces beaming with pride for their comrade.
Gwen, her spectral wings settling, says warmly, "Jar-Bairn, you've truly outdone yourself this time. A few more bouts like that, and we'll be the ones yielding to you!"
Eleanora nods in agreement, "Indeed! Your uncle would be bursting with pride if he could see you now."
Jar-Bairn's ceramic body seems to straighten with pride, his voice resonating with determination, "Thank you, my friends. But I won't rest on my laurels just yet. My true goal is to give Lord Magnus a fight worthy of song! Only then will I consider my training complete."
Their camaraderie is interrupted as Seroch approaches, his expression a mix of excitement and hesitation. "Have you heard the news?" he asks, his tail swishing with anticipation.
Eleanora tilts her head, "News? What news?"
Seroch's eyes widen, "Oh, you haven't! Well, brace yourselves. Lady Malenia has just asked Lord Magnus to be her consort!"
A moment of stunned silence follows. Jar-Bairn is the first to break it, his voice booming with joy, "Marvelous! Absolutely marvelous! Oh, I can already taste the feast to come!"
Eleanora, noticing Gwen's sudden stillness, quickly interjects, "Speaking of taste, Jar-Bairn, how exactly do you eat? I've always wondered about that."
Jar-Bairn chuckles, his ceramic body somehow conveying mirth, "Ah, that's a secret I'll gladly reveal at the celebration. You'll have to wait and see!"
As Jar-Bairn and Seroch continue to chat excitedly about the impending union, Eleanora sidles closer to Gwen, whispering, "Are you alright?"
Gwen forces a smile, her voice low, "I'm fine. It's... it's wonderful news. Truly."
Eleanora places a comforting hand on Gwen's shoulder, understanding the complex emotions her friend must be grappling with.
Gwen nods almost imperceptibly, then raises her voice to join the conversation, masking her inner turmoil with practiced ease. "Well then, it seems we have a celebration to prepare for! Shall we head back and see how we can help?"
The moonlight casts long shadows as Melina approaches Morana's chambers. The Gloam-Eyed Queen sits in quiet contemplation, her ancient eyes reflecting countless ages.
"Why have you come, child?" Morana's voice is soft yet carries the weight of eons.
Melina's mismatched eyes flash with determination. "I demand answers, Morana. Why did you bring me back so long ago?"
Morana sighs, her form seeming to shimmer in the dim light. "I knew of your visions, Melina. I had hoped... at the time... that you would help ensure they came to pass. That the Erdtree would fall."
Anger flares in Melina's voice. "You... you're to blame for my fate! For everything I've endured!" She turns to leave, her cloak swirling around her.
"Wait," Morana's voice stops her. "There's more you need to know."
Melina pauses, her back still turned.
Morana's next words are careful, measured. "Tell me, child. How did you acquire Miquella's steed to gift to the Tarnished?"
Melina turns, confusion replacing anger. "I... I don't..." She stammers, realizing the gap in her memory.
With a wave of her hand, Morana lifts an ancient spell. "I placed this enchantment on you when I revived you, to keep certain memories at bay."
Suddenly, memories flood Melina's mind. She sees Morana, younger but still ancient, presenting her with a spectral steed. "Torrent," Melina whispers. "You... you stole him from Miquella?"
Morana nods, her eyes filled with regret. "Without his knowledge. Another sin to add to my long list."
The Gloam-Eyed Queen's voice grows heavy with emotion. "I have expressed my guilt over past actions to your siblings, but the way I deceived and manipulated you, Melina... it pains me the most. You are right to blame me for playing a part in your fate."
Melina stares at Morana, a whirlwind of emotions crossing her face. Anger, betrayal, confusion, and a flicker of understanding.
"You're right," Melina says finally, her voice cold. "I do blame you."
Without another word, Melina turns and walks away, leaving Morana alone with the weight of her ancient regrets. The Gloam-Eyed Queen watches her go, the shadows seeming to deepen around her as she whispers, "I'm sorry, my child. For everything."
The door closes behind Melina, leaving only the echoes of unresolved pain and the hope for eventual redemption.
Maeve approaches Miquella on one of the grand balconies of the Haligtree, the evening breeze gently rustling her crimson hair. She finds him gazing out over the sprawling branches, lost in thought.
"So, brother," Maeve begins, her tone casual but with an undercurrent of nervousness, "why aren't you planning to have the ceremony in the chapel? Seems like the obvious choice."
Miquella turns, his eternally youthful face belying his true age and wisdom. "I considered it, but it's too small for all the guests we'll have."
Maeve's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Guests? I thought Malenia said she only wanted a small ceremony. Something intimate."
A mischievous glint appears in Miquella's eyes. "She did say that. But I'm inviting others anyway. It's a momentous occasion, after all."
Maeve chuckles, shaking her head. "You always did have a mind of your own. Anything you need help with?"
Miquella looks at her, a mix of confusion and intrigue in his gaze. "You? Help with wedding preparations? Do you know anything about setting up such things?"
Maeve sighs, her usual bravado faltering. "No, I don't. I'm just... I thought maybe I could just spend some time with you."
A warm smile spreads across Miquella's face, causing Maeve's heart to skip a beat. "I'd enjoy that, Maeve. Actually, there is something I'd like to ask you."
"Oh?" Maeve's interest is piqued, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
"Would you be Malenia's Maiden of Honor?"
Maeve's laughter is tinged with nervousness. "Wait, you're serious? Why me? I'm pretty sure there are still some small parts of Malenia that don't exactly like me."
Miquella's voice is gentle but firm, his hand briefly touching Maeve's arm. The contact sends a shiver through her. "Maeve, you're the only sister Malenia has. Yes, Melina is here now, but she just arrived. You and Malenia have history, complicated as it may be."
Maeve falls silent, her red eyes reflecting a mix of emotions as she looks into Miquella's. "I... I don't know what to say."
"Say yes," Miquella encourages, his voice soft. "It would mean a lot to Malenia, even if she might not admit it. And... it would mean a lot to me too."
Maeve looks out over the Haligtree, considering, very aware of Miquella's proximity. After a long moment, she turns back to him, a rare vulnerability in her expression. "Alright, brother. I'll do it. But if this turns into a disaster, I'm blaming you."
Miquella's laugh is light and melodious, causing Maeve's heart to flutter. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Miquella's smile is tinged with mischief as he gestures towards the stairs. "Why don't you head down and speak to the girls? I'm sure they'd love to see you."
Maeve narrows her eyes suspiciously but complies. As she descends the stairs, she finds Malenia's daughters busily sewing dresses. Their faces light up at the sight of their aunt.
Amy, the quiet one, speaks first. "Aunt Maeve! Did Uncle Miquella ask you yet?"
Maeve crosses her arms. "Ask me what, exactly?"
Millicent chimes in, "To be the Maiden of Honor, of course!"
"Yes," Maeve replies slowly, "he did. Why do you all look so... excited about that?"
The girls exchange gleeful glances before Maureen steps forward with a measuring tape. "Well, we need to know your dress size, Aunt Maeve."
Realization dawns on Maeve's face. "Oh no. No, no, no. Miquella, you sneaky little—"
She turns to leave, but Polyanna is quicker. With a flurry of wings, she tackles Maeve to the ground.
"Oof! Polyanna, what in the name of the Erdtree do you think you're doing?" Maeve sputters.
Polyanna grins. "Uncle Miquella warned us you might try to escape. Sorry, Aunt Maeve, but you're not going anywhere."
Maeve's eyes narrow dangerously. "Get. Off. Me. Now. Or face my wrath, niece or not."
Polyanna reluctantly releases her but stands firmly in front of the door. "Please, Aunt Maeve? It would mean so much to all of us."
Maeve sighs heavily. "Fine. But I'm not wearing anything frilly or—"
"It's a beautiful golden dress!" Mary exclaims excitedly.
Maeve's face pales. "Absolutely not. If I have to do this, it's black or nothing."
"But why?" Amy asks, puzzled.
Maeve fixes them with a deadpan stare. "Because it reflects my dark heart, obviously."
The girls burst into giggles, much to Maeve's chagrin.
"Come on, Aunt Maeve," Maureen pleads, "just let us take your measurements. We promise it won't be too bad."
Maeve grumbles but allows them to approach with the measuring tape. "I still can't believe I'm agreeing to this. Your mother probably doesn't even want me in the wedding."
Mary, always the closest to her aunt, speaks softly. "That might not be true, but even if it is... Father would appreciate it."
Maeve's eyes widen. "Oh, you did not just use Magnus against me. That's low, Mary. Really low."
Mary shrugs, a small smile playing on her lips. "Did it work?"
Maeve throws her hands up in exasperation. "Fine! Fine. You win. But I swear, if this dress has even a hint of sparkle..."
Polyanna grins mischievously. "No promises, Aunt Maeve. No promises at all."
As the girls swarm around her with fabric swatches and measuring tapes, Maeve looks skyward. "Magnus, you owe me big time for this. And Miquella... oh, you'd better watch your back."
The room fills with laughter and the rustle of fabric as Maeve resigns herself to her fate, muttering curses under her breath that only make her nieces giggle more.
Magnus steps onto the balcony, his black robe with gold and white accents flowing elegantly in the gentle breeze. He spots Messmer and Radahn near the stage, both looking awkward in their formal wear.
"Well, well," Magnus calls out, a hint of amusement in his voice. "What brings you two here so early? I half expected to be dragging you both out of bed."
Radahn lets out a booming laugh. "Miquella had me helping move things since dawn. Who knew weddings required so much... furniture?"
Messmer, adjusting his cravat with a slight grimace, adds, "As for me, our cunning brother told me an earlier time than necessary. He feared I'd try to sneak in late."
"Smart man," Magnus chuckles. His eyes scan the area. "Have either of you seen Melina?"
"Last I heard, she was with Godwyn," Messmer replies, his golden eyes reflecting curiosity. "Seemed like they had some matters to discuss."
Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of the Haligtree, Godwyn stands before a mirror, fastening the last clasp on his resplendent golden attire. Melina sits nearby, her mismatched eyes fixed on her half-brother.
"What was she like?" Melina asks softly. "Our mother, I mean. The woman behind the god?"
Godwyn pauses, his hands stilling on his collar. "Marika was... complex," he begins, his voice thoughtful. "Strong-willed, certainly. Determined. But there was a softness to her as well, hidden beneath the surface."
Melina leans forward, eager for more. "Did she... did she ever speak of me?"
Godwyn turns to face her, his expression gentle. "Not directly, no. But there were times when she would gaze into the distance, as if seeing something - or someone - that wasn't there. I always wondered..."
"I see," Melina murmurs, a mix of emotions crossing her face.
"Melina," Godwyn says, stepping closer, "I know our family's history is... complicated. But today, we celebrate a new chapter. Perhaps it's a chance for all of us to forge new bonds."
Melina nods slowly, a small smile forming on her lips. "You're right. It's just... there's so much I don't know, so much lost time."
"We have time now," Godwyn reassures her. "And I, for one, am looking forward to getting to know my long-lost sister."
As they share a moment of understanding, the sounds of the wedding preparations filter through the window, a reminder of the joyous occasion that awaits them.
Miquella glides in, his diminutive form belying the aura of authority he carries. He takes his position at the center of the balcony, smoothing out his ornate robes.
Magnus raises an eyebrow. "Playing priest today, brother?"
Miquella nods, a hint of nervousness in his usually confident demeanor. "Someone has to make sure you two don't mess this up."
"Nervous?" Magnus asks, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Me? Never," Miquella scoffs, then pauses. "Well, maybe a little. You?"
Magnus chuckles. "Not at all. Though I am concerned you might need a stepladder to reach the altar."
Miquella narrows his eyes. "Keep it up, and I'll make you kneel for the entire ceremony."
Their banter is interrupted as Radahn lumbers over to his seat, the chair creaking ominously as he settles next to Siluria. The Crucible Knight's hand disappears into Radahn's massive palm as they exchange loving glances.
Melina enters, hesitating at the threshold. Her eyes scan the room before landing on Messmer. With a deep breath, she makes her way to sit beside him.
"Lovely day for a wedding," Messmer offers, his usual smooth demeanor tinged with awkwardness.
Melina nods. "Indeed. Though I half expected it to rain fire, given our family's track record."
Messmer snorts. "The day's still young."
As the tension between them eases, Morana makes her entrance. She approaches Magnus, her ancient eyes twinkling with genuine joy.
"My grandson," she says, her voice carrying the weight of eons. "I'm truly happy for you both."
Magnus inclines his head respectfully. "Thank you, grandmother. Though I hope this doesn't mean you'll start pestering us about great-grandchildren."
Morana's laugh is like the rustling of old leaves. "Give me some credit, child. I've waited countless ages; I can wait a bit longer."
As the guests settle in and the anticipation builds, the air is filled with a mix of joy, nervous energy, and the unmistakable sense that this union is about to usher in a new era for the Lands Between.
Gwen and Eleanora enter, followed by Devonia, Elaine, Elowen, Seroch, and others. The group adds a vibrant energy to the gathering, their chatter and laughter filling the air. Magnus notices Gwen's improved demeanor, a subtle smile crossing his face as he sees her laughing at something Eleanora said.
As the group disperses to find their seats, Lansseax makes her entrance. Her eyes immediately find Magnus, and with a subtle gesture, she indicates for him to join her in a more private corner.
Magnus excuses himself and meets Lansseax away from the crowd. Her dragon heritage lends her an otherworldly grace, even in her human form.
"Magnus," she begins, her voice carrying a warmth that speaks of their shared history. "I wanted to speak with you before the ceremony."
Magnus nods, giving her his full attention. "Of course, Lansseax. What's on your mind?"
She takes a breath, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "I'm truly happy for you and Malenia. You both deserve this joy."
There's a brief pause before she continues, "I'll admit, there was a time when I thought... well, that I might be the one standing beside you today."
Magnus's expression softens with understanding. "Lansseax..."
She holds up a hand, her smile growing more genuine. "No, please. I'm glad things turned out as they have. You have Malenia, I have Godwyn, and we... we still have our friendship. That's more precious to me than you know."
Magnus nods, relief and gratitude evident in his golden eyes. "Thank you, Lansseax. For everything. For always being by my side, through the darkest times and the brightest."
Lansseax reaches out, briefly squeezing his hand. "Always, Magnus. Now, let's get you married, shall we? Malenia's may be the most patient woman I know but I doubt she will wait all day or you on this."
They share a quiet laugh before rejoining the others, their friendship reaffirmed and strengthened on this momentous day.
The small chamber bustles with activity as Malenia's daughters put the finishing touches on their mother's attire. Malenia stands before a mirror, resplendent in a slim white dress adorned with golden accents that catch the light with every movement.
The door opens, and Maeve enters, wearing her own dress. The sisters' eyes meet, and for a moment, the room falls silent, the air thick with unspoken history.
Maeve, ever the one to break tension, speaks first. "Well, well. That's quite the dress you've got there, sister."
Malenia's lips curve into a small smile. "Thank you. I chose it carefully."
"Oh?" Maeve raises an eyebrow. "Do tell. I'm all ears for wedding fashion now, apparently."
Malenia runs a hand over the fabric, her voice softening. "The white and gold... they represent our union. The white for Magnus, like his wings, his purity. And the gold..."
"Let me guess, for your sparkling personality?" Maeve interjects with a smirk.
Malenia shoots her a look but continues, "For me. My usual attire, my prosthetics, the unalloyed gold that's been such a part of my life."
Maeve falls silent for a moment, genuinely touched by the thought behind it. "That's... actually quite sweet. Honoring Magnus like that."
"I thought it fitting," Malenia says, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
"You look lovely, Maeve. Truly," Malenia adds, her gaze softening as she looks at her sister.
Maeve scoffs, but there's less bite to it than usual. "Oh, please. I look like a frilly nightmare. Your daughters are goblins, you know that?"
The girls giggle in the background, and even Malenia can't suppress a chuckle.
An awkward silence falls between them.
Maeve clears her throat. "So... nervous?"
Malenia considers for a moment. "Strangely, no. It feels... right."
"Well, good," Maeve says, fidgeting with her dress. "Because if you left Magnus at the altar, I'd have to kill you, and that would really ruin the mood."
Malenia raises an eyebrow. "Your concern for Magnus is touching."
"Someone has to look out for the big lug," Maeve retorts, but there's a hint of affection in her voice.
The tension between them remains, but it's softened somewhat, a tentative truce on this momentous day.
Malenia's expression softens as she looks at her sister. "Maeve, I know our relationship hasn't been... ideal. But I hope we can put the bad times behind us. Start anew."
Maeve sighs heavily, her usual sharp demeanor falling away. "Yeah, I... I'd like that too."
She pauses, gathering her thoughts. "You know, when we first met, when you and Magnus walked into the Twilight Fortress, I actually liked you. Part of me was excited to finally have a sister."
Malenia listens intently, surprise evident on her face.
Maeve continues, her voice growing more vulnerable. "But then I saw how close you were to Magnus, how he started taking your side. And it... it hurt."
She takes a shaky breath. "Growing up, Magnus was the only one who was always there for me. Sure, our parents cared, Radagon more than Marika, but they were still afraid of me. They knew about the curse, the darkness the Rune of Death left in me. But Magnus... he was the only one who always treated me like a person instead of a monster."
Maeve's eyes glisten with unshed tears. "When you two arrived at the Twilight Fortress, I was so happy. I finally had my brother back - my anchor, my reason to be good. But over time, it all changed."
Her voice cracks slightly. "When you all returned, and Magnus looked at me like I was a monster... I blamed you, Malenia. But I should have been blaming myself."
Malenia reaches out, hesitating before placing a hand on Maeve's arm. "Maeve, I..."
Maeve shakes her head, fighting back tears. "Ever since I came back to life, I've been trying to make up for that. For everything. It's... it's not easy."
The room falls silent, the weight of Maeve's confession hanging in the air. Malenia's daughters exchange glances, unsure of how to react to this unexpected vulnerability from their usually prickly aunt.
Malenia takes a deep breath. "I understand now, Maeve. And I'm sorry too. I never meant to come between you and Magnus. Perhaps we've both made mistakes."
Maeve nods, quickly wiping at her eyes. "Yeah, well... let's not get too sappy. It's your wedding day, after all."
A small smile tugs at Malenia's lips. "Heavens forbid. The girls would never forgive you."
Malenia grasps Maeve's arm gently, her voice firm but kind. "Maeve, you've more than made up for the past. You've protected the girls, the Haligtree, everything we're fighting for."
Maeve scoffs, shaking her head. "Let's not forget it was my rash actions that got Millicent infected with the Frenzied Flame in the first place."
Malenia sighs at the painful memory but presses on. "Yes, but it was also you who fought to protect them afterward. You helped Mary overcome her struggles, and you've been instrumental in turning them into formidable warriors."
The girls nod in agreement, their eyes filled with admiration for their aunt.
Maeve relents, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Fine, fine. Just... promise me you'll always look after Magnus. You may be in love with him, but you don't know him like I do."
Malenia's expression softens. "I promise. And I intend to spend the rest of our days getting to know every part of him."
As they prepare to leave the room, there's a new understanding between the sisters. The past still lingers, but there's hope for the future – a future where they stand together, not as rivals, but as family.
The girls burst onto the balcony, their excitement palpable as they announce, "She's ready! She's ready!" Their voices echo across the gathering, drawing all eyes to the entrance.
Maeve follows, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Alright, alright, pipe down, you little harpies. She'll be here when she's here."
She takes her place opposite Magnus, smoothing down her dress with a grimace. "Well, don't you clean up nice," she quips, eyeing his attire.
Magnus grins. "You're not looking too shabby yourself, sister. The girls did a good job."
"Don't remind me," Maeve grumbles, but there's a hint of a smile on her lips.
Magnus's expression softens as he notices a glimmer in Maeve's eyes. "Maeve, are you... crying?"
"What? No!" Maeve scoffs, quickly wiping at her eyes. "It's just... allergies. To all this sappy nonsense. Now shut it, you overgrown pigeon, before I change my mind about this whole thing."
As the oracles begin to play, the atmosphere shifts, anticipation building.
Meanwhile, in the hallway, Malenia stands alone, her breathing uneven as she prepares for her entrance. Suddenly, a presence appears beside her. She turns, startled to see Godwyn.
"Godwyn? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there already?" Malenia asks, confusion evident in her voice.
Godwyn smiles warmly. "I asked Miquella if I could have the honor of walking you down the aisle."
Malenia pauses, touched by the gesture. "But... why?"
"Well," Godwyn says, his voice gentle, "your father isn't here. I thought perhaps you might settle for your eldest brother instead."
Malenia's eyes soften, and she loops her arm through his. "Godwyn, I... thank you. This means more than you know."
The music swells, and together, they step forward into the light, towards Magnus and the future that awaits them all.
As Malenia and Godwyn reach the end of the aisle, the music fades to a gentle whisper. Miquella, standing before the gathered assembly, raises his hands for silence. Despite his small stature, his presence commands attention from all present.
"Welcome, everyone," Miquella begins, his voice carrying clearly across the balcony. "We gather here today, beneath the boughs of the Haligtree, to witness a union unlike any other in the history of the Lands Between. Before us stand Malenia, the Blade of Miquella, and Magnus, the The Bright Lord - two demigods whose love has flourished even in the darkest of times."
He pauses, his gaze sweeping over the assembled guests. "For nearly a century, the war against the Frenzied Flame has consumed our lives. We have known loss, pain, and sacrifice. But today, we are reminded of what we fight for - love, hope, and the promise of a brighter future."
Miquella turns to face Magnus and Malenia directly. "Your union is more than a joining of two hearts. It is a symbol of resilience, of the enduring spirit that defines us all. In each other, you have found strength, comfort, and purpose. Today, we celebrate not just your love, but the hope it brings to us all."
The gathered crowd listens intently, many nodding in agreement. Miquella continues, "As we stand here, let us remember those who cannot be with us today, those we have lost along the way. Their memory lives on in our hearts and in our actions."
A moment of respectful silence falls over the assembly, honoring the fallen.
"Now," Miquella says, his voice taking on a more formal tone, "let us proceed with the exchange of symbols that will bind this union."
Miquella nods to Maeve, who steps forward, holding a cloth-wrapped object. "In the tradition of our lands, a consort is bestowed with a symbol of their new role and the trust placed in them. Malenia, if you would?"
Malenia turns to Maeve, their eyes meeting in a moment of understanding. Maeve carefully hands over the object, her usual sarcasm replaced by a solemn reverence for the moment.
Malenia unwraps the cloth, revealing a magnificent sword. Its blade gleams in the soft light, intricate engravings catching the eye. She turns to Magnus, holding the sword before her.
"Magnus," Malenia begins, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes, "this sword once belonged to my master. It has been my most treasured possession, a reminder of where I came from and what I fight for. Today, I entrust it to you, not just as a symbol of our union, but as a testament to the faith I place in you as my consort, my partner, and my love."
Magnus reaches out, his hands meeting Malenia's on the hilt of the sword. The moment they touch, a soft golden glow emanates from where their hands meet, as if the sword itself is blessing their union.
Miquella speaks again, "Magnus, do you accept this sword, and with it, the responsibilities and honors of being Malenia's consort?"
Magnus's voice is clear and strong as he responds, "I do, with all my heart and soul."
He takes the sword, fastening it at his waist with practiced ease. The weapon seems to fit him perfectly, as if it was always meant to be his.
Miquella then turns to Magnus. "And now, Magnus, your token for Malenia?"
Magnus reaches into a pocket of his robe and produces a ring. It's unlike anything the gathered assembly has ever seen - a band that seems to be made of pure starlight, shimmering and shifting with an otherworldly glow.
"Malenia," Magnus says, his voice filled with deep emotion, "this ring is crafted from the very essence of starlight, a symbol of the eternal nature of our love and the light we bring to each other's lives. It represents our commitment to each other and to the future we fight for. Will you wear it as a sign of our union?"
Malenia extends her hand, her eyes locked with Magnus's. "I will, now and forever."
As Magnus slips the ring onto Malenia's finger, a soft, radiant glow emanates from it, illuminating their joined hands with celestial light.
Miquella observes this with a smile before addressing the gathering once more. "These symbols have been exchanged, binding Magnus and Malenia in the sight of all present. Now, if the couple would like to speak their vows to each other?"
Miquella nods to the couple, and a hush falls over the gathering as Magnus begins:
"Malenia, in you I have found not just a partner, but a beacon of strength. Through the darkest nights and fiercest battles, your unwavering spirit has been my guiding light. I vow to stand by your side, in peace and in war, to face whatever challenges come our way. My wings, my sword, and my heart are yours, now and always."
Magnus's words, though brief, carry the weight of their shared experiences. Malenia takes a deep breath before speaking her vows:
"Magnus, you've seen me at my weakest and at my strongest, and your love has never wavered. You've taught me that true strength lies not just in victory, but in the courage to be vulnerable. I vow to be your shield, your confidant, and your equal in all things. Where you go, I go. Your battles are my battles, your triumphs, my triumphs. Together, we will forge a future worth fighting for."
Their words, spoken with quiet intensity, resonate across the balcony. The assembled guests can feel the depth of emotion and commitment behind each promise.
Miquella allows a moment for the vows to sink in before continuing the ceremony. His voice carries across the gathering, filled with warmth and authority:
"Magnus and Malenia, you have exchanged symbols of your union and spoken your vows before these witnesses. Your love, born in times of strife, stands as a testament to the enduring spirit of hope."
Miquella pauses, his gaze sweeping over the assembled guests before returning to the couple before him. His voice takes on a more formal tone as he speaks:
"Then, I, Miquella, son of Queen Marika the Eternal, and Lord of the Haligtree, pronounce you Malenia, daughter of Queen Marika the Eternal, and Lord of the Haligtree, and you Magnus, son of Queen Marika the Eternal, Lord of the Angels, as husband and wife, lords, and consorts."
A palpable sense of joy and anticipation fills the air as Miquella concludes with a smile, "You may kiss."
Magnus and Malenia turn to face each other, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared love and triumph. As they lean in for their kiss, the gathering erupts in cheers and applause. The air is filled with a sense of hope and celebration - a bright moment of joy amidst the long struggle against the darkness that threatens their world.
The newlyweds' kiss is both tender and passionate, a perfect representation of their bond. As they part, their faces are lit with radiant smiles, the love between them clear for all to see.
As the cheers subside, Magnus and Malenia find themselves at the center of a whirlwind of excitement. Their daughters, unable to contain their joy any longer, rush towards them in a flurry of laughter.
Mary, the eldest, reaches them first, her eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness. "Mother, Father," she says, her voice trembling slightly, "you both look so beautiful."
Maureen, ever the articulate one, adds, "The ceremony was perfect. Uncle Miquella did a wonderful job."
Magnus chuckles, pulling them all into a warm embrace. "And you girls did an amazing job with the preparations. We couldn't have asked for a more perfect day."
Amy, the quietest of the group, suddenly blurts out, "Are we going to have a little brother or sister soon?"
The question catches both Magnus and Malenia off guard, their faces flushing slightly. Magnus clears his throat, "Well, I... that is..."
Polyanna, ever the mischievous one, grins widely. "Oh, come on! The Haligtree could use a few more little angels running around!"
Malenia, composing herself, places a gentle hand on Polyanna's shoulder. "Let's enjoy this moment for now, shall we? The future will bring what it brings."
As the girls continue to chatter excitedly, Radahn approaches, his massive form casting a shadow over the group. His voice booms with genuine warmth, "Well, well! If it isn't the happy couple!"
Magnus turns to greet his brother, only to be caught in a bear hug that lifts him off his feet. "Radahn!" he wheezes, "Careful, you'll crumple my wings!"
Radahn sets him down with a hearty laugh. "Ah, sorry about that, brother. I forget my own strength sometimes." He turns to Malenia, bowing with surprising grace for one his size. "And you, sister. You're positively radiant today."
Malenia inclines her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Thank you, Radahn. I'm glad you could be here with us."
Radahn's expression softens, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "We've come a long way, haven't we? From bitter rivals to family. Life has a funny way of working out."
Magnus nods, his arm around Malenia's waist. "That it does, brother. That it does."
Maeve stands at the edge of the balcony, watching the interactions between Magnus, Malenia, and their daughters. A hint of a smile plays on her lips, though her eyes betray a touch of melancholy. She's so absorbed in the scene that she doesn't notice Miquella's approach until he's beside her.
"You clean up rather nicely," Miquella says, his eternally youthful face bearing a warm smile.
Maeve turns, eyebrow raised. "Not so bad yourself. Though I think your robes might be taller than you are."
Miquella chuckles. "I'll take that as a compliment. You did wonderfully today, Maeve. I know it wasn't easy for you."
"Oh?" Maeve's tone is light, but there's an edge to it. "And why's that? Worried I might object and ruin your perfectly orchestrated ceremony?"
"Not at all," Miquella replies softly. "I simply meant that I understand the complexity of your feelings. Your love for Magnus, your history with Malenia... it can't have been simple to navigate."
Maeve studies him for a moment, her red eyes narrowing slightly. "My, my, Miquella. Is this your way of flirting with me again?"
Miquella's eyes widen, and he begins to stammer, "I... that's not... I mean..."
Maeve rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in her voice. "Oh, relax. I'm just teasing you." She pauses, then adds with a sly grin, "Though you might want to break out that special brew of yours again tonight. I have a feeling we could all use a drink."
Miquella composes himself, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Who says I haven't already? The night is young, after all."
As they share a conspiratorial smile, the oracles begin to play again, their music filling the air with a joyous melody. Around them, guests begin to mingle more freely, the formal atmosphere of the ceremony giving way to celebration.
As the celebration continues around them, Magnus and Malenia find a quiet moment together, stepping away from the crowd to a secluded corner of the balcony. The soft glow of lanterns casts a warm light on their faces as they lean against the railing, looking out over the Haligtree.
Magnus breaks the comfortable silence first, his voice low. "The girls seemed excited about the prospect of a new sibling."
Malenia tenses slightly, her golden eyes clouding with a mix of emotions. "Yes, they did. I... I don't think they realized the weight of what they were asking."
Magnus nods, gently taking her hand in his. "The loss of Rhaegon is still fresh. I don't think they meant to upset us."
"No, of course not," Malenia agrees, her voice barely above a whisper. "It just... caught me off guard. I wasn't prepared for that question today."
They stand in silence for a moment, both lost in thoughts of what might have been. Magnus speaks again, his tone careful. "Malenia, I... I've been thinking. About the future, about family."
Malenia turns to face him, her expression a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Oh?"
Magnus takes a deep breath. "I know it hasn't been long, and the pain is still there. But... I would like to have more children with you, someday. When you're ready."
Malenia's grip on his hand tightens. "Magnus, I... I'm afraid," she admits, vulnerability clear in her voice. "What if something goes wrong again? What if the Frenzied Flame..."
"Hey," Magnus says softly, cupping her cheek with his free hand. "We don't have to decide anything now. I just wanted you to know how I feel."
Malenia leans into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opens them again, there's a hint of determination in her gaze. "Perhaps... perhaps we could discuss it more in the future. For now, maybe we should focus on keeping things... safe."
Magnus nods, understanding the unspoken meaning in her words. "Of course. There's no rush, Malenia. We have time."
They share a tender kiss, reaffirming their bond and their shared hopes for the future. As they pull apart, Malenia offers a small smile. "For now, let's enjoy this moment. Our family, our friends... this celebration of our love."
Magnus returns her smile, his wings unfurling slightly to wrap around her in a protective embrace. "Agreed. Shall we rejoin our guests, my love?"
Hand in hand, they turn back to the gathering, their hearts lighter for having shared their thoughts and fears. The future may be uncertain, but they face it together, stronger for the bond they share.
The five weeks following Magnus and Malenia's wedding pass in a flurry of activity, the joy of their union giving way to the pressing realities of the impending threat.
Gaius and Loretta's return in the second week brought mixed news. Mt. Gelmir, while viable as a potential stronghold, remains unstable. Their report added another layer of complexity to the already challenging strategic landscape.
Meanwhile, Radahn, Messmer, and Melina's extended mission to Liurnia keeps them away for most of this period.
Throughout this time, Magnus and Maeve take charge of the archangels, leading scouting parties to monitor the ominous progress of Leyndell's landmass as it inches back towards the Lands Between. Each report they bring back underscores the urgency of their preparations, yet also confirms that there is still time - precious time they cannot afford to waste.
Godwyn, embracing his role as a leader, orchestrates a vast network of outreach. Commanders, warriors, scouts, and messengers are dispatched across the lands, carrying word of the Frenzied Flame's imminent return and the demigods' call to arms. His strategy proves effective, as reports begin to filter in of diverse groups rallying to their cause.
The response is heartening. Warriors from every corner of the Lands Between make their way to the Haligtree, the forward base in Altus, or gather in Liurnia. The diversity of those answering the call is staggering, seasoned knights and wandering warriors, their armor gleaming with purpose. Exiles returning from self-imposed banishment, seeking redemption. Erdtree Guardians, their loyalty to the old ways now turned to this new cause. Ancestral Followers, emerging from their secluded forests. Golems and trolls, their heavy footsteps shaking the earth as they march. Albinaurics, both young and old generations, united in their determination. Demi-humans, setting aside old grievances to join the fight. Omens and Misbegotten, finding acceptance and purpose in this diverse army. Even spirits, unable to rest while their world faces such peril, join the ranks.
The Haligtree buzzes with activity as this motley array of allies arrives. The forward base in Altus becomes a hub of strategic planning and training. Reports from Liurnia speak of similar gatherings, the once-fractured lands finding unity in the face of a common threat.
As the demigods oversee this unprecedented coalition, there's a palpable sense of hope mixed with trepidation. The sheer number and diversity of those answering their call are encouraging, but the challenge ahead remains daunting.
The demigods gather in the war room, curiosity and anticipation evident on their faces. Magnus and Miquella stand at the head of the table, their expressions serious yet tinged with excitement.
As Magnus and Miquella begin to explain, the room falls into a hushed silence. Miquella's voice carries a hint of amusement as he starts, "Believe it or not, this all began during a rather... inebriated evening at Stormcaller."
Maeve snorts, "Why am I not surprised? Leave it to Magnus to come up with world-changing ideas while drunk."
Magnus raises an eyebrow, "I'll take that as a compliment, sister."
Miquella continues, "As we all know, unalloyed gold has the unique property of warding off the influence of outer gods. It's not dissimilar to the power of grace that the Greater Will once bestowed."
Godwyn nods, "Yes, we've seen its effectiveness firsthand. But where are you going with this?"
Magnus takes over, "Think back to when I returned and sought out the Divine Towers. The goal was to rekindle some semblance of grace in the Lands Between."
Malenia's eyes light up with understanding, "And then it became about reviving us, the demigods."
"Exactly," Miquella confirms. "Our souls, bound to the towers, could be restored. But here's where it gets interesting."
The room leans in, anticipation palpable. Magnus's voice is steady as he delivers the crux of their plan, "With the Greater Will gone, what if we replaced the power of grace in the Divine Towers with unalloyed gold?"
A collective gasp echoes through the room. Radahn's eyes widen, "By the stars... you mean to..."
Miquella nods, "Yes. The towers would spread the influence of unalloyed gold across the entire Lands Between."
"Shielding our world from the influence of any outer god," Melina whispers, awe in her voice.
The room erupts into excited chatter. Messmer's usually calm demeanor breaks as he exclaims, "The implications are staggering! The protection it could offer...But is it even possible? The scale of it..."
Miquella smiles, "That's where my expertise came in. Magnus had the initial idea, I merely helped refine it and make it feasible."
Magnus shakes his head, "Don't sell yourself short, brother. Without your knowledge, this would have remained a drunken fantasy."
Godwyn, ever the pragmatist, raises a hand, "This is incredible, truly. But surely there must be challenges"
Miquella and Magnus exchange a glance before Magnus speaks, "Actually, we've already placed unalloyed gold at all the towers."
The room falls silent once more, shock evident on every face.
Malenia finds her voice first, "You've... you've already done it? Without telling us?"
Magnus holds up a hand, "Not quite. We've laid the groundwork, yes. But there's one final step..."
The demigods lean in, hanging on every word as Magnus and Miquella prepare to reveal the last piece of their audacious plan.
Miquella takes a deep breath, his youthful face bearing the weight of ages as he continues, "The power of grace was first bestowed upon our mother when she ascended to godhood. However, it didn't spread across the Lands Between until she gave rise to the Erdtree."
Godwyn's eyes widen with understanding. "The connection between Mother and the Erdtree... it was the conduit for grace."
"Precisely," Miquella nods. "Our mother and the heart of the Erdtree are inextricably linked. To rekindle the towers with this new power, the two must be reunited."
A heavy silence falls over the room as the implications sink in. Radahn is the first to voice what they're all thinking, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, "Then we can no longer hope for a purely defensive battle against the Frenzied Flame."
Maeve's eyes narrow, a fierce light in them. "We must take the fight to them. Lay siege to the capital itself."
Magnus interrupts "That's not entirely true. We could still find somewhere to defend or lure the Frenzied flame. If the lord did come to us and not just his forces that is. Then we could enter the capital and the husk of the Erdtree to perform the deed."
Malenia turns to Magnus and Miquella, her voice tinged with confusion and a hint of hope, "But how is this even possible? Mother is... she's gone."
Magnus steps forward, his golden eyes meeting each of his siblings in turn. "Not entirely," he says softly. "A part of her lives on... within me."
Gasps and murmurs fill the room. Melina leans forward, her mismatched eyes intense. "How?"
"During the time she spent as a spirit, resting and guiding me on my journey," Magnus explains, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "When she passed, her grace... it found a home within me. I believe in the end, she knew we would need it."
Miquella picks up the thread, "We believe Magnus could act as a stand-in for Mother, rekindling the towers and spreading the protective power of the unalloyed gold."
The room erupts into a cacophony of voices, questions and exclamations overlapping
"Is it safe?" Malenia demands, concern evident in her voice.
"The power required... it's immense," Messmer muses, his analytical mind already at work.
"To think, a part of Mother lives on..." Godwyn's voice is thick with emotion.
Maeve, her usual sarcasm replaced by genuine worry, asks, "And what happens to you, brother? What's the cost?"
Magnus raises a hand, silencing the room. "We don't know all the answers yet. But we do know this: it's our best chance at protecting the Lands Between from not just the Frenzied Flame, but any outer god that might seek to exert its will upon our world."
Miquella nods solemnly. "It's a risk, yes. But one we believe is worth taking."
The demigods exchange glances, the weight of this revelation settling over them. They've faced countless challenges, but this... this could change everything.
Godwyn, ever the leader, straightens his shoulders. "Then we have much to discuss. If we're to lay siege to the capital, we'll need a plan unlike any we've made before."
As the room buzzes with renewed purpose, the enormity of their task looms before them. Yet there's a spark of hope, a chance not just to defeat the Frenzied Flame, but to safeguard their world for generations to come.
Magnus takes a deep breath, his eyes sweeping across the room before he speaks. "While I've come to accept the guidance of these white feathers and the future version of myself they seem to represent, I believe we should still try to chart our own course where we can."
"In the vision I received," Magnus continues, his voice steady, "I saw only myself, Godwyn, and Morana in Farum Azula. But I think we should expand our party."
Godwyn leans forward, interest piqued. "Who do you suggest, brother?"
Magnus meets Maeve's eyes briefly before answering. "I believe Maeve and Lansseax should join us."
Maeve raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk on her face. Magnus knows she's aware he's hiding something, but he keeps his reasoning to himself, planning to confide in her later.
"Lansseax is an obvious choice," Radahn nods. "Farum Azula is her home, after all."
Magnus agrees, "Yes, her knowledge will be invaluable. And Maeve..." he pauses, choosing his words carefully, "her unique perspective could prove crucial."
Malenia steps forward, her voice soft but tinged with concern. "And why not me, Magnus? Surely I could be of help on this journey."
Magnus turns to her, his expression softening. "Malenia, I believe you'd be of more use here, helping Miquella with the Haligtree."
Godwyn, sensing the potential for tension, speaks up. "I agree with Magnus's choices. And while we're gone, Radahn and Messmer could begin planning an offensive strategy against Leyndell. We'll need to be prepared on all fronts."
As the group begins to disperse, each with their own tasks to focus on, the air is thick with anticipation and a touch of apprehension. The journey to Farum Azula looms before them, promising answers but also unknown dangers.
Maeve catches Magnus's eye as she leaves, her look clearly saying, "You and I are going to have a long talk, brother." Magnus nods almost imperceptibly, knowing that the time for secrets is coming to an end.
Magnus gestures for Malenia and Godwyn to join him and Maeve. As Miquella leads Morana and Melina away, the four gather in the war room, tension palpable in the air.
Magnus takes a deep breath. "There's more to the vision I saw. Something I didn't mention earlier."
Godwyn leans in, concern etched on his face. "What is it, Magnus?"
"I saw... I saw Godwyn and myself fighting Morana in Farum Azula."
Malenia's eyes widen. "Fighting her? But why?"
Magnus shakes his head, frustration evident. "I don't know why. But I could feel her rage. She was trying to kill us."
Malenia's voice is firm. "Then she can't be allowed to come. It's too dangerous."
"I thought the same at first," Magnus admits. "But how do we explain that to her? Returning to Farum Azula, to the Dragonlord... it's all she wants."
Maeve interjects, her tone sharp. "Hold on. Didn't you just say we should chart our own course? Now you're trying to fulfill this part of the vision?"
Magnus nods, a bitter smile on his face. "You're right. I did say that."
The others exchange confused glances.
Godwyn speaks up. "I don't understand, Magnus. What are you saying?"
Magnus runs a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. "I'm saying I don't know what to do or what to believe anymore! These visions, these damn feathers... I've hated themsince they showed up."
Malenia reaches out to comfort him, but he continues, his voice rising.
"Everyone talks about how it's me guiding us, some future version of myself. But what if it's guiding us to failure? To loss and tragedy?"
Maeve's eyes narrow. "It led to my death."
Magnus nods vigorously. "Exactly! And now it's led Morana to us, and here we are discussing betraying her - our own grandmother!"
Godwyn tries to calm him. "Magnus, perhaps we should-"
But Magnus cuts him off, his words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. "No, Godwyn. You don't understand. I've always followed my heart, always trusted my instincts. But now? Now I can feel fate's hold on me, and I hate it. I hate every second of it."
He slams his fist on the table, causing the others to jump. "These visions, they're a curse. They show us glimpses of a future we might not want, yet we find ourselves walking right into them. How do we know we're not being manipulated? How do we know this 'future me' isn't leading us astray?"
The room falls silent, the weight of Magnus's words hanging heavy in the air. His siblings exchange worried glances, unsure of how to respond to this uncharacteristic outburst.
Magnus takes a shaky breath, his voice quieter now but still filled with tension. "I don't know what to do. I don't know if we should follow the vision or fight against it. And that uncertainty... it's tearing me apart."
Godwyn's expression softens as he realizes the depth of his brother's distress. He places a comforting hand on Magnus's shoulder. "I see your struggle, brother. You've carried this burden for too long."
Magnus looks up, his eyes searching Godwyn's face for reassurance.
Godwyn continues, his voice steady and calm. "I believe we should proceed as planned. When the time comes, perhaps we can convince Morana to choose peace. We don't have to let this vision dictate our actions entirely."
Magnus sighs, some of the tension leaving his body. "You're right, Godwyn. Thank you."
Maeve nods, her usual sharp tone softened slightly. "I'll stick close to Morana when we go. Keep an eye on things."
She turns to Godwyn. "You should tell Lansseax about this. She needs to know what we might be walking into."
Godwyn agrees. "Yes, I'll speak with her privately before we leave."
As the conversation winds down, Magnus and Malenia's eyes meet. The unspoken tension between them is palpable.
Magnus breaks the silence, his voice heavy with regret. "Malenia, I... I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Everything's been happening so fast, and part of me..." He pauses, struggling to find the words.
Malenia's gaze softens. "Part of you what, Magnus?"
He sighs deeply. "Part of me hoped we'd never reach Farum Azula. That somehow, we could avoid this confrontation altogether."
Malenia steps closer, taking his hand in hers. "I understand. But we're in this together, remember? No more secrets between us."
Magnus nods, squeezing her hand. "No more secrets. I promise."
Godwyn breaks the silence. "We should prepare for our departure. Whatever awaits us in Farum Azula, we'll face it together."
As the group gathers before the Heart of the Haligtree, a somber atmosphere settles over them. Magnus stands still, his gaze fixed on the base of the tree where the roots have grown thick over Rhaegon's resting place. His eyes betray a mix of sorrow and determination.
Maeve approaches him, her touch on his arm gentle but insistent. "Magnus, we're ready," she says softly, understanding in her eyes.
He nods, tearing his gaze away from the spot. They turn to face the others, who are gathered around Melina as she prepares to open the portal.
Miquella stands beside Melina, his hand on her shoulder, lending her strength. The air crackles with energy as she summons the portal to Farum Azula. A swirling vortex of blues and purples materializes before them.
Melina's voice is strained as she speaks, "Hurry, I'm not sure how long I can maintain it."
Lansseax steps forward first, as she enters the portal without hesitation.
Morana follows, her ancient eyes gleaming with anticipation of returning to her long-lost home.
Maeve and Godwyn exchange a meaningful glance. There's a weight to their look, an understanding of the potential danger that awaits. Maeve takes a deep breath and steps through after Morana.
Godwyn turns to Magnus, giving him a resolute nod. "Together, brother," he says quietly.
Magnus moves towards the portal but is stopped by Malenia's hand on his arm. Her golden eyes meet his, filled with concern and love. "Be careful," she whispers.
Magnus offers her a smile, a mixture of reassurance and determination. Without a word, he steps into the swirling vortex.
As the portal closes behind them, Malenia turns to face the remaining siblings. Her expression is grave, her voice low and urgent.
"There is something you all must know," she begins, her words heavy with the weight of secrets, "concerning our grandmother and the vision Magnus received..."
The others lean in, to hear the truth that has been hidden from them.
Chapter 93: Farum Azula Notes: Check out the discord server: /k9rQSfsD
Also please follow or like my socials, where I will soon be posting my original /PDRobinson0711?t=dbX-wd0lVp8cVVDHTDvpcw =09
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JUST DO IT!
Chapter Text The tension in the Haligtree's grand chamber was immense as Malenia finished recounting Magnus's vision. Miquella's usual calm demeanor cracked, his childlike face contorting with a mix of hurt and anger.
"How could he keep this from us?" Miquella's voice trembled. "I thought... I thought Magnus trusted me. Trusted us."
Radahn shifted uncomfortably, his massive form casting a shadow over the others. Before he could speak, Messmer's rage erupted.
"I knew it," he snarled, his serpent companions hissing in response to his agitation. "I knew we couldn't trust Morana. My instincts were right all along."
Melina stepped forward, her heterochromatic eyes flickering with concern. "Messmer, please. We don't have all the facts yet. Morana may have-"
Messmer rounded on her, his golden eyes blazing. "Why would you defend her? She manipulated you, Melina. Used you like a pawn in her games. How can you stand there and-"
His words died in his throat as Melina fixed him with an icy stare. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, and Messmer immediately regretted his outburst.
"I... forgive me, Melina. That was uncalled for," he mumbled, averting his gaze.
Miquella approached Malenia, his brilliant mind already racing with possibilities and consequences. "Sister, when did you learn of this?"
Malenia's restored golden eyes met her twin's gaze. "Not long ago, brother. Magnus... he struggled with how to share this information."
Miquella's frustration grew, his small hands clenching into fists. "This could cause untold problems. What do we intend to do about our... grandmother?" The word felt foreign on his tongue.
"Maeve said she would keep a close eye on her," Malenia replied, her voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.
Miquella's eyes widened, a hint of panic creeping into his voice. "Maeve? But that could put her at even greater risk!" His concern for Maeve was evident, though the others remained oblivious to the growing closeness between them.
Malenia placed a comforting hand on her brother's shoulder. "I understand your concern, Miquella. I'm worried as well. But Maeve is strong, and she possesses the Rune of Death. She can handle herself."
"Malenia's right," Radahn rumbled, speaking for the first time. "Maeve is no helpless maiden. She's as fierce as any of us."
Messmer, still smarting from his exchange with Melina, nodded in agreement with Miquella. "Regardless of Maeve's capabilities, Magnus should have informed us all sooner. We're stronger together, and secrets like this... they can tear us apart."
The group fell into an uneasy silence, each wrestling with their own thoughts and fears about the challenges that lay ahead.
Malenia raised her hand, trying to quell the rising tension. "Please, everyone. I understand your frustration, but Magnus-"
"Frustration?" Miquella interrupted, his voice sharp. "This goes beyond mere frustration, sister. This is a betrayal of trust."
Messmer nodded vigorously. "Exactly. How can we hope to face these threats if we're keeping secrets from each other?"
Malenia felt a pang of guilt, knowing she agreed with them to some extent. Still, she pressed on. "Magnus was trying to protect us. He-"
"Protect us?" Miquella scoffed. "By leaving us in the dark? That's not protection, that's-"
"ENOUGH!" Radahn's thunderous voice silenced the room, the very walls of the Haligtree seeming to tremble. All eyes turned to the towering warrior.
Radahn's gaze swept over each of them before he spoke, his tone measured but firm. "We cannot afford to bicker amongst ourselves. Not now. Our siblings and Lansseax have embarked on a perilous journey, while we have our own tasks to focus on."
He paused, his expression softening slightly. "I may not be as close to Magnus in the same ways as some of you, but aside from Malenia and Maeve, I've known him the longest. Magnus... he was a truer brother to me than Rykard ever was, even before his fall to blasphemy."
Malenia felt a surge of gratitude towards Radahn, seeing the others begin to calm as he continued.
"Magnus is one to always do what he feels is right and follow his heart," Radahn said, his voice filled with conviction. "He would never willingly put any of us in danger. Perhaps... perhaps he was simply overwhelmed and did not wish to burden the rest of us unless absolutely necessary."
A heavy silence fell over the group as they considered Radahn's words. Malenia's thoughts raced, torn between her loyalty to Magnus and her understanding of her siblings' concerns. She knew that when Magnus returned, there would be much to discuss, but for now, Radahn was right. They needed to focus on the tasks at hand and trust in the bond that united them all.
Radahn's gaze grew distant as he continued, his voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and gratitude. "When we faced Rykard, I... I couldn't bring myself to strike down my corrupted brother. But Magnus, he took that burden upon himself. He's shouldered so many burdens of late."
The Starscourge turned slightly, gesturing towards the roots behind Malenia. No one needed to look; they all knew what lay there, and the weight of that knowledge hung heavy in the air.
Miquella's expression softened, guilt creeping into his features as he realized the truth in Radahn's words. "Perhaps... perhaps we have tried to put too much on Magnus," he admitted quietly.
His eyes found Malenia, and he saw the pain she was trying so hard to conceal. The loss of Rhaegon was still raw, and yet his sister stood there, attempting to remain strong for all of them. The sight made Miquella's heart ache.
Taking a deep breath, Miquella turned back to Radahn. "You're right," he said, his voice steady and resolved. "We should focus on our tasks. There will be time for... for everything else later."
The others nodded in agreement, the tension in the room dissipating as they prepared to depart. As they filed out, Malenia approached Radahn, her golden eyes meeting his.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice carrying a depth of emotion that went beyond the simple words. "For your support, and for reminding us of what truly matters."
Radahn nodded, a faint smile crossing his face. "We're family," he replied. "All of us. And that means standing together, even when it's difficult."
The group stood in silent awe as they emerged from the portal, their eyes taking in the crumbling majesty of Farum Azula. The floating city, once a pinnacle of draconic might and divine rule, now hung suspended in the sky, its ancient stones weathered by the relentless passage of time.
Magnus's golden eyes widened as he surveyed the scene before him. "By the Erdtree," he whispered, his wings rustling softly in the wind. "I've heard tales, but to see it with my own eyes..."
Godwyn nodded solemnly, his newly resurrected form tensing at the sight. "It's a testament to the impermanence of even the mightiest of kingdoms," he mused.
Morana and Lansseax stood apart from the others, their faces etched with a profound sadness. Lansseax's dragon horns seemed to droop as she gazed upon her birthplace, while Morana's heterochromatic eyes glistened with unshed tears.
"It was beautiful once," Lansseax said softly, her voice barely audible above the distant rumble of the storm. "The towers gleamed like polished bronze, and the sky was alive with the wings of our kin."
Morana placed a comforting hand on Lansseax's shoulder. "Yes, it was," she agreed, her voice heavy with memory. "And now... now it stands as a reminder of all we've lost."
The group's attention was drawn to the swirling vortex at the heart of the floating city. The storm raged with an otherworldly fury, clouds of lightning and temporal distortion whirling in a mesmerizing dance.
Magnus stepped forward, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Is that where we'll find him? Placidusax?" he asked, turning to Lansseax for confirmation.
The ancient dragon nodded, her silver hair catching the strange light. "Yes, it is there that the Dragonlord retreated, beyond the veil of time itself."
As the group prepared to move towards the storm, Morana held up a hand, her expression grave. "Wait," she cautioned. "The storm is not to be trifled with. It does not suffer intruders lightly, especially those who dare to approach by air."
Maeve, her crimson hair whipping in the wind, raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you know that?" she asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.
Morana turned to face her granddaughter, her mismatched eyes reflecting both wisdom and pain. "Because, child, that place—that realm beyond time—was once my domain. In the age when I was the vessel of the Elden Ring, it was from there that I ruled alongside Placidusax." She paused, her gaze drifting back to the storm. "And it was I who helped forge that tempest, to guard against those who would seek to usurp our power."
The others exchanged glances, the weight of Morana's words settling over them. Godwyn was the first to speak. "Then how are we to reach Placidusax? Surely there must be a way."
Morana nodded slowly. "There is, but it requires a specific process—a ritual of sorts. To enter the storm and pass into the realm of time where the Dragonlord resides"
Magnus stepped closer to Morana, his expression determined. "Tell us what we need to do. We've come too far to turn back now."
Morana began to explain the intricacies of the ritual that would allow them to breach the temporal barrier. The journey to Farum Azula had been just the beginning; the true test lay ahead, beyond the swirling golden storm that guarded the secrets of a bygone age.
As they traversed the crumbling pathways of Farum Azula, the group encountered packs of feral beastmen. Once loyal servants to the dragons, these creatures had devolved into savage beings, their eyes gleaming with primal fury.
Godwyn's greatsword clashed against crude weapons as he fended off a particularly large beastman. "They've fallen so far," he grunted, pushing back his attacker.
Magnus's wings flared as he dodged a flurry of claws, his own sword flashing in the strange light. "It's as if all reason has left them," he observed, his voice tinged with sadness.
As they pressed on, leaving the defeated beastmen behind, Magnus turned to Morana. "What of Placidusax? Will he aid us in our cause?"
Morana's expression tightened, her mismatched eyes distant. "I... I cannot say with certainty. The Dragonlord I knew valued strength above all else. And now..." She glanced down at her hands. "I am no longer the god I once was."
Lansseax nodded solemnly, her gaze meeting Godwyn's. "It is as she says. The dragons' allegiance is not given lightly. It is why my brother and I followed Gransax against Leyndell. We saw strength and purpose in his cause."
Maeve's eyes narrowed, a cold determination settling over her features. "Placidusax will have to cooperate," she stated flatly. "Miquella's plan requires the power of time. We cannot leave empty-handed."
Morana turned sharply, sensing the underlying threat in Maeve's tone. "And what do you intend, child, should Placidusax refuse?"
A dark smile played at the corners of Maeve's lips. "I'm the Lord of Death for a reason," she replied, her voice low and dangerous.
The temperature seemed to drop as Morana fixed Maeve with an icy stare. "You would do well to remember, young one, that I was the original wielder of Destined Death. Do not presume to threaten powers beyond your understanding."
The tension between them crackled like the distant lightning, causing Magnus to step between them. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he said, his calming aura radiating outward. "We don't know what awaits us. Our priority should be reaching Placidusax first."
Godwyn nodded in agreement. "Magnus is right. We must remain united if we hope to succeed."
As they continued their journey through the ruins of Farum Azula, the group fell into an uneasy silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the challenges that lay ahead and the uncertain reunion with the Dragonlord Placidusax.
The tension between Maeve and Morana continued to simmer as they made their way through the ruins. Maeve, unable to contain her disdain, sneered, "You may have been the original wielder, until you got beat by a dog."
Morana's eyes flashed dangerously. "Maliketh was far more than a mere dog, child. You speak of things you do not understand."
Maeve's hand tightened on the hilt of her sword, her knuckles turning white. The weight of Magnus's vision pressed heavily on her mind, fueling her desire to strike Morana down where she stood. But as she caught her brother's gaze, she felt the familiar calming influence wash over her. With great effort, she relaxed her grip, though her eyes remained fixed on Morana.
The group entered a vast chamber, its high ceiling lost in shadow. Morana suddenly halted, turning to face them with a solemn expression. "Before we go further, I must speak plainly," she began, her voice echoing in the cavernous space.
"I understand your desire to save your world. Truly, I do. And part of me yearns to aid you in this noble quest." She paused, her eyes sweeping over each of them. "But you must understand - I'm finally home. After eons of exile and loss, I stand once more in the realm I once ruled."
Magnus stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "What are you saying, Morana?"
She sighed deeply. "I'm saying that I don't know if Placidusax will agree to help. But if he refuses... I ask that you allow us to remain here in peace."
Lansseax's eyes widened in disbelief. "Peace? How can you speak of peace when the Frenzied Flame threatens all existence? Surely it will reach Farum Azula eventually."
Morana shook her head slowly. "I do not know what the future holds, Lansseax. But I doubt Placidusax will concern himself with it. He always maintained that the problems of mortals were just that - mortal problems."
Godwyn frowned, his voice tinged with disappointment. "So you would abandon the world to its fate? After all we've been through?"
"I'm not abandoning anything," Morana replied sharply. "I'm simply... preparing you for the possibility that Placidusax may not be the ally you seek."
Magnus stepped between them, his wings slightly spread as if to shield both sides from conflict. "Let's not jump to conclusions. We came here with a purpose, and we should see it through. Whatever Placidusax decides, we'll face it together."
Maeve, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke. "And if he refuses?" Her voice was low, dangerous.
Magnus turned to his sister, his golden eyes meeting her red ones. "Then we'll find another way. We always do."
As the group pressed on, Godwyn gently pulled Magnus back, allowing the others to move ahead slightly. The two brothers walked side by side, their voices low.
"Magnus," Godwyn began, his tone serious, "I need you to understand something. I believe in Miquella's plan. If he says that mastery over time is crucial to perfecting the unalloyed gold, then we must acquire that power. No matter the cost."
Magnus's golden eyes widened, a look of concern crossing his features. "Godwyn, you can't mean... We can't force this. It's our grandmother. It's wrong."
Godwyn nodded solemnly. "I know, brother. I agree that it feels wrong. But consider the alternative. Would it not be even more unethical to condemn our entire world to an endless cycle of manipulation and warfare at the hands of the Outer Gods?"
Magnus fell silent, his internal struggle evident on his face. He knew Godwyn's words held truth, yet the idea of potentially betraying Morana gnawed at him. "I... I understand the logic," he admitted reluctantly. "But it doesn't sit right with me."
Godwyn placed a comforting hand on Magnus's shoulder. "It may not come to that. Perhaps Placidusax will see reason. Perhaps Morana will convince him. We must hope for the best."
Magnus shook his head, his wings rustling uneasily. "I wish I shared your optimism, brother. But I can't shake this feeling... I fear this will not end well."
"Your instincts have served us before," Godwyn acknowledged. "But we must press on. The fate of the Lands Between hangs in the balance."
The brothers caught up with the group, exchanging a knowing glance as they continued their journey deeper into the heart of Farum Azula, the distant rumble of the time storm growing ever louder.
The group entered a vast chamber, its ancient walls adorned with faded draconic symbols. Their steps echoed in the cavernous space until they were suddenly confronted by two imposing Godskin figures. The air tensed as the others prepared for battle, but to their astonishment, the Godskins halted their advance upon seeing Morana.
In eerie silence, the two figures sank to their knees, heads bowed in unmistakable obeisance to their former queen. The sight sent a ripple of surprise through the group.
Lansseax's voice broke the tense quiet. "I... I thought they had all turned against you when the Monarch usurped your throne."
Morana's gaze remained fixed on the kneeling Godskins, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she raised her hand, summoning a swirling vortex of Destined Death. The power crackled and surged, engulfing the Godskins in a maelstrom of annihilation. In moments, nothing remained of them but wisps of dark energy.
The abrupt and vicious display left the others momentarily stunned. Maeve was the first to recover, a grim smile playing on her lips. "Good riddance. I've never met a Godskin I didn't despise."
Magnus remained silent, but his tightened jaw and clenched fists spoke volumes. The memory of his and Malenia's death at the hands of the Godskin Monarch, and the curse inflicted upon Millicent, fueled a deep-seated anger within him.
Lansseax, however, looked troubled. "Morana... why? I thought you considered the Godskins your children in a way."
Morana's shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of ages seeming to press down upon her. "In a way, I did," she admitted, her voice tinged with regret. "I created them, gave them purpose. But in doing so, I failed my true child - Marika."
She turned to face her grandchildren, her mismatched eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions - sorrow, regret, and a flicker of something that might have been hope. Without another word, she gestured for them to follow and continued deeper into Farum Azula.
The distant rumble of the time storm grew louder, a constant reminder of the power they sought and the uncertain consequences that awaited them.
As they approached the swirling tempest, Morana's voice took on a solemn tone. "To enter the realm of timelessness, we must surrender ourselves to the storm," she explained. "Lie down in these burial mounds, and allow the tempest to consume you. It will transport us to the heart, where Placidusax awaits."
The group exchanged uneasy glances but began to follow her instructions. As they prepared, Magnus reached out to Maeve telepathically, his mental voice tinged with concern. "Be on your guard, sister. Remember my vision. We can't trust Morana entirely."
Maeve's eyes narrowed slightly in acknowledgment as Magnus and Godwyn positioned themselves in the ancient burial mounds. The others watched as the storm's tendrils began to wrap around the two brothers, their forms slowly disappearing into the maelstrom of golden energy.
Before the rest could follow suit, a bone-chilling roar split the air. Three massive shapes burst through the clouds – ancient dragons, their scales gleaming with primordial power. In a blur of motion, two of them swooped down, one snatching Morana while the other grasped at Lansseax.
Lansseax, however, was not so easily captured. Mid-flight, her form shimmered and expanded, transforming into her true draconic shape. With a roar of her own, she engaged the two dragons, her silver scales flashing as she twisted and fought in the turbulent sky.
The third dragon, clutching Morana in its claws, began to veer away from the battle. Without hesitation, Maeve spread her dark wings and launched herself into the air, her crimson hair whipping in the wind as she pursued the fleeing dragon.
As Maeve raced after the dragon carrying Morana, her mind raced with possibilities. Was this a planned abduction? A rescue? Or something else entirely? With Magnus's warning fresh in her mind, she pressed on, determined to uncover the truth and, if necessary, put an end to any threat to their mission – no matter the cost.
Maeve's dark wings beat furiously against the turbulent air as she pursued the dragon carrying Morana.
Meanwhile, Lansseax found herself locked in fierce combat with the two remaining dragons. Their massive forms crashed onto nearby structures, sending ancient stonework crumbling to the depths below. As they regained their footing, Lansseax demanded answers, her voice a mix of anger and confusion.
"Why do you attack us? What madness is this?"
Her question was answered by the sight of their eyes, burning with the telltale signs of the Frenzied Flame. Understanding dawned on her face, quickly replaced by grim resolve. As her former kin charged at her, consumed by chaotic fury, Lansseax steeled herself for battle. "Forgive me, brothers," she whispered before meeting their assault with equal ferocity.
Elsewhere, Morana found herself plummeting through the air as the dragon that had snatched her suddenly released its grip. She had seen the Frenzied Flame in its eyes and reacted instinctively, unleashing a powerful blast of black flame that forced the creature to let go. As she fell, she managed to direct her descent towards a cluster of nearby buildings.
Landing hard amidst the crumbling architecture, Morana quickly took in her surroundings. The scene before her was one of chaos – banished knights and beastmen locked in combat, friend turning against friend as the influence of the Frenzied Flame spread. Those afflicted fought with manic intensity, their eyes burning with the same madness she had seen in the dragon.
As she steadied herself, preparing to face whatever threat came next, Morana's mind raced. The Frenzied Flame's presence here, in Farum Azula, was an ominous sign. Its influence had spread further and faster than any of them had anticipated.
Maeve swooped down from the sky, her dark wings folding as she landed beside Morana. Without a word, the two women stood back-to-back, facing the onslaught of frenzied enemies.
"Fancy meeting you here, grandmother," Maeve quipped, her sword already slick with blood.
Morana's response was a blast of black flame that incinerated an approaching beastman. "Less talking, more fighting, child."
They moved in deadly synchronization, Maeve's blade singing through the air as Morana's incantations devastated their foes. Frenzied knights fell before Maeve's relentless assault, while beastmen were reduced to ash by Morana's dark powers.
"You fight well for someone who's been out of practice," Maeve remarked, parrying a knight's sword.
Morana's eyes flashed dangerously. "You'd do well to remember that I've forgotten more about combat than you'll ever know."
Their banter was cut short as the dragon they had escaped earlier circled back, its massive form casting a shadow over the battlefield. It landed with a thunderous crash, scattering the remaining fighters.
Maeve and Morana looked up, prepared to do battle.
Magnus and Godwyn found themselves in a vast, ethereal arena, the heart of the time storm swirling around them. At its center, suspended in mid-air, was the majestic form of Dragonlord Placidusax. Even in repose, the ancient dragon radiated power and authority.
As they observed the sleeping dragon, Magnus's eyes widened in recognition. "Godwyn," he whispered, "this must be what Florissax spoke of - the wounds inflicted by Bayle the Dread in their ancient battle."
The Dragonlord's form bore the scars of that legendary conflict - missing heads, tattered wings, and deep gouges across his golden scales. Yet even in this damaged state, Placidusax was a sight to behold.
Godwyn nodded solemnly. "We should approach, but with caution."
As they took a step forward, Placidusax stirred. His remaining eyes flickered open, burning with ancient wisdom and power. The great dragon unfurled his wings, descending to the ground with a thunderous impact that shook the very fabric of the timeless realm.
Placidusax reared up, letting out a roar that reverberated through their very beings. Magnus and Godwyn stood their ground, resisting the urge to draw their weapons.
The Dragonlord's voice, when it came, was like the rumbling of tectonic plates, laden with the weight of eons:
"Who darest disturb mine slumber? Speak, ye intruders, for thou standest in the realm of time's heart." His eyes narrowed, studying the brothers with ancient cunning. "What bringest thee to this sanctuary of ages past? Thy presence here bespeaks of dire purpose or foolish trespass. Declare thy intent, lest the wrath of dragonkind fall upon thee."
Magnus stepped forward, his voice steady despite the palpable tension. "Great Dragonlord, we are the sons of Marika, but we come not as her agents, but as seekers of aid."
At the mention of Marika's name, Placidusax's eyes flared with ancient fury. His voice boomed, shaking the very foundations of the timeless realm:
"Marika? The name of the usurper echoes in mine ears! She, chosen by the Greater Will after it cast aside dragonkind. Speak carefully, spawn of the betrayer, for thy lineage bodes ill in this sacred place."
Godwyn, sensing the rising danger, quickly interjected, "We understand your anger, Dragonlord, but we come with news that may change your perspective. We are not alone in our journey."
Magnus nodded, adding, "We bring with us our grandmother, Morana."
At the mention of Morana's name, Placidusax froze. The fury in his eyes gave way to a complex mix of emotions - surprise, disbelief, and a flicker of something deeper.
"Speakest thou true?" The Dragonlord's voice, though still thunderous, held a note of vulnerability. "Morana... here?"
As they confirmed, a visible change came over Placidusax. His rigid posture softened slightly, and his eyes grew distant, lost in memories of ages past. Magnus, attuned to the emotions swirling around them, sensed the deep well of feelings the Dragonlord held for his former goddess and love.
Encouraged by this shift, Magnus took a cautious step forward. "Great Placidusax, we understand the bond you shared with Morana. We come not to reopen old wounds, but to seek your wisdom and aid in a matter that threatens all existence, including Farum Azula."
But as Magnus spoke, Placidusax's gaze suddenly sharpened, fixing the demigod with an icy stare that stopped him mid-stride.
"Enough," the Dragonlord rumbled, his voice regaining its earlier edge. "Thy words stir long-buried memories, yet they answer not mine question. For the last time, declare thy purpose here. Why hast thou disturbed the slumber of ages and invoked names best left to the dust of history?"
The air crackled with renewed tension as Magnus and Godwyn exchanged glances, knowing that their next words would be crucial in swaying the ancient dragon's will.
Magnus and Godwyn exchanged a glance before Magnus began, "Great Dragonlord, we seek your aid in harnessing the power over time. Our goal is to craft an object capable of warding off the influence of Outer Gods."
Placidusax's eyes narrowed, a mix of intrigue and suspicion in his gaze. "An ambitious pursuit," he rumbled. "Yet thy words do little to quell mine fury. Know ye not the suffering that has befallen Farum Azula?"
Confusion crossed the brothers' faces. Godwyn stepped forward, "We don't understand. What has happened here?"
The Dragonlord's voice grew heavy with sorrow and rage. "Many of mine ancient kin have fallen prey to a terrible madness. A chaos that consumes all it touches. Were it not for the meddling of mortals, this plague would never have been unleashed upon us."
Understanding dawned on Magnus's face. "The Frenzied Flame," he whispered. "It's reached even here."
"We assure you, Dragonlord," Godwyn added hastily, "our intention is to rid the world of this very threat."
Placidusax's eyes bore into them. "Explain," he demanded, his voice like rolling thunder.
Magnus took a deep breath before continuing, "We plan to use the Divine Towers and unalloyed gold to create a barrier against all Outer God influence. This would not only stop the Frenzied Flame but prevent any such threats in the future."
As Magnus spoke, a change came over Placidusax. His eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously. The air around them crackled with barely contained fury.
"All Outer Gods?" the Dragonlord snarled. "Thy plan would seal away not just the chaos that plagues us, but all divine influence?"
Realization struck Godwyn. "You're concerned about the Greater Will," he said softly.
Placidusax reared up, his voice shaking the very foundations of the timeless realm. "Foolish mortals! Understandest thou not what thy actions would mean? The Greater Will shall never return. The old order shall never be restored." His eyes flashed with a pain older than time itself. "And Morana... Morana shall never again ascend to her rightful place as a god."
The brothers stood their ground in the face of the Dragonlord's wrath, the full weight of their plan's implications becoming clear. They had come seeking aid, but instead found themselves facing an ancient power whose hopes for the future stood in direct opposition to their own.
Magnus's voice was gentle but firm as he addressed the Dragonlord. "Placidusax, I understand your disbelief, but it's true. From what we've learned, our grandmother no longer yearns for godhood. Her only desire now is to be reunited with you."
For a moment, a flicker of vulnerability passed across Placidusax's ancient features. But it was quickly replaced by skepticism and anger.
"Thy words ring hollow," the Dragonlord growled. "The Morana I knew was consumed by the loss of her divinity. So great was her desire to reclaim it that she abandoned me... left me to wait in this timeless realm."
His voice grew heavy with the weight of eons. "For ages uncounted, I have waited. Waited for her return. Waited for the Greater Will to remember us. Waited for the old order to be restored."
Placidusax's eyes blazed with a fury born of pain and betrayal. "And now ye come, spawn of the usurper, seeking to strip away even the hope of that return?"
Godwyn stepped forward, trying one last time to reason with the ancient dragon. "We understand your pain, but the world has changed. The old order-"
"Enough!" Placidusax roared, cutting him off. "I shall not permit this. I will not allow thee to jeopardize the return of the old ways, of my god, of my Morana."
With a thunderous roar that shook the very fabric of the timeless realm, Placidusax reared up. Red lightning began to crackle and beam down around them, scorching the ground and filling the air with the smell of ozone.
Magnus and Godwyn exchanged a grim look, realizing that diplomacy had failed. With heavy hearts, they drew their weapons, the screech of metal echoing in the chaotic arena.
The arena erupted into chaos as Placidusax launched his assault. The Dragonlord's remaining heads weaved through the air, each one spewing forth streams of red lightning that carved deadly paths across the battlefield.
Magnus took to the sky, his majestic white wings carrying him aloft. Light radiated from his form as he channeled the power of his Rune of Life. With a sweep of his arm, he sent forth a wave of radiant energy that clashed spectacularly with Placidusax's lightning.
Godwyn, meanwhile, stood his ground, his massive frame a bulwark against the dragon's fury. He raised his greatsword, now crackling with his own golden lightning, and met Placidusax's attacks head-on. The clash of their powers sent shockwaves rippling through the timeless realm.
Placidusax roared in defiance, his wings unfurling to their full, tattered span. He launched himself into the air, becoming a whirlwind of claws, teeth, and lightning. Magnus and Godwyn found themselves hard-pressed, dodging and parrying the relentless assault.
"Brother, together!" Godwyn called out. As Placidusax dove towards them, Magnus and Godwyn combined their powers. A brilliant surge of golden energy erupted from them, momentarily forcing the Dragonlord back.
But Placidusax was far from defeated. With a sound like reality itself tearing, he vanished in a swirl of black mist. The brothers stood back-to-back, weapons at the ready, scanning for any sign of their foe.
"Where did he-" Magnus began, but his words were cut short as Placidusax reappeared behind them, jaws agape and crackling with energy.
The demigods barely had time to raise their defenses as the Dragonlord unleashed a devastating blast of power. The force of the attack sent them skidding across the arena, their armor smoking and their bodies aching.
As they struggled to their feet, ready to continue the fight, Placidusax once again vanished into the black mist, leaving Magnus and Godwyn tense and watchful, knowing that the next attack could come from any direction at any moment.
As the battle raged on, Placidusax's hit-and-run tactics kept Magnus and Godwyn on constant alert. The Dragonlord would materialize in flashes of black mist, unleash devastating attacks, then vanish before they could retaliate.
Godwyn, his battle-honed instincts kicking in, watched closely for a pattern. As Placidusax reappeared for another assault, Godwyn saw his opening. With a mighty roar, he swung his massive battle axe in a wide arc, timing it perfectly to catch the Dragonlord mid-attack.
The axe connected with a resounding crash, sending sparks flying as it struck Placidusax's scaled hide. The ancient dragon let out a bellow of pain and surprise, momentarily stunned by the unexpected blow.
Magnus seized the opportunity. His hands glowed with golden light as he unleashed a barrage of powerful incantations. Beams of radiant energy slammed into Placidusax, each one eliciting a roar of agony from the mighty dragon.
Reeling from the combined assault, Placidusax retreated skyward, vanishing into the swirling storm above. For a moment, an eerie calm descended upon the arena.
Suddenly, the air split with a deafening crack. A massive vortex of black and red lightning formed overhead, and from its center, Placidusax emerged, his form wreathed in crackling energy. With a earth-shattering roar, he plummeted towards the demigods like a meteor of scales and fury.
The impact was catastrophic. Magnus and Godwyn were sent flying, tumbling across the arena floor as Placidusax skidded to a halt, leaving deep gouges in the ancient stone.
Before the brothers could fully regain their footing, Placidusax reared up, his remaining heads aligning. A brilliant light began to build in his maw, and Magnus's eyes widened in realization.
"Godwyn, move!" he shouted, just as Placidusax unleashed a barrage of searing energy beams from his mouth.
The brothers dove in opposite directions, the heat of the lasers scorching the air around them. They rolled and weaved, narrowly avoiding the deadly beams as they carved paths of destruction across the battlefield.
As they caught their breath, exchanging grim looks, Magnus and Godwyn knew the fight was far from over. Placidusax's raw power was overwhelming, and they would need every ounce of skill and cunning to survive, let alone emerge victorious.
Lansseax wheeled through the sky, her silver scales flashing in the chaotic light of Farum Azula. Her two opponents, once kin but now consumed by the Frenzied Flame, pursued her relentlessly. Their eyes burned with madness as they unleashed torrents of lightning and flame.
With a graceful twist, Lansseax dodged a blast of fire, retaliating with a stream of her own lightning. It struck one of the dragons, causing it to roar in pain and fury. But these were ancient beings, and they would not fall easily.
The three massive forms clashed in mid-air, a tangle of claws, teeth, and wings. Lansseax fought with all her might, but she was outnumbered. A vicious swipe from one dragon left deep gashes in her side, while the other's jaws clamped down on her wing.
Gritting through the pain, Lansseax unleashed a devastating area-of-effect attack, her body erupting with crackling energy that forced her attackers back. She took advantage of the brief respite to dive towards the crumbling structures below, using the terrain to her advantage.
As one of the frenzied dragons pursued her into a narrow gap between towers, Lansseax suddenly reversed direction. With pinpoint accuracy, she breathed a concentrated beam of lightning directly into its open maw. The dragon convulsed violently before plummeting from the sky, crashing into the ruins below.
But there was no time to celebrate. The remaining dragon slammed into her from above, sending them both tumbling through the air. They grappled fiercely, trading blows that shook the very foundations of Farum Azula.
In a desperate move, Lansseax managed to wrap her powerful tail around her opponent's neck. With a surge of strength born of survival, she twisted sharply. There was a sickening crack, and the frenzied dragon's body went limp.
As the dust settled, Lansseax landed heavily on a wide platform, her body battered and bleeding. She looked at the fallen forms of her fellow dragons, creatures she had once called kin. The madness may have left their eyes in death, but the damage was done.
Lansseax lowered her head, a mournful keen escaping her throat. These were not just any dragons, but ancient beings who had weathered eons. Their loss was a blow not just to her personally, but to the very legacy of dragonkind.
As she grieved, Lansseax couldn't help but wonder how many more of her kind had fallen to this madness. The Frenzied Flame's reach was growing, and even the mighty dragons of Farum Azula were not immune. With heavy heart, she knew that the battle was far from over, and that more difficult choices lay ahead.
Maeve and Morana stood over the fallen form of the ancient dragon, its once-mighty body now still. The ease with which they had dispatched it spoke volumes about their combined power.
Morana turned to Maeve, her mismatched eyes narrowing. "Your hostility towards me has grown, child. It goes beyond our usual... disagreements. Why?"
Maeve's crimson eyes met Morana's gaze unflinchingly. "Perhaps I've simply grown weary of cryptic half-truths and ancient agendas."
"No," Morana said, her voice sharp. "There's more to it than that. You're hiding something."
"And you're not?" Maeve retorted, her hand tightening on her sword hilt.
Morana took a step closer, her presence radiating power. "I demand answers, Maeve. What aren't you telling me?"
Their tense standoff was interrupted by Lansseax's arrival. The dragon landed heavily, her form battered but her eyes alert. "I can feel him," she said urgently. "The Dragonlord... he's awoken."
Morana's eyes widened, a complex mix of emotions flashing across her face. Without another word, she turned and raced back towards the burial mound, her form blurring with speed.
"Damn it all," Maeve cursed, spreading her dark wings. "We can't let her reach him alone."
As they prepared to pursue, the sky darkened. Dozens of ancient dragons appeared, their eyes blazing with the madness of the Frenzied Flame.
"By the Erdtree," Lansseax breathed, horror in her voice.
Maeve grabbed Lansseax's arm. "We don't have time for this. We need to reach Morana before it's too late."
They took to the sky, weaving through the ruins of Farum Azula as the horde of frenzied dragons gave chase.
The battle between the demigods and the Dragonlord reached a fever pitch in the heart of the time storm. Magnus, his white wings spread wide, grappled with Placidusax high above the arena floor. The Dragonlord's massive jaws snapped dangerously close to Magnus's form as the demigod strained to keep them at bay.
From below, Godwyn's voice boomed over the chaos. "Magnus, brace yourself!" With a mighty heave, he hurled a colossal bolt of red lightning skyward. The bolt struck true, forcing Placidusax to release his grip on Magnus.
Enraged, the Dragonlord turned his fury on Godwyn. A barrage of lasers and red lightning rained down, forcing the warrior demigod to dodge and weave across the battlefield.
Seizing the moment, Magnus called upon the power of his Rune of Life. White and blue energy swirled around him, growing in intensity until it blazed like a newborn star. With a cry that echoed through the timeless realm, he unleashed the blast at Placidusax.
The impact was tremendous. Placidusax roared in pain and confusion as the energy of life itself coursed through his ancient form. The Dragonlord's wings faltered, and he began to plummet towards the ground.
But the brothers weren't finished. As one, Magnus and Godwyn raised their hands to the swirling sky above. Twin incantations of Elden Stars burst forth, each a miniature galaxy of destructive power homing in on the falling dragon.
Magnus, drawing upon the teachings of his brother Radahn, took it a step further. His form began to glow with cosmic energy, transforming into a living meteor. He rocketed downward, leaving a trail of stardust in his wake.
The Elden Stars struck Placidusax first, eliciting another roar of pain. Moments later, just as the Dragonlord crashed into the arena floor with earth-shattering force, Magnus followed. The impact of the demigod-turned-meteor sent shockwaves rippling through the very fabric of the timeless realm.
As the dust began to settle, Magnus and Godwyn regrouped, breathing heavily but alert. The crater where Placidusax had fallen was obscured by swirling debris and residual energy from their combined assault. As the dust settled, Placidusax lay motionless in the crater, his once-mighty form broken and still. His remaining eyes, dim with fading life, gazed upward as he spoke his final words.
"Morana... forgive my foolishness," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "I... have always loved you..." With those words, the light in his eyes extinguished, and the Dragonlord Placidusax was no more. Yet the brothers noticed a faint glimmer leave his eyes, no… flames..
Magnus and Godwyn stood in somber silence, the weight of what they had done settling heavily upon them. The quiet was broken by a soft, pained sound behind them.
They turned to see Morana, her face a mask of shock and grief. "What... what have you done?" she whispered, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion.
Magnus stepped forward, his hand outstretched. "Grandmother, we-"
"Why?" Morana's voice rose, filled with anguish and fury. "This was all I wanted - to be alongside him once more. My dragon, my love... and you've taken him from me!"
Her mismatched eyes blazed with a pain older than time itself. "Is this your retribution? Do you truly hate me so much for my past actions against your mother?"
Godwyn tried to reason with her. "It wasn't like that. We never intended-"
But Morana was beyond reason. With a heart-wrenching cry, she erupted into a maelstrom of black flames. The fire swirled around her, her form becoming a terrifying visage of grief and rage.
"Grandmother, please!" Magnus called out, desperation in his voice. "We can explain!"
But his words fell on deaf ears. Morana launched herself at the brothers, the black flames lashing out like vengeful serpents. Magnus and Godwyn barely had time to raise their defenses as the onslaught began.
The timeless realm erupted into chaos once more as Morana's fury was unleashed. The brothers found themselves on the defensive, facing not just the incredible power of the former god-queen but also the weight of their own actions and the grief they had inadvertently caused.
The timeless realm erupted into chaos as Morana's fury was unleashed. Black flames lashed out in every direction, forcing Magnus and Godwyn to dodge and weave.
"Grandmother, please!" Magnus called out, deflecting a blast of dark energy with his radiant shield. "We never meant for this to happen!"
Morana's response was a barrage of fiery projectiles. "Lies! You knew what he meant to me!"
Godwyn leapt in front of his brother, his massive frame absorbing the impact. "We came seeking aid, not conflict," he grunted, pushing back against the assault.
"Aid?" Morana snarled, her form wreathed in black fire. "You've destroyed everything!"
She lunged at Magnus, who barely managed to parry her strike with his sword. Their faces were inches apart as he pleaded, "We're trying to save our world, to end the cycle of suffering!"
"At what cost?" Morana roared, breaking away and unleashing another wave of dark energy.
The brothers rolled in opposite directions, the ground where they had stood erupting in black flame.
"The Frenzied Flame is consuming everything," Godwyn shouted, trying to reason with her. "Placidusax fell to its madness."
Morana paused for a moment, pain flashing across her face. "You lie..."
Magnus saw an opening and took it, not to attack, but to approach. "It's true, Grandmother. The dragons, Farum Azula itself - all are being corrupted. We're fighting to save what's left."
For a brief instant, doubt flickered in Morana's eyes. But then rage consumed her once more. "And your solution was to kill him? To take away my last hope?"
She summoned a massive sphere of dark energy, hurling it at the brothers. Godwyn raised his great shield, gritting his teeth as the impact sent him skidding backward.
"We didn't want this!" Magnus cried out, his wings flaring as he took to the air to avoid another assault.
Morana's response was a primal scream of grief and fury. She rose into the air, matching Magnus's altitude, her hands blazing with dark power. "There is no other way now. You've made your choice, and I've made mine."
Magnus hovered in the air, his wings spread wide as he faced Morana. His voice was filled with emotion as he spoke, "Grandmother, please remember what you told us. You regretted trying to kill our mother. You wanted to reconcile but never had the chance... until you met us, your grandchildren."
Morana's assault faltered for a moment, a flicker of recognition in her eyes.
Magnus pressed on, his voice urgent. "We never wanted to kill Placidusax. We tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen. He didn't believe that you had changed, that you'd given up your quest for divinity."
For a brief instant, Morana's rage seemed to waver. Her eyes softened, and her stance relaxed slightly. "I... I did say those things..." she murmured, almost to herself.
But then, as if responding to her moment of weakness, a surge of darkness rose within her. The air around Morana began to shimmer with an ominous energy, and the telltale signs of Destined Death started to manifest.
Godwyn, recognizing the deadly power beginning to form, shouted, "Magnus, watch out!"
Without hesitation, Godwyn abandoned his defensive stance and rushed forward to protect his brother. His massive form interposed itself between Magnus and Morana just as she unleashed a wave of dark energy.
But Morana seemed beyond reach now, the power of Destined Death swirling around her like a tempest. Her eyes, once filled with sorrow and rage, now burned with an otherworldly light.
The tense standoff between Magnus, Godwyn, and Morana was suddenly interrupted as Maeve burst into the arena, Lansseax close behind. Without hesitation, Maeve threw herself into the path of Morana's attack, her own mastery of Destined Death allowing her to catch and absorb the deadly blast.
The two wielders of death's power faced each other, the air crackling with dark energy between them. Morana's eyes narrowed as she regarded her granddaughter.
"So, the upstart thinks she can challenge me?" Morana sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.
Maeve stood her ground, her crimson eyes blazing. "And the fallen queen thinks she can destroy everything in her tantrum?"
Their words were sharp, cutting through the tension-filled air. But then, Maeve's expression softened slightly, a hint of regret crossing her features.
"I never wanted it to come to this," Maeve admitted, her voice low but firm. "We came here seeking help, not to cause you pain."
Morana's grip on her power seemed to waver for a moment, confusion mixing with the anger in her eyes. "You... you knew this would happen?"
Maeve nodded solemnly. "Magnus had a vision. We hoped to prevent it, to find another way. But..."
Lansseax, observing from the sidelines, spoke up. "My lady Morana, please. There is still time to step back from this precipice. To honor Placidusax's memory not with vengeance, but with wisdom."
The arena fell silent as the siblings united in their plea to their grandmother.
Magnus stepped forward, his voice gentle. "Grandmother, we never wanted this. We were left with no choice, but that doesn't mean we don't grieve for your loss."
Godwyn nodded solemnly. "We came seeking aid, not to cause pain. The fate of the Lands Between hangs in the balance, but we never wished to sacrifice your happiness for it."
Even Maeve, typically sharp-tongued and unsympathetic, softened her tone. "I... I truly am sorry for your loss, Grandmother. Placidusax was a legend, and I understand what he meant to you."
Morana's eyes widened at Maeve's words. The sincerity in her typically caustic granddaughter's voice seemed to break through the haze of grief and rage that had consumed her. The darkness surrounding her began to fade as the realization sank in.
"If even you feel this way, Maeve..." Morana's voice trailed off as she slumped to her knees, the fight draining out of her. Tears began to fall from her mismatched eyes. "Why... why did you not tell me of the vision? Why keep this from me?"
The siblings exchanged pained glances before Magnus answered. "We... we feared what you might do if you knew. We hoped to prevent it, to find another way."
Morana absorbed their words, her gaze drifting to Placidusax's still form. Slowly, she rose and made her way to the fallen Dragonlord. As she reached him, she placed a hand gently on his scales.
"Oh, my love," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She began to murmur a prayer, ancient words that seemed to resonate with the very fabric of the timeless realm.
Magnus approached Morana cautiously, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and concern. As he reached her side, she looked up at him, her face streaked with tears.
"I understand now," Morana said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The feathers, your future self... it all makes sense."
Magnus furrowed his brow, confused. "What do you mean, Grandmother?"
Morana placed a hand on Placidusax's still form. "The power over time, the ability to guide your past selves... it comes from Placidusax."
Lansseax, who had been listening intently, suddenly gasped. "My lady, you can't mean..."
Morana nodded, fresh tears spilling from her eyes. "Yes, Lansseax. I do."
She turned back to Magnus, her voice breaking as she spoke. "Magnus, my dear grandson. To obtain the power over time for your plan, to become the future version of yourself that has guided you all this way..." She paused, struggling to get the words out. "You must feast on the heart of Placidusax."
The words hung heavy in the air, their implications sending shockwaves through all present. Magnus stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock and revulsion.
"Grandmother, I... I can't possibly..." he stammered.
Godwyn and Maeve exchanged alarmed glances, while Lansseax bowed her head in solemn understanding of the ancient draconic tradition.
Morana reached out and grasped Magnus's hand. "I know it's a terrible thing to ask. But this is the only way. Placidusax's power, his mastery over time... it must live on. And you, Magnus, are the one destined to wield it."
Magnus looked from Morana to Placidusax's body, then to his siblings, conflict clear on his face. The weight of destiny, the power to potentially save the Lands Between, and the gruesome task before him all warred within him.
"Is there truly no other way?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
Morana shook her head sadly. "This is the path that has been laid out. The future you has already walked it. Now, you must choose whether to follow."
Maeve, attempting to break the tension, quipped darkly, "Well, brother, you've already feasted on Bayle's heart. What's one more?"
Her attempt at levity fell flat as the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on everyone present.
Godwyn, concern etched on his face, turned to Morana. "Will this... change Magnus? Beyond just granting him power?"
Morana shook her head, her voice steadier now. "It will not alter him physically. But the power he gains will be significant. The ability to manipulate time itself is no small thing."
Lansseax stepped forward, her dragon eyes solemn. "There's more. By consuming Placidusax's heart, Magnus may be considered the new Dragonlord by many. Dragons across the Lands Between might bow to him, recognizing his newfound power and status."
Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but resolute. "If this is what must be done to save our world, to fulfill the path my future self has laid out... then I will do it."
With a deep breath, Magnus knelt beside Placidusax's massive form. He placed a hand on the dragon's scales, murmuring a quiet apology and prayer. Then, steeling himself, he began the grim task of feasting on the heart of the fallen Dragonlord.
The others watched in solemn silence as Magnus consumed the heart, the air around him beginning to shimmer with newfound power. As he finished, he stood, his form seeming to radiate with an otherworldly energy.
The timeless realm itself seemed to pulse in recognition of its new master, and in that moment, it was clear to all present that Magnus had taken an irrevocable step towards becoming the being who would shape the destiny of the Lands Between.