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.

14. Chapter 100 to 102

Chapter 100: Unalloyed TowersNotes:

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(See the end of the chapter formore notes.)

Chapter Text

At the Divine Tower of West Altus, the air hummed with activity and purpose. Magnus watched as his daughters and Eleanora worked diligently, placing canisters of unalloyed gold at strategic points around the base of the ancient structure. Their movements were precise, guided by Miquella's earlier instructions.

Magnus hefted a canister, its contents gleaming with a soft, golden light. He unfurled his majestic white wings and soared to the tower's summit, landing gracefully on the weathered stone. As he touched down, he saw Gwen and Miquella finally arriving, the former looking slightly windswept from their journey.

Miquella, his newly adult form still a source of wonder, fixed Magnus with a pointed glare. "You're an asshole, brother," he said."

Magnus couldn't help but grin. "I thought you could use the bonding time with Gwen."

Gwen, ever loyal but not without her own spark of defiance, bowed slightly. "With all due respect, my Lord, you are indeed an asshole."

As Gwen departed, Magnus turned to Miquella, his expression growing serious. "Shall we begin?"

Miquella nodded, his golden hair catching the sunlight. "Indeed. The sooner we start, the better."

The two brothers moved to the center of the tower's peak, where an intricate array of runes and sigils was etched into the stone. Magnus carefully placed the canister of unalloyed gold at the heart of this ancient pattern.

"Ready?" Magnus asked, his hand hovering over the canister.

Miquella took a deep breath, centering himself. "Ready."

Together, they began to channel their power into the tower. Magnus could feel the ancient magic resist at first, centuries of allegiance to the Greater Will making it reluctant to change. But as they persisted, infusing the structure with the essence of the unalloyed gold, he felt the shift begin.

The runes around them started to glow, not with the familiar golden light of grace, but with a warmer, more vibrant radiance. It was as if the tower itself was awakening to a new purpose.

"It's working," Miquella murmured, his voice filled with a mix of awe and concentration.

Magnus nodded, feeling the change ripple through the stone beneath his feet. "We're rewriting the very foundations of its power," he said, his voice tight with effort.

As they worked, the air around them seemed to shimmer, the boundary between the physical and the magical blurring. The unalloyed gold's influence spread through the tower, replacing the Greater Will's grace with its own unique energy.

Hours passed, though to Magnus and Miquella, lost in their work, it felt like mere moments. Finally, with a surge of power that made the entire tower tremble, the transformation was complete.

Magnus staggered slightly, feeling the drain of such intense magical work. Miquella steadied him, looking equally exhausted but triumphant.

"We did it," Miquella said, a rare, broad smile spreading across his face.

Magnus nodded, surveying their work with a sense of pride and hope. "One down," he said, "few more to go."

As they stood there, atop the newly transformed Divine Tower, Magnus felt a renewed sense of purpose. This was more than just a defensive measure; it was a step towards reshaping their world, freeing it from the influence of capricious outer gods.

"Let's check on the others," Magnus suggested, "and then we can plan our next move."

Magnus and Miquella descended from the tower's peak, their triumph quickly turning to confusion as they spotted Eleanora lying on the ground, clearly in pain.

"What happened?" Magnus asked, concern etching his features.

A burst of laughter drew their attention to Gwen, who was standing nearby with a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Oh, just a little payback," Gwen said, her eyes glinting mischievously. "For that sucker punch to the gut she gave me earlier. Debt paid in full, I'd say."

Miquella's brow furrowed as he looked at Eleanora's prone form. "How hard did you hit her? She looks utterly miserable."

Eleanora managed to grunt out a response, her voice strained. "She... didn't punch me... in the gut."

Magnus and Miquella exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion only growing. It wasn't until they caught sight of Polyanna, who was making a rather pointed gesture towards Eleanora's lower regions, that understanding dawned on their faces.

Magnus turned to Gwen, his expression a mix of disbelief and disapproval. "That was just cruel, Gwen."

Gwen's smile only widened. "Cruel, perhaps. Effective? Absolutely."

Shaking his head, Magnus moved to help Eleanora to her feet. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

Eleanora nodded, still wincing. "I'll live. Might need a moment before I can fly again, though."

Miquella, ever the peacemaker, stepped in. "Let's focus on the task at hand, shall we? How goes the placement of the unalloyed gold?"

The girls and Eleanora, now somewhat recovered, gathered around. Mary, the eldest, spoke up. "As far as we can tell, father, the unalloyed gold is in place. We've followed Uncle Miquella's instructions to the letter."

Magnus nodded approvingly. "Excellent work, all of you. But this is just the beginning. We still need to activate the other towers, and then..."

Miquella picked up where Magnus left off. "And then Magnus will need to test his power over time, to see if it works in conjunction with the unalloyed towers once they're all powered."

"How long will that take?" Maureen asked.

Magnus sighed, running a hand through his golden hair. "It's hard to say. We're treading new ground here. It could be days, it could be weeks before we know for certain if this plan will work as we hope."

Amy, typically quiet, spoke up. "But if it does work... it could change everything, couldn't it?"

Magnus smiled at his daughter, a mixture of pride and hope in his eyes. "Indeed it could, Amy. It could be our best defense against the Frenzied Flame and any other outer god that might seek to meddle in our realm."

Miquella clapped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention. "For now, let's focus on our next steps. We have more towers to visit, more work to do. Are you all ready to continue?"

A chorus of affirmatives rang out, even from Eleanora, who had finally managed to straighten up fully.

With that, they took to the skies, leaving behind a transformed Divine Tower and carrying with them the hope for a brighter, more independent future for the Lands Between.

—

The stillness of the night was shattered by a sharp knock at Maeve's door. She jolted awake, her crimson hair a tangled mess and her eyes blazing with fury.

Stomping to the door, she yanked it open. "What in the name of-"

Malenia stood there, her golden prosthetics gleaming in the dim light. Without a word, she brushed past Maeve and entered the room.

"Please, come in," Maeve said sarcastically, closing the door. "Make yourself at home."

Malenia turned, her gaze piercing. "This is my home, Maeve. My room, in fact. Miquella and I are the Lords of the Haligtree, or have you forgotten?"

Maeve rolled her eyes. "Oh, forgive me, your majesty. Shall I bow and scrape before your radiant presence?"

"Enough with the theatrics," Malenia snapped. "We need to talk."

Maeve flopped onto a nearby chair, her wings draping over the sides. "At this ungodly hour? What could possibly be so important?"

Malenia remained silent, her gaze cold and unwavering.

"What, did someone steal your favorite prosthetic?" Maeve joked nervously. "Did Radahn send your horse to the moon again by accident?"

Still, Malenia said nothing.

Maeve shifted uncomfortably. "Look, you're starting to creep me out. What's going on?"

Finally, Malenia spoke, her voice low and dangerous. "Are you sleeping with Miquella?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and accusatory. Maeve's eyes widened, a mix of shock and something else flashing across her face.

"I... what?" Maeve sputtered. "Where did that come from?"

Malenia took a step closer, her voice tight with barely contained emotion. "Answer the question, Maeve. Are you and Miquella together?"

Maeve avoided Malenia's gaze, fidgeting with the edge of her wing. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

Malenia's eyes narrowed. "Miquella is my twin. Everything about him is my business. Now answer me, damn it. Is there something going on between you two?"

Maeve threw her hands up in exasperation. "Fine! You want to know? We've been hanging out more, alright? We're... growing closer."

"And?" Malenia pressed, her voice dangerously low.

"And we might have had one very... very passionate kiss," Maeve blurted out, her cheeks flushing despite herself.

Malenia's face contorted with fury. "You what?!"

"Oh, don't you dare get all high and mighty with me!" Maeve shot back. "Need I remind you that you're fucking my twin? Hell, you've gone and married him!"

Malenia opened her mouth to retort, then closed it again. She took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. "You're right. I... I'm not here to judge. I just... I could tell something's been off with you two lately. I wanted to know what was going on."

Maeve scoffed, crossing her arms. "What, afraid the monstrous Dark Angel is going to corrupt your precious brother?"

To Maeve's surprise, Malenia shook her head. "No, that's not it at all. Actually... I think you two might make a good pair."

Maeve's jaw dropped. "I'm sorry, what? Did you just say-"

"Don't make me repeat it," Malenia grumbled. "I just wanted to know. That's all."

Maeve eyed Malenia suspiciously. "So, what? You're giving us your blessing or something?"

Malenia sighed. "I'm saying... if this is what Miquella wants, if he's happy... then I won't stand in the way."

A moment of silence passed between them, the tension in the room slowly dissipating.

"Well, shit," Maeve finally said. "This is not how I expected this conversation to go."

Malenia actually chuckled at that. "You and me both."

Maeve leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You know, if Miquella and I do become a thing, that makes family gatherings a whole lot more interesting. Imagine the dinner conversations."

"Please don't," Malenia groaned.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun," Maeve teased. "We can compare notes on the twins. I bet Miquella's got some interesting birthmarks in places you've never seen."

"Maeve!" Malenia exclaimed, looking scandalized.

Maeve cackled. "What? Too much? I have seen Magnus's birthmarks. You know that weird spot just right above his left ass cheek?"

Malenia's face turned an impressive shade of red. "I... that's... we're done here!"

As Malenia stormed towards the door, Maeve called after her, "Hey, next time you want to have a heart-to-heart about our love lives, maybe wait until a decent hour? Some of us need our beauty sleep!"

The door slammed shut, leaving Maeve alone in her room once more. She flopped back onto her bed, a mix of emotions swirling through her.

"Well," she muttered to herself, "that just happened. Miquella's going to love hearing about this..."

With that thought, she closed her eyes, trying to get back to sleep. But her mind kept drifting to a certain golden-haired demigod, and the possibilities that now seemed to stretch out before them.

—

Rennala approached silently, her footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. She found Radahn standing before an old painting, his massive frame dwarfing the ornate frame that held the image of their family from years past.

The painting depicted a moment frozen in time: young Radahn, towering even then, stood proudly next to a mischievous-looking Rykard. Ranni, her face unobscured by the doll-like visage she would later adopt, smiled serenely. Rennala herself stood regally, while Radagon's stern countenance completed the family portrait.

As Rennala drew closer, she felt an immense wave of sadness wash over her. Her mind drifted to her two lost children. Ranni, her brilliant daughter, now a cold and distant entity. And Rykard, her ambitious son, consumed by his own hunger for power. The pain of their loss was a constant ache in her heart.

"Radahn," she said softly, placing a hand on his arm.

He turned, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Mother, I... I'm sorry."

"Whatever for, my son?" Rennala asked, her voice gentle.

Radahn's shoulders slumped, a gesture that seemed so at odds with his usual confident bearing. "For abandoning you all those years ago. For not seeing Rykard's descent into blasphemy sooner. For failing to stop Ranni's corrupt plans." He paused, his voice breaking. "I should have been here. I should have done more."

Rennala felt her heart breaking for her son. She reached up, cupping his face in her hands. "Oh, Radahn. My young lion. You carry far too much on those shoulders of yours."

"But Mother," Radahn protested, "I failed our family. I failed you."

Rennala shook her head firmly. "No, my son. You did not fail us. We all made our choices, for better or worse. Ranni chose her path, as did Rykard. And you... you chose to protect the Lands Between in your own way."

"Fat lot of good that did," Radahn muttered bitterly. "I ended up mad and festering in Caelid."

"And yet here you stand," Rennala countered, "whole and hale, ready to fight once more. Come, let us step outside for a moment."

She led him to a balcony overlooking the misty lakes of Liurnia. Above them, the night sky sparkled with countless stars, their light piercing through the perpetual fog that shrouded the region.

"Look up, Radahn," Rennala instructed, her voice soft but firm. "What do you see?"

Radahn's gaze lifted to the heavens. "Stars, Mother. Countless stars."

Rennala nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Indeed. And what are we, my son?"

"Carians," Radahn replied, understanding beginning to dawn in his eyes.

"Exactly," Rennala said, squeezing his hand. "We are Carians, children of the stars. Our fates are inextricably linked to the celestial realm above us."

Rennala's eyes grew distant, filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope. " Ranni and Rykard. As Carians, their spirits may have found their way to the stars, even if their physical forms are lost to us. Ranni, in her pursuit of a new order, may be watching from some distant celestial perch. And Rykard, for all his blasphemy, was still a child of the stars. Perhaps his ambition now burns in some far-off constellation."

"Do you truly believe that, Mother?" Radahn asked, his voice tinged with both skepticism and longing.

Rennala sighed. "I... I want to believe it, Radahn. It brings me comfort to think that they are not entirely lost to us. That somewhere, in the vast expanse of the cosmos, a part of them still exists."

For a long moment, they stood in silence, gazing up at the celestial tapestry above them. Finally, Radahn spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Mother. I... I needed this."

Rennala turned to face her son, reaching up to wipe away a tear that had escaped down his cheek. "We have lost much, it's true. But we have not lost everything. You are here, my son. You are fighting for a better future. And in that fight, you carry the strength and spirit of our entire family with you."

"And we will triumph," Rennala added, a fierce pride shining in her eyes. "Whatever comes, whatever challenges we face, we face them together. As a family. You, me, your aunt. Even your other siblings."

"As a family," Radahn echoed, wrapping an arm around his mother's shoulders.

As they stood there, mother and son reunited under the starry sky, a sense of peace settled over them. The stars above twinkled, as if in acknowledgment of their renewed resolve, a silent promise that no matter what came, the legacy of the Carians would endure.

—

Millicent sat quietly by the crackling fire, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames. The camp around her was silent, her sisters, Uncle Miquella, and Eleanora having already succumbed to sleep. She glanced up, catching sight of Gwen's silhouette against the star-studded sky, the archangel vigilantly patrolling for any signs of danger.

Her gaze drifted towards the horizon, where the ruins of outer Leyndell stood as a stark reminder of all they had lost. A wave of anger washed over her, hot and sudden, causing her fingers to clench involuntarily.

"What troubles you, Millicent?" Magnus's voice came softly from behind her, startling her from her thoughts.

She turned, surprised to see her father standing there. "How did you...?"

Magnus smiled gently, sitting down beside her. "I could sense your anger. Even from a distance."

Millicent sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I... I'm just ready for this war to be over, father. To be rid of... of him." Her voice caught on the last word, unable to bring herself to name the Lord of Frenzied Flame.

Magnus studied his daughter's face, noting the hurt and anger etched into her features. His mind wandered to the stories she had shared of her journey long ago, of the Tarnished who had aided her. The same Tarnished who had become her friend, who had given her the prosthetic arm that saved her life from the rot. They had fought side by side in battles, forging a bond that Millicent had thought unbreakable.

"You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" Magnus asked softly. "The Tarnished who helped you."

Millicent nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I never understood why he betrayed us. Why he betrayed me. Not until years later when I returned and we learned..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Magnus placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "That he had become the Lord of Frenzied Flame."

"Yes," Millicent whispered. "How could he, Father? How could someone who showed such kindness, such compassion, turn to that madness?"

Magnus sighed heavily. "The path to chaos is often paved with good intentions, Millicent. Perhaps he thought he was doing the right thing, in some twisted way."

Millicent shook her head vehemently. "No. There's no justification for what he's done. For what he's become."

"You're right," Magnus agreed. "There isn't. But dwelling on his betrayal won't change what's happened. We must focus on the future, on stopping him and restoring peace to the Lands Between."

Millicent was quiet for a moment, staring into the fire. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with determination. "I want to face him, Father. When the time comes, I want to look him in the eye and ask him why. And then... then I want to help end this madness he's unleashed."

Magnus studied his daughter, seeing the strength and resolve in her eyes. He nodded slowly. "If that is what you wish, Millicent, I won't stand in your way. But remember, confronting him won't be easy. The person you knew... he may no longer exist."

"I know," Millicent said softly. "But I need to do this. For myself, for our family, for all those who have suffered because of his choices."

As they sat there, father and daughter, the fire crackling before them, Millicent felt a sense of peace settling over her. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but it was tempered now by resolve and support.

—

As dawn broke, the group took to the skies once more, their destination the Isolated Divine Tower. The process of infusing the tower with unalloyed gold was repeated with practiced efficiency, each member of the team now familiar with their roles.

Their next stop was the Divine Tower in Liurnia. As they worked, the aroma of distant foods wafted on the breeze, causing some of the girls to look longingly towards Caria Manor.

"Uncle Miquella," Polyanna began, her voice dripping with exaggerated desperation, "I think I might faint if I don't get some real food soon. These provisions are... well, let's just say they're testing my patience."

Miquella rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. "Oh, the tragedy. However will you survive, dear niece?"

"I'm serious!" Polyanna insisted. "I swear, if I have to eat another piece of dried jerky, I might just sprout Scarlet Rot out of sheer rebellion."

"Don't even joke about that," Millicent muttered, elbowing her sister.

Magnus chuckled, shaking his head. "As entertaining as your dramatics are, we need to stay on schedule. The Divine Tower in Limgrave awaits."

A chorus of groans met this declaration. Amy, usually quiet, suddenly piped up, "Father, if we don't get real food soon, I might be forced to eat Eleanora."

Eleanora's eyes widened in mock horror. "I'll have you know I taste terrible. All gristle and old blood, really."

"Alright, alright," Magnus relented, unable to keep a straight face. "How about this? We'll head to the Divine Tower in Limgrave, and then make a quick stop at Stormveil Castle. It's not far, and I'm sure Lord Haight won't mind feeding a bunch of starving miscriants."

The girls cheered, their spirits instantly lifting.

"And who knows?" Miquella added, a mischievous glint in his eye. "We might even catch Malenia there. I'm sure she'd love to hear all about how her daughters nearly resorted to cannibalism."

As they set off towards Limgrave, the banter continued.

"Race you to Stormveil!" Mary called out, surging ahead.

"No fair!" Maureen shouted back. "You've got a head start!"

Gwen sighed dramatically. "I'm surrounded by children. Powerful, angelic children who could probably smite me where I stand, but children nonetheless."

—

As night fell, the group arrived at Stormveil Castle. Mary's triumphant cry turned into a groan of defeat as Amy surged past her at the last moment, winning their impromptu race.

"No!" Mary protested.
Amy simply smirked, a rare expression on her usually stoic face.

The girls' attention was quickly drawn to the massive form of Lansseax, slumbering peacefully on a nearby hill. A mischievous glint appeared in Polyanna's eyes.

"Hey," she whispered conspiratorially, "who wants to give Aunt Lansseax a makeover?"

Before anyone could object, the girls were gathering nearby shrubbery, giggling as they began to cover the sleeping dragon.

"We're creating a masterpiece," Millicent declared, artfully arranging leaves.

As the others landed, they couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"Oh, this is priceless," Miquella chuckled. "I almost wish I had a painter here to capture this moment."

Suddenly, Maureen paused, sniffing at some of the leaves. "Wait a second... Polyanna, Millicent, these leaves are poisonous! They'll make her itch like crazy!"

"Oops?" Polyanna said, not sounding particularly sorry.

Magnus, who had been enjoying the show, suddenly gasped as he noticed where the girls were placing the leaves. "Girls, stop! Right now!"

"What's wrong, Father?" Mary asked, confused by his sudden alarm.

Magnus approached, his face a mix of concern and embarrassment. "That's, uh... that's one of Lansseax's sensitive areas in her dragon form."

The girls immediately dropped their leaves, faces contorting in disgust.

"Eww!" Polyanna exclaimed. "Wait! Why do you even know that?"

Maureen, ever the inquisitive one, narrowed her eyes. "Yes, Father. How exactly do you know about Aunt Lansseax's... sensitive areas?"

Miquella, Gwe, and Eleanora began to die of silent laughter.

Magnus shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you see... a long time ago, before your mother or the other demigods were brought back, Lansseax and I... we used to date."

A chorus of exaggerated gagging sounds erupted from the girls.

"That's so gross!" Millicent groaned.

Maureen, however, wasn't satisfied. "That doesn't really answer my question, Father. How do you know about her dragon form's sensitive spots specifically?"

Magnus's face turned a shade of red that rivaled Radahn's hair. "I... well... there was an incident, and..."

"Oh my god," Maureen gasped, her eyes widening in realization. "Did you two have sex while she was in dragon form?"

At this point, Miquella, Eleanora, and Gwen were barely containing their laughter. Malenia, who had just walked out to investigate the commotion, stood frozen in shock.

Lansseax, who had awakened during this conversation, let out a long, embarrassed sigh. "This is not how I expected this evening to go," she muttered.

Magnus, now thoroughly flustered, waved his hands frantically. "No! No, we did not... It was just... There was an incident, okay? And I'm not elaborating any further!"

"Too late, brother," Miquella chimed in, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The damage is done. I do believe you've scarred your daughters for life."

Eleanora nodded solemnly. "And here I thought I had some scandalous stories. This tops them all."

"I need to wash my brain," Amy mumbled, looking thoroughly traumatized.

Malenia finally found her voice. "Magnus, dear, perhaps we should have a talk about appropriate topics of conversation around the children?"

"Children?" Polyanna protested. "We're old enough to hear about father's kinky dragon escapades!"

"And that's quite enough of that," Magnus declared, his face still burning. "How about we go inside and see about that dinner, shall we? And perhaps we can all agree to never speak of this again?"

As they made their way towards the castle, the air filled with a mix of laughter, groans, and whispered speculations. Magnus walked ahead, trying to maintain what dignity he had left, while Lansseax trailed behind, still covered in leaves and looking thoroughly mortified.

Just another typical family moment for the saviors of the Lands Between.

—

Lord Haight stood at the head of the table, his eyes widening as he watched the ravenous group before him. "I, uh, am most grateful to host you all," he said, nervously adjusting his collar as the girls, Eleanora, and Magnus tore into their meals with gusto.

"Mmmph... 's delicious," Polyanna mumbled through a mouthful of roast chicken.

Malenia's eyes narrowed. "Girls! Where are your manners? Act civilized, for goodness sake!"

The girls paused momentarily, then pointed accusingly at Magnus, who was currently devouring a plate of boiled prawn with abandon.

Malenia sighed heavily and reached over, delivering a swift slap to the back of Magnus's head. "You're supposed to set an example!"

Magnus looked up, a prawn tail dangling from his mouth. "Wha? 'm hungry!"

Eleanora, seeing Malenia's growing irritation, slowly put down her fork. "You know, I think I'm quite full," she said hastily, not wishing to incur the Blade of Miquella's wrath.

Miquella, ever the diplomat, turned to their host with an apologetic smile. "Lord Haight, we cannot thank you enough for your hospitality. Please forgive our... enthusiastic appreciation of your excellent fare."

Lord Haight nodded, still looking slightly shell-shocked. "Of course, of course. It's an honor to serve the saviors of the Lands Between."

"We'll be departing at dawn," Miquella continued, casting a pointed look at the others. "We have much work yet to do."

Malenia nodded in agreement. "Lansseax and I will remain here to travel with Lord Haight and his men to Liurnia once Moganna arrives with her forces."

"Splendid," Lord Haight said, visibly relaxing now that the feeding frenzy seemed to be subsiding. "I'll ensure everything is prepared for your early departure."

As the meal wound down, the group began to disperse to their assigned chambers for the night.

"Girls," Malenia called out, "do try to get some rest. And please, no more pranks on sleeping dragons."

"Yes, Mother," they chorused, though the mischievous glint in their eyes suggested sleep might not be the only thing on their agenda.

Magnus lingered behind, helping himself to one last prawn. Malenia raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I'm a growing demigod."

Malenia rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a fond smile. "Just don't come complaining to me if you have indigestion in the morning."

As they all filed out, Lord Haight slumped into his chair, eyeing the devastation of what had once been a fully laden banquet table. "I do hope the kitchens can keep up with this lot," he muttered to himself, making a mental note to double the castle's food stores.

The halls of Stormveil Castle settled into a quiet buzz of activity as its illustrious guests prepared for the night.

After dinner, Magnus and Malenia retired to their private chambers. As they prepared for bed, Malenia's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"So," she began, her tone light but probing, "quite an eventful evening, wouldn't you say?"

Magnus groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Can we please not discuss the dragon incident?"

Malenia chuckled, moving closer to him. "Oh, but I find myself terribly curious now. Our daughter did raise an interesting question."

"Malenia, please," Magnus pleaded, his face flushing.

She raised an eyebrow, her voice taking on a more authoritative tone. "Come now, Magnus. I think I deserve an answer. Did you and Lansseax ever...?"

Magnus sighed in defeat. "No, we didn't. But there was an... incident involving an ill-timed transformation and a very awkward situation. That's all I'm saying on the matter."

Malenia laughed, pulling him close. "Very well, I'll spare you further interrogation... for now."

Her gaze softened as she looked up at him, a hint of desire flickering in her eyes. "Now then, my love," she purred, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest, "I believe we have some unfinished business to attend to."

Magnus raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Malenia's smile turned predatory as she gently pushed him towards the bed. "I think it's time I reminded you why you prefer human forms, don't you?"

As Magnus fell back onto the mattress, Malenia followed, her movements graceful and purposeful. She straddled him, leaning down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss.

"Tonight," she whispered against his mouth, "I'm in charge. Any objections?"

Magnus shook his head, his hands coming to rest on her hips. "None whatsoever."

Malenia smirked, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Good."

—

In the spacious chamber assigned to the girls, laughter and chatter filled the air. Polyanna flopped onto one of the plush beds, grinning mischievously.

"Okay, but can we talk about father's face when Maureen asked about Aunt Lansseax?" she giggled.

Maureen rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. "I was just curious! How was I supposed to know it would lead to... that?"

"I still can't believe it," Millicent chimed in, shaking her head. "Father and a dragon. It's just so..."

"Mortifying?" Amy supplied, her usually quiet voice tinged with amusement.

"Exactly!" Millicent agreed.

Polyanna sat up suddenly, her eyes wide. "Hey, do you think Uncle Miquella has any juicy stories like that?"

"Poly!" Maureen exclaimed, throwing a pillow at her sister. "That's our uncle you're talking about!"

"What? I'm just saying. Who knows what he's gotten up to?"

As the others continued their animated discussion, Mary sat apart, uncharacteristically quiet. The guilt of her recent behavior weighed heavily on her, especially after her talk with Magnus. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, lost in thought.

Finally, gathering her courage, Mary cleared her throat. "Um, girls? Can I... can I have your attention for a moment?"

The chatter died down as all eyes turned to Mary. Concern flickered across her sisters' faces at her serious tone.

"What's wrong, Mary?" Millicent asked, moving closer to her eldest sister.

Mary took a deep breath. "I... I wanted to apologize. For how I've been acting lately. I know I've been difficult and... well, kind of a jerk."

"Kind of?" Polyanna muttered, earning an elbow in the ribs from Maureen.

Ignoring the interruption, Mary continued, "It's just... after Aunt Maeve and I started getting along again, and I spent more time with her, I guess I just... I wanted to be more like her. Strong, confident, not taking crap from anyone."

"But that's not you, Mary," Amy said softly. "You've always been the kind one."

Mary nodded, blinking back tears. "I know. I lost sight of that. I thought being tough meant being harsh, but... that's not right. Father helped me see that."

Maureen moved to sit beside Mary, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "We understand, Mary. We all struggle sometimes with who we want to be."

"Yeah," Polyanna added, her usual joking tone replaced with sincerity. "And hey, if you want to be more confident, we can help with that. No need to go full Aunt Maeve on us."

A weak laugh escaped Mary's lips. "Thanks, guys. I'm really sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Without hesitation, the other girls enveloped Mary in a group hug.

"Of course we forgive you, you big softie," Millicent said, her voice muffled against Mary's shoulder.

As they pulled apart, Polyanna grinned wickedly. "Now that that's settled, who wants to sneak down to the kitchen and raid the leftovers?"

"Poly!" the others groaned in unison, but their laughter filled the room once more.

As the night wore on, the girls continued their chatter, but now Mary joined in, feeling lighter and more like herself than she had in weeks.

—-

As the morning sun peeked over the horizon, the group gathered in the courtyard of Stormveil Castle to bid their farewells. Malenia stood at the forefront, her golden prosthetics gleaming in the early light.

"Be safe, all of you," she said, embracing Magnus and then Miquella in turn. "And try to keep the girls out of trouble, won't you?"

Magnus chuckled, pulling Malenia close for a moment longer. "I make no promises, but we'll do our best. I'll miss you, my love."

Malenia smiled softly, touching his cheek. "And I you. But duty calls for us both."

The girls came forward, each hugging their mother tightly.

"Bye, Mother!" Polyanna chirped. "Try not to miss us too much!"

Malenia smiled, ruffling her daughter's hair. "I'll certainly try. Be good for your father and uncle."

As the group prepared to depart, Gwen and Eleanora approached to say their goodbyes.

"We'll keep an eye on them, Lady Malenia," Gwen assured her with a wink.

"Or at least try to keep up," Eleanora added with a grin.

With final waves and calls of farewell, the group took to the skies, their forms growing smaller as they headed towards the nearby Divine Tower.

Lansseax, still in her dragon form, let out a long groan as they disappeared from view. In a shimmer of magic, she reverted to her human form, stretching as she stood beside Malenia.

"Those girls are something else," Lansseax muttered, brushing a few stray leaves from her hair.

Malenia nodded, a mischievous glint appearing in her eye. "Indeed they are. Speaking of something else..." she paused, turning to face Lansseax fully. "Magnus mentioned an ill-timed transformation. Care to elaborate?"

Lansseax's face immediately flushed a deep red. "Oh no, please, can we not discuss this? Especially now that you and Magnus are together. It's ancient history."

"Oh, come now," Malenia pressed, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Magnus and I have no secrets. Besides, you're with Godwyn now. We can laugh about these things, can't we?"

Lansseax sighed deeply, resigning herself to the awkward explanation. "Fine. If you must know... Magnus and I were at the time... intimate."

"Yes, I gathered that much," Malenia said, gesturing for her to continue. "Go on. I promise not to get jealous... much."

Lansseax rolled her eyes. "As if. Anyway, Magnus was doing particularly... well. I just.. while I was.."

Malenia's eyes widened as understanding dawned. "You mean you-"

"Yes," Lansseax interrupted, mortified. "Mid-way, I suddenly... transformed. Scales, wings, tail - the whole dragon."

"By the Erdtree," Malenia breathed, trying to process this information. "That must have been..."

"Terrifying for Magnus? Absolutely," Lansseax finished, hiding her face in her hands. "One moment he's with a woman, the next he's... well, you can imagine."

Malenia stood silent for a moment, then couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh, but... the mental image..."

"It's not funny!" Lansseax protested, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Though I suppose Godwyn might find it amusing. He does have a strange sense of humor."

"Speaking of Godwyn," Malenia said, seizing the opportunity to shift the focus, "how are things between you two? Any... draconic surprises for him yet?"

Lansseax's blush deepened. "Malenia! No, nothing like that. We're taking things... slowly. Very slowly."

"Probably wise," Malenia nodded sagely.

"And that's quite enough of that," Lansseax said firmly, though her eyes twinkled with mirth. "Shall we focus on our duties now? The Liurnia forces won't organize themselves."

Malenia smirked, "fine, but rest assured Lansseax, if there are any more secrets, I will find out."

The day would be full of preparations and strategies, but this morning's awkward yet oddly bonding conversation would likely linger in both their minds for quite some time to come.

Chapter 101: FingerslayerNotes:

Check out the discord server. Will be posting important updates on there.

/An4faXPH

Chapter Text

As Godwyn and Maeve arrived with their forces in the Altus Plateau, they paused atop a hill, gazing out at the vast, scarred landscape before them. Where once Leyndell stood proud and golden, now only ruins and desolation stretched as far as the eye could see.

Godwyn's voice was somber as he spoke, "It's hard to believe how much has changed."

Maeve nodded silently, her crimson hair whipping in the wind. After a moment, she straightened, her voice taking on a commanding tone. "We can't dwell on the past. We have work to do."

They began issuing orders, their voices carrying across the gathered forces. "Set up camp here!" Godwyn called out. "I want trenches dug, trebuchets and catapults assembled. We need to be ready for anything."

Maeve turned to the Host and the Redmanes. "You're with me. We're heading east."

As they made their way to the eastern area, Maeve led them into what was once the site of a great battle during the Shattering. The ground was still scarred, remnants of long-ago conflict scattered across the landscape.

Seroch watched Maeve carefully as she surveyed the area, her expression distant and thoughtful. After several long moments of silence, he finally spoke up. "My lady? Your orders?"

Maeve blinked, coming back to the present. Her voice was crisp and authoritative as she responded. "Right. Have the men set up camp immediately. I want trenches dug here, here, and here." She pointed to strategic locations. "Two patrol units - one to secure the Azuria Hero's Grave, the other to guard the entrance to the Grand Lift of Rold."

Her eyes scanned the ridges surrounding them. "Those high points - we can set up watchtowers there. Good vantage points for archers and early warning systems."

Seroch nodded, quickly relaying the orders to the various officers. As the men began to move out, carrying out Maeve's commands, she turned her gaze back to the horizon.

"My lady," Seroch ventured, "if I may ask... what are you thinking?"

Maeve was quiet for a moment before responding. "I'm thinking about how different things are now, Seroch. How much has changed... and how much is still at stake." She shook her head, as if to clear it. "But that's neither here nor there. We have a job to do, and by the Erdtree, we're going to do it right."

Seroch nodded, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "Indeed we will, Lady Maeve. The men are ready to follow your lead."

"Good," she replied firmly, before taking flight.

—-

At the Divine Tower in Limgrave, as Magnus and his group were preparing to infuse the structure with unalloyed gold, a sudden wave of disorientation washed over him. Unlike his usual visions of the future, this time Magnus found himself thrust into a scene from the past.

He saw his mother, Marika, her face contorted with fear and determination as she ran from encroaching flames. The vision was vivid, almost tangible, and as it faded, a searing pain erupted in Magnus's chest. He gasped, falling to his knees.

Gwen, ever vigilant, was the first to react. "My lord!" she cried out, rushing to Magnus's side. "Something's wrong!"

Miquella quickly made his way over, kneeling beside his brother. His hands glowed with a soft light as he began examining Magnus. "What happened? What did you see?"

The others gathered around, concern etched on their faces. Polyanna's voice trembled as she asked, "Father, are you alright?"

Magnus tried to wave off their worry. "I'm fine, really. It was just a vision, but... different. Of the past, not the future."

He attempted to stand, but as he did, everyone took a sudden step back. Confusion flickered across Magnus's face. "What? What is it?"

Eleanora, her own eyes bearing the mark of dragon communion, stepped forward cautiously. "Your eyes, Lord Magnus... they've changed."

"Changed?" Magnus echoed, a note of alarm in his voice. "How?"

Eleanora studied him intently. "They're... draconic. But not like mine or other dragon communion eyes. Yours have streaks of red lightning flickering through them."

Magnus turned to Miquella, realization dawning on both their faces. Miquella voiced what they were both thinking: "It must be connected to Placidusax's heart. The power of time you absorbed..."

"It's manifesting in ways we didn't anticipate," Magnus finished, a mix of awe and concern in his voice.

Mary, ever practical, asked, "Is it dangerous? Could it hurt Father?"

Miquella shook his head slowly. "I don't think so, but we can't be certain."

Magnus took a deep breath, centering himself. "We'll deal with this later. For now, we have a task to complete. The Divine Tower won't infuse itself with unalloyed gold."

The group hesitated, still worried about Magnus's condition.

"I'm fine," he assured them, his voice firm but gentle. "We can't let this distract us from our mission. The fate of the Lands Between depends on our success."

Slowly, the others nodded, though concern still lingered in their eyes. As they resumed their work on the Divine Tower, Miquella kept a close watch on his brother, his mind racing with possibilities and potential consequences of Magnus's newfound power.

As they approached the Divine Tower of Caelid, Magnus felt another vision overtake him. This one, a continuation of the last, hit him with even greater force.

He saw his mother, Marika, her stone form crumbled and broken, slowly reforming within the heart of the Erdtree. But as she took shape, flames of sickly yellow and orange engulfed the great tree. The Lord of Frenzied Flame stood before it, arms outstretched as chaos consumed all.

The pain in Magnus's chest intensified, driving him to his knees once more. He could hear the alarmed shouts of his companions, but their voices seemed distant, distorted.

"Father!"
"Lord Magnus!"
"Brother, can you hear me?"

As Magnus looked up, he realized with a start that everything around him was moving in slow motion. His companions' mouths moved at a fraction of their normal speed, their gestures languid and drawn out. His power over time had manifested unbidden, warping the flow of moments around him.

Concentrating hard, fighting against the disorientation and pain, Magnus managed to regain control. The world snapped back into its normal pace, leaving him gasping.

Gwen was at his side instantly, her face etched with worry. "My lord, this is too much. We need to take you back, find help."

Eleanora, though equally concerned, interjected pragmatically. "Back where, Gwen? Who could possibly understand what's happening to him? There's no expert on... on whatever this is."

"I don't care!" Gwen snapped, her protective instincts flaring. "We can't just stand by and watch him suffer!"

The girls huddled nearby, their faces a mix of fear and concern for their father. Miquella knelt beside Magnus, his brow furrowed in concentration as he attempted to assess his brother's condition.

Magnus, however, shook his head firmly despite the lingering pain. "No," he said, his voice hoarse but determined. "We're not going back. We're too close to finishing our task."

"But Father," Mary began to protest.

Magnus cut her off gently but firmly. "There's one more tower left. We need to see this through. The fate of the Lands Between depends on it."

Miquella studied his brother's face, seeing the resolve there. "Are you certain you can handle it, Magnus? These visions, this manifestation of power... it's clearly taking a toll on you."

Magnus nodded, slowly rising to his feet with Gwen's help. "I have to. We've come too far to turn back now."

The group exchanged worried glances, but they knew better than to argue further. Magnus's determination was set.

"Alright," Miquella conceded. "But the moment we're done with the last tower, we're finding a way to address this. Agreed?"

Magnus managed a weak smile. "Agreed, brother."

As they approached the final Divine Tower, the ruins of Leyndell stretched out below them. From their vantage point in the sky, they could see Maeve and her forces busily preparing for the impending invasion, the landscape dotted with encampments and fortifications.

Landing at the tower, they immediately set to work. As Magnus approached the center of the structure, he felt the familiar pull of a vision. This time, however, he was prepared. Instead of allowing the power to overwhelm him, he focused intently, using his newfound control over time to slow the vision itself.

The scene unfolded before him with crystal clarity:

He saw the Tarnished, the one who would become the Lord of Frenzied Flame, approaching his mother's stone form. Suddenly, the Tarnished cried out in pain, clutching at his face before collapsing to the ground. Marika's petrified body crumbled, her head separating from her torso.

But what happened next caught Magnus completely off guard. Streams of golden light – the grace of the Greater Will – poured in from the outside, converging on Marika's shattered form. It was as if all the grace in the world had been recalled, abandoning everything and everyone else, solely to revive Marika. This, Magnus realized, was how she had managed to escape that fateful day.

As the vision faded, Magnus stumbled, nearly losing his balance. The others rushed to his side, supporting him.

"Father!" Mary cried out, her arm around his waist.

"I'm alright," Magnus assured them, though his voice was strained. "I saw... I saw how it happened. How Mother escaped."

Miquella's eyes widened. "What did you see, brother?"

Magnus shook his head, still processing the implications of his vision. "Later. We need to finish this first."

Steadying himself, Magnus approached the rune altar at the heart of the tower. The others watched anxiously as he placed his hands on the ancient stone, ready to begin the final infusion of unalloyed gold.

Miquella stepped forward. "We can wait if you need more time to recover."

Magnus took a deep breath, his eyes flickering with draconic power and red lightning. "No, we've come too far to hesitate now. Let's finish what we started."

As Magnus began channeling his power into the altar, the air around them crackled with energy. The unalloyed gold seemed to come alive, spreading through the tower's structure like golden veins.

As the infusion neared completion, Magnus's mind raced with the implications of what he'd seen. The Greater Will's actions, his mother's escape, the rise of the Lord of Frenzied Flame – all pieces of a puzzle that was slowly coming together. But what did it all mean for their current struggle?

As the last of the unalloyed gold merged with the tower's essence, a wave of energy pulsed outward, linking all the Divine Towers they had transformed.

Magnus found himself adrift in a sea of visions, each more vivid than the last:

In the Land of Shadow, he saw a young Marika, her golden hair gleaming in the dim light of the Shaman Village. Her grandmother, a wise figure with eyes that held ancient wisdom, taught her the ways of their people.
The scene shifted to Farum Azula, where Morana, the Gloam-Eyed Queen, stood regally beside the massive form of Placidusax. Their rule seemed absolute, until a golden light descended from the sky, bypassing Morana to touch Marika instead. Morana's eyes, once filled with benevolence, now burned with rage and betrayal.

Magnus witnessed the birth of the Godskins, twisted beings born of Morana's fury and desire for vengeance. Their creation was a dark ritual, flesh and cloth merging in unholy union.

The vision changed again, showing Lord Godfrey's arrival in the Lands Between. The first Elden Lord, resplendent in his strength, taking Marika's hand in marriage. Their union seemed to herald a new age of prosperity.

A somber scene followed: Marika, her face a mask of stoic grief, standing before seven small caskets. As they were carried away to their mausoleums, a single tear escaped her eye, quickly brushed away.

Radagon's wedding to Rennala was a joyous affair, the air filled with celestial magic. But the happiness was short-lived, as Magnus saw his father leaving Rennala, taking Radahn, Rykard, and Ranni with him. Rennala's anguish was palpable.

Messmer's exile played out before him, his journey through the harsh lands beyond the mist. His conquests in the Land of Shadow were both terrible and awe-inspiring.

A figure wreathed in fading embers appeared – Midra, the failed Lord of Frenzied Flame.

The Goddess of Rot, a being of terrifying beauty, reached out with tendrils of scarlet, touching the newborn Malenia. The curse took root, setting in motion events that would shape the future of the Lands Between.

Radahn, young and ambitious, raised his hands to the sky. The stars themselves seemed to halt in their courses, frozen by his will.

A tender moment: Miquella, still trapped in a child's body, cutting his palm to nurture the sapling that would become the Haligtree. His blood mixed with the earth, imbuing the tree with his power and hope. The eyes of some Outer God watching him.

Ranni's machinations unfolded, the Night of Black Knives taking shape in secret meetings and whispered plans. The fate of Godwyn the Golden hung in the balance.

Magnus witnessed Godwyn's death, the horror of it rippling across the land. Marika's grief was a tangible thing, her anguish threatening to tear the very fabric of reality.

Finally, he saw the moment that changed everything: Marika, her resolve hardened by loss and betrayal, shattering the Elden Ring. The sound of it breaking echoed through time and space.

As the visions faded, Magnus found himself in darkness. A familiar voice spoke: "That's where it all started, that's where it all shall end."

"Mother!" Magnus called out, recognizing Marika's voice. But silence answered him.

Suddenly, flames erupted around him, and from them emerged a figure he knew all too well – the Lord of Frenzied Flame. Before Magnus could react, his mother's voice returned, carrying a message that sent a chill through him:

"To light the towers, you must shatter the old order, and bring about a new one."

The implications of her words hung heavy in the air as the vision began to fade, leaving Magnus with more questions than answers, and a growing sense that the path ahead would demand sacrifices he had not anticipated.

As Magnus stood motionless, caught in the grip of his vision, the others watched with growing concern. His head had jerked back as usual, but this time, he didn't reel in pain or collapse. Instead, he remained frozen, eyes wide open but unseeing.

Gwen and Eleanora stood ready to catch him, muscles tense with anticipation, but the expected moment never came. As seconds stretched into minutes, the atmosphere grew thick with worry.

Mary, ever the protective older sister, did her best to keep her siblings calm. "It's alright," she assured them, though her own voice trembled slightly. "Father's strong. He'll come out of this."

Polyanna fidgeted nervously. "But it's never lasted this long before. What if something's wrong?"

"Hush," Mary said gently. "Uncle Miquella will figure it out."

Miquella, his brow furrowed in concentration, gestured to Amy. "Lift me up. I need to get a closer look."

As Amy gently raised Miquella, he peered into his brother's eyes. What he saw made him gasp. The normal eyes were gone, replaced by something far more unsettling.

"By the Erdtree," Miquella breathed.

"What is it?" Gwen demanded, her protective instincts flaring.

Miquella described what he saw: one eye blue with hints of white, the other red with flecks of black. Gold and red lightning crackled across both, appearing every few seconds.

"I think," Miquella said slowly, his mind racing, "the blue and white represent his connection to the Rune of Life. The red and black... that must be his link to Maeve's Rune of Death."

"And the lightning?" Eleanora asked, her voice tight with worry.

"The gold... that's likely Mother's grace within him. The red lightning, I believe, is Placidusax's power of time."

As minutes continued to tick by with no change, the panic began to set in. Maureen, usually so composed, paced back and forth. "We have to do something," she insisted. "We can't just stand here!"

Miquella, realizing the gravity of the situation, made a quick decision. "Millicent," he called, "I need you to fly to the camp. Find Maeve and Godwyn. Tell them what's happened."

Millicent nodded, without a word, she spread her wings and took off, streaking towards the distant camp.

As they watched her go, Miquella turned back to Magnus, his hand resting gently on his brother's shoulder. "Come on, Magnus," he whispered. "Find your way back to us."

—

Maeve stood atop a small hill, overseeing the bustling activity of the camp. Her voice rang out, sharp and clear, as she continued to issue orders.

"You there! Move those barricades to the eastern perimeter. And for the love of the Erdtree, try not to drop them this time!"

She noticed a group of soldiers struggling with a particularly heavy piece of equipment. Without hesitation, she strode over, her wings folded tightly against her back.

"Stand aside," she commanded. Grasping the massive object, she lifted it with ease, carrying it to its designated spot. The men watched in awe, a mix of fear and newfound respect in their eyes.

Maeve caught their stares and raised an eyebrow. "Well? Don't just stand there gawking. There's work to be done!"

As the soldiers scrambled back to their tasks, Maeve allowed herself a small, satisfied smirk. She was still as hard and disciplined as ever, but she was learning to show a different side of herself – one that worked alongside her men rather than above them.

Turning her attention to a group of Redmane knights, she approached with purpose. "You lot, with the gravity magic. I want more gravity arrows produced. Double the current stock by nightfall."

One of the knights spoke up hesitantly. "My lady, that's a tall order. The process is delicate and time-consuming."

Maeve's eyes narrowed dangerously. For a moment, her old instincts flared – to punish, to demand unquestionable obedience. But she caught herself, taking a deep breath.

"I understand the difficulty," she said, her voice controlled. "But our enemies won't wait for us to be ready. If you need additional resources or manpower, speak with Commander Seroch. Make it happen."

The knight nodded, a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes at her unexpected reasonableness.

Suddenly, a horn blared across the camp. A guard's voice called out, "Flyer inbound!"

Maeve's head snapped towards the sound. She strode quickly to the hill where Seroch stood, scanning the horizon.

"Report," she demanded.

Seroch squinted into the distance. "Appears to be one of the archangels, my lady."

Maeve, with her superior demigod eyesight, focused on the approaching figure. "It's Millicent," she confirmed, a hint of confusion in her voice. "But why is she alone?"

As Millicent drew closer, Maeve felt a sudden tightness in her chest. Something was wrong. She could see the panic etched on her niece's face, growing clearer with each passing second.

Seroch, noticing Maeve's sudden tension, asked, "My lady? What do you think has happened?"

Maeve remained silent, her mind racing through possibilities, each worse than the last. When she finally spoke, her voice was unnaturally quiet. "Seroch, send a rider to Godwyn immediately. Tell him... tell him something's happened to Magnus."

"Are you certain?" Seroch asked, surprise evident in his tone.

Maeve's eyes flashed dangerously. "Do not question me, Commander. Send the rider. Now."

Without waiting for a response, without even allowing Millicent to reach them, Maeve unfurled her dark wings and launched herself into the sky. As she soared towards her niece, her thoughts were a chaotic mix of worry and determination.

'Damn you, Magnus,' she thought. 'What have you gotten yourself into now?'

As she flew, the wind whipping through her crimson hair, Maeve steeled herself for whatever news Millicent might bring. The fate of the Lands Between might hang in the balance, but in this moment, all Maeve cared about was her brother.

The tense silence at the Divine Tower was shattered by a thunderous boom. Maeve landed with such force that the stone beneath her feet cracked, and a gust of wind swept over the gathered group. Her dark wings folded against her back as she strode purposefully towards Magnus and Miquella, her crimson hair whipping in the wind she had created.

The archangels and Magnus's daughters instinctively parted, creating a path for the formidable Dark Angel. Gwen and Eleanora exchanged worried glances, recognizing the barely contained fury and concern in Maeve's eyes.

Maeve came to a stop before her motionless twin, her gaze fixed on his mismatched, lightning-streaked eyes. Her voice was low and tightly controlled as she addressed Miquella. "How long has he been like this?"

Miquella, his own concern evident in his furrowed brow, replied, "Half an hour, perhaps more. We've never seen anything like this before."

Maeve's jaw clenched as she processed this information. After a moment, she let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of worry she was trying so hard to conceal.

Miquella, grasping at any potential solution, turned to Maeve. "When you were children, did anything like this ever happen during his visions? Any prolonged states or unusual manifestations?"

Maeve shook her head, her eyes never leaving Magnus's face. "No, never. His visions always came and went in an instant. Half the time, they occurred in his dreams." Her voice softened almost imperceptibly as she continued, "I remember... he would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming after seeing something terrible."

For a brief moment, a flicker of sadness crossed Maeve's face, a rare display of vulnerability. The memory of her young twin, tormented by visions of possible futures, stirred something deep within her. But as quickly as it appeared, the emotion was shuttered away, replaced by her usual hard demeanor.

"This is different," Maeve stated, her voice regaining its edge. "Whatever's happening to him now, it's unprecedented."

Mary, emboldened by concern for her father, stepped forward. "Aunt Maeve, is there anything you can do? Anything at all?"

Maeve turned her piercing gaze to her niece, causing Mary to flinch slightly. But when she spoke, her tone was less harsh than expected. "I don't know, child. But I intend to find out."

Turning back to Miquella, Maeve's voice took on a commanding tone. "Tell me everything that happened leading up to this. Every detail, no matter how insignificant it might seem."

As Miquella began to recount the events, Maeve listened intently, her mind racing through possibilities. She might present a hard exterior to the world, but inside, her thoughts were a tumult of worry and determination. Whatever had ensnared her twin in this vision, whatever power held him captive, Maeve was resolved to find a way to bring him back.

After listening to Miquella's explanation, Maeve held up a hand, silencing him mid-sentence. Her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath, visibly struggling to maintain her composure. The others watched in tense silence, recognizing the storm brewing beneath her surface.

Maeve's mind raced, conflicting emotions warring within her. She didn't want to lash out, not here, not now. The girls had finally started to warm up to her, and she didn't want to undo that progress. And Miquella... their growing closeness, that awkward yet passionate kiss they'd shared, it all flashed through her mind.

But as she opened her eyes and looked at Magnus's frozen form, all other considerations faded away. Her love for her twin, her other half, overshadowed everything else.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet but trembling with barely contained anger. "Why, Miquella? Why in the name of the Erdtree did you let him keep pushing himself when you saw he was getting worse?"

Miquella's eyes widened at the accusation. "Maeve, you have to understand. The urgency of our task-"

"Urgency?" Maeve cut him off, her voice rising. "What good is urgency if it leaves him like this?" She gestured sharply at Magnus.

"He insisted, Maeve," Miquella tried to explain. "You know how he is. He wouldn't be deterred-"

Maeve's control finally snapped. "And you couldn't find it in your infinite wisdom to stop him?" she snarled, taking a step towards Miquella. "For all your vaunted intelligence, you couldn't see this coming?"

The girls gasped at Maeve's outburst. Gwen moved to intervene, but Eleanora held her back, shaking her head slightly.

Miquella's face fell, hurt evident in his eyes. "That's not fair, Maeve. We all agreed on the importance of this mission. Magnus knew the risks-"

"Risks?" Maeve laughed bitterly. "This isn't a risk, Miquella. This is my brother, your brother, trapped in some kind of vision-induced coma, and you let it happen!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Maeve regretted them. She saw the pain flash across Miquella's face, saw the shock and disappointment in the eyes of her nieces. But her worry and anger wouldn't let her back down.

"I..." Miquella started, his voice uncharacteristically small.

Maeve turned away, unable to bear the hurt in his eyes. "Save it," she muttered. "We need to focus on bringing him back. Then... then we can discuss your lapse in judgment."

The tension in the air was palpable as Maeve stalked to the edge of the tower, needing a moment to collect herself. She knew she'd gone too far, knew she'd have to make amends later. But right now, all that mattered was Magnus. Everything else, including her budding feelings for Miquella, would have to wait.

Miquella looked at Maeve, the hurt evident in his eyes. Despite the sting of her words, he understood her anger. He knew that if their positions were reversed, Malenia would react just as fiercely for him. Taking a deep breath, he pushed aside his own feelings and focused on the task at hand.

"Maeve," he called softly, "I need you to tell me about Magnus's visions from childhood. If we can find a connection, perhaps we can find a way to help him."

Maeve turned, meeting Miquella's gaze. For a moment, she wanted to apologize, to take back her harsh words. But her pride and her overwhelming concern for Magnus held her tongue. Instead, she nodded curtly and began to speak.

"His visions started when we were very young. At first, they were simple things – glimpses of the next day's weather or what we'd have for dinner. But as we grew older, they became more intense, more... significant."

As Maeve continued her explanation, detailing the progression of Magnus's visions over the years, a commotion at the edge of the tower interrupted her. Godwyn had arrived, carried there by the frost dragon Borealis.

Godwyn strode towards them, his eyes widening as he took in Magnus's state. "By the Erdtree, what happened here?"

Miquella quickly recounted the events leading up to Magnus's current condition. As he finished, Godwyn fell silent, staring intently at Magnus with a puzzled expression.

After a moment, Maeve grew impatient. "Well? Are you just going to stand there gawking, or do you have something useful to contribute?"

Godwyn turned to Miquella, confusion etched on his face. "Can you not feel it? Surely you of all people should be able to sense this."

"Feel what?" Miquella asked, his brow furrowed.

Godwyn's gaze swept over the group before settling back on Magnus. "I can feel our mother's grace. It's... it's emanating from Magnus."

A hush fell over the group as they processed this information. Maeve stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean, you can feel her grace? How is that possible?"

Godwyn shook his head, still looking bewildered. "I'm not sure. But it's unmistakable. The same grace that flowed through Mother... it's here, within Magnus."

Miquella's mind raced, trying to connect this new piece of information with what they already knew. "This could be significant. If Mother's grace is involved, it might explain the intensity of these visions."

As the group huddled closer, discussing possibilities and theories, the air around them seemed to crackle with tension and potential. Magnus remained motionless, his eyes flickering with otherworldly power, while his siblings and children desperately sought a way to bring him back from whatever realm his mind had become trapped in.

—

As night fell, the group's frustration and exhaustion were palpable. They had spent hours trying every conceivable method to bring Magnus back from his vision-induced state, but to no avail.

Maeve paced back and forth, her wings twitching with agitation. "Try it again, Miquella. The incantation from before."

Miquella sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Maeve, we've tried that three times already. It's not working."

"Then try something else!" Maeve snapped, her patience wearing thin.

Godwyn, who had been watching silently for the past hour, finally spoke up. "I think... I think we need to take a step back."

All eyes turned to him as he continued, "I need to return to the camp. The men need coordination, and we can't neglect our preparations." He turned to his nieces, who looked exhausted and worried. "Girls, you should come with me. You need rest, and staying here... it won't help your father right now."

The girls began to protest, but Godwyn held up a hand. "No arguments. Your father would want you to just stay here in panic."

Reluctantly, the girls agreed, casting worried glances at their motionless father as they prepared to leave.

Godwyn then turned his attention to Maeve and Miquella, who stood awkwardly apart from each other, tension evident in their postures. He could sense the unresolved conflict between them, and made a decision.

"Gwen, Eleanora," he called. The two archangels approached, looking expectantly at him. "I need you to fly to Liurnia. Wait for Malenia to arrive and inform her of the situation. She needs to know what's happening."

Gwen and Eleanora exchanged a glance before nodding. "Yes, Lord Godwyn," Gwen replied. With a final look at Magnus, they took to the skies, leaving only Magnus, Miquella, and Maeve at the tower.

As the others departed, the silence between the remaining three grew heavy. Godwyn looked between Maeve and Miquella, sensing the unspoken words hanging in the air.

"I'll leave you two to... sort things out," Godwyn said carefully. "Send word immediately if there's any change."

With that, he ushered the girls away, leaving Maeve and Miquella alone with the unconscious Magnus.

The tension between them was palpable as they stood in silence, the weight of their earlier argument and the stress of the situation pressing down on them. Maeve stared at Magnus, her face a mask of worry and frustration, while Miquella's gaze flickered between his siblings, his brilliant mind still racing for a solution.

Miquella worked tirelessly, his hands weaving intricate patterns in the air as he combined an incantation with a complex ritual. Yet, as the final words left his lips, Magnus remained unchanged.

Maeve let out a frustrated curse. "It's pointless," she spat, stalking to the edge of the tower.

Miquella watched her for a moment, concern etched on his face, before turning back to his work. His mind raced, searching for any solution they hadn't tried yet.

After a few moments of tense silence, a quiet voice broke through the night air. "I'm sorry."

Miquella turned, surprised to see Maeve still facing away from him, her shoulders tense.

"What?" he asked, not sure he had heard correctly.

Maeve took a deep breath before continuing. "I said I'm sorry. For earlier. I... I tried to control my anger. I didn't want to lash out, especially not at you."

She finally turned to face him, her eyes a mix of regret and lingering worry. "I shouldn't have said those things."

Miquella shook his head. "No, Maeve. I'm the one who should be apologizing. You were right. I should have insisted Magnus stop when I saw how the visions were affecting him. My eagerness to complete our task... it clouded my judgment."

Maeve sighed, running a hand through her crimson hair. "Part of me still blames you," she admitted. "But I know that's not fair. Magnus is stubborn. He would have continued regardless."

She took a step closer to Miquella. "The truth is... you've been a good comfort to me lately. I've enjoyed every moment in your company, and I... I don't want to ruin that just because I can be a bitch sometimes."

Miquella's lips quirked into a small smile. "A bitch? You? I hadn't noticed."

Maeve snorted, appreciating his attempt at levity. "Don't push it, princeling."

"In all seriousness," Miquella said, his tone softening, "your reaction was justified. I know how much Magnus means to you. Your bond... it's something special."

Maeve's gaze drifted to Magnus's still form. "He means everything to me," she whispered, her usual hard exterior cracking slightly. "We've been through so much together. The good, the bad... even when we were at odds, he was still my other half."

She swallowed hard, memories flooding her mind. "I died for him once, you know. And I'd do it again. A million times over if I had to."

Miquella reached out, gently taking her hand. "We'll bring him back, Maeve. Together. I promise you that."

Maeve looked at their joined hands, then back at Miquella's face. For a moment, the tension of the day seemed to melt away, replaced by a different kind of energy.

"Miquella, I-" she started, but was cut off by a sudden gasp from Magnus.

They both whirled around, hope and fear warring in their hearts as they rushed to Magnus's side. Whatever moment they had been about to share would have to wait. Right now, all that mattered was bringing Magnus back from the brink.

As Magnus suddenly began to seize, Maeve and Miquella's moment of connection was shattered. Magnus's body fell to the ground, writhing in pain, his limbs flailing uncontrollably.

"Miquella, do something!" Maeve shouted, panic evident in her voice.

Miquella rushed forward, his hands glowing with healing magic as he tried to stabilize Magnus. "It's not working!" he cried, frustration and fear mingling in his tone.

Maeve watched in horror as her twin lost all control, his body contorting unnaturally. Suddenly, Magnus began muttering, his voice strained and urgent.

"The Blade! The Blade! Melina knows the blade!"

The words repeated over and over, growing more frantic with each iteration. Maeve and Miquella exchanged a confused glance, trying to make sense of Magnus's cryptic message.

Without warning, Magnus's arm swung out violently, catching Miquella square in the chest. The force of the blow sent Miquella flying off the edge of the tower.

"No!" Maeve screamed, her wings unfurling instantly as she launched herself into the air. Her heart pounded as she raced to catch Miquella, pushing herself to fly faster than she ever had before.

She caught him just in time, wrapping her arms around him protectively. As she held him close, she could feel the unnatural give of his ribcage – some of his ribs were definitely cracked from Magnus's blow.

Carrying Miquella back to the tower, Maeve set him down gently. Miquella winced in pain but immediately began channeling healing magic into himself, mending the damage.

Their attention snapped back to Magnus as his seizing suddenly stopped. His eyes, which had been wild and unfocused, reverted to their normal state before slowly closing.

Maeve felt her heart stop for a moment. She rushed to Magnus's side, fear gripping her. "Magnus? Magnus!" she called, shaking him gently.

To her immense relief, she realized he was still breathing, his chest rising and falling steadily.

"He's... he's just unconscious," Maeve said, her voice shaky with relief and lingering fear.

Miquella, still healing himself, moved closer to examine Magnus. "Whatever vision or state he was in, it seems to have passed. But..." he trailed off, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"But what?" Maeve demanded, her protective instincts still on high alert.

Miquella shook his head slowly. "I'm not sure. Something's changed. And those words he was saying... about the blade and Melina..."

Maeve nodded, her mind racing. "We need to figure out what that means. But first, we need to make sure Magnus is truly okay."

As they returned to Godwyn's camp, Magnus was carefully laid down to rest. The girls, exhausted from worry and the day's events, retreated to their father's tent, keeping a vigilant watch over him.

Maeve sought out Godwyn first, updating him on the situation. "He's stable for now," she reported, her voice tight with lingering concern. "But we still don't know what triggered this or what those cryptic words mean."

Godwyn nodded gravely. "We'll figure it out, Maeve. For now, get some rest. You look exhausted."

Maeve shook her head. "Not yet. I need to check on Miquella first."

She made her way to the tent where Miquella was recovering, finding him sitting on a cot, his healing magic having finally mended his cracked ribs.

"How are you feeling?" Maeve asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft as she entered the tent.

Miquella looked up, offering a small smile. "Much better, thanks to you. I owe you my life, Maeve."

Maeve waved her hand dismissively, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I couldn't let our resident genius plummet to his death, could I? Who else would come up with all these complicated plans?"

Miquella chuckled, but he could see the lingering shame in Maeve's eyes. "Maeve, about earlier... it's really okay. I understand-"

"No," Maeve cut him off, shaking her head. "It's not okay. I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that. I just..." she trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

Miquella patted the space beside him on the cot, inviting Maeve to sit. As she did, he noticed her eyes widening slightly.

"You've grown," she remarked, realizing Miquella had gained several more inches in height.

He nodded, a hint of wonder in his voice. "It seems the curse truly is broken. But that's not important right now."

Maeve took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Look, I've never been good at this... emotional stuff. It's always been easier to push people away, to be the hard-ass everyone expects me to be."

Miquella listened silently, encouraging her to continue with a gentle nod.

"I've never... I've never been in love," Maeve admitted, the words feeling strange on her tongue. "I don't even know what it's supposed to feel like. I always thought the whole idea was pointless, a weakness that could be exploited."

She let out a bitter laugh. "Hell, for the longest time, I thought caring about anyone other than Magnus was a liability. But then..."

"Then what?" Miquella prompted gently when she trailed off.

Maeve met his eyes, a vulnerability there that she rarely showed. "Then you happened. This... whatever this is between us. And it scares the shit out of me, Miquella."

"Why does it scare you?" he asked, his voice soft and free of judgment.

"Because I don't know how to do this!" Maeve exclaimed, frustration evident in her tone. "I don't know how to care about someone without fucking it up. Without driving them away because I'm too much of an asshole."

She looked down at her hands, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. "Magnus was always the only one who stood by me, even when I was at my worst. He saw past all the anger and the bullshit. And I'm terrified of losing that with you too."

Miquella reached out, gently taking her hand. "Maeve, look at me."

She raised her eyes to meet his, surprise evident in her gaze at the warmth she found there.

"Can I be the second?" he asked softly. "After Magnus, can I be the second person who always stands by you? Who sees past the walls you put up?"

Maeve felt a warmth spread through her chest, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. She let out a small laugh, blinking back unexpected tears. "Please," she said, surprising herself with how much she meant it.

Slowly, they leaned towards each other, sharing another small, tender kiss. As they pulled apart, Maeve couldn't help but chuckle.

"Still feels a bit awkward," she admitted, a hint of her usual snark returning.

Miquella nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Agreed. But I think I like awkward. It's real."

"Real," Maeve echoed, testing the word. "I can work with real."

They sat there for a moment, hands still intertwined, a comfortable silence settling between them. Maeve broke it first, her voice thoughtful.

Maeve Laughed and then spoke. "I'm probably going to mess this up a hundred times over," she warned.

"Probably," Miquella agreed with a chuckle. "But I'll be here to help you fix it every time."

As they sat there, the challenges ahead were still daunting, but in that moment, they found a small measure of peace in each other's company.

—

As Malenia burst into the tent, her golden prosthetics gleaming in the dim light, the air seemed to crackle with her worried energy. Her eyes immediately locked onto Magnus's still form on the bed, the girls sleeping nearby, exhausted from their vigil.

"Magnus," she whispered, rushing to his side. Her hand gently caressed his face, searching for any sign of consciousness.

Maeve and Miquella entered the tent moments later, their faces etched with concern and fatigue. Malenia looked up at them, her eyes demanding answers.

"What happened? Why won't he wake up?" she asked, her voice tight with emotion.

Miquella stepped forward, his newly gained height more apparent as he stood beside his twin sister. "We're not sure, Malenia. He's stable, but... unresponsive."

Maeve nodded, adding, "He had some kind of intense vision. When he came out of it, he was muttering something about a blade and Melina."

Malenia's brow furrowed, a flash of annoyance crossing her face. "Melina? But she wasn't supposed to arrive until the end of the week with Loretta and the remaining Haligtree forces."

"We know," Maeve said, her tone reassuring. "I've already sent someone to expedite the process. They should be here much sooner now."

Malenia turned back to Magnus, her hand finding his. "And you're certain you have no idea what this 'blade' could be?"

Miquella shook his head. "None. But Magnus seemed adamant that Melina knows about it. Whatever it is, it must be important."

A soft groan from nearby alerted them to the girls stirring. Mary, the eldest, blinked awake, her eyes widening as she saw her mother.

"Mother!" she exclaimed, quickly rousing her sisters. "When did you arrive?"

Malenia managed a small smile for her daughters. "Just now. Lansseax flew us here as soon as we got word of what happened."

The girls gathered around, a mixture of relief at their mother's presence and lingering worry for their father evident on their faces.

"Has there been any change?" Polyanna asked hopefully.

Maeve shook her head. "Not yet, kiddo. But we're not giving up."

Malenia looked between Maeve and Miquella, noticing something different in their dynamic. Despite the gravity of the situation, she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Is there something else I should know about?" she asked, her gaze flicking between the two.

Maeve and Miquella exchanged a quick glance, a hint of color rising to their cheeks.

"Later," Miquella said softly. "Right now, we need to focus on Magnus and figuring out what this blade could be."

Malenia nodded, turning her attention back to her unconscious husband. As she sat by his side, holding his hand, the others began to discuss their next steps.
The arrival of Radahn, Messmer, Siluria, Rennala, and Rellana with their forces brought a new energy to the camp.

Godwyn led Messmer towards Magnus's tent. As they entered, they found Maeve, Miquella, Lansseax, and Malenia gathered around Magnus's still form.

"Messmer," Godwyn said, his voice low and serious, "I need you to confirm something for me. Can you... can you feel our mother's grace here?"

Messmer's eyes widened, surprise evident on his usually composed face. He stepped closer to Magnus, his brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "Yes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can feel it. It's faint, but unmistakable."

Miquella looked between Godwyn and Messmer, confusion clear in his eyes. "I don't understand. Why can only you two sense it? I've tried, but I feel nothing out of the ordinary."

Maeve, who had been leaning against a tent pole with her arms crossed, let out a bitter laugh. "Isn't it obvious?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's because they were Mother's favorites. Magnus too, of course."

The others turned to look at her, surprised by the venom in her tone. Maeve shrugged, a hint of her old anger flashing in her eyes. "What? We all know it's true. Mother always had her golden boys." She glanced at Messmer, "and her special red headed snake."

Godwyn, instead of being offended, nodded thoughtfully. "You know, Maeve... you might actually be onto something there."

"What do you mean?" Malenia asked, her hand still clasping Magnus's.

Godwyn paced slowly, his mind working through the implications. "Think about it. Magnus, Messmer, and I... we did spend more time with Mother. She guided us more directly, invested more of her personal attention in our development."

Messmer nodded, adding, "And she bestowed more of her grace upon us."

Miquella's eyes widened with understanding. "So you're saying that this closer connection to Mother's grace is why you can sense it now in Magnus?"

"It's possible," Godwyn confirmed. "Our attunement to her power might be more refined because of our history with her."

Maeve snorted, but there was less bite in her tone now. "Well, isn't that just perfect. Mother's favoritism coming in handy even now."

Godwyn looked between Maeve and Miquella, noticing the subtle shift in their dynamic, but chose not to comment on it. Instead, he turned back to Magnus.

Malenia, her voice cutting through the contemplative silence, spoke what they were all thinking: "We need Melina here. Now. Whatever this blade is, whatever Magnus saw... she might be our only chance at understanding it."

The others nodded in agreement, the tension in the tent palpable. As they began to discuss their next steps, the weight of their task settled heavily upon them. The coming days would test them all, but for now, their focus remained on bringing Magnus back and unraveling the mystery of his vision.

Miquella, his brow furrowed in concentration, turned to Godwyn and Messmer. "I have an idea," he said, his voice tinged with hope. "Perhaps the grace Mother bestowed upon you could help Magnus. If you two could try some of the incantations I've been using..."

Godwyn nodded, stepping forward. "Of course. Anything that might help."

Messmer, usually stoic, showed a flicker of uncertainty. "I'm not sure how much of Mother's grace remains in me, but I'll do whatever I must for our brother."

Miquella began guiding them through a complex healing spell, his voice steady as he recited the incantation. Godwyn and Messmer followed along, their hands hovering over Magnus's still form.

As they spoke the words, something unexpected happened. A soft, golden glow began to emanate from their hands – a glow that hadn't appeared when Miquella had performed the spell.

Maeve's eyes widened. "What in the name of the Erdtree...?"

They watched in awe as tendrils of golden light seemed to seep from Godwyn and Messmer, flowing into Magnus. The two men looked as surprised as anyone else.

"I... I didn't even know I still had any of Mother's grace within me," Godwyn murmured, his voice filled with wonder.

Messmer nodded in agreement. "Nor did I. It's as if it was dormant all this time."

As the last of the golden light faded into Magnus, his body began to shift. A collective gasp filled the tent as Magnus stirred in his sleep.

"Magnus?" Malenia called out softly, hope evident in her voice. "Can you hear us?"

But as Magnus began to speak, they all fell silent. His voice was strained, filled with pain, but more shockingly – it wasn't his voice at all. The words that came from his lips were spoken in a distinctly feminine tone, one that sent chills down their spines.

"The blade... the blade that severs fate," Magnus's body spoke, his face contorting in agony. "Melina... she knows. She must... she must find it. My daughter.."

Maeve stepped closer, her eyes wide. "That's... that's Mother's voice," she whispered.

The voice continued, growing more urgent. "The Three Fingers seek to consume all. Their chaos... it must be stopped. The warning... heed the warning..."

Magnus's body writhed on the bed, sweat beading on his forehead. The others watched, transfixed and horrified, as Marika's voice continued to speak through him.

"My son... my Magnus. His soul, his grace... they are the key. The bridge between order and chaos. He must... he must… an empyrean must ascend."

The voice trailed off, replaced by a pained groan from Magnus. For a moment, the tent was filled with a tense silence, broken only by Magnus's labored breathing.

Miquella was the first to speak. "By the Erdtree," he breathed. "Mother... she's communicating through Magnus somehow."

Malenia clutched Magnus's hand tighter. "But what does it all mean? The blade that severs fate? Magnus's soul being a bridge?"

As they began to discuss their next steps, Magnus remained still once more, the echo of Marika's words hanging heavily in the air. The mystery had only deepened, and with it, the sense that they were standing on the precipice of something monumental.

Chapter 102: A SacrificeNotes:

Check out the discord server. Will be posting important updates on there.

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Chapter Text

As Radahn strode into the camp, Melina following close behind, the atmosphere in the tent shifted. The massive warrior had used his gravity magic to expedite their journey from Dominula, where he'd intercepted Melina's arriving boats.

Maeve, her eyes narrowing, was the first to speak. "Well, it's about time. Did you take the scenic route?"

Radahn, unfazed by her sharp tone, simply shrugged. "We came as fast as we could, sister."

Melina stepped forward, her heterochromatic eyes scanning the room before settling on Magnus's still form. "What's happened? You said it was urgent."

Miquella quickly recounted the events - Magnus's vision, his collapse, and the cryptic message delivered in Marika's voice. Melina's expression grew more troubled with each detail.

"A blade that severs fate?" she murmured, her brow furrowed. "I... I've heard whispers of such a thing, but..."

Maeve, her patience wearing thin, cut in. "Whispers aren't going to help us now. We need action. Can you do anything or not?"

Melina nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving Magnus. "There is an incantation... one Mother taught me. I've used it once before, long ago."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Maeve demanded, though the others could hear the underlying concern in her voice.

Melina knelt beside Magnus, closing her eyes in concentration. After a moment of silence, she began to cast the golden Erdtree incantation.

To everyone's amazement, a small, glowing tree sprouted before her, its branches reaching towards Magnus. The entire tent was bathed in a soft, golden light.

Messmer, usually so quiet, whispered in awe, "It's just like the tree in the Shaman Village..."

"And the one Magnus cast during our battle against Midra," Miquella added, his voice filled with wonder.

The others watched in tense silence as the healing power washed over Magnus. Slowly, his eyelids began to flutter.

"Magnus?" Malenia called softly, hope evident in her voice.

With a groan, Magnus's eyes finally opened. He blinked, disoriented, as he took in the concerned faces surrounding him.

A collective sigh of relief filled the tent. Malenia threw her arms around him, tears of joy streaming down her face. The girls crowded closer, their voices a jumble of excited exclamations.

Maeve, trying to maintain her tough exterior, couldn't quite hide the relief in her voice. "About time you woke up, brother. We were starting to think you'd sleep through the whole war."

Magnus looked around at his family, his expression a mixture of confusion and something deeper - a knowledge that seemed to weigh heavily upon him. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again, seemingly overwhelmed by what he needed to say.

The others exchanged glances, sensing that whatever Magnus had experienced during his vision, it was something monumental.

Magnus struggled to his feet, waving off the concerned hands reaching out to steady him. "I'm fine," he insisted, his voice hoarse but determined. "There's no time for this."

"Magnus, you need to rest," Malenia urged, but he shook his head.

His gaze locked onto Melina, intensity burning in his eyes. "Melina, the Fingerslayer Blade. Do you know where it is?"

At the mention of the name, a hush fell over the tent. Confusion and curiosity mingled on the faces of those present, the ominous name of the weapon sending a chill through the air.

Melina's eyes widened, recognition flickering across her face. "The Fingerslayer Blade? I... I had almost forgotten about it."

"What is this blade?" Miquella asked, voicing the question on everyone's mind.

Melina hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "It's a powerful artifact. My... " she paused, almost saying 'my Tarnished' before catching herself. "The one who became the Lord of Frenzied Flame used it before his fall to chaos. He found it in Nokron and gifted it to Ranni, who used the blade to slay her own Two Fingers."

A collective gasp echoed through the tent. The implications of such a weapon were staggering.

Magnus nodded, his face grim. "We need to find it. Ranni isn't here to tell us where she left it, and you're the only one with any idea of its whereabouts, Melina."

Melina frowned, deep in thought. "It could be where we found Ranni after she slew her Two Fingers. But I can't be certain."

"It's a start," Magnus said, already moving towards the tent's entrance. But as he took a step, his legs buckled beneath him. If not for Malenia's quick reflexes, he would have collapsed to the ground.

"Magnus!" Malenia cried, supporting his weight. "You're in no condition to go anywhere."

Maeve stepped forward, her voice sharp with concern disguised as irritation. "For once, I agree with Malenia. You can barely stand, you fool."

Magnus shook his head, frustration evident on his face. "You don't understand. We need that blade. It's our only hope against the chaos that's coming."

The others exchanged worried glances, torn between the urgency in Magnus's voice and the obvious fact that he was in no state to embark on a quest.

Miquella, ever the voice of reason, spoke up. "Magnus, brother, we hear you. The blade is important. But you need to regain your strength first. Tell us what you saw, what you learned. Let us help you."

Magnus looked around at the concerned faces of his family, the weight of his vision pressing down on him. He knew they were right, but the urgency of what he'd seen made every moment of delay feel like a potential catastrophe.

Finally, he nodded, allowing Malenia to help him back to the bed. "Alright," he conceded. "But we don't have much time. What I saw... it changes everything."

Magnus took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he began to explain. "The blade I spoke of is the Fingerslayer Blade. It's our key to defeating the Three Fingers."

The girls leaned in, their faces a mixture of hope and confusion. Mary, ever the practical one, asked, "Father, if we use this blade on the Three Fingers, will it kill the Frenzied Flame god?"

Magnus and Miquella exchanged a knowing glance before Magnus shook his head. "No, it won't. It's not that simple."

Maeve, her arms crossed, stepped forward. "I don't understand. If we win this war, kill the Lord of Frenzied Flame, use this blade on the Three Fingers, and light the towers... how is that not enough to destroy the Frenzied Flame god?"

Miquella spoke up, his voice calm and measured. "A god, especially one like the Frenzied Flame, doesn't die in the conventional sense. It's not a physical being we can simply strike down."

Magnus nodded in agreement. "The Frenzied Flame represents chaos itself. As long as chaos exists in our world, in any form, the Frenzied Flame will continue to exist in some capacity."

"Then what's the point?" Polyanna asked, frustration evident in her voice.

Magnus leaned forward, his eyes intense. "The point is this: if we accomplish all those things - defeating the Lord of Frenzied Flame, destroying the Three Fingers with the Fingerslayer Blade, and lighting the towers - we'll weaken its influence to such an extent that it will practically have no power in our world anymore."

Miquella added, "Think of it like this: we can't eliminate chaos entirely from existence, but we can reduce its influence to such a degree that it no longer poses a threat to the Lands Between."

Maeve's brow furrowed as she processed this information. "So, we're not destroying it, we're... containing it?"

"Essentially, yes," Magnus confirmed. "We're severing its direct connection to our world, making it nearly impossible for it to exert its will here."

The others in the tent absorbed this information, the weight of their task becoming clearer. It wasn't about destroying an enemy outright, but about fundamentally changing the balance of power in their world.

Malenia, who had been listening intently, spoke up. "This Fingerslayer Blade... it must be incredibly powerful to be capable of such a thing."

Magnus nodded gravely. "It is. And that's why we need to find it as soon as possible. Every moment we delay gives the Frenzied Flame more time to spread its influence."

The atmosphere in the tent grew heavy with the enormity of their task. They had a plan now, a glimmer of hope in the face of chaos, but the road ahead was still fraught with danger and uncertainty.

Melina's voice broke the tense silence. "The Moonlight Plateau. That's where we should look for the Fingerslayer Blade."

Radahn's eyes lit up with recognition. "I know that place well. Ranni and I used to explore there as children with Mother."

He stepped forward, his massive form casting a shadow across the tent. "I could lead a group there. I remember the terrain, the hidden paths-"

Godwyn cut him off, shaking his head. "No, Radahn. We need you here. Your strength and leadership are crucial in preparing our forces for the coming battle."

Magnus, still weak but determined, pushed himself to his feet. "Then I'll go. I can fly there the quickest-"

"Absolutely not!" Malenia's voice was sharp with concern as she placed a steadying hand on Magnus's arm. "You're in no condition to make such a journey."

Godwyn nodded in agreement. "Malenia's right, Magnus. You need to rest and regain your strength. We'll need you at full power when the invasion begins."

Maeve, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, spoke up. "I'd go, but..."

"But you're needed here to coordinate our forces," Miquella finished for her. She nodded, frustration evident on her face.

A moment of silence fell over the group as they grappled with the dilemma. Then, a quiet but determined voice spoke up.

"I'll go."

All eyes turned to Millicent, who stood tall despite the weight of their gazes.

Magnus and Malenia immediately began to protest, but Millicent held up a hand, her eyes blazing with resolve.

"Please, let me speak," she said, her voice stronger than they'd ever heard it. "I know I'm young, and I know you want to protect me. But I'm not a child anymore. I'm a warrior, trained by both of you."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "More than that, I have a connection to this mission that none of you do. I knew the Tarnished, just like Melina did. I traveled with him, fought alongside him. I saw firsthand the person he was before... before he became the Lord of Frenzied Flame."

Millicent's voice wavered slightly, but she pressed on. "I need to do this. Not just for our realm, but for myself. The Tarnished... he saved my life, gave me purpose. And then he betrayed everything we fought for. I need to be part of setting things right."

She looked directly at Magnus and Malenia, her eyes pleading but determined. "You've taught me to be strong, to face my fears, to fight for what's right. Let me put those lessons to use. Let me go with Melina."

The tent fell silent as her words sank in. Magnus and Malenia exchanged a look, a mix of pride and concern in their eyes.

Finally, Magnus spoke, his voice soft but filled with emotion. "Millicent, my brave daughter. You're right. We can't keep treating you as a child. You've earned the right to make this choice."

Malenia nodded, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "If this is truly what you feel you must do, then we won't stand in your way."

Millicent's shoulders sagged with relief, but her voice remained steady. "Thank you. I won't let you down."

Melina stepped forward, placing a hand on Millicent's shoulder. "We'll look out for each other. Two daughters of the Erdtree, on a quest to save our realm."

As the preparations for the journey began in earnest, the atmosphere in the tent was charged with a mix of hope and apprehension. The quest for the Fingerslayer Blade was about to begin, and with it, a new chapter in their fight against the encroaching chaos of the Frenzied Flame.

Miquella's brow furrowed as he spoke, "Magnus, when Mother was speaking through you, she said, 'His soul, his grace... they are the key. The bridge between order and chaos.' What did she mean by that?"

Magnus's face remained composed as he replied, "It's part of the ritual to light the towers. My soul and grace are connected to Mother's. That's all there is to it."

Malenia studied Magnus intently, noting the slight tension in his jaw, the way his eyes didn't quite meet hers. She'd seen this before - Magnus trying to protect them from a hard truth.

Maeve, less patient, stepped forward. "You're holding back, brother. We can tell."

Magnus sighed, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of tension. "I've told you what you need to know for now. The rest... it's complicated."

Malenia's concern deepened. She could feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air, could see the subtle signs of strain in Magnus's posture.

"Magnus," she said softly, "whatever it is, we need to know. We're in this together."

Magnus looked around the room, his gaze landing on his daughters. A flicker of pain crossed his face, so brief anyone else might have missed it. But Malenia saw, and her heart clenched.

"Girls," Magnus said, his voice controlled, "I need you to leave. Please."

The protests were immediate.

"What? No way!" Polyanna exclaimed.

Mary stepped forward, her voice firm. "Father, we're not children anymore. We deserve to know what's going on."

"This isn't up for discussion," Magnus replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Millicent, usually quiet, spoke up. "We've fought alongside you. We've risked our lives. How can you ask us to leave now?"

Malenia, seeing the resolve in Magnus's eyes, made a decision. "Girls," she said, her voice carrying the authority of the Blade of Miquella, "listen to your father. Go wait outside."

"But Mother-" Amy began.

"Now," Malenia said firmly.

The girls exchanged frustrated glances but ultimately complied, filing out of the tent with reluctance.

As the tent flap closed, all eyes turned back to Magnus. The air was thick with tension and unspoken fears.

Maeve broke the silence, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Alright, brother. They're gone. Tell us what's really going on. What does your soul have to do with all this?"

Magnus took a deep breath, his shoulders squaring as if preparing for battle. The others leaned in, waiting for him to speak, the weight of his unspoken words palpable in the tense atmosphere of the tent.

Magnus took a deep breath, his eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "You all remember the theory Miquella and I proposed about lighting the towers, right? How we'd need to release our mother's grace at the heart of the Erdtree?"

Nods of affirmation circled the room. Godwyn spoke up, "Yes, we remember. But what does that have to do with your soul, Magnus?"

Magnus continued, his voice steady but heavy with unspoken weight. "To understand that, I need to remind you of something else first. You all know the story of how I died long ago, before any of you came back. When it was just Maeve, Mother, Father, and me."

Maeve shifted uncomfortably, her voice softer than usual. "We know this story, Magnus. It's... not something I like to revisit. What are you getting at?"

"I know, Maeve. But it's crucial," Magnus said gently. "When the Godskin Monarch defeated me, the Rune of Life kept my soul tethered to my body, but just barely. I was in a state between life and death for years."

He paused, his gaze distant with memory. "It was Mother who brought me back fully. She used the last vestiges of grace she had to restore my body and soul completely."

The tent fell silent as they absorbed this information. Confusion was evident on most faces, but Miquella's expression had transformed into one of pure dread and panic.

Godwyn broke the silence, his voice urgent. "What does this mean, Magnus? How does this connect to lighting the towers?"

Magnus remained quiet, his eyes downcast. The tension in the room grew palpable as the others looked between him and Miquella, sensing that the younger brother had grasped something they hadn't.

Malenia, her voice tight with worry, turned to Miquella. "Miquella, what is it? What have you realized?"

Miquella's eyes were wide with horror, his voice barely above a whisper. "Malenia, don't you see? The grace that restored Magnus, that's keeping him alive... it's the same grace we need to light the towers."

Malenia's face paled as understanding dawned. "No... you can't mean..."

Miquella nodded slowly, his voice breaking. "When we light the towers, and Magnus releases our mother's grace... Magnus will die."

The tent fell into stunned silence, the weight of Miquella's words hanging heavy in the air. All eyes turned to Magnus, searching for denial, for any sign that this terrible revelation wasn't true.

Malenia's voice broke as she stared at Magnus, her eyes filling with tears. "No... no, this can't be true."

Maeve's reaction was explosive, her face contorting with fury and disbelief. "No! How is this possible? It can't be!"

Her voice grew hysterical as she continued, pacing back and forth. "Magnus possesses the Rune of Life. He can't die. He's immortal, for fuck's sake!"

Magnus's voice was gentle but firm as he addressed his twin. "Maeve, you know it's not that simple anymore. When I brought Malenia back to life, it cracked both the Rune of Life in me and the Rune of Death in you. The runes... they're not as strong as they once were."

Godwyn interjected, his voice strained. "But surely there must be a way to restore the runes? To make them whole again?"

Magnus shook his head. "It's not that simple, Godwyn. The cracks... they're fundamental now."

Messmer stepped forward, his usually stoic face etched with concern. "There must be some way to keep Magnus and the grace separate. Miquella, surely with your knowledge, you can find a solution?"

Radahn nodded vigorously. "Yes, there has to be another way. We can't lose Magnus. Not like this."

Miquella shook his head slowly, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I've considered every possibility. Our mother's soul and grace... they're intrinsically attached to Magnus now. There's no way to separate them without..."

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Lansseax, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "What about dragon magic? Could that offer a solution? Placidusax's power?"

Miquella considered for a moment before responding. "I'm not sure. The nature of our mother's grace is... unique. Even dragon magic might not be enough."

Maeve's eyes flashed dangerously. "Then there's another way. We don't light the towers at all."

Magnus sighed deeply. "Maeve, we have to. It's the only way to-"

"No!" Malenia interrupted, her voice sharp with fear and anger. "Maeve's right. We find another way. Any other way."

Magnus tried to reason with them. "Listen, all of you. This isn't just about us. It's about the fate of the entire Lands Between. We need to lessen the influence of the outer gods, or everything we've fought for will be for nothing."

Maeve wasn't having it. She stepped right up to Magnus, her face inches from his. "I don't give a damn about the outer gods or their influence. I care about you, you self-sacrificing idiot!"

Malenia moved to Magnus's side, her voice pleading. "Magnus, please. We've lost so much already. We can't lose you too. There has to be another way."

"There isn't," Magnus insisted, his resolve evident in his voice. "This is what needs to be done."

Radahn's voice boomed across the tent. "Brother, think about what you're saying. There's always another solution. We just need to find it."

Maeve's rage exploded. "Like hell it is! Who decided this? Who gave you the right to throw your life away?"

"It's not throwing my life away," Magnus argued back. "It's using it to save countless others."

Malenia grabbed his hand, her voice breaking. "And what about us? What about your daughters? Have you thought about what this will do to them?"

Magnus's face crumpled slightly at the mention of his children. "Of course I have. It's all I've been thinking about. But sometimes... sometimes we have to make impossible choices."

Godwyn stepped in, his voice firm. "Magnus, we understand the weight of this decision. But we can't rush into this. We need time to explore all options."

Maeve's voice was a low growl. "No. I refuse to accept this. I'll tear down every tower myself if I have to."

"Maeve," Miquella tried to intervene, but she rounded on him.

"And you!" she shouted. "How could you even consider this? How could you stand by and let him do this?"

Miquella's voice was soft, filled with pain. "Do you think this is easy for me? He's my brother too. But the stakes-"

"Fuck the stakes!" Maeve roared.

Messmer, trying to bring logic to the emotionally charged situation, spoke up. "Perhaps we're approaching this wrong. Is there a way to only partially release the grace? To do this gradually over time?"

Magnus shook his head. "The release needs to be complete for the towers to fully activate. There's no halfway measure here."

Malenia, tears streaming down her face, turned to the others. "Please, someone say something. We can't let this happen."

The argument continued to spiral, with Radahn suggesting alternative plans involving his mastery over gravity, Lansseax offering to search for ancient dragon lore that might help, and Godwyn attempting to mediate between the fractious siblings.

Through it all, Magnus stood firm in his belief that this sacrifice was necessary, while Malenia and Maeve refused to accept the loss of their beloved brother and husband. The air in the tent crackled with tension, love, and desperation as the family grappled with an impossible choice.

The argument showed no signs of abating, tensions rising with each passing moment. Godwyn moved to Malenia's side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as she trembled with a mixture of anger and despair.

Maeve, her face flushed with fury, continued to rail against Magnus. "You can't do this! You have no right to make this decision for all of us!"

Magnus, his voice strained but resolute, countered, "Maeve, please try to understand. This isn't just about us. It's about the fate of every living being in the Lands Between."

"To hell with everyone else!" Maeve shouted. "What about your family? What about us?"

She ran up to him, got in his face. "What about me! I love you!" She froze at the word yet Magnus didn't seem to notice, no one did. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know you do, you're my twin…" he was going to continue yet Maeve growled in frustration. As if there was something more to what she meant.

Radahn, sensing the need to defuse the situation, stepped forward. "Maeve, perhaps if we all calm down, we can-"

Maeve whirled on him, her eyes blazing. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down, Radahn!"

Radahn fell silent, taken aback by the intensity of her glare.

Suddenly, Maeve's gaze fell on Melina, who had been standing quietly to the side. In an instant, her fury found a new target.

"You!" Maeve snarled, advancing on Melina. "This is your fault! If you had stopped your precious Tarnished from becoming the Lord of Frenzied Flame, none of this would be happening!"

Melina didn't argue, her eyes downcast with the weight of her own guilt and regret.

Magnus quickly moved to intervene. "Maeve, that's not fair. Melina did everything she could."

Godwyn nodded in agreement. "We can't blame Melina for the choices of another. She's here now, trying to help us fix this."

Maeve's attention snapped to Godwyn. "You," she said, her voice low and intense. "You're the eldest. Knock some sense into Magnus. Tell him he can't do this!"

Godwyn turned to Magnus, conflict clear on his face. He wanted to side with Maeve, to protect his younger brother, but as he met Magnus's gaze, he saw the pain and determination there. In that moment, Godwyn realized the terrible truth - this was the only way, and Magnus was resolved to see it through, regardless of the cost.

With a heavy heart, Godwyn turned back to Maeve. "Maeve... it's Magnus's choice."

Before he could elaborate, Malenia let out a heart-wrenching wail, burying her face in her hands. The sound seemed to echo through the tent, a physical manifestation of the pain they were all feeling.

Maeve's reaction was immediate and volatile. She growled, a sound more animal than human, and spat out a string of curses that would have made even the most hardened warrior blush. "Damn you both!" she snarled at Godwyn and Magnus.

Then, as quickly as her anger had flared, it seemed to crumble. Tears began to flow rapidly down her cheeks as she turned back to Magnus. Her voice, usually so strong and defiant, broke as she pleaded, "Please, Magnus. Don't do this. Not again. I... I can't watch you die again. I won't survive it this time."

Magnus stepped toward her, his arms outstretched to comfort his twin. "Maeve, I-"

But as soon as he began to speak, Maeve recoiled, stepping back. In one fluid motion, she drew her blade, the air around it igniting with the red and black flames of Destined Death.

"No," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "I won't allow this to happen. I won't let you sacrifice yourself, Magnus. Not while I still draw breath."

The others in the tent froze, shock evident on their faces as they watched Maeve brandish her weapon against her own twin. The air crackled with tension, the threat of violence hanging heavy in the air.

Magnus, his face a mask of sorrow, held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Maeve, please. Put the sword down. We can talk about this."

But Maeve's grip on her blade only tightened, her eyes wild with a mixture of desperation and determination. "There's nothing to talk about. You're not dying, Magnus. Not today, not ever. I'll fight the whole damn world if I have to, but I won't lose you again."

The tension in the tent reached its breaking point as Maeve, her blade still wreathed in the flames of Destined Death, turned to leave. Her intention was clear – to fly to the tower and destroy their work, preventing Magnus's sacrifice at any cost.

Magnus, summoning strength he didn't know he had left, launched himself at his twin. "Maeve, no!" he shouted as they collided, tumbling out of the tent and into the open camp.

The girls, who had been anxiously waiting outside, gasped in shock as their father and aunt crashed to the ground before them. Nearby soldiers turned at the commotion, hands instinctively moving to their weapons.

Maeve and Magnus grappled on the ground, years of sibling rivalry and combat training coming to the fore as they exchanged blows. Maeve's fury gave her an edge, and she soon gained the upper hand, pinning Magnus beneath her.

"Stop this madness, Maeve!" Magnus pleaded, struggling against her grip.

"Madness?" Maeve snarled. "The only madness here is your willingness to throw your life away!"

With a final shove, Maeve pushed herself off Magnus and spread her wings, preparing to take flight. But Magnus, desperate to stop her, called out to his most trusted allies.

"Gwen! Eleanora! Stop her!" he ordered, his voice cracking with the effort.

The two archangels hesitated for a split second, torn between their loyalty to Magnus and their respect for Maeve. But duty won out, and they sprang into action, launching themselves at Maeve just as she began to lift off.

Their combined strength was barely enough to drag Maeve back to earth. She thrashed in their grip, her wings beating furiously. "Let go of me!" she roared.

With a burst of strength born of desperation, Maeve managed to throw off Gwen and Eleanora, sending them sprawling. But before she could take off again, Seroch stepped forward, his sword drawn and pointed at Maeve.

"My lord," he called to Magnus, his voice steady despite the tension. "What would you have me do?"

Maeve's eyes flashed dangerously. In a move that left everyone stunned, she reached out and grabbed Seroch's sword by the blade, her own blood mingling with the flames of Destined Death as she wrenched it from his grip and tossed it aside.

Gwen and Eleanora, recovering quickly, tackled Maeve once more. This time, their grip was iron-tight, determined not to let her escape again.

Maeve, realizing she was outnumbered, changed tactics. "Get off me!" she shouted, her voice carrying across the camp. "Don't you understand? I'm trying to save Magnus! He's planning to sacrifice himself!"

Her words had an immediate effect. The struggle ceased as everyone froze, turning to look at Magnus with a mixture of shock, confusion, and dawning horror.

The girls, who had been watching the scene unfold with growing distress, now stared at their father, silently pleading for him to deny Maeve's words.

In the sudden, heavy silence, Gwen stepped forward. Her voice, usually so steady, trembled slightly as she asked, "My lord... is it true? Are you planning to sacrifice yourself?"

Magnus, battered and breathless from the fight, looked around at the faces of his family, his soldiers, his people. The weight of their gazes, filled with fear and disbelief, seemed to press down on him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. How could he explain the impossible choice he faced? How could he make them understand that his life was a small price to pay for the safety of the entire realm?

Magnus looked at his daughters, his heart breaking at the confusion and fear in their eyes. He struggled to find the right words, knowing that no explanation could truly soften the blow of what he had to say.

Malenia emerged from the tent, followed by the other demigods. Her face was streaked with tears, her usual composure shattered. As the girls saw their mother's devastated expression, the terrible truth began to sink in.

Polyanna was the first to break the silence, her voice small and trembling. "Father... it's not true, is it? You're not really going to..."

Magnus took a deep breath, his voice heavy with emotion as he began to explain. "My dear girls, all of you... I wish there was an easier way to tell you this. The truth is, to save our world, to protect everything and everyone we love, I... I have to make a sacrifice."

"But why you?" Amy cried out, tears streaming down her face. "Why does it have to be you?"

Magnus's voice cracked as he continued, "Because of the grace within me. The grace that your grandmother, Marika, used to bring me back to life long ago. It's the key to lighting the towers, to pushing back the influence of the outer gods."

He looked around at the gathered crowd – his family, his loyal archangels, the soldiers who had pledged their lives to their cause. "I know this is hard to understand. Believe me, I wish there was another way. But sometimes... sometimes we have to make impossible choices for the greater good."

Gwen stepped forward, her usually stoic demeanor crumbling. "My lord, please. There must be another way. We can't lose you."

Magnus shook his head sadly. "I've explored every option, Gwen. This is the only way to ensure the safety of the Lands Between, to protect everyone from the chaos that threatens to consume us all."

Eleanora, her voice tight with emotion, asked, "But what about us? What about your family? Your daughters?"

"You are why I'm doing this," Magnus replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "To give you a future, a world free from the machinations of outer gods. I know it's not fair, I know it hurts, but I have to do this. For all of you."

Mary, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up. Her voice was steel, reminiscent of her mother's in times of battle. "No. I won't accept this. Aunt Maeve is right – we need to stop this, no matter what."

She moved to stand beside Maeve, her posture defiant. "I'm sorry, Father, but I can't let you do this. We'll find another way, even if we have to tear down every tower ourselves."

Gwen, torn between her duty and her heart, finally made her decision. She stepped forward, joining Mary and Maeve. "My lord, forgive me. But my duty is to protect you, even if it means protecting you from yourself. I cannot allow this sacrifice."

Magnus looked at them, a mixture of pride and sorrow in his eyes. "I understand your feelings, truly I do. But this isn't a choice I've made lightly. The fate of our entire world hangs in the balance."

Maeve, still restrained but with renewed fire in her eyes, spoke up. "To hell with the world! We've sacrificed enough. We've bled enough. I won't let you die, Magnus. Not again. Never again."

The camp was in turmoil now, soldiers murmuring amongst themselves, the air thick with tension and conflicting loyalties. Magnus stood at the center of it all, the weight of his decision visible in the slump of his shoulders.

"Please," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Try to understand. This isn't just about us. It's about every living being in the Lands Between. It's about giving our world a chance at true peace, free from the influence of capricious gods."

But as he looked at the determined faces of Maeve, Mary, and Gwen, as he saw the tears in his other daughters' eyes and the devastation on Malenia's face, Magnus realized that this battle was far from over.

Magnus, his voice strained but determined, continued to argue his point. "Don't you see? This isn't just about me. It's about making sure none of you ever have to suffer like this again."

He turned to his daughters and Malenia, his eyes filled with pain. "Malenia, my love, remember how you were born cursed by the Goddess of Rot? How it ate away at you for so long until we finally found a way to remove it? I'm doing this to ensure no other child is ever born with such a burden."

His gaze shifted to Eleanora. "And you, Eleanora. Your recent struggle against the Formless Mother's influence... That's exactly what I'm trying to prevent. No one should have to fight so hard just to maintain their own will."

Finally, he looked at Maeve, his expression softening slightly. "Maeve, think about the prophecy. The one that says you're destined to become the Lord of Frenzied Flame."

Maeve's eyes flashed defiantly. "That prophecy only comes true if you die, Magnus! Why would you willingly fulfill it?"

Magnus shook his head. "No, Maeve. You're misremembering. The prophecy specifically states that you become the Lord of Frenzied Flame if I die at the hands of the current Lord. If we defeat him, and then I light the towers... we avoid that fate entirely."

The argument seemed poised to continue, tensions rising once again, when suddenly a quiet voice cut through the chaos.

"I... I may have an alternative."

All eyes turned to Melina, who had been silent until now. She stepped forward, her heterochromatic eyes filled with a mixture of determination and uncertainty.

"What do you mean, an alternative?" Magnus asked, hope and skepticism warring in his voice.

Melina took a deep breath. "There might be a way to light the towers without sacrificing Magnus. But... it comes with its own risks."

The tension in the air shifted, a mix of hope and apprehension spreading through the gathered crowd. Maeve, still defiant but now curious, spoke up. "What kind of risks? Speak plainly, Melina."

Melina looked around at the faces of her family, knowing that her next words could change everything. "It involves the Fingerslayer Blade and... and a piece of my own soul. But before I explain further, you need to understand the full implications of what I'm proposing."

Melina took a deep breath, her heterochromatic eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "You all remember how our grandmother, Morana, revived me as a spirit, correct?"

The group nodded, their faces a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"There's more to it than what you know," Melina continued, her voice soft but steady. "Like she did with Magnus, Morana used the last vestiges of grace she possessed to bring me back. But the process was... incomplete."

Messmer, his brow furrowed with concern, stepped forward. "Melina, what are you saying? What do you mean by incomplete?"

Melina's gaze met Messmer's, seeing the guilt and protective instinct in his eyes. She knew of their past, of the wrongs he felt he had done her, and his desire to make amends.

"I exist in a state between life and death," Melina explained. "Similar to what Magnus experienced in the years between his death and when Marika revived him. I'm not fully alive, but not entirely dead either."

The group exchanged worried glances as Melina continued.

"There might be a way for me to take Magnus's place in lighting the towers," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it would require... a great sacrifice."

Magnus shook his head vehemently. "No, Melina. We're not trading your life for mine. That's not an option."

Melina held up a hand, silencing his protest. "Please, let me finish. There's more you need to understand."

She took another deep breath before continuing. "If I were to take Magnus's place, we would need to shatter the Rune of Life and the Rune of Death entirely."

Gasps of shock rippled through the group. Maeve, her earlier anger momentarily forgotten, stepped forward. "Shatter the runes? But those are parts of Magnus's and my souls. What would that do to us?"

"And what would it mean for you, Melina?" Messmer asked, his voice tight with worry.

Melina's gaze dropped to the ground. "The runes are part of what's keeping me in this spiritual form. If we shatter them... I would cease to exist entirely. But it would provide the energy needed to light the towers and potentially save Magnus."

The silence that followed was deafening. Everyone struggled to process the implications of Melina's words.

Miquella, his brilliant mind racing, was the first to speak. "So you're proposing to sacrifice yourself completely, while also fundamentally altering the nature of life and death in our realm?"

Melina nodded slowly. "Yes. It's a high price, I know. But it might be our only alternative to losing Magnus."

Magnus shook his head, his voice filled with anguish. "Melina, no. We can't ask you to do this. It's too much."

Malenia, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. "But what would shattering the runes mean for Magnus and Maeve? For all of us?"

"That's the part I'm less certain about," Melina admitted. "The Rune of Life and the Rune of Death are fundamental forces, tied to Magnus and Maeve's very souls. Shattering them could have far-reaching consequences we can't fully predict."

The group fell into contemplative silence, each weighing the implications of Melina's proposal. The possibility of saving Magnus was tantalizing, but the potential risks and unknowns were daunting.

As the group debated the merits and risks of Melina's proposal, Magnus suddenly went silent, his eyes distant as if listening to something only he could hear. The others noticed his change in demeanor, their conversation trailing off as they watched him intently.

After a moment, Magnus's eyes refocused, a spark of excitement lighting them up. "I have an idea," he said, his voice filled with a newfound energy. "We could make our own Elden Ring."

The statement was met with stunned silence, followed by a chorus of confused exclamations.

"Our own Elden Ring?" Godwyn repeated, disbelief evident in his voice. "How would we even begin to achieve such a thing?"

Maeve, her earlier anger giving way to curiosity, asked, "Is that even possible?"

In response, Magnus held out his hand, and to everyone's astonishment, their mother's hammer materialized in his grip. "With this," he said, holding up the hammer. "We defeat the Lord of Frenzied Flame, and then at the base of the Erdtree, we forge our own ring."

Miquella's eyes widened with understanding. "Just like what Mother said when she spoke through you - shatter the old order to forge the new one."

Magnus nodded eagerly. "Exactly. We could create our own Elden Ring, one free from the influence of the Outer Gods or the Greater Will. But we'd still need to light the Divine Towers to keep their influence at bay."

Miquella, always quick to analyze, spoke up. "It could work in theory, but we'd still need a god to hold the Elden Ring. Even a demigod couldn't bear that burden."

Magnus's gaze settled on Melina, a look of revelation on his face. "Melina," he said softly. "It could be you. You could be the new god."

The group fell silent once more, all eyes turning to Melina, who stood shocked by the suggestion.

"Me?" Melina asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "But... I'm a spirit. How could I possibly..."

Miquella, his brilliant mind already working through the possibilities, interjected. "Actually, your spiritual nature might be perfect for this. You'd be more of a spiritual god, similar in some ways to the Outer Gods. You wouldn't physically manifest except perhaps in dreams or visions, but your influence and will could be felt throughout the world."

Messmer, who had been quiet until now, stepped forward, concern etched on his face. "But what about the Divine Towers? If they're lit to keep the Outer Gods' influence at bay, wouldn't they also affect Melina's influence if she were to become a god?"

Miquella nodded thoughtfully. "That's a valid concern, Messmer. The towers would likely limit Melina's power to some extent, but that might actually be a good thing. It would ensure a balance, preventing any single entity from having unchecked influence over our world."

Melina, still processing the enormity of what was being suggested, spoke up. "I... I'm not sure I'm worthy of such a responsibility. To be a god, to shape the very fabric of our world..."

Magnus stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If not you, then who? You've seen both the best and worst of our world. You understand the weight of choice and consequence better than anyone."

Messmer stepped forward, his usually stoic face etched with concern. He looked directly at Melina, his voice gentle but firm. "Melina, is this truly what you want? To take on such an immense responsibility... to potentially sacrifice your very existence?"

Melina met his gaze, her heterochromatic eyes filled with a mixture of determination and uncertainty. "I never pictured myself as a god, Messmer. It's... it's overwhelming to even consider." She paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "But Magnus makes an excellent point. And whether we agree or disagree, I bear some responsibility for the state of our world."

Her voice grew softer, tinged with regret. "I failed to stop the Tarnished. I should be the one to sacrifice myself, not Magnus. Not anyone else."

The group listened in respectful silence as Melina made her decision. "I will do it," she said, her voice gaining strength with each word. "I'll become the new god and bear the weight of the Elden Ring."

As her words sank in, a palpable sense of relief spread through the gathering. Some of the more volatile tempers began to cool, the immediate threat of losing Magnus no longer hanging over them.

Maeve, who had been ready to fight moments ago, visibly relaxed, though a wary look remained in her eyes. Malenia let out a shaky breath, reaching for Magnus's hand and squeezing it tightly.

Melina, sensing the shift in mood, spoke up once more. "However, we mustn't lose sight of our immediate goals. We still need to proceed with retrieving the Fingerslayer Blade. It will be crucial in our fight against the Lord of Frenzied Flame and in forging the new Elden Ring."

Godwyn nodded in agreement. "Melina's right. We have a plan now, but we still face great challenges ahead. The Fingerslayer Blade must be our priority."
Magnus looked at Melina, a mixture of gratitude and concern in his eyes. "Thank you, Melina. But know that this decision isn't final. We'll find a way to do this that doesn't require such a heavy sacrifice from you."

Melina offered a small smile in return. "Let's focus on the task at hand, Magnus. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Melina turned to Millicent, her voice gentle but resolute. "When would you like to depart for the blade, Millicent?"

Millicent's gaze shifted to her father, her eyes cold and her voice carrying an edge of anger. "Now. I'd like to go now. I... I don't want to be here right now."

Magnus noticed the fury in his daughter's eyes and tone, but held his tongue, understanding the pain behind her words.

Without another word, Millicent stepped forward. In a shimmer of light, Melina vanished, merging with Millicent. Millicent's wings unfurled, shimmering with an otherworldly light.

Magnus opened his mouth, words of caution on his lips, but before he could speak, Millicent had already taken to the sky. He watched her retreating form, his heart heavy with the weight of her unspoken anger.

Turning to Malenia, Magnus found her looking away, her face a mask of hurt and anger. Yet, despite her conflicted emotions, she still held his hand tightly, as if afraid to let go.

When his gaze met Maeve's, he saw no attempt to hide her fury. Her red eyes blazed with a mixture of rage and pain, a silent accusation in their depths.

Sensing the growing tension, Godwyn stepped forward, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. "We should focus on preparing for the battle ahead. There's much to be done, and every hand will be needed."

His words seemed to break the spell of stillness that had fallen over the group. Slowly, people began to move, turning their attention to the tasks at hand.

As the others dispersed, Magnus stood rooted to the spot, the weight of his family's pain pressing down on him. He watched as Maeve stormed off, as his other daughters cast conflicted glances his way before following Godwyn's lead.

Malenia remained by his side, her hand still in his, but the distance between them felt vast. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "We should help with the preparations."

Magnus nodded, unable to find the words to bridge the chasm that had opened between them.

The quest for the Fingerslayer Blade had begun, but in its wake, it had left a family fractured by the weight of impossible choices and looming sacrifices.

—

The journey to the Moonlight Plateau was swift, Millicent's determination driving her forward with unnatural speed. As she landed near the cathedral, the ethereal form of Melina materialized beside her.

"This way," Melina said softly, guiding Millicent through the ancient, crumbling structure. Their footsteps echoed in the vast, empty space, a reminder of the weight of history surrounding them.

As they navigated the winding corridors, Millicent's voice broke the silence, laden with a question she had long held back. "Melina... were you still with the Tarnished when he betrayed me?"

Melina's steps faltered for a moment, her form flickering slightly as if disturbed by the memory. After a pause that seemed to stretch for eternity, she replied, "No. I... I had left him right after he claimed the Frenzied Flame. I couldn't bear to see what he was becoming."

They continued in silence for a few more steps before Melina spoke again, her voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and fondness. "You should know, Millicent... he did care for you. Before his fall, he often spoke of wanting to help you on your journey. He believed you would become a great warrior someday."

Millicent's face softened for a brief moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by the familiar ache of betrayal and loss.

They came to a stop before a gaping hole in the cathedral floor. Melina gestured towards the darkness below. "The blade should be down there. We'll need to descend carefully."

Millicent nodded, her jaw set with determination. As they prepared to climb down into the unknown depths, the air around them seemed to thicken with anticipation. The Fingerslayer Blade awaited, a relic of immense power that could change the course of their world.

As Millicent took her first step into the darkness, she couldn't help but feel that she was descending not just into the physical depths of the cathedral, but into the depths of her own past. The memory of the Tarnished, once a source of strength and hope, now served as a painful reminder of the betrayal that had shaped her.

With Melina's spectral form lighting the way, Millicent began her descent, each step bringing her closer to the blade that could reshape their future, and perhaps, help her come to terms with her they reached the end of the cave, Millicent and Melina found themselves in a chamber that bore the scars of an ancient battle. At the center lay the massive, decaying remains of what appeared to be a giant hand.

Millicent's eyes widened in shock. "What... what is this?"

Melina's voice was solemn as she explained, "These are the remains of Two Fingers. Long ago, the Tarnished retrieved the Fingerslayer Blade for Ranni, so she could slay her own Two Fingers." She gestured towards the colossal, lifeless form before them.

Millicent absorbed this information, her mind racing. "But Melina, how did you know the Fingerslayer Blade would be here?"

Melina turned, her gaze fixed on a spot near the fallen Two Fingers. As she approached, her ethereal form flickered with recognition. Bending down, she picked up what appeared to be shards of metal, their edges still sharp despite the passage of time.

"These are the remnants of the Fingerslayer Blade," Melina said, her voice tinged with both triumph and sadness. "After giving the blade to Ranni, the Tarnished journeyed here. He found Ranni in this very chamber, standing before the dead Two Fingers."

Melina paused, her voice growing softer. "It was here that he proposed to become her consort."

Millicent felt as if the ground had dropped out from beneath her feet. "What?" she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "The Tarnished I knew... he promised himself to Ranni?"

The revelation hit Millicent like a physical blow. The Tarnished she had known, the one who had helped her, fought alongside her, and ultimately betrayed her - he had been destined for a path she could never have imagined.

"I... I had no idea," Millicent murmured, her mind reeling with this new information.

Melina nodded solemnly. "Few did. It was a private moment between them, but one that would have had far-reaching consequences for the entire Lands Between... had things not gone so terribly wrong."

As Millicent stared at the shattered remains of the Fingerslayer Blade in Melina's hands, she felt a complex mix of emotions washing over her. Anger at the Tarnished's betrayal, sadness for what could have been, and a strange sense of closure - knowing that the man she had known had been capable of such devotion, even if it wasn't directed at her.

"What do we do now?" Millicent asked, her voice steadier than she felt. "The blade is broken."

Melina carefully gathered the shards. "We take these back. Between Miquella's knowledge, Marika's Hammer, Hewg's skill at the forge and the power we possess, we might be able to reforge it. It's our best hope."

As they prepared to leave the chamber, Millicent cast one last look at the fallen Two Fingers and the spot where the Tarnished had once stood, ready to pledge himself to a god. She couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if he had followed through on that promise instead of succumbing to the Frenzied Flame.

With a heavy heart but a renewed sense of purpose, Millicent and Melina began their journey back, carrying with them the broken pieces of a blade that could reshape their world - and perhaps, in some small way, help mend the broken pieces of Millicent's past.

Millicent's brow furrowed as a memory surfaced. "There was a war, wasn't there? Against the Frenzied Flame and Liurnia, led by Ranni."

Melina nodded solemnly, her ethereal form seeming to flicker with the weight of painful memories. "Yes. After the Tarnished became the Lord of Frenzied Flame, he... changed. He no longer cared for anything, not even his promise to be Ranni's consort."

Her voice grew quieter, tinged with a mix of sorrow and anger. "I learned much of what happened during my imprisonment by the Flame. My torturer, the Frenzied Maiden Hyetta, took great pleasure in taunting me with the details."

Millicent listened intently, her heart heavy with each revelation.

Melina continued, her words painting a grim picture. "Hyetta told me how the Lord had defeated Ranni and her forces. How he had cracked the very moon itself in the battle."

She paused, her form shimmering with barely contained emotion. "Ranni... she tried to bring back her consort, to remind him of who he once was. But she suffered greatly for it. The encounter drove her mad."

Millicent's eyes widened with sudden understanding. "That's why Ranni was in such a state when we found her a year ago. The Ranni we encountered..."

"Was a shadow of her former self," Melina finished. "Broken by betrayal and the horrors she had witnessed."

The weight of this revelation settled heavily on Millicent's shoulders. The Tarnished she had known, the one who had helped her on her journey, had become a force of such devastating chaos. He had not only betrayed her but had shattered the very foundations of the world they had fought to protect.

"I can't believe it," Millicent whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "How could he have fallen so far?"

Melina's voice was gentle but firm. "The Frenzied Flame consumes all, Millicent. It leaves nothing of the person behind. The Tarnished you knew... in many ways, he died the moment he embraced the Flame."

As they stood there, surrounded by the remnants of ancient battles and broken promises, Millicent felt a shift within herself. The anger and hurt she had carried for so long began to transform into something else - a determination to set things right, to finish what the Tarnished had failed to do.

"We have to stop him," Millicent said, her voice gaining strength. "Not just for us, but for Ranni, for everyone who suffered because of his choice."

Melina nodded, a spark of hope lighting her ethereal eyes. "That's why we're here. With the Fingerslayer Blade, we have a chance to end this cycle of chaos and betrayal."

With renewed purpose, Millicent and Melina began their journey back, the weight of their newfound knowledge driving them forward. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but for the first time in a long while, Millicent felt a glimmer of hope. They had the means to make a difference, to right the wrongs of the past and forge a new future for the Lands Between.