"May I render aid, stranger?"
The young woman, hooded in red and cowering at the rear of a decaying shack, startled at his voice. "They've all gone now, fought for me, died for me; gone to be turned to chrysalids." She murmured, eyes unseeing.
Owain sighed, he knew the face of trauma. This young tarnished must have been only recently called from cross the fog, and lost her whole party beside. "Have you others in need of aid? I would offer what help I can." He spoke gently as he edged his way across the rotted floor of the small building. The sentinel had sensed the magic of her weak ward as he'd passed and upon seeing the girl, decided to help. She was the first of any real coherence he'd seen in days.
"Oh, but I'm a craven ser. I don't want to be grafted, to be joined to the spider." As his golden gauntlet gently split the magic of her ward to land lightly on her shoulder, her eyes snapped to his helm, as if noticing him for the first time.
"You need not do anything you do not wish to, young lady." He cringed at the roughness of his voice.
A small hand rest upon his own. "I wish I had your courage. You're on to castle Stormveil aren't you? All by yourself?" He nodded.
The woman reached into a bag at her side, offering him a small ash pouch. "Please sir, take this little one with you. She deserves someone braver than I, and the spirits take kindly to you." Owain still had the sense that she had yet to truly see him. "And please, if you see the little chrysalids, tell them I love them; and that despite my craven heart I'll be joining them soon enough."
Owain gave her frail shoulder a soft squeeze. "I will take these ashes. You must make yourself safe. Be not afeard, I will rid these lands of Godrick and his ilk soon." He stood, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Such filth that turned men to monsters.
The balista bolt caught him by surprise. In his dealings with Godricks addled soldiers, he noticed a trend of increased cognizance the closer he came to the castle gates. These troops seemed almost trained, though their pitious defensive postings made him slightly ill. He'd been so distracted by his disgust that he'd almost been too late to catch the surprise bolt on his shield.
The sentinel still made short work of the enemy, but it was becoming more tedious. He pushed on, Owain was almost at the true gate of the castle. It was in the long, curving tunnel that led to the heart of Stormveil that he spotted a man looking curiously out into the open space beyond. A tarnished? He was certainly not of Godricks lot.
"Ho there stranger!" Owain called out, attempting for once to be friendlier than he appeared, he was sick of all his dealings ending in oustings.
The man, thin and garbed in the cloth of a sorcerer, jumped in surprise before turning back to him. "Hail there, Tarnished as well are you?"
Owain nodded as he came to stop a few paces from the fidgety man. "Aye, it would seem so. I am Owain, here to slay the wretch Godrick. Seek you his rune?"
The man laughed, high and nasal. "Goodness no, I seek access to the depths of the castle. I am on an academic outing of sorts. Rogier's the name, a sorcerer by study." He stuck out a hand.
It was with a small smile that Owain shook it, how pleasant it was to be greeted as a man and not an enemy. "Then I've a request if you would hear it."
"Wish to join forces do you? I suppose it would be prudent." Rogier kicked at a small pebble distractedly.
"Nay, I will rout the castle alone. There is a young lady hid away in a shack some miles down the road, I would have you bring her to some semblance of safety if possible. Once the grafted mongrel is slain, I'd happily give you free rein of the castle for your research."
Rogier looked at him in surprise and suspicion. Owain did not take offense, he knew that many of his order had been sent cross the Lands Between to hunt and slay tarnished. It was no wonder that the man did not take him at his word so easily. The sorcerer looked him up and down once more, taking his measure. "That would be amenable, Ser Sentinel. If you but swear it upon the Erd Tree that you've only spoken truth, then I'll be on my way. Far be it from me to turn down a path clearer."
Owain flipped up his visor. "I swear it upon the great Erd Tree that I have spoken no falsehood to you. All I have said, I mean."
The sorcerer grinned. "Then I'll be on my way with thanks beside, Ser! I shall see you anon, once I have spirited the girl away to safety."
Owain raised a hand in farewell. Good, he had been worried for the young woman as he'd left the shack. He turned once more to the open portcullis with a squint. If he were the defending force, this would be where he'd place his first true place of ambush. It was likely Rogier supposed the same and had been attempting to find a path around the bridge. The man shrugged down his shield and hefted his great spear. All he could do was be wary.
As soon as he passed under the rusted gate, it slammed down behind him. He chuckled, so he had been correct. A large figure convalesced out of sparkling gold on one of the turrets before him. When he spoke, Owain could hear the man's voice with perfect clarity, despite the vast distance. "Foul Tarnished, cursed thief. Woe to thee that would steal that armor!" The figure, clothed in nothing but a rags, leapt the distance from the high turret to land in a shallow crater on the bridge before him. This was the second time he had been accused of stealing his own armor, Owain squinted; why did he feel as if he knew this man.
The stranger straightened, dwarfing even Owain's towering height. Owain lifted his visor, perhaps the man would listen to reason. "I am no thief! This armor is mine by right. Who are you that would accuse me so?" He stepped forward, spear pointed up in a non threatening manner.
The large man's face slacked in shock. Owain could see now that he was one of those blessed by the crucible, many winding horns grew from the right side of his head, and thick fur covered much of his body. A small flame of recognition warmed Owain's mind. He…he knew this man. "O-Owain?"
The man's voice had lost all of its bite. It was certain now, the man recognized him. Owain cocked his head. "Forgive me stranger but my mind is yet unreturned of all its memories. Have we…met?" Owain stumbled forward, hands splayed on the stone and dirt of the ancient bridge. A memory stole his senses.
The upper sewers were as dark and dank as ever, Owain wrinkled his nose. While the rooms of the twin princes and their adjoining quarters were clean and enchanted of scent and light, the rest of the old sewers were not given such treatment. He raised his lantern, ready to be at the young lords' quarters already.
Owain did not know why the queen would not see the twins. Nor why she seemed almost to…fear the children. Not that such a thing could be true, of course not. The sight of her wide eyes and trembling hands would not leave his mind's eye, but even still, he must have been imagining such things.
Ever since the princes' crucible blessings had begun to manifest at the end of their toddlerhood, the eternal one would not see them. She'd even bade him relocate them to newly renovated quarters within the upper sewers out of fear they would be targeted for their blood.
Owain knew that the prejudice against horned children was a swiftly rising beast, but he still did not understand. Would the princes not be safer within his easy reach? He had posed the same question to his lord Godfrey, but the elden lord had only looked at him with indecipherable sadness before bidding him put it from his mind.
There was something his queen hid from him but he was so oft preoccupied with his duties, he had not the time to puzzle it clear. The twins had only spent a few months in this dank place and he was quite ready for them to be once more within the palace. Thankfully his queen, though still...cautious, had agreed to allow them to live in their royal quarters anew. Owain only had to finish the last of his numerous preparations before the boys could be brought home. He did not know what foe his lady thought could so easily slink past his men, but he would be prepared for all who would try.
As he opened the large doors to their chambers and greeted his charges, Owain was surprised by both twins rushing to hold him around the middle with sobbing cries.A few minutes of babbling later and he still had yet to understand the source of their anguish. "Hush now, hush now, my lords. Pray, tell me what has upset you so."
It was Lord Mohg who spoke first, red eye's all the redder for his tears. "They found us, Wain! They found us in the lower levels! We were only trying to help the other children!"
The other…what? Children? In the deep sewer? What horror was this? "Who found you, my lord? Why are there children so deep in the sewers?" Why had the princes been there? How had they evaded the eyes of the three companies of sentinels he had patrolling the whole of the upper sewers? How had they Aldo not seen that they were gone? Their nursemaids, their tutors, their servants, how had so many been fooled?
Mogh wailed into his chest, letting Morgott continue, "The-the Omen killers , Wain. The other cursed ones have been secreted to the sewers; to be c-culled like the unholy beasts we are." The muscles of his jaw twitched. Who had told the golden princes such drivel? There would be no such wickedness while he yet watched over the young twins. He gently brushed away their tears with the pads of his thumbs. Wrapping his great cloak around them and curling both boys' heads to his armored chest, he let them spend their sorrows.
He had heard tell of children disappearing that bore the blessing of the crucible of late. So this was where they had been thrown aside. The twins had been the first to bear the mark of ancient tree in Marika's new gold, at least that is what his father had told him. Others of their kind had slowly sprung forth throughout the capitol. Owain knew they faced prejudice but he had thought…he had been a fool to think them safe.
His hands were gentle as they made smooth passes over the twins' soft curls,"You are not unholy, my lord. You are blessed by the crucible. Others should only be so lucky."
"Others do not think as thou dost, Owain!" Mohg's childish voice cracked in stress.
"I curse these horns that mar me." Morgott whispered, light eyes narrowed in self hatred.
He would not let them think so lowly of themselves, his noble lordlings. "Belay that kind of talk, my precious lords. You are both of golden blood, righteous and kind. I will ever safeguard you from all threats, including these 'Omen Killers'. Be not afeard." He pressed tender kisses to their furrowed brows, "I mist know, how did you two escape the watch of my men?"
Morgott's eyes instantly looked away, Owain frowned at the prince until he confessed, "M-my illusion spell." he said smally, face scrunched. Ah, so the little prodigy had cast such an advanced spell already.
Exasperation and pride warred within him before he spoke, "Do not leave these safe quarters again, my princes. You must stay always within my protection, understood?" he chided them gently. They nodded in unison. "I will come in a few days time to ferry you both home, the palace has at last been made safe for you."
"Truly?" Mogh asked, eyes wide. The twins began jumping about with joy at Owain's nod and smile.
Morgott raised a tiny fist to his chest in salute, his brother soon following, "We will not leave! We promise!"
"I will hold you to your oaths, my lords, vows are things never to be broken." he turned his head as he stood, "Tricia," He called out to the adjoining chamber where he knew the perfumer would be waiting.
"Yes, my lord?" She called as she peaked her worried head out from behind a low archway.
"Tend to the princes. I've…work needs doing in the lower sewers."
"As you say, my lord." By the glint in her eyes, she knew his meaning.
"And my young lords, be stout and brave for Tricia, yes?" Their smiles were as sacred treasures. He closed the double doors to their chambers softly, signalling the sentinels beside him to be on highest alert. A heart heavy with rage weighed him down as he strode into the murk. Dark deeds needed doing.
That was the tenth such child he'd found in the dark. They flocked to his spear wreathed in golden light, terrified and lost. He sent them off with a spell to see their way and keep them safe, and instructions to seek shelter with his sentinels. Tricia would know to arrange their safety, the woman was quite sharp.
Owain grew ever more wrathful the further into the depths he went. Each 'omen killer' he found was slain with a few burning jabs of his spear, none had any skill in war. He was disgusted. Their horrid masks would not leave his mind.
The screams of a child echoed down the corridor before him and Owain began to sprint. Light lit an offshoot and he snarled, there lay his pray. He dashed into the narrow hall, splashing through muddied water. In the middle distance he could spy the largest omen killer he'd come across yet. The monster dangled a child over the edge of a large, swirling basin. "Release the child to me in safety!" Owain roared.
The large man's cruel laughter stopped abruptly. He turned towards Owain swiftly, still dangling the sobbing child. A little girl with blonde hair, clothed in a tattered dress. "Don't you move, sentinel. Or this little dolly's gunna go for a swim." The man's voice was raspy, crackling with phlegm.
"Harm the child, and you only seal your fate, recreant." Could he reach the girl in time should the man drop her? How deep was the water?
A wheezing chuckle loosed from the man's flabby chest. "Oh yea?" He stabbed a sharp nail into the girls calf. "Seems I got all the lev-"
To receive a great spear the size and weight of Owain's directly into the shoulder would crumble any mortal man, it was no wonder the omen killer was sent flying. The sentinel burst forth in a show of speed he'd not used in years as the ghastly man was pinned to the wall across the basin. The little girl's shrieks renewed as she fell.
Just as the girl's hands began to break the surface of the murky water, Owain caught her firmly by the middle. Her sobs only intensified as he cradled her to his chest, her budding horns scraping against his breastplate. Owain ignored the pleading of the omen killer, instead casting a spell of grand healing for the child. In quick order he had placed several wards on her, and given her a small vial of sleeping draught he always kept on hand for young lord Mohg. Only when he could tuck her safely against a clean section of wall away from the screaming omen killer did he finally turn towards the man.
"Name yourself." He ordered.
"Thelof, me lord." He blubbered. "Please, spare me! I was only doing a service to her majesty! Keeping them filth off the streets!" His radiant queen would never condone such heinous sin.
Owain smashed a gauntleted fist into the Thelof's mouth, clearing it of most of his teeth and slamming his head into the crumbling wall behind. The wheezing man fell unconscious from the blow. Owain cast a greater healing spell, rousing Thelof once more. "How many do you number?"
"I dunno know, per-perhaps ten score, me lord! Please , Don't kill me." Ten score? So many and he'd not had any idea? Owain cursed, he'd only slain perhaps thirty on his way through the lower sewers.
"Who leads you, on whose authority do you act?"
"Se-ser Rollo! Lord Sentinel please! Don't-" Owain withdrew his spear from the man's shoulder, tearing the flesh anew as it had healed over during his spell. Rollo? That man was one of the most senior perfumers! Fie!
Thelof's sobs of suffering were ever rising, even as he writhed on the dirty floor. "Please don't Kill-" Owain brought his greaved boot down on the man's head several times in supreme revulsion. He needed to get back to the children! He scooped up the little girl tenderly, this entire ordeal was becoming more complicated by the moment.
The light eye of his wary charge looked down on him at his place lain on the ground. Owain carefully wiped away his streaming tears, pulling himself into a kneel. "Forgive me, my lord. I recognize you now."
Owain heard the dull pads of Morgott's steps before a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. "It has been a long while, Ser Owain".
"Far too long! Look at you, Lord Morgott." Owain laughed shakily. "Even clothed in nought but rags, you are kingly." His charge aided him to stand.
Morgott only stared at him for several breaths. Eye sad, lips downturned. "Thou art tarnished. Seekest thee the elden ring?"
Owain was surprised. Did Lord Morgott truly think he would ever desire the throne? The sentinel shook his head. "Nay, my lord. As yet, my goal was to rid your lord brother's castle of the pestilence that is his progeny. The shard, I planned to safeguard until the return of Lord Godfrey." He paused, thinking. "That is, unless you would desire them, my lord. I may not have much of our memories together but I know that I have always thought you worthy of such responsibility."
Morgott's eye widened, and his grip on his odd club tightened. "Thine words honor me, Wain. These many years have I defended the capitol these many trials and hardships." He tail swished angrily. "When I was but a boy, I dreamt that perhaps one day, the people would love me as thou didst. That they would see the man that lay under these accursed horns. That the greater will wouldst not spurn me."
Owain took his lord's hand softly. "Surely, my lord, you have achieved your dreams! If yet the capitol stands after such horrible war. You have proven your wisdom and might. Why should our people not adore you, how could they not see your noble heart?" Owain's voice rose. "How could the greater will spurn you when you are so blessed-"
"I am cursed! Why else wouldst the erd tree-" The man whirled at him, breaking free of his hold. "Always, didst thou fill our heads with thine high ideals, with poison ambitions! Thou made us think we couldst be more than ill omens." Lord Morgott snarled.
"You are, my lord! You are more than the horns on your face, or your fur or your tail! You have ever been true and golden! Sharp of mind and soft of heart!" As he spoke, countless more memories of his time with the royal twins flooded behind his eyes.
Lord Morgott cast his gaze from Owain, tossing aside his club, which dissolved into gold. "Were it so that thou were't there when all this turmoil began. Mayhap with thine counsel, we demigods would not have fallen to our baser instincts." Owain could not stomach how defeated his lord sounded. He opened his mouth to protest but halted at Lord Morgott's raised hand. "Comest thee to Leyndell, gather what runes thou might. I suspect that with thine revival, the greater will begins to panic. What sentinels I hath stationed abreast the Lands Between are once more yours to lead, Lord Commander. I shall order those not in the capitol to converge upon Stormveil."
The reinstatement of his station should have filled him with jubilance, but it left him only with the sudden weight of added duty. "You honor me, my lord. I will fulfill my duties with the same fervor I once did. Though might I ask leave to journey where I might? I would see all these lands mended and I must see to your royal siblings, Lord Morgott."
"Do what you will, Wain. I pray with thine aid, our people might be healed. I pray too for the coming of a true lord." Lord Morgot turned to face him, body beginning to dissolve in holy mist. "I no longer wish to be king." He whispered.