Malenia's breathing hitched. Her heart skipped a beat.
"What?"
"I know, I know. A wild prospect. But what I saw—"
She stood up.
"How?" she demanded. The word cut through Ash's backpedaling like glass. He cleared his throat.
"It is not easy to explain," he began. "Know you of Dragonlord Placidusax?"
"Barely. Mother and Father would seldom share stories of the Elden Lord before them."
"It is a fact that he possessed the power to manipulate time—I have borne witness to this, in the fragments of him and his people scattered across the Lands Between. And I came upon an ancient city, where the Dragonlord's powers appear to be concentrated. Time is muddled there, and seems even to be absent in places."
Malenia shook her head. "What such city could there possibly be?"
"Farum Azula."
Her jaw fell open.
"The city of dragons? Wh… How?"
"Timebending. The city itself exists beyond the confines of time, owing to Placidusax's powers—and should we go there, we too shall exist outside time."
Outside time… Malenia was not stupid. She knew firsthand the shortcomings of Miquella's needle. So when Ash spoke of transcending the boundaries of time, she quickly put two and two together, and came to the conclusion before Ash could declare it.
"And free of time's grasp, we could pass the wait needed to grow this needle all at once," she murmured, confusion and fervor subdued. The realization hit her with such force that she could barely rasp out the words, as if she were being choked.
"Rest assured," Ash replied. Unease wobbled his voice. "'Tis a ludicrous prospect, I'll not deny. But—"
Malenia snatched the bell up from where it lay upon her throne and gave it a ring. The chime was stifled and dry under the agitation with which she waved her hand, but nevertheless, the sound of Finlay materializing before her followed suit.
"Greetings, Milady," came her dutiful voice. Malenia ignored the formality and cut to the chase.
"Leftenant, I must leave my post at Lord Miquella's side," she stated firmly. "I am tasking you with holding my vigil until I return."
Finlay didn't miss a beat. "Of course, Milady. I will watch over our Lord until the bell's resonance abates."
There was a hitch of silence. Then, hesitantly, "But that may come sooner rather than later. And I cannot ring my own bell."
"We must make haste, then," Malenia answered, towards Ash. He didn't reply for a moment, seemingly taken aback by her immediate agreeance. Eventually, however, he chuckled.
"I have a feeling this will take no time at all," he assured her. "But perhaps we should tend to something first. Prithee, your arm."
Malenia shook her head. "We have not the time. The prosthesis is a complex device. To bend and work the gold back into shape—it would take ages without the aid of a master craftsman."
"And I may know such a master," Ash answered. Malenia said and did nothing, prompting him to continue: "Where we are going, you will need your sword by your side. The denizens of Farum Azula are… unwelcoming."
"Farum Azula?" came Finlay's voice. "What is that?"
Malenia turned and held up her hand.
"A question for my return," she said. Turning back towards Ash, she relinquished a silent nod. She didn't want to waste time seeing if this "master" the Tarnished knew of could mend her shattered arm, but if playing along brought her to this supposed cure…
A shiver went up her spine. A dark dread, a pessimism that had festered in her for lifetimes, urged her to sit back down and give up, to stop while she was ahead. In spite of everything Ash had already done for her, the notion that he had miraculously up and discovered a time-defying king that had inadvertently perfected Miquella's craftsmanship after he had tried and failed in all his godly wisdom to do the same—it was preposterous. Downright impossible, in fact. The prospect itself was obscene.
And her alliance with Ash was defined almost wholly by such stunts. So when that nihilism stiffened her legs, she simply subdued an annoyed grunt and forced them forwards.
"Take me to this master," she said, as her left arm reached down to scoop up the scraps of gold that were once her prosthesis. "And then take me to the city of dragons, so I may see this cure for myself."
"Of course, Empyrean." As formal as ever, Ash made haste in setting sail. A few brisk footsteps and the sound of the knight retrieving her katana in lieu of her occupied arm were all that preceded the sensation of cold mail and iron thorns pricking against Malenia's sternum. She tilted her head as Ash laid his barbed glove on her, but did not flinch away as she asked, "What are you doing?"
"Searching for the glimmer of grace within you," he answered, followed shortly by a satisfied hum.
"There it is," he declared.
A strange sensation lit up inside Malenia, like a warmth that teetered on the edge of tangible. Though she was blind, she could almost see the faint sparkle of gold light up from deep within her soul—almost, for such an image was superseded by a bold vision of a circular chamber, lit meekly by a stone fireplace and a proud and twinkling icon of grace that hovered over a roundtable as weathered as the face of a mountain. Dozens of armaments, rusted to nothingness, speared into the center of the table, encircling the great golden light like a wall of pikes staunchly warding away would-be defyers of the Golden Order.
She knew this place well. The Roundtable Hold, of the fortified manor that lay near the base of the Erdtree. Unease pricked at her; if the one to mend her arm lay in the heart of Leyndell, perhaps it would be best for her to simply sit and wait. Particularly if those accursed Two Fingers were huddled away in their little throne room…
Malenia swallowed a lump in her throat. She had to trust Ash would not simply throw her at the feet of the Golden Order, if only for his pledge to Ranni. That trust held her tongue, but it did not stop her from squeezing her eyes shut from behind her mask and grimacing with bared teeth as she felt the cold wet earth vanish from underneath her feet—only to be near-instantly replaced with the touch of warm, weathered stone.
Very warm, as a matter of fact. The whole room was hot. Too hot. Noisy, too. As the world rushed back in to meet Malenia, her ears were quickly filled with the unmistakable sound of burning wood; the low roar of hot air swirling up above the storm was punctuated near-every moment by the crackling and popping of fibers being wicked and disintegrated. It was the only thing she could hear at all—the sound of fire consuming its prey.
A new unease filled her bosom. Had the Roundtable Hold been set alight? Surely Ash had not meant to bring her to such a place.
Evidently, he hadn't: Nearly as soon as Malenia realized that the room was on fire, Ash's troubled voice broke the searing symphony.
"What? What is… Roderika!"
His footsteps hurried towards the edge of the room; Malenia followed suit.
"Roderika, what is happening?" came Ash's urgent voice again. A chuckle was the reply, one so faint and mirthless that Malenia barely caught it over the din of the flames.
"Take a look around." The woman's voice was so terribly tiny against the cacophony that surrounded them. "The Roundtable Hold is burned. Razed to the ground."
"Wh—" Ash stammered. "Is… Is this because of the Erdtree? The Fell Flame, it… has it reached here, as well?"
Malenia caught a twinge of guilt tightening his voice. The girl called Roderika must have heard it as well, for her reply was tender: "Don't worry. I don't blame you… I'll continue spirit tuning just the same as before."
"In here? Roderika, you can't!"
"You're right. I can't. Which is why I need your help persuading Master Hewg to leave."
"Persuading?"
"His roots are so knotted in this place. But… he won't last much longer if he stays here."
A brief silence. Then, "His shackles are broken. He's a free man now. It's high time he put the Roundtable Hold behind him."
"I'll speak to him." Ash's promise was immediate, as was the sound of his footsteps proceeding into another wing of the Hold. Malenia moved to follow, but briefly hesitated before promptly stopping. Whoever Hewg was, this was between him and Ash.
Instead, she turned to gaze in the direction of Roderika, who seemed to only just then notice her.
"Hello there," the girl mumbled, polite words dampened by a weighty exhaustion. "I've not seen you here before. Are you a friend of his?" When Malenia gave a silent nod, she pressed, "What brings you here?"
"Ash wishes to employ the services of a friend to help me… fix what was broken."
"Ash?"
It occurred to her just then that the man in question had only given her that moniker by her request. Nodding again, she clarified, "He offered me the name so that I may distinguish him from other Tarnished."
"I see," Roderika observed. "That bundle of metal you're carrying—is that what needs fixed? You must be here to see Master Hewg, then."
Malenia pursed her lips. It sounded like this Hewg was in no condition to be put to work, given the state of the Hold.
"What happened to this place?" she asked.
"The Erdtree has been set aflame," Roderika explained. "And I can only surmise that with it, this place will follow suit."
Malenia jolted at that.
"The Erdtree is burning?" she echoed. "How?"
"It was Ash who ignited it. He spoke of a so-called Flame of Ruin high above the clouds. He said he did it to burn away the thorns that locked him outside the Erdtree."
Malenia licked her lips. The shock of Roderika's revelation had hit her hard, but… not as hard as she would have expected. She had already known that Ash was on a path to topple the Golden Order; she simply hadn't known he'd already come this far.
"And it burns so bright that the fortified manor has been razed away?" she observed.
"Fortified manor?"
"The mansion that houses this Hold."
"Oh, I… I'm not sure. This Hold we're in—it's an imitation of a place in the real world, you see," Roderika clarified. "So Ash says, anyways. The burning of these walls matches that of the Erdtree."
"I see. And now you—"
The sound of footsteps interrupted Malenia. She broke her gaze from Roderika and turned it towards the noise as it stopped a few feet away.
"Mal… Valkyrie?" Ash called. She noted how he caught himself; perhaps because of the young woman standing between them. "Follow me, if you would."
Malenia offered a single silent nod in Roderika's direction before doing as she was asked. Ash turned and led her into a new wing of the Hold where the sound of burning was quickly joined by the sharp, dutiful clang of a hammer on steel. When they were right in front of the pounding rhythm, Ash stopped, and so did she.
"Master Hewg," Ash began. Malenia noted how low his voice rumbled, and how slowly he articulated his words. "If you'd not abandon your chains, then… may I ask one last favor?"
"Ask as many as you like." The way Hewg's words limped forth from his throat like a diseased canine made Malenia's skin crawl. There was no elegant way to put it in her mind; he sounded dead. They were talking to a corpse. "If I c… if I can smith it, and it will help you to slay a god, then I will make it."
"Your arm," Ash ordered. It took Malenia a brief moment to realize he was speaking to her; she silently walked up and uncurled her arm as much as she could without dropping any of the golden scraps she cradled, presenting them to Hewg.
"Can you repair this?" Ash asked.
"What is it?" came Hewg's weak response.
"A prosthesis."
For how frail and dejected he sounded, Hewg issued a single dry chuckle. "A prosthesis… when I ask you to lay out your arms, th-this isn't quite what I mean."
The sound of hammering stopped. "Certainly not my area of expertise, but, ahh… I suppose I've forged armor once or twice. Lay it out, then."
Malenia cautiously let the scraps of gold fall from her hand, nodding in thanks to Ash when he reached out and caught a piece that fell. It took some effort to place all of them soundly on Hewg's tiny anvil, but before long they presented themselves under his inquisitive stare.
"... Is this gold? Pure, unalloyed gold?" Hewg asked. Malenia noticed the color his voice picked up as he said it. She nodded.
"I've never seen anything quite like it," Hewg rasped. "This… will take materials of the utmost quality to repair."
Ash stepped forwards. There was a soft grunt of effort, and then the sound of a sack falling weightily to the floor beside Hewg's anvil.
"Will this suffice?"
The blacksmith was silent for several seconds, save for his faint, wheezing breaths, barely audible over the sound of flames.
"Where did you get this many ancient dragon stones?" Hewg finally gasped. Judging by his voice, Malenia sensed the old man must have been gawking with mouth agape at Ash.
"Ancient dragons," the knight replied
A single scoff. "Fair enow. I'll… I'll see what I can do, then. This will take some time."
Malenia perked up when an armored hand gently laid itself on her side under her empty shoulder.
"Give him some space, Valkyrie," Ash murmured. She nodded and turned to follow him out of the room and back into the foyer, where Roderika was waiting for them.
"What did he tell you?" she asked.
"Roderika, I…" Ash's ashamed response trailed off. But the young girl knew what he was trying to say.
"So Master Hewg won't listen to you, either," she observed. Malenia could taste the disappointment.
"No," Ash admitted. "I'm sorry."
"You have my thanks, regardless," she deflected. "I'll try and talk him round next time."
All three of them sat in silence for a moment, silence that crackled like the burning wood of the Hold. It was Roderika who finally spoke up.
"I know he was given this great entreaty, to craft a weapon which could slay a god—though I can't help but think of it as a curse. A fearsome curse, put on him by Queen Marika."
A bitter sigh.
"And if that's the case, I'm not sure there's anything we can do."
"Of all the people to be consigned to their fate," Ash muttered, "why you, Hewg?"
Malenia stayed silent. She had nothing to say. Not that she wanted to.
"'Tis finished, then?"
"I've r… repaired it to the best of my abilities," Hewg confirmed. Malenia took her prosthetic gently and gingerly, both out of trepidation of its condition, and trepidation of Hewg's. Holding it near the shoulder, she ran her thumb over the smooth gold, catching her thumb on the rough texture of whatever material Ash had donated to Hewg for its mend. It was gravelly under her scarred touch, like the scales of a dragon. She supposed that shouldn't have been a surprise.
They'd had to wait much longer than she would've liked. Hopefully something came of it.
Malenia took a deep breath, held it for a long, long moment, and then shoved the limb into her shoulder socket. The click it made as it snapped into place was cruder than it ought to be, more of a scrape than anything, but when she released her hold on it, it hung limply from her shoulder as a true arm would, and when she willed it to raise its hand to her chest and clench its fist, it did exactly that, with the same fluidity it always did—as it did with stretching out to her side, snapping her fingers, reaching to rub the nape of her neck… it worked. It worked just fine. The sounds of the dragon scales interlocking with the unalloyed gold were not the most soothing, but she could feel no hitches or friction between its plates.
She couldn't help but gawk as she flexed it, just a tad. She would need to see how it handled her sword, but the fact that Hewg had brought it back to this capacity at all was, frankly, astonishing. More than astonishment, however, she felt a strong gratitude, warm as the flames that licked the walls around her.
"Thank you, Hewg," she hummed. "To be without my sword arm is detestable."
A single tired chuckle. "You'd think an… an Empyrean w-would be a little more skilled with her off-hand," Hewg remarked.
Malenia's heart skipped a beat. Over the sound of herself taking in a sharp breath through her teeth, she could hear the shuddering of Ash's armor.
"Empyrean?" she repeated. Hewg scoffed.
"Come now, I m-may be old, but I'm not senile. I know the legends. A towering red-haired woman, clad in golden garb and a false arm? I've n-no idea what you're doing dragging Malenia here, Tarnished, but it's not r-really my business, is it?"
Malenia said nothing. She wanted to, but she couldn't. Her lips suddenly felt dry; as she wet them, she wondered if Ash's mind were racing as hers was. It must have been, surely—yet he was quicker on his wits than she, for he spoke first. "Thank you, Hewg." was all he said.
"Of course," the smith breathed.
Ash stepped closer to Malenia. "Your sword," he signaled. Willing her heartrate to slow and her hands to still, Malenia held her flesh hand out and felt for the base of the blade; when she touched it, she took it from his grasp and carefully clicked it back into place under the wrist of her newly-repaired prosthesis. Once again, it snapped into place rougher than normal, but it functioned just fine.
"It is holding," she declared. "Master Hewg, your work is… impressive."
She waited several heartbeats but received no reply. When the sound of Hewg's hammer clanging into his next project made itself known over the surrounding fire, Malenia turned towards Ash, trying to ignore the shiver making its way down her spine. "What now?"
"We press forwards," Ash declared, though he did not sound confident. It seemed she was not the only one unsettled by Hewg's state. To simply up and leave a withering old man felt terribly wrong.
Hewg must have felt similarly, for his frail voice came from behind. "Tarnished, before you go."
Ash promptly stepped forwards. "Of course, Hewg."
"… Do me a favor, a-and do look after the girl," he said. His dead voice picked up just a touch of color as he said that, a forlorn shade of blackened-blue that made Malenia feel queasy. The ancient smith was staring death in the face, and it stared back with equally sunken eyes. He'd worn himself to dust, and wanted nothing more than for the end to finally come. There was nothing left to do but wait for it.
It made Malenia want to reach out to him, with the very prosthesis he'd just forged back into shape… and slap him upside the head.
"Why can't you?"
Ash took a step back when Malenia blurted out the question. Hewg's hammer slowed to a halt once more.
"Wh… What?" he rasped. Malenia took a single step towards him.
"You would rather waste away in the ashen facsimile of an abandoned hold than flee with Roderika?"
"I must," Hewg said simply.
"Why?"
"Our Tarnished friend is on a journey." It sounded as if Hewg had gathered all his strength to make those words as hard as possible. "To face you demigods. And your gods. To slay you all. And until then, I will always smith his weapons."
"Know you why he continues on this path?" Malenia drilled.
"Malenia…" Ash warned.
"It matters not," Hewg deflected. "This… is what I wish. To smith a weapon for him to slay a god."
"And what comes next, when that god is slain?"
"Doesn't concern me," he muttered.
"The answer is a new god."
"Malenia!" Ash snapped, but it was fruitless. Hewg drew in a sharp, rattling breath.
"A… new god?" he echoed. Malenia nodded.
"A new god. One whose Order lies as distant from the Lands Between as the very stars, whose Order decrees one law and one law only: Free will. And you are not exempt from such a rule, smithing master!"
Hewg scoffed.
"Tch… What use have I for freedom now?" he sighed. There was that pessimism again. Malenia rolled her eyes.
"'Tis the name of freedom, to decide for yourself!" she urged.
"Then I've decided I will smith a weapon to slay a god," Hewg concluded.
Malenia reached her flesh hand underneath her helm and pinched the bridge of her nose as a groan left her chest. Her nails dug into the tender skin of her face, and she grit her teeth as she felt traces of blood well up beneath her rotted fingertips.
In her moment of speechless frustration, Ash stepped forward.
"Master Hewg…" he murmured. His voice was low. Delicate. A polar opposite to his Empyrean companion. "When you folded the ancient dragon stone into the steel of my blade, you called it a scale belonging to the Dragonlord himself, yes?"
"I said I th-thought so," Hewg replied. "I… I've never been to the land of dragons for myself. N-Not even sure if such a place exists."
"It does," Ash declared, "and I have been there—you were right; it and its lord lie beyond time itself."
Hewg was silent. Ash crept even closer.
"Do you know what that means?" he asked. Hewg's breath shook.
"I-I… I'm not sure," he said. Ash grunted as he heaved his hulking sword off his shoulder and dropped it onto Hewg's anvil.
"It means that stone—that piece of the Dragonlord's skin—has twisted the timeline that this blade inhabits," he said. "This weapon, its strikes bend time. A feat even the Elden Ring has yet to boast. In this small way, we have exceeded the limits of the Greater Will. And if we can exceed it… then we can kill it."
There was no response—not one that came in words. Over the din of the fire, Malenia picked up something new: The wheezing, tremulous breaths that crawled in and out of Hewg's chest seemed to grow even shakier as they started to pick up in pace.
"You've done it, Hewg," Ash went on. "You've smithed a weapon to slay a god."
"I-I…" Hewg stammered. His whisper could barely be heard over the flames. "I have?"
Ash said nothing. Hewg's breathing quickened; the sickly panting bit Malenia with the urge to wince.
"You… how can you be so certain?" Hewg whispered. "E-Even if we accomplished something a god cannot, h-how will this…"
Ash's response was low and crackled like the flames around them.
"I've slain a god before, Hewg. They are pathetic, fickle things, driven by fear and lust, no better than men. I don't doubt I could fell something so frail with my bare hands if I so chose—but to do something that a god cannot? Now we know for certain that we can rise above them."
"Y-You've… slain a god?" Hewg stuttered. Though it was directed at Ash, the question made Malenia give the barest nod.
"Yes," Ash murmured.
"And… you think that I've done it? Smithed a weapon for you to slay a… a-another?"
"I know so."
Hewg fell silent once again. Malenia cast her gaze towards the entrance of this wing of the Hold where Roderika surely waited. Her heart twinged for the lonely girl, waiting anxiously for the tired old smith to see reason. So set in his ways he was… though, perhaps she couldn't blame him. Bound by Marika herself, trapped in this Hold for who knows how long, smithing and smithing and smithing. Did he know anything else anymore? Was he firm in his duty, or simply frightened of change?
"Prove it."
Hewg's dry voice jerked Malenia out of her thoughts. She turned to Hewg as Ash grunted, "Huh?"
"You s… You said you have been to the home of the Dragonlord. The keeper of the Elden Throne before Marika. As close to a god as you'll ever find in this dead land. Kill him, and bring back a trophy. Prove to me this w-weapon can slay a god. If you do, I will leave this place. If not…"
"Consider it done." Ash's reply was immediate and resolute. "I'm on my way there anyways."
For a moment, Malenia swore she could feel the knight's gaze fall on her. She shifted where she stood.
"I must take you to the Dragonlord's quarters, to awaken the needle within you—" he started. Malenia nodded.
"My sword is at your side," she announced, before the Tarnished had even finished his sentence. Her brow furrowed.
"But I will not do it for you," she went on. "I will do it for the girl."
Both Ash and Hewg fell silent. It seemed they sensed in unison that she was talking to them both. The silence hung for a long moment, one that threatened to be broken by a scream. Then, Malenia tilted her head at Ash.
"Shall we?" she inquired. He cleared his throat.
"Yes, we shall," he concurred. There was a grunt and a scrape as he heaved his great sword from Hewg's anvil, and then heavy footsteps signaling his approach. A thorned hand lay itself upon Malenia's sternum.
"I will be back, Hewg," Ash announced. Suddenly, the same glow from inside filled Malenia's chest, but this time, the image of her destination didn't show in her mind. Distorted, fuzzy grey masses attempted to coalesce into something, but dissolved just as soon as they appeared. Despite the vision in her mind failing to take shape—or perhaps because of it—Malenia knew where they were headed next.
Farum Azula. The city of dragons. The throne of the Dragonlord… and soon to be his grave.
And, God willing, the place whither the infernal rot inside her would be banished, finally and forever.
Malenia closed her eyes. Her feet left the floor of the Hold.
The sound of roaring winds filled her ears.