Nathaniel leaned against the doorframe of his mother's room, watching as she sat on the edge of her bed, clutching an old photograph of his father. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs, her fingers tracing over the image as if trying to bring him back.
In the hallway behind him, Iris shifted uncomfortably, her own face streaked with fresh tears. Nathaniel turned to walk away, but Iris caught his arm, her eyes pleading. "Nate… why won't you cry? Why won't you… feel anything?"
He pulled his arm from her grasp, a flash of irritation sparking inside him. "Just because I'm not falling apart doesn't mean I don't feel it, Iris. Not everyone processes things the same way."
"But you don't have to pretend you're made of stone," Iris whispered, her voice breaking. "It's like you don't even care he's gone."
The words stung, and Nathaniel's hands clenched at his sides. He glared at her, his voice hard. "You think I don't care? You think this doesn't mess me up just as much as it does you? I'm dealing with it my way. Just because I'm not crying all the time like you and Mom doesn't mean I don't feel anything!"
Iris flinched, her gaze dropping as she bit her lip, visibly hurt. But Nathaniel didn't stop; the frustration, the weight he'd been carrying, was pushing him too far.
"Just… leave me alone, Iris," he muttered, turning his back to her. He walked away, shoulders tense, feeling the silence that settled behind him as he left. Iris stood there, alone, her expression a mixture of sorrow and confusion.
In his room, Nathaniel slammed the door shut, leaning against it as his anger gave way to something else, something raw and buried deep. He forced himself to hold it in, refusing to let even a tear slip, even as the weight of his father's absence threatened to break through his walls.
Nathaniel clenched his fists, his breaths coming in short, uneven bursts as he leaned against the door. The silence in the room pressed in on him, making it harder to keep his emotions at bay. He thought of his father's laugh, the way he'd clap him on the shoulder after a long day. Memories poured in, overwhelming him, chipping away at the walls he'd built around his grief.
A shudder ran through him, and, before he could stop it, the first tear slipped down his cheek. He buried his face in his hands, his body shaking as he let out a strangled sob, the weight of his loss finally spilling over. The anger, the emptiness, the ache—everything he'd tried so hard to hold back—now surged forward, breaking him down.
He didn't hear the door open, didn't notice Iris until she was beside him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She didn't say a word, just held him close, her own tears blending into the silence as she rested her chin on his shoulder.
For a long time, they stayed like that, his sobs quieting as the comforting warmth of her presence grounded him. She didn't try to make him talk, didn't offer empty reassurances. Instead, she simply stayed with him, sharing the weight of his grief, until the hurt became a little easier to bear.
When his breathing steadied, Nathaniel whispered, his voice rough, "I'm sorry… I didn't mean…"
"I know," Iris said softly, a faint, understanding smile in her eyes.
Nathaniel nodded, letting out a slow, shaky breath. He felt lighter, somehow, and as they sat together, he realized that, even in their grief, they weren't alone.
Nathaniel felt himself sinking under the weight of everything he'd kept buried, the tears coming harder, unstoppable. Before he could try to pull himself together, he felt Iris's arms wrap around him, gentle but firm, pulling him into an embrace. She held him tightly, her cheek resting against his as she whispered, "It's okay, Nate. I'm here."
He clung to her, feeling his anger and sorrow unravel in the warmth of her hug. Her embrace softened the ache, filling the hollow space his father's absence had left. With her arms around him, he felt the walls he'd built around his grief start to crumble, replaced by something fragile but real—a sense of being understood, of not having to carry it alone.
For the first time, Nathaniel let himself lean into her, taking in the quiet strength in her hug. Iris didn't let go, her hand gently rubbing his back, until his sobs eased, leaving him feeling exhausted but strangely lighter.
As Nathaniel, Roderika, and Melina entered the Grand Library of Raya Lucaria, they were greeted by an unexpected sight. Queen Rennala sat forlornly amidst a sea of ancient tomes and glowing glintstones. Her regal attire seemed to hang heavily on her shoulders, weighed down by sorrow.
Her younger sister, Rellana, stood beside her, offering what comfort she could. Rellana was striking in her appearance, with long black hair cascading down her back and night-blue eyes that held both strength and sadness. Despite her attempts to console her sister, her own expression was marked by a deep, personal pain.
Rellana's voice was soft and gentle as she spoke to Rennala. "Sister, you must find solace in the knowledge that you are not alone. The pain of abandonment is a heavy burden, but we must remember the love that still exists within our hearts."
Rennala, her eyes red from weeping, looked up at Rellana. "How can I find peace when Radagon has left me? Our children are gone, and the world feels so empty."
Rellana placed a comforting hand on Rennala's shoulder. "I know the weight of unrequited love, my dear sister. I once loved a demi-god named Messmer, who did not return my feelings. But I learned that love, though it may be painful, is also a strength. It is a part of who we are."
Rennala's gaze softened slightly. "Thou art ever so steadfast, Rellana. I know not how thou bearest thy own heartache with such grace."
"It is not easy," Rellana admitted. "But we must endure. For ourselves and for those who look up to us."
As the sisters shared this poignant moment, Nathaniel, Roderika, and Melina approached cautiously, sensing the emotional weight of the scene.
Nathaniel stepped forward, keeping his tone steady but respectful. "We're here to talk to Queen Rennala. The Great Rune is critical to what we're tryin' to do. We wanna heal this place."
As Nathaniel looked at Rennala, he couldn't help but be struck by the depth of her grief. Her face, etched with sorrow and exhaustion, was a mirror to his own past pain. It reminded him vividly of the way his mother had looked after his father's death—her face a canvas of unspoken sorrow and loss.
Nathaniel approached Rennala with a gentle, empathetic gaze. "Queen Rennala," he said softly, "I know this might not be the right time, but I can see the pain in your eyes. I've seen that same look before… in my mom's eyes, after my father died. Grief can be heavy thing."
Rennala looked up at him, her eyes still brimming with sadness but touched by his understanding. "Thou… dost understand my plight?"
Nathaniel nodded, a hint of his own grief reflected in his eyes. "Yeah, I do. Grieving can make it hard to see beyond the pain. But sometimes, sharing that pain with others can help us find a way forward."
Rennala's gaze softened, and for a moment, it was as if the weight of her sorrow lightened just a little. "Thy words… they hold a balm I hath not felt in many moons. The ache of mine heart lingereth still, yet thou dost remind me that such anguish is not borne by mine soul alone."
Roderika and Melina, sensing the personal nature of the conversation, stood back respectfully. They watched as Nathaniel offered a small, understanding smile to the grieving queen.
Rellana observed the exchange with a mixture of gratitude and appreciation. She knew how much it meant for her sister to feel understood and supported during such a dark time.
"Thy compassion reacheth depths I had forgotten were there," Rennala said. "Perchance… perchance it is not only the Great Rune thou dost require, but a truth far greater: that in the blackest hour of despair, solace may yet be found in the bonds of others. Hold fast to thy kindness, for it is a strength most rare."
Nathaniel offered a nod of solidarity. "If there's anything we can do to help, just let us know. We're here to face whatever comes, together."
Rennala managed a small, grateful smile. "Thy kindness is noted, brave one. Let us now turn to the task that awaiteth us."
Rellana stepped closer, standing tall with clear determination. "Just asking for the Rune isn't enough. I'm duty-bound to test anyone who would claim it. If you want it, you'll need to go through me. Will you accept?"
Nathaniel paused only a second, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm in. I'll take on whatever's coming."
Rellana's expression softened just a bit, though her grief was still visible. She gestured, and the air between them buzzed with energy. "Get ready, Tarnished. I won't hold back."
Nathaniel cast a final look at Roderika and Melina, then steadied himself, feeling the weight and the purpose of the challenge ahead. The courtyard around them grew thick with tension, as if the very path to the Great Rune was charged by both the pain of a broken past and the duty binding them all. They were other people watching them, cheering them on.
As Nathaniel squared off against Rellana in the cold, moonlit courtyard of Raya Lucaria, he couldn't shake the unsettling tension that gripped his gut. His immortality had always been a safety net, a secret trump card no one knew about. Yet here, facing the regal and deadly twin moon knight, it felt irrelevant. A duel wasn't just about survival—it was about skill, mastery, and honor. And if he lost, it wasn't death that scared him. It was the humiliation.
He had felt invincible after Stormveil. Godrick's blood was still fresh on his hands, and here he was, ready to face another challenge. But as he looked into Rellana's piercing night-blue eyes, he saw none of the rage or madness that consumed Godrick. Instead, there was calm—icy, calculated. This wasn't going to be a mindless brawl. This was a dance.
Rellana's swords glinted under the moonlight, one flickering with flame, the other shimmering with frost. She stood poised, as though her very breath was synchronized with the wind.
Nathaniel rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the nerves. "I've faced worse, you know," he said, trying to sound confident.
Rellana gave him a look that pierced through his bravado. "Bravado does not grant you wisdom, Tarnished. Let us see if you're worthy of what you seek."
Without warning, Rellana dashed forward, her flame sword arcing toward Nathaniel's head. He barely had time to block, feeling the heat sear across his blade as he staggered backward from the force. Before he could react, her frost sword came sweeping low, and he had to leap to avoid the biting cold. She moved like a storm, each strike precise and measured, testing him, pushing him onto the defensive.
Nathaniel gritted his teeth and swung back, aiming for an opening—but there wasn't one. Every move he made, she countered with a deadly grace, twirling and spinning, her blades like extensions of herself. He was fast, but she was faster. His muscles screamed as he tried to keep up with her relentless assault, each clash of steel sending shocks through his arms.
As Rellana spun into a Blade Dance, the courtyard was alight with sparks from their clashing weapons. She pivoted, switching from flame to frost in seamless succession, forcing him to adapt to the blistering heat and bone-chilling cold. Nathaniel ducked under a horizontal slash, barely avoiding the icy trail her sword left behind. His heart pounded in his chest, each breath becoming harder to draw.
'She's toying with me,' Nathaniel thought, frustration mounting. He swung his greatsword in a wide arc, trying to break through her defenses, but she dodged it easily, her footwork light as air. Rellana's expression didn't change, but he could sense her judgment.
"Is this all the strength you have?" she asked, her voice calm as ever.
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. "I'm just warming up."
He launched himself forward, this time more aggressively, feinting left before bringing his sword down in a heavy vertical slash. Rellana stepped aside, her frost sword darting toward his ribs. He spun at the last second, deflecting the blow, but the momentum of her flame sword followed, catching him in the side.
Pain flared across his abdomen, the flame licking at his armor, and he stumbled back, clutching his side. Immortality wouldn't save him from the agony of a direct hit. Blood soaked his tunic, but he couldn't afford to dwell on it. He gripped his sword tighter, forcing himself to stay in the fight.
Rellana's cold eyes narrowed, and without hesitation, she raised her hand. The air shimmered around her as she summoned the Carian Phalanx, magical blades forming in the air, hovering like specters of death. With a flick of her wrist, the blades launched toward him in rapid succession.
Nathaniel dove behind a stone pillar, the blades smashing into it with force. Chunks of stone exploded around him as he narrowly avoided getting skewered. He peeked around the corner, only to see Rellana charging up her Moonlight Wave. A shimmering arc of magical energy surged toward him. He had no time to dodge.
The blast hit him square in the chest, sending him flying back across the courtyard. He landed hard on his back, gasping for air as the world spun around him. For a moment, he lay there, staring up at the sky, the weight of his immortality pressing down on him like a curse. What good was eternal life if he couldn't even win a duel?
He groaned, struggling to his feet. His body was battered, but the fire in his chest burned hotter now, pushing him forward. He couldn't afford to lose—not here, not like this.
Rellana watched him with that same impassive expression, her swords at the ready. "Yield, Tarnished. You are not ready."
"Not a chance," Nathaniel growled, spitting blood onto the cobblestone.
He rushed her, but this time, instead of trying to overpower her, he fought smarter. He dodged to the side, slipping past her strikes, staying close to force her into close-quarters combat. He needed to disrupt her rhythm, just like Melina had said. As she swung her frost sword, he dodged low, closing the distance, bringing his greatsword up in a rising slash.
It grazed her armour, but Rellana stepped back, surprised. She hadn't expected him to adapt so quickly. Nathaniel pressed the advantage, swinging with renewed vigor, forcing her to block and parry.
But she wasn't finished.
Rellana's face darkened with resolve. She leaped back, lifting her sword to the sky. "Carian Sovereignty!" she shouted. A massive, glowing sword of magic formed above her head, larger than anything Nathaniel had seen before.
His eyes widened in horror. 'That thing could split a mountain in two!'
With a deafening crash, Rellana slammed the blade into the ground, a shockwave rippling out from the impact. Nathaniel barely managed to roll out of the way as the magical sword followed up with a horizontal sweep, cleaving through the stone like butter. Dust and debris filled the air as the force of the attack sent him tumbling.
Dazed and on his knees, Nathaniel blinked through the dust. He saw her rise into the air, her form bathed in moonlight as she summoned her Twin Moons. Two colossal moons appeared above her, glowing with arcane energy. One after another, the moons slammed into the ground, creating massive shockwaves that launched him into the air.
Nathaniel crashed down hard, his body wracked with pain. For a moment, he couldn't move, the weight of his injuries bearing down on him.
Rellana descended, landing gracefully in front of him, her swords poised for the final strike.
Nathaniel, gasping for breath, managed to lift his head. "Is that… all you've got?"
With a small smile, Rellana shook her head. "You've fought well, but this duel is over."
She brought her sword down, but at the last moment, Nathaniel rolled aside, dodging the killing blow. He wasn't done yet. But he knew, deep down, he couldn't win today. Not against her.
Rellana paused, raising her swords but not striking. "Tomorrow, Tarnished. I will grant you a rematch. Gather your strength. You'll need it."
Nathaniel panted, nodding weakly as she stepped back, allowing him to retreat. As he limped away, defeated but alive, he knew one thing for sure: the next time they fought, he would be ready.
Nathaniel slammed his fist into the cold stone beneath him, his knuckles throbbing as pain shot up his arm. "Dammit!" he growled. The anger, the frustration—it boiled inside him, threatening to overflow. How could he have been so overconfident? He thought his immortality would give him an edge, but that was useless in a duel like this.
He gritted his teeth, feeling the sting of his failure. Rellana had outclassed him at every turn, her grace and precision making him feel like an amateur. The way she had wielded her swords—one of fire, one of frost—it was like she danced with death, and he had stumbled clumsily in her shadow.
"You're supposed to be better than this," he muttered to himself, his hand still clenched into a fist against the ground. His chest burned, not from his injuries, but from the shame. "You've faced worse. You've survived worse. So why does this feel different?"
He couldn't afford to lose again. He wouldn't.
Behind him, Melina and Roderika watched in silence. Roderika stepped forward, concern etched on her face, but Melina placed a hand on her arm, holding her back.
"Give him a moment," Melina said softly.
Nathaniel's head hung low, but he could hear them. He felt their eyes on him. He knew they believed in him, even after this humiliating loss, but that only made the pressure weigh heavier on his shoulders.
Roderika finally broke the silence, her voice gentle. "Nathaniel... you'll get another chance. You've learned from this."
Nathaniel let out a harsh breath, still staring at the ground. "I wasn't good enough."
"You were outmatched," Melina added, her tone direct but not unkind. "That doesn't mean you can't find a way to win. Tomorrow's duel will be different."
Nathaniel lifted his gaze slightly, looking at his companions through the corner of his eye. "She was just testing me," he muttered. "I wasn't even close."
"You weren't ready for her," Roderika said, stepping forward, her eyes soft with understanding. "But you will be."
Nathaniel stood up slowly, his body aching from the battle, but his pride hurt far worse. He turned to face them fully, his jaw set in determination. "Tomorrow. I'll make sure I'm ready tomorrow."
Melina's eyes met his, her expression unreadable. "Tomorrow will come soon enough. But tonight, we prepare. You can't face her alone again."
Nathaniel nodded, his mind already racing with thoughts of strategy. He couldn't let this defeat define him. Tomorrow, he'd face Rellana again—and this time, he would win.