Chương 15: Solitude 3

But soon we must rise, O my heart, we must wander again Into the war of the world and the strife of the throng; Let us rise, O my heart, let us gather the dreams that remain, We will conquer the sorrow of life with the sorrow of song.

"Ten seconds," Medea said.

"I'll see you all in a moment," Emma responded, closing her eyes to lessen the disorientation of the summoning. At that moment, those who knew her best might have been able to see the fear in her eyes. All the Island women were gathered in the 'meeting room,' the largest of the sitting areas. Diana had returned with news that Mikael would release the mutant from her Command yesterday. Since then, the rest of the group had waited in anticipation for this moment.

To avoid being distracted from the discussion, the drakes were housed in an enclosure Scathach and Medea had built in the nearby field. Once the clock hit 3 pm precisely, the White Queen disappeared. Blink, and you would miss it. Due solely to their familiarity with the process and superhuman senses, the women of the Island saw the blonde's figure blur like a TV out of focus before settling again as the clock's second hand moved one tick. The change in Emma herself was much more noticeable.

Gone was the determination on her face, replaced with a forlorn look. She looked near tears, in fact. The blonde slumped, wiping her eyes furiously and sniffling slightly.

"Emma?" Diana asked with concern.

"Are you all right? What happened?" Perhaps the amazon was the wrong person to speak as no sooner had the words left her mouth than Emma rounded on her. Her blue eyes were narrowed in anger, and her fists clenched. In fact, those same fists were starting the process of turning into diamonds. Emma took a step towards Wonder Woman, looking ready to strike her.

"Calm down!" Raven, usually so quiet and introverted, shouted. Her voice was still monotone, but there was an edge of warning.

"He wouldn't want us to fight." Her words stopped the mutant, though she still glared at Diana.

"Get your lasso," Emma told Wonder Woman, voice seething with rage and pain.

"You all want the truth? Fine, you'll get it."

"There is no need," Artoria tried to say diplomatically.

"I'm sure we-""I want the damn rope!" Emma snarled at the blonde.

"By the end of this, I don't want any doubt that what I'm going to say is the truth."

"It's fine," Diana said to the king. She had decided to accept whatever the consequences were of her decision. The amazon left the room to retrieve her enchanted weapon. While she was gone, an awkward silence filled the seating chamber. Emma collapsed into a chair, her head in her hands. The rage seemed to have left her, leaving her worn and despondent.

"What's wrong, Emma?" Glynda, who she sat beside, asked softly. Her fellow blonde shook her head, not saying a word. Diana returned less than a minute later, Glynda and Medea still trying to coax the mutant into speech. Once the amazon entered, Emma did not look at her, simply holding up a hand. The heroine set the golden rope into her waiting palm. The White Queen then wrapped it around her left arm, the thread glowing in a golden light.

"I had breast implants," Emma said suddenly, to the room's confusion.

"My breasts are all natural."

"Is it not working," Diana asked after those conflicting statements.

"It's working," Emma still did not look at the amazon, eyeing the lasso on her arm in contemplation.

"I did have breast implants, but they became natural when I was summoned to the Island. I was testing it. It works off intent. I can't even think about lying or deceiving people with it on. Though I have the option to not talk."

"So," Medea started to say.

"What happened?"

"Right," Emma took a deep breath, calming herself. She looked around the room, ensuring the entire group met her eyes at least once.

"First, give up on making Mikael fall in love with any of us. It is not going to happen while he is trapped."

"Why not?" Surprisingly it was not Medea, Artoria, Priscilla, or Glynda who asked the question. It was Diana. The amazon had been surprised by how much those words hurt to hear. She wasn't the only one surprised. The rest of the group turned to her, Emma included, and Wonder Woman fought a blush at their gaze. Then the White Queen started laughing. There was a hysteric and malicious edge to her laughter.

"Oh god, hahahaha, he got you too!" She giggled.

"What great timing!"

"Rather than laughing," Scathach interrupted. Her voice was severe, though there was a bit of pain for those that paid attention.

"It would be better for you to explain yourself."

"Right, hahaha, I suppose I should." Though Emma giggled a little more, shooting smug looks at Diana, she did calm down.

"I suppose I should start with the baseline. Priscila!" The crossbreed perked up as she was addressed directly.

"Mikael. Do you love him?"

"Ah," the dragon girl reacted with surprise to be asked so bluntly. After a moment, she managed to answer.

"While mine Bard is rather fetching, I cannot say that love dost fill my chest upon thought of him." A few of the women of the Island, such as Artoria, Raven, and Medea, looked at the crossbreed in surprise. Emma simply nodded.

"And that Dragon outside? The massive one?" At the mutant's second question, Priscila flushed a deep red. She started fumbling with the tip of her tail, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

"Never mind, that answers enough."

"What was that supposed to show?" Glynda asked, patting the 'younger' girl on the shoulder. She continued to fiddle with her tail, the tips of her ears a deep scarlet.

"I'm trying to prove a point," Emma said seriously. The blonde stood and made her way toward one of the windows.

"Priscila is never summoned, so her perspective isn't twisted. The man we are summoned to isn't Mikael. Not fully. It is a puppet piloted by him. A different puppet in every world. Mikeal is that!" The blonde pointed out over the ocean, white claws barely visible in the sun's light. Beyond those claws was a great white Dragon, larger than the British Isles. A few of the women did not understand what she was getting at. They all knew the Dragon was Mikael's body.

Medea was the first to understand what she was trying to convey.

"Dragon aura," the witch whispered in revelation.

"Mikael wraps around us, constantly bathing us in his aura." Emma smiled sardonically at the group, especially at Diana.

"It can't control our mind, but it constantly tempts us. We can resist. Some of us have for a long time. But the second we give in, the second we think that falling in love with Mikael is acceptable and desirable, he has us. There is no escape at that point. By now, the last holdover I knew of has been captured. Unless any of you think eleven different women, with different preferences, all falling in love with the same man makes sense?" Diana flushed, realizing what Emma was getting at.

She hadn't realized the change until she looked back at it now. She had a favourable impression of their summoner for the longest time but had never really categorized Mikael as a romantic interest out of solidarity with Artoria's intentions. Her most recent summoning had changed things.

"I fail to see how that is relevant to getting his romantic interest," Artoria spoke. She seemed uncaring for the revelation.

"All of us working together should see greater success in wooing him."

"I'm trying to set a baseline," Emma explained.

"I need you all to remember that, no matter that he was once human, Mikael is no longer one. He is a Dragon, millions of years old, and his mind and emotions reflect that."

"Stop stalling, Ice Queen," Yoruichi said, eyeing the mutant like a cat ready to pounce.

"We already knew his elements drove you mad. We need other answers."

"His elements did not drive me mad," Emma shook her head.

"They drove Mikael mad. They continue to do so. Specifically his Life element, not Freedom. The latter ensures he will always work towards his Freedom, but the former ensures he never forgets his previous 'life.' He remembers everything from his birth to his entrapment in his cell with crystal clarity as if carved into his brain. That is why he can never go hollow. His memories never fade. He knows with bone-deep certainty that there is a world out there, a life he could live, where he doesn't have to kill or die.

With friends and family, a world far from pain. My madness is of a different sort. But you are right; I should just come out and say it. Mikael cannot fall in love with any of us because it is impossible for him to love us any more than he already does." Medea grasped the meaning instantly, the witch recoiling as if struck. Glynda, sweet romantic Glynda, did not see the problem.

"Is that not mission accomplished then?"

"He's cursed," the greek witch said softly, her words carrying around the room.

"Like Aphrodite did to me for Jason." There was a major inhale of breath as the other women realized the seriousness of the problem. Medea had not been shy about her sheer hatred for the gods and Jason for the experience.

"Well fuck," Yoruichi said succinctly.

"Though if that is the case, I do not know why he is resisting so much. As shitty as it is, wouldn't he want to stay with us then? Rather than have us leave, I mean."

"If he had never realized the severity of the situation, he would have," Emma nodded, eyes glazed in memory.

"But then I did something stupid. While he was still in the cell, I dived deep enough into his mind that I passed the avatar completely. I connected to the Dragon." The blonde mutant stopped talking, her eyes distant and mouth curling into a smile. Her eyes took on a faraway look, gazing past the room and the Island to the Dragon in the sky. There was a fire in them, a passion most of those gathered identified as fanaticism. This was a woman preaching about her god.

"You all cannot understand what it was like. That mind was so massive and grand. A being that rivals Galactus or the Pheonix, millions of years old. For a moment, just a moment, I was part of something beyond humanity. And it loved me. It was the kind of love of fairy tales. The all-consuming, passionate and gentle love that carves itself into legend. His every thought was bent on ensuring our safety and happiness. An experience like that... it changes a woman."

"It drove you mad," Raven said plainly. Emma did not respond, wiping the drool accumulated on her chin at the memory.

"Not his elements."

"After he used a command seal to remove me from his mind, he asked me to tell him what I discovered. I was a bit frantic at that point, so I revealed everything. I just wanted to go back to that feeling." Emma looked a bit sheepish as she explained.

"I should have been more circumspect. Once he discovered his mind and emotions had been tampered with without realizing it, that is when his elements really came into play. He bent his Freedom element to resisting his own mind and its urges. Every time we are summoned, his at war with himself. That is why he is so emotional in our presence. It is all he can do not to bend to our every whim. But he cannot ignore a direct order from us. If we were to tell him to sit still for an eternity?

He would do so, his Freedom be damned."

"That is why he wanted to keep it a secret," Medea said.

"If Jason did not know of his influence on me, many terrible things could have been prevented. You devised the sanity lie to ensure I didn't use Rule Breaker."

"One of my suggestions. It was easy to pass on since it was close to the truth. Mikael initially wanted me to forget as well," Emma said, compelled by the lasso to bring the truth to light rather than let her previous lies remain.

"His second order was to forget everything I saw in his mind. The only reason I know that is that I dove right back into his mind when I realized my memories were tampered with. He had to use another to get me out, then another to ensure I never did it again. His final two were to order me to ensure I never used our influence over him and never reveal what we discovered. The last of which he just released me from."

"So he never healed you? Never ordered you to regain your sanity?" Robin asked, realizing she had been lied to multiple times.

"Why not order you to forget again?"

"I found out instantly last time my memories were removed. My psychic abilities are not for show, you know? Rather than risk the same mistake, he went with another plan. You were right about Mikael being smart enough not to use a vague order like that." Emma shrugged, unconcerned about her previous lies.

"He simply helped me work through what I felt in his mind the old-fashioned way. We sat and talked. He is no psychologist, but sometimes a sympathetic ear is all you need. I recovered enough to fake it. Mikael didn't notice my change since we were so new to each other then. I then offered myself as a co-conspirator. By the end, we not only had numerous different lies worked out when you all got curious about his shifting behaviour."

"And he never realized the depth of your change," Raven noted doubtfully. Emma shrugged again.

"So you've been lying to us this entire time," Tsunade spoke, eyes narrowed at her fellow blonde.

"Why should we trust you now?"

"Because of this," Emma lifted her arm, the one wrapped in the Lasso of Truth.

"Besides, all my plans are out the window. Lying now does nothing. You all would have realized the most crucial part as soon as Robin was summoned tonight."

"Why?" The pirate asked.

"Because, going forward, Mikael will use the same order whenever we are summoned now.

'Never command me!' He wants to ensure that now that we know we can control him, we will never be able to use our influence. He will refresh it every summoning in case Medea uses Rule Breaker to free us from the Command. We essentially have unlimited Command Seals with him. He wants to make sure we cannot use them."

"He does not trust us?" Artoria looked affronted as if the idea of using her new influence was repulsive.

"You are still not getting where Mikael is coming from," Emma shook her head.

"Mikael knows his feelings for us are foreign, so he fights them. If they were not, he wouldn't have a problem. Even then, if he could convince himself he could fall in love with us, then maybe, just maybe, he could come to trust us. But ask yourself this; could you fall in love with someone you saw for a few hours once a year?" The room remained silent, aware of the answers in their hearts.

"To us, he takes us on 'dates' every other day or so. To him? He has to take notes on any conversation we have so he doesn't forget them before the next time we are summoned."

"So what did you want, Ice Queen? You said you had a plan before this? What was it?" Yoruichi asked, trying to shift the subject slightly from her own blindness. The women had known that time was different between the Island and Mikael for a while, but they hadn't pieced together just how it would affect their romantic prospects.

"I want his babies," the mutant deadpanned. More than one of the women blushed at the thought, but Emma continued.

"I want to follow him for eternity. I want to help him conquer worlds and travel the globe or the stars. I want him to marry me. To bend me over a desk and fuck me till I pass out. I want to bring him any women he finds attractive. I do not want to be left behind. If I can make my ex-husband," the mutant almost spat the words, "successful enough to run the greatest mutant school and team, then with Mikael, there is nothing he and I could not accomplish together."

The lasso continued to glow, ensuring the truth of her words. More than one woman had lost themselves in fantasy at her wishes, though a few had remained focused on the key concepts she hadn't addressed.

"I suppose we were some women you wanted him to bed?" Scathach did not seem affronted by the idea, but her tone was unimpressed. Emma simply shrugged.

"Now we know why he is so insistent on leaving us behind. We are too much of a risk to him. You said we couldn't make him fall in love with us while the time difference is so great. How were you planning on fixing that issue yourself?"

"No matter when he gets free," Emma explained, "he will have to stop by the Island at least once to pick up all the supplies he has left here."

"The bottomless chests, they have all the arms and armour he could want," Medea said in realization, shaken from her fantasy of blue-eyed, brown-haired, pointy-eared children.

"And he will need to talk to Priscila," Emma nodded at the dragon girl.

"Without knowing if someone he bit, bound rather than summoned, also exerts control over him, he will never be able to offer the benefits of the catalogue to anyone. Despite being tempted several times, he hasn't bound anyone since Priscila because he doesn't know if it will increase the chains around his neck." This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"And when he is on the Island, we will have the opportunity to convince him without fear of the time disconnect," Scathach nodded.

"It's a solid plan. How likely is it now? Does he still intend to return to the Island now that we know of our influence?"

"I don't know!" Emma whirled on Diana.

"His mental shields are more substantial than any I have ever seen from those who are not immune. He must have been practicing using Mental Talent since the cell. Whatever trust he had in me is gone. I should never have gone along with your plan. He used to let me into his mind so long as I did not connect to the Dragon. Now, I cannot access it at all."

"I am not sorry," Diana said, meeting the mutant's eyes.

"While this turn of events is regretful, deception is no way to base a relationship. If we were to engage with him as equals, we needed to know this information. Now, should he come to trust us again, it will be knowing that we consciously choose not to exert our power over him."

"So long as he can trust us again," Emma snarled.

"That is not going to happen any time soon!"

"God damn it, Gael!" I cursed, my back aching from the effort of moving so much dirt. Like all pain, it was slightly muted as an undead but still annoying. Digging graves used different muscles than swinging weapons. I had used all my Estus in the fights, and even now, my wounds bled.

"You crotchety old bastard! Why did you have to be so stubborn?" I whipped my wet eyes. Stupid dust.

"Aria's going to be sad now. She's been waiting for you. You lasted till the end of the bloody world! Why did you give in now! We didn't need all your blood at once. A bit at a time would have done the trick. Why didn't you listen to me?" I spent the next twenty minutes making sure the grave was deep enough. The shifting sands did not make it easy, but I wasn't willing to let the man remain too close to the surface.

I had no idea what else had survived to the End of the World, but the man I knew did not deserve to have his body desecrated. Eventually, the hole was deep enough for me to feel safe enough to lower the body down. Gael's armour was rent and torn. His red hood only hung in tatters. Both his crossbow and sword had been split in the fight.

"You killed me six times," I said over his body. He looked peaceful in death. The bastard.

"I haven't died that many times to a single enemy in centuries. Even the Nameless King only got me four times. You tough son-of-a-bitch." Nobody was around to hear my voice crack. Before I began the process of re-burying him, I gathered my magic. First, Repair his equipment. I had to cast it a few times, but eventually, he was good as new. Well, as good as I could make him. The greatsword was still heavily chipped and stained with blood. It was the only weapon Gael kept with him throughout his journey.

The crossbow was covered with twists and dinks, rusted with blood, and made highly brittle from overuse. It had been modified to allow the Slave Knight to fight a host of foes alone. Both had been worn for so long that the damage and stains were part of their identity. Then, I gathered my internal flame into my hands. The flame of my soul responded readily, as it had for the centuries I had wielded it. I cast Iron Flesh on the corpse.

The spell was meant to be used on the caster, but my expertise let me adapt it to a new purpose. Finally, I left the grave. Staring down at the Slave Knight, I gathered my last spell in my chest. It rose through my throat and out of my mouth. The White Dragon Breath spell wrapped the fallen man in crystal. His body would never decay, never be infected by parasites. I did not know what lay beyond the End of the World, but this was as good as I could do to ensure his rest was never disturbed.

Gael was the only one to last as long as I. He alone understood the weight of the years. Gael never linked the Fire, but he also lacked my advantages against hollowing. Though I would outlive him, he had been a Slave Knight since before my summoning. He never hollowed and never waivered. He went against Gwyn, his previous master, to do what he felt was right.

"I'll make sure Aria is taken care of." I talked to both the corpse and the soul in my hand. I knew he couldn't hear me, but grieving was for the living, not the dead.

"That's what I named your mistress since she didn't have one. I'll ensure she gets your blood and soul and finishes her painting. It will be a good home. I'll ensure she is cared for after I leave and that only good people find it." I stared at the man briefly, a lump in my throat.

"Stupid sand," I rubbed my eyes, clearing the wetness from them.

"You broke my streak, you cunt-waffle. For three damn games, I've made sure everyone gets a happy ending of some sort. But you had to be damn stubborn. I hope you can rest. You did your duty." Duty in the souls' games was a blessing and a curse. It gave the undead purpose, delaying their hollowing and pushing them forward. I had often used it as an excuse to ensure as happy an end as possible for those I could save. I buried him then, leaving only a small tombstone to mark the location.

I carefully place the barrel full of the blood of the Dark Soul into my bottomless box. It was marked so I did not get confused with the other barrels full of my own blood. Unlike this ass-hat, I was smart enough to take a little bit at a time. I would pass them on to the next woman summoned. I would have to consult my notes, but it was either Yoruichi or Raven. I always had trouble remembering the order of summonings. The time was coming, the energy bubbling up in my chest. I remembered Robin, I think.

She didn't have too many issues with the Command, but I would have to consult my notes again to ensure. I started to walk away, back to the bonfire I could use to get back to Ariandel. I hummed under my breath, the only song I felt appropriate for Gael's dirge.

"When once, long ago I was worn down and abused The strongest took the spoils And then we fell at their shoes But now they are gone And my sanity's kept by my chains So I bear them both in faith and hate For family and all that remains." I left the tombstone at the end of the world, knowing no one would ever find it without my help.

'Here lies Gael''The Red Hood was the last of Man to fall''Finally released from his duty'

"How is she?" I asked, eyeing the pale girl sitting before the canvas. The flames licked the room though they did not burn the wood. They did fill the church attic with a heat haze, however.

"As ever, my lord," Sirris responded.

"She has awaited your return most eagerly."

"Did you need to fight any of the Corvians?" I had worried that the crow-like people would disturb Aria and my knight. I'm sure some remnants of Friede's followers were out there somewhere. I knew Aria would not die, but she could be imprisoned again.

"Nay, they stayed well clear of the chapel."

"Thank you, Sirris," I patted her on the shoulder. She shifted awkwardly at the touch. Undead could not feel pleasure in the touch of others. Most stayed away from each other due to paranoia that anyone could turn hollow at any moment.

"I simply do as you will, My Lord."

"I know, and I appreciate it," I said as I walked passed her toward the small woman in front of the canvas.

"Your duty is not a thankless one. You are the knight protecting the hope of this world."

'When I cannot,' went unsaid. That was only part of the truth. When Sirris swore herself into my service, she did not know I would put her to work so quickly. Protecting Aria was important, but giving the undead a task they could focus on also kept them from hollowing. This was the happiest end I could give Sirris without binding her to me for eternity and possibly placing another shackle on my neck.

"My thanks, Ashen One," Aria said as I lay the barrel of blood beside her.

"With this will I paint a world. I would name this painting after thee as thou hast named me."

"Don't," I said immediately, shaking my head.

"Where I come from, Mikael means 'Like God.' This is a world for man and should be named after one." I pulled Gael's soul from my box and presented it to her.

"I see," Aria stared at the dark, pulsing soul for a moment before returning to the canvas.

"Keep it. Uncle would want you to have it. This painting, t'will be a cold, dark, and very gentle place. One day, it will make someone a goodly home. Then I will name this painting 'Gael.'""A good name. Goodbye, Aria," I ruffled her hair as I walked away. Before leaving via bonfire, I turned to my knight one final time.

"Sirris of the Sunless Realms!" I said imperiously.

"My Lord!" She saluted in the manner of the Dark Moon, kneeling on the floor with her hand outstretched.

"I shall hold you to your oath," I continued, fighting to keep my face stoic and commanding. I wasn't one for a ceremony, but I did have a flair for dramatics.

"Your final and greatest duty is thus; You are to guard Aria until the painting is complete. Once so, you are to take it to Firelink. All those who currently reside there have my full trust. You are to ensure they and Aria enter this new world. You may also bring in Yorshka, should she wish it. You shall then hide the painting so no unworthy may ever find it."

"Where shall that be, my Lord?"

"Use this homeward bone," I presented it to the kneeling knightess, who took it slowly.

"I have attuned it to a bonfire at the ends of time. There you will find a grave. Place the painting at its foot. You are then to enter and begin your endless vigil. You will ensure this new world is forever peaceful and Aria remains safe and happy. This is your duty. Can I entrust it to you, my knight?"

"Your will be done, My Lord," I nodded imperiously once more and turned away. I barely heard her whisper.

"Thank you." I teleported out, wiping the wetness from my eye. Stupid smoke.

I reappeared in Firelink Shrine. I still had a few loose ends to care for before the end. The Firekeeper waived at my arrival, and I waved back, but she would be my last stop here. My first stop was hidden in the rafters of the shrine.

"I swear, if you try and kick me down this ledge one more time, I'm going to feed you your own spear," I said, twisting away from Patches' kick. The bald man tried to ambush me regularly, knowing the fall wouldn't kill me.

"T'is just a joke," he grinned, unrepentant as ever.

"You know, you get these... urges... running the business and all... Oh, and I hate myself for it, I do."

"That was one of your earliest excuses," I retorted, falling into the old rhythm.

"You used it five years ago. Try and be a bit more creative with your next victim, alright?" We shared a commiserating grin.

"So you intend to relight the fire," he asked, suddenly serious.

"No way," I responded. I had served as kindling for it twice already. No, thank you!

"Fuck the gods, fuck the fire, and fuck this Age."

"Aye, my friend, fuck them all," Patches' grinned. Despite his kicking habit, which he hadn't kicked yet, (ha) we got along pretty well. There was a reason that, despite using everything at my disposal, I had never been able to cast a miracle in my life. You needed faith and Faith for that, and I had none of either.

"Listen," I said.

"I'm going to change this world, put the flame out of its misery. I do not know what it will look like after that. I've taken steps to give everyone a chance. Soon Sirris, you remember her? Anyway, she'll be by with a painting. You all should enter it. I need you to make sure everyone goes in as well."

"When you say, everyone..." Patches grimaced, his question unfinished.

"Everyone that is currently here except for Yuria. She'll never leave the new age." His grimace deepened, but I remained insistent.

"Yes, that includes Eygon and Irina. I know clerics aren't the best, but they haven't done anything to deserve being left behind."

"Fine, fine," he waved me away. At his core, I knew Patches' dislike for the gods and their clerics was due to how much they had fucked humanity over. I could trust in his good nature. For all he was tricky, Patches had retained his humanity for longer than most were alive. I left him there with a final goodbye. I then bid adieu to Greirat, the Hag, Cronyx, Eygon and Irina. I told them everything about the painting and the coming age I could.

They had been with me for seven years, since I first set foot in the shrine. I owed them a lot. My second to last stop before the Firekeeper was at Karla's little alcove.

"I know not why you would offer such an opportunity to I, wretched child of the Abyss that I am," Karla said after I had given her the same information I had the others.

"This new world of yours would be better without one such as I."

"Did I ever tell you about the legends of another child of the Abyss?" I asked rhetorically.

"She became a queen, you see. Of a kingdom of ice and ivory. She had intended to lead it to ruin as her sisters did the same to other kingdoms."

"Ay," Karla nodded gravely.

"Children of the Abyss bring naught but suffering to those around."

"But then there was a twist," I continued, ignoring her interruption.

"The king she was meant to drive to ruin. She fell in love with him. Though he would eventually perish, Alsanna would remain to watch over his last work. She alone would ensure that his legacy and kingdom would remain safe."

"What is the purpose of you telling me such a fable?" Karla asked, voice shaking. It was easy to wallow in misery and blame fate or nature. Seeing the world's beauty despite the darkness was much more difficult. It was what had attracted me to Dark Souls in the first place.

"Because she was not the only Daughter of the Abyss to find love," I said seriously. I reached into my box, withdrew a finger-thin book, and presented it to Karla.

"What is this? A new tome for me to unravel?" Karla asked. Opening the first page, she froze.

"In a way," I said, starting to walk away.

"It's the notes of Zullie the Witch, Daughter of the Abyss. It records her notes on spells, her experiences with her lover Alva, and a message to their daughter." Karla didn't move or respond, staring at the first page. I left her alcove. Some things were meant to be kept private. I did not go far. Andres' blacksmith station was only a few feet away.

"That was a kind thing you did," the grey-haired man said, his voice a deep rumble. For once, he wasn't working on something.

"How much did you overhear?"

"Enough," the old blacksmith said simply.

"That knight girl will be by with a painting, and I should enter it. I imagine they will need weapons and armour in this new world as this one did."

"That's the long and short of it," I nodded. I stared at Andre for a long moment; I wanted to say so many things and explain how much his help had meant to me over the years. His advice still aided me centuries later. In the end, he wouldn't remember. Patches didn't either. So I turned away to go meet the Firekeeper.

"Take care of yourself, Andre."

"You remind me of someone, lad." I stopped.

"A young kid I knew an age ago. Could barely fight. Broke all his weapons. Begged me to teach him how to care for his favourite halberd properly. A hopeless case all around. I expected him to go hollow in a week."

"And? What's your point?" I asked, keeping the knot in my throat out of my voice.

"Funny thing is, he stuck around." Andre continued.

"For decades, he kept returning to have me work on his arms and armour. That scrawny kid managed to kill Gwyn himself. He was the first Lord of Cinder after the Lord of Sunlight. Linked the Fire and everything."

"Sounds like an idiot. Only idiots link the Fire." I started to walk away again, my feet heavy.

"Ay," Andre rumbled a chuckle.

"He was kind of an idiot. But the good kind, the kind with the best intentions. You could tell every time you talked to him. Whenever he walked away, he would tell everyone the same thing. It showed he cared." I kept walking away.

"Don't you dare go hollow, Mikael!" Stupid ash getting in my eyes.

I hated the end of the Souls' games. When I was alive, I hated them because it meant the game was over. As Alexander before me, I wept, for there were no more lands to conquer. Lore diving and the new game plus were always fun, but the sheer enjoyment of beating one of the games for the first time was over. Here, the end of the game was a process that took me years, decades, even. It was the culmination of a long journey. It was one step closer to the Freedom I so craved.

But it also meant it was time to say goodbye to all those who had been with me on my journey. Most I could give a happy ending to, in one form or another. There were, of course, some exceptions but, by and large, I liked to think I left each world a slightly better place than I found it. I hoped this would be the last goodbye. I may have to go through Demon Souls or Bloodborne after this, but I hoped this would be the last time.

As I watched the pale white portal dissolve, taking Yoruichi and my bottomless box to an island paradise I had never seen, I regretted the necessity of it all. I regretted having to bind the women with seals for my peace of mind. I knew most would never think to use their power over me. I knew that many had professed their love for me. Something like that sticks with you over the centuries. I knew they might even mean it.

I also knew that, though they had the best intentions, it would only take one careless sentence, one stray thought on their part, and I would die. Emma hadn't known that telling me to 'Sit still and let me in!' in a moment of frustration would have me paralyzed. I sat there, unable to move or do anything, as a foreign mind violated my most sacred places. Only when she connected to the Dragon was her order fulfilled, and I could move again.

The next time it happened, there was a chance it wouldn't be my body controlled. My personality whipped away, my body being driven by someone with my memories but who wouldn't be me. Call me paranoid if you wish, but I was staring down the nozzle of a Russian Roulette game that never ended. A slip was all it took. Someone getting frustrated and saying something like 'Change!' or 'Don't lie to me!' Statistics told me it was a mathematical certainty, whether it happened in a century or an eon. No, thank you.

Better to not take the risk at all. I turned from where the portal once was and faced off the Kiln of the First Flame for the last time. I had been here before on my way to the dreg heap, but the sight was still as beautiful. I never saw a total eclipse while alive, so this was a new experience I could enjoy. It was more visible here than anywhere else in the kingdom. Red flowers dotted the ash that filled the area. Swords and other weapons rose like grave markers.

I wondered if Miyazki took inspiration from a particular work of unlimited blades. The area did not look like a kiln anymore, more like a crater of molten slag and ash. I still shuddered in phantom pain. For a moment, I was burning again. A fire that reached my soul and never ended. A lonely pain that lasted for thousands of years, no matter how much I begged it to end. I blinked, and the fire was gone. I was once more alone on a field of cinders.

Yuria had attempted to come along or offer one of her hollows as support. I had declined. This was between the First Flame and me.

I do not know how long the battle raged on. The Soul of Cinder towered over me, twice my height. It changed patterns again in a burst of flame, the sword shifting into a talisman. Leaping away, it cast miracles to repel me and heal itself. I dodged the lightning bolt, but it remained stationary long enough for me to shift to my bow. An enchanted arrow took it in the eye. It howled, an inhuman sound that rattled my armour, sword shifting to a rapier and lunging at me.

I put the bow away and drew my Irithyll sword in time to block. The flames of its blade met the ice of mine in a burst of steam. I had cut off a limb no less than twelve times, impaled it ten times, and separated its head from its neck thrice. I wasn't sure how many times it had died and reformed, but it was over fifty. Whenever the damage reached a certain threshold, it would call upon a new Lord's memory, and the battle would continue. If there was one benefit, it could only call upon one memory at a time.

I had already gone through reenactments of my struggle with Yorm, the Abyss Watchers, and Aldritch. I suspected it followed a set pattern, reaching back further and further. I parried one of its thrusts, impaling its face upon my white blade. It lept away to reform, and I took the opportunity to down my last Estus flask. We had been fighting for hours. I hadn't died yet, but I probably would if this continued for long. Fortunately, the end was in sight.

"Oh, you son of a bitch," I cursed. Lava gathered in my palm as the Soul of Cinder's armour shifted to the Elite Knight Set, and a familiar Black Knight Halberd formed in its hands.

"Joke's on you, you cum-guzzling fuck-tard." I launched the chaos flame at the Soul's head. It battered it away with MY halberd but left itself open from below. I bashed my shield upwards, knocking the weapon from its hand. I had left my own behind, so I grabbed the burning blade from the air, spun it, and impaled it into the Soul of Cinder's groin. I jumped away, returning to my Irithyl sword.

"Ha!" I shouted, raising my middle finger at the burning bastard.

"Back then, I sucked at keeping track of people below my eye line." The Soul let loose another wordless roar, releasing another enormous fire blast signifying a shift. The last one. The first Lord of Cinder. I had been expecting this one from the start. A great sword in one hand, the other empty but crackling with lightning. Flames wrapped around his head like a crown. No longer a hollow imitation. As he was when he first entered the Kiln, Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight, stood before me.

"You've caused me a lot of grief, you bastard. But that's fine," I dodged a bolt of lightning the size of my torso.

"I'm going to take it out of your ass."

"Well done, my Lord of Hollows," Yuria said as I rose from usurping the Fire. It burned in my chest, my Darksign pulsing unfamiliarly but radiating contentment and power.

"Thanks," I said simply. I had half hoped to be summoned away as soon as I completed the little ritual that ended the Age of Fire. Dozens of hollows had already gathered, only a few of which I recognized.

"What now?" Anri asked. I had gotten her on board with this little 'age of hollows' thing by promising her help with Aldridge. While the 'wedding' ritual was unpleasant, it had been consensual. Otherwise, I would have told Yuria to take a long walk off a short pier. I stepped to Anri's side, whispering so we were not overheard.

"If you ever wish to leave it all behind," I whispered, subtly pressing a homeward bone into her hand.

"Use this and touch the painting nearby."

"My lord?" Yuria asked in worry. I'm sure she was concerned with my odd action. I smiled at her, waving her concerns away as I stepped away from Anri. I couldn't remember the last time I had gotten the chance to pull a prank like this.

"Can you hold this?" I pulled the green Sword of Avowal from a side box and presented it to Anri. I had passed my main box on to Yoruichi, but I had kept this one for just this occasion.

"I would rather not," despite saying so, my 'wife' took the hilt I presented to her. No sooner had she a grip on the hilt than I lunged forward, its green blade angled in such a way to bypass my ribs and get my heart.

"MY LORD!" I heard voices shouting in panic, but I couldn't pay attention to them. From my experience, being impaled in the heart only gave me a few seconds.

"Sorry," I said through a bloody smile at Anri's shocked face. The dark sigils flowed out of me and into her. As did the Flame. I wouldn't be around long enough to be a good lord, but Anri could give it a go if she wanted. I did not know if this Age of Hollows would be good or bad, but it deserved the chance to grow. As hands pulled me from the blade, the familiar darkness of death welcomed me. Would this finally be my last breath? It had been so long.

I gasped, shooting to my feet. As far as deaths go, that one was gentler than most. Reformation, though, was always a shock to the system. Going from no sensation to feeling everything was disorienting in the extreme. More than that, I was getting much more sensory feedback than I was used to. The cold of nudity, the dryness in my throat, the desperate need for air. This was good. It meant my body was no longer undead.

I was tempted to revel in it momentarily, but centuries of combat taught me the importance of time and place. I looked around, not recognizing my new surroundings. I was in some sort of chapel. Destroyed furniture littered the ground, spider webs covered the walls, and nature crept up through the floorboards. I was naked because of course I was, but a handy corpse was nearby. I hoped whatever killed the woman wasn't still around.

The cloth didn't fit me, but I repurposed it by tearing the sleeves off and fashioning a loincloth from the dress. Better than nothing. The only thing she had in her pocket was a discoloured finger. This differed from how either Demon's Souls, Sekiro or Bloodborne started. But I was hopeful. Who knew what led beyond that door? Pushing the old wood away, one thing grabbed my eyes instantly. It wasn't the storm clouds in the sky, the ruins around me, or the massive castle in the distant fog.

My eyesight was dominated by the gargantuan golden tree that filled the horizon. I collapsed to my knees as I recognized it from the trailers. Despair filled me as laughter bubbled out of my mouth. I couldn't help the curse that escaped me as my laughter entered the bounds of hysterics. Elden Ring was the one Fromsoft game I never got to play.

"Well, I'm fucked."