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Torrent leapt high into the air, hooves briefly suspended against the blistering sky as they cleared the ravine that separated Dragonbarrow from the rest of Caelid.
Below them, the rot-infested chasm loomed like a festering wound, but the spectral steed landed cleanly on the other side, dirt and dead grass kicking up around them as they bolted forward.
Tarnished leaned low, guiding Torrent with practiced precision as he pulled them sharply to the left. In the distance, two monstrous dogs snapped their heads toward them.
The moment they saw the approaching riders, they let out distorted barks and gave chase, claws tearing into the red earth.
"Melina!" Tarnished called over his shoulder.
"I know!" she snapped, already digging into her pouch. She pulled out the Beast-Repellent Torch, fingers sparking to life with practiced ease as she lit the flame.
The moment it ignited, an oddly pleasant scent radiated outward—sweet, earthy, and sharp. The monstrous dogs screeched to a halt as if they'd run into a wall. Their snarling heads lowered, eyes flickering with confusion and fear.
Then, slowly, they backed away, whining low in their throats before retreating into the dying woods.
Tarnished let out a low whistle. "Man… what the hell is in that torch? These things look like they haven't eaten in weeks, and that was enough to make them tuck tail?"
"I do not know," Melina admitted, holding the torch high, "but I am glad it works."
Marika's voice chimed in, calm and thoughtful. "I recall… one of my advisors told me of this effect, long ago. I believe it may be of perfumer origin."
Tarnished hummed at that. "Huh… yeah. That does make sense…"
Melina tilted her head slightly. "What was that? What makes sense?"
He stiffened. "Ah-! N-Nothing. Just... the smell. Kinda floral, so it makes sense. Got that weird noble-chemistry vibe to it."
She blinked, then nodded after a moment. "Mm. I suppose so."
"Fool." Marika said dryly. "Thou nearly revealed thyself like a dullard, much like I instructed thee to not."
'I know. I know, my bad…' he muttered internally, cheeks flushing just a little beneath the dried dragon blood.
They rode in silence for a while, the strange wind of Caelid brushing past their faces, carrying rot, dust, and the low groans of dying beasts far off in the crimson fog. Tarnished let the silence stretch for a moment, his thoughts churning.
Eventually, he spoke again—but only in his mind.
'Marika.'
"Hm?"
'Would it be that bad if she knew?'
"…Knew what, my champion?"
'About you. About this. That you're with me. That you're my 'guide', I suppose.'
She didn't respond at first.
Tarnished continued, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. 'I plan to keep her with me. Even after I free you. She's already part of this. She deserves to know. And honestly? If I told her that you were guiding me through the Lands Between, it'd explain a lot of things. Especially why I seem to know more than I should.'
A golden shimmer flickered in his peripheral vision. Marika appeared beside them once more—floating slightly above the ruined road, arms folded beneath her chest, expression contemplative as her long hair rippled in the windless air.
"I do not mind, truly. If that is thy will, then tell her. But…" She added with a smirk, "if thou mean to convince her, it will fall to thee. She can neither see nor hear me. If thou art to claim such a thing, thou must make her believe—without proof."
Tarnished frowned in thought. 'What if I told her something that only you two would know? Something personal. Private. She'd have to believe me then.'
Marika rubbed her chin, nodding slowly. "Hmm… yes. That could work. Though… My dear daughter's memory seems fragmented. Some things may not surface in her mind as easily as others."
"But…" She added after a moment, her voice warming, "I may yet recall something fitting. I shall think on it and return to thee when I do."
Tarnished nodded subtly, a small smile curling at his lips.
'Sounds like a plan.'
Torrent huffed with strain beneath them, spectral hooves pounding against the rot-stained earth as they galloped past the broken remains of the Caelem Ruins. The air was thick with scarlet spores and the ever-present stench of death, but Tarnished barely flinched.
He guided the steed forward, weaving around half-sunken structures and shattered stone as around them, the world was at war.
A convoy of Redmane soldiers—clad in deep crimson armor emblazoned with the lion sigil of General Radahn—fought tooth and nail against an endless tide of corruption. Rotten husks clawed up from the ground like weeds, flailing with broken limbs and oozing sores.
Monstrous dogs, their bodies twisted and bones exposed, lunged with ravenous hunger. Overhead, giant scarlet crows swooped down like nightmares, their cries echoing across the ruined plain as they tore through man and beast alike.
Fire lit the battlefield. The soldiers held tight to makeshift barricades, launching flaming bolts, alchemical jars, and streaks of incantations.
A Redmane knight cleaved through two husks with a greatsword only to be dragged screaming beneath a swarm of writhing insects spilling from a bloated corpse. Still, they fought—with grit, desperation, and a discipline forged in the name of a long-lost general.
Marika's voice broke through the clamor, a rare tone of approval threading her words. "I am glad… Someone still dares to quell the infection. Those banners, that armor… They are of my son Radahn's army, are they not?"
Tarnished nodded slightly, keeping Torrent steady as they circled wide around the battlefield. 'Yeah. That's them. Even after their general's… let's say, indisposment, they've kept fighting. Kept burning back the rot. As far as I'm concerned, they're the only thing keeping this nightmare from spreading beyond Caelid.'
"Mhm…" Marika hummed thoughtfully. "Such loyalty. Such perseverance. They deserve recognition… Perhaps even reward. And yet they receive nothing."
'Yeah…' Tarnished's eyes lingered on a soldier impaled by a rotting crow's talons—still stabbing upward with his dying breath. He nodded grimly. 'They really do...'
There was a pause before Marika's voice returned, quieter now. "Thou didst say Radahn is indisposed… What became of him, after Malenia's foolish blooming? You hath told me of their duel and its subsequent end, but not the aftermath."
Tarnished sighed heavily in his head, dragging a bloodstained hand across his brow. 'The Scarlet Rot's got him… and it's got him good. The proud general? He's not even a man anymore. He's a rabid beast—howling at the sky, lost in madness.'
He tightened his grip on Torrent's reins. 'I remember some people said it's his Great Rune keeping him alive. Just… barely. Stretching out the suffering. Like a leash on a war dog.'
Marika went quiet for a long moment. Then he heard her exhale a weary sigh, one nearly identical to his own. "…The more I hear of what became of my children after the Shattering… After my imprisonment… The more world-weary I become."
Her voice turned sharp with bitter sarcasm. "What next? Wilt thou tell me Rykard fell to blasphemy and let himself be devoured by the Blasphemous Serpent for its power? Or some other absurdity?"
Sweat began to form on Tarnished's forehead as his grip on Torrent faltered slightly.
'Erm… About that…' He thought awkwardly.
"Be silent." She snapped before he could say more. "I do not wish to hear it. Whatever became of my other son, we shall deal with it when we arrive at his new domain. For now, let us finish in this rotted hellscape and leave it behind."
He chuckled awkwardly in his head, wincing slightly. 'Y-Yeah… Good call…'
Melina leaned forward, gently tapping Tarnished on the side. The quiet press of her fingertip through the blood-dried fabric of his side snapped him from his thoughts. He glanced back at her over his shoulder, brow raised.
"What's up?"
She tilted her head, the torchlight casting warm shadows across her face. "Thou hast been quiet for an awful long time. Usually, thou would be muttering of some absurd plan… one fraught with far too much risk and very little logic."
Tarnished blinked, mock-offended. "Wow. Is that really what you expect of me now?"
Without missing a beat, she nodded. "Thou did just kill the Ancient Dragon Matriarch before five of her living children not ten minutes ago. There is very little I expect thee not to try anymore."
He barked out a laugh, shoulders shaking. "Okay, that's fair."
His eyes shifted forward again, Torrent's hooves pounding against the cracked earth of the Caelid highway. "Well… I've been thinking. Might take that detour I mentioned earlier. To Fort Gael. There's something there I might want."
Even as he said it aloud, his mind wandered inward, his tone in his thoughts shifting.
'Marika.' He murmured internally, 'Did you come up with anything yet? You know, to prove you're real to Melina? I'm… not great at lying. In case it wasn't immediately obvious...'
A soft shimmer to his right marked Marika's arrival, her astral form drifting beside him, golden hair glowing in the Caelid haze. She crossed her arms beneath her chest with a soft, almost pitying sigh.
"I do have… Something." She said, tone pensive. "But I am not yet certain it will strike the right chord. Best to wait. Unless, of course, thou desireth to be seen as a madman." Her smirk curled upward. "Well, more of a madman than thou already art."
He hummed under his breath, a quiet "fair enough", then pivoted topics with a glance back at Melina.
"Hey… you wouldn't happen to know any spell that boosts physical and fire attack potency, would you?"
Melina blinked, caught off-guard. "I… do, actually. One called Flame, Grant Me Strength. Why?"
Tarnished grinned slightly. "Would you teach it to me? Once I, you know, get good enough with Faith and all that. Can't cast much yet, but I'm working on it."
Torrent sprinted down the highway, the decaying wind of Caelid sweeping past them as the red sky deepened above. To their left, a crimson shimmer rolled across the rotted horizon—the Aeonia Swamp, stretching wide and filled with abominations of nature.
Marika's voice returned, her tone suddenly much heavier.
"There… that place." Her gaze lingered over the still waters. "That is where they ended it, is it not? Radahn and Malenia. That is where she… bloomed."
Tarnished nodded silently. 'Yeah. That's the spot. She bloomed right there… and nearly killed them both.'
Marika sighed, long and tired. "I shall need to have… quite the conversation with my daughter. Her recklessness nearly consumed all of Caelid. And Radahn…" She trailed off.
Tarnished didn't speak aloud, waiting instead for Melina's answer. The silence lasted a few seconds, then she sighed.
"It would be useful," she admitted. "So I shall teach it to thee—but only if thou follow my instructions to the letter. Shouldst thou prove too troublesome a student… I shall never attempt it again."
Tarnished turned halfway in the saddle, grinning. "Deal."
They rode in silence for a few moments, the rot-soaked landscape flickering past them like a fever dream.
Then Melina leaned forward again, eyeing him suspiciously. "…How didst thou know I would possess such a spell?"
"I, uh… I figured you would," he said quickly. "Since you had the one that cleanses rot and all. Educated guess, I suppose!"
Melina narrowed her eyes at him, her suspicion thick as fog. She didn't speak, but her gaze didn't waver.
Tarnished felt sweat begin to bead at his temple as they rode. Marika giggled in his mind like a fox who had just watched a wolf trip over its own paws.
He jerked his eyes forward, scanning the horizon—until something blessed caught his attention.
"Hey look!" he shouted, pointing ahead. "Literally anything else! There's a merchant next to a Grace—let's see what this guy's got in store!"
Melina squinted at the merchant, then back at him.
She squinted harder.
Tarnished kept smiling like nothing was wrong.
And all he could hear in his mind was Marika's uproarious laughter, ringing like temple bells in the middle of a war.
Tarnished hopped off Torrent with a fluid motion, boots crunching into the dry rot-stained dirt as he made his way toward the glowing Site of Grace just ahead. He brushed his fingers across its ethereal flame and felt the soothing warmth of Grace flow into him, the familiar pulse of the system humming at the edges of his mind.
[Lost Grace Discovered]
Behind him, Melina sat astride Torrent a few paces back, watching in silence as he approached the crooked, weather-beaten form of a wandering merchant hunched beside a small fire and tattered tent. The merchant's head lifted the moment Tarnished neared, face half-hidden beneath layers of cloth and grime.
"Ahh, welcome… dear customer. Yes, right this way… Right this way… Welcome… Valued customer…" His hands trembled slightly as he gestured to his wares, his voice ragged and wavering with a hint of desperation.
"Come trade, in my wandering emporium. Please, buy something… I'm hungry. I've been hungry so long. Please."
Tarnished blinked, a bit taken aback. 'How does buying something help you get food…?'
Still, he didn't press the question. He glanced over the wares—dusty jars, worn gear, tattered scrolls—and hummed thoughtfully.
'Huh… Now that I think about it, I could eat something too.' His stomach didn't ache, but the thought lingered. 'Didn't even consider needing to eat here, to be honest.'
A golden shimmer beside the merchant marked Marika's arrival, her arms crossed as she examined the merchant with mild disdain. She raised one delicate eyebrow, voice dry.
"What didst thou think thou would do, my champion? Everyone needs to eat. Even mortals in a cursed land. Well, except me, of course. I am a Goddess."
Tarnished shrugged slightly, eyes still scanning the merchant's offerings. 'Dunno. Never really occurred to me. Maybe I just figured eating wasn't part of the equation in a world like this.'
Marika sighed like a tired teacher. "A ridiculous assumption. And yet… fitting, somehow."
Among the items, one caught his eye—Preserving Boluses, three in total. He nodded to himself, then reached inward, pulling the necessary runes from his soul.
[-7,500 Runes]
[Acquired: Preserving Bolus x3]
The merchant bowed profusely, his voice hoarse with relief. "Ahh… thank you. Thank you, dear customer. May the stars shine kindly upon you."
'I'm kinda broke now, though. Only a few hundred Runes left, how annoying…' Tarnished thought as he turned around and waved him off. "Don't worry about it."
He turned and made his way back to Melina, who was still seated atop Torrent, arms crossed and an inquisitive look on her face.
"Why wouldst thou buy those?" she asked. "I can cure Scarlet Rot with ease."
He shrugged. "Yeah, but… you never know. What if we get separated or something? Better to have a backup plan."
Melina considered this for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I understand. It is… pragmatic."
Tarnished swung into the saddle, fingers steady on Torrent's reins as they continued their steady gallop down the Caelid Highway, the sky a blistered red and the wind thick with the stench of rot and burning carrion. The horizon ahead shimmered in waves of sickly heat, but he kept his eyes focused.
To his side, Marika's voice drifted into his mind, amused and suspicious.
"The Cathedral of Dragon Communion… that is thy destination, is it not?"
He nodded slightly. 'Yeah. Why?'
A pause. Then her tone sharpened—not quite angry, but certainly displeased. "Tell me, champion. Dost thou truly intend to partake in the Communion?"
He scoffed lightly. 'Duh. Do you have any idea how useful that'll be once I actually have enough Faith to wield it properly? Dragon Communion's powerful. It's not just flashy, it's downright broken. The amount of bosses I'll be able to cheese with Rot Breath alone is insane…'
Marika's astral form flickered into view on the roadside ahead, arms folded, lips pursed with visible disdain.
"Tis a barbaric rite," she said coolly. "To consume the hearts of dragons and become them… It spits in the face of the Order. Of all I built. But…" She looked away, golden eyes narrowing toward the horizon. "Its strength is undeniable."
Tarnished smirked knowingly, but stayed quiet.
"Very well…" She sighed. "I shall allow it, for now. We lack many clean paths forward, and I need thee as strong as possible for the challenges ahead. Just… Do not lose thyself in it."
He gave a faint chuckle. 'Don't worry. I'm good at walking the edge.'
They soon reached the end of the broken highway, where a glowing Site of Grace shimmered like a small sun beside the road. Tarnished guided Torrent toward it, slid off the saddle, and let his fingers brush the flame.
[Lost Grace Discovered]
Torrent snorted softly and carried them further south, the road eventually giving way to gnarled hills and decaying brush. As they crested one small rise, a sudden gust carried a low, wet growl across the valley. Tarnished stepped forward cautiously, then paused, eyes narrowing.
Below them, nestled in a field of bone-white ash and corrupted earth, loomed the Church of Dragon Communion—its silhouette dark and ominous, half-consumed by rot and time. But it was what lay before the church that caught his attention.
A dragon, slumped but massive, lay half-curled in the dust. Decaying Ekzykes.
Its flesh was cracked and pitted, its wings crusted with hardened scarlet rot that pulsed like slow heartbeats. Thick smoke leaked from its nostrils as it twitched in restless slumber, fangs bared even while unconscious. A corrupted, half-dead sentinel—more disease than beast.
Tarnished crouched at the hill's edge, scanning it carefully. Melina slid off Torrent and stepped beside him, arms folded tight.
"I do not believe that is a creature we can fight," she said grimly. "Whatever its state… it would not simply allow us to pass."
Tarnished gave her a small, crooked grin. "I know. That's why we're not gonna fight it."
She blinked.
"We're just gonna ride right past it and hit the Grace inside the church. Easy."
Melina stared at him, then—for once—nodded in relief. "For once… thou art not a madman."
Tarnished chuckled, standing up and brushing his hands off. He stepped toward Torrent, one hand on the saddle—when a low, familiar hum drifted through the air beside him.
"Hmm… Hrmmm…"
His fingers froze on the leather reins, he turned slowly.
There, seated on the edge of the cliff overlooking the slumbering dragon, was a knight clad in round, bulbous armor—polished yet worn.
His chestplate protruded in a comical oval, his helmet shaped like a segmented onion with a slit just wide enough to reveal gleaming eyes behind it. A broad, heavy zweihander rested across his lap.
The knight swayed slightly as he hummed, clearly deep in thought.
Marika appeared beside Tarnished again, golden brow raised. "Another of thy… strange old friends, perhaps?"
Tarnished didn't answer. He stepped forward, slow, uncertain, as if approaching a memory.
The knight looked up as he noticed the approach. His voice, warm and round as his armor, rang out cheerfully.
"Oh-hoh! Forgive me. I was absorbed in thought."
He stood slightly, placing a hand over his rounded helm.
"I am Siegmeyer of Catarina. Quite honestly, I've run up against a wall. Or… the dragon, I should say."
Tarnished stared at him quietly for a moment, a few seconds later, his lip trembled slightly and a single tear formed in the corner of his eye.
"…Onion Bro?"
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Author's Note:
Hm?
What do you mean "Why is Siegmeyer here?"
Onion bro has always been part of this world, keep up will ya?
Anyways, hand over your stones and maybe I'll be motivated enough to write another chapter this week. Can you imagine?
…
Next Chapter Title: Jolly Cooperation and Communion.
…
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