Cooled Passions - ZyWri - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Interlude: A Long Shadow

There once was a proud and foolish God.

She had such an unearned arrogance, such great hubris, that she plucked the concept of Death from her Order. Such a violation of the natural way ensured that this God's Order, was no true Order at all. However, the minds of mortals were short sighted, and the Goddess was loved and lauded for it, ushering in a Golden Age of Order.

It was an Age of Light, an Age of Life. Plenty abounded, the bounty brought by her stewardship seemingly unending. However, such a thing engendered resentment. Those on the fringes, those more attuned to the Dark and the Night, were outcast. They had no true place within the Golden Age. They were each of them exiled or eliminated from the land they called their own. Those that had the strength to resist, instead found themselves subverted, brought low by trickery and lies, only to be embedded within the very Order that loathed them.

Such things were to be expected.

For you see, there are beings of unimaginable power, out in the spaces between the void. Everyone, both God and Mortal alike, truly only danced to the tune set by these inscrutable beings. Free will was illusion, the cycle infinite. Even if one was chosen to dispose of this prideful God, they would only institute a New Order, aligned to a different being, ready for the cycle to begin anew.

Different outcasts, different misfits, calling out to their own God to institute their new Order, this time with them at the peak.

On and on it would go, a pitiful, unending cycle of suffering and misery. Each New Age destined to end in death, hate and destruction, just like the last. All to the detestable, 'benevolent' plans of these so called 'Higher Beings'.

These Outer Gods, for their strength truly earned them the divine mantle, were immeasurable in their power and influence. However, even they were not immune to the true, unhampered natural order. A Princess had discovered this, in her youth, where she found one of them in her explorations.

A dead God.

The discovery was shocking. These being's projected themselves as all powerful, all knowing and yet they could die? How could that be? She resolved to study it, to tease all of it's secrets from it's corpse. How was this possible? Was she the only one who saw it?

The more she looked, the more she realised. The very idea was unthinkable. She was not the only one who saw, she was the only one who understood.

She had been playing right into their hands. Her resentment, her dissatisfaction, would have lead right down the path set down by these false idols. She was chosen by these beings, a candidate to bring in a new Age. Should she not have found this truth she would have certainly attempted to do so. Already, she was having thoughts of exacting revenge on this Golden Age for the pain it had caused her family, her mother most of all.

She felt a deep, encompassing rage. It was not the hot, violent rage of the zealot, or the directed, controlled rage of the warrior. Instead, it was the calculating, calm rage of the wronged seeking redress.

And so she began to plan.

Her father, would pay.

The Goddess, would pay.

The beings that thought her their plaything?

They, most of all, would pay.

The Numen were surprisingly gullible. Destined Death was powerful, but even a thing of such potency was greatly diminished when it was just a sliver. Especially when that fragment was distributed across many blades. Their rage against the Queen, their thirst for vengeance, it blinded them.

She was once again thankful that hers was much more thought out.

The weapons they had forged were powerful, of that there was no doubt. However, to be a Demigod was no trifling thing. The very fabric of the Age sustained them. These knives would be able to kill parts of them of course, for Death was in their very essence, but without proper guidance their effectiveness left much to be desired.

It was sufficient enough for her purposes, but for the Assassins, they would find themselves to be underwhelmed. When they struck, she was ready. Their rage at her trickery must have been immense, but she had already slew her flesh. She was beyond them.

Her precious, beloved 'brother' was less fortunate, but she no longer had to concern herself with him. She had come out the victor of this skirmish. The Assassins would have to find another to be their God, she never had such low ambitions.

Now all she had to do was slay the tool with which the puppet masters pulled the strings, but she ran into an unexpected obstacle. The symbol of Order, the very thing that defined the Age for what it was, was shattered by the God who once took such unearned pride with it.

Such a thing was outside of her expectations. Each of her siblings claimed what scraps of power they could, squabbling and devouring each other like beasts to grow and retain their advantages over each other. She even claimed a shard for herself, never one to let a tragedy pass without being exploited, but she hid it upon the corpse that only she knew of to keep it hidden.

Such a thing had downsides, the reach and flexibility her power greatly diminished, especially compared to her 'siblings'. It also proved to be a grave error, as her window to strike closed while she was occupied with obtaining her shard.

Her real brother, was subverted. His power, immense and bolstered by the shard he claimed, allowed him to arrest the very movement of the stars themselves. For one whose fate was written in the constellations, such a thing was paralysing. She could not advance while he persisted in impeding her. Her power was affected greatly, forcing her to use what she could still muster conservatively.

She beseeched him, pleaded with him to see reason, but he did not relent. He was already too poisoned against her, seeing her as a traitor to the Order which he had to believe in, blaming her for the Shattering and all that it entailed.

So, frustratingly, she was forced to wait. She busied herself, gathering allies, patiently biding her time. She observed the fighting, safe in her seat of power, merely awaiting an opportunity. She grew frustrated at the pointlessness of it all, wondering what her cursed family could hope to gain with all this destruction. Should one of them prevail, did they even have a plan?

She was surprised by a visit of a vast army to her domain. The twin prodigies were always wild cards, but she did not expect them to come directly at her after their flight from the capitol. She worried that they had somehow divined her role in the start of events, but no. They instead came under a flag of peace.

She entreated with them, being greeted by the sight of the cursed younger brother, "Why hath thy came, siblings? A flag of truce is a hard thing to trust, nowadays. As you can see, I am neutral in these proceedings. However, should some force my hand..."

She trailed off, her puppet's eyes on the forces of the child's sister that were camped in her domain.

The elder sister stiffened and made to speak, but the smaller sibling raised a hand to stop her, "My apologies, Princess. We were on our way to our new home, but once there I will have to slumber to recover for a while."

He pulled from his robes two items, a reed whistle and a silver bell, "Thou art neutral in this conflict, having picked no sides and participated in no battles. I entreat you, please hold onto these for me. A ghost will come and beseech thee for a steed. I beg thee answer her requests."

She knew the boy was a being of prophecy and foresight, so what he stated was sure to come to pass. She had nothing to lose from merely adopting the spectral steed, while risking much by refusing with an army at her door. So she agreed and the twins left her in peace. A very rare thing in those early days.

In return, the brother left an echo of one of his most loyal knights to guard her family home. An arrangement that meant that her new protector could not be used to spy on her, something that would have made her refuse such a payment.

It made her wonder what he knew.

So again, after that excitement, it was back to waiting and observing the pointless conflict. Nothing substantive was gained, while much was lost, the years passing by with only a small change to the status quo.

Still, if there was one thing she now possessed in abundance, it was time. So she silently observed, watching as all fell but her brother and the woman who had never tasted defeat. Their battle was truly titanic, the most destructive by far in the Shattering, but ended in a draw. The woman's curse was potent, however and ensured that her Brother would eventually falter.

Or so she thought. Even as his body shut down slowly, as his very essence corroded away, he still stubbornly held his grip tight over the source of her power.

'Oh dear Brother...' she had lamented, 'Is this how much thou had come to despise me? Even on the brink of madness, you would still seek to stymie me?'

'Radahn... how did it go so wrong for our family?'

She took a twisted sort of pride, knowing that she possessed more patience than even an Outer God. It had sent out a call, bringing back the great warriors that had been exiled, so long ago. They were tasked with reforging the Elden Ring, repairing the Age and taking the throne through force of arms, much like their Scion did long ago.

During those early days, she was once again visited by a surprise guest. She looked down from her throne at the woman, this ghost who wore the face of one dead long ago. Or at least so she was led to believe.

"The Tarnished are the key to ending this Age." The ghost told her. She felt a muted amusem*nt at that, it seemed even death changed little of the other woman's goals.

The spectre continued, "There is one who will be Elden Lord. However, to find him, I need to travel the lands quickly. I was informed that you possess a steed that would let me do so. I was told that he will aid me in finding the one who would be Elden Lord."

The princess had to admit that she had grown fond of the creature called by the whistle, but still, promises were not things to break lightly. So she allowed the other woman to take the whistle with her blessing, looking forwards to seeing what came from it.

Most Tarnished were pitiful, losing hope and direction quickly. The Dragonspear got the closest, but even then he was subsumed by the Outer God's machinations and defeated, then left imprisoned. Many rose, many fell, yet still she saw not a whisper of the ghost nor her steed. Her retainers grated under her patience, wishing for action, their warrior spirit and... other desires... demanding them to take action out in the wider world, beyond the Three Sisters.

This culminated in one of her Oathsworn knights setting forth, venturing into the wider world and striking down a Finger Maiden. The death of one of her enemies was not disagreeable, but it was done without her leave and far too soon. No Tarnished was even close to claiming a Great Rune, attention garnered by such overt moves would only be detrimental to her plans.

She sent Blaidd to bring Darriwill to heel, for him to come answer to her for his actions. When the news came that her loyal shadow was attacked by the rogue knight, she ordered for the threat to be slain. A poor judgement on her part, bringing him into her plans. The knight had served her family for many years, but it seemed even that was no guarantee of loyalty.

Blaidd was successful in his task, slaying the traitor. However, he had news, news that interested her greatly. It appeared that he was not alone in killing the Bloodhound, he had help from a Tarnished.

A Tarnished atop a familiar spectral steed.

Her mist swirled in the moonlight, easing the merchant into a peaceful slumber. Her projection awaited, resting on one of the destroyed walls of the ruined church. She impassively watched as a man rose from the Grace where he had been resting. He looked around, gripping his sword as he beheld her spell, before locking eyes upon her.

"This way, Tarnished." She beckoned, "May I have a word?"

He rolled his shoulders, cloak rustling as he swept his gaze around the area for any other threats.

He replied after a short silence, "Very well, would be rude not to. Especially since you've gone through the effort to organise all this."

He walked over to her, his posture relaxed and confident. She started, "A pleasure to meet thee, Tarnished. I am the Witch, Renna."

He came to a stop before her, still a respectable distance between them, "Damocles, just a Tarnished of no Renown." He smiled, blue eyes twinkling with a joke only he knew, "A pleasure."

She doubted that "no Renown" part of his introduction, Darriwill was not unskilled and this Tarnished's skill was impressive enough that Blaidd mentioned his contributions in the fight to her, a rare feat. Still, she was hardly one to begrudge others their secrets.

"I'd heard tell of a Tarnished hurtling about atop a spectral steed." He remained relaxed, but she could detect a slight tightening of his brow. She continued "And upon looking into the matter, the talk, I surmise, is of thee."

He did not reply, his look sharper, more analysing. She decided to prod, "Thou'rt possessed of the power, no? To call forth the spectral steed named Torrent."

He had tensed at her continued enquiry, but as she named the intelligent steed he relaxed slightly, still keeping up his guard but not expecting a conflict. He seemed to debate what he should answer, wisely not trusting her quickly.

Soon enough, his decision was made. "Yes." He said, "I can 'call forth' the spectral steed."

She frowned at the light hint of mockery in his tone, but she was used to dealing with the uncouth. She hid her annoyance with practice and responded as she had planned, "Ah, as I had hoped." She sent through a silver bell that rested upon her throne to her projection, extending her hand to the Tarnished.

"I was entrusted this, for thee. By Torrent's former master." He reached out his own hand, gingerly picking up the metallic object, "'Tis a bell for calling forth spirits. Summon them with it, from ash unreturned to the Erdtree."

He shot her a surprised look at that, turning back to contemplate the bell at her next words, "The spirits will obey thine command but briefly, as they recall battles past. Now it is thine. To do with as thou wishest."

"A Lordly gift." He murmured, his icy eyes returning to gaze into her own, "It is the kind of precious gift that makes one wonder at a Witch would want in return."

She should have expected such a reaction. Thankfully, it was a question that could be answered with the mere truth. She would admit, the temptation to hold over the head of a warrior such as this a favour was tempting, but that would require breaking an agreement made long ago.

She had conspired to murder her own kin, betrayed those who trusted her and sought to tear down the Order that held this world. She was a sinner through and through, a wretched, twisted thing.

Throughout all of that, the one virtue she still held was her word.

She refused to break it lightly.

"Fret not, Tarnished. The payment for this service was provided long ago."

"In that case." He dropped the silver bell into his pouch, before bowing deeply towards her, "I thank you for your kindness, Renna."

That surprised her. When was the last time she had been thanked for anything? It was a long, distant memory. She felt… conflicted, over that realisation. Still, her path forward remained clear.

Deciding to end this interaction, she spoke again, "Forgive mine intrusion, Tarnished. I doubt we shall again meet. But, all the same, learn well the Lands Between."

Feeling slightly melancholic, she spoke her thoughts as she prepared to depart, "How long will it be, I wonder… Before the Tarnished tire of obeisance to the Two Fingers?"

As she faded from view, she heard the strange Tarnished answer her, "Sooner than you may think, Renna."

She wondered what he meant by that statement.

The next time she saw the Tarnished, it was also through a projection. Her trap on her mother's room activated, summoning an illusion of the Queen of Caria in all her majesty. She watched as her mother's likeness assaulted the Tarnished with waves of arcane projectiles, and summoned forth projections of her own retainers.

She was treated to her first look at how the Tarnished fought. The thing that came to mind, watching him and dissecting his style, was 'ordinary'. Despite her mastery of magic, she had been tutored in the martial side of combat, to not be left wanting. Using that knowledge, she could see that the Tarnished used no particular style, no flashy techniques.

His style was one of the pure fundamentals, the basics of combat focused on to an almost obsessive degree. Despite his style having no flourishes, no flair, no personality… the only thing she could describe it as was beautiful. His control of spacing, economy of movement, certainty in his attacks… It reminded her of show combat's put on by her families' knights. Those fights were practised however, every move and counter planned out and choreographed meticulously beforehand.

To make a lethal combat seem like nothing more than a well practised play… The skill this Tarnished had was terrifying. His large blade was unerring, every space given ruthlessly exploited. Step, thrust, step, thrust, the wounds accumulated on her illusion until it could no longer sustain itself. The Tarnished, Damocles, had won without suffering a single blow.

As the illusion of her mother in all it's glory faded, she watched with bated breath as he approached the real one's hunched form. She was prepared to use all the power she had to strike the Tarnished down if he made any aggressive moves on the defenceless Queen. He did not. Instead, he merely sheathed his weapon and kneeled down before the Queen, reaching out to lightly touch the Golden Egg that she clutched desperately to her chest.

Standing, Great Rune in hand, Damocles nodded solemnly to the Queen of Caria, before turning and making his way out of the Academy. Ranni remembered that he had claimed a Rune from Godrick as well. This would make him to first Tarnished since Vyke to have two. It seemed Melina's choice was correct.

Still, unless he ventured into Caelid and slew Radhan, it had nothing to do with her. Should he go further, she will decide how to react then. In the mean time, she set about reinstituting the protections on her mother, before pausing. She should probably set the wards to not activate against the Tarnished. Alert her to his presence of course, but should he return, the illusion seemed no impedance to him.

She would have to intervene personally to stop him.

The Tarnished did not, in fact go further. After the claiming of his second Great Rune, he apparently disappeared for a full moon. He was spotted here and there, rumours of his movements flying to and fro, but nowhere of any great import. Until of course, the winds took him to Caria Manor.

The spirit left by Miquella was not great impedance to his momentum and her loyal Adula also proved no deterrent. Inevitably he stood in front of her throne. She had taken measures to be suitably imposing, her books proving useful in elevating her head above this visitor. She had no fear meeting him, 'she' was not actually present, merely her puppet was.

Amusem*nt was on Damocles face as he beheld her regal form, but he lowered his head deferentially and allowed her to speak first, as was proper.

Deciding to prod him, she spoke, "Oh? Again we cross paths. I believe I said my name was Renna, when last we met. It pleaseth me to see Torrent hale and hearty…"

Damocles raised an eyebrow, his smile knowing, however he made no move to speak. Annoyed, she got to the root of the matter, "But Tarnished, what business hast thou here? I have no memory of inking thee an invitation."

Finally, the warrior spoke, "Truly, no reason in particular… Though I was surprised to find the Lunar Princess Ranni so far out of the way."

She would have frowned, should her puppet had the ability. She had been found out, it seemed. Still, her visitor appeared to hold no malice towards her, which was surprising.

"No reason in particular, thou claimest? Intriguing." She paused, not believing that for a second, allowing him to interject. When no interruption came, she continued, "I find that hard to believe. Thou hath claimed two of the Great Runes, no? Wouldst it not be prudent for thee to travel to the Erdtree, post-haste? Thou do wish to become Elden Lord, do you not?

"Not really, no." Came the blunt answer, stunning her. He stared at her, blue eyes shining with Grace, "In my travels I found that there are some… Disquieting things about that position."

"Truly?" She was intrigued, watching as the Tarnished nodded to her inquiry.

This Tarnished seemed apathetic about the purpose he was given… she smelled opportunity. His strength was undeniable, such a warrior joining her cause would be a great boon. Let it never be said that Ranni the Witch allowed an opportunity to pass unnoticed. That he was Tarnished was of no import, the whims of the Golden Order were not something she held stock with.

"Then perhaps fate has steered thee to this reunion. Wilt thou enter into my service?" She drew herself up, projecting her regal bearing, "As thee surmised, I am the Witch, Ranni. I stole Death long ago, and now search for the dark path. That I may one day upend the whole of it and rid the world of all that came before."

"Well?" She asked, proud, "Has that roused thy interest?"

"'Upend the whole of it'… That sounds appealing. Very well then, Ranni the Witch, I shall enter into your service." Damocles, she remembered to call him now as part of her retinue, kneeled before her as he swore himself into her service.

"Thou art a rare sort. Not many would have accepted the offer." Wistfully she mused, "But I require as much of those under my command. I anticipate good work from thee."

Damocles nodded and rose, causing her to smile internally, giddy at the aid of such a powerful fighter.

"Then I ask we proceed with haste." She wasted no time putting her new follower to work, "You have already met the half-wolven follower in my service, Blaidd. I would have thee join him in searching for the hidden treasure of Nokron, the Eternal City. I have called for Blaidd to greet thee below. Take from him the particulars."

"While there, thou wilt also find Iji, my war counsellor and Seluvis, preceptor in the sorcerous arts." She decided to reassure Damocles, knowing how… off putting Seluvis can be, "Heed not their peculiarities; feel secure in gaining from them what advantage thou can. I am sure the others will be doing just the same."

She silently celebrated as her Tarnished assented, "I will go and do that then. I will report back before I set off."

In truth, she was no closer to achieving her goals than she was when she started this meeting. Additionally, she was gambling by sending Blaidd and Damocles on a bit of a fools errand. She knew perfectly well what was needed to open the way to Nokron, of course, but telling either came with its own issues.

Blaidd played with Radahn when they were younger, asking her loyal shadow to kill her brother, one that he had such fond memories of… She admitted her cowardice. She did not wish to witness his pain when he realised what would be necessary to achieve her goals. As for Damocles, her new Tarnished retainer… It would set a very unfortunate tone indeed for a new subordinate.

After all, what could she say to him? 'I thank thee for joining my service, wouldst thou kindly kill my elder brother?' No, indeed, it is better that they discover the truth and take upon themselves the task.

That is not to mention Radahn's status as a legendary warrior. She truly did not know whether, even working together, Blaidd and Damocles would prove his match. She knew of Blaidd's prowess and Damocles did hold two Great Runes, of course. But still, the outcome was in doubt. In the end, she could only do as she had always done and await the results.

Once Damocles had returned, she warned him of her coming slumber, the doll's body she was using not suited for long habitation and saw him off on his journey. Still in a good mood from the unexpected fortune of their meeting, she gave him warm words before he departed, her doll's lack of facial movement making it hard to express herself.

"I look forward to the good news when I arise."

She did not, in fact, arise to good news. She awoke as her new retainer entered the wards of her tower, moving to it's summit with purpose. When he arrived, he attempted to rouse her, so she inhabited the doll and stirred.

"Ah, Damocles. What news, have you the hidden treasure? Also… what art thou wearing?"

"I am afraid not, Lady Ranni." Her Tarnished responded, "There is to be a Festival at Red Mane Castle. The General will be felled there and we believe, with that, the path forward shall be revealed. As for my attire…"

He looked down, unlike the generic armour he originally wore, he had apparently found a rare set of full Carian Knight Armour, which he now bore proudly. It was a familiar sight to her, the blue fabric and gleaming silver plate stirring many memories of the past.

"I hope I have not over stepped, Lady Ranni. I had thought, as a warrior sworn to your service, I should look the part. I am not ashamed of my service to you and wished to display that."

She was stunned. When growing up, Caria had already fallen far from it's previous glory. She had dreamed of having a personal knight, sworn to her, like the Princesses of old. Thanks to her mother's breaking by Radagon, such a thing became a distant fantasy. It was then twisted by her elevation to Empyrean, with the gift of Blaidd. She loved her adopted brother, of course, but in the back of her mind she always knew his loyalty was never wholly to her.

Having a youthful flight of fancy thrown before her so suddenly like this was rather jarring.

Controlling her reaction, she replied to her Kni… Damocles, "No overstepping hast occurred Damocles. The attire was merely… unusual to see. If thy task is not done, why hast thou awakened me?"

"Thank you Princess." He kneeled before her, pulling out a glowing item from his pouch that caused her to still, "I awakened you to warn you, we have a traitor in our midst. Selivus sent me to procure this, with the aim to manufacture a potion with which to subvert you."

Indeed, nestled in her newest follower's hands, was a shard of Amber Starlight. Looking at it, even from her remote position, she could tell that it was indeed the one that was tied to her destiny. Such a thing was potent and would have likely worked on her, should she have still been in her mortal flesh. The potion could not work on the purely spiritual, as she was now thanks to her gambit so many moons ago.

She was thankful that her distrust of Selivus ensured that he did not know the exact particulars of her situation. She was even more thankful for Damocles, of course. Such a proposition much have been incredibly tempting to a man, yet he had refused and even warned her of the attempt.

"My thanks, Damocles. Thy service and dedication is… Unexpected, but appreciated. Rest assured, this trespass will not go unpunished."

"I am glad to hear that, Lady Ranni." He looked to the glow that filled his hands, "I know what this is. It could be used to disastrous effect against you, what should be done with it?"

She was surprised he knew what he held. It seemed that her Tarnished was quite the scholar and not wholly focused on martial matters. Indeed, the existence and knowledge of her Amber shard was a problem…

Or maybe this too, was fate? She did not succeed as she had so far by ignoring the signs of providence.

"Your loyalty has been more than proven by your conduct in this matter, Damocles. If thou wish it, I would trust thee with the safe conveyance of that object." Her manner was regal, the amount of trust she was putting in his hands disquieting.

However, she would soon leave this place should he succeed in his task and should he fail… the existence of the shard would be immaterial at that point. The Two Fingers would see to that.

"I am honoured with your trust." Surprised too, if the expression on his face proved true, "I shall endeavour to guard it closely. Do you wish for me to handle Selivus?"

"My thanks, but thou need not fret. By the time you return, the matter shall be dealt with."

"Then I shall take my leave, Princess. I will go meet up with Blaidd and retrieve what you are looking for."

She once again bid him farewell, "I shall await thou return, then."

Even in her slumber, she felt the moment her brother was felled. Time passed from that momentous occasion and soon she was given the Fingerslayer blade that she required, being given it by Damocles. She stared at the innocuous looking thing, resting in her hand. Truly, fate had been kind to her as of late.

She looked up to her Tarnished, saddened that it was likely the last time she would speak to any in her service, "My thanks. Finally, all the pieces are in place… Soon I will begin my journey, upon my lonely path."

She pulled out the key to her discarded flesh that had been inscribed with the Cursemark of Death, a valuable item. She did not know if it would help her Tarnished, but she hoped that it would.

"Before I leave, I shall gift you this. For thy sterling efforts, in this and other matters. A strange gift perhaps, but I am sure a use for it shall be found."

She turned back to the blade, melancholy shadowing her emotions, "I am now certain. Our reunion here was guided by fate. I thank Torrent too for his part."

She steeled herself, turning to regard Damocles with authority, "It was but brief, but thou gave me fine service. You may leave now."

Damocles brow furrowed, regarding her a bit puzzled, "Are you sure, Princess? My help is offered freely."

"It is appreciated, but unnecessary. The path ahead is dark, a burden I shall solely bear."

Seeing her resolve, he nodded, "Very well then Princess. May we meet again."

He turned and left, blue fabric and gleaming plate rustling with the movement. Indeed, she thought as she watched his back, her own Sworn Knight was nothing more than the fantasy of a foolish little girl. One such of her did not deserve such a comfort.

Of course, she should have foreseen this. Her fate was not the only one that was held with the stars. Her greatest enemy, the Two Fingers, had also been freed by her brother's death. That was part of the plan, but the speed at which the cursed thing had recovered from it's fall to the earth had been much quicker than she had anticipated.

It frustrated her immensely, to be so close to the end of her journey yet be unable to progress. The Baleful Shadow, the Two Finger's assassin, was doggedly blocking her way in the guise of her adopted brother. She had adopted a… diminished form for stealth which had served her well to this point, but it it was proving to be an impediment now.

Hearing the splash of movement, she quickly climbed into a casket nearby, hiding from whoever had made the sound. She waited, as the sloshing of movement of the newcomer's steps sounded out in the cavern. There was a pause, before the lid of the casket was moved, exposing her to the sky. Feigning being inanimate, she stilled completely.

"Oh? What a strange thing to find." Came a familiar voice.

A figure in a square helm and unadorned plate armour picked up her small form, holding her with surprising tenderness. Moving to the nearby site of grace, he sat down and starting fiddling with his helm. Meanwhile, she was internally panicking. Being found was the worst thing that could happen here, with this form, protecting herself would require giving her position away to the Baleful Shadows prowling this area.

But wait, could this not be another intervention of fate? The warrior was obviously moving through this underground area. Should she merely pretend to be naught but a child's toy he might take her with him. When he inevitably ran afoul of the Baleful Shadow, she could slip past in the confusion of the combat.

That thought process died a quick death when his helmet came off, revealing the grinning visage of Damocles, "Well well, fancy meeting you here Princess."

What?! How?! Why was he here? This foolish Tarnished who claimed to not want lordship but which refused to relinquish the Guidance of Grace? Her emotions were diminished by her bodiless existence, or so she thought, but having someone who was once her subordinate see her like this, so vulnerable, so weak, so… so… so cute, it left her more mortified than she could ever remember being in her life. If her emotions were not dulled, she might well have died from embarrassment.

No, no, it's fine. Her original plan held. She would merely pretend to be a normal doll, and he would once again aid her, this time unknowingly.

At her continued silence, Damocles sighed and brought out a glowing piece of starlight from his pouch, "Did you forget about this? So long as I hold it, your destiny is bound to mine. It made it rather simple to find you."

He was looking for her? For what possible reason? She had used him, then immediately discarded him upon getting what she wanted. Surely he saw that? What could he have hoped to profit?

She remained still and silent, willing to wait him out. He slumped, "I guess I was mistaken then. Perhaps this is merely a doll? In which case, I will return it to where I found it, as well as close the casket of course. Have to respect the dead."

Bastard. "Thou art like a dog with a bone." She huffed.

"Ah, so she does speak! I was beginning to wonder." His cheek was unabated.

"I hadn't expected any soul to recognize me in this guise. But now that one has, I cannot allow it it's freedoms." She stood as tall as she could, fingers tented and hands on her hips, staring down the tarnished.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, infuriating amusem*nt still painted over his face.

"Preform for me a service, as recompense. Eliminate the Baleful Shadows that prowl these lands."

"Hmm, I don't know I should. I am no longer in your service, remember?" He threw her own actions back against her, increasing her fury.

"The name of Ranni the Witch is already sullied by thee." She seethed, "I will not brook disobedience in this matter."

The Tarnished regarded her, smile lessening as he stared her down. Eventually, in a low voice, he started to respond, "Do you know why I do not wish to be Elden Lord?"

"No. I do not." She replied.

"King Godfrey. Radagon. Who knows how many who have been lost to history. All of them Elden Lords… All of them easily replaced. Becoming Marika's consort appears to be a rather… terminal post…" He shifted, leaning forward and staring seriously at her, "Do you stand by your words to me? Will you really upend the whole of it?"

She stared up at him, as serious as her diminutive form would allow, "Yes." After all, she understood perfectly well how he felt.

He nodded, putting on his helmet and taking up his sword, picking her up and placing her on his shoulder.

"Very well then. I will defeat this 'Shadow' of yours."

The city of Nokstella was not so easily traversed, however. The journey to where her former master had landed was a many day affair, especially as she had opted for the more discrete underground route. The Tarnished were still creatures of flesh and blood, so Damocles rested for the night at sites of Grace. She had observed as he partook in his dinner, offering her some of his provisions but seeming unperturbed when she had declined.

The reasoning behind his lack of surprise, of course, was that she was not the only spiritual companion that he travelled with. The Ghost, Melina, was never far from his side. Ranni had noted her presence, but as she seemed content to not be involved in any of Damocles' dealings the ghost was quite easy to put out of her mind.

The conversations that the Tarnished and the Ghost held spoke of a fondness for each other, though it seemed that their relationship had not gone beyond companionable warmth. Still, as he spoke to Melina and partook in the strengthening she offered via Runes, Ranni wondered when the last time she had a casual conversation was.

There was precious little to converse about, these days, but she found herself wishing to at least reassure Damocles. He did not wish for the throne of Lord for fear of abandonment, and she had callously done just that. The least she could attempt was to explain herself to the man. After all, was it not a similar thought which had drove her own machinations, so long ago?

As he rested at the next Site of Grace in their journey, she spoke as he pulled out his provisions, "Let us speak of the past, a while."

He paused, slowly pulling his dried meal free from his pack before nodding at her, "Very well. Dinner is always better with conversation."

Melina materialised into visual form as well, kneeling and looking attentively at Ranni. She would have preferred this conversation be with Damocles alone, but she was not so boorish as to demand the other woman's absence.

She organized her thoughts and started her tale, "I was once an Empyrean. Of the demigods, only I, Miquella, and Malenia could claim that title."

Damocles paid rapt attention to her tale, making no move to interrupt, for which she was grateful, "Each of us was chosen by our own Two Fingers, as a candidate to succeed Queen Marika, to become the new god of the coming age. Which is when I received Blaidd. In the form of a vassal tailored for an Empyrean."

She could not stop her voice from turning fond as she spoke of her faithful shadow, the only good thing the Greater Will had ever done for her. Still, her tone hardened as she continued, "But I would not acquiesce to the Two Fingers and their plans. I stole the Rune of Death, slew mine own Empyrean flesh, and cast it away."

"'The Goddess Marika is blessed by Golden Grace. All those who share in her blessed family have divinity in their very veins.' I see. This Divinity that comes with being a Demigod seems to carry with it it's own price." Damocles mused, obviously quoting a passage from a tome he had read.

"Indeed." She agreed, glad that he understood the necessity of her action, "I would not be controlled by that thing."

She remembered how disgusting it was, twitching and wriggling as it dictated her entire life for her, as if it was a fact just because it decreed it. In an amusing twist of fate, though she had been reduced to inhabit a series of puppets, she was more free from strings now than she had ever been while in her flesh-carved prison.

She explained the reasoning for the foes they were to face, "The Two Fingers and I have been cursing each other ever since... and the Baleful Shadows are their assassins."

"Makes sense." Damocles responded to her tale, "The Two Fingers would need instruments to carry out their will, after all. One who explicitly rebelled against such will would surely be important for them to silence. Allowing a princess to be assassinated when I could stop it… That wouldn't do at all."

"It would not do, indeed." She rejoined.

As they spoke more into the long night, before he had to retire, she started to feel that same warmth that she witnessed between him and Melina form between him and her.

It was paltry thing, small and fragile, not like the tested bond he shared with the ghost, but still.

It was most pleasant.

At another rest she was in the mood to continue her story, now that she had a receptive audience, "Even when I turned my back upon the Two Fingers. Blaidd remained my loyal ally."

"He is of a rare sort." Damocles hummed, preparing a stew with some of the ants that infested this place as ingredients.

She would have turned up her nose at such a concoction when she still lived and was more naive, but she knew now that necessity made for difficult choices. Not that Damocles seemed all that put out by the unappetizing sight of the creature he was eating.

"I admit to being worried for him. He said that he had something to attend to, but it has been far too long." His brow furrowed, concern showing though his expression.

It warmed her to see. She was glad that her adopted brother had found such a good friend.

"Heh. He is of a rare sort, 'tis true." She agreed, "Though he was created a vassal for an Empyrean, he was a colossal failure on the part of the Two Fingers. Gladly aiding me against them..."

She turned introspective, thinking about her interactions with her treasured subordinates, "Blaidd… and Iji. Both art willing to give too much to me. Even though they understand that I must betray everything, to grasp what lies beyond this dark path."

Damocles remained silent, stirring his stew. Her voice faded into the surroundings, the quiet of the night moving in to swallow the conversation.

He suddenly broke it by asking, "What then? Once you have grasped whatever lays beyond, what shall it achieve?"

"I will rid the world of all that came before. Shatter this false Order that has long gripped this land."

"I would like to see that." He smiled, "Even if it ends up being worse, at least it shall be different."

"Then perhaps I should add thee to the list?" She teased, clarifying when he rose an eyebrow at her, "Another one, kind of heart. As kind of heart as they. Far too kind to me…"

At his growing smile, she realised what her words could be taken as and hastened to correct him, "Ach, this form hath loosened my tongue. I've let slip too much. Forget what thou'st heard. Forget."

"Sure." He grinned, "Consider it forgotten."

She somehow doubted that.

The Baleful Shadow fell, the vicious flurry of blows that it had rained down on Damocles had been utterly ineffective. Her Tarnished had elegantly dodged every attack, returning well struck blows in turn. The patience that was characteristic of his fighting style paid dividends, the warrior remaining standing triumphant.

"Beautifully fought." She commended, her mind turning to the long journey that they had undertook, "My thanks. 'Twas more of a challenge than I envisioned."

"Now I can finally stand before them, the Two Fingers..." She stood, facing the doors that lead to her fateful encounter, "Tell Blaidd and Iji... I love them."

She had no words for the one who had conveyed her here. His aid was invaluable, her dreams would be naught but fancies should he not have agreed to her unreasonable demands. She was at a loss, unsure how to pay him back.

Her inner state conflicted, she decided to trust her path to fate once again, "This is farewell, my dear."

She let her actions speak for her, fading into her spiritual form and moving away, leaving behind a key to a chest in her mother's library. Within the chest, was the one memento that Rennala had held onto even throughout her heartbreak. The ring that would have been gifted unto Ranni's betrothed. Who would have been her Lord.

She could think of no other worthy enough to wear it. She could never say as much, of course, especially not to him. But if their fates really were tied together... She would see what happened. For once, for this single action, she had no grand designs, no plans. She would be interested to see what came of it.

The battle was fierce. She had assumed that the Fingers would have some strength to call upon themselves, but the ferocity with which it fought was surprising to her. Her vessel, the puppet masterfully crafted by the best puppeteer that her house could call upon, was all but ruined. She could expend energy to restore it, but she was uninterested in doing so, at least for the moment.

The road had been long, but she had finally severed any hold the Greater Will could possibly exert over her. She sat, broken form perched victoriously upon the ruined carcass of her would be master. She basked in the moment, feeling relieved. Her thoughts were slow, sluggish, the exertion catching up with her.

She didn't wish to move or do anything, at least for a while. Surely, with this accomplishment, she had earned a brief rest? Soon she would have to move again, prepare to usurp the next age and abscond with her Order, but for now, she could rest. She could not influence the outome anyway, soon a Tarnished would claim the throne and only then would she be able to act.

Her thought turned to her Tarnished, the inscrutable Damocles. Remembering him left her conflicted. She hoped of course, that he understood what she was asking, what she was too cowardly to articulate directly to him. She had left him the Key, but for him to find what it unlocked, realize what it meant and find her...

She was still taken to flights of fancy, was she not? To think one such as her would be that favoured by fate...

She did desire him as a Consort. Not for affection, or love, or any such nonsense, but purely for how deeply he impressed her. His loyalty was unquestioned, even after she had hurt him so, still he faithfully aided her. That was what she desired most in a consort, after what Radagon had done she had learned that lesson harshly.

Love, unfortunately, was simply not something she ever expected to receive.

Her thoughts were broken by the roar of Adula. She had instructed the Dragon to stop anyone coming after her and it seemed that she was wise to do so. Whoever it was, she was satisfied that it was far, far too late. The Fingers were dead, all they would be able to save was it's ruined corpse. She was surprised by what sounded like Adula losing, but even then she did not move. The Dragon had expressed to her his desire to die to a worthy foe, it seemed that his wish had been granted.

She was not in any danger, even from one strong enough to fell the Dragon. Her physical form was a suggestion at this point, something she could recreate at a whim. Even if it was destroyed, it would not take any substantial amount of energy more to fix than her current state. She was truly beyond anything that could actually harm her directly at this point, bar the direct intervention by one of the Outer Gods. She suspected something like that was impossible however, due to their refusal to do so for such a long time.

The clank of armour sounded out, her pursuer following the hole in the Cathedral down to her location. Still, she merely passively observed, before being shocked by the figure that emerged. Wearing the deep blue and gleaming silver of the Carian Knights, helm in hand, was Damocles himself. His signature long thrusting sword was in its scabbard at his side, softly sounding against his armour as he came to a pause, beholding the sight that greeted him.

She supposed she must have been quite the visage, sat as she was, naked and broken in front of the mutilated cadaver of the Two Fingers. Blood had been spilt in plenty, soaking the surroundings and covering her as well. She was unsure as to how to greet him, his change in attire speaking well to his intentions but not revealing all.

He spoke, calm and confidant as always, "You are truly the most difficult of women, Princess."

She bristled at that, not that her shattered form could show it, but he continued uncaring, "Sending me to get your mother's blessing, making me fight a Dragon to rescue you, not even telling me where I could find you... truly, nothing but trouble."

He pulled out the ring, the one that was hidden within her mothers room. Her eyes locked on to it, wondering what he would do with it. The warning she had inscribed was supposed to deter anyone from doing what he had brazenly done, but she supposed that she shouldn't be surprised. Damocles' penchant for happily ignoring her was what had brought him to this point after all.

He regarded the loop of metal in his palm, considering. "The Solitude beyond the Night, huh." He smiled at her roguishly, "I would like to see that."

He got to his knee in front of her, gently lifting one of her hands. Her doll was a poor vessel for her essence, cold and unresponsive, but she could have sworn that she felt his warmth through his gloves. Uncaring for the blood and ichor that marred her fingers, he gently fit the ring onto it's proper finger, before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss unto her hand.

This incorrigible fool. Did he know what this meant? What he had just tacitly stated he would do? He did not wish to be Elden Lord, and yet he just...

She mended her broken form, materializing it over the span of a few seconds next to where he stood. Forming her heavy robes, she turned to regard the fool.

"You would be my Lord? Truly?" She asked, "Despite mine warnings and your own desires?"

"Disappointed?" Rather than be a genuine inquiry, his tone was teasing.

"Hardly, thou art a fitting choice. However, the throne did not call to thee. That you would seek it merely for my sake..." She was confused. Why? What drove this foolish Tarnished to such devotion to her?

"Should it be Marika that you object to," She wanted to get to the bottom of this, "I am hardly the only Empyrean. Miquella is beloved by all, Malenia is a warrior like yourself..."

"I choose you." He interjected, eyes serious as they bore into her own, "I choose you and only you. Should you object..."

"No!" She quickly cut him off, "I am pleased. You just make no sense..."

He laughed, a grin growing on his face at her words, "Well at least I'm interesting then. Much better company on your lonely path than just your own thoughts, no?"

"...Indeed." She sighed, giving up on unravelling his motives.

In the end, it didn't truly matter. Her mother had taught her that men would do silly things for a girl they took a fancy to, though what she displayed that earned such from him she had no idea. Still, now that she had her Lord, she could move forward even faster than she had planned.

"Very well then." She spoke, drawing herself up regally, "My fair consort, I accept thee. Travel the path of the Elden Lord and once all is done, we shall meet like this again. However, I could hardly marry one of which I know so little. Should thou wish to converse, speak to the doll that is on your person. If I can, I shall answer."

"I see." He nodded, serious once again, "If I may, what will you be doing?"

"I go to the night sky." She explained, looking up to the ceiling of the cavern, "To find mine order and ensure that thy efforts are not in vain."

Indeed, she would need to travel to the dead God, upon whose corpse she had hidden her Great Rune and assume it's power. It was the only way she could defeat the ones that lurked beyond.

"Very well. I wish you fortune on your journey, my lady." He inclined his head, bringing on a flare of warmth within her as he referred to her so affectionately.

"Mine Consort, there is one other thing." She began, calling forth a blade from where it was hidden, presenting the handle to him, "Tis a tradition of Caria, that one should receive such a blade upon courting a Princess. I know that it's shape is unlike the ones you favour, however..."

He took the sword from her, the one that she had carried with her all these years. She did not have the fortitude to tell him why she gave him the blade, what it truly meant. A Consort is a political arrangement, one between an appointed God and their favoured Mortal. It was why Marika had been so flippant in discarding hers.

Ranni could not do such, however. If she were to have a Consort, one who would join her on her long exodus... There was no switching, no second chances. The one she chose would be the one she would wed forever. That is what the sword symbolized, the one fashioned by her own hands for the one she would marry.

"I shall wield it with pride." Despite it being a great sword, unlike the large rapiers he used exclusively, he still held her creation and spoke without deceit, gratefully accepting it.

She could not respond to that. This Tarnished was far too much.

She faded from sight, travelling to the great body above, leaving behind a sliver of her essence within the vessel that he carried with him. From that, she could watch over him and maybe steal a few more moonlit moments like the ones they shared in Nokstella. She looked forward to learning more about her Consort. Her Tarnished. Her Knight.

Her Consort was a fearsome warrior. She knew this, of course but the rapidness at which he set out to achieve his aims was stunning to witness. The road to becoming Elden Lord was long, arduous and full of danger. At least, it was supposed to be.

He travelled from the Cathedral of Manus Celes and made immediately to the Great Lift of Dectus. Using it, he arrived upon the Altus fields, where he proceeded to cut a bloody swath through it's protectors. The Erdtree Sentinels proved no more than brief distractions, the projection of Godfrey was defeated with ease and before she knew it, he was standing facing Morgott, her lawful Brother.

It shocked her. She briefly spoke to him before he faced the Tree Sentinels guarding the way to inner Altus and when she observed him next her was halfway up the stairs to the Throne Room itself. What a terrifying force she had tied herself to.

She watched from her position upon the Tarnished as the Omen king slowly descended the steps, calling and naming all the who the ghostly thrones before him belonged to, including her.

"Wilful traitors all." He slammed his staff into the floor, causing the thrones before him to disperse.

Damocles summoned her sword to his hands, grasping it with a firm grip as he slipped into a practised stance, "I wonder, Morgott. Can someone who was betrayed truly be called a betrayer for fighting back?"

"I see." Her brother spoke, eyes narrowing dangerously, "Traitors colluding with Pillagers. No matter. Have it writ upon thy meagre grave, 'Felled by King Morgott, Last of All Kings!'"

The Omen King revealed his sword, belying how seriously he was treating the situation, before rushing towards the Lunar Consort with startling speed. Damocles met the attack head on, Sword glowing with Ranni's power as the two weapons clashed. A hectic exchange ensued, Morgott a flurry of sharp slashes interspersed with Golden Weaponry, forged by his faith in the Order he protected. Damocles responded in kind, vicious, heavy blows followed by ethereal blasts of chilling moonlight.

However, in the end, not even the King could stand up to her Tarnished, his skill seeing him through the fight victorious. He was more injured than she had ever seen him after battle, but a drink from his carried potions soon removed all evidence of it from his person.

She watches as he was rebuffed by the Erdtree and as Melina presented him with the path forward. She wondered what he will do once the price necessary to burn the Tree was revealed. Hoping to at least support him, as duty demanded, she spoke once the Ghost had faded from view.

"Consort. Wonderfully done."

"Ranni? Are you okay to speak here? The Golden Order..." He sounded a bit worried, which was appreciated, but unnecessary.

"Fret not. I am beyond their agents for the time being. But, a question, if I may?"

"Of course. What is it?" He relaxed, trusting all to easily in her words.

"I hope you are not discouraged over-much by the Thorns. Mine curiosity was piqued, however, over the matter of thine Grace." It was something she had been puzzled by for some time, but she brought it up now to allow him to unwind from the fight and relax before he set off for the Forbidden Lands.

"Ah, what about it?" He seemed happy, like he always did when they spoke. She mused that he never once regarded her with disdain, fear or hatred, merely weariness before they spoke the first time.

It was refreshing.

"You claimed to not covet the throne. Yet thou Grace has never abandoned thee. How did this come to pass?" It was true, with so many Tarnished losing the Guidance of Grace, how did the one who did not wish for the goal of Elden Lord keep it?

"Oh, I have a theory. I have no strong proof, but..." He trailed off, looking to the sky, "If all one needed to have the Guidance of Grace was desire, then none would lose it, I think. I believe the true key to it is some thing different. I think it is belief."

"Belief?" She was confused, "But thou had no belief in the Golden Order."

"No, not in that. Belief that it is possible for you to become the Elden Lord. You see, most Tarnished who lose the Guidance of Grace truly lost hope first. However, I have never doubted it once."

"Even when you did not wish for it, you were truly confident that you would achieve it should you make the attempt?" She asked for clarification, somewhat stunned at his answer.

"Yes." He said simply, as if stating a fact of reality.

She wondered if confidence like that was an asset or a detriment. She supposed that whatever it was, her Knight would not be the same without it.

"Heed the words of I, Shabriri."

The corpse stealer's sermon draped heavily over the air, Torrent's steady hoof beats the only sound that was made after it was uttered. Her Tarnished was sullen, withdrawn, obviously deeply considering the implications of what was revealed unto him. The snow fell gently around them, the cold and dreary surroundings fitting his mood perfectly.

She wondered if this was the end, if his resolve would fail him. She knew her Lord was fond of the Ghost, their camaraderie a thing of slight envy for her. Now that he was aware of the fact he needed to burn her, sacrificing the woman in return for burning the Erdtree, what would he do?

The Ghost in question materialised on Torrent, sitting behind Ranni's consort with her arms around his chest, chin resting on his shoulder.

"I would have words."

Damocles slumped, discouraged from reading her tone, "So it's true then."

Melina spoke, calm voice belying the conviction in her tone, "My purpose was given to me by my mother. But now, I act of my own volition. I have set my heart upon the world that I would have. Regardless of my mother's designs. I won't allow anyone to speak ill of that. Not even you."

Her Tarnished remained silent at that, Torrent's faithful gait making the only sounds between them for a while as he considered Melina's words. The crunching of snow between hooves marked the passage of time before his soft voice sounded out.

"Death is easy, in service to a cause." He spoke gently, but his voice carried true, "It's the ones living after that have a difficult time. You won't have to carry your sacrifice with you, Melina."

"All the same. This is my desire, the purpose I have chosen for myself."

"Even though it is my Lordship?" Damocles retorted, face set in displeasure, "Even though I am the one who will have to continue on in full knowledge that we sacrificed you for the throne?"

"I know it is selfish. But this is my wish, Damocles. It must be done."

His jaw tense, he continued staring out at the desolate mountains.

He asked a question after they rode in silence for some time, "What if I found a way to burn the tree without a sacrifice?"

Ranni decided to clear up the issue, "The sacrifice is not to burn the Erdtree, consort."

"What do you mean?" Her consort was subdued, understandably so due to the topic.

"The Giant's Flame is not enough to kill the Erdtree, the thorns will not be gone. The Rune of Death is sealed, meaning that no matter how damaged it is, the Erdtree will live." She knew that was enough for him to understand.

He slumped, morosely drawing the correct conclusion, "The sacrifice is to tap into the cycle of Death and use it to go to where the Rune is hidden."

"Indeed. Even I do not know where it was moved after mine theft." She did not regret said theft though, not after all she had accomplished since then.

She and the ghost gave him time after this, allowing him to digest what was necessary. What he will need to sacrifice to move forward. However, if there was one thing her Knight was not, it was someone who easily gave in.

He set his shoulders, regaining his determination before their very eyes, voice level as he declared, "Damn that notion. I will find a way to save you Melina, even should you hate me for it. Neither of us need die for this."

"You will find no such miracle. The only other path open is unthinkable, moreover..." The reproach was clear in the Ghost's tone, "This is my purpose. The one I have chosen for myself. Freely. Would you really deny me this choice?"

"He would." Ranni heard the amusem*nt in her own tone, "Mine Lord is a tyrant true."

Her Lord was true to his word. Though it took time, he discovered that the young woman he had aided by the name of Millicent held within her the key to what he sought. An Unalloyed Gold Needle, crafted by Miquella himself for the express purpose of stymieing the interference of the Outer Gods. Using it while in a place tied to the Rune of Death would allow him to sever the connection between an Outer God and it's vessel.

Of course, said vessel would require extraordinary willpower to defy an Outer God and use the needle at the correct moment. Not to mention the needle was already in use. The plan was full of holes and unknowns, yet he had pressed on undaunted. She had supported her Lord, despite the Ghost's misgivings. After all, should he ascend besides her, it would need to be in a way he could be content with forever.

Twas a long time to bear regrets.

Getting the Needle and anointing it in a way she was confident could sever the link was an adventure in of itself, requiring her Tarnished to eventually stand against the undefeated swords-woman, Malenia herself. The Empyrion was unwilling to converse or bargain and attacked with a single minded ferocity. The Blade of Miquella lived up to her reputation, giving Ranni's Lord the most difficult test he had faced yet.

Still, in the end, even she had fallen before his eerie skill at arms. It was a near thing, both scoring telling blows, but Damocles proved himself the better between the two. That was, of course, until Malenia surrendered herself to the God of Rot, becoming it's willing vessel in a desperate bid to defeat the Lunar Consort.

Her gained strength was impressive, however her skill suffered under the foreign influence. It was not enough. Damocles slew her mercilessly, his initial goodwill spent in the first half of their bout. Ranni would admit to being impressed, even a little awed. The Empyrean Malenia was renowned as a warrior of peerless skill, unmatched in all the Lands except by her own brother, Radahn. Now her consort had defeated them both.

His strength was truly monstrous. It made her grateful that he was so devoted to her, but left her even more perplexed as to why that was so. The reason for his loyalty to her was never discussed between them, she feeling like it would invite tension, as if she were questioning his motives. She did not wish to give him purpose to think that of her, for some strange reason.

Watching him anoint the Needle and begin the trek back to Leyndell, she was struck by the thought of what exactly he had planned. He was going so far, sacrificing so much, all for the Ghost. She found herself jealous of the lengths he was going for the other woman. It was something that would be done for one who held one's heart. Her feelings were not rational, observing them made it very clear that their relationship was merely close, if strained, not at all intimate.

Upon thinking about it, even though Damocles had agreed to be her consort, she could not recall him showing carnal interest in anyone. It sharply contrasted what she knew of the nature of men, speaking to either a lack of interest or a tremendous will. That he possessed such will was not in doubt, but the reason he denied himself like this...

When she brought up the question of his lack of interest in the women they encountered at one of their rests, she was met by a quizzical look and a question.

"I am your betrothed, am I not?"

Such a response left her warm but conflicted. He truly was an enigma.

A sentiment Melina surely shared as she regarded him in front of the Grace they were nearby, eyes filled with anger.

"I beg you, disregard this foolishness. It is a grave risk, for no reason. The Flame of Frenzy is all consuming. It will devour you, all that you are, then all that exists to follow. Why invite disaster like this?"

Damocles merely smiled, buckles loosening as he removed his armour and clothes, "The fact that you do not understand means that this is all the more necessary."

"I am not worth the world!" She seemed desperate, the Ghost emoting more than Ranni could ever recall.

"That is not for you to decide." Was the calm response.

"Yes it is, you arrogant... Who are you to decide my life for me?"

He paused, before turning to regard his long time travel partner, voice stern, "Your Lord."

With those words, he left towards the fire scorched doors, ignoring Melina's retort.

"This is madness..." She whispered to herself, Ranni able to hear her from the pile of Damocles' belongings.

"Tis a risk, true." She replied to the muttered words.

"Why do support him in this? Surely you know how foolhardy..."

"I must admit to finding myself struck by thy lack of gratitude." Ranni finally realized what she felt to the other woman, all her thoughts clarifying in an instant.

"Pardon?" Melina blinked.

"Not all are fortunate enough to have someone willing to save them." Wasn't that the truth.

Ranni wondered, if Damocles had been in her life before the Shattering, before her desperation drove her to her dramatic acts... it was pointless to think such things of course, but the mind did not always follow reason. The fact remained that Damocles had saved her already, many times over, accomplishing the impossible time and time again, all in aid to her plans.

The least she could do was believe in him in turn.

Damocles returned, stumbling and covered in burns, obviously in immense pain. He collapsed by his belongings, panting.

"Consort? Art thine well?"

"I'm fine." He groaned out, "I just have to focus..."

"You have inherited the Frenzied Flame..." The horror in Melina's voice was plain.

"That was the plan." The attempt at levity fell flat.

"...You are no longer fit."

The words sat between them unpleasantly, causing Damocles to wince.

"Your plan is folly, you have doomed the world to save me against my wishes, against all my pleas... I can no longer be a party to this."

Damocles closed his eyes, accepting the tirade as if he expected it.

"Our journey ends here. I had hoped against all reason that you would see sense, turn back from the precipice before this but now..."

The monologue was interrupted by a cold voice, the very air chilling with it's rancour, "How dare you."

Ranni realised it herself who was speaking, as both Damocles and Melina looked shocked towards her as she continued, "Mine Consort has wagered everything, all that he has and is, on a gambit to rescue you from yourself. Your constant belittling of his efforts have not passed unnoticed. Now, after he sacrificed his very flesh, enduring great pain for thy sake, thou greet him with recrimination?"

"Nay." The word fell the gavel of a judge, causing the other two parties to the conversation to flinch, "The one who is unfit here is thou. Flee from what has happened here if you wish, but thy cravenness is something thou wilt carry to the end of thine days."

Her final words were filled with venom, "His care is wasted on you."

Melina looked struck, her expression despairing. She drew herself up shakily, speaking out with a trembling voice.

"I cannot stay. Watching this... Watching as you will slowly lose yourself... Goodbye, Damocles. Goodbye, Torrent."

She returned to her spirit form, fleeing the scene like the wretch she was.

Ranni was broken from her uncharitable thoughts by her Consort's next words, "Wow. I never thought I would hear you defend me like that."

She sniffed, "I will not apologise for mine words."

"I wouldn't ask you to." His teasing tone was filled with an undercurrent of pain, "It was very attractive."

Fool.

Damocles stared into the Grace, the snow swirling around him being ignored as he sat unresponsive. Her Tarnished had become more and more withdrawn as time passed, his carrying of the Frenzied flame taking a heavy toll on him. His steps were laboured and heavy, his movements portraying immense effort.

Ranni had in fact stopped focusing on her work on the Moon entirely, devoting all her time in to accompanying her knight as he struggled. She was mostly done anyway and leaving him to bear this weight alone would have been unconscionable. Still, it didn't feel like she was doing enough to aid him.

"Consort. Would you be amenable to a conversation?" She spoke, softly, not wishing to aggravate him or break his concentration should he need it.

Damoccles started, breaking off from his fugue and blinked, "Ah. Yes. Sorry, I was just... It's very distracting."

"I understand. I was hoping that talking.. It would aid in... It is foolish."

"No! No." He spoke quickly, before his brief burst of energy left him, "A conversation would be great. I love your voice. It's soothing."

She was struck by his forward words. Her voice? She noticed that he smiled every time she spoke, but she though it was his jesting nature. Was it because he enjoyed how she sounded? That was... complicated to think about.

"My thanks. I thought I should elaborate a bit on mine desired Order." She moved on, not wishing to dwell any further on that topic.

"Ah yes. I was curious." He sat up, giving her his full attention as he brought her out of his pack and sat her down next to him.

"Mine will be an order not of gold," She began, "But the stars and moon of the chill night."

"I would keep them far from the earth beneath our feet. As it is not, the Order is grossly present in the lives of the inhabitants of the Land Between. It influences their lives, constantly flaunting it's existence. Should they wish it, they could even reach out and touch the Order directly."

"I would instead have it at a great remove." She explained, "So that the certainty of faith, sight, emotion and touch... all become impossibilities."

"I see. And the Gods? Would they not be able to move in once your Order is removed?" Her Tarnished proved his quick mind, even with his current satate.

"Indeed. That is why I would take the entirety of my power with me, leaving not a speck behind for others to latch unto. With this, I would challenge them where they dwell." She admitted it freely.

Her Tarnished was like her, insane enough to challenge the very Gods, regardless of the folly others would see.

"Your thirst for revenge runs deep, Princess..." He smiled tiredly, "So long as you wish it, my sword is yours to wield in this fight."

"Should I wish it to be forever? Wouldst thou agree even then, my one and only Lord?" She asked.

"Always." Was the resolute answer.

"My gratitude." They fell silent at that.

Her Tarnished soon made for rest, closing his eyes, moving over to make himself comfortable as he tried to sleep. The snowy landscape was filled once more with silence as his breathing evened out. However, his body remained tense, relaxation elusive. She watched over him, making sure none would disturb his rest with what little power she could spare.

It was all for naught however, as he soon sighed and opened his eyes, blue and sickly yellow fighting for prominence within them.

"It seems the mad have no need for sleep. Fine then..." Getting up, he blew the reed whistle, patting and stroking Torrent as the steed appeared.

The horse chuffed, head gently butting into his chest. Damocles smiled, gently returning the affection, "I'm fine Torrent. Just... tired."

Getting his belongings situated, he soon rode once more to the summit of the Giant's Mountain. The familiar sound of hoof beats in snow was once more the only music they travelled to.

"Ranni." He spoke, voice soft, "May I make a presumptuous request?"

"It is most unlike thee to ask beforehand." She returned.

"True." He smiled, "Could I ask you to sing for me? I am sure it would be beautiful..."

"Thou truly do ask much, dear Consort. Selfishly asking to hear more of mine voice that is held in such high regard by thee..." She was heartened to feel his mood lift at her jesting, "Very well. I shall indulge you."

For a short while after, Torrent's steps were accompanied by the lullabies that Ranni remembered from her mother. Her calm voice carried far, lifting with it her Knight's spirits, as he listened with closed eyes and a smile.

Soon he was sitting at the lip of the Crucible, staring into the paltry fire at the bottom. He took a deep breath, holding it in before slowly exhaling.

"Ranni." He started, "This will require me giving over to the Flame. I am confident I can beat it back, but... It's not certain."

"It is." She spoke, "Thy honour is unbreakable, even by a god. That is why, I would have you swear an oath to me."

He smiled at that, "Very well. What would my Lady wish me to swear?"

She was thankful for her inability to blush as she imperiously spoke her command, "Swear to me that you will remember me. That thou shall return, no matter the distance or the interference of other. Swear that..."

Her voice trailed off as her resolve left her, but was still audible, "Swear that thou wilt always be mine."

"I swear." He got on his knee in front of her diminutive form, the farcical nature of the scene not detracting from his solemnity, "No matter where, no matter when, I shall always remember you and be the Damocles you know."

"Then it is sealed. Go on then, Mine Dear Knight. Mine only Consort. Go towards thine destiny, defeat the fell god and return to me, so that we can create a new age." She nodded, immeasurably pleased.

"By your leave, Princess." He grinned back, a small, paltry thing.

He then turned towards the flames, staring into the pit as the yellow completely swallowed the blue of his eyes, yellow sickly flames rising and agitating the embers in the bottom of the large stone bowl. The flames surged, completely swallowing him and billowing upwards. He raised his arms towards the Great Tree, the flames obeying and rushing forth eagerly to devour all in their path.

As the sky burned, her tarnished stood, his very essence consumed by flames. But he never screamed, never flinched. Stoic, he endured fighting a fierce internal battle.

His will, bent, remained unbroken.

Between one instant and the next, the yellow flames assaulting the Erdtree were replaced wholesale by the familiar red-black flames of Destined Death. She felt her consort reappear within the Capital, grace depositing him safely upon a bed of ash.

Materializing her miniature form near him, she saw her Tarnished lying on his back, motionless. He jerked, body realising where it was. Sitting up, his hand went to his helmet, unbuckling and removing it as he sucked in lungfuls of air.

"Consort... What news?"

At her words, pure blue eyes opened as he quickly looked around at his surroundings, before locking his gave on to her.

"Ranni... It worked! I managed to rid myself of the Frenzied Flame. It's shadow lingers in the back of my mind, but it has no hold over me. We were right."

"I am most glad. You kept thy vow. However, it has been mere moments since the Tree was burned... what happened?" She was deathly curious.

"It was hidden beyond time, in Farum Azula, guarded by Maliketh himself." Her consort revealed.

Ah, that would explain why it could not be found. In a place frozen in time, cut off from the Lands Between... No wonder his journey seemed instant from her perspective. Still, once again her Knight had accomplished impossible. Travelling to and from Farum Azula, defeating not only Maliketh, Marika's executioner, but also shaking off the influence of an Outer God...

He truly was like a legendary hero brought to life from out of the paged of a story. She regretted not being able to accompany him, but it was overshadowed by her relief at his victory.

"Well done, Dear Consort... You have once again proven thyself exceptional."

"Thanks to you Ranni." His grin was familiar and unburdened, "With my promise to you guiding me, how could I fail?"

"Thou art a knave." She sniffed, before pausing, "Thank you for returning to me... I must admit to growing fond of thee."

His smile softened, growing less rakish, "Always."

The remaining obstacles were of no great impediment, she surmised. She had to leave her Consort to make the final preparations for her sure ascension, robbing her of the opportunity to see the final battles. Still her confidence was unshakable and eventually vindicated, as she felt the call of her Consort echoing across space.

Materializing in her larger form, She took in the view of the inside of the Erdtree, crumbling and aflame as it was. Her Consort knelt, head bowed solemnly towards her, facing towards the broken body of Marika. The Goddess' form was shattered and in truth, altogether looked to be rather pitiful. Still, pity would not stay her hand.

"The battle is over, I see." She walked to the divine form, her steps echoing in the wide space.

Bending down, she lifted Marika's head in her hands, holding it aloft towards the Goddess' body.

"I do solemnly Swear: To every living being and every living soul."

Power flowed, The divinity that made Marika a God, the connection to the Elden Ring and her Golden order being subsumed and consumed by the Lunar Princess.

"Now cometh the Age of the Stars. A thousand year voyage under the wisdom of the Moon."

Her seat of power, The Dark Moon, the dead god she had discovered in her youth. It formed behind Marika, the surroundings fading away as a new Divinity was crowned.

"Here beginneth the chill night that encompasses all, reaching the great beyond. Into fear, doubt, and loneliness... As the path stretcheth into darkness."

The flow of power increased, visible streams of Gold turning to Carian Blue as the Moon, her new Vessel, siphoned all that allowed the Golden Order to exist and reformed it into Ranni's vision. The speed was astounding, Marika herself being consumed in mere moments. Ranni let her now empty hands drop, turning to face the man that had made all this possible, all her dreams come true. Even the one held by a silly little girl, of her own personal Knight.

She reached out her hand, extending to the one that had delivered her everything, "Let us go together. My Dear Consort Eternal."

He smiled, blue eyes twinkling in the light of her Moon, as he reached forwards to take her extended hand. Their hands neared each other, her the closest to a living being that she had ever been in the time they had spent together. She could barely feel the warmth of his glove before between the one breath and the next, he disappeared.

Gone. As if he had never existed.

Her rage was immense and terrible. She knew the ones responsible, The Outer Gods finally playing their hands, She came after them with all her ferocity, all her grief. The God of Chaos, still reeling from losing both it's Three Finger's and chosen Lord, was crushed ruthlessly and without mercy. It's power consumed and incorporated into her own, she tore it's realm asunder in search of who she sought, returning empty handed.

The next to feel her fury was the Greater Will, with it's Elden Ring whole and in her hands, it's major source of power was turned against it. Throughout reality, it's agents and prophets screamed as their God was mercilessly killed, their minds unable to handle the strain of the Vengeful Moon scouring them for any hint as to her lost Consort.

The God of Rot, of Flame, of Shadow, all of them were defeated and consumed. The Outer Gods realised what had been unleashed in their midst, but by the time they organised a response and put aside their own conflict to focus on her she was far too powerful. Soon, she was the only God of any great import that was connected to the Lands Between, all the others sharing the same fate as the first two.

Still, she was without her Consort. Her Knight. She would need to turn her gaze further afield. However, as she was now, so much greater than before, her mere presence could warp existence. She required a Herald, to act in her stead.

"Gloam-Eyed Queen."

The woman stiffened, her hood obscuring face, "I have abandoned that name."

"I care not for thy trifles. Mine Consort is missing. I require thee to aid in his search." Silence greeted her, the eye glowing with the power of death staring at her projection from under the cloth.

"I do not see why I should aid you in his search. As you are now, surely you have the power?"

"You have an obligation unpaid. Have you forgotten what he did for thee? Besides that, thou posses a connection to him I do not. After all, you gave him the power of runes did you not... Melina?"

"...He stole my purpose from me." Was the unsure response.

"So take it back from him. Surely you have words you would like him to hear? Besides, thou misunderstand me. I am not asking." Ranni, The Vengeful Moon, turned the barest sliver of her gaze toward this place, with nothing left to possibly interfere.

Melina, to her credit, did not quail. Still, she was smart enough to know that a God of Ranni's stature's displeasure would not end with Death. Besides, Ranni needed her alive. Her existence, should she refuse, would not be pleasant at all.

"What was it you said, on that mountain top? ...Ah, yes. A tyrant true." Melina spoke, resigned.

"I will gladly accept any labels you wish to lay upon me. So long as you preform your task." The Moon responded uncaring, watching as the ghost closed her eyes and focused, brow furrowed.

"It seems... He is very, very far away. He also feels different, lesser than he was, as if all his strength from runes has been inverted. I think... he might have reincarnated, beyond the Fog. The Damocles we knew is dead."

"You shall guide me. I will need a Herald as well, to act in mine stead." Was the command.

"Why should I agree to that? I could guide you there, but it's not him, Ranni. He is not the same man you knew, His soul might be similar, but... He will not even know us, nor remember."

"You lack understanding, ghost. He made a promise, a vow upon his very being. He will remember me." The ghost looked at her, obviously sceptical, but that was fine. She could doubt all she wanted, Ranni knew her Consort better than anyone.

"There is nothing for thee here, Melina. No reason to linger. Thou wished for purpose? I am here, offering it to you." Ranni attempted to get the ghost to see reason.

She would prefer this to be willingly done, her Consort was fond of the ghost after all. Forcing her Will upon the other woman and puppeteering her to act as her guide would destroy the other woman, something she doubted would be received well upon arrival.

"...Fine. I will go with you, and ask your precious Consort for recompense for what he did to me."

That was fine, Ranni was sure to demand recompense from him as well.

Catharsis, the being beyond comprehension, had spoken truthfully. The world her Consort was situated on was guarded by a being of immense power. Ranni could possibly defeat it, but not without bringing devastation unto the world it protected. Not to mention, should she force her way through the barrier, her Order would instil itself on the world.

Within her Order, Damocles was her Consort. That was right and true, but the issue is that Damocles now held no great Runes, nor had the strength in runes he possessed in the Lands Between. Should her Order institute itself, it would force him to act as her Consort, crushing his will and making him act as the role demanded.

Her rebellion was for her own free will, she would not cause her Knight to lose his. So she needed to find another way through the barrier. Catharsis had revealed to her a way, before he had left her to her own devices. Should a Lunar Deity be called upon by Damocles, she could usurp the prayer and answer it in said Deities stead. That would allow her to project some of her power into the world, as well as her Herald.

The technique used the connection between Melina and her Consort, so unfortunately she could not just usurp anyone's prayer. She had to be patient, until either Damocles himself prayed or a Lunar Deity blessed him. But that was fine, time passed differently for her, after all. She spent it contemplating what Catharsis had told her.

Her Consort, the one she interacted with all this time, had been something akin to one of her projections. Not perfect, but enough for him to control it's actions and fight through it. However, the means by which he controlled the projection was limited, and once it reached the end of the 'story', his control was severed and the projection ceased to be.

In truth, she did not fully understand it. But that was fine, what she did understand was that the Consort that had aided her, fought so ardently in her name, was the same soul as the one that now dwelt on this world. Whether he thought the projection just a dream or something else, it did not matter.

Her consort had fought for her, for their... relationship, it was time for her to do the same.

Soon enough, as she trusted it would, the opportunity presented itself. A Lunar God was entertaining a prayer from her consort, a fortuitous twist of fate. Ranni now knew, fate favoured her immensely. Wasting no time, she projected as much power as she dared into the prayer, effortlessly usurping it and allowing her to form a vessel for herself on the worlds soil, connected to her main Divinity but not bringing with it her entire order.

The more power she wielded, the more her Order would take over this reality. That was why she needed her Herald, the ghost Melina. As they materialized together, she watched as her protected words reached the combatants, and her Consort once again took up their sword.

As her Miracle started to fade, she heard the word uttered by her Dear Consort, Eternal.

"Ranni?"

She turned to the ghost, her smug feeling vindicated by the sour look that greeted her in turn.