Chapter 394: The Last Wish of the Living (Elden Ring/Soulsborne in general) by BlackHadou
Latest Update:April 15, 2022
Summary: The Lands Between. A fog covered land that predates the shattered world under the blessing of the Erdtree. The world is Shattered, and now the Close has come. Those before and after must pay the price for Paradise Broken.
Link: https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/the-last-wish-of-the-living-elden-ring-soulsborne-in-general.101457/
Word count:57k
Chapters:27
Prologue: Character creation.
Once upon a time, the falling leaves of gold whispered a story.
A great tale of the Elden Ring, shattered forevermore.
Rent and twain lay our home, the Lands Between hidden within the Fog.
Alas, our great Queen Marika the Eternal is nowhere to be found.
Lo, Godwyn the Golden, fallen among the Night of Black Knives, flesh cleaved and ripped.
And so Marika's offspring, demigods one and all, claimed the shards of Power that once was named Elden Ring.
The world collapsed at the Shattering, ripped apart by the strength once only held by Lords.
Madness taints their hands, and malice looses their fingers.
Now, a decade hence, the land struggling to heal, does the Close come.
A conclusion to the great War.
A conclusion to the Shattering.
A conclusion to the ever absent Great Will.
Arise.
Arise now.
You are…
Name: Ashe
Gender: Male
Race: Tarnished/Human/The Last Dragonkin
The hero of the story and betrothed to the witch, Ranni. A candidate for Elden Lord and one of many conspirators in the lead up to the Night of Black Knives, though his involvement in the event was fairly tangential. A knight of somewhat noble bearing who serves as Ranni's sword and shield, as well as the one person she trusts unconditionally.
While his goals mostly align with Ranni's, his own desires temper those goals in ways only a mortal could understand.
During his adventures in Liurnia, he was afflicted with Scarlet Rot alongside Miquella. After the battle in the Lake of Rot, he inherited the Remembrance and dreams of the Silent Soldiers of the Eternal City, becoming the Nightless Dragon who has reached the sky once more. As a result, his humanity is beginning to be called into question.
—————————-
Chapter 1:
".… arise…"
"... -se now…"
".. -e doth command thee…"
"... -ken, o' tar-…"
"... -rest… -ise…"
"OH WAKE UP!"
Eventually, the reverie of dreamless sleep was shattered. The world seemed almost to shimmer into existence, my mind slowly shaking off the fog of death, as my left hand lifted, grabbed the offending speaker, and pulled it against my chest.
"I COMMAND YOU, WAKE UP!"
"Five more minutes." I almost grinned. Almost.
"Ye art tarnished! Ye have slept almost a decade! Awaken! We command thee!" I almost chuckled at that. Wait, no, the sound escaped my throat. I did chuckle. My eyes slowly cracked open, and I was greeted with gray stone and an unfamiliar roof.
A mausoleum. A place for the honoured dead. Those who died with honour and were allowed to keep their dignity in death. Upon my chest was a tiny doll, barely larger then my fist twice over, it's small witches hat teetering on the brink of falling away after the offensive of my hand.
"I take it, then, that my dirt nap worked?" I was slow to sit up. The doll of the witch hopped to my lap as I did so, claiming a comfortable place on my thighs as it folded both sets of arms together. I remembered that pose. She had only done it once or twice before. Now she was doing it almost out of reflex.
"We believe so. Alas, the world hath begun to heal."
"And you still plan to go through with it?"
"The sickness doth need ripping free. Do ye not agree, mine consort?" I rolled my eyes at that. Of course I agreed. We were in this together, from beginning to end. It was to this end that we had plotted and planned and acted, after all.
"Then the ring can be made whole?"
"We art now sure of it. Mine father t'was not as thorough as feared." The witch confirmed with a nod, and with it, our hopes and dreams lived once more. The Shattering was a temporary thing. The time to act was now.
My lungs expanded, welcoming air within them. The witch doll on my lap just sighed, rolling her one left eye as she jumped from my body entirely. The right eye was lined with the centipede tattoo that was the Curse of Death. I could almost see a shadow of another face linked to her body, closed right eye of her doll to the left eye of her spirit.
It reminded me of our heresy. Our promise. My oath.
Until she had a body to call her own again, then I would not rest. Even if she had different ideas.
"Ye art tired." She noted. I yawned even as she said it, pulling myself from my little stone tomb. The days of tombs having their lids placed upon them seemed to be long gone. After all, the dead rose in this world.
O' Tarnished. Ye dead who yet live. The words of the great general, Radahn.
"Tell me of the world. What has changed?"
"Now ye art curious?"
"I've had a decade to sleep. A lot can change in a year, let alone ten." I chided. Of course, to Ranni, such a thing was a trifling. She was already over a century old. A decade was nothing to an immortal.
"Verily, we doth suppose so. Caelid hath become a staging ground. We believe that the days of peace art rapidly approaching their end." Ranni answered softly, watching from her perch on the side of my tomb as I started gathering my things. The dead were buried with honour. My armour had been put to rest with me, along with a small sword. "Radahn doth muster his men. Melania doth muster hers in return."
"Then the amber fields are about to become crimson." I mutter under my breath. "I suppose you were right then."
"We did not hear you." She absolutely did. She was just being smug about it.
"You were right. I shouldn't have doubted you knowing your own siblings." I grumbled, pulling my gauntlets and grieves on. "Help me with the chestplate?"
"We art a doll."
"You're a witch."
"... Very well." Ranni surrendered surprisingly quick on that one, pulling the straps on my back tight. "We believe ye shouldst know. Thy peoples hath turned to the arts left forgotten."
"My people as in humans, or Tarnished?"
"Humans. Tis the case of arms and legs being in thy vogue, as it were." I raised an eyebrow at that, flinging my waistcoat behind me with a flourish as I turned to face the fair lady.
"Arms and legs?"
"Tis a tendency of the noble. We believe t'was nephew many times Godrick the Golden who doth start it." Ranni answered softly. "Ye lookest appropriately noble, mine knight."
"Why thank you." It was nice to be complimented. I belted the pathetic thing that my burial guard must have thought was a sword to my side. It was then, while I was looking down, that I noticed it, still around Ranni's finger even in the form of a little doll. Upon her upper right arm, the ring I'd used to propose.
Technically, it was her ring.
"Ye art reminiscing. If ye hath time te do so, then ye have time to move." Ranni declared. I nodded, offering a hand and retrieving her doll form to my shoulder.
"Move to safety if we encounter anything." I noted. Ranni nodded beside my head.
"We shalt. Ye concern art appreciated, sir Ashe."
"You can drop the formality. You're making me nervous."
"Wouldst ye have us call upon thee as Tarnished?"
I just rolled my eyes.
The tomb of the honoured dead, as expected, was beneath a church. It did not take much effort to make my way back into what once would have been the chapel. The symbols of Marika were everywhere, statues crumbling into irrelevance after the upheaval of the first days of the Shattering. The rows of benches were covered in dust and the beginnings of rot. I could see clearly out of the hole in the roof.
This place had fallen into disuse and disrepair.
"Art ye surprised?" Ranni spoke as if reading my thoughts, as I walked down the central aisle. Once upon a time, this church would have been one of anticipation and marriage, of a better life beyond the beginning of a relationship and courtship. Now, it was decrepit and rotten.
"No. We knew the worship of Marika would end quite quickly after the last supper." I answered. "It was for this reason you had me killed, was it not?"
"..." Ranni did not answer. Even as a doll, I could see the little tells that bespoke guilt. If I was dead, I could not be used as a weapon. My nature as a Tarnished ensured that there would be no reprisal.
Just a corpse in the ground, doomed to obscurity. Except now I wasn't dead anymore. The curse of the Tarnished was useful in so very many ways. Indeed, I didn't consider it a curse at all.
The front doors opened to a view over a cliff. The waves crashed against rock, and in the distance, I could see the shore of Limgrave and, beyond, the castle over Stormhill, Stormveil Castle. Some considered it the bulwark of the Erdtree, the final line of defence before the Bellum Highway to Leyndell.
I knew better then that. Stormveil Castle was nothing but an expensive gift to a petulant child, showered upon a Demi-God who desired relevance beyond his decayed and diluted blood. The castle itself flew its banners, but they'd clearly seen better days in the twilight of the afternoon.
"Ye art not impressed."
"One would think the heraldry could use a replacement. Does Godrick not have a seamstress to hand?"
"We doth believe our many times nephew hath belief of no need of such. He art too concerned with advancing his art of the graft."
"His… what?"
"Tis distasteful, though we doth admit it art effective at slaying thy Tarnished." Ranni noted. "Tis the art of grafting thy body with limbs, not unlike yon trees. We doth believe Godrick's inspiration tis the Erdtree itself."
"... He's treating himself like a tree?" I repeated. "What a queer…"
"We do note he art not a mere piddling four and a half feet anymore." Ranni continued. I blinked.
"I'm sorry?"
"At last we saw, mine nephew yonder times removed tis about twelve or so feet tall." Ranni confirmed. I just stared into the distance, my mind trying to comprehend the very concept. How did one…
"He's using the flesh and blood of others to enhance his stature. I thought that was Mohg's idea."
"Tis been many moons since we doth hear hide or hair of Mohg. If we didst not know better, we wouldst believe him dead." Ranni retorted almost distastefully.
"Better? What did he do now?"
"For thy moment? Nothing. Tis the problem in and of itself. We doth believe he is too quiet."
"Then he schemes as we did." I muttered. "We need to stay ahead."
"Tis a momentary concern." Ranni was almost dismissive as I started to walk down the cliff. "Ye shouldst know thy path to Leyndell hath been shut."
"We expected that." I admitted. "Its the best way to ensure that there is no new Elden Lord." It also ensured no one could repair the Elden Ring. I had to wonder what the game Marika, if she was even alive, was playing? After all, it seemed to no ones benefit to leave the ring broken. That it might be repaired almost instantly was perhaps the greatest unknown of the plan.
The plan. Our all omniscient and knowing plan.
"We must admit, we hath struggled greatly in setting the stage. We wouldst prefer ye to do the lifting for a time." Ranni spoke up. I rolled my eyes.
"As you command, m'lady."
"We doth not appreciate yon sass, Ashe."
"Noted." The front of the chapel, its steps, its murals, were all faded and crumbling. It was an almost shocking state of disrepair for something that was only a few years abandoned. "What happened here?" I finally asked. "There's no way this is from age."
"Tis not. Godrick doth raid thine tomb for bodies."
"And I wasn't among what he took?"
"Ye mayest thank mine in kind later." I blinked again at that, as I walked into the main courtyard. The foliage was overgrowing. Flowers and grass far too large, and the statue of Marika was crumbling. The face had been ripped away entirely.
My sixth sense was firing off. I was in danger.
"You feel that?"
"We do. We believeth ye hath been left a present." Ranni noted cheekily. I just groaned. Of course she thought that.
I could hear it before I saw it. It crawled around the arch of the courtyard, one hand, two hands, three, four, five, six, far too many. Feet joined them, as a face slowly twisted around the side of the arch like a demented puppet or marionette in a play.
It's form was hidden by a cloak, but I could see enough to understand I was looking at an unnatural monster. It could no longer be called a human being. It was certainly no elf or dwarf or omen or any other creature I could name.
It was simply wrong.
"It seeks food." I noted. It's skin was sickly white, and I could see something that passed for saliva dripping from what passed for its face. In a lot of ways, it was merely a blob of entirely too many limbs.
"Ye art sure?"
"All living things need to eat. Monstrosities aren't an exception." It's eyes fell on me. It was in that moment I realised it was most certainly deaf. It saw, but it did not hear. It's nose, or whatever that thing was, sniffed the air loudly, and then the swords came forth.
One, two, three, four, entirely too many swords.
"Hark, it thinks." I declared, my hand falling to my shortsword. Ranni just snickered from my shoulder. "You might want to get back."
"We art safe. This, we believe." Ranni retorted. I just rolled my eyes. The monster, certain of its target, let out a shriek, one that did not come from any natural creature on this world that I knew of. Then it lunged, scuttling on entirely too many limbs.
I flicked my right wrist upwards, and before me, the ground erupted in ice, great spires that tore flesh and rendered the beast screeching in pain.
"I was expecting it to be smarter." I admitted. It seemed almost confused at the new situation, at least two arms ripped away. Its sense of pain was unusual, for it had already forgotten that the ice had harmed it, its gaze going to its lost limbs.
And then…
"We wonder. Ye didst keep up thy studies." Ranni's voice distracted me from the act of self-cannibalism the beast was committing, as she offered a tiny doll hand forward, a teardrop forming within it. "We believe ye shouldst be armed with thy weapon, no?"
"That would be appreciated." I answered dryly, lifting my right hand to take the tear. The monster had begun to move again, as my sword ripped through the air, forming in a single ray of transient moonlight. It was almost weightless in my hand, a comfort I'd almost forgotten. "Ranni. Down."
"We art safe."
"From it, yes. Not me."
"... Very well." Ranni acquiesced, leaping from my shoulder and seeking shelter a short ways behind me. The beast before me hesitated for a moment. I could feel the fear oozing from its form. I twisted my sword into a more comfortable grip.
"Hark, beast. Scream to the night and embrace the cold of death!" I cried. The monster decided that I was trying to spook it and lunged in what was probably an attempt to display dominance. My sword swung to meet it.
Its swords, ornamental and made of tarnished and corrupt steel, cracked, froze, and shattered under the weight of my swing. I cleaved into its side, light forming along the edge of my blade, as I jammed it into the mass.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Each stab caused the air to chill, ice exploding from the beasts form. Shards ripped flesh apart, blood barely existent and looking more like water then blood. Whatever this thing was, it barely was alive.
I took the hilt of my blade in both hands and wrenched it free. The mess of a corpse collapsed. I could see the hole clear through it that I'd cleaved and the many smaller holes formed from the ice I'd made within it.
"We question if ye needed te go so far. Tis well and truly dead." Ranni noted. I just shrugged, flicking my sword one last time and severing its head. Just to be sure.
"Tarnished exist. The dead don't always stay dead." I answered, lowering a hand for her to clamber up as I started walking again, my guiding moonlight resting on my other shoulder. I could smell salt on the air. It was almost overpowering.
The corpse of the monster could remain. It was a warning to any Tarnished who followed after me. Stay out of my way.
"Ye believeth such a monster couldst become Tarnished? We doth shudder at the thought." Ranni quipped. I just groaned.
"You're going to tell me they can't?"
"Grafting doth remove the possibility of Grace. Ye shouldst not fear such." Ranni answered. "We believe it doth not possible."
"So you say." I muttered, walking the rope bridge to the dock, or at least, what once would have been the dock. I grit my teeth. Of course, the path down had collapsed.
"We see ye art at an impasse." Ranni noted. "We wonder, doth ye remember how to swim?"
"... I hate you sometimes." She must have known, too. I could see something over at the docks, if I could make my way down, but…
[ ] Swim to the shore. Hopefully the fish weren't too big.
[ ] Try to take a boat. If any of those rotten lumps of wood worked.
[ ] Make an ice bridge. Hopefully there weren't any octopus.
Link: https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/the-last-wish-of-the-living-elden-ring-soulsborne-in-general.101457/
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone