Chapter Text
At the foot of the Erdtree
“Long have I awaited…”
Amber eyes creaked slowly as she tried to focus on the smooth timbre of a woman.
“For mine fruits to grow strong. Strong enough to survive a fall. Strong enough to survive a shattering…”
She felt a warm and gentle hand caress her soft reddish hair as if one would do for a child. Glancing up with a blurry vision, the woman’s face was cloaked in shadow, and a halo of light surrounded her form like a golden veil.
“Willing enough to throw oneself into ruin…”
Her body was light like floating in the sky. She attempts to calm the roaring beats of her heart against her ribcage by taking deep breaths, but it fails. She attempted to open her mouth, but no words came out.
“Grow strong, in the face of adversaries and let thy kindling flourish into a brilliant fire.”
Path to the Forbidden Lands
She jolted upwards violently as if waking from a nightmare. Cold sweat dampened her forehead, and hair uncomfortably clung to her skin. Clutching her throbbing head, the pain drilled into her skull like a thin, hot blade, and she tried to stand. That woman…who was she? Darkness greeted her as she scanned her immediate surroundings. More importantly, where was she?
A cold front assaulted her small figure, and dressed in a thin, white set made for travelers, she grasped in the dark, for any warmth to hold on to. Stumbling into the void, she bumped against a chair and her hands caught a satin-like material draped on its back. Throwing it on, the cloth did nothing for her frigid body. She needed to find more, but soon, a hard frame of a door barred her. Having her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, she shook the knob, forcing all her strength into her arms, and pulled.
“Cut it out, girl!” The gravelly and irritated voice of a man echoed on the other side.
“Let me out.” Surprisingly, her panic subsided as her tone evened out.
“Sorry, I have my orders.” She squinted as he approached with a torch on hand, and the light made his ghastly shadow seem that of a troll.
“Orders from whom?” Questioned the girl but was ignored.
“Get away from the door, Lass, and don’t try nothing funny.” Startled with the loud thumping that echoed in the chamber, the girl stepped back whilst a man dressed in dirty blue garbs swung open the ominous mouth of her confinement. She noticed how wary he was with every slight movement she would make as he made his way to a lone standing candelabra in the corner. It almost seemed like he was… frightened.
Testing the waters, she moved one step forward, and he urgently unsheathed an ivory dagger that seemed familiar to her. “I told you not to do anything funny, didn’t I, girl!!!”
“My apologies. I just want to know where I am.” Although he was the armed one, she was confident she could disarm him easily with his meager stature and fumbling hands. The guard walked back towards the exit, locking his eyes on her until he could lock the door.
“Pipe down!” She saw the man sit down through the iron bars of the door.
“Why can’t you tell me?” The girl challenged, but the guard gave no answer, and she expected it. She huddled near the stained glass window at the back of the room and breathed out. “I will get out and find someone who can give me answers.” Her words were loud and clear. An audible gulp was heard from the man, and she nodded in contentment, hoping her words of warning hung at the edge of his mind.
Only the coming and going of the sentry made her aware of the days passing while he brought morsels for her to eat. She counted at least 20 cycles of the never-changing routine. At every turn, he struck down any sort of conversation she would try to make, but she did not relent.
“Sir, are you there?” She clicked her tongue and plopped down on a desk, passing the time with a book she gathered from a shelf. Frustration compounded because the words on the page were gibberish like someone had purposely rearranged the letters on every single word to spite her. She threw the book in a random direction. Torrent would be able to read this to her if he was here.
She blinked in confusion upon recalling the name. Who was Torrent? Was he a…friend? “Yes, that sounds right.” Picking up the pieces of her fractured memories, she managed to recollect a location called the Roundtable Hold, where Torrent is waiting for her, although where this Hold was located remained a mystery. Surely, the guard would know, but he has not been receptive to her needling.
“Sir, where is the Roundtable Hold?”
“Sir?” Light snoring could be heard from the other side. She had enough of this silence. With all her might, she banged incessantly on the door until she heard him being rousing from the noise.
The man nearly fell out of his seat. “Stop it, girl. Do you hear me?” She chucked a book at the door and continued the cacophony of sounds until she heard the click of the lock. Grumbling a complaint, he knocked from the outside, before fully entering. “What is the meaning of this?” She was recalcitrant to his command, compelling him to cautiously walked into the room and brandished the dagger Her Majesty had given to him upon his appointment to the girl.
“He-hey!” It was empty. Where was she? "Come…come out now.” There was nowhere to hide and no hole to escape, so how did she disappear? Now, the disconcerting advice of the Queen to never let the girl out of his sight rang clear as day. Her Majesty made it seem like the lass was a dangerous brigand, but she was just a lost, young maiden.
Turning around, he yelped when the door slammed behind him, and a cold breeze blew out the candle. His teeth chattered, and whether it was from the fear or the temperature, he felt cornered in the cage like prey. Upon approach, golden wolf-like irises glowed in the dark, causing him to shriek in terror. It vanished, and perhaps it was a trick of the blackness.
Then, he felt pressure around his neck, and he was suddenly paralyzed. “Please…“ Don’t kill me, he pleaded in his head, but no words would fall out as his lungs started to burn from oxygen deprivation.
An arm was coiled around his neck, like a snake devouring its food, and she carefully let go when he went limp and unconscious. “Forgive me.” She muttered under her breath. Towing him to his post, the white-bladed dagger fell from his person, and as the hilt touched her palm, it felt right. “I’ll borrow this, sir. I hope you don’t mind.” As always, no reply, and she has grown used to the deafening silence as a response.
Trudging out the door, she walked along the platform where a chilling draft hit her arm, and she followed it, but it was swiftly cut short, and the tenebrous sea of black below bid their usual hello. There was no way up, but every day, she would detect a low rumbling towards this direction. Something beneath here must be her way out. Without hesitation, she leaped, and fortunately, her fall wasn’t too long. However, the ground sank as if pressing on a pressure plate, and it moved upwards towards the light for what seemed like an eternity. A cascade of doubt and worry filled her heart. “It’s fine. I’m out.” She tried to reassure herself.
Flinching at the abrupt influx of radiant light that leaked everywhere, she half-closed her eyes momentarily and simply chased the smell of smoke and earth and the sounds of metal clanking and hooves on stone. She widened her eyeballs, and it still stung from bathing in a box that was vacuous of light, but she quickly adapted. Craning up her neck, an enormous glowing tree stood before her with branches that encompassed the sky, and the heat from its golden rays brought some comfort after sleeping in the cold for many days. She stopped at a bridge where people clad in golden armor were patrolling.
“Is someone there?”
Upon hearing a gruff and deep voice, she immediately crouched and hid behind the closest pillar. On instinct, she slammed on her hood and slowed her breathing. A wary voice of a soldier made his presence known. “Who’s there?” The head of an armored horse was the first to accost her vision, and then its rider, donned in a golden set, wearing a helmet that had the likeness of the giant tree resting in the background jutting at the top. Not knowing if she would win this fight since this man might be more skilled than her, she nevertheless lifted her weapon out of its scabbard, but he made no move to apprehend her. Instead, he heaved out a sigh. “Must have been the wind. I need sleep.” He yawned and resumed his route.
The young maiden poked her head to inspect what just happened. Locating her courage, she walked out and noticed that they couldn’t see her. She walked beside a roaming Knight, but besides their horse giving her a slight acknowledgment, he was none the wiser.
Was it her shroud? It was a rather odd cloak and was not an ideal source of heat, but can it conceal her figure, almost like a ghost? She’ll test her theory later, but for now, she’d rather not play with her luck.
Royal Capital City of Leyndell - Central Ramparts
After wandering around an area teeming with stuffy soldiers, she finally reached the inner portions of this golden city, where the sights, sounds, and smells all blended into one beautiful array of laughing people and playing children. It was a busy intersection with vendors shouting out prices, people window shopping, and appreciating their time out. The soldiers were also laxer and mingled with the citizenry, but she couldn’t let her guard down.
“Lord Miquella is in town. Did you see him?” The chatter of the common folk was loud and boisterous.
“I hope I get to meet him. I need his blessing.”
“He wouldn’t bless you!”
Amidst the cheer, winged creatures carried boxes and pulled carts for well-dressed patrons in the foreground, and she felt pity for them. They appeared miserable, and while ambling passed them, she helped a poor creature whose cart became snagged onto loose rocks. The beast sniffed at the air, detecting the scent of earth and ash, and grunted as if reaching for a “thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She mumbled and left it to its own devices.
Gliding through the crowd once more, people felt a nudge here and there from an unknown source, but thought nothing of it. The sooner she was out of here, the better, but her stomach betrayed her while passing through a store with pastries and bread displayed from the inside. The smell of food wafted to her nostrils, inducing a loud growl from her stomach.
A boy with golden hair exited the shop, and he was accompanied by a towering redheaded woman wearing a braid on her back.
The lass stood close enough to the child that she could steal a loaf sticking out from his satchel, but before she could enact her plan, the redhead encircled a hand atop the girl’s head and hummed.
“What is it, Malenia?”
“There’s something here, Brother, but I can’t see it.” The woman called Malenia had a tight grip on her cranium, and she froze, never expecting someone to sense her while she was unseen.
“What do you mean, Sister?” Malenia clawed at the bundle of velvety cloth touching her palm and flitted it away. The girl’s invisible protection was broken, and she was staring at the face of a crimson giantess who slanted her eyes threateningly. Feeling like a mouse who woke up a bear during hibernation, the girl tried to slink away, but Malenia caught her wrist. “I see. A pickpocket, are we?”
The maiden’s growling stomach was the first to answer. “Easy, my sister.” The lad wore an amicable smile and imparted a sugary knot-like bread to her.
“Brother, do you know how long it took us to receive this batch?” Whispered Malenia, but it was hardly spoken in a hushed tone.
Her brother chuckled at the exasperation of his twin’s voice. “Fret not, Malenia. I am giving out my share.”
Taken aback by such kindness, she didn’t accept it at first, fearing that perhaps the item could have been tampered with. “Go on, My Lady.” Hunger struck hard as she bit through the soft dough, and a sound of satisfaction emanated out. “Delicious, yes? It’s a hassle getting through an order, but they’re worth it every time.”
“I hope you realize, dear Miquella, that I’m not sharing my piece.” Warned his sister weakly, because she knew that in the end, she would give him some if he began to pout. That earned her another jovial laugh from her sibling.
“Are you new in town, My Lady? I haven’t seen you before, and I rarely forget a pretty face.” She blinked when she realized the short boy with golden locks was referring to her. With cheeks full of bread, she couldn’t verbally respond, so she nodded. “I see. I am Miquella, and this is my sister, Malenia.”
His other half sighed in irritation. “Pretty face, Miquella? Are you really reading the drivel Praetor Rykard lent you?”
“Did it sound flirtatious?” He bowed in apology. “I didn’t mean to offend you, My Lady.” Miquella inspected the girl while she finished off the last bites of the delectable treat and knew she required more substance than what he could currently furnish. “What is your name?”
She pondered on the question, and it never occurred to her to even wonder if she owned one. Surely, she had a name. Miquella frowned. That furrowed brow of hers signaled that his simple query was a loaded one. “I…don’t remember. I can’t remember who I am.” Breaking eye contact, she gazed down at the dirt below and stepped back.
Her feelings of loss were palpable enough to touch, and Miquella let it go. “Never you mind, then. I’m sure it’ll come back to you.”
“I’m not sure how.”
“What is lost can always be found, no matter how long it takes.” She stared down at the youth and his rather round, boyish face, and bright eyes as blue as a clear sky. She thoughtfully nodded at his optimism.
“Brother…” Malenia pulled on her twin’s arm, bringing him aside to consult. “Let us leave this person be.” She pleaded with her brother, but she recognized that determined look of his.
Miquella patted her arm with affection. “We would be remiss if we did not help someone who was lost.”
“Must we always rescue every stray we encounter?” His simple reply of “yes,” was all she needed.
“Miquella, was it?” The girl uttered his name, interrupting their quiet banter. “I just need to know where I am, and where I can find the Roundtable Hold?” Her voice was concise and unwavering.
Her “straight to the point” attitude was quite refreshing, so he imparted an answer of equal measure. “You are at the Royal Capital City of Leyndell and where the Roundtable Hold is stationed.” He gave a knowing smile to his sister, and she sighed in defeat, realizing what their objective was. “We can show you if you’d like?”
“I don’t want to impose.”
Malenia was the first to speak. “I must insist, otherwise, Miquella here would lose sleep if we didn’t care for a stray in need.”
“Sister, don’t call her a stray.” The crimson-haired woman lightly chuckled in amusement over his slight indignation.
“Shall we, My Lady? We can give you a grand tour while we’re at it!” He led the way at the front, as they sauntered across a stone cobbled street paved with gold that stretched as far as the eye can see. Rooftops, archways, doors, and even the plant life had gold embedded in them, glinting against the yellow rays radiating from the tree.
The nameless maiden felt too exposed being out in the open, especially when a certain redhead hovered over her shoulder like a big cat stalking through tall grass waiting to strike. Ignoring the woman, for now, she examined the boy at the front and how people of all shapes and sizes showered him with compliments and friendly salutations, addressing him casually like they were all old friends. “Lord Miquella, we’ve missed you!” One waved from the balcony of his dwelling and another carried her babe in hopes to be blessed by her lordship.
“M’Lord!” A rather distressed-looking man approached Miquella and almost tripped as he ran toward him. Kneeling down, he held his smaller hands. “M’Lord, tell me you have news.”
“Pertaining to what, good sir?” Miquella kept his cool facade but somewhat disliked the breach of his personal space.
“The sinner. The one who attempted the first cardinal sin! Tell me your Lord Father has caught the cretin.” The girl listened in while Miquella quelled the man’s fears, stating that the “perpetrator” will not escape judgment. “Bless you, my lord. The Erdtree is a symbol of hope for all. The mere thought of hurting our golden faith is blasphemous.” The young lord strained out a weak smile and bowed politely at the man.
“I will certainly bring better tidings next we meet, sir.” More “blessings,” and “glory to the Order” was spat out from the man, but his fears were allayed enough to let go of the boy.
The girl’s gaze trailed at the departing man and then to the Erdtree, the lavish, auric timber which seemingly reached the heavens above. “Cardinal sin?”
“Hmm, yes, My Lady. I am assuming you aren’t aware.” She shook her head, telling him that she had only recently awakened. Puzzled by what she meant, Miquella brushed it aside for now and explained that nearly a moon ago, someone had attempted to burn the Erdtree. “It was only a brief moment, but for those few seconds, flames erupted from the top of the branches. However, the fire soon waned away, as if it never occurred. Those who had witnessed it took it as a sign of bad omen.” Bitterness arched his lips.
“Burning the Erdtree?“ Her flesh suddenly felt hot, causing a pained grimace.
“What’s wrong?” Miquella asked.
“Something is…burning.”
He sniffed the breeze. “I don’t smell anything.” She held her right arm, lightly patting it down to quell something he couldn’t fathom. Briefly, the hems of her sleeves rode up, and he saw odd reddened splotches akin to burn marks planted on her skin. Not questioning it further, a golden light shone from his hand, and he shared it with her, dulling the irritation. “At any rate, pay that man no mind. Leyndell is filled with superstitious folks like him.”
They resumed their peaceful amble through the streets, and Miquella spoke about the Roundtable Hold and how it was the gathering place of champions. He gave a history lesson about the colosseum behind the Hold and how it used to attract interesting individuals from all over the Lands Between and beyond the fog, but now it has since been shut down by the current Elden Lord, King Consort Radagon. She didn’t know what an “Elden Lord” was, but she could surmise that their words hold weight in the ongoings of the city.
“What about that statue of the winged beast?” The girl questioned, wondering why there was such a strange figure in the middle of the city.
“That is no statue, but remnants of the war where Leyndell’s walls were breached the first and only time by ferocious ancient dragons. That was their leader, Gransax, but through the might and bravery of Lord Godwyn the Golden, he defended the Capital and even befriended one of the invaders, or so I was told.” A distant roar could be heard across the skies as if reacting to Miquella’s story. “That must be Fortissax flying around somewhere. Lord Radagon has told his master he can’t fly around the Capital anymore.”
The girl blinked in disbelief. “An actual dragon?”
“Yes! You’ll see him.” Nearing their destination, Miquella abruptly stopped dead in his tracks, and she heedlessly bumped into the smaller lord. The sounds of clamor and loud orders from a certain dragon rider reverberated in the wind. Suffocating static was stuck in the atmosphere as faint streaks of red lightning gathered in the ground like spiked traps hoping to clench its teeth into flesh. They were close to the Roundtable hold and while it can get rowdy, there was a sense of urgency, as if something had been discovered. An agitated noise of a horse became more apparent and when the fortified manor was in view, Capital soldiers circled around one horse with horns, holding its reins tightly. The furry grayed stallion shook them off and made a furious call. An imposing, armored blonde man with long, flowing hair took over the reins, and shushed the steed, electrifying the leather with a touch.
"Lass, where art thou?” The girl focused on the steed and recognized a familiar, rich voice. “Let me go!”
“Torrent?” The horse was Torrent and that man was hurting him. Before she could bolt to assist her friend, Miquella shot out an arm and ceased her reckless maneuver. “What are you doing? Torrent is why I needed to go to the Roundtable Hold.”
“A moment, please.” Thinking back on it, during a dinner with his father a fortnight ago, he mentioned a soldier witnessing a horned horse with a cloaked rider leaving the site near the mountaintops, after flames erupted from the Erdtree. Father was rather miffed that the “sinner” wasn’t caught yet, and included Godwyn the Golden to assist with the hunt. What odd timing that a horned horse would now be found and associated with this nameless woman with no recollection of her past. Even if she had no link to the "wrongdoer", the Order would swiftly hammer down a severe sentence without any proof if he allowed her to run ahead. It could be a mere coincidence or fate cautioning him to act. “Stay hidden and out of sight. I will get your friend.”
The girl grabbed his shoulder and objected. “I’m coming with you, Miquella.”
He placed a hand on top of hers, linking his eyes with her own. A glow arose from his palms, and the action soothed her as a cool, sweet aroma hugged her form, like a newborn swaddled in a blanket. “I know we just met, but please trust me, My Lady.”
Her jaw clenched at the mere thought of staying behind, yet, the tautness of her shoulders slackened when he asked her to trust him. There was an abnormal, but wonderful smell that she couldn’t shake off, and it banished the unrest growing within her. It made her feel more…compliant.
“Fine.” She agreed although it didn’t seem like it was entirely her decision.
Once the young noble was satisfied with her response, he motioned his head towards Malenia, and she acknowledged it.
“Brother, what are you thinking of?” She asked when out of earshot from their stray.
“Our new friend might be connected to the perpetrator who committed the cardinal sin.” He spoke low, almost muted to the point that possibly she was hearing things, but that wasn’t the case. She was visualizing it, the line they were about to cross to make her brother’s world a reality. Was this the moment he was waiting for?
“Just our luck. It isn’t even our birthday yet.” Sarcasm bled from the woman's tone. Her prosthetic sword arm twitched with anticipation, readying her bladed hand for a fight. “I’ve always wanted to battle Lord Godwyn.”
The edges of his lips arched down in disapproval. “Malenia, we want to settle this as quietly as possible.” The pair sauntered towards the gate of the Hold, and Miquella equipped an unassuming grin with Malenia at the helm, as his blade and protector. If possible, he would truly prefer to avoid a clash with a scion from the Golden Lineage. The thought of incurring more pain on his sister troubled him.
“Lord Godwyn!” A customary smile became clear on the young lord’s face upon making his way towards the son of Lord Godfrey, the First Elden Lord.
Godwyn dropped his stern demeanor, affectionately lifting Miquella up from the pavement, and brought him to a tight embrace. “Miquella! How art thee, little brother!” Seeing Malenia closely behind, he settled the younger lord down, and clapped a strong hand onto the redhead’s shoulder, abstaining from hugging her this time around. He preferred his limbs intact, after all. “Thou art here to join the hunt? Behold the sight of this sinful beast.” Torrent bucked and neighed in distress, breathing heavily when he felt another jolt of lightning coursing through his body.
“How many horses hath horns as fine as these?” The face of the Golden Order lightly slapped the horse’s nose and rested his forehead on the animal’s, intimidating poor Torrent. “Enough of thy noise. Where is thy master? Trifle not with me, beast.”
“Lord Godwyn, I think you are hurting him.” If Godwyn didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn there was aggravation in his half-brother’s tone. His smaller hand brushed the side of Torrent’s ear, and washed him in yellow light, decreasing the steed’s jitteriness.
“Thou’st heard of a horned steed departing the Giant’s Forge? ‘Tis no coincidence I wouldst discover one so near the lands forbidden to us all. Shalt we use this creature as bait? Its master resteth close, I am sure.” Godwyn tried to grab the reins from Miquella’s grip, but he refused.
“My horse will not be used as bait.” Taken aback, Godwyn cleared his throat, interpreting the seriousness in the other lord’s expression. “I had just bought him, Godwyn, and I was told to meet the seller here.” An aroma as sweet as a blooming flower drifted to the golden scion, and he shook his head, wondering why his mind was suddenly foggy.
“Purchased? What manner art thou speaking of?” His loud voice boomed like thunder striking the ground.
“From a trader a few days ago. Claus was his name, right Malenia?”
“Hmm, I think it was Claude, Brother.” She played along, noticing Godwyn’s confusion.
“Claude! Yes, that was it! He said something about the horse being dropped to him in such a hurry. The good sir was very keen on making a sale.” He brought Torrent closer to Malenia, where she took over the reins, preventing Godwyn from seizing the straps again. “Are you telling me that this horse is part of the conspiracy?”
“Listen, Miquella, I…” He breathed out and slapped himself as sparks of red lightning discharged from the simple hit. The soldiers at his command suddenly broke off from the formation and walked in front of Miquella, as if they were using their bodies to shield him. “What art you all…” He staggered, lightheadedness suddenly swinging at him like a spiked mace.
“Lord Godwyn, are you feeling well?” Miquella innocently asked, parting the sea of soldiers who came to his side and rested a hand on his older brother’s arm.
"Yes!” The skies above him rumbled and the clouds grayed ominously, housing packets of volatile bolts cracking through its chamber. Another roar could be heard beyond it, but the ancient creature remained hidden. “Miquella, thou’st procured this beast from a trader? Where is he now?”
“A wandering trader. I will look into more if you so wish, My Lord.” With conviction, Miquella carried a more heartened tone, confident that his tale was being bought.
“I…I wouldst greatly appreciate it, little brother.” The cloudiness of his mind continued to persist, and a sweet stench was pervading his senses. “There canst not be a great number of horned colts out there, therefore, this creature stuck out.” He massaged his forehead. “Thou art a collector of horses, Miquella?”
“ A collector?” The question landed an idea in the little prince. Both his parents had been attempting to summon a certain lunar princess to Leyndell for some time, but she had been ignoring them. His lord father had given the great mission for Godwyn to personally bestow the invitation to her, adding to the golden scion’s growing responsibilities. Snatching the opportunity to mention the princess, perhaps he could exploit this moment, and insert her into the narrative. She has a role to play in this, after all, as one who would defy the Golden Order. “No, but he is a gift to the Lunar Princess.”
“The Lunar Princess? Art thou wooing her?”
Miquella coughed in embarrassment. “Godwyn, she’s our sister.”
“And?” He shrugged the comment off. “She is a fine woman, Miquella.”
Malenia kept her placid exterior, but she could detect that her other half was planning something to involve the Lunar Princess in this. Miquella has kept a sort of correspondence with the Carian royalty, and through it, her brother managed to eke out from the stubborn princess that she was anything but loyal to the Order. Gathering allies was always at the forefront of his mind, and Ranni might be an indispensable one. She watched as her twin’s beet red face dwindled down to a pale shade. “I’d like to further deepen our friendship. She is fond of animals, and in particular, horses.”
Godwyn laughed. “Thy words say that, but thou need’st not deceive me. Thou art a man, Miquella! Seize the moment!”
While the direction of this conversation was an unexpected one, it seemed to have put Godwyn in better spirits, redirecting his concentration from Torrent. “If you say so, Lord Brother.” Miquella winced at the mere suggestion of “wooing” the princess. The nature of their awkward friendship was improving, but his and Malenia’s existence was a continued remembrance of a betrayal perpetrated by their father. “At any rate, since I will be visiting Caria, I can bring that missive to her. Lord Radagon ordered you to deliver it, yes?”
Godwyn’s head was starting to clear up and he frowned at the proposition, but it would allow him to focus his energy on other tasks. Dealing with that Carian witch wasn’t an ordeal he was excited about anyways, no matter how lovely she appeared. “All right, two birds, one stone.” An envelope sealed with the symbol of the Erdtree was imparted to Miquella. “Her Highness is a bit of a prickly one, cold as ice. I bid thee good tidings in thine dealings with her.”
“Thank you, My Lor-”
Godwyn grabbed the younger lord and placed his enormous palms on his head. “Liurnia is chilly. Bringeth thy warmest clothes.” Then, he goes on about how Fortissax dislikes the frigid environment, locking Miquella into a conversation.
“Is that so, Lord Godwyn…” Young Miquella trailed off while he tuned out a long-winded tale about the moment Fortissax flew to the Mountains grumbling about the weather and the lack of food to eat, making the ancient creature seem more like a whining child than a powerful dragon. He was about to react until he caught Malenia in his periphery wobbling to the side and used Torrent as a crutch to steady her footing. The horse was smart enough to lean into the redhead as if aware of her agony.
“Malenia?” Sensing his twin’s dolor, he clutched her hand and kept her from teetering.
“I-I’m fine...” The Demi-Goddess gritted her teeth and bit her inner cheek, nearly drawing blood. Not now, she clamored to the Rot that was gnawing and boiling her blood.
“Malenia, you are not fine.” Two Leyndell Knights hesitated while holding onto their Ladyship’s arm. One was worried she might collapse right on the spot, and the other about the Rot they were sure to suffer.
With their hands interconnected, a warm glow engulfed her being, dulling the torment riding her. “My Lord Brother, shall we finish this another time? Malenia needs her rest. We can have dinner tomorrow or any time you wish.”
Godwyn politely bowed, perceiving the urgency of the situation. Malenia was never one to exhibit signs of weakness, not since she was a babe, but her “curse” has caused vulnerability in such a strong-willed woman, and the reason why Miquella was very protective of her. “Please, take care Lady Malenia. I await with bated breath when next we meet, my dear siblings.” He shouted an order to his men to escort the twins back to their home, but his little brother declined.
“Art thou certain?”
“Yes, let’s not make a fanfare of it, My Lord.” Miquella lowered his head in respect. “I will speak to my father about this issue. If this horse is connected to the sinner, we will discover the truth.” These words of reassurance were all Godwyn needed to be sure his little brother was on their side.
Malenia hunched down and her twin cradled the small part of her back to offer balance and heat. They walked to the clearing near an elegant fountain, and a nearby archway was guarded by a horned Crucible Knight, a remnant from the era of Godfrey. They stood in attention upon the twin’s approach.
Straightening her back, the red-headed Empyrean cracked her neck and retreated from her brother’s warmth. “It’s calmer, Brother. It has subsided.” She sat at the stony bench shaded by a tree and allowed Miquella to administer a new needle into her arm.
“Your needle has proven quite effective in abating the symptoms.” Relief washed over him at the good news. His sister was a priority, and given that the Golden Order could not provide any relief to her pain, he must pursue other unconventional alternatives. His unalloyed gold was his own invention to combat the influence of outer beings who inserted themselves in all facets of life in The Lands Between. The Rot, in particular, dwelled within her and continued its onslaught to the point that it had already eaten one of her limbs. It was the other reason why Liurnia was also in his sights if the rumors of a buried God of Rot deep below her were to be believed.
His blue eyes became fixated with the unalloyed prosthetic latched into his sister’s shoulders and balled his fist. She was his other half, and he would do anything to free her from this wretched affliction.
“Let me know if anything changes, my sister.” Torrent, their newly founded horse, nudged the redhead’s arm. “Ah, Torrent, we have not forgotten about you. Rest assured, you will be seeing an old friend soon. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Miquella.” On cue, the voice of the nameless woman manifested to his left. “Is your sister well?” Concern was laced in her words, and while it was off-putting hearing a voice without seeing its host, he appreciated the worry nonetheless.
“Yes, Malenia is the strongest warrior I know. She will be fine.” The comment felt more of a comfort for himself rather than a boastful declaration.
She couldn’t confirm his words, she noted how Malenia held herself with pride, and the strength in each weighted step. However, there was another that resided in her, a ravenous monster that roared for more. She could hear it, begging to bloom. “More…hear..."
"Lass?” Torrent’s gruff timbre made her jump, jolting her out of the trance. He nudged the location where he recognized a friendly voice. “ 'Tis truly thee?”
“Torrent? Yes, it is me, in a way…” She sighed. How could there be a “me” when there was nothing to reflect about the person she was before?
Miquella patted Torrent’s head. “My Lady, I’m sorry to say, but we can all get reacquainted somewhere more secluded.” He said it calmly.
“Lead the way then, Miquella.” Whether she had a choice or not, she must follow this lord for now.
She had nowhere else to go.