Chapter Text
In all of the Crestfallen's time spent waiting around in that godforsaken shrine he had came to see many undead come and go. Motivated by a prophecy that speaks of ringing both bells of awakening, those many undead threw themselves into danger. But finally after all of this time one of the undead has achieved the task that he abandoned hope of completing. It gave the man a fleeting sense of fulfillment knowing that at the very least an undead he personally guided was the one that rang the bells, even if they were not the first by a wide margin.
Celebrations were certainly in order. That undead completed a monumental task.
and I need to leave
A long sigh pursued the thought. He knew there was nothing left that would keep him from prolonging the process of hollowing. All that was left for him was a trip down to the ruins and an eternity hollow, however dull that ending would be. At least it was fitting for a man who gave up all hope and just sat around giving guidance to more stalwart warriors. Perhaps that undead would go down to the ruins and relieve him of his corporeal form, give him his final rest.
A slight smile crosses the Crestfallen's face. He thought of the time they first arrived, running by him into the graveyard. He was shocked for a short while till that undead came back through the bonfire, looking more hollowed but wielding a massive sword. A sword that they could barely hold let alone swing. They looked impressive even for the slightest moment, impressive before they threw the sword to the side and finally spoke to the Crestfallen.
Another time the undead had gotten cursed by god knows what. After the Crestfallen had imparted knowledge of remedician down in New Londo Ruins they had left for what seemed a day. The Crestfallen couldn't forget how they looked when they returned, armor somehow tattered and cracked in several places despite being used to fight ghosts. The Crestfallen had to stifle a laugh so as to not be rude to their plight.
Hearing footsteps coming down to the shrine the Crestfallen shifted back into a slumped position to play the role a final time. He watched the undead run around what seemed to be the entirety of the shrine, talking to everyone and buying some things in the process until they stopped at the bonfire. Without a single word the undead sprinted past him into the graveyard. He could've sworn that they stared at him for the slightest amount of time during the passing, a nearly imperceptible spreading sorrow on their face.
However brief the wordless exchange between the two was, the Crestfallen was still taken aback. A flurry of thoughts swam through his head.
Why did they make that face?
Why express that face to me?
Why did they not talk?
But no definite conclusion could be made for any of them. Even when knowing he couldn't find any possible reason for that fleeting display of emotion, the notion of it happening kept gnawing at his mind. A gnawing that kept him stuck in position, not thinking of his lack of purpose and impending hollowing but rather the peculiar undead he had guided. He needed to have his last words with this undead, no matter how long it took.