Work Text:
Malenia stood beneath Caelid’s crimson sky and observed the armies that lay before her.
There were her Cleanrot knights, of course; devoted warriors who had pledged their loyalty to her and Miquella in spite of the rot it had instilled in their flesh. They fanned out in a shallow triangle behind her, two diagonal walls of spear and sword ready to die for her cause. She felt a brief comfort as she saw Finlay ready her spear beside her.
On the opposite side of the great red desert was Radahn, a hulking mountain of flesh floating atop his trusty steed Leonard, two great blades of black metal engraved with a golden gravity crest. His armour gleamed in the harsh red sun, the metallic lion fur polished and pristine. Malenia doubted it would stay that way for long. His own army of Redmanes spread out behind him in ordered rows, wielding a variety of torches, greatswords and spears. There was even a couple of trebuchets placed on the back line.
It’d taken a great journey to reach this moment for both sides; Malenia’s forces had marched from the Haligtree for many weeks, putting down any who’d attempted to oppose them: The Lleyndel Knights, the Carians, those petty glintstone sorcerers at Raya Lucaria…Hell, she’d even made Godrick grovel for mercy after rumours of an idle insult had made their way to their camp in Limgrave. Forcing the ‘Lord of All Things Golden’ to literally lick her boots was a memory she still relished, even here at the precipice of battle.
The Starscourge was a much greater foe than Godrick, however. The Golden Order’s lion, the man who’d quite literally fought the stars to a standstill… he and his forces were to be a much greater threat.
Malenia had faith in her win brother’s judgement, however. His Age of Compassion needed a Lord, after all, and who better than one unwilling to give up their beloved horse?
Still, the prospect of defeating him was a daunting one. She thought of Miquella, awaiting her still at the foot of the Haligtree, his Empyrean flesh awaiting its chance to ascend. Her own flesh itched painfully, scarlet rot still writhing in her veins, awaiting a chance at relief. She prayed she wouldn’t need to make use of it now.
She breathed in briefly, steeling herself, and nodded to Finlay. It was time for battle to commence.
“My loyal warriors, we fight today for a new age. A thousand-year voyage, guided by compassion.”
She held her katana towards the sky.
“We are the Cleanrot knights, the blades of Miquella.
And we have never known defeat.”
She turned towards Radahn’s giant figure and pointed her katana towards him, her great rune burning brilliantly deep inside her. The rot writhed once more.
Radahn raised his sword to the sky and roared, great chunks of earth rising from the Earth as his forces charged forwards. Malenia’s own rose to meet them.
-----------------------
The battle felt almost endless, the once vibrant Lands Between now simply a blur of burning sky and red blood as Malenia whirled across the great skirmish. Her blade whirled in precise arcs of violence as she cut down more and more of the Redmanes, still barely making a dent in their overwhelming forces. She could hear the cries of her Cleanrot Knights fighting behind, their spears jabbing and thrusting and impaling their way through the enemy with clean, structured movements. They’d all prepared far too long to let losing even be an option.
The Redmanes were ferocious in return; what they lacked in technique, they made up for in sheer numbers and firepower. Ballistas fired huge bolts, skewering knight after and knight as huge explosives were launched from the colossal trebuchet, sending shockwaves across that landscape.
And then, of course, there was a Radahn himself. The great lion seemed to burn with fiery passion as his swords slammed into the sands, seeming to dent the very earth itself with enormous pulses of purple gravitational energy. Great meteors seemed to be pulled out of the sky itself, crushing enemies from all sides as Radahn unleashed his fury onto any enemy he could find.
Malenia marvelled at him as she fought. A worthy consort. Miquella chose well.
-----------------------
As the sun began to set over the burnt horizon, Malenia stood atop a hill of sand, blood and corpses and looked once more upon her foe.
Both of their forces were almost entirely dead now, their weapons nestled amid the dunes around them. Even Malenia’s arm had fallen to the sand beside her, her katana now digging into the rotten scales on her left hand. Radahn’s swords were stabbed into the ground in front of him. It seemed they’d met a brief peace.
“Blade of Miquella, was all these lives truly worth it for yet another fragmented Great Rune?”
Radahn’s voice was gravelly and deep, though filled with a strange sincerity Malenia struggled not to find admirable.
Melania took a moment to enjoy the moment of calm.
“I am simply honouring the vow made between you and my brother, long ago.”
She kept her tone assertive but not accusatory. They were far past insults.
Radahn barked a gentle laugh before raising his hands. The blades tore themselves out of the ground, scraping into one another as they flew into his grip once more. Malenia calmly grabbed her prosthetic and fixed it into its socket with a gentle click. She drew her sword behind her and readied herself for the final charge.
Their eyes locked once more, two warriors savouring the taste of battle.
Malenia moved first.
She flew towards his colossal form, aiming first to slice down his leg where a Cleanrot spear had now embedded itself. She ducked past an overhead swing, keeping close to his body and sliced cleanly once more. A mild grunt was her only reward.
Radahn wasn’t slow either, however; his swords blurred towards her in a vicious cross as Leonard drew backwards, trying to keep her at a comfortable distance. A volley of stone projectiles careened towards her as she tried to pile on the pressure, keeping her posture low as she sprinted once again towards his legs. Another cut, another brief spurt of blood, another reset as Radahn cut off more and more of her options with each sweep of his blades. The fight sank into a brutal tempo as Malenia tried to pile on more and more speed, dodging and weaving past his impassable wall of magic and black steel, earning only the tiniest of cuts as the Golden Lion threw back savage blows of his own she could only avoid by the narrowest of margins.
Once again, they drew back and faced each other, both panting and covered in the scars of battle. It was clear they were at an impasse. There would be no victor here today.
But victory wasn’t the goal Miquella had set.
All Malenia needed was Radahn dead.
And so, they went in for the final exchange.
She took in a small breath, drew her sword back and charged once again. She feinted the same left charge she’d begun the battle with. Radahn’s sword slammed down once again.
But, instead of dodging, Malenia let her prosthetic shatter within its socket, the pieces tumbling to the blood-soaked ground. With her left hand, she grasped her sword before it could fall. She’d need it for came next.
Radahn grunted with surprise as she leaped into the air, one foot vaulting off his gauntlet to launch herself onto his exposed neck. She plunged her blade downwards, practically falling on top of it as the hilt pierced her stomach. The stench of decay began to stir from her cursed flesh as she whispered into Radahn’s ear.
“Miquella awaits thee, O promised consort.”
A scarlet bloom blossomed across the Caelid landscape in a bright burst of rot as Malenia’s consciousness began to fade. A bittersweet smile flickered across her ruined face.
The vow would be fulfilled.
Miquella would have his lion.