Lordran- A Memory Long Since Dead

A young knight sat in the warmth of Firelink Shrine, taking a well-deserved break from his quest, though it did not leave his thoughts for a moment. He leaned back onto the soft grass and gazed longingly at the brilliant sun above him. Oh how he yearned to be so gloriously incandescent. He closed his eyes, and attempted to rest. A whisper escaped under his breath.

"Praise the sun"

His nap was soon interrupted when another undead called his name.

"Solaire," the voice dripped with anger. The warrior of the sun sat up and turned to the source, seeing his friend Rourke holding a maiden dressed in a stunning white gown. He carried her with vigor yet care, as if the woman were made of glass. His face however, was burning with all emotions relating to uncontrolled fury.

"Comfort her," he ordered, placing the woman on the ground beside Astoran. The paladin stared into the eyes of the damsel, his heart hurting for her. "Pray for me, my dear Reah, and no matter what you may hear do not listen."

The priestess nodded, closed her eyes, and covered her ears. Silent words formed at her lips. Solaire watched as his comrade threw off his helmet and walked toward the crumbling stone ruins behind them. Uncertain what he should do, the remaining knight pulled the nun close to him. She leaned her head on his armored chest, her body deathly still.

He was the Angel of Death armed with a fist of rage. With every step the ground seemed to tremble as if it too feared his wrath. The only thought that circled his mind was a name; 'Petrus,' and as he approached his target the voice grew louder until his brain was screaming the word to him.

"Oh, it's yuh-" the cleric began, but was interrupted by the hand now wrapped around his throat.

"How… dare…you!" the holy knight brought the man of Thorolund close, his grip tightening.

"I don't-"

"You will bleed for what you have done!" Rourke threw the man to the ground.

The accused tried his best to crawl away on his stomach, but was stopped cold when the paladin pressed his boot to the man's ear.

"What possessed you to do it?" his words venom, "Gold? Souls? Or did you want to pluck the petals of the defenseless flower?"

"I'm sorry, I- I-" the cleric sniveled.

"No!" he yelled "Not yet, you're not!"

The paladin reached down, grabbed his victim's arm and moved his boot between the bastard's shoulder blades. He pulled with all his might, until he ripped the appendage clean from its socket.

Earthen Peak

Lucatiel shivered as a chill darted up her spine. Her companion lowered his eyes in shame. She couldn't fault the man for speaking as he did… she had asked about his past and now that he has given some insight into it, she almost wished she hadn't. She had thought how he had come to meet Yuria was somewhat romantic, though she had little firsthand experience with such a thing. This, however, brought an entirely new side of the paladin into light.

"I never claimed to be perfect…" he said softly, and gave an uneasy chuckle.

The Mirran rested a hand on her friend's shoulder in an attempt to console him. She had never known her companion to have such a wrath, then again in light of recent discoveries, she assumed there was quite a lot about him she had yet to learn.

"The Legion always had a strict moral code concerning the Frail" he said, "and I suppose my own temper did not mix well with those who did not share the same values."

"What are 'the Frail'?" the swordswoman asked.

Rourke shifted his position by the bonfire they sat at, and stared into his claymore, as if trying to remember something.

"Women, children, the elderly, or men who were not hard enough for the Legion" he stroked his chin, "The Frail were people we were sworn to protect with our lives"

Lucatiel crossed her arms and made a noise of annoyance, causing the knight to look up at her. Her face was something between a playful pout and genuine irritation. The paladin raised an eyebrow and asked what was wrong.

"I hope you don't group all women in with the Frail" she stated with a huff, to which her friend laughed. The knightess's expression softened.

"I assure you, my friend, you are all but Frail" he said, still chuckling.

The pair waited a while longer before continuing on into the poisonous terrain ahead of them. After a few hours, and a pile of bodies, they reached the base of a large windmill. They continued inside, undeterred by the ghastly mutant creatures that attempted to block their path. Rourke paused for a moment looking at the body of one of their fallen adversaries, a desert sorceress.

"Do these women not seem out of place?" he asked his companion.

"How so? They attack us like any other undead, what is different about them?"

"Well, their skin is smooth, it's completely unblemished, no scars or even burns. They seem completely unaffected by the poison around them,"

"Perhaps with the next group you could flirt them to death" His companion joked.

"My dear Lucatiel, jealousy does not suit you," he responded with a grin "regardless, there is something…alluring about them… something familiar…"

The warriors slowly worked their way around the tower, dismissing a few foes here and there as they proceeded. The knightess stared at her friend, ever since he had stopped to examine those women he began to act strange. His steps were jagged and he would occasionally place his hand to his helmet, even his attacks were much less precise than normal. They pair came across a bonfire to stop and rest for a moment. As they approached it the paladin stopped abruptly, and placed his hand against the wall to steady himself. He removed his helmet and clutched the side of his head. His breath was shaky and shallow, his arms grew heavy, the man felt exhausted and on the verge of passing out.

"Darling…" a familiar voice called to him, and he jolted at the sound.

"Where…?" he asked to the air, looking around.

"Come to me…" The knight staggered into the direction he thought was correct, leaving Lucatiel behind.

"It- It can't be…" he murmured.

He entered a room finding a hooded woman standing alone, her skin was pale and what little hair escaped the red headdress was a shimmering brown. She reached out with one hand, beckoning to him. He dropped his weapon and shield as he drew closer. The mysterious woman traced her fingers along his jaw then cupped his face in both palms. He nuzzled into the touch and breathed in her sweet aroma. The pain in his head subsided and a wave of peace washed over the man.

"R- Reah, my Love, how…? I- I thought…"

"Hush, Darling… Does it matter? I'm here now…"

The man pulled his wife into a gentle embrace, tears streamed down his face. He shuddered in her arms as she attempted to calm him.

"I've been so lost without you," he whimpered "I didn't know-"

She pressed a finger against his lips to quiet him. He slowly lowered her hood, unleashing her cascading brown locks.

"There is someone here who would like to speak with you" she pointed to a figure standing in the shadows.

Rourke turned, and instinctively positioned himself in front of his wife to defend her. His stance faltered when the figure removed their red hood and revealed their identity.

"Yuria…?" His voice broke into a sob as she ran to him.

"Yes, my Beloved, it is I…" the paladin dropped to his knees, no longer having the strength to hold himself up. The pair stepped closer to him, a brilliant smile was shared between them. The women cradled their husband's head in their arms. He placed an arm around each waist and brought them close to his form, not knowing what to say or how to act. He was sure they had died so very long ago, but here they were, the only people he cared for. He could protect them again and this time he will not fail. No one else mattered to him anymore. No one…

The holy knight looked up when he felt something warm drip onto his head. To his horror, a sword had pierced his Reah's chest. Her body fell into his arms, and he tried to stop the bleeding but she was gone. His breath ceased, he couldn't move, and an eternity passed before he came to his senses.

"No!" he cried.

The paladin vision blurred and turned red. He bared his teeth like a wild animal as he drew his dagger and searched for the murderer, shocked to find the blood stained blade in the hands of Lucatiel. He clenched his fist, and took a step forward to the woman.

"You!" he roared, "How could you? She was my wife!"

"What? That thing isn't-" she started. 'What is he thinking? Something is wrong…' she thought.

"She murdered your darling Reah, my Beloved, make her suffer…" Yuria whispered in his ear.

"Stay behind me, Yuria" he called back without taking his eyes off of Lucatiel.

"Connor, believe me I-" the knightess tried. 'What is the matter with him? Why is he defending that thing?'

"Silence, whore!" he interrupted.

"What are you waiting for, Dear? Kill her, she deserves it for what she's done,"

The swordswoman recoiled at the insult, wounded by the man's outburst. Whatever was going on, her comrade had to be influenced by some kind of magic, most likely from that thing behind him. She glanced at the creature her friend had called 'Yuria', and she quickly recognized its garb. It was a desert sorceress, this had to be their true form. The woman only resembled a human from the neck down, her scaly head was that of a serpent complete with long pointed fangs and beady yellow eyes. The beast truly was disgusting, how could her companion mistake this thing for his former love?

"You're being deceived, Connor," she said quietly, knowing the truth will crush him. "That is not Yuria…"

"Keep my wife's name off of your tongue," he spat. "I thought we were friends! How could you do this to me?!"

Lucatiel lowered her eyes and raised her blade, "I do not wish to fight you, my friend, but I must free you from this monster,"

With a guttural roar the paladin charged the Mirran, slashing the dagger wildly at her. She dodged quickly, her speed easily surpassing her comrade's, all the while trying her best to not land any lethal blows. Rourke, blinded by rage, had lost all form and control in his movements. She had to find some way to bring him to reason, but how? With a clash of steel, and the knightess came to the conclusion that this battle could not last much longer, if it did one of them would die. They separated and a thought crossed her mind, the knightess dropped her sword. She recognized the beast now, but she had never heard of them residing anywhere outside of the sea. She couldn't force her friend back into reality, she had to make him remember no matter how hard it would be for him. She had to break this spell with a different approach than violence. She had to show him...

"I know you're hurting, but this," she gestured to the woman Rourke defended "is an illusion, you yourself said that… Yuria… died in your arms, remember?"

The paladin stumbled, his eyes wide in shock, but his scowl quickly returned. "You know nothing! She is here, can you not see?"

"No… I'm sorry but I don't" she whispered, "You are being lied to by these witches, that woman is a siren, and she is using you, Connor… please"

Lucatiel stepped closer, her hands raised in surrender.

"I- I don't…"

"You told me that Yuria hated death after the Demon Crisis, she turned away from dark magicks and violence… Why would such a kind woman with such a great respect for life demand you kill me?"

"I…" tears rolled down his face, his mind twisted by what he wanted to see and what he needed to hear.

The woman took another step, she now stood directly in front of him. She took a deep breath and waited for him to continue, but when he remained silent Lucatiel laced her arms around his chest and embraced him. Rourke placed a hand on her head. His mind deep in the past. The knightess cursed herself, she hated doing this to him, but she hated how much she enjoyed this feeling of closeness to the paladin. 'What is wrong with you? He's in mourning, and this specific wound had been reopened quite horribly…' She had to remain strong, but she could feel her eyes well up.

"Child birth…" he muttered, "Yuria died… trying to bear our son…"

The paladin looked down, meeting the teary eyes of the Mirran woman he had come to care for. His mind spun with a thousand different thoughts all trying to focus on what happened a forever ago. He held the swordswoman tighter, in a silent means of thanks and affection.

"I remember now…" he continued, "I- you're right, Lucatiel, but…" the knight turned to stare at the woman he wanted so badly to truly be his Yuria. The knightess released him and he walked over to the other woman.

"She is lying to you, Darling, I swear! I am-" Connor placed his hand on her cheek, and gazed longingly into the beautiful jade eyes he remembered so clearly.

"Yuria, Baby, I-" his voice choked up as he pulled her body close "I love you… so- so very much… and I always will… Please, do not forget that…"

Before the woman could respond a sharp pain pierced her chest. She looked down to see the paladin's dagger in her heart.

The knight's eyes fell, he produced his canvas talisman, and stared into it. He pulled the string holding the tiny pouch closed, and poured the contents into his palm. Two small rings glimmered in his hands. He clutched them close to his chest and whispered a short prayer, begging his Lord for strength.

Well it's been... too long in the making. Here is Chapter 4. I lost motivation for this story for quite some time DS3 really killed this series for me. I intend to finish this story but it may take a while. (Hopefully not this long again lol)

Thank you for your patience and reading my story!

-Josh