The Unending Cycle: Chosen

It was the same. Every time she ran into the Kiln to slay the Lord of Cinder, she was always given the choice to re-light the flame or to become the dark lord of the world. It didn't matter what choice she made, she always ended up in the same place. That cursed undead asylum, the place she felt like she was born from. No matter how much she cried out for change it never came for her. The first few times the cycle tried to erase her memories clean of ever having been through it all. But she slowly began to peace it together with each cycle, realising how many times she must have done the same thing over and over again. She started to become self-aware of her situation and even tried explaining what she went through with the others she found. She spoke of this with the Queen of Pyromancy. She felt it, but didn't show it. She knew what was happening but to not spread a gap within their timeline, she denied it all and even shooed the chosen away. It was a cycle that rang through the Chosen's mind, never leaving its small corner.

She remembered the first time she came to from this broken reality, her hands were cupped together holding the Fair Ladies hands in her own. A sudden rush of memories of the Chosen slaying the Fair Lady flashed and she began to scream, the memory frightened her. At first she swept it aside and made no note of it, but it began to progress more into her mind.

The memory of slaying the weakened maiden and holding her keeper down while puncturing each egg the servant carried on his back. The memory was over-whelming and all she could do was scream and throw her things around. The Chaos servant didn't understand what was wrong and so he did what he always did with the other servants. Left them alone. The screaming lasted for 5 minutes before she got somewhat a hold of herself. In-between the sobs and flurry of "sorry's" she threw towards The Fair Lady, she began that this must have happened a long time ago, during another life-time. This newfound memory of her doing the unspeakable was extremely overwhelming.

During what she thought was her twelfth cycle; she sat there in Firelink Shrine thinking upon her past actions, upon the feelings she felt during those times and what she could remember as to why she did them. She remembered all the merciless killing, all the screaming, fighting, and dying. All the times she died, a number count she wouldn't dare touching upon. She knew not of what she would do with herself, what she could do to change this cycle. She attempted to leave this forsaken land before but always found herself back into this forsaken plain. Perhaps she could wait it out, wait until she does nothing until the cycle forces her to do something. Wait until the Abyss she released in New Londo to swallow up the entire land of Lordran, wait until the cycle is forced to end and start anew. She could until the end, until the cycle no longer needs her and finds a new chosen. She could wait until she has nothing left but dusty flesh and brittle bones.

She could wait. Forever.

Something I have been meaning to write for awhile now. I hope it is satisfactory.