THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND WHILE READING THIS FIC (in order of importance):

1) This story happened because, the first time I played Dark Souls, I made my avatar me, and I would never extinguish the Flame even if I talked to Kaathe, but I wanted the Dark Lord trophy. So, I decided to make a second playthrough with an avatar modeled after my beloved, who would never sacrifice himself even if he didn't talk to Kaathe. The idea for this whole story came around when I started up the game, and so I wrote it as I played. Literally, I had my laptop open beside me while I played Dark Souls, writing down everything that happened - this is essentially a written in-character Let's Play. As a result, there are a LOT of deaths, and a lot of struggle, I left nothing out.
-Parts where the character "lies down and goes to sleep" are the times I saved and quit the game to do other things, and "tripping" is code for "accidentally pressing the wrong button". Occasionally, I use him stopping to "consider something" or "catch his breath" as an excuse for why things happened over time without him doing anything, when the real cause was me typing what just happened while the game was still running. And of course (SPOILER ALERT), the absurdity of the way he finds Kaathe is glossed over but still absurd, I know, but it's just how it actually happened - I was determined to meet the Darkstalker in this playthrough, but it wasn't so easy, so I had to keep milking the excuse for why he didn't go to Frampt with the Lordvessel.

2) This story wasn't originally meant to be shared with fans of Dark Souls - I was going to show it only to the person about whom it was written (if anyone at all), and I don't know if he's ever played Dark Souls. Therefore, descriptions are often used in place of names, and everything is described - a lot of the bulk of this story is describing things in the game with or without naming them. You may get bored; a possibly fun game to play is to see if you know what I'm talking about when you read a description.

3) The thing about "me" being in the fire and guiding him is meant to reflect that I already kind of know where to go in the game and when, and explain the protagonist knowing those things already and going through the game with that knowledge, since I couldn't play for the first time a second time. That particular plot device does, however, take on a much more important role in the story in the end, one hinted at throughout the whole tale.

4) This story was written during a rough time in both our lives, our individual troubles keeping us apart; so, some of this story explores how I think of him, and possibly how I misthink of him, and how he may think/misthink of me (instances of him referring to me as an idiot are not examples of this, that's me being honest) - that is, it somewhat explores our relationship and personalities in the real world. That could be a good thing or a bad thing, but my point is that the main characters are modeled after real people, and that may be something worth keeping in mind one way or another.
-If there are moments where his thoughts seem oddly and incongruously cold or mean or selfish and also shoehorned-in, that's because they are - I sometimes went out of my way to try to make him less kind, since selfishness isn't something I comprehend very well, and his outlook on life complements mine by essentially being everything mine is not (this specific thing is discussed at one or two points late in the story). Keep in mind also that I was still the one playing, and doing irreversible evil things wasn't something I was going to do just because I was playing as someone else, so I sometimes felt I had to make up excuses for him doing the same thing I'd do in certain situations.
-If anyone has been around since I first signed onto this site, you'll know that "Aiedale the Wanderer" is a familiar name - specifically, it's the name of the protagonist of the first fic I ever posted; I kind of flipped when I saw that "wanderer" was an actual Dark Souls class. It's basically my in-game avatar name for any game where I'm not playing as a particular person. As for his name, "Deimos", after which this fic is titled, the real-world person is a young musician, and he gave himself the stage name Deimos after the Martian moon; there's another musician Deimos (or more than one, even) who aren't him, he's only made one EP so far ("Ghosts"), but in an alternate world, it's the best name I could give him, as both that name and mine actually have deep and meaningful backstories. His class, meanwhile - knight - has no significance.

6) When I wrote this, I knew next to nothing about Dark Souls 2, and had only seen the name "Icarus Earth" when browsing the Wiki for information relating to the first game; I know the ending doesn't align with the actual story of Dark Souls 2, but it's the ending I wrote.

Lastly, and actually MOST importantly, know that it was the amount of work I put into this labor of love that made me decide to share it; at the end of the day, it is a labor of love, not so much the kind of artwork from within myself that I usually write. Please take it for what it is.

The curse of the Undead. I sit alone in this cell in the Northern Undead Asylum and reflect on the marking branded into my withered skin. Why have I not yet lost my mind? I look Hollow, I know I do…why am I not?

She wasn't either. My love, Aiedale…her hair blacker than the darkest night, her eyes green as new leaves in the spring, her face gentle and kind…what a beautiful thing she and I shared in life - she, an aimless Wanderer, and I, a lowly Knight. Our souls were two halves of something greater; we were even branded with the Darksign at the same moment, while we were together. But she's gone now…she left this place, presumably hoping to change something about this dying world. I think she even succeeded in doing something, yet nothing has changed - she and I were so close, I felt echoes of what she was feeling throughout her journey, but those have stopped now, the last one having been triumph.

I sigh, wondering why I still bother to breathe in this stinking, decrepit place. My sole comfort is the pendant I carry with me always, a gift she gave me long ago - a reminder of a happier time, when we were alive, together in Astora. Even if she no longer walks this world, she lives on in my heart…

A sound from above startles me from my thoughts. There is a small skylight that lets a few weak rays of sun into my dank cell, and before I can do much more than blink, a corpse comes tumbling through it, landing on the floor in a heap. I look up; a knight with a helmet that hides his face looks down at me and nods, then walks away.

Confused, I approach the body that was tossed to me. It's holding a key. It can't be…the key to my cell door? With nothing else to do, I pry the piece of metal from cold, dead hands, and try it. The door opens.

I step out into the dark stone corridor, wondering why, how, who? As I walk along, I see Hollowed Undead, too far gone to even notice my presence. All I have for a weapon is the hilt of an old sword, yet I take the time to put them out of their misery. I feel a bit of strengthening essence flow into me with each one that falls - souls, the stuff is called, I know. I follow the corridors that leave me with only one path, sometimes wading through stagnant water, climb up a ladder in what seems like a well, and come to a courtyard.

My eyes take a moment to adjust to the light, and then I see a sword stuck in a pile of ash that is heaped upon the snowy ground. I feel drawn to it, and as I reach out my armor-covered hand to touch it, a flame kindles. This…this is safety - I can feel it, this fire is life and refuge. My love found such bonfires during her journey, bits of memories flit through my mind. She is in the fire. I sit down to rest, in the closest thing to her embrace I will ever know again, and feel a wave of soothing heat flow over me. Funny how I didn't notice how cold I was here until I found fire.

Refreshed, I stand again. In front of me is a pair of heavy wooden doors, and to the right I notice a small rusted gate. I think I can open the doors, but I try the gate first; unfortunately, the lock is on the other side, and it won't open. That done, I approach the set of wooden doors. They're heavy, but I do manage to push them apart; they lead to an enclosed courtyard, crumbling and oddly full of empty urns. I notice a small doorway marked by torches on the left-hand wall, and another set of doors across the courtyard, these made of metal. Those doors look strong and heavy, and are probably the way out of here, and therefore locked; I don't bother trying them, and head for the other path.

I'm barely two-thirds of the way there when an enormous, grotesque monster drops out of the sky. Lumps of either muscle or fat bulge all over its scaly body, horns curl around its head, and its two stubby legs end in clawed feet, its hands clutching a length of wood. I take one look at it and know it's far too powerful for me to fight with what I have, so I run, evading its tremendous club and leaping through the door.

A rusted gate slams behind me. I'm back in a dark, dank, partially-flooded corridor. There's another pile of ash and a sword here on a small section of floor high enough to be dry, somehow, and again, it lights at my touch. I sit down to catch my breath, and the one or two injuries that demon gave me are wiped away; I then stand again, fully healed and ready to go on.

Wading through the stinking water and taking stairs to a doorway that leads out, I come to a hallway with its ceiling gone - daylight again. From the other end, a Hollow shoots arrows at me; I avoid them by hurrying into an open, empty cell to my left. Here, I find a corpse holding a metal shield that's no worse for the wear; I take it, ignoring the stink of wet rotting flesh, hardly believing my luck. With this, I'm able to block the Hollow's arrows as I walk towards it. The Hollow flees, and as I continue on, I stumble across another corpse, this one holding a simple broadsword that's also in perfectly usable condition.

With a true sword and shield, I feel much more prepared to face this world of Undead. I catch up to the Hollow that was shooting at me and kill it easily, then climb some stairs to a doorway walled off by a bright white light. The shining, solid fog is sort of blocking my way, but I feel like I can step through it if I take it slowly; I do, and it vanishes behind me.

I find myself standing on a crumbling balcony overlooking the courtyard in which the first bonfire still burns. To my left is a dead end and stairs far too crumbled to traverse, but to my right are two staircases that are serviceable. I take the one that goes down first, and find the same gate I investigated earlier; as I suspected, the lock is easily undone from this side. Opening it, I now have a shortcut back the way I came. Next, I try climbing the staircase that leads up, but I barely get halfway when an enormous boulder comes rolling down and slams into me, knocking me back to the bottom. I stand up, bruised and battered but not as grievously injured as I would be were I not Undead and fully armored, and run up the stairs to find the culprit; it's another Hollow, one who falls easily. Behind it is a gate, but the gate is locked.

Stymied, I turn around, and suddenly notice one of the walls is smashed open. It takes me a minute to realize the boulder must have broken it down. Curious, I step through the opening. It's another cell, narrower than mine had been and just as damp…and a short ways away, lying on a pile of debris in the sole patch of daylight that filters in through the crumbling ceiling, is an Undead in armor.

I approach him. He looks similar to the knight who gave me the key to my cell, but I can't be sure, as the armor isn't an uncommon style. He doesn't move as I approach, but when I draw near, he speaks.

"Oh, you," he says, and his tone tells me that he is indeed the one who rescued me. "You're no Hollow, eh? Thank goodness…" His voice weakens. "I'm done for, I'm afraid," he rasps. "I'll die soon, then lose my sanity…I wish to ask something of you…You and I, we're both Undead…Hear me out, will you?"

I nod. "You rescued me," I reply, "it's the least I can do. Yes, I'll hear you out."

He sighs. "Regrettably, I have failed in my mission," he tells me. "But perhaps you can keep the torch lit…There is an old saying in my family…Thou who art Undead, art chosen…In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of Ancient Lords…When thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening, the fate of the Undead thou shalt know…" He sighs again. "Well, now you know…And I can die with hope in my heart," he says with finality. Then, abruptly, he adds, "Oh, one more thing…Here, take this."

He hands me a dull green flask, filled with golden light. Another flicker crosses my mind: This, too, is life.

"An Estus Flask, an Undead favorite," the knight tells me. "Oh, and this…" He gives me a key. Then he leans back on his deathbed of bricks and says, "Now I must bid farewell…I would hate to harm you after death…So, go now…And thank you…"

I nod to him. "Thank you," I tell him. Then I turn and leave, sparing him no second thought; I've done all that I can for him, and there's no point wasting time on sentimentality.

So now I have a key. I remember the locked gate at the top of the stairs down which the boulder rolled, and I head back up to see if this key unlocks it; it does. A smooth yet claustrophobic stone corridor leads to an oustide balcony littered with bricks that have crumbled from the ramparts and ceiling. Up here, I breathe the freshest air I've experienced in a very long time, but I only have a few moments to relish it; around a corner to my left, two Hollows with broken swords come running, another Hollow with a bow standing back behind them to fire at me. They fall quickly before my sword. Once I reach and kill the bow-wielding Hollow, there is another wall of white light blocking a doorway to my left, and a small open door directly in front of me. The wall of light makes me a bit wary, so I go forward first.

The doorway leads into another empty stone room. To my left, on the far end, is a Hollow soldier, this one with armor and a sword and shield. It runs at me, shield up, sword ready. I block it, then feel a sudden urge to try parrying it now that I'm properly equipped - I am a knight, after all, I can do better than just swing a weapon wildly, though she made do. I fail a couple of times and get a few stab wounds in reward, but then I knock it off-balance and plunge my sword through its chest. Blood sprays everywhere, and I get it off my sword by planting my boot on its torso and pushing. It falls. A swig from my new Estus Flask heals my injuries.

Now there's nothing here but another gate. I try the gate, but this one is locked, and neither of the keys in my possession open it. The wall of white light I passed earlier is my only route to take.

I return to it and pass through it. This time, it doesn't disappear behind me, and I find myself on a narrow ledge overlooking the enclosed courtyard. The monstrosity that assaulted me is still there, directly below me; now I have a shield and sword, I feel I'm ready to face it. I jump down sword-first, plunging my blade into its forehead; demon blood sprays, as I yank my sword out and jump to the ground. It is badly injured, but far from defeated.

There's nowhere to run now, so I fight. Its club is heavy and merciless, smashing pillars I dart past and knocking me down with shockwaves if not direct hits. The Estus Flask saves me. After a little while, I realize I need to dodge into its bloated, scaly form, and keep close, as its club doesn't hurt me when I'm near it unless it takes the time to aim it at me. I am injured, restored by Estus, and injured again, but I keep swinging at the monster with my sword.

Finally, with a tremendous roar, it disintegrates. I'm left with a large key, and this, I know, opens the heavy metal doors I've not yet passed through. I'm also left with a tiny black sprite, which I've heard of, and know is called Humanity; I absorb its essence right away. I then walk over, unlock the doors, and heave them open; I find myself standing on a snowy mountain ledge mostly made of crumbled stone ruins, graves dotting the ground.

She took this same journey, I know she did. A couple of fingers on my pendant, I walk forward to the edge of the outcropping, the bracing mountain air filling my withered lungs; when an enormous raven swoops down from the sky and catches me in its claws, I am not afraid. I know it will take me to Lordran.