Chapter XXIII:

The Forgotten Archtree

The Unkindled Ash stood amongst the other hollows, observing their pitiful existences. Like weeds slipping through gravel, they sat prostrated among the red flowers growing out of ashen soil, scattered like ants in the battlefield of the Cindered Soul. In the shadow of the eclipse, the Unkindled stood alone, the weight of his actions laid bare. He turned round and round, seeing the masses, the creatures without will, without life, without ambition.

He needed to see if what the Flame told him was true. He would follow through with what comes next, to see if indeed, the church would discard him as soon as they had the flame. Yuria and the other lady in black stood up.

"Well done, Lord of Hollows. We have finally done it. Kaathe would be proud, were he still alive. Now there is much work to be done, come hither" Yuria beckoned with a graceful gesture.

The Ashen One approached and she took his hand, her cold touch somehow piercing their armour. His every instinct told him to pull his hand back, but he relented. If he turned now, would this all be for naught?

Surely, Yuria had the best intentions for him.

Before, he would say that she always had; she had never betrayed him once in the past. She had taught him how to fight, how to survive, and how to hate the Fire for this meagre existence.

She never made him do anything he did not wish to do.

Everything along this path, he did willingly- right?

He wanted this- whatever this was- just as much as the rest of the church.

They walked up the path, and as they did, the legions of undead rose. The way their cracking bones snaped into the dead air was unnerving but could not be helped. They finally reached the top of the stairs where the path arched and dipped down into where a bonfire awaited.

A circle of pilgrims stood around the bonfire, muttering miracles onto the coiled sword.

"Where are we going?" he inquired in a serious voice.

Yuria's nameless compatriot made a small murmur.

"Worry not, my Lord. With your power, we will wake up a creation long thought forgotten" she whispered.

The words did nothing to comfort the Unkindled. He stepped into the circle and the Pilgrims began to chant words louder. The bonfire's flame turned a dark purple and the coiled blame lost all fiery heat.

Instead, it felt dreadfully cold, like somehow the fire itself was sucking his own heat.

"Place your hand over the pyre, Lord of Hollows" Yuria commanded.

The Ashen One paused, fearful that this may spell his own doom. He convinced himself, that despite his feelings, this was something he must follow through. He extended his hand over the bonfire as he had done many times before, and in an instant, felt the pull of another fire- somewhere far, far away buried beneath the mountains of ash and dust.

He could not recognize where this flame was, but somehow, he was able to traverse to it without ever being there. Where were these ancient pilgrims taking him? Was this a trap?

He closed his eyes and let the pull take him there, feeling a wave of energy crash over him like a cool waterfall. He opened his eyes up and he was no longer in the Kiln. He was still surrounded by the pilgrims, Yuria, and her confidant; but now they were in complete darkness.

It was almost as if they were standing on darkness itself, the floor completely obscured.

He took a step forward, feeling a cool liquid underneath him. He looked down and saw the frightening thick mass that enveloped his foot. Somehow, even in the darkness, the liquid appeared to outmatch the airy jet that enveloped the walls. The longer he peered into it, he immediately recognized it as abyssal corruption.

He immediately recoiled back before touching the bottom, terrified of the ocean of black that stretched out into the darkness.

"Where are we!? What is this place!?" he called out in horror to anyone who would answer.

This pool would surely kill him, as it would any other undead. Despite his outward shrill, Yuria let out a short, cool laugh.

"This is what remains of the great library of Courland" Yuria expressed, "A long time ago, the protector of this bonfire died, and once the world collapsed this entire city was lost to time and the abyss. All that remains now, is the darkness that birthed us, a darkness that through our own efforts has endowed us the right to conquer it".

"Do not be afraid, the abyss cannot harm you… anymore. Take a step and see" the unfamiliar lady in black dared with confidence.

Timidly, the Unkindled retook the step.

The darkness of the floor crept onto him, and again the urge to flee gripped him. He stood in the darkness, feeling the black pool pull him down, but soon his foot hit something solid.

As soon as his feet settled, the black ocean began to part for him, revealing that he was stepping on a pile of burned books.

It was as if the liquid were purposefully avoiding his presence now that he was among it, it continued to part until the whole floor of the library could be seen. The pilgrims and the others quickly followed behind him, and the Ashen One took out a torch from his bottomless box. He lit it, exposing the overturned bookshelves and the ornate architecture that had not seen light for millenniums.

"Come, follow me. I have been here before; I know where to go" the other lady in black announced as she took the lead.

The group traversed the darkness until a bright light could be seen in the distance. The white light danced on the stone walls of the library. It was an altar of sorts, housing an orb of curiosity no bigger than a carriage.

"Ah, there it is. I cannot believe it is still here. I thought I would never see it again. Praise the Sable Church!" one of the pilgrims cooed with excitement.

The Ashen One peered at the object spewing the lights into the air. The orb's exterior was a golden ring, dazzling the floor around with golden rays. It was floating on its own, with no apparent construct keeping the orb above the ground. The Unkindled peered into the orb and was taken aback by what lay inside.

Inside the circle of gold lay the what could only be described as swirling cosmos. Stars and glowing lights danced in circles, endlessly spinning round, and round. One could not look directly into the lights, or your eyes would burn with an intensity never felt before. Around these mysteries of light, was a darkness, a coldness that frosted the vision with the same intensity as the light.

There were no words that could describe the vividness of the anomaly, as the universe of possibilities contained within eluded the Ashen One's thoughts. His eyes stared into the spaces in between, and his mind went black; for what the orb parted onto him the very mind could not make sense of.

It was as if every synapse in his brain was firing all at once, and every possible recollection in memory came to the forefront of his mind. Every fight, every breath he had ever taken, recollected every second he existed. His senses slipped deeper into the spell of the orb and he heard a high shrill of an undiscernible weep that intrigued him and filled his core with fright.

His fixation of the core was anything but pleasant, and yet to deny its teaching would be sacrilegious.

"What is it?" he breathed, daring not to look away.

"Avert your eyes!" Yuria hissed.

She grabbed him and turned his head away, shielding his eyes. In an instant, he was broken free by whatever spell the orb had casted on him. He quickly recovered and moved away, careful to only look at the dazzling lights cast on the walls by the orb.

He blinked a few times before shaking his head; a splitting headache was all he gained from peering into the object's temptations.

The other lady in black let out stern scowl.

"Fool!" she spit, "Never peer into a transposing kiln! Especially this kiln! You could have lost your mind!" she hissed underneath her mask.

Her outburst filled the Unkindled with childish guilt, but something else about her chastisement concerned him.

Her voice was just like the one in Aldrich's memory, the voice which had manipulated him into consuming some concoction which transformed him from man into a gluttonous monstrosity.

"It's fine, dear Sybil. He did not know" Yuria responded for him in a cold demeanor.

Yuria led the Unkindled away from the orb towards one of the few upstanding bookshelves. She gathered stone from the rubble and placed them in a circle, mimicking a bonfire. She retrieved a long, coiled sword and placed it in the center.

Was this how all bonfires were made? He thought only a Fire Keeper could create them.

"Lord of Hollows, please ignite this imitation bonfire" she commanded calmly; "with your power, we can link it to the others".

The Unkindled did so and in an instant a fire took hold onto the pile of rubble. Surprise danced across his face; was this something he could have always done or was this a new power from the First Flame? How did they understand he possessed this power?

The pilgrims began to slowly scavenge books off the floor, reading aloud sections before tossing them to the side without thought. The other lady in black, Sybil, began searching the room with an intensity the Ashen One felt unnerved by.

The room, although still dark, was filled with whispered chattering and rummaging like cockroaches feasting on a forgotten, putrid meal.

"Champion" Yuria uttered in the dark, "what is wrong? The fire that was in you during the fight, the conviction you held, it has dampened. Tell me, what ails your mind?"

The Ashen One nodded his head to his mentor.

"Aye, it has. But I am not sure why".

Yuria took his hands and pressed them against her mask. She had done this many times in the last, but this time, instead of feeling a cooling sensation through his armour which brought a sense of relief, her touch felt icy cold.

"You are privileged to a Flame which very few have carried, a truly fantastical achievement. Tell me, what does the Flame feel like? Can you feel its ebbing and flowing? Its thirst for undead kindling? she questioned.

"It feels… just a little warmer, nothing else" he lied, pulling his hand away.

She hummed a low hum of understanding and then turned away.

"Yuria" he called out, causing her to pause in her tracks; "What do you plan to do with the flame? What happens next?"

She turned around, looking at him with the stillness of a statue.

"Why? You've never once asked what the plan was, or for any direction?" she cooed.

"I think I have a right to know. Am I not the rightful Lord of darkness?" he asked with a voice sounding more desperate than he wished.

Yuria let out a low hum in response.

"Ah, yes. Of course, you… my lord. All will make sense in time, just trust in me and my sister. All will be known soon" she expressed without an ounce of sympathy.

She turned away and went right to her sister. Her sister nodded her head and she immediately consumed a homeward bone, disappearing into ash and smoke.

A lump grew in the Unkindled's throat. Uh-oh, he thought.

He had stupidly shown his hand, and now the distrust inspired from the conversation with Solaire was shown to everyone in earshot of the conversation. The pilgrims who heard moved with a delicacy of malice; the ruse was up.

With the veil lifted, the Unkindled finally could feel the hostility brewing. It wouldn't be long till it burst.

Minutes passed in the darkness of the library, and he had not moved a muscle. Now, he thought. He moved towards a corner of the room, where he felt there was enough distance between himself, Yuria and any of the other Pilgrims.

He extinguished his torch.

Without a second of thought, he crushed a homeward bone and immediately thought of home. He pictured the bonfire in the center of the Firelink Shrine, the smell of the Fire Keeper, and immediately he felt the pull of the bonfire. Before he could teleport, something pushed him violently to the ground.

A Pilgrim had fired a soul dart at him, knocking him out of his trance. He could hear footsteps dashing right for him and the sound of a blade leaving its sheath.

Yuria thrusted towards the Unkindled and he barely rolled out of the way. He continued to distance himself from the noise as the lady in black hissed in the dark.

"You spineless, ashen, snake! All you had to do was come along for a few more moments and all would have been fulfilled!" Yuria cursed.

The Unkindled drew his blade, just in time to deflect the next attack. He took a step back and slipped on a book, tripping over, and falling backwards.

He hit the ground with a loud thud and he quickly rolled to his side just in time as Yuria drove her blade into the ground.

"If you won't enter into the kiln willingly, we'll just throw you in!" she grunted, pulling her invisible sword out of the ground.

The Unkindled retaliated with a swift kick to her chest, feeling the cracking underneath her light armour. Yuria let out an audible grunt of pain, but as soon as the Unkindled positioned himself to attack with his sword, Yuria swiftly backstepped away.

In the dark, the Unkindled's sight extended only a few feet. As soon as she retreated, she was all but invisible to the undead eye.

"You accuse me of treachery?" he spat into the dark air; "You have only used me to further the goals of the church! I never had a place here at all!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he heard a loud bang.

A bright blude arrow of light flew towards, lighting up the darkness of the library and reflecting off the pillars as it glided towards him. He rolled to his right just as a soul arrow came crashing down.

The pilgrims were giving support to Yuria, firing off round after round of blue light.

As the blue lights filled the halls, the Unkindled dove and ducked under a handful of them, feeling the heat produced as he narrowed avoided them.

"My lady!" one of the pilgrims shouted.

The Unkindled recovered just in time to see the pilgrim produce the sword of Sword of Avowal, the same one used on Anri. Yuria dashed towards him and gripped the blade in her off hand.

Now was his chance! He consumed a homeward bone, and pictured home once more. He heard someone fire off another soul arrow but just as the arrow crashed into him, he disappeared into mist and ash.

He opened his eyes and was met, not with the cozy heat of the Firelink Shrine, but by a darkness barely brighter than the library. Filled with surprise, his eyes danced around, peering at the few visible landmarks nearby. It was the shrine he had awoken in after receiving the blessing from the Fire Keeper.

This… wasn't at all where he thought he would go. Was the Fire Keeper… here? Surely she would be at the other one, right?

The darkened shrine was completely empty. Everything that made the Firelink Shrine home-like was absent. The sound of Andre's smiting, Hawkwood sitting crestfallen on the stairs, and even the Shrine Maiden was missing.

Most importantly, the white-haired maiden herself was nowhere to be found.

Instead, where Andre used to be was a man wearing white attire, barely visible in the dark shadows of the shrine. His ghastly green face and white eyes gave him away:

The Pale Shade of Londor.

The Shade stood completely still; their claw gleamed in the darkness of the shrine. Without making a sound, the being immediately gave chase towards the Unkindled. Watching him silently glide towards him was the stuff of nightmares and caused the Ashen One to recoil in fear.

How was he here? Had Yuria sent him here to ambush him, as a contingency plan?

There was no time to think, he had to move. The Unkindled raced up the round staircase in the middle, his sword still in his hand. If he could avoid fighting the assassin, that would be for the best.

He ran up the stairs towards the light of the Kiln of the First Flame when suddenly, he heard a loud, agonizing scream that boomed into the open arches of the shrine.

He froze in place, casting his gaze up to the rafter's above. The dark was impenetrable to his sight, but the sound that descended exploded all around the halls and stairs of the shrine. The voice was unmistakable to the Ashen One, and he felt cold guilt run up and down his body as the voice panted with pained breath.

It was the Fire Keeper.

"No…" he gasped aloud.

Suddenly the air around was filled with a woman's laughter. The Unkindled gripped his sword tighter, frightened by the echoes of screams and laughter in the shrine. He retrieved his torch, despite all sense of wellbeing, ignited it, hoping to see the Firekeeper in the darkness.

But it was to no avail, as the torch did little to bat away the ever-encroaching darkness. Unkindled extinguished the flame, drawing his sword close with both hands.

"Listen to her, Ashen One. Listen to how she wails!" the Sybil taunted, her voice coming from everywhere at once.

It appeared that in in the short minutes she was gone, Sybil had most likely kidnapped the Fire Keeper from the other shrine and brought her here. The Unkindled turned round and round, hearing running footsteps dashing round and round.

The Unkindled turned once more and ran out of the entrance of the shrine. The light from the sun was once again red, almost as if the eclipse had never happened. Bathed in the light, he could see that all the hollows that filled the land before were all gone.

"I made sure she knew that you betrayed her" the woman continued to pester with malice.

The Ashen One turned around towards the darkness of the shrine, peering into it, looking for any sign of attack. He was torn down the middle, unsure of whether he could race up to the rafters and save her- or whether he should stay in the light for a fighting chance against the Shade.

A giggle came from the dark and the tortured screams recommenced. He did nothing but sweat as she wailed in excruciating pain; completely idle as the torturing continued until the screaming became pained breathing once more.

"She cursed your name as I made her bleed" Sybil squealed in delight.

Without warning, the screaming stopped, the air was once again silent. An excruciating, last release of breath filled the halls as images of the dying Firekeeper filled the Unkindled's head.

His chest was pounding, his skin crawling from the taunts.

"And now I'll make you bleed too" the voice commanded with complete frigidness.

A glint of silver from the darkness came. The Unkindled swung his katana into the air, blocking the kukri aimed for his face. Sybil and the Pale shade dashed into the light; weapons primed right towards him. The Ashen One dashed to the side and swung his sword horizontally to catch them both, but the Pale Shade blocked the attack.

Using the block to her advantage, Sybil drove her own katana right into the Ashen One's chest.

The pain was immense and would have been a fatal blow if it had been slightly closer to his heart. She kicked him off the blade and he collapsed onto the ground, right next to the cliffside. As he landed, rocks flew off, violently crashing into the mix of ash and rubble below.

The Pale Shade leapt into the air with a finishing blow but the Unkindled kicked his leg into the air, lifting the Pale Shade up and over him, leaving him tumbling off the cliffside.

He fell without making a sound, disappearing into the senseless architecture down below. The Unkindled quickly recovered off his feet and back peddled away from Sybil, reaching for his flask.

He barely had time for one swig when Sybil was once again upon him.

She fought with an exceptionally short Katana in one hand, and a sunless talisman in the other. The two exchanged blows on the edge of the cliff, with the Unkindled barely maintaining his balance.

"You think you can last until Yuria gets here? Ha!" she jeered, panting as she swung her sword without grace.

The Unkindled offered no response, still shaken up by the screaming in the shrine. He feigned a left strike before stepping in and jabbing her in the chest with his hilt. The strike was pitifully weak, due to his shaken demeanour, but it was enough to interrupt her barrage of attacks.

Sybil recoiled with an oof but before the Unkindled could finish her off with a quick slice to her gut, she reactively cast a blast from the talisman. The blast of light lifted the Unkindled and the surrounding rubble into the air, violently blasting everything away from the Sable Church sister.

Instead of landing on the cliffside, the Unkindled tumbled downward off the cliff. His stomach rose in his chest as the vision of the crumbling Firelink Shrine quickly began to shrink as his fall quickly picked up speed. He hit the ash hill beneath the cliffside, feeling a snap in his lower back, and fell into the depths of ash and rubble below.

The Unkindled flailed his arms helplessly before he collided with the side of a building, feeling the bones in his arms shatter upon crashing against the stone and rubble. He let a loud scream of agony and continued to tumble down, painfully landing onto a pile of ash on a jagged cliff.

For a moment, he had come to a full stop, precariously perched on a hill of ash. He tried to dig his feet into the ground to begin to climb but found he had lost all feeling and control in his lower body.

Before he even had time to panic over his paralyzed legs, the ash underneath gave way and he continued to roll down the hill, spinning uncontrollably as each dash against the ground caused immense pain.

All he could see was ash and the red sky, spinning around until suddenly he felt nothing underneath him.

"Oh shit!" he screamed aloud as he free fell into the open air.

He soared with all the grace of a brick, rotating so fast he could barely contain himself from being sick. Suddenly, a narrow, thin piercing pain stabbed right through his lower right side. He came to a violent stop, but the spinning in his head continued.

He gasped, the shock overwhelming him for a solid second before a scream seeped its way out of his mouth. He clutched his side, seeing nothing but spinning red.

He writhed in pain, hyperventilating as the pain surged inside him. He tried to move but each twinge caused even more pain. He closed his eyes, breathed as calmly as he could and allowed the spinning in his head to slow.

When he opened his eyes, he was horrified by the sight. He had been impaled on a tall railing from Lothric castle sticking out of the soft ash bed.

By some miracle, it had missed any vital organs, but he could feel the life drain from him as cool, red blood stained the ash beneath him into a dark-pink dust. He opened his mouth to scream from the pain but the only thing that came out was a soft, airless cough.

His first instinct was to succumb to the pain and return to a bonfire, but by now, the Pale Shade had returned from his grizzly fate. If the Unkindled revived at the bonfire, he would be stuck in their clutches once more.

He gripped the railing and tried to pull himself up but lacked the strength. He tried again, letting out a horrible scream as he did so, but the effort yielded no results. Even if he could pull himself up, he would have to pull himself 3 feet off the ground before being free of the railing itself.

"It's no use" he panted heavily.

He reached for his katana- maybe he could cut himself out- but felt nothing but air. He tried to turn his body to face his scabbard but immediately was seized with pain. Without turning his body, he ran his hand up the scabbard, feeling for the hilt and, sure enough, his sword was missing.

He craned his head around, hastily searching for it. A few seconds passed and he found it laying on the ashen earth not far. He reached his hand out, but his reach failed him by mere inches. Are you kidding me?! he cursed in his head.

He reached around with his left hand and grabbed his estus flask. He took a quick drink of the ambrosia. Immediately, the vigor returned to his body, healing his bones- but as soon as the pain left, he was revisited by the stabbing sensation in his side.

He had to un-impale himself if he wanted to heal properly.

The adrenaline finally began to fade, and he could feel his conscious slipping away. His vision went dark and he braced himself for the fight to come back at the shrine.

His eyes opened and he let out a gasp of pain. His vision was still skewed, and he- somehow- had not died from the blood loss. He looked down and saw that the bleeding had stopped. It seemed that after healing, the severity of the wound had diminished. He was no longer bleeding out, but his horrible headache and uncontrollable shivering made it apparent he was most likely bleeding from within.

His head was pounding from being upside down for so long, he could barely think. He blinked repeatedly, trying to get his bearings as his mind processed the world from such a lopsided perspective.

He reached around and gripped his flask and took another drink. As he did, the pain subsided and then quickly returned once again. The shivering stopped and his headache eased up.

At least now he could think.

He shifted his weight slightly and accidentally drove himself lower on the sharp railing.

"AH!" he howled into the night air.

He lost grip of his estus flask and it landed into the ash below, rolling inches just out of reach. No! he thought to himself. He stretched out an arm to grab it, but the pain was too much. His other hand immediately grabbed the base of the railing, which was slippery from his own blood.

He looked down- or up? - at his black gauntlet. This was bad, real bad.

He had reopened the wound and blood was once again seeping into the ash beneath him. He was panicking, breathing hard and wincing in pain as he lay trapped; easy picking for anyone who could come by.

He lay motionless, unsure of what to do next. He scanned his environment and he could see an amalgamation of different buildings, sticking out of the ash hills around. Much of the crumbling structures were unrecognizable, while others looked distinctly like Lothric Castle remains. Dozens of decapitated suits of armour lined the ground, and broken blades and spears lay scattered about in the ash.

There were so many hiding places around him, anyone could be watching him.

His mind was racing with the possibilities. At any moment, any one of the thousands of hollows loyal to the church could find him. As soon as he entertained the thought, he heard soft footsteps in the ash nearby.

He froze in place, he even considered playing dead, but if something had been watching, they already knew the truth. He slowly turned his head towards the noise.

From the corner of his eye he could see a naked, pale hollow. Their black, beady eyes looking at the Unkindled with greed.

"P-p-please… help me" he whispered, hoping that the hollow had enough sense to help him.

The hollow approached until he was right in front of the impaled undead. The hollow reached out and gave him a little shake from his shoulder. The Unkindled let out a scream as pain danced all around his body and the naked hollow recoiled, snarling at him.

The pain was so bad that he nearly lost consciousness then and there. After a few moments of examination, the nameless hollow approached once more.

The hollow extended a curious hand… past the Unkindled and onto the hilt of his katana. He pulled it away in a quick motion and pointed the blade towards the Unkindled. The hollow held the blade with no grace or control, its shaky hands betraying the wielder.

"Oh, come on" the Unkindled groaned in annoyance, ready for the blow to come.

In the end, maybe it didn't' matter. He was barely hanging on; in a few minutes he would bleed out. But instead of finishing him off, the creature snatched another object of its curiosity- the estus flask.

"Wait! Give that back!" the Ashen One demanded.

He threw out a hand to grab the hollow but was too slow. The hollow gave him another snarl and quickly hobbled away, taking the sword and the estus flask with him.

"As soon as I get out of here, I'm going to skin you alive!" the impaled warrior seethed threateningly.

The creature did not take a second look back and disappeared into some rubble and never returned. The Unkindled roared for the thief to return, but the demand was left entirely ignored. He once again gripped the base of the railing and tried to pull himself up but once again the effort was wasted.

"fuck" he muttered into the air around him.

"That was quite unfortunate, friend" a soft, meek voice called out.

The Unkindled turned his head to face this voice and saw a knight standing on one of the nearby building protruding out of the hillside. The knight's armour was rather large for the person wearing it, and it had a singular brass color all throughout.

The knight leap down, landing next to the Unkindled. The strange man looked down, and squatted next to the impaled one so that they were face to face.

"That looks extraordinarily painful, did you fall all the way from the top? Blimey, you are either incredibly lucky or… quite stupid… no offense" the voice amicably spoke, eyeing him curiously.

The man did not seem to be a threat to the Unkindled. The knight took out a his own estus flask and held it within reach of the Unkindled. Without hesitation, the Unkindled snatched it and took two swigs of it. Immediately, he was at full strength, before the horrible stabbing sensation in his chest returned.

"You are uh… welcome, friend" the knight said as he took back the flask.

"T-thank you" the Unkindled responded, "Is there any way you can help me get off this thing?"

"Uh, y-yes. I think I can, hold on" he said just as meekly as before.

He took out his weapon, a polearm which had a rather large blade at the end. He took a swing at the railing, shaking it violently.

The Unkindled held on to the base, trying to not slide down from the rattling. The brass knight took another swing, and then another, slowly cutting into the thick metal. After one last slash, the railing was cut through. It fell to the wayside, sliding onto the ashen dirt.

"T-thanks… what's your name, kind sir?" the Unkindled asked as he extended a hand towards the brass knight.

The knight took the arm and gripped it hard. The two exchanged nods and the brass warrior pulled the Unkindled up. The Ashen One grit his teeth and let out a loud groan as he freed himself from the jagged railing. As soon as he was on his feet, he collapsed once again onto the ground. The Unkindled put his hand over the wound, when he pulled his hand away it was drenched with blood.

He needed healing, and fast.

"Yeesh, hold on, let me get you a… ah, bollocks" the friendly knight muttered.

The knight held up his flask, the color within drained completely. It appeared in his haste, the Unkindled had finished the rest of the helpful knight's estus flask. Too preoccupied with his own wound, the Ashen One offered no response to the bad news, nor his own selfish haste.

"H-here good man. Takes these. They won't heal you completely, b-but they should keep you going" the strange knight said, offering the Unkindled a handful of yellow glowing rocks.

The Ashen One had never seen these rocks before, but when he crushed them in his hand, he felt his life force slowly begin to regenerate. The man helped him up to his feet, but the Unkindled's legs once again betrayed.

"Come on, knight. You can do this! I know you can" the brass man encouraged the Unkindled.

The Unkindled audibly let out a chuckle, getting to his feet.

"Somehow… of all the undead in the world, I think I've come across the friendliest" he said slowly, dizzily maintaining his balance.

The brass warrior let out an audible gasp.

"T-that… is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me before." the man said slowly, without a single hint of irony.

The Ashen One reached into his bottomless box and withdrew a divine blessing. He only had a couple, but he was saving them for moments as bleak as this one. He uncapped it and downed as fast as possible. In an instant, he was cured from all the pain incurred from the fall.

"My name is Lapp, by the way. I know you asked earlier- right, uh… Sorry. I-I'm searching for the Ringed City for… urgh, I- "the friendly knight spoke, speaking in broken verse common for hollowing knights.

"Slow down, trying to remember will only hurt" the Unkindled explained from experience.

The Unkindled sat on the ground, still mentally shaken up by the trauma from before. He hoped he would never be in that position ever again. He would have preferred to have died 100 times than endure that punishment again. Lapp nodded his head.

"I-I know but, I feel like if I just… focused on it I might have a breakthrough. I am certain that the man I used to be would never forget something so vital".

The Ashen One gave him a long look. It did not matter who you are, or who you were.

Everyone forgets eventually.

Truth be told, the Unkindled could not fathom how much time had passed since defeating the twin princes and now. It might be centuries, or decades. The Unkindled couldn't be sure.

Did the Ringed City still lure hollows astray, after so long?

"Well, let me give you a piece of advice" the Unkindled spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, "don't waste your time chasing it. The Ringed City is just a myth, and even if it did exist, it is either buried under ash or crushed by one of these other buildings".

Lapp gave a small, soft laugh in return.

"Aye, maybe you're right. But I cannot think of anything else to chase… and if I stop chasing it, I know I'll go mad. Why not come with me? I am sure if we put our minds together, we can find a way there. What do you say, friend?"

The Unkindled scoffed aloud.

"I'm afraid I must decline, but you have my thanks all the same" the Unkindled responded.

"Ah, that's disheartening, but I understand. If you wish, I could show you the path back up to-"

"-No" the Unkindled shot back.

He glanced back up the way he fell.

He had fallen so far that the Firelink Shrine was entirely out of view. The very thought of returning filled him with dread. Somewhere up there, the church already had the Firekeeper.

He could hear her screams pounding in his head…

He shook the thoughts out of his head.

No! He needed to be a hero! The knight to fight against the Sable Church, he-he could do it! He had defeated the Soul of Cinder! Slain all the Lords of Cinder before! The First Flame was within him, because he was able to overcome insurmountable odds.

Of all the Undead, he would have been crowned as a Lord of Cinder without the church, he stood above the rest of world, attaining greatness other could only dream of!

But in an instant, the delusion of grandeur was shattered.

He couldn't save her. He… he wasn't that kind of man. He had only been brave when he had the backing of the church. Alone, he was nothing; a weak, frail undead on the brink of hollowing.

It didn't matter that he defeated the Soul of Cinder, each step of the way was orchestrated by a higher power, the power of the church, and he didn't stand a chance to fight against it.

He never understood the full extent of their evil, and now that he was faced with a single drop of their retaliation, he was shaking at the prospect of returning. It was a losing battle to return and by now, Sybil had reinforced the place and perhaps Yuria was there too. He could fight one of them, but there was no way he could face the two of them, especially now.

It was madness to try to take them on.

He felt the heat of the guilt in his face, knowing that he was now staring the at the truth of who he really was, bare and all. The truth that the only thing that was sensible to the Unkindled was to run. Run as far away from this mess and pray that even without the Firekeeper, he could fall back on the Flame's plan for him.

"I… I cannot go back. Just… point me in the direction to the Boreal Valley" he said, tearing away from the world above.

Lapp simply shrugged and lifted a brass finger.

"Just down this cliffside, you'll see it once you get around the bend down there. There is a bed of soft ash down below, and don't worry, there isn't a fence hidden underneath it to impede you" he said, almost laughingly before suddenly catching himself.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. Is that something I would joke about? Maybe I am not a good man after all" Lapp said introspectively.

Without another word, the Unkindled walked away. He could not bear to ruminate on his actions, he felt sick each time he thought about what he was doing. But his cowardice overpowered any sense to fight the odds. The drive for self-preservation took precedence. He had no advantage in this fight, no matter how he looked at it, it was utterly hopeless.

"Er, goodbye, friend! D-don't you dare go hollow!" the brass knight called after him.

The Unkindled looked over the edge, seeing the large drop down below. He peered into the bottomless box for a new weapon, looking for a suitable katana- but the thought of using one made him sick to his stomach.

In the place of a katana, he withdrew the Gottard Twinswords, a pair of weapons he was familiar with. He looped them through his belt when he suddenly could hear her screams in his head once again.

He threw off his helmet and covered his ears. Anything to stop the sound of his guilt resonating in his head.

No matter how hard he pressed the cold metal gauntlets against his ears, he couldn't get the sound out of his head.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry but I can't-I know I can't" he wept solemnly, as hot tears began streaming down his weathered face.

He sat on the edge, filled with shame, guilt and defeat. He covered his face and prostrated himself to the open air. The brass knight watched him in the distance before shaking his head and leaving.

"Looks like this one was just on the brink, then. Damn shame." Lapp whispered to himself.

The Unkindled sat there and continued to weep. Wallowing in his own despair for some time. As the moments passed, the pain inside slowly numbed. Wiping away the remaining tears, he eventually dawned his helmet, and mustered enough courage to be a coward.

He took the leap.

Traversing the ruins of the dreg heap but slow, and the formations of the new ruined world was like moving through a maze. The Ashen One came across horrible monstrosities along the way, which he avoided mostly by just running past them and leaping off into large piles of ash.

Eventually, he reached the last of the buildings and came to an opening of ash hills and dead trees. It extended to as far as the eye could see, and as he looked back, he could see the dreg heap in its entirety.

The mere size of the amalgamation of structures was terrifying. It was as if the earth itself was poisoned by the creation of men; the broken structures looked like boils on sickly skin. But even in this corrupt, foul state, the immense size of the structure was staggering. Despite this respect, the hills of ash threatened to sink it underground, erasing all the evidence of history encapsulated in the crumbling decay.

He turned away from the remnant of civilization, to walk towards the path the Flame had guided him to.

Far in the distance, he could see arches which he recognized as what remained of Anor Londo. The arches barely stood over the ashen hills, but its sight was a clue that he was going the right direction. He pressed onwards up to the arches, and as he approached the crest of the hill, he could see what lay on the other side.

For miles as far as the eye could see was nothing more but ash hills. Even as his vision blurred towards the far reaches of the hills, in his heart he knew that nothing remained, that this truly was the end of the world.

The rest of the world outside of Lothric, was gone- completely and utterly buried. Time had eroded everything, and now the world outside the dreg heap only ash, sand, and wind.

The only notable sign of life was a small pocket of dead trees which lay beyond yet another ashen hill. The Unkindled traversed the wide-open landscape until he came across the entrance to this ashen forest. He hesitated to move into the forest, his eyes scanning the dense branches for any signs of a trap. After some time, he timidly approached the edge of the forest.

There was not a single sound coming within, it was like all the wildlife had been dead for quite some time. No leaves grew on any of the branches, but he could not shake the feeling that something was inside, watching him. Regardless, he entered the forest, and carefully continued onward on.

As he walked, he left footprints in the ash below.

The sun had finally set and only the moon had remained. This surprised the Undead, as he did not recall seeing the sun slowly descend into the horizon during his journey. It was as if, the moment he entered the forest, the sun was whisked away leaving behind only the lesser light in the sky.

Perhaps this was the remnant of the miracle cast into the sky of the Boreal Valley.

The moon too was drenched in red, and the light that streamed through the cracks in the branches above cast ominous rays onto the ashen ground. The night sky had a tint of red and was empty, even though there were no lights around. The Unkindled held his swords tight, listening to the deafening silence around.

Eventually, as he continued on the ashen path, he could hear a faint churning sound, similar to that of a wooden apparatus busily operating. He followed the sound and came across a small hut, held together by scrap metal and wood. There was a faint light coming within, and as he walked closer, the light vanished without a trace.

He carefully approached, reaching for the black, metal handle which had seen much better days.

He turned the latch to the side and opened the door. The churning sound was much louder now, but the inside of the hut was cast in complete darkness. No matter how hard he squinted, he could see nothing within. He began to reach for his torch when a voice called out to him.

"Ah, finally, Ashen One. You have arrived" a familiar old voice breathed.

He quickly ran a flame resin on one of his blades and the flame's light danced around the room. In the hut sat the old Shrine Maiden, her toothless smile wide and as ghastly as ever. She was spinning a large wooden spindle, producing a black thread which was being dragged into a clumsy collection on the floor of the hut. The door suddenly closed behind him with a loud bang, and the room lit up with a faint, grey light.

The old woman gave a low, husky laugh as she laid eyes on him. The Unkindled turned back to face her.

"And without the Firekeeper no less. As is to be expected" she chuckled haughtily.

The Unkindled's numbness subsided and he could feel his face getting hot, not from the fiery sword in front of him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

The lady once again laughed.

"Think nothing of it, Ashen One. It is merely an observation. The real question is, what do you desire of me?" she sighed.

She stopped spinning the wheel and bent down to collect whatever she had been spinning. She crushed it with her two hands and a small bright light danced between her palms. When she split them, the collection of thread now took shape.

"Come closer, Unkindled" she beckoned.

The Ashen One did so. The old lady took his hand and placed the object inside it. He took a closer look and saw that it looked like a black effigy, a ball of thread where inside was a symbol he did not recognize.

"What is this?"

"What do you see inside the effigy? Is it what the Flame promised you? Is it salvation, or damnation? "she whispered mysteriously.

"How do you- "he began, unsure how she knew about the First Flame talking to him.

"It does not matter, Unkindled Ash. Without your Keeper of Fire, you must think on what you will find on the other side. Continue to the archtree, and decide your fate from there, Ansem".

She called him by his real name.

The name felt so foreign to him. The last person who called him that was Siegward, and for a moment, he forgot the name belonged to him at all. He took the icon and put it away in his pocket.

He had questions and- almost anticipating his curiosity, she spoke first.

"My time here is short, and I am expecting another one soon. She requires much more assistance you see, as she's forgotten more than her courage. All I will say, is that you should follow… follow your heart" she said, chuckling a low laugh which annoyed the Unkindled.

"My heart? What kind of corny- "he started but was once again cut off.

"Ansem, toil not on my words but the meaning behind them. Do you wish for closure? For death? If that is what you want, then perhaps, the pool will grant it".

The Unkindled swallowed hard. Maybe that is all he deserved at this point.

An end. Not a happy one, just an end to this misery altogether.

"Now leave, he waits for you on the island. He arrived after you but left before. I did not send him astray. You must meet him, and you must face each other one last time before the end. You are not the only Undead who can see me, after all" she said in a suddenly mean tone.

"He? Who is waiting for me up ahead? Someone from the church?" he asked aloud, frustrated by the cryptic nature of the message.

The maiden offered no other explanation. She only shook her head with a smile and offered one last gift.

"But before you go, you will need this" the maiden whispered.

The maiden gestured to a dirty window nearby. The Unkindled walked towards it and saw a small chest, he opened it up and inside was an estus flask. He picked it up, feeling its fullness and turned to give thanks to the maiden.

But when his gaze fell to where she sat, she had gone.

Was this all happening in his head? He reached into his pocket and pulled out the icon she had given him.

If this was real, then maybe it did happen… he thought.

He peered once more at the black mass but could make no sense of the image it was supposed to be. He pocketed it once more and made his way to the door. He pulled the handle and stepped out into the air. He glanced down and saw another pair of footprints that ended at the front of the door.

He drew his swords- someone had been following him- and prepared for a fight. He followed the footprints, but they only continued on the ashen path away from the hut. He looked around some more and ruminated on what the maiden had told him.

He arrived after you but left before.

What was going on?

He took his leave and followed the path behind the hut. The path began to go uphill and as he reached the top the forest parted gracefully, revealing a large lake. He was taken aback; why couldn't he see the lake from the ashen hilltop near Anor Londo?

As he peered across the water, his heart pounded hard in his chest. The red light from the moon made the still water look like blood. He approached the coast and saw a small rowboat, lazily floating on shore. The footprints entered the water, and from there disappeared into the liquid. He waded into the water too, feeling the coldness ripple around him.

He boarded the boat and began to paddle over the silent, unmoving water.

As he did, a cloud masked the red moon. The red sky turned black and immediately, the water lost the colour from before. The Unkindled shot his gaze to the sky, seeing the clouds that were not there hours before.

There was clearly something amiss in this forest. What kind of magic was imbued here? How could this place exist when the rest of the world was buried under ash?

As he neared the island, he could see that it was entirely man-made, and very ancient. The stone island was crumbling at every corner, and although a large tree could be seen in the middle, many crumbling arches built around the island indicated the entire lake was once covered by stone. Was this an island of worship? What was the purpose of all of this?

Something else caught his attention.

There was a boat already beached on the island.

The Unkindled paddled right next to it and set out to explore the island.

The Ashen One stood onto the land, feeling the solid stone underneath. The large white archtree stood tall, wrapped around in petrified bark, its roots growing deep underneath the structure that had been built. As he drew near, the tree suddenly lit up in bright yellow lights. The lights began to crawl and creep around the bark, and to the Unkindled's surprise, he could see that the lights had legs, eyes, and tiny flapping wings.

They were insects. Somehow, in this dead and decayed world, these brightly lit bugs lived in the bark of this archtree. Standing beneath the yellow light from the tree, was the user of the last boat, their back turned to the Unkindled.

His appearance shook the Unkindled to his core. This could not be happening, he thought.

The Pale Shade turned around, his manikin claw in hand and casting branch at the ready. As soon as they exchanged glances, the Pale Shade cast homing soul mass, and offered a bow of dueling.

The Unkindled was utterly confused. Why was the Shade here? Did he also converse with the maiden? Knowing that the Shade would offer no answer, The Unkindled reached for his blades, drawing them out. He immediately ran magic resin over his blade, and rapt the two blades against one another. Blue fires spit and sputtered off the blades, running off and onto the ruined ground.

The two approached, blades at the ready, circling each other slowly, waiting for one to make the first move. The singing of the soul mass filled the air, and with slight warning they jettisoned towards the Unkindled.

The Unkindled expertly dodged each mass as it approached him, and after the last one had fired, he rolled out of the way and instinctively deflected the physical blow from the manikin claw. The Shade continued to rampantly claw at the Unkindled, who ducked under the attacks, narrowly avoiding the sharp fingers.

The Unkindled went on the offensive, striking at the Shade with both blades, slicing in two different directions to attack around the claws defensive abilities. The Unkindled attacked relentlessly, sending sparks into the air until his stamina began to fail him.

The Ashen One retreated, waiting to recover and as he did, the Pale Shade took a swig of his estus. In an instant, the proof of the Ashen One's assault was wiped away.

It would be a battle of attrition. A norm when it came to combat between undead.

The two fought and wore each other down for what felt like hours. Their clashing blades and sparks danced in the reflection of the pool. Different lights from the resins sang into the air as the dual blades collided with the unbreakable claw. Eventually, they had consumed their estus flasks completely, and were down to the final blows.

During their last engagement, the Shade was losing ground, and the Unkindled approached on the attack. The Shade stood near an archway right over the water, quite a distance from the tree. The Unkindled swung wildly and without abandon, certain he would break the Shade's defenses and defeat him after he had overwhelmed him. The Shade backstepped, looking panicked and the Unkindled drove his blade right at him.

But to his dismay, the Shade had parried the attack with the claw. The clang of metal echoed out across the lake, and any onlookers would know the battle was already over. Before the Unkindled could recover, the Shade drove its sharp claws into his chest. Blood spewed out of his chest and the Unkindled fell, barely hanging onto life.

As the blow landed, the cloud obscuring the moon lost its potency. The red light did not consume the lake with its harsh light, instead, the red orb hung ominously in the dark sky as the battle drew to its close.

The Shade withdrew the claw, turning his back to the Unkindled. The Unkindled collapsed, broken and defeated by the Sable Church once again. No words left his mouth, and even if he wanted to speak, he could not utter a word as shock ran throughout his body.

His gaze turned towards the lake, through the archway. The red moon glistened on the water and his vision began to turn dark.

As he lay on the ground of the island, blood staining the stonework beneath, his mind ran rampant. He gave no thought to who or what he was leaving behind.

This was supposed to be his triumphant exit from this forsaken world, instead, he lay defeated.

He wished someone would take him far away… to a place he could be someone else, free from this burden. Somewhere he could forget about his failures, somewhere he could rest, or perhaps find a purpose.

Somewhere where he could let go… and to begin again. Surely, someplace like that existed, right?

The Shade, realizing the Unkindled still drew breath stood over him.

The Shade lifted it's claw, ready to strike at the head. Just as the blow was going to fall, the Unkindled reached into his pocket and crushed the effigy.

He felt a surge of electricity run through him. For a moment, he could feel tears running down his face, he could hear crickets lightly singing into the night. His vision went dark, not from pain, but from something else. The stone underneath no longer felt rough, but instead, it felt like he was on something soft.

Perhaps… a bed?

But as quickly as the sensations came, they left. All the pain in his body came back as swiftly as they had vanished in that strange, apparition of dark.

He was back in the ashen forest underneath Anor Londo. What on earth had the Shrine Maiden given him?

Before he could think any further, the ground suddenly shook with an intensity that blurred the sight.

The insects on the tree took flight. They flew towards the archway, and as they passed the Unkindled and the Shade, two torches on the arches magically lit up. With the ignition, the still water began to swirl around violently, dashing water onto the arch tree island.

Suddenly, in front of the archway, the water opened into a whirlpool of darkness and ghastly apparitions flew out of the darkness. They began circling the air and running amok through the island, swimming in the air without any concern or thought.

During the light show, the Unkindled consumed the last crystal Lapp had given him. Seconds passed and the Shade looked back down, just in time to receive a powerful kick to the face. The Unkindled heard a loud crack sound as the kick landed, and the Shade collapsed onto the ground.

Now was his chance!

The Unkindled weakly pounced onto the mute and grabbed the Shade's head. With both hands, he dashed it against the stone floor repeatedly, each more forceful than the other. The creature opened its mouth the scream, but nothing came out, its eyes wide with pain as the Ashen One brutally smashed its head against the ground repeatedly.

The Unkindled continued his ruthless assault, with each dash he let out a roar of rage which was drowned out by the wispy black creatures that swam around in the air. The Shade desperately tried to push him off, but the Unkindled did not let up.

With one final blow, the Shade's skull was shattered, and he lay still, his blood spattered all over the ground. The Unkindled fell sideway, not fully recovered from the battle. His side was still profusely bleeding, but he mustered the strength to stand.

He stumbled towards the whirlpool, past the screaming ghosts that swirled around in the air. He peered into the darkness below and saw that it extended far past what his senses could see. It looked completely bottomless, except for the roaring water as it cascaded down into the emptiness below.

It did not fill him with any sense of safety.

But this is surely the pool the maiden had mentioned. He had no doubt in his mind that the Flame wished to guide him here.

He took one last look around, one last look at his forsaken world. He made a small vow, apologizing for his mistakes, his sins, and for abandoning the love of his life. His heart screamed with anguish as the guilt ran through him, tears ran down his face and he closed his eyes.

These tears were his, unlike the tears from seconds ago. He didn't know what that vision was, but it did not matter much now.

It was all about to be over.

He took one step off and let his body fall into the swirling abyss.

He fell and fell until none of the light from the moon followed. In the complete blackness, he continued to fall for what felt like ages. He closed his eyes, feeling the air fly by him until suddenly the whistling of the sound was drowned out by a silence so deep it forced the Unkindled to open his eyes.

He blinked, unsure of whether he had really opened his eyes. He could barely discern the difference between having his eyes opened or closed. After what felt like a quick minute, the darkness began to subside.

In the far distance of the abyss he could see dazzling lights of limitless colours.

As he fell towards them, the darkness slithered between the lights until the lights formed orbs, all differing in size and shape. He was suddenly enveloped in a bright yellow light, a personal orb which wrapped him in an opaque glow.

The glow filled with him a sense of safety, a rare comfort.

Had he not been filled with pain and fatigue from the last fight, the experience might have been euphoric. As he traversed the dark space, he saw colossal clouds of purple and amber, with lights dancing in their endless drifting bodies; spirals of light, dust, and clouds of sizes he never dreamed of.

It was just like the cosmos he had seen in Courland, a space of stars and an abyss as far as the eyes could see.

Was this all a dream? Was this the afterlife?

He fell and fell and fell until his senses could take it no more.

"Let this be the end. I cannot take this anguish anymore" he wished aloud.

He began approaching a bright blue light with immeasurable speed. He closed his eyes as the yellow collided with the blue and suddenly the sound of an explosion filled his ears. The sound, after hearing nothing but silence was completely deafening.

The fall suddenly reversed, his stomach lurching downward, making him feel sick. He was thrown into the air, far into a mysterious amber sky. As he spun, he caught a glimpse of a large ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see, and two enormous continents of land separated by a sea with spotted islands.

Was this what it felt like to be the Elder Dragons as they descended from the cosmos?

His climb into the air came to a slow end and he began to descend from the heights, still enveloped in a bright yellow light. As the earth grew bigger and bigger, he closed his eyes. The shock of the fall caused his mind to slip away, and before he knew it, he had conscious no more.

His limp body fell to the earth, protected by the yellow light of the cosmos.

He was awoken by a cool breeze that blew across the foreign land, rustling the tall grass that caressed his broken body. His eyes stared at the late sky, unsure of whether this was all a mirage conjured by a mad man, a hollow dream. He dug his arms into the ground, trying to get up but failed to muster the strength he needed. He was too beaten and bruised, but by some miracle he held onto life. His body gave way and collapsed but an odd sense of fulfillment. His breathing was pained and excruciating, and as he looked at the unfamiliar sky, his mouth parted into a smile. This was a new land, a new world, free from the shackles of his own.

He had done it. It was all behind him now.

He reached to his side and felt where he had been mortally struck in the last battle. He could feel where the claw had sunk into his flesh, tearing his insides apart. His hand felt damp with blood, and he wished that maybe, just maybe, he would get to die. His hand fell from his side and landed on the grass. Blood splashed up on his armour, but no worry crossed his mind, only hopeful optimism.

"Oh please" he pleaded, "Let me die, just this one time... Let this be the end".

He closed his eyes, a smile still on his face. Even if he just got to live in this world for just a small etching in the paper of history, it would be the happiest he had ever been since waking up in that God forsaken graveyard in what seemed like years ago. He felt the darkness creep up on him, and drawing a last breath, felt his body go cold into what he hoped would be an eternal slumber.

Surely, this is a fitting end for me? He thought, just as the nightly veil took over and he thought no more.

A/N:

Wow! That was a long one, and with it, we are caught up to where the prologue began. This chapter answers all the questions laid bare in the earlier sections and relates to all the flashbacks shown previously; but it also creates more mysteries for the future.

I had to do some rewrites on the chapter when I first planned it, due to the release of The Ringed City (which was a long time ago now). Perhaps the events of Ringed City and Ashes of Ariandel will become relevant and a return to Lothric, pre-time skip will happen later?

(It will, I am not even sure why I am pretending it is a maybe)

So, let us start with the breakdown. This one is a doozy and I don't blame anyone who feels like skipping this one after such a long chapter.

The Unkindled plays out what the Sable Church intended for him since he isn't quite sure if he can trust the flame. They take him to the remains of Courland, where Ludleth is from. In lore, Courland was known for practicing the use of transposing kilns and being able to summon creatures and items using powerful souls. Courland was completely consumed by the abyss, and one of the many cities purged by the Abyss Watchers and their followers. But with the power of the Flame, Ansem pushes away the abyss for the Church and they come across a transposing kiln of immense power, probably the most powerful one remaining. Using the Flames Soul, the Church intended to revive some old horror, "long thought forgotten". Now this could be many things, but Ansem never finds out. He has already heard enough, realizing he was just being used by the Church, but foolishly lets on that he doesn't trust the Church anymore. A fight breaks out against Yuria and the pilgrims, and Ansem barely escapes. The kiln is also alluded to be the way Yuria was able to create a corrupted version of the Dancer which she summoned during in the Arena.

After his escape, he is attacked by Sybil and the Pale Shade. During the previous battle, Sybil had left and accosted the Fire Keeper, bringing her to the Firelink Shrine at the end of the world, and so when the Unkindled attempted to "go home" to the Fire Keeper, he is brought to this Shrine instead. During this instance, Sybil tortures the Fire Keeper and presumably, cuts out her eyes (which Ansem never sees or finds out about until Yuria shows him them at the Arena); all to unnerve the Unkindled for easy capture. This was referenced in the earlier chapters when Robin asked Ansem if something would chase him from his own world, and he has a flash back to Sybil's words during this encounter. The two on one fight goes well, all thing considered. The Pale Shade is defeated, and Sybil is almost defeated, but casts wrath of the gods in self-defence. This sends Ansem into the depths of the dreg heap where he suffers the fall of a lifetime. After being impaled on a fence and robbed of his sword and flask, a friendly Lapp finds him and frees him. Here, the Unkindled makes the conscious choice to run from the Sable Church, since he is left in despair without allies or hope to fight for. He succumbs to his shame and breaks down, weeping pathetically until he finally feels numb enough to continue.

After traveling through the ashen world for some time, he comes to a mysterious dead forest. This is the same forest, cabin, and lake-island from the opening of Dark Souls 2. I intend to connect the lore of 2 into the story much in the same way as I did with 1, but with more of a twist. There is not much official lore of this place, so I decided to play around with the idea that this forest grew around the archtree. Before going towards the lake, he finds a mysterious magical hut where the Unkindled meets with the Shrine Maiden, who's appearance here has many implications. Is she the Emerald Herald? Who is this other individual who is going to come after the Unkindled? Many questions which are new and will be answered further down the road. Regardless, she gives him an unrecognizable effigy to trigger the portal. The Unkindled is rearmed with another flask and is warned that someone arrived after him to the hut, and then left before him. Essentially, the hut, like many aspects of Dark Souls, exists in a different space in the corporeal world for all undead. Once the door closes, he is gone from the shared world and enters into a private conversation- think of it like a confessional between undead and the Emerald Herald. The Shade, which had been stalking the Unkindled (he is an assassin after all), entered the hut after him and the maiden told him that Ansem would be going to the island with the archtree. Their conversation was much shorter, and so the Shade ended up leaving the hut and going to the island before Ansem leaves the hut. Once Ansem leaves, he sees the Shade's footsteps and follows suit. He sets off to the island much like in the opening cinematic and comes across the Pale Shade.

They have a duel and Ansem barely loses the fight, and in a desperation makes a small wish for a new beginning and he consumes the effigy. As soon as he does, he experiences some strange out of body visions and sensations and the portal opens (more on this later). He uses the distraction of the portal to brutalize the Shade and then leaps into the portal to escape. After traveling through space and time, he crashes through the Outrealm fort and safely lands in a field on the Ylissean continent where a familiar final paragraph mirrors the prologue but more from Ansem's personal perspective.

I hope y'all enjoyed that chapter and I hope y'all stick around for more. I have more rewrites up ahead because I'm working with recovered documents, but hopefully the next chapter will be coming out soon. Please feel free to leave any reviews, I read all of them for criticism and opinions!

Here is where the A/N officially ends. The only thing left to cover is lore and interpretation of the ash lake and that can be boring to read. Originally, I had this above but it is very long and wordy and it really kills the pace of the A/N/. I encourage y'all to read it if you wish, but you will not be missing out if you do not and are satisfied with the breakdown above.

Let's talk about the titular named archtree and the surrounding forest, as its easily the most ethereal and open-ended section of the chapter. First, we need to digest some lore from the games alongside my own interpretations. Let us start with what is evidenced in the games and then my continued interpretation which is never fully proven in-game. I am completely okay with anyone who disagrees with my interpretation, in fact, I welcome any dissident in the reviews or DMs (DMs might be better as they open discussions).

First off, let's point out facts about the ash lake.

When you reach the ash lake in DS1, you arrive by descending the insides of an archtree, into an expansive lake of presumably infinite archtrees. Since there is only one tree above ground, the other archtrees are implied to be links to other worlds/timelines. From this, you could argue that the ash lake is a physical manifestation of the multiverse, the link to all worlds and possibilities, however we are stuck in our world/timeline without a method of travel between other archtrees in the distance and therefore, other worlds.

Let us talk about what is factual in DS2s opening.

The Shrine Maiden at the beginning spins effigies in a wooden hut and a large white tree sits in a decaying structure in a large lake very reminiscent of the ash lake from DS1, except for this lake being above ground. Lastly, the bearer of the curse (MC from DS2) is on a quest to cure their undead curse and they use the portal to travel to Drangleic. In addition, Things Betwixt, the start of DS2, is surrounded by trees which look remarkably similar to archtrees from DS1, and the caretaker of the shrine maidens in Things Betwixt calls the place a sort of "purgatory between worlds". Lastly, it is heavily implied that the Maiden from the cinematic is the same person as the Emerald Herald. This is further proven by the voice lines for the Maiden in the cutscene being listed as "Old Shanalotte" and the voice lines for the Emerald Herald are listed as "Young Shanalotte"; Shanalotte being the Emerald Herald's real name. These are all the general facts proven in the game, or heavily implied with audio listings.

Here is where my own interpretation comes in.

About the Archtree and DS1:

I theorize that the archtree from DS1's Blighttown and DS2's cinematic are the same, just separated by thousands of years. Sometime after the events of DS1, Blighttown's sewage continued to pile up and dry, creating a landfill and overtime it buried the filth below. The tree we see in DS2 is the top branch of the actual tree, and the real tree extends far below buried Blighttown and into the original ash lake from DS1.

Here is my interpretation on the island and the crumbing architecture. I imagine that once access to the tree was normalized by being accessible on the surface, the mysteries of the archtree were explored by a resourceful group of scholars/religious peons of the way of the white. They dug into the tree and came across the original ash lake, but like us, were unable to decipher the secret to traveling between worlds. In their studies, they decided to replicate the lake on the surface with water from the ash lake. After building the reservoir on the surface, built a structure to house this portal-creating-tree and further study its powers and implications. After some time, like everything in Dark Souls, the secrets uncovered, and the identities of these scholars were lost and the only thing that remained was the decaying structure, the tree, and the lake.

So, the origins of the structure and the usage of the tree is explained, lets talk about how the portal works.

First, we need to discuss a postulate in the DS universe, the importance of wishes/desires:

This can be traced all the way back to the creation of the First Flame, where Gywn desired to fight the flow of nature and maintain an age of light. In DS2, the desires of the Kings gave them the drive to build their respective kingdoms, even if in the end, their ambitions amounted to empty castles. The First Flame wished for more kindling, and so it broke the flow of nature and reanimated the Lord of Cinders to reignite the flame again.

The point am I getting at is this: Desires, wishes, aspirations; all play a big role in the Dark Souls Universe.

This is especially the case for an undead, fighting away their hollowing. Without these wishes/desires, they are powerless, and succumb to the darkness inside, and I believe this line of thinking goes even deeper. Miracles, for example, are powered by the faith of the user, so in some respects, how much a user believes in something directly correlates with the power of that something. I am not going to say something as bold and corny like "all you need to do is believe" and you'll win, but that determination is key to a lot of the Dark Souls universe (and a role in the Fire Emblem universe but in a different, not-that-relevant way).

With that out of the way, here is what I have come up with: Using the portal, is entirely dependent on a wish the traveller makes. I interpreted this because I do not necessarily think this portal only transports people to Drangleic. I believe that the archtree is the catalyst of the portal, and to which other reality it brings you to is entirely dependent on the desire of the user. I believe that the bearer of the curse sought to quell the curse, and by desiring this in the presence of the tree, the portal opened to Drangleic. The archtree acted almost like a translator, reading the desire of the user and appropriately leading to a place the desire can be fulfilled. The portal opened to Drangleic in DS2 because Drangleic is the only known land where a cure for the undead curse was found by combining the crowns of the kings. It was the desire/wish that decides where the individual ends up. In addition, the portal never takes you directly to what you need, only puts you on the right path. The portal did not take the bearer of the curse right to Vendrick, just to Drangleic, and the bearer had to do the heavy lifting to achieve their desire/wish.

But this still does not fully explain how the portal is activated. Can anyone go to the portal and wish themselves to another worlds/times? If so, wouldn't that have big lore implications? So, I thought on it some more and here is what I came up with.

In the DS2 cutscene, the Emerald Herald/ Old Shrine Maiden is visited by the bearer before they reach the lake. I figured this has to be an important meeting, something that had to happen before they could use portal; that by meeting with the maiden, maybe the bearer was receiving a blessing from the maiden which allowed them to use the portal.

But here is the catch I came up with, only your own Fire Keeper can give you this blessing to use the portal. This would explain why nowhere in recorded history has the portal been used, due to the lack of Fire Keepers and their respective knights. The scholars of the archtrees, assuming they were part of the way of the white, were most likely still human, and so they never could uncover the all the answers.

Let's talk about what I mean by appointed/respective knights since there is a clear change between games.

Before I carry on, I need to go over what we know about Fire Keepers and their significant knights. In DS1, the two human Fire Keepers you meet are relatively independent outside of their duties as Keepers. One spends all their time chilling underneath the fire, and the other serves as a blade of the darkmoon in their free time. There is no clear relationship between main character and Fire Keeper, the knightess in Anor Londo even alludes to you using the bonfire like it is a public park bench or something.

However, sometime between DS1 and DS2, the relationship between Fire Keeper and main characters seems to shift.

I have no idea why, but the relationship has become more exclusive- no one else seems to interact with the Emerald Herald outside the main character in terms of levelling up, talking and receiving upgrades. This implies a certain connection not found in the previous game, and this relationship is further built upon in DS3. The Fire Keeper in DS3 seems to be waiting exclusively for the main character because without their recovery of the coiled sword, they cannot begin to aid in the quest to rekindle the fire. In addition, it is implied that not every Fire Keeper meets their appointed knight, and this is evidenced by the literal piles of dead Fire Keeper's in the Shrine Tower. Lastly, Irina and Eygon indicate that places like Carim try to train Fire Keepers but there is no mention of any of them being successful. But they still echo the relationship of Fire Keeper and an appointed knight, as if that bears a deeper significance than just Eygon being her bodyguard.

The key take-away is that Fire Keepers have a certain affinity to one specific knight, and in Ansem's case, this affinity has developed into a strange, loving affection.

The Emerald Herald, when making their first appearance as the Old Shrine Maiden, allows the bearer of the curse able to use the portal. If the events of DS2 take place before the cinematic opening, then surely, the maiden/herald knows the bearer of the curse is going to become the true monarch -or whatever, and the maiden already sees the bearer of the curse as their appointed knight. She then gives them the blessing so the bearer can travel to Drangleic to meet the maiden's past self; a time travelling/self-fulfilling prophesy.

If some random traveller came and met with the Herald, they would receive the blessing, but not be able to trigger the portal since they are not the appointed knight. But this can be circumvented by consuming an effigy, a reflection of humanity of the Emerald Herald's appointed knight. By embodying the humanity of the Herald's appointed knight, even for a split second, the consumer cheats the system and the archtree reads the correct appointed knight's heartfelt desire (regardless of where they are in that point in time) and the portal teleports the user of the effigy to where the appointed knight would be sent based on their wish/desire.

Now how does this factor into the story? Well, Ansem arrives to the forest but he arrived without his Fire Keeper. Ergo, the opposite of what was discussed earlier, the appointed knight arrived without the right Fire Keeper. The Shrine Maiden expected this, almost assuredly. It is implied that this was supposed to happen to set things in motion, and that the Herald already knew that Ansem would try to cheat his fate and fail to fight against the Sable Chruch. She gives him an effigy of her own appointed knight, and when Ansem peers into it, he does not recognize. Had it been an effigy of him, he would have been able to recognize it and it would have reminded him of his own humanity. The maiden refers to another who is to come, presumably the bearer of the curse and her own appointed knight, but using this effigy, Ansem can trigger the portal himself. However, when he opens the portal using this effigy, the portal does not grant him his own wish and instead, teleports him according to the desire of the rightful appointed knight. This is signified because when he consumes the effigy, he has a vision of what the correct appointed knight is going through right now, peering into their personal life. He embodies them for merely a second but combined with the maiden's blessing and the bearer's desire, the portal is opened.

But who is the appointed knight/ bearer of the curse? Well… in truth, DS2 has never once been specific on who it could be. Which left it incredibly open for interpretation, and if I reveal more it would be spoiler territory!

But one thing is for sure, it is not Ansem…

Okay that really is the end of the A/N. (This was a chapter's worth of A/N)