Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Come and delect me and embrace me and we shall generate a new son who will not resemble his parents," says the King. The pregnant queen then answers her spouse from across the cleft, "See, I am come to you and am ready to conceive a son who has not his equal in the whole world." - Adapted from Wood Cut "Anatomiae auri, part V, p.6 (M.Merian after Pandora) . (Fabricius, 44-45).

When Radagon finally released Marika from his grip, she immediately retreated from him. She curled up to the side of the bed with her arms wrapped around herself. Her eyes were tense as she tried to hide a quiver in her lips and her intense, deep breaths. Her cheeks had streams of tears.

Radagon reaches to touch her arm, "Marika... I..."

"Leal hound," Marika mutters.

"Don't call me that."

Radagon grabbed his tunic and began to dress himself. He had a sort of vanity to him. He liked to leave his muscular chest bare, more in a way to distract from his disgusting red hair.

There were times when even he questioned the Golden Order and the Greater Will but he always reminded himself that the Greater Will's ways were not his ways. He was merely a being; a thing created, broken off, then sent adrift, and now brought back to his other half to merge with her again.

One god, now two.

Two, to become one.

Through violent coitus,

That fills her love object with purified gold. (Fabricius, 43)

But even if their bodies merged, in the time of their long separation, the siblings' wills had split and diverged too far in separate paths.

"Why are you like this?" Radagon asked.

Marika bit her lip and looked towards the door leading to the Erd Tree. She had met Godfrey there. He was known as Hoarah Loux then. The beastly savage man of the badlands. He was brought before Queen Marika, chained and naked with the spear in his side. He stank from being paraded through the dusty roads, spat upon, and covered with dung and mud.

"Impressed with how we turned this beast into a cub?"

Marika cocked her head as she looked at the man. Each breath Hoarah Loux drew emitted the steam of his range. His lips longed to taste blood again. Her blood.

"No, I'm not," Marika replied. "I've seen no beast ever tamed like that."

She snatched the flask from the man's hands and approached the man-beast.

Though not yet a goddess, she was feeling the power swell. She grabbed the spear and with a pull, yanked it from his side, which caused him to howl like an animal. She then offered him water, which he lapped from her hand like a dog. She then placed a comforting hand on the chieftain's cheek and offered him a gentle smile.

Marika then turned to her men, "That is how you tame a beast. Not by preventing it from killing, but by teaching it to hunt on command."

Radagon was no Godfrey. For who was the greater man? The one who was born a god or the one who changed his nature to become one?

Marika looked back at Radagon and said in a stern tone, "You'll have the child you want. Now go."

"It's not what I want..."

"You had your way... its way with me... now go!" said Marika.

When Radagon was gone, Marika rested her head against her knees, and her long hair cascaded over her face to hide her shame. It was only a matter of time before they would fuse together and Queen Marika the Eternal would be gone.

Chapter Text

Miquella waited outside in the hallway with a beaming smile and a flower hidden behind his back. Earlier, he pushed the servants to hurry in braiding his long blond hair so that he might go out and check on his lillies. How delighted he was that they had grown so robust, but still not perfect. So, he waited for days. And days. And days. Every morning he checked against his mother's suggestion.

"Sometimes progress cannot be seen day to day," she said.

Eventually, Miquella's patience was exhausted and he plucked one. What did perfection matter if he had to wait so long to see it? It was beautiful all the same and he knew it would delight his little sister.

Miquella stood up on his toes as he always did when he felt anxious as he paced in front of the closed door. It had to be a good day today! It had to! They gave Malenia some different medicine.

Miquella's heart lept in joy when the door opened and two women dressed in white stepped out.

"Little sister!" he exclaimed, but the door was slammed shut as soon as it was open. Without saying a word, the women scurried off to fetch some supplies.

Miquella dropped the flower and covered his mouth. Even with the door closed, he still heard the terrible shrieks within. Tears welled up in Miquella's eyes as the door remained closed.

"I want my mommy! Please... stop... Please. I want my mommy. No! No! No! Stop it! Please stop it!" Malenia cried. The next was an ear-splitting scream.

"Miquella!"

In almost a trance, Miquella turned around to see his father staring down at him.

"Miquella, son. What are you doing here?"

"I-I..." He stuttered.

"I told you that if Malenia ever wants to play, someone will fetch you," said Radagon. "She doesn't want to play today. Come on. You're missing your morning prayers."

Radagon held out his hand which Miquella took.

It was always the unwritten, yet well-established rule that if Miquella didn't ask, then no one had to lie. And so anything "new" or otherwise out of the ordinary was never asked about or questioned. No matter what, Miquella was expected to conduct himself as though everything was normal, no matter how out of place it was. Whether it was the frequent pretty women who would enter Godwyn's chamber, to the giant hairy man they called Mr. Margit that Miquella saw wandering the grounds from time to time.

Normal.

Ranni's cries when she thought she was alone.

Normal.

The "tall women" who came and went without saying a word.

Normal.

They came to the church and Radagon led his son towards the altar and statue of Queen Marika. The city was still quiet as the curfew of quiet hours wasn't lifted.

"Let us pray," said Radagon as he knelt before the statue of Marika.

Miquella knelt beside him with his hands clasped together.

Miquella always thought it was strange that he would kneel before an alter of Marika when she was his mother he saw almost every day. In one rare moment where Radagon did explain, he told Miquella it was to "set an example" for others to follow.

If it was an example, then there was never anyone to see it. Miquella never recalled seeing any else come in while they were there.

Miquella was told there was singing when he was born and the boy could imagine it was beautiful. The walls were such that even the slightest whisper echoed an ethereal sound. It seemed the very walls itself had the power to turn any voice beautiful.

"Can I pray for my sister?" Miquella asked.

Radagon raised an eyebrow and Miquella thought he said something wrong.

Radagon nodded and said, "Okay. So long as you pray."

And pray Miquella did. That Malenia would have nothing but "good days." And that she wouldn't be afraid. That her sight would improve...

"Miquella," said Radagon, interrupting the prayer. "Let's go, son."

Upon hearing his son's prayer, Radagon decided it best that he take Miquella out to the outskirts of the capital. Just the two of them.

At first, Miquella sat on the grass with his head rested on his knees. It wasn't fun without Malenia. Or Godwyn. Even Radahn played with them on occasion. At least his horse did. Radahn allowed the twins to take the reigns and lead Leonard around the stable to much the twin's delight.

Eventually, Radagon suggested that Miquella wade out into the water and look for some "treasures". The suggestion worked.

For a time, Miquella's young mind was relieved of the burdens of the palace. It had been a while since he and his father spent significant time together and Miquella started to soak every second of it. He ran through the fields and stopped at every little thing to show his father. He waded out to the moat where he collected a good number of interesting rocks, insects, shells, and plants that he wished to show to Malenia "when she felt better."

He was fascinated by the rare phenomenon of the sun and the moon appearing in the same sky and pointed it out to Radagon.

This is how a boy should be, thought Radagon. Playing and laughing. Certainly not distracted by any of those petty things happening in that palace.

The only thing Miquella should burden himself with was his education, of which Radagon decided to give him a break from. Whatever happened to Malenia... well, it was just unfortunate, but it was still hard for Miquella to understand the greater purpose behind all of this. It was better if Miquella didn't know she existed at all, but in that matter, Radagon had no say.

Radagon wasn't even allowed to see them for at least several months after their birth until he and Marika were "unified" at least in the body. The mind was another matter. Marika still clung to Godfrey. All the tenants necessary to retain the absolute order and basis for the Lands-Between started to crumble.

Radagon's purpose was to ensure it did not fall away entirely under Marika's whims.

Miquella was four years old, but no one would think he was more than two. His progression had halted when Marika decided, for whatever reason, that Malenia's life was more important than the entirety of the Greater Will's plan. Radagon tried to explain that despite being a goddess, she couldn't comprehend fully how many lives such actions might affect.

She didn't seem to care at all.

"Papa?" said Miquella.

"Humm?"

"Could you tell me that story? The one where the warrior found the Queen of the Full Moon?"

"That story again? How many times have I already told it? I bet you could tell it better than I can by now?" chuckled Radagon.

"I like it when you tell me."

"Alright. Once there was a warrior," said Radagon as he took Miquella into his arms.

"He was a champion, right?"

"That he was. With long hair."

"And red! Was it like yours and Malenia's?"

Radagon frowned as his heart sank. He hadn't thought about Malenia like that for a time.

"Papa?"

"Yeah," said Radagon. "Like your sister's."

"Then he stood before the queen."

"Yes."

"With an entire army at his back! A thousand of them!"

"Yes."

"And they fought for days. Clashing swords and screams of men. And when the champion got to the queen, he fought her too."

"Yes. Until he couldn't anymore. So they stood on the battlefield and stared at one another. Each daring the other to move. But then they both fell to their knees completely exhausted. They were tired. They had already lost friends... so they just kneeled in the mud and let the rain fall all over them."

Radagon's voice started to fade out. Miquella wrinkled an eyebrow. This was different than how his father used to tell the story. He used to say how they decided not to fight anymore and became friends after that.

"Then what, Papa?"

"They both cried..."

Radagon started to sing a gentle melody as he stared up at that moon. Miquella placed his head against his father's chest, who pulled him in for a tight embrace. Tears soon came and dripped down onto Miquella's head. He started to cry a little too.

There was a moment, albeit brief when the color of Radagon's hair shifted from red to blond. It reverted just as quickly and became another "normal."

"Papa? Can we go home?" Miquella asked.

Nothing more was said during their walk. It was only after they reached the inside of the palace that Miquella broke the silence.

"Do you think Malenia feels better?"

"Perhaps."

"Look! Papa look, her door is open."

Miquella let go of Radagon's hand and rushed for Malenia's room.

"Oh! My flower."

He spotted it on one of the small waist-high cabinets. Someone must have spotted it and placed it there to keep anyone from stepping on it.

"Malenia! Malenia!" cried Miquella. "Father and I took a walk and I want you to see all the things I found..."

But the moment he entered the room, Miquella paused when he was hit by the putred scent of rot and vomit. Malenia lay on the bed with blood-soaked bandages wrapped around each arm. Her face too was covered over but her mouth was twisted down into a frown. Her breathing was shallow like she struggled through the pain for each breath.

She wasn't awake. The perfumers merely forgot to close the door behind them.

Miquella placed the wilted Lilly on the table next to Malenia's bed and lowered his head.

Sweet Lily stood motionless, staring rigidly at the soulless corpse,

In her mute despair, she sought no help, for she knew no help.

-M. Maier, Atalanta fuiens, Oppenheim, 1618. (Roob, 343).

Chapter Text

When Radahn was still a nursing child on his mother's knee, he often watched the shooting stars. Where did they all go he wondered. He asked his mother if he might one day catch one, to which she smiled, kissed his head, and replied, "No, little culver. It is for us to observe destiny, not impede it."

It was an answer that had to suffice for a boy, but he was a man now who had time to experience the world for himself. Beyond the fog, Radahn saw what lay outside Marika's divine influence with an insight that Marika provided all her demigod children. With this insight, Radahn had to state that what Marika built with the First Elden Lord Godfrey was something of wonder.

There was no hunger or famine. All had more than what was needed. Not even death itself was feared as all lived unnaturally long lives and returned to the Erdtree to be spun into life anew. And Marika's offspring enjoyed no such bitterness.

Why should such a thing be allowed to end?

Now that he was a captain and one of Marika's many champions, just like his father before him. And it was in Sellia that Radahn found his purpose and opportunity to prove himself before the Golden Order. But more important; to save the many innocent people Radahn had come to call his friends.

His scrawny horse Leonard came and pushed his nose against Radahn's hand, which got a chuckle and an affectionate scratch from the demigod.

Radahn was a mere pup still that barely left his mother's side when he met his friend. It was huddled up in the corner, unable to stand. The Stable Master told Radahn there was nothing to be done, as the foal was born premature, and its mother rejected it. With no will to continue living, the stablemaster looked to make the creature as comfortable as possible before its essence returned to the Erdtree.

His father came to search for him when Radahn didn't come home and found Radahn in the pen with the foal. The boy begged the scrawny foal to take some milk. Radagon, who often lacked patience for such things, tried to coax Radahn to leave the foal and come home, but he refused. Radagon reasons ranged from "it's not possible to keep" to "it will find peace within the branches of the Erdtree" to an outright "it's the will of the Order, and the Order is the Greater Will". Radahn countered by hugging the foal and saying, "But I want him to live!"

So Radagon let Radahn keep the horse to save him, and Leonard hadn't left Radahn's side since. It was almost a second heartbreak when Radahn grew too large to ride, which caused him to come to Sellia to learn gravity magic.

"Humph," said Radahn as he rubbed Leonard's nose. "The stars are shifting. It won't be much longer now."

The astrologers warned about what the people of Sellia have called "the Calamity" centuries ago, but no one paid any heed then. It seemed an event too far off, and who knew how the stars might shift between now and then? So, they did nothing while it was still possible to intervene.

Now, the hour had come. Not only had the stars not shifted, but the Calamity was far worse now than previously thought. If it landed, it threatened to destroy the entire town of Sellia and render much of Caelid uninhabitable. Panic ensued, and councils started offering anything from the improbable to the ludicrous. (One even suggested moving the town - buildings and all, north. They figured they might make peace with all the dragons somehow.)

Radahn asked the astrologers to send the Queen word. They wrote a lengthy thousand-page brief that laid out every scientific observation and all calculations of the event; complete with detailed diagrams and ledgers full of equations. It took them months to compile through the bickering of whose contributions to include and credit; even if it was redundant or useless.

Radahn still smiled at their faces when Marika's reply came within less than an hour of the brief's reported delivery, indicating she did not read it. In a message addressed only to her stepson, Marika gave the one-phrase response, "Do what you must."

With Marika's blessing and the authority to do whatever he wished, Radahn ordered the entire town of Sellia to evacuate towards Redmane Castle and bring very little. For four days, the town sat empty with nothing but memories. Radahn laid his hand on one of the stone columns to remember what it was about this town that made it worth every effort to save.

When Radahn was a boy, he mastered riding his horse. In his youth, he mastered the sword. But it was here in Sellia that a young man learned what real power was.

He walked through the town to remember why it meant so much to him. The tiny room he stayed in that he no longer fit in. The cliff that his Alabaster master threw him off forced the youth to use his magic in a panic. It was like he flew, and what more he could master meant he might overcome the very stars.

He said his last goodbyes before making his journey west to put himself in a position to intercept the Calamity.

As he rode over the crest of the hill, Radahn pulled his reigns to halt Leonard. Before him were banners and rows tidy of men - thousands of them - dressed in scarlet with a loose formation of sorcerers from Sellia. They snapped to attention the moment they saw their general. The knights lifted their visors in solute. They parted to allow space for Radahn to pass and bowed their heads as he walked by while uttering his title, "Captain."

Soon, they could not contain their excitement and erupted in cheer as they chanted, "Radahn, Radahn, Radahn, Radahn!"

Behind the ranks, was old Jerren who mentored Radahn on the art of warfare and stood at his side ever since. The man dressed more akin to a jester in a court, yet not one any sane man should hope to cross in combat. And he had thought he left him and the men at Redmane while Radahn looked to face the Calamity alone.

"Jerren," said Radahn. "I did not ask these men to come."

"I know," replied Jarren with a smile, "They came on their own."

They continued to chant and only quieted when Radahn faced them to address them.

"Gentlemen!" he said.

As the chants silenced, Radahn took a moment to think. He was never one for words, but these men deserved his best, "We have shared our labors. Shed our blood together. Today we come together. Be it known to all ye who gather, that my father Radagon had come to the gates of the Carian royal family, but made peace and went no further. Godfrey, the First Elden Lord went as far as subduing the giants. But today, I, the Red Lion will challenge the stars themselves, and put all things in order. I have no fear. Toil and risk are the price of glory, but it is a lovely thing to live with courage and die leaving everlasting fame. Hew me back into the Erdtree with a legacy echoes beyond this age!"

His men lifted their weapons in praise to their Champion at which Radahn turned away with his helmet under his arm.

"Pretty speech," said Jerren. "Just answer me one thing before you ride out on your tiny horse, general."

"What?"

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Radahn laughed, "Depends. Are you asking about war or women?"

Having caught Jerren without retort Radahn put on his helmet over his blazing red hair. Leonard trotted up to him and gave a nay as if to tell Radahn it was time to go. He hadn't planned on taking his horse with him, but as the steed followed him, Radahn realized he hadn't a choice. It did seem a little silly at the thought of a large man riding a tiny horse up in the heavens, but Radahn reasoned it would at least make a good constellation later.

He mounted Leonard and gave a breath. The heavens had already opened up and began shooting stars across the canopy.

It was time.

Radahn commanded Leonard forward, using his magic to ensure the horse did not grow burdened at his weight. Leonard gave it his all. Across Caelid's wilds, Radahn chased the stars under the violet sky. Behind, was Radahn's calvary, and behind them came his infantry. His archers and the sorcerers stayed behind.

The skies lit up with flashes like lightning as the shower came closer and closer.

Meteors lost their course and plummeted to the ground, and at their core were creatures from somewhere in the outer rims. Radahn maneuvered Leonard to dodge as they kicked up dust and debris. The wizards from Sellia cast their glint stone magic to strike down the smaller rocks and the winged creatures that sprang from them.

They cleared Radahn's path so that they might not impede Radahn's advance.

"Faster," cried Radahn and Leonard obeyed.

Leonard reeled up at an explosion of dust and debris in front of him. He shielded his eyes as the cloud rolled over him, blinding him in a swirling fog. And when he opened his eyes again, the creature of stone stood before him.

It was massive. Its head was that of a scarab and its body of an ox with its back adorned with a line of obsidian spikes. Its mandible was two large horns meant to crush its prey and a body of stone. It backed its way, wiggling its head as it threatened a charge.

Radahn sheathed his swords and lowered his head as he heeled Leonard to charge as the beast came barrelling forward.

The two titans slammed together, forcing a shockwave. When the dust settled down, Radahn and the monster were locked together. Radahn's hands clutched against the creature's mandibles to force them open. With a bellow, he picked the beast up and threw it aside.

It got up, shook its head, and then curled up like a wheel to come at him. Radahn dodged to the side and cast a spell that whipped the creature around his head before slamming it again into the ground, shattering its body to pieces.

Radahn stood a moment, breathing hard. His men continued to fight and the meteors continued to fall.

It was hopeless to fight one at a time as they continued to shower the wilds of Caelid. He had to do something to halt their advancement. And all he needed was something large enough in the heavens to push against.

One such stone shot over his head in a loud rumble as it headed towards Sellia. It must have matched the base of the Erdtree in diameter and a blazing trail of fire that headed directly for Sellia.

Radahn maneuvered Leonard to chase after it. He crossed the battlefield where his men hacked through the cosmetic armies.

He pushed Leonard harder to get ahead of the Calamity. Beads of sweat rolled down his face as he felt the intense heat of the meteor. When he managed to get ahead of it, Radahn used his magic to snag the calamity. He plunged one of his blades into its crust as deep as it might go. At once Radahn was off like a current he barely grabbed Leonard before the poor horse fell.

"Gah!" said Radahn as he gritted his teeth. His grip began to slip as he couldn't hold on to both it and Leonard.

Sellia was close. Radahn takes one of those seconds to cast a spell on Leonard. He closed his eyes as he released his friend in the hope he might fall safely.

He then composed himself with faith his friend was safe and turned his attention back on the calamity. Radahn gripped the sword with both hands and swung his feet, once, twice, three times before he found a toehold. Inch by agonizing inch, Radahn climbed the face of the meteor. Dust caught into his eyes and mouth. Each moment he balanced his magic to both preserve his strength and to ensure he had enough for what he thought to do.

When Radahn was in front, he cast his spell to push against the mass and expand the spell's range so that it might catch everything. It felt like two hands clasped Radahn between them as he increased his magic to slow the meteor. The speed began to push down on his bones. Blood dripped out from his eyes. His fingers grew numb as they dug into the icy surface.

The meteors began to get caught up within the force and swirl around Radahn and the meteor, but it continued to push itself forward.

The meteor started to glow red as it came into the atmosphere. His armor began to melt under the heat and burn into his skin. Radahn pulled back and began slamming the calamity with his shoulder, over and over again. And then with one last effort, his heart started to feel as though it was giving out.

More and more they began to catch up into a rotation and Radahn started to push the cloud of stone up into the stars. Time started to still and then halt. It wasn't just the shower of cosmic bodies that halted their course, but the stars themselves also stopped their rotation.

With all his strength spent, Radahn let go. One last spell to pull his body away from the mass that he had sent out into the expanse to return himself to the Lands-Between.

All below watched in awe as the stars halted in their place. The force of Radahn's will and magic had caused even the cosmos to obey him.

Stillness fell on the wilds. The fighting had stopped as everything was forced back by Radahn.

The Redmanes let out a cheer, but soon they muffled it in worry.

For where was their general?

A flash of light and Radahn's body plummetted into the ground in an echoing bang. Then, it was complete silence.

Radahn soon rose.

His armor melted down and his flesh burned from the friction of the sky. He stuttered forward, one labored step after another. And in his victory, Radahn gave a mighty bellow to mark that it was he who had scourged the stars and put them in their place.

I have conquered all my enemies,

And a celestial glory radiates from me.

Many from one and one from many,

Issue of a famous line, I rise

From the lowest to the highest.

the nethermost power of the world

Is united with the highest, therefore

I am the One and the Many within me,

Multiplying myself by ten. (Fabrcious, 169)

Chapter Text

"I warned you not to manipulate me," said Radagon.

He paced back and forth in front of the backdrop of the polished tin and copper alloy as it formed the perfect image of Marika. He kept his stone hammer to his side, but in his hand at the ready.

In the Place of Mirrors, which existed somewhere in the matrics deep within the Erdtree, they could see each other. It was a place familiar to the twins, yet they had no "memories" of it. It existed in a plane beyond that was past the illusion of bark, roots, and leaves in an uncountable infinity. A place where they were once "one" prima matter in a time before they "existed" in the Lands-Between; where they became two and underwent the dissolution in the Greater Will's magnum opus.

It moved its fingers about the Lands-Between. It held the sun in its right hand and the moon in its left in the eternal circulation of the work. It spun threads of life and death within the tree. Purifying the essence of life over and over again until it created the perfect matter.

The mother gave birth to the son and the son was also his father. The Winged Lioness conjoins with her mate, the Red Lion, and from their union comes the little cub. The virgin Luner Princess carries within her the secrets of the opus.

These were the visions given by the Two Fingers and the Greater Will. Grand visions of a grand purpose, but it all failed. Marika sensed it. They were all failures. Even the Greater Will. For all these visions were nothing more than lies.

In a moment, Radagon became the reflection, looking back at Marika who now stood on the plain.

"It will not work, Radagon. It hasn't worked."

Mariak was again the reflection.

"It would work if you hadn't insisted on halting the progress."

"What else can I do? Outside the vassal, there can be no control of the outcome."

"Whose vassal was it?"

"I did what I needed to do to free us both, Radagon," said Marika.

"Did you do something to them so they'd be born early?"

"No."

A lie.

"Did you pollute them?"

"No"

Another lie.

"Did you try to kill them?"

Marika fell to her knees under the burden of her sin.

"Why should I want them that comes from violence brought upon me?" said Marika.

Radagon swung his hammer and shattered Marika's reflection.

He swung it down again and again, breaking the fragments into smaller pieces. He lifted it one last time to see her face, still reflected on the glass.

Radagon paused with his hand held high before he let it drop. Her tears became his tears.

"In the virgin mirror of wisdom, the divine will recognizes itself and 'imagines from the underground in itself... and impregnates itself with imagination from wisdom as a mother without childbirth... and each is recognized in his nature and strength: for without opposition, nothing is revealed. No image appears in the clear glass." - J. Bohme, Theosophical Works, Amsterdam, 1682 (Roob, 210).

"Who is she that cometh forth as the rising dawn, fair as the moon?" At. fugiens, emblema XXIIII (M. Merian). Jong, pp 181-186. (Fabricius, 138)

"Thank you for coming. It's been one of her bad days," said Tricia.

Tricia was one of the few "mortals" permitted in the royal chambers where Marika's children resided. She knocked on Godwyn's door first, as he was Malenia's guardian. When Godwyn's man-servant advised he was not there, Tricia moved on to Rykard's door, and still no response. She finally knocked on Ranni's and the lady in waiting let her in. When Ranni inquired about the meaning of their interruption, Tricia told her and Ranni agreed to come at once.

"Of course. She is my sister too," said Ranni.

Ranni never showed affection to the twin Empyreans, hence why it was a surprise she came. When they went for walks out on the Altus Plateau, Ranni remained a silent observer while Godwyn minded them. It was hard to look at the children and not think about the state Radagon left Rennala. It was hard to watch Godwyn have to provide them with support and attention in the absence of their parents.

None of this was the twin's fault, of course. They didn't ask to be born under such circumstances. They were victims of "two-fingered schemes" as Rykard called it and deserved nothing short of support from all of them.

When they arrived at the door, Ranni noticed the wilted lily that was trampled on as physicians came and went. Miquella had been there. She picked it up and with a frown, she placed the lily on the table.

When Tricia opened the door, the first thing noticed was the horrid smell. It made the air seem thick and oddly warm. The source of the odor was putrid blood drained from Malenia to control a fever. Once they removed the soiled cloths, the miasma eased and allowed Ranni to breathe again, at least through her mouth. She avoided shedding a tear at the pathetic sight.

Malenia was curled up in a trembling heap on the bed with her thumb in her mouth. She was too old for that, but given the circumstances, no one was about to stop her. The curtains were closed as the light tended to bother the girl's inflamed eyes and to avoid the glances of passersby.

Malenia was born with a rare congenial version of the vile and ancient disease called the Scarlet Rot that started eating at her the moment she was born. Some believed it was a sign that the young empyrean had become a vassal for an outergod, but people said a lot of things. Either way, all the perfumer's floundering about with various concoctions only further served to prove the widespread ignorance of the condition.

At least Tricia was better than those arrogant Golden Order fundamentalists. Those fools acted as though Malenia stepped in some contaminated water, which was nothing a few preserving boluses or a cleansing spell couldn't handle. Part of Malenia's condition as it was, was a result of their arrogance.

Fire was the only effective weakness of the disease. Much of the stench came from the burned flesh of the cauterizing agents they applied to her open wounds. The bandages on her arms and legs were already soaked through with serum. But the perfumers didn't pretend that it was about to stop anything.

"Sweetie? Your big sister's here," said Tricia.

The moment Tricia laid a hand on Malenia, the girl went into a panic and let out a blood-curdling scream. "No! No!" she cried in fear of more cauterization.

When Ranni called her name, Malenia immediately cowarded into her sister's arms. She began begging for her mother.

"Hush little culver," whispered Ranni as she lifted Malenia out of bed. Malenia clung to Ranni for dear life as her frail tiny body trembled in fear. Ranni sat down in the nearby chair and rubbed Malenia's back to soothe her baby sister with a lullaby.

"Sleep tight, long time in mother's amber.

Sleep time, find life under mother's umbra."

The girl squirmed when Tricia came with some aromatics she wanted to try in hopes one might offer marginal relief. Malenia flinched when she unexpectedly inhaled a lung full of the burning powder. She began giving a hacking cough and kept wheezing, which Tricia used to administer more until Ranni asked her to stop unless it was necessary.

The last step in the beastly treatment was Tricia pricking Malenia's feet and hands to ensure the rot hadn't spread; as it tended to damage the feeling of pain first. Malenia flinched with each prick, except on her right hand. Tricia gave a disappointed head shake as she moved up the arm, pressing hard enough to pierce the skin with no reaction.

Malenia was calm in Ranni's arms. Once in awhile, she gave a sniffle and rubbed her bloodied nose with her hand. Malenia's angry breathing showed she was giving Tricia a stabbing glare.

"All done," cooed Tricia, pulling down her white mask. She stroked Malenia's red hair with a smile. "Are you doing better now having Big Sister hold you?"

Malenia gave an annoyed huff, turned her head, and snuggled against Ranni's shoulder to rest.

Tricia sighed "Unfortunately, the rot continues to eat at the sinew in her hand. I'm not sure we can do to save the limb."

Ranni nodded as she patted Malenia on the back.

Tricia chuckled and then said to Malenia. "My goodness. And they say your mother has a terrifying gaze. I know. I see you, dear. I understand you don't like me."

"I'd expect nothing less from Marika's daughter. Now be gone lest thee upset her further," said Ranni.

With the perfumers gone, Ranni sat Malenia down on the bed and began washing her sister’s face from all the blood. Malenia grew tense; sucking her thumb, and rocking to desperately soothe herself. Every noise caused a whimper, which Ranni reassured her that the perfumers were gone. Soon, Malenia's mind retreated and her eyes went to an unfocused gaze as Ranni removed her soiled clothes. She almost had to look away from Malenia’s withered frame, that was eaten cruelly by the rot. Ranni quickly dressed Malenia in a clean nightgown left by the perfumers. Malenia then flopped over in exhaustion.

Exhausted, Ranni climbed into the bed as well. She pulled Malenia close to her, kissed her sister's cheek, and then closed her eyes with a sigh.

But many men be moved to work after their fantasie,

In many subjects which be tinctures gay;

Both white and red divided manually

To sight, but in the fire they fly away;

Such break pots and glasses day by day,

Enpoisoning themselves and loosing their sights

With odours, smokes, and watching up by nights.

, -Three Works of Ripley. (The R.A.M.S Library of Alchemy Book 5).

Ranni woke with a gasp.

She hadn't been asleep that long. The sun was still out over the entire garden. Marika wished for Malenia to be able to see the outside, the Erdtree, within the beautiful gardens. Ranni wasn't sure if that was beneficial or cruel. However, the tree was beautiful.

Many described what it was like to stand in the presence of the Erdtree. How it caused a swelling in the breast and an increase in faith. Despite it being seen from everywhere in the Lands-Between, pilgrims came to the Leyndell to touch its bark and perhaps have a glimpse of the goddess Queen Marika herself.

Ranni couldn't blame them. Piety went a long way Leyndell and Ranni admired the concept of believing for its own sake, which she could never fully bring herself to do. It was this way of thinking that caused Queen Marika to remain largely inaccessible to most, as faith required a belief in something not seen, yet the evidence of its existence was indirectly observed. It could not be measured or quantified. It was an essence beyond anything, as Ranni's father described, back when she still knew him.

Poets sang of her. Artisans did their best to represent her. But none knew her. Not even after all these years, could Ranni say she truly knew Marika. Their conversations were brief and direct if Marika chose to speak at all. Most of what she had to say, she deligated for her Lord to say for her, as it was the duty of the Elden Lord to be her "presence."

Ranni spotted Marika in the gardens as she glided across the grass towards the tree. She was tempted to wake Malenia and tell the girl that she saw her mother, but decided against it. Rest was far more important. If Marika followed her normal routine, she would soon come to check in on Malenia herself.

Instead, she decided to wash up a bit and get some air. Radahn was expected to arrive that day and there was a special ceremony tomorrow. Perhaps she might get a moment of Marika's time where she can advise of Malenia's condition - which concerning Malenia, Marika was always inclined to hear.

She gave one last check on her sister who was curled up and maybe having a bit of a nightmare.

The moment Ranni stepped out into the garden, she sensed something was off. Her mother had taught her to observe the stars, even for the most minute movements of their course. Though it was still too light for them to appear in the night sky, Ranni sensed their presence.

They seemed different. Lifeless, even. Ranni stared up at the sky.

"Gotcha!"

Ranni jumped when strong arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her in the air.

"Godwyn!" she exclaimed.

With a laugh, Godwyn put her down and Ranni playfully slapped him.

"How dare thee! I have no chaperone," said Ranni.

"Then there's no one to stop me," said Godwyn as he leaned in for a deep kiss on the lips. Ranni reciprocated by wrapping her arms around Godwyn's neck. When they broke off, Godwyn placed his forehead against hers with a grin.

"Thou art a beast," said Ranni.

"Then I must entreat thee to pardon me, Luner Princess."

"And what's this?" said Ranni as she noticed his blackened left eye.

"A disagreement. Over fine wines. Such is an important question," said Godwyn.

Ranni pulled away from him and shook her head.

At first, Ranni was upset about the arrangement, as she seemed to have no say in the matter. She knew Godwyn as an immature boy who liked to show off his strength and settle disputes by wrestling the poor mortals who crossed him. And this was not including the rumors of bad behavior that caused Ranni's brothers to insist on a chaperone any time the youth met, lest the cad defile their beloved sister.

Godwyn always showed Ranni respect, which allowed her to look past her beloved's many flaws. And she did call him "beloved" in her private thoughts. He respected her. He did not insist she speak in a casual dialect as Ranni did not wish to forget who she was. They were rarely alone, but when they were, he knew to keep his hands off her.

"I did win," said Godwyn, rather sheepishly. "By the by, your friend Sully..."

"Seluvis?"

"The shady one in the big hat."

"That is Seluvis."

"He said that I ought to give you this. He said it was urgent," said Godwyn.

"Urgent? What is the matter concerning?"

"Come now. I may be a scoundrel, but I do not read my fair lady's mail," replied Godwyn.

"By the by, where were thou? The perfumers had come in search of thee to sit by thy sister's sick bed," said Ranni.

Godwyn frowned.

"Is she well?"

"Not by any stretch of the imagination, my fair consort. But she's resting for the moment."

"I'll tell my mother and sit with her for a time. And..." said Godwyn, kissing her hand. "...leave my dear fiancee's virtue intact."

When Godwyn left to inform his mother, Ranni couldn't help a bit of a smile. Perhaps, despite the marriage being arranged, things might be happy between the two.

She then examined the letter to see that Seluvis's seal was left intact, indicating that Godwyn respected her privacy, regardless of what he thought about some of her inner circle. Another trait that placed him above other potential suitors.

With a bit of magic, she broke the seal and opened the parchment.

Radahn has stopped the stars.

Ranni's face turned pale as she read the line over and over again. Surely, some joke, but Seluvis hadn't a single funny bone in his entire body.

She was trembling by the time she arrived back in her chambers. She dismissed all her attendants before they had time to ask if something was the matter. As soon as she was alone, Ranni fell to her knees and screamed.

Chapter Text

It had been some time since Radahn was last in Leyndell. Truth, he wasn't too fond of the place. It was full of the political types, which he never had patience for. He felt more at home in Caelid, where people lived much simpler lives that were focused on farming which Leyndell residences often looked down upon. Those of Leyndell boasted of their closeness to the Marika herself and in all fairness that was true. In her public life, she was the Goddess Eternal.

But in being her stepson, Radahn was privy to a more private Marika. While the Goddess Eternal showed her strength and power among her worshippers, she preferred another title that was almost unknown to anyone who did not know her personally: the Bestower; and that was a power wielded by the farmers, not the nobility.

She instilled this trait in her son Miquella; Radahn's half-brother, whom Radahn deeply respected.

Upon hearing of his victory over the stars, Marika called Radahn back. So he traveled alone with Jerren, leaving his soldiers to continue to protect the region.

"What a foul day this is," said Jarren. He held out his hand to catch the falling rain.

On the road, he spotted the form of a hunched woman, sitting on a stool of sorts. She was barefoot and in her hand was a staff. Radahn found it odd that she was there, as though she was waiting for him. Yet she was like a mummified corpse from the days before Marika with no eyes in its sockets.

"What are you to stand here out in such bad weather?" said Radahn. "Can't you find another place to interpret the words of the fingers?"

"Ahh... come here. Let me see them. Let me see thy fingers, General Radahn," said the crone.

Radahn pulled off his glove and held out his hand for the crone to read.

"Why do you call me General Radahn? I haven't that title," said Radahn.

"Hail the Son of Radagon. Hail also the son of Marika," said the Crone.

The crone continued:

"The winged lioness joins with her mate and thus is born the genuine and generous little lion. However, not any lioness can do battle with this lion. Only the winged lioness may take up battle; trusting the wings of her speed so she will not be too much suppressed by its excessive anger, but contemplate flight if the lion should fly into passion." -Barchusen. p.504 (adapted. Fabricius 44, 48).

"How is this possible?" Radahn asked. "My mother is Rennala of the Full Moon, the last queen of Caria. And I have no betrothed."

He gave a barrage of questions, but they were all unanswered The crones say what they say and nothing more. And what they said was the shutters of the Two-Fingers.

Radahn was still looking at his hand when he returned to Jerren and Leonard.

"What was that all about?"

"I'm not sure," replied Radahn.

The... snake is the cosmic spirit which brings everything to life, which also kills everything and takes all the figures of nature. To Summarize: He is everything, and also nothing." (Roob, 331)

Rykard sat on the throne under the Erdtree with a smirk on his lips. They said anyone who sat in that seat without first the title of Lord, was doomed to be devoured and so of course with no one around, Rykard had to try it. He sat on it, stood on it, even flatuated on it. (Did even gods do that? Who knows?) Either way, it seemed either the Greater Will was not there or it was unattentive because no leviathan or other great creature came from the depths to swallow him.

He was lying out with his feet on the armrests as he thought for a moment about what the world might be like without the dogmas of the Golden Order. Ranni wouldn't be married to that golden-haired simpleton. Champions might be chosen for their actual skill instead of whether they kissed the ancient relics often enough. Miquella and Malenia might see something alleviate their curses. They did have a healthy helping of "thoughts and prayers" which worked about as well as anyone with a functional brain would expect.

"That's not your throne."

Rykard let out a startled gasp.

"Brother!"

Radahn was still a little worse than wear from his battle with the heavens. His arm was in a sling with one of his eyes blackened. He walked with a limp which was an improvement from nearly bedridden.

No one expected that a mere meteor would put up such a fight, but no one ever fought one before either.

"I would kiss you, but I wouldn't want to soil the dignity of the queen's favored champion," said Rykard.

"Come here," laughed Radahn.

The brothers embraced. When they let go, Radahn pointed to their two respected thrones to sit on.

"How is everything?" Radahn asked. "How are you?"

"You know, so many heretics, so little time," shrugged Rykard. "Then there's rumors of a few omens popping up in unexpected places. Hear of that?"

"I haven't. I don't care either."

"That's right. You're busy chasing meteors."

Radahn grinned but then the smile wiped away. He asked the obvious, "How's Ranni?

"Well... She is Ranni. And I'd stay out of her path for quite a while if I were you," said Rykard. He took Radahn's shoulder. "Come on."

"Why?" said Radahn.

"We all know that tree has ears," said Rykard.

It wasn't a secret that Marika had her eyes and ears everywhere in the palace, so it was a little silly that Rykard thought they could merely move elsewhere. Still, if it made his brother feel better, Radahn felt best to go along with it.

"I didn't do any of this to make her happy," said Radahn. "That's Godwyn's job."

"Yes. The two are quite happy. Perfect match. Now we just have to make sure Ranni never finds out Godwyn the Golden can't stop squirting his golden seed into every hole he finds."

"Careful with such rumors, Brother," warned Radahn.

"Or what? Listen, Radahn this whole thing isn't working. Marika can make us her demigod stepchildren and give us thrones before the Erdtree, but in the end, we are oil and water. Mix the two and we end up floating on the top like some scum. We had everything riding on a single trump card, and you just discarded it."

"What do you want me to do? Let those people die?"

"Release the stars, Radahn! Let the moon wax and wane in its natural order so Ranni can do what Empyreans do and succeed Marika with an order that doesn't need these ridiculous outer gods and their silly trees."

"Rykard that is a dark path to tread."

"And that's maybe what we need. I sometimes think that we've treaded in sunlight so long, that people forget shadows even exist," said Rykard.

From the rampart, Radahn could see the gazebo where Ranni and Godwyn sat. She looked upset with her arms crossed and ranting as she often did. Godwyn put his arm around her which she leaned into. Her chaperone was the half-man, half-wolf Blaidd stood some distance away to ensure that the couple had a private conversation.

"Can we at least wait and see what Father makes of this?" Radahn asked.

"Because we all know that Father thinks. He worships the Golden Order. He'd be overcome in religious fervor to see that there's not even a chance that Ranni breaks her word while Marika ascends to a higher plain, whatever that means," said Rykard.

"What's it to you, if I may ask?"

"Honestly, nothing. I'd just rather not keep brokering peace between you two. Especially, since I'm always the one who ends up with a black eye," said Rykard.

Radahn put his arm around Rykard, "No worries, brother. I'll talk to her after the assembly. Let her know that sometimes things are meant for this generation but for the next."

"Ha! Could you imagine her having a brood with that halfwit Godwyn?"

"She could have done worse. What's that I hear about you and a group of foreign dancers?"

Rykard frowned, "Rumors, brother. Rumors."

Chapter Text

Miquella was slumped over with his head resting on his desk.

Surrounding him were borrowed books full of formulas and fundamentalist theories, and crumpled pieces of paper with notes that were scribbled, crossed out, then corrected. He began his work, in his childlike mind, that he could achieve advantage over what had stumped even the most brilliant fundamentalist minds. He was at it for months, even before that awful day at Malenia's door. But as he studied, Miquella found himself overwhelmed by both the scale of the task and the lack of helpful resources.

There were mentions of the "rotting sickness" and "scarlet death" in the old records that Miquella could, with reasonable deduction, assume was the disease that plagued his sister. Most were momentary mentions tucked away in fables. There was a lengthy epic poem about a blind hero given a sword by a fairy and sealing away an outer god of rot, but other than a fun story, it offered little value. The best source was the brief writen by a unknown scholar, but it composed only of observations while passing through a town plagued by it. The scholar assumed it was a waterborne illness caused by small microbes that gave the water a red hue and so dubbed it the name "scarlet rot" and described some of the symptoms, but that was all.

Interesting, but none of it described Malenia's condition. Where the disease was easily treated by bolases or cleansing spells, neither of those things was successful.

"Son?"

Miquella lifted his head to see his father.

"Hello, Papa," Miquella replied as he rubbed his eye.

"What are you doing?" Radagon asked.

"I just want to help Malenia. But I can't find anything in the books," said Miquella.

"What's this?" Radagon asked. He picked up a bottle used by the perfumers.

"Oh, Tricia gave it to me to look at. I had her come here. Malenia says she's wicked, but I think she just wants to help. She just doesn't know how," said Miquella.

He spent hours interviewing the perfumer, which flattered Tricia to see great interest in such a young mind. He asked her all sorts of questions, not just about the known paradigms of the scarlet rot, but of the fundamentals in the art of healing. Miquella was fascinated, astonished even, by the general difference between the theories presented by the fundamentalists and the actual practice of medicine done by the perfumers.

Of Malenia's disease, Tricia explained that while it was true, that most people came into contact with the rotting sickness through contaminated red water, Malenia's unique symptoms seemed more in line with a disease "of the blood". Blood was related to water, Tricia further explained and theorized that Malenia's was somehow infected before she was born. A cure was likely impossible but bloodletting seemed to offer Malenia the most, albeit temporary, relief.

They went off on quite a few tangents where she talked about those said to carry curses from contact with the crucible and how their treatment was challenging due to lack of resources. Much of what the perfumers knew, was passed down from master to apprentice, with very little written down, and often information was lost. Miquella suggested that perhaps all the perfumers ought to come together and compile their combined knowledge into volumes.

"Look. I made this sleeping spell," said Miquella. "Tricia said she'll try it next time and maybe it'll help Malenia could sleep when they help her."

"Son," said Radagon. "The perfumers have done a fine job, but they don't always understand that some things are meant to be in their proper cycle."

Miquella gave a puzzled look.

"Remember how the sun rises and sets," said Radagon.

"Yes."

"And the birds. The sparrows come out in the day and the owls come out at night."

"Yes."

"What if the sparrows decided that they would rather not be put off and have the sun stay out forever? Is that fair to the owls?"

"But..."

"What do we always learn? That everything is governed by order," said Radagon.

Miquella wrinkled his brow, "What does that have to do with Malenia being sick?"

Radagon had no answer. He finally kissed Miquella on the cheek and said, "Well, you should be pleased to know who wants to play today."

Miquella gasped in delight and dashed outside his door.

Radagon looked at the papers on Miquella's desk and frowned. He grabbed Miquella's notes and tore them in half.

Malenia was out in the "wild garden" which was a small section that neither guards nor groundskeepers were permitted to tend to. So it grew without restraint until it was thick with natural bushes and trees that were unkempt and yet beautiful in their own right.

It was in this place where the young Empyrean enjoyed the company of a certain Mr. Margit. He was a strange, eccentric sort that everyone denied existed save Miquella. Anyone else Malenia told, all dismissed her experience as the rot's influence taking hold of her mind. Her poor eyesight meant she could provide no description, other than how he smelled like a damp dog.

His smell didn't bother Malenia as others have said the same about her; albeit they were nicer and merely said she smelled "strange." Even at that young age, Malenia concluded that a foul smell meant someone suffered and deserved empathy.

Mr. Margit's company was much appreciated as often Radagon had Miquella occupied elsewhere for his education. For Malenia, her frequent illness meant a disrupted education to the point where Mr. Margit was the only one who taught her about anything.

He introduced her to the concept of life, death, and rebirth as the primary power of the Erdtree. Order, particularly the Golden Order, effectively brought an end to death's unpredictable and finite nature. But Malenia never held much interest in these as she did about the overall history of the Lands-Between and Margit's claim that his father was a great warrior and hero in the days before the Erdtree. Malenia wasn't aware there was an age before the Erdtree as the way her father spoke, he'd suggest there wasn't.

"My father is a warrior too," said Malenia.

"Yes. He is the Great Radagon of the Golden Order and Elden Lord," said Margit.

Malenia couldn't say much more than that as she was rarely well enough to spend any significant time with Radagon. As the scarlet rot worsened and her prognosis grim, her parents' time was in a constant division between herself and her brother.

Margit took Malenia under the chin and looked her over.

"What?" said Malenia.

"Thou lookest like the Fair Lady who came oft to the dark place after she married Radagon," said Margit. "Do not allow thy curse to distract thee from what thou art; the daughter of a warrior and a goddess. The place of us cursed souls may not be pleasant, but it serves its purpose."

"What purpose does always being sick have?" scoffed Malenia.

"Thou art an Empyrean. The Two-Fingers will reveal thy path," said Mr. Margit.

No sooner had Margit left, that Malenia heard the cry, "Little Sister! Little Sister!"

Malenia limped toward the sound of his voice but didn't get too far. In his excitement, Miquella embraced Malenia knocking them both to the ground in a giggling heap. Malenia tickled her brother, which caused Miquella to curl up in a laughing frenzy and beg her to stop.

They soon both lay on the grass, trying to catch their breath as they held hands.

"Miquella, are there any clouds today?" Malenia asked.

Miquella couldn't see beyond the thick canopy of the wild garden, so he lied and said there were.

"What do they look like?" Malenia asked.

Again, Miquella made something up and said one looked like Leonard.

"Even his skinny legs?" Malenia giggled.

"Yes," replied Miquella.

He made up other stories too. One looked like Fortissax, and those sheep that rolled up on balls every time they got scared. He said there were birds. Lots and lots of birds swirl around the cerulean sky. The twins told each other stories with no plotlines but stuffed in as much nonsense as two children could think.

Soon Malenia let go of Miquella's hand and rolled to her side.

"What's the matter?" Miquella asked.

"I'm tired," Malenia replied.

Miquella kissed his sister's cheek and laid his head down on her shoulder with a smile. She smelled of the earth, particularly the rich black soil that nurtured his beloved lilies.

"I love you, Little Sister," said Miquella.

Her breathing, which started as deep, constant, and robust, soon grew raspy and shallow. Miquella snapped his head up and tried to shake Malenia awake. She gave some muttering.

"Oh no," said Miquella.

In a panic, Miquella grabbed Malenia's hand where he felt a wet snap in her fingers. Miquella dropped her hand which landed misshaped on the ground with a thud. A white, frayed bone stuck out from the torn skin as a black liquid oozed out from the wound.

Miquella stared at the lifeless arm that didn't look like it belonged to his sister. It was stiff with a dull gold hue to the skin. And the smell was a disgusting stench. His mouth opened, but nothing seemed to come out.

"Oh, little one. No one is here and no one is coming," said Mr. Margit.

Without saying a word, Mr. Margit scooped up Malenia and cradled her in the crook of his arm. He then took Miquella's hand and led the children out of the wild garden.

The moment Mr. Margit laid Malenia down on the manicured grass where she and Miquella could be found, the guards were on top of him. They kicked and beat the "filthy omen" until he fell to the ground.

"I am her son! I am her son!" Margit cried.

"Stop!" said Miquella. "He didn't do anything wrong!"

The boy's cries distracted the guards long enough for Margit to slip away into the wild garden where they were forbidden to follow.

Tricia had come at this point and had her assistant carry Malenia back inside.

"Please, don't hurt her anymore. Please," begged Miquella.

Tricia knelt in front of Miquella and placed an arm on his shoulder.

"I promise, we will do what we can to make your sister comfortable," said Tricia.

Miquella pulled from his pocket the sleeping drought he designed and handed it to Tricia.

Godwyn came shortly after and the moment Miquella saw him, he threw himself in his brother's arms. Every emotion Miquella held inside came flooding out in tears. The anger, frustration, confusion, and fear - all long-suppressed to cultivate an image - were at least given their time to be present.

Godwyn called for his fiancee and asked that Ranni check in on Malenia. Gather whatever news, any news, good or bad. He then led his younger brother to a bench where they could talk.

Miquella talked and Godwyn listened.

Miquella's separation from his twin was taking its toll. She was his soul friend and playmate and not for lack of trying on the part of the Golden Order. They tried to introduce the boy to other youngsters in the interest of bonding him with a shadow, but Miquella rejected all of them.

"An empyrean cannot be a shadow. And how would she learn to fight to protect you?"

Radagon's stance was that Miquella would bond to a shadow in his own time. For now, do what they can to keep Malenia as healthy as possible if only to make Miquella happy.

"You shouldn't fret, Little Brother," said Godwyn. He wiped a tear from Miquella's eye. "We all love Malenia."

"Father doesn't!" exclaimed Miquella. "He only cares about the Golden Order. Everything Tricia tries has to first follow his stupid precious Golden Order. And it's not fair."

"Miquella, don't say that out loud."

"Why not? Someone has to," said Miquella.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go find Mr. Margit and make sure he's okay. At least he cares."

Ranni came out of the palace at this time and asked where Miquella was going.

"He has to figure this out himself," said Godwyn. "How's our sister?"

"In poor shape. They do not believe they can save the arm this time."

Godwyn pulled Ranni in close for a hug.

The wild garden wasn't a large area, but it had confusing paths of overgrowth. Still, if Malenia managed to find her way through it, Miquella didn't feel he would have any problem. He came soon to the spot where he and Malenia played. Already, there was a patch of yellowed grass where his sister lay.

Further in the woods, Miquella heard weeping. Not surprising how poorly those fanatical guards treated poor Mr. Margit. Maybe Tricia might have something to help him too.

He pulled back the weeds but soon hid himself.

Margit was there, on his knees with his face in his hand as he cried. Before, Miquella hadn't had an opportunity to look at him, but now he saw the twisted horns, gray fur, and long, torn cape, it terrified him. Margit was an animal! One that Miquella had never seen before. Yet oddly human at the same time.

There was also Queen Marika. She stood over Margit with her face covered over by her long blond hair and one hand rested on the creature's head. Despite his horns Marika embraced Margit and allowed him to cry in her boosum. Margit wrapped his arms around her waist like a young child looking for comfort.

"Mama," Margit sobbed.

Know, my Friend, that impure and defiled things are not fit for our work; for their Leprosy, can be no help in our operations; that which is good is hindered by that which is impure. - Basil Valentine (Alchemist)

Chapter Text

The assembly of the Demigods took place under the canopy of the Erdtree.

Radahn waited out by the walkway where he hoped he might catch Ranni before they made it to the assembly. Previous attempts to talk with her were all, understandably, turned away.

He understood how she felt. To hear her whole life how fate, her fate, was written in the very stars and to see them halted in their path might call into question her ability to succeed Marika at all. He understood Rykard's concern that without Ranni able to fulfill her destined purpose, the Golden Order was one more step closer to disposing of the lot of them in the name of their own self-preservation.

Radahn had a long conversation with his father about these concerns and Radagon offered, what Radahn hoped, was at least a token that the Golden Order had no intent to dispose of the Carian siblings.

"She could be so stubborn sometimes," sighed Radahn.

Radahn had, for some time, gone over the entire conversation in his mind and what he would say to Ranni. But even as he spotted her walking toward the throne room in the company of Godwyn, he felt apprehension.

Though she didn't look it, Ranni was dangerous. She held secrets that Rykard and himself only speculated, and Godwyn seemed blissfully unaware. Whatever it was she knew, or thought she knew, it was enough to cause Marika to conceed for Ranni to have her so-called "Age of Stars" when she ascended, whatever that meant. And like all good secrets, Ranni was wise enough not to reveal it to anyone else.

"I chased meteors across the skies and I can't even bring myself to speak with my own sister," laughed Radahn.

Radahn spotted young Miquella walking in front of his brother and sister with his head lowered. Radahn approached him first. He knelt down in front of Miquella and put his hands on the boy's shoulders, "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," said Miquella.

"It's okay not to be fine after what happened. I tell you what? Leonard needs a bit of exercise and I think you'd be just the perfect person to help. Would you like that?" Radahn asked.

Miquella absently nodded but didn't look up at his brother.

"Hadn't thy horse exercise enough in chasing after a few wayward stars?" said Ranni.

"Lunar Princess Ranni," said Radahn.

"Captain Radahn," Ranni replied.

"What I did, I had to do. It's not just you, but for everyone," said Radahn.

"If it's the lives of others that concern thee, then why not ask Queen Marika to weave them back into being with a bit of grace as she claims she can bestow? Or has she less power over it and the Elden Ring as she'd have us believe," said Ranni.

Even Godwyn started to look uncomfortable and scratched the back of his head to keep himself from saying anything.

"That wouldn't stop what was about to come," replied Radahn.

"I think you should go," suggested Godwyn.

Radahn's calm temperament fell away in a surge of anger.

"I see you're nothing like your father," growled Radahn.

"You didn't know my father," Godwyn replied.

"I know enough to understand that he was a man who created and left you a great legacy. It's a shame his son is more interested in sticking his cock in my sister than he is in carrying on what his parents had built," said Radahn.

"And thou wouldst have everything the same for how it serves him," said Ranni. She held Miquella close to her, "But look to those whom the order does not benefit. Look at our half-sister who is suffering. Look at our half-brother who never grows. All the secrets it requires us all to keep, lest we place a small spot of blemish on that pristinely polished gold leaf. But go ahead. Take thy titles and stature as thou covetest. Pretend all that this illusion of order is sustainable while the tree rots from its roots."

"Please, stop fighting," begged Miquella. "Father is bringing us together to talk about it. So we shouldn't be fighting."

"Fine," huffed Ranni. "We'll see what Father has to say. Come, Godwyn."

But Radahn couldn't help but have the final say.

"You'd be better off if you didn't have my sister roping you around all day. Too bad you need her to fight all your battles," said Radahn.

Godwyn turned and with a smile replied, "Isn't she something?"

The demigods soon all seated themselves on their respected thrones. Three for the Carian Royal Family and the children of Radagon and Renalla. One throne for Godwyn the Golden, son of Marika and the First Elden Lord Godfrey. Two for the Twin Prodigies Miquella and Malenia, children Marika and Radagon. But one of those seats was vacant and poor Miqulla was barely focused.

Radagon soon took his seat on the final throne as the Elden Lord. All rose at his entry and all sat again when he was seated.

"This is a matter of great importance," said Radagon. "Know that when I speak, I speak for Queen Marika herself; the vassal of the Elden Ring and Goddess of the Lands-Between."

"And where is Queen Marika?" Ranni asked. "If she has a voice, then let her use it and tell us all in person what it is she desires."

"Peace, daughter. It is not thy time to speak," said Radagon.

"We all knoweth the matter. What good shalt it serve to review it all the way through? I speak to what Marika had promised me and the entirety of the Carian Royal Family. To allow the stars to continue to be halted is a violation of that promise that was spoken in her own words," said Ranni.

"It was thy own brother who hath halted the stars, not the Golden Order," said Radagon.

"It was not the mear halting of the stars for its own sake. It was an invasion, me Lord," said Radahn.

"By whom?"

"We do not know. The sorcerers of Sellia are searching, but our sources are limited."

"Of course they are," groaned Rykard. "Any observations of the stars we would likely have to search the libraries of Raya Lucaria. And even then, it's not likely to contain any real answers."

"It matters not if there's answers or not. The threat comes from the stars and it can be overcome in the stars. I can halt them. All of them. And I can hold them indefinitely," boasted Radahn. "Thus, we needn't no longer fear what may lie within them."

"Oh, look at the little cub making his tiny little roar in search of his own glory. He careth not whether this matter affects other people," said Ranni.

"I know that there would be a thousand people dead already if not for my intervention, dear Sister."

"Thousands to save billions," said Ranni.

"Thou can not claim thy Age of Stars will do anything of the sort," said Radahn.

"Peace, all!" said Radagon. "I must make my decisions based on what is known now. If we are to know that there comes an invasion of the stars, then it is for us to halt such an invasion. Lest there be lives and homes lost in the conflict."

"And what of those who would benefit to keep them moving? Are we now of less importance?"

"I'm afraid, daughter, I cannot satisfied by speculation alone."

"It is no speculation, Father. No age lasts forever. This Golden Order will not be an exception. In the past ages have waxed and waned under bloodshed, but there is no reason for that. If we allow the passing to come at its proper time, then all will come in peace. But if thou continues to hinder what thou hast no right to even command, the penalty of such a delay will accrue over time."

"That is thine opinion, Ranni."

"That is the truth! It has always been the truth. I have kept my promise to the Golden Order and to Marika. I see not why she is so determined to shrug off the responsibility to carry out hers. Was it not in her own words that she said we ought to make of ourselves what we desire?"

"What about the invasion? What can be done about that? If we do nothing, the new age will be under some cosmic will," said Rykard.

"Let us join together to fight it. The Carians, the Golden Order, and the twin Prodigies. Our combined might is surely more powerful than what threat awaits in the stars," said Ranni.

"Limgrave will for sure offer support," said Godwyn.

"A full-scale attack will be far too costly. If the goal is to save lives, this will not accomplish that," said Radahn.

"I barely have anything that I could spare. My troops are spread thin and my funds are limited," said Rykard. "And if thou thinkth the fighting within Raya Lucaria is terrible, I can venture to say the fighting within Leyndell isn't so much improved."

A messenger came in and whispered something in Radagon's ear before he waved them away.

"Alright," said Radagon. "I have heard all sides to the argument. Ranni, I am in disagreement that the Golden Order will not endure. Even if thou art right, the relations between the Golden Order and Liurnia are far too frayed for them to hold against such a threat. And that being the heart of our defense, I cannot take such a risk. So, with this being an action we all must act quickly on, Radahn, kneel before me."

Radahn rose from his throne and bowed before his father and the throne of the Elden Lord.

"Radahn, my son, I appoint thee 'General' and protector of the Lands-Between from this threat. A Starscourge if thy will. With full authority, do what thou must. And all of you, I implore you to remain in secret to these matters. Lest it cause panic where none needs to be," said Radagon. "As for my children, Radahn, Rykard, and Ranni, I understand that ye have a fear that with the stars halted, thy influence is in question. Queen Marika has no intent to dissolve the marriage arranged between Ranni and Godwyn. The Golden Order has also approved placing in the care of the Carians, specifically Radahn, the hand of Marika's Empyrean offspring, Malenia when she comes of age. All are dismissed."

Radahn made one more effort to approach Ranni. She leaned over the balcony, looking out over the rotunda. Obviously angry and when she was angry she only ever wanted solitude.

The promise she made to Marika was a simple one between two women: Ranni could usher in whatever age she saw fit, so long as she honored her marriage to Godwyn. It was a sensible request of mutual benefit. Whatever Marika's plans were in her so-called "ascension" the marriage assured her own line endured as rulers in the Lands-Between. It made it clear that Marika understood the Golden Order's time was limited, at least back then. The fact she was not there to speak on her promise or answer for why she chose to withdraw it, was nothing short of a personal insult to the princess.

This wasn't mentioning the offer of giving Malenia to Radahn. It only affirmed Ranni's long-held suspicion: that Miquella, not Ranni - the child crafted and set aside as the most powerful empyrean - was now to ascend.

"Sister, I'm sorry."

"I hope thou art happy General and that there be anything left of thy empyrean bride by the time she comes of age," snarled Ranni.

"Watch thy tongue, witch," said Radahn.

"If thou canst see that thou art being played for a fool. To give unto thee the weaker one."

"I asked for Malenia."

"Oh, so thou was given thy pick from the litter, I see. Intend to make some offshoots of thyself? I hope the only thing they inherit from thee is thy red hair."

"Hast thou ever thought that perhaps thine Age of Stars was not the proper age to succeed?"

"Or maybe I'm clever enough to figure the entire gambit was intended to place Miquella on that throne to carry on this antiquated Golden Order."

"What is wrong with that?" Radahn asked.

Ranni raised an eyebrow.

"Sister, can't you for once leave yourself out of this?" Radahn begged.

"I am not going to waste my time arguing with thee. Enjoy thy new title and look forward to thy bride. And pray be thee lucky not to have her scarlet rot devour thy mind as well," said Ranni.

She stormed off.

"Well," said Rykard approaching Radahn with a glass of wine in his hand. "She took it better than I thought."

"I'm not in the mood for your jokes, Brother," said Radahn.

"It's not a joke. I'm here to commend you for at least trying to preserve our interests for a change. And you only had to ruin Ranni's life to achieve it."

If that the nature of the whole world remained,

Only in one state, form, or quality

And other forms could not by Art be gained,

The wonders of the world would cease to be.

And Natures mysteries would not be raised,

For whose discoveries let God be praised. (Valentine, 199)

Chapter Text

Miquella's heart pounded and he rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he followed Godwyn towards the Queen's Bedchamber. He kept asking Godwyn, who was with Malenia the whole time, "Is she better now?"

Tricia, who was with them, replied, "She did very well. She was asleep the whole way through, so didn't feel any pain."

Miquella was elated to hear his sleep spell was of some use, and his imagination began to run wild. He thought of the other issues that Tricia had brought up during their long conversations and what he learned during his readings. There was the issue of the rot contaminating bandages, which caused reinfection. The wrapping and rewrapping of injuries took a significant amount of the perfumer's time and was the main reason why Malenia's "bad days" often turned into weeks. There had to be something the rot could not contaminate that could also be used to treat Malenia's wounds.

Miquella looked at Tricia, who paused and began to shake.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said.

"Okay. You should come. I'm sure mother would want to thank you."

"I-I um... don't think so."

"It's alright, Miquella. Today was the first time Tricia had ever met a goddess. It's a bit overwhelming."

Marika was as far beyond demigods as demigods were beyond mortals. And for Marika to appear suddenly, unannounced, as Tricia was already exhausted from the lengthy surgery, was overwhelming. She had barely grasped what was happening when Marika asked her if she was finished. Thunderstruck, Tricia croaked out a barely audible "yes." Marika then glided past her, looked at Malenia, and perhaps said something (though Tricia wasn't sure), before leaving with the unconscious child in her arms. Tricia couldn't even describe the goddess if she wanted to. She could have even sworn it was a man she was talking to, as silly as that was.

Something was terrifying about the encounter that Tricia had decided she didn't wish to see the goddess again and asked to be excused.

When they arrived at the threshold of the bed chamber, Miquella paused and looked up at his brother as he now was the uncertain one.

Marika sat on the stone bed with a scroll on her lap and her eyes closed as though in a deep, contemplative thought. Her mind drifted to and from a certain level of consciousness; first to being aware and then to an almost dream-like meditation where she saw revelations of the things both within and beyond the fog. Not even the wisest could say what it was within this matric; things that were, things that are, and things that were yet to come to pass all revealed themselves at once to her.

And yet, within the deep confines of her mind, there was a far more simple, and relatable aspect to Marika. Though she remained a practical stranger to Miquella, he had heard her laugh and seen her cry. There were things, more earthy things, that she enjoyed. She had an addiction to the written word and a hunger to absorb every shred of knowledge contained within their pages. And she remembered everything she read. Her entire bed chamber was stacked full of old stone tablets and numerous scrolls. Once, she went into a rage when she requested a particular text and what was presented was a piece translated into the common tongue. A goddess who knew all languages, couldn't be bothered with translations that often lost their meaning.

Godwyn greeted her first with a bow.

"Mother? I brought Miquella as you asked," he said. He approached Marika and placed a kiss on her cheek before he beckoned Miquella to come.

While Miquella saw his mother almost every day, in intimate settings such as this, it was rare.

"It's okay, darling. You may enter," said Marika. Her voice sounded cold and detached. Almost like she had requested a small trinket, but wasn't entirely focused on it.

"Go on," said Godwyn as he placed his hand on Miquella's back to encourage him. "It's only Mother."

When Miquella came close enough for Marika to take his hand, and run her finger through his blond hair, he noticed the form curled up under a blanket next to her. The moment he heard a whimper, Miquella burst out with an excited, "Little Sister!"

"Not so loud," said Marika. "She's not fully awake yet."

She turned her attention to Malenia and said, "Shhh... It's okay, beloved. Miquella and Godwyn are here."

"Hello, Little Sister," said Godwyn as he rubbed Malenia's head. "How are you feeling?"

Malenia opened one eye, looked at her brother, but then scooted up closer to Marika. She was shivering as the spell's influence wore off and she tried to touch her shoulder. Marika stopped her and readjusted the blanket to help keep her warm.

Miquella was horrified when he realized that Malenia's shoulder was nothing more than a cauterized stump covered in a bandage.

"What did they do?" he gasped.

"It's okay, Miquella," said Godwyn.

"No. No, it's not. It's not okay. It's never okay. You can't do anything to help her, can they?"

"Miquella, we don't know much about what's wrong with her."

"It's called scarlet rot. Some spells work on it. Perserving boluses..."

"Miquella, they've tried. They've tried everything," said Godwyn. He looked at his mother to see whether it was okay to say more. She nodded. "It's caused by an outer god. It sometimes happens to Empyreans. They become vassals for other gods who look to impose their will."

"Is it bad?"

"Not always," said Godwyn. "Our mother is one. And she's not so bad. Right, Mother?"

Marika raised an eyebrow, not sure how she ought to take that.

"Come here," said Godwyn picking Miquella up.

He placed Miquella next to his twin. Miquella laid his head against her and said, "It's okay Malenia. I'm here now. I won't let anything happen to you anymore. I promise."

Godwyn watched them, barely able to hold back his tears.

He loved the twins since the moment they were born. It wasn't uncommon to find him asleep on the floor or in a chair with one twin in each of his arms. Even the Carian siblings, who never seemed to agree on anything and had much to dislike their father and Marika for, couldn't help but take a liking to their half-siblings. There were a few jokes that if they ever wanted to keep the three from bickering, they just had to put Miquella in the room. And there was never any worry that Malenia would ever half to face her bad days alone. One of her half-siblings would always volunteer their time, regardless of what they were doing.

As Marika left, even herself too overwhelmed, she placed a hand on Godwyn's cheek and gave him a reassuring smile.

Marika, though, did not want the twins.

The Greater Will, frustrated with Marika's defiance and continual insistence on bending its declared laws to avoid consequences, sought to turn her into something far more compliant with its desires. It chose Radagon, a faithful servant to its will and one who shared many of Marika's desired traits where a merge between them was likely to be successful.

It threatened his children. It threatened Rennala, his one true love - and the one Radagon still loved. In all fairness to Radagon, what it inflicted on Rennala, was terrible enough to show that it would not tolerate further disobedience. Even as Radagon hated himself for doing so, night after night, he forced himself on her, until the two beings were merged into one.

The twins were the result of that violent union.

It didn't take long for both to realize what a failure their merge was. Yet, as all things went, they kept that a secret, lest the failure be known and the entire Golden Order, that held its "one god" doctrine as the foundation of its dogmas. Despite this, Radagon remained loyal, even as his own doubts crept into his mind. He soon enough pushed them aside.

Marika, fearful of the Greater Will's intent for the child she now carried, tried to destroy it by forcing it born early. Miquella came out first. So tiny that he might fit within the palm of Marika's hand and struggling to breathe. Then came Malenia, expelled out with the afterbirth and covered with sores.

Marika regretted at once what she had done as the true consequence of her actions was revealed: As one twin withers, the other grows stronger. Always feeding on one another in a parasitic relationship that walked this line of both abundance and decay that will never find its equilibrium in the world Marika created.

Outside, Marika walked along the balcony. The cold air drifted down from the Forbidden Lands and was a dark reminder of the days when she was in exile. Her sin was laying with the one they called the "Lord of the Good place" and bearing him sons. By doing so, Marika made him from one who ate and ran with beasts to a man who stood upright and soon adopted a new name.

How much she missed him. But when the Forbidden Lands were filled with the mummified remains of their enemies tangled in the thorns of destined death, the Greater Will declared his purpose fulfilled.

The stars were now still in the clear night sky, forcing Marika to realize she had made a mistake in underestimating the strength of Rennala's brood.

Soon the winds shifted to have a certain heaviness to where it was like a knife aimed at her back.

"Show thyself, Maliketh, that we may speak with one another face to face," said Marika.

The lupine creature, crouched on all fours slipped from the shadows. Her shadow. Each breath Maliketh exhaled drew a snarl from his salivating snout as he circled his sister like she was his prey. His black armor held a beast whose desire to devour her was never fully masked. A beast Marika had trained but never tamed to love her.

"I see nothing in thy hand. Where is the means by which I may separate myself from the crimson pollution of my other half?" Marika asked. "Hast my brother not found what I hath sent him to track?"

"I have not," replied Maliketh.

Marika put her hands on Maliketh's face and laid her cheek against his head. She drew a heavy breath as she stroked the length of his course fur.

"Tell me that thou makest a poor attempt to amuse me," she said.

"Thy servant hath searched far and wide."

"All valleys, mountains, and rivers? And the ocean depths too? Surely there be a place above, higher than the beast sanctums where neither thee nor thy kindred hath yet ventured."

"All have been searched."

Marika's fingers raked into Maliketh's coat and along the surface of his ebony-colored armor. Her muscles tensed and she shook her head in disbelief.

"Then come my fit again. Along with it all the regret that I hath not had my twin quartered for deflowering the harlot who dares call herself a queen! And when all was done, I should then have placed under the knife the ill-gotten spawn of that disgraceful union that they may all know death in the bitterest of ways."

"If it pleaseth my sister, I shall see it so," replied Maliketh.

Marika smiled and sat down in front of Maliketh.

"Humm... Shall I be no more the 'Bestower' but suffer the name 'Marika' be said in cruel despair. As terrifying and dark as name as the sinister queen whom my beloved Shadow brother had disposed alongside all her apostle children? Oft I thought that my own skin may one day be a garment upon the backs of the very children I had bore and sucked. If my shadow should be most willing, shall I then lay a mercy killing for my daughter so foully conceived that she may no more know the blight? Or her twin whom may one day grow greater than I? Or win the favor again of the Greater Will by disposing of the daughter who despiseth it? Even my own cherished golden-haired boy whom I conceived and birthed from my beloved Godfrey now doth stare at me with lusting eyes more than he doth to his betrothed," Marika mused. She began to laugh, "A bed of scorpions is my mind."

"Who concerns thy thoughts? I pray thee tell, Sister! Allow me to redeem myself in thy eyes," said Maliketh.

"Doth my shadow remember the day that we ran swift-footed in the pursuit of the Ancestor Spirit? And when we lost the trail I shot my arrow to the sky in anger only for it to return to the ground bloodied. I declared this day the day I slayed a god and now therefore I am one. At what point doth this goddess return now to finish her ambition?"

"Doth my sister wish I slay for her a god?"

Marika wrapped her arms around Maliketh's neck.

"Would my dear brother then become a baleful shadow if I did? It was better for my stepdaughter to take the fall and be torn asunder by her own shadow upon finding the treasure in Nokron so that it may fall into my hands and turn the tree, my seat of power, into a siege tower against the heavens. Alas, the Finger-Slayer blade is lost to me. So it is for thee to hunt among the slag of the crucible one who can forge a weapon mighty enough to fell a god. One misbegotten who had seen the secret crafts to refine materials from the treasured ancient scales of the forgotten Dragon Lord. Leave none alive who witnesses thy entry or exit. And bring him before me in chains that I may have him serve me until success."

"Marika's Black Blade shall see it done."

"I want to see my children."

Maliketh began to growl as Marika lifted her head. Yet, Radagon's voice echoed not with harshness or anger, but with a forlorn longing.

It was Radagon who returned to the bedchamber where the twins were sleeping and Godwyn greeted him with a bow.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and with a smile brushed the hair back from Miquella's eyes before he took Malenia's hand. He held it for a time, before he put his face in his hand and wept.

I was angry with my friend:

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow. -William Blake

Chapter Text

"Then Beya [the lunar sea] rises up over Garicus and encloses him in her womb, so that nothing of him is to be seen. And she embraced Gabricus with so much love that she utterly consumed him in her own nature and dissolved him into atoms..." (Fabricious, 81)

Godwyn awoke with a start. He looked around his room as he tried to control his panicked breathing and rapid heartbeat. He sat up with his hands on his head and reminded himself it was all a dream. He then looked down at Ranni.

She was curled up and still resting peacefully next to him. With a shaking hand, Godwyn touched her long red hair if only to reassure himself that she was real. She was and Godwyn planted a kiss on her warm cheek. He then swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his face in his hands.

After he spent all yesterday comforting an understandably terrified Malenia, Godwyn was relieved to return to his chambers and find Ranni waiting for him. She eased his troubled mind even as she was still upset over what happened at the council. Of that, Ranni only said she wished not to speak of it and instead wished to spend a little time in Luirnia with her mother, Blaidd, and Iji.

So, they spent the entire night talking about nothing. What a blissful conversation it was! Books, amusing stories from their childhoods, and even a small debate on whether pickling or salting meat was the best way to preserve it (however they got on that topic).

Nothing else happened between them. Blaidd was over in the next room with the door opened to ensure things remained proper even when Ranni broke the rules.

Godwyn walked over to the bookshelf and with his hand still shaking, picked up a little trinket. It had several names: Mimic Veil and Marika's Mischief. How his mother used it - and why it was called the latter - Godwyn wasn't privy to, and he was certain he didn't want to know.

He knew how he used it.

Godwyn never forced anyone, but it was an unofficial right by grace of being the son of Queen Marika that he would get whatever it was he desired. And the Golden Order was adept at keeping secrets, even the worst of them. That didn't change how furious Marika was each time she found out. And Godwyn enjoyed seeing his mother angry.

This was her fault, after all. She was the reason he had to.

When he was younger, Godwyn never thought anything of it to find his parents in an embrace with Godfrey caressing the queen and pressing his lips against her neck. He might have considered himself lucky as the love between Godfrey and Marika was as real as it was legendary.

"The dew collects on the canopies, my Lord. A time for new life," whispered Marika.

Godfrey smirked and ordered young Godwyn, rather harshly as that was his way, out while he and Marika went together to the bed chamber.

She circled Godfrey, as she slipped his clothes off and let them fall to the ground. Under Godfrey's regal surface was a barely concealed untamed instinct that Sherosh struggled to hold back in the sight of Marika's beauty. He strained at the temptation as Marika undressed and laid out on the bed, bare-breasted in the moonlight to seduce her Lord. Even at the threat of unleashing Godfrey's savage nature, Marika teased her husband and said, "Doth my lord need to shrug off Sherosh and run with beasts for a bit? Or will he let his queen tire him out?"

"Stop," muttered Godwyn as he rubbed his hands over his face.

Godwyn had to remind himself that he was just a boy at the time. One of the other lads, about his age, was the first among them to have sex and described the deed to the fullest detail. It sparked a curiosity in Godwyn. To satisfy that curiosity, Godwyn stowed away in his parent's bed chamber thus committing a sin that would curse him for the remainder of his life.

Things grew distant between Godfrey and Godwyn after that. Godfrey tried everything to connect with his son, but it was of no use. They weren't on speaking terms at the time Godfrey left and Godwyn regretted the thought that his father left believing he had done something wrong.

He was happy, at least at first, to see his father banished. Now, he could have his mother to himself. He didn't even realize that this was nothing more than a fantasy even as his mother barely seemed to notice his feeble advances. Reality came hard when Marika remarried and Godwyn had to face that he could never have his mother in that way.

One's own mother was far too great a taboo even among demigods. Now, he had an agonizing secret forever. A lust never fully went away, no matter how many women he bedded or how he tried to love Ranni.

There wasn't a day he didn't wish his father back if only to say sorry for coveting Godfrey's wife.

That is why Radahn's words of being more worthy of Godfrey's legacy hurt so much: because it was true. He wasn't worthy of the title of Lord and certainly not worthy of an Emyprean wife.

It felt like every day after that Godwyn felt it was only a matter of time before that other shoe may drop. Whether it was Rykard and his many eyes and ears discovering one of the offspring Godwyn may have sired (though he wasn't sure), Ranni uncovering a clue or Godwyn finding his desire too much and slipping up again.

Godwyn walked to his window and pulled back the curtains. He jumped back when he saw a large yellow eye glaring right at him. In a moment of sheer panic, he almost threw out a red lightning spear, but then stopped himself.

"Fortissax, you cad. You have a human form!" said Godwyn.

Fortissax gave a snicker.

"Godwyn, what's going on?" said Ranni, still half asleep.

"Fortissax," replied Godwyn.

"Oh, him," yawned Ranni as she turned over. "Tell him to not trample on anything this time. Miquella was very upset when some of his flowers were ruined."

Godwyn pulled the doors open to step out on the balcony to converse with his friend.

An unlikely friend was more the sort. They battled endlessly with lightning, fang, and claw where neither could overtake the other. Fortissax tried to devour him, and Godwyn caused him to vomit. When he tried to escape, Godwyn jumped on his back.

Over and around, tumbling and swirling Fortissax tried to shake the demigod from him, and yet Godwyn held on. From sunlight to sunset and then from sunrise again. They flew so high to touch the sun and then plunged into the deepest trenches of the ocean.

And when the sun rose again on the sixth day, Fortissax fell to the ground in exhaustion. Godwyn too, could barely stand. Yet stood they did, ready again. Until Fortissax said to Godwyn, "Son of Marika. Son of Godfrey. I cannot best thee and thou cannot best me. We shall both parish should we continue. Shall not part ways with a riddle instead?"

Godwyn was astonished but accepted.

There are two sisters;

one gives birth to the other,

who in turn gives birth to the first.

Who are they?

When Godwyn guessed the answer correctly, the dragon laid down, and Godwyn too. As they sprawled out in the rays of a new day, they both laughed.

"Aren't you and your sister supposed to be in Caelid converting people to your cult?" Godwyn asked.

Fortissax wasn't amused by Godwyn's comment. The cult was the last remnant of the Ancient Dragons. By a rare show of restraint from Queen Marika, who so often obliterated those who may oppose her, it survived in a few areas of the Lands-Between. And it was Fortissax and Godwyn's unlikely friendship that allowed that.

"I'm sorry," said Godwyn. "I'm not sure what's gotten into me."

"I heard thy sister was in a bad place," said Fortissax. "Though I am not fond of being pet like a dog, thy tiny siblings do amuse me."

"They will be thrilled to see you."

"Is it true she has been betrothed?"

"Empyrean for an Empyrean. Yet another way my mother decided to pacify the Carian Royal family. You know what Radahn told me? He said I wasn't worthy of my father's legacy," said Godwyn.

He looked over the balcony where Radahn was leading Leonard for some exercise with Miquella walking beside him.

"Thy father was a great man. Feared as much as he was respected," replied Fortissax.

"He didn't know my father. He prances around pretending he does though. But the only thing he knows is the watered-down version of events curated by the Golden Order. He doesn't know him. How selfish he could be," said Godwyn. Fortissax raised an eyebrow as Godwyn continued. "He and his brother are only here at the behest of their father and as a courtesy from my mother. If she wanted to, she could have forced the Carians into an alliance."

"From what I understood, she had done so out of respect for her champion, Radagon," said Godwyn.

"She doesn't need him. I'm not sure why she married him at all. I understand the Greater Will banished my father, but to marry him of all people? The only good thing that came from him was Ranni," said Godwyn.

"It not safe to say that thy mother may have her own needs and reasons?"

"She had me!"

As soon as he said it, Godwyn realized what he just admitted. His dear friend was the only one aware of this vice that Godwyn carried. And while they never spoke of it again, with his outburst, Godwyn revealed that he still had the same lust that Fortissax had always suspected.

"Does Ranni know?"

"She doesn't need to know."

"I do not always understand the courtship between gods, demigods, and mortals, but from what I understand, the position of wives and mothers-in-law is a precarious one. I do not believe it is fair to either thy lover or thy mother that thou places them as rivals to each other," said Fortissax.

"Perhaps it's her brothers who need to learn respect. If not for them, Ranni and I would be married already. I've shown them that courtesy. I could have taken her already if I wanted to, but I've respected her. Maybe I should so those two learn their place."

"I fail to see how bedding her will help."

"I'm well over those feelings about my mother," said Godwyn. "Just boyhood fantasies. And I'm well over having anyone else in my life."

"But hast thoug come clean about that?"

"Shhh..." said Godwyn.

From the corner of his eye, Godwyn spotted the shadow of a figure up on the roof just above them. He took hold of the marble pillars and shimmied up until he could slip up behind the figure.

The Intruder paced back and forth, a bit confused about where Godwyn went, but not willing to jump down when Fortissax was there.

"Good day," said Godwyn.

When the Intruder turned, its face was obscured by the shadow of its cloak. It was also the same height as his mother, which showed itself to be a Numan. It took a stance with its dagger, as it stared down Godwyn.

"We have a front gate for guests," said Godwyn.

The Intruder took a leap and a yellow holy spell shot towards Godwyn. He ducked to avoid it, which distracted him long enough for the figure to disappear. Godwyn dashed towards the edge of the roof and looked down where he caught sight of it running across the ramparts, and pushing down any of the guards that stood in its way.

Godwyn whistled for Fortissax who had been tracking the Intruder's movements from the air.

"Hurry," said Godwyn as he jumped on Fortissax's back.

As Fortissax flew, Godwyn had to reassure himself that his loved ones were protected. Ranni had Blaidd with her. Miquella was with Radahn and Malenia was with Marika in the Queen's Bedchamber. Anywhere Marika was, so was also Maliketh. None of these sorts was anything that a single Intruder wished to confront.

The Intruder glided over Lyndell's golden rooftops to reach the moats where it could disappear into the canal. Its footsteps were muffled, which allowed it to gain an edge in moving through the defenses without them noticing until it was too late. Footsoldiers and pages shot their crossbows, which the Intruder danced between the bolts that whizzed past it.

When Fortissax caught up to the Intruder, he spit down a bolt of lightning in its path. Godwyn jumped off, landing behind the intruder.

It lunged at Godwyn with the dagger, which Godwyn deflected with his open palms. He soon trapped the arm and kicked out the legs. With a quick twist of his hips, he snapped the arm to force the Intruder to drop the dagger.

"Godwyn!" shouted Fortissax.

The plunge into his shoulder caused Godwyn to gasp in pain. Fortissax shot down another stream of red lightning before landing and giving a screech.

The second assassin grabbed the first and placed it over the shoulders before jumping down into the canal below. The guard shouted to chase after them and shot down more arrows and bolts into the water in hopes of hitting them.

"Are thou hurt?" Fortissax asked.

"I'm fine," said Godwyn, clutching his shoulder. There was blood, but it was not enough to seriously harm a demigod, much less kill him.

He knelt over the dagger and picked it up. It was curved with a spike near the hilt, but otherwise nothing unusual about it. The Ash of War was something different though and Godwyn wasn't sure he recalled if and when he saw anything like that before.

"We need to tell my mother," said Godwyn.

Chapter Text

Hewg didn't remember the last time he was allowed outside. Months perhaps when a group consisting of himself and other Misbegotten were marched from their homes towards the mines in the south. The long march through the rain and mud may have been days ago, years ago, or even decades ago.

It was hard to say. In the darkness and isolation of Morne tunnel, time all ran together.

All Hewg knew was that every day afterward was the same day as before. He stood at his anvil with his hammer in one hand and forged the very chains, link by link and yard by yard, that bound both him and his kind; the gray scaley misbegotten who were neither men nor beasts. Instead, they were more like a mismatched of parts; legs like goats that had feet with talons. Some with wings and others with scales. Their mouths were even misshaped into a hideous grin.

"There was a time we were blessed," said the Old Scaley Misbegotten.

These were the typical ramblings of the Old Scaely One. Each night, all gathered around her by the small fire and listened as she told of times before the Erdtree. Her capacity for detail captivated the younger ones, but it didn't mean she told the truth.

It was hard to remember that time. Everything that might have reminded Hewg of what it was like back then, was gone. Marika's reign as goddess meant that all signs of the crucible be gone. Villages were burned and rebuilt. Effigies were toppled. Every statue was replaced. Books were rewritten. Even the Great Tree itself was guilded in gold to show that Marika's reign was absolute. There was not one place in the whole Lands-Between where it was visible. Now even Hewg's memory was something he couldn't recall.

"Even as Marika spins new life, we are born. We are as much her children as the demigods," the Old Scaley One continued.

"Ha!" laughed Hewg. He had a fit of coughing after he burst out laughing. "Y'all think we are offspring of Queen Marika? Oh my dear, her beauty is unsurpassed. What would she have to breed with to make some stitched-together slags like us? Maybe a bird? Or perhaps a reptile of some kind? Maybe we were the ones last in line and all she had was spare parts?"

"You are cruel, Hewg," said the Old Scaley One and she slinked away.

"Aww, don't be mad. Wherever we come from, this is where we ended up," said Hewg as he began to pound his hammer again. "There ain't no going backward."

These stories had the power to spark a flicker of hope in the younger ones, but those sparks were all too often snuffed out by the Golden Order as though they never existed. To war against Marika, was to war against a goddess. As much as they wished to believe such a task was trivial, but if there was one thing Hewg recalled in his dimming memory it was this: a god was not so easily felled.

The guards' horns echoed down the tunnels to signal the end of the work day. Each Misbegotten lined up so to be counted and their finds checked to see if they met their quota. If anyone was too slow, whips made them go faster. Speaking was punishable by a beating. Blasphemy against Queen Marika was met with far worse.

When that was done, they were herded into the cramped steel cages where they would sleep.

Hewg lay on the hard dirt while he listened to the cries of his fellows as the guards disciplined them. He had grown too used to such noises of despair. The cries, moans, sighs and screams all were as normal to him as a birdsong might be for anyone else. And it reminded Hewg to continue to keep his head low and his hopes faint. If they were focused on those who failed to meet expectations or follow rules, then they would not focus on Hewg. He was free to have his private thoughts and his prayers.

He reached under the pulled out a pink handkerchief. The master's daughter, Irena, dropped it. A beautiful little child. When Hewg picked it up, he thought time and time again how he might best return it to her, as he was certain she must have missed it.

He had the conversation over and over in his mind. How he might approach her. What he might say and what she might say back. The fact she had no sight made Hewg confident that he could do so without her fearing him like so many others had.

Alas, that was years ago since she dropped it. And yet while Hewg knew intellectually that returning it and having that imaginary conversation wasn't possible, imagining it was all he had. All that could bring him enough peace to drift off into sleep.

The rain seeped down into the tunnels and caused Hewg to shiver awake. The whole place was damp with all the torches and fires put out and the complete darkness played tricks on the mind. He was about to return to sleep when there came the sound of something crashing in one of the rooms. Hewg thought it was nothing. Perhaps the tools fell over or one of the drunk guards tripped.

Then came the blood-curdling scream from somewhere deep within the caverns.

The other Misbegotten were awake, whispering among themselves what that might be. There was fear as many began to pray to the Lords of the Crucible for help. There were a few flashes of light and echoing voices from guards as they ran through the tunnels in search of whatever it was. More screams and one guard, still with his torch in hand, stuttered into the cave as he spit out a mouthful of blood. He then collapsed in front of Hewg's cage.

Hewg's heart raced when he saw the hulking creature creep into the room. It's mouth salivated at the sight of the helpless creatures and it snarled. The beast had many names but only one reputation: the dark enforcer of Marika's will.

"No, no, no," begged Hewg when Maliketh looked at him with those yellow eyes. He curled up in his cage with his hands over his head. "Not you! I swear I don' know nothing. I hadn't done nothin' wrong. I promise Marika had nothin' to fear from me. I swear it."

"Marika hath summoned thee, wrench," said Maliketh.

"Oh, please... I swear I'd do anything. Please, don't just take me to her again. Please," cried Hewg.

Maliketh smashed his claw against the side of the cage, which threw Hewg against the bars. He hit his head against the steel and after that, everything went black.

There were fleeting moments of consciousness, then blackouts. Voices speaking and then again things went dark. Never was it long enough for Hewg to see where Maliketh took him. And when he did come to, he was inside by a fire, lying on the warm wooden floor.

With a groan, Hewg eased himself up, touching the stone wall. His eyes began to adjust and all too soon he realized where he was. The old forge. The weapons are strewn about. The doorway where he saw the edge of the wooden table.

"What?" gasped Hewg. He knew this place. There was a point in his life where Hewg called it "home" and those who came here called him "the honored craftsman." Sure, it was impossible, but he was there again.

"The Roundtable Hold? That's impossible," said Hewg.

He laid his hand on the forge, and tears streamed down his face as he realized it was real. He picked up his hammer, and let the weight settle in his hands. It was his. The tool he crafted himself to be right just for him so that his technique and skill remained consistent.

The echoes of laughter and comradery among warriors were replaced with a dark and eerie silence. Godfrey's grand speeches were long gone as was he. And when Hewg stepped forward, he realized his leg was shackled to the wall and he let out a disappointed sigh. Even at home, he was still a prisoner. A fact he wished he hadn't grown so used to.

"How is it that I'm here?" said Hewg.

"Not how, Master Hewg, but why."

Hewg lifted his eyes and could barely gasp out the words, "Queen Marika?"

She might have been there the entire time or just arrived. Time and space had no meaning to a goddess after all. As far as Hewg knew, she could be in two places at once, take on any form, and even move through the Lands-Between unseen. She was both knowable and unknowable. Seen and hidden. Both anywhere and yet nowhere at all. And both the same young girl he knew from so long ago, and a completely different woman as well.

Whatever her nature was, Hewg dropped to the ground and clasped his hands together as he pleaded for her mercy.

"I swear I hadn't done nothin' to ya. Never said nothin' 'gainst ya. Never spoken yer name in blasphemy or heresy. I have always honored you, I swear," begged Hewg. His entire body trembled at the terror of her.

"If I had any wrath against thee, I would have seen thee devoured at the hand of my shadow already," replied Marika.

"What could the queen want with lil 'ol me? I'm a prisoner now..."

"I am a prisoner too, Hewg. Enslaved in the same manner as thee."

"I... I see," said Hewg.

"Grant thy enslaved Queen one request."

"What could I possibly do for you?"

"I ask for a weapon that could slay a god," said Marika.

Hewg was stunned at the request. Under the crucible, while he was still just a pup, he and his master had set out before on such a work, but something of such quality was not easily created. They were meticulous, methodical, and even could be considered clever. They learned to forge in the stones that fell from Farum Azula into even the most common and brittle of steel to make something strengthened well beyond its native properties. And while the conclusion of this magnum opus was far from complete, what they accomplished in building technique was far more advanced than anything else.

"In the end, technique never fails."

What Hewg did remember of those days with the master he considered more as his father, was now a fog. It was a thing he tried to remember from time to time, but when he tried to recall, he couldn't bring it up. He spent too long mending his own shackles to remember the old crafts and he doubted with his age that the skill could ever be brought back without spending centuries at the forge.

"My Queen, I don't know that I could live long enough to see your request fulfilled," said Hewg.

Marika grew angry, "Am I not the bestower of life and the conqueror of death? Life and death are mine alone. If I wish thee to live forever, then shall thou live forever."

"I-I didn't mean to offend ya. Of course I will do what yer askin'. But I don't understand. You are the one goddess. There ain't nobody who stands above ya. What purpose can there be to slay a god anymore?" said Hewg.

Then Hewg realized he answered his own question. With a somber face, he picked up his old hammer and muttered, "I will do as ya ask."

Marika closed her eyes and gave a deep breath as though she came to the end of a long journey.

"Whatever thou needs, I will see to it. No one will harm thee here, that is my promise. And perhaps in time, we will both shrug off our shackles."

"May I just say one thing to a goddess before ya go? And don' be thinking I mean nothing bad by it," Hewg asked.

Marika nodded.

"I just wanted to say... that all the things that happened between us... I ain't ever had nothin' against ya. The others were angry, but I understood. And if ya believe I can make this weapon, so be it. We'll find a way, right? Who can fail with a goddess on his side? But what I really wanted to say is that... well, it's been a while, hadn't it?

"Yes."

"I missed ya, Fair Lady. Truly, I did."

"And I as well," said Marika. She paused and then added, "Old Friend."

We are the metals' first nature and only source,

The highest tincture of the art is made through us.

No fountain and no water has my like I make both rich and poor men whole or sick.

For deadly can I be and poisonous. (Fabricius, 19)

Chapter Text

Blaidd perched up on the roof over Godwyn's balcony and looked out over the garden that surrounded the base of the Erdtree. It was a decent enough view. He could see towards the chambers of Marika's demigod children from this vantage point. He saw Miquella reading to a recovering Malenia. He spotted Rykard pacing back and forth while he and Ranni argued.

But he couldn't see into Marika's bed chamber, the throne room, or the sanctuary from this point, much less reach any of them. The Erdtree obstructed his view far too much.

"So maybe spying on Queen Marika wasn't what you looked to do," said Blaidd. The Half-Wolf peered over the edge down to Godwyn's balcony. "A good place to stage an ambush, but one doesn't easily kill a demigod. Not with that sort of dagger. Kidnapping, perhaps? But who?"

Blaidd had to chuckle to himself at the thought of someone trying to whisk away Radahn with his massive size. He'd have to use his gravity magic to assist with his own kidnapping.

He sniffed the air and caught a whiff of something.

"Humm... incense?" he mused. He sniffed again. "No. Perfume. A woman? Well, they do often make for better spies. And children are more likely to trust a woman than they would a man.”

The twins did make sense since neither of them had been paired with a shadow. The fall of Farum Azula made eligible beast-men difficult to come by. The Carian royal family was fortunate enough to find an orphaned Blaidd to bond with their daughter Ranni, but he was many times removed from the bloodline.

“But why wouldn't you just disguise yourself as a perfumer if you wanted to take one of the twins?"

Blaidd bounced a bit on the roof and heard that the roof still creaked. An intentional design for precisely the purpose of detecting anyone attempting to go over the roof.

"The question is how did you get here without someone at least hearing you. You escaped through the sewers to throw off the scent, but that couldn't have been how you came. Guards aren't always the most perceptive, but surely they would have caught two tall women leaping over the ramparts."

That left one theory that the intruder might have used a portal that only went one way. And he had just the place where such a device would deposit them: right in the wild gardens where Marika had forbidden anyone to go. All he had to do to prove his theory was follow the trail...

"Oh, blasted," said Blaidd as the clouds opened and a gentle rain began to fall. "It appears getting to the bottom of this problem isn't written in the stars anytime soon."

Blaidd leaped down from the roof onto Godwyn's balcony.

"Oh, there you are. Did you find anything?" Seluvis asked as he looked through Godwyn's bookshelves.

"A great deal more than you, I would suspect," replied Blaidd.

"Even if Godwyn had the ambition to try an elaborate sort of assassination attempt, I doubt he'd have the brains to pull it off."

Blaidd always hated how the Preceptor had to wear that mask along with his silly hat that had the stars drawn on it. It wasn't as though the symbolic appearance of the sown-up mouth ever kept Seluvis quiet. But more, he liked to see people's faces when he spoke with them.

"You would think a demigod would care to have at least a tidy living quarters," said Seluvis as he picked up a dirty cloth with his forefinger and thumb to put it aside.

"I suppose if you had someone wiping your ass instead of you kissing theirs," scoffed Blaidd.

"Don't forget that we serve the same mistress."

"Well, Queen Marika wanted Mistress Ranni to stop by. I'm sure she's worried sick at this point after hearing Godwyn was injured. You keep searching and try not to disturb anything. The last thing we need is for Godwyn to know we were poking around here," said Blaidd.

Seluvis looked around at the rubbish scattered around Godwyn's room. Robes hanging off the backs of chairs, closet doors left open, and drawers where extra clothes didn't quite reach inside.

"I highly doubt he'll notice," Seluvis sighed.

For the past twelve hours, Ranni paced her room in worry. Everyone, noble, servant, and demigod alike was locked down while the guards searched every inch of the palace grounds for the intruders.

The rain lasted a good few minutes before it finally ceased, but that didn't stop Blaidd from coming in soaking wet.

The first she asked was about the twins, which Blaidd assured her they were well.

"Marika had called you, Mistress Ranni. Just you. Which is well by me. I'm not too fond of her shadow Maliketh, to be honest," said Blaidd.

"So he was with Marika and Malenia?"

"Of course. Miquella was with Radahn and your brother's reputation for sure proceeds him. Neither of the twins is any the wiser that anything is amiss" said Blaidd.

Ranni gave a sigh of relief.

"And Godwyn?" she asked.

"That is why I'm guessing the Queen has summoned you. Don't worry, he's more than alive, but..."

Ranni was out the door before Blaidd could finish his sentence.

While there was no question that few things could ever kill a demigod, it didn't mean they were impervious to suffering and pain. What could have happened to Godwyn worried Ranni a great deal. She had just spent the night with him and the next thing she knew, she was ushered and escorted back to her own chambers by Rykard.

He asked her a million questions about why she was with Godwyn, which Ranni shouted at him to mind his own business, as she wasn't one of his heretics.

Rykard embraced her, "I'm sorry Sister. You're right. It isn't my business. I'm only happy you're safe."

Ranni made her way to the Queen's Bed Chamber but stopped when she spotted Maliketh perched on the roof above. Her heart pounded as he glared at her. He licked his lips and bore his teeth. A bellow of steam snorted out through his nose.

He leaped down onto the walkway and paced back and forth as though he wished to pounce on her. His yellow eyes were dilated and fixated on her. He gave a slight growl before he disappeared over the edge and into the night.

It took a moment for Ranni to catch her breath. Her heart pounded to where she swore she could hear it. Never had she felt such an intense hate as she did when that creature locked his eyes on her.

When it came to the few things that could kill a demigod, Maliketh was one of those things. As the stories go, somehow he found a way to annihilate the entirety of the Gloam Eyed Queen's dynasty and effectively erased her name from ever being uttered again.

She calmed down after taking a few breaths and remembered that Maliketh obeyed Marika, even against his own nature. And though they were barely acquaintances, much less friends, Marika bore no ill will for her stepdaughter.

Godwyn was bandaged over the right shoulder and sitting on the queen's bed. His mother stood over him and held both his hands. Although Ranni couldn't make out her words, Marika spoke to her son in a tense, hushed voice. She wasn't pleased with him and Godwyn looked slightly embarrassed as she gave him an earful. His attempts to get a word in were useless. When Marika saw Ranni standing at the door, she slapped Godwyn on the back of the head to shut him up and leaned up against the side of the bed with her arms crossed.

The moment she saw Godwyn, Ranni was in his embrace, even forgetting to show proper respect to the queen. She forgot everything. Duty. Etiquette. Manners. She pressed her lips against his and almost broke down crying.

"Why did thou have to do such foolishness? I fretted over thee, Godwyn the Golden."

"You're going to do this too?" exclaimed Godwyn, looking to his mother.

Marika put her tongue in her cheek to either suppress a laugh or another scolding (it was hard to tell with her). Either way, Godwyn could expect no help from her.

There was never a time in all eternity when Ranni ever thought she could fall in love with this man. She thought he was a childish, immature, spoiled prince. Yet, she had no choice. The marriage was arranged when she was six years old as part of the continual treaty between the Carian Royal Family and the Golden Order. Although she was well aware of the arrangement, she still cried when she reached the age of majority. Before, it seemed strange, abstract, and distant.

But Godwyn was understanding and patient. He let her lead in the courtship, which gave Ranni the space she needed to grow accustomed to the situation.

"I had a dragon," Godwyn said.

Ranni gave him a flat stare. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. She was still a little shaken from her strange encounter with Maliketh, as brief as it was, and so found herself relaxing in his embrace.

Marika excused herself without saying a word, except to give Ranni a gentle, reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. She called for Maliketh and soon disappeared into the palace.

The moment the queen was gone, their embrace became a passionate kiss, followed by another. Godwyn ran his hands through Ranni's hair and then over her shoulders. When his hand reached her thigh, he took hold of her skirt.

Ranni broke off his kiss and looked away with her cheeks flushed red.

"Are you okay?" Godwyn asked as he brushed back her hair.

"I'm sorry," said Ranni. Here they were, left alone for the first time in the place where all life within the Erdtree spun. They had never done this before and it was both exciting and a little terrifying.

"It's okay," said Godwyn. He gave another gentle kiss near her ear and then breathed in her scent.

"I don't know, Godwyn," said Ranni, with her hands on his chest. "We shouldn't."

"I love you Ranni. You and no other," he said. "I want you to love you fully."

"Wait, Godwyn... My brothers... My father..."

Godwyn paused a moment with his forehead against hers, "What does Princess Ranni want?"

Ranni relaxed her grip on his arm to allow Godwyn to lift her skirt. He spoke kindly with a reassurance that it wouldn't hurt. He would stop if she wished. His lips went to her shoulder, neck, and then the breasts. Ranni's breathing grew heavy and her fear started to give away to passion as he continued to undress her.

“Sun and moon must have intercourse like that of a man and woman: otherwise the object of our art cannot be attained. All other teaching is false and erroneous.” (Fabricious, 34)

Marika pushed open the wooden doors to allow a thin sliver of light to cast itself on Godfrey's throne. As she walked towards it, the white ghosts of the past appeared on either side to pay their respects to their Lord's beloved queen. Marika knelt before this throne, laid her head down on the seat, and closed her eyes with a slight smile.

Her power allowed her to traverse time and space, but not to the places where her grace did not extend, so only her memories kept her company.

Godfrey had always had a fond attachment to this place. It was her that he and his closest companions congregated, fraternized, and swore oaths of loyalty to one another. His table was round, with no head to imply that all invited to sit at it were equals. The throne on which Marika laid her head was the seat of his power, where he might stay close to where his warriors were.

"What happened to that little girl that I used to suckle at my breast? "

It didn't surprise Marika to see Enia here; as she was still present in this place - at least some form of it - just as Hewg was now. Just as the Tarnished soon will be, if Marika's plan worked as she designed.

"She grew old," replied Marika.

"And sad?"

"Is it wrong for a goddess to cry?" Marika asked.

"No. It is not wrong. For how can a goddess understand if she does not feel as we do?" said Enia. "But it is wrong to turn your back on the Greater Will and ignore the words of the Two-Fingers."

Marika closed her eyes as she recalled the day she told Godfrey of what the Two-Fingers asked - no demanded- that she do. They sat there, at this very throne, Marika's knelt before him with her head in his lap, and Godfrey in silence.

He shed no tears. There was no tolerance for such weaknesses in Lords. So, it was for Marika to carry the burden of shedding tears for both of them.

There was no argument. For the Golden Order to survive, no impurities could ever exist within the chosen lineage. Marika insisted her children could be hidden indefinitely where their animal nature posed no harm. Where they could be with their "own kind" and none would be the wiser.

Under the streets of Leyndell, they were close enough that she could see to it they had all they needed. It was only after Godfrey left when Marika grew desperate to gather every part of him, she saw how things were. The keepers she had tasked with ensuring the ground's upkeep had neglected their duties and left the entire place in decay while the omens multiplied unchecked. They wore Omen Killer's masks to keep them terrified and controlled. They even invited that despicable creature called Rollo to carry out his sport.

Never had Marika felt such anger. She had these so-called "keepers" taken to the church in the sewers under the guise that they were to be personally rewarded for their service.

As they bowed before the queen with smirks on their faces, she ordered Maliketh to rend them to pieces. Every inch of that church was covered in their blood.

"I do not wish to speak of it," said Marika.

"And I do not wish to pain you further," said Enia. She reached out her hand and Marika knelt down so the blind woman could touch her cheek. "I fear what you intend to do. It is one thing to conquer those within your realm, and another to lay sedge on realms of other gods. The Two-Fingers will refuse to guide you further if you insist on carrying on with such plans. Already the Greater Will has had to pacify their demands for retribution by offering your daughter as a vassal to a god who brings only rot and decay. Caelid was only the beginning. Continue, and not even your stepson's scourge of the stars will be enough to halt the retribution of the heavens. What if that retribution will endanger the life of your grandchild too?"

Marika's eyes grew dark and she grabbed Enia's hand, "I'll shatter the Elden Ring and burn the Erdtree to the ground with my body in it before I allow my domain to be ruled by any outer god."

Chapter Text

Ranni and Godwyn lay side by side, as they stared up at the dew-soaked canopy.

"I don't think we ought to tell your brothers," said Godwyn. He rolled to his side and brushed a strand of hair from Ranni's face. "Ranni? Are you okay? We hadn't talked about this."

"I'm fine," said Ranni with a slight smile. Her eyes showed an uncertainty about what this all meant. She put her hand on Godwyn's cheek, "I have you."

Godwyn kissed her hand and then scooted to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Probably best we don't mention this to my mother either," he said as he picked up his clothes from off the floor.

When Godwyn handed Ranni her dress, she seemed too disconnected to notice.

"Ranni? Are you sure you're alright? You're not acting yourself right now. If I did something wrong... hurt you in any way," said Godwyn.

"As I said, it's fine, Godwyn. Truly it is."

As they dressed, Ranni wasn't sure what she should say. There was a time when she thought she could talk to Godwyn about anything, but this was different. It wasn't a book or a poem. Or even complaining about her brothers or the tears she shed over her mother.

Godwyn kissed her cheek and said something about how they best not be caught together. And then he left.

When he was gone, Ranni put her head in her hand and cried.

That was three months ago...

The first hard truth that Ranni came to realize was that life didn't stop after she and Godwyn consummated their love. It was only several days later that the warden of Morne Castle called for Godwyn to return to deal with a matter involving the servants. Such things were not uncommon from the misbegotten but the warden insisted this was different. Whatever it was that came into Morne Tunnel, brought with it the hatred and anger that it had to be the ghost of the revenger risen from the dead.

Godwyn's assurances that Marika's control over death and life remained firm and that his coming there would resolve nothing seemed to do little.

Godwyn resisted for a whole month, citing that matters at Leyndell needed immediate attention. The truth was, he wanted to stay and take responsibility for the fallout of his actions. Soon, the calls for his return came too great for him to continue to put off. While Ranni understood that the duty of the demigods was to help maintain the faith of mortals, it couldn't have come at the worst possible time. She was grateful for the space to think things over, but overly concerned that he might just choose to stay there.

"These sorts of things have a way of resolving themselves over time," Radagon assured her. They walked through the garden, with Ranni holding her father's arm.

When the silence became unbearable, Ranni broke down and told her father everything. Despite their differences, she had no one else. Rather than becoming angry, Radagon listened. He scolded her a bit for being "foolish" but acknowledged that it was "bound to happen" with her brothers pushing for the wedding to be delayed for their own ambition. Whatever consequences came of it, Ranni had the full support, not of Radagon, the Elden Lord, but of her father.

"Perhaps it would be better we not allow such foolish superstitions to take root in the first place," replied Ranni.

"You're still angry at me and my decision?" Radagon asked.

"Of course I am! Place thy faith in the Golden Order if it pleases thee, but why do so at the expense of others? If the Golden Order is as thou sayest, then the pursuit of my destiny ought not to be a threat to it," said Ranni.

"How long has it been since you were last in Liurinia?" Radagon asked.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter," said Ranni.

"If you cannot remember, then it's been far too long. You should go back. Visit your mother. Consult with your friends."

"Thou has never trusted my friends."

"But you do," said Radagon. He took Ranni by the shoulders and kissed her head. "And I trust you."

"Very well," said Ranni. "But do not expect a big conversion or sudden agreement."

Radagon chuckled, "I would be greatly worried if you suddenly shouted praises to the Golden Order and the Greater Will."

So Ranni returned to Liurinia, but not after she and Blaidd decided to make a detour to the Church of Vows. Miquella was upset when he realized he misplaced his notes, many of which he derived from rare sources of information. He begged Ranni to find him whatever sources she could, so he might at least reclaim his previous research to some degree.

Looking out over the lake only affirmed what her father had told her; that it was far too long since she was last there.

Everything seemed to be sinking. The two rivers were both diverted to flow into the lake, but never out. The cliff faces where the city of Raya Lucaria began to erode, causing many of the buildings to hang precariously on the edge.

Ranni had no idea what any of this might mean in the following decades or even centuries. Worse yet, what to do to stop it. These erosions were caused by the very roots of the Erdtree itself breaking up the land and lapping up the freshwater in the lake while trapping the stagnant water below. And yet, Queen Marika would or could do nothing to prune it back before it sucked away all the nutrients from the soil.

Miriel came from the church. He was slow even for a large tortoise and each step was accompanied by a huff of breath as he dragged his shell along the ground.

"What happened here?" Ranni asked.

"Aggression puts a terrible strain on the balance of the world and Marika's reign had been rife with it," said Miriel. "Even with the fall of her last enemies, I fear she still retains much of her innate nature."

"She was surrounded by champions who enabled her," said Ranni. "Godfrey. My father. Now my brother."

"Of course. Fault can't all be placed on her. Your mother, Rennala, is still the queen of these lands and she too has her own duty to ensure its stability," said Miriel. "I am curious why you're here. Your letter stated you wished me to search the church's archives to assist your brother in his research, but I could have easily had those materials sent directly to either the academy or manor. Is there another reason that you chose to take such a drastic detour?"

"I go to speak with my war counsel and I fear of what may be recommended. I do love Radahn. He taught me to ride a horse in secret when I could barely walk because my mother wouldn't allow it. And Marika had always been good to us in treating myself and my brothers as her own. And that is even a shadow to the love that I bear my dear siblings Miquella and Malenia," said Ranni. "But I cannot ignore that this is a result of her negligence and arrogance.

"And you cannot ignore what she's proven capable of doing even to friends. Or how Radahn's scourge of the stars enables her just as her champions in the past always have. That is always the difficulty with family. We are often looking to find ways to separate how we know them on a personal level and how we interact with them when other stakes are in play," said Miriel.

"Sometimes I wish I could bring them all here, bathe them in that celestial dew ye always go on about and mend this matter."

"That could work if they were willing, but seeing as they haven't, I'm going to have to advise something else," said Miriel. "We can never fully understand anything in this world, only understand it more. Go, speak with Iji. Hear what he has to say. Use powers of discernment to understand between what we wish to be true and what is true."

With those cryptic words, Ranni was to continue on her way. There were portals in the Church of Vows that led both to Raya Lucaria's Academy and the Carian Manor, but Ranni needed to see everything she could. Blaidd was more than capable of protecting her from any casual dangers that slipped under Marika's watch.

Across two bridges that took them by the academy of Raya Lucaria and then on the road that took her home, she went.

All she saw from her journey was what she had already known. It was like wandering an endless road in search of some answers. But Marika had locked those answers away somewhere in her past.

There was a sense of relief when Ranni saw the dark blue tunics of the Carian knights patrolling the roads. They would stop and bow as Ranni and Blaidd rode by. But there was a troubled feeling that surrounded them. There was no pride in their step or laughter in their speech. They showed their respects but stared at Ranni as though in a cautious optimism that perhaps Rennala’s daughter had returned to rebuild their house.

And at last Ranni and Blaidd arrived at the Carian Manor, where the royal family resided. Ranni and her two brothers were born here. She stopped counting how many times Radagon told her the story of when he first held her. She imagined he told Radahn and Rykard all about their births as well.

She found Iji, strangely enough on the road outside of the manor, sitting by his anvil with a book in hand. He still wore the mirrored mask to prevent the meddling of the old Fell Gods who his race had once bowed down to. It allowed him to focus enough to grow past his nature and understand the various workings of the universe. The old troll grew a fondness for smithing and reading, but he had a workshop out on the grounds within the manor walls.

He at first didn’t seem to see her and Blaidd, as he was often engrossed in his own thoughts. Soon, he closed his book and took a deep breath.

“Ah, I know that face,” said Iji.

Ranni smiled, “Hello Iji.”

"It is so good to see you here again," said Iji.

"Yes. And I fear I hadn't time much for pleasantries. A matter being rather urgent at this moment," said Ranni.

“Does the princess wish for her knight to escort her through the deep, dark woods,” said Iji.

He referred to a game they played when Ranni was a tiny child.

“No, I’m afraid not,” said Ranni.

“How about I do anyway? For old time’s sake,” said Iji. He held out his hand.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to have me play the big, bad wolf again,” sighed Blaidd.

“Is that thy wish?” Ranni asked with a grin.

Iji was anxious to point out how well he maintained the grounds exactly how Lady Rennala would like it. Even with that attention to detail, the manor was already stripped of everything that made it home. And it concerned Ranni that he seemed to refer to her mother in the past tense.

In places like this, good and bad memories all ran together to where it was impossible to separate them. The amusing childhood games played with Iji and Blaidd were undercut with sitting in the library with her brothers and pretending they didn’t hear their parent’s screaming at each other.

“But I imagine you are not here to discuss the blue flowers,” said Iji.

"It's my brother. He has halted the stars."

“I am well aware. And I understand that without a path into Nokron, you cannot progress on your path," said Iji.

“I’m not sure what awaits me in Nokron. That makes it difficult for others to understand,” said Ranni. “There are no records of what is there.”

“Marika made sure that all knowledge of her rivals civilizations were destroyed along with them. For one who proclaims herself both the first and the last goddess of the Lands-Between, it wouldn’t serve her well if that claim could be challenged,” said Iji. “It’s possible your stepmother is aware what was in Nokron, but it’s also equally as possible that it was merely cut off within the madness of her expanding campaigns.”

“My good relation with my stepmother had always leaned on me not asking too many questions about her past. In many ways, I would rather forget the entire thing and merely live my life in service of the Golden Order,” said Ranni.

“If that is what you want, then you can be assured that Blaidd and I are at your disposal,” said Iji.

“I’m not sure. Could I war with my father and brother?”

“You trust me to be honest, do you not? If I were to look at the matter from all angles, it would mean a difficult road for the Lands-Between. There have always been divisions among the various schools of thought, but the recent turn of events, I fear have forced those rifts wide open. Had I been sitting in your father’s throne, I might have been forced to make to make the same decision,” said Iji.

“I think it’s time my mother stop mourning my father’s leaving and begin to take up her crown again,” said Ranni.

Despite his mirrored mask, Ranni could sense there was something amiss.

“I am not sure your mother would be capable of such a task,” said Iji.

"What happened to my mother?

The way Ranni had known her Rennala was as a woman who had maintained her composure even in the worst of times.

There were still challenges from others, of course, particularly her decision to place her family as royalty. Those who doubted her theories and place as head of the academy were often put in place by her fierce wit and force of personality. She made even the highest respected scholars look like fools.

Yet, Rennala managed to maintain respect through the arrangement of free and open dialogue. The entire garden of the manor was converted into a forum where those who wished to talk openly away from the listening walls of Raya Lucaria.

When Ranni walked out to the garden, she was met with a woman who barely resembled herself. Her hair was wild like it hadn’t been combed in weeks.

She waded in the freezing water while looking up at the stars. She pleaded to them to release the fates to flow again.

Loretta, the manor guard had grown accustomed to these wanderings, but for Ranni, it was a terrifying sight. The woman who taught her since the day she could walk always look further than what she could see with her own eyes.

“How long has she been like this?” Ranni asked.

“A while, I’m afraid,” replied Loretta. “I don’t know what happened to start it.”

“What words must I speak to the stars for them to listen? Why hideth in thy shroud the path of the moon? It is the moon that holdeth thee!”

“Mother?” said Ranni.

“Resume thy movements!”

“Mother, stop!” said Ranni, grabbing Rennala’s shoulders. “Stop! It’s Radahn who holds the stars. Radahn, thy son.”

Rennala put her hand on Ranni’s cheek.

“But Radahn is but a little boy. He rides his little horse through the grounds,” said Rennala. She smiled. “What a fair little boy he is with his little horse. He’s so tender with that horse.”

“Radahn is a grown. As are we all.”

“No, my little sweetings are all tucked away in their beds. Their little heads are tenderly resting on their pillows.”

Ranni lowered her head.

“Mother, please. Come. Let’s go lay down a moment,” said Ranni.

“No!” cried Rennala. “My little babies cry. I must go. I must go see them all.”

“I’m right here, mother,” said Ranni. She took hold of her mother's cheeks and placed her forehead against Rennala's. “I’m right here.”

"The moon, like a flower

In heaven's high bower,

With Silent delight,

Sits and smiles on the night." - William Blake Poem

Chapter Text

Rennala was on her knees in front of the open window as the shine of the moon cascaded over her. She clasped her hands together in prayer as she pleaded with the night that once heeded her command.

She looked better after Ranni brushed out her hair and helped her change clothes. There were even fleeting moments, no more than a minute or two, where Rennala was lucid enough to recognize her daughter and exchange a few words. A full conversation was possible, but it left Ranni with hope that her mother was still somewhere inside that shell.

"Why doth thou obey the will of the stars, o' Moon? Obey thy own will! Shy not away from the Sun that gifts thee with thine enteral light. The stars shall have no majesty over thee," said Rennala.

Rykard pinched the bridge of his nose before he gave a wave for the preceptor to shut the door.

"How long has she been this way?" Rykard asked.

"No one could precisely say," said Ranni.

Rykard sighed, "I suppose if those twats at the academy ever wanted to discredit her ability, they now have their chance."

"I caution ye against breathing a word of this to anyone," said Ranni.

"The academy has a right to strong leadership," said Radahn.

"Oh, and whom hast thou in mind? I suppose we could always allocate the whereabouts of that witch Sellen. I hear that she is more than willing to wear Mother's robes. I'm told primeval current is just what the Lands-Between needs."

"Mother isn't who she used to be, Ranni," said Radahn.

"Bold words for one who had caused the focus of these delusions," said Ranni.

Radahn kicked a chair, smashing it to pieces. "I did not cause this!"

"Thou hast turned against thy own mother, family, and legacy and become a puppet to the Golden Order," said Ranni.

"And you'll have nothing but your own way regardless of who must pay the price for it," said Radahn.

"This isn't about me. It's about mother."

"She's gone, Ranni. We must accept that first before we can do anything else."

"She's not gone. I've spoken with her. She's there," said Ranni.

"Ranni, she may be there for a moment, but that is not the same. Look at her! Why can't you see what's really happening?" said Rykard.

"Because I can't do this on my own!" cried Ranni. The tears started to come, and Ranni stormed out.

She went out to the garden, where she and her brothers often escaped when they did not wish to be caught up in their parents' constant fighting.

In her heart, Ranni knew that it wasn't as simple as a single incident causing this. The days after Radagon left Rennala would lay in bed often for weeks on end, refusing to speak and barely eating.

When the Golden Order came under Radagon's instruction to take the children, Rennala hadn't the strength or will to fight for them. She watched them go, not even saying goodbye and that hurt the worst.

Radagon insisted that his decision was not done with any ill intent for Rennala, but out of concern that her ability to care for three children - the youngest only seven - was impaired.

The contention within the walls of the academy didn't help either. They politely called them "schools of thought" but everyone knew they were nothing more than political factions who sought to make their own mark. Those like Sellen, went as far as to dabble into dangerous magics for no other reason than to contend for the place as headmaster with a discovery that eclipsed Rennala's.

In a healthier state of mind, Rennala dealt with these matters. She had to. The Carian's claim on nobility depended on them holding their grip on the Academy and its leadership. Now, Ranni feared it was only a matter of time before one of these factions did something so extreme, that it would force Marika to intervene in the only way she knew how; complete annihilation.

Rykard soon found Ranni out in the garden, looking up at the stars where her destiny lay.

"I could see why Mother spent so much time looking for their secrets," said Rykard.

"This isn't about the stars or destiny or whatever else ye accuse me of," said Ranni.

"I know. It's about Mother."

"I need her," said Ranni.

"You've been forced to grow without her. What makes you come back here?" said Rykard.

"I'm pregnant and I don't know what to do," said Ranni. Tears began to well up again.

She was shaking when Rykard took her in his arms.

"Did he force you?" Rykard asked. Ranni shook her head. "Then pray, tell me. Why are you so upset, dear sister?"

Once Ranni began talking about it to Rykard, she couldn't stop. All her fears. All her pain. Things she didn't mention to Radagon when she spoke to him. As she let it out, she began to think that perhaps it wasn't so bad that Radahn stopped the stars if what Godwyn showed that night represented the measure of his lordship. She even confessed that she felt his long absence in Limgrave was nothing more than a sorry attempt to escape.

"Despite what I think about that brainless fiancee of yours," began Rykard. "Perhaps it wouldn't be so fair to pass such judgments on Godwyn. At the very least he knows how to keep those twin prodigies occupied. I tried it once. It ended in disaster. They kept wanting to play with one of those crabs."

He managed to get a laugh from Ranni.

"I tell you all what?" said Rykard. He took Ranni's hands, "Let's all go home together. Back to Leyndell. We can talk about this and mend things along the way. Be like old times when Father and Mother used to take us with them when looking over the kingdom."

"What about mother?" Ranni asked.

"What can really be done for her if we were to be honest? She barely even recognizes any of us, let alone would allow any help. Best we keep her here where there are people able to watch over her, and she's out of sight of those trying to steal her throne," said Rykard.

Ranni reluctantly agreed.

The Carians only stayed a few days longer, each spending time with their mother, both together and individuals. But it was impossible to tell if their words meant anything to her. She was slumped over in her chair with her head staring off at nothing. Attempts to bring her out of her hollow shell, be it by recalling memories, or appealing to her instincts as a mother, seemed not to pull a response from her.

"You're to be a grandmother. Does that not thrill thee?" Ranni asked. She closed her eyes. "Oh, Mother. Can we not share the joy of life once more?"

The preceptor opened the door to allow Blaidd to come in.

"Mistress Ranni? It's time to go," said Blaidd. "The others are waiting."

"I know, Blaidd," she replied.

She another look at Rennala and promised she'd return soon to check on things before she kissed her mother's cheek.

"Ranni?" said Rennala just as her daughter reached the door.

"Mother?" said Ranni.

"Weave thy night into being," she said.

Ranni was puzzled, almost shocked. She returned to her mother and begged her to say more, but there was nothing. Rennala went back to the recess of her mind; to the muttering, sighs, and gasps of a world she could only see.

The old royal carriage had sat tired for a long time, indicating just how long it had been since Rennala last left the manor. It was still in good condition, aside from a broken wheel that Iji repaired. They all patiently waited while Ranni had one more word with Iji.

"I hope thou understands that what was said concerning my brother halting the stars is to be left fully confidential. Not even Blaidd is aware of these details," said Ranni.

"Of course I hadn't, but I'm curious why you have not mentioned it," said Iji.

"My stepmother warned me extensively to never tell a shadow everything. And Blaidd is the type who would challenge Radahn if he were to know the full importance of this."

"And I imagine he'd lose."

"Yes. And end up dead or in an evergael," said Ranni.

"Fair enough. To the grave goes this secret goes, among others."

"Please, continue caring for Mother. I'll return as soon as I can, my dear Iji," she said.

"Perhaps to show your mother her grandchildren?"

Ranni smiled and then climbed into the carriage with Rykard's help. He climbed in next to her with Blaidd at the helm. Radahn, naturally, insisted on riding Leonard. It was for the better since he had grown far too big to fit in the carriage anyway. The last thing Ranni and Rykard wanted was to fight over legroom as they had when they were children.

Radahn approached the old troll who held out his hand for a shake. "What formality is this? Come here you old troll," laughed Radahn and he pulled Iji into an embrace. "Thank you for caring for our mother."

"It is always an honor for me," said Iji.

Rennala watched them leave from the window. And whether she really knew it or not, it wasn't certain. Some might say there might have been a tinge of recognition as she couldn't move her eyes away from the carriage. As though she remembered there was something important leaving her, but could not place what.

The only thing that seemed to break her trance was the sound of something laid on the table next to her.

"My beloved," she gasped.

Radagon laid his hand on her cheek. She kissed it and leaned her head to feel his touch.

"I vow to be by thy side. Always faithful to thee, my beloved consort," said Rennala.

But as soon as he came, Radagon vanished. In a moment of confusion, Rennala looked around. But he was gone. And all that was left on the end table was a golden egg.

Using the carriage forced them to take a different route than when they had first come. Instead of the shortcut rock bridge, they traveled south to where the road connected to a junction that led east. From there, they could travel north through Raya Lucaria and find the bridge back to the Altus Plateau.

It wasn't as fast, but it did give the siblings time to talk and was a better route for the carriage. At first, it was joking banter between Rykard and Radahn. Rykard teased Radahn about how he had insisted that he should ride Leonard even when he was clearly too large for the animal.

"I'm carrying him with my magic," insisted Radahn.

"Are you aware of how horses are supposed to work?" replied Rykard.

Ranni covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, but her face grew pale and she covered her mouth with her hand.

"Sister? Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry. I need to stop for a moment," said Ranni.

"Of course," said Rykard.

Ranni stepped out to lean up against a tree, she wasn't sure how she might make the rest of the way back. There were no portals that led directly from the manor or Raya Luciara into Leyndell.

Radahn dismounted and handed Ranni his water flask.

"Thank you. I'm fine, really," she insisted as she held her belly.

Radahn rubbed Ranni's back and kissed her cheek before he returned to his horse.

"I knew that cad couldn't control his cock," scoffed Radahn as he watched Ranni struggle to not vomit.

"You were the one that demanded I 'prove' he was a problem before we said anything to Ranni," replied Rykard.

"I'm not talking about mistresses or old flings. I'm talking about disrespecting us. He does that because he thinks we can do nothing in return," said Radahn.

"We can't. He's the queen's son. What can we threaten him with?"

"I already have a plan," grinned Radahn.

"Fine. Do what you want. But don't be doing anything foolish. If our sister wants to make things work, we ought to respect that," said Rykard. "No more halting things for her."

It was some time before Ranni stopped heaving and she could stand up straight. It was rather embarrassing to do this in front of her siblings and a few of her mother's esteemed knights. People talked, and Ranni didn't want any rumors circling around when Godwyn didn't even know yet.

When Ranni was better, she spotted Blaidd coming up the road.

At first, Ranni was confused. She was certain that her shadow was somewhere near the carriage with the rest of the escort and he wasn't one to leave her side lest he sense there was danger. She called his name, but Blaidd didn't respond.

His pace was also slow, but it picked up as he got near the princess. He lifted back his arm where there was something in his hand, when Blaidd, the real Blaidd, pounced from behind a bush and tackled the imposture to the ground. Whatever it was in his hand, broke upon impact and Blaidd held the creature down as he snarled.

Radahn cast a spell that pinned the imposture to the ground, which allowed Blaidd to release him.

"Are you okay, Mistress Ranni?" Blaidd asked.

She shook her head before Blaidd led her back toward the carriage.

"Well, this is very cleverly made," said Rykard as he pulled the mask from the imposture's face. "How about you tell me what you are up to and I won't have my brother crush every bone in your body."

The imposture gave a gurgle with foam that came from the corner of his mouth.

"Hello?" said Rykard as he waved his hand in front of the man's face. His eyes were opened and moving, but they stared off into nothing. He drew breath, but there was no consciousness. It was for sure alive, but there was no will or mind of its own. No more aware than the wooden puppets who patrolled Liurnia.

"Let's go," said Rykard. He handed the mask to one of the accompanying Preceptors, who looked at it and squeezed it in his anger.

"What about mother?" Ranni asked.

"The manor is the safest place for her until we can find some other arrangements," said Radahn.

"When will that happen?"

"I'll get a place made for her in Caelid. For now, you and your little babes are more important," said Radahn. "Please, trust me for once."

Ranni nodded.

"Yes, protect those little babes," muttered Selivus from his tower on the manor. He looked over the notes that he had meticulously kept for the last few days. "The little babes you made with that disgusting queen's golden boy."

It had been a week since Ranni and her brothers left the manor. Despite the orders to search everywhere, Selivus was able to hide away the rest of the puppets so that they wouldn't find them. No one even knew he was there. They assumed him back at Leyndell searching through that filthy demigod's drawers.

Selivus had planned every single thing down to the detail. He found a wolf with the right colored fur and spent weeks crafting it to look just like Blaidd, down to the lazy eye and scars. A victim who happened to have the same height and stature as the man-wolf. His posture was a bit different, but so long as he acted quickly, no one might notice.

He arranged to return to the manor. He arranged to trade duties with one of the other preceptors who thought nothing of it. He even prevented Blaidd from catching his scent to recognize him. All he needed was for Ranni to show up at the manor and that was only a matter of time.

The brothers weren't planned, but they were not an obstacle anyway so long as they didn't suspect anything. All the puppet had to do was splash the potion on the princess and she'd be his. Sure, it was not as good as if he managed to get her to drink it, but it was enough to make her his.

"Where could it have all gone wrong?" said Selivus. He slumped down in his chair. He gave a sigh, "How could a princess ever love a little man like me?"

"Middle life is the moment of greatest unfolding. when a man still gives himself to his work with his whole strength and his whole will." - (Fabricious, 98)

Chapter Text

Miquella sat at his desk with books and papers stacked up high on every flat surface of his room, save the small space for his paper and quill. He scribbled, crossed out, flipped through the pages of his books, and then with a loud sigh, began scribbling again.

When Ranni came in, she was surprised at how it seemed the young boy grew. Of course, it was impossible! The nature of Miquella's curse was that he could never grow and his body remained that of a two-year-old child. So, to see this, Ranni wasn't sure what to make of it.

Malenia on the other hand, was curled up on the chair, looking a little worse for wear and bored. Her shoulder hadn't healed as intended and Ranni could see the scarlet rot was bothering her a bit. It was a surprise she managed to make it out of bed at all as sores began forming on the soles of her feet.

"Come on, Miquella. Can't you read me a story? You can do that later," Malenia begged.

"I'm doing this for you," snapped Miquella. "So, stop breaking my concentration."

He slipped off his chair and began to pull the books from his shelves and throw them on the ground. He then paced around the room before he sat back at his desk.

"They were right here!" Miquella cried. "Where could they have gone?"

"Miquella, I have obtained what thou hath asked," said Ranni.

Miquella told her to put the papers on his desk but showed little interest in them.

"He's still upset about his notes," explained Malenia. "It's been weeks, and they haven't come up."

"The loss of things isn't always terrible. Sometimes it forces one to look in a different direction. Look, there's perhaps something here of some interest," said Ranni. She thumbed through the papers and pulled out one parchment in particular. "This here is a technique known as consecration. Before Marika's became the One Goddess, other gods were said to use it to ward off the meddling of their rivals."

"It's just a theory," said Miquella. "Not any better than all those other theories."

"Perhaps, but this has the benefit of a trustworthy source," said Ranni. "You wouldn't believe what animal he is."

"A dog!" exclaimed Malenia.

"No," laughed Ranni. "A very wise turtle. He's a good friend of my mother's and maybe even older than the Erdtree. And I'm certain that even if it is not accurately depicted in these references, then thy mother would surely recall the technique."

Malenia laughed at the thought of a giant talking turtle, but Miquella wasn't amused. He lashed out at his sister for not taking these matters seriously and helping him find his notes, which stunned Malenia.

"Miquella?" said Ranni.

"I'll look at it. But everything I worked for. I spent hours on those notes. Some of them came from the perfumers and the perfumers never write anything down."

"What about this?" Ranni asked, picking up one of the pieces of paper.

"It's a sleeping spell," said Miquella. "It's the only thing I can find."

"It's torture," scoffed Malenia.

"It helps so it doesn't hurt anymore," said Miquella.

"The dreams still hurt," said Malenia.

"Would you rather they cut your arm off while you're awake?"

Malenia grew quiet and began rubbing her shoulder where her arm once was. It still hurt, sometimes a great deal and Malenia struggled with the healing process. She had nightmares about losing her remaining limbs and no one could reassure her. Already the scarlet rot began to writhe again.

Malenia got up out of her chair and limped away. Miquella went to go after her, but Ranni stopped him.

"Little Sister... I'm sorry... I didn't mean it like that," said Miquella. "I didn't mean to say that."

"What's said is said and cannot be revoked," said Ranni.

"I don't want her to leave. Please, tell me she won't leave," said Miquella.

Ranni hugged him and assured him that Malenia couldn't go anywhere. She was upset, and understandably so. As noble as it was for Miquella to take it upon himself to help Malenia, he had to understand that Malenia also needed the will to live. Things like reading to her and visiting her when she couldn't leave her sickbed were just as important as the cure itself.

"Miquella has been so mean," said Malenia. She held Mr. Margit's hand as they walked through the wild garden in the warm afternoon.

"It is not you who makes him angry. It was a terrible day when thou was nearly lost to him. Control over emotions, particularly anger can take time to learn and master," said Mr. Margit. He noticed Malenia struggled to walk and looked a bit sick. "Shall I carry thee?"

Malenia nodded and Margit picked her up. Malenia laughed, happy to be off her sore feet, "I can reach the branches!"

"Of course! Thou art the most tallest lady in the Lands-Between. Beautiful just like the Fair Lady," said Mr. Margit. He took her to the bed of lilies that Miquella left him as a gift for helping the two of them. He had ensured all the other weeds were cleared away so that they may thrive. "Did I ever say how I have a brother too?"

Malenia shook her head.

"We didn't always get along either. Sometimes hurtful things are said and done because we're scared we might lose the people we love."

Malenia giggled, "What was his name?"

Mr. Margit was about to say when they heard someone calling for Malenia.

"That's Radahn," said Malenia.

"Now, what would a general want with thee?" said Mr. Margit.

"I don't know," said Malenia.

"Malenia, your mother is looking for you," said Radahn.

Mr. Margit grew suspicious. Perhaps Radahn's mother had to call for her brood but Queen Marika needn't ever "look" for her children. And even if she did, she wouldn't send her General to fetch them.

"You should hide," whispered Malenia. She kissed Mr. Margit on the cheek and then asked to be put down. "I'll get him to go away so he doesn't see you."

Radahn scratched the back of his head. To see Miquella upset and say he didn't know where Malenia went was worrisome. The twins were never separated since the day they were born and each struggled with their curses.

"And what are you doing in there?" Radahn asked when Malenia appeared.

"Nothing," said Malenia.

Radahn was skeptical. "You're not supposed to be in there."

"Guards aren't supposed to be in there. Mama says I can do what I want," said Malenia.

"I see," said Radahn. He started to examine the tree line.

"Don't look in there," said Malenia.

"I can do what I want too," said Radahn.

"No, you can't. You're the general and you have to be an example for your soldiers," said Malenia.

"You don't like to lose, do you?" scoffed Radahn. "Fine. I hope you're not too spoiled. You're coming with me for a bit."

Malenia was puzzled, "Where?"

"Just for a bit," said Radahn.

Mr. Margit didn't like it. It was near evening, which was far too late for a casual ride, and the way that Radahn switched his stories as to why he wanted Malenia was suspicious.

There were many secrets in Lands-Between of the Erdtree and Marika herself; some in plain sight and others that her other offspring couldn't possibly know about. As her firstborn and one his mother once called "divine", Mr. Margit was privy to many of them.

He placed his hand on the golden bark and said, "Mother, is it by thy command he takes her? I will risk myself to bring her back to thee if it not be thy will, Mother."

He waited a moment as the world went silent. The birds, the breeze, and even the swaying of the other trees' branches.

The response came in the wrestling of the leaves and branches of the Erdtree.

The General intends her no harm, Morgott. Let him do as he pleases.

It was an awkward walk to the stables. Radahn didn't particularly know Malenia well since she was a child who spent most of her days on her sickbed. He would sit in with her, as all his siblings did from time to time, during her bad days, but she was often delirious and in agonizing pain. It wasn't long before Radahn couldn't do it anymore, and left to study magic at the first opportunity.

Radahn regretted that, but what was done was done and now Radahn had to ensure Malenia's well-being. If so much as a hair on Malenia's head was harmed, then Marika would rain down the entirety of her wrath. This was about sending a message to Godwyn that he couldn't mistreat Ranni and expect no consequence.

Radahn could tell that Malenia was suspicious. As they exited the gates of Leyndell, she continued to look back on the city's walls, but like a typical child, she hesitated to question the adults. Particularly not the elder brother who had always protected her.

They headed north up the side gate which led out to the Dominula up in the north.

"Did you know only certain people are allowed in Leyndell?" Radahn asked.

Malenia shook her head.

"Your mother is a goddess. Only those of the purest blood may look upon a goddess," said Radahn."So, we, her demigod children, go from place to place to enforce her will."

"If I become a goddess, can I still have friends?" Malenia asked.

Radahn wasn't sure, since it seemed the only person Marika was ever close to was Godfrey and her children. She was certainly never seen with her husband Radagon and it wasn't hard to decern the two didn't seem happy together.

"I'm sure you can do what you want at that point," said Radahn. He looked out to the road ahead. "Speaking of friends, there's one of mine!"

The Redmane Knight Ogha approached with his helmet tucked under his arm and disguised as a Leyndell knight. He bowed to the general with one hand across his chest. He was an older man and among the first to join the Redmanes when Radahn took command at the age of fifteen. He would say, that the moment he laid eyes on the young commander, he knew the youth had great potential to lead beyond any other demigod before him.

A few Redmanes disguised as nobles stood outside a coffin cart. It was the perfect guise since most Erdtree burials happened at night when the Night's Calvary could attend them.

"The path has been cleared of any and all threats. We're ready to escort you and the little lady back to Caelid, General," said Ogha.

"What about the man I asked you to find?"

"He's waiting at your castle, but he's none too pleased that we 'deceived him.'"

"Would he have come if I told him the truth?"

"To be fair, probably not," said Ogha.

Radahn picked Malenia up and set her on the back of the cart before he ordered his men to prepare to move out. It wasn't long before Marika would check in on her young children and find Malenia missing. Radahn intended to be as far from Leyndell as possible when that happened.

Malenia had never been outside the outer gate of Leyndell and never outside the palace after dark, so was upset as it grew dark. The creaking sound of the turning windmill blades began to scare her as they were new and strange noises.

"Radahn," cried Malenia. "I don't feel well."

"You're okay."

"I want Mama," said Malenia. She clutched the stump of her arm with tears rolling down her face.

"Hey, you need to be brave and try to sleep," said Radahn. He promised he'd have the surgeon look at the arm once they reached Redmane castle.

Malenia couldn't. There wasn't a single night that the queen didn't come and hold her until she fell asleep. To do without that comfort was impossible.

Radahn tucked her in a blanket and they set off.

Now, Malenia was scared as the strange noises from the creatures continued. She heard the shrieks of land octopuses and the puffs of land squirts as they entered the territory of Liurnia. But it was the haunting song of the chanting winged dame that scared her the most and caused her to hide under the blanket. The only assurance was hearing Radahn's voice as he laughed with his men, showing her that he was still nearby. When she started to whimper, Radahn told the men to stop a moment. He went to Malenia, and rearranged the blanket to ensure she was warm.

“Shhh… It’s okay Little Sister. I won’t go anywhere,” said Radahn.

Soon, she curled up and drifted into a haze.

Her dream brought her under the canopy of the Erdtree. There was Marika, sitting on the grass with a scroll in her hand, reading as she usually did whenever she had time for leisure.

Without saying a word, Malenia ran to her mother and crawled into Marika's lap. Marika kissed her head and then resumed reading. As strange as it was, the two never exchanged much for words. Marika was her mother, and that was all Malenia ever cared to know.

They traveled south through Liurnia where Radahn and his group made a brief stop for some rest. He checked on Malenia who was curled up asleep and sucking her thumb. He smiled and pulled the blanket up to her shoulder to keep her warm.

They passed Stormveil castle into Limgrave and soon arrived at the green prairies of the Caelid wilds. It was beautiful with the flowers in full bloom and few trees scattered throughout. Radahn was tempted to wake Malenia to show her where they were, but he decided to let her rest. She was nearly blind anyway. Soon, they arrived at the bridge that led into Redmane Castle and Radahn gave a sigh of relief that his plan went off without any problems.

"Hey, wake up," said Radahn. He pulled Malenia's thumb from her mouth.

She sat up and looked around at the unfamiliar place. The courtyard was full of activity. Washerwomen cleaning clothes, stable boys brushing off the horses, the blacksmith repairing the weapons. They all made noises that were loud compared to the sanctuary of the Erdtree. What little Malenia could still see showed that it was bustling with activity as the blurry forms of people walked by. Redmane castle was always in a constant state of war since they began their campaign on the stars and Radahn was thankful they so far only faced some retaliation from a few falling stars that managed to break through his gravity barriers.

"Where you'll be staying for a bit," said Radahn as he helped her out of the hearse and sat her down in the fine dirt. Her bandages needed changing and her sores treated, so he called for the army surgeon.

Ogha approached and said Radahn's guest was waiting and growing impatient. Radahn knelt down in front of Malenia.

"Stay with Ogha, Little Sister. He'll tell you some funny stories," said Radahn. He patted Ogha on the shoulders, "Tell her that one where your saddle got caught in the trees."

A dark-skinned man stood within the ranks of the Redmanes. He was part of a group Marika had called the "blue men" within her poems, owing to the color of their cloaks and turbans. She described among those who served Godfrey during the wars, and now known as the Tarnished. Around his eyes was a gray cloth to keep the sun from his eyes that often irritated them.

When he stood, he was almost as tall as a Numan, but not quite. Beneath his robes held a fold of muscles from a lifetime of training and deep scars from a lifetime of battle. As instructed by Radahn, the Redmanes did not insult the old master by asking him to remove his armaments, though he was able to defeat any one of them.

He disdain towards Markia and, by extension, her demigod children. That was understandable since she banished all his students and kinsmen from the Lands-Between.

Radahn introduced himself, and the swordsman replied, "I wanted no dealings with any of Marika's children."

"Am I her child?" said Radahn.

"A distinction with no difference."

"Deception is always part of war."

"War? What war are you fighting, General?"

"I am, but that's not why you're here," said Radahn. "I have a little girl with me who's fighting her own war against your old enemy."

"Oh, no, no. I am not interested in fighting that fiend again. The natural order of birth and decay isn't something for mere men to interfere."

"I'm a demigod. And we're not talking about a balance of anything. She's already lost her arm and is mostly blind like yourself," said Radahn.

"That is a tragedy indeed, but can also be seen as what is meant to be."

"She's a child," said Radahn. "An Empyrean child. So rest assured that means your old enemy will return sooner rather than later if you don't help us."

The Swordsman went quiet.

"If you can't help her, then tell me how I can," said Radahn.

"Fine. I will. But only for the child's sake, not for Marika's. Take me to her," said the swordsman.

Malenia was squatted down in the dirt breathing hard and in a self-soothing rocking. She aggressively sucked her thumb as Ogha tried to get her attention. It seemed like any further stress might break her in two.

"Malenia, this is..." said Radahn. He turned back to the Swordsman, "I'm not sure your name."

"Call me Medjai. That's as good a name as any," said the Swordsman.

Medjai knelt down in front of her.

"Hello, little one. Don't be afraid. I assure you that I am not dangerous," he said with a smile. "You poor little thing. You are in such bad shape."

"She has open sores that won't heal."

"Unbandage them."

"And let them become infected?"

"You ask me for what I think and I tell you. Unbandage her arms. Is she educated?" said Medjai.

"She can't see."

"Then teach her what you can. Teach her how to lead. Does she like to play?"

"Whenever she's feeling up to it."

"No! She must play all the time. Even when she does not feel like playing. What is inside her feeds off stillness. The illness she feels is all a trick of that creature so she remains stagnant," said Medjai. "Find her someone to play with."

"Ogha, is that little girl you and the men found in that filth still at the castle? The one whose drunk father we threw into the gael?" Radahn whispered.

"We couldn't find anyone to take her in, so the men decided to adopt her."

"What's her name?"

"Finlay."

Radahn raised an eyebrow, "That wasn't her name."

"Hearing her name terrified her, General. So, we call her Finlay. You know, it means 'courage.'"

"Tell her to come. She has a new job. One she's better suited for than carrying water and cleaning stables," said Radahn.

"She's a bit shy."

"If you were a six-year-old girl, surrounded by ugly men, you'd be a bit shy too. Time she has another child her own age," said Radahn.

Somehow, Medjai was able to get Malenia's attention. Medjai was doing a silly dance, with his arms spread out and leaping around, alternating from one foot to the next. Malenia giggled and tried to imitate him, fell down a couple times, but was all too eager to try again.

Ogha came back with a young girl, about Malenia's age - though no one really knew for sure - at his side. She had sandy blond hair, white skin, and gold-colored eyes which were different from the sickly pale dirty child the Redmanes found. They had taken good care of her, with each one treating her as his own. But Ogha was truly the one that the girl saw as her protector. The one who found her took her back to the camp, ensured she was fed, and gave her a new name to go with her new life.

New life was so rare in the Lands-Between that any choice to harm it was an act of blasphemy. So, the Redmanes treated it as such.

"Malenia, this is Finlay. She'll show you the ropes around here," said Radahn.

The girls looked at each other for a moment, not sure what to do with the introduction. Finally, Malenia said, "You want to dance with us?"

"The old masters were wont to call this work their white swan, their albefication, or making white, their sublimation, distillation, circulation, and purification." (qt. Fabricious, 137).

Chapter Text

Fortissax watched the funeral progression as it crossed into Caelid. Such strange rituals of humans. They place bodies into the ground in a ceremony of weeping and wailing so that they might be pulled back into the roots of the Erdtree. But this is what Marika's age demanded since that very day she planted and grew the Erdtree from the destroyed and decaying stump of the Great Tree.

It was when Fortissax spotted Radahn among their numbers that he grew curious. The dragon hadn't heard about any great heroes or champions passing away recently that would warrant this level of honor. Surely, the other demigods would attend if that was the case.

"A bit unusual indeed," said Kristoff.

"I'll follow it. You and your companion ought to say something to Godwyn," said Fortissax.

"Of course. Leave me to that," said Kristoff.

Godwyn sat on his throne with his hand under his chin and in a deep state of meditation. The stay in Limgrave was longer than he anticipated. Still, his sermons and prayers caused the people to desire and demand more of his time and attention.

He resented it.

That dream lay at the forefront of his mind. The one where he found himself outside a cave which he would enter. Only, he wasn't himself, but he was his father, Godfrey. And he would come upon the woman who lay naked upon her black cloak before him, inviting Godwyn to embrace her beauty. He would go to her and allow the cold hands of the one who was now both his mother and his lover to caress him. He would spill his seed in her until she had conceived him.

The only one who knew was the Finger Reading Crone, who had nursed him since infancy. She interpreted the dream as a coming of the new age and one that spun Death into Order. One in which he was reborn as a great rune that would bond to the Elden Ring contained within his mother, the queen, and thus, birth him anew as prince of this new age.

Oh! The power! One where he could rise above his father, not subservient to his queen, but lord over her. And yet, it terrified him at the same time. A thing he both wanted and didn't desire.

"My Prince?"

"Huh?" said Godwyn.

Godwyn's advisor and good friend, Kenneth Haight, showed Kristoff in.

Kenneth was a blond-haired man who often gave the impression that he was nothing more than an arrogant noble. The truth was that Kenneth came across as though he knew more than others because he usually did. Kenneth's knowledge of the various wants and desires of the lesser nobles and neither shared nor had patience for them. If a man showed no aptitude for rule, he wasn't afraid to say so, as station meant nothing to him. He believed that nobles served the people, not the other way around.

Queen Marika once offered Kenneth an estate under the canopy of the Erdtree to which he declined, stating that he preferred to remain out of the sight of and underestimated by his political opponents. Queen Marika, impressed with his answer but annoyed he declined her gift, was said to offer him a dilapidated shack out by the seashore next. That must have been too much overcompensation for Kenneth because the two eventually settled on a humble fortress beyond the forest.

"Kristoff? I thought you were in Leyndell," said Godwyn.

"There was a call for a communion," said Kristoff. "We're here for that."

"Well, have a seat! Please. We'll get some wine," said Godwyn.

"Are you okay?"

"Quite. I'm merely concerned," said Godwyn. "Many people, even common people, are concerned about Mother's apparent loss of power. They question whether the Erdtree had become too large to sustain itself. So, I'm here to assure them otherwise."

Kristoff nodded, "People's faith can be fickle."

"It's made worse when they interpret my engagement to a Carian Princess, and the hasty conception and birth of my Empyrean siblings is a sign that end is nearer than it is far," said Godwyn.

"Maybe it is," said Kristoff.

"I hope not, but Ranni has a point when she says we ought to face the reality that we cannot hold onto this age forever."

"I thought your fiancee's age was meant as a continuation of the Golden Order," said the woman who had accompanied Kristoff.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, my prince. How rude of me not to introduce my companion."

"It's well. I apologize for getting so deep in my thoughts I forgot to see how many guests we have. And may I ask the fair lady's name?"

"Tiche. And Tiche, may I introduce you to Prince Godwyn the Golden, though he doesn't need such introductions," said Kristoff.

"A pleasure," said Tiche.

"And where are you from?" Godwyn asked, taking note of her accent, long raven black hair, and green eyes that were never touched by Marika's grace.

She responded with a shy smile,

"Don't worry. My mother is a tree. More literally than people often care to think," said Godwyn.

"My mother is from outside these Lands. A Numan," replied Tiche.

"Ah, we have something in common. And your father?"

"That's complicated."

"Fair enough," said Godwyn. He kissed her hand. "Good luck with your trials. And remember that Lansseax is most fond of the disciples who give her the hardest time. Anyway, what brings the two of you here? I'm sure it's not just to chit-chat about cycling ages."

"Fortissax spotted a funeral progression entering into Caelid. It was headed by your stepbrother Radahn."

"Interesting. I wonder why I wasn't invited," said Godwyn.

"Or any of your family, for that matter," Tiche added.

"Well, Radahn has a romance for the older ways of things. Where funerals were something of an intimate space to honor the dead. He often despises how the Leyndell peacocks use them to flaunt their feathers," said Godwyn. "Still, someone ought to tell him how things are here, whether he likes them or not, before he offends the wrong person. You wish to join me?"

"No, thank y--"

"Actually, I wouldn't mind meeting the Great Red Lion. It would be an honor," said Tiche.

"Then it's settled. Let's get to the stables, and we'll find a set of horses," said Godwyn.

"Fine," said Kristoff. As the two left, he said, "Just don't fall for his charms."

Tiche looked back with a smile and winked.

The matter wasn't urgent, and they needn't rush. In fact, Godwyn wished that they reach Caelid after the Erdtree burial to avoid offending the sanctity of such rituals. So he spent some time showing Tiche the horses he bred and trained for his hobby, from the stout mounts used by the Night's Calvary to the more docile ones used by the caravan merchants who came through the Lands-Between. He had a reputation for giving them away if a merchant lost his mount for one reason or another, which earned him great respect.

The most prized of his herd was a young silver-speckled mare he intended to give Ranni as a wedding present.

"She's beautiful," remarked Tiche as she ran her hand over the horse's coat.

"Why don't you give her a try? She could use a little exercise," said Godwyn, and he called for his manservant to bring him reigns and saddles.

"In the old days of the Lands-Between, the mount of royalty was described as a small horned equine that could be summoned by a gold whistle," Godwyn continued. "Only those with the title of Queen or Lord were permitted to ride them. It was even said that the steed choosing you was seen as proof that you were indeed worthy of the title."

"From what I understand, that could extend to would-be Lords and Queens as well," said Tiche.

"I'm sure the rules got looser as things went on," said Godwyn as he finished preparing the horses.

"I don't believe they did," said Tiche. She took hold of the reigns to mount and winced.

"What's the matter?"

"It's nothing. Hurt my arm training is all," said Tiche.

"That can take some time to heal," said Godwyn as he helped her.

"Yes. It was a pretty bad break," said Tiche.

"What did you do?" Godwyn asked.

Tiche smiled, "Something foolish."

It was a beautiful day for riding as the sun managed to part the clouds and give a break in the rain. The wind still blew, and Godwyn had to tie his long blond hair back, but the air was warm despite it.

Tiche, as it turned out, was an experienced rider, which gave Godwyn little to do. He was already zoned out when they crossed the bridge beyond the Stormgate Village and toward the road that headed into Caelid.

"So, you're Marika's son," said Tiche.

"Oh, um, yes," said Godwyn.

"I hear much about her where I'm from. What is she actually like?"

The question wasn't surprising. It was usually the first question anyone asked, so Godwyn had the habit of making impersonal replies that appealed to naive piety.

"An all-powerful goddess full of endless mercy, grace, and prosperity," he said.

Tiche laughed, "I mean, as your mother. Surely, there's more to her than just being a goddess."

Godwyn never thought about that question. People seemed only interested in what Marika was more than who she was. This led to many making her more out as an idol of their ambition than anything else. If one envied, lusted, or was wrathful, they found as much cause within the doctrines of the Golden Order to exercise such vices as they had if they were charitable and loving.

"She's... um... shy, actually. Very shy," said Godwyn.

"So, no dinner parties?"

"More like she doesn't like people at all. But she's kind. Understanding even the worst parts of us. Sometimes more than what we ever deserve."

As he spoke of her, Godwyn sensed his mother's presence, which happened from time to time.

"My Son," said Marika as she held him. "My dear, beloved child. Doth thou truly torment thyself over lust for me?"

"I think of hardly anything else," sobbed Godwyn. "How can I love one such as her in the way I love you, Mother?"

"Thou cannot. My dear son, Ranni is not me. She is no goddess. Her love is not my love. I offer thee a love under no condition. Adore or despise me with all thy heart; it will make no difference in my love for thee, my child, son of my beloved Godfrey. All sorrow from this love is mine to bear; thou shalt never feel any pain. But Ranni's love is conditional and one of shared sorrow and pain. If thou continue to question which of us thou shall choose, stay in Stormveil indefinitely and see which of us would come to thee," said Marika.

"Godwyn? Are you okay?" Tiche asked.

Godwyn was confused. For a moment, he thought he was back in Leyndell with his mother, having the conversation he had months ago after his injury. Yet he was pulled back to it through time and space as a reminder. He often forgot how Marika bent time and space to her will, often using her grace to bring people back to a precise moment. Had she left him there, he would have been allowed to redo everything beyond that moment.

"Perhaps I asked too personal a question," said Tiche.

"It's fine, really," said Godwyn.

"Well, she does have a way of making an impression," said Godwyn.

"Look, Prince, this business with the general... is it really that important?"

"Not particularly, but I like to ruffle Radahn's feathers," said Godwyn.

Tishe stopped her horse and Godwyn shortly after.

A man stood up the road somewhat far from them, staring straight at them. At first, Godwyn and Tiche thought nothing of it, though it was odd. There were no villages or shires where he might have come from. It was like he was waiting for them.

There was something uneasy about him, so Godwyn asked Tiche to stay with the horses while he dismounted.

"You. Who are you to be out so far?" Godwyn asked.

"Godwyn the Golden. Son of Queen Marika and betrothed of Luner Princess Ranni. Such an interesting set of circumstances that we meet here today," said the man with a raspy, whispering voice. When Godwyn came near, he was agast to see a burning yellow in the man's eyes. Not a golden sheen, but wild, flaming eyes that swirled around.

"If you expect that I might know you, then you're sorely mistaken," said Godwyn.

"How rude of me. I am called Shabriri. Servant to the Three Fingers."

"Three-Fingers?"

"If Two-Fingers are good, perhaps three are better."

"If you're a servant of the Three-Fingers, then we have no more dealings," scoffed Godwyn. "Off with you."

"I disagree. My interests are in the resolution of division and schism. And I see it plenty within you. You may be done with the sin of envy towards his father and lust for his mother, but that sin is not done with you. Even if you choose one of them, as you will very soon, it will not matter. So, I propose a cleansing fire to you. One that could rid you of your sin."

"And raze everything else to the ground with it. If you think I'm ignorant of your frenzied flame and its power, you're sorely mistaken."

"Don't walk away. You'll only later wish you hadn't. You will soon wish you had taken my offer and watched the Erdtree burn. May chaos take the world!" cried Shebriri.

Godwyn and Tiche mounted their horses and rode around him. As they passed, he repeated his cries, which echoed through the cliffs of Limgrave. Each time he shouted, it sent a shiver through the demigod as part of him questioned if he was right.

Tiche raised an eyebrow.

"What in all the Lands-Between was that all about?" asked Tiche.

"An old 'friend,'" muttered Godwyn. He mounted his horse. "You're right. This isn't important. Let's go back."

Tiche looked back at the man with his hands outstretched and still cried out for the world to burn. She scratched the back of her head and followed Godwyn.

"The fireplace represents the sphere of hell, the abyss, chaos. Evil is ash." - (Roob 143)

Chapter Text

When they returned to Stormveil, Godwyn was greeted by one of his soldiers, who went by the odd name of Rick. He was an ordinary, quiet chap who inexplicitly knew Queen Marika personally and seemed to have for a long time. No one knew from where, only that if Marika came to Limgrave, she and Rick often had lengthy, casual chats.

Rick informed Godwyn that some important guests waited for him in the throne room. This puzzled the young prince, as he had neither invited anyone nor had there been any requests for an audience. Tiche offered to stay behind, as she was meant to meet with Kristoff shortly.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Tiche asked when she noticed Godwyn was still pale.

"I'm fine," said Godwyn.

For whatever reason, Godwyn's heart beat rapidly still from his encounter with Shabriri. He hadn't the will or patience to deal with guests, so he planned to have them leave as soon as he could.

When he pulled the doors open to the throne room, he was surprised to see the guest was Blaidd. He talked with Kenneth, who listened and nodded with his hand under his chin.

"What are you doing here?" Godwyn asked.

"Mistress Ranni had decided to come," said Blaidd.

"Ranni? Is she here? Where is she?"

"In your bed-chambers resting for the time. She wasn't feeling well. And you don't look so good yourself. Anything the matter?" Blaidd asked.

"I'm fine... I wasn't expecting you."

"Fair enough. We didn't exactly come here, announced."

"I think I need to lay down," said Godwyn as he sat on his throne.

"If only there were the time. I fear what brings the princess and her shadow here is paramount, " Kenneth said.

"Very well. What is it?"

"Malenia is missing," said Blaidd.

"Missing? How? When?"

"That's what we're hoping you could tell us. You're her guardian, after all."

"Well, she can't get very far. Did you check the wild gardens?"

"Of course. I even caught her scent there. Of course, she wasn't. And quite frankly, that place gives me the creeps. Strange smells all about there."

"She and Miquella have a secret hideaway."

"We already looked. Again, nothing. Not even a scent. We can be certain she didn't run away either. My tracking led me eastward, but unfortunately, I lost the trail just outside the gate."

"She was taken?" exclaimed Godwyn. The thought of it was horrifying. Malenia was a helpless child, and her condition was mainly kept a secret. Any mortal snatching her up didn't just risk her life but also their own.

"And there was one other scent you found, was it not?" said Kenneth.

"Yes. Radahn's, along with his horse, was all along the same trail," said Blaidd.

"He has her?"

"I suspect more like chasing the person who does," said Blaidd.

"It doesn't make sense. Radahn just crossed the border into Caelid with a funeral," said Godwyn.

"A funeral, you say? Who passed away?"

"I'm not sure."

"Then it's obvious I should go at once and find out what he knows," said Blaidd.

Godwyn began pacing back and forth, trying to think if there was anything that he might have missed that could be helpful, but he had already told everything. "Has my mother done anything?"

"Nothing. And time is of the essence. There are caves, catacombs, and grave sites. It's a lot of ground to cover," said Blaidd. "Unfortunately, there are a lot of bandits and ruffians who wouldn't think twice about snatching up a vulnerable little girl."

"Indeed, but what would be the advantage? You steal away the queen's daughter, and then what? Make a ransom demand and hope the queen caves and pays it? Ha! I hardly think so," said Kenneth.

"We're talking people who slit traveler's throats for far less," said Blaidd.

"I have no doubt there are those bold enough to try something like this and maybe even mused about it. But a mere common rabble of cutthroats would lack the necessary sophistication to even execute such a plan, let alone get away with it for so long," said Kenneth.

"Someone may have helped them. Queen Marika has plenty of enemies."

"True, but anyone serious enough to do this couldn't be looking to gain anything monitary. That would be a good way to meet the business end of Maliketh's Black Blade. In my humble opinion, this is either a political or personal message. And sometimes the best thing to do with a message delivered in such a brazen fashion is to ignore it and not give the sender satisfaction that they had gained your attention and ruffled your feathers."

"Are you saying I ought to do nothing? While my sister is somewhere out there? And if they grow bold enough to harm her? What then?" said Godwyn.

"They don't even have to intend harm. Your sister isn't in the best of health. She could decline very rapidly. The little girl needs her mother," said Blaidd.

"Godwyn, my dear boy, if the Queen hadn't taken action yet, it stands to reason that she at least has the confidence that whoever did this intends no harm to the little lady. I am suggesting that you trust her, follow suit, and remain still, at least until more can be known. I understand it is difficult, but it is often the right thing to do for the girl's sake. Any aggressive action on our part might become the incentive such a person would need to do great harm," said Kenneth.

Godwyn felt annoyed, even slightly offended by Kenneth's suggestion. This advice may be true when dealing with the demihumans or if the perpetrator had made themselves and their intent known, but he wasn't confident.

Kenneth didn't know - nor did Godwyn wish to tell him - that many things happened behind closed doors. Something that, if Tiche's innnocent question demonstrated at all, people were largely ignorant of.

They didn't see Marika's crippling depression while pregnant or difficulty bonding with the twins when they were born. They didn't see the deep resentment Marika had for Radagon, which had reached the point where the two could no longer appear in the same room. Although Godwyn couldn't prove it, he wasn't convinced the twin's conception was consensual. Marika's marriage to Radagon wasn't, and she did everything she could to avoid it: from taking on outside lovers in desperation to produce an Empyrean of her bloodline to acting indifferent when he married Rennala. In the end, be it the politics, the Two-Fingers, or whatever other forces were at play, Radagon and Marika were married, and two families were destroyed.

The resentment for the twin's father was there. Godwyn couldn't imagine that there wasn't a part of Marika - albeit maybe a small one - that saw this as an opportunity. It was awful to think. How much he loved his mother, he couldn't have faith as Kenneth suggested.

"You might be comfortable giving them that opportunity, but I'm not!" said Godwyn, and he stormed out.

Godwyn forced himself to regain some of his composure before he opened the bedroom door. He was certain Ranni was as upset as he was, as she and Malenia had grown close these last few months. It was to a point where Malenia began asking for her big sister so they could do "girl things" together, whatever that meant.

At last, he opened the door where Ranni was asleep. For a moment, Godwyn stared at her, lying in his bed, as the meaning of his mother's words revealed themselves. And as though he still wasn't sure, there was a letter addressed to him written in his mother's hand, waiting on the table. Ranni must have brought it at Marika's request.

When he opened it, typical of his mother, it consisted of one brief line, "And which of us comes unto thee, my son?"

Godwyn crushed the brief. More offensive than to say nothing of her missing daughter, what was an age worth when its own goddess no longer felt it worth any price to preserve?

The Lands-Between were crumbling away. No assurances or prayers from the faithful could change this outcome. The Golden Order needed its goddess more than ever to devote herself back to its principles if it ever hoped to survive. But that goddess became devoted - more like obsessed - to climbing the planes of godhood and into the voids where the Outer Gods resided to lay siege on them.

He offered her everything to prove him worthy to be Lord and consort. From gaining her favor as a champion as his father had to disposing of the husband Marika had come to despise. Still, Marika would not surrender her ambition.

That people grew emboldened enough to wisk away one of Marika's children was proof of that. Marika's inaction was nothing more than evidence they would get away with it.

Perhaps his mother was right. He could never know the age he saw in his dreams, so it was best that he had.

He refocused again on Ranni. How much he loved her! She saw more in him than anyone else was willing to. And yet, Godwyn feared what she might come to expect of him. He almost didn't feel he deserved her.

Godwyn laid down next to her and brushed her hair with his fingers. He kissed her cheek before he slipped under the blanket with her.

"Keep this up, and I may see to thy demise," said Ranni. Her tone was playful with her odd sense of humor.

"I'll have to risk it," replied Godwyn as he continued his caresses and kisses. "With such a beautiful woman in my bed. I'm not sure I can control myself."

It was the lips next and then the neck. He then laid his head down against her with a sigh as worry for Malenia resurfaced. Ranni put her hand on Godwyn's cheek. She wanted to reassure him that they would find Malenia, but she didn't know more than everyone else.

"Thou will search for her? Make me a promise," said Ranni.

"That I will," said Godwyn.

"And I trust thee in that," said Ranni. She closed her eyes, "I wish that was the only heavy matter to discuss."

"What is it?" Godwyn asked as he planted a kiss on Ranni's cheek.

"My beloved. I've spoken words among the Old Crones, and they confirmed it to be true." Ranni hesitated. There wasn't worst timing than this. "I'm pregnant by thee, Godwyn."

"Pregnant?" said Godwyn.

Godwyn wasn't sure what to say. He both wanted to laugh and wanted to cry. Both embrace and run from it. He was both filled with pride and regret. And confusion.

His mother was the one who left them alone in her bed-chamber where the dew from the Erdtree collected, making the perfect conditions for an Emyprean like Ranni to conceive. And Godwyn realized his mother's words were an assurance that what had happened was by his mother's will.

"Godwyn?" said Ranni, as she sensed Godwyn's distress. He wasn't used to hearing Ranni sound so vulnerable. So weak.

"I'm sorry... I..." said Godwyn. "I don't know what to say..."

"Please, my beloved. My prince. I have already bore this burden far too long alone. And now my mind weighs down for my beloved sister. If thou aren't certain... I need to be certain," said Ranni as she leaned against Godwyn's chest, begging for his comfort. He wrapped his arms around her shaking frame and kissed her on the head.

"May I?" said Godwyn, like a child.

Ranni nodded, and Godwyn laid his head against her stomach.

He could sense it... no, them! Two children were inside her. First, he smiled, then gave a laugh, then came tears. He kissed her belly.

"Hello, my little ones," Godwyn cried. "I'm your papa."

He looked up at Ranni, who was stroking his blond hair.

"Have they names?"

"Aurelia and Aurelietta," said Ranni. Beautiful, unique names that alluded to their heritage in the Golden Order without following the conventions of it. "If I find a way to bring about an age without the Golden Order, then I promise I would not have our daughters be unaware of who they are and their connection to a previous age. That they are grandchildren of two queens."

"And they should learn to respect the universe's stars and all other governing forces. Not just the Order of Gold," said Godwyn. He wanted to enjoy the news. "If only this didn't come at such a bad time."

"We'll find her, my dear consort. Thou hast promised it. Blaidd will see to it. Please, for now, let us be happy for a moment."

"The male without the female is looked upon as only half a body, nor can the female without the male be regardeed as more complete. For neither can bring forth fruit so long as it remains alone." - (Fabricious, 136 and 137)

They embraced while Tiche watched from below. She waited while they made love until the light went out, and the room was quiet. She climbed to the window and slowly opened the pane to slip in.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness before she started to look around the room.

"You are a pig, dear prince," she muttered as she noticed Godwyn's disorganization. "Your princess is one patient woman."

One by one, Tiche opened drawers and closed them again without any sound. Several times, she looked back at Godwyn as he lay in his bed with his young lover lying against his chest.

Tiche wasn't looking for anything in particular. It was more about proving a point than anything: infiltrating the dragon's cult was a viable way to get close to Marika's children. And for that, Tiche needed only something personal enough to show for her efforts but not so unique it might be missed.

She soon came across an old letter addressed to Queen Marika that Godwyn apparently never sent. She pocketed it and then slithered out the window.

When she landed back down on the grass, Tiche looked at the letter sealed with a symbol of the Elden Ring.

"Are you finally satisfied?"

Tiche pulled out her dagger and pointed it in the darkness where the voice came from. Alecto leaned against the castle wall, wearing her cloak that blended her back with the shadows.

When she saw it was her mother, Tiche rolled her eyes and put her dagger away. It was a small, unsaid challenge that one-day, Tiche would hear her mother coming or be able to sneak up on her. Time after time, she lost the game, and this time was no exception.

"Don't scold me, Mother," said Tiche.

"Aww. Did he sweep you off your feet after he broke your arm? Don't forget how much you squealed when I set that bone," said Alecto.

Standing beside each other, Tiche was almost a mirror image of her mother. The same long black hair and the same colored eyes. Alecto was preserved throughout the centuries by her Numan blood, so their ages looked similar. Alecto had a few additional wrinkles around her eyes that developed from her intense glare.

"Stop it," said Tiche.

"No. Not so long as you keep making mistakes that risk revealing us," said Alecto. She snatched the letter from Tiche's hands.

"What does it matter? That world is gone, and everyone knows Marika knows everything," said Tiche.

Alecto sighed, "My dear daughter. This is what it is to be severed from the stars that tell your destiny. Growing up in a false night sky that barely resembles what was there before."

"And that's worth killing for?" scoffed Tiche.

"Oh yes. It very much is," said Alecto.

Chapter Text

It was raining again, as it almost always did on the Weeping Peninsula. It made it an ideal place for growing crops but unsuitable for comfort.

Still, Rykard looked north toward Stormveil Castle and wondered if his brother had executed his plan against Godwyn. Radahn never said precisely what he intended to do. Still, whatever it was, Rykard wanted as close to Godwyn's reaction as he could get without showing himself.

And Godwyn well deserved it. Ranni was too young for that level of intimacy, which showed how confused she was over the whole affair. Such things deserved some sort of punishment, if only to make it clear to Godwyn that they disapproved of her being treated that way.

When Rykard and his men arrived at the catacombs, there was no certainty about what they might expect inside. These heretical cults were as unique in their resources and approach as in their belief. Each one touting some twisted new perversion of Marika's Golden Order.

This one had an odd obsession with death, that ailment that demigods such as himself were no longer vulnerable to. And with Marika's promise of grace, many might see themselves living lives far beyond what was natural or spun into something anew.

It was a terrifying ordeal for those who still experienced it and were known as mere mortals. So, they started to worship it like it was their own god. Either way, their beliefs didn't matter in the end.

Rykard rubbed his hands together in anticipation as the battering ram slammed hard against the wooden doors. He thought to remind his men that each heretic brought back alive was extra payment. Still, as Preator, favors were of more interest to him than any material gain. And many of those favors were best secured with bloodshed.

Such was necessary for the insurance of any robust regime.

The door splintered open, and Leyndell's knights rushed in. The battle echoed out through the chambers while Rykard waited.

The strategy was to overwhelm the heretics with numbers and prevent their retreat deeper into the catacombs, where the traps might pose a danger to his own men. It was a small matter anyway, as it was a risk those who swore service to the Queen took on.

When the fighting went silent, Rykard was approached by Inquisitor Ghiza. The man seemed annoyed that Rykard chose to attend this invasion personally, as he masterminded the entire raid and conducted the investigation into this particular cult. To have the Preator himself make an appearance he interpreted as meaning that Rykard had no faith in his ability.

It wasn't personal. Rykard wanted to be somewhere nearby when Radahn pulled off his "revenge" against Godwyn. What better excuse than hunting heretics in a place where people started to lose their faith? He was sure Godwyn wouldn't like it, but this was for Ranni. While he was sure she would be a fantastic mother to her two daughters (and, to be fair, Godwyn would make a fine, supportive father), the tears she shed, Rykard couldn't get from his mind.

When Rykard entered the catacombs, the place was covered in blood with the smell of fresh death among the moldering bones of those long past. A few moaned as they lay bleeding out from their wounds.

There were a few detained that only suffered minor injuries. The soldiers shoved them up against the walls to tie their hands and feet together. One reported they intended to search the rest of the place but hadn't found the mechanism to open the door. They suspected it was behind the large fire-spewing traps, but they weren't sure it was worth the effort to find it.

There was a sure way these people conducted themselves. No one was "in charge," but Rykard could tell by a glance if someone was the "defacto" leader. This look was given by a middle-aged woman dressed in heavy armor that was rusted and pitted from years of use.

Rykard made eye contact with her as Ghiza spoke, "I am Inquisitor, the judiciary authority of Queen Marika. It is a role that I take very seriously. And the whole of you are guilty of heresy."

"How can we be guilty with neither the benefit of a trial nor any advocate in our own defense?" said the glaring woman.

"You are mistaken. Your involvement in heresy is already established and well-known. You are not being brought in to determine guilt but for your sentencing," said Ghiza.

"So, does the queen no longer honor her pardons?"

Ghiza's face turned red.

"Who is this woman to think she can speak to Queen Marika's authority like this?" Rykard asked.

"Her name is Lhutel, Praetor," said Ghiza. "And a full-fledged heretic."

"Our organization has Queen Marika's guarantee that you will not interfere with our rites," said Lhutal.

"Baseless claims of ties to the Golden Lineage is heresy," said Ghiza.

"Heresy is only heresy when the claims are not true. Why don't you look in my satchel?" said Lhutel.

Rykard did so without breaking eye contact. Once he had the paper, his eyes glanced at it. At first, he thought it was a forgery. Many tried that, not realizing that the Queen rarely, if ever, handed out pardons. She would destroy an entire nation sooner than let any imperfection affect the Lands-Between.

Yet, here it was! Scribed upon a parchment that was indeed the Queen's pardon in her own words and written and signed with her own hand. It was distinct, and Rykard would never mistake it anywhere. Every letter perfectly formed in her steady hand.

Rykard looked at Ghiza, angry at how much he failed this investigation. He shoved the note in Ghiza's hand to punctuate the point.

"You may go," Rykard growled.

"A letter of pardon! Can you believe it?" said Rykard.

When Tanith heard Rykard was returning home early, she had his favorite brandy brought from the cellar and a bath prepared from Volcano Manor's hot springs. Aside from taking a snifter full of brandy, Rykard was more interested in ranting and pacing than he was in his bath or the naked woman waiting under the sheets.

"Had that half-wit Ghiza done even the minimum of research, he would have known such a thing," said Rykard.

"It's good that you were at least paying attention," said Tanith.

"It was a waste of time and resources. I didn't even have an opportunity to check in on my sister," said Rykard.

"And how is the dear princess?"

"A girl her age ought not to be seduced. She insists Godwyn didn't rape her, but I'm certain he was persuasive," said Rykard. "I hope whatever Radahn has planned is worth it."

"Like stealing away your youngest sibling?" Tanith asked.

"What?"

"Blaidd was here earlier. Malenia is missing," said Tanith.

"And you said nothing!"

"You said that Radahn was looking for his revenge. It was easy to figure out what happened," said Tanith.

"That cad!" exclaimed Rykard.

"Your brother will not harm her."

"Does the fool have any idea just how ill she is? Of course, he doesn't! He's never around her."

"I had thought that demigods are beyond death."

"Bah! Scarlet Rot will make you wish you weren't. Worse than that, vile disease is the 'treatment,' and I use that term lightly. A torture, more like it. I accompanied her many times to it. The poor little thing was so terrified that she wet herself. Could you imagine? To repeatedly traumatize a child like that! It was worse than anything I could ever dream up on my own," said Rykard as he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to hold back tears. "But Miquella is the apple of my father's eye and the hope of his ambition. They preserve her life to make him happy rather than granting her the relief she rightly deserves."

Tanith wrapped her arms around Rykard and whispered, "I'm so sorry, my love."

"Nothing to be sorry about. It is the nature of 'Golden Order' fundamentalism. Marika promised a world where those who earn grace needn't fear death, and her children are to be an example of that grace. Even if she won't grant it evenly to everyone," said Rykard.

He got up and began looking through the notes on his desk. Tanith rolled her eyes, "What are you up to now? Come to bed, my love."

"Sorry, dear, but I scheme better when I'm not sober. And since Godwyn needs punishment. Since my brother is an imbecile, I must do it properly," said Rykard.

"And what can you embarrass Godwyn with?"

"Nothing yet. It's not as though Marika would allow him a drop of her life-giving dew to impregnate any of his lovers."

"But she did for your sister."

"That's different. There was a lot for her to gain from having some grandchildren running around," said Rykard.

The whole thing was a messy affair that would take historians and scholars volumes to sort through its causes. Suffice it to say, everyone was embroiled in whatever "it" was. Rykard's position gave him much insight but not enough to truly understand the next steps.

He relayed this to Tanith as best he could reason with as little speculation as possible. And she listened as she always did but seemed a little impatient that he couldn't put his work away for only a few minutes.

Rykard was well aware the age was coming to its swift demise. The Erdtree's roots were spread as far as they could and were now tearing the Lands-Between apart as it strained for more nutrients to sustain itself. It longed to grow and expand beyond the world as it was known, beyond the fog and into the realms of the Outer Gods if needed.

This was no secret if anyone bothered to listen to many of Marika's ramblings to Maliketh. She made many promises as a conquerer of peace and prosperity. Still, she always deferred this for a later time when all the lands were under her reign. But in time, those debts became due, and the QueenQueen found her promises conflicted with her nature.

Marika's nature was in destruction, and her heart was in conquest. She felt Godfrey was the only one who understood her and nurtured these needs without question. And yet, she was a vessel for another will, a Greater Will. One that felt no need to expand further. It desired Marika dispose of Godfrey and marry a new Lord more suited for an age of peace and prosperity. One who would not look to entertain Marika's destructive tendencies.

Marika refused.

This refusal to comply emboldened others, like Queen Rennala, to challenge Marika, lest the QueenQueen turn her violence towards them. And she did just that: sending Champions like Radagon to quell the dissenters in bloodied combat. Rykard laughed as he mused at the irony; rebellions started because of Marika's violence, which only served to feed into it.

Although once an aggressive conqueror himself, Radagon had surrendered his violent nature to marry Rennala, which, ironically, the Greater Will considered more suitable to its vision. It compelled him to leave Rennela.

None of this ended the feuds and in-fighting. There were just as many ideas of what the next part of this age should look like as there were people. Ranni believed that a new era was necessary, but not at the expense of everything that came before. She thought, rather naively, that a perfect union between the Golden Sun and the Silver Moon could be created without a violent end. And that was what drove much of her unrelenting love for Godwyn even as he mistreated her.

This seemed a fair compromise as many fundamentalists believed only one of the Golden Lineage could be their Lord, and of which there was only Godwyn. They merely tolerated Ranni and would not likely ever actively support her as their goddess.

Radahn believed in the Golden Order that Godfrey built, and Radagon sustained. His thoughts reflected his willingness to take Malenia as his Empyrean bride when she was old enough. She was the one whose temperament was most like their father. But he seemed largely ignorant that she was controlled by an Outer God herself and likely forced to do its will.

Radagon believed his son, Miquella, was more adherent to the goals of the Golden Order and thus should rule, even as Marika clearly chose Ranni.

"So, the Greater Will won, didn't it? It forced her to banish Godfrey with his warriors and marry your father," said Tanith.

"It did, but not without much resistance on Marika's part. If she had her way, I'm sure she'd have an Empyrean child with Godfrey and be off in the stars warring against some Outer God somewhere. She tried desperately to produce an heir on her own. Took on many lovers but nothing. It's a sad story, really. I almost feel a great amount of pity for her if she wasn't such a maniac. Imagine being queen yet still very much a slave," said Rykard. "At any rate, I don't think my stepmother cares any longer who rules the Lands-Between, so long as it isn't her."

"And what do you desire, my love?" said Tanith.

Rykard paused. No one had ever asked him that, so he had never thought of it. It wasn't as though it was something anyone would see happen, even if he did.

"Well, it's not you right now," he replied.

Ghiza's notes were detailed, showing that he at least had some concept of order. It detailed various cult members.

"If Queen Marika granted these heretics with a letter of pardon from her own hand, it stands to reason that their claims might have some credit, and Ghiza indeed stumbled across her bastard brood," said Rykard.

"And how does this help you?" scoffed Tanith.

"With good old fashioned blackmail and extortion. And rather than let Ghiza's sloppy investigation go to waste, perhaps he found something about those claiming to be 'Marika's children.'"

"That's not blackmail, my love, if everyone knows your stepmother took on many lovers to produce a suitable heir to godhood," said Tanith. "It's hardly a scandal at this point."

"Shut it and let me think. I'm already getting sober. One hardly jumps into a man's bed repeatedly without things becoming complicated and messy," said Rykard. He thumbed through the notes that were not in any particular order.

"You really ought to hire a clerk."

"I said shut up! Or I send you deflowered back to your homeland."

"That's an enticing threat, my love. You think you could hurry with the deflowering part?"

"Darling, I wasn't aware you liked me to be so quick," said Rykard.

Tanith frowned, "I wasn't aware you could do it any other way."

Rykard had to smile. This is why he loved this woman even as she annoyed him. With his near absolute authority over who lived and died in Marika's realm, she dared challenge him, which he found alluring. She resisted him when he had her brought to his chambers for a private dance, and Rykard revealed his desire as something more. One by one, he exposed her many secrets.

Under the modest dignity that was custom was a woman kindled by passion and attracted to power, which Rykard offered both. And while she scoffed at the traditions of the Golden Order and Queen Marika's godhood, she helped Rykard see its inherent flaws.

As Rykard went to ravish her, as he had done many times before, he dropped Ghiza's notes that listed the names of Marika's claimed descendants, and it fell open under the desk.

Godrick the Golden; claimed the descent of Queen Marika and First Elden Lord Godfrey through the Golden Lineage.

He climbed into bed and began kissing his mistress, starting first with her cheek and then her neck. She uncovered herself, which made her all the more difficult to resist.

"Would it be so hard for you to beg your stepmother for a drop of her dew?" sighed Tanith as Rykard continued.

"She doesn't even know about you," scoffed Rykard.

"Then why not steal it?" she asked. "Just one drop, my love. Make me pregnant with your child. That is my desire."

"You would raise a child here? Under the Golden Order? Under Marika? After what she threatened to do to your home and your gods?"

"I would gladly be in a kingdom with you seated as Lord and a child between us," she sighed. She whispered into his ear, "Lord Rykard. How does that sound to you?"

"It sounds like heresy, that's what," he said.

"Let me repeat it. Lord Rykard," she repeated.

"Stop! This is about getting my sister back safely. Not anything else," said Rykard.

"You would waste whatever you find on that girl instead of using it?" asked Tanith. "You deserve this, Rykard."

"I said stop it!" he shouted. Perhaps it was the drink, or something else. Either way, Rykard's head was so fuzzy, he didn't realize his hands were at Tanith's throat until her face turned red. He stopped, horrified at himself.

Tanith spent a moment choking with her hands on her neck.

"Tanith, I'm sorry... I..."

He reached for her.

"Don't touch me," said Tanith as she slapped his hand away. "Don't you dare accuse me of not sympathizing with your sister! She's a precious child who has been wrongly abused. But she is also not in any danger with Radahn. Don't you trust him to have her best interest? Do you have her best interest? You curse the Golden Order even as you serve it."

"Don't you dare suggest that!" said Rykard.

"Then rise," said Tanith. "Be that Lord."

Here you see, flowing from a desert, a lunar, white water which is from the old progenitor of all things, spread on two paths. This is the dangerous dry path that goes from the oiliness of the earth, from the primordial chaos. The other wet path from our black, heavy and white lump; but that the snakes creep in the grass. (Roob, 328)

Chapter Text

Kale lived his life so that he wouldn't consider anything he saw particularly remarkable. And he hoped he never did, especially in the Lands-Between. Anything remarkable in this pace was often arguably also troublesome. His comrades always warned him that dealings with the demigods, in particular, might lead to uncertain consequences and so Kale remained as far away from Leyndell as he could and still find himself a good sale.

Kale had seen the realm at its height with the thick fields of abundance, and many of his kind had thought it a place of opportunity. No such thing. A place with everything also had no need for outside peddlers. Instead, he bided his time and waited as he watched the Erdtree grow into the monster it became. Indeed, it wasn't long before it drained the soil of its substance and devoured all the nutrients from the land. And as the Erdtree took more and more, want grew, so Kale realized his chance.

A snap in a nearby twig broke Kale from his trance, and he called out to the darkness.

"One step closer, and you can be assured to lose your head," Kale warned.

"Hold there. Is that any way to treat an old friend?"

"Blaidd? You old rascal! Give me a terrible fright," said Kale. "How dare you sneak up like that."

"I wasn't sneaking. You merely weren't paying attention," replied Blaidd. "And how are things? Find your footing?"

"A little slower than what I had hoped. I fear I might have come here far too soon. Best your mistress hurry up to end this age," said Kale.

"Things aren't that bad."

"Shows how long you've been hanging about Leyndell. Not so easy to see all things from the height of the Erdtree. You ought to come down here with your nose against the ground. It'll give you a different scent. Still, you don't look like you're up for casual chit-chatting."

"That different scent happens to be what I need. I was wondering if anyone you meet with was bragging or even just implying about a huge payday or anything of that nature," asked Blaidd.

"You know it's bad for business to rat out customers," said Kale.

"What about something you just don't normally see?"

"Now that you say it, an odd funeral crossed here recently. It's not the pompous fanfare you'd normally see for those Erdtree burials. You'd think if it was someone who was allowed one of those burials, it would be crawling with demigods."

"Let me guess, Radahn was leading it," said Blaidd.

"That he was. Probably blasphemy or some other sin to say, but you can't miss the sight of that big man lugging around on that tiny horse. It's almost comical, really," said Kale.

Blaidd couldn't argue with that thought as he had thought the same. He thanked Kale and left.

"Didn't even buy anything, the dumb lug," said Kale as he picked up his bow to start playing.

Godwyn waited patiently for Blaidd, knowing only that he wished to speak with an "informant." Godwyn didn't like the sound of it, but he also needed to find Malenia. Since the presence of a demigod might serve to intimidate the merchant, Godwyn stayed back with the horses.

"And? What did he say?" Godwyn asked.

"Kale confirmed that the funeral progression led by Radahn was a bit odd," said Blaidd as he mounted his horse. "I would bet anything he's involved back when I picked up his scent in Leyndell."

Godwyn frowned. He did not trust these merchants. In Marika's land, where everyone had enough, it felt like their services were an insult. True to his mistrust, the peddler didn't offer much more than what they already knew.

"It at least makes me more relieved. Sending her general to deal with this problem is a good sign that the Queen has taken the matter seriously," said Blaidd.

"Huh," said Godwyn.

"You don't trust Radahn?"

"Almost as far as I can throw him. And given his size, that's not far," said Godwyn.

"I understand. His relationship with Ranni is strained, to say the least, with his halting of the stars," said Blaidd.

"And how is Ranni doing?" Godwyn asked.

"You've just seen her."

"I mean, really doing."

"Well, she is terribly worried about Malenia. The two have gotten quite close over the last several months. I think it's been good for both of them. It certainly eased a lot of her anger to have someone to care about."

"What about... our children?" Godwyn asked.

"Honestly? I think she's having a hard time with it. Mind you, she's willing to step up to the role and make the best she could, but she's not enjoying it," said Blaidd.

It was hard to hear that, and Godwyn couldn't say anything else the entire trip. He faced a feeling of both anger and regret.

He didn't want to be a father either, but it was what it was. Now that he sensed them in Ranni, Godwyn could think of nothing more than what he might give them. Warmth like his mother had always shown him and the tenacity of his father.

Godwyn didn't say anything more about it the entire journey to Caelid. Instead, he redoubled his focus on finding Malenia. The poor little girl must have been terrified, and he didn't want to imagine how Miquella was coping with it. Even a short time away from his sister was distressing to him.

It was a short ride back to Caelid. Godwyn had sent word that morning that he was coming, and he waited for no reply as it wasn't a request.

He expected to travel the entire distance to the Redmane Castle. But, as he neared the border, Godwyn saw the general was there to greet him with a whole platoon of soldiers. He was riding his same horse, of course. The poor little thing was well past its prime, and couldn't sustain his weight without gravity magic. Godwyn suspected that Radahn might have struck a deal with Marika to keep the horse immortal.

"Brother, there's some terrible news," said Godwyn as he dismounted.

"Don't call me brother," growled Radahn.

"Fine. I don't have time to argue relations. Malenia is missing. Do you know anything about it?" Godwyn asked.

"There's no need to concern yourself with her," said Radahn.

"You know where she is?"

Radahn laughed, "In my castle."

Godwyn gave a sigh of relief.

"Mother will be relieved. Thank you. I want to arrange for her to come home right away," said Godwyn.

"She's not going home," said Radahn.

"You must be joking. Of course she is."

Radahn glared at him.

"You seriously can't think you can just take her!"

"You seriously can't think that you can just treat my sister like a whore."

"Is that what this is about? I did nothing to Ranni," said Godwyn.

"Her belly tells another story."

"Damn it, Radahn! I didn't force her. I didn't hurt her," said Godwyn.

"You think she wants a child when she's still one herself? You talk about consent as though that's a gold standard. That's only the minimum," said Radahn.

"I didn't intend that to happen," said Godwyn.

Radahn's eyes narrowed, "So, you just happened to be in your mother's bed, and fucking my sister. That was a complete accident."

"Fine! Hate me if you will, but let me take Malenia home. Please. She's ill. She needs her mother," said Godwyn.

"She's not going anywhere until I see satisfaction," said Radahn.

"I'll give you satisfaction," said Godwyn

His fist landed on Radahn's jaw. The two men tumbled to the ground, with Godwyn on top, pounding down on Radahn repeatedly. Radahn threw him off with his magic, flung Godwyn into the air, and skidded along the dirt. Godwyn flipped over back on his feet with his back scraped up and bleeding. Radahn's eye was already swelling up.

"I'm going to state that I have not received satisfaction," said Radahn as he spit out a mouth full of blood.

"Enough, both of you!" said Blaidd, dashing between the two. "Radahn. Dear Brother. I understand your anger, but this is unnecessary. We need to think about what's best for the child and Mistress Ranni."

"What's best for my sister is my boot in his face," said Godwyn. He shoved past Blaidd and tackled Radahn back to the ground. They went tumbling down the hill. Radahn picked him up and threw him back to the ground. When he went for his swords, Godwyn grabbed his arms and wrapped his arm around Radahn's neck to try and strangle him.

Blaidd threw his sword, and it stuck it right in the ground.

"I said enough to the both of you. Godwyn, you know where Malenia is. And Radahn... Honestly, I don't know what to say to you. You're a general who's acting more like a child," said Blaidd. "If you're both so certain you're correct, then march yourselves back to Leyndell, stand before Queen Marika, and plead your case."

Godwyn let Radahn go.

"This isn't over," said Godwyn. He shoved Radahn one more time.

"Of course not. The next thing you'll do is go cry to your mama. Well, I look forward to that," said Radahn.

"That fool," said Godwyn when they were out of earshot.

"Don't overthink it. He's just provoking you. Used to do it all the time with Rykard and Ranni," said Blaidd.

"Well, I'm not his sibling," said Godwyn.

"Mistress Ranni speaks well enough for herself, but I think she'd be most disappointed in your behavior."

"Who's side are you on?"

"Mistress Ranni asked me to find Malenia. And I needn't tell her about this little tiff if you promise that you won't do anything foolish between now and when I report back to her," said Blaidd.

Radahn returned to his men as he wiped the blood from his face. He had yet to expect that from Godwyn and even wondered if challenging his stepbrother was a mistake. He half expected - and even hoped - that Godwyn would return to his mother, forcing an audience for the grievances to be known. He had always done so in the past.

Sure, Radahn could have asked the Queen, but he felt Marika would naturally take her son's side. By kidnapping Malenia, Radahn assured himself of more leverage that he and his household might be satisfied.

When Radahn and his men returned to Redmane castle, he once asked about Malenia. The servants informed him that she was doing remarkably well. They pointed him to the courtyard.

"It's mine!" said Malenia as she dashed across the courtyard. Her cheeks were bright red and skin far from the sickly, dull golden tone.

Finlay chased after her with a big grin. The object of their game was an old fang that Finlay found doing some chores. It was often dismissed as junk, but Malenia, who had never been outside Leyndell, was fascinated by it. How it became a game of tag between the girls was anyone's guess.

Finlay bear-hugged the young demigod, which caused a giggle to erupt from both of them.

"You see? You see what I say?" laughed Medjai. "You see how she runs now! Movement counters the ill effects of the rot. Even her eyesight has improved."

"That's good," said Radahn, only half interested in what Medjai said. He tied Leonard to the post and pet his boney neck.

"She talks a lot about her mother," said Medjai. "When do you intend to send her back?"

"In time," said Radahn.

Medjai raised an eyebrow, "I may not care for Marika, but I am not ignorant of her power. I can help her in the short term but she needs her mother."

"I will return her when I no longer need her!" said Radahn. "Melania. Come on. It's time to eat."

"Come on Finlay," said Malenia, taking her friend's hand.

"Finlay eats with the rest of the men," said Radahn.

"But I want her to eat with us," said Malenia.

"No!" said Radahn.

Malenia gave a huff and handed Finlay the fang.

But the wolf comes from the east

And the dog from the west

They are full of jealousy,

Fury, rage, and madness (Fabricious, 40)

Chapter Text

Rykard intended to keep his quick wait to Lyendell as low profile as possible. He couldn't say precisely why he came, whether to embrace Tanith's words or get away from her. Still, whether it was one way or another, Rykard couldn't get his mistress's words out of his mind and came to search the archives without so much thought at what he might find.

He half dozed, having spent all day there with scrolls and tombs all laid out before him.

With her rise in power, Queen Marika burned all records of the past and her own with it. And she was very thorough. Much of what Rykard found was a few ballads told by unreliable poets who liked to spin the truth in the name of a good story. And the less to be said about Marika's own accounts, the better. Sure, these fancy bard's tales might have contained kernels of truth, but Rykard hadn't the patience or the will to sift through it. And he wasn't too sure what to look for other than perhaps a dying ember or so of the past.

He was awakened when he heard the sniffles echoing in the empty hall. It initially confused him, and he spent a moment looking for the source.

Rykard found a small end table with two lit candles nearly burned to a stubble. He pulled one of the papers out from under the overflowing wax and brushed it off. It was a crude drawing of an arm with plans for connecting it to the shoulder.

He bent down and pulled back the white tablecloth.

"Miquella?" said Rykard. "What are you doing under there?"

Miquella wiped his tears, "Have you found Malenia?"

"I'm sorry, Little Brother, but your sister is still missing," said Rykard.

"I didn't mean what I said. I didn't mean it," sobbed Miquella.

"Come now. I can assure you what you said has nothing to do with this mess. Why don't you come out? It's not befitting of a Lord to be hiding under there," said Rykard.

"It's also not befitting for a Lord to cry. That's what father says," said Miquella.

"Well, Father says a lot of things. As far as I'm concerned, you can do whatever you want. And this is certainly something that warrants a few tears," said Rykard, sitting on the ground beside him.

"Did anyone ask Mr. Margit? She always goes to him," said Miquella.

Rykard raised an eyebrow, "Who?"

"He's Malenia's friend," said Miquella.

"Oh, her imaginary friend," said Rykard.

"He's not imaginary."

This place had many secrets, and it was easy to stumble upon them by accident. Sometimes, they were instantly recognized, and sometimes not.

Upon attempting to gain more information from young Miquella, it became clear that this "Mr. Margit" was the twin's little secret. Whether they stumbled upon it by accident or someone intentionally told them at some point, it was anyone's guess. Nonetheless, to any further questions, Miquella responded with only a shrug.

"You know, I have a lot of men who are very good at finding people," said Rykard.

"I know. They find heretics so they can murder them," said Miquella.

"Um...Yes," said Rykard. "But, they are good at finding other things too. And it's by their good authority that I happen to know your sister is perfectly safe."

The tricky part about the twins is how clever they are. Both of them, really. As children in a world of adults, it was impossible to know what they knew as everyone, including Rykard, was in the habit of underestimating them.

"Where is she?"

"Tell me a little about this Mr. Margit."

"Malenia made me promise not to," said Miquella.

"You can tell me. I'm your brother," said Rykard.

"No," said Miquella, crawling out from under the table. "I made a promise. I can't break a promise. You said she was safe, and that's good."

He was shaking. Rykard knew that if he could just push a little harder, Miquella would break, but it wasn't worth it. The little child was suffering without his twin by his side, and even Rykard felt the pain. Instead, he let little Miquella cry. It may not befit a lord to do so, but tears in such circumstances did befit a brother and a dear little child.

It wasn't necessary anyway. Everyone knew Malenia liked to go to the wild garden whenever she wasn't with Miquella.

It necessitated for Rykard to venture to the wild garden himself.

While it was always clear that this place contained some secrets of Marika, Rykard was never so compelled to go in there himself. The thing about uncovering conspiracies and living to see the next day was to only do so if it was absolutely necessary.

"I wouldn't go in there if you value your life, Rykard."

He hadn't noticed Marika out in the garden, but then again, she had a tendency to sneak up in places least expected. Demigods, like himself, were far more used to it than mere mortals, but it was what made searching too deep for anything dangerous.

"You know, it's such a beautiful garden," said Rykard. "A bit odd that you would have it in a place like this where everything else is so neatly kept."

Marika laughed, "You asked a goddess why she does what she does? Come, walk with me."

It had been a while since Rykard had any personal conversation with the queen. Not since he was a child and upset over his father leaving and having to leave the manor due to his mother's instability. Rykard thought his stepmother was kind and caring at the time, which was how her propaganda depicted her.

Later, he would find out that her methods were often manipulative, which he honestly came to respect. He wanted to learn everything about how to do so himself, and Marika, whether she realized it or not, was an excellent teacher.

"You've been looking to blackmail me," said Queen Marika.

Rykard chuckled, "You caught me."

"I've never been fond of you or your siblings' schemes, Rykard," said Marika.

"But we always have so much fun," said Rykard. He started to sweat and wasn't sure why.

Marika and Rykard's schemes with and sometimes even against each other had become so common that it was practically a game the two had bonded over. She uncovered his plot to steal one of the merchant wagons when he was a youth. He had everything planned to perfection, yet when he arrived where he wished to unload the goods, Marika already had her personal guard waiting to arrest him.

Later, the two would scheme to rid the Lands-Between of heretics and others who spoke openly against the Golden Order. Marika preferred they "disappeared" over outright killing.

Yet this time, Marika seemed impatient.

"I was merely looking for clues about your daughter's whereabouts," shrugged Rykard. "I was told she likes to play in there."

"Then that is something I need to talk to her about," said Marika. "As for her whereabouts, I am more than aware of where she is. And I suspect so are you."

"And why doesn't Miquella know where she is?"

"You ought to ask your father that," said Marika. She walked away and then paused to say one last thing, "And Rykard? Heed my words. If you ever dare attempt to manipulate any of my sons again, it will not end well for you."

The nursing child shall play by the cobra’s hole, And the weaned child shall put his hand in the viper’s den. - Isaiah 11:8

Chapter Text

Godwyn threw open the dining hall doors as Blaidd and Kenneth followed close behind. His clothes were still torn and dirty with blood and dirt. Had he been a mortal, such injuries might have been more severe. They stung, but Godwyn was far too angry to care.

"That fool," said Godwyn. "Does he care for anything other than his own ego?"

"A general concern is to win at their own game. And so there is no dishonor as such tactics when the goal is achieved," said Kenneth.

"At least we know Malenia is safe," said Blaidd.

"Safe? With that fool?"

"I do believe this faithful shadow is correct," said Kenneth. "And we shouldn't risk aggravating things in the name of either pride or false delusion of so-called 'honor.' Assuming the general has the senses to avoid tempting Marika's wrath. We should send word to Leyndell and await instruction regarding the appropriate response."

"You think I'm going to run and tell my mother?" said Godwyn.

"I can see how such a thing would come as a bruise to one's ego, but your mother also happens to be Queen," said Kenneth.

"I'm not going to approve him right," said Godwyn.

"With all due respect, our sole goal should be a swift resolution in this matter. And if that means a loss of pride, then so be it."

"I agree. Malenia's well-being should be our only concern," said Blaidd. "Besides, for all we know, she's having the time of her life. I know there were times Mistress Ranni wished for a good escape."

"What of Malenia?"

Rick had told Ranni about Godwyn's return. Away from the Leyndell and the gawking eyes of the elites, she no longer tried to hide her pregnancy or the fact she now shared her bed with Godwyn. The smaller-minded farmers and humble tradesmen had little time, or even the care, for gossip.

While such things did much to ease Ranni's burden, the struggle was still apparent on her face. She was exhausted most of the time and in doubt, as days passed alone. She missed her mother, who, in better days, would have been at Ranni's side to offer advice and support.

"Don't worry, Mistress Ranni. She's safe with Radahn," said Blaidd.

Ranni gave a sigh of relief and even a slight laugh, "What a fool! He said he would get back against thee. What a ridiculous way to do so."

Godwyn left the dining hall without speaking, leaving his companions confused.

He was shaking when he arrived at his bedroom and threw off his torn clothes. He scooped water from the wash basin to clean off his bloodied and dirty shoulders.

"Godwyn? What is the meaning of thy sudden retreat?" said Ranni as she opened the door.

"You knew?" he said.

"Of course not! I would have known Radahn to act so brazenly."

"But you knew he plotted something."

"I promise I knew nothing of this! It isn't like Radahn to make such a gamble."

"Not his way? Your brothers have done nothing but scheme since the day they arrived. I have shown them patience. I have afforded them courtesy. And I have been given nothing but contempt and disrespect in return. And you are acting surprised when your brothers have done this? What else are they plotting, Ranni?"

"I agree my brothers have not treated thee with even the slightest bit of respect. Nor do I look to excuse such actions. At the time, our course should be whatever is best for our little sister," said Ranni. "And I know my brother well enough to understand that his games often require two to play."

"That's all I've ever done!" cried Godwyn. "I've been promised numerous times to stop playing their games, and the game ends. As though we're children who are seeking only to amuse ourselves. If I were to sit on the throne, they would do nothing but challenge me. What about Miquella? What about our children? Will they eventually get so brazen they might harm them too?"

Ranni's hands went to her stomach as her lips quivered. She fought to hold back the tears, "Don't say that."

There was a terrible thought that the only thing that kept the Carians from escalating more than they had already was that Marika continued to hold her seat of power and retain her age. She made a calculated move by bringing them into her household as the demigod stepchildren to pacify their ambition and keep them close. Then, there was her show of power against their mother, which the Carians had no choice but to respect.

In similar displays of power, Godwyn was always held back from showing. But no more could he resist.

"Who knows?" said Godwyn as he left. "Perhaps I can knock enough sense into your brother that he might release the stars for you."

Back at Redmane Castle, Jerren found Radahn sitting on a log with Malenia beside him. Being cooped up inside for most of her life, Radahn felt the fresh air did Malenia much good. Radahn held out a bowl to his little sister as she struggled to use a fork. Occasionally, he'd nudge Malenia's trembling hand to help her find the few bits of meat at the bottom.

"Are you done?" Radahn asked, and Malenia nodded. He took the fork and laid the dishes aside. "Alright. Off you go. Go play with Finlay."

"Hello," said Malenia when Jerren approached.

"You know, Radahn, when you said that you wanted to kidnap your sister, I thought you meant the one Godwyn actually deflowered and left with the child. Not the one who is a walking disease."

Radahn laughed.

"I'm serious, Radahn. It's wrong to take a barely weaned child from its mother. Especially not Marika's child. Especially not Marika's gravely ill child."

"Marika is my mother. She is a goddess. She controls life and death in the Lands-Between," said Malenia.

"Oh, does she now? That's very reassuring," said Jerren.

"Marika wouldn't listen if I took Ranni. Besides, I'm not about to risk her babe," said Radahn.

"No, you'll just risk one of Marika's pups."

"No one will harm her. It's just an extended camping trip, right girl?"

"I'm going to be a general in my brother's army," said Malenia.

"Tell Jerren what your warrior's name is."

"Malenia the Severed! I've done battle with the scarlet rot," said Malenia.

"Back to the matter at hand," said Radahn. "Godwyn won't retaliate. He'll go back and plead his case to his mother. She'll call for an audience to settle it herself. Or my father settled it. Either way, it's just as well."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Come here, Malenia, and let's show Jerren how to mount a proper defense," said Radahn.

Radahn went to the map in his tent and picked Malenia up to sit on the table's edge. He placed some stones on the map to help Malenia identify the landmarks with her poor eyesight.

Malenia felt the stones and recognized one as Redmane castle.

"We should lure the enemy here," said Malenia.

"Correct. But why?"

"Because that's the castle, silly. It can be defended with few men, but it would take a lot of men to attack it," said Malenia. Her finger found the stone that marked the bridge, "And they can only come after us from the bridge. And it's really narrow so we can shoot archers at them."

"But..."

"We can't escape if he surrounds us, so we should try to lure him to fight elsewhere."

"And where could that be?"

"We go where the terrain is accessible, so we must put our troops up on the hill and to the side. What if the men get hungry?"

"Good question, Little sister. We need to plan how to have supplies delivered," said Radahn.

"Oh yeah. We should have a way to make it easy for them to go back to the castle and get lunch.

Radahn laughed as he picked Malenia up, "Very good, Little Sister! See Jerren? She has the pride of a warrior and the mind of a general. A true daughter of Radagon. Godfrey's son or not, he won't stand a chance against the minds of two great generals."

"Ha! And so you intend to put her in charge?" said Jerren.

Ogha ran to the camp and announced that a dragon had attacked and one of the churches was burned. Radahn called for his men but didn't bother to wait for them to ready themselves before he mounted Leonard and took off across the wilds.

Ogha and Jerren looked at each other. This wasn't like their general. He was usually calm and calculated and wasn't one to give in to provocation.

When Ogha turned, he saw Finlay hiding behind one of the stable pillars. He smiled and winked at her, "It's okay, Little One. We'll be back soon."

People had gathered when Radahn arrived but seemed too stunned to do anything. Radahn ordered them to grab buckets and attempt to quell the flames. As they did, he heard the shriek from the sky and saw the four wings of an ancient dragon circling about.

With no hesitation, Radahn grabbed his bow and launched a barrage of arrows at the creature. It missed when the dragon took a dive, allowing it to pass between the shafts. Angered, Radahn pulled it with his magic, and the dragon cried. Radahn let it go when Godwyn dropped down.

"I would prefer you not injure my friend," said Godwyn with his arms crossed.

"What is this game, Godwyn?" shouted Radahn.

"I'm sorry! Was I supposed to go run off to my mother? Would that have satisfied you?" laughed Godwyn.

"You listen to me," said Radahn.

"Or what?"

Radahn drew his swords and rushed at Godwyn. He took a swing, which Godwyn jumped away from. He gave a whistle, and Fortissax shot down red lightning bolts. Radahn dodged away, but the distraction gave Godwyn enough time to jump on Fortissax's back to make his getaway.

"Damn you!" shouted Radahn.

He turned to the villagers, who looked at their general, dumbfounded.

"Someone put that fire out," said Radahn.

Radahn, in the meantime, made his way back to Redmane castle. His face was red, and he felt like breaking everything in his path. He restrained. Such actions in front of the men were unbecoming.

"We tried to come as quickly as we could, General," said Jerren.

"You came alright. Just in time to avoid trouble," said Radahn.

"And this would have all been averted if you didn't take the girl, to begin with," said Jerren.

"And let him win?"

"Win what?" said Jerren. "These men follow you because all your actions in the past have made sense. You had asked only their sacrifice to defend their homes. This? This will lose you all respect."

General Radahn huffed and went to the courtyard where he might be alone. He hated it when Jerren was right. He expected Godwyn to run back to Marika like he always did and that there might be an audience for the two men to settle this business. Then, he could make his statement to Godwyn and Marika that while Radahn was willing to toil for the sake of the Golden Order, he deserved the same in return. That his family, regardless of their station below the Golden Lineage, were not to be mistreated as ordinary servants.

Yet, surprisingly, Godwyn chose violence, which Radahn had to admit took him by surprise. He needed a moment to think about how he might retaliate.

It was already dusk, and Radahn went to check on Malenia. She wasn't in her bedroom. After dinner, she played with Finlay, and Radahn found the two girls asleep in the straw outside. He called for a blanket and threw it over the two.

Radagon and Marika spent a lot of resources to ensure that Malenia survived. Survived but never thrived.

Malenia was doing better, which gave Radahn a sense of relief. Who would have thought the old blind warrior had a solution that sounded almost too simple?

Yet, it was far from a cure. The surgeon couldn't provide anything but bad news when he looked Malenia over. Radahn had hoped the pain she experienced was nothing more than phantom as when soldiers often lost their limbs. The surgeon, however, stated the tissue was inflamed. While he hoped preserving boluses might help ease the rot just enough to avoid additional surgery, it wouldn't likely last forever.

If Radahn did not settle things with Godwyn, then the Scarlet Rot would force him to do so.

"Do me a favor, Jerren," said Radahn when he saw his confidence watching him. "If Marika's grace fails and we're to die even as demigods, I don't want to live forever, slowly whithering away. I want a warrior's death."

"If that's your wish, General. I only hope you can maintain the respect of your soldiers to carry something like that out," replied Jerren. "I was wrong to berate you. Especially not in front of the men. I understand this is about more than just your sister."

"My brother and sister believe that the Golden Order has no use for us. It only keeps us around because of my father. So, they wish to replace it with something more aligned with the Carian ways of thinking. But I say we're relevant as long as we make ourselves so. The Golden Order could survive if men were strong enough willing to exercise discipline and self-control. Ones willing to take up the sword if needed," said Radahn.

"I see. But might I be so bold to ask, General? Does the Golden Order also need men strong enough to take up the olive branch?" Jerren asked.

"It doesn't matter. Godwyn attacked my lands and stirred up my people. I'll make peace with him once he's on his knees begging for his mama," said Radahn.

Bring me my Bow of burning gold:

Bring me my arrows of desire:

Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!

Bring me my Chariot of fire!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,

Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand:

Till we have built Jerusalem,

In Englands green and pleasant Land. - William Blake, Jerusalem

Chapter Text

"Papa?"

Aside from some wrestling leaves, the room was empty. It scared little Miquella, who was used to his siblings surrounding him and each encouraging him in their own unique ways.

Ranni would hold and assure him it were all written within the stars. If he could learn to listen and read them, he would see his destiny marked within. Radahn would encourage him to face things with a chin up and stand tall. That courage and strength could see the little boy through his sadness and pain. Godwyn would listen to him before making him laugh, even in dire situations, followed by words of kindness and hope. And Rykard? He was just Rykard. He tended to make outlandish suggestions that were overall unhelpful, but Miquella appreciated the effort.

Every moment, Miquella felt his twin's absence. He tried to take his mind and bury himself in his work. He invented a few spells that he had gifted his father, and Radagon had given him one in return. But the concentration soon waned, and Miquella could focus no more.

Without Malenia, he felt nothing was complete. The games to amuse himself were dull, and he needed more inspiration for his creations.

Miquella climbed on the Elden Lord's throne and rested his head against the arm. He closed his eyes and dreamed of a day when he and his sister reunited. It was a beautiful field with a great tree whose two mighty trunks twisted in a double helix. The ground below was fertile, so all life could spring and not be choked away. And the tree itself bore a great deal of fruit that rained down upon the starving masses.

The masses feasted and yet still were not filled.

"Miquella?"

Miquella woke from his dream.

"What are you doing here?" Radagon asked. He descended the staircase from the entrance of the Erdtree and, presumably, the Elden Ring itself.

Of course, no one could say what the Elden Ring was as an object. The philosophers considered it more symbolic. A force that both existed everywhere and nowhere at all and yet governed all natural laws in the Lands-Between. Others insisted it was genuine and physical. It could be seen, interacted with, and used like any other material thing.

Whatever it was, Radagon worshipped it and everything it represented.

"Rykard said he knows where Malenia is, but he wouldn't tell me," said Miquella.

"You needn't worry about Malenia. She's where she needs to be," said Radagon.

"But I want her here," said Miquella.

Radagon bit his lip.

"Please, papa. She's my best friend. At least tell me where she is," said Miquella. "Maybe I can go and visit her?"

"Son, your mother and I have high hopes for you and what you will become. Your sister was born in a way that she would help you become that," said Radagon. "I know it's been hard to watch, but she suffers because of what is a better purpose, and we ought not to tamper with that further."

"I don't understand what you mean. I want my sister back," said Miquella.

"For something to become perfect, it must merge with its opposite. And when it does, it creates a balance. You are the hope of this land. A gift to everyone who inhabits here. A god of eternal abundance..."

"I don't care!" shouted Miquella. "Where is Malenia? What's going to happen to her?"

Radagon's face said everything.

"No," said Miquella. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. "No, you can't. I promised her that nothing bad would happen anymore. No, you can't let this happen."

Radagon placed his hands on Miquella's shoulders, "Son, please listen to me. Your sister won't die. She'll become a part of you. And when she does, you will be a god stronger than any other being who ever walked this land."

"No! I'm not going to let that happen!"

"It's the wishes of the Greater Will."

"Then the Greater Will is cruel."

"Stop this now, Miquella. You are a god."

"I'm not a god like you! I won't be a god like you. I'm going to make my sister live. She's going to get better, and she'll be strong again," said Miquella.

Radagon could find no words to argue.

The day the twins were born, the two cried endlessly night after night. Each suffered from their curses in the greatest cruelty. Miquella was so tiny and frail, having not fully developed in Marika's womb, thanks to her interrupting the gastation. And Malenia was born all covered in sores and screaming at the slightest touch. She refused even to take a breast from her nurse.

It was after the third day that Marika laid the little ones together. They immediately snuggled up close to each other. Malenia stopped crying, and Miquella gave what seemed like the sweetest smile.

"Where is my sister?" he said.

When Miquella was gone, Radagon sat on the stairs of the Erdtree and stared at the throne... his throne. The one the Greater Will intended for him. The Greater Will crafted Radagon at its will, then molded and refined him until he could become something far more significant than he might even achieve.

The wind began to pick up, and yellow leaves started to fall from the branches of the Erdtree.

"Thou hast done this, Marika," said Radagon. "Our son has failed us. He has failed all that thou... that we built."

"He had failed thee and thine narrow view of the world and insistence that the only way is through the regression to the original designs of the Golden Order. It is thy cruelty that turns him away."

"I am thee, Marika!" shouted Radagon. "I have always been thee. If I am a cruel Lord, then so is thou also a cruel queen!"

When nothing was replied, Radagon began to pace the length of the throne room.

"Thou ruins all our designs through thy arrogance. Thou hast strutted around, circumventing the natural order of all things as though thou has created thyself!"

"Do not recite the Laws of the Golden Order to me, Radagon, when it was I who had observed their mechanisms throughout centuries and written them for man's understanding," said Marika. "I do not defy them but fulfill them. I would sooner let the fires of the Greater Will's craft run cold under the pale moonlight, and I would destroy the Elden Ring itself to see it so than to any longer be this being merged with thee. I had once listened to the Greater Will, removed death itself, and spun a world of decay and madness."

"Hast thou not gazed thine eyes at the world thou insists on destroying? No one stands above the Laws of Causality. Not even a goddess. "

"Let me speak to them all, Radagon. Say my own words..."

So, now free, Marika walked the lands again to see the secrets she had long hidden far below the earth. She hadn't shared her secrets with Radagon, for he had no empathy.

As she exited the gates and into the wilds of the Altus Plateau, the people looked up from their humble labors, seeing their goddess walking among the golden fields they planted with their hands. They were astonished and bowed down before her.

Soon came great multitudes as word that the goddess had come to walk among them spread quicker than fire in a dry field. Men, women, children. Some were aged beyond the years their bodies could maintain, so their flesh was barely sustained.

Their looks begged her for a miracle as the gold hue in their eyes showed dimly even upon the divine being who nurtured them. She heard their thoughts as doubt began to creep into their minds. Questions they left unspoken in fear of offending her. They feared the All-Mother who suckled and fed them from the soil of the Lands Between like a mother of her babe.

She opened her mouth to speak, "I declare mine intent, to search the depths of the Golden Order. Through understanding of the proper way, our faith, our grace is increased. Those blissful early days of blind belief are long past. My comrades; why must ye faulter?"

The women began to sing:

O, locus ille, beatus quondam, nunc deminuit.

Nos, destinatae matribus, nunc fiunt turpes.

Ploarvimus lacrimavimusque sed nemo nos consolatur.

Aureum, cui irascebaris?

Marika closed her eyes as their sorrow drifted to her ears.

But what choice did Marika have? They die, and their bodies are pulled back through the roots of the Erdtree to sprout again into life in the form of the dew that dripped down from the Erdtree's leaves. Each cycle of death and life, less and less of its grace, cycled through its branches, and the tree secreted less of its life-giving dew. What choice did Marika have but to remove the end and ration the life-bringing blessings?

But they did not weep for death; they did weep for the loss of children they could not have.

This world was in terrible need of healing.

Marika continued to search, and her short journey would take her down into the bowels of the Lands-Between. She had long sealed off the tunnel to prevent its tampering until the time was right.

It wasn't, but there was one there whom Marika once called "the Wisest."

It had been centuries, yet Marika remembered each turn as if it were yesterday. Each invisible wall that she placed to deter intruders, yet not be completely impenetrable either. She tapped them with her hammer to cause them to fade away until she was in the center of it all.

Sitting cross-legged upon the golden surface of the spark that once fell from the night sky was the one who called himself a Lord of the Stars. He smiled and said, "Thou art centuries earlier than I expected, Fair Lady. Or would thou prefer I call thee the Eternal?'"

"Call me what thou pleases, for I shall always call thee 'Lord,'" said Marika as she sat down with him.

The Onyx Lord reached out his hand but hesitated, unsure if he could still touch her. It had been so long, but soon, he took a strand of that golden hair. When he first saw it, it made him so curious that he couldn't resist touching it.

"Indeed," replied the Onyx Lord. His voice was deep and slow. A man who calculated the ages by the slow rotation of the galaxies just as Marika calculated hers by the tree's rings. As for names, there was no need for that. Among those called the Onyx and Alabaster Lords, they were merely called "Friends."

All life was consistent and sustained in the harmony of the rotation, from the grand stars to the small molecules.

"How be the student of my kind's art?"

"Stirring trouble, of course," said Marika.

The Lord laughed, "That is Radahn. Young is still at heart and is always looking to prove his might among others. Oh, how I miss the sky. To see the stars as they turn and slowly reveal themselves through their life-giving light. I sense he has reached his ambition to halt them to protect the Lands-Between from the beings above. I always feared that so. When young men are driven to ambition, they are driven to purpose. And when achieving that so young, they descend into nothing but stagnation."

"I have given him my daughter."

"A stagnant man betrothed to the goddess that feeds off stagnation. They sound like a fine match for each other when thy daughter is older, of course, but wo be these lands, Fair Lady."

"My other half believes that Ranni's ambitious Age of Stars is too dangerous to see it brought about," said Marika.

"And thee?"

"I fear him right."

"And yet thou named her thine heir."

"That is my sin. My tendency to betrayal. I intended her to be torn asunder by her own shadow in exchange for her to find the Finger-Slaying blade. An intended grand betrayal which I calculated in the dark dredges of my mind."

"But thou did not intend to come to love her like thine own."

Marika frowned. In a sense, Ranni was her "own," as were all Rennala's children. Marika never imagined she would feel for them the same way she did with her other children. She had tried to convince herself that another sired them, yet could never deny her other half, even as he was away from her for a season.

"Need not fear. I don't blame thee. I imagine she had reminded thee of thyself," said the Lord. His eyes saddened, and he wanted to add, "Just like our children," but that topic seemed forbidden to bring up.

There were memories long ago that they silently agreed never to speak of. When the Onyx Lord and Marika first met. When they became lovers. When she brought forth his children, only for them to die and Marika to drown in sorrow. Her vow to destroy all death fractured their tender love.

The Onyx Lord warned it was a mistake to think that possible, as even the galaxies had to cycle through life and decay. The stars soon run out of fuel, and their core begins to collapse, even as they cling to life, inflating and pulsating until they burn down to white embers and then to blackness.

So, shouldn't men and gods also relinquish their power in their own time?

When Marika returned, she found her dearest Miquella curled up in his bed. He had cried himself to sleep as he did many nights even before Malenia disappeared. He hugged his pillow to soothe himself in his sister's absence.

Marika laid a golden Erdtree branch down on Miquella's table, now fused with gold from the meteorite that crashed into the Lands-Between eons ago. It could grow into the miracle Marika had promised her people, but she wished Miquella to do so. With Ranni losing sight of her ambition and Godwyn holding on to his perverted secrets, Marika could trust no other of her offspring to bring about an age.

The drawings on Miquella's table caught Marika's attention after she set the branch down. The Golden Order had commissioned a personal artist while Marika was still married to Godfrey. Over the years, he painted most pictures and designed the various effigies that marked Marika's Golden Age. His current work, which he called his "masterpiece," was a statue of Radagon, which he intended to place in the capital.

Marika didn't care for the man, as she didn't like mortals looking at her. It was nothing personal or even hateful. Her particular species of Numan did not like attention. He was a grumpy man who even gave Marika a lip if she interrupted him. Yet, it looked like Miquella, with his persuasion powers, had pulled the man away to draw up some designs for prosthesis arms that were as beautiful as they were practical.

Marika wondered for a moment if Hewg might forge them. That was if there wasn't the risk that Malenia might cause the arm to decay as she did everything else in time.

It looked like Miquella had given that problem a thought as well. There were symbols that Marika had not seen for some time, all drawn out on a slate. There was no use for such things, as Marika had effectively banished other gods from her lands. While these symbols for consecration were close, they weren't the exact ones suited for such a purpose. Miquella drew his resources from a book, and the author drew his theory from the few consecrated artifacts that still remained. He rightly deduced that consecration spells required using a specific ancient alphabet but then used one that, although close, was far too modern. A few jots and tittles were missing, so Marika picked up the chalk and drew them in.

It wouldn't give Miquella the complete answer, but as clever as he was, Marika knew he would figure it out.

If I bring the sun to putrefaction and bury it in the earth, it will multiply like wheat and corn. My menstruum is nothing other than mercury viva, which decomposes the sun ex fundamento and brings it to putrefaction. For the more often I plant the seed, the more often I can reap the fruit. - Another One Told by a Silver Miner.

Chapter Text

Godwyn watched from above the old telescope as rows and rows of crimson-clad soldiers assembled in camps near Redmane Castle. Radahn often boasted about the capabilities of his "Redmane Knights." Although the knights were few, they demonstrated discipline and dedication to perfecting all aspects of warfare, from weapons to routines. In turn, the knights ensured the soldiers under them were as capable in battle, from the armored man-at-arms to the humble foot soldier. No man was forgotten when it came to perfecting his craft.

Now, Godwyn feared Radahn intended to use this scuffle to test his theories in battle, and Godwyn knew he could never match Radahn in either strategy or numbers. For him to gather, even half the same number would take days, if not weeks. His soldiers were certainly not as well trained.

Godwyn would have to pull back into Stormveil, which might leave Limgrave vulnerable to occupation by the Redmanes. And, unless he could come up with a clever counter-offensive, it would only delay the inevitable loss.

Fortissax waited for him down by the cliff where he might remain hidden from the watchmen.

"Well?" the dragon asked.

"I'll have to retreat to Stormveil," said Godwyn.

"And then?"

"I'm not sure. Anyway, if you stay with me, the Redmanes will look to target you specifically. It would be best if you left," said Godwyn.

"I wish our numbers were greater to help you, my friend," said Fortissax.

Godwyn smiled and rubbed his friend's nose, "Me too, old friend."

The road back to Limgrave from this area was straightforward, but the whole of Caelid was prepped for war. He was lucky that no one spotted him coming in on Fortissax, but he was certain leaving might present a different challenge. He needed to run swiftly, snag a horse, and then ride speedily through the various blockades and checkpoints Radahn placed along the road.

As he checked to ensure he had everything, he sensed someone watching him. He slipped his sword from the sheath.

"Wait!" said a woman's voice behind him.

Godwyn turned to see Tiche waiting in a tree. She leaped from branch to branch to land on the ground next to him.

Tiche smiled, "If you plan to go back along the road, you'll surely be spotted. You should head south and take the Gael Tunnel. Just make sure you steer away from the fort."

Godwyn nodded, grateful for the advice.

"And what are you doing here?" Godwyn asked.

"Queen Marika has summoned Lansseax, so the Communion of Dragons is postponed," said Tiche.

"Odd. My mother never cared for the dragons or their interests," said Godwyn.

"And the dragons had no care for her," Fortissax added. "Particularly not my sister."

"I have no doubt it has something to do with what's happening here. Have you called for help from your mother?"

Godwyn scoffed.

"Sorry, I asked," Tiche replied.

"She has an attitude of winning at all costs. I want to minimize casualties," said Godwyn. "If she becomes involved, Caelid is as good as destroyed."

"Then perhaps attacking that chapel wasn't your smartest move," said Tiche.

Godwyn glared at her.

"Look, I get there's tension between you and your stepbrother. And sometimes, the only way you can deal with such tensions is by show of force. I am not against that. But you need help. And, more importantly, information. I can get it for you."

"How?" Godwyn asked.

"Don't be asking the how. Just trust me. I know no one here, so if I'm captured, they can assume me nothing but a common thief," said Tiche.

"I'm not asking you to involve yourself."

"I'm offering to do so," said Tiche.

She pointed to the castle. "Supplies are arriving every hour or so, which tells me that Radahn is anticipating this as a long conflict."

"Humm... if we could find out where those supplies are coming, we might have a chance to cut them off," said Godwyn.

"Exactly," said Tiche.

"Fortissax, you think you can figure that out?"

"I'll do what I can."

"And what would the prince have me do?" Tiche asked.

"I need to know where my sister is. Rescue her if possible. Without Malenia, then Radahn has nothing that will keep my mother at bay," said Godwyn.

Tiche was puzzled, "I thought you didn't want your mother to destroy Caelid."

"I don't. But Radahn doesn't know that. He took my sister to get her attention and avoid her wrath."

Tiche smiled, "Of course. I will see to it."

"Be careful," Godwyn reminded her.

The sentiment was uncomfortable to Tiche.

"What is it?" Godwyn asked.

"Nothing," said Tiche. She laughed, "My mother would have told me to 'not be stupid.' I suppose it's the same thing."

Redmane castle was well fortified, but it wasn't impenetrable. Nothing was. All generals had finite resources and managed their garrisons depending on what sort of attack they anticipated. In this case, Radahn prepared a wide-scale attack from Limgrave and aimed his forces in that direction. These configurations had flaws which, depending on how they were, Tiche could exploit.

This explained why Radahn assembled his men outside the castle, as he intended to march a full-scale invasion before Godwyn had time to read and plan his own. He had a force of light infantry to rush the villages with lightning speed, followed by the heavily armored soldiers.

It was clear that Godwyn had made the right choice in withdrawing to Stormveil. Any attempt to come at Radahn's forces would be like water breaking against the rocks.

Ideally, Tiche thought to wait until the cover of the night, where her silver armor, which mimicked the shine of the night sky and the sound of the void, was most effective. But she abandoned the thought when she saw an opportunity to hitch a ride on the back of one of the carts. The two drivers were busy arguing over who might receive what cut of the payment to the point where they were about to come to blows. The guards attempted to defuse the situation, which allowed Tiche to climb into the back without anyone noticing.

The cart bounced across the bridge, and Tiche noted the siege equipment Radahn placed up by the cliff face of Redmane castle. These could launch at any forces attempting to cross the bridge or even destroy it if necessary. Combined with the hornet's nest that Godwyn would kick up if he tried a frontal assault, an offensive war was a lost cause.

As interesting as this was, it didn't help form a winning strategy for Godwyn. No one could win a defensive war.

Tiche had her first setback when the carriage arrived at the gates of Redmane castle to yet another checkpoint. This one, Ogha ordered the men to pull out every single crate, barrel, and bag to open and inspect. Even with her cloak shielding her from sight, Tiche knew it was a matter of time before they discovered her.

She leaped out over the side of the cart, disturbing some of the wooden pallets. It caught Ogha's attention, who approached with his massive bow at the ready. He motioned the men to surround the cart while two climbed in the back to throw everything out. Ogha notched an arrow and controlled his breathing as he readied himself to fire.

Nothing.

The men looked at him and shrugged. Ogha scratched the back of his head and looked around to see if he might spot anyone suspicious.

"Getting a little tired, old man," laughed one of the soldiers.

"Maybe," Ogha laughed. "I'll take a break, I think, while you lads finish up."

Soon, he felt the tug on the tail of his tunic.

"Finlay? What is it, sweetheart?" Ogha asked.

Finlay looked at the ground and rubbed her barefoot in the dirt. It was her way of saying she was hungry, as she was often too scared to ask for food. It was one of the problems with the war preparations. While the men's attitudes ranged from indifference to accepting the girl, it was easy to neglect her among their other duties when the castle was constantly alert. She wasn't getting fed regularly as of late. No matter how much Ogha tried to explain that if she were ever hungry, the cook would never deny her a meal, it never seemed to stick.

Ogha picked her up before he took one more look at the cart. He carried Finlay inside the castle to the canteen, where she could get some stew.

"I'm told you haven't hidden any food. So the cook has a nice treat for you," said Ogha.

Tiche felt tempted to run through the open gate, but she hesitated when she saw the number of soldiers gathered for their evening meal. She decided on another path that surrounded the castle wall. It was where Radahn positioned his siege equipment.

She began to feel a sense of disgust at this whole situation, not just at Radahn, who, of course, was largely to blame for the affair, but also at Godwyn for playing into it. This incident was forming itself as a large affair likely to cost lives. And, if Tiche's mother was right, the Erdtree was losing its ability to fulfill its promise of rebirth, then these were lives lost forever.

The soldiers on the cliff had their hands full, shooing away the man-sized bats that tended to congregate on the cliffs. They threw fire pots at them and used spears to hold them back. It was futile as these creatures were territorial and loved the shaded enclosed areas the cliffs offered to roost.

It was a good opening for Tiche, and she grew careless as she leaped over the cliffs gracefully with her feet only tapping the surface like she was floating.

When she leaped into the graveyard behind the castle, Tiche chuckled as she watched the poor soldiers continue their battle with the creatures.

She was then knocked over from behind by a terrible screech. She covered her head as she felt a sense of confusion. In a second, Tiche, without thinking, rolled over and swung her blade, which cut the bat's throat. She was then on top of it, stabbing it repeatedly until she was sure it was dead.

She shook her head as her ears still rang and tried to get up. Through the echoing sound, she could almost hear her mother's criticisms.

A dog could do better.

Anything could be done better!

You're slower than a tortoise.

I swear Marika gave you to me as a curse.

Tiche opened her eyes, not sure why she was crying.

Tiche forced herself to concentrate as she noticed the ladder that would take her up to the ramparts, where she might get a better view of the entire layout. More important, she needed to know where Radahn's council was to hear their plan of attack.

She spotted a little red-haired girl in the courtyard.

Malenia squatted down as she played in the dirt with Finlay in the courtyard that led up to the chapel. How easy it would be to snatch the little girl up and settle this matter, Tiche wondered.

Tiche crept close until she could hear what the girls were talking about.

By their interaction alone, it was easy to see Malenia was the dominant personality in that friendship. She dictated the game while Finlay followed along. They pretended to plant flowers while Malenia talked about her little brother and how he cared for his lilies. She paused a moment, thinking about it, and Finlay waited for her to continue. Malenia was sad when she said, "I wish I could see him again, but Radahn says I have to stay here."

Finlay didn't follow along with the instructions. She seemed content just to have someone to play with while she moved the dirt around into piles, regardless of how to do it "correctly."

Ogha returned with what appeared to be a sweet roll and handed it to Finlay. The girl was delighted and broke the cake in half to give a piece to Malenia.

"No. You keep it. Demigods don't need to take things from mortals," said Malenia.

It wasn't an arrogant statement on Malenia's part or one meant to shame Finlay. It impressed Tiche that a child who was a goddess herself would recognize it was neither within her need nor right to take from others. And Finlay was happy to have the whole thing to herself. How she devoured it caused Malenia to laugh and promise she'd snatch a plate of sweet rolls from her brother next time.

It was so easy for Tiche to swoop down and snatch the little girl up, but she had no idea how she might escape if she did. She pondered the situation and decided she might dash for it when the gate opened again.

Tiche's intentions were interrupted when she spotted Radahn and Jerren looking over the courtyard from the church grounds. Radahn, having a moment away from his planning, watched over his little sister to ensure she was getting along well with this temporary life, interacting with the mortals and the general army life.

It wasn't long before one of the servants whispered something in Radahn's ear, and he exclaimed, "What? Why is she here?"

His angry reaction caused Tiche to abandon her plan to snatch Malenia - which wasn't likely to succeed anyway - and follow the demigod back to where he held his councils. It was a group of chairs under the devices that were used to calculate the mechanisms and movement of the stars. Since Radahn halted the stars, Tiche doubted it would find any use anymore.

Lansseax, in her human form, looked over the beach at the beautiful cliff faces and dunes across the river. The coming and going of the boats drew the dragon's attention. Her dress was a long, glittering silver cloth that seemed to float every time she moved. Her hair was down with silver bangs, with the rest dark as the night and her skin a delicate olive color.

"I had not invited you to my castle," said Radahn.

"I come as merely an envoy. No more and no less," Lansseax responded, not looking away from the harbor.

"You can tell Godwyn that he needs to be more of a man. Stop letting women do his work for him," said Radahn.

"I had assumed this form as I thought it was in good manners. Would you rather me instead as a dragon, Red Lion?" said Lansseax, now staring at him with her yellow, unblinking eyes.

"What are you here for?"

"I come here at Queen Marika's request," said Lansseax.

"The queen is asking a dragon for help. She must be desperate."

"Do not mistaken her intentions, Red Lion. Practices of good diplomacy in sending a neutral party are hardly desperation."

"I'm to believe you're a neutral party when your brother just helped burn one of my chapels to the ground?"

"Lying is a human weakness stemming out of fear. A dragon, has no fear."

"Then remind her that I have her daughter."

"She is well aware. And she has a message for you. In Marika's own words, she says, 'Radahn, if it makes you happy to continue your pissing match with Godwyn, go right ahead. As for my only daughter, my sole concern is that Malenia is far too old for these foolish tantrums of her brothers. Thus, I ask Lansseax to take custody of her until the whelps of my and my Lord's loins finally grow bored with one another. Shows of strength have no meaning when all it leads to is foolish bravado.'"

"And I'm to take your word for it?" Radahn scoffed.

"If you wish to believe it a bluff, you can wait until Queen Marika's patience is exhausted. Given how she's treated her past enemies, it is unlikely Caelid will survive the encounter," said Lansseax. "And worry not about the girl being in my care. She knows me."

Lansseax called for Malenia, and when the girl came, she knelt next to the little demigod and explained that she arrived at the request of Queen Marika.

"Mama?" said Malenia.

"Yes. We should go now," said Lansseax.

"Wait. Can Finlay come?" said Malenia.

Lansseax hesitated and looked back at Jerren, who laughed, "The girl comes in a set. You want her, you have to take the other."

"I will strongly encourage you to take the girl with you too," said Radahn. "It's essential for my sister's well being."

"I am only instructed to take Marika's daughter. The little girl must stay behind," said Lansseax.

Malenia frowned and walked up to little Finlay. "I have to go now. But I'll have mama send for you when I get home and you can meet my brother."

She wrapped her arm around Finlay's neck before she took Lanssaex's hand.

"Where are we going?" Malenia asked.

"To the Chapel of Communion," replied Lansseax.

Tiche was elated. Snatching Malenia from there would be far easier.

"Can we fly there?"

"You have no wings."

"Godwyn rides on Fortissax," said Malenia.

"I am not a horse," scolded Lansseax.

Tiche almost laughed. Sure, Lansseax wouldn't take it well for Tiche to cross her, but the matter of the dragon communion was to get close to Godwyn, which she had already accomplished. There was no need to hold such an alliance anymore.

Tiche leaped down from the wall and crouched past the soldiers. If she could reach the storage room below the castle, she could escape out of the court and back into the cemetery again. Once Tiche jumped into the courtyard, it was only a matter of slipping past the guards undetected...

An arrow whizzed past her head and stuck in the door.

It was Ogha. On the ground before him was a sentry's torch, which he must have fetched when he took the little girl to get food. He pulled back his arrow and launched another shot, which Tiche rolled to dodge. The Redmanes now moved to surround her. Tiche couldn't allow them to get behind her and close her in.

She leaped back like she was floating, which was how the Numans moved. Ogha fired his arrow, and Tiche jumped, launching a gold shine that made him duck and the others next to him scatter.

Tiche leaped over to where Finlay was watching and grabbed Finlay. The men all paused.

"Get back," shouted Tiche with a knife to the girl's throat. She breathed hard, looking for any sign of an opening.

Please, don't force me to hurt the child, she thought as the Redmanes cautiously came closer to her. This time, they truly were angry.

"You hurt her..." growled Ogha.

"Then get back!" shouted Tiche. Finlay was crying as Tiche shuffled back toward the door. When she reached it, she shoved the girl towards the men, and Ogha quickly grabbed Finlay's hand and pulled her behind him.

Tiche was already through the door before Ogha could aim his bow again. He charged after her, but she had barricaded the exit.

Finlay was delighted when she saw Ogha. He rubbed away her tears as she cried. He picked her up and caught a glance of Lansseax, who was still on the grounds staring at them.

Malenia was shaking, even though she wasn't the one in danger. She clung to Lansseax's hand as the dragon priestess contemplated what to do next. The general had barked out orders for everyone to search the grounds. Ensure no corner was left untouched.

"Godwyn sent that creature, and I want her head on a stake," said the general.

Malenia tugged on Lansseax's skirt, and as the dragon listened, she begged and pleaded for Finlay to come where she could be safe. Lansseax approached the knight, who was gently rocking Finlay.

"Is she well?" Lansseax asked.

"She'll be fine," said Ogha.

"I have changed my mind and will take her with me if you desire. She seems to share a bond with my demigod ward already," said Lansseax.

Ogha hesitated but soon relented. Lansseax was right. He explained it to Finlay, who didn't wish to leave him. She clung to her foster father, who explained that she could come home again once this was over.

"You have your duty to Malenia, remember?" said Ogha.

Finlay nodded.

"I didn't think dragons have hearts," said Ogha, handing Finlay to Lansseax.

"If we had no hearts, then there would be nothing for our disciples to devour," replied Lansseax.

The Green Dragon is the philosopher's mercury, whose treasure can only be found by those who are as pure as children . - Roob, 227

Chapter Text

Jerren watched the Summon Water Village through a pair of binoculars. It seemed tranquil and innocent. Although they had soldiers stationed to protect it, the people within were unaware that the Redmanes were just outside their doorstep. He had kept his men hidden, advancing only during the cover of night with Radahn's gravity magic, making their armor and weapons light to make their movement swift as the wind.

The campaign's goal was to take the three bridges leading into Limgrave: one that led directly to Stormveil, another to the Weeping Pennisula, and the third, which Jerren led, that overtook the Saints Bridge.

It was a good strategy that cut off Godwyn's movement in Limgrave and effectively preventing him from getting behind Radahn's army or attacking Caelid directly. However, it was not without its flaws. Jerren feared that if Radahn could not end the conflict soon, he might stretch himself too thin to hold all three positions.

Jerren played the strategy over in his mind. The attack needed to be swift, and he had no chance to mount a defense, but he had to overcome the water surrounding the village. Unfortunately, buoyancy had nothing to do with gravity and they couldn’t easily cross without drowning.

A direct attack was impossible, but he could lure the people into a panic and force them to not only abandon the village but also provoke Godwyn to face the Redmanes on equal grounds instead of the high cliffs.

With his decision made, Jerren turned to his men and said, "Hear me now! Should we go forward with courage in service of the Great Red Lion Radahn and justice? Let us lay out this victory today!"

"Justice."

Jerren felt a sense of guilt after he had argued with Radahn over the matter when the general brought back Malenia. He had thought this was a mere affair of two stepbrothers over wounded pride, but it wasn't until later that Radahn painted the entire picture.

After a long talk, the two reconciled their differences while Radahn carried Malenia and Finlay to bed., one in each arm The general explained what he knew and what he suspected. His sister, Ranni, was not well. She was afraid and anxious and didn't want to open up even to her two brothers. She went to the Caria Manor to seek their mother's comfort.

Radahn began to suspect that Godwyn had coerced or outright forced his sister. The entire purpose of kidnapping Malenia was to force Marika -and, to a lesser extent, Radagon- to reconcile the situation rather than sweep it under the rug as she had done in the past with Godwyn's misdeeds. Before her throne, all might be laid out: Ranni would have a chance to speak on the matter from her perspective, and Marika would have to listen. Then, perhaps, she might see that her son was indeed unworthy of the title of Lord and thus move forward with her plan to place Miquella on the seat instead.

When Godwyn decided to burn down the church, all plans soon changed. Godwyn showed his willingness to retaliate, which surprised Radahn. Such things were often viewed as a direct attack against Queen Marika herself, and could shake the faith of the mortals to their core. The general had to show those he swore to protect that he was still willing to defend them and not allow such violence to stand.

So Jerren now stood at the edge of the Summonwater Village with a prayer to the Goddess he no longer believed in and that the general was right: this was what it now took. Jerren ordered the great bowmen to prepare to move into position first. Three volleys, one after enough, Jerren predicted, was enough to cause the panic he wished.

He spotted Ogha, who was stringing his great bow. He was quiet, the opposite personality of the old knight who always shared a camaraderie among the younger ones. It concerned Jerren that his frown and lack of encouragement might affect the morale of the other men.

"She doesn't do well in new places," said Ogha.

"She'll be fine, Ogha," said Jerren. "She and the little demigod are practically inseparatable."

"She needs to come home," growled Ogha. The castle was the only real life Finlay knew, and Ogha worried she wouldn't adapt well to living in the church with a dragon.

"Just don't let it affect your aim," replied Jerren.

As the archers started moving to position, Jerren was pleased that the other men were already picking themselves up from their rest, readjusting their armor, and gathering their equipment. The heavy knights mounted their horses, and the entire force was soon aligned in perfect rows.

The arrows soon soared through the sky and rained down over the village. People ran from their houses and began to flee towards the bridge. Jerren hesitated, even knowing he shouldn't before he ordered the light infantry to make their attack. Their minimal equipment and light armor allowed them to sweep through the village, which Jerren hoped all the villagers had already fled.

By this point, Godwyn's orange and green forces came marching toward the village in formation.

Jerren sounded the horn for the cavalry forward at a full charge, with the heavy and medium infantry moving in as support.

The horses slammed into the line at full charge, breaking into the middle. Godwyn's soldiers struggled to close the gap as the Redmanes pressed their advantages. They made their war cries and ran forward, slamming into Godwyn's lines in a loud clash.

Swords clanked against armor, hammers shattered shields, and spears splintered against breastplates. Each man turned to a savage as he ripped and tore into his enemies.

The ranks of Godwyn's soldiers began to collapse under the weight of the Redmanes. They were forced to pull back and retreat towards the bridge. The Redmanes gave chase, but only until Jerren ordered them to hold their position on the bloodied battlefield.

The Redmanes began to cheer at their victory among the bloodied battlefield.

Godwyn's men fought well, and bodies from both sides littered the ground. Men began to help lift their wounded comrades from the ground and carry them back to the village for treatment.

Olge approached him, "Why did you ask us to stop? We had them on the run."

Jerren pointed toward the Saints Bridge with the high cliffs on the western side.

"If we advance on them, they have all the advantage. Since our only mission was to keep Godwyn from using the bridge, I don't see any purpose in risking more lives," said Jerren. He sighed, "I pray there might not be further retaliation."

Back in Stormviel Castle, Godwyn kicked and broke the chair next to him in his war room and threw all the papers from his desk when he heard that Radahn now controlled two of the three major bridges in Limgrave.

"Why? Why can't they leave me be?" cried Godwyn. "Mother should have destroyed them all when she had the chance. Damn that Radagon for not keeping his dick from that witch."

Ranni listened as Godwyn's angry words echoed into their now shared bed chamber as she caressed her stomach. She stared out the window in the pale moon light and dreamed about a journey among the stars. Things were supposed to be easier once Godwyn knew, but aside from his initial reaction, Godwyn showed little interest in his unborn children. Ranni almost had to remind him that she was pregnant for him even to take notice, and then, it felt often forced.

"I am Godfrey's son! Me! I am the scion of the Golden Order. What is Radahn? A mere general who thinks he can emulate my father? He doesn't know the first thing about him!" said Godwyn. "First, he stalls the stars and steals my chance to become Lord. Now he kidnaps my sister and destroys my land. What makes him think he has any right to even lick my father's boots?"

Ranni could stand it no longer. If Godwyn didn't wish to bruise his fragile ego against a rock, then she should. She penned Godwyn a quick note and then called for Blaidd.

"Please, care for Godwyn," said Ranni as she handed him the note.

And therefore when the Lion doth thirst, Make him drink till his belly burst. - (Three Works of Ripley).

Chapter Text

Ranni returned to Leyndell in the company of one of Godwyn's soldiers, who they said was called "Rick." He was an odd fellow and excited to return to Leyndell since "it had been a while since he and Marika last talked." A puzzling statement since Ranni couldn't see how a common soldier in the Lands-Between would know Queen Marika, much less have a conversation with her.

Ranni refused his offer at first. Commoners made up almost all of Limgrave's footsoldiers, and such was forbidden entry into Leyndell. With the urgency of the matter, Ranni could not afford to complicate the logistics of her return. But Rick insisted, stating that she would experience no such delays.

He then switched the topic and asked her if she knew anything about the game called chess, to which Ranni replied only casually. Rykard was more the chess player, often outmaneuvering her with his queen.

"Ah, he's a rookie. Once we're in Leyndell, I will tell you the secret to capturing that troublesome queen."

Still, once she was in his care, had Rick told Ranni he was some god, she might have believed him. His command over the carriage was uncanny as he avoided even the slightest bump and imperfection in the stone road. Ranni, who couldn't seem to take even the slightest rocking without making her feel sick, found herself relaxed. Even Aurelia and Aureletta seemed to calm their constant movement to give their mother a moment to doze off. Sure, they still moved a bit, but they were away from the stress of Stormveil Castle.

It worried Ranni how much their father's anger seemed to affect them, even though they weren't born yet.

The golden rooftops of Leyndell were a relief to the princess. Sure, as he promised, Rick rode right through the gate without so much more than a brief word to the guards at the gate.

Leyndell's people seemed largely unaware of the happenings in Limgrave. They called it a "mild dispute" instead of a total war that it was. Most seemed not to even know about Malenia. Sure, there was talk of Miquella and "a great miracle" involving the boy. Harolds of the Golden Order shouted that Queen Marika had declared the coming of a new age that would preserve the Golden Order and its fundamental principles.

Ranni's heart sank. Each moment seemed her bid for power waned. Each day grew more hopeless that the halting of the stars was temporary, as her father suggested at the council all those months ago. She tried to remember Iji's wise words that if he was Elden Lord, he might feel forced to make the same decision. Without Rennala, the Carian Royal Family could not sustain itself as any serious power.

"New Age?" scoffed one merchant. "You want a 'New Age,' then burn this place to ashes."

Ranni was surprised by the comment and asked Rick to stop the carriage. She pulled up the hood of her cloak to avoid immediate recognition and stepped out to see what the commotion was about.

People grew upset with the merchant, with some pulling up the bricks on the road to throw at him. But even with the threats of death, the merchant stayed firm with his eyes, giving an eerie yellow hue.

"We shouldn't stay here," said Rick.

"I need to see this," said Ranni. She needed to understand things from the perspective of those who lived in the Lands-Between and not as a demigod aloof from the concerns of mortals.

"It is nothing but madness!"

Madness wasn't an understatement. When people went to threaten the merchant, they soon dropped to their knees, grabbed their ears, and wailed about a searing pain.

"Ugg!" said Ranni as she felt the burning sensation. Images of yellow fire swirled around her mind, and she soon was too disoriented to know where she was.

Rick grabbed Ranni's hand and led her back to the carriage.

One of Leyndell's knights fired a bolt that broke the hold. Foot soldiers soon tackled the merchant to the ground. After hog-tied him, they threw a sack over his head and carried him out, still screaming.

"Chaos will take this world! The Frenzied Flame and Three-Fingers dwell among us in this city! Not even Marika herself could cool its fury! Whether by the hand with three fingers or by two, the Tarnished will return and burn it all! Damn, the queen who lays these seeds to see it so," cried the merchant. "The only question is which poor fool will serve to kindle it all!"

Ranni was shaking when they headed out again, but thankfully, her sight began to clear.

"What was that?" she asked.

"An old magic. It's something you'd best ask Godwyn," said Rick.

"What hath he to do with that?"

"I didn't say anything," said Rick, which signaled to Ranni that he already said too much.

Secrets again. There were so many of them that it was impossible to know which secrets to pursue and which not. And she made her mental note to ask Godwyn.

She was relieved to see the palace grounds. Again, as Rick promised, there was no hesitation from the guards to wave them through, which was a relief. But stranger yet, none of them even asked who was in the back.

Radagon waited at the gate, and by the look of it, it seemed he had been for some time. The servants would have told him as soon as the carriage arrived to allow the Elden Lord to resume his duties as he waited. But Radagon could only keep his focus for so long. He paced back and forth with his hands behind his back, only looking up when he heard the wheels of a wagon. When the guards said it wasn't her, Radagon resumed his pacing.

Radagon only stopped when it was announced the coach had arrived. While he held his regal poise, it barely masked his overall excitement.

The moment Ranni stepped out, Radagon embraced her as he ignored every formality of royalty. Typical of his character, of course. Even when still married to Rennala, Radagon seemed not to care about such things.

"My little girl. I was so worried about you," cried Radagon. He then said in a whisper, "How are you?"

"Doing well, Father," said Ranni.

Too many people were watching for Ranni to say how she felt about things. The truth was that she felt distressed and upset constantly. Godwyn did all but completely neglect her. And while Ranni tried to be mindful that his lands were under threat, she couldn't ignore that they, too, had children on the way that needed their father.

"Why are you shaking?" Radagon asked.

"I'm sorry. It was a long journey," said Ranni. "Radahn had cut off access to the Weeping Pennisula and the tower of return."

"I am so happy you're back," said Radagon. He then noted Rick as he pulled Ranni's belongings out of the carriage. "What is he doing here?"

Ranni was puzzled and replied, "He was my coach."

Radagon approached Rick and said something in a hushed tone. But his face was the one Radagon showed whenever he was angry. Ranni knew that face well, as she and her brothers often saw it when they were up to some mischief.

Whatever Radagon had to say, Rick seemed not to mind. He just continued his work, this time cleaning the dirt from the horses' hooves with a smirk, even as Radagon continued to criticize him.

"I think your better half will have a different opinion," Rick said.

"She's not here," said Radagon.

"Of course, she isn't. But she is near enough to hear," said Rick.

"Fine. Do what you wish," said Radagon.

When Radagon turned his back a moment, Rick said, "You remember I promised the secret to chess. The trick to capturing the queen is putting her in a position where the only choice is to either protect the king or herself."

Ranni wanted to ask her father what that was, but she knew better than to inquire when Radagon was frustrated. The man merely wanted his daughter's company, so Ranni took his arm when he offered it.

Pleasantries were exchanged in their walk along the palace's grounds, sharing memories of Ranni's childhood. The delight she had when she received her "doggy," Blaidd, and the times when Radagon, without a care in the world, had the time and energy to spend and play with his children. At the time, Radagon's children were his only concern, symbolizing the passionate love he shared with his wife.

Since his rise to Elden Lord, Radagon seemed to have neither the time nor patience. He was far less happy on the whole. His marriage to Marika to appease the Golden Order was far more toxic than even the Lake of Rot. His time was divided between his duties and caring for two cursed children, one of whom was severely ill. It took its toll to a point where it was difficult to love Malenia. Her constant cries and pleas at the hands of those terrible treatments wore him down.

"I'm sorry for all that happened between us," said Radagon.

Ranni was surprised at this.

"The matter between your mother and I... and the fact that we have taken away the age you were destined to lead... and doing nothing for your sister... you must feel your life has been ruined," said Radagon.

"I have seen the face of war, Father, and what it's done to the man I love. I had asked for an Age of Stars to bring that upon the Lands-Between," said Ranni.

She had to face the truth: the Lands-Between was weak. There was no way that Rennala could lead an army, and Luirnia did not see her offspring as fitting rulers. And now, with two daughters of her own to worry about, Ranni didn't feel the same way she did about things. She just wished for the man she loved to return so they could peacefully raise their children in whatever golden prosperity this age had left to offer.

"And how are the little ones?" Radagaon asked.

"Well, Father," Ranni replied with a slight smile as her hand went instinctively to her stomach.

"You'll be a fine mother to them, I'm sure," said Radagon as he kissed her cheek. "If there is anything I can do, I will not deny it."

"I seek an audience with my stepmother, Queen Marika," said Ranni.

"Ranni, you know that your stepmother answers to no one. She appears when she sees fit, not when commanded," replied Radagon.

"Then what is the soonest I can expect to make one?"

"She's beside herself with grief at this time. Losing her daughter hasn't been easy," said Radagon.

Ranni raised an eyebrow, more annoyed, "Is it her idea or thine to lie about this matter?"

Radagon sighed defeat. He forgot how he raised his daughter to be clever above all other things.

"What does Marika know?" Ranni asked.

"She knows it was Radahn that took your sister. And she's aware he did so because Godwyn offended him, though she is not fully aware of what the offending act was," said Radagon. "In response, she does not wish to become involved and feed into this childishness."

"This 'childishness' is leading to people's deaths," replied Ranni. She sighed and hesitated to speak more, "I know Queen Marika's power is waning. She cannot keep the promise of grace through the cycle of rebirth indefinitely."

"It was one of many reasons the Golden Order is so appealing. The promise of death having its end and eternal life is a far too enticing offer for people to let go. It's why your Age of Stars failed to garner support from Marika's followers, even with the marriage to Godwyn," said Radagon.

Ranni put her hand on Radagon's cheek, "Please, Papa. Allow me an audience. I beg of thee."

Here is the division of the four elements As from the lifeless corpse the soul ascends . - (Fabricious, 104)

Malenia woke with a start and barely able to breath. In a panic, she patted her legs to find them still attached to her. But as soon as her hand reached her right shoulder, she burst out crying when she felt nothing there.

The darkness of the chapel with all its grotesque dragon effigies didn't help calm the young girl and she was soon wailing.

"Mama," she muttered. "I want my mama."

"Your mother isn't here and nor is she coming," said Lansseax. The dragon, who was looking out the window towards Limgrave, turned and glared at Malenia with her yellow eyes, "She does not play the game of fools."

Lansseax's words terrified the young girl, which seemed to cause the dragon priestess to grow more impatient.

"You continue and you will both wake your friend and achieve nothing," said Lansseax.

"I'm not trying to achieve anything! I want to go home!"

"That is impossible."

"Then why can't I go back to my brother?"

"Why? Come here now and I show you," said Lansseax.

She pointed out the window to where there were spots of what appeared as glowing embers dotting over the land of Limgrave as the Redmanes burned their way toward Stormveil.

"I once served a Lord of Dragons. His god fled, but rather than accepting that his age had ended and his god had left, he decided to wait beyond time for its return. One of his subordinates, Gransax, fearing that the rising of the new goddess and new Queen over the Lands-Between might mean their old god may never return, he made his attack against Leyndell.

"He had guessed that the departure of the Elden Lord Godfrey would mean that its walls could fall and the destruction of it and the Erdtree will follow.

"For weeks, we, the Ancient Dragons, pounded against the great walls of Leyndell and still they held. But Gransax would not call off the seige. In one, final gambit, he launched his mighty bolt against one of the walls and thus they fell. Victory seemed guaranteed. But what he did not know was that waiting behind the crumbled rubble were a thousand arrows fixed with lightening. They pierced through his scales and he fell among the ruins of his own creation.

"This is how Marika fights her wars. Behind the fallen walls and certain victory is always another trap. Radahn may win this battle. It is certain. But Radahn will win this battle only to fall to one who has well earned well her title as goddess. He will turn the entirity of the Lands-Between against him, and then Marika only has to keep her promise."

"What is her promise?" Malenia asked.

Back in Leyndell, in the hollows of the Erdtree, Marika sees the Elden Ring begin to crack and she smiles.

Chapter Text

The inability to secure herself an official audience with the Queen left Ranni worried. It was almost a clear message behind her father's words that Ranni did not hold the place of respect she once enjoyed. Without the stars moving about in their proper order, Ranni had nothing by which she could threaten or promise Queen Marika, and as such, she was not effectively invalid.

Queen Marika was still her stepmother, and as such, Ranni had access by which she could speak with Marika. Of course, nothing was official in these audiences, and Marika had no obligation to keep anything promised within these discussions - a mistake she made when discussing the details of her taking Queen Marika's place.

Despite the risk of Queen Marika breaking her word again, Ranni had to try to convince the Queen to take action in Limgrave. So, she came to the throneroom outside the Erdtree, where Marika spent most of her time and waited for the Queen to do whatever the gods did with their time. There was a part of Ranni that was curious, but all she'd ever seen was a bright golden light.

Ranni just hoped Marika wouldn't do one of her "peek-a-boo" tricks, as Rykard called it when she appeared out of nowhere without warning. However, she only did that to Rykard, probably as revenge against him, vexing her so often. Ranni even slightly chuckled when Rykard recruited her for some mischief or another. Sure enough, Marika appeared from nowhere, grabbed Rykard by the ear, and dragged him away for what Ranni could assume was a stark rebuke. The Queen had never laid a hand on her stepchildren before or since, so this was a surprise.

Ranni tried to stay focused, as even a moment of lapsed concentration might mean she missed her stepmother entirely. But it seemed impossible. She kept looking back at the bedchamber and what had happened between her and Godwyn, which was challenging to come to terms with. She knew that the dew of the Erdtree was the source of all life in the Lands-Between. Godwyn knew this, too, but insisted on continuing even after Ranni grew uncomfortable and asked him to stop.

"I've always been impressed with thine patience, Luner Princess Ranni," said Queen Marika as she descended the stairs leading to the Erdtree.

Ranni looked and saw that it was already late evening. When Ranni arrived, it was early afternoon. In fact, what day was it? The throne room was filled with brown leaves that had fallen from the tree, where before, Ranni was sure there was none.

"I beg thy pardon for my intrusion, my queen," said Ranni.

"It's no worry. It has been some time since we've talked as two women," said Marika. She cocked her head and pointed to Ranni's swollen stomach. "My son's?"

"Yes," said Ranni.

Marika took Ranni's cheeks to have her kneel before her and kissed the top of her stepdaughter's head. She continued to embrace Ranni as she cried, "My beloved grandchildren. I hear thy names Aurelia and Aureletta. May these names always be blessed by grace. May ye know that ye are loved. Within thy veins is the blood of two great queens and the legacy of the Golden Lineage.

"Ranni, my dear stepchild. What hath thou come to ask of me?"

"I ask thee for thy intervention between my fiancee and brother," replied Ranni.

"And why shall I do that? My daughter is not in any danger in thy brother's care."

"They tear the lands of Limgrave and Caelid apart," replied Ranni.

"Homes can be rebuilt. Crops can be replanted. And by the grace of the Erdtree, all life can be reborn anew," said Marika.

"Thou insists on maintaining the faith of the Erdtree's blessings, but I have seen thy lands. I have seen the roots of thy very tree tear apart the soil and drain it of all the nutrients," said Ranni. "Thou hast ran this land to ruin for thine impossible promises. I beg of thee to allow me to make that right. And it begins by stopping this conflict and bringing all together."

"That will not be necessary. Miquella now has everything he needs to bring about an age of the Golden Order that will undo all that has cursed this land. An age of infinite abundance."

"This has nothing to do with ages and orders. I have forsaken my ambition for power for the sake of my children. Whatever age may come in the future means nothing at this time. We have only now. I beg of thee, Queen Marika. As one mother to another."

"And who would you have me side with? Thy brother or thy fiancee."

"Why must I choose?"

"Because it is you who makes the request of me, Ranni. This is why thou hast lost thine Age of Stars. Thou hast always fool-heartedly believed that compromise can always be made and both sides can always be spared without sacrifice."

"All I ask is that all I have come to love be spared."

"Very well," said Queen Marika. "You will regret sparing them both, but it is what you wish."

Chapter Text

In Sublimation first beware of one thing, That thou Subline to the top of the vessel not; For without violence thou shalt it not down bring. - The Three Works of Ripley

The battle horn sounded, and Godwyn's forces advanced towards the Redmane lines under a hail of arrows so thick that it seemed to black out the sun. They struck down against the front line, where the soldiers could form their phalanx, but now pinned down behind their shield wall. Another horn sounded, and the Redmane calvary rode like bright red blazes through the ash and smoke. Their lances smashed against the shield wall and broke the line wide open.

The Redman infantry charged forward now to press the advantage, but a blast of red lightning halted the advancement.

"There's the beast," said Radahn as he spotted the beast. He drew out his mighty bow and pulled back the string. He aimed and fired at Fortissax's wing. The dragon spun to dodge the arrow just as Radahn expected, but it was now within range of his gravity magic.

Radahn called down a shower of stones from the stars that now obeyed his commands as their master. A well-placed bolt from Fortissax missed Radahn but was enough to cause him to abandon the strategy.

"Your kind are not the gods of this world, Dragon! I am the Red Lion! And may you bow down to a demigod of Godfrey's Golden Order!" cried Radahn.

"Fool! You evoke the name of the one whose own blood you contend," responded Fortissax.

Radahn buried his two blades into the ground and pulled stones from them, which caused them to spin around him. Fortissax folded his wings and dove toward the general right between the cloud of stone. Fortissax's magic which injured Radahn as he shot a rain of lightning.

It was now a battle of fists and fangs and claws and swords. Fortissax wiped his tail and knocked one sword from Radahn's hand. When he went in to crush Radahn with his jaw, Radahn wrapped his arms around Fortissax's snout, and the dragon lifted his head and slammed Radahn three times into the ground.

Even with his magic, Radahn's muscles strained as he lifted Fortissax from the ground and slammed him down.

Radahn spent a moment breathing hard before being confident enough to let the dragon go. Godwyn's forces had long since retreated in seeing the mightiest among them fall. His men took over to lash strong cords over the dragon's body and drag it away. The general's back was scratched and bruised, his armor covered in dents, and his cape torn to shreds, but Radahn won the battle. He removed the last real obstacle in his way, and the Red Lion was unstoppable.

"Take him back to the camp. I want him still alive," said Radahn.

Over Stormveil's cliffs, Godwyn watched his friend dragged away, and he grew angry. Kenneth insisted he stay in Stormveil, fearing the battle wouldn't favor him. Godwyn wished he didn't listen. If it was him on the battlefield...

Again, Kenneth was right! If it had been Godwyn on the battlefield, it would have been Godwyn now taken.

Godwyn's mind remained clouded by Ranni's parting words, which she left in the letter instead of telling him herself. All the accusations and criticisms about how he wasn't handling the situation in a manner that was best for himself or for the Lands-Between stung. This was a family matter that should have been settled before Marika and Radagon, not as the Queen and Elden Lord but as the matriarch and patriarch of the family.

He handed his binoculars to Kenneth Height, but hid his anger as best he could.

"Has anyone seen Tiche?" Godwyn asked.

"I'm afraid she has not returned," Kenneth replied.

"Keep trying to find her. I need to know every detail she could find," said Godwyn.

When Godwyn returned to the castle, Blaidd informed him that someone wished to see him immediately but could not say precisely who it was.

"I will see no one," said Godwyn.

"You don't have a choice in this matter. This is the order of Queen Marika," said Blaidd.

"I did not request her assistance! Must she always meddle?" Godwyn muttered.

Blaidd and Kenneth looked at each other, worried that Godwyn's rationale was not quite right. This wasn't a matter of whether Godwyn invited Marika's intervention! This matter had gone way out of hand, from a dispute over honor to a full-out war! The queen was bound to intervene, sooner or later, and if it were later, in ways that were swift and destructive.

When Blaidd said that the guest wasn't in the throne room, Godwyn was a bit confused. Instead, his guest was outside the Chapel of Anticipation, connected to his throne room by an outside walkway. Godwyn was equally baffled when he saw an aged troll sitting on a boulder, reading a book with a mirrored mask over his face.

Godwyn heard plenty about Iji - as Ranni spoke of him often - but he had never met the old troll before. It was confusing, too. If there were any side that Iji might join, it should have, by all logic, been Radahn's.

"What are you doing here?" Godwyn asked.

"I am here upon the request of the Elden Lord Radagon, the Goddess Queen Marika, and the dear Princess Ranni," replied Iji. "And it is more than apparent to me that you need my assistance."

"Don't decline him, Godwyn. Iji is one of the sharpest minds I know, and I'm pretty sure the only one who can match Radahn's tactics," said Blaidd.

"Indeed, his reputation does proceed him," said Kenneth.

"All I ask is that you keep my involvement a secret. The Carian Royal Family is already in a very precarious position. Even so much of a rumor that I have come under any request of Queen Marika will be yet another accusation that Queen Rennala cannot afford at this time," said Iji.

"Fine. I'm in no mood to argue," replied Godwyn.

"We do need the help, Old Friend," said Blaidd, which earned him a sharp look from Godwyn.

"From what I am told, it seems your current strategy is to attempt to push back Radahn's main force as it advances on Stormveil."

"Indeed. If Radahn makes it to Stormveil, its fall will be certain, and the war's outcome will be decided," said Kenneth.

"That be true, but fighting him toe to toe as you have is only delaying the inevitable in that regard. If you wish to see a victory over Radahn, I would suggest you draw every force you can and make your push instead at Saints Bridge," said Iji.

Godwyn scoffed, "What kind of victory is that?"

"It is fairly weak, but the General cannot afford to lose," said Iji.

"And lose my castle!"

"If we were to take that, we could have the space to maneuver soldiers to attack Radahn's flank," said Blaidd.

"More so, he cannot spare to direct soldiers from the siege to defend it either," said Iji.

"I can't imagine taking it would be easy," said Kenneth.

"Of course not. And you have only a small window to do it," said Iji.

"Please, Godwyn. We have to try something. Your men deserve a small victory," said Blaidd.

Already, Radahn had better-trained soldiers and all the forward momentum in this war. A loss was inevitable. So, while Godwyn had doubts that this plan might work, he was desperate enough to do anything, no matter how far-fetched it might seem.

So, Godwyn called every soldier in his army together.

They all came with their battered armor and worn-out faces. Each day they were sent to battle was a day they faced defeat. The moral was all but spent. They could barely look their demigod master in the eye when Godwyn addressed them.

"I understand that I have asked already much from you. Every moment, nothing seems to have been gained in such a conflict. Today, I only ask for one more thing from all of you. If it fails, I do not blame any of you for going your way after this. But give me this last moment and the chance at victory and to prove the birthright of the Golden Lineage," said Godwyn.

And so Godwyn's men marched on toward the Saint's Bridge. Blaidd began to prepare himself, anticipating that he would join the battle later.

"I hope you're right, Old Friend," said Blaidd.

When Fortissax tried to lift his head, he found himself tied down with strong cords. He shrieked and pulled against them to no avail.

"Well, well, well. Alas, the legendary Fortissax awakens," says Radahn as the dragon opens its eyes.

He gave out a roar as he struggled against the cords.

"More than just ropes hold you down," said Radahn, implying the use of his magic to ensure that there was no escape.

"Godwyn will not negotiate for my release, General," said Fortissax.

"I don't care if he does or doesn't," snarled Radahn. "You were the last thing that stood between me and Stormveil. Without you, Godwyn stands no chance."

"He never stood a chance against you, General. He fights only because you compel him so," responded Fortissax.

"For what he did to my sister, yes. I will fight him. I will see that he finally faces consequences for what he did."

"I do not understand your ways, but I do understand what it is to have a sister. And I would like to ask you one question about my curiosity. Have you thought of asking Ranni how she feels about the matter?"

Radahn was offended by the question. Of course, he knew how Ranni felt about the situation. He saw her despair in the Carian Manor. The fact she was so young and not ready for the burden of motherhood. He was more than aware of Godwyn's immaturity.

"I understand. But what do you expect Godwyn to do? If I am to be so bold, in general, it seems that Ranni wants her fiancee to return so he can be a father to their children."

"General!" said Ogha as he rode up on his horse.

"What?" said a frustrated Radahn.

"Godwyn had mustered his forces. He's made a full attack on the Saint's Bridge," said Ogha.

Radahn faced Fortissax and said, "I will deal with you later."

Godwyn's forces clashed down on the Saint's Bridge like a tempest from the sea. There was no time for the Redmanes to prepare a defense as Godwyn's men formed their shield wall and pushed forward. Arrows clanked off their tower shields made from wood and coated with a steel plate. His crossbowmen aimed from the high cliff and shot down at the soldiers. Despite their exhaustion, Godwyn's soldiers showed their tenacity and might.

With all the equipment going toward the siege and the lack of organization, having not expected such an attack from Godwyn, the Redmanes pulled back quickly.

The Redmanes fell back out of the range of the crossbows to regroup on the other side of the bridge. Wounded and exhausted, Godwyn's phalanx pushed on. They held their lines, refusing to break the impact of the Redmane's mighty bows.

Jerren knew this was a lost cause to continue to defend. To Radahn's credit, he had expected his march on Stormveil and its fall to be swift; thus, this conflict was decided before it came to this. But the General never anticipated that Godwyn might make such a foolhearted move as gambling his forces on one simple, little bridge.

While taking the bridge and Summon Water Village would not be decisive - as Radahn could always send reinforcements and take it back - it was the act of diverting soldiers that would drag the conflict on longer. With the support of Leyndell or Liurnia, Radahn could make a hasty attack on Stormveil in hopes of taking it before his supplies ran out.

This was not counting the fact that while Godwyn held the bridge, however briefly it might be, he could still inflict massive damage against their armies.

Jerren called the surrender with full awareness that he had doomed his army to a victory at a heavy cost.

When the Godwyn himself crossed a bridge littered with corpses of the fallen, Jerren waited for him on the other side.

"Well done, my boy. Well done," said Jerren.

Jerren knelt before Godwyn and offered his blade. Godwyn stared at it, and there was a hint in his expression that he wanted nothing more than to cut down the old strategist. He refrained and accepted the blade, which marked the surrender. He then ordered his men to capture the remaining Redmanes, but not treat them with disrespect.

That night, Godwyn honored Jerren by serving him a meal with his hand. It was a bit of an odd thing for a demigod to do, but Jerren accepted it nonetheless. Obeying Godwyn's orders, none of his men mistreated any of the Redmanes. There was laughter between the captives and their guards, which indicated to the old eccentric that this conflict was not personal to the men but between the demigods that led them.

"It pleases me that you are willing to be a courteous host. Honestly, we need all the men we can get. Radahn halted the stars, but his scourge of them is far from over," said Jerren.

"And why should I help Radahn with that when it crushes his sister's destiny and my opportunity for Lordship?" Godwyn asked.

Jerren laughed, "Is this the measure of your Lordship? It was you who attacked the church, after all. That is an act of war if I were ever to see one."

Godwyn slapped the bowl from Jerren's hand.

"What does your bastard general want with me?" said Godwyn.

"Justice and satisfaction."

"He wants that, then take his grievances before the Elden Lord, like everyone else," said Godwyn.

"And see your mother, the Queen, excuse your actions or lay little consequence for them? The way the general sees you is nothing short of a spoiled brat who achieved nothing on his own. Tell me, how long has it been since you saw your fiancee and lent her any support? Or have you all but lost interest in the poor girl once she was effectively stripped of her power?"

Godwyn grabbed Jerren by the neck and lifted him, "Where's Malenia?"

The entire camp went quiet as all eyes turned towards the two.

"I surrendered to you, Prince Godwyn, but I'm not going to reveal the location of Radahn's greatest asset in this conflict."

"And I'm not going to ask you again, Little Man. Where's Malenia?"

Back at the church, Finlay and Malenia giggled as they chased Lanssaex in her dragon form around the church grounds. Anytime the girls got near, the dragon hopped away and waited with her head lowered, like mother dragons often did when playing with their brood. If they slowed down, Lansseax would nudge them with her nose and hop sideways, which caused more giggles and incentive to try and catch "the silly dragon."

Malenia suddenly stopped and sat down on the grass. Her face was pale, and she was sweating and shaking. Lansseax approached her and sniffed to see that it was the stench of scarlet rot.

Lansseax lifted her head when she sensed something. The dragon gave a slight growl before nuzzling the two girls beside her body and covering them with one of her wings for protection. She continued to growl and dug her claws into the ground as a warning.

Tiche hid behind the trees with her heart pounding and praying that Lansseax didn't decide to electrocute the entire place. Her idea to snatch Malenia from the Dragon Commune wasn't turning out to be one of her best plans. The dragon's senses were keen; perhaps that's why she chose to stay in her dragon form while playing with the young girls.

Lansseax began to approach the tree and move her head around it, intending to bite whatever it was that dared enter her territory.

Nothing.

Tiche was well aware that Lansseax was a creature driven by her instincts. She would choose to stay close to her young - human, demigod, or otherwise - over chasing down any potential prey. When Lansseax was sure the threat had departed, she returned to Malenia and laid her head down next to the girl to try to comfort her.

Away from the threat, Tiche sat down on the grass next to a rock, removed her helmet, and rested her head against the stone to rest. She hadn't slept or eaten since receiving her command from Godwyn. And while her training taught her to ignore these discomforts, doing so wasn't without a price. She felt weak and exhausted, being in no condition to even devise a plan, much less pull it off.

"And so you decide to sleep. Of course!"

The reached to grab her dagger, only to discover that someone had taken it while she let her guard down for a moment.

"Mother," sighed Tiche.

Alecto appeared, looking none too pleased at her daughter.

"So, you decide to join Godwyn in this battle," said Alecto. "Interesting way to earn his trust, I must say."

"How else do you want me to do it?" Tiche asked. Alecto slapped her so hard that it sent Tiche staggering.

"You will not challenge the dragon, do you understand? I do not care what cause you think it will advance," said Alecto.

"Why can't you just make peace with this world?" Tiche asked.

"My girl, it's not about making peace but having purpose. And Marika formed our order with a great purpose indeed," said Alecto.

Chapter Text

With Saints Bridge in his possession, Godwyn began the next part of his counter-offensive. It was nothing terribly sophisticated or even honorable. Iji seemed not to care about wasting precious energy on adhering to any of these abstract concepts, only on the outcome.

It soon became apparent why Marika did not wish for the trolls to roam free among her lands in their failure to subject themselves to the rules of the Golden Order. There were no rules, only outcomes, which led to the betrayal of the giants. And once a traitor, always a traitor.

Godwyn had to admit that the old troll's tactics were effective beyond his wildest imagination. Everything from the guerrilla tactics focused on sabotaging equipment to poisoning food to burning fields Radahn had taken over to feed his soldiers was fair game. Along the roads, Godwyn had his men pull off road tiles and dig out trenches so the wheels of Radahn's siege equipment would fall. They took hours to dislodge, leaving the men Radahn used to transport them vulnerable to attack and the General diverting more soldiers to retrieve them.

This was provided that Godwyn had yet to set them on fire first.

While nothing was decisive, it was enough to vex the Redmanes. Even when they retook the Saints Bridge within days, it hardly mattered, as by that time, Godwyn's men spread out in various cells within the eastern part of Limgrave and the western borders of Caelid. They hid in multiple villages, caves, and catacombs and made good use of the Gael Tunnels to navigate the border without notice. The ability to find and weed them out was far more than what Radahn could manage long-term, so he had to push forward with his plan to invade Stormveil, with or without the equipment to mitigate his losses.

Tiche watched all this, even as her mother warned her to stay out of the conflict.

As three score weeks passed, she couldn't take it any longer and took her knife before heading toward Radahn's camp. Given how often they were targeted, more guards were around the siege equipment. But they were also constantly distracted, trying to maneuver around another of Godwyn's traps. They tried to put boards over the trench and precariously align the wheels to cross it.

It only took Tiche dealing with the spotter and moving one board a mere six inches to the right. As the front wheel inched its way forward, it slipped off the ill-placed log and landed right into the ditch.

"In Marika's name, why had ye not warned us it was about to fall in," shouted one of the Redmanes.

Tiche laughed as they moved to the front and found their hog-tied friend thrashing in the weeds. It might have been easier to kill him, but not knowing which one of those rascals was the father to that little orphaned girl, she hadn't the heart to deprive the sweet child of such a figure.

Radahn was livid when he spotted his men shouting at each other over the carriage and ordered them at once to get their acts together to dislodge it and then report back to their sergeants for a sound disciplining.

His casual mention of the Elden Lord arriving caught Tiche's attention, and she knew she had to stay.

She found a place outside Radahn’s tent where she might huddle down and listen. It was hours before the carriage arrived, but Tiche had techniques of meditation that kept her from losing any focus. She would watch out over the camp, stare at it, and memorize every little detail. She would even get as observant as the position of rust spots or patches of dirt on their boots, which she used to identify and count the number of soldiers. She would retain and make mental notes of each little speck of information until she might recall it to perfection.

And she did not quit such a game even when the carriage from Leyndell rolled up to the camp.

Radahn came to greet his father as Radagon stepped out from the carriage. Tiche was impressed with the Elden Lord's physique. He was muscular with long, braided red hair. Rumors stated that he was cursed with that tint after his battle with the giants, and he hated it, but Tiche thought it was rather impressive. It made Radagon hard to miss.

"Father," said Radahn with a bow.

Behind Radagon stepped his middle child, Praetor Rykard. A bit unusual of a guest, but this what would an Elden Lord need of a Golden Order Praetor other than to show that this was an affair to be settled as a family matter instead of a wider, political one?

“We have come on the request of Queen Marika and by the designs of the Greater Will. But mostly as your father and brother,” said Radagon.

“Huh,” scoffed Rykard, who then crossed his arms.

“The Queen sat out of this conflict right from the beginning. Why would she care now?” Radahn asked.

“The Queen afforded yourself and Godwyn the gift of time to settle this matter between you. She trusted you to take Malenia at your will to make your point. But it's obvious both you and Godwyn chose to squander that opportunity,” said Radagon.

“I do this for Ranni,” said Radahn.

“Funny you would say that now after you effectively ruined her life and made her entire title of Empyrean meaningless,” said Rykard.

“Quiet snake,” snarled Radahn. “I still love my sister. I will always love my sister. But when Godwyn had his pet dragon burn down that church…”

“Marika cares nothing for symbols and idols of worship when their meaning is long forgotten,” said Radagon.

To this, Radahn had no retort.

“Tell me, what would Godwyn have to do to satisfy you? He was already prepared to marry Ranni. Where would be further harm, then? And as for your slander to the Queen’s son, there has been no accusation from your sister…”

“Because she’s scared!” snapped Rykard. “How does anyone, much less a Carian, accuse the Queen’s son?”

“That’s enough, Rykard. Ranni already disclosed everything in private,” said Radagon.

“Not that you would be interested in the truth if it means losing your position."

“Whether Ranni was taken advantage of or not, she has made it clear in her own way that she wishes things to work between herself and Godwyn. I can say this with confidence. They will be married, so I expect no more meddling from either of you. Whatever you two hoped to gain by continuing to stall and delay their wedding is now void. Is that understood?”

“And if I don’t agree?” growled Radahn.

“Then you will witness Queen Marika’s way of resolving conflicts,” said Radagon. “Now that I have spoken and made myself clear, I fetch my daughter and finally bring her home. Miquella has been waiting long enough for her."

"Father, wait," said Radahn. "How is Malenia?"

"It's never to worry about her. It's your dear brother Miquella whom you should worry about," said Radagon.

"How can you say that?" growled Radahn.

"I know you and the others have come to love Malenia, but she is the mere dross that rises as gold is melted that it may be poured as a pure substance into its mold," said Radagon as he stepped in the carriage.

When the carriage rolled away, Rykard punched Radahn in the arm.

"I told you not to do anything foolish," scolded Rykard.

"Come off it. We both saw Ranni. We know she had no choice," said Radahn.

"You're not the one to talk. After all you've done, Ranni has not forgiven you," said Rykard.

"I was following Queen Marika's orders," said Radahn.

"Queen Marika's orders? She avoids any official audience to make promises to us so she can break them. At some point, you'll have to choose your loyalties Radahn."

"If you insist I do, let me say this, brother: The Carians were never rulers. And they never will be. Father abandoned his seat as consort, and mother is not well enough to hold it. None of us are trusted. There is nothing that we can do!"

"Bah! Of course. As always, you want everything to stay the same! So, you can keep your silly position as general."

"You keep saying I must choose between my sister and my position. I don't see why I can't have both."

"Then stop this silly war and let me find our justice my way," said Rykard.

"Fine," said Radahn.

He approached Fortissax, who was still tied to the ground. The dragon growled at him until Radahn cut the cords.

"Go! You're free. Tell Godwyn we settle this in Leyndell before the Queen," said Radahn.

Fortissax roared at Radahn, and the general could not blame him after his treatment. But then, Fortissax spread his wings and lifted himself to the air.

Lansseax and Kristof f both waited outside the Dragon Communion church in Caelid for the arrival of Elden Lord Radagon. It was, of course, the agreement that Lansseax take Malenia and keep her in Caelid so as not to disrupt Radahn until her father might come and fetch her.

In her human form, Lansseax bowed to Radagon as he stepped out of his carriage and directed him inside, where she made a spot for Malenia to rest. She was curled up with Finlay next to the stone remains of one of the fallen ancient dragons as this was as much a mosuleum to Lansseax's kind as it was a place of communion and worship.

Finlay woke first upon hearing footsteps and smiled, thinking it was the "kind dragon lady" coming to play with them again. When she saw it was the Elden Lord, she shook Malenia awake.

"Papa?" said Malenia. She lifted her arm as Radagon knelt to pick her up. She wrapped it around his neck as he carefully lifted her to avoid her sores.

"Finlay, child. Come with me," said Lansseax, holding out her hand. She guided Finlay out of the chapel to let Radagon alone with his daughter.

Radagon sat down on one of the pews with a sigh and rocked back and forth as Malenia clung to him. He chuckled a bit, "Are you crying?"

Malenia nodded.

"Why are you crying?"

"I don't feel well. I miss Miquella and I want to go home now," said Malenia.

"Of course, dearest. Your brother has sorely missed you too. He made a gift for you," said Radagon.

Radagon called for Kristoff to bring in the chest from the carriage. However, when he set Malenia down to open it, the girl immediately climbed up on the pew and crawled back into Radagon's lap. She was shaking this time, not interested in the wooden prosthesis her brother had labored so hard to build for her.

This was her mother coddling her, of course. The guilt for her condition and the fact that she was Marika's first girl made her inclined to do so, even if Radagon disapproved and highly criticized it. But in that moment, Radagon could honestly say he understood.

As he held her, Radagon subconsciously started rocking her again, which led to a kiss on her head. He hated saying the dogma of the Golden Order even if it was true. It was expected of the Elden Lord only to speak the truth and a bias for the greater good of all. But as a man, father, and part of Queen Marika, he had to bear the pain of those truths.

Bringing her home was for someone other than Miquella. That wasn't good enough. It was for himself that he wanted her home and to live as comfortably as she could.

"Papa, can we bring Finlay with us?" Malenia asked.

"Her family would miss her too much," replied Radagon.

"She doesn't have a family. The soldiers in Radahn's army care for her," said Malenia.

Under other circumstances, Radagon may feel a tinge of mercy for the child. But the laws of Leyndell were clear, and the Greater Will denied entry to anyone who was not found worthy.

"Can't you ask the Greater Will to let her come with us? Please, papa?" Malenia begged.

"We'll let her come as far as the gate. And then Radahn will have to take her back home," said Radagon.

Malenia squealed in excitement before hugging Radagon tightly around the neck.

The Greater Will may accept that. They did need to bond Malenia with a shadow. Though hardly a beast man - it was good for Malenia to have another soul to keep her company. Miquella almost spent too much time with Malenia and needed to focus on his studies, and Ranni would soon have her children to mind.

Godwyn... Radagon feared his stepson might have now had a broken mind and will after what happened. This was, of course, Ranni's expression of her concerns. Their relationship was in desperate need of mending.

There was too much to do when returning to Leyndell.

An inquiry was to be conducted by the Queen, and mediation between Godwyn and Radahn to settle this once and for all. Radagon had no idea what such a thing entailed, but he did not care either. For all her faults, Marika was far better at handling such situations. And while this one got out of hand, it was far better than what would have happened if Marika chose to meddle. Her perchance would cause calamity if it would forward her ambitions.

He also had to arrange for the perfumers to check Malenia over to see if there were hidden issues with her rot. She seemed no worse for wear, causing Radagon to chuckle as she and Finlay giggled with anticipation at seeing the grand capital. Malenia couldn't stop telling Finlay about the trees, the buildings, and her brother Miquella.

As the day became night, the two girls fell asleep on the seat, and the carriage arrived at the outer gate of Leyndell. Radahn was already there to greet his father and with Ogha, who had arranged to bring Finlay back home.

"Hey, Little Girl," said Ogha as he picked Finlay up from the carriage. She rubbed her eyes but gave a smile nonetheless and hugged Ogha. "You're ready to come home, are you not?"

"Are you planning to return her to the Redmane Castle?" Radagon asked.

"She's sort of a moral boost for the men," shrugged Ogha, unsure what else to say or where this line of questioning was heading.

"She is granted passage into Leyndell to live at the palace," said Radagon. "Do not fret. She'll be well taken care of. Provided an education."

Ogha hesitated, "I-I dunno. She's been with us for so long..."

"I will give you time to think about it. But I have seen war myself and have two daughters of my own. I would not want either of them to experience it," said Radagon.

"Ogha... It's for the best," said Radahn.

"General, I don't mean to argue with diety... but the castle is the only home she's had. Can I not have at least some time to say goodbye?"

"You are ordered to take all the time you need with her. Return to Redmane Castle when you're ready. For now, I ask at least let the girl stay the night in the palace. Someone will bring her back to you tomorrow."

"Of course, General. Thank you."

Ogha promised Finlay that they would spend the whole day tomorrow together and talk a few things over, before he handed her off to Radagon and his family.

When Radagon finally opened the palace door, he found Miquella asleep on a pile of blankets near the door. When Radagon told him he was off to bring Malenia home, Miquella refused to leave the foyer, even as servants told him it would be long before his father could return. A month even! And Miquella did not care.

He got his entire study; it looked like all the books, papers, and pens to try and occupy himself throughout the long day.

Malenia weakened from the long trip, was asleep in Radagon's arms, so he laid her down next to her brother. Miquella tensed a bit and then, still half asleep, whispered, "Little Sister." He pulled her close and fell back asleep, snuggling up against her with a smile.

Radagon, too, smiled as he brushed the hair from Miquella's face and kissed both his children goodnight.

He then turned to Finlay, who leaned against the wall, unable to keep her eyes open any longer. She was both fascinated by the palace's golden walls but too exhausted to comprehend its splendor.

"You girl," said Radagon. "So long as you are here, you'll stay in Malenia's room with her. You'll want for nothing here. Do you understand?"

Finlay nodded but then gave a yawn, which she couldn't control. She was a typical country girl, unaware of what mannerisms she should display in the palace. Malenia would have to show her. While Radagon wasn't sure what Marika's intent was, but given all her other schemes, this one at least seemed harmless.

As Radagon took Finlay's hand to lead her back to where she would be staying for a time, he couldn't help but think that things had finally righted themselves.

It is seen in gold, being dissolved into water, let it stand a while, and the impure mainerals separate from the essence of gold. Excrements of metal are soon brought to that posture; for being brought to a glowing by a small heat, they cast such a malignant fume, which choke men immediately - Basil's Last Will and Testament.

Chapter Text

Mr. Margit smiled as he watched Miquella and Malenia, now united, playing with each other in this sanctuary of outcasts known as the Wild Garden. When he heard that Malenia had returned safe, Mr. Margit rejoiced. It was Marika who took a moment to tell him through the branches of the Erdtree, as she was aware of how fond he became of his little sister. Malenia was just like their mother in both looks and personality, but yet understanding of what it was to be an outcast. His heart was heavy in hearing that no one seemed to talk about her, even as her brother wept for her absence.

Upon her return home, Malenia made a point to see him as soon as possible to show him the arm Miquella had made for her. She asked Mr. Margit to help her put it on, which took the omen a while to figure out. But Malenia was patient and encouraged him to keep trying.

"Thank you, Mr. Margit," said Malenia. She showed her friend how it worked and that she was dressed so nice because her father summoned her to a "hearing" later that afternoon. It perked Mr. Margit's interest, and he pressed for details, but a young girl couldn't provide them. All the same, Mr Margit was nonetheless happy for the company.

Miquella, that golden-haired boy with a tender heart, soon came to join her. He first checked on the lilies he planted as a gift for Mr. Margit before snuggling under a blanket with his sister and a book. How elated Morgott was that his mother trusted him to allow the twins in his care. How wonderful it was that the twins, in turn, did not fear him. Malenia told Miquella all about her "adventure" with Radahn, the things he taught her, and the fun things they did. She showed him the old fang Finlay found. There were many stories about this Finlay character, who, according to Malenia, was visiting with one of the Redmane soldiers for the time being.

She meticulously detailed how to protect a castle, which had to make the old omen smile. To listen to them brought memories of when his father taught him the same.

"Morgott? Morgott, wake up."

Marika threw open the curtains, which stirred the young prince from his sleep. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and smiled up at his mother. Her long, braided blond hair cascaded past her hips, and her body was the perfect female form. It was a body that men would - indeed have - killed for, and Morgott secretly vowed to protect. For there was nothing the young omen youth could ever call beautiful in this world save it be his beautiful dryad mother. All living things were her children and treated as sacred within the crucible.

"Your father is expected today," said Marika.

"Today?" exclaimed Morgott. He leaped from his bed and grabbed his animal-skin cloak, which marked him as a divine being of the crucible.

Marika gave a weary smile, perhaps hoping that her son's excitement as he ran around his room and fretted about his appearance meant this might turn out well.

His father, Godfrey, was gone for more than a year by this point. He went out on a campaign to expand Marika's influence. Save the face of his mother, there was no one else in the world who brought more joy to the omen lad. It wasn't just the time that Godfrey made to spend with his sons but also the time when his mother was the happiest. Despite her godhood, Marika would giggle as a young child as Godfrey showed her love, and her patience with her two boys was multiplied.

When they arrived outside the grand doors of the Fortified Manor and the seat of Godfrey's power during his time as Elden Lord, Morgott was puzzled that his brother wasn't there. He looked back at his mother and asked, "Where's Mogh?"

Without looking at her son, Marika replied, "He's chosen not to come."

Morgott wrinkled his brow, "Why not?"

Marika's hands wrung together, and Morgott knew to stop asking questions lest he upset his mother and spoil the happy moment.

Morgott closed his eyes and recalled that pleasant time over a year ago when his father came home and the template of all his expectations: Godfrey came through the grand gates of Leyndell, parading along the main road in a thick of fanfare. Petals rained down from roofs as people cheered his return. He would lead his men: Vyke, the brilliant spearsman who sought to be a shadow, Vargram, the Errant Sorcerer Wilhelm, and other great heroes of his armies.

Godfrey would then enter the Fortified Manor and sit at the Round Table, where he and his comrades raised a glass to commemorate their victory and in memory of the fallen. Marika waited for him by his throne, and he soon came to claim both of them.

Soon, Godfrey dismissed his warriors, where he would finally have a moment alone with his family. They would come together in their chambers, with the boys seated on the floor and Godfrey by the fireplace. He embraced each of his sons, kissing their heads and blessing them with strength. Godfrey gifted each son a present from his travels and told stories of the campaigns and the fall of his enemies. The twins would sit at his feet, enamored with these tales, asking him questions and laughing at Godfrey's animated method of storytelling.

Morgott would catch a view of his mother as she sat next to Godfrey and smiled, amused by her husband imitating how a giant walked, or the beast men roared.

But when the hour grew late, Godfrey finished his stories and dismissed his sons, that he might turn his attention to his bride.

"How much I have longed to see thy face, my Queen, and hold thee in my arms again," said Godfrey.

She approached him with a seducing smile and took his hand. As she led him to their bed and had Godfrey lay down, Marika said. "Is this why thou hath sent them away? To say how fine I am to thee?"

Godfrey grinned and pulled Marika up on his lap to straddle him. She took his cheeks and pressed her lips against his. Godfrey's hands caressed his wife's back, up her shoulders, where he started to pull down the straps of Marika's dress.

"Yes! Allow thy goddess to sate thine appetite, my Lord," said Marika.

Morgott grinned and pulled the door close to protect his parents' privacy as they made love.

In the present, the scene was set to create the same perfect memory, even with Mohgwyn's absence. Though his brother's absence was unusual, Morgott wasn't about to let this slight difference ruin a repeat of this beautiful time. He focused on that gate, expecting any moment for it to burst open. But time passed, and this anticipated outcome seemed never to come. Several times, Morgott looked up at Marika, but she seemed just as confused as he was.

Soon, Siluria, one of Godfrey's crucible knights, whispered something in Marika's ear.

"Morgott, please come," said Marika as she held out her hand for him to take.

"But... what about father?" Morgott asked.

"Thine father is delayed," said Marika. "Come now."

"How long?" Morgott asked.

"A week, perhaps," said Marika.

"No! Not a week. You said today. I will wait for him," said Morgott.

"Morgott," sighed Marika, but he turned away to continue looking back at Leyndell's main gate.

Morgoth refused to go inside as the crowds dispersed at the news. Even at the announcement by the harolds and various servants resumed sweeping the Fortified Manor's stairs, Morgott stood at that spot alone. Time passed, and Marika asked Siluria to talk to him, but Morgott dismissed her before she even opened her mouth. He waited even as several more of Godfrey's knights reminded him that their Lord wouldn't arrive.

The sun began to set, and still, Morgott waited and waited. Tears came to his eyes, but he wiped them away, determined that this was a mistake. If he held onto his faith long enough, the circumstances might reverse.

Soon, Marika came, and she placed a hand on her son's shoulders, who was now ready to burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, Morgott. It is as I have said. Thine father is delayed. But he shall return after a week. Please come inside. It is far too cold for thee," said Marika.

Morgott's fists clenched.

"Will he just be delayed another week?"

"I do not know, Morgott. He is not coming now. That is all I can say."

"No," he told himself. He held it in as he let his mother put her arm around him to lead him back inside.

"It is the nature of war, my son. At times, things go as planned, but not always. By no fault of anyone, things can be held back," said Marika as she led her son to his room.

His breathing became heavy as his and eyes saw a mist of red, "Y-you promised!"

"Morgott, I have promised nothing," replied Marika.

"No! He was supposed to be home today! I want him home now!" cried Morgott.

"Enough of this," said Marika.

"No! Where is Father? Where is he? Where is he? How dare thou hast sent him away again," cried Morgott.

Marika's silence only made the youth more enraged. Morgott grabbed one of the chairs and threw it at his mother. She ducked, and it smashed against the wall behind her. He swung his tail and broke the mirror, tore his claws into the wall, and sunk his teeth into her arm when Marika tried to calm him down.

She lifted her other hand with his jaw still clinched on Marika's flesh. Morgott cried out as he was pulled and bound to the ground by the golden shine of his shackle. He snarled and fought against the force, digging his claws into the ground. He bit the floor and foamed at the mouth, thrashing against the spell that held him tight.

The red rage soon subsided, and all that remained were the frustrated cries. Morgott looked up and saw Marika sitting on the floor in the corner with her face in her hand, trying not to show her tears.

How dare he commit such a heresy! And it was all the worse when she released him from his shackles some hours later. He wrapped his arms around his mother's waist as he sobbed, but Marika rebuked him, which only made his sobs louder. She placed a hand on his head, but when he looked up at her eyes, they stared off into the distance and disconnected as her empathy wore thin.

She didn't talk to him until Godfrey came home some days later, and even then, it was only to say that his father had arrived and nothing more. Marika said nothing about him joining the fanfare, so Morgott assumed it was forbidden. He could not face his father now anyway. He accused his mother of lying to him. A goddess! He made his mother cry, which his father threatened that Morgott should never do lest he wish for a sound whipping.

He continued in the exile in his ruined room, even when he heard Godfrey's voice in the hall. He tore off his clothes and slept on the floor, unworthy of anything of comfort for his animal nature. When his father came to check on him, he saw what Morgott had done, but he didn't say anything at first. Instead, Godfrey looked so... ashamed.

"Son," began Godfrey.

"I'm nothing but an animal," cried Morgott.

Godfrey didn't disagree with this and left without saying anything else.

The sound of his parents arguing was what caused Morgott to gain the courage to leave his self-imposed prison. He slid out of bed and lit a candle, which revealed a room filled with broken furniture and clawmarks in the walls. Morgott shuttered at seeing it.

He glanced at the room where the Roundtable Was. Siluria and Ordovis stopped trying to one-upone-up each other with their stories and sat in awkward silence at the table. They pretended they didn't notice what was clearly not their business.

"Hewg?" said Morgott.

The old Mistborn blacksmith looked up from his anvil, which he had situated just outside Marika and Godfrey's bedroom.

"Ah, prince Morgott. What'd you need?" asked Hewg.

"Are my parents... still mad?" he asked.

"You go have a listen, boy. Do they sound mad?" Hewg said.

"Yes."

"Then they're mad. Simple as that," said Hewg, and he resumed his work.

Morgott sat outside the door, where he could now hear it all.

"Love? How can I love them, Godfrey? There is an animal rage in them that they cannot control," said Marika.

"They are still children. They will learn in time," said Godfrey.

"In time? Soon, the Age of Gold will come, and I will carry another of thine sons! How can I, in good conscience, deliver such to thee? If they are savage with me, what will they do to him?" Marika cried.

When Morgott peered through the door crack, he saw Marika sitting on the bed with her hands folded under her chin. She was always beautiful, and Morgott worshipped everything she was. But this perfection only made the marks where her two sons turned their anger toward her all the more apparent. It shamed him to see which ones were his.

Again, Morgott wasn't sure why he did that or what he was angry at. His father did come home, just as Marika had promised. It was a delay out of anyone's control. He didn't need to doubt her, lose his temper, or hurt her.

"Knowest thou what the Two-Fingers hath called them? They call them 'omens,' and Enia says they are proof that I hadn't succeeded in destroying the entirety of the crucible's influence," said Marika.

"They are our children. They are of the Golden Lineage that thou hath hoped to establish."

"Do not try to use my own words against me, Godfrey! I know what I declared! But every generation after them will be polluted with their savagery or blood sorely diluted. There is nothing within my power to purify their seed," said Marika.

"Do not say it," said Godfrey. "I beg of thee, my love, not to say it."

"And what would thou have me do? The new age comes. And it is my children who will define what it is. Shall I have it defined by such uncontrolled rage?"

"He's trying, Marika. The Greater Will knows Morgott is trying everything," said Godfrey. "Canst thou not extend your empathy for that effort?"

"It's not just Morgott! If it was just Morgott, I could love Morgott... I..." she hesitated. Morgott's ears perked at that phrase, thinking that she could love him. Her grace, her love, which he had longed for, he could have!

"There has been a complaint about Mogh," Marika continued. "He was playing with the younger children and he... harmed one."

"Harmed? It happens occasionally. It's how boys play. It's how our boys play."

"Not in that way," whispered Marika.

Morgott didn't understand what his mother meant, but the look in his father's eyes was one of deep sorrow. He had never seen that look before, and it terrified him.

Godfrey was at a loss for words and could only manage a stutter, "That animal."

Morgott's anger went from himself to his brother Moghwyn. Even if he wasn't sure what his mother meant by her words, he understood the pain on her face, and the rage consumed him. He always knew his brother was trouble. Any attempt to place rules against his animal behavior was always viewed as a challenge in the eyes of the troubled boy.

He found his brother sitting in the stables by the manor, stabbing an old pumpkin with a sharpened stick. His sneer as he did it showed that he had imagined something real. For a moment, Morgott wondered if it was him that his brother had dreamed of plunging that weapon into.

Morgott pushed his fear away and then approached his brother.

"What did you do?" he cried, kicking the pumpkin away.

Mohgwyn looked at those remains for a moment, surprised to see someone dared cross him. When he glared up at Morgott, his eyes were glazed over with an evil that sent shivers down Morgott's spine.

"Mama is upset. She says you hurt someone," said Morgott, his voice now shaking slightly.

"Mama needs to learn to mind her own business. I'm not a child," said Moghwyn.

"Who's to tell when you're always playing with them," scoffed Morgott.

"She's not my queen," mumbled Moghwyn.

"You're right. She's more important than that. She's your mother. She's our mother. She's the mother of everyone in the Lands-Between. So, what did you do?"

"He's lying!" cried Mohgwyn as he broke his stick over his knee. "That little crybaby is always lying and telling on people! And mother is just nothing more than a whore who sleeps around when father isn't there."

Again, Morgott felt that rage as he remembered his mother's words: if it was only Morgott, then she could love him. He jumped on his brother and began pounding him.

"You take that back you... you," shouted Morgott as each blow landed. Moghwyn only laughed, as the horns he refused to cut off were causing Morgott's strikes to only glance off him.

"Morgott!"

His mother had heard the commotion and soon pulled him off his brother.

"What draws thy anger so?" she exclaimed with her hands on his shoulders. Moghwyn continued to laugh and said to the range that Morgott was a little weakling and couldn't hurt him anyway.

Silence was the scariest thing of all. Sure, if Marika yelled at Morgott, he'd at least know she was angry. The same was true if she laughed or cried. But with silence, Marika hid all thoughts and emotions deep within herself. And it was in silence that the two of them sat on the stairs outside the fortified manor.

Again, that shame. No matter what Morgott did to please his mother, it fell short of her expectations. He couldn't think of what to do or how to do it right if he did.

"Mama," said Morgott. "Art thou angry with me?"

Marika sighed as she closed her eyes, "I am... tired, Morgott."

He bit his lip in fear to ask the next question, "Am I evil?"

Marika's face was shocked, hurt even, that he might suggest such a thing.

"Look at me, Morgott. I do not think such a thing, and I do not wish to hear thee say such things," she replied. "Thou art my heir and of the seed of my beloved Godfrey. Look Morgott. Look upon the golden buildings of this place. One day, this place will be thy throne. And all Leyndell will call thee its king. This, I swear to thee."

Morgott wrinkled his brow, "But dost thou love me?"

Marika couldn't answer.

These memories were painful. Most days, Morgott looked to box these memories away and never think of them again. Marika had offered him his freedom, albeit for what purpose Morgott was still uncertain. It wasn't charity—Marika wasn't one for charity—nor was it love, for she did not love him. But it was not a matter, for her words still clung to him that she one day could do so.

So, as he watched over his little siblings, smiling at their amusing games, he awaited the grand revelation of Marika's designs, where she would keep her promise to him. And he would not disappoint.

Mr. Margitt touched the bark of the Erdtree, "I love thee, Mother."

"And thou will always be my son, Morgott,” the tree replied.

"If any muddiness is felt, seen, and perceived in me,

I am not the way I should be;

For I should certainly be purified

As I was in the human body.

In young and old, man and woman,

In fishes, metals and all other things,

I can produce great wonders,

For I am the power, essence, nature and quality of all things. (Fabricious, 36)

Chapter Text

Radagon looked out through the night sky at the Erdtree. Even as far away as Leyndell it was, it always appeared close, looming over the entire Lands-Between.

He sighed as he considered her and how she might react to the recent turn of events. It was strange to refer to the queen as though she were another entity from him. They were one and the same, yet Radagon imagined, even wished, that he was someone else.

Parts of Radagon wanted to reveal this to everyone. He could have screamed it to the skies if he had to, but he refrained. The Golden Order couldn't afford its dogma to be undermined by something like the truth. If Radagon was to be a god, as his other half already was, it was for him to put the Golden Order above all things, including the truth.

Wrestling under the sheets pulled Radagon's attention away from the Erdtree and to the bed where the beautiful young queen slept.

Radagon never intended things to go as far as they did. Rennala called him to her chambers, as she often did without incident, so the two could discuss strategies to negotiate with that "semi-barbaric queen" Marika. Rennala wanted to understand this queen: this stranger from a land far away who proclaimed herself a goddess. Was it the truth or mere hubris? Was her nature always to destroy, or was there a seed of reason within her that they might touch?

Their frequent conversations turned from the official business of brokering peace to discussions of their personal lives. Before Radagon knew it, he had gone from giving Rennala his counsel to sharing her bed.

Radagon's hand still shook as he touched Rennala's pale skin and rubbed his hand across her thigh. She smiled, showing she was never really asleep, and said, "Thine lips can start right about there, my love."

"I'm afraid doing so is a sin," replied Radagon.

"Then sin again, my beloved," she said.

Those words were uncomfortable. Radagon had never abandoned his duty in favor of anything before. He always supposed that as long as he had both his faith and his god, he had enough and no right to ask for more. He was the other part of a God. And for all intended purposes, her chosen champion to tame the insufferable Liurnians. And yet, when faced with temptation, Radagon was helpless to resist.

Rennala rolled to her back, revealing her bare torso, as she placed her hand on Radagon's cheek.

"I understand risk, Radagon," said Rennala. I make commands to my own soldiers, and I expect nothing less than their full obedience. I hope they tremble as thou hast at the thought of betraying their queen."

"More than a queen. She is a goddess," said Radagon.

"Hush, now!" hissed Rennla. "In this chamber, there is only one who rules. One voice thou must heed here: Mine. Though I may not be a goddess, it is I who loves thee, Radagon. Now, come and embrace me."

With that, Radagon laid his nude body over her as he placed kisses against her cheek and neck.

Never in his eternal life would Radagon suspect the son conceived of that once forbidden union stand before him on trial. Less, he thought that his stepson, beloved by all who saw him, would compel the same treatment as traitors: To stand before the throne of Elden Lord and answer for their crimes.

As Radahn and Godwyn stood beside each other, they kept making disgusted glances at each other. These men hated each other, yet there was no reason they should. Radahn was an admirer of Godwyn's father. It was easy for Radagon to think they ought to embrace each other in friendship. Yet, here, they fought as though they could win the approval of a man who wasn't even there.

"Ye both ought to be ashamed of what ye have done," said Radagon. "It is by no means befitting of those who profess to call themselves the offspring of Queen Marika."

"Can I not speak, Father?" said Radahn.

"Do not call me 'Father' in these settings, Radahn. I am thy Lord, and I know well what the complaint is. Godwyn had bedded thy sister without the benefit of marriage. I am aware of this," said Radagon. He again thought of that night of copulation with Rennala and all the consequences it carried.

"Forced her is more like it," said Radahn, crossing his arms.

Godwyn rolled his eyes, "You're saying I forced a woman who could easily dissolve me at just a snap of her fingers."

"Mortals, not demigods," said Radahn.

"Did thou force my daughter?"

"You ask as though anyone cares to hear my side. Why don't you ask her? In fact, why isn't she here to speak for herself?" said Godwyn, forgetting the formal speech he was supposed to use during official proceedings.

"That matter is merely for context. The real crime here is the countless deaths that have been wroth upon the Lands-Between by thine actions," said Radagon.

Melania was in the crowd, watching as she sat next to Rykard. He had been appointed her and Miquella's guardian until this incident was resolved. She tugged on Rykard's sleeve to get his attention.

"Rykard, is Radahn in trouble?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so," replied Rykard. "And Godwyn, too."

"What for?"

"It's complicated, but Godwyn did something to Ranni, and it upset Radahn."

"Did he hurt her?"

"Well, it did make Radahn angry enough to kidnap you," said Rykard.

Malenia wrinkled a brow, "He didn't kidnap me. He didn't hurt me at all. I like Radahn."

"Well, that's good. If Father doesn't tear him a new one, the two of you are going to spend a lot more time together—when you're older, of course," said Rykard.

"I know about that. Jerren already told me," said Malenia.

As the argument grew more heated, Malenia turned her attention to the arm that Miquella had made for her. It was uncomfortable, as it pinched in some parts, so Miquella said he would make a better one in time. For now, she needed to practice moving it about. It was hard, even though she hadn't lost her arm that long ago, and Malenia didn't remember how to use her muscles.

Rykard smiled and pinched one of the fingers on the prosthesis, which gave Malenia something to focus on. Soon, she was able to curl that one finger up.

"There you go. Now try this one," said Rykard, taking her other finger. Again, after some effort, Malenia could move that finger as well, though she had forgotten how to move the first one just as quickly.

"Praetor Rykard," said Radagon. "I would that thou wouldn't interrupt these procedures."

"I beg thy pardon, Lord. But thou hast appointed me guardian to my sister, and I will be her support and voice in these proceedings."

"I ask thee to come to explain things and support her, not entertain her," said Radagon. "And certainly not be disruptive."

"How about we let Malenia speak, then? Since it's for her, we're all bickering," said Rykard. "Malenia? Remember what you told me about Big Brother Radahn?"

When Rykard looked back at his sister, she stared at her prosthesis. Rykard called her name again, and Malenia looked up with eyes that were dead to the world and oozing black blood trickled from her nose.

"Malenia?" said Rykard.

She soon collapsed, and Rykard was only just able to reach her before she hit her head on the floor. Radagon was off his throne and scooped his child up, calling her name, which caused Malenia to open her eyes.

"Papa... I don't feel good..." she whispered.

Radagon's search for Miquella took him all over the palace, the grounds, and even into the Wild Garden. Yet, he couldn't find the boy until he went out to the place referred to as St Trina's Hideaway.

Radagon recalled when Miquella first discovered it and declared it "the neatest place in all the Lands-Between." It wasn't long before he and Malenia claimed it for themselves as a secret sanctuary no one else was supposed to know about, though it was a very poorly kept secret. The other children had found it long ago and abandoned it as they grew older, so they were not opposed to allowing their younger siblings to pretend it was a new magical place all their own.

As Radagon walked through the trail leading into the hideaway, he heard Miquella laughing.

"That's it!" cried Miquella in excitement. "That was perfect."

Radagon found Miquella sitting on the grass with a slate in his lap and Finlay sitting cross-legged beside him with a scroll in hers.

"Okay, so let's go back to that story you wrote about the silly dragon. What happens next?"

Finlay licked her lips and began writing on the paper, carefully forming each letter to perfection but paused momentarily.

"Don't worry about it being spelled perfectly. We'll fix it later," said Miquella. "Ogha would be just happy that you wrote it for him."

"Miquella, what are you doing?" Radagon asked. "You're supposed to be at your lessons."

Miquella was startled as he thought his father was holding the audience for the remainder of the day.

"Mother said I could use time from my lessons to teach Finlay to read and write," said Miquella.

Radagon was puzzled.

"I-I thought she if she could read, then she could read to Malenia while I work on other things," Miquella continued. "And if she could write Ogha, it would help her."

"You know it's not possible for Finlay to learn," said Radagon.

The tutors made that determination after weeks of trying. Words on paper only confused Finlay, and even when she would seemingly get it, asking her a minute later drew up a blank. Then, after numerous scoldings for not paying attention and wasting time, Finlay would only grow frustrated, slump in her chair, and refuse to respond to anyone. Tutors described it as her "going somewhere else" with her thoughts. The other children began calling her names like "imbecile" and smelly bumpkin. They erupted in laughter when she tried to tell them that she knew General Radahn, had met Lord Radagon, and had seen Queen Marika in a desperate effort to impress.

How could such an insignificant, illiterate country bumpkin like her ever stand in the presence of a goddess? How could she ever know a hero as great as General Radahn? Why would the Elden Lord even notice her, much less say anything to her? When Finlay failed to explain any of this in a way that satisified young children, she was met with more hostility that led to more bullying.

It didn't help that Ogha had long returned to his duties, leaving Finlay feeling further abandoned. Even when he was there, being not allowed to enter the city meant he could do nothing for his foster daughter. Finlay was stressed to where she began to tear her hair out and it caused Malenia to worry a great deal. She begged Miquella to help the mortal she had come to love as he had helped her.

"Yes, she can! She's actually really smart, Father. She just...  doesn't learn like everyone else," said Miquella. "She sees things like they're pictures and connects them. She can't be with the other students when its loud. Things have to be quiet for her. Then she can focus and learn."

Radagon gave an approving nod, even a slight smile at his son's compassion for a young, troubled child. Despite Finlay's oddities, which ranged from blank looks like she didn't understand why people were telling her to do something, to chewing on things, Malenia loved her. And Radagon, despite his hard upper lip - and fear she might do something embarrassing if she was ever seen in public - refrained from calling Ogha to come and collect her. His own fatherly instincts wouldn't let him.

If Finlay had this much trouble adjusting to Leyndell and all its resources, she stood no chance of making any progress in a place like Redmane Castle.

"Please, come for a moment," said Radagon. He put his arm around Miquella to lead him away. Miquella told Finlay to keep trying to write and they'll make the corrections later. "It's about your sister."

"The Scarlet Rot again?" sighed Miquella.

Radagon nodded.

Where before, Miquella might have burst into sobs and insisted he see her at once; he did not want to make such a display in front of a mortal. Miquella had grown wise in his months-long separation from Malenia. It gave him time to realize that people, Tricia and even the Golden Order doctors, had tried and wanted to help her, but the task was monumental beyond what Miquella ever imagined.

Malenia wasn't the first child to succumb to Scarlet Rot's cruelty from birth. Most didn't survive past the first week of a miserable life. Based on what the Finger Reading Crone who nursed Malenia described, if not for her status as a demigod, she too might have perished. A poor, sickly child who wailed at even the slightest touch.

Yet, even with the impossibility of the task, Miquella drove on. If wisdom was infinite, then the answer was somewhere out there. Maybe somewhere beyond the Lands-Between.

"Papa," said Miquella. He hesitated. "Finlay said someone came to Redmane Castle and was able to help Malenia."

"Who?"

"I don't know. You have to ask Finlay," said Miquella.

Radagon looked back to the orphan, who only smiled.

Marika was, for once, in agreement with her other half when he brought the matter to her. For perhaps the first time, the two halves talked with one another like adults in a common goal to save their child they had both, shamefully, previously given up as lost when the Golden Order's physicians failed to provide any hope. All they could do, according to the fundamentalists, was make Malenia as comfortable as possible and wait for her inevitable end. But not to worry, of course. Her sacrifice would bring about a new age where Miquella, pure and radiant as he was, could reign as a god.

It wasn't as though Finlay's claim of a man who could cure the scarlet rot was unfounded either. Marika's trust that Radahn would see her no harm was not misplaced. When Malenia returned, it was with nothing but smiles and full of an energy that neither of her parents had seen before from the girl. But the Rot was a relentless entity that wouldn't surrender its chosen vassal so easily. Marika knew all too well that gods did not earn nor retain their position of deity by giving ground to others or a will to those they chose to abide within. What they had hoped was nothing but a mild infection, which Malenia was prone to get from time to time, was turning into a major infection that needed more aggressive intervention.

Tricia explained the matter in a letter per her usual method of communication. She believed the infection was in Malenia's left foot, but she couldn't be sure unless she cut into it, and she dared not do so without Marika's word. She assured the Queen that, like with her arm, Malenia wouldn't feel any pain during the procedure, but when she woke up, it wasn't likely to feel so pleasant.

As usual, Marika had little choice, but to allow the perfumers to do as they always had done: cut away the putrid flesh to save the rest.

Malenia clung around Marika's neck as her mother carried her to her room.

"I don't want to Mama," she sobbed.

"Hush now, child. I have summoned Radahn just as you asked. He'll be here shortly to sit with thee," replied Marika.

"I don't want Radahn."

It was a lie, of course, meant to stall as much as possible. As soon as Radahn arrived, she would ask for Godwyn. And when he came, she would ask for Rykard or Ranni or her father. Marika couldn't blame her, of course. When the Tricia looked her over and saw that her foot was now badly infected, it meant more treatments that were as painful and cruel as the ailment itself.

She rocked Malenia, humming gently to calm her.

There had been progress at least. Miquella's sleep spell meant Tricia could try more intrusive treatments that she could not morally do on a child, but it didn't make things easier.

Radahn finally came not a moment too soon, ducking down so he could fit through the door.

"Hello, little sister," he said in his jolly voice as he took Malenia from Marika's arms. "How are you doing today?"

"I don't feel well," said Malenia.

"Don't feel well? Well, we'll make sure you feel better soon," said Radahn, cradling her in the crook of his arm. He tickled her which caused Malenia to errupt in a little laughter. "I'll have you back with your mother in no time."

There was nothing for Marika to do but wait and trust Radahn had Malenia's best interest when it came to making often difficult decisions. Hours would go by before Radahn returned, rubbing the back of his head. It was first time he sat with her in years and his face said he wasn't prepared to deal with it.

"It went well. Malenia is asleep and won't wake up for another hour," said Radahn. "They uh... managed to keep the foot at a loss of a few toes."

Marika nodded and tried not to show her frustration. They were hopeful they may not have to take such drastic steps, but it was necessary.

"When Malenia was in your custody, how did you keep her well?" Marika asked.

Radahn hesitated.

"General, would you be so kind as to answer my question?" Marika asked.

"Forgive me, my queen, but the man who kept Malenia from falling into that state doesn't hold you in any high regard."

"There are few who do and even less who will," replied Marika. "That is the nature of rule. And one you'd best understand if you intend to use my daughter to stake a claim on Lordship."

"It's your son who can make that claim, last I checked."

"One kingdom is good. Perhaps three is better," replied Marika. "Now, who is the man?"

Medjai found his cave quite comfortable. Spacious, and no one bothered him there until the day the Redmane Knights came looking for him. Most important was the sound of running water which gave him such comfort. The rot could never enter a place like this so long as the water flowed so free.

To the Shadows with demigods and outer gods and all others who proclaimed themselves so and their ridiculous arrogance. To think they could just demand whatever it was they wished. Sure, the little girl was innocent, but there was a time she might grow to be just like her mother: and finding herself slave to her own whims.

"Ah yes, chicken and wild rice," said Medjai as he took a deep whiff of his stew. It was just like what his mother used to make.

Then came the sound of a rock falling from one of the ledges. Then, following, the sound of a spear's pommel as it touched the rocks.

"You have made a grave mistake in stepping in this place," he said. He reached under the pelt that made his bed and gripped the fine blade he hid under it.

"I would prefer we not end this with violence," said Kristoff.

"And why should I not end it with violence when you come here with weapons like you expect a fight," said Medjai.

"I come here on the order of Queen Marika. You are summoned to her courts."

"Tell the queen I am busy."

"Doing what?"

"Eating my soup, of course," said Medjai. "Did you want a bowl? It is good and hot and will fill your belly with such warmth that you will never want to be angry again."

"You come to the capital, and I'm sure Queen Marika will pay you for all the soup you can ask for."

"It won't be this soup. I imagine it too humble for an arrogant goddess," said Medjai. "Goddesses like to grow fat on things far more rich. Even if it leaves nothing for the rest of us at the table."

"Listen..."

The moment Kristoff stepped close, Medjai's blade was unsheathed and to his throat.

"I will come to the queen when I am finished," said Medjai. "Now, would you like to join me for some soup or not?"

No one had to tell Medjai what Marika wanted. He was more than aware that when he chose to help Marika's daughter, she would demand to know his secrets. It was stupid of him to believe Radahn would say nothing.

There was a time when she wasn't a goddess, and Medjai wasn't sure he liked her then, either. It was something about her tendency to take and never return, despite what she promised others.

So, when the carriage came to the gates of the palace, Medjai asked immediately to be taken to Malenia. He would not see the queen, as any conversation between them wouldn't be productive anyway.

"Finlay! You sweet little child," said Medjai as he picked up the giggling girl. "You have been taking good care of your mistress, hopefully."

"Hello," said Miquella.

"I sense you might be the twin brother," said Medjai, putting Finlay down. She took Medjai's hand and held it out to Miquella, which the boy took.

"Finlay told me all about you, Master Medjai. How you can help my sister seal away her rot."

"And why would an empyrean believe such a thing?"

"Because you did it before."

"Bah. The stories they tell children," said Medjai.

"The stories are about a blind warrior who dressed in blue and gave you a flowing sword. They said you could dance with the current of the water. Is that not you, Master Medjai?"

Medjai sighed, "And how is your sister?"

"Not well if I called you."

Malenia hadn't fully regained consciousness. She was surrounded by perfumers who kept an eye on her during those critical moments in her recovery. Even still in her semiconscious state and near blindness herself, Malenia recognized Medjai and gave a weak smile.

"Now, what did I tell you before you left Redmane Castle," mused Medjai.

"To keep moving," said Malenia.

"Yes, like the water. I understand that princesses are supposed to be still and have their hands always folded in front like this and always talk quietly. But you are not like those princesses. For now, you rest well. And when you are better, I will show you what true control is."

"Then oil and water with water shalt distill

And through her help receive moving," -The Three Works of Ripley

Chapter Text

I am not the way I should be;

For I should certainly be purified

As I was in the human body.

In young and old, man and woman,

In fishes, metals, and all other things,

I can produce great wonders,

For I am the power, essence, nature, and quality of all things. ( Fabricious, 36)

Godwyn stood at the doorway and looked over at Ranni's sleeping form. Despite his best efforts, Godwyn stank. He smelled of blood, decay, and death itself that he helped bring about. He must have taken a dozen baths and yet that stench continued to linger.

It was the decayed stink that his father had from so many years at war and it was this intoxicating scent that dulled away all Godwyn's feelings. Sure, Godwyn remembered the feelings of presense of Ranni alone made him feel. How weak he felt whenever she walked in the door. He remembered the excitement and joy when learning she was pregnant.

But these feelings were only memories now. As he looked over at her, he felt nothing but indifference.

Marika laid a gentle hand on Godwyn's shoulder, "It won't be much longer."

Godwyn didn't reply with much more than a grunt.

"Godwyn?"

"How can I be a father to something so innocent?" said Godwyn.

Marika laid her head on his shoulder, "Come, my son. She needs her rest. You and her can talk in the morning.

Out over the ramparts, Marika walked somewhat ahead of her son. She smiled as her hand glided along the stone of the wall. From there, one could see the expanse of Leyndell's borders, but it was too far to see the individual people who both occupied and helped build the city.

It was hard to tell if Marika was even aware of, much less cared about them. Godwyn was more than aware, thanks to Tiche, that Marika already knew and even allowed Radahn to take Malenia. Yet, she said nothing to Godwyn or the others. She could have done a number of things to intervene and stop this problem before it escalated, but she did not.

"When I first told you father I was with child, he became as elated as a little cub. He danced like I hadn't seen him ever do before," said Marika.

"What about Radagon? How did he react?" Godwyn asked.

Marika frowned, "There is an understanding between Radagon and myself. Our relationship is more contractual in nature. But he was happy, nonetheless."

"Right. Because you were brought together at the behest of the Greater Will. Tell me, Mother, have you ever done anything of your own will?"

"Godwyn, being the Queen of this land and goddess to this world does not grant me freedom. It is a sorrowful position where difficult decisions must be made. It is best you remember that if you desire to make your bid for the seat of Elden Lord and to divinity."

Godwyn rolled his eyes, "You talk as though you even consider me for the seat of Elden Lord. But everyone knows that you and Radagon have your minds already made up and set on Miquella. And you would make up whatever petty scheme you can to see it so. Take away Ranni's destiny? Sure. Let Malenia whither away in decay? Anything for the Greater Will. It's almost sickening, Mother."

"Stopping the stars was to prevent a greater threat against us, Godwyn. You know this."

"You didn't even try," scoffed Godwyn. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're trying to sabotage my chance of becoming Lord."

"So is that the sum of your love for Ranni? What she could give you in terms of power?"

Godwyn pushed Marika against the rampart and whispered in her ear, "I want everything that you gave to Father."

His hands squeezed Marika's forarms and brushed her cheek with his lips. His smell was that of Godfrey's, which Marika had previously found so intoxicating. For a moment, she closed her eyes as Godwyn kissed her shoulder.

"You are not worthy to sit on any throne, Godwyn," she muttered with a trembling voice.

"Then rebirth me as one who is," he replied.

Marika hesitated.

"What's the matter, Mother? Are there not those in other lands that are lesser than you who possess such power?"

"You do not know the magnitude of what is asked," said Marika.

"Lay with me and rebirth me. How is that difficult?"

"You will not be rebirthed as what you are..."

Godwyn pushed her away and yelled, "I don't want to be as I am! Don't you get it? If I'm not worthy to be Lord than make me worthy!"

"I cannot," said Marika.

Godwyn grabbed her wrist, "Then perhaps I ought to take it from you! Just like you let Radagon take your virtue."

Marika pulled her arm away, "What maddness has tainted you, Godwyn? I have already given you all that you desire. I have allowed you to lay with Ranni and bestowed upon you children for you to love. I have banished your father for whom you looked upon in only jealousy. What reason doth Godwyn have to not wish to be Godwyn?"

Godwyn stormed off.

He wasn't thinking or paying attention as he pushed past servants and even his own siblings. Miquella spotted him and called Godwyn's name, as he wished for his elder brother's company. Even Rykard asked his attention that they might discuss some sort of detail.

"I think you ought to stop a moment, Godwyn," said Rykard.

"Shut it, Snake," was all Godwyn said to the scheming stepbrother who had done nothing but try to ruin his life.

"This is about Malenia, Godwyn," said Rykard. "In that matter, at least, we can honestly say we're on the same side."

Godwyn grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall.

"I suppose it can wait," said Rykard.

Godwyn released Rykard and went to his room and to the washbasin beside his bed. Over and over, he splashed water on his face and rubbed the perfumed liquid over his arms and chest in hope to mask this terrible smell.

In a moment, he was back on the battlefield. There at the Saint's Bridge he ordered the charge. He went forward killing without thought. Foe after foe fell to the ground, both dead and maimed at his hand. Mortals who could not stand against a demigod. Their blood splashed over him until he felt that rage which his father had sought to suppress.

"Godwyn!"

Godwyn snapped out of his trance and saw Tiche standing behind him.

Godwyn scoffed, "What are you doing here?"

Tiche shrugged, "It's not difficult to get past your guards. Are you alright."

Godwyn grabbed the cloth and began wiping his face.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Have you even gone and seen your fiancee since we've returned?" said Tiche.

Godwyn hestitated as it sounded so stupid even in his mind. But he said so anyway, if only for some want for someone who was there to understand.

"I never fought Radahn directly in battle."

Tiche raised an eyebrow, "Did you want to fight Radahn?"

"I would have liked to. Man to man. Even if it meant my death, at the very least I would have some level of satisfaction out of this whole mess. As it stands, nothing has been resolved," said Godwyn.

"Your sister is home. Your friends are safe. Radahn is no longer threatening your lands," said Tiche. She hesitated for a moment and then said, "You're home again with the woman you love. That's what we fought for, is it not?"

"I suppose..."

"Not 'suppose.' That's what we fought for! And we won. Maybe that victory didn't come at the satisfaction of your ego, but it did come," said Tiche.

"You don't understand," said Godwyn as he threw the cloth at the wall. "Every day these Carians have been nothing but jealous. I've shown their sister nothing but respect, and follow all their rediculous rules. I even won her heart, Tiche! Only for them to do something like this? Well enough they don't like me, but now I have to concern myself about whether they're looking to conspire against me? How can I look at her again and not think about whether or not she had any part of it?"

"Ranni worked to upset their plans and bring about an end to it. No offense, but if Ranni had anything planned against you, she did a piss poor job executing it," said Tiche.

"I know, but..."

Tiche wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his shoulders.

"I know how the heart and the mind always conflict with each other," she whispered. "But she is the mother of your children. Let her actions speak louder than your anger. Let what she did drown out whatever words she might have ill-spoken."

When Godwyn faced her, he placed his hand on Tiche's cheek. She was beautiful. Godwyn didn't notice it before, as his eyes were only for Ranni. But things were different. His heart wasn't so wounded, begging for something to heal it.

"You're right," said Godwyn. "If not for her, I'd have lost to Radahn, as much as it pains me to say it. Thank you."

In the darkness, elsewhere in Leyndell, Marika's tears were uncontrollable as she rested her head on Enia's lap. It was like every foundation that held her up gave way and now there was an overwhelming sorrow that poured out of her. It was a display that would frighten any mortal and cause them to question the divinity of their goddess.

Thank goodness, it was only Enia.

"At what point can it be that I question all that is?" sobbed Marika.

"You know as well as I that such drastic measures are only requested by men who find themselves in a world that no longer has use for them," said Enia.

"And what can be done? I cannot banish my dear Godwyn as I have his father. Please! I beg the Greater Will to not place more sorrow upon me. I beg of the Greater Will to allow me to mend him."

"I am sorry, my dear little Marika. I only speak the words of the Fingers. And it knows that of all thine great talents, thou canst not mend. You have tested far too long the boundries of the Greater Will's patience. And the Greater Will has allowed it, but it will tolerate no more. These things will come at a cost. Listen to the Two-Fingers as they speak again.

"'Marika,' they say. 'We can no longer tolerate thine disobedience to the Greater Will. If thou will not prune back thine branches, then the Greater Will shall. And thou will see the seeds of thy loins fall to maddness and parish at the hand of each other. Even thou shalt parish.'"

"If you can so easily see a goddess parish, then let us see it so!"

"The Two-Fingers again speak, 'Do not pretend, Queen Marika, o' vassal of the Elden Ring, that we are not aware that such schemes have before crossed thine mind. They workings are no secret to us. The Greater Will knows of thine plot to have thine stepdaughter claim the Finger-Slaying blade. Yea, even the blade that thou hast helped seal away. And thou would have had her own shadow rent her from end to end that thou mayest claim it for thineself. Upon the bloodied, broken fingers, and with the Elden Ring in thine possession, thou intends to wage war against the Outer Gods and shift the balance of the cosmos. This will not do, Queen Marika.'"

Marika grew furious, and upon her feet, she shouted to the Fingers themselves, "If you do not have me destroy those who call themselves 'gods,' then suffer them no more to meddle in my realm! Tell that festering scorpion of plagued filled puss to trouble my daughter no more! Make it so that the moon and the stars hide forever their face and threaten me not with the abominations made from the spit of the void! Allow then my son, Miquella to grow to a man that he might show the world a thread of kindness. Tell Shabiri to no longer fill Godwyn's mind with abominable ambition that will lead him to nothing but suffering in a soulless death. Suffer me no more to bring forth children of diluted blood whom I cannot love, and then forcing me to banish their filth of the depths below."

"Marika, please. Do not speak so. You are a goddess, yes. But even with your great power, there are limits. You cannot contend with one who is greater yet," said Enia.

Marika grabbed her head and, in a sorrowful wail, "Can you not stop interfering with my life and the lives of my children!"

This entire time, Hewg, that humble blacksmith, had done his best to drown away the sorrow that echoed throughout the halls of the Roundtable Hold. He shed a tear at Marika's cries of dispare more than once.

"Oh Queen Marika. There ye go again with that temper of yours," he muttered as he shook his head. "Some things never change, do they? When I saw what ya have become with what I taught ya, I knew we lesser folks would come to either love or fear ya. How I wish ya didn't choose to make us fear ya."

Chapter Text

Radahn looked out over Leyndell and gave a heavy sigh. In a sense, he had realized things couldn't be worse. The lives lost in the senseless war with Godwyn. His men lost comrades. Ogha lost his foster child and surrendered to Marika and her Golden Order. That same Golden Order now considering his fate.

All to achieve nothing.

When his father joined him, Radahn pretended he did not see him. He continued to stare out into the abyss.

"The Golden Order has decided there shall be no punishment to you," said Radagon.

"Huh?" replied Radahn.

"Understand, this means there shall be no punishment for Godwyn either. This is done in good faith and by the Grace of the Greater Will. In the trust that you and Godwyn will settle your differences and not squander your chances this time," said Radagon.

"I don't see how I can," said Radahn.

"Then leave it alone!" said Radagon as he raised his voice in frustration. "This is your final chance, Radahn. Marika's patience for you has worn thin. And though all our beginnings and ends are made eternal through the Erdtree, your war is still a waste. Why can you never accept that things can and must change?"

"I lived in Sellia," said Radahn. "I've come to see the lives that normal people live. To end this for them? They would be the only ones who suffer."

"Is that why you chose Malenia instead of Miquella? Because you're that determined to see the world stay as it is, you will risk stagnation?" said Radagon.

"I have plans for her," said Radahn.

"What kind of plans could rot help you with? I think, my son, you ought to reconsider."

"I know what this world needs for it to grow again. You and Marika may be quick to crumble the Golden Order so you can repair all its flaws, but I am not! Your obsession with perfection will gain you nothing. How do you plan to achieve it without destroying the Elden Ring?"

Though Radagon stood stoic, deep within him, he was seething. And it wasn't anger at the fact that his son dare speak his mind—Radahn had always spoken his mind—but the anger came from the realization that Radahn very well might be right. Of the hopes they pinned on Miquella, none was more concerning than what it would take to ascend him to Godhood.

As divided as Radagon and Marika were, at the very least, they could agree on that.

"You and Marika might pretend you challenge one another's views, but in the end, you're both the same," muttered Radahn.

"The Elden Ring will not be destroyed. That I will assure you," said Radagon.

Chapter Text

Maliketh pushed open the door and crept toward the bed where Ranni slept. He lept up and loomed over the princess as he brought his frothing snout near her. His tongue slipped out between his pointed teeth as it licked her delicate red cheeks.

No, Maliketh.

Marika's voice was like a whisper but stern to where it caused Maliketh to stop with his skeletal blade in hand.

Ranni stirred, and the beast fled away into the night.

He found Marika before the Erdtree.

"Why doth thou prevent me from sating my hunger?" said Maliketh.

Marika stood with a dark cloak wrapped around her, showing she had stolen away into the night her guise as the Fair Lady, no doubt to see one of her forbidden children. Which one, Maliketh wasn't sure. Surely, not Messmer, for he is locked far away in the Realm of Shadows, to which Marika vowed never to embrace him again. It must be that omen son of hers, which she had brought out of his exile for purposes that the beast-man could not fathom. Maliketh asked, secretly, time and time again, why his half-sister seemed content in keeping alive children whom she bore no real love for instead of letting him destroy them as he had the children of her rival.

Perhaps it was different when it was one's own child.

"If it is the Greater Will's intent she sees destruction, then let it be by her own shadow's hand," said Marika.

"That fool?" scoffed Maliketh. "He is too much a man."

"I don't care for thy father's philosophies of the superiority of beast blood, Maliketh," said Marika. "I wish her not to be killed."

"Why? Could a mere man seal away death itself and destroy she who had come against thee?" boasted Maliketh.

"A superior being would not have seen defeat at the hands of my beloved Godfrey, who himself was but a man. I do not want the mother of my grandchildren killed," said Marika.

"Mortal grandchildren! How doth thou knowest that upon seeing their faces, thy stepdaughter would not have a renewed interest in defying thee?"

"Thy purpose is only to seal away and protect the Rune of Death and nothing more. I have no further need of thee more than that. All life, mortal or demigod, is mine and mine alone. Lay so much as a drop of saliva from thine sniveling snout, and I will see to it that thy will truly hunger with an unsated appetite," said Marika.

"Only the Greater Will may curse me, Marika."

Marika smirked, and then, with that final warning, she walked into her bedchamber to make her way to the Erdtree, no doubt. To again bargin and rationalize her sin to keep alive those who were considered profanities to the Greater Will.

In seeing her gone, Maliketh let out a growl.

Therefore if you work upon your bodies, take the most ravenous gray Wolf, which by reason of his Name is subject to valorous Mars... He is very hungry, cast him the King's body, that he may be nurished by it; and when he devoured the King. - The Last Will and Testament; Valentine Basil (177).

Ranni awoke with a start and looked over at Godwyn, snoring next to her. Sweat ran down her face, and her hand moved to her stomach. Miquella had been there as well, snuck in as he had always done to place a single lily by the bedside next to a drawing that Ranni had made when she was little. Ranni had to smile. Her little brother had to be the only one who would break into a place to show an act of kindness. No doubt convinced the chambermaids to allow him access, such the manipulator he was. If it wasn't for his purity, Miquella might have annoyed Ranni.

It was a crude drawing of her mother bringing her out into the woods, where Ranni beheld her Great Moon for the first time.

Ranni had no idea why she had kept this for so long. It was a fond memory indeed, and she had brought it out again when she began to doubt herself. At first, it seemed so simple to merely raise her daughters like her mother had raised her, but that seemed no longer possible with the stars still firmly halted in their place until her father decided to let them go—if he decided to let them go.

When Ranni went to lie down again, she again felt the sharp pains beginning again.

"Godwyn? Godwyn, I think... I think it's time," she gasped.

"Huh?" said Godwyn, lifting his head. He soon realized her meaning. "Then we ought to go to the Erdtree."

Marika had stated she wished the children born in the Erdtree. Ranni had different thoughts on the matter, but she could not argue with the queen.

"Come on," said Godwyn, helping her out of bed.

Part of Ranni still wished, hoped even, that Godwyn would say something to make her laugh like he used to. He wouldn't. That part of his personality died somewhere during the war with Radahn. All her efforts to save him, and who returned to her was far a different man then the one that left.

She mourned that man. His smile. His humor. The fact he was the best of the demigods. Now, he hardly even looked at her as he brought her to his mother.

As the time for Ranni to bring their children into the world drew near, she couldn't help but feel a void. Godwyn was there, fulfilling his role as a father, but the overwhelming joy that a father, even her own, would express in such a moment was absent. It was a bittersweet anticipation, tinged with the absence of Godwyn's former self.

Marika wasn't in her bedchambers, indicating she was somewhere within the Erdtree itself. It was no matter, for she could still hear and see all when she was within it. No doubt she waited for Ranni already.

"Is it too much to ask for Blaidd to come?," begged Ranni, not sure if Godwyn cared enough to understand how much her Shadow meant to her.

"Of course," replied Godwyn. He helped Ranni lay down in his mother's bed. "I'll fetch him. No doubt, Mother knows already, and she will be here soon."

Ranni felt the sting of fear as Godwyn left her, but as he said, Marika was within the Erdtree, commuting with the Greater Will. She would come soon.

It was hard. Ranni longed for her mother to be here at such a time, but things were as they were. Marika wasn't much of a substitute, but she did raise her, after all. And while she could never replace Rennala - no one could - Marika was more than good to her. The Queen never demanded Ranni love her. She never fainted affection either.

As she lay there, Ranni must have drifted off because she was still in a haze when she heard the growl of something and saw the glowing eyes of Marika's black blade.

"Maliketh? Where is thy sister? My stepmother, I beg of thee," said Ranni as she struggled to sit up.

Maliketh lunged at her and, with one thrust, plunged his knife into her abdomen.

Everything went dim as Ranni staggered to the throne room, disoriented and unsure which way to go. The only thing she could see was the glow of the Erdtree within her sight. Blood piddled against the ground as she felt Maliketh stalking behind her, gleeful to toy with his prey. Drop after drop of crimson plopped down, and soon, Ranni collapsed at the foot of the tree. She struggled to maintain consciousness, but her breaths soon grew labored as Marika began to descend the stairs.

Without saying a word, Marika scooped her up and carried Ranni inside.

Therefore it is requisite that you know, how to infuse your golden seed into the new body, and bring fluid substance. - Last Will and Testament; Valentine Basil.

"I warned you to have nothing to do with that woman."

"Oh, come off it, Renna. I didn't bring my sister's battered body back to you to be scolded."

"Huh. I will say one thing, and believe me, it is the only good thing: if not for that witch finding her when she did..."

"I don't want to hear about it," Rykard interrupted.

"R-Rykard..." gasped Ranni, but barely a sound came out. Rykard took her hand.

"Shhhh... Don't try to speak, Sister. One doesn't just get sucked up and spat out of the Erdtree like that," said Rykard.

"Where... where are my babies... Please, where are they?"

"It's okay, just lay down..."

"Where are they? Please... tell me," said Ranni.

She felt something warm laid down on her stomach and then another. Though her vision was not focused, she knew their warmth and placed an affectionate hand on each tiny body. They snuggled against her, each looking to find a breast.

Renna leaned over to whisper to Rykard, "We don't have such time..."

Rykard put his hand up, "Don't. Let her do whatever it is that mothers do.."

"Fine. I'll continue with the preparations."

"Yes, do something useful for a change. That is a splendid idea," said Rykard.

When Renna had left, Rykard sat down on the edge of the bed. With a smile, he pointed to one of the twins, "This one, Aurelia, came out first." He then pointed to the other, "And this one, Aureliette, I believe. Well, she's a bit too much like you already."

Ranni laughed before she placed a kiss on each of their golden heads. As the hours ticked by, they were the only things in Ranni's world. She doted on them, sang to them, and nursed them when they grew hungry. But soon, the memories returned, and Ranni began to show panic in her eyes.

"Maliketh...!"

"Sister, stop. You're safe. You hear me? They're safe. First, take a moment to see where you are. You recognize this place."

It was her old room in the manor. And within it were the memories of a childhood Ranni had left behind so long ago.

"Mother..."

"She... um met them. Unfortunately, her focus is elsewhere. I don't even know if she was aware of their presence," said Rykard.

Of course, the news was heartbreaking but not surprising. Iji kept Ranni informed as often as possible, but he could not promise her any comfort. Rennala's broken mind found solace in her own fantasy world, where everything was still in place from before Radagon left.

"Sister, I dread telling you, but our stepmother is not as in control of Maliketh as she had previously seemed. At least, that's what she claims. Still, if she would have seen to your assassination, I think she wouldn't have bothered to rescue you in the manner that she did," said Rykard.

"So it was Marika, then?"

"She can be surprisingly generous as she is ruthless. I will say that. But the truth is that your daughters are not safe here. Even Marika herself admitted that. Renna will..." Rykard hesitated. "Renna has a way into the Forbidden Lands. She says a village there still practices the old ways of observing the stars."

"No," said Ranni, holding her girls close.

"It's the only way. They will be safe there. Please, Ranni. You can't protect them. None of us can."

Though Ranni did not wish to let go, in her heart, she knew what Rykard said was true. They were not safe. Somehow, their birth offended the Greater Will so much that Maliketh was hungry to right the wrong. In the Forbidden Lands, there was no clear way for Maliketh to follow.

But this was more than just a theory. Ranni had never known Renna to be wrong. And so, she clung to her girls, her heart aching with the weight of the impending separation for as long as she was allowed.

For it might be the only time she could.

"Why?" she whispered as tears rolled down her face. "Why can't it just leave us be? Why can't all the gods just leave us be?"

"It doesn't work that way, Sister. But by the stars themselves, I wish it did."

Chapter Text

Her chamber doore was lock'd and bolted fast,

Admitting none to Vex her, first or last;

Marika was absorbed in the recess of her mind, all wrapped in visions. The lands burned in a great crimson flame, spewing a blackened plum of thick smoke. People screamed in the choking rage, "Marika! Marika! O' goddess! Forsake us not! Mother of all that is living, please let us live!"

In these visions, Marika could not tell; was she viewing the past? Or the future?

Marika opened her eyes and looked down at the tear soaked paper sitting on her lap. It was a plea of a daughter to her mother.

When Marika had learned of Ranni's decision, she understood both why and what pain her stepdaughter would feel. It was her fault, after all. She should have found a way to rid herself of Maliketh a long time ago.

"You spend an awful lot of time in this bedchamber. Is it on your back or on your knees?"

Marika wasn't surprised to see Alecto, perched up on the rings that held the canopy. She came once in awhile for her own amusement to remind Marika of her own sin. In time, Marika gave up trying to keep the assassin out.

"I suppose I'm to understand that my day of reckoning has come," said Marika, barely taking any interest in Alecto's presence.

"Well past it. Had it been my choice, I'd have seen it done centuries ago when you and your bastard set fire to the lands. But then someone removed the Rune of Death from the Elden Ring," said Alecto.

"What a pity," replied Marika

Alecto frowned, "You keep pretending you won't pay dearly for this."

"I've paid, Alecto. I continue to pay," sighed Marika.

"In what? The blood of your enemies? The place of your birth? The bastard you didn't want? How is it everytime you 'pay,' it's everyone who bares the price," said Alecto.

She jumped down next to Marika and whispered in the queen's ear, "Just how far up your ass does Metyr have her dirty little fingers? Is it at least as far as Radagon's dick?"

Marika gave Alecto a disgusted look. "Is there a purpose for you to be here, Alecto?"

"I have it on good authority that the heavens are starting to shift. So, I wonder, just what do you have planned this time?"

"I am not aware of such a thing and nor do I care."

"Come off it, Marika. You and that litter of degenerate, malformed things you call 'your children' are nothing more than tools. And now I wonder what that lump of apendeges is having you do this time."

"I hear the voice of the Greater Will and I abide. That is all," said Marika.

"You never heard the voice of the Greater Will. No one had since long before you showed up. That's why Metyr had you bury the Eternal City. She couldn't stand the thought that someone would look up into the stars far enough and see there was nothing looking back."

"I've heard what you have to say."

"And I still stand where I do before. You don't find it strange that the only way you 'hear it' is through those fingers conveniently only interpreted by Enia. Good to know you're still sucking her tits, by the way."

Marika remained calm at the sting of every insult. But since Marika dulled her blade, a sharp tongue was all that Alecto had left.

As much as the thought crossed Marika's mind from time to time, she could not just kill Alecto. Doing so would only mean another would come and take her place to exact justice against the gods. It was a role destined for someone to always play. The only strategy the goddess had was to place in the role the peculiar child she bore at the foot of the Erdtree when she removed the Rune of Death from the Elden Ring. Marika had stretched out her branches and roots far into the expanses as well as in the depths, and she could no longer find what was now a wandering spectre.

Not that it mattered. Marika doubted her child remembered the first thing about herself.

At least, in keeping Alecto alive, Marika would bare the tauntings at the hand of the creature she knew, instead of facing one she didn't.

"I know you know what I say is true," Alecto continued to whisper. "After all these centuries, you have to know. What are you planning, Marika? What have you been planning this entire time?"

The reactions to Marika's sudden and unexpected appearance in the fields of the Altus Plateau came with mixed emotions among the people. Many met the appearance of their goddess as a miracle and spent hours in the fields discussing the deeper meaning of her words. They praised her and spoke of her blessings from the Erdtree, the Greater Will, and the great conquest of those enemies of the Lands-Between. Their testimonials were rife with hymns of adoration for she who bestows her blessing upon all who have grace.

Others scoffed at any mention that anyone might discern any meaning or intent from such a brief sermon. After all, Marika made promises and often didn't keep them. And when she did, she always extracted a price.

Most had a more "no one can know but Marika herself" attitude and calmly went to work laying the foundation for her desired chapel.

Marika would come and perform this miracle, or she would not. While her failure to keep her word might disappoint some and cast doubt in her godhood, she was still a queen, and it was for them to follow her word.

Kristoff and his fellows came at the request of Golden Order officials to prevent any "whispers of heresy," though they didn't care about it. They'd rather stay out of the way, let the people work, and quell any tempers that happened to flair up and start trouble. For the most part, there seemed no issue. Workers bickered a bit among themselves, but what workers didn't? There were some heated debates. Mostly, they all seemed to remember they were neighbors and treated one another with respect.

Kristoff worried more about other followers of the Dragon Cult, who seemed to let their control go whenever they heard something about how Marika "tamed those filthy beasts." But what could they expect? The dragons were losers in a war, and it was only by Marika's grace that they weren't hunted down and killed. As Lansseax said, "There wasn't any use in denying what was and no gain in growing offended at those who speak it from their perspective."

"Gustav, you fool!"

The grating sound of a despicable man's voice was enough to wake Kristoff up from his daydream about the various incantations Lansseax had given him to ponder.

"What did I do?" begged the twelve-year-old child. The sniving white-haired old troll of a man held on to the boy's wrist to shake him.

"Stealing," he sneered.

"I was not!" Gustav replied.

Another shake and an object fell from Gustav's pocket.

"Ah ha!"

"That's... I..."

"Wait a minute," said Kristoff, holding out his hand. "What is this matter here?"

"You ought not to get yourself involved in my affairs, knight. Be off with you. I command it."

"Any accusation of theft comes under the concern of the state, and as Queen Marika's representative, I am granted full judicial authority in these sorts of things, Godrick!" said Kristoff.

Godrick huffed and folded his arms while Kristoff led young Gustav aside to question him.

"What is it you have, boy?" Kristoff asked.

"It's just a rock."

He held it out for the knight to examine. True, it wasn't anything spectacular, yet it glowed with a curious white hue and seemed to have a fragment of something carved into it.

"Where did you get this?" said Kristoff as he examined it.

"I didn't steal it!" shouted Gustav.

"Calm down, lad. I didn't say you did. But I do need to know where it came from."

Gustav looked around, nervous to say, but soon explained, "It fell from the sky. Please don't tell my uncle."

Godefroy was pacing back and forth, muttering about how he wanted to make Kristoff hang for his insolence. These threats didn't concern Kristoff. Godefroy and his twin brother, Godrick, always said such things. They fancied themselves nobility and belonging to the "Golden Lineage" but that was preposterous. The Golden Lineage required both Marika and Godfrey for parentage, and they had but one son between the two. Last Kristoff heard Godwyn's children floated in his fiancee's womb.

When he brought the boy back, Kristoff tossed the rock, which Godrick had only narrowly caught.

"You're accusing him of stealing a rock," said Kristoff.

"You think you can disrespect me and walk away?" said Godrick. "I am he who is heir to the seat at the head of the Golden Order. Marika will attest to this."

"I know Marika. A radiant, dignified woman who earned well her place as goddess. If you came from her, I question what part," said Kristoff.

Lansseax was disturbed but not surprised by Kristoff's discovery. The various reports from her agents throughout the Lands-Between confirmed what she already suspected. It begged the question of what to do. Since Placidusax retreated into the vortex beyond time to await the return of his god, there was no one to ensure that Farum Azula remained standing.

In an odd way, it was almost like Marika's revenge on the dragons for breaking her wall. One Lansseax would find it amusing if not for the fact that such personal grudges carried severe consequences. In her ascent to godhood, Marika had not learned that she was no longer permitted the childish whims and bursts of emotion she enjoyed in mortality. Marika so much as shrugs, and the entire Lands-Between breaks and shatters. Lord Placidusax warned her against the trappings of godhood -as he did many other things- and Marika refused to listen.

Only one other being in the Lands-Between as ancient as Lansseax that she trusted with her thoughts. And so, upon receiving confirmation from Kristoff, she set out to the Church of Vows.

Miriel, who had seen her coming from afar, made his way out to greet her just as Lansseax landed.

"Greetings, priestess Lansseax, daughter of Lord Placidusax," said Miriel.

"I apologize for such an unexpected intrusion, Old Friend," said the dragon. She changed into her human form, which Miriel always said he preferred.

"It is no worries at all. I had long expected you to come, and I hope we are not facing a dire crisis," said Miriel.

"So you are aware?"

"Of course. One doesn't see small, peculiar celestial stones falling from the sky every day. It can only mean one thing."

Hearing it from Miriel made the situation feel all the more real. But what to do about it? In the days before the Erdtree, the spiritual leaders were a considerable force to be reckoned with. They were the link between gods and Lords to the people and often placed a powerful check against those who claimed divinity.

But with Marika standing at the head of the Golden Order, the spiritual leaders became subject to her burning purges. Now, only Miriel and Lansseax remained in what was once a great council of apostles, priests, evangelists, bishops, and patriarchs. They could see reason and the unintended consequence of actions far better than those who stood aloof with their heads up in the stars, looking for beings within the cosmos to guide them.

"The one saving grace in this situation is that Radahn holds firmly the stars. That should hold back most threats in the absence of Farum Azula," said Miriel.

"That might prevent new threats from coming in, but it does nothing for those creatures like Astel who are already within the firmament and merely biding their time."

"And not considering the price either. I understand the hardships that come when ages eb and wane, but even as mighty as Radahn is, fate won't tolerate silence forever. Those costs accrue over time," said Miriel.

"I would suggest we attempt to talk reason to the Queen, but that would be a waste. Unlike Rennala, she doesn't respect our council."

"I have long since given up attempting to fully understand Marika's mind and actions, much less work out how to reason with them. But even I cannot help but wonder if Farum Azula's purpose was as much about keeping things in as combating threats without."

"What do you mean?"

"All mere speculation on my part, but after the fiasco between Radahn and Godwyn, it seems Marika is reconsidering whether to offer her eldest son the throne. It would not surprise me if she had placed her entire wager now on her youngest, Miquella."

"Miquella is an Empyrean, if his own Two-Fingers are to be believed. I don't know if he knows that. And while he is kind, he is not a man trapped in a child's body. He is a child. He will always be a child and easily manipulated by the whims of these creatures."

"More concerning, Marika has done nothing to prune back the branches of her power and ambition, which is what one should expect of a ruler preparing to abacate her throne and allow a new age to begin."

"Do you think she knows? The truth behind the Two-Fingers?"

"Whether she knows or not, her intentions seem to ascend out to the heavens herself and become an Outer God."

"That is impossible. Even if Farum Azula crumbles to nothing, the Elden Ring shackles her here. Not to mention, her own shadow will rent her apart."

"And yet circumventing laws and order is exactly the scheme our goddess friend is known to do," said Miriel.

Lansseax shuddered at the thought of Marika unshackled and free to wander to and fro about the heavens. True, there were many advantages to such an action that served the interests of the Lands-Between well. She could ensure that the Outer Gods remain far away and no longer influence their will upon those who dwelled. However, Lansseax couldn't say she trusted Marika for such a task. Marika, despite her talent for great things, she often did the opposite, and the ancient dragon feared she'd give in to her lust for power and control.

"It makes me wish Melina was still about," mourned Lansseax.

Marika's daughter - and heir of Marika's former surname as "the Bestower" - was the only one of the goddess's brood that seemed to understand and respect the laws and order that governed the world—a quiet, enigmatic sort of girl who thought more than she spoke. Many wouldn't trust her as they felt her quiet nature meant she plotted something. Whatever Marika looked to prepare her for, it was not for her to say, though Lansseax long guessed it was to place a Lord upon the throne.

Her kindness won a friendship with the ancient dragon, but more importantly, she could often talk sense to her mother, which others dared not do.

Lansseax had tried, without success, to find what happened to her, but the Lands of Shadow, it seemed, were purged from existence. She was sure Melina's death, impart, led to that decision. What happened in that now forsaken place was a horror beyond what the old dragon had ever seen.

While Lansseax seldom agreed with Marika, she couldn't help but think that tearing that place from the map was for the best.

The only question that remained in Lansseax's mind was whose flame took her dear friend? Messmer's or the Frenzied?

"If she were here, we likely wouldn't be handling this mess. She would probably bestow her blessing and create one worthy to be Lord that the might be strong enough to challenge the demigods," said Lansseax.

"They might in turn, challenge you," said Miriel.

Lansseax nodded, "Yes. And I will fight them if they do. And if they destroy me, so be it. If they don't, they were not worthy of Melina's power anyway."

Miriel nodded in agreement. It was strange logic, but it was also strategic. The old tortoise imagined that when these Tarnished returned, no doubt at Marika's behest, there would be many trials that they must endure and just as many voices looking to lead them astray.

"But none of this answers what to do about the queen," Lansseax continued. She looked up at the statue of the Nox Priestess who bestowed the blessing of absolution on those seeking it. Yet another friend whom had provided Lansseax with the Larvel Tears the dragon used to change into a human form.

"Of all my reading in the ancient texts concerning the comings and goings of the ages. It is been my experience that no one, not even the gods themselves, cannot escape retribution forever."

Lansseax snorted, "That would be true, but Marika removed any possibility of retribution against her."

"I don't think it's that simple."

"No, it is, Dear Friend. The question is, who is going to pay the price this time?"

Chapter Text

Ranni felt numb. The only sign of emotion she gave was when one of her little ones whimpered in her arms, and she went to comfort her with a gentle kiss. The seconds felt long and short with the growing dread of what came next.

She had but only one eye now, with the other shut permanently. As Renna explained, once one sees death, that eye must be shut forever.

With a sigh, Renna said, "The preparations are complete."

At first, Ranni nodded, attempting to remain stoic, but tears welled up, and she could no longer hold herself.

"Oh, my dearest one," said Renna. She embraced her young protege letting Ranni weep in her arms.

"Please, don't take them. Please, I beg of thee," cried Ranni.

"I know. I know it hurts. They will be safe. That is what matters. Where they will be going will be a good place for them. They will know the stars as you know them," said Renna. "No shadow will find them there."

"I can't..."

"Ranni, my dear girl. Yes, you can. You must."

Can and must... It was with those words that Ranni let them go. She kissed the first's head, "Goodbye, Auriella." Then, the second, "...and Aureliette. My precious little ones. I love thee and shall always. But thou will find safety."

More tears as she cradled them before she looked at Renna and nodded. The witch and Blaidd then took them to where the carriage waited.

Ranni's arms still felt heavy with the memory of holding them.

The realization that they were no longer in her arms and the knowledge that she couldn't stay away from Leyndell forever put Ranni into a stupor. Rykard, who was usually quick to quip something to get everyone to laugh, sat in the carriage next to her, holding his sister's hand.

Leyndell looked cold and empty when they managed to reach it. She threw up several times on the journey as her body felt the gravity of her injuries and the heaviness of her heart.

People tried to pretend that they didn't notice as Ranni struggled out of the carriage, still sore from childbirth, while she tried to stand tall. Their efforts only made it apparent that they did. There was no way to remain discreet.

"Ranni?" said Radahn when he saw his sister. "What happened?"

"I'll explain later, Brother," said Rykard.

"No! You explain now," demanded Radahn.

"You go back to your little paradise of Caelid for causing most of this," said Rykard.

"Me? I didn't do anything!"

"Next time, you do things my way. That's all I'm going to say to you, Brother."

Out of the corner of his eye, Rykard saw the twins hiding behind the fountain. His harsh words must have startled the little ones, and he felt guilty as the two had done nothing. They were probably more excited about becoming an aunt and uncle than anyone else and were now confused about the situation. Rykard promised himself that once Ranni was settled, he'd make it up to the two and explain that he wasn't upset at them. Or even at Radahn.

It was hard to know who to be angry at. Not Marika who had been nothing but supportive and not the slightest hint she wanted anything more than to see her two grandchildren. Not Godwyn for he struggled with his suspicions and rightly so. Not even that mindless animal Maliketh, for all dogs bite, as is their nature.

Rykard helped Ranni into bed and asked if she needed anything to eat. Of course, she said no, despite having hardly anything at all. He asked if she wished to be alone, and Ranni clutched his hand.

Then came Godwyn's voice from behind the door, "Where are my children?"

The words echoed down the hall, making Rykard groan, "Oh, no."

Not now! Yes, Godwyn would know. Rykard intended to tell him, but not now.

Godwyn threw open the door, his arms crossed and his face red with fury. To be fair, his anger was justified. He had been pushed too far by the schemes of his step-siblings, and now, the faintest hope of love and happiness was ripped cruelly away from him.

"Before you say anything, let me explain..." began Rykard.

Godwyn's hands squeezed around Rykard's throat, and he slammed his stepbrother against the wall.

"Just how often we're going to find ourselves in this position?" coughed Rykard. There were a hundred ways Rykard could break Godwyn's hold and take him to the ground, but the rage in his stepbrother's grip was so justified that he dared not do anything to interrupt him.

"Shut your damn mouth, or I'll break your neck," said Godwyn.

"And you would be right to do it."

"Where are my children? Where are my children?" shouted Godwyn as he shook Rykard. He repeatedly slammed Rykard's head against the wall before he threw him to the ground.

He took Ranni by the shoulders, pulling her up to sit.

"Ranni? Please, Ranni. I beg of you. What happened? Tell me, please," said Godwyn. Tears streamed down his face. He kissed her forehead, "Please, tell me."

When Ranni wouldn't - or couldn't speak - his trembling arms failed to hold onto his patience.

"Tell me, you witch! What have you done!" he shouted as he shook Ranni.

"Godwyn," said Marika. "That's enough. Let this run its course."

"These are my children," said Godwyn.

"Then trust their mother," said Marika. She nodded towards the door. "Go now."

Godwyn saw Rykard behind the Queen with his head lowered like he wished to slink away as a coward.

Godwyn marched out the door with a huff, but not without giving a stern look to Rykard. Marika gazed back at him, giving him not one hint that she feared him. She didn't. Marika had no reason to fear anyone this far into the game.

"Go now," said Marika. "And trust my word that this will never happen again."

"Of course," Rykard sighed with relief.

When she was alone with Ranni, Marika still stood tall as she looked down on her broken, battered stepdaughter.

"I deeply apologize for what Maliketh did. I take full responsibility for his actions," said Marika. "And Godwyn... I will ensure that he never handles thee so harshly again."

Ranni's breathing grew deeper until she finally cried out, "Why can we not speak as women like we used to?"

Marika at last broke her eye contact. There was language between the two that was so carefully practiced and curated. They formed it when Ranni first menstruated and Marika could no longer deny how she felt about the children sired by her other half. At the time Marika had no idea such things meant anything to her stepdaughter. They were always such brief interactions meant to expel tension between them. But despite that, it was the one time where Ranni felt she could speak what it was she needed to say. In those times, she shouted at her stepmother, expressed her anger, her frustration, until those feelings were refined to respect.

The queen sat down next to Ranni as she hugged her pillow, shaking from her fear and anger. Marika laid a reassuring hand on Ranni. It was genuine. And her regal poise was now broken, her face showing a deep sadness.

"I understand what it is that you go through now, Ranni," said Marika. "And there are no words, not even from me, that I can say to make such choices easier."

"Thou art a goddess and yet speaks of limitations," said Ranni.

"There are laws that govern all things, Ranni."

"Now thou speaketh as my father."

"What it is you feel now, trust me when I say it is better than feeling nothing at all. Thou art a daughter to me Ranni. I know you do not think so, but to me it is true," said Marika. She reached to touch Ranni with the intent to pull her into an embrace, only to recoil the hand at the last moment and hope her stepdaughter didn't notice. "I will send thy father to thee."

Marika didn't send Radagon right away though she did understand how much Ranni needed it. She needed one of her limited moments on herself first. Allow him to come and it was nothing less of a fight to regain her prior control.

These constant distractions! Each moment Marika felt she was about to make way to free herself, there came yet another incident too severe for her to ignore. Oh, her dear, precious children! Why could they not halt their foolishness but for even a moment to allow her time to think and do what was needed? Did they not see that even in this Golden Age, work was still needed.

Now Marika was forced to spend one of those precious few moments in tears.

Her dear, sweet little ones. This moment where she hoped to spend holding them in her arms, and bestowing upon them the blessings they were entitled, was now spent mourning their loss. To be able to show them the love her own grandmother had at one time shown her.

One moment became two as the goddess watched again through the matrics their path into the Forbidden Lands. Guards did as they were told, and looked the other way as this suspicious carriage went along paths that Renna thought Marika was unaware of. Typical for that witch to underestimate others. Had she asked Marika for passage through the capital and up the lift of Rolds, Marika would have granted it without hesitation, despite their past disagreements. At least then Ranni would have a longer time—albeit only slightly—with her precious little ones.

Marika noted to herself that when Renna returned, to send Ranni to her. She could stay as long as she needed. Be near her mother and heal from this.

The leaves rustled and crunched, alerting Marika she was not alone.

"Take one more step Morgott, and I will assure thee sees protection no longer. I have given thee a place here to suit thee. Disrespect these not these boundaries, and thou will return again to the sewer below," warned Marika.

"I'm sorry, Mother," said Morgott, hugging the width of one of Erdtree like he was a young boy again.

Marika’s heart softened, just a smidgen, “What is it that thou wishes?"

"To see thee, Mother."

"Thou seest me. Now go."

"But..."

Marika put her head in her hands, "Please, Morgott. I will not ask thee again. I cannot protect thee here.”

She wasn’t sure why she was crying.

"Can I not just be with thee? Just a moment?" begged Morgott. His tone was the one he used when he saw his mother crying. A pleading desire to comfort her.

She knew the question on his mind. He asked it a thousand times before, "Mother why don't you love me?"

"I'm sorry. At this moment, I cannot bear to look at thee, Morgott," said Marika.

But she would never find it in her to pay any mind to Morgott. If it was not this issue with Ranni, then it would be something else. As queen, she could always find an excuse. And since there were not many moments left, Marika decided that perhaps there was not to be another chance.

As Morgott began to slink away, Marika realized her error and called him back. Perhaps it wasn't so bad to speak to someone, anyone, about the past. Radagon, didn't understand. And Godfrey was gone still across the fog. Her other children could not know. Even, so he grew upset when she tried to talk such things to him. These events had been on her mind for so long and now the weight of them burdened her to crippling dispare.

"Tell me Mother. I will listen."

Marika almost laid a hand on his head, but seeing his horns still there, she recoiled her arm scared from their wicked whips lined with decaying teeth. She couldn't stop staring at them even as her hand touched Morgott's long fur.

"I know thou wishes me to love thee, Morgott. And believe me, I wish I could. I wish I could cleanse thee of the filth of that thing and grant thee grace thou hast long deserved. But the things I saw back long ago, are the things that I now fear the most. Things I did, are now things I must bury. So understand Morgott, if I cannot acknowledge thee, it is not out of hate, but out of a dark memory in a time of suffering."

Morgott was quiet for awhile, then said, "I love thee mother."

Marika closed her eyes at the pain of those words, but then whispered out of the darkness of her agony, "And thou will always be my son, Morgott."

O' life of this, our Spring. why fades the lotus of the water?

Why fade these children of the spring? Born but to smile and fall. - William Blake

Chapter Text

There was a certain excitement as crowds gathered about the Caelid arena, which made Radahn smile. To ensure the event was memorable, Radahn contracted the finest company of warriors in the entire Lands-Between to come to Caelid and make the event free of charge for all its inhabitants. This was a rarity as the top-tier talent was only known to perform in Leyndell, and so the crowds gathered from all over. They packed the arena. Enthusiasts made bets as to which warrior might win the top game in what event. Chariots circled the outer part of the area to warm up their horses, and gladiators all mock-fought to get their muscles ready for their first bout. Some came to the crowds and shook the outreached hands of the spectators.

Not even Jarren could criticize Radahn for this. The difficulties they had recently with the war made them long for a break in the spirits, depressed by the disruption of life. The least he could do for them was offer a fair bit of entertainment.

"It's good to hear your stepmother allowed you to keep your position, General," said Jarren.

"It's at a cost," replied Radahn.

"Of course it is. But I think even she knows how well-loved you are. No one will ever forget how you're now holding the stars," said Jarren.

"The last thing we need is another crucible landing here," replied Radahn.

Trumpets sounded, and the warriors gathered together. They first bowed to Radahn, the host of the event. Then, they turned and bowed to the effigy of Queen Marika. They chanted their pledge of life and honor to the Eternal Goddess, the great bestower and bringer of this age.

"That's exactly my point. You have Marika by her tits," said Jarren.

"I don't plan to use this as blackmail," said Radahn. "Or take advantage of it. She has things she can take from me as well."

"Her daughter? Tell me, General. Why did you choose Malenia? The girl is sickly. If it weren't for her brother paining for her to stay with him, she'd have been disposed of long ago," said Jarren.

Radahn laughed.

"Are you going to tell me why her?"

"Well, at first, it was the prospect of children. Something a little hard to do with Miquella."

"You a father? Alright. Is that all?"

Radahn leaned forward as he watched the bout. Three warriors had one backed into a corner. The entirety of her team was wiped out.

"A bad spot," remarked Jarren. "Or maybe not. They can't surround her."

One struck, and the female warrior took a blow to his abdomen, drawing out the first blood. When he backed away, the second struck, which the woman rolled and again, a cut this time to his shoulder. The third, she did not wait for. Blow after blow, she swung, overwhelming her opponent until she landed the cut to his arm.

The crowds were on their feet, pounding the seats and screaming in wild joy over the brilliant match. They grew more excited as the warrior jogged around the perimeter, shaking hands with each of those along the front rows who reached out to greet her. Her comrades, both who fought with her and against her, soon surrounded her. They patted her shoulder and hugged her, and soon, she left the arena carried on their shoulders.

Impressive! If only Radahn had such a warrior in his ranks when he feuded against Godwyn. There was Ohga, but he was coming up in age. And he had his foster daughter to worry about.

"Jarren., have you arranged for Ogha to return to Leyndell?"

"No. Why?" said Jarren.

"Malenia wrote me. Her little friend is having a hard time. Seeing him will help her a bit," said Radahn.

"And bringing her back here will help the men," said Jarren.

"We've already been through this."

"The men need something to keep their spirits up and believe in fighting. Finlay gave them that."

"And I've given Finlay to the Twin Prodigies. Already Miquella taught her to read."

"What are you planning, General? Not only do you plan to marry Malenia when she's older, but you're investing everything into her. You brought her Medjai to mentor her."

The crowds burst out, cheering when the gladiators took the stage again. The woman, Freyja, drew the loudest cheers.

"Let that woman know I wish to see her," said Radahn. "Give her a proper congratulations."

Gladiators had their reputation, and this group was no exception. They were loud braggarts who drained Redmane's supply of mead while they boasted of their strength. There were rules that they could not drink more than their allotted rations unless it were for "ceremonial reasons," which the Gladiators soon found their way around. By the time Jarren arrived at where they stayed, the warriors of the arena were on their fourth toast, this time in honor of the victories of the Great Goddess Marika. They already toasted to her divinity, their host Radahn, and the whole of Caelid's people. They would have a fifth the moment they thought of something else they desired to toast to.

However, Radahn was more than willing to tolerate it as the boost they brought to Caelid's spirits was more than welcomed after those dark months. Since Radahn ordered all their weapons taken when they were outside the arena, their uncontrolled drinking never amounted to anything more severe than a bloodied nose.

They were startled and staggered to their feet the moment Jarren. came in, a few stumbling a bit to find their legs.

"General Radahn has requested to speak with Freyja," said Jarren.

Freyja, a robust, muscular woman, looked at her comrades before she set her mug down.

"Don't worry about being a bit drunk. The General is less about ceremony than he is about effectiveness," said Jarren.

Radahn was by the stables, spending time with his beloved horse. It was strange. Like seeing a little boy. Radahn was cross-legged, stroking his tiny pet's mane and whispering about what a good horse he was. Freyja had never seen such a scrawny steed in her life. One that should have been placed out to pasture long ago. Yet, rumor had it that Radahn bargained with Marika to extend her eternal life to the creature, even though she did not normally do so for animals.

The creature loved him in return. He laid his head on the General's hand before trotting away and shaking his mane in pure joy.

"General, this is Freyja of the games," said Jarren.

"That was quite the display you showed," said Radahn.

"Thank you, General."

"How long have you been training?"

"Almost my whole life. Since I could hold a blade, at least. I know nothing else."

Freyja's heart pounded at the sight of the great man who stopped the stars themselves.

"Have you considered anything else?" Radahn asked.

"I'm not sure your meaning, General. My place is to fight."

"You could have joined the ranks of Marika's soldiers. Or one of my other siblings."

"I suppose, but that would be nothing more than sitting around on ceremony. Maybe breaking a fight or two and hoping for war. And there are no more enemies to battle."

"There are always enemies. Always more conflict."

"Do you intend to join the Tarnished, then? Outside the Lands-Between, they host eternal war with those beyond the fog."

Radahn laughed. "Of course, I would welcome such a thing. However, there is no need to travel when there's much to do here. Do you know how to plant a field?"

"Not sure why I would need to know such a thing, General. The Erdtree provides all. And the Erdtree is infinite."

"One secret you learn when your stepmother is the Erdtree is that nothing is infinite. Not even her. Before the Erdtree provided everything, they used to plant the fields and yield a harvest. However, if you do that enough times, the soil wears itself out and will produce no more. So, one allows an Age of Fallow. That which had once grown is permitted to rot and begin to replenish the land. And from that, things can grow again," said Radahn.

"Ah, so that's why you need the girl prodigy," said Jarren.

"He speaks of my sister, Malenia. Recently, I've spent considerable time with her. She harbors a power within herself that can usher in this great Age of Fallow. Of course, such a thing will put her into conflict with her twin brother, who is one of boundless abundance," said Radahn.

"And that is where you need me?"

"My ranks were recently devastated in a war I waged against my stepbrother Godwyn. I need soldiers capable of battle. I'm sure my younger brother, Miquella, will be able to build his own armies. Woo, his own consort. He'll have to when I usher in this Fallow. I hoped it'd be the stepbrother I contended with who could battle me to a standstill. We must create a balanced and eternal struggle between the boy's abundance and the girl's rot. Those two forces acting opposed, and we could save the Lands-Between with a cycle of life and decay," said Radahn. "As it always should have been. And all other things can remain as before."

"A Lord of Fallow. Interesting," said Jarren.

"So what say you, Freyja? Willing to join me as a Redmane?"

Malenia gritted her teeth as the medicine burned into her flesh. She tried to stay calm, gripping the bed covers until she could bear it no more. She shrieked, to which Tricia replied, "I know, little one. I know it hurts. But you're doing so good."

"Papa," begged Malenia, reaching out her trembling arm for Radagon to pick her up.

Radagon was out of his chair and scooped Malenia up without even asking permission from the perfumer. He cradled her head and kissed her as he held her close. It was the first time he had any courage to come here and see what happened during Melania's treatments. The last time, he had to sit outside and listen to her in pain, sobbing like a weakling. He had to vow at that point to hide his feelings and stay the course prescribed by the Golden Order.

Thankfully, his children were always eager to take on the task. They sometimes begged him that Malenia wouldn't be alone. In time, he and Marika trusted them enough to make decisions on their sister's behalf.

Such a blessed man Radagon was! With his divorce from their mother, it would have been easy for the three to resent their half-siblings. Yet, they chose to adore and shower both with love and affection.

"We'll let her settle down," said Tricia as she went to wash off her tools. "There are far fewer sores needing such harsh treatment. Whatever this Master Medjai is doing, it is working better than what we could have expected."

"That's good to hear," sighed Radagon with relief. He advised one of the attending servants to fetch Medjai so that he might personally thank the old warrior. Sure, Medjai was not anxious to see Marika, much less accept her thanks, but perhaps he would see Radagon as someone different.

"I hear you wish to leave," said Radagon as he bounced Malenia on his knee. She wasn't in the mood and then told him to stop so she could play with his long red hair. He smiled as Malenia held up one of his braids and asked him why one was shorter than the other.

"Don't get me wrong, Lord. I did find my time serving here honorable. But I would be happy to leave it all if it means the little lady is no longer suffering," said Tricia.

"And where would you go if you could leave this place?" asked Radagon.

The question seemed to make Tricia uncomfortable. What was it to him? But she answered, "There are others, I think, that could use my services."

Radagon was suspicious, as there was no need for perfumers in a world where the Erdtree provided everything. Those that remained were nothing more than remnants of an era long past. Still, it was not for the Lord to pry. Tricia had earned the right to go wherever she pleased after this, and not for the Golden Order to concern itself with it.

"Okay, sweetie," said Tricia. "There are a few more spots we need to treat, and then we'll be done."

Malenia let out an angry huff. She tightened her grip around Radagon's neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Yes, of course, Papa's allowed to hold you, Sweetie," said Tricia, not taking offense to Malenia's rudeness.

"Does she often act like this towards you?" Radagon asked.

"I do not mind, Lord. These treatments are aggressive, so it's important to let her have her way whenever possible. And if she chooses to dislike me to a point she discards all manners, I am well with that," said Tricia as she carefully pulled Malenia's arm out of the sleeve to gain access to a sizable blackened sore on her shoulder blade. "This one is quite bad."

Malenia began to whimper as Tricia prepared her perfumes to begin cauterizing the sore that had formed on her shoulder blade.

"Could you use Miquella's sleep spell?" Radagon asked.

Tricia paused, "Well, we don't normally look to use those for such minor treatments."

"I don't wish to see her in pain," said Radagon.

"Of course, my Lord. I did not mean to argue," said Tricia.

"Papa," said Malenia.

"I'm here, my child," said Radagon.

"I don't want that spell," said Malenia.

"It's okay. It's Miquella's spell. He made it because he loves you and doesn't want you to hurt."

"No, papa," she cried, shaking her head. "No."

Medjai had come in around that time, led by one of the servants. He heard the conversation and raised an eyebrow, "Why do you not wish to sleep, Little Bird?"

Malenia buried her face in Radagon's shoulder.

"It's fine, Medjai."

"Fine? I had never heard of any sleep under the spells of Miquella not being pleasant," said Medjai. He then turned his attention back to Malenia. "Why are you afraid, Little Bird?"

"He said not to tell," sobbed Malenia.

"No. You can tell. Your Papa is right there, and he's one of the finest warriors in the Lands-Between," said Medjai.

"He hurts me," whispered Malenia. "The scorpion monster in my dreams. He hurts me and then says I can't tell anyone."

Radagon looked to Tricia who was horrified.

"Did you know about this?"

"No. I mean, she was always upset whenever we had to use them, but never said anything," said Tricia.

"It'll be okay," said Medjai, patting her hand with a smile. "You'll be okay."

Medjai asked the servant to escort him out.

"Papa!" cried Malenia from the room.

"It's okay. I'll be back soon," said Radagon.

Medjai was waiting for him out in the hallway.

"Medjai, what's happening to my child?" said Radagon.

"Humph. You are the counterpart to Queen Marika, who is said to be a goddess, and yet, you do not know that Empyreans are nothing more than vassals for outergods?" said Medjai.

"Of course, I knew that," said Radagon. He then muttered. "There can only be one god. I want that thing out of my realm."

"Then let me teach her to fight it. Teach her to flow like water and resist the part she wishes to destroy. And then, in time, she might ward away that outer god and reclaim its power as her birthright," said Medjai.

Chapter Text

Rykard leaned over the mantle where the fire simmered down to a few red embers. As Ghiza droned on, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to the Inquisitor’s excuses. He never liked the man. Ghiza was the sort who seemed more interested in proving the legitimacy of his position than any genuine interests in the realm. There were even rumors about him, or another of his kin, saying prayers a separate Outer God. And Rykard came to suspect this might be the reason that the leprous inquisitor was so anxious to explain—and excuse his previous actions.

It was only fortunate that Marika was distracted by other things when that fiasco in Weeping Peninsula occurred involving the cult of the Soulless Demigods. Having a promissory note from the queen also meant a serious inquiry if Marika ever learned that Ghiza interfered with their affairs in anyway. Ghiza seemed oblivious to this fact and continued to defend the integrity of his work.

"I question in all seriousness, how such individuals could have come into such favor with Marika," Ghiza stated.

"Inquisitor, you have been made aware at this meeting that my sister is in a bad place at this time, were you not?" said Rykard.

"I was. Though I’m not sure all the details.”

"And that it is for me not to be held up too long away from her?"

"Of course."

"Then why in the bloody Shadow Lands are you bothering me with this meeting? I have said before and I will say again that I am not interested in revisiting this matter," shouted Rykard.

Ghiza was taken aback for a moment.

“Forgive me," he said in his raspy voice as his ailment long destroyed his vocal chords. "But I was under the impression that the integrity of the Golden Order is based entirely on our intolerance for heresy."

"My dear boy," sighed Rykard. "That is what we say to the masses, but the reality is we tolerate whatever it is that Marika tells us to tolerate. And if she feels this cult serves whatever purpose, she will tolerate it."

"It has been my experience that very often these heretics grow emboldened more once they believe themselves to be beyond all reproach."

"Did I not make myself clear, Ghiza? We do nothing! I do not care that you spent the last... however many years it was tracking them down. This matter is over."

"But…"

“I think it is well to say that it is time for you to leave, Inquisitor,” said Tanith. “The Praetor has other matters he cares to attend.”

Rykard gave a grateful sigh. Far more diplomatic than him throwing his wine glass at the incompetent fool, which thankfully, he didn’t follow through.

When Ghiza was gone, Rykard gave his wife a weary smile. In a way, he felt his entire private chambers were blighted by the leper. It was late, and Rykard was already in his robes to retire after a long journey from Leyndell when the Inquisitor insisted on this private, unofficial meeting at once.

"Do not fret over him, my love. Ghiza merely wished to save face," Tanith explained.

"If there is a face left under all those bandages," scoffed Rykard. "If it wasn't for House Marias willingness to do all the jobs that no one else wants, I would have rid myself of those festering, smelly slobs."

Tanith raised an eyebrow.

"I know, I know," said Rykard. "I wouldn't wish anyone to talk about my sister like that concerning her similar disease. Still, I have to admit, he does ask a good question. How did Lhutal and her rabble get such a valuable overlook by the queen? Such a thing would require a letter of introduction, at least! It begs the question as to what use she has to Marika?"

"Come, my love and have a seat," Tanith said, taking both his hands.

"Why?"

"Because your consort asks it of you," she replied.

Rykard did, and placed his hand under his chin as he moped about. Tanith kissed his cheek and then placed her lips near enough to his ear to make them tickle with the movement of her mouth, "Let me tell you a story."

"You think I'm interested in your stories?"

"Marika may present herself as the one goddess of these lands, but what if I told you that where I am from, Lords and gods could be made?" said Tanith.

"If your home lands could craft deity then why didn't it craft one strong enough to repell Marika before she razed everything to the ground?" asked Rykard.

"That's not the point. The point is what good is the Golden Order when it rewards men like Marias based on the sound of their prayers instead of their ability?" said Tanith. "Or perhaps you are right and they did anoint the leper to this cause because he does have talent somewhere."

"You think I will risk my position over some stories that you placed value on?"

Tanith gave a chuckle. "If they're mere stories, then why do you feel threatened to hear them?"

Rykard grinned, "Fair enough. Go on. I'll follow you later."

"If my Lord wishes it," said Tanith, laying a gentle kiss on his lips.

Rykard poured another glass of brandy and smiled to himself as he swirled it around in the snifter. He imagined Tanith waiting naked in bed, enticing him with one of her little games. He thought heavy on his own strategy. He decided to tease her a bit, bide his time. Make her frustrated enough to demand his "attention" to the fullest, that they may make love all night.

Maybe, he ought to risk stealing that drop of dew like she asked. Sure, Marika was protective of such things, but he had done far worse before and she hadn’t melted out his eyes yet.

The snifter slipped from his hand, which caused Rykard to snap awake. How long was he asleep? It was but one glass, which was never enough to cause him to pass out.

The fire had grown cold, and all the servants had retired to their quarters. Only one small candle was left lit and melted down almost to a stub. Yet, even in the chill of the room, Rykard sensed he wasn't alone. Sweat began to roll down his face as he felt a presence with so much hatred, but not towards him. It seemed to be within the walls themselves.

The room grew hot even though there was no fire and now the walls began to pulsate like a heartbeat.

His vision snapped when he was startled by a loud hissing. Rykard looked out the window and over the town that surrounded the manor and housed those who guarded the prisoners of Queen Marika. There were so many whom she had condemned to this mountain.

The sound came from a chasm in the rock that spewed out steam which he barely saw in the faint light of torches. It concerned the Praetor. This volcano was extinct and had been so since before the Erdtree. As he stared down at it, his mind flashed with the image of a serpent and words that were unmistakable, "Devour the Gods!"

And just as quickly, the daydream broke, with everything back the way it should be. Beads of sweat rolled down Rykard's face, not entirely sure why such a statement brought on by a fever dream would shake him.

"Devour the gods?"

What gods? There was none other but Marika. There could be no other, as Rykard's work made it so. And yet this statement left its mark in a way that he was again, fumbling around through Ghiza's report.

It stirred a memory in Rykard from his boyhood. While it was profound by itself, he could never have grasped the full magnitude of the conversation at that age and he passed it off as nothing more than another argument between his mother and his aunt.

Their fights were often so heated, that it drew Rykard and Radahn from their beds. The two boys worried about their pregnant mother, as they ought to. Rellana came to "care for" her sister, which was custom—Ranni would likely do the same for Malenia if that time ever came. As usual, his aunt’s perchance to do battle wasn't something Rellana had an easy time resisting. Her and Rennala's differences eroded their relationship and their discussions soon turned to aimless bickering.

"I can't believe thou hath grown infatuated with him, of all people," said Rennala. "Have thee no sense of self respect to either me or thy family?"

"Thou speaketh to me in such a tone when it was thee who hath married Marika's right arm," said Rellana.

"Radagon renounced his aggression. He hath no more to do with that witch after she allowed him cursed," said Rennala.

"And when she puts and end to the giants that cursed him, I'm sure he'll willingly return to her to take his place on her lap," scoffed Rellana.

"There was no need for thee to abandon the Carian cause."

"Whether you wish it or not, Sister, Marika will be queen. And when she is, she will not have any further use to recognize you or your reign. It is well better that I do what I must to ensure I am not so readily discarded."

Rennala laughed. "Marika? A queen? That ‘queen’ is nothing more than a simple little village girl with a grudge against the Hornsent. And I will not kneel before her.”

"It's not a mere grudge. Had I any lack of respect for thee, I would have ye, thee and thy husband, dragged to view their killing fields. To their gaols. The stench alone will turn thee away," said Rellana. "All to make a saint. But most won't even get that far. Instead just serve as breeding for maggots to feed to prisoners."

"Relly, I am not without pity for those who are victims of such vile brutality, Marika included. But this is not our fight. Allow thee not to be lured by someone else's vengeance. For Marika will use thee and then abandon thee," warned Rennala.

Rykard was more than aware that Marika the Eternal didn't have an eternal reign as queen. There were Outer Gods, at least one which she answered to, Fell Gods, Gods of Rot, Gods of Maddness and Frenzy, and others which Rykard was sure that had yet to make themselves known.

But his mother's words about a "simple village girl" seemed to stir a bothersome thought: what were gods if one of humble background, not the offspring of a god nor king, could become one? And what right can any of them claim to godhood? After all, if anyone can be a god, then it stood to reason no one was one.

If only Rykard could ask Rennala directly! How much more did his mother know that her madness no longer allowed her to speak of? Perhaps that was one of many reasons why the Greater Will asked Radagon to leave her.

"Enough of blasphemous thoughts," said Rykard. A mere simple little girl could not be a god, could she? It was impossible! What opportunity could she find that would even put her in contact with the Two-Fingers to have her Empyrean status declared? How could she ever even become an Empyrean, having no blood of royalty.

Simply impossible.

This white Spirit is the true Mercury of Philosophers, which has been before me and will be after me, without which the Philosopher's stone, and great mystery cannot be made... much less a particular transmutation. - The Last Will and Testament

In the beginning, there was only darkness.

There were voices. Cries of mercy.

There was the smell. A horrid stench of blood, feces, and vomit.

This liquid mass is what she breathed. In and out, she pushed the thick, perverted amniotic fluid through her lungs.

Then they said "Let there be light" and a ray of silver came through the sac and stabbed into eyes that previously only saw darkness. Her legs and arms pushed against the sac which stretched and waned, but did not yield. A sharp blade penetrated the bubble and drained out the fluid. The membrane shrank until it fitted snug around the girl's body. She coughed out the vile pus as it was replaced by the empty air.

There were cries of excitement as the onlookers motioned to their fellows. "Come and see! Come and see!" The labors of their Great Work produced the great stone of the Philosophers. They drew the knife across the sac and dragged the girl's frail emaciated body out from its place of warmth and across the cold, dirty stone.

She wailed at her first breaths and curled back up in the fetal position as more and more gathered in curiosity. Had they truly achieved the great work? They touched her soft flesh in wonder, petting down her nude body as she huddled and shivered in fear and cold.

They grabbed her arms to pull her up to her knees. One of them ran his hands over her cheeks, shoulders, breasts and down her hips. He pried her eyes open which forced the girl to flinch away as the stinging light pierced her iris. He grabbed her chin and again forced the eyelid open, forcing her to look upon his sneering horned face—a face she would curse all of those called "omen" to see in their nightmares, just as she was forced to see in the beginning of hers. Flies buzzed around, landing on her and biting into her flesh and yet horned ones hailed no compassion for her whimpers.

He moved to the girl's navel and examined the fleshy, profane umbilical cord as others began to wipe her down from the slime.

They stopped when the Hornsent Grandam came. News of the Miracle spread fast. They tried to stand the girl up, but her legs wouldn't work, which they scolded her for her lack of reverence. The Grandam scolded them in turn. She then handed her walking stick to one of the bystanders.

"There, there," whispered the Grandam as she took the girl into her arms. It was the language of her village, which caused the girl to burst out in tears to once again hear it. "Have no fear, little child. Thou art part of something wonderful. Grandam is here to show you how."

A blanket was put on the girl's shoulders and the Grandam allowed the girl to drink from her personal flask. She then took the rag and began rubbing the girl's chin and hair to make her more comfortable.

"We will give thee all, Great Saint. For that is what thou art. And we will name thee."

The girl was bewildered. Confused. Great Saint? Even as the voices of those who joined with her called out to have themselves heard, the girl still had her own mind. She still had memories.

They did not create her. She was not their Saint.

Her name was Marika.

Chapter Text

"Godwyn? Godwyn!"

Godwyn was slumped over in a chair on his balcony, with a tipped-over bottle of wine next to him. From what Tiche last heard, he ordered several bottles over the last several days before his mother cut him off. Though, by then, he had amassed an impressive stash of drink to keep him intoxicated for days.

Tiche looked back at Fortissax who gave a shrug of his dragon shoulders. He then nudged Godwyn with his nose hard enough to knock the demigod from his seat.

Godwyn entered a fury, swinging his arms and wailing like a madman. He shouted orders to an invisible army as his unsteady feet gave out and threw him back to the ground before Fortissax pushed him to the ground and pinned him with one claw.

"Godwyn, its us!" exclaimed Tiche.

The fog of battle faded from Godwyn, and he was again aware that he was in Lyndell. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes from both tears and drink.

"I..."

"Don’t talk," said Tiche.

"What are you doing here?"

"Worried, obviously."

"Ranni?"

"She's become her mother. Her mind is too broken to even look at the world. So, she's retreated to her own," said Fortissax.

"I need to see her," said Godwyn.

"What thinketh thou canst do for her? Right now thy feet don't even work," said Fortissax.

"Come on," said Tiche, putting his arm around her shoulder to steady him. He leaned hard against her as she led him to where the servants prepared a hot bath.

Godwyn did smell of death.

As a child, Tiche watched from her hiding place among the trees outside the Woodfolk Village. The inhabitants complained about the stench and how it made them sick. They spent the day searching for the little hovel Alecto told her to stay in, determined to wipe it from their presence. Some even stated that the scent was evidence of Marika's failure to remove death from the world.

They were not wrong.

What many did not know—or even consider—was the limits of Marika's power. Death was never destroyed. Taken and sealed away, sure, and even indefinitely. Perhaps Marika would have people consider that "destroyed," but it was far from it. And day by day, Alecto dreamed of a time when she could have it again to exact her justice against Marika for tricking her.

But as others feared it, for Tiche, the smell was something of a comfort. It meant her mother returned, and the little girl knew she was safe again.

"This is my fault," said Godwyn.

"How is this your fault?" Tiche asked as she wiped her hand over Godwyn's shoulders.

"We have all grew up terrified of him," said Godwyn.

“Maliketh?”

“I shouldn’t have left her alone with him.”

"Mother used to tell stories about Marika’s shadow-bound beast and half-brother. How he could destroy demigods," said Tiche. "But your children are alive and hidden away now. I don't see your mother or anyone else letting them be discovered. Not by him."

"I have nightmares about it. Every day, I wake up with dreams of maggots crawling under my skin and thorns tearing out of my body," said Godwyn.

"Shhh. Enough of this," said Tiche.

Once Godwyn was cleaned as good as he could without Tiche getting too intimate, she helped him to his bed to dress him.

As Tiche was combing out his long, golden hair, Godwyn began to sob. She laid her head down on his shoulder. Without knowing why, a single tear rolled down her cheek.

No feelings for the Demigods.

Godwyn shifted, and his gentle hand rested on Tiche's cheek. A strong, callused hand that showed Godwyn was more than just a spoiled son of the queen that Alecto painted all Marika’s children as.

Ranni was loyal, to a fault even.

Rykard was clever and could outwit anyone within the Lands-Between.

Radahn was brave and disciplined.

Miquella was perhaps the most intelligent little boy Tiche had ever seen. And kind to a point where it was supernatural.

Malenia was resilent.

And Godwyn was passionate. He was a man hardened in combat, yet the one who brokered the peace between Leyndell and the Ancient Dragons.

There were others of Marika’s offspring, but these were the ones that Tiche had come to observe.

When his lips met hers, Tiche welcomed it. A strong part of her wanted this from the day she first laid eyes on the demigod. His scent, again brought that feeling of safety. She watched him often from afar, convincing herself that she was on recon for her guild, but in reality, she wished to see him if only to imagine what life might be with him.

When it was done, Tiche wished for another but, despite the longing, said with a sigh, "No. We shouldn't."

Godwyn nodded in agreement, "You should go."

For a moment, after Tiche departed, Godwyn sat on his bed. He remembered that night when he witnessed the sacred intimacy between his parents. It was then that Godwyn understood Marika's power and how she tamed and molded his father, Godfrey, from a savage warrior to a Lord. A rebirth of sorts as they became one only but for a moment. And though Godfrey was satisfied with the encounter, Marika was frustrated that her Lord could not remain part of her.

But as a warrior, Godfrey did not wish to lose his independence. Through seduction, Marika had already stripped him of his ferocity and savage nature. The beasts no longer let him run with them and he became as civilized as any man. He refused to let her take more, assuring her he would never leave her side as they made love. He was just as content living in his lover's embrace as did the mortals. But Marika, the goddess as she was, wanted more.

Could Godwyn, who was of the blood of Marika, not better bind with her and thus gain the gift of her eternal life?

As he pondered why his mother chose to reject him, Godwyn felt a twitch in his eye. He rubbed it, but that twitch to became a burning sensation. He rushed to his wash basin and splashed water in his eyes over and over to remove the offensive thing.

When he looked in the mirror, he saw a speck of sorts, swimming in the fluid of his eyes and showing Godwyn a vision of sorts where the thorns pierced his skin and flayed to rent the spirit from it that it might be devoured. And to his remembrance was the horrid prediction from the Finger Reading crone who had nursed him.

"When thou wast born, she loved thee more—and desired not for thee to die. And so she challenged the holder of death itself. Even the very Gloam-Eyed Queen. That she may hold Destined Death as a rune within her Elden Ring, should thy mother falter in her path, then thou shalt die against her will."

"No," said Godwyn, realizing that time was coming. And all his mother could give him in place of immortality was offspring. "Let me die, Mother and I will destroy everything. I will poison you from your roots. I swear it."

Of course, Marika said nothing in return. She wasn't there.

What to do? At this point, he could bear no trust in anyone. Even his closest friends were likely watched by those who had declared him their enemy. His mother had already given her answer. And Ranni... she was gone.

His beautiful Ranni! Thinking about her was painful, and he refused to do so.

Right now, Godwyn had to think of how to escape this horrid failure of his mother.

If his mother would inevitably fail to save him from death, then it was for him to look to cheat it. And he knew there was a way to do it.

Tiche was in tears when she made it back outside the capital, wishing she hadn't said or done what she did. But as her mother always said: Everyone wanted to see the world as though it was painted different shades of gray. And they all looked for the shades they fit to justify themselves as the exception. But there were just some things in the world that were clearly right and clearly wrong. And when people - or gods even - lost sight of that fact, they turned to horrible things to see their will done.

After a long while, Alecto found her, as she always did. Tiche was curled up in a nook up on the ramparts of Leyndell. It was childish but kept her out of sight while she worked up the courage to return home.

"Why is it that you are always sleeping?" said Alecto.

"Why do you always have to mock me?" said Tiche.

Alecto rolled her eyes, "I am not mocking you, Tiche."

"No, just disappointed in me. I can't do anything right by your eyes."

"It was never going to work, Tiche," said Alecto. She placed her hand on Tiche's cheek and used her thumb to wipe away a tear. "Come, quit your crying. There is much work we have to do."

"Like what? It seems the only 'work' we do is spying on Marika's brood. We have nothing! We're no closer to our goal than before," said Tiche.

"Hush," said Alecto.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Mother," said Tiche.

"Oh, and what will you do instead? Huh? What?" said Alecto. "Marika buried our home long ago."

"Your home," snapped Tiche. "How do you expect me to care about the fates of the Eternal Cities when I never saw them as you did?"

"Marika..."

Tiche rolled her eyes, "Oh, not again with your Marika, this and Marika that. Maybe if you and the others didn't try and kill Metyr, then she wouldn't have any reason to bury you and the Nox."

"She would have buried us because we saw the truth. Killing her was the only thing we could do at that point."

"If people want to believe in the Greater Will, why can't you just let..."

Alecto's hand went over Tiche's mouth.

"Shhh," she said. She slowly released her grip and both women drew out their daggers. "He's here."

"How did Marika know to send him?" Tiche whispered.

"Because she always knows we're here. Nothing is ever secret to her," said Tiche. She held out her dagger. "Come, beast-man. We can dance again, you and I. And perhaps then you can send my regards to your half-sister."

Maliketh's growls proceeded him, melting from the shadows.

"Thou art not welcomed here, Alecto," snarled Maliketh.

"And you think you are? Like us, Marika has merely not found a way to rid herself of you," replied Alecto.

Maliketh let out a roar which Alecto moved that she would stand between him and Tiche. When he lunged forward, Alecto threw Tiche off the ramparts, and she landed hard on her back.

Maliketh jumped over Alecto to chase after Tiche, but Alecto threw a holy blade of gold at the beast, stopping it in its tracks.

"Foul creature! Is it not me whom your mistresses wishes to see dead more?" shouted Alecto.

When he came at her, Alecto jumped high, coming down on Maliketh's back. Her blade pierced into his armor but did not hurt him much. He shook her off, and she pushed her knife into the stone wall to halt her fall.

Maliketh pounced, forcing her to let go of the blade to avoid him. She leaped again when the beast kicked off the wall. Alecto was able to grab hold of his long silver mane. He shook and leaped from rooftop to rooftop, trying to shake the assassin off.

It was so close. Alecto could smell that power. And yet one touch of it from the black beast, and Alecto would meet a swift demise. Maliketh spun, leaping and snarling until he threw Alecto off. She slid across the ground, but Maliketh was on top of her before she could recover.

"Go on. Do it. Show yourself to be the foul creature we both know you are."

"Foul creature am I? Who is thee to lurk around in shadows," gloated Maliketh as he ripped off Alecto's hood. "Thou presumes thyself a threat. Go. Lest I lose control and devour thee anyway."

When Maliketh was gone, Alecto sighed in relief. Thank goodness that Marika decided it was more dangerous to kill her than leave her alive. Once again, her old ally's calculating schemes played in her favor. Had she been anyone else—even Tiche—Marika would have sought her death, or worse.

Alecto refused to think of that. Tiche was safe. That was all that mattered.

I am the Black of the White and the Red of the White and the yellow of the Red; I am the herald of truth and no liar. (Roob, 292)

Chapter Text

“Okay, see if you can move it this way,” said Miquella.

He waved his own wrist up and down, which Malenia attempted to mimic with the wood prosthesis. She couldn’t do it, and Miquella frowned. He thought he made the device well enough to imitate the motion of a real arm in all his tests, and yet Malenia still struggled with it. The fingers didn’t have enough dexterity to pick up anything small, and she still lacked full wrist mobility. Miquella couldn’t tell if it was a lack of practice with the device or if it was because the design was flawed.

Miquella sighed in frustration. He took the arm off his sister to inspect it.

A bit disturbing. As neither Miquella nor the other demigods seemed affected by Malenia’s rot, mortals could. He warned the Golden Order to keep their eyes on Finlay, and do anything necessary if she so much as showed mild symptoms.

“I’m sorry,” said Malenia.

“It’s okay,” said Miquella, kissing her cheek. “I’m not angry. I’ll never be angry at you again.”

Even though Malenia didn’t run away, Miquella wasn’t about to do anything that would make her want to leave him. Not even for a moment. Those months without her made him terrified and vulnerable. Malenia was the one among them who was brave enough to approach Mr. Margit and helped him not be afraid of the creature. She talked about the assassin that came to Redmane Castle. She described it as feeling no fear for herself, but for Finlay, who had become very dear to the demigod.

And now Medjai trained her to fight. Though her training was more like play with Finlay, it made Miquella excited he had more time to work on curing her.

“I just don’t understand. I used all the old specs perfectly and it still doesn’t work,” said Miquella, turning the device over and flexing the joints. He thought perhaps that an organic thing like wood might allow his sister to better interact with it, but that was not proving to be true.

Much of what he could do was limited. He hadn’t yet figured out how to apply the consecration incantations and so Malenia often rotted out many of the mechanisms before he could figure out the problem. If it was something large, Miquella was certain to have seen it already, but he suspected many of the issues was a matter of a few minor tweaks. This meant that even if he could get a design that worked perfectly in theory, Malenia’s condition changing in any way, meant he might have to start all over.

Perhaps if he used wood from the Erdtree? Miquella wasn’t sure how his mother may react to that, but she had left him that small twig. Maybe if he could get it to grow?

Godwyn barged in as Miquella was making a few adjustments to Malenia’s arm.

“Miquella, I need to speak with you,” said Godwyn.

Miquella was a perplexed as he requested no one to bother him during this precious time with his twin. He needed every ounce of his focus on his experiments.

“Do I have to now?” said Miquella.

“Now,” snapped Godwyn.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” said Malenia.

Godwyn picked Malenia up, which she didn’t like when she was angry.

“You know why Radahn kidnapped you?”

“He didn’t kidnap me,” said Malenia.

Godwyn kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you’re not hurt, but my disagreement with Radahn had left me with a situation where I need your brother’s assistance. It will be just a moment.”

“Fine,” said Miquella. “Just a moment. You’re spoiling my focus.”

When Malenia sat back down and waited, Godwyn spoke.

“Miquella, you have studied under the tenants of the Golden Order,” said Godwyn,

“Of course. Papa said he gave me the best teachers,” said Miquella.

“I need to know if there’s any way a man can escape death,” said Godwyn.

Miquella wrinkled an eyebrow.

“Escape death? Why would anyone need that?”

Malenia giggled. “Mother removed the Rune of Death from the Elden Ring a long time ago.”

“And now Maliketh used it against Ranni,” said Godwyn,

Miquella was taken aback by the allegation. Of course, the twins received a brief explanation that Ranni “wasn’t well” and the two babes she carried “had to go for a bit.”

Like all the demigods, the twins were not an exception in their fear of Maliketh.

“Is that’s what’s wrong with Ranni?”

“Miquella, whatever you do, do not let them bind you or Malenia to a shadow. Refuse it at all costs. Find someone you trust to protect you. Do you understand?” said Godwyn.

“I think so,” said Miquella as his lips trembled and Godwyn sighed in relief.

“Stay vigilant Brother,” smiled Godwyn.

“Are you going away?”

“Yes. For a long time perhaps,” said Godwyn.

“Why?”

“Things happened that you won’t understand,” said Godwyn. “There is a lot I have to learn and understand about the world. If I’m successful then, like mother, I can change my fate.”

“What things? Brother, please tell me. I can help you, and Ranni,” said Miquella as tears welled up.

“It’s nothing that should be helped, but worked through and sacrified for,” said Godwyn.

“I don’t accept that.”

“You have to. I promise, won’t be far. Malenia, come here,” said Godwyn.

As the twins embraced their eldest brother, Godwyn kissed both their heads as he told them he loved them. He would have stood by their sides to see them grow up, but this was a matter of some urgency. If he succeeeded, it would benefit them both.

“At least see Ranni again. Before she leaves. She may not be talking right now anything that makes sense, but she still loves you. And that’s something you shouldn’t abandon,” said Miquella.

“Of course.”

“Promise me, brother that you’ll see her. And then return to us as soon as you can? Both you and her,” said Miquella.

“Yes,” said Godwyn. “I promise. Stay strong. The both of you. Study hard. I know you can change this world, Miquella. And you’ll protect him, right Malenia?”

There was just one thing left to do before he made his long journey. Rykard was none too happy when he saw Fortissax up in the air, flying over the carriage meant to take them back to the Carian Royal manor. With a heavy sigh, he ordered it to stop and stepped out just as the dragon landed. He waved at Rennala's personal knight, Moongrum, to keep his sword in its scabbard, yet the young man still held on the hilt.

Marika promised her stepson that he could take Ranni home without incident, including the meddling of her "golden child." But Godwyn didn't care about anything his mother agreed to with his stepbrother.

"I thought your mother made the consequences of coming here clear. I've held back for a good amount of time, Godwyn. Don't tempt me to change that dynamic," said Rykard.

"Shut up," said Godwyn. Soon Kristoff and the others of the dragon cult came riding up to stand beside him. "Regrettably, I did not call upon my friends to aid in the battle against your brother, but I have them with me now."

"You lay one finger on her..." warned Rykard.

"Name one moment where I ever disrespected your sister, which wasn't caused by either you or your brother meddling with my life," said Godwyn.

"There were plenty of times..."

"Which times?" snapped Godwyn.

Rykard didn't have an answer and so stood down.

Ranni was staring off at nothing when Godwyn approached. A few words might have passed her lips, but it was nothing but nonsense as her once brilliant mind was now in the slumber of which Godwyn couldn't be sure she would ever awaken. Her eye was still scared from the attack of Maliketh, and yet that was the least of the wounds. The mental ones that she birthed and lost their children in the span of only a few hours.

"Ranni?" he said, kneeling before her, even if he wasn't sure she heard him. But as his mother said, all this needed to run its course. He, too, had a monster inside of him that meant perhaps time apart was for the best. They both needed to know what to do with their grief, and Godwyn had to learn what to do with his lust and fear of his own death.

"I know you'll be away from me for a while. It's all well. There are things I have to work out. I'm sorry I ever laid a hand on you. But I'll find a way to make it safe to bring our children home. Even if I have to kill Maliketh myself," said Godwyn.

"Are you finished?" scoffed Rykard.

"Yeah, I am," replied Godwyn. He placed a kiss on Ranni's forehead. "Goodbye, my Love."

Godwyn watched the carriage depart and head off across the border. Only time now could tell what will happen next.

"We stand with you, Godwyn," said one of the Knights.

"I was a fool not to call upon your strength when I needed it the most. That was my pride and fall. But no more. You will serve me now under a new name. Here on out, you will become my Death Knights. Our goal is clear: Destroy Maliketh and capture the Rune of Death. Once it is in my possession, then no more shall my children or my true love have to fear it. It will be our weapon. And with it, we'll forge a new age."

They nodded in agreement. For what man could deny that this world was growing stale? The promises made by Queen Marika she either lacked the ability or will to fulfill. And if it be under Godwyn the Golden, scion of Queen Marika, at the very least, they may look forward to the promises of the queen.

"Ranni? Ranni, we're finally home," said Rykard. He wished it was more a relief than it turned out to be as he took his sister's hand and helped her out of the carriage. It was just like their mother now.

Still, she seemed aware enough to allow a smile seeing the blue flowers that carpeted the courtyard. The Carian Knights bowed to her, yet she seemed to pay them no mind.

Rykard let her wander a bit, and grow familiar with her surroundings again. A little sheen in the sunlight caught the princess's eye, and she knelt before a marvelous golden lily.

"That's a little experiment from Miquella. He wanted you to be the first to see it," said Rykard. "He hoped it would heal you."

Poor Iji, Rykard thought. Between Rennala and now Ranni, the gentle troll must have his hands full. Such an underutilized talent, but what need was there for a war council without a war? If anything, the fall of the royal family was certain. It was only sad that it ended this way: not with the grand ascension of an Empyrean who rose above mortality but into darkness of sadness and grief.

When Ranni was settled in her room, Renna came in.

"The children?" said Rykard.

"They arrived safe and will be indefinitely. Blaidd will ensure it," said Renna.

"You are certain you can trust these folks?"

"These folks, they stood by their friends, the Fire Giants, when Queen Marika demanded their surrender. If we can't trust them, then trust has no place in the Lands-Between," said Renna.

"Very well. Perhaps that small comfort might bring something to her," said Rykard.

Ranni's eyes were fixed on the full moon that was now halted forever in that position. Its brightness was like that night when she and Rennala went deep into the woods and witnessed the darkmoon itself. Though just a child, Ranni swore to neither forget nor surrender who she was. And yet, here she was – one piece of her at a time was lost, even an age that was meant as free of death.

“When your mother had learned that Radagon had at last abandoned her, she was sitting in that very chair. I don’t think I could ever forget her face. It was like every shred of dignity was yanked away from her. She was so…” Renna paused, trying to think of the best word, “...embarrassed.”

Ranni lifted her head and Renna took her hand.

They walked along the paths behind the manor where the towers known as the “Three Sisters” were. Renna’s rise was in the middle with the two representing the twin moons under her.

There was a lot more certainty back then. And when Rennala discovered the magic of the moon and both charmed and stumped the greatest minds of the academy, it felt the seat of their power was set.

“Back then, your mother thought that all she needed was just time and all the pieces would fall into place. Who knew that it was nothing more than a frail puff of wind that might blow it all down,” said Renna.

“I had always felt anger towards my father,” said Ranni.

Renna was puzzled that her once protege spoke again.

“But what have I done better, but surrender my birthright because I thought I was in love?”

“Ranni, what is it that you wish of me?”

She closed her eyes, daring not to ask a question that felt long forbidden. Since the first day they met on that cold night where they met, Ranni feared to ask anything of the witch. For she had already imparted on some of her greatest secrets, and Ranni was hard pressed to believe that such generosity wouldn’t come without some kind of price later.

“I wish, that thou would show me the power great enough that I might tread the dark path as which was intended of me from the foundation of the stars,” said Ranni.

Renna sighed, either of disappointment or sadness. It was hard to say what. The witch always knew that at some point it would come to this, but for whatever reason it still seemed to come all too soon. But there was little she could do to underestimate the power of a woman so desperate to save her children.

“I am unsure of this,” said Renna.

“Thou hast always said to not give but one inch of myself. And yet when it comes to what I am destined to do, thou hesitates.”

“Ranni, I wish to tell you a story. Do you know about the Hornsent.”

“They built a great empire under the guidance of the crucible.”

“That they did. They had a talent for that. Give a Hornsent merchant a mere coin and he’d have five by the end of the day. They created poetry and art that was greater than anything the world had seen. They brought stability to places that knew only war. They united a shattered world under the single power of their faith in the crucible and the idea all things can be conjoined. But for all that they had and all that they built, they could not overcome their own hubris.

“You were born of royalty and with a want for nothing. But there are those who are born to have nothing and desire nothing. Yet, if wealth was measured by something more meaningful than possession, then they would be the richest of all. And Marika's people were those who only found their purpose in crossing the veil between life and death and bringing the guidence of those who have left this world.

"For all their talents and wisdom amassed within their libraries and generations of advancement, the Hornsent could not see this. They tried to make saints of those who already were already saints and did not care what means it took to achieve that.

"Conviction without morals carries dire consequences, Ranni. When you can convince people to believe absurdities, then they will commit atrocities. Good people will commit atrocities. And Marika was a good person. She was an innocent child who was only taught how to do good things in the world. A child who had nothing more than a hearth and a fire, and yet had full life that others could only dream of.

"In the dead of the night, the Hornsent rode into the village and plucked her from her bed. They they tore her flesh with whips made of rotting teeth, fermented her in filth and forced to drink the dregs of sorrow from the cup of despair. But for all their cleverness, her handlers could not come to understand that despite all they did to mold her into their sacred idol, Marika harbored within herself a seething rage.

"Nothing more but an insignificant village that I don't believe had a name. Yet, for robbing that tiny speck of happiness from that little girl's world, Marika would see the entirety theirs burn. And they would see their goddess of compassion turn to one of wrath.

“I tell you this that you may understand that this dark path you wish to walk will ask much from you and those who choose to surround you. Like Marika, you will have to make choices. And they will be difficult ones. I only beg that if any of these choices ever become easy, that you abandon immediately your resolve. For once a choice becomes easy for you, you are no longer worthy to make it. Do you understand me, my dear Ranni?”

"I promise. I swear that I will do what needs to be done to free this world of these gods. All of them. The ones that destroyed Marika's village. The ones that eat away my half sister. Even the ones that wish to use my little brother. And will not make any meaningless sacrifice to do so. If free will is cold uncertainty, then I shall let it be so."

Renna nodded, "And I will hold you to that, Princess. And thus I will teach you things to prepare you. And when the time is right, then you will make contact with Alecto."

"Alecto?"

"Never mind how to find her at this time. She'll find you in time."

“Renna,” said Ranni.

“Humm…”

“If Marika be a wrathful goddess. And her wrath was spent on those who had done her a great wrong, what sort of god could she be if there be no more to take vengeance?”

“You are asking the question myself, Lansseax, Mirel and all others who were once respected councilors asked over the centuries. If you were to ask me, I would say Marika didn’t know what to do with the world after she had what was hers. And for that, we see it now in the state that it’s in.”

Bring me my Bow of burning gold:

Bring me my Arrows of desire:

Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold:

Bring me my Chariot of fire! - William Blake

Chapter Text

Marika used to not feel cold, but she sure felt it now without the embrace of fire. She watched the now still skies of the night. The palace she built to keep her children close and safe began to feel empty.

There was so much she could have said to Ranni about the situation. Nothing to make it better, but at least to soothe the worst feeling of it all: the feeling that she was alone.  

No, daughter… Ranni was her daughter. As conflicted as she was to think that, it was the absolute truth. Radagon was her, and she was Radagon. She sought to end the Carian's influence in the Lands-Between so that she may spread her influence. It was her, in failing that, who seduced Rennala and conceived the children of the Carian Royal Family. Despite not wanting it, she decided to leave Rennala and return to her other half. And she felt no remorse for doing any of it, for what it had done to unite her kingdom.

While Marika had come to despise her other half—even as she had despised herself- perhaps she began to see where this position could be advantageous. She could feel those feelings–love, empathy, kindness – once again, now that she and Radagon were made whole. And yet, she was no less of a god, having now accepted her other half. She began to question whether she ever needed to abandon herself.

The Fingers challenged what they thought of as defiance.

“Why doth thou need these children born of thy son and daughter? What purpose do they serve to us and the Greater Will?” the Fingers hissed.

“The Greater Will? Hath either of us ever spoken to such a thing? I seem to doubt that. As for thee, doth thou not understand that not all things need have a purpose unto thee?” Marika cried in protest.

Alas, it was useless to explain to a being no more intelligent than fungus that she allowed the two precious grandchildren to be conceived for no reason other than wanting them. There was no greater scheme. She wanted nothing of the children conceived. The decision to leave her son and stepdaughter alone in the chamber, even knowing the follies of youth of that age, had no order to its logic.

These little children were something for Marika to love, and that was all. It was just a longing, as Marika rubbed her shortened braid, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

She knew more than anyone could possibly know about what it was like to have to surrender her children. The hardest part was knowing exactly what had happened.

Just before the purge, Messmer gave a little smirk as he waited in his study. Tardiness was a habit of his sister's since the day she was born.

On that day, Messmer was ordered to wait in the chapel until someone fetched him when his mother was done. Not the library that he might at least have the company of books. Not with his tutor that he could at least argue things he had little knowledge of. The church where there was nothing but this faint counterfeit idol of her carved in stone.

He kicked the back of the seat in front of him until the finish had worn off from the friction. He hated that he had to wait while no one seemed interested in giving him even the slightest word about his mother. Of course, the Hornsent cared nothing for her – or him, for that matter. If she died, they could request more “ingredients” from their potentaits to form another “saint” like her.

His tutors made it sound like their ability to casually toy with life was a strength. They boasted of their great discoveries but never of their compassion. There was no compassion, only the pride of imitating divinity.

“Then why don’t you?” Messmer snapped once he grew sick of their boasting. Their faces alone made the comment well worth the consequences that followed.

After somewhere between forever and eternity, Messmer grew sick of sitting in the chapel with nothing more than the statue of his mother to keep him company. They pretended as though it was in any way a substitute for the real thing. Soon, he huffed in frustration and headed out in the hall.

Part of him was tempted to go out and look for his mother, but the Hornsent Grandam told him that if he left, it would only make finding him harder.

She never liked him and didn’t make much a secret of it. “Your mother went through far too much to have you at the time she did. But of course, we had to keep you. If only to keep her happy.”

Soon, the chapel door opened the old woman with twisted horns entered.

“Hath thou kick off that finish?” scolded Grandam. She went to inspect the pew and rubbed her hand on the area that was now nothing more than bare wood. She gave Messmer a disappointed look, which indicated she wanted the six year old to explain himself.

“The only thing I want to know is where is my mother,” he scoffed.

Grandam sighed and then took Messmer’s hand, “Come then. I’d hope thine mother would discipline thee, but she probably won’t.”

The Hornsent Scholars paid him no mind as they buried themselves in the numerous books. One yelled at another lowly servant for bringing “rubbish” instead of a properly translated text. Another paced back and forth as he practiced his lectures. There was another at least who surrounded himself with impressionable youth as he discussed the mathematics of the star movement. And yet another who had scribbled every inch of a slate with a conjecture he looked to rigorously test .

His mother always warned him that despite their seemingly great intellect, to remain weary of anything they said. After all, there did exist ideas so absurd that only intellectuals would believe them.

When Messmer entered the room where his mother had spent the last sixteen hours, there was a reverence about it. The midwives and chambermaids spoke in whispers as they removed the soiled sheets so as not to disturb the tranquility and silence.

Stone tablets, scrolls, and books surrounded Marika’s bed, which was typical of the young woman’s personality. She often read them to Messmer when she had time away from her "purpose" as the Hornsent called it. The Hornsent desired to keep her happy at whatever cost , and while other woman might use that to demand riches, jewels, and lovers to share their bed, Marika used her influence to request books to study and tutors to teach her subjects from the Mathematics to the humanities, to the philosophy and languages. She absorbed every seed of their words, soon reading up to six books a day, and yet she still thirsted.

There was a power in knowing things.

Marika’s attention was fully on the bundle within her arms, which she doted upon with a tender smile. Her blond hair was matted down with sweat and her chest still glistened with moisture.

“Great Saint,” said Hornsent Grandam, bowing before Marika. “By thy request, I have brought thy son to thee.”

Marika lifted her head with a weary smile and held out her arm to invite Messmer to her.

“Come and meet your sister,” she said.

He climbed up in her bed and allowed Marika to embrace him with her one free arm. As he settled next to Marika, he laid his head against her chest to listen to her heartbeat. He watched that little bundle as it nuzzled up against their mother in search of a breast. Curious, Messmer placed his finger near the little babe’s mouth and she latched onto it.

Messmer giggled with a big grin, “I like her.”

Marika nodded as she struggled to stay awake. She kissed Messmer’s head , “ I’m glad.”

Marika had placed the tiny babe on Messmer’s lap, which made the young lad elated . He rocked his sister and told her everything she needed to know to be a good daughter. At the very least, despite her young age and difficulties, no one could say Marika wasn’t at least a good mother. Messmer was her everything. She doted on him, keeping him as close as possible.

“Messmer, do you mind leaving a moment?” said Hornsent Grandam. She was at least polite enough to let Messmer finish telling his sister a story that he presented as "true" but was probably more a mechanism of his imagination.

He looked to his mother who nodded before she took her child back. Messmer kissed his sister on the forehead and promised he'd return soon to tell her more about what life in the Realm was like . But when he went to leave the room, he only pretended he closed the door all the way. Through the crack, he could still hear the conversation.

“What hath thou done?” Grandam asked.

Marika looked up and glared at the Grandam.

“I know this child has no father,” said Grandam. She leaned in close. “What Rune hath thou plucked from the Elden Ring because of thine reckless immaturity? Whose fall did you cause?

“Wouldn’t thou wish to know?” smirked Marika as she returned to doting on her child.

“Marika.”

“Who art thou whom I should answer to?"

Grandam closed her eyes, “What is done is done. The power thou now possesses. This shadow war that thou chooses to battle against thine rivals? What purpose can it serve us?”

“Serve thee? What hath Hornsent done to make them worthy of my gifts? Create me? I had rather they not.”

“Think on what good thou hath now the power to bring about! Thine village was but a small speck and meaningful only to thee. What of the wider world?" said Grandam. "Thine suffering hath made thee strong to thus nurture those who suffer also."

“I am to be a goddess and there will be nothing impossible to me,” said Marika.

"This world needs no god! Only the understanding of the crucible and the conjoining of imperfection to make perfection. That is all it needs. Remember, to whom thee owes thy life."

There were many aspects of Marika that Messmer admired, but it was her ability to remain unpredictable that he took as the most useful. He admired how his mother dismantled the entirety of her rival's power in absolute secrecy and with only the strength and aide of her appointed shadow, Maliketh. A shadow war that no one had known occurred and buried the woman's name from all of history without anyone knowing what happened.

And she still wielded it, showing Messmer all its ability and strengths. In this new war, the Hornsent will see Messmer coming, and they will go to their created Saint, Marika herself for guidance, none the wiser that all this was happening by her hand.

It made Messmer smile to think his mother's plan to reveal her true nature began to unfold. This weapon called "secrecy" Messmer used to every advantage it offered until he obtained his own mastery of it. And now, with that weapon sharpened to a razor, he intended to rain down every morsel of destruction his mother required of him, regardless of what he thought on the matter.

Melina soon entered and leaned against the closed door while her single opened eye stared down at the stone floor. This lack of confidence wouldn't do, but Messmer still beamed smile when seeing her.

"You have called me, Brother?" she asked.

"Indeed I have. It's time you learn what it is to rule," said Messmer, putting an arm around her and leading her towards his council table.

"I do not believe Mother intends to see me as a ruler of any sort," replied Melina.

"True, but mother intends you observe and learn all about this world. And if you are to choose one whose Lordship mother will sanction hereafter, then you should understand the qualities of strength one such as that must possess. Lest you wish to bestow your gifts on ones less worthy," said Messmer. He then turned to his two most trusted friends who remained here: Gaius and Rellana.

"Shall we continue?" said Rellana, showing her typical lack of patience.

"How about the beginning? That my sister may know what it is that we do here," said Messmer.

Rellana rolled her eyes, "If you insist."

"My scouts reported that the Hornsent leadership gathers now into Belurat, just as usual for their rituals," said Gaius. "All of them should arrive by the morning."

"And is Grandam also there?"

"Yes."

"To the surprise of no one, of course," said Messmer as he leaned over the map. "Indeed having her in our clutches would sure be enough to cause many to faulter."

"Do you expect they turn her over to you? That is with the right amount of pursuasion?"

"Perhaps, but the Hornsent are united in their common beliefs. And there are lots of places her sort could hide. We could spend months patrolling ever inch of its streets and never find her," mused Messmer.

"Forget the Grandam. We ought to just wipe away that eyesore in its entirity," said Gaius.

"And kill everyone inside?" said Rellana.

"This is war! And war is ugly," said Gaius.

"You pretend I don't know that. It is ugly . And there's no need to make it worse. We're looking for a victory, not genocide."

"Mother has her own plans with the tower," said Messmer. "And for her purposes, she needs the Hornsent broken, not dead. They have to turn to her that she can have them carve her way to divinity."

"Why such deception?" Melina asked.

"Melina," sighed Messmer in a bit of frustration. Must she always question everything? Of course she did! That was her purpose to observe and understand. But she needed to learn when such a gift should and should not be used . "It is not for us to question Mother and her will. It is enough for her to only say what must happen and us to have faith it will all make sense in the end."

Melina didn't seem pleased with this reply and Messmer would have to take her aside and discuss this later. It was his responsibility, after all, to ensure that his sister understood fully her purpose and place in the wider scheme. Messmer was more than willing to take on the role, but it also meant that he would have to keep her safe and happy. She was precious to Marika and their mother hinted at a specific purpose by which she was meant to play in the unraveling of this play.

"It's best at this point that we focus on the area surrounding the tower . Make our attack swift first with your armored Calvary Gaius. Rellana raining down magic from a distance," said Messmer.

"And your fire?" Gaius asked.

Messmer said nothing.

"Messmer? Your fire? Is that not your power?"

"Only... only if there's need. If they refuse to run..."

"That doesn't sound too honorable," said Gaius.

"There never was. Only results," scoffed Messmer. He then gasped, holding his chest. Rellana went to help him, which he brushed her off. "Take my sister back to her chambers, please."

"I'll see to it," said Gaius.

Although unable to walk on his own accord, Gaius was able to use his magic to lift himself out of the seat that he could escort Melina.

Messmer hated treating Melina like a child , but he trusted her care to no one, not even himself in some days. Only his two closest companions would he dare allow alone with, though she swore the safety of her friend, the Dragon Priestess Lansseax. The dragons were a considerable threat to their mother. One that she would eventually look to tame.

"Are you okay?" Rellana asked as she helped Messmer stand and to his chair where he could rest.

"They writhe within me," gasped Messmer. He sat down on his chair with his face in his hand. "I've begged my mother to take them from me."

Rellana placed her hands on Messmer's cheeks to comfort him in his agony. Tears were in his one eye that was replaced by Marika's grace.

"Oh mother! Why hath thou forsaken me so?" cried Messmer. "Why canst thou not rent this serpent from within my breast?"

"Calm yourself," said Rellana. "This war won't last so much as a fortnight."

"Of course, you would believe that," said Messmer.

"How could it not? We're taking them completely by surprise," said Rellana.

When his mother gave him this task, Messmer expressed his concern. "Who would follow me?" he asked of which Marika replied to not worry so much about it . Speak truth and allow grace and the Greater Will to guide those who wished to believe in the cause to come to him. So he did. And what great blessing of Grace that not only did people come to follow him, they came in multitudes. Even a Carian princess herself had come to stand by his side.

Ten years his senior, there was an allure to her that Messmer grew infatuated with over the years, but their individual loyalties kept them apart. For now, her service was split between the duties to two queens. When such a thing happened, one might love one and not the other. So far, it seemed Rellana's love was not to Marika. If not for Messmer, she might not have come at all. She was curious where this all might lead to and wished to test and judge Marika's character and claim to the title as ruler. That was what her sister sent her to do, and Rellana intended not to betray that order.

"The only thing that matters is Melina is safe and free from anything that would prevent her fulfilling her purpose," said Messmer.

"Whatever you wish, Messmer. In the meantime, I have some business to attend," said Rellana.

"Have you thought on Mother's offer?"

Rellana laughed, "Her 'offer?' Surrender my title and serve as your blade? What sort of offer is that? I'm not interested in being your lap dog."

"What about... that night?"

"That? You're nothing more than a boy, Messmer. If you think such an affair was meant to last, you are joking. But don't you worry. Our alliance will have something come of it. Your mother will not regret considering my family her allies," said Rellana. "Just promise me that when we launch the attack , you will withhold your power ?"

"Yes... I don't have a fondness for the Hornsent, but you're right. They do not deserve such wrath," said Messmer.

"Imagine such a power. The Liurina, the Lands-Between, this Realm of the Hornsent? Bayle. Placidusax. The Beast Men of Farum Azula? None of them would stand between us with such might. I understand it's not within your mother's interest to spare the Hornsent, but I promise, it will be good for us to do so," said Rellana.

In the meantime, Gaius used his gravity magic to help him walk, but it was a laborious task to retain his concentration. But a moment alone with Melina made the burden well worth it. He had a thousand questions for her , but felt too afraid to ask them. Melina wasn't one or words or opening up to anyone, much less a young captain with a slight infatuation. Messmer would never permit it and the less said about Marika, the better. Besides, it didn't seem Melina knew all that much about Melina. While Messmer tried to give her a slight hint of freedom and knowledge to how the world work, Marika was haughty and paranoid.

None could blame her of course.

So, the captain was left in possession of his unanswered questions. Still, he could at least get to know the part of her he was permitted to see.

"I don't think you need to return to your chambers," said Gaius.

Melina was puzzled by this statement.

He didn't look directly at her, but towards the stables of Shadow Keep. Whoever it was that made the albinorics, made them beautiful and fair to look upon. His long silver hair and pale skin seemed to glimmer in the moonlight. And his face did not sport even a beard yet, for he himself was only a lad of sixteen. Yet even still, he won a great victory before and friendship of Messmer, which at least allowed Marika's tolerance of him.

"My brother asked me to," she replied.

Gaius smiled, "Of course, if it is your wish to do so, then I will bring you there. I merely said you don't need to return. I think I'd rather we take the long way though. If you care to go that way."

Melina hesitated, "I'm not sure your friend likes me well enough."

Gaius chuckled, "Of course not! He doesn't like anyone. Come. I promise you won't be harmed with me around."

There was never any question of that. This was one of numerous times Gaius had her in his care and he always ensured her safety first.

Back in the stables, Gaius's wild boar pranced around upon seeing his friend and gave a gentle snort. When he entered the pen to feed it some apples , the boar knocked Gaius over into the mud . He laughed as he pet its head. Gaius called the animal his "other half" as he depended upon him fully to at last move free.

"Ease yourself, my friend," said Guais petting the boar on the nose and offering the apple. "Just a moment."

He wiped himself down, then turned to Melina.

"I have something for you. If you agree, of course," said Gaius.

"You don't have to," she said.

"It's okay. I can endure the pain for a bit," he replied. "It would mean much you at least consider my gift."

He took Melina to the barn where there was but one single steed. It was a small horse, no bigger than a pony with two horns upon its head. It approached her and placed its head near her to examine her, as though judging her character.

Melina gasped and backed away from it. Horns like that meant the creature had at some point come into contact with the crucible. Guias calmed her by wrapping his arms around her as she whimpered in fear.

"Its okay. No need to fear him . I know what your mother taught you, but it's not the creations of the Crucible that are inherently evil," said Guais. He took her hand and placed it against the horse's nose.

Melina felt his soft coat and soon her fingers massaged him. The horse too was uncomfortable from this.

The horse moved his nose to push more against Melina's touch. Soon, she forgot this gentle creature was anything born of evil, and placed her head against his. Soon Melina relaxed, and allowed her fingers to rub the fine fur of the creature's coat.

"I'm told you were meant to one day place a Lord on the throne."

"So says mother," said Melina.

" It's said that being chosen by one of those creatures is a sign one possesses the strength and heart of a Lord," said Gaius.

"Am I to trust the entirity of my purpose to the guidance of a horse?"

"He knows a man's character, Melina. Take care of him, and he will show you the way."

"Gaius, I know you're fond of me, but..."

"It's alright," said Gaius. "Your mother wouldn't approve an albinoric."

"It's not that. I have seen the visions of fire."

"Of course. Your brother speaks of when the Hornsent will burn under his blaze. Though, it doesn't seem he intends to carry such a thing out. I hope not, at least. Genocide is a brutle business and is never justified, but I fear holding back might cost more lives."

"I am worried about my brother but speak of other matters. The age we look to build too will burn and I with it as it is necessary to seat a new lord with a new order. If you see this Lord of mine riding upon this steed, it may very well mean that I have fulfilled my purpose and am no longer part of this world," said Melina.

"I don't accept that," said Gaius.

"I'm sorry..."

"No! Not sorry. I..." said Gaius. His fists clinched. "I'm tired of your mother's games! I'm tire of her ambition and everyone else's blood! And I will kill any creature I see riding that steed if it be not you. Lord or no lord."

"This is not your choice to make , commander," said Melina.

"Is it yours?"

Melina bit her lip, "I don't know."

"Why is it that she wishes you live for her, but yet does nothing for you?" cried Gaius.

"I'm sorry."

"Promise me then. Promise me that you won't surrender to fate. Do only things of your own will. Promise me! Do not become like Messmer, so enamored with his Mother that he cannot act in his best interest or the interest of anyone else. Do you promise?"

Melina felt conflicted, but Gaius' revelation seemed to wake something up within her. She could not explain it, even if she tried.

"I promise," said Melina.

"Then allow me to profess my love to you, daughter of Marika," said Gaius.

Despite her worry for her brother, Melina allowed Gaius's embrace and kiss. A naive part of him wished their love could bridge Marika's disdain for his race.

"And I pray for your return, Commander," replied Melina.

Again, the things made so hard and fixed cannot be parted, as many be seen of gold, how firm and fixed is it in the fire? - Last Will and Testament

Chapter Text

"Messmer? Messmer!" said Guais.

Messmer lifted his head.

"I'm sorry, old friend. I must have been lost in thought," he replied. "How long has it been?"

"Hours. Rellana is nowhere to be found," said Guais.

"She said she had another matter to attend to, and Mother told me to wait until she returned."

"I see. And how long will she be gone? The rituals will only last a few days. We don't have long to take advantage."

"I'm well with waiting. Or never at all. She wants an era of peace and prosperity but will sanctify it with the blood of those she hates," said Messmer. "I think you and I have an issue with this campaign."

Guias nodded, "I was always taught to fight with honor. I suppose that doesn't matter."

"Perhaps Marika knows too well that those determined to live without grace cannot be persuaded otherwise."

When Messmer opened his eye, he was met with a guest—a blond-haired man with his hands behind his back. His hair had a cut of a bowel, and he smirked to show his arrogance.

"And who is this man to speak to me as though I needed his council?" said Messmer.

"Forgive me, Messmer. I am Queenlign. I am of one of the noble families of Leyndell. I have heard a rumor that there is to be a great happening about to occur. One where Queen Marika will ascend to godhood."

"So they say."

"So it is. I know she orchestrates the former ruler ousted from Leyndell and supplanted her Great Tree with one of her own. A towering, golden one full of life and magnificence," said Queenlign. "Truly looking to be the symbol of a great order. And I have come here to pledge myself to this cause."

Messmer looked at Guias, and Guias back at Messmer. Neither were impressed with this man and the manner in which he spoke. Sure, there was a great promise that came with this thing that Marika dubbed the "Erdtree." It would serve as the seat of her might. And, in many ways, it was her. At least, it was made from her own flesh, which she grew until it towered over all the Lands-Between.

Messmer bore no love for the Hornsent, but he did not despise them either, as did his mother. And so, as the eve of the great plan came about, Messmer hesitated. What was to come here was death itself, now controlled by Marika.

"This is no holy war," said Messmer.

"You're joking. The Hornsent are heretics to the fullest, and you won't consider their purge an act of righteousness? Are you certain you could even call yourself worthy of this act?"

"And who would come and do it for me? You?"

"I don't know who you are, Messmer, or why Queen Marika came to favor you so, but I do understand that there are many who have not nearly the power and influence as you and would not hesitate one moment to send their armies rushing over those fields in a red wave of fire," said Queenlign.

Messmer's hand was around Queenlign's throat, squeezing it until the arrogant knight was to his knees.

"Who I am is the son of Marika. You wish to join my ranks, then I suggest you learn some respect," said Messmer.

"Forgive me… I didn't know. I swear," said Queenlign.

Messmer let him go, "Now you do. I'll accept you in my ranks, but show me no more this face of disrespect. Now, get out of here."

"Ready the men. There is no way we can avoid doing this much longer," said Messmer.

"Of course," said Guias.

When he returned to the keep to prepare himself to follow the army, Melina was standing in front of his throne with her head lowered. She hadn't returned to her room when he told her to. He might have been angry at this, but his scouts reported that she was riding the fields with Guias and was with him the whole time. That stupid love-blind fool needed a good talking to! And if he so much as touched Melina inappropriately, it was hell enough to pay for such a transgression.

Alas, Messmer also could not blame them. Melina seemed not in the least bit harmed, so whatever happened was at least consensual. The eve of war made things difficult. And Guias was a man deeply in love about to set off to battle. How, as a man, could he not choose to spend it with the girl who caught his infatuation?

"What do you need, Little Sister?" asked Messmer, though hoping it was quick. If there was any other time, he'd give her his fullest attention, but in the wake of a forthcoming battle, he could allow nothing to delay him. Soldiers expected their commanders to come with them. Bleed and die with them. Not like those Hornsent who had always allowed their own intellectuals to decide the course of others, and yet they themselves never had to bear the consequences of those same horrid ideas.

If there was a battle that Messmer would not himself dare engage in, then neither is for his men to do so.

"I beg of you, Brother, to not give into your anger," said Melina.

"Dear sister, there is nothing that the Hornsent can do to make me angry enough to lose control. We do this for Mother, who is kind and loving," said Messmer.

"And so it is for you to be cruel and full of hate in her stead," said Melina.

"Melina..."

"I love Mother. There is nothing she can do to make me feel otherwise. But I hate what she does to you. Please, promise me that whatever you see within the bowels of their territory, you will remember that it is Mother's pain and not your own."

"I don't understand why you are asking me this."

"Please, Messmer," said Melina throwing her arms around him and crying. "I fear I might be victim of your flame one day."

"Do not fear, Sister. There is nothing within your nature to do that I would ever turn my flames against you," said Messmer. "You are my second half. The one who sees the visions of fire with me. I will do nothing that won't allow me to return to you. Now, be patient. I won't be long."

Under the shadow of the great tower, Rellana walked, holding a torch up close to the cliffs.

"Are you sure about this, Rellana?" Moonrithyll asked. "I'm never comfortable going behind Messmer's back."

"We were asked to come here by Queen Marika, and Messmer worships her. I doubt he'll stay angry for long," replied Rellana.

As she looked up at the walls and listened as the festival music echoed over them and the clap of thunder from the dancing lion's ritual, Rellana hoped that whoever this "ambassador" from the Eternal Cities was, they would come soon.

It was odd enough that Marika contracted her a Carian Princess to undertake this "secret" mission. Rellana was never quiet about her doubts and often questioned the morality of this so-called "purge" and was critical of Marika's claim as an empyrean. The Hornsent were horrible brutes and should have their rule toppled, but Marika's demand that the two Carian princesses surrender their claim to the throne was far too unreasonable.

How dare she! Not after she sent her champion Radagon against them did she have the right to make any request from them. And when Messmer told Rellana that it was Marika who dispatched the queen who sat under the Great Tree in front of Leyndell, she was all the more determined not to surrender anything.

Marika was more a child than a queen. A manipulative little child.

And Rellana was certain as she stood outside of Belurot tower that she herself was now being manipulated. The entire set up bore Marika's signature: secrecy and her only instruction was a cryptic message left in Rellana's helmet that offered only enough to intrigue, but never grasp the full picture.

"I was told you would come alone."

Rellana drew out her twin blades and responded to the voice in the darkness, "If Marika thinks that I would dare go come alone because she says so, then she's more of a fool than I tell people."

"Ha! I won't require you and your dog to sheath your weapon, Princess, but I will ask you to lower it."

"Show yourself first."

"You're more of a fool than I tell people."

Rellana narrowed her eyes, "What do you know about me?"

"That you're boring! Now lower your weapon so we can chat as proper, professional women. Otherwise, your lap dog will die first, and you can watch."

Rellana lowered her guard, and... nothing! She looked at Moonrithyll and he back at her.

"Well? Where are you?" said Rellana.

"Here!"

The voice was a whisper in Rellana's ear, coming from behind. She rolled forward and turned to face the stranger with her swords drawn.

"I thought we'd agree you would lower your weapon," said the woman.

"Tell me why I should not kill you where you stand," said Rellana.

"Because I haven't done anything yet. Though, I would be poised to change that stance if you don't suddenly start acting intelligent."

"I'm not in the mood for this."

"Oh please, are you going to go back to your sister? And tell her what? That you had an opportunity to find out who Marika really is because, for the first time, someone didn't give a damn about your position? Isn't that why she sent you? To find Marika's secrets?"

"Who I am is the Princess of..."

"Oh please, if I didn't care for your title before, what makes you think saying it will change that? So, don't you want to know about this Marika?"

"I know well enough that Marika craves power. Nothing more than that."

"Yes, but what you don't know is why. More importantly, why should you care? Or are you more interested in showing her son his way around the bedroom, thinking he knows anything? He doesn't. He's an animal that acts on instinct."

"Messmer is no animal."

"He's the son of one. A rabid one at that. But what she wants you to see, I think, will make you at least understand how the dog was infected," said the woman.

"Who are you?"

"You can call me Alecto. Now? Shall we?"

Moonrythill nodded, assuring Rellana that he was always by her side.

They entered, and Rellana's foot struck against the body of one of the guards. When Moonrythill rolled him over, the head nearly came off from a gash to the throat. He looked over at Rellana, who was more than tempted to leave. There was an odd smell throughout the place, which was something of a damp, musty stench.

This was all without mentioning their host, who was less than courteous. The name "Alecto" was a striking one, which, to the best of Rellana's knowledge, was a self-proclaimed "judiciary of the gods." Whatever that meant. It at least explained the woman's rudeness. If someone could kill gods, what was a queen to them?

She bore it if only to see what game Marika was playing with her.

"You'll not need to worry about any guards here. The 'patients' however..."

"Patients?"

"Do keep on your guard, Princess," said Alecto.

Renalla had no experience with prisons. They were places of despair where one's entire identity and sense of humanity were stripped away without discernment. Guards, as well as prisoners, were sentenced to this terrible fate. For her, despite her awareness of her many flaws, Rellana did not wish to have happened to her, but she couldn't afford to let this opportunity see what was within the mind of Queen Marika.

Deeper and deeper they went. Flies buzzed around as the smell grew stronger. And somewhere within the darkness, she could hear the moans and gasps of the so called "prisoners."

There were jars everywhere, which confused Renalla. Moonrythill examined one, feeling along the outside edge before the jar seemed to move. He looked back at Renalla, who gripped the hilts of her twin swords. Even Alecto, who stood some distance ahead, turned and waited with her dagger drawn.

Moonrythill dug his fingers into the wax seal on top, peeling away the edges that he could lift the lid. He let out a cough before he turned his head away with his hand over his mouth.

When Rellana got close enough to peer over the rim of the jar, she spotted a mass crammed within. She squinted her eyes, not sure what she was looking at. It was pink, fleshy substance and it was breathing with a laborious weeze. And then it turned to look at her with a faint face squished down by a membrane before it started to wail with the cries of an infant.

Rellana stuttered back as Moonrythill sealed the lid.

She took a moment, almost feeling as though she might faint as Moonrythill looked around the chamber. He then said, "Princess."

The light from to lantern reflected up at the ceiling where there were hundreds and hundreds of jars, big and small, hanging by chains from the ceiling. More yet stacked to the ceiling of the cavern.

It took a moment for Rellana to speak again. "Moonrythill... I need you to go back to Shadow Castle and demand at once to see Messmer."

"And tell him what?" Moonrythill asked.

"I don't know!" shouted Rellana. Her entire body was shaking so hard she couldn't even stay on her feet.

"Come on, Princess. Why don't we see our way out?" said Alecto. "I think you've seen enough to understand Marika's point."

Rellana didn't remember leaving the gaol. By the time she was aware, they were outside again just as the sun rose in the east. She was leaning against the cliff face, rocking with her arms wrapped around her knees. Moonrythill handed her a flask of water, which she drank down in large gulps.

She could barely breathe, and each time she blinked, it seemed she was back in that dreaded cavern, hearing the shrieks of that thing.

"That was one of Marika's people. Well, what's left of them, at least," said Alecto.

"Why?"

"The Hornsent thought they could create a saint who would serve as the center of their faith and the distributor of the crucible's blessings," said Alecto.

"Was that a child?"

"It could have been. Marika was a child when they did this to her," said Alecto. She squatted down in front of Rellana. "When she emerged, it was said that Marika was an adolescent girl, but her mind acted more like that of a five- or six-year-old. Playing with dolls and having meltdowns over the slightest annoyance. The Hornsent called her profane 'birth' a miracle. The real miracle was that they didn't try this ritual again. I hope that some of them realize how horrid it is. All that you saw in there are just the leftovers. Abandoned and left to rot after they got out of it what they wanted. Though some of their potentates are still operating, I heard."

Alecto stood and looked towards the sunrise. She shook her head and pushed back the shedding of tears, "So many sacrifices. Just to find her."

"So, now I understand why you're here. You judged them."

"That I did. Unfit to live even as slaves," said Alecto.

"Tell Marika that I will join Messmer and see to their end."

"Princess," said Moonrythill. "She's asking you to surrender your title and ties to the Carian family."

"My titles? This is what the Carian family had been indifferent to for all these years! If they could not come for themselves to see what was happening here before dismissing Marika's plea for help, then I'm ashamed to call myself one," said Rellana. "Will you tell her, Alecto?"

"Of course."

"We'll bring one of them with us. It's time Messmer and Melina know the truth."

Chapter Text

Messmer may have taken great pains to hold Melina in the confines of Shadow Keep for her own safety, but Melina's destiny and purpose, given by her mother, fated her always to be a wanderer. One whose resources to escape her brother's protection to see the wider world far exceeded his resources to stop her. Sometimes, it came with the help of good friends, but not always. And it wasn't certain how much Messmer knew about the extent of these little escapades. He was more than aware of her relationship with Gaius and didn't seem to stop it so long as his commander respected Melina. (Of course, they agreed not to mention the night before.)

Today, the call of her curiosity and interest took her to the south. These wanderings had no explanation. No call for order motivated them. Only the urge to see what lay in the great expanse of the Lands-Between and the whispers of her mother's voice, even in her absence.

Melina's thoughts were soon interrupted by the snort of something from behind. She looked back and saw the gentle friend Gaius had previously introduced to her.

"What further do you have to do with me?" Melina asked the animal. He approached her and butted his nose against her open hand before leaning against her with his head resting against her shoulder. "Mother wouldn't allow me to have you. Not when you have the mark of the Crucible's divinity. I know not the nature of her prejudice, but I suspect it is a great wound that causes her significant sorrow. Still, I suppose it would do no harm if I had you in my company, at least for this journey. It is both of us who seek the same thing, are we not?"

Melina moved her hand over his coat and felt the imperfections of raised scars under it. There was a sense that this creature was indeed more than he seemed. Gaius did not exaggerate his intelligence, at least. It was like the beast came from another time before Marika and perhaps from the great storms that lay beyond time. This revelation was further punctuated when she heard the creature's name, "Torrent." And she sensed his many masters before he came to her.

But Melina would never be his master. That was not necessary when the two shared a single goal.

"You are indeed an ancient, wise being, Torrent. I suspect there is not a single grain of sand your hooves have not touched. Very well, gentle creature. Let our destinies be now entwined in an accord. I shall let no harm come to you as you carry me across the lands. If it is that I fail in that promise, then I will deliver unto the wretched fiend that which he deserves," said Melina. "Let us seek now the one who would be Lord for Mother's sake. Today, I searched for a place where none willingly went. To the land of mist and fog. No, I do not believe a Lord is there, though he may call himself one. Mother tells me that it is a lesson there that she says must be fully seen and understood."

Even without tack or saddle, Torrent allowed Melina to ride. For once, her thoughts were less on the burden of her purpose but more on the relatable thought of how she would look to hide this creature from her mother.

Melina knew this part of the realm only by rumor. None ventured there among the Hornsent. She had heard the name of what has presumed its sole occupant as Midra, an intellectual sage who had contributed much to the advancement of Hornsent society and was overcome with his delusion. Melina did not know why her mother wished her there and not by Messmer's side. But she felt uneasy as the paths grew dark, and the trees began to shape themselves into perverted twisted trunks that lingered their shadow over the road.

"Mother," whispered Melina. "If he is a false lord like you say, then what more is there for me to understand?"

"My daughter, I have conceived your body from the Rune of Death itself. It is for you to understand the ruin which shall never be allowed. Now go to that false Lord and deliver to him what is rightly his. Deliver to him destined death."

Torrent, nayed, which Melina comforted by stroking his mane. For whatever reason, she felt a sense of fear, unlike the one she had ever felt. She had always been sure of her birth as the child of a Great Rune itself and her mother, who would be a goddess.

The unlikely pair continued through the oppressive fog through a dreary road deeper into the swamp. And at length, they found themselves just within view of the silhouette of a melancholy house that belonged to the old sage. Melina felt an insufferable gloom within her spirit. Its bleak walls offered the most uninviting warning that she might proceed no further towards it. It seemed abandoned, yet it felt very much alive. Almost like she heard the gasps, sighs, moans, and soft cries coming from within its walls.

It wasn't long before Melina came near the gate; the only one who awaited her was a single pregnant woman.

"Good day to you," said Melina. "I am Melina, daughter of Queen Marika."

"I am aware of who you are and why you have come," said the woman with a slight smile cracking on the corner of her lips. "And if your mother thinks that Midra would be in his bed waiting for you, she's more of a fool than she looks."

"My mother is no fool. She has ordered that I bring Midra, who is his. I am determined to deliver it as deemed fit. If only to end his suffering," said Melina.

"Your mother isn't a goddess yet and has no right to command death to anyone. Midra's destiny is to endure," said the woman.

Melina heard a shriek, far more terrible than she had ever imagined. She covered her ears as it rippled through the air. And when it was done, Melina wasn't so sure why she was crying.

"I beg of you to let me pass and end this suffering."

"Midra takes upon himself the suffering of others. The frenzied flame will take their torment. Every sin, every curse. It will all be melted away. And by the touch of the Three Fingers, he shall be known as Lord."

The woman's eyes glowed yellow as the air began to wave, and the heat grew unbearable even for Marika's Harald of death. Torrent nayed and backed away as the flames grew and soon took off with Melina.

Melina dared not tell the animal to stop.

As swift and determined as Torrent was, the creature could not escape the flames as they surrounded her in whisps. It burned into her flesh, and Melina fell off of Torrent, screaming in agony as she reached the edge of the forest. Torrent, too, lay there, squirming in pain.

"Dear Friend!" cried Melina as she mustered every ounce of strength to stand on her own two feet. "Dear Torrent, please hold on. I will find my brother. He'll help us."

Burned, but not to the point where she was helpless. In agony, but Melina pushed it aside that she might take one painful step after another toward Shadow Keep.

Messmer was surprised when Rellana threw open the tent flaps where he and Gaius delayed their attack. Her face showed her fury when she realized the two men were speaking of chess of all things! Not the war. Not Marika's wishes.

"Why in Marika's name have you not moved this army?" said Rellana.

Messmer pinched the bridge of his nose. "What my mother wants is a massacre."

"And she ought to have one, Messmer. The Hornsent deserve nothing less," said Rellana.

"These are people, Rellana. Men, women, and children," said Gaius.

Rellana grabbed Messmer's arm and pulled him out of his seat.

"You dare handle me like this," He shouted, pulling his arm away. Rellana slapped him.

"How dare you refuse to see Moonlythell when I sent him to you. Now you will listen to me," said Rellana. She let him go when they reached the outside so as not to embarrass the lad too much in front of his men. Messmer, despite his rough exterior and the serpents writhing on the inside, still held part of his innocence. The Hornsent were more than careful to hide all their dirty little secrets from him. Make sure that he was led to believe there was still a shred of humanity within them worth saving.

"What in all the Lands-Between has gotten into you," said Messmer.

"They killed your mother's people, Messmer," said Rellana. "All of them."

"What?"

"They killed her people. They tortured them and then threw them away like garbage," said Rellana. She sighed, closing her eyes. This time, she needed to remember the awful sight. Shortly after Moonlythell left, she had asked Alecto to bring her back to the goal, this time to show her everything. She needed to see everything. The jars that were stacked from floor to ceiling. The smell of death itself. The maggots that grew in the jars to feed prisoners. The whips that tore open the flesh of the victims. The knives they used to butcher off limbs. She asked Alecto a thousand questions so that she could know the entire thing from beginning to end. Every little detail, Rellana absorbed that she could speak only the truth.

There was only one thing Alecto said Rellana couldn't do: She couldn't hear their screams. The Numan woman could, though. She described them as a wailing song of despair and pain. Alecto was convinced; Marika heard them all the time.

"They chopped them up and put them in jars with the prisoners. All to sanctify the sinful and make a saint from the suffering," said Rellana. "Your mother was born from those experiments."

Messmer's lips trembled. He knew the truth when he heard it, and this was not the type of story that Rellana would ever make up. She would never side with Marika. Not for all the gold or all the knowledge of magic the world had to offer. The trembling fear behind Rellana's eyes.

Messmer clutched his chest as he felt the serpent tearing out through his skin. He would not stop it anymore.

"Where are they?" Messmer gasped in pain. "Where are my mother's people."

"They're gone, Messmer. All of them. Whatever is left of them is merged with other beings. There's nothing of their own will left," said Rellana. She placed a hand on his cheek. "Your mother is suffering, Messmer."

"Gaius... light the furnaces. I want every inch of their lands burning to the ground," said Messmer.

"Messmer, you don't answer anger with genocide," said Gaius.

"They deserve to die. All the Hornsent deserve death itself. Let their whole world burn," said Messmer. He then shouted to his bewildered men, "Spare no one! Not even one child. Show no mercy to these graceless abominations! Do they want the Flame of the Crucible? Then let them feel its heat."

And so Messmer's armies marched forward through the plains of what would soon be sealed away. They burned the entire place to the ground. Forests, fields, villages. There was no one who was spared as the flame spread in an uncontrolled inferno.

It was no war. A war suggested that there were two sides to the conflict battling against each other - some winning and some losing. No, this was an annihilation. Soon the forests were replaced with corpses impaled and hung upright as a trophy of Messmer's madness.

All feeling within the man was lost.

Rellana could only watch, tears in her eyes as she couldn't believe what she had done.

"Oh, sister, why didn't we listen?" she cried as she remembered Rennala describing a blond-haired girl who requested an audience.

"It was so odd," Rennala described. "She had to have been at least sixteen. And at first, she seemed so well-spoken. But it wasn't long for her to break character. As soon as the men began to harshly question her, even mock her, she grew overwhelmed. Her spirit broke so bad and she was sitting on the ground, rocking back and forth and sucking her thumb like a small child."

The other members of the academy scoffed and mocked the strange sight and dismissed her as a lunatic.

Rennala said that she knew one thing for certain: something had happened to that girl. And while she could do nothing about it at the time - herself being no more than a child with her claim to royalty challenged at every turn - she never stopped talking about the pathetic sight and how she planned to do something as soon as she could woo the support of the academy.

That day didn't come soon enough for Marika. Her armies, led by her champion Radagon, soon showed up at the doorstep of the academy, ready to punish Liurnia for the sin of not listening.

"Rellana," said Moonlythell. "Messmer called our forces to... um... clear up the back side of his advancement. It's time to go."

"Ow, let me go!"

Rellana put up her hand to stop Moonlythril from saying anything more. She walked out of her tent and saw Carian soldiers handling a little red-headed boy.

"Stop!" she ordered. "Radahn, what are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" Radahn retorted.

Rellana grabbed her nephew by the wrist and dragged him back into her tent and ordered everyone to clear out.

"This is a war camp, Radahn. This no place for a child," she scolded.

"I'm not a child!" he shouted as he pulled his hand away. "Mother said you were about to do something foolish. And no, she didn't send me here. I came on my own."

Rellana stared at him a moment without knowing what to say at first. How Rennala knew what she did was a mystery. Still, it was a bit of a comfort knowing that her sister had some interest in her.

"Radahn, this isn't the rabble of bandits I took you along with before. This is the Hornsent."

"Why? Why do you have to go against the Hornsent?"

"Come with me. And try not to be too upset," said Rellana.

She didn't wish to show him. He was just a boy, no more than twelve, but Rellana didn't feel she had much choice. If Radahn had chosen to come all this way to stop her, then it would have been best if he knew everything to make up his own mind.

The smell hit Radahn pretty quickly, and when he commented on it, Rellana told him that it was part of a terrible secret.

When the torches were lit, there was a terrible cry from an infant. Rellana ordered the perfumers not to silence it.

"It's okay," said Rellana as she let the perfumers pull back the blanket.

Even with bits of the horrible fused flesh cut from it, the child was still terribly malformed, wrapped tight in bandages so its flesh didn't fall apart. Still, Rellana stroked its cheek before it grabbed her hand, desperate for a human touch. She kept smiling at it, giving the thing a friendly, gentle face to look upon.

"I know, little one. I know. But you're okay. You're safe here. See? I'm here again like I promised," said Rellana. She looked toward the perfumers and nodded so that they could apply their medications to ease the creature's pain.

Radahn watched the scene with his hands over his mouth. Rellana exchanged a look, her eyes full of fear and sorrow as, something that Radahn had never seen before in his aunt. He had long since thought that she was afraid of nothing.

"Come on," said Rellana, putting her hand around Radahn's shoulder to lead him away.

At first, neither Rellana nor Radahn spoke as they sat on the stairs of the Shadow Keep and watched the flames shooting up from the fields far away and the sun that was blocked out by the billowing smoke.

"What was that?" Radahn asked.

"It was a person," replied Rellana.

"Did the Hornsent do that?"

"They did."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Are they going to do that to you?"

"It is possible."

Radahn scooted closer to his aunt and laid his head against her shoulder. She embraced him, laying her cheek against his head with a tear rolling down them.

"Remember when I used to show you how to use the sword? Remember what I said? Does the ability to hurt come with a responsibility to use it justly? Marika has come so she can end this sort of thing. Under her, no one will ever have to suffer again like this. And she'll punish everyone who caused it."

"I'll follow Marika too. And end this for everyone."

Where is everyone?

Melina continued to push on, even as the pain grew too much. Surely, by now, one of Messmer's soldiers should have found her. They patrolled this area in large squads, all to keep the appearance that her brother still served the Hornsent. But there were none now. Had they found her, they'd have bandaged her wounds and brought her at once to her brother.

Soon Melina collapsed to her knees, "Mother... dear mother. I'm so sorry. I-I failed you. Where are you now? Please... I want my mother..."

Melina lay there, gasping for breath until she heard the cries at a distance.

"Messmer?" she said. She knew what that sound meant. He must have found what Marika wished him not to see. It was bound to happen sooner than later.

She would never reach the castle now through Messmer's wall of flames as they swirled about the plains. The Hornsent ran past her as she laid there, screaming for salvation from their saint. Children, cradled in their mother's arms cried out and their mothers tried to assure them that it was fine. They were safe. The Great Saint whom they had raised from imperfect, now perfect in everyway, would come for them. She would save them.

Melina closed her eyes as Messmer's flame carried itself over her, accelerated now by her kindling.

"Flee O' Hornsent. Flee or burn. Flee to that saint that you created through pain and torment. Flee to her that she can turn her wrath to vengeance and ascend to godhood over your corpses," said Messmer.

He watched as the fires danced up and the smoke blacked out the sun. It was only the beginning. Once they realized their saint wasn't about to save them, they would muster the survivors together and mount a resistance. And Messmer was more than ready for it.

The man, now surrounded by the serpants, walked through the charred remains. The smell of burnt flesh, the whimpers of the few survivors now in pain from his flame. He wasn't proud of this. As Gaius said, there wasn't any pride in such an act. He had set the world aflame and the consequences meant they would see nothing more than fractured grace.

Messmer would behold that grace forever in his right eye. Never to stray from that path and mark all who did not bear his mother's blessing for death...

"Messmer?"

The weak noise came from among the ashes. He recognized it even as the voice was damaged from swallowing the blackened smoke of his rage.

"No," said Messmer.

He clawed through the burnt ashes of Hornsent corpses, screaming Melina's name. He found her among them, with her legs and arms all blackened.

"No, no, sister!" Messmer cried as he cradled her in his arms.

"Are we to go back to mother now?" Melina asked.

"Mother..." gasped Messmer, realizing that Marika, now had began the ritual to build the gate. She would cross through it soon, and they, her children, weren't to ever see her again.

"Messmer?"

"Of course, little sister. Of course, we'll see Mother again. Rest now. I'll take you back home," said Messmer.

Melina gave a sigh as she closed her eyes, never to open them again. Messmer's shoulders fell, and his weeping was uncontrolled. He let out a wail of agony as she begged Melina not to go.

"Dear sister," he cried. "Please... sister. You see the flame with me. Don't leave me in this place. Please... O' Sister! Please, don't leave me to shoulder the visions alone..."

To an eternal being, the passage of time meant nothing. This was nothing short of a curse, Marika found. The memories of her shattered past were just as vivid as though they had happened the previous day. What started from that first horrid, painful blow of a festering whip and ended here as she crossed through that blood-soaked gate with threads that she weaved into the blessings and promises of gold.

And her beloved children. Marika allowed herself to think of them for a long time before tucking that memory away again. Of course, there were others that she would never speak of.

"Mama?"

Marika's back grew ridged at the sound of Miquella's pleading voice, and she clutched the tiny golden whistle close to her chest so that it might not be seen. He was never to approach his mother, especially when she was here to contemplate. But with his siblings all having left, the young Empyrean had nowhere else to turn.

"What is it, Miquella?" she asked, letting a slight tone of impatience in her voice.

"Malenia... she's hurting right now... I-I don't know what to do," said Miquella.

"Malenia is always hurting," said Marika.

"Please, Mama. She needs you," said Miquella.

Marika's heart softened just a smidgen. It was enough. She, like Radagon, wanted to give up on Malenia, as she was nothing more than a waste, according to the Greater Will. But... Marika couldn't. Again, a decision void of order, which she could not live with herself if she ever dared give in to any other way.

She knelt in front of Miquella and stroked his loose strand of hair behind his ear.

"Do you promise you'll care for Malenia? To never abandon her for any reason?"

"Of course," said Miquella.

"And when you are God, do you promise you'll find a consort for yourself who loves her as much as you do?" Marika asked.

"Yes!" said Miquella.

"Then that consort will be promised to you as you have promised me, my son."

When Marika reached Malenia's chamber, she was only half conscious. Miquella's sleep spell was enough to keep her from being fully aware but not enough to dream. The scarlet rot inflamed every nerve in her body, and blood began to seep out of the pours.

"Hush now, little guardian," said Marika as she lifted Malenia. She rocked the child, which caused Malenia to cry out. "For that is what you are. One day, you will be carried away on scarlet wings and feared like no other. Dear, beloved daughter, tremble no more. But for now, let me hold you, my dear, precious child. Let me hold you that my touch heal you again, as it always has."

Upon hearing her mother's voice and smelling her scent, Malenia calmed. Her breathing grew more robust and steady. She tucked her feet up in a fetal position and gave a satisfied sigh as she laid her head against her mother's breast.

Marika began to hum a gentle lullaby once sung in a now long-forgotten village.

Come into the Garden, Maud

For the black bat, night has flown

Come into the Garden, Maud

I am here at the gate alone. - Alfred Lord Tennyson

Chapter Text

Thirteen years later...

"The Primeval Current would represent a significant opportunity to advance our understanding of not only our current glintstone sorceries but all schools of magic connected to it. Possibly even laying the groundwork to see entirely new concepts within these realms developed. One that can again rise our academy to the respectable place it once enjoyed," said Sellen.

The entire debate parlor was alive with wild enthusiasm for Sellen's words. Her speech generated applause from the audience.

Her opponent, Lazuli came to the podium next and tapped the edge of his paper against the slanted wood panel.

"It seems, Sellen, that you imply that our previous academy had already sunk in the lake," he said.

There were some laughs, which Sellen responded to with a polite nod, though Ranni was certain the old witch was seething on the inside. She was never one to stand for people challenging her theories in her quest to "elevate the status and respect among the academy." In reality, she suggested that the position held by the Carians and their influence over the academy was an outdated concept and should be ruled by the academics responsible for the next generation of practitioners.

Right or wrong, for Sellen's efforts to carry any weight, she hinged on uncovering a discovery of equal or greater significance than Rennala's monumental discovery the powers within the moon itself. Sellen, often considered brilliant by some for her theories on the primeval current, soon revealed that it was her only idea. Incapable of moving past this concept, despite warnings of the academy, caused her to fixate upon it, proving, at least to Ranni, that her brilliance was largely artificial. It was only a matter of time before her ambition overruled common sense, and she preached her theories as though they were already proven.

"Of course, we ought to honor and acknowledge the times when great discoveries were made and our knowledge advanced quickly. But, most progress comes slow and steady, and not with disregard to caution; we can only hope to be lucky enough not to cause a cataclysm. Continuing the branches of study introduced by our Headmistress, Queen Rennala, will keep this academy busy for centuries."

"Ah, yes," said Sellen. "And where is our Headmistress? In fact, when did she last set foot here? Does anyone even recall?"

Sellen's attention turned to Ranni sitting in the back of the debate parlor.

"Luner Princess Ranni! Perhaps you would be so kind as to shed some light on this matter."

The room went quiet as Ranni stood.

"I am under the impression the primeval current and the ethics of its research is the matter of this debate. Being as is, all other subjects are outside the scope of such discussion. But if it pleases you, Sorceresss Sellen, show me why such exploration of the primeval current has captured thy attention so, when all others who sought its power have spoken only in theory with yet to produce their findings," said Ranni.

All eyes were back on Sellen, who quivered at the statement of truth. There were no papers with substantial proof of what Sellen claimed. The two sorcerers who had sought to prove them had long disappeared without publishing their findings.

Satisified, Ranni exited in a round of applause.

Blaidd waited for her out by her personal carriage, which was in the courtyard of the academy. Students rushed back and forth, heading to their lectures and classes. Several scholars were surrounded by their captivated pupils, who were far too starry-eyed with a fascination with the manner of their speech and not the practicality of their hypothesis.

"Well said," said Blaidd as he opened the carriage door. "Of course, it's rather convenient that Azur and Lusat 'disappeared' under your influence."

"As my stepmother would always say, some ideas and methods are reprehensible."

"She should be the one to talk," scoffed Blaidd.

"Maybe a bit hypocritical, yes, but between what Renna told me, things the Golden Order failed to completely cover over, and what Marika had simply let slip, it is apparent to me that she stood no chance to be anything but a tyrant," said Ranni. Her hand rubbed over the leather cover of an old tomb that Renna had carefully documented everything she recalled. The Golden Order didn't intend for anyone to find out much about Marika's life, but they could do nothing to destroy the memories of someone who knew her personally. "I cannot imagine what it was like to have the last truly happy moments of life being when one was a child."

"Did Renna ever reveal why the Hornsent thought Marika was some kind of saint?"

"She doesn't know for sure but speculates that it has something to do with Marika's status as an empyrean. It scares me, Blaidd. This dark path that I must walk. I'm not sure where it might lead me or what I might find myself having to do," said Ranni.

Ranni tried to remain stoic even as their carriage crossed the gates along the road towards Leyndell. She was reluctant to come back here and often looked to avoid it whenever she could find an excuse. She returned more for the sake of her half-siblings, whom she made a concerted effort to remain in contact with. She invited them often to the Carian Manor to have much-welcome company.

Ranni loved their visits, and looked forward to them each time. Even her mother took particular interest in kindly Miquella. The two shared a significant conversation about the movement of the sun and the moon. She introduced the young demigod to the concept of an eclipse and all its implications and powers. Ranni walked in after a walk with Malenia to see Miquella had crafted a makeshift model of the firmanment on the floor. He asked Rennala questions and shifted the position of a plant pot or globe he used to represent the celestial bodies.

It brought Ranni immense joy to catch a glimpse of Rennala's former self, if only for a fleeting moment.

When they passed the Lift of Rolds, Ranni's heart skipped a beat. There was a moment that when the thought came to her mind that she might turn her carriage to the paths into the Forbidden Lands.

Part of Ranni's mind still imagined her little ones as babes, even though they were young women. Every year, she was permitted to travel to the Forbidden Lands during the winter solstice and only for a few hours to bestow her blessing on them. But that hour was a sliver of moonlit happiness that remained all she had left. It became her life! And it had already expired for this year, and she had already bestowed her blessing on her offspring. The tears were wiped away, and Ranni had to pretend that her heart wasn't crushed like this and her brief time with her two daughters was enough.

"It's okay. I was back there not two weeks ago," said Blaidd. "They are doing well."

Ranni closed her eyes with a smile.

"I feel such sense of jealousy to hear thee say such things! I am but a stranger to them. I love them with my entire being, yet they know nothing of me. Tell me about them, Blaidd. Tell me how they are while I am not present," said Ranni.

"Aurelia is a bit shy, even a bit timid. Aureliette? Well, she's the one most like you. The one with all the plans," said Blaidd.

Ranni had to laugh at that. Surely not traits they showed their mother during her brief visits. At that time, they seemed more to play a part in pleasing their mother, not realizing that there was no need to do that. They would wait dressed in their best clothes, and when their mother arrived, bow to her regarding her title. They referred to her as "Mother." Not "Mama" or any other informal speech to indicate familiarity. They asked her questions, and spent the alotted time with her, but had no true attachment.

As the gates of Leyndell came closer, Ranni wiped away that one tear and put on the mask of her proper poise. She tucked the thoughts of her little ones away for a time when she could let those memories free.

Today was special, not for her, but for her half-sister. Malenia was of an age that she could accept her engagement to Radahn, and their courtship formally began. It was why Sellen grew far more aggressive in pushing her theory, knowing that once a Carian married into Marika's family, her goal to overtake the academy would be far more challenging to achieve. And while Ranni knew this arrangement was wrong - not just in that Radahn and Malenia were half-siblings - it would also give Marika additional ability to influence the course of learning.

However, Ranni was well aware of the danger Marika posed, a danger that was far more predictable than Sellen's capriciousness. The graven witch's desires were clear, but her potential actions were a mystery. This forced Ranni to make a strategic decision to delay Sellen's support, despite the threat Marika posed to the academy and its teachings.

Letters between Ranni and Miquella seemed to avoid that topic altogether, maybe because his twin also wanted to avoid that topic. And Ranni couldn't blame Malenia. She was still young and already an accomplished swordswoman. She had other things on her mind and didn't wish to become distracted from her achievements. To much of Ranni's amusement, Miquella often hinted about having a secret crush on Radahn. But that was impossible to act on, as Miquella would never age. It was a fact already suspected, considering he seemed quite a bit younger than his twin, but as the years went by, it was blatantly obvious. As Malenia grew, entered puberty, and was now coming of age, Miquella remained always young.

"It's a puzzle, Blaidd," Ranni mused. "These curses that afflict Marika's children, they seem like fragments of her own being, torn and planted in her offspring. And I can't help but wonder about myself. I often feel anger towards her, yet there's a strange connection t o her.”

Given the occasion, Ranni might have expected that her sister was in her chambers, having a bath and preparing herself for the ceremony, but Ranni knew better. Instead of venturing inside Leyndell palace's maze of corridors and hallways, she instead found her sister out in the courtyard under the canopy of the Erdtree. Her master scolded her as he usually did. Not for her technique, as it wasn't often he saw those, but for her depreciation of herself and her demand for perfection in everything. It could be admirable in other circumstances, but Ranni didn't see it that way. There was nothing that Malenia ought to look to change about herself, and Ranni had told her this many times. Yet, her sister remained fixated on her tormenting disease.

"How can I protect Miquella if I rot away?"

Miquella wrote countless letters to Ranni, seeking specific materials within the Carian and Academy's grand libraries. And all had to do with the rot. He theorized that the ancient cities that once found themselves under the influence of the Scarlet Rot were somewhere under the Academy and promised Ranni a great secret about that path if she merely went to confirm it true. To Ranni's surprise, Miquella's theory was proven accurate. Though she could not stay long in the rot's choking miasma, it raised many questions. In that place, Ranni found not just decaying desolation but also life. Could it be that the Two-Fingers were wrong about the rot? Perhaps it wasn't merely just a vessel of destruction.

There was so much there, and Ranni was all too anxious to speak with her sister about it. But it had to be brought up in the most delicate way. Malenia was sensitive to the topic. Already, it ate away her arm and most of her childhood with it. A lot was riding on Malenia and Radahn's union being successful, and her fear of her disease only made this reluctance worse. And Malenia was the type who would take advantage of the fact she had the right to decline the engagement. While Malenia didn't outright say it, Ranni sensed her fear, not in her ability to be a wife, but in what might happen if "it"- the entity that looked to impose its will on her ever took control. Quite honestly, so did Ranni. Radahn kept saying his reason for choosing Malenia over Miquella was his plans for her, which was easy to discern required the rot. It was why Radahn's first gift to Malenia after she was promised to him was a master who had already shown his ability to control it. Maybe he could, perhaps he couldn't. Either way, Ranni had serious doubt that Radahn had any fundamental understanding of what he wanted to wield.

All Empyreans had their burden to bear. For Ranni, it was walking a path that was already proving itself to require much, and yet she had to walk it as though fully certain, even without full knowledge of where every twist in its road might lead and what more it was bound to ask for. For Malenia, it was her Scarlet Rot and her fear of its uncertainty. And for Miquella, it seemed his brilliance or, more accurately, his own awareness of it.

"Sister!" cried Malenia when Finlay pointed Ranni out to her. She didn't wait for Medjai to finish his lecture and properly dismiss her before she made her way across the yard.

The two embraced, and Ranni was rather impressed with how fine a young woman Malenia had become. Her hair was no longer patchy and tangled but grown out and well-groomed. Her gait showed no weakness; instead, she glided with every step. And her one hand had nails that, though short, were well manicured.

"I can't believe you came," said Malenia.

"Naturally, I wouldn't wish to miss this for the entirety of the stars, dear sister," said Ranni.

"I know you had other matters to attend, so I wasn't sure," said Malenia.

"Those are matters that can wait," said Ranni. She then pointed to Malenia's blade. "Well? Art thou willing to show thy sister a demonstration of thine skill?"

Of course, Malenia was thrilled. Aside from dear Miquella, who would support Malenia no matter what she wished, none of her other siblings seemed so interested in her passion.

As the match commenced between Malenia and Finlay, Ranni was in awe. Of course, she didn't know the first thing about swordsmanship, but she did spot the grace and elegance in Malenia's footing. It was more of a dance than a dual. Each touch of her blade against Finlay's gave Malenia the distance to where it was almost like her eyesight wasn't necessary. And while there was not meant to be one clear winner or loser, it was still obvious that Malenia contained the superior talent.

"Well," said Ranni, taking Malenia into an embrace. "Thou hath truly shown great talent."

Malenia was flattered to hear such a compliment.

Ranni then noted Malenia's blade, which was fashioned after the ones wielded by the albinorics. She pointed it out and asked about it since Marika had much to say about the species, and none of it was good.

"Oh," said Malenia. "Radahn gave it to me. I must say it handles quite well, but I still have so much to learn."

"Learning is not something that ever ends," said Ranni.

Of course, having lived her entire life in the palace, Malenia hardly needed anyone to guide her, but Ranni couldn't help it. As soon as Malenia returned to her, Ranni clasped her hand to lead her little sister to where they might speak in private. Ranni wasn't so keen on letting go of the old habits and memories of when Malenia needed someone to coddle her constantly. She still liked to be hugged, which she showed when Malenia rested her head against Ranni's shoulder as soon as they sat down.

"It is good to see thee doing well," said Ranni. When Malenia didn't respond, she was a bit concerned. "Sister?"

"Huh?" said Malenia.

"Don't say that thine ears are also not working," mused Ranni.

"I'm sorry. Medjai had insisted on a hard workout all morning," said Malenia.

"All morning? Today?" said Ranni.

Malenia wasn't saying everything.

"Malenia," said Ranni. She reached towards Malenia's collar, where she saw a bit of pink skin poking out. Malenia jerked away. "Please... I do want to see."

Malenia gave a heavy sigh as Ranni pulled back the loose cloth. On her shoulder, a rash appeared like a burn, oozing a clear film.

"Please don't tell Miquella," said Malenia. "Or mother."

"And why shouldn't I tell the two people most in the position of helping thee?"

"Because they'll do nothing but worry," replied Malenia, allowing a hint of frustration in her voice. "They can't help me."

Ranni wasn't sure she could disagree with that sentiment. While the prosthetic arm helped considerably improve Malenia's quality of life, the cure was far off. Miquella, too, expressed frustration, and Ranni couldn't imagine he didn't occasionally let that frustration show to his sister, who likely blamed herself.

"Doth anyone know?" Ranni asked.

"I have told Radahn several times. He said that it was fine. He doesn't want this to be a barrier to our union," said Malenia.

"What doth thou feel?" Ranni asked.

"I don't know," said Malenia.

It was hard to see what brought on the hesitation: whether it was a genuine reluctance to settle down or her fear of what the rot might do if she did. It wasn't as though Malenia received any encouragement to take any considerable reflection on the situation. Whatever the reason, Ranni doubted that Radahn had entirely revealed his plan to her. He didn't even disclose the entirity of this plan to his own Carina siblings, and perhaps it was that which Malenia refused to discuss, if she was even offered the chance to hear it at all.

"Well," said Ranni. "I will not pressure thee to speak on matters which thou art not comfortable discussing. I have promised thy brother some time as he advised there is a matter of great importance. And seeing him not here, I inquire where he could be found."

Miquella was under the canopy of the golden tree where, thirteen years earlier, Marika had made her promise of a great miracle. And so it was and a great multitude of people had come to witness it. They filled the pews of the open aired church and surrounded every space to have even a glance at the Empyrean with long gold lochs. They asked him questions and listened intently to his answers, and no one was barred from his presence. Nobles sat along side the commoners. Merchants stopped their mounts to see the commotion but soon found themselves capitvated by his words. Even prisoners, meant for their long exile to the Forbidden Lands managed to convince their wardens to let them stop and listen for a moment.

He spoke about love and how that would one day find itself at the root of the Erdtree as it was the fundamental foundation of the Golden Order. It was never his mother's will to see suffering within her age, but the will of those bereifed of grace who brought it about. And for a moment, Ranni was taken by the words her half-brother spoke so innocently. A world free of death and suffering appealed to the heart of her motherhood as her one desire for her own children.

"Extraordinary, isn't he?"

Ranni was so hypnotized by Miquella's grace and charm that she hadn't noticed Radahn standing behind her. Strangely, when she turned to see him, she couldn't feel that sense of resentment that once enveloped her entire heart. She felt no desire to speak harshly, lash out, or even say anything unkind, not even in jest. In fact, Ranni felt whole seeing her brother again.

"Truly, yes," she said.

"The only way Marika would allow him out of her sight was if myself or Malenia went with him. And Malenia has other duties to attend to right now," said Radahn.

Ranni smirked, "Oh? Well, I'll have thou know she's doing everything but. She's decided to spar with Finlay instead."

Radahn groaned and rubbed the back of his head. For once, he had hoped that Malenia would take something other than her swordsmanship seriously. A lot was counting on this going well, and if either side - the Carians or the Golden Order - sensed that something was off, they might push any excuse to dissolve the engagement.

"Maybe her mother ought to give her a talking to," muttered Radahn.

"Radahn, I care very deeply for my sister. It concerns me that she is still young and—though she does not show it—she is in great need of considerable care and attention," said Ranni.

"Miquella will cure her," said Radahn.

"Cure?" said Ranni, a bit puzzled. "I had thought that thou hath plans specifically for her."

Radahn looked confused and then smacked his forhead, "By Marika! That little scoundral! He charmed me again!"

Both siblings laughed as they were more than aware of their little brother's abilities. Perhaps they should have been more concerned, as such power wasn't a mere trinket. But Miquella meant well, indeed.

Didn't he?

Ranni grabbed Radahn's arm and pulled him away so they could think clearly again. As soon as they were away, Ranni's skepticism returned - as did her anger towards Radahn. But she tucked it aside for a moment.

"That is very concerning," she said.

"What?" said Radahn.

"Hath thou no awareness what just happened there?"

"I just said he took us both in with his charms."

"More so that he caused the both of us to forget ourselves. For a moment, thou were looking for a cure for Malenia. She cannot be cured. If she be cured, she'd cease to be an Empyrean. And then where would be thy plan?"

"As though you care anything about my plans!"

"I..." Ranni hesitated. "I don't. I don't care for thine plans, but that is not to say I do not care for thee. What is within thy plans is dangerous, but at the very least I can respect that thou hath given it some thought. The same cannot be said of Miquella."

"You're right. He's too much like Marika. I've seen what Marika does. Or, at least, can do," said Radahn.

"He cares deeply for his sister," said Ranni.

"He does. That's why he's trying hard to convince me to change my mind."

"That was no mere convincing," Ranni muttered. It was an entire alteration of Radahn's whole reality. He spoke about a cure like the thought came from himself. Radahn, for as long as Ranni knew him, never strayed away from his course of action and she couldn't imagine he would do so here either.

"Brother!"

Miquella came rushing towards them with his long golden lochs waving behind.

"Did you not see how many came? Just to see me! And when I spoke, they all listened," said Miquella, not taking even the slightest notice of Ranni.

"Indeed," said Radahn. "You were fantastic. You gave them hope where there was very little."

"The merchants invited me back to their camp that they could hear more of what I have to teach. Can you imagine it? They are not even from here and yet they are seeking the love of the Erdtree," said Miquella.

"Love of the Erdtree or perhaps looking to make a sale," scoffed Ranni.

"Sister! I didn't know that you were coming back," said Miquella.

"Of course I am. How could I have come to miss such an important moment for our families?" said Ranni.

"Yes," said Miquella, his voice showing a hint of jealousy.

"Come, you little one," laughed Ranni, embracing him. "I was looking forward to this miracle that thou had spoken about in thy letters."

"Look," said Miquella, pointing to the tree growing freely within the church. "I can grow my own tree. I can make my own age. Just as mother always said. And people believe in it. They come to hear my words. I..."

Miquella hesistated, looking back to ensure they were far enough away that Radahn couldn't hear.

"I could make for myself an age far greater than Mother's. One where everyone is so content, that they wouldn't find any reason to quarrel or challenge it. And I think I found even a consort worthy to be Lord over it," said Miquella.

Ranni, of course, knew that Miquella meant Radahn, but didn't dare correct him. His curse, which caused him to remain always a child, stood to reason that his mind too thought in those terms. It would be a bitter pill for the young Empyrean to swallow when he learned that Radahn had no interest in him but had his own plans, which didn't seem to involve anything of Miquella's ideals. But for now, there seemed no harm in letting the boy think whatever he wished.

"Godwyn is coming back, you know," said Miquella.

That name put a pain in Ranni's heart. She wasn't "present" when Godwyn said farewell to her, and she hadn't spoken to him since. She wasnt even sure where he was or what he was up to. She buried herself in her work and Godwyn in his. It left sort of a hole where the seemed no final resolution for Ranni to decide her feelings. There were times she wished to. It was terribly unfair that he hadn't even met their two daughters, and she couldn't imagine they weren't curious about him. Ranni, of course, told them nothing, believing there would be a day when time was plenty and they could discuss these things. But she needed certainty of their safety, that a visit long enough to tell them and truly guide them was possible. For now, they were just two little village girls who fretted over the stars, rather than the children of demigods.

"I suspect he might," said Ranni.

"You two ought to speak."

"I don't know, Miquella."

"No, you should. He still loves you, you know. He's given up being with other women, because he only wants to be with you," said Miquella.

Ranni chuckled, "Art thou attempting to charm me, Little Brother?"

"No, I am not," said Miquella. "I promise."

Ranni raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps a little. But it would be good for the both of you. And if you don't mind me saying, you have children together. And he's been working just as hard as you to find a way that you can all be together again."

"I'll consider it," said Ranni.

’Twas thus, as ancient fables tell,

Love visited a Grecian maid,

Till she disturbed the sacred spell,

And woke to find her hopes betrayed. - Mary Shelley

Chapter Text

Miquella sighed in frustration as he looked at the pot on his desk. His mother's great gift had grown considerably into a small tree. He pruned it, watered it, experimented with it with the utmost delicacy, and even managed to grow a sample into the minor Erdtree out in the church where Miquella began his preaching. But aside from the regular requirements of a tree, Miquella wasn't sure what to do anymore.

His father recommended planting his branch of the Erdtree into soil rich with gold as it was a material unlike any other. Under this theory, Miquella tested and grew the branch within the Minor Erdtree Church. And while the results were impressive, making something that was at least partially resembling his mother's magnificent work and unique at the same time, it only caused a small stir. Its beauty, size, and magnificence did not come anywhere near equal to those of its mother branch.

Again, his father scolded Miquella to continue to look deeper into the foundation of gold, but there were no answers. He studied gold down to its smallest parts. Conducted hundreds of experiments on its luster, components, and properties. And while he learned much from this, including using an unalloyed variety in new treatments for his sister, but as the foundational ingredient to build his legacy? Miquella wasn't seeing it.

The reveal of his miracle and the preaching at the Minor Erdtree Church only brought about a minor stir among the Lands-Between and far too much criticism. Golden Order Fundamentalists questioned if Marika intended to, or even should, abucate her throne to Miquella. After all, he was not of the Golden Lineage, which was an essential requirement in their small minds.

It was insulting! How dare they! Was Marika the goddess, or was it Godfrey? Was it her blood that mattered or the blood of a half-rabid Lord who needed a lion to calm his fury?

"Why bother with that stupid Golden Order anyway?" muttered Miquella, laying his head on the desk. "It wasn't as though it did anything for Malenia except make things worse."

Ack! Malenia! Miquella forgot to wake her, as he did every morning. Today, especially, was not a time he ought to hesitate. He quickly went to his distiller and examined the water he purified from the dew dripping from the Erdtree's leaves. After pouring the beaker into a jug, he went out the door.

Malenia threatened numerous times to lock Miquella out when she was upset but never followed through. It was more the idol teenage threats from a growing young woman demanding her own space than a serious commitment. It confused young Miquella. He couldn't understand why his beloved sister, his own twin, lost interest in playing with him, how she grew more focused on training and spent more time with Finlay than with him.

His parents assured Miquella that this was all part of growing up, an experience that Miquella would never have. He pretended he understood, but he struggled with the idea himself. Why would anyone want to grow up if they became so surly and boring?

He pushed Malenia's door open, but again, she didn't follow through with her threat to lock, even though she had every reason to. She wasn't a morning person, and as she grew older, she also grew frustrated with having a consistent—and intrusive—morning routine.

He found Malenia still in bed with Finlay sleeping next to her. Between them was the book that Finlay read her before the two of them fell asleep.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" caroled Miquella as he threw open the curtains.

"Really, Miquella?" groaned Malenia as she rubbed and then covered her eyes from the blinding sun.

Miquella laughed and closed the curtains again. He crawled up on Malenia's lap, put his arms around her neck, and snuggled his head against her chest. How much he loved her! Every moment with her was so precious to him.

"Are you going to train with Medjai today," Miquella asked. "Please say you won't, Little Sister. You're already the best there is."

"Finlay needs the practice."

Finlay snorted.

"I didn't say you wanted to practice," said Malenia.

"Then just Finlay can go, and you can stay here with me. Please, Little Sister?"

"Miquella, it's not always about what people want," said Malenia. She picked Miquella up and put him aside.

"Fine," huffed Miquella. "But don't stay out too long."

"Very well," she replied, giving him a tickle. She stopped at Miquella's pleas for mercy and turned to a harsh scolding with her finger on his nose as Miquella giggled. "But don't be manipulating me again."

"Of course! And you have a big day today," said Miquella.

Melania didn't answer, so she got up and went to the vanity. The moment she picked up the brush, the strength in her hand gave way. Next came the feeling of dizziness, and when Malenia brushed her hand under her nose, there were streaks of blood. When Malenia looked up, though her eyes were nearly blind, she still saw the monster's outline behind her silhouette. It crawled towards her on its insect legs, and raised its stinger.

"C-Could someone get Medjai?" she asked.

"What's wrong, sister? Please, tell me," said Miquella.

"I just need him here," she said.

"Tell me what's wrong, and I'll help you."

Finlay had already left and returned, guiding Medjai by the hand to where her mistress was, even though he did know the way.

"Medjai?"

"It's okay, I'm here."

He knelt in front of her and took her shaking hand.

"Your hand is like ice, Little Bird," he said.

"I saw it again."

"Yes, of course. Of course, you did."

"I can't free myself," said Malenia. Her voice was shaking in panic. "I just want it to go away."

"I know. I know. Remember what I said, Little Bird? That monster is envious of you. You have his power, and it is now yours to command," said Medjai.

"I'm the monster."

"No. The monster is that thing that fell from the sky and tried to impose its will to spread filth upon the world. It is not a thing of this world. It cares nothing for those it harms. But you have shown so much love. Look how you love your brother. Look how you love Finlay. A mortal!"

Malenia gave a slight laugh as she wiped away a tear, "They care for me."

She hugged Medjai and broke down crying.

"Oh, Medjai. I don't want this anymore. What if I fall apart like my mother? What if I turn to my anger?" said Malenia.

"It's okay to be afraid. The lack of fear is not what makes us warriors. It's the ability to face it," said Medjai. "For now, focus on today. Okay? It's an important day for yourself, is it not?"

Malenia nodded, still showing some nervousness. She had spoken at length with Medjai about her concerns about marrying her brother, which Medjai shared, but she did not look to influence her one way or another. She had to make the choice herself. There was no attack or concern about Radahn himself. Her time spent with him and the care he took of her were some of the fondest memories of her life.

Yet, it somehow still felt wrong. Almost a premonition that something terrible would happen between the two and that Malenia, at that moment, feared she might destroy him.

"I feel like I've been indebted to you my entire life," said Malenia.

Medjai smiled, "Don't fret, Little Bird. We'll find a way. And you'll bloom into the beautiful flower that you are."

Miquella waited outside with his arms crossed and looking a bit surly.

"Why can't you give my sister hope?" said Miquella.

"I am just being realistic," said Medjai. He and Miquella had this argument before. Many times, in fact. They cared about Malenia but could not agree on what was best. Miquella held his long standing belief that he would, in time, cure the rot. Medjai wasn't so sure. It's power wasn't like anything he ever seen before, and possibly one that could rival Marika herself. And he wasn't sure how comfortable he was that Miquella could cure it, or even should. In his time, Medjai had grown suspicious of outer gods, gods, and demigods all dabbling with, bending and wielding powers they did not fully understand. Playing around with the mechanisms of nature as though they had created both them and themselves yielded results that had never proven themselves well.

"I can find a cure! I can," argued Miquella.

"There are many who tried."

"They are not a god. I am the Son of Queen Marika, and I will be a god."

"Your mother could not cure it. And what is she? A goddess. Or so they say," said Medjai.

"I will be greater than Mother."

"Miquella, listen to me," said Medjai. "Believe me, I fought that sinister scorpion to seal him away. The last thing I saw with these rotted eyes were the souls he devoured. Men, women, children. My dear Little Bud, Romina. He consumed them all. And I vowed to destroy him. But when I stood before him, ready to make that killing blow, I could not."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I was tempted! If I had killed, this power would be mine. I could not do that. I could not even allow myself to have a chance to be that god. I don't know what it would make me if I did. At least, by letting him keep his rot, I left the power with a monster that I knew I could seal away."

"If it was my power..."

"Miquella, stop! You cannot always think that you will do great things with great power even when you know yourself well because if you were to ever get it, you would not be the same person. You understand?"

"I think so?"

Medjai nodded and let go of Miquella's shoulders.

"You said that power can make someone something different. What is it going to turn my sister into?"

"Let me help her, Miquella. And maybe she will be a beautiful flower with kindness," said Medjai.

Miquella snorted, "Maybe you only think there's no cure because you didn't find it."

Medjai sighed, "I'm sorry you feel that way, dear Miquella."

Seluvis met Ranni and Blaidd at Volcano Manor, but he was asked to stay there for the duration, to the Preceptor's disappointment. He wished to enter the ceremony as he was curious about the rumors of the young, kindly demigod, Miquella, and felt this the best opportunity to see him. Ranni objected at first, as it was Malenia's wish that only a select few guests were permitted entry, and Seluvis, as a preceptor, wasn't one. Especially not one whose only intent was to gawk at her brother.

Every time Miquella came to the Carian manor, Seluvis seemed to shoo himself off to other tasks around the manor. He feared Malenia, whose sight wasn't completely impaired, and who did indeed share her mother's terrifying gaze—one that was said to cause entire armies to tremble in fear. Of course, Ranni knew Malenia, at heart, was a gentle little bird.

"Come now. It's not that she can see enough to know it was me," said Seluvis.

Blaidd grunted and straightened his back, which he did when annoyed.

"I suppose if that's how it must be," sighed Seluvis. "But honestly, Princess Ranni, I felt as though these past few years, you haven't seemed to care to utilize me to my true potential."

"It must have been that imposture that looked suspiciously like me attacking Ranni that changed things," scoffed Blaidd.

"Blaidd!"

"That? Oh, please, I hadn't anything to do with that," insisted Seluvis. "What would I gain, after all?"

"I would that thee continue thine search for a way into Nokron, Seluvis."

Selivus rolled his eyes.

"Really? That's all you seem to think I'm good for."

"I am not concerned with whether thou finds the task entertaining."

"Forgive me, Princess, but we've been looking for a way for thirteen years now."

"And it is a task that is not yet done. Blaidd, doth thou mind?" said Ranni as she pulled Seluvis aside to where Blaidd would not hear. "I do not want even so much of a finger laid on Radahn. I doth quarrel with him, but he is my brother, and I intend to settle this matter another way."

"Fine," sighed Seluvis.

"If thou truly finds this task so tedious, then perhaps thou would find out about this Alecto character instead," said Ranni.

"Alecto?"

"Yes. Knowest anything of her?"

"I may. But why her? Rumor has it that she's a bit... dangerous, to say the least," said Seluvis.

"We should be back shortly," said Ranni.

With that, she and Blaidd departed, but not without Blaidd leaning close to the preceptor, "I know about your little puppet collection. And don't even think about it."

"Of course, of course," said Selivus.

He then soon returned to Ranni, who had been waiting out by the carriage.

"I don't like that man," said Blaidd.

"Fear not, Blaidd. I will dispose of him once there is no more need for what he knows," said Ranni.

"He's not telling you what he knows. He's keeping it all back, thinking you can't get rid of him if he does," said Blaidd.

"And he will soon run out of things I can use," said Ranni. She sensed Blaidd staring at her. "What?"

"I'm sorry. For a moment, you sounded like Marika."

Ranni grinned, "Perhaps so."

Regardless, the bridge leading into the Leyndell was packed with insignificant nobodies who happened to hold the title of noble. When Blaidd announced that Luner Princess Ranni was coming and to make way, many refused to do so, pretending as though they didn't hear. The guards were also a little help, as they were not from the proper cast and rank to tell nobles anything.

There wasn't much of this issue when it was Ranni and Godwyn's ceremony. So long as the person was a nobleman, they were permitted entry.

However, Malenia had requested that they keep the observers to a minimum, which created much of this issue. Radahn even loaned a squad of his Redmanes, led by Freyja and Ogha, to assist Leyndell's guard in controlling who came in. The Tree Sentinals were doubled and even accompanied by those who brandished the magic of the dragons.

Ranni couldn't blame Malenia for wanting to take such precautions. As her brother's fame spread, so did his critics, who did not like that Marika was seriously considering someone not of the Golden Lineage as her heir. And there was no shortage of individuals who might view Miquella's childlike appearance as a weakness and thus take advantage.

Malenia also was shy and disliked people looking at her. In public, she'd rather divert the unwanted attention back to Miquella. Miquella reveled in this and took advantage to preach his ideals.

"What do you mean?" shouted one nobleman. "I hath been there before for these proceedings."

Finlay was there, wearing a gown standard with Ladies in Waiting but with her arms crossed and looking extremely angry. She had the task of reading the list and identifying the guests, which Ranni imagined made her the target of people's anger when they weren't on it.

"Yes, yes, we've all heard it. You and your brother Godefroy are of the Golden Lineage. You deserve to be present. Blah, blah, blah," sighed Kristoff. "At this point, you've come to bore me Godrick."

"I wasn't ever here to entertain you, to begin with!" shouted the old man as he stomped his feet. He then pointed to Finlay, "This thing here has no right to keep me out."

"That 'thing' is the personal handmaiden to my sister, Malenia the Severed, who is the daughter of Queen Marika and Lord Radagon," said Ranni, intervening on the issue. "As such is her title, her voice is the same as her mistress. And even if thy name was found on this list, thy place is never guaranteed."

"How dare you!" stuttered Godrick. "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course, I know thee. Thou art Godrick who hath dubbed thyself 'the Golden.' The country bumpkin who hath claimed himself descendent of Queen Marika and heir of the Golden Order, but I know Queen Marika personally, and she hath yet ever to mention thee. Doth, thou knowest me? I am the Luner Princess Ranni. As I said before, even if thou could be found on this list, then thy place is still not guaranteed. Continue to annoy Lady Finlay, and I can assure thee that thou will see thy name never on any invitation in the future," said Ranni.

Godrick laughed, "You pretend your thoughts on the world control what is. Poor stupid, deluded child." He pointed to the crowds, "You all pretend I am nothing. But I am everything! And let it be known that one day, my place as heir will be recognized."

"Well, that day is not today. Get out of here—both you and your ignorant brother," said Kristoff. He called over Freyja and Ogha, who grabbed him by the shoulder.

"I am Godrick the Golden! Heir to the throne," shouted Godrick. "Unhand me!"

"Aww, that so?" mocked Freyja. "Well, now, I've never tossed a nobleman before. I have a hammer back in the arena. Imagine you not being too heavy with how much hot air is in your head. Walk quietly, and we don't have to find out how different it is to throw ya."

Ogha rubbed Finlay on the shoulder with a grin, then followed Freyja as they pushed against the crowds to escort Godrick out.

The ceremony was nothing special. Ranni was sure it was supposed to be a private affair, but the nobility needed to flex their relevance and insist this become public. Some elements remained intimate, showing their original intent. People could see Malenia and Radahn well enough but could not hear what they said. But Ranni could guess what Radahn said to Malenia was similar to what Godwyn had said to her all those years ago. It was words of adoration and compliments for her intelligence and beauty, even though he barely knew anything about her. They discussed the advantages of the union, aired out their concerns - though not too much - and agreed to the courtship. In Ranni's case, Godwyn promised not to soil her virtue, but of course, that didn't turn out the way it should.

Radahn and Malenia had their closest friends accompanying them and bearing witness to the couple's promises to each other. For Radahn it was Jaren. Malenia had Finlay at her side, which Ranni was sure took quite a bit of convincing for her parents to allow. Finlay seemed to always march to the beat of her own drum, a drum that only she could hear, and was terribly off in timing from the rest of the band. She was bored and didn't do an excellent job of hiding it by hyperfocusing on the planters that hung from the ceiling. Malenia loved her, though, and despite Finlay's apparent disinterest in what was happening visually, she was probably absorbing every word and could recite it to precisely its tone and cadence. That was perhaps more why Malenia was insistent on her odd friend and not someone more capable of keeping a dignified front.

After some time, Malenia called over Miquella, which wasn't surprising. Her greatest reluctance was a possible separation from her twin, which had distressed Miquella the last time. She held Miquella's shoulders as Radahn knelt before him and made his own promise to the lad. Miquella soon hugged Radahn, but his face was upset, maybe even angry. Either it was anger over Radahn not choosing him - and believing it because of his curse or he saw Radahn as this third wheel who would require his sister's attention.

Perhaps it was a bit of both.

Everyone cheered when Malenia and Radahn faced the crowd, her arm resting on his. Radagon was the first to speak with the couple. Malenia let her hand drop and put it instead on Miquella's shoulder, showing that it was him and not Radahn who came first in her life.

Malenia tactfully hid her right hand under her long sleeves so that it wouldn't be seen by the observers.

Marika was nowhere to be found, and the effect of her absence showed in Malenia's face. She was lost and confused as she was pressured to make such a decision. Ranni felt the same way when her own mother wasn't invited—longing for maternal guidance and shame that Marika and Radagon couldn't resolve their differences to spend even a half hour together.

The poor girl was probably eager to leave this place. Malenia feared people might notice the extent of her infection, and then Ranni was sure panic would follow. It would call into question Marika's power as a goddess if she couldn't even heal her own daughter. No wonder Marika placed her entire bet on Miquella. He was the only one among them with anything that seemed to help contain the rot.

Only a select few knew about Malenia's disease. All though she ran freely around Redmane Castle for months as a child, Radahn insisted only his most trusted inner circle was aware she was his sister. The rest assumed he allowed them to take in another orphan like they had done Finlay. Some perfumers tended to her when she was younger and still did from time to time. Finlay, of course, knew, but she didn't seem to see the difference between her inner world and the outer one. In what the demigods dubbed "the strange world of Finlay" Finlay reasoned that whatever she knew, everyone else knew. She assumed that since she knew Malenia had scarlet rot, so must everyone else, so she managed to keep the secret, albeit accidentally.

Ranni started to grow a little impatient for things to wrap up, and she might leave this place. Only a few weeks ago, she had been with her daughters for the precious four hours she was allowed to see them, and right now, she just wished to cry.

"Ranni?"

The voice caused goosebumps.

Of all the people to see, Godwyn wasn't someone Ranni expected. She hadn't seen him in thirteen years, and the last she did, he was disheveled and angry. He was still the most handsome man, with his lochs of hair and chiseled chin now sported a beard. His blue tunic didn't conceal his muscular chest. Only his eyes were different. They were tense and serious, but they still reflected that sense of kindness that Ranni did recognize.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Godwyn said.

"The same could be said of thee. Wast thou at the ceremony?"

"Malenia doesn't like so many people watching her, so I slipped in late," said Godwyn. He scratched the back of his head and then nervously asked, "There's a lot I want to ask you."

"I know," said Ranni.

He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to hold back his impatience. But this wasn't the appropriate time to talk about it.

"Well, it was good to see you again," said Godwyn.

"As it was for thee," said Ranni.

"Maybe consider stopping by later? I'd like to know more. If that's alright."

Ranni gave a nod.

She didn't stop watching him as he walked toward Malenia and Radahn to speak with them. Malenia embraced her brother while Radahn gave a huff and crossed his arms, still unwilling to admit he had done anything wrong. Most of what they said to each other was a "Radahn," and Radahn replied with a haughty" Godwyn."

Malenia was conflicted about the matter. She knew by now that Radahn had stolen her from the castle to satisfy his wounded pride. She knew the affair affected many innocent people. But those months with Radahn also represented the best months of her life. She spoke of them frequently with fondness and attributed it to her interest in swordsmanship and warfare.

It was also the healthiest she had ever been.

"You know, I will say he at least has a remarkable ass. Well, compliments that handsome face, don't you think?" commented Rykard, holding a glass of brandy. Unsavory for him to drink in public, but Rykard had long since ceased to care about any decency.

Ranni rolled her eyes, "For the sake of the moon, Rykard. I am not meeting him."

"Alright, alright. I'm not saying you should. That's your choice," he said, turning to Malenia to change the subject. "That at least all went better than expected."

"I fear asking thee what thou did expect," said Ranni.

"Well, maybe Malenia realizes that she's about to marry her own brother, and I don't see how that will at all turn out well."

Ranni shook her head. "Still a child."

"Indeed. It's a fascinating curse."

"Of course, Miquella, but I mean Malenia also."

"Reminds you a little of yourself, doesn't she?" said Rykard. "Hopefully, Radahn will show a little more restraint with his swordsmanship."

"Come off it, Rykard! This is a political union!"

Rykard took Ranni's hand and led her to where they could get a closer look at Radagon.

"Does Father remind you of anyone?" Rykard asked.

"I do not understand thy point!"

"Just look at him and don't think about it too hard. Look especially at the eyes."

Of course, Ranni saw. It was hard not to see after all the years, but no one thought anything of it. Their father was never open about his past, and their stepmother even less.

"That proves nothing," said Ranni. "If Father had any siblings, it would have been mentioned."

"Perhaps. And Marika was subject to those horrific rituals. Perhaps Father was one of her jar-buddies. Still, I would think that might at least make them almost siblings," said Rykard.

This matter was already becoming too sensitive, and Ranni needed to stay focused on her daughters and their well-being. Anything else, though interesting, was of no concern.

"At any rate, Sister," said Rykard, kissing her on the cheek. "It's always a pleasure to see you well. I have to ask, though, had you had that visit from... 'her?'"

He meant this Alecto and Ranni shook her head "No." To be fair, she wasn't rushing it either. Renna said little about this character and what she might do when encountering her.

"The good news is that Selivus and I have a plan," said Rykard.

Ranni raised an eyebrow. The last time her brothers attempted to "help" her, it led to things falling apart with Godwyn.

Ranni met Blaidd outside where he was told to wait. Of course, it was never something he liked to do, but it was something necessary. The two of them walked away from the throne room and the Erdtree, as Ranni did have a number of people to see before her departure. Malenia, of course, then there was her invitation to Volcano Manor which she could put aside for a bit. Her father too. And Marika, though more to pay her respects than anything else. To not bother with Godwyn would not be unreasonable.

"I heard you met Godwyn," said Blaidd.

"Indeed, I did," Ranni replied.

"And?"

"What?"

"I expected you and him would have quite a bit to talk about."

"Thou art the second person to make mention and I am not looking to," said Ranni.

"Sorry, I can't help but feel pity for the man. The situation with Radahn was an awful one. If not for Iji and ultimately your father intervening, I couldn't imagine how much worse they might have been. I know you've said time and time again over the years, that Godwyn had an obligation to see to the manner honorably. But believe me, fighting the battles with him and Fortisax, I'm not sure what sort of honor could be had there," said Blaidd.

"I had counciled him to appeal the case to his mother long before the situation escalated to a full out conflict."

"Yes, and what happened all the other times he complained to her or even your father about his treatment? It stalled them for a week. Perhaps two, and then it would go back to the same back biting and slander as though nothing happened. Look, I'm not excusing Godwyn's behavior towards you. Had I been there, he'd not have a hand to lay on you. But I think, perhaps at the very least, he has a right to meet his girls," said Blaidd.

"Thou knowest I cannot even risk myself going up there for long," said Ranni.

"I think he understands that as well, Mistress Ranni. What I am saying is that, despite what happened in the past, he is still their father. And while he cannot meet them, I don't believe it too unreasonable he at least know a bit about them," said Blaidd.

"What can I say to them when I barely know them myself?" said Ranni.

"Please, Mistress Ranni. At least assure him that they're okay."

Of course, as usual, Blaidd was right. He was one of only a few people whom Ranni had come to trust with his advice.

"Very well. I will meet him," said Ranni.

She looked up towards the night sky and saw Maliketh perched up on the roof, staring down at her.

Chapter Text

This thing is like a wolf

This thing is a wolf

Thus, it is a thing to be banished.

When Ranni arrived at Godwyn's door, she hesitated, her knuckles floating inches over the wood. She soon gained her composure and courage and made a gentle knock on the door. Kenneth answered and—after the initial surprise—beamed a smile.

“Welcome, dear Princess Ranni. It is quite the pleasure, truly," said Kenneth, kissing her cheek. He stood aside to allow Ranni entry.

“It’s a pleasure to see thee as well,” replied Ranni as she looked around.

Godwyn's chambers were spotless despite the evidence that they were lived in. He had never been interested in keeping things clean, much less organized, so seeing everything sorted and properly placed made the chambers feel almost alien.

“Is Godwyn here?”

“Of course! He’ll be about in a moment,” said Kenneth. “And how have things been?”

“As well as could be expected," said Ranni. "And thyself?" "I do have a few worries. There was a lot of indirect criticism toward your sister. Surprisingly, the obvious close relationship between her and Radahn is the least of anyone's worries. Demigods are far from mortal, after all. However, there are some concerns about Miquella using this as an opportunity to continue to spread his influence. I'm hoping this criticism does not reach your sister. She's starting to gain a reputation of being a formidable swordsman." "They will not. And if they do, I will take the brunt of this criticism and see it never reaches her ears," said Ranni.

“I’m sure you will.”

“Ranni? You came?”

Godwyn stood at the doorway between the threshold and the sitting area of his chambers. He had shaved his beard and brushed back his hair into a tight ponytail. He stared at Ranni with a smile, which, for some reason, made Ranni both smile and feel shy enough to have to break eye contact.

“Well, I’ll take my leave then. I’m sure the two of you have much to talk about,” said Kenneth.

Ranni almost wished Kenneth had stayed. She stood in front of the man she was the most accountable to. He had every reason to be angry—to hate her even—and yet he chose to smile.

He broke eye contact and then rubbed the back of his head, "I, um... didn't think you would come," said Godwyn.

“Here I am,” said Ranni.

“Yes, of course. Um... I understand if there are certain things you won’t want to talk about,” said Godwyn.

“They’re fine, Godwyn.”

Godwyn again smiled and closed his eyes. He sighed, releasing all his fear and worry about what happened. He basked in a moment of joy, which the last thirteen years wouldn't afford him.

"Are you hungry? I could have the servants bring you something," said Godwyn.

"Perhaps something to drink," she said.

Godwyn nodded and went into the other room to fetch a bottle of wine. He was soon interrupted by a knock on the door, and Godwyn asked Ranni to wait a moment while he addressed whoever was there. It was one of his knights delivering the evening report, as was customary to any well-dressed and organized military unit.

Ranni looked around in this place, which now felt so strange and uncomfortable, but in the hope that she might find some part of the man she once loved. A shirt drooped over a chair or a hairbrush in some inexplicable place, but she saw none of that. Not even so much as a loose thread of hair on anything.

The only thing disorganized in the room was the desk, and Ranni was drawn to it. Her thumb flipped through the papers to see most of them, and she found Godwyn's handwriting and numerous letters addressed to Aurelia and Arueliette. They read like a journal, detailing books he read and little stories about when he was a child and often stained with tears. Of course, he talked about the day he met Fortissax and even a silly picture of them lying out on the beach after they fought one another to exhaustion. He hadn't even told Ranni some of these stories like when Godfrey caught him sneaking back into the house to spend time with a band of warriors, he considered his friends. His father promised not to say anything to Marika so long as Godwyn promised to return with some exalted meat the next time. Of course, keeping a secret from a goddess turned out as well as anyone could expect. (It was always strange to Ranni that, despite her godhood, Marika was still very much a mother like any other.)

Each concluded with a promise that he would make this world a place where they did not have to fear death like he did. He would "slay the beast" that held it, and then they could come and see one another.

It took only a second for Ranni to realize that she was reading a mourning father writing out everything he desired to share with his children.

"Sorry about that," said Godwyn. "You know how the troops are. Accustomed to formalities."

Ranni nodded, stepping away from the desk, but Godwyn didn't mind that she had looked at it.

"Come," said Godwyn, taking Ranni's arm. "Sit. I need to hear everything."

Ranni's heart dropped when she realized that this was to be the topic of choice. She felt vulnerable as if Godwyn could judge her at any moment for her actions.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It was a mistake to have come here."

"Ranni, please stay. I'm sorry, but I have to know. Please?"

Godwyn held both her hands, and his eyes begged her not to let go and run away this time.

"Please, I don't even remember how old they are. Ten? Eleven?"

"Thirteen."

Godwyn nodded. She couldn't bear to look at him in the eyes.

"They like to look at the stars."

"And?" His voice grew more anxious.

Ranni closed her eyes so she might see them better—not their faces so much, but them in motion. Aureliette spun as snow felt around her, her head tilted up towards the stars. Aurelia soon joined her, and their infectious laughs floated over the snowfield.

When she opened her eyes again, Godwyn still held her hands, smiling again even though Ranni hadn't said a single word. He sensed her happiness by just remembering a small, insignificant memory.

She remembered now why she loved him. It was for this. Ranni never had to explain herself or say what she was thinking. He just knew. It was as though words were not necessary anymore. Their language was something more.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her forehead. "Thank you for protecting our children."

"It wasn't an easy choice," said Ranni.

"No, but it's the right one. I didn't understand that at first, and I'm sorry. I was thinking too much in my own head and too much about the wrongs against me. I felt like I had the right only to think of myself. Do they know about me?"

"I haven't much time to spend with them, but I have told them a little about thee. They were curious about their blond hair. I didn't tell them thy name. In fact, they don't even know mine," said Ranni.

"One day, they will know," said Godwyn, brushing a strand of hair from Ranni's face.

The kiss wasn't expected but welcomed nonetheless. As Ranni fell into Godwyn's embrace, she recalled Renna's words about how choices were not to be easy. Forgiveness was not easy. She remembered the broken man who came in and took away her love. And while that carefree young man, filled with hopes and dreams, didn't return, there was now he was the only person in the entire world who could share her love for that which had come first in her life.

Blaidd trudged through the knee-deep snow as he tried to follow the trail in the swirling snowflakes. The wind was a deafening howl, and making visibility impossible. At this rate, his quarry was certain to escape to either a well-hidden hiding place or too far ahead of him. Blaidd pushed on, following only the small whiffs of its scent.

"Blaidd. Blaidd."

The tiny voice floated over the wind.

"Over here, Blaidd!"

"Where?" said Blaidd. "Blast! I can't see a thing in this weather."

"Over here, silly!"

Blaidd shielded his face against another blast of ice that stung into his flesh. Each time he looked up, it was only at a glance where he often caught the silhouette of two beings running out across the blanketed snowfield.

"Wait!"

Blaidd picked up the pace, desperate not to lose sight of them.

“Hurry Blaidd! Hurry! Before it’s too late.”

The snow could not hold him back as he pushed through its dregs. Then, as suddenly as it started, the storm ended. Blaidd was standing outside the First Church of Marika. Both Aurelia and Aureliette stood outside the door, which baffled him. This place was as far away from the Stargazer Village, certainly well beyond where the two girls could travel alone.

“Thank goodness you're both okay," said Blaidd, putting his arms around the twins. "I could never forgive myself if anything happened to the two of you."

“You have to hurry,” said Aureliette.

“Go inside,” said Aurelia.

Blaidd looked up to see the image of a red-haired woman appearing to bow before the statute of Queen Marika. He told the girls to wait as he drew out his sword.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the entire place became a ruin. And the woman lay on the ground, with a beast, on all fours, looming over her.

It tore first off her clothes, strip by strip. Opening up her blouse and then ripping open her undergarments to reveal her breasts. It spent a moment sniffing and licking the form, savoring the taste of its prey as the woman lay nude in front of it. Then, it sunk its teeth into her flesh, tearing it off large chunks and devouring it. Blood spilled out and stained the white snow to red.

Aurelia and Aureliette each stood at the flanks of their grandmother’s statue, watching this monster as it ate away the woman’s flesh—their mother’s flesh!

And as Blaidd watched, his mouth salivated, and hunger grew inside him to join this Shadow and taste the snow-white skin of his mistress. To crunch her bones in his jaw and suck on the tenderness of muscle and sinew and lap up her blood to quench his thirst.

“No!” shouted Blaidd, throwing his sword. “I will not give in. I will not give in.”

Blaidd grabbed his head as his consciousness returned from the horrid vision. The frenzy caused him to rip the mirror off the wall and smash it to the ground. The rest of the room followed as Blaidd raged over his urges.

That scent he trailed over the mountains and into the snowfields was his own. The creature—that baleful shadow—was one of his own creation. His soul was shattered to pieces as he tried to rip his desire for his mistress’s blood from himself.

“I will not destroy my sister!” Blaidd cried.

With that, Blaidd's mind returned. He looked around the destroyed room and, with a sigh of relief, leaned against the wall.

It was over, at least for now.

Blaidd soon slid down to sit on the wooden floor of the chamber and wept.

Ranni opened her eyes and looked back over her shoulder. Godwyn was still asleep with his arm draped over her waist. The golden shine of the Erdtree and the morning sun fell in through the cracks between the drapes in Godwyn's bedroom. With a sigh, Ranni laid her head back down on the pillow.

Something didn't seem quite right. She thought perhaps it was because the last time she found herself in this position with Godwyn, it was arranged by Queen Marika—or her stepmother was merely careless or completely uncaring for the arrangement that Godwyn and Ranni weren't supposed to be left alone. At least there wasn't a chance 0o..f the same result happening as what did the last time. A birth could only happen where Erdtree's dew fell, and it did not fall here.

Soon, Ranni felt Godwyn stir. His hand went from her waist to his fingertips, brushing over her fair skin. Then came his lips, showing Ranni that part of him that survived.

"Did you sleep well?" Godwyn asked.

"As well as could be expected," replied Ranni. That feeling still nagged on her. "I ought to check on Blaidd."

"Shouldn't he be checking on you?"

"I have my own agenda, Godwyn."

There was a long pause in their conversation, during which Godwyn continued to rub her shoulder. He then sighed, placed his palm on her, and said, "Fine. Don't tell me."

He climbed out of bed but looked back at Ranni with a grin and a wink, indicating he respected her need for secrecy.

Godwyn reached to hand Ranni her dress but paused.

"What?" said Ranni.

"Sorry... Um..."

"I did not accuse thee if that is what concerns thou," she said, snatching her dress. "That was my brothers making up their own stories of what occurred."

"You didn't want to either," said Godwyn. "I talked you into it."

"Enough Godwyn. I don't want to think about that," said Ranni. She paused a moment. Maybe they should talk about it. They should talk about everything. "It wasn't okay. I wanted to feel loved by thee."

“And I was frustrated. I was tired of obeying your brother's rules. Funny because if Radahn ever did the same to Malenia, I don't know that I wouldn't be upset."

“Not start a war.”

"No. Not start a war. Definitely not.”

“You’d be lucky if Malenia let you keep your head.”

Godwyn grinned, "I'm lucky you didn't melt me. But what's done is done. And we have two daughters between us."

Again, Ranni paused. "That we do."

It was Ranni’s turn now to ask questions.

"Doth thou truly intend to challenge Maliketh?"

Godwyn sat down on his chair and poured himself a glass of wine. He thought momentarily as he sipped it, resting one hand against his temples.

"I don't know. Truthfully, I'm not even sure if he can be killed," said Godwyn.

"Why wouldn't thy mother at least see him contained?"

"I don't know that she can. Mother made a bargain with the Greater Will, and in doing so, she had to bind herself to Maliketh. From what I understand, that's all part of the deal."

"Godwyn, that night... when he came and almost... at any rate. That beast contains power far beyond what thou can comprehend."

"The Rune of Death. I'm already more than aware," said Godwyn. "But despite him being her Shadow Bound beast, capable of killing even a demigod, Mother's only purpose for him was to hold the Rune of Death. She might have waged war on her predecessor, but other than that, he appears nowhere in pages of history."

"She doesn't want her children to die," said Ranni.

"In that, I truly sympathize with Mother," Godwyn admitted.

"If a shadow-bound beast is all part of the deal with the Greater Will, then why is it that no one had bound Miquella or Malenia to one?"

"I warned Miquella not to, and he's pretty stubborn and persuasive enough that everyone will feel compelled to listen to him, even against their better judgment. And Malenia? To put it mildly, she's a bit of an accident. Being a vassal for another god and the personification of decay itself, I don't think she has a place in Mother's world."

"She's part of a natural order of things," said Ranni.

Godwyn raised an eyebrow, and Ranni continued, "That's what Radahn believes. He's quite fond of her and enamored so much by her powers that he made her a pivotal part of his own plans to become Lord. Even gifted her a swordmaster."

Godwyn rolled his eyes, "Imagine him as Lord. He'd just make it one big giant war so he could bask in the rays of his own hubris glory. What does he need her for? To help deal with the piles of corpses, he's bound to leave. How does Malenia feel about it?"

"Difficult to say. I can see the two getting along well. Radahn took great pains in understanding her disease. However, it seems more like a militaristic strategic application. I'm not sure Malenia is fully realizing the weight of the decision. It's to her benefit my brother is patient."

"Miquella, I think, has other plans for Melania. She's the best swordsman now and won't pose a danger to Miquella being a substitute for his shadow."

"Unproven swordsman," said Ranni.

"It's the best alternative. I'm not about to risk either of them. You'll probably be angry for me to say, but I'm concerned about you and Blaidd."

"Blaidd has been removed from Maliketh for many generations," said Ranni.

"If you say so."

Ranni slammed her hands against the table, "Blaidd will not betray me."

"Calm down. I'm not doubting you. I can't afford to doubt you anymore," said Godwyn. He stood and stroked a loose strand of Ranni's hair behind her ear. You protected my children from him. I can't ask anything else from you. You've proven more trustworthy than any woman I've ever had in my life."

“Are you doing anything else today?” Godwyn asked.

“I have to meet with Rykard. Already I’m late,” said Ranni.

“Very well," said Godwyn, scratching the back of his head again. Would you be able to deliver a gift to the girls?"

“Of course,” said Ranni.

Godwyn's gift was two sealed letters addressed to each of their daughters. As Ranni stared at them, Godwyn reached out and touched her hair.

“Take care, Ranni,” he said.

“You too,” she replied.

It was yet another difficult decision about how she would bring these letters. Ranni would prefer to bring them herself, but her next visit was still a long way off. She could send them with Blaidd, but he could not offer them the much-needed context or answer any questions they would have about their father. And Ranni knew they had questions. Perhaps only one or two at right now, but those questions would mount and grow unbearable as time passed. They would start to understand they had a birthright and a destiny.

Why, oh why, did things have to be this way? Every day, she was haunted by the desire for her family to unite.

She needed to find this Alecto character. Ranni just hoped that Rykard's plan would actually solve the problem instead of making matters worse.

"Blaidd? It's time to leave," said Ranni.

Her heart skipped a beat the moment she opened the door. The entire room was destroyed, with claw marks slashed over the walls. She readied a spell as she entered further into the room.

"I don't want to... Please leave me be."

"Blaidd?" said Ranni. She knelt in front of her shadow as he remained huddled up against the wall.

"You are making a mistake trusting me, Mistress Ranni," said Blaidd.

"No, I'm not," said Ranni, taking Blaidd's hands. "This is not you. It's not. Blaidd, look at me."

He struggled, but Blaidd lifted his head.

'It's me, Blaidd. Remember?" she said, stroking his head.

"I remember when we were playing hide-in-seek, and you left me hiding in that tree stump for hours," said Blaidd.

Ranni chuckled, remembering that day.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Mother and Father were furious over something Rykard did. Mother made me go back to my tower."

"Of course, true to them, they had to punish all of you."

Ranni nodded. A night of flaring tempers and ceaseless arguments eroded rational thought and paved way for selfishness. This was why Ranni suggested the game in the first place: to get away from the angry accusations and name calling as though they were children. Rennala called Radagon "Marika's Lap Dog" and accused him of infidelity with "that infantile queen." Radagon retorted with accusations of his own. He called Rennala arrogant, short sighted, and that she "didn't understand." 

So, when one of their children did something wrong, neither had the will or the patience to investigate and correct the behavior as two loving parents ought to.

"I do have to thank thee for realizing me gone and coming to make sure I wasn't alone," said Ranni. She rested her head against his and rubbed her thumbs on his cheeks. "I cannot do this alone, Blaidd. I would rather risk my whole being to be devoured by the monster that haunts thy thoughts, than to take even one step on this dark path without thee. I trust thee, Blaidd."

"Then, if you trust me, I will follow you to the end," said Blaidd.

Chapter Text

Miquella's fame spread throughout the Lands-Between. So much so that great multitudes of people gathered everywhere he preached, impressed by his wisdom and vision. When he came to the merchant's caravan, he made no formal announcement, as Malenia did not want to draw attention to him. But once he spoke, the bustling space, full of noise as people attempted to wheel a bargain, grew silent the moment Miquella opened his mouth.

Every word Miquella spoke was like pure gold, captivating everyone's attention. It was like everyone, whose only fixation was on the accumulation of wealth, was now in a trance. Miquella's wisdom and vision were purer and more divine than the gold on which Marika built her entire kingdom.

He spoke of an age where there were the blessings of the Erdtree, but they were multiplied seventyfold. Miquella would not bring his age by the sword, as was done in ages past, but in compassion and love. Miquella would not ride at the head of armies, brandishing weapons, but the tranquility of a gentle sleeping flower. And these blessings would not come as drops of dew from the leaves of a great tree but as a flowing river.

"And it would be such that all creatures came and drank freely of this gentle stream. So shall we see the mighty Lion coming to sit near a gentle little lamb and partake of water's crisp purity. For there shall be none without in this great age of infinite abundance."

Malenia stood at a distance so as not to allow even a quick glance to draw attention away from her brother, who had promised a world where all that was cursed would find a place; thus, all things would flourish. Such a beautiful promise left Malenia concerned about its meaning.

As Miquella's words drifted back to her ears, she clutched the arm he built for her.

Her hand was a cold, dead thing with metal and bolts that made up the joints and structure. As a young child, Malenia was all too eager to participate in whatever experiment he wanted to try. Now, Malenia felt tired and worn. The arm often rubbed and pinched against her skin and usually felt heavy to where she wanted it removed whenever possible. And within a month or two, the rot wore it out, destroying the intricate gears and pullies that made it work. Miquella used this opportunity to improve the design, but then it meant Malenia had to wait, sometimes weeks, to have her life back as Miquella attempted, and again failed, to create something that appeased both form and function. It was hard to sort through these emotions. On the one hand, Malenia was full of gratitude. Despite its flaws, Miquella poured the entire measure of his wisdom and time into grafting every component. She couldn't enjoy her life without its burden. And while he designed it as nothing short of a work of art and a miracle of engineering, there was still one fundamental fact that Malenia could not deny: It was not her arm.

Miquella could recreate an arm in function but could do nothing to bring the feeling back. There was a comfort in subtle memories of walking through the garden, holding her twin brother's warm hand. Even as the nerves began to die, and all she could feel was pressure, at least it was something. At least, pain was something. To have her brother take on such a task, even to go beyond the ability of the Golden Order to give Malenia a second lease on life. But even with such generosity, was it wrong to mourn what was no more?

Malenia kept these thoughts private, disclosing them only to Medjai. For it would only upset Miquella if he knew that his efforts fell short because he could not understand the full grasp of her suffering. If her arm was missing, in Miquella's mind, she simply needed a new one. And while he always promised to make her life better, he could never promise to make her whole.

"I am one who was born of a single god," declared Miquella.

The statement was a heavy gravity that pulled Malenia away from her thoughts. Miquella shared this feeling before with his twin, and Malenia warned him not to grow too vocal about it. It was utterly against the teachings of the Golden Order, which insisted a goddess must, whereby, too, have a consort, and Miquella offered no other proof than his own feeling of the matter. He grew obsessed with the idea and the concept that he might neither be male nor female and went through varying evidence that could have been interpreted in other ways.

At least he declared it among the outcasts instead of the Golden Order Fundamentalists, who would see this as further evidence that Miquella ought not to displace their Order. Still, it was concerning enough that, when they walked home afterward, Malenia gave her brother a sound scolding.

"But it's true, Malenia," Miquella insisted.

"That's not how things work," Malenia retorted.

"But Mother is a goddess. I know everyone says Radagon is my father. And that's still true, but there's more to it, Malenia. There must be more to what I am if my age is to surpass both Ranni's and Mother's. Even your age," said Miquella. "An utopia."

"Our father. And things don't become true on our wishes alone," said Malenia.

There was a moment of silence before Miquella, seemingly out of nowhere, stated, "I hate how you're always with Medjai."

Malenia sighed. This again! She understood Miquella's frustration. He was the one who had convinced their father to bring Medjai to Leyndell and plead with the Greater Will to allow him entrance. But Miquella's expectation seemed under the impression that the great swordsman who had once fought and sealed away the rot would somehow have a cure for Malenia. Yet, as Miquella found out, sealing and curing were two very different things.

Medjai had long given up any care for abolishing the rot. As he put it, "That would be no better than draining away all the water just because a good friend drowned." His teachings were more about control and balance within Malenia so that she might claim the power for herself through a more enlightened concept than the reckless and baleful destruction of her predecessor. She could bring it out as needed to prune back the world in the autumn, rule in the winter, and then yield to the spring so that the world might bloom anew.

It was upsetting to Miquella, and while Malenia didn't wish to lose hope herself, she was what she was. There were no winner-take-all gambits, no matter what Rykard tried to say. It was more like a trade-off where one sacrificed in order to achieve. But there was also nothing she could do that would help Miquella understand that even as a goddess, even changed as something different, there might still be room for him in her world.

Their walk home was interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind. At first, Malenia had thought that it was one of the multitudes. It wasn't unusual for someone to always follow along and beg the young Empyrean to tell them more of his world. Nonetheless, Malenia pushed Miquella behind her so that she could stand between him and the stranger.

"Who's there?" said Malenia, putting her hand on the haft of her blade.

"Forgive me for listening to your conversation, but I find it interesting that the one reputed for his great kindness towards others and desire to merge all things as one would not apply such a principle to his own sister," said the stranger. He continued, "Maybe that is why you use this word 'utopia.' It is not the same as 'paradise,' but rather means that what you speak is not something to be found anywhere in the world."

Malenia flicked her thumb to free her blade from its scabbard. She could only make a blurry outline of where the man stood, but it was enough to cut him down.

"Who are you?" Miquella asked.

"Forgive me, Kind Miquella, as I have seemed to put your bodyguard on edge, and rightly so. I am Sir Ansbach, and I come as an ambassador to my Lord," said the man.

"Which Lord?"

"I am not privy to say."

"So you take the title of a knight and come as a Lord you will not name. Why should I not cut you down?"

"Come now, My Lady. We are both warriors here. I fully understand your need for caution. But not everyone carries the goodwill of the Golden Order. Was that not the basis of Kind Miquella's sermon not even one hour ago?"

"It's okay, Little Sister," said Miquella, taking her hand from her hilt and calming her aggression.

He walked with Sir Ansbach a ways that were far enough to have a more personal conversation, but not so far that Malenia could not strike him down in one blow. In return, either to ease Malenia or merely out of habit, Ansbach walked with his hands behind his back so that he couldn't draw his weapon so quickly.

Miquella was annoyed as well and gave Sir Ansbach his first fair warning: "You mustn't provoke my sister. I can't control her when she's provoked."

"Do you control her, or does she willingly serve you?" Sir Ansbach asked.

"She serves me willingly, and perhaps I should rephrase that I won't control her if she's provoked. I believe she did ask you a fair question," said Miquella.

"I think, for now, my Lord's ambition should speak well enough for him. And his interest in you, young demigod, is the words you preach concerning the unity of all things, including that which is rejected by your mother's current Order."

"Things shouldn't be cast away or cursed merely or existing," said Miquella.

"And what if that thing is a Rune Bear determined to devour you?"

"Why would it want to devour me?"

"I see you lack experience with Rune Bears."

"No. There's just a way to calm them," said Miquella.

"To the point, then. Why are you so keen on seeing your sister's rot cured when you preach about all things being welcomed in your world?"

"Who said anything about my sister having the rot?"

"Come now. The scent alone is enough to tell. It's not the putrid, disgusting stench of decay but of the rich black soil. This indicates that she is the heir to the power of the rot and is meant to be its goddess. And you mention the man Medjai who had previously sealed the rot away. What need have you of him if not dealing with the scarlet rot?" said Sir Ansbach. "Is there perhaps a more selfish motive that drives your ambition forward?"

"What difference does that make? Whether it be for myself and my sister or for others, why shouldn't we have a better world?" said Miquella. "Maybe the better question is why your so-called 'Lord' even questions such a thing."

There were a million different responses that Sir Ansbach could approach the question, but his aim was to establish a moral foundation for Miquella's acts. For anything to work under Miquella's vision, he would have to place himself as a perfectly unselfish being. As it was, Sir Ansbach was not impressed. Yet, there was a piece of him drawn to the young Empyrean. A part that wanted to believe everything Miquella said, even as he intellectually knew the plan was naive and with no hope of working.

"And what should I report to my Lord?" Sir Ansbach asked.

"You should report to him that I am Miquella the Pure. And if he wants a place in true paradise, then he ought to forsake all his possession and title of Lord and follow one who will show this world its true age as Lord," said Miquella.

And with those words etched into Sir Ansbach's mind, he returned to his Lord within the depths, under the golden city. It was always said that if anyone wished to see the true measure of a tree's quality, to look at the health and strength of its roots.

The filth of the street was all pushed into this crevice and hidden away as though it didn't matter. There was a somber attitude when Sir Ansbach descended the ladder. Everyone was quiet, talking in whispers and doing none of their everyday chores to keep the place at least habitable. He had long grown used to the smell and the dampness that seemed to weep out of the rough cut stone walls. The omen, too, grew used to him as well, going about their business. Some children swarmed around, asking if Sir Ansbach had brought anything from the "place above," to which he would reply that he had not.

There was always a curiosity among the horned children that very often faded once they realized that this place was meant to remain their permanent home. The light of the sun and the golden rays from the Erdtree were not something they could ever enjoy. There was only a slight ray of hope when Morgott was said to leave the sewer. Still, despite being close with Morgott and his brother, Sir Ansbach didn't fully know the circumstances. It was hard to imagine it was some sort of charity.

He found Moghwyn in the chapel below, leaning over an altar. The entire place smelt of blood, and Moghwyn had looked over his dark magic.

"Oh, Mother. Dear, sweet Mother," muttered Mogh. "The one who conquered death for thy fair children, but not death for us?"

Sir Ansbach was puzzled, as Mogh usually did not dwell on these sorts of things for long. There was too much work to leave room for such thoughts.

"Lord Mogh?" said Sir Ansbach.

"The deception of that witch, the Fair Lady," said Mogh.

"I have said before that the Fair Lady was not to be trusted. She has the presence of those shape-shifting harlots once called the Shaman. I pray you, my Lord, that I bring good tidings."

"If only Mother loved us..."

"You have the love of a Mother, now Lord Mogh, as Formless as she is. There is no need to fret over one who always resented you."

Mogh said nothing as he lifted the doll of an accursed bairn from the alter and looked at it. He rubbed his finger over it as he remembered its meaning. At once, Sir Ansbach realized why the sewers had such a somber mood that day.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," said Ansbach as Mogh rested his forehead against the object and closed his eyes to prevent tears from flooding into them. "I will return another time, perhaps."

"It is well, Sir Ansbach. There is nothing to be done now," said Mogh as he placed the doll back on the altar.

"Perhaps it will please you to know that there is a ray of light."

"What ray?" said Mogh.

"Marika's son, known as the Kindly Miquella, has come of age and now preaches freely about his vision," said Sir Ansbach.

"It is a lie," said Mogh.

"It is perhaps possible that we might bring the empyrean down here that you might see his radiance for yourself..."

"I do not need anything from a demigod. Ones so fair bare curses so deep," said Mogh.

Chapter Text

Rykard better have an explanation as to why he couldn't tell Ranni his plan back in Leyndell. She wasn't fond of Volcano Manor. Its elaborate interior, instant hot water on tap, and expensive decor were all a cover for the horrors of the prisoner's village. Here and there, Ranni heard the faint cries of pain and pleas for mercy of the tormented souls of the "residences" and had to pretend she didn't. The sulfur from the volcano, while not a pleasant smell, was at least better than the stench of decayed corpses.

Officially, all executions happened in the nearby Shaded Castle, but there were many Marika, and the more significant Golden Order, wished to see disappear.

Of all the Carian Royals, it seemed Rykard was her favorite. She both scolded and disciplined him the most of all her stepchildren and then conspired with him as he became an adult. To ensure her control over life and death remained as absolute as possible, Marika recruited Rykard to do her "dirty work." It was horrid, and every aspect was designed according to Marika's will and whims. And since the Golden Order assumed that anyone who could not rise back from the dead anew was outside of grace, no one questioned these disappearances either.

The Carian siblings debated time and time again just how omnipotent Marika was, using the times they got away with things and the times they didn't as evidence of whatever side they wished to take. At this point, Ranni was undecided. She feared involving Rykard in her plot at all, as he had the most to lose if he ever betrayed Marika.

As Rykard led Ranni deeper into the manor and spent considerable time with pleasantries, she grew increasingly annoyed with him for delaying what he had brought her there for.

"I have given thee but one piece of instruction, Brother, and that was..."

"...not to meddle in my affairs," mocked Rykard, mimicking Ranni's voice. "Come now, Sister, I thought you said that for my safety."

"I did," said Ranni.

"Then allow me to throw all caution to the wind. You leave so much to fate, Ranni. Sometimes, I think it's worthwhile to give it a little nudge from time to time," said Rykard.

"A nudge or a firm push off a very steep cliff?"

"Now, now, dear Sister. I don't ever push anyone off cliffs when I could just convince them to jump," said Rykard.

"Like Godwyn?"

Rykard went quiet, and Ranni let it linger there.

"Sister, if you were only aware of his reputation with women..."

"Thou means much like thine own? What? Doth, thou not realize that I am fully aware of how many skirts thou hath lifted in thine youth? Or the concubines Radahn kept at his military camp? I wonder if Malenia is aware of all she saw as a child?" said Ranni.

"Boyhood flings and experiments are one thing, but there is something not right about Godwyn. And I would rather I find out before I allow you to be involved with him again," said Rykard.

"I will do what pleaseth me. Understand?"

She wasn't sure why she showed such a lack of respect towards her brother. It was Rykard, after all, who cared for her those terrible weeks after she gave birth and lived her life in a dream world. Even with his duties divided between Leyndell, the Shaded Castle, and the Volcano Manor, he still came to the Carian Manor frequently and checked in on his mother and sister. He even brought the Twin Prodigies with him, knowing how much Ranni loved them and Miquella's ability to touch even the most feeble of minds. Their mother did show considerable signs of improvement whenever he was near. Ranni often wondered if the world might be better off in Miquella's Age. Of course, unsettling enough, Ranni couldn't tell whether that was her sincere thoughts or Miquella's doing either.

But even with Rykard's kindness beyond anything that Ranni deserved, she couldn't deny it was Rykard and Radahn who long sought to destroy her relationship.

"Fine! None of that is why we're here anyway," said Rykard. "All I will say is that man carries a secret, and you best not lift your skirts for him again until you know what it is."

"Fine. Go on."

Rykard paused to ensure Ranni wouldn't try to get the last word and then continued, "It is my understanding from Renna's usual nonsensical rant that your next step is to find Alecto."

"She was meant to find me, from how I interpreted it," said Ranni. "Why? Hath thou heard of her?"

"She's been mentioned several times in the few fragments after Marika's Golden Order supplanted itself but appears as nothing more than a footnote in history. But what I can tell, she has some close ties with Marika."

"So Marika knows her?"

"Naturally, I can't imagine you can walk up to stepmother and just ask her. But at least we know she's real, and if she's real, she can be found," said Rykard.

When Rykard opened the door to the drawing room, Ranni was met with a creature she did not wish to see. It was on all fours and covered in armor with a yellow cape. Its helmet was a pointed bill and seemed to thrash around as it was chained to the wall. The moment they entered, it jumped and started to growl.

"No, Rykard. I will not accept help from that thing," said Ranni.

"Why not? Bloodhound Knights are notoriously good at tracking anything."

"Are they not loyal to one person?"

"Darriwil here is forlorn. His previous master... well, never mind that," said Rykard. Ranni gave him a flat stare. "He decided to take a quick dip in a volcano, and well, the lava happened to be a tad bit too hot that day."

"Thou art not making a compelling case," said Ranni.

"This isn't about loyalty as much as it is ability. We only need him to find Alecto. After that, we can have him walk in the lava to play with Magma Worm."

"Fine. So long as it's disposed of afterward," said Ranni.

Of course, Ranni would not allow that thing in the carriage with her as they headed south toward one of the lifts that led down into the Eternal Cities. She sat beside Rykard, with Blaidd driving the carriage and that creature Darriwil running alongside it.

She didn't want to even look at Rykard. There was something about those bloodhound knights that bothered Ranni. Some said they had the same stock as Maliketh but were farther removed from the beastman races as Blaidd, thus having much more human appearances. It was hard to say anything, as these wordless monsters never removed their masks.

"If this Alecto has ties with Queen Marika, we ought to begin our search in the Eternal Cities," said Rykard.

"Blaidd, Iji, and Moongram had already combed the cities and found nothing of interest," said Ranni.

"For Nokron or Alecto?"

"Fine! I understand thy point," said Ranni.

"Did Renna give you any more information?"

"She only mentioned Alecto once and said she would find me, so I am unsure why any of this is necessary."

"As I said, it's all about taking matters into your own hands, Sister," said Rykard, leaning back to take a nap.

Like Ranni, he had seen these roads over and over. So much so that the journey seemed to be forever. The land looked worse than it did thirteen years ago, and it was to get worse each passing year that Marika refused to relinquish her power. Liurinia continued to sink into the rot, and the leaders of Raya Lucaria were far too busy arguing over who should wear the stone crowns to look for any solution, temporary or otherwise.

Marika's war against the Liurinians was far more sophisticated than Ranni had previously thought. Rennala underestimated Marika because, as far as she remembered, Marika was no more than a child. And Marika did everything she could to ensure Rennala kept that perspective.

If it wasn't for Radagon coming to fall in love with Rennala, they might have suffered the same fate as the Hornsent and anyone else who stood in Marika's way.

They arrived at the lift that headed down towards the Sofria around nightfall, and already, the cold chill of the night started to seep in. While Ranni had traveled through this place, she never stopped here. The woods were full of creatures that, despite the great power Renna gifted her, she did not wish to encounter.

As they got out of the carriage, Ranni looked around. It was beautiful this time of night, with the clear sky and the moon shining brightly. It was almost like the day Rennala took her by the hand and led her into the woods to observe her Dark Moon. That night, the entire path was laid out in front of Ranni. Even if she could not see the whole thing from beginning to end, she at least knew the way was there and came more and more to light with each step she took. Ranni was disappointed when she thought how readily she gave all of this up.

"I don't like this, Mistress Ranni," said Blaidd as Rykard and Darriwil disappeared down the lift. "I've searched that well more than once already, and there's nothing there."

"Of course. We ought to go," said Ranni.

"And leave Rykard?"

Ranni smirked, "It's not as though a demigod has anything to fear here."

"That's a very low bar to set."

Ranni laughed, "Relax, Blaidd. I wasn't about to leave Rykard."

Ranni examined the lift. It was at least a good length down, and she wondered if her brother had reached the bottom yet. She almost wished to go down there herself, but Blaidd had stated it was too much danger for something that wouldn't further their cause. This was once the home of the Nox, the ancestors of those who worshipped stars, and remained home to a small yet functional society that only seemed to want peace with nature.

"Blaidd? Doth, thou think..."

Ranni looked back towards her shadow. He lay still on the ground as though something had struck him in the back of the head.

"Blaidd?" she gasped.

The sound of the elevator caused Ranni to back up towards it. She called for Rykard but soon felt a shove against her chest, which caused her to tumble down into the darkness.

Ranni woke to the sound of a flowing river and music floating through a beautiful purple night sky with a cluster of glittering stars. They were dazzling, but as Ranni kept staring, the stars were stagnant, unalive, and artificial. Made from specks of sparkling silver that reflected off the polished stone of the ruined buildings, and though impressive and beautiful, it was also lifeless and powerless. The music was from an older woman perched on one of the broken pillars. The melody was familiar, and it was a while before Ranni realized it was the lullaby her mother used to sing to her.

When the song was done, the woman took the flute from her mouth and stared at it.

"Alecto. The Eternal City. Your doggy is fine," said the woman. She looked directly at Ranni with the bluest eyes that Ranni had ever seen in the Lands-Between. "That should at least answer some of your questions."

"And what is wanted from thee?" Ranni asked.

Alecto threw her hands in the air, "You sought me out, Princess! Why is it that all Marika's brats see themselves as so important everyone is looking for them?"

"I am not of Queen Marika!"

"If you say so," said Alecto.

Ranni bit back the retort.

What did she want Alecto for? It seemed that in all her focus on working out her destiny, Ranni was left with more questions than answers. There was so much she could ask that Ranni wasn't sure where to begin, so she started at the beginning.

"I seek the dark path," said Ranni.

"Walking the Dark Path, are you? Congratulations! And what makes you think I would even care to help you?"

"Because Renna said to seek thee out," said Ranni.

"Renna? Of course, Renna would say that. So, I assume you are looking your way into Nokron, too? Unfortunately, Marika sealed that away long ago at the behest of the Two-Fingers."

"Why?"

"Because in this world, there is such thing as knowing too much, Princess," said Alecto. She cocked her head. "You don't know much, do you?"

"How can anyone know much in a world ruled by the Golden Order?"

"At least we agree on that. Unfortunately, Nokron is out of reach,"

"For thee perhaps."

"For everyone. Even for a demigod. Unless the stars wish to intervene, but we both know that's impossible now. That's probably why the Golden Order allowed Radahn to take such a drastic step for what, by all accounts, was nothing more than a small invasion in Sellia. It's in the best interest of the Golden Order to have it sealed," said Alecto. She leaned closer to Ranni, "I will tell you everything, Princess, but understand that I am no loyalist. Especially not to an unproven princess. I will not leave any loose ends."

"I have skill at my disposal already. Why is it that I shall ask thee for assistance?" Ranni asked.

"Knowledge, Princess! Marika may fill this world with gold and grace, but knowledge remains the only reliable currency in the Lands-Between. I know exactly what you will need to free the dark path. So, what say you, Princess?"

Ranni bit her lip. Renna's warning about the dark path was still lingering in her mind. All the sacrifices that she might be asked to make in the name of gaining an uncertain future. Ranni wasn't even sure what sort of age she might expect to build upon the Order of the Stars. It might be good, and it might be evil. People she loved might die to see it happen.

But ultimately, Ranni accepted the accord.

Ranni was found by Rykard shortly after, and Alecto couldn't stop smiling as she watched the Princess depart from a distance where the Praetor wouldn't see her. She didn't wish to meddle with him and his long-standing schemes. Rykard was more interested in destroying people's legacy, and, despite Marika's betrayal of her and her fellow assassins, Alecto wasn't interested in such petty schemes.

Alecto briefly saw Tiche and told her daughter she wouldn't be long as she needed to speak with the head of their order.

A portal brought Alecto outside of Leyndell's capital. None of the guards stopped her as she crossed the bridge and passed the stone golems that stood as sentinels to the Divine Tower. She then went up the lift to the secret chamber and past the official who guarded the door. He was at first shocked to see Alecto, but he soon unlocked the heavy metal door, bowed, and backed away.

In the old office, a young woman ran her hand over the objects in the room as though they were familiar to her, but her face showed she could not place them where. With one open eye, she examined them that once belonged to her.

"Melina," said Alecto.

"Is that my name?" the girl asked, her hand still on the black ledger on the table. It was a ledger of all those Marika expected the girl to bring death to. Touching it brought back those glimmers of memories to Melina. She remembered her brother, Messmer, who thought of her as nothing more than a child and remained unaware of her comings and goings under their mother's orders. She remembered her lover, Commander Guias, who made her feel human for the first time since she realized how she was created and conceived.

There was just one final thing her mother told her that Melina could not remember.

"It's what Marika called you when you were born at the foot of the Erdtree," replied Alecto. "But it's your purpose that's important, Melina. And we're one step closer to it. Lunar Princess Ranni has decided to undertake the Dark Path."

"Hummm," said Melina.

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"The only thing that matters is that the new age is set in motion that when the Tarnished come, they may shape it into whatever world they desire," said Melina. "One day, Mother will reveal her final wish to me."

Chapter Text

When Radahn invited Malenia out for a walk, it was long overdue. He needed to understand Malenia's thoughts on the upcoming wedding without Miquella's brooding influence. Miquella didn’t seem always aware of how much weight his abilities carried or understand the consequences of causing people to act against their nature. While Radahn understood her twin meant well, Malenia had a right to her own opinion.

While beautiful, Miquella's vision of an age of abundance and compassion was both short-sighted and impossible. There needs be opposition in all things. An Age could only exist parallel to another age, one that actively worked against it to prevent those who labored under Miquella’s world not to become idle, but instead, grow strong in the face of resistance.

Malenia was that twinned Age—opposition that would create genuine compassion, spur true gratitude, incite purpose, and build strength in the individual. Miquella needed Malenia, not healed and restored, but as she was—perhaps more than she needed him. Radahn needed Malenia to understand this, regardless of how much she was afraid of her disease. His Age of Fallow, that he built his army to create, needed a goddess with the power to destroy and make a world that could be rebuilt.

Malenia accepted General Radahn's invitation, and she insisted they walk together through the Wild Garden. This concerned Radahn when he met with her, but found Malenia hadn’t arranged a proper chaperon. She assured Radahn everything would be fine. So long as they were in there, she would be safer and more comfortable than with any person the Golden Order might appoint.

It seemed she had part of Miquella's power to persuade, because Radahn accepted. While he wanted Malenia somewhere she was comfortable, the Wild Garden? Marika forbade anyone from entering there, though the twins often ventured there when they were young. Radahn had no idea that Malenia still held this place for herself or how she could feel comfortable there. Even with the lack of a paths and so little eyesight, Malenia knew the area well. Her hand moved over each tree's trunks and felt the texture of the bark, then glanced over the brushes, letting her fingers feel the shape of their fruit. She loved this place, in fact.

"I'm told you've gained quite the reputation," said Radahn.

Malenia smiled.

"My Knight Freyja is a former champion in the arena and mentioned wanting to show you a real challenge," said Radahn. "Medjai had done well for you. Him and Miquella."

"I'm not sure how much can be done," said Malenia. Her voice was soft and void of any hope as she clutched her shoulder where her artificial arm connected.

"Have you considered fighting this battle isn't what's meant to happen?"

Malenia paused in a small grove in front of a bed of lilies. The grip on her artificial arm tightened and looked as though she was about to tear the thing from her shoulder. The grass that grew with the lilies was rich and green, and the flowers above continued to flourish year after year. She placed her hand on the bed and closed her eyes as she realized the bed had been nurtured with her putrid blood.

Radahn came from behind and pulled her long red hair gently away from her neck.

"Don't fight the pain. Don’t deny it’s there. Feel every moment of it. It's the only way to heal," said Radahn. His hands moved from her hair to over her shoulders and then her hand to relax it away from her prosthesis.

"I don't want this," said Malenia. "I just want to live as myself... This that afflicts me is a curse and not to be meddled with."

"Then let me, Miquella, and everyone you call friends carry you like wings through the fight. So you can live as your own self," said Radahn.

Their first kiss was chaste, and it was followed by a second, more passionate one. But then soon interrupted by the rustling of leaves, which only Malenia, with her keen hearing in the absence of her sight, picked up.

"I just want to be alone for a moment," said Malenia.

Radahn respected Malenia's wishes. He had gotten what he wanted from the conversation: an understanding of Malenia's thoughts. With his hand under her chin, Radahn promised to check on her later that day.

As Malenia sat alone on the stone bench, Mr Margit appeared, which Malenia identified by his unique scent. He placed a friendly hand on Malenia's shoulder. She took it with a smile and closed her eyes.

"Remember when I asked why I couldn’t marry you?" she mused.

"Thou were but a child," said Mr Margit.

"I was a child when it was arranged for me to marry Radahn. I was so angry to learn that," said Malenia.

"That thou was as it was not thy choice. But how doth thou now feel?"

Malenia leaned forward with her hands folded under her chin. She frowned, "I am well to be with Radahn. I think, I do love him that way. All that he provided me has shown his concern for my well-being, but I fear for his life if we were to... I feel this blight every day, writhing within me,” she looked up at her friend with tears in her eyes. "I'm in pain, Margit... so much pain... everyday, it's like my blood burns. I wish this rot would never have come to me and cursed me with its disease."

Mr. Margit embraced her, resting his cheek on her head.

"I know, Fair Lady. I know," said Mr. Margit.

Chapter Text

Rykard littered his office with a blanket of papers as he rifled through his drawers and shelves. He recalled the woman's scarred face and that defiant look as though there was nothing he could do to her, but not where and how he came across her and her cult. Once convinced that nothing might come of its contents, Rykard did with the report what he did with all others: put it away in the drawer to forget about it. But he needed to cash in on the dividends of all the secrets he accumulated over the years. He recalled the potential of this information to create a sizable scandal if he could find the other pieces of the puzzle and put it all together. With Ranni now finally showing a serious effort to take control of her own destiny, he needed every scrap of blackmail he could find to ensure she did not grow distracted again.

"What was her name?" he muttered, skimming over the cramped, slanted cursive, only to find nothing. There were accusations, confessions that may or may not be true, and ridiculous rumors of a tarnished inter-dimensional being thieving about under the dumb name of "Patches" --- or some nonsense like that.

"Rykard? Husband."

Rykard slammed the drawer closed.

"Tanith," he said, his back straight and his lip stiff.

"You fret so much over Godwyn as though there was something to gain by assassinating his character," she said.

Rykard's mounting frustration over the situation caused him repeatedly to question why he bothered to marry Tanith. Things were well enough between them without, and it wasn't as though his parents or the Golden Order would ever approve of such a thing. There was nothing between them save their typical perchance for scheming, and even then, they didn't have goals that aligned.

"And you speak as though I needed your council."

Tanith yanked the paper from Rykard's hand.

"House Marias is already waiting, and your brother and half-sister are expected later today. Yet here you are, continuing to harass that poor man as though he's done anything wrong."

"Tanith, this is not the time."

"It is the time! If you were truly serious about making any difference, then why not make your war against the real issue? The Erdtree itself."

"We are not talking about this."

"What are you afraid of, Rykard? Losing all of this? Your position? Your wealth? Is any of that meaningful compared to seeing yourself on the throne as Lord?"

His face was up against Tanith's.

"Tanith, shut up!"

She shoved him back.

"I will not, this time. You forget that a son's flaws are the sign of a flaw of the mother. And it is the mother who deserves your wrath. Why are you not opposing the goddess who has left this land cursed? Why are you not destroying Marika?"

The noise of Rykard's hand was deafening as it smacked against Tanith's cheek. The force sent her sprawling to the floor, almost like it was in slow motion. He could move in disbelief at what he had just done. There were flickers of denial.

He couldn't have done that! But he did.

Rykard struggled with both his desire to comfort her with apologies and kisses, but he froze at the sound of Tanith holding in the sobs. He couldn't even look at her. He made a frustrated noise as his mind lingered between regret and blame.

The couple had quarreled numerous times, even to the point of becoming physical, but these incidences were the result of a night of heavy drinking. He had never struck Tanith, and never touched her to the point of drawing blood, which now dripped from the corner of her mouth.

Rykard went out to the prisoner's village, where there were pillars of black smoke pluming out from the burned mass graves. He had never seen this place before as it was out of sight from the manor grounds. It was designed by the Golden Order to separate the Praetor from the consequences of the horrid nature of his work. It was easier to order an execution of hundreds of heretics if he didn't have to see their faces. It was easier to ask if the evidence burned when he didn't have to smell the stench.

It was like every crime the Golden Order forced him to commit was a horrible weight around his neck. He even saw the vision of the shackles that commoners wore around their necks, now hanging from his own.

Rykard just watched.

He didn't know what it was that made the people within the area of the manor go crazy and have a lust for harming others. Every guard and soldier he brought took to it like it was natural, no matter how green the man was. But as he watched one of the guards disembowing a man as he begged for mercy, He covered his ears, but it did nothing. The sinister hissing noise replaced the screams of pain, and the burning villages melted until he saw the gaping fangs and grossly widened mouth gaping open to swallow him.

Rykard returned to the manor, dabbing his face with his handkerchief and making a half-hearted apology to Inquisitor Ghiza, who had waited patiently in the top chamber of the manor. Accompanying the Inquisitor was his nephew, a lad of twelve named Maleigh Marias, and the heir as head of their household of executioners. It wasn't unusual, of course. Maleigh was of an age where it was common for a boy to start making the connections he needed to make his mark on the world.

The boy looked far from interested. From what Rykard knew of him if given a choice, Maleigh would take to his hobby of sculpting statues instead of executing prisoners.

If the Inquisitor was annoyed, he didn't show it. Making it known would not have any consequence for Rykard.

"Then we shall get to the matter at hand," said Inquisitor Ghiza, again with his fried, raspy voice.

And so the Inquisitor droned on with his reports: prisoners set for execution, those who were executed, and by what method. Any persons of interest who might have attended the said executions that might need further investigation. The state of the castle and the budget needed to run it...

Young Maleigh had already grown bored and took to wandering about the room. He went out to the banister and climbed up to sit and watch the servants scurry about the manor in preparation for Radahn and Malenia's arrival. Typical of his family, he, too, showed signs of illness, with a few bandages on his arms and legs to cover over the open lesions.

There was never any consensus on the illness, nor did Rykard bother to ask. Something that it seemed all males of the household carried from birth. As unsightly as it was, people in the Lands-Between had an attraction to power, so there was no shortage of women willing to marry into the family line to raise their position.

Ghiza was only about halfway through his balance sheet and talking about the number of arrows needed for a somewhat creative execution when Rykard cut him off.

"I'm sure it's all in order, Ghiza," said Rykard.

"Really? It was you that insisted I account for everything," said Ghiza, just as annoyed with this manner. It seemed he felt that if Rykard made him do this- obviously because Rykard didn't trust him- he would just be content in making the Praetor sit through it.

"Just chop off his head!" said Rykard, snatching the balance sheet from Ghiza's hand. "Of course, if your accounting is halfway as creditable as your investigation skills."

"I have done as you asked," said Ghiza, annoyed that Rykard continued to bring up his bungled investigation even thirteen years later.

"Do you know how close you and I came to both losing our heads if that..."

Rykard paused.

"Lhutel!" Rykard said as he slapped his forehead. "That heretic's name was Lhutel!"

Ghiza was puzzled and looked back at his nephew, who was focused on something happening below in the main hall. Ghiza figured he must have spotted one of the pretty serving girls because the boy was leaning over, staring at whatever caught his attention.

It wasn't long before one of the servants came in and whispered to Rykard that Radahn and Malenia had arrived.

"I don't care!" shouted Rykard as he slammed his fists into the desk. He then put his head in his hands, "Fine! Fine."

Radahn waited out in the entry hall with his arms crossed and surly, as usual. The general's arrogance had inflated so much since his feat of halting the stars that any minor inconvenience annoyed him. Malenia was more level-headed and patient. She kept herself occupied and laughed at something Finlay said as her friend readjusted the prosthesis.

Malenia caught the young Marais's attention. Typical of a boy his age, he focused on a pretty girl and could never show any business dealings. Malenia was relatively comfortable in her half-brother's home, so she made less effort to hide her healing scabs and wounds.

"Scram!" Rykard scolded the youth, and Marias scurried off.

Rykard feigned a smile as he greeted his siblings, first hugging Radahn, "Brother!" then kissing Malenia's cheek, "and sister."

"It is quite the pleasure," Rykard continued.

"Of course. We're on our way to see Mother."

"Is that so? And you didn't think of bringing along Miquella? He's a talent for healing even a crippled mind, and Mother is rather fond of him."

Radahn glanced at Malenia, who also seemed to notice something was off about Rykard. His shirt showed visible sweat stains under the armpits, which, though Malenia couldn't see, she probably could smell. Even Finlay, who no one could fathom a guess at what she was thinking in that cluttered mind, grew uncomfortable and kept looking back at the door where her foster father waited just outside.

Malenia soon alleviated her friend's suffering by dismissing her.

"It's good to see you two. Please make yourselves at home. I have a rather urgent matter to attend to," said Rykard.

"Now?"

"Well, you know how it is," shrugged Rykard

"I do not," said Malenia. "You're the one who invited us."

Radahn grabbed Rykard's shoulder to pull him aside.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing that you ought to concern yourself with," said Rykard.

"Don't play games with me," Radahn growled. "What are you and Ranni up to?"

"Come now, Brother. What makes you think I'm up to anything?"

"Because you're always up to something."

"Important things. Now, get out of my way."

"Is this about Godwyn?" Radahn whispered, making sure that Malenia couldn't hear.

Rykard didn't answer.

"Rykard, don't you play these games."

"You're one to talk. After you nearly brought an entire civil war down on the Lands-Between over your own wounded pride."

Despite the anger and embarrassment written on his face, Radahn held in his temper. His fingers clutched tight into a fist, and his face started to redden, but he dared not even raise his voice.

Thirteen years wasn't a long time for a demigod, but it was enough time for him to think about and consider his actions after he accused Godwyn of assaulting Ranni with no proof. This led to him kidnapping Malenia when she was still a sickly child in need of constant care and causing considerable stress to Miquella in separating him from his twin.

There was nothing that Radahn wouldn't do to put that immaturity aside and walk away without the stain on his honor. That was not possible and, by default, caused him to lose any moral argument he could possibly make to his siblings.

"Marika's patience for us won't last forever, Rykard."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm warning you! You don't want to make that mistake."

"Well, that's quite the admittance. Did Miquella work his magic on you?"

"So what if it did? At what point do we come to terms with the fact the Golden Order is here and brought about the most stability the Lands-Betwen had ever seen in its entire history."

"Well, it's making you kiss the ass of Queen Marika, which is well enough for me. And don't worry about me making the same stupid mistake you did, Brother."

"Ha! And yet, here you go! As though you're any better."

"I'm not motivated by senseless ego and wounded pride. Good day to you, Brother. I shouldn't be gone long."

More important than the recall of the name Lhutal was also the recall of the circumstances. She was the alleged heretic who claimed service of what she called "soulless demigods." Ghiza, seeing it as his opportunity to show his ability to root out heretics, took to a very detailed and lengthy investigation that took years of effort, money, and time. The investigation soured when it was shown they had a pardon from Queen Marika, which effectively granted them the right to do whatever they wished. Sure, those pardons were less than a guarantee. Still, if Marika ever needed to "revoke" these privileges, she would have asked Rykard personally to make them disappear, usually by hiring the assassins of Ravensmount.

She had not.

This was all unusual by itself, and, at the time, Rykard would live with the questions like he always did in the past. After all, Marika did have a private life --- one that not even her own children were privy to. She wasn't always a goddess, and while Ranni was successful in piecing parts of her past together, much of her life remained behind in shadow.

Once Rykard remembered the name, finding Lhutel wasn't all that difficult. She still resided in Limgrave and, after a few bribes and some questions, found Lhutel made daily visits to the Forth Church of Marika.

She knelt before the statue of the Queen Eternal and prayed before the statue, muttering words that Rykard did not pick up.

"Odd to see a heretic praying to the goddess she supposedly works against," said Rykard.

Lhutel threw her spear, which only narrowly missed the side of Rykard's head. He pulled the stuck spear from the brick for which it was wedged.

"Do you always carry a weapon when you pray?" Rykard asked. He tossed the spear back to Lhutel.

"You were already told we operate with both the permission and under the protection of Queen Marika," said Lhutel.

"I'm not here to arrest you," said Rykard.

"What, then?"

"Whose bodies occupy the Walking Mausoleums?"

Lhutel laughed, "Come now, Praetor. Allow Queen Marika to keep some things to herself."

"You claimed they were demigods. How? Where did they come from?"

"As I said before, they are Queen Marika's children."

"You have. But that only answers part of my question. Who is their father?"

"You assume demigods need one. Who their mothers are is a much more interesting question," said Lhutel.

"I am not in the mood for riddles. Answer directly or…"

"Or what, Praetor?"

Lhutel was right. He could do nothing to her or against her. If he had a month to plan, perhaps Rykard might devise a way for her to "disappear" while he extracted the information he wanted, but even that was too much of a risk.

"You are devilishly obnoxious to have a conversation," said Rykard.

"Not if you ask the right questions."

"Whose children are they?"

"Are you afraid they're yours?"

"Are they?"

"No. They are not, which is a small blessing. Unless you had an affair with your stepmother," said Lhutel.

"Are they of the Golden Lineage then?"

Lhutel thought carefully about the question then answered, "Yes, there are unwanted children within the Golden Lineage."

"The Golden Order… I thought that Marika loved Godfrey."

"She did. But if it isn't plain to you, ailments and deformities are quite common in Marika's bloodline. Surely, you are aware."

Of course, Rykard was, and he was certain someone like Lhutel was not privy to that guarded secret. But her knowledge of Marika's descendants was intriguing and almost terrifying. Why did Marika let her live when Lhutel clearly knew so much she did not wish others to find out?

Rykard struggled with how to ask the next question. It was only recently that Rykard bothered to notice the resemblance between Marika and Radagon. It was uncanny, really. And then their endorsement and allowance of Radahn's engagement to Malenia under the excuse that demigods were not privy to the impure blood of mortals and the failings of incest left a lot to wonder.

"Are any of them of Godwyn?"

Lhutel sighed, "If you want answers about the Golden Lineage, why don't you ask Godrick the Golden?"

"That nitwit? You mean he's telling the truth?"

"I don't recall any of your dogs going to kill him for openly declaring it."

"You must be joking. That feeble thing? He and his milk-drinking brother cannot be a child of Marika."

"Not exactly a child, but somewhere down the line," said Lhutel.

"So there was a bastard."

Rykard almost had to laugh. "And who is the mother, if that is the right question?" He asked.

"That I am not sure. If there is a mother, her identity is well hidden," said Lhutel.

Rykard was elated to know that he was, in fact, right all along concerning Godwyn, and at last, it will now have consequences.

He had to play his hand cautiously and exercise patience. While the accusation alone was damning enough, it was a story that people were interested in. And if he could weave one based on verified evidence, all the better.

As he practically danced out of the church, Lhutel returned to her prayer but soon gave a laugh and said, "Idiot."

Chapter Text

Miquella lay in the field of silver lilies as he stared up at the moonlit sky. Among the great round, silver moon and the still stars saw him a spot of amber frozen in its place as was the other celestial bodies in the firmament. He reached out his hand, imagining himself catching that speck in the palm of his hand.

Perhaps it was small and insignificant in the entire scheme of the void's expanse, but for Miquella, it was everything. That little spot that appeared the day he was born had, until the Starscourge, directed every moment of Miquella's life. It stayed its course, steady and true, guiding his comings and goings, but now that it was stilled, Miquella wondered if it was possible to pluck it from the night sky.

"Miquella, what troubles you?"

It caused him to pause his concentrated thoughts and smile at the young girl lying next to him with her hand under her chin. Her voice carried a soft tenderness that knew only love.

She was love.

She was his love. Miquella discovered her, when he put himself into a deep sleep, that he could see what it was about his spell that vexed Malenia. When he found her within him, she brought upon the Empyrean a great sense of fascination that he could bring her into being. Miquella went to work. He sculpted, formed, refined, and rebuilt until she became her own person, both separate and still him. A will that could magnify his capacity to show that love to others. Unlike him, she never tired of caring for others. Never grew impatient. Never knew a malicious thought. No selfishness. Only the well-being of others.

Trina, as Miquella called her, became his favorite companion. Every night, he cast his spell into a deep sleep so that he might come to where she was, lay down beside her gentle soul, and speak the things that weighed the most on his mind.

"I just wonder about things," said Miquella.

Trina snuggled up against Miquella's chest as they sprawled out on the carpet of flowers.

"You shouldn't worry so, Kind Miquella."

"Yes, but look at me, my beautiful Trina. My twin is nearly grown, and I am still but a child. Is it because my fate was also caught up in Radahn's scourge? Would it be that if I could release the amber star from its place in the heavens, I would at last release myself?"

"Why need you to release yourself, Miquella? What Radahn had done, he had done out of the love and care he had for others. And you should love what he loves."

"But my curse, this form... leaves everything I do unfinished."

"Not all things must be finished by you. Your work can be continued at the hands of others, Sweet Miquella. All that is needed is your inspiration to seek to do likewise. They will no longer seek relics, talismans, or means of power but instead for you. And they will find you in their love for each other," said Trina.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss: one of many the two halves shared. How precious that tender silver lily was to him.

When Miquella woke, he was in a key between two cliff faces. One day, he and Melania stumbled upon it and claimed it for themselves, as every generation of Marika’s children did before. They enjoyed their own adventures there whenever Malenia's illness allowed. But as Malenia grew, it became less of a part of her, leaving it all to her twin for whatever purpose he wished. So, Miquella found it the perfect place to hide his other half within the dream world. Thus, he called the place Saint Trina's Hideaway.

A light rumbling in the sky caught Miquella's attention, indicating an incoming storm. How long had he slept? The sun had risen high in the blue sky when Miquella had laid down here, and now it was coming past dark. The chill came into the air, and Miquella rubbed his arms to stave off the cold.

"Are you ready to go?"

Miquella did not realize Malenia had remained there the entire time. He had not invited her at all. When darkness began to fall, and he did not return, Malenia knew where to seek him. Perhaps she even knew about Trina. He could never be sure, as Malenia always said less than she thought.

"Because Father is likely already worried," Malenia continued. She clutched her sword and used it to push herself off the ground. There was a wince, and Malenia paused as she struggled to hold herself up. Miquella rushed to help her, only for Malenia to wave him off.

"It's fine," she muttered. Once on her feet, Malenia reached for her prosthesis, which she laid beside herself while waiting. She often took it off because the weight of the materials bore down on her shoulders.

The shaman blood within both of them allowed Malenia to bond with the things in nature. Still, Malenia wasn’t doing well with the prosthesis. Of course, it was a step higher than she had before, and Malenia couldn’t be more grateful to her brother. But the numerous drawbacks continued to frustrate her.

Malenia opened and squeezed her hand to ensure the gears and levers still functioned and hadn't rotted out. Miquella placed her other hand against his cheek before returning to Leyndell.

"Malenia?" Miquella asked.

"Humm?"

"Do you think we might visit the merchants?"

"It's late, Miquella."

"Yes, but I still wish to see them. See how they fare accepting the guidance of grace and the gifts of the Erdtree.”

"Merchants just like money, Miquella."

"Not anymore. They want only Mother’s grace.”

"Can we not see them in the morning?"

"I wish to see them now," said Miquella.

"Very well, but only for a brief moment. I'd rather not hear Father scolding me about losing his favorite child," said Malenia.

"Come now! Father loves you, too! You're both warriors, after all."

"Aside from that, we have very little in common."

"Not true! You have everything in common with Father. Look at your red hair," said Miquella.

It gave Malenia at least a small reason to smile.

“Watch this!” said Miquella. He concentrated and cast three rings that shot out against three trees. "I intend it a gift for Father. It mixes Golden Order Fundamentalism and everything Ranni taught us about intelligence."

Malenia rubbed his head before kissing his head, "And that's why you're his favorite."

“Maybe I should tell him that you made it.”

“Ha! As though he’d believe that.”

It was quite a way to the caravan's encampment from where they were, but if they hurried, they might return to the palace before it grew too late. Radagon would still scold the two of them, Malenia especially, but it would be far less an issue than if they never arrived.

The moment they came across the encampment, Malenia sensed something wrong. In the lack of her sight, it wasn't what she heard that concerned Malenia, but rather what she didn't as they approached. They had visited this camp numerous times, and it was filled with laughter, mirth, and singing. There were card games in which the loser always groaned as the winner took his gains. Stories shared over a pint of ale. It was the sound of men who bonded over their triumphs and hardships. The twins were so familiar to the merchants that someone was always coming to greet them and show them inside, but there was no one. Not even the animals were there. Malenia could smell them, but they made no noise.

Only both eerie silence and darkness.

"Wait here," said Malenia, drawing her sword.

"Why?" said Miquella.

"Because I told you to," snapped Malenia.

Miquella grabbed her hand, "You can't just walk in there with a weapon drawn!"

"And whose to stop me? Now stay here."

Malenia stepped to avoid making any noise. It had been so long since she last wore shoes, as she needed her bare feet to note every grain of earth for even the slightest shift of movement. But all remained still.

It wasn't until Malenia's leg bumped something warm that she stopped. Her hand moved down to feel the bony hand held up to her and touch what was in its palm.

With a gasp, Malenia jerked away just as quickly as she felt something hot, like burning embers, yet moist and soft.

"What by my mother's name?" said Malenia.

"Malenia?"

"Miquella, I told you..."

Miquella soon grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Malenia, what happened to them?"

Miquella couldn't describe what Malenia couldn't see. But whatever infected them infected the entire caravan. They were all like motionless statues, holding their heads as though in agony. Some, it appeared, even plucked out their own eyes and offered them towards the sky.

"Malenia, did I do this?"

"Of course not," said Malenia. But she soon paused when she heard feet shuffle against the grass.

"Indeed you have."

"Sir Ansbach?" said Malenia upon recognizing that voice. She held out her blade. "I barely tolerate you as it is. Don't think I wouldn't cut you down for lying."

"It's no lie, Empyrean. I watched them for a time at the behest of my master. Since Miquella's preaching, they fell prey to this Frenzied madness. Bit by bit. It stands to reason that, indeed, the boy caused this," said Ansbach.

"I didn't! I didn't!" pleaded Miquella. He then looked back at Malenia, suddenly uncertain of himself. "Did I?" He then sighed in defeat as even Malenia began to doubt his innocence.

"Miquella, what did you do?" Malenia asked

"I-I only wished they followed what I said."

"Well, they had. Mindlessly. What manner of power is that boy?" asked Ansbach. Malenia's blade was to his throat the moment that he made even the slightest shuffle forward. Ansbach stepped back with both his hands raised. "Forgive me. I'm growing too excited. Clearly, the young Empyerean is unaware of the consequences of his actions."

Despite Miquella's attempt to cling to Malenia, his grasp soon slipped from hers.

She circled Ansbach, her blade to the side, though the old warrior knew the obvious opening was no more than a trap. If he took a strike, she'd beat his blade away and riposte with a single, devastating cut.

"Come now. Your blade is far from proven, Malenia, the Severed. Mine, on the other hand..." said Ansbach.

He, too, took hold of his weapon, which Malenia had no knowledge of. The sudden acceptance of her challenge caused a moment of doubt in Malenia's mind as she realized the disadvantage her lack of sight left her. But it did not matter now. She had raised the challenge, and it was now for her to see it through.

Her senses grew heightened. There was the stone that made noise, but as the rain began to fall, it would mask Ansbach's footsteps. If she were to win, it had to be quick.

"The first cut?" said Sir Ansbach. Again, Malenia hesitated. "Don't bring the challenge if you do not have the stomach for the fight."

"First blood," she agreed.

"Malenia, no," said Miquella.

For anyone else, a first-blood match meant only a minor cut. However, for Malenia, any cut, scrape, or abrasion was significant. She could bleed out, or worse, let it be a vassal for the scarlet rot to fester. She could lose another limb.

"Then let us be on with it!"

Sir Ansbach's weapon whistled through the air, and Malenia's first instinct was to jump back to avoid it. She managed to avoid the second, too, which came at the completion of the first. She could sense his steps as he moved in, but he always seemed to remain out of the range of her small shamshir. It was hopeless! There wasn't enough for Malenia to go by, so she might form a strategy. The third cut made contact with the tip of her sword. It wasn't by much. Just a little nick, but for Malenia, it was everything. The weapon was heavy and hooked just that little bit.

It was a polearm of some sort, like a halberd or scythe. She envisioned that shape in her mind and knew what risk she had to take.

When it returned for the next swing in a fluid motion by Ansbach, Malenia blocked it with her prosthesis, causing the blade to catch in the fine wood.

The swinging stopped, and Ansbach struggled to pull the blade loose. And with a quick whip of her blade, Malenia flicked the tiniest bit of flesh on Sir Ansbach's cheek.

"First blood," grinned Malenia.

Sir Ansbach nodded, accepting his defeat. "Very nice."

He then helped pull his weapon from Melenia's now severely damaged arm. Thankfully, it looked worse than it was. While the scythe split the wrist lengthwise, it was still functional, at least for now. Any significant impact was likely to cause it to fall apart.

Miquella already had his arms wrapped around Malenia's waist. When she kneeled before him, Miquella took her cheeks and scolded her for being so foolish.

"Malenia," he soon said, looking back at the catatonic corpses that scattered out throughout the fields of the merchant's encampment. "Look what I've done."

"It's okay," Malenia reassured him. "We'll go back to Mother. She'll know what to do."

"As touching as your relationship is with your dear sister, I have a good sense that we ought to make our way out soon," said Ansbach.

Malenia perked her ears, where she heard the shuffling of unsteady feet. First came one, making his way towards them and holding his head. His eyes were a flaming yellow, and he cried out in agony. More cries soon followed, surrounding the trio in their hallowing wails of pain.

Sir Ansbach attacked first, and Malenia was just a little behind. She locked on to one and, with a swing of her sword, severed his left arm. The feel of her blade upon flesh... human flesh was nothing like she might have imagined it. Sure, Malenia had thought for sure that it would, at some point, come down to this, but never so early. She was still just a child.

Sir Ansbach, on the other hand, was well acquainted and seasoned. He kept an alarming calmness as he swung his scythe.

"Keep fighting, or we all die!" shouted Sir Ansbach.

And so Malenia did until they cut their path through their enemies...

Were they enemies?

Malenia's hesitation as she realized that who she cut through were nothing more than victims caused one to cut her in the shoulder. She gave only a gasp, then a swing of her own blade to chop him.

No one in the party could say what they had just witnessed. They fled back to an old shack, and Ansbach slammed the door closed, bringing down the heavy bolt to latch it.

"That won't bar them for long. We ought to find a way to -- argue!" he cried, grabbing his head as the yellow flame seared into his mind. Malenia ran her blade, striking through the segments between the planks. The blood-curdling screams echoed out.

And then, it was silent again.

"They're gone," said Malenia. "For now."

"If you're hearing is even a fraction as good as your swordsmanship, my Lady, I am confident enough to take your word for it," said Sir Ansbach.

"Little Sister," said Miquella.

"I have to rest a bit," said Malenia as she slid down on the dirty wood floor to sit. When Miquella placed his hand over her forehead, she was feverish.

"May I?" said Ansbach. He pulled down Malenia's blouse to reveal a rather superficial cut on her right shoulder. "This? This is a scratch. It's nothing."

"I-it's not nothing," said Malenia as her trembles worsened. "It's the rot. Not to be trifled with by mere mortals..."

"Father is coming for us soon. Can you resist the rot until then?"

"Let it be," muttered Malenia.

"No! No. You have to fight. You have to fight for me," said Miquella.

"You can't save me from this," said Malenia.

Miquella grabbed her cheeks, "No. You will not ever tell me 'no.' It's not about saving you. It's about you saving me."

"No one can find us in the dark, and it's a long way until morning. I've never seen anyone resist the scarlet rot that long," said Ansbach. There was more wailing, which made running out of the question.

"She will. My sister will. She's no mortal. She's a demigod. Malenia! Little Sister! Look at me. I will save you. You hear me? I promise I will save you. I will find a way, and you will stay with me forever, my dearest twin."

Ansbach was startled as the monsters climbed up on the roof and began stomping around on the shingles, no doubt looking for a way in. Dust rained down from the rafters. When Sir Ansbach glanced out a window, careful to avoid their sinister gaze, he saw at least one banging its head against the wall.

"I haven't seen such reckless madness," said Malenia.

"No offense, my Lady, but do you see much at all?" Ansbach asked.

Malenia laughed as Miquella did what he could to repair her prosthesis so it wouldn't come apart if she had to take the sword up again. It wasn't perfect, but at least it could last a few blows. He then worked on her arm, washing it with clean water.

What she really needed was the regenerative potion that Miquella created from the distilled dew of the Erdtree. It was superior to the burning, searing agents the perfumers previously used. Though, if it got much worse, they would have to resort to that.

They went for the door now. At first, Ansbach assured them that it could hold, but it soon began to buckle and strain under the strength of their madness.

Then, the most extraordinary thing happened. Malenia, so ready to give up on life for a nick on the shoulder, stood and approached the door with her sword clutched in her broken prosthesis. Sir Ansbach stood beside her, shoulder to shoulder, as they intended to defend this small place. He had seen soldiers break before, but their minds never healed so quickly. And yet Miquella healed hers. She was focused and ready as the Frenzied beings threw themselves at the door to break it open.

When it splintered, Malenia and Ansbach hurled themselves at the beasts. Cutting and thrusting, even as the flames of Frenzie burned at their flesh. All they had to do was hold on... Hold until...

Ansbach spotted the flashes of red lightning from the dragon knights in the darkness. As they struck down, the multitudes of frenzied creatures made their run from the fields.

"Fortissax," said Malenia. "Fortissax commands the lightning."

That tiny bit of hope brought strength back into her. When her prosthesis failed, she picked up her blade with her left hand and continued.

They became like a dance, with Ansbach swinging his scythe to take out lines of them and Malenia finishing off whatever might come through. Just a while longer to hold on...

They were found at last!

When his children didn't return home, Radagaon called for every soldier he could muster to search for them. So, it was a relief when a patrol led by Kristoff circled about and zeroed in on where the twins hid, following the cries of the mad-sick merchants. With him were two draconian guards, which Miquella was certain that enemy, whatever it was, stood no hope to challenge. Upon securing the area, Kristoff ordered his men to get Lord Radagon, before he reassured the twins that help was on the way.

Indeed it came. Every available unit that happened to be in Leyndell that day, from draconian sentinels, Godwyn's Death Knights, Redmanes, and even Ranni's shadow, Blaidd came with a couple of Carian Knights.

"Can you stand?" Kristoff asked Malenia.

"I think so," she said. With his help, Malenia managed to get upright just as their father arrived.

This astonished Ansbach, for he had seen soldiers give up before. There was never any way to bring back a broken spirit, yet he witnessed Miquella do it.  

Radagon didn't even allow Malenia to bow before he had her in an embrace.

Ansbach was the only one who remained as he watched Lord Radagon take his children home. Of course, Miquella and Malenia said nothing about him, having understood that he was likely a fugitive from the Golden Order. But this fact did not keep Miquella, at least, from looking back and smiling at the old knight. And Malenia, too, gave a subtle salute with her sword before letting the general take her hand.

"So, what happened here?" Kristoff asked Ansbach.

"I wish I knew," Sir Ansbach replied.

"Weren't you there?"

"I only arrived when I saw the parade of soldiers."

"Really?"

"Really," said Ansbach. "Just ask the twins. I'm sure they'll set the record straight."

Waiting was the hardest part. No matter how often Miquella had to do it, he still faced uncertainty about what the perfumers might say. If he was lucky, it was a short treatment, followed by a warning to Malenia to be careful in the future. That was only sometimes the case.

When Radagon came, Miquella jumped up and begged his father for the prognosis.

"She's fine," said Radagon. "The wound wasn't deep, and she returned to Leyndell just in time. She'll be laid up for a few days though. Tricia will keep an eye on it then, but she's expecting a full recovery."

Miquella sighed in relief, and Radagon smiled.

"I am only glad the both of you are well."

"Father?" said Miquella.

"Humm..."

"I think this was my fault."

"No, it was not your fault."

"It was. I preached to the merchants, and they became like this. I taught them they needn't pursue riches as the Erdtree would give them all, but they wouldn't believe me. I just needed to see if I could make them understand."

"Miquella, they drove themselves to madness with their own greed. They could not stand surrendering to the Erdtree."

"But..."

"That is what happened, Miquella! Now, speak no more about this," said Radagon.

As usual, his father hid something. It was always obvious, and yet Miquella could do nothing about it. For all his power, there was nothing that Miquella could say or do that would make Radagon yield the truth. And Miquella grew exhausted and weary of working with a faint, watered-down version of the truth.

Who would he be if he was not Marika's son? The one heir to her power and throne. The one most like her. Most capable of fulfilling the promises of the Erdtree. But each time he came to the barrier of a secret, Miquella was forced to withdraw. He could no longer work within the confines of the Golden Order, and needed some way to seek an escape.

"Father," Miquella asked.

"I said, no more. Come. Your sister has asked for you."

"What happened to the merchants, Father?"

"They're gone."

"Where?"

"Gone, and no one has to know."

-0-

"Miquella? Miquella?"

Miquella looked around the hideaway.

"Miquella?"

It was that tender female voice. The light about the figure dressed in purple showed Miquella that this place he had entered was but a dream. Three wolves frolicked around the kneeling image of a young girl.

But these dreams were different.

They were as real and meaningful as the objective world.

"Oh, Miquella! I was so fearful," said Trina as she wrapped her arms around Miquella's neck. Her kiss to his lips was tender, which Miquella did not reciprocate. Still, he let his arms wrap around her as she brought herself close to him for comfort.

Miquella had to remind himself that he was always safe with Trina, his precious saint. Here, He could at last unburden his soul with things that not even Malenia would understand. There was something special about her: no matter how deep his sin, she always listened without judgment.

"Miquella? Why are you trembling?" she asked. Her hand went to Miquella's cheek. "Please, dear Miquella. I feel myself coming away from you. Like a petal barely clinging to the stem."

"I...I cannot save my sister," cried Miquella. It wasn't what truly troubled him, but it was the inevitable consequence of what he had witnessed and a safe topic for which to start. Trina was already well aware of his concerns and so would not question him. The reality was what happened to the merchants. There was no relief from the taint of that madness—only their eternal suffering.

No one has to know.

Those words did not bring any sense of comfort or even relief. No one else might know, but he knew. No matter how much Malenia denied it was him, but instead, his enemy, Miquella knew better. He knew he had caused it. There was nothing else that could. He didn't convince them through reason, logic, or even the texts of the ancient writings but through his power.

It wasn't meant to harm... He just wanted them to believe for their own benefit.

"Had I not told you before? Malenia is in no need of rescue. Look..."

Trina knelt down, moving her finger along the ground, creating a helix. She brought one end down to a point like a needle.

"We can ease her pain," said Trina. "Still the nightmares as she passes into restful sleep."

"But it won't save her..."

"Oh, my dear Miquella. She was meant to only be with you for a time. Remember what Ranni said? It's as important that we love her and give her the will to live. Subject her no more into the things that have done nothing but prolong her suffering."

"I... If she falls in love with Radahn, she'll choose to be a goddess and leave me here."

"If she falls in love with Radahn, so be it. You will always have me," said Trina, resting her hand on his cheek again. "And I will always have you."

Chapter Text

When Malenia woke, she was met with the horrible pain of sunlight stabbing into her eyes.

"Finlay?" she called as she rolled over on her stomach with a pillow over her head.

No response.

She reached for the silver pail beside her bed and choked and gagged as she heaved up the contents of her stomach. The moment Malenia stood to at least close the curtains, she collapsed to the ground and curled in a fetal position.

"Damn it! Finlay!" cried Malenia as the scarlet rot shredded her insides.

Of course, Finlay had to find herself a boyfriend at the worst possible time. Being the most extroverted person in the entire Lands-Between, it was likely to happen sooner instead of later. It was unexpected that it turned out to be one of those Knights of the Fringe Folk. Most were devoted followers of the dragons and so often made crossings between Caelid and Limgrave. Ogha might have introduced her, as he had a good relationship with them.

As happy as Malenia was for her friend and how much she wished to allow Finlay her freedom, these long outings were starting to take their toll. And to go now?

After what might have been hours of lying on the floor, Malenia barely heard the knock on the door and did not have the strength to answer it. Thankfully, it was only her siblings, Ranni and Godwyn.

"Stay here, but a moment. I'll check on her," said Ranni.

"Of course."

Ranni's reaction to seeing Malenia curled up on the floor and staring blankly at the wall was a heavy sigh and said, "Malenia. What art thou doing, laying there like a rolled-up carpet?" Despite the situation, sisters were still sisters, and Ranni couldn't help but make the remark. Sadly, this was more common than wanted.

Ranni helped Malenia back into bed. She knelt down and drew back a loose strand of red hair behind her sister's ear with a smile before drawing her in for a much-needed hug. How much Ranni loved her couldn't be expressed. Learning that Malenia was born and she was now a big sister meant the world to her when, at the time, she struggled to adapt to her parents' separation.

Still smiling and with no judgment or annoyance, she helped Malenia out of the soiled and damp nightgown. Malenia rested her head against Ranni's shoulder, unable to hold back sobs from both extreme pain and embarrassment, especially that her sister, the Lunar Princess of Liurnia, had to do this. But Ranni wasn't about to allow her sister to wallow a second longer in filth while waiting for a half wit servant to have an opportunity to gawk at Malenia's humiliating situation.

"Settle down," said Ranni. "Thou art still with us."

"W-would you close the blinds?" Malenia begged.

"Was that the aim when this happened?" Ranni asked as she cradled Malenia's head against her shoulder and rubbed her back like a small child. Malenia nodded. "Of course, Little Sister."

After she drew the drapes closed, Ranni went to work; she gave her sister a quick sponge bath, helped her into a new nightgown, and brushed out Malenia's hair. Once satisfied that Malenia was more comfortable, she washed her hands and allowed Godwyn in.

"Hey, Little Sister," said Godwyn, rubbing her hair like a child again. When Malenia made no reaction to an act clearly designed to annoy her, Godwyn's hand dropped to his side.

Ranni picked up the pail next to the bed and showed Godwyn. It wasn't just full of vomit but also a significant amount of blood. His face dropped, and he no longer had a playful disposition.

"Father is proud. He declared thee a far greater blade than any appointed shadow ever had been. Malenia?" said Ranni.

"Papa didn't come to see me."

"What doth thou mean? Father had not left thine side since thou was brought here," said Ranni. "Remember?"

"Finlay was supposed to be here..."

Ranni, now more concerned, looked up at Godwyn.

"You arranged Finlay leave for three weeks before this happened. Remember?" said Godwyn. "You said you didn't want her feel obligated to return early."

Ranni laid the back of her hand against Malenia's forehead. Again, she was feverish. They could only wait and hope that this episode was brief and her wits return when her symptoms subsided. Ranni had to remove herself while Godwyn lingered in an attempt to converse with his sister. But Malenia's speech began to slur, and her answer became broken and barely coherent as she started to drift in and out of consciousness.

It was beyond upsetting. A mere hour ago, Ranni was assured that Malenia's injury was minor without any serious intervention, but it was never that way. There was no such thing as a minor injury with her. It was a minor scrape, after all, one that all children were expected to receive, and it grew into an unmitigated disaster that cost Malenia her arm.

She considered calling in Medjai. His talent often brought Malenia out of these bouts, but she soon heard relieving laughter from the other room.

"And looks like Grumpy's back!" laughed Godwyn.

When Ranni peered in the door, Malenia was more or less annoyed, and one of her pillows was on the ground after she threw it at Godwyn.

Ranni hoped they might finish before Radahn arrived, knowing he would want to check on his precious Empyrean first. But hours ticked by in what felt like only minutes, and she and Godwyn overstayed their intended time.

Another knock.

This time, it was Radahn.

"Ranni? I thought you returned to Raya Lucaria already," said Radahn. He was still dressed in armor, indicating he had arrived just after running his men on their daily drills.

"I have a matter needing to be dealt with, which hath prolonged my stay indefinitely," said Ranni.

"Ranni, who's there..." said Godwyn. He stopped at the threshold. "General Radahn."

"Prince Godwyn," replied Radahn. He scratched the back of his head. "It's good to see you here. I must compliment you on your soldiers. Quite a tidy band you've gathered."

"Yes, I'm sure you're going to say they would have better had I acquired them during our--how shall I put it?-- scuffle?"

"Are you really so bold as to bring that up?" muttered Radahn.

"Yes. Art thou really to bring that matter up again?" Ranni agreed. "Especially here in front of thy sister when she is in such a state?"

Godwyn stormed out, leaving Ranni feeling more than embarrassed. If she and Radahn could at least be civil with one another despite their differences, she did not see why Godwyn couldn't.

And Malenia, still being young, hadn't come to terms with it all. Radahn was careful to keep Malenia away from the fighting, so she didn't become aware of the entire affair until she was much older. Where others lost their life in a desperate attempt to return her back to Leyndell, Malenia spent what she would consider the best months of her childhood. It molded her desire to fight on, even as she came to the brink of surrender.

Had she not taken up the sword, she and Miquella might have been swallowed in the Frenzy.

"Well?" said Ranni. "Go on. I'll leave ye be."

"Ranni... Malenia and I... we haven't..."

"I'm the last person to judge thee on that matter, Radahn," Ranni replied.

Upon seeing the general, Malenia smiled and held out her hand, allowing Radahn to take it. He kissed it before he sat down with his helmet on his lap.

"Feeling better?" Radahn asked.

"I bit. It's just a scratch, after all," said Malenia.

"If you heard Father, you'd think you've lost your other arm. You should have seen him going mad once he realized you and Miquella were missing. 'I want everyone. Every soldier gathered now! Wake them from their sleep if you must!'"

Radahn made a fair impression of their father. Not as good as Rykard, but it was enough to make Malenia laugh and hit him with her pillow, probably because laughing hurt right now. Even Ranni had to give a chuckle before leaving the two alone.

The visit was concerning. Ranni wondered if Radahn was actually aware of just how sick Malenia was. She had to admit her sister did an impeccable job hiding it whenever she was around the general. And the fact she thrived while in Radahn's care for several months only served to boost his confidence that he could manage her disease with relative ease.

Even Medjai, with all his wisdom and experience, said that hopes to eliminate or even control the rot were foolish and was most vocal against Radahn's plans.

Godwyn rubbed his forehead and stared down at the numerous documents. How much he wished he was more versed in languages. The words of dead tongues were never his strong suit, as he didn't often see the point of why his mother pushed them so. At the time, he showed more interest in the pretty girls than in how to conjugate a sentence properly.

Looking back, he was so immature. Sneaking into girl's bedrooms with the mimic veil and slipping away before their fathers could find them, with their consent, of course.

"What reason doth Godwyn have not to be Godwyn?"

"Because I'm cursed, Mother," said Godwyn with his face in his hands. "I'm cursed to see visions of my own death with the Elden Ring shattered over my battered body."

Since his night with Ranni, Godwyn felt a familiar conflict in his thoughts—one of anger that Ranni had yet to grant him the whereabouts of his children. But he also tried desperately to accept that their safety was the reason it had to be this way. Even without laying eyes on them, there wasn't a day when he couldn't think about them.

How gross a sin is that a child would have to leave the love and protection of its parents to live abroad as an exile? How could his mother be so reckless that she would grant Maliketh the weapon of death itself when he bore the hunger to destroy anything outside the purpose of the Greater Will? If only Godwyn could find a way to rid the world of that animal and claim the Rune of Death as his own prize. Then he could bring his daughter's home to sit their own thrones at the foot of the Erdtree and claim their birthright as demigods.

But it was a difficult matter. A strike from Maliketh wasn't a mere blow, but it could spell the permanent end to his being, so a direct challenge was impossible.

There was only one way he could circumvent: by finding a way to rebirth himself. If that were possible, then death itself would be trivial, but there were few ways such a thing could have been achieved. Outside the Rune of Rebirth, it required the abominable sin of laying with one who could conceive him anew. Apparently, it was a practice done long ago. Those known as Deathbed Companions were anointed to raise a Lord from his grave, drawing on the vigor of the champions loyal to him to again provide him life. It was considered their last great act of loyalty.

Those days were gone now, and the kingdom that ruled it was long buried in the Golden Order's empire. The Deathbed Companions were either themselves killed or banished away as "tarnished." Only Marika, the one goddess, held this power within the Rune of Rebirth.

When Godwyn saw his parents make love that day, he really witnessed the true power of an Empyrean: the ability to create life from a drop of dew, spin its fate into the stars, and then take it back within herself to rebirth it all anew. This power was something Godwyn secretly obsessed with over and over again as he imagined himself in the place of his father.

It was horrible to think about and lust for, but also so desirable that once the thought entered Godwyn's mind, it continued to creep up again and again. Was his mother not the most fair being in all the Lands-Between? And Godwyn had envisioned the fantasy in his mind since he was a young lad. He watched his mother's power on full display when she made love to Godfrey, his father. That power was always in her irresistible beauty and seemingly endless ability.

He had to wonder if all Empyreans possessed such power.

Could Ranni not do the same for him?

She was an Empyrean, yes. It stood to reason that it was possible, but would Ranni ever agree to it? That was another question.

No. I dare not ask.

He didn't wish a repeat of that first night together. Although she had come to terms with the idea that she was now a mother, Godwyn had to accept that it was difficult for Ranni. He didn't force her, but she didn't feel she could say "no" either.

Perhaps he could bring her in with the promise of protecting their children, but it was offensive to use his precious daughters as though they were bargaining chips. It was his fear, not theirs. They were the only two things that mattered, and that is why he even considered doing this.

"Godwyn?"

It was rare that Fortissax took on a human form. Lansseax was the one who found a use for the ability, being the one who fronted the Cult of Dragons as its priestess. Fortissax wouldn't see the need. He had only one friend in Godwyn, and there was no need to hide from him. Godwyn's siblings, Miquella and Malenia, were introduced to the dragon when they were still infants, so they were well accustomed to him by the time they were small children. They never fully got used to the idea that they were not supposed to pet the dragon like a dog, but Fortissax tolerated it.

The dragon only started to use this form more as Godwyn became a recluse. Transforming into a human was the only way the old dragon could capture any time with his old friend, as Godwyn never sought the company any longer. The Ancient Dragon missed his friend, whom he knew as the child Marika must have given all her warmth and love, saving none, even for herself. The ambition of Lord was second to his mother, half-siblings, and his beautiful bride-to-be Ranni.

No longer a young man, Godwyn was rarely in good humor. He relegated his friendship with Fortissax to reaching out to him and hardly seeing such courtesy in return.

"Ah... my friend," sighed Godwyn. "What news?"

Fortissax furred his brow.

"Why must it only be business? Has our friendship now become transactional?" Fortissax asked.

"I'm sorry, Old Friend," said Godwyn. "I've been plowing forever through these papers and the gibberish language they're scribed in. 'Old dead tongues, ' I used to call them. I have no idea why the mother insisted the tutors spend so much time teaching it. Now I'm left to regret not taking it seriously."

Fortissax wasn't satisfied with this apology and picked up one of the papers. He examined it and shook his head.

"Why can you not surrender this horrible ambition?" Fortissax asked.

Godwyn snatched the paper back.

"What kind of world is it when, any day, I would have to bury my daughters without even a chance to hold them?"

"Your mother might have said the same thing. Now look at the world as the grace of the Erdtree ran dry."

"It's not dry."

"I'm sorry," said Fortissax sarcastically, "I forgot you could simply replenish it by allowing thy sister to ascend to the realm as a goddess. Instead, she is relegated to the role of a mere shadow. An empyrean high and mighty who could rebirth the world, now reduced to the mere lap dog of her delusional brother."

"Why do you insult Miquella and defend Radahn and his foolish plan?" Godwyn asked.

"Because this world has not done better for itself under Marika's vision. If there is one thing that the Liurnians did correct, it was to respect natural cycles of the world that cannot be interfered with."

"So you would have me, the Son of Marika, submit to fate?"

"Godwyn, I beg of thee. To lay aside the pride and seek not death itself."

"No! I will not yield to Radahn! To become a servant to him that had so dishonorably wronged me! I care not for the plans and whims of those who had conspired so wickedly against me and let this world die."

"The rot is not death! Thou were never witness to an age where cycles were allowed their natural order and opposites could freely contend. In a time before, beasts and Outer Gods alike did not meddle. Let thy sister destroy all that is here so her brother can grow it anew."

"And then what? Huh? Have them battle one another until their pure love becomes eroded to hatred and will for dominance? That's all Radahn's plan will ever amount to with his lust for battle and glory."

"What do you want from me, Old Friend?" Fortissax sighed.

"Nothing. I have things I have to do, and if you don't approve of them, I can't trust you, can I?" said Godwyn.

"True friends tell the truth, and false ones tell only what thou wishes to hear."

"If you wish to help, you can fly me to Caelid. I think it's time I visit that beast sanctum," said Godwyn.

"To find what?"

"There's a beast clergyman named Gurranq. He's rumored to have close ties with Maliketh and serves at a sanctum in Caelid. I ought to pay him a visit and squeeze whatever information I can from him," said Godwyn.

"Very well," sighed Fortissax.

Caelid was beautiful, filled with meadows full of bright flowers of all sorts of colors. It was where the descendants of the ancient dragons called home, and Radahn claimed it as his own domain. Perhaps Godwyn might have enjoyed it more had there not been so foul a memory about the place. When they flew in sight of Redmane Castle, Godwyn frowned, thinking about how easily Radahn returned to his life without any serious consequence for his terrible actions.

"This place bore far more splendor when it was a high mountain," said Fortissax.

"It had far more splendor before that smelly red lion claimed my father's image and tainted it," replied Godwyn. "What did happen to the mountain, by the way?"

"Marika's ascension into godhood brought all mountains low and drowned all the valleys," said Fortissax.

"Oh. And here, I always thought Radahn accidentally flattened it with his oversized ass. It is large enough to create its own gravitational field by now."

Even Fortissax had to give a chuckle.

Godwyn soon pointed to the bestial sanctum, which nestled against the cliff. Rumors stated that there was once a staircase to Farum Azula, but already crumbled into the sea. Scattered among the outside of the structure was the large pillars that looked as though they used the corpses of Beastmen as the mortor.

It was a sight that shocked even Godwyn, as this entire place was death. From upon Fortissax's back, he could see the skulls of giants protruding from the dirt. How many were dead and buried in this former mountain, or perhaps the mountain itself was made entirely from them? Was it Marika's purpose to do so and thus reveal the crimes of her predecessor? The so-called "Gloam Eyed-Queen" was whom his mother seldom spoke of and only in passing. Even to her own children, she was determined to hide away.

"Of course, Maliketh would have one of his stooges standing guard," said Godwyn as he noticed the Blackbird Kindred. Creatures were made from corpse flesh, and their temper was as bad as their smell.

They circled about for a bit, staying at a good height so as not to disturb the Blackbird Kindred. They soon took to landing on the rear side, where the cliffs might obscure their presence.

When they landed, Godwyn spotted a woman dressed in silver armor leaning against one of the pillars.

"Tiche?"

"Godwyn," she replied.

"What are you doing here?"

Tiche only smiled.

"I have asked Tiche to come and help us, since you're notoriously bad at doing so," said Fortissax.

"It's good to see you again, too, Godwyn," said Tiche.

"Tiche, honestly... Under other conditions, I would be grateful to see you, but right now is a bad time. I'm not too keen on every person in the Lands-Between having wind of my whereabouts," said Godwyn. "Fortissax, fly back to Limgrave and have my personal knights assembled. We'll see the look on that bird's face when it spots a dozen of them rushing him from the hill."

"Right. And then have Maliketh know that you were here. I'm sure nothing can go wrong then," replied Tiche.

"Are you willing to do something then?"

"With the Blackbird Kindred? I'd sooner chew rocks," said Tiche.

"That's what I thought. Fortissax..."

"Have you thought to just go around him?" said Tiche.

Godwyn looked at Fortissax and the dragon shrugged.

It was an insane plan, which Godwyn didn't think should have worked. Yet, as Fortissax carried them up to the cliff face, they watched the Blackbird Kindred tucked away along the side of the sanctuary. They watched it while waiting for Fortissax to complete his transformation back into a human form. And it didn't move. It watched down the pathways and out over the green meadow fields of Caelid.

"And you're sure he just stands there. All day?" said Godwyn.

"I've been watching him for days. He hadn't moved a muscle since," replied Tiche. "Not the most exciting thing to do."

Godwyn raised an eyebrow, unsure why Tiche would watch such a place for "days."

"Great guard. Very attentive," he then said to lighten the mood.

He rubbed his hand over the mortar of the sanctuary and examined the craftsmanship. It was apparent this place was built before Marika's time, but by who wasn't clear. While the Golden Order never hid that Marika's ascension to Godhood was a process that took bloodshed to achieve, they just as well didn't remind people of it either. It gave a distorted view to the masses that, so long as they didn't think too much about the details not adding up, would stay satisfied.

It was an insult, really. Marika's vision to make a world where no one was in want of anything meant that people within the Lands-Between would not war among themselves. And yet she used war to obtain her place as ruler. Marika was concerned that a great scholar or philosopher might waste their gifts serving as illiterate farmers. Instead, she'd have the Erdtree provide everything so that the people could pursue their innate interests and contribute to the ways of the arts and science, but all the while, she kept them ignorant.

It was hard to reconcile.

Godwyn loved his mother, but more and more he began to see how misguided her good intentions were. He even wondered the same about himself. His entire mission could be misguided too and lead him down a horrible path.

"I'm here now," said Fortissax.

"Good," said Godwyn, taking his tunic off so Fortissax could wrap it around his waist.

"Alright," said Tiche. "Follow my lead."

She stayed close to the side, hesitating one more moment just to make sure the Blackbird Kindred remained still before she scaled the wall and pulled herself up on the balcony.

There was nothing impressive inside the sanctuary. Large pillars were made again from the disturbing sight of beasts encased within. Some were chained on the outside, looking as though they were in agony. Godwyn turned to Fortissax, hoping that the dragon might recall some detail of this place.

"This world was a very different place before your mother took her reign," said Fortissax.

"Care to elaborate?" said Godwyn.

"This is nothing more than a tomb to immortalize a genocide. What exactly are we looking for?" said Tiche.

"Hopefully, the keystone that will finally make sense of this entire thing. I need to know where Maliketh came from. Why he can hold the Rune of Death, when it has the power to kill demigods," said Godwyn.

"And why does that even matter?" Fortissax asked.

"Because it does!" snapped Godwyn. He reached the rear of the sanctuary and found himself looking up at nothing more than bare stone.

Of course, there was once something there. The bare stone still had traces of paint, indicating a scrubbed-clean mural of some sort.

Godwyn balled his fist up and struck the stone.

"Blasted!" he exclaimed in frustration. "She just erases everything! You call yourself 'Eternal?' Mother? Yet, time and time again, you hide everything. What is it about the past that makes a goddess so fearful?"

"Godwyn, what are we looking for?" said Tiche.

"Tiche, this wasn't for you to come along."

"And this is nothing we ought to find," said Fortissax.

Godwyn rolled his eyes, "Not this again! As though I would expect you'd ever come around to what I'm attempting to do."

"Godwyn, I am not attempting to frustrate thy plan, nor am I incapable of understanding the love for thy children! I am trying to help thee," said Fortissax.

Something caught Tiche's attention. It triggered a sense that years of training and practice had honed to where it was sharp as a knife. She slowly turned and saw the gruesome double-faced Blackbird Kindred as it peered through the door. She gasped and then tugged Godwyn's arm.

"Uh... Godwyn..."

"What?" he snapped. He turned quickly, and then his eyes widened.

It was only a second before Godwyn grabbed Tiche and dove to the side as the Kindred sent a wave of red death towards them. The entire sanctuary shook, causing dust to fall from the ceiling. The Kindred snarled as it wound up for another attack, which Godwyn quickly threw a lightning bolt towards it.

"We can't stay here," said Godwyn as the Kindred retreated to dodge his blow. It was a small blessing the creature couldn't enter, but that only held it off for a bit. The magic Maliketh blessed his followers with was enough to take down the entire sanctuary if it had to.

"Distract him for me," said Fortissax.

"I'd still rather chew rocks," said Tiche, taking cover behind one of the pillars as the creature sent another shock of magic through the sanctuary.

"Do nothing, and you will," said Godwyn.

She then spun and launched a yellow wave of holy magic from her dagger, again forcing the creature back.

It caught Godwyn's attention and triggered a memory from more than a decade back of the intruder who managed to enter the palace. But he had no time to think about it. Godwyn sprinted for the entrance when the Kindred retreated to take cover again. He tackled the Kindred at its knees, toppling the giant.

They tumbled down the hill, ending with the Kindred on top. Pommeled Godwyn in the face and then raised its blade high to strike him down. Tiche jumped on its back and plunged her dagger into its back, over and over again. It threw her to the ground, allowing just enough time for Godwyn to escape. A swirl of wind from the Kindred sent both the demigod and Tiche to the ground.

It then spotted Fortissax, who was now emerging out from the sanctum, and it pounced towards it, celebrant extended. Fortissax only made a narrow dodge as he jumped off the cliff. The Kindred followed, exercising caution as it looked below to make sure his enemy plunged to his death. Then came the roar that echoed out from the cliffs below, and Fortissax took flight, spreading out his wings.

"Come on," said Godwyn, grabbing Tiche's hand.

They retreated towards the bridge. He called at Fortissax and waved to ensure the dragon knew he and Tiche retreated. Of course, Fortissax wasn't willing to allow a chance at fun to go to waste. And took to circling about, swooping down just to tease the creature.

At last, they were safe.

"Fortissax will be teasing that thing a good while," sighed Godwyn. "He likes the feeling of dominance."

Tiche laughed, "Yeah." She hit Godwyn's arm. "You and I need to find ourselves something else to do with our time."

"Maybe. Have you ever considered climbing up on Leyndell's rooftops? It makes for quite the view," Godwyn responded.

"I can only imagine."

After that, we ought to prowl about the palace a bit. Though I'd avoid a scuffle with my siblings, or else it won't just be a broken arm," said Godwyn.

Tiche was at first confused, then surprised, then annoyed. She gave a loud huff and looked away from him.

"Who are you?" Godwyn asked.

She didn't answer.

"Tiche?"

"I... can't say," said Tiche.

"Do you not know?"

"That's actually pretty accurate."

"How long have you spied on me? Since we first met? Before?"

Tiche hesitated, but Godwyn would wait. Most people couldn't stand silence for long, and Tiche was no exception.

"What do you know?" Godwyn asked.

"I know about your 'secret.'"

"Yes. I seek the Rune of Death and Rebirth. That's what we were doing here."

"Not that one. Your other 'secret.'"

Godwyn went pale, then grew angry. Rather than lash out at Tiche, he stood up and paced about, trying to decide what to do.

"You...," he said.

"I didn't tell anyone if that's what you're worried about," said Tiche.

"How long have you known that?"

"For a long time. My order knows everything about you, your siblings, everything."

"If Mother found this out..."

"Queen Marika? She knows. She and Mother have a connection. I don't know what it is, but there is one. For whatever reason, Marika can't kill Mother. I don't know if that's a strategic choice or she physically cannot do it."

"So you're untouchable and been spying on us?"

Godwyn drew his sword and put it to Tiche's throat, but she didn't move. Not even a slight flinch as she waited for Godwyn to decide what to do.

"You're afraid of dying, Godwyn. That's why you're here, and that's why you're cursed. Do you feel those things crawling under your skin? Others can't smell it, but I can."

"Why shouldn't I strike you down?"

"Because I'm the best lead you have right now. Do you want the Rune of Death and Rebirth? Well, my order served the one who wielded it."

"The Gloam-Eyed Queen?"

Godwyn lowered his sword.

"She still wanders around, you know."

"Doing what?"

"Watching."

"I need to meet her."

"Why? She doesn't have either rune anymore."

"I need to know what she knows about it. And if possible, where she hid the Rune of Rebirth before she cast her filthy shadow over the land."

"I can't help you there."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know how. She answers to no one, especially not you. Besides, your mother is the one who captured all the Runes, including the one for Rebirth. What she did with it afterward, who knows?"

"There has to be a way to get her attention."

"Godwyn, you shouldn't have such things!" said Tiche, grabbing his arm before he could walk away. "Trust me, I understand! You must have heard your whole life how death is this terrifying thing and that your mother removed the rune to keep you and your sibling safe. Your mother meant well, surely, but she's misguided, as are you."

"If you're not going to lead me where the rune is, I don't know what choice I have other than to..."

"Stop! You can accept life as it is and not toy with it. You can resist your curse like your sister resists her rot. You can fall back in love with Ranni and enjoy whatever time life gives you with your daughters. Why can't you do any of those?"

"Because those things weren't good enough for mother? They didn't make her happy."

"Godwyn, Marika is a damaged woman. She's seen things during the time of the Crucible... and they did things to her... horrible things. Things you don't have to see, thankfully, which is all the more reason you can't compare yourself to her."

Godwyn placed his hand on Tiche's cheek, then walked away.

Tiche stood there, confused. When Godwyn disappeared, she went in her direction, all under one's watchful eye.

For up on the cliff faces of Caelid and looking down to the road below, a hooded being watched from atop her horned beast. She mused a bit over what she witnessed.

"I wonder, Torrent. Ought I go meet Godwyn? Perhaps he'd bring me back to Leyndell that I might discern for what purpose Mother brought me back," she said as she stroked the beast's mane.

Torrent gave a snort and shook his head.

"Humm. Yes, I'd wager too that he'd ask as price the whereabouts of the Rune of Rebirth. Yes, it should stay where it is and not risk it falling into the hands of demigods."

Again, Torrent nayed.

"Where is it? You needn't worry about that. Mother found it encased in the amber of the Great Tree. Hidden there so that death can reign again indiscriminately, caring neither for whether one were born a god, a demigod, a noble, rich or poor. In death, all are made equal. But now, both death and rebirth are gone. I suppose, at some point, we might find them. But for now, there are other matters to attend. Come, Torrent."

Chapter Text

You do realize that what you have just admitted is a very grievous thing," said Miriel.

Godwyn swallowed hard. Laying out his entire life story, from where his sin began to what brought him to sit in a pew in the Church of Vows and talking to a turtle, nonetheless, was far more difficult than Godwyn imagined. Yet, there was no hint of judgment in the wise beast's voice as he continued to listen.

"That's why I have to confess to it," said Godwyn. "I can't live my life controlled by this unrealized lust anymore, regardless of what it promises."

"And why now?"

"My daughters. Aurielia and Aureliette. They're already thirteen years old, and I haven't even met them. I can't face Maliketh knowing I could die having never seen them," said Godwyn.

"Are you more afraid that if Ranni were to find out, you might find yourself forbidden to see them?" said Miriel.

"She would find out if I were to ever act on this feeling," said Godwyn.

"Indeed she would. And I can't say I would blame her for making that decision."

"Nor can I. Yet, it's the only reason I even had an ounce of courage to face Maliketh. What good is it for me to die and be reborn through abominable rites if it leaves me separate from them forever? Worse, what if the price I pay to have it done isn't enough? And I collide face-to-face with the Laws of Causality. That price could go to them," said Godwyn. "Just like Mother's anger still affects all of us."

"These are all good reasons to change, but I sense they are things you thought of after. What really brought you here, Godwyn the Golden?" Miriel asked. "What caused you to realize the seriousness of your sin finally?"

Three weeks ago...

As Godwyn approached the bed chamber, he could feel the knife against his waist. He managed to still his breathing and again ensured he could reach and draw the blade in less than a blink of an eye. He practiced the move over and over again and got it to a point where he could do it in his sleep.

Maliketh was here. Godwyn could smell the animal who hid in the shadow, watching him and waiting to pounce. There was no special privilege for even a prince. Maliketh was always watching, suspicious of even Marika's own children. It was something that Godwyn grew accustomed to, even as it implied the horrid danger that both he and his siblings faced.

The trick was to make himself look suspicious enough that Maliketh would emerge from his shadows but not so much that the creature would immediately attack.

"Why hath thou come, Son of Marika?"

Godwyn froze, and his hair stood on end as the hot shadow's breath blew on the back of his neck.

"I'm here to see Mother," Godwyn replied, failing to hide his trembling voice.

Maliketh leaped over his head and landed, facing Godwyn.

"She will not see thee."

"Where is she? No one has seen her for months," said Godwyn.

Beads of sweat began to roll down his face. He eyed the blade in Maliketh's paw, which the beast used to strike down the Gloam-Eyed Queen and her apostles.

"Malenia asked for her," continued Godwyn, thinking of the only thing that might just draw his mother out by the last thread of her humanity.

"Marika communes now only with the Two-Fingers," said Maliketh.

"So that's where she's been up to all this time? Wonder what they have to say?" said Godwyn.

Maliketh growled.

"If you see her, let her know I should very much like an audience," said Godwyn.

With that, Maliketh was gone, and Godwyn sighed in relief.

When Godwyn returned to his chambers, he threw his knife at the wall.

He sat on one of the chairs with his hands folded under his chin.

"Well, aren't you the coward, Godwyn? The man who tamed a dragon and fought his stepbrother to a stalemate can't fight a beast," said Godwyn. "Nothing but a disappointment to my father. The one true love of Marika's life."

He slumped down in his seat with his face in his hands.

Godwyn soon gave a sigh and looked back at the papers he had scattered all over his desk. Much of the information was nothing more than carefully curated propaganda. Each story was embellished to promote Marika's image and pass her motives off as pure, but not to educate or cultivate new ideas. It was concerning. This age was destined to see an end. Not even Marika could stop that, yet she left her people ignorant to face the challenge of rebuilding in the aftermath.

There was little doubt in Godwyn that Marika's motives weren't at least good.

"They did things to her..." said Tiche.

"What did they do to you, Mother?" Godwyn asked. "That you deemed it proper to give the power of Death itself to such a savage beast."

Marika never talked about that past, maybe because she chose not to or because the Golden Order silenced her. While Godwyn didn't know the details, he was certain that there was a time when she was far more innocent.

A knock came on his door, and Godwyn, thinking it was Ranni, invited them in.

"Oh," said Godwyn when he realized his guest was Miquella. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Miquella frowned, "Despite all appearances, I am not a child."

"Of course. I keep forgetting," said Godwyn.

Miquella glanced at the seemingly endless papers scattered everywhere. Godwyn didn't mind. Perhaps a mind as brilliant as Miquella's might help see through the clutter of where imagination met truth.

"I've seen this," said Miquella, pointing to a paper containing the eclipse.

"Have you?"

"Well, not this specifically," replied Miquella. "Rennala of the Full-Moon and I had a long discussion about it while Malenia and I visited Ranni briefly. Ranni thought I'd upset her since Father... well, she was nice about where I came from."

"The Carians believe that fate itself is locked in the stars and governed by their orbits and cycles."

"They must have been really upset when Radahn halted them," said Miquella.

"I think they consider him more or less a traitor. I can't say I blame him. There's a lot of power gained to the side that can predict the future."

"More to he who controls it," said Miquella.

Godwyn lifted an eyebrow.

"Anyway, I had heard you were restless. I thought I could bring you something to help," Miquella continued, holding a draught.

Godwyn grinned, a little suspicious, and realized this was probably another one of Miquella's experiments.

"Is that the one Malenia calls 'donkey piss?'"

"No, that's the other one. The donkey piss one actually doesn't do anything. I just make her drink it to annoy her," grinned Miquella. "This one is the sleeping spell."

"Ah. So it's the other one Malenia hates," said Godwyn.

"To be fair, you would hate it too if you had an Outer God inside," said Miquella. His voice was sad, hinting at frustration as he tried desperately to cure his sister. "I don't know... I promise nothing more will ever happen to her, but I can't. I keep looking through everything I can find; no one has the answer. What I do find, is bits and pieces that I can't put together. Even if Malenia can't die, I still feel like I'm running out of time to save her. Maybe at some time, the Greater Will might decide..."

"Hey," said Godwyn, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, "it'll be alright. You'll find a way. But this potion of yours? What does it do?"

"It'll help you sleep, and you'll think clearer when you wake," Miquella insisted.

Godwyn was skeptical. Rumors about Miquella perchance to manipulate others started spreading among the siblings. At this point, it did not seem the Empyrean guilty of any truly grievous sin; it was a concerning habit he began to form. It was only a matter of time before conflicts might arise between what Miquella wanted and what others needed. Godwyn thought of having a talk with him, though he hadn't yet. He couldn't discern if that procrastination was due to his choice or Miquella deciding for him.

"Well, that's kind of you," said Godwyn, still reluctant to participate in Miquella's experiments.

"Godwyn... um... are you and Radahn ever to reconcile?"

Godwyn sighed, "I'm not sure what we could reconcile. We were never friends. That man stole away my father's vestige and challenged me to battle. The result was the loss of many lives. It's only thankful we live in the time we do now, where the consequences of such are minimal."

"But there are still consequences," said Miquella. "It puts a terrible strain on the Erdtree. I think that's why Mother hadn't been seen for so long."

Godwyn nodded.

"One would need to find a way for a proper rebirth. There are many ways to do it, but many involve rather dark rituals and the death of someone else in exchange. For example, putting a spirit into one's body. That is, if that person's spirit didn't die, too," said Godwyn. "Mother's rival, the one we call the Gloam Eyed Queen, thought to make everyone equal by allowing their full and proper death regardless of their station. So, everyone succumbed to it. Rich and poor. Young and old. Even people who were well could find themselves cloaked in its cold embrace. It was rumored she even sought to kill both gods and demigods."

Godwyn thought about the very dark ritual he sought to partake in.

"Well, think about it, Brother. And perhaps Radahn would want to make amends too."

After Miquella left, Godwyn looked at the draft on his desk. Of course, the little manipulator would want him to reconcile with Radahn. Just as it wasn't a secret that he had an allure strong enough to cause others to do his will, it was just as well known that he was growing a sense of affection for Radahn. Godwyn chuckled at the thought, as Radahn didn't seem interested in him. Still, Godwyn couldn't help but think how amusing it might be if Miquella managed to seduce that same General Radahn who could give no other real reason he wanted the weaker of the twin prodigies other than for the fact she was female.

Godwyn continued to work, looking through his notes and papers to see if he might find an overlooked detail or clue. But with his mind so cluttered with the memories of his failures, he saw no harm in playing along with Miquella's experiment.

Godwyn took a gulp and was surprised at the sweetness of the nectar. Definitely not the "donkey piss" but it also didn't do anything. He sat on his chair, waiting for whatever effect Miquella intended; he shook his head. When he stood outside, he noticed his room had turned to a slight purple hue. He looked at his hands and then at the papers on his desk, which seemed written by nothing but scribbles.

At the threshold of his door was the outline of a child.

"Miquella?"

"Dearest, Brother!" said Saint Trina. "Miquella said you would come soon."

"Really? And you are?" said Godwyn.

"Questions such as that are unnecessary," replied Trina.

"Right. I can see why this spell vexes Malenia," said Godwyn, as he put his hand through one of the walls.

"Coming here and being talked to by strange beings would annoy me."

"Malenia's mind is tainted in scarlet. As Mother's is tainted in gold," said Trina.

"And what is my mind tainted with?"

"A lust for that gold. Both to possess it and taste it."

Godwyn frowned, "It seems everyone knows my business."

"Please, do not be offended, Brother. Had you truly thought to keep it secret?"

"I would prefer to! With the enemies I have, I cannot afford this taint on my soul!"

"Mother's great power is astonishing, but she will not have you. Rebirth is a business tainted with forbidden rites and unintended consequences. Regardless of what you think of the Golden Order, they are not wrong. Rebirth, too, has its cost," said Trina.

"But what am I to do when faced against Maliketh?"

"For one to be reborn, it must be that either their body or their spirit remains. How can you hope your plan will work if there is no fragment of either to remain?"

Godwyn was taken aback by this revelation. Surely, how could he have missed something so obvious?

"That's not true."

"It is true. That is why Mother sought to seal it away. Dark times come, Godwyn, and you should have nothing to cause you to falter. I will take your lust if you would allow it," said Trina.

"And so you want to have an affair with Mother?"

"Dear Godwyn, have you not had enough of looking at her like an object of passion? Do you not want your mother again?" Trina asked.

"And what price am I to pay for this?"

Trina cocked her head and then held out her hand, "Godwyn, would you come walk with me?"

Godwyn took it, and Trina led him beyond the walls of his chambers and through the voids. Up through the snowfield and into the realms long forbidden. Even though it was a dream, Godwyn's feet still felt the chill of the snow. And soon they were there, in a quaint little village.

There were people there dressed in clothes made from deer skins. They scurried about, minding their business. Women cleaned the fur off skins to make leather while men prepared to go out and hunt. It was far from his rooms' posh and prime walls and general comforts.

They passed this place and went to a small overhanging cave. Here, still quite some distance away, they stopped, and Trina pointed to the two blond-headed girls sitting inside that overhang.

"You're already paying a price for this," said Trina.

"Is that?" said Godwyn, letting go of Trina's hand. But it was. Godwyn collapsed to his knees, his hands over his face and tears welling in his eyes.

"How much would you pay to have this one moment?" Trina asked.

"Anything," cried Godwyn.

"But can you have this moment if Ranni can't trust you? Would she trust you if she knew what your plans involved?"

"I'm afraid to die."

"I think death is a very small price to pay for this moment," said Trina. "Go on. Even though it is a dream, it is still real. Go on. Have this moment."

"I-I can't."

"Godwyn? Please. I give this to you. So you know," said Trina.

"They don't know me."

"They do. In this dream, they do. And they want to know you."

"No.. No! I don't. I can't."

"Godwyn!"

"It was then that I woke up," Godwyn continued, "It was like a burden lightened from my shoulders. I don't know how better to describe it."

He felt the tears again, "And you should have seen my little ones..."

"I can only imagine the joy you felt and sadness to see it done."

"I squandered that moment that I could have held them."

"I fear you might have unrealistic expectations about what this being has done for you. Nothing in what she said indicates you as cured."

"What do you mean? Because of her, I came to you so I might restore myself and my relationship with my mother and Ranni into what they properly ought to be."

"Indeed, this is where such miracles could occur, and I have no doubt this being has the power to ease what has burdened you. But be mindful that she has also warned you of trials yet to come, and you would be wise to heed that warning. If you do not stay the course through your darkest times, all that we do today will fail," said Miriel.

"We can only do one thing at a time, can't we?" said Godwyn. "Go ahead and do what you do. And pray I'm strong enough."

When Godwyn emerged, his friends Tiche and Fortissax waited for him. They were apparently playing tic-tac-toe in the dirt and arguing over whether the "o's" or the "x's" had a strategic advantage. They stopped the moment Godwyn emerged.

"Well?"

Godwyn gave a weary smile, "I sort of expected a bit more. Maybe an instant cure."

"But it's something, isn't it?" Tiche asked.

"I suppose it is. Have you ever heard of a benevolent being appearing in dreams?"

"No, I have not. Did you encounter something like that?" Fortissax asked.

"Yes. It was a little odd the whole thing."

"I could very well ask among my order. Some of my sisters go as far back as the beginning of this age. Surely, they'd know something," said Tiche.

"Any luck in granting me an audience with the head of your order?"

"Afraid not. She remains as elusive as ever. We never know where she's off to and when she might return. Not to mention what she will ask if she does," said Tiche.

"Keep trying," said Godwyn.

"I will," said Tiche.

When she left, Godwyn breathed a sigh of relief. He rubbed Fortissax's nose: "Well, Old Friend? I don't know how I can repay you."

Fortissax nodded, "It is well, Prince Godwyn. For all thou hath done to ensure that your mother spared the dragons, I think of it more of me repaying thy own generosity."

As Tiche made her way back to the hideaway, she considered how she might approach the others. She had to be subtle so as not to draw the attention of her mother, who continued to disapprove of her friendship with Godwyn.

Things weren't like they were before. Part of Tiche missed that bond the two of them once shared when she was younger. She supposed she might still have it had she not begun to question her mother and her motives. She understood the things that happened between Alecto and the Hornsent and their numerous, horrible crimes that would make the Executioner of the Gods now have to act, but she never understood what caused such anger towards Marika.

Marika's actions were misguided but not evil.

When Tiche reached the Sainted Hero's Grave, one of many bases her order operated, the cloak of invisibility that masked her movements to and fro suddenly disappeared. Tiche was stunned for a moment, looking at her hands, which were now visible.

"What the...?" she said.

Her moment of surprise led the way for a dart to strike her right into the left shoulder. Then another into the right thigh. Tiche stuttered backward, pressing her back against the heavy wooden doors. Rykard's sinster laugh as he held several more darts between his fingers.

"What a foolish little girl you are," he said. He grabbed Tiche by the throat and pushed her head against the heavy door.

"And how did you come to know about me?" Tiche asked.

"Ranni and I are quite close. And when she gave me the description of your unusual armor, it reminded me of one of Godwyn's known companions," said Rykard, stabbing another into her left leg and arm. "The perfumers tend to leave their paralyzing agents lying around the castle. Makes ease of access when my half-sister's scarlet rot flares up."

"That sounds like a cold and heartless thing," said Tiche.

Rykard's men dragged Tiche's limp body a short way to the Stormcaller church. Upon the base was once a statute of Godfrey, the First Elden Lord, now replaced by a statute of the second, Radagon. Now, Rykard had his men suspend her from it. The weight of Tiche's body made breathing difficult, and though she couldn't feel it, she was certain the ropes dug into her wrists.

If only she could regain the feeling in her legs and arms again, this would be an easy escape.

"Well," said Rykard as he carried in a rolled-up cloth. "Here we are."

He unrolled the cloth to reveal a variety of tools that were common in any carpenter's set: knives, drills, hammers, pliers, and chisels, all laid out in front of her.

"Nothing here is particularly complicated. Just the common tools of the trade," said Rykard as he fiddled with them.

"Does your mother know what you do for a living?" Tiche asked.

Rykard's fist went into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and she struggled against her weight to catch it again.

"The only reason I don't gag you is so you can talk, but the only thing I want to hear from your mouth is answers to my questions," said Rykard as Tiche gasped for breath. He then took one of the smallest carving knives and drew it down the length of her cheek, peeling a strip of her skin with it. Tiche screamed and begged him to stop, which caused Rykard to laugh. He held the piece of flesh out to her before tossing it aside. "That's only a sample of what I'm about to do to you if you won't start talking."

Rykard then grabbed her hair and started to cut open her armor.

"Did Godwyn ever mention children?" Rykard whispered.

"He has two children, with your sister," said Tiche, her voice trembling. Rykard yanked her hair to pull her head back and pressed himself against her. His tongue licked up the blood that was streaming down her neck.

"What about with anyone else?" Rykard asked.

"Like who?"

Rykard jabbed the small knife into her other cheek, again causing Tiche to cry out.

"Quite playing with me. Everyone knows he has an appetite for women."

"Do you mean like the whores your brother keeps at his camp and you liberally 'sampled?'" Tiche snarled.

Rykard grabbed the hammer from his kit and brought it up once, smashing it into her shoulder. He brought it up again, this time into the other shoulder. The pain was excruciating, but Tiche held on. Even if there was no friendship between herself and Godwyn, she was determined not to give Rykard anything.

Not for this insult.

She only had to last a while before the others would come and look for her. Her mother would come, as always, and then Tiche would be safe. Tiche focused on this and that cozy little hovel where she hid from the Woodfolk the entire time.

Rykard left her to hang there throughout the night, with the weight of her damaged arms doing the work to cause as much pain as possible. Her face grew pale. Her breathing was increasingly labored, and she couldn't find the strength to pull herself up to gain even a tiny whiff of air. Her entire body burned to feel relief.

The relief of death.

It was like passing into a dream, she was told. The cold stillness of the church faded away to warmth. The pain ended when her spirit passed on and disintegrated into the darkness.

But there was no death in Marika's world.

Rykard woke her by dumping a flask full of water over her head. It was dark, and her mother had not yet come. Instead, Rykard examined her fingers as he considered cutting them off.

"What woman are you looking for?" Tiche asked.

"I'm not sure," said Rykard, playing with her callused fingers. He then ran his knife over her index finger, cutting the print off like he was slicing off a piece of an apple. The gasped at the sudden pain but didn't scream out loud this time. He paused with the edge of the blade resting on the next finger. He cut that, too, when Tiche said nothing.

"Come now. It can be over soon. Just tell me. Who did Godwyn have children with? Who does Godwyn desire the most?"

"H-his mother," said Tiche. "He desires his mother..."

"Well," smirked Rykard. "That is not one I was expecting."