Desolation 2

"Have ever you heard of the Land of Beyond,

That dreams at the gates of the day?

Alluring it lies at the skirts of the skies,

And ever so far away;

Alluring it calls: O ye the yoke galls,

And ye of the trails overfond,

With saddle and pack, by paddle and track,

Let's go to the Land of Beyond!"

********

"Whooooohoooooooo!" I exclaimed in joy, pumping my fist in the air. "Suck a dick, you scally bastard! Who's the best? We're the best! Who's dead? You are! Torrent, your best boi status has been solidified and codified into law." I pat the Spirit Steed's head with one hand, rubbing right at the base of his horns, just the way he liked. With my other hand, I fed him some of the raisins he loved.

Before us, crumbling to dust, was the massive remains of Agheel. He had been a drake, not a full dragon, but his stone-like skin had made him an even more formidable challenge than the Hellkite. It was only due to Torrent's incredible speed and maneuvering that I had been able to slay the creature.

We had kept circling it while on the ground, slicing at it when an opportunity presented itself. The biggest problem had been trying to ground it when it took to the air. The tiny bit of the local sorceries I knew did not penetrate its hide. We journeyed for over a decade before returning to the shallow lake Agheel used as a hunting ground.

It turns out the answer had been nearby all along.

There was a forbidden area in the Hero's grave I had washed up in. Using one of those stonesword keys, I gained access. I found quite some helpful stuff there, such as a golden seed for my flasks, a few examples of weapon coating, an interesting talisman, and a seal for casting faith-based spells, which would probably go unused. My most significant profit was when I destroyed the automated chariot that patrolled the grave using the explosive material nearby.

Picking through the remains of the chariot, I found a fabulous great bow. Seizing the opportunity, I had Hewg fashion some great arrows and, using my new toys, clipped Agheel's wings. The rest had been inevitable.

"Well done, Mikael," Melina said, appearing behind me on Torrent's back. I knew she never left me. "Very few tarnished can claim the title of Dragonslayer throughout history. Agheel, while not an Ancient Dragon, could still claim descent from them."

"Thanks," I was panting from the fight's exertion and the area's heat. Agheel's favourite tactic had been to carpet bomb the lake from up high. His flames would burn anyone present, and the boiling water would take care of most who managed to hide from the initial blast. My spirit summons had been cooked not long after their summoning. "What's that?" I asked as I claimed the Runes the dragon held.

There were quite a few, but the red lump falling into the shallow water was more interesting. It was ovoid in shape, the size of my head. Riddled with spikes, this grotesque organ continued to beat vivaciously. Even as Melina responded, I knew the answer.

"This is Agheel's heart, My Tarnished," she said as I slid off the horse and picked up the thing to get a better look. What I thought to be bone spikes were instead stone. While a terrible and savage-looking thing, the heart had a peculiar beauty to it. "Long ago, Dragon Trackers hunted the flying beasts. Theirs was an arcane practice of Dragon Communion. Unlike the Dragon Cult of the Capital, who sought to work with dragons, the adherents to the Communion sought to transform into them by consuming their hearts in ritualistic locations."

"Really?" Miyazaki loved dragons, a staple of western and eastern fantasy, and they had been present in every one of the games he directed except Bloodborne. The theme of turning into them was also well-trod, usually with disastrous consequences.

"Indeed," I could feel her nod even as she tightened her arms around my waist. "You have already discovered one of their churches, on the isle near the coast of Limgrave. The Dragon Communion Seal you found in the Fringefolk Hero's Grave is also one of theirs. While remnants remain of the practice, the edifice and adherents were wiped out by the dragons themselves. Their Cathedral was in Caelid before the battle of Malania and Radahn destroyed the country. Ekzykes, Dragon Communion Revenger, did not forget his hatred even as he succumbed to the scarlet rot and remains near the ruins to this day."

"Did it work? The transformation, I mean." I couldn't help but ask, threads starting to connect in my head.

"My Tarnished?" Melina asked sharply. "Surely you cannot mean to take part in such a practice? Theirs was a pure and overwhelming power, tis true. However, those who have performed the Dragon Communion will find their humanity slowly slipping away. Once they fully succumb to

their fate, they are left no more than wyrms that crawl the earth. The dragon-hearted were heroes of eld, but they fell one by one to the madness."

"I am as mad as I am going to get," I said plainly, still staring at the heart in my hand. In its pulsing rhythm, I saw a glimmer of hope. I might have a way to my freedom yet.

"Mikael!" She said seriously, concern in her voice as she looked up at me with worried eyes. "How sure are you that your... situation will protect you from the influence of the dragons?"

"Completly certain," I responded just as seriously.

I had told Melina a similar abbreviated story to the one I explained to Priscila so long ago. She knew about the other island women; she'd seen me talking to them and giving them items. I had kept the sheer scope of my situation from her, but the key factors were there. I was cursed to wander until I became Elden Lord. I would not and could not deviate from my course. My curse left my companions trapped, with the occasional visit, and me mad.

I hadn't told any of the other women on the island about Melina for three reasons. First, they could not interact with each other at all, so there would be no point. The second reason was that I did not need any of the drama that could come from their jealousy. If I offered Melina my bite in the future, we could deal with it.

My third, and most petty reason, was simply that I did not want to share. I wasn't compelled to love or even like Melina. Our initial accord was one of convenience. She needed to get to the Erd Tree, and I needed a maiden. Whatever sort of relationship that grew from there was for us alone. I still felt the alien emotion worm itself into me whenever the Island women were summoned, that never diminished, but everything I felt for My Maiden was purely between us.

"If you are completely sure," My Maiden said once she realized my resolution. While she still talked using her native accent, a decade spent with me changed her style and word choice. "If you are not at risk from their corruption, then the opportunity for a great power is there. Several Dragons still inhabit the Lands Between. Long ago, Godwyn the Golden defeated the ancient dragon Fortissax and befriended his fallen foe. While the Demi-god has perished, I haven't heard about the dragon doing the same. Or his sister, Lansseax, who took on human form during the time of the Dragon Cult. Greyoll and her brood still inhabit Dragonbarrow in Caelid. Faram Azula and the north should also be home to a few that remain."

"It sounds like we have a lot of dragons to hunt," I said as I remounted Torrent. I offered her a hand, which she gladly took, and she sat behind me again. "Before we make a list of targets, tell me everything you know about the Communion and those who practiced it. We'll stop at the church you mentioned, but then we'll have to go to Caelid for the Cathedral. I want to see if I can retrieve anything in its remains."

"Very well, then I shall tell you of the ancient troll warrior Theodorix. He was a hero of the War against the Giants..."

**********

The death of Agheel marked the end of my fun in the sun.

While there were still many moments of joy to come, great friends to see again, and places to explore, the unburdened wonder of that first decade was never felt again. Looking back on that time, I had behaved almost like a child, where everything was wonderful and full of adventure. Agheel changed things because he gave me the worst gift possible.

Hope.

I had been able to wander across Limgrave in such a carefree manner because, in a way, I was hopeless.

What did it matter if I spent decades or centuries galavanting across the countryside?

I had no guarantee that even if I managed the herculean task of becoming Elden Lord that I wouldn't just be shuffled off to the next word. Maybe a Fromsoft game I knew about, perhaps one that would be released five years after Elden Ring. I was ever urged onwards by Elements, but with no sense of purpose that a familiar game might bring, I was able to calm that urge by simple exploration.

Agheel changed things with his death.

Once a plan started to form in my head, it would not leave.

For once, I would be proactive. I wouldn't trust my fate to whoever or whatever placed me in this situation. I would find my own freedom.

Those thoughts drove me ever onwards through the blighted lands of Caelid.

My time in the rot-infested country was as horrific as one could imagine. The air was chocked full of the red fungus, and breathing was difficult at the best of times. During combat, when my lungs ached with every pump, I died more to the coughing fits than to the monsters that prowled the land.

And what monsters they were.

Mutated and horrific dogs, birds, and people infested those lands. The zombie-like dregs that wandered the roads in hoards were easy to avoid, but the animals were not so considerate. The dogs were shaped like a Tyranasaurous, their front legs shrivelled and misshaped, but their massive size and bulbous head made them even more dangerous. By far, the worst was the birds. Like someone had taken a crow, multiplied its size by a factor of ten, grafted hairy, human legs onto it, and filled it with enough malice to blot out the skies.

The army of the local Demigod, Starscourge Radahn, was a big help. They would still try and kill me if they saw me, but they were much more focused on beating back the blighted monsters of the Aeonian swamp.

In Caelid, if the air didn't kill you, and the monsters didn't kill you, then the Scarlet Rot would kill you.

It permeated the land in puddles, in fungal spores, and in the swampy ground. It accumulated over time through everything you touched or did. If you are unlucky, then you become infected by it. Like supped up necrosis, with a dash of the Mercer-virus. Once infected, you either killed yourself, set yourself alight with fire, or prayed it was only a minor infection.

Only Torrent's immunity to the stuff kept my exploration of Caelid to six years instead of the decades it could have been.

Perhaps the worst part was that Melina spent so little time out of spirit form to reduce the risk of infection that I had to traverse the former country almost entirely alone. Gone were the days we fell asleep under the stars in each other's arms.

Dragons were my main reason for heading to Caelid, but they were relegated to the status of McGuffins to me. I found a Wyrm in one of the mines that connected Caelid to Limgrave. One of the few dragon-hearted not already slain when the Communion fell. Alexander actually gave me a hand with that fight which was nice. The tight confines were not the best for fighting a lava-spewing lizard.

Ekzykes fell to the same tactic as Agheel, my great bow clipping his wings and bleeding him to death upon the ground by a thousand cuts. Greyll met a similar fate when he ambushed me during my exploration of Dragonbarrow.

Elder Dragon Greyoll was a more formidable challenge; despite being so old and large she had fused to the ground. The great beast was simply too big for me to deal any real damage to. She would call her brood to her assistance if I started any real damage. It took me three months to slay the neighbouring drakes, leaving her defenceless, and then carve my way to her heart.

I then learned she had four more I had to reach before she would finally expire.

Needless to say, by the end, I needed an extensive cleaning afterwards. Thankfully, Dragonbarrow had been the last stop of my time in Cealid, and I was pretty happy to return to the idyllic countryside of Limgrave.

Looking back on my time in Caelid is not a pleasant experience, but it was necessary. Not only to reach the Cathedral of Dragon Communion, which was crucial to my plan, but for two encounters that would shape the entire rest of my journey to be free.

**

I rode into the ruined church slowly, wary of any more traps. Rolling boulders were not a new addition to a Fromsoft game, a staple in fact, but one that changed courses to seek you out was new.

Sellia, Town of Sorcery had been one unpleasant encounter after another. The marionettes were annoying, but the invisible sorcerers had been a problem. I had taken to blanketing the streets and buildings in my Breath, fire purged most of the rot, but I had to be careful not to destroy the buildings and the knowledge they contained. It was a gruelling month of slow progress, but I was looking forward to going over my loot. There were quite a few items of interest and several books on sorcery.

I guessed the 'secret' of the city without effort, though Gowry did point me in the right directions to find the briars I needed to light to take down the spell barriers. The creepy old man had directed me up the hill to this church after repairing a needle found in the swamp. Supposedly, it was to heal a girl afflicted with rot that these shrimp people worshipped.

I called bullshit.

While Elden Ring was not a dead world like Dark Souls, as far as I am aware, it was still a game from the mind of Hidetaka Miyazaki. The man was an out-and-out masochist who enjoyed not only pain but heartbreak. The man would never have a kindly old man caring for a sick girl unless the girl turned into an abomination from beyond mortal kin or the kind old man was a psychopath.

I admired Miyazaki. I found joy in his work. I even liked the bittersweet feelings it could dredge up. The wonder and grandeur, the horror and terror, the nihilism and the exhilaration. Over the years I had played his games, I had grown to trust him to deliver a well-crafted experience, even if it was a kick to the balls.

But I never forgot that we were different people and liked different things. While I enjoyed Soulsborne games, I also enjoyed classic RPGs. I like my OP main characters, my trashy harem fantasy. I enjoyed the tropes of Chinese wuxia, xianxia, and xuanhuan novels. More than anything, I liked wish fulfillment and happy endings. The caveat being that they had to be well written, which they sadly were not most of the time.

Deep in my soul, I knew some sort of tragedy or terrible revelation was waiting for me in the future. Maybe the friends I'd made would die horrifically. Perhaps they would fall into despair. Possibly the final boss would be someone I grew to care about. I had no way to promise anyone a happy ending, not even myself.

So I remained cautious even as I burned the Pests to chitinous slag. I remained cautious as I approached the pitiful girl, curled up and coughing in the corner of a ruined church in a devastated country.

"Ah...Ahh," she moaned in pain to herself as I approached. I dismounted and dissipated Torrent but kept my hand on my weapon. At this range, it would be quicker to impale her on my Moonveil than to gather one of my Breaths. "Nggh... Who's there?" She asked blearily.

Her hair was scarlet. I don't know why that stuck out to me so much, but it did. Not the orangish-red on most gingers but a deep scarlet red, the same hue as the dried blood on her tunic. The same red of the skies and swamp of Caelid. It was a dishevelled, blotted mess. The type of hair you get when you do not bathe for a long time due to a violent sickness. I had hair like that at one point.

My eyes then fell to the rest of her. She was crumpled into a heap on the ground, writhing in pain. She was thin, almost emaciated and could clearly use a good meal. But of more interest was the absence of her right hand.

"Well, it matters not. If you are wise, you will leave immediately. My flesh writhes with scarlet rot. It is a curse. Not to be meddled with by man." She continued to say as I approached slowly. For a moment, I remembered the trailers for the game. In it, a one-armed, red-headed woman featured prominently. Was this her? Either way, I was here for a reason.

"Sorry for barging in," I smiled at the girl in a disarming way, trying to ease her worry. I was cautious, not heartless. "I just have something for you." I reached into my pouch a received the Gold Needle. "A totally not creepy old man at the bottom of the cliff asked me to give this to you. It is supposed to help with your sickness."

"A... needle?" Millicent asked as she squinted at the object.

"I know, I know," I was careful to not make any sudden moves as I approached. "A creepy stranger walks up to you and asks to stick you with a needle to make you feel good. The proper response is to call for an adult. But I am an adult, and I am just trying to help. I have no idea how this will help. Gowry seems to have your best interest for the moment." I slowly set the needle on her legs and backed away. My hand never strayed far from my sword.

"You ask that I stab myself with the needle... To quell the scarlet rot? But...how?" I was about to reiterate my cluelessness, but she shook her head and sat straighter. She took the gold item in her one remaining hand. "Never mind. I've decided. I would rather trust you than simply continue to spoil from within. Would you mind...averting your eyes for a moment?"

Numbly, I turned away. A part of me wanted to joke about how anorexia wasn't attractive to me. Another part of me realized my hand had fallen from my weapon, and if Millicent attacked while my back was turned, I would be finished.

The most significant part of me was focusing on my beating heart and sweaty palms and asking myself why her words struck me like a truck.

"Well. That was easier than expected." Her voice shook me from my momentary stupor. "But...why do I feel so..." I turned to see her collapse into a dead faint.

I didn't panic, but I did approach. Millicent's pulse was steady and regular, and her lungs sounded clear. I was no nurse or doctor, but everything I knew told me she was just asleep. I laid her in a more comfortable position before walking away to attune myself to the nearby Grace.

I took up the sacred tear absentmindedly, mixing it into my flasks to boost them. I then sat a ways away from the sleeping woman, with my back to a wall and commanding views of the access points.

While I remained half on alert (this was Caelid, after all), I also took out my instrument and began to play Kishi Ou no Hokori. I had been trying to adapt a lot of music I knew to this odd violin-like instrument with mixed success. Though I practiced for hours as the sun set in the red sky, my mind wasn't on my music. Whenever I tried to focus, my mind kept returning to the sick woman's words.

I would rather trust you than simply continue to spoil from within.

**

Getting into Redmane Castle had been surprisingly easy, all things considered.

I initially hadn't wanted to attempt it and only approached for a good look, but the army had been distracted by an incursion of the Rot Beasts. I still had to face fierce opposition, but it wasn't as well coordinated as I had expected. The forces, on average, were more challenging than Godrick's. They were more skilled and brutal but didn't cover their weak points or other castle accesses than the front gate.

The biggest challenge had been crossing the great bridge under the rain of siege equipment, but Torrent and I worked together perfectly. After sixteen years together, I barely needed to twitch to direct him where to go. We dodged bolts, boulders, vats of flaming oil, and soldiers alike. I felt like one of the steppe archers of old warriors who had been mistaken for centaurs.

Once we got past the fortifications along the bridge and to the side of the grand edifice, I casually walked in the back door.

From there, it was only a few guards between me and a Site of Grace in a massive feasting hall. Though the fires were not lit and food was scarce, I could tell the room could be occupied by over a hundred soldiers despite the Redgrave being much smaller than Stormveil. Beyond the hall was a wide plaza.

Large tables filled the space, as did stands and a towering bonfire that was unlit. Streamers and banners hung from the lines above. It looked like a festival ground, though one that hadn't been used in a while.

I cautiously made my way forward, wary of any soldiers or guards.

There were none.

I explored the area slowly before preceding forwards. Eventually, I came to the only occupant in this part of Redmane. An old knight sat reclined in a chair, his armour was unusually colourful, almost jester-like, but I remained cautious despite his eccentric appearance. He looked up at my approach but made no move to ready himself for combat.

"Oh, Tarnished, are you? How did you slip inside with the gate closed?" He asked. His voice sounded like sandpaper on wood. "Hmph. No matter. In my book, if you can fell one of them, you're a champion. I am Jerren. Foolish old warrior and witness. Incidentally, do you like a good festival from time to time?" I blinked at the question.

"I'm a die-hard misanthrope and introvert, but even I can see that this place isn't good for a festival," I said, and he barked out a bitter laugh.

"Well, it's true. This fortress houses only the vanquished. But when the stars align, we celebrate. A war festival honouring the last battle and death of General Radahn, the mightiest Demigod of the Shattering, and bearer of a Great Rune."

"Radahn has died?" I asked, unaware that someone had beaten me to his Great Rune. Had my dawdling caused me to miss out?

"He died when Malenia's rot took him." The old man said seriously. "What wanders the dunes is but his body. Festering with rot and crippled by madness, he only wants an honourable death. Once the stars align, we host a festival of war. The greatest champions of the realm journey here, to Redmane, to participate. For seven days, they pitch themselves against the Demigod in the hope of being the one to slay him. Centuries have passed, and no one has yet bested the great general."

"So wait," I couldn't help but ask. "You're telling me that the best fighters in the Lands Between travel from all around for this 'Festival'? Which is them repeatedly throwing themselves at one of the greatest heroes to die and revive for seven days? And this has been going on for centuries?"

"That is a good summation, yes."

"That sounds awesome," I said wide-eyed. Was this a Dark Souls Raid Boss? Jesus Christ, Miyazaki, I wished I had gotten to play that. "When is the next festival?" I asked eagerly.

"You are the first to arrive and are welcome to reside in the castle while you wait." Jerren gestured to nearby rooms. "The next time the stars align is in eight years. It happens every twenty years or so. Enough time for warriors to train and travel before attempting it again."

"I have things to do in that time, though I definitely will be back for the festival," I said, pulling up a chair. "Can you talk to me for a bit? I have a bunch of questions about Radahn, Malenia, the Shattering and Caelid."

"I have some old war tales if you are interested." The old man said.

I ended up staying in Redmane for a week, talking to Jerren and exploring the castle. It was also an excellent time to allow Melina to spend outside spirit form as the castle was well protected from the rot.

As we were lying in bed together in one of the castle's guest rooms, Melina lay her head on my chest and looked up at me. Her sweaty and dishevelled appearance matched my own.

"Are you so eager for the festival, My Tarnished?"

"Hm?" I asked, my mind returning to the here and now.

"I find your gaze wandering to the Wailing Dunes often. Are you so eager to fight the Starscourge?" She asked me.

"Not really," I said honestly. "I think the festival will be incredible and the fight epic, but that isn't what's been bothering me."

"Then what ails you?"

"It's just..." I paused, struggling to put my feelings into words. "He was a Hero, you know. Capital H and everything. General Radahn, I mean. I've read the records of his time in Sellia. His focus of study was gravity magic, to which he dedicated his life. All so he wouldn't have to leave behind his horse. I know he admired his father, Radagon, and was a devotee of the Golden Order. His troops loved him, and everything I know indicates that he was worthy of it. Though I am not sure why even mad, he continues to carry out his wish to hold the stars in place."

"I am aware of his story," she said, pulling away to sit and look down at me. "Do not tell me your hands will be stalled by misguided pity. As the old knight has told you, Radahn would rather die in glorious combat than waste away, eaten alive by the rot."

"I know that," I said sharply. "I have done and will always do what I need to do." I took a deep breath, bringing my annoyance in check. For all our closeness, Melina did not understand everything I had been through. What I had to do to get here. It wasn't her fault I was keeping secrets. It seems like that was all I ever did. "I guess I am just feeling melancholic, that's all. That such a great man can be reduced to such a state."

"Mikael," Melina said softly, laying back down and snuggling up to me. "That is why you must become Elden Lord. So you may wield the power to stop such events."

"I will do my best."

As My Maiden fell asleep, I fiddled with a small dagger I kept by our bedside. The moon provided enough light for slit, yellow, draconic eyes to stare back at me.

I didn't tell Melina that even if I became Elden Lord, I probably wouldn't be around long enough to do much good.

I didn't tell her I saw a bit of myself in Radahn. The various Fromsoft worlds I travelled to were my own Wailing Dunes. Only I would never die.

I would rather trust you than simply continue to spoil from within.

Was the Freedom I sought my own Scarlet Rot?

**

Ironically, neither of those encounters had anything to do with dragons.

After my time in the rot-torn country, Stormveil castle turned out to be a cakewalk.

The path to the castle had been blocked by someone called Margit, but he hadn't been all that tough. Melina later told me it had only been a projection of Morgott, one of the demigods and the one who ruled over the capital, Leyndell. I'm sure the entire city would be a challenge, but if Margit/Morgott was the final boss, it shouldn't be too hard.

The front gates and pathways were as well defended as expected, but a disgruntled servant had kindly shown me a back passage. Of course, I wasn't surprised when he later tried to betray and kill me. This was Elden Ring, after all.

I hadn't been the only interloper in the castle, a man called Rogier and a bandit-like woman named Nepheli Loux. I explored the castle with the former for a few days, though we split up after killing another of those spiders made out of people and spite. He was interested in the basement of the castle. I was also interested, but I figured it would be better to kill the Demigod first and then explore. The soldiers would be in disarray. I made plans to meet up with him at Roundtable later.

I met Nepheli near a courtyard I knew Godrick used for his experiments in grafting. She was apparently the adopted daughter of Gideon and here as one of his agents. Much like Millicent, I was sure that relationship would eventually lead to a tragedy of some sort, but I held my tongue. I knew the old tarnished was shady, but the Nepheli spoke highly of him. She would have to see things for herself.

The fight with Godrick the Grafted turned out to be... well, it was something.

**

"Forefathers, one and all… Bear witness!" The two-meter-tall man covered in arms screamed. He had been a grotesque sight when I first laid eyes on him. He just cut off his left hand, shoved his stump into a dead dragon's throat, and spewed fire like a water hose.

"That is so hardcore and disgusting at the same time," I said from thirty feet away. "That can't be sanitary."

"Lowly Tarnished," he sneered. At least, I think it was a sneer. It was hard to pay attention to his tiny head when the rest of him was... a lot. "Burn!"

I saw flames gather in the dragon's maw and narrowed my draconian eyes.

Fire welled up from my own throat. Anime has taught me exactly what to do in situations like this.

The two waves of fire crashed into each other with cataclysmic force, bathing the courtyard in flames. Mine was the greater power, but I quickly realized we weren't shooting beams at each other. We were both breathing like dragons, which meant fire.

Fire doesn't fight a fire; it just makes more fire. The inferno roasted my back as I ran away.

"Hot! Hot! Hot!"

Anime had lied to me.

**

Despite a hiccup, I killed the Demigod without dying once to him. Melina then told me to get the Great Rune's power, I had to go to the nearby Divine Tower. As soon as I stood before the Two Finger corpse and held the Godrick's Great Rune aloft, a new sense filled me.

A sense of completeness, stability and wholeness filled my chest. While it was powerful, I could feel that the true key to this Rune was the sense of unity it gave. It was like my body, previously made of different parts, was suddenly one whole. I knew with certainty that Godrick wouldn't have been anchored enough to attach and control so many disparate limbs without this Great Rune.

I then returned to Roundtable Hold. The first tarnished to slay a demigod and claim a Great Rune since the Shattering years ago.

It was eighteen years since I first woke up in that church, and I still had a long way to go.