Life
Fluttershy remained a quivering ball swaddled in quilt from the safety of her home for the remainder of that day. Sitting at the very end of her spring-green sofa, her tail hung over the edge and was occasionally tugged at by a scowling Angel Bunny, or one of the many woodland critters that retreated into the cottage upon the the dragon’s arrival. From owls to parrots to even a bear or two, they all fled in fear upon the great beast’s arrival.
Behind Fluttershy, sunbeams pouring in through her massive picture window signified the day drawing to a close. She hadn’t even realized that she wasted an entire day, as it was mainly spent stealing peeks of the albino drake still curled up in the clearing, and then cowering back under the covers when even the slightest twitch of a finger was made. It seemed he barely moved an inch since he first arrived.
“Fwooom,” the dragon exhaled like icy and strong like a blizzard; Angel Bunny’s hairs stood on ends whenever the walls around him would creak and groan, as if they were daring to give out at a moment’s notice.
“Fwooom.” Fluttershy’s body trembled every time a ragged gust of wind would blow against her home. “Why?” she thought aloud. “Wh-Why won’t he just leave? And wh-where’s Twilight? Where’s Applejack?”
“Fwooom.” The wind chimes in her backyard clattered and clanged in a squall of discordance, tugging against the piece of rope that tethered them to the tree limb.
From below came a flurry of wild squeaks. Fluttershy tensley peered over the cushion and found Angel Bunny with his face compressed into his trademark scowl, complete with paws folded and foot tapping.
Fluttershy moaned, hooves moving to cover her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do, Angel.” What can I do?
“Fwooom.”
Angel’s foreleg jerked outward, directing to a point beyond his owner’s head and out the window. Fluttershy only made a glance in that direction before snapping the covers back over her head. “I can’t go out there, Angel! I really, really can’t!”
“Fwooom… fwoo-fwooom!” A mighty blast of wind rocked Fluttershy’s cottage, forcing a shiver down her spine and drawing the birds perched about into a frenzy.
Angel narrowed his eyes, giving her a look that said, “If you won’t, then I will,” which Fluttershy immediately picked up on.
“Don’t go out there, Angel! It’s dangerous . . . and scary.”
“Fwom!”
Fluttershy buried her face in the nearest pillow and let out a shrill cry. She remained there for a short spell, soaking in her situation, and returned with hopeful smile on her face.
“Maybe . . . Maybe he’ll be gone tomorrow morning?” she asked Angel, who thought for a moment before throwing his paws up in puzzlement. “Yeah! Maybe he just stopped for a rest. It’s still trying to warm up outside, right? Wait, are dragons cold-blooded?”
Once more, Angel shrugged, but not in response to his owner’s question; when she started mumbling herself to sleep, he simply left Fluttershy to her thoughts. Maybe she was right, or maybe she’d wake up in the morning to find her chicken coop vandalized and abandoned, with nothing but tufts of feathers and a dragon-sized depression printed into the earth it left behind.
The chicken coop . . .
Angel Bunny froze in mid-step. His beady little eyes darted around the living room and the animals and his little round bed space before they settled on Fluttershy, who was now fast asleep and bundled up in blue quilt like a cocoon. A squeal hitched itself in his throat as his drum of a heart pounded at an impossible rate.
Angel had always prided himself as being one of the braver pets living at Fluttershy’s cottage. He needed to be, as she would likely never leave the abundant safety of her home if it weren’t for him. But what Angel realized, what suddenly dropped on his shoulders like Celestia herself, terrified the brash little rabbit in more ways than he could imagine:
it was that the house had gone still; the dragon’s ragged breath had fallen silent.
While many would see this as a sign of relief, that the drake may have finally left on his own, Angel’s hearing was superior to ponies’, and what he heard, even at a faint muffle, was a low, predatory growl carried over the frantic cries of two dozen chickens. It was a growl Angel heard many times growing up in Fluttershy’s cottage: a growl made by hungry predators when a meal is spotted.
Without even giving it a second thought, Angel dashed his way up the couch, using Fluttershy as a platform and launching extra-hard off of her in an effort to wake her up. His mild effort was in vain, but he ascended to the windowsill to find that his fears rang truth. The pearly-skinned dragon had his claw clasped around the chicken coop like it were just a little foal’s toy, preparing to rip it from its foundations. The drool pouring from his spearhead of a muzzle pooled below. Angel’s mouth fell open to scream and a girlish cry came.
He didn’t even need to give a moment’s pause. With little regard for his owner’s comfort, he leapt from the windowsill as hard as he could manage, praying the entire way down that this one and only chance would give purchase. Angel landed on Fluttershy’s laxed face, paw-on-cheek giving off a light smack. Her eyes were just beginning to crack open as Angel grasped the end of her mane and tugged, sitting her up.
Fluttershy was rubbing her eyes in a slow, almost deliberate manner while her pet continued to frantically pull at her mane. “Angel what is—”
The snap and rumble of splitting wood resonated throughout the cottage. Fluttershy turned her head, slow, as though in a trance without even thinking about the . . . the . . .
The dragon.
Her blood ran cold at the sight of the white drake lazily moving the chicken coop into his great maw. The screams and cries of the chickens inside were heard across the yard and through the window.
No. “NO!” Flying at speeds even her friend Rainbow Dash would be proud of, Fluttershy whipped out her backdoor and in the blink of an eye found herself standing on a clammy white muzzle, staring into the empty voids of the great white dragon. “Stop!” she begged, lightly stamping her hoof to punctuate her command.
Either the dragon chose to ignore her, or he truly did not notice; those clumps of ice that may or may not have been his eyes betrayed no emotion, and Fluttershy felt the muzzle beneath her hooves descend.
“I said STOP!”
This time, the dragon did listen. His mouth abruptly slammed shut, almost making Fluttershy lose her footing, and she found the coop still in the beast’s claw, but safely out of his mouth. And then came the growl. That low, beastial rumble that was like the gurgle of a threatening sabercat.
Invigorated by adrenaline and her motherly instincts, Fluttershy cast aside her fears like they were just another layer of skin and asked the very first question in her mind with care but also a certain protectiveness edging her voice: “Hello, Mister Dragon. My name’s Fluttershy. If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here in the middle of Equestria?”
The beast did not answer right away. And for a minute, Fluttershy truly believed the creature was deaf. “Mister Dragon?”
Without warning, the monster’s entire body trembled. Fluttershy took to air right as the beast shifted his knobbly shoulders, twisting his body around and giving her an eyeful of an ugly pink scar gashed deep above his . . . belly. The wound had split while making the effort to move, turning a fresh red that seeped down the side he was leaning on.
“Oh my gosh!”
Seath thought the female named Fluttershy cried in dismay at his horrific lack of proper legs, swapped instead for a pair of useless tendrils. And for just a second he thought of smashing the four-legged flier into the dirt.
But then he sensed her hovering like a curious fly around his torso, near the wound that bled once again. Seath gurgled in pain.
“You poor, poor thing!” she cried, tracing the fold of what remained around the gouge with a touch as light as the wind. “I’m sorry for thinking you were here to scare me, Mister Dragon! You poor little . . . Just hang on! I’ll go get you something for the pain. A-And some food!” And just like that, the creature with a tiny voice was gone, as well as her feather-light touch.
She came back minutes later when the flow from Seath’s wound had already stopped, the blood caking his belly drying and browning under the setting sun.
“Here you go, urgh, Mister Dragon.” She sounded as though she were heaving something heavy, and dropped it beside his weary head.
Seath wanted to say his name, to recall the cruel nickname given by the common people, but he could never find the voice to speak, and the sense of loneliness as he was cut off completely from his Channelers added an extra layer of helplessness for the old blind dragon.
As the suspiciously benign creature began to cleanse his scar with something cold and curdled, Seath sniffed whatever she dropped nearby but smelled nothing. At least nothing familiar. He returned to resting his head in the plush grass and listened to the female as she hummed to herself a merry tune while she toiled.
Several minutes passed until the female ceased her singing and tending. “There,” she said. “If you just take it easy for a couple of days, then your hurt will heal itself and you’ll be back on your . . . feet? In no time!”
Seath suddenly became furious at the jape and slammed his tendrils only once into the dirt before a spear of pain shot up his belly. A raucous cry rang throughout the clearing.
“Easy now!” urged the female. “Easy!” He felt her land beside his ear, but did not care until she pushed the pile of scentless rubbish towards him. “Please eat, Mister Dragon. I’m sure it’s not as . . . as tasty as my . . . my ch-chicken friends . . . but I have a friend like you that loves sapphires and rubies!”
No one is like me, he wanted to say, growing sick of the yapping creature’s folly. Her ignorance and swift change of face between terrified to kind brought an ugly, wary taste in Seath’s mouth.
“You don’t like jewels?” she pressed. “Oh, my. Um . . . I have barrels of salted fish for my bear friends in the cellar?”
Meat is good, that finally resonated with Seath and was something he could appreciate right about now. Anything to stamp out the frailty hurting both his joints and spirit.
The creature returned once more, though took a bit longer than the time prior, as the stars were out and crickets sang when she did, heaving a wooden something that creaked with every step she made and reeked of rotting fish. After a millenium of nothing but the giant clams that prowled his lair, it was one of the few memories that made Seath feel truly alive.
“Here you go, Mister Dragon.” The barrel fell into the grass, contents churning inside. He heard her remove the lid. Seconds later, something raw and reeking smacked him lightly at the tip of his muzzle. Seath slowly reared his head up and looked in the direction of the projectile, where he heard the female’s voice, once again filled with the same fear she held for him when first they met. “I’m sorry I’m sorry! I thought—I mean I just assumed, though it was very wrong of me—that you and you were . . . were . . . eep!”
The little thing made an even smaller squeak when Seath reached out towards her and clasped the barrel in between two fingers. He turned it upside, pouring its salty contents into his open maw and settled it back where he picked it up.
“I’m sorry about that,” she repeated, but punctuating it with a small titter. The feather-light touch came once more, but along the outline of his jaw. As she made small, drawn strokes, Seath felt an odd sense of calm that slowed his heart to a relaxing pace. Who was this? What is she and why is she doing this for the most loathed creature in all of Lordran? Is she truly kind, or ignorant? Seath didn’t have the energy to analyze her behavior. He just suddenly felt overbearingly tired, his eyelids growing heavy. Just when was the last time he had actually slept anyway? All that time working for years turned centuries in his library . . .
“Your skin is really pretty.”
Seath’s sightless eyes sprang open. Liar! he roared in his head, emitting a throaty growl and trembled the corners of his mouth. The feather-light touch was gone, as was the soothe in the creature’s little voice as she yelped and took flight.
“Wh-Wha—I’m sorry Mister Dragon! I-It’s just that, you don’t have any of those rough, uncomfortable-looking scales covering your body! I’m sorry! Your skin though, it just looks really shiny and soft in the moonlight."
Seath’s anger was deposited with a gusty snort. He had enough of this creature’s juvenile mind games. He had faced crueler naysayers than she in his years of living amongst the legendary in Anor Londo, long before he went mad and locked himself in the Archives.
And yet, he did not sense the critter fly away either. She seemed to have waited until he had fallen asleep, or looked as though, as he tricked her with long, guttural noises that resembled snoring. As the wind shifted and he felt her presence leave, he could have sworn he heard her whispering urgently to some other deity or maybe herself about writing to a princess.
Princess . . .
But Seath truly succumbed to sleep before he could dwell for long. She must have put something in the fish barrel? To make him sleep? That made sense, and he had to spend his last lingering thoughts admiring her for the deceit.
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There. It's here. Now leave me alone!
fc00.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/089/9/9/spiffy_seath_by_diretylo-d4uh3so.png
Shouldn't Seath get an OC tag?
4179883 Never
4179883 Alright, we'll leave you alone about the second chapter.
Now, about the third chapter...
4179883 until Seath learns the magic of friendship, you shall not sleep
whatwouldkatedo.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/now-go-back-to-work.png
I can't help but wonder why now, two or three years after it's been released, dark souls is JUST NOW becoming a thing.
4179924 He's not an original character.
4180035 Mainly from Demons Souls fans telling their friends to play Dark Souls. It's like MLP, really.
4179883
i3.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/719/076/2eb.gif
4179883
Been Replaying Dark souls, Just got to Seath in my gameplay today. Thought I would take a break for Pony reading...
AND I FIND THIS! <3
4180126 Yeah, imagine Seath lying on his stomach with his tentacles laid out like an octopus.
4180160 I love you for that.
It's B-Ballin' Ornstein and Slammin' Smough in da house!
4180167 You're welcome.
4180187 's all good. D'ya have Dark Souls 2 on Xbox 360, by chance?
4179883
Yay! A new chapter!!
Yay, a new chapter!
Now I just need another one once a week until Dark souls 2 is released on PC...
Thank you for writing another chapter!
I'm glad I stayed on the ship!
4180196 I do, but I'm a
That's like, half the game. Luckily my friend's got a bunch of two-day trials.
lazypoor motherfucker and don't have Gold.Awesome game though.
4180074 He may not be an OC; but he still deserves an "other" tag, I believe.
4179883
But.....why it take so long in first place?
MOAR!
WRITE FASTER!
IGNORE THE SOCIAL LIFE.
4180269 the Other tag is for characters that don't have their own tags, like Pinkie's parents or something like that.
4180291 Ah had stuff happenin'
4180265 It's just as rage-inducing as the first one, but that's all part of the fun.
It was good, but it felt too short.
4180879 Yes, I know. I felt that when I finally saw the word count. I wanted to add more, but then it would have ruined what I had in mind for the next chapter "Social Status"
IT'S ALIVE! Great work, by the way! TOTALLY worth the wait!
Yes! Thank you for updating this!
Seath is such an interesting character but was never really fleshed out in the game, so I'm really exited to see how you write him!
Seath is the bane of my bucking existence when it comes to DkS....
Aaaand I'm annoyed....I was mucking about with Cheat Engine when I was planning to do a forced co-op(Invade, and turn myself into a white phantom) and I ended up permanently being turned into a floating head with no weapons or armor(I had an inventory, I just literally couldn't equip anything, as if my entire character had dragon form activated)...Needless to say I was very annoyed.... I was in NG+2 SL 123...and yes, I find it funny my level was at that value.
Ah well, Continue on with your story, while I continue trying to pull off the Butter Knife Challenge(Beat the entire game using only daggers and shields)
4181487 That's what'cha get fer cheatin'
Hell yes, a new chapter! A hundred Thank you's for continuing this story!
MOAR!
I don't know much about Dark Souls, but there's a sorcery called "White Dragon Breath". And sorcerys require catalysts, which have limited uses. BUT, that particular sorcery was derived from the Everlasting Dragons. Seath is the Last of the Everlasting Dragons. Can he use it infinitely?
4185902 White Dragon Breath was derived by the sorcerer, Big Hat Logan, during his time at the Duke's Archives. In essence, White Dragon Breath IS Seath's "fire breath".
Looks like he'll be stuck on the same spot for quite a while.
Seath would probably be too happy seeing more of them, so preparing the heaters and the body bags wouldn't be much of a waste.
4186396 so... yes?
4190241 Yes
4191298 cool. BTW, how are catalysts made anyway?
4194508 It's never truly explained. Certain catalysts are made from enchanted whitewood branches, such as the Oolacile catalysts.
4194526 so basically stereotypical alchemy?
4194529 Yep basically.
4194537 sounds fun. Personally I think they should have made a system where you can make your own catalysts, and a few small spells that don't need one.
4194621 A novel idea, but in the game's world spells NEED a catalyst to be cast, whether it'd be a staff, chime, talisman or pyromancy flame.
4194632 huh. Then maybe a few catalysts that don't even run out.
Now we need Angel in full Havel's to really freak Seath out.
Good to see an update and lookin' forward to more in the future.
...I really need to finish my own Dark Souls crossovers :T
4201014 He wouldn't see it and I don't think he felt up Havel enough to remember it through touch
4194632 A pyromancy flame is actually created through force of will by an individual and is technically part of them.
i.imgur.com/yyIgI.jpg
Yo.
This still going or what?
I don't think this is updating.
on a side note, the author hasn't been back in a year and a half, so unless there is a update or the author comes online, I shall presume this fic DEAD. The same applies for the author.
7228297
Yes, that was my point, but the fic says "they were the eyes of seath the scaleless" in the first paragraph.
4179924
hmm maybe...