//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: The God of Death // by TenebrisScholar //------------------------------// Alric, the Chosen Undead, had struck down the Lord of Cinder. He stood over the desiccated hollow corpse of the once great Lord Gwyn, holding Gwyn’s Lord Soul in his hand. The gold hemmed black robes — which he wore solely for their lightness and resistance against fire — flowed around him as he knelt before the broken body of the one almighty god he had just slain and prayed. He prayed to the only Goddess left in existence that was still alive and worthy of such veneration. Velka, the Goddess of Sin. He prayed to her that with his death, the Lord of Cinder’s sins may finally be forgiven. For now his sins would be forever undone and the world would be returned to its natural balance. The dark finally unbound by the curse, and the cycle of light and dark allowed to continue unabated as it was always intended. After his death and subsequently being branded with the Dark Sign, Alric had spent what could have been and very likely was eons studying every facet of the curse in search of a cure. He studied how it functioned, its effects on the soul, its effects on humanity… its history… He learned it was the Gods, and specifically Lord Gwyn, that placed the curse on mankind as he Linked the Fire in a misguided attempt to unnaturally extend the Age of Fire and the reign of the Gods. Ironically dooming the Gods to extinction and damning humanity to eternal torment and suffering. It was the first and greatest sin ever committed and it was committed out of a desperation to cling to power, a misguided fear of the dark, and pure unadulterated pride and hubris on the part of Gwyn. He had studied every possible avenue of undoing Gwyn’s machinations. Sorcery, pyromancy, miracles. He had read each and every last book within the Duke’s archives and learned all of the teachings Seath the Scaleless had to offer. He had traveled the world and found the Ringed City where he learned the secrets of hexes or abyssal sorcery from the Pygmy Lords themselves, including the time magic Manus had used to pull him back in time. After finding a way off the mountain top that was Priscilla’s home to further explore the painted world in search of secrets, he had accidentally found Velka living within and had learned miracles from the Goddess of Sin herself. Finally, he had even managed to convince Quelana of Izalith to teach him the secrets of the lost flame sorceries of Izalith by finding a method with which to truly cure the affliction her sister Quelaan was dying from. Unfortunately he was unable to find a means of reversing the effects the chaos flame had on her that rendered Quelaan half demonic, but that was of little consequence. He would focus on curing the victims of the Witch of Izalith’s sin after he undid Gwyn’s curse. He had tested and experimented developing his own spells and miracles based on all he had learned. While doing so, he had determined he was going to need all four of the Lord Souls to fully break the curse. Despite having only been made with a single Lord Soul, Gwyn’s Light Soul, it had grown in power since its inception and thus the power of all four of them would be required to undo it. So he had spent centuries studying the door to the Kiln of the First Flame to find a way to open it without sacrificing the Lord Souls to the Lord Vessel. Eventually after nearly driving himself hollow trying to find a way to break that thrice damned lock, he found a method to simply trick the lock into thinking the vessel was filled with Lord Souls. However it cost countless trillions of more common souls. He had to make heavy use of time’s broken state and spend a truly hellish amount of time doing nothing but slaughtering entire armies of hollows and other beings to accumulate all the souls he needed. However, just as important as having all four Lord Souls he would need the lord souls to be whole. He had already restored Nito’s Death soul to its former glory by merging it with countless other souls. He had also split the Dark Soul and merged it with its split pieces until it was on par with the other Lord Souls once more. Now the fragments of Gwyn’s soul held by the Four Kings and Seath the Scaleless would need to be merged with Gwyn’s soul once more. To that end, once he finished his prayer for Velka to forgive Gwyn, he retrieved the fragments that were previously held by Seath and the Four Kings and began the process of merging them back with Gwyn’s soul. This took only a scant few moments. Less than nothing compared to the millennia he had spent working to get to this point. When he was finished, he stood up and approached the First Fire. He placed the Dark Soul and the souls of Gwyn, Nito, and the Bed of Chaos around the fire then drew his Tin Crystallization Catalyst and Velka’s Talisman and set to work using the power of the Lord Souls along with his own soul and humanity not to relight the fire but to undo the Linking of the Fire and finally break Gwyn’s curse. The three souls of fire began to glow brighter as he worked while the Dark Soul seemed to grow darker and darker until it seemed to be pulling in the light from around it. By the time Alric noticed something was wrong, it was already too late. His eyes widened in surprise as his spell became unstable as he accidentally triggered a trap cleverly hidden within the miracle Gwyn used to Link the Fire and cast his curse. Acting fast he began shifting the spell and miracle in a desperate attempt to restabilize it and stop the trap he had triggered. However, it was completely futile. The trap was using his own magic, miracles, and the Lord Souls against him, feeding on their energy to fuel itself. He tried to mitigate the damage this trap would cause by stopping his sorcery and miracles, and had he had time to study and prepare, perhaps he may have been able to. However he had never in all his millenia encountered such a thing as this. The trap did not let him stop his casting. It forced him to continue against his will. A moment later there was a blinding flash of light. He was being teleported somewhere. He barely had time to react in order to pull the Lord Souls to him so as to not leave them behind in the Kiln. He would not risk losing them. As long as he had them, he could try again. He would not lose so much as a single one! The light faded and suddenly he found himself in the middle of an icy frozen wasteland somewhere. The sun was high in the sky, but he wasn’t anywhere he was familiar with. He heard flapping, looked, and saw an unfamiliar fur covered pig-like creature running away from him. Presumably startled by his sudden appearance. Looking down he saw that in his arms were all four Lord Souls. He had successfully managed to take them back before he could be teleported away. That was an immense relief to him. As long as he had the Lord Souls, he could always find his way back to the Kiln of the First Flame and continue where he left off. The trap was rather pathetic, all things considered. Impotent even. Merely teleporting him away? Gwyn really should have had the trap destroy him entirely. It was a little worrying, honestly. After all, why would the King of the Gods resort to such a paltry trick to protect the First Flame? It didn’t make sense. It implied that there was something he wasn’t accounting for. Something more insidious. However, he lacked any information to work with. He had not had a chance to truly study the divine energies involved in his sudden relocation to determine how the miracle worked, after all. So, he knelt in prayer and cast the homeward miracle, to bring himself back to the Fire Link Shrine. The divine light that was supposed to gather around him as he performed his miracle simply didn’t appear as the miracle completely failed. He reeled in surprise. Frowning, he put away Velka’s Talisman and reached into his bottomless box. He retrieved a homeward bone and crushed it in his hand. Still nothing. Cursing he reached towards his chest where his dark sign was branded upon him. He didn’t want to do this. Using his Dark Sign was always unpleasant. However, he saw little choice. His chest blazed with agony as he used his dark sign. He could feel his flesh rotting and his body desiccating as his humanity was consumed by the curse. However, this was all that happened. When it was over he was still within the icy wasteland. With a ragged raspy sigh Alric withdrew a humanity sprite from his bottomless box and immediately restored his humanity. Through his research, he had long since learned how to do so without the aid of a bonfire. Alric assumed this was part of Gwyn’s trap. The god had somehow found a way to prevent him from returning to the last bonfire he had rested at. It was much like the situation he had found himself in after the first time he was slain by Seath the Scaleless within the Duke’s Archives. Frustrating but otherwise of little consequence. He just had to find out where he was and find his way back. If it was a situation like the Painted World of Ariamis, he just needed to find the exit. He would not, no… He could not allow this to stop him for long. All undead had a purpose that kept them from going Hollow. His purpose was ending Gwyn’s curse. So he would stop at nothing to fulfill his purpose. Determined to overcome this newest challenge Alric set off in a random direction.  He walked for several hours before eventually noticing something. The sun was going down. When Gwyn linked the fire, cast his curse, and broke time the cycle of day and night had completely ceased to be. Instead, time differed from area to area. The sun could be blazing in the sky in one place then you could walk a few feet in another direction and it could be the dead of night. The best example of this he could think of was the short walk from the Firelink Shrine to the Darkroot Garden.  So the gradual shift in the light he had noticed should not have been a possibility. So he just stopped and stood there, staring up at the sky. He wanted to test to see if he was just coincidentally walking along a specific path that led along a particular stream of time that made it seem like the sun was moving or if it really was moving. Time passed by and sure enough the sun went down fully and the moon began to rise. “That’s concerning…” He muttered as he stared at the moon. If the sun and moon were operating in a normal cycle then that meant time wasn’t broken. If time wasn’t broken then that suggested something incredibly insidious of Gwyn’s trap. Either this was an illusion he would have to break out of, he was sent back in time to a point when time wasn’t broken, or… he was in another reality all together. He had long theorized other realities existed. An infinite number of them. If it was true and this truly was an alternate reality getting back was going to be near impossible. That thought completely terrified him. He needed to get back. His entire purpose was ending Gwyn’s curse. If his purpose had become impossible to fulfill, going hollow was inevitable. He shook his head. No… No, no, no. He wasn’t going to think like that. He could not think like that. If he did, it was over. Nothing was impossible, it just took time. And time was something he had plenty of. This was just a setback on his road to ending the curse, that was all. He had to keep going. He needed to find a settlement and find out where he was. Drawing his catalyst he cast a spell and created an orb of light above his head to illuminate his path before continuing on his way. He heard a sound like something between the whinny of horses and the unholy shrieks of the lost souls within the depths of the catacombs or the ghosts of New Londo. It sounded like it came from directly above him. Looking up he saw a stampede of spectral horses running through the sky in defiance of gravity. They almost resembled ghosts, which explained why they were able to fly as such. Their souls felt only moderately powerful, so he was more than confident in his ability to slaughter them all if necessary. He prepared to grab a transient curse from his bottomless box, just in case they couldn’t be harmed physically. However they passed him by with seemingly no issue. He raised an eyebrow at that. Did they simply not want to fight? Now that was a novel concept. In his experience unknown horrors from far off lands were always far too eager to attack whatever they laid their eyes upon, either unknowing or uncaring of the strength of their opponent compared to themselves. He did notice the already arctic temperatures had dropped considerably as they passed him by. As an undead cold could not kill him as it would the living, unless of course he was frozen solid and shattered, but it was quite uncomfortable. So he summoned his pyromancy flame and with a simple spell he warmed his ancient undead bones. He sighed in relief as the warmth spread through him. He had always preferred the heat of fire to the cold of ice, though the irony of that fact was not lost on him considering his ultimate goal. He watched the equine specters gallop off through the air. With a shrug he decided to follow them. Why not? It wasn’t as though he knew where he was going anyway. If he was just going to keep walking aimlessly until he found something of note, that direction was as good as any. He walked and walked, quickly losing sight of the creatures entirely as they were running and he was merely walking. He just kept walking in the direction he’d seen them heading. Eventually he saw something other than endless fields and mountains of ice and snow. He saw a village. The spectral horses circled overhead and the buildings were covered in a layer of ice. He sensed a few loose souls. It seemed everyone was dead. He momentarily considered consuming them but ultimately decided not to bother. He had consumed souls in the trillions, leveraging the broken time to consume certain souls repeatedly to gain as much power as possible. He had consumed enough that he was as powerful as any of the Lords at the very peak of their power. The souls of a single village of mortals meant less than nothing to him. It was like an arch dragon looking upon a few dozen ants and weighing whether or not to consume them. It just wasn’t worth it. He could collect them to have some spare souls to purchase supplies with, as he had wasted all of those he had saved up when he tried to use his dark sign to return to the Lord Vessel outside the Kiln of the First Flame, but he wasn’t sure they accepted souls as currency in this world let alone this land. Besides, he still had plenty of souls stored in his bottomless box. He preferred to carry most of his currency that way since he had grown tired of losing his accumulated souls whenever he died more than once early on in his unlife. So he just took out Nito’s Death Soul and cast them into whatever came next. He didn’t sense the curse of undeath upon them. It seemed they either weren’t human or Gwyn’s curse didn’t extend to the people of this world. Maybe both. So it was entirely possible they may have found their way to the afterlife or cycle of reincarnation or whatever was supposed to come after death on their own eventually. He had just sped up the process a bit. Putting the Lord Soul away he realized he could still taste some souls within the village. Two. There were two that still clung desperately to life. Curious, he approached the village, speeding up a bit. So many people he tried to help went hollow or worse. But he always tried regardless… Even if it always ended in tragedy, he always held onto some small hope that maybe this time he could make a difference. Maybe this time they wouldn’t be damned. He’d only succeeded once. Maybe twice. Quelaan. Curing her was his ultimate achievement thus far. She was the only one he’d saved who hadn’t suffered some terrible fate. She’d even been reunited with her only uncorrupted sister. One success out of hundreds of failures he could remember… He half expected the souls to give out and die before he could reach them. It would certainly be just his luck if they did. But somehow, miraculously, they survived until he managed to find them. Interestingly there were no corpses outside as he had expected. It seemed everyone had rushed inside to await death. Perhaps these cold specteres were known to these people and they’d done everything they could to save themselves, but ended up succumbing regardless of their best efforts. Alric reached the house where he sensed the two souls. He opened the door, walked inside, and quickly closed it behind him. He looked around. Inside he saw the frozen corpses of two equine creatures with odd proportions and colors embracing each other desperately. They were next to a fireplace that had only a few struggling embers left on half charred wood. As if the cold itself had overwhelmed the heat of the fire and had somehow managed to snuff out the flames. Next to the corpses was a huge bundle of blankets. It was like they had gathered every blanket and scrap of fabric in the whole house and had bundled it around whatever was underneath the pile. Alric suspected what he would find when he lifted the blankets away. He summoned his pyromancy flame to his hand and lowered his hood, revealing his face. He had short messy black hair, almost ghostly pale skin, blue eyes, and a clean shaven face. Not a single scar or blemish marred his features. Despite appearing no older than his mid twenties, if one were to look in his eyes they would see the look of someone who had lived far too long and had seen far too much. Otherwise his features were quite unremarkable. He started to approach the bundle. “W-w-what’s th-that?” A muffle voice asked from under the pile. It sounded like a little girl, shivering in the unnatural cold. “Shh! I-I-I d-don’t kn-know.” Another muffled voice whispered back urgently. It sounded like another little girl. Alric paused, not wanting to make them panic. “I’m a friend. I’ve come to help. I have warmth. May I approach?” There was silence for a moment. “M-m-mommy? D-d-daddy?” One of the voices asked. Alric sighed. “They’re gone, child. It’s only you and your sister here.” “Wh-Wh-What d-do you m-mean? Wh-wh-where did they g-g-go?” The ever so slightly younger of the two voices asked. “Ehem… To a better place, shall we say. Regardless, only you two are here so only you can answer me. May I approach? I would like to help you. I have magic that can warm you both.” Alric requested. “P-pl-please… It’s… It’s so c-c-cold…” The slightly older voice pleaded. “Very well… Just so you’re aware, I may not be the same species as you so don’t panic upon seeing me.” Alric told them as he finished approaching the bundle. He positioned himself so that the children wouldn’t be able to see the corpses of what he assumed were their parents as he lifted the bundle of blankets and held out his pyromancy flame. He had it radiate warmth enough to drive back the frost and cold, but did not allow it to set the blankets alight. Just as he suspected, underneath the pile of fabric were two young fillies. They were both clinging to each other, shivering in the relentless supernatural cold. They looked at him in a mix of fear and desperate hope. One was ever so slightly larger than the other. She had pure white fur and a light rainbow mane and tail. The other was slightly smaller and had dark blue fur. Her mane and tail were lighter blue than her fur. Both had horns on their heads, like the unicorns in the myths of Catarina. He tried to give them a warm comforting smile. “A-are y-y-you a c-centaur?” The younger of the two asked. “Centaur? No, child. I am a human. A sorcerer, to be specific. One who studies the arcane.” He told them, forgoing mentioning his curse. He didn’t want to scare them. Regardless, so Centaurs existed in this land as well? A myth of Carim. He’d seen first hand beings very much like centaurs. Quelaan and Quelaag both had the upper bodies of goddesses and the lower bodies of monstrous spider demons. Then there were other beings he’d met with the torsos  of men and the lower bodies of scorpions. But he had never met a true centaur. A man with the lower body of a horse. Even in his journeys through time he had never once encountered one. They simply didn’t exist outside of fairy tales. Nor did unicorns for that matter. The fact they apparently existed here was telling. Gwyn had sent him to a world of myths. “H-h-how are y-you n-not c-cold?” The older of the two asked. “The same way I am warming the two of you. Through pyromancy. Speaking of, I would like to cast a spell to warm you two more directly. It would merely speed along this process a bit. May I?” Alric requested. The older of the two nodded shakily. Two lines of flame emerged from his pyromancy flame and touched the two fillies. Very quickly relief spread across their faces and their shivering began to ease. “There we are. Is that better?” He asked. “Mhm! This is amazing!” The younger of the two nodded happily. “It’s like when mommy puts us in a nice warm bath after we run around outside in the winter!” The older one stated. Alric tilted his head up a bit and glanced at the two corpses for a moment before looking back at the foals, trying to decide how to handle this situation. “My name is Alric. As I said, I’m a human sorcerer from a land very far away. I sensed you two when I came across this village and I, of course, had to try and help you. What are your names?” He asked “I’m Celestia. This is my sister Luna.” The older of the two informed him. “Sissy’s six years old. I’m only four.” Luna stated. “Ah… Well, I’ve been alive for a very long time and time doesn’t quite work the same where I’m from as some very mean people broke it for very selfish reasons. So I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest clue how old I am. I am, at the very least, tens of thousands of years old. Likely much older. I’m actually quite envious that you two know your ages!” He said, trying to be friendly. The older of the two looked at him in confusion. “Broke time? How did they do that? And you don’t look all that old. Your mane isn’t white and you aren’t all wrinkly like old ponies.” Alric sighed. “It's a long story… Regardless, I’m quite happy with my appearance. Imagine just how gray and shriveled I would be if I actually looked my age. Why, I’d put even the oldest driest raisins to shame!” He said with a smile. The two giggled. Then the older one looked at him in worry. “You said mommy and daddy are gone? Where are they? We didn’t hear them leave… Did they go get help?” Alric winced. “Er… Not quite… I’ll explain in a bit… For now, can you tell me what happened here? What are those specters above the village? Why is it so cold?” “Uh… Daddy said something about some earth ponies coming by with food, but there wasn’t as much as last year. So a lot of ponies started getting mad… Then we heard the windigos coming. Mommy and daddy said they were attracted by the hate between everypony else and those Earth Ponies. They said they should go away soon. But it’s been so long and they’re still outside…” Celestia explained. “Ah… And I take it they’re the ones making it so cold?” He inquired. “Mhm… Mommy and daddy say they bring cold and blizzards. They’re why everything is always so cold and snowy. The noises they make are really scary too…” Luna stated. “I see… If I had known…” Alric muttered to himself. If he had known, he would have simply killed the beasts when he first saw them rather than letting them come here and destroy this village. But he couldn’t just say that to a couple of children who had just lost their parents. “Well… Do you have any family you can stay with in any other towns or villages? Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents?” Celestia shook her head. “Mm-mm…” Alric sighed. “Of course… Very well. Then, I suppose I have no choice but to let you stay with me. At least until we can find someone of your own kind to take care of you.” “But… Where are mommy and daddy?” Luna asked, not understanding. Celestia looked worried, and tears started welling in her eyes. Alric assumed she was starting to suspect the truth. “We’ll discuss it once we’re somewhere safer… I’m going to get you both out of here. However, the uh… windigos, was it? They’re very scary and I don’t want the water in your eyes freezing once you’re out from under these blankets. So I’m going to need you to shut your eyes until I tell you it's safe. Can you two do that for me?” “But…” Luna objected, only to be cut off by a hug from Celestia. “It’s okay, Luna… He’s been really nice and made us warm, right? He’s a nice human… So let’s… Let’s just listen to him…” Celestia told her little sister. “Okay…” The younger of the two muttered. Both of them closed their eyes and Alric wrapped them in a smaller bundle of blankets he could easily carry and picked them up. As he stood up, he noticed Celestia open her eyes and look at her parents' corpses. She stiffened and stifled a gasp. Alric leaned his head down and whispered into Celestia’s ear quietly enough that Luna couldn’t make out what he was saying, “Shh… Please just close your eyes, little one… You shouldn’t have to see this…” Tears started running down Celestia’s face and she stifled a sob as she closed her eyes. Alric gave her a gentle squeeze in an attempt to comfort her as he started walking out of the frozen house carrying the two orphaned fillies in his arms. The flame in his hand flickered in the wind of the blizzard as he used pyromancy to keep them and himself warm. He trudged out into the ice and snow of the frozen tundra and kept walking away from the village. Leaving the bodies of the dead behind. He saw a cloth covered cart outside the village and looked inside. Huddled together were the corpses of the “Earth Ponies” who had brought the food to this village. There were still a few crates and barrels inside. Possibly their supplies originally meant for their journey back to their own village, or possibly supplies meant for other villages. Being undead, Alric had no need to eat or drink to survive. He did sometimes but unless whatever he was consuming was magical in some form, he got nothing from it. So he didn’t have anything in the way of food to feed these children. Save for some moss, green blossoms, and elizabeth mushrooms. And horses were herbivores so he couldn’t just go out and hunt for them unless it was an emergency and they’d starve to death otherwise. “I’ve found something. It’s not anyone of your own kind, but we’ll be needing it for later. I’m going to set you down for a moment. The Windigos are still here, so keep your eyes closed. My pyromancy will last for a few minutes even without me holding you both so you’ll be alright. Just call out to me if you start getting cold again before I’m done.” He told them, setting them down at the side of the cart where they couldn’t see the corpses if they disobeyed him and they did open their eyes. “O-okay… Uh… Is… Is it…?” Celestia asked nervously, still holding back her tears. “Never you mind, Celestia. Just keep your eyes closed and stay here with your sister for a few moments while I work.” Alric told the filly. “What did you find?” Luna asked curiously. “It’s a few crates of supplies. I don’t have food to keep all of us fed so I’ll need to collect what I can. I’ll only be a moment.” Alric told the younger sister. Luna gasped in shock and horror. “Are you gonna steal? But stealing’s bad! You’ll get in trouble!” “No, no, it was abandoned. Trust me. If I thought it belonged to anyone, I’d just buy it. I have currency and plenty to trade. But none of this has an owner so there’s no one I can pay and no one to be stolen from. So taking it isn’t stealing.” Alric told the filly as he climbed into the cart and started shoving the crates and barrels into his bottomless box. “Oh… Okay.” It only took a few moments for Alric to clear out the cart. He considered tossing out the bodies and taking the cart too, but he didn’t want to have to pull the damn thing himself. He could also make shelter with the crystal sorceries he learned in the Duke’s Archives so he didn’t need it for that. So ultimately it just wasn’t worth it. Just carrying the children would be far less work than pulling the cart. When he was done he came back to see Celestia and Luna leaning against each other, still bundled in their blankets. Both of them still had their eyes closed like he asked them. He smiled. Despite the tragedy of their situation, he was glad they could find comfort in each other. An opportunity many never had. “I’m done. I’ve collected all I can.” He told them, picking them back up. “Alright… Uh… Alric…? Where are we going…?” Celestia asked, unable to fully keep the sadness from her voice. “Away from here, for starters. Then I’ll make a shelter for us to stay in. After that, I’ll start searching for a place that can take you in.” He walked for hours with the fillies in his arms. Eventually they both fell asleep. He wasn’t surprised. It was night in a world where time hadn’t broken and the cycle of day and night was still consistent. It was far past the time they should have been in bed. He almost envied them. As an undead, he did not sleep. He could not. The realm of dreams was far beyond him. The closest he could get was the time between whenever he died and when he was resurrected at whatever bonfire he last rested at. Those fleeting few seconds of peace before he awoke again and had to throw himself back into the meat grinder to overcome whatever challenge he was facing. He hadn’t even had that in the more recent centuries. Once he’d reached the strength of a Lord, nothing but other lords could challenge him. Even then Manus had been insane, Nito had sacrificed most of his power to death, and neither Seath nor the Four Kings had a full Lord Soul, just mere fragments bequeathed to them by Gwyn. Even Gwyn himself had been little more than a husk of the once great deity he used to be, the curse he cast turning him hollow just as surely as it did all of humanity. The Bed of Chaos had been the only one with the strength to defeat him, and she had incinerated him hundreds of times. Thousands even, before he had figured out her weakness. He had been on the verge of going hollow before he managed to see a glimpse of the bug in her roots. Only then did he realize how to truly slay her. It had been hell… He never wanted to experience those fleeting moments of peace ever again. They weren’t worth the pain of death… These children could enjoy their dreams all they wished. He would content himself with the waking world.