You've made your choice , and whether it'll ultimately be for good or ill, you can't say. But there's some small part in you that truly doesn't care. Bringing about the Age of Fire or the Age of Darkness, did either choice matter in the end? If you were to bring the light of Fire to man then what? Be a symbol like Gwyn? Be a hero of the people? And on the reverse. You cast all the world to the Darkness! Damn the world and everyone in it! Then what? Slink back into the shadows? Just fade away? You don't know. You simply did what you felt was right...
It was like Fate was pulling you along for the ride and didn't care for any petty objections. And at the end of that tumultuous and winding ride you found yourself here: The Kiln of the First Flame. You had cut a brutal swath through its protectors; the Black Knights. And after that you killed a deity. Gwyn...was that deity. The Lord of Cinder himself. The battle was...oddly quiet. No grand speeches, no declarations, no verbose threats. Just the sounds of swords clashing against one another in a dead world. Just you and a tired, old man. And after that final blow was struck and Gwyn was no more...you made your choice.
And now you're standing just outside the grand chamber that housed your's and Gwyn's decisive battle, staring warily up at the dull sky. The cold, craggy, and harsh roof of the Kiln was the only thing to greet your gaze. So many thoughts running through your head... But then, you feel it. That familiar feeling... There was sorcery in the air. But that isn't possible. The Kiln was not simply something that could be strode into by anyone who pleased. And the Black Knights did not employ lowly mages into their ranks. To think you were followed here was... You sigh. You're tired, very tired, but you don't let that deter you. With one graceful movement you draw Astora's Straight Sword from its sheathe and raise the Crest Shield to meet this unseen foe, whomever they were.
You stand with weapon and shield drawn but nothing lurches from the shadows or comes screaming at you with fervent bloodlust. Whomever is weaving this sorcery has hidden themselves, and quite well. You scan the bleak Kiln and naturally there are truly no ideal spots to hide ones self in. Though this sorcery feels so strange... And the length of time its been charging is unheard of. No sorcery, no pyromancy, nor miracle take this long. Was it possible that this peculiar feeling was the result of your choice? You quickly glance back towards the chamber before turning back to face any enemies. Still nothing! But...this feeling is getting heavier. And you feel yourself getting...lighter. So very light. Your vision begins to waver and sway. A quick shake of the head attempts to regain clarity. To let ones guard down in Lordran was to invite a swift and painful death. But that persistent feeling of lightness was getting more and more pronounced. You're panting heavy and hard, vision practically swimming now. Damn this cowardly mage and his magics. You break into a shaky sprint to try and locate this annoyance. And end it. But your legs, they buckle under you like kindling wood. You tumble to the dusty and dry ground of the Kiln. Is this how it ends? So...simply? No clash in fire with a horrendous demon? No rain of bolts and arrows from distant snipers? Done in by a quiet mage and his magics?
You chuckle darkly. You slay the Lord of Cider only to fall to...this. Let it be done quickly then. But nothing comes. It's as deathly quiet in the Kiln as it ever was. But the light feeling continues to grow inside you. Just be done with it! That's what your mind screams over and over. You can feel your consciousness slipping away like grains of sand through your gloved fingers. Maybe...it won't be so bad. To sleep once more. That dour thought is the last you have as the darkness over takes you and the world before you fades away.
You gasp sharply as your eyes shoot open. You're not dead? At least you don't believe so. The state of your mortality was already a chore considering you were Undead. And while the state of your mortality may still be in question where you are isn't. You can tell from just a glance that where you are now is not the Kiln of the First Flame. You push yourself up slowly and get to your feet, albeit a tad wobbly. You begin taking in these new surrounding through the slit of you helmet. It was some type of forest you found yourself in. The Darkroot Basin? Perhaps the Garden? The dreary, oppressive atmosphere was accurate enough for either. Did the unseen mage send you here? For what purpose? You'd cut him down after you found him and forced the answers from him. Thoughts of revenge were cut short when you heard a low, hungry growl emanate from behind you. You spin on your heels readying both sword and shield as you did so. And before you...is a creature you can't even begin to describe. And when you consider the monstrosities you've seen in Lordran during your travels this is legitimately shocking.
The creature before you has the body of a powerful lion, but upon its back are the leathery wings of a bat. And its tail, it's something you can't truly classify. It's something insectoid, but unlike any other insect part you've ever encountered. In any case, whatever it was it looked terribly unfriendly and horribly sharp. The beast eyes you with ravenous hunger and bares its teeth. It was like a mouth full of daggers, glistening wet and tinted dirty pink. You reinforce the hold on the Crest Shield and tighten your grip on Astora's Straight Sword. Such a trusty sword, it has felled countless beasts and demons before. You would add this creature to the ever-growing body count. The monster in front of you roars a deafening cry and swipes at you with one of its massive, claw-baring paws. The blow connects with the Crest Shield, which absorbs the hit well. You quickly counter with a downwards slash, aiming for the alien creatures face. The slash finds its mark, and slices across the monsters eye. A torrent of blood follows, erupting from the wound. A howl of pain reverberates through you as the beast stumbles back and nurses its injury. It glares back to you. And now...it looked exceedingly angry.
It charges at you, bloody and howling. It makes no attempt at some paltry swipe, no, it intends to body slam you and crush the life out of you with its considerable bulk. You roll out of its path at the last moment, the hulking monster screaming past you. Instinctively you raise your shield and not a moment too soon. The bizarre tail of the creature rockets towards you, but thankfully is deflected to the side thanks to your quick reaction not a second ago. You slash at the tail and feel it carve into just slightly. It was surprisingly durable and a thick filthy yellow goo begins to seep from the cut. You bring your sword to your helmeted face and sniff the edge. The stench of poison fills your nostrils. Naturally. Impressive physical prowess wasn't enough, it was also poisonous. You flick the blade from the lingering droplets of poison and begin circling the beast, the beast itself doing the same. You look for any opening to exploit, any chance to strike and kill this...thing. The great beast charges at you once more and you prepare to roll away once again.
But the ferocious charge comes to a skidding halt right in front of you. It tricked you... In your moment of surprise the creature lashed out with its venomous tail. You try and bat the tail away but the attack finds its mark, somewhat. Immediately, you feel the bite of poison flood your body. But you recover quickly. And now your turn to surprise. You bash the Crest Shield against the monsters bloody face. A distraction, nothing more. You aim to end this now before the vile poison fells you. You push on with the offense. You slash and cleave and slice and thrust. The beast is unprepared for the assault. It tries to limp away, its face awashed in blood and its body scored with numerous stab and slicing wounds that leaked crimson and bile.
You pant and heave, the biting poison still pumping through your veins. You slowly stride after the monster, your sword casting a reddish shadow before you. You heft the blade overhead and drive it deep into the beasts back. It lets loose with another howl that slowly tapers off into a whimper until that to dies out. There's just silence now.
You sheathe your sword and rest your sword-arm. The biting, burning poison is still eating away at you. Carefully you slip the Bottomless Box out of you armor. No moss of any kind... Blight Town saw to that, it seems. You place the box back inside your armor and heave a heavy sigh. Perhaps the poison will run its course? When you drop to your knees and clutch at your chest those thoughts quickly dissipate. You fall to the forest floor, rolling to lie on your back. The sun is shining far above you... And it's has never looked brighter. Not from Firelink Shrine, not from Anor Londo, not from anywhere you can ever recall visiting. You wish you could continue to watch it some more, but the poison is surging into every organ. Your chest starts to softly rise and fall and your eyelids grow as heavy as black iron. But you hear something off in the distance.
"Oh my goodness!"
It's a sweet, dulcet tone. An angel coming to claim you? You struggle to lift you head from the ground to see your angel and see a...small, butter-yellow flying horse. Your head drops back down, confident in the fact that you're now wildly hallucinating. Again, inky blackness swamps your vision and you drift off to a peaceful eternity.