Chapter Twelve: Dreams
Roland slept, sat upright upon the floor in his room. The night was quiet and dark as the moon slowly faded from the sky, yet his sleep was a fitful one, far from restful. He muttered tainted words, groans of pain, and the cloak upon his back billowed in an invisible wind. It was the sort of sleep one might have if, perhaps, one dreamt of old, hurtful memories and shades of battle – whether with a physical enemy, or an index of one’s troubles.
Above him was a luminescent light, pale blue in regard and sheen. Somehow, curiosity emanated from the manifestation’s light, inching closer and closer to Roland’s scarred face. It whispered in ancient words, of duty and lunar virtue. The cold embrace of the moon enveloped Roland’s dreams, and Luna could see.
He held a goblet, of enameled gold and iridescent gem. Roland peered into its contents, and was met with a profuse layer of bubbling crimson. It smelled of tainted iron, rusted copper, and bore from within a budding fire. The crimson dripped down the sides of the goblet, leaving burns where it roiled.
It was blood. Hot, effervescent blood, baying to his heart like a lupine mother. The world around Roland was dark, yet before him was a fire – a sizzling fire that seemed to have been fueled by the fountain of blood from which he had lifted his share. In the shadows around him, crowds of pointed helms watched with careful eyes and wild grin. They were waiting.
No time to spare. With a single motion, Roland gulped down the blood, awaiting its fateful touch. Pain, burning pain, shot down Roland’s throat, and bubbled inside him. He doubled over, letting loose a savage snarl. His teeth glistened in the dark, the crimson settling into the nascent lengths of his canines.
A voice whispered into his ear. “You are our Brother now, Roland of Astora. Rise, that you may join our ranks.”
Nodding, Roland receded from the fountain and the fire, placing the goblet once more into the pool of blood. The Watchers behind him shifted in their spots, allowing for a new space between them. Roland took his position, bowing his head like his new family around him.
“Burns, doesn’t it?” A voice asked calmly, from his right. Roland made to turn, but the voice interrupted him. “Don’t bother turning. The Song will begin soon enough.”
“It does burn,” Roland responded, closing his eyes briefly. “We are brothers now, aren’t we? May I know your name?”
The voice spoke again, chuckling below its breath. “You may. I am Hawkwood. A native here in Farron. I already know your name.”
Roland made to reply, but Hawkwood interrupted him, clearing his throat. “Quiet now. The Acolytes are starting the Song.”
Somewhere in the darkness, a bell gonged, and a feminine voice began to sing. It was like a siren of legend, crying out into the gloom like a plea for salvation. Roland knew the Song – it was required, for the ritual; it was required to become an Abyss Watcher, the uppermost layer of the Undead Legion.
The Song progressed, and around him his brothers began to sing in harmony, accompanying the Acolyte in her melodic dirge. Roland sang with them, and the Abyss Watchers pronounced their sacred words, bound by blood and by duty. Their dogma would live on forever, in the hearts of those who fought the Abyss.
The Song eventually ended, the Acolyte’s voice fading - a mournful hymn on the night wind, calling for a purpose, and redemption from the curse. The Abyss Watchers stood in their places, holding their blades upwards in their infamous Etiquette. Roland mirrored them, his heart proud that he had found his own onus, his sacred calling. He smiled, his grin wicked and his teeth lupine.
The Wolf’s Blood had sealed his fate.
The dream had ended, and above Roland’s body the luminescent light shone with a sense of half-faded satisfaction, and unending curiosity. It floated away in the night, eager to fulfill its duty amongst other hosts. It was Luna’s nightly vocation, after all, to tend to the dreams of her subjects.
Yet, behind her, the tendrils upon Roland’s cloak sizzled in a serpentine fashion, slowly crawling over the Undead’s body.
It was late the next day, when I had realized something significant.
The slow, unending creep of boredom had reached me, and I found little to do in the castle that entertained me. Luna was, unfortunately enough, entangled in some manner of conversation with her sister, and would likely be unavailable for some time. I had, furthermore, promised myself to let loose on the training, for there was only a finite number of courtyards I could ruin in good faith.
Thoughts on how to banish my boredom wandered all over my mind, each a varying degree of insanity or monotony. It crossed my mind to visit Lily, perhaps, but I figured that she would be hard at work, serving the needs of the castle and its courtiers.
And so, the day had gone by, in which I had done nothing but wander. There were only so many days I could spend at the archives before going mad, and there were only so many stories of Equestria’s past before I tired of them. I would need to save the stories for later. Yet, it occurred to me that I had not once left the Sun and Moon districts of Canterlot at all. I had learned from Luna that the capital city of Equestria was divided into four distinct districts, all with their own unique properties and characteristics.
The Sun District, where I spent the majority of the time, was the region in which the castle and its grounds were. At the very top, the palace shone like a magnificent jewel upon the blue sky, towering above the rest of the mountain like a good father. At its base was the Crown District, where the “crème de la crop,” as Luna had once called them in the Prench tongue, resided – high-necked, blue-blooded noble aristocrats who sought to sustain themselves within the highest circles of Equestrian life.
Somewhere high, between the Sun and Crown Districts, was the Moon District – a place of learning and scholarly education, and the home of the Canterlot Archives. Its name reflected the personae best known of Princess Luna in ancient times – knowledge and academia were of the highest importance, and Luna had, allegedly, been a keen patron of the arts and education in the days of Equestrian yore. That, and her supposed prowess in martial skill and military strategy.
Canterlot’s final, and lowermost district, was the Jewel District. Contrary to its name, the Jewel District was a place for the lowest classes of Canterlot society – craftsmen, traders, industrial workers, and the lot. Luna had told me that the Jewel District had once been the center of the Canterlot mining industry, and bore direct access to the extensive, yet defunct, cave systems layered beneath the city like a spider’s labyrinthine web.
Allegedly, one of the best “taverns” was established in the Jewel District, meant to serve workers and laborers with unending platters of food. “Donut Joe’s,” she had called it. Luna had said that, many a night, she and her sister would visit the commoner’s den. In disguise, of course.
Joe. What an odd name.
Yet, I digressed. I had kept myself locked, figuratively, within the Sun and Moon Districts, yet curiosity frenzied within me like a trapped crow. I wanted to see the supposed normality of Canterlot life, and I wanted to observe how the common pony might live.
I desperately wanted, if only for a moment, some sense of normalcy and banality – to long had I lived through extraordinary circumstance, and under the constant fear of hollowing and the Abyss.
Thus, my boredom.
Late that night, I found myself creeping through the dim streets of the Crown District. The sun had fallen long before, and the city was bathed in shadows and gloom. The occasional lamppost provided some sources of light, but for the most part, I could not see far in the everlasting darkness.
That was, however, not to say that the city was dead – by no means was it, not at all. Every building along the streets was full of light within, the voices of crowds of ponies audible throughout every corner of the city. Their conversations ranged from topic to topic, much of which I was ignorant to, yet found interesting enough.
It was clear the city itself was a breathing heart, the calm breaths and eager tones of every one of its citizens the air that gave the capital life. It was a phenomenon I was wholly unaccustomed to – something that I only now realized I had missed.
My younger days, fraught with life and youth in the grand city of Astora and its surrounding communes, had been a long, long time ago.
I was sitting, now, atop a particular house’s roof, gazing down upon the cobbled streets of Canterlot. Looking down, I spotted a troupe of mares, dressed in a most fashionable manner as they roamed the road. Walking along the roof, I listened to what they were saying.
“The night has been a bit friendlier, now that you mention it. Why, I haven’t had a real nightmare since several months ago!”
“Yes, that is what Madame Brightlight was saying as well! I do wonder why this has been the case.”
“Oh, I’d wager it’s because of that Alicorn,” a third said, throwing her head back. “What’s her name again? The Princess’s sister?”
“Luna.”
“Yes, her. Oh, I’ve heard so many rumors about that one. Always so secretive, hiding in the dark they say. Why, I’ve found that only one of the houses has had the stones to send envoys to her night court, and they’ve had some juicy things to say, about that.”
“What sorts of things?”
“Yes, yes! Tell us! Oh, I’m sure dear Goldhollow will be delighted to hear this sort of gossip.”
“Fine, fine, if you insist… I hear that the younger princess has taken a pet, of sorts – a strange creature, all dark and mysterious. The dam of House Yellowtone herself has received word from a palace guard, that Luna and her pet have retreated to her quarters alone – Celestia knows what they’re doing in her room.”
I ceased my eavesdropping, not at all eager to hear any more of their chatter. I was more than a bit disturbed, and I found within me a want to find this chinwag of a guard and report him to Luna.
Yet, in that instant, I realized that there was something of even more importance, within the streets of Canterlot.
I smelled it.
Reeking, rotting. Hidden in some corner, in some tomb underneath the streets, like a decrepit foundation of man.
I smelled the putrid flesh of a hollow, deep within the city. Worry took me, then, and like an alert watch-dog I rose from my perch and sniffed the air.
Somewhere, deep within the recesses of the city, was a hollow. An undead.
There it was, deep within the filth of the Jewel District.
Buried beneath mounds of dirt and rotten fish.
The helm upon its head coned, pointed.
The sabre within its hands so familiar, so foul.
A Follower of Farron had arrived in Equestria, by means unknown.
Yet, its scent was strong, its undeath only recent.
Had it come upon my footsteps? Were there more, hiding in the shadows to leap upon me?
The dreadful implications were unpleasant, and I pulled up the sleeves of my armor, my hands shaking. My eyes wandered upon my own flesh, searching for any hint of the dark gone wild – a seething pus.
I found none, yet deep in my heart, I knew fear.
Not for the hunt, but for my own sanity.
Stats
Page generated in 0.02 seconds
Total duration
1,101 users online
1,923,834 hits today, 2,561,572 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
… Well, shit. A lost one has finally found its way to this new realm. Now, the Watcher of the Abyss, the last of his kind, must do something about it. Hollows do not die. They cannot, and will not. Not until the First Flame is linked again. But there is no First Flame in this realm…
Oh by god.
Dlc content!
Did you enjoy the dlc?
7705249 I did, yeah. The optional boss was a bit average, compared to the final boss, but I enjoyed both fights, and the areas between them, immensely.
PvP arena is going to extend the lifetime of this game by a lot. I'm really enjoying it.
What about you?
7705272 This is a grand display of creativity, my friend! I do so pity those Watchers, though. Were there more booze in the universe of Dark Souls, I wonder if it would have been a more cheery place...
7705272 yes i did enjoy it i love my crow talons and my fredes greatscyth also valor heart i hate the great wolf thou Akamaru confirmed in dark souls 3 lol yeah it was fun but too short
Snrk... What? That line was funny.
Also, oh boy, something from Ariandel's painting leaked out. Nothing good can come from this!
Well played good sir, well played indeed.
7705899 I'd have to respectfully disagree with your statement there.
We've barely seen an inkling as to how to Watchers truly were - only speckles of lore from item descriptions, and the sight of a Legion gone mad. Were they truly an order gone wild and savage, or were they that way from the beginning?
I'd much rather portray them to be a dark and mysterious "band of brothers," to be honest, than simply a pack of wild animals driven only by a singular goal. Sure, we saw them cutting down their own, but I'd like to think that they wouldn't have done that until they had gone mad due to the Linking of the Fire. Putting down those Watchers consumed by the Abyss would have been in the Followers' job, in a respectful and dignified manner - as explained by lore given within the new DLC.
Otherwise, Roland is his own character, with his own traits, personalities, and feelings on the matter. I'd disagree that he's acting like a child, but he's taking to this new world in his own way. Had I written the story from Hawkwood's perspective, as I had once contemplated, it would be much drearier and bleak, despite Equestria's own brightness - and had I written it from the point of view of a particularly bloodthirsty Watcher, whose only deal in Undeath was destroying the Abyss, then... really, it wouldn't be very fun. For me, at least.
I appreciate your criticism, anyhow. To each their own, and I respect your feelings on the matter. I disagree, though, but it's always good to get some debate in and be able to look in on your work from under another person's microscope. So, thank you.
I see someone has been doing his research ever since the DLC came out.
I love your take on them very much.
The only part on which I personally disagree on is Hawkwood. I believe he never drunk the Blood of the Wolf and thus failed to Link the Fire together with the Abyss Watchers. Or more so, he was still in training to become a fully-fledged Abyss Watcher. In the end, he thus failed his task as one of the Undead and became Ash as the Fire consumed him whole.
Or at least, this is my take on it.
What I love most about Dark Souls is that everyone has their own idea of canon.
Its interesting to see how you interpret it all.
7705272 I really need to explore Ariendel, but not only have I not been through Lothric's Castle yet, but I also have not focused on leveling up much. I would need to focus into this before I started my new adventure. But its nice to hear about the DLC and how pleasing it is.
This story has passed a review by Equus Library.