Eraqus regarded the peculiar figure standing before him with a sharp, analytical gaze, scrutinizing every subtle movement for any sign of threat or hostility. Yet if Yoel harbored any ill intentions, he was masterfully concealing them beneath a calm exterior.
"No," Eraqus said firmly, breaking the silence, "Speak your mind. And my name is Eraqus, not 'Shining One.'" His posture remained steady, though his wariness did not wane. Yoel's composed demeanor suggested sanity, but that did little to reveal his true intentions
"Eraqus, is it?" Yoel mused, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "A peculiar name, indeed. But set aside your anxieties, for I am not your enemy—merely a curious observer seeking to pose a question."
"Then ask your question quickly," Eraqus replied, his tone growing impatient. "I have little time for riddles—I have matters to attend to."
"I imagine so," Yoel chuckled softly, as if entertained by the master's urgency. "Your haste to be crushed by the Watchdog once more is evident. But let us leave such trivialities aside for now. Tell me, what is your opinion of this world?"
Eraqus fell silent, pondering Yoel's words as he leaned forward, contemplating the enormity of the question. The world he inhabited was a hostile place, teetering on the brink of ruin. Darkness loomed, threatening to swallow what little remained, yet amidst the decay, there were still those who strove to do good, to survive with honor.
"This world is in ruins," Eraqus finally answered, his voice firm but tinged with sorrow. "It stands on the precipice of collapse, its flame all but extinguished. And yet, within its people, there are still traces of light—of hope—that suggest salvation is possible, however distant."
Yoel tilted his head, scratching at his chin, though the gesture was obscured by the shadow of his hood. He seemed to mull over the response, his eyes scanning the empty surroundings.
"Your answer is unsurprising," Yoel said, a faint smile curling at his lips. "Given the light that radiates from you, I expected no less. But I wonder, will that light continue to shine in the face of the horrors you are yet to encounter? Tell me, Eraqus—what are your thoughts on light and darkness?"
This time, Eraqus did not hesitate. He spoke swiftly, conviction shaping his words.
"Light is pure. It is the source of all that is good, a beacon that guides us to fight for what is just. It shines within our hearts, and it is through the light that we find strength and purpose. Darkness, on the other hand, consumes. It corrupts and destroys, twisting the hearts of those who fall into its embrace, leaving them irredeemable."
Eraqus's expression darkened as he spoke, but Yoel only sighed, shaking his head in quiet disappointment.
"Perhaps I was mistaken in my assumptions," Yoel murmured, almost to himself. "One last question, then."
"What is the point of this conversation?" Eraqus interjected, suspicion creeping into his voice. "What do you want from me?"
Yoel raised a hand in a gesture of reassurance. "Nothing but to satisfy my curiosity. I have never encountered one such as you. I promise this will be my final question. And if we meet again, it will be by chance, not design."
Eraqus nodded reluctantly. "Ask, then."
Yoel's voice dropped to a low, almost conspiratorial tone as he leaned forward. "What if I told you that it is not darkness but light that is responsible for the world's current state? That it is the light which has led us to this suffering?"
Eraqus's eyes narrowed, anger flickering across his face. The notion was abhorrent, a twisted lie meant to discredit everything he believed in. He gripped his sword tighter, fighting back the urge to strike.
"Then I would say you are a liar," he replied coldly.
Yoel's smile did not fade. "But what if it were not a lie? What if the very light you hold so dear has caused the world's descent into chaos?"
Eraqus shook his head, his anger now tempered by resolve. "No matter how many times you say it, I will never believe such slander. The light has guided us for eons—it could never be the source of our suffering."
"Hm… Forget my words, then," Yoel said softly, a trace of sadness in his tone. "Perhaps they are merely the ramblings of a dying old man." He slammed his staff into the ground, causing a radiant circle of light to flare up around him.
"Wait!" Eraqus shouted, extending his hand as if to stop the strange figure. "I have my own questions!"
But Yoel shook his head. "I am but a pilgrim, a sorcerer in search of a champion. And it seems I will not find one here. We may meet again, but until that day, I advise you—open your eyes to the truth of this world."
With those final words, Yoel vanished, his form dissolving into the radiant light. Eraqus stood motionless on the empty staircase, his hand slowly lowering as he scanned his surroundings. The distant sound of monsters echoed in the air, but Yoel did not return.
Alone, Eraqus remained still, his thoughts swirling in the wake of the enigmatic encounter.
-XXXXXX-
Eraqus stepped out of the shrine's bonfire, his eyes adjusting to the dim glow of the Firelink Shrine. The familiar, hollowed faces of its inhabitants greeted him as he passed, each offering a nod of acknowledgment. He responded in kind, but his focus was singular as he made his way toward the Fire Keeper, the quiet overseer of the flames.
"Greetings, Ashen One," the Fire Keeper said softly as he approached. Her voice was gentle, laced with the warmth of familiarity. "I see your return to the High Wall has been fruitful. Do you seek the power of souls?"
Eraqus met her gaze, her pale eyes hidden behind the cloth covering her face. He nodded, her question one he had anticipated. "Correct," he replied. "What must I do to acquire such power?"
"Very well," she said, her tone taking on a solemn quality. "Then touch the darkness within me, and feed upon these sovereignless souls."
She extended her hand toward him, offering it as a vessel to channel the power he sought. Her words, though sincere, carried an unintended double meaning that made the corners of Eraqus's scarred face twitch, a faint smirk threatening to break through. He stifled the reaction, pushing the thought aside. Now was not the time for levity.
He grasped her hand, noting the faint burns marring her skin, evidence of the fire's toll. There was an ethereal quality to her touch, as though she existed somewhere between the physical and the metaphysical, between life and the void.
"Let these souls, drawn from their vessels," she intoned, her voice steady, "manifestations of disparity elucidated by fire, bury themselves deep within me. Retreating into a darkness beyond the reach of flame, let them take a new master, dwelling in ashes, casting themselves into new forms."
As the ritual began, Eraqus felt a familiar discomfort creep over him. The Fire Keeper's repeated invocations of 'darkness' unsettled him, though he knew these words were part of an ancient rite. Despite the unease, he focused on the sensation building within him—the souls he'd gathered stirring, shifting within his very essence.
It was brief, yet powerful. In a flash, the souls merged into his being, and when it was over, Eraqus felt the undeniable surge of strength coursing through him. The Fire Keeper released his hand, and he stood still for a moment, letting the newfound power settle.
"It is done," the Keeper said, her voice returning to its soft, almost maternal tone. "I hope I was of use to you, Ashen One."
Eraqus gave a curt nod in response, his mind still preoccupied. He stared down at his hand, flexing his fingers as he pondered the weight of his actions. The acquisition of power, the merging of souls—it was not without consequence. Each soul carried a story, a life lost to the flame. And now, those remnants had become part of him, a tool for his own purpose.
But at what cost?
With a final glance at the Fire Keeper, he turned away, contemplating what lay ahead as the journey was far from over.
-XXXXXX-
Continuing his journey, Eraqus upgraded his equipment and approached the looming fog gate leading to Vordt, the formidable knight of the Boreal Valley he's heard whispers about. However, something bright caught his eye, a luminous inscription glowing faintly at the corner of his vision.
Curious, he stepped toward the inscription, noticing an unexpected glow emanating from within his bottomless box. Eraqus rummaged through it until he pulled out the small stone the Shrine Handmaid had given him. As he held it, the light intensified, and before him, the ethereal image of a hollow he had once faced in the shrine began to form—but now, the figure appeared human.
Eraqus extended a tentative hand toward the apparition but recoiled when the being vanished, only to emerge from a glowing circle on the ground. This time, the hollow materialized into a solid, ghostly form.
"Was this the help the Handmaid spoke of?" He wondered out loud. "Could this enemy now be an ally?"
His suspicions were confirmed as the summoned figure bowed respectfully. Eraqus returned the gesture with a nod, and together, they approached the fog gate.
Crossing into the great chamber, they were greeted by Vordt, the maddened knight waiting on the other side. Without hesitation, Vordt charged forward, slamming his mace into the ground with a deafening thud. Roaring in fury, he closed the distance between them.
Eraqus and the summon reacted instinctively, leaping in opposite directions, their swords slicing across the massive knight's sides. Eraqus marveled at the speed of his movements, the strength behind his blows—the power of the souls he'd absorbed coursing through him. Yet his thoughts were short-lived as Vordt spun violently, dragging his mace along the ground in a sweeping arc. Eraqus narrowly dodged the attack, stepping back as the summon capitalized on the opening, landing a precise strike.
The knight's blood splattered across the floor with each cut, but the assault was cut short when Vordt delivered a crushing headbutt, sending the summon flying.
"Fire!"
Eraqus shouted, conjuring a fireball and hurling it directly at Vordt's helmet. The impact was enough to stun the knight, allowing Eraqus to lunge forward, driving his sword through the narrow opening of Vordt's eye slit. A monstrous roar erupted from the knight as blood gushed from the wound, blinding him in one eye.
Blinded but not defeated, Vordt smashed his mace into the ground in a frenzy, the force of the blow sending Eraqus flying across the chamber. Despite the pain, the damage was less severe than their last encounter, a testament to Eraqus's newfound strength. Regrouping with his summoned ally, they steeled themselves as Vordt prepared his next onslaught.
The knight's immense size now became his greatest vulnerability. With each wild swing, he left himself open to attacks from one side, as Eraqus and the summon took turns delivering calculated strikes. Vordt roared in frustration, raising his mace to crush the summon, but the spectral ally slipped away just in time, as another fireball from Eraqus struck the knight's back.
Vordt, now desperate, inhaled deeply, summoning the icy mist that coated the chamber in frost. Recognizing the deadly attack, Eraqus yelled for the summon to evade. His fire spell collided with the icy fog, creating a cloud of steam, but it was only a momentary distraction. The ground shook beneath their feet as Vordt charged once more.
Eraqus raised his shield, knowing he wouldn't dodge in time. The knight's massive form grazed both him and the summon, sending a jolt of pain through their bodies. Gritting his teeth, Eraqus felt his arm break, but he did not reach for his Estus Flask just yet. They still had one more charge to survive.
As Vordt prepared for his final attack, the summon, resolute and silent, stood firm with his sword raised. Eraqus shouted in confusion, wondering what his ally was planning, but received no answer. Clicking his tongue in frustration, Eraqus hurled fire spells to halt the knight's advance.
The knight barreled forward, shrugging off the attacks, only to be met by the summon's blade at the last moment. With a precise strike, the summon severed Vordt's remaining eye, causing the knight to skid across the chamber floor. The loss of his sight threw Vordt into disarray, his body crashing into the chamber walls as sparks and rubble flew in all directions.
Vordt, disoriented and weakened, struggled to rise, his blows growing wild and erratic. Eraqus seized the opportunity to drink from his flask, feeling his strength return as he gripped his sword tightly. Side by side, he and the summon approached cautiously, their swords at the ready.
Vordt, sensing their approach, inhaled again, preparing to unleash his icy mist—but it was too late. Two blades pierced through the openings in his armor at his neck. Blood gushed in torrents as the knight's body convulsed in a final struggle before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
The chamber fell silent as Vordt's form dissolved into a shower of souls, all absorbed by Eraqus. One soul in particular stood out from the rest, radiating an intense glow. Both warriors exchanged respectful bows, acknowledging each other's strength before the summon faded into the ether, leaving Eraqus alone in the vast chamber.
With the first major obstacle now defeated, Eraqus lit the bonfire that appeared at the center of the room. Exhaustion and relief washed over him as he surveyed the chamber, reflecting on all he had encountered—his foes, his allies, and the strange events unfolding around him.
Approaching the large gate at the far end, Eraqus grunted as he pushed against the heavy doors. When they finally opened, sunlight streamed in, but confusion settled over him as he found not a path, but a sheer cliff before him. Emma's words rang in his ears, and he quickly retrieved the Banner of Lothric from his box, planting it into the ground as instructed.
His heart raced when three winged creatures with pale skin and ghastly grins descended from the sky, crawling up the cliffside toward him. Instinctively, Eraqus reached for his blade, but the creatures moved too fast, seizing him by the arms and torso.
Panic surged through him as they lifted him into the air. He struggled and screamed, but their grip only tightened. One of the creatures screeched in his face, its piercing wail rattling his skull. Then, it pointed toward the distant settlement.
"So, this is their intent." Eraqus realized as he relaxed in their grasp, allowing them to ferry him across the dark forests and ancient ruins below. They weaved through flocks of crows, soaring through the sky until they landed on the watchtower gate of a large bridge.
With an unceremonious drop, the creatures released him and flew away without a word. Eraqus stood, dusting himself off, trying to comprehend the strange beings. Grateful for the assistance, he lit the fire beside him and scanned the surroundings.
Before him stood the Undead Settlement—a decaying structure of wood and stone, filled with new dangers. He descended the watchtower stairs cautiously, his mind already steeling for the challenges that lay ahead.
At the bottom, a commotion drew his attention. In the distance, he spotted a group of beings that resembled Yoel, prostrating themselves at the edge of a crumbling bridge.
"Please, grant us death, release our shackles!"
Confusion took hold of Eraqus as he approached, hearing their desperate pleas for death. Why would they beg for such a fate?
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. "Well, we meet again, Sir Eraqus."
Turning, he saw one of the beings, standing where the others knelt. Despite their similar appearances, Eraqus recognized him immediately.
"Yoel?" he asked.
"Correct," Yoel replied with a light laugh. "I am glad to see you remember me."
Eraqus glanced around at the broken, despairing pilgrims. "Why are these people begging for death?"
"Because it is all we have left," Yoel said solemnly. "We are pilgrims, but somehow, we failed to perish as we were commanded. Now we are cursed to wander this dying world, with no escape but death."
Eraqus frowned. "Is there nothing that can be done?"
Yoel shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Some believe we may become angels, but until then, we are shackled to this world as it slowly fades."
"I will rekindle the First Flame," Eraqus said with determination. "I will stop this curse."
Yoel sighed. "Would that truly end our suffering, or merely delay it? This is not the first time the flame has weakened, nor will it be the last. There must be another way—a way beyond this endless cycle of light and darkness."
Eraqus stared at Yoel, frustration bubbling within him. "Why do you speak in riddles?"
"It is not riddles, but truth," Yoel replied. "Seek out the history of this land, and perhaps you will come to understand."
Eraqus clenched his fists, weary of cryptic answers. With a final farewell, he turned toward the settlement. His path was clear, but doubt lingered in his mind. What other secrets did this world hold? Could he truly bring salvation?
Only time would tell, and until then, Eraqus would fulfill the promises he made, one step at a time.
END OF CHAPTER