Eraqus pushed open the massive, ornately decorated double doors before him. The effort caused a grunt to escape his lips as the doors, burdened by their age and rusty hinges, resisted movement. Dust cascaded down onto his black hair as the doors, with a thunderous crack, finally swung wide open, revealing a desolate road flanked by roots and gray ruins—a sight that had become all too familiar to the master.
Surveying his surroundings, Eraqus took note of a large stone building at the end of the road, perched atop a gentle rise. With no alternative in sight, he hoisted the spiral sword he had acquired earlier and strode purposefully toward the building.
Ascending the dilapidated steps amidst tombstones and dead roots, Eraqus encountered more of the hostile beings shrouded in rags. However, his newfound weapon proved swift and precise, dispatching the adversaries with ease.
Upon reaching the building's entrance, Eraqus readied his sword, sharpening his senses as he cautiously proceeded down a short stone corridor.
A fleeting tremor of surprise crossed Eraqus' otherwise serious expression as he took in the chamber that sprawled before him—a large circular space dominated by five colossal stone thrones encircled by flickering candles casting dim light. Yet, only four thrones remained unoccupied, and the occupant of the fifth throne, sensing the newcomer's presence, turned his gaze toward Eraqus.
"Oh, it appears we have a newcomer gracing our humble shrine," remarked the throne's occupant, affecting a tone of feigned surprise, his head resting in his hands as he studied Eraqus.
The utterance caught the attention of the others present—a knight with a lowered head seated on steps and a figure cloaked entirely in black.
While the cloaked figure retreated indifferently, the knight regarded Eraqus with evident curiosity, despite his aura of despondency indicating past battles.
Eraqus lowered his sword, taking stock of the chamber's inhabitants with a discerning gaze. The aged figure on the throne posed no immediate threat, and the shadowy figure appeared disinterested in the newcomer.
It was the knight, armored and wielding a substantial blade, who presented the greatest potential threat. Despite his melancholic demeanor, Eraqus discerned a wealth of combat experience within him.
Thus, the Keyblade Master advanced toward the knight, hoping to glean insights. Along the way, he noticed a focal point in the chamber—a wrecked vessel surrounded by heaps of ash.
"Greetings, sir. My name is Eraqus. Might I impose upon you for answers to a few inquiries?" Eraqus spoke with a polite bow.
"Ahhh, another awoken from the deathly slumber? You're not alone in your plight. We, the Unkindled, are but hollow shells—unable even to perish properly. It vexes me so," the knight responded mockingly, a smile playing upon his lips as if expecting Eraqus to understand these cryptic statements.
Eraqus stepped back while raising an eyebrow. 'Is this knight confusing me with someone, or has he succumbed to madness?' Eraqus wondered silently.
Clearing his throat and composing himself, Eraqus attempted once more to elicit answers. "I apologize, but I'm uncertain of your meaning. Sleep of death? Unkindled? Lords of Cinder? Could you elucidate?"
The knight's countenance contorted with a blend of annoyance and exasperation. "Your memories consumed so swiftly upon your awakening? I had hoped for a kindred spirit. Alas, we are all adrift in oblivion," the knight sighed in disappointment, reverting to his earlier demeanor.
"Such an unconventional introduction. Perhaps adopting a modicum of politeness would yield more fruitful discourse," remarked the figure seated on the throne, casting a reproving glance at the knight.
"Don't lecture me. Do you grasp how many have arrived before us? They came, they fought, they perished. If the great heroes of yore couldn't achieve our task, what hope have we?" the knight retorted sarcastically, gesturing toward the surrounding ruins.
"Humph! At least they endeavored, unlike a certain individual who wallows in self-pity," the throne's occupant retorted, the barb directed pointedly.
The knight's gaze oscillated between the figure on the throne and Eraqus, who remained bemused by the exchange.
"Come closer, newcomer. I have queries of my own, and I'll reciprocate with answers to your questions," the figure on the throne beckoned, signaling Eraqus to approach.
Eraqus cast a final glance at the crestfallen knight, anticipating a protest that never materialized. He then approached the figure on the throne with measured steps, his eyes widening slightly as he noted the figure's missing lower half, a curious semblance of life still lingering.
"You can lower your weapon and dispel that look of suspicion. I mean you no harm; besides, I'm hardly in a position to move," the figure on the throne reassured, lightly tapping the area above the severed portion.
"Forgive my cautiousness, but my initial reception in these lands was less than hospitable. I've been beset since my awakening," Eraqus replied, sheathing his sword and adopting a more relaxed stance.
"We all have. Your predicament is not unique. However, enough preamble; let us delve into matters. I am Ludleth of Courland. Do not be perturbed by my appearance; I once kindled the flame, assuming the mantle of a Lord of Cinder. But if your earlier inquiries were genuine, you are unacquainted with our predicament," Ludleth introduced himself regally, leaning back in his throne and awaiting Eraqus' response.
Acknowledging the need for reciprocity, Eraqus cleared his throat before speaking. "Allow me to reciprocate: I am Eraqus, simply Eraqus. I awakened in these lands recently, under... unusual circumstances. However, I am unfamiliar with this realm and seek a means to return to my own."
"You find yourself in the kingdom of Lothric, Eraqus. A realm teetering on collapse as resurrected Lords of Cinder converge upon it. Tell me, do memories of your past persist?" Ludleth inquired, curiosity flickering in his gaze.
"Yes, my memories remain intact. Why do you ask?" Eraqus queried, his suspicion piqued.
"You've started more lucidly than most. Do you comprehend your current state?" Ludleth's gaze bore into Eraqus.
"...No, where are you leading with this?" Eraqus' voice betrayed a tinge of apprehension.
"You, Eraqus, are Unkindled—a being resurrected from ash, a shade lesser than an undead, reanimated to vanquish the Lords of Cinder, much like yourself, who shirked their duty to kindle the First Flame," Ludleth declared, pointing a finger directly at the Keyblade wielder.
Eraqus staggered back at the revelation, myriad thoughts racing through his mind. However, he quickly regained composure, shaking his head in denial. "You speak madness! Have I truly become what you call Unkindled? I'm alive, flesh and blood!"
Ludleth chuckled, amused by Eraqus' disbelief. "Is that so? Do you feel your heart's beat? The air filling your lungs? Hunger, thirst, or any sensation beyond the most rudimentary?"
Eraqus hesitated, then cautiously placed a hand over his wrist, fearing what he might discover. An indescribable expression crossed his face as he detected the absence of something vital. Next, he covered his nose, noting the absence of breath.
It dawned on Eraqus that despite his recent battles, hunger and thirst had not plagued him. When his legs threatened to give way, he leaned on his sword for support, averting a fall.
"What has happened to me? Explain!" Eraqus demanded, staring at his trembling hands.
"You, my friend, have been cursed—an undead condemned to wander until memories fade, leaving you hollow, or until permanent demise claims you. Search for a mark—a dark sigil surrounded by flames—it is proof of your curse. This is why you are at Firelink Shrine," Ludleth elucidated calmly, unperturbed by Eraqus' distress.
"I didn't ask for this! I don't belong here!" Eraqus' voice wavered with frustration.
"You have no choice. Slay the Lords or wither into nothingness. Acceptance is your only recourse," Ludleth stated matter-of-factly.
"I... need time to process this," Eraqus murmured, stepping away with faltering steps.
"Take all the time you require, but beware the solitude. For a cursed undead, isolation breeds peril. Oh, and your sword is of no use here; place it within the central vessel," Ludleth directed, indicating the shattered vessel in the chamber's heart.
Eraqus eyed Ludleth warily but complied, plunging his sword into the vessel. Flames erupted, transforming the shrine into a bonfire akin to the one he had encountered earlier.
"Go now. Familiarize yourself with the shrine's inhabitants. Should you need me, I shall be here," Ludleth bid Eraqus farewell.
Eraqus nodded numbly at Ludleth's words and chose a random passage of the shrine without paying attention, his mind focused on the recent revelations as he wandered down the pathway.
'First Flame? Lords of Cinder? Kingdom of Lothric? I am certainly in another world, and an unknown one. However, if what Ludleth said is true, then I died in the fight against Terra when Xehanort struck me down. What brought me to this world?'
'I need to find out what is going on. I need to return to Terra, Ventus, and Aqua. Maybe... Maybe I should do what Ludleth suggested.'
During his walk through the halls of the shrine, Eraqus encountered a hunched old woman wearing red robes, sitting on a wooden chair surrounded by bags and boxes, and staring at him curiously.
"Good day, madam. My name is Eraqus." The Keyblade master spoke disconcerted, doing his best to keep the shock of what he just learn out of his tone of voice.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Unkindled one. I am just a humble handmaid of the shrine. Weapons, armor, trinkets, and spells... I have many things to ease the burden of a weary traveler. ...And yes, I am also undead, but I am not so charitable as to give away my possessions. Unkindled, seek souls and bring them to me. As is your habit, right?" The handmaid responded in an oddly happy tone.
Eraqus stared at the old woman, praying to Kingdom Hearts that he didn't hear what he just heard.
"I'm sorry; I don't think I heard you properly. Did you say souls?" Eraqus spoke, approaching the old woman, praying he misheard.
"Oh, look at me, acting like all the undead know what to do as soon as they come out of their graves. You fought your way to the shrine, didn't you? You must have seen the spheres of blue light entering your body after killing each enemy; these are the souls, absorbed by your body thanks to the curse mark. Souls become the most valuable currency every time the undead curse returns; they can be used in trade or to strengthen oneself, although I am too old to perform this art." The handmaid explained as if she was talking to a child.
Eraqus assumed an impassive face, but he mentally wondered what kind of twisted world he found himself in.
"And how do I use these 'souls'?"
"Stretch out your hand, I'll show you how it's done." The handmaid huffed in laughter in amusement.
Eraqus nodded slowly and cautiously held out his hand, allowing the handmaid to hold it, and waited for instructions.
"I need you to concentrate and feel the souls running through your body, this is something natural for the undead like us."
Eraqus did as the handmaid said and closed his eyes in concentration, searching for something different. There was something unfamiliar present in his being; it was not his magic, heart, or Keyblade, but something completely different.
When Eraqus opened his eyes, he saw a luminous mass floating above his palm.
"Hehehe, you learn quickly! Would you like to buy something now that you know how to summon souls?" The handmaid asked, letting go of Eraqus' hand.
The master raised his hand in front of his face, observing the sphere of souls with curiosity, admiration, and some disgust, as he held something vital and sacred to most living beings.
These souls should have gone on to the Final World, not remained with the Keyblade master.
"Hm... I am in severe need of weapons, do you have any?"
"Of course, look around and maybe you'll find something that interests you." The handmaid responded, waving at the bags and boxes surrounding her.
Eraqus nodded in response and browsed through the various products. Some time passed, and Eraqus contented himself with a Scimitar and a Scarlet Parma.
Then the master concentrated again, channeling the souls into his hand and paying the necessary amount of souls to the handmaid.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you. Visit old Andre if you need your weapons upgraded." The handmaid suggested, pointing to the end of the hall.
"I understand. I thank you for what you taught me, and for the equipment." Eraqus replied stiffly, bowing politely.
"Stop it, you make me blush. Oh, before you go, I have a gift for you." The handmaid spoke, offering a type of white stone.
"What is that?" Eraqus asked, analyzing the stone.
"White soapstone. Use it if you need help, or want to help someone. You can take it." The handmaid responded.
Eraqus accepted the stone and said goodbye to the handmaid, walking deeper into the dark corridor, and listening to a repetitive metallic sound echoing in the distance.
Eraqus followed the noise until he found himself in a chamber with a tall, muscular old man with a long beard and wearing a blacksmith's attire, bent over an anvil and forging a sword.
The sound of Eraqus' footsteps captured the blacksmith's attention, so he stopped his work shortly to greet the newcomer,
"Well, a newcomer, I see. My name is Andre and I serve in this shrine as a humble blacksmith who forges new weapons. You are looking for the Lords of Cinder, I assume. A tiring trip, I bet. You will need good weapons. Let me forge your weapons. I am a blacksmith, such is my aim." Andre spoke happily, though one can hear his age.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Andre, my name is Eraqus. I am just exploring the shrine and knowing its inhabitants. Unfortunately, I do not need your services right now." Eraqus responded politely, walking through the forge and analyzing the weapons.
"A shame, but I can't do anything about it." Andre said disappointed.
"Don't be like that. What can you tell me about the weapons and armor?" Eraqus asked, closely watching the smiting work of a spear.
"Weapons and armor are, in general, quite resistant. However, when used excessively, they end up breaking. When its durability is low, repair becomes a necessity. Use a powder, or simply rest by a fire. Nevertheless, if chance breaks them, bring them to me. I will hammer them to get them into shape. They take no pleasure in breaking, I assure you. So handle them with care if you like."
"Of course, I don't plan on breaking my equipment anytime soon, as I just bought it. What else can you tell me?" Eraqus asked, smiling slightly at Andre's lesson, as the old blacksmith reminded him of his grandfather when he trained him.
"There are two ways to forge weapons. One is the reinforcement, and the other is the infusion. Reinforcement is simple. Strengthens a weapon without changing its properties. Infusion is a more advanced form of forging that infuses an element. Strengthening requires titanite, and infusion requires gems. Bring the stones and I will do the blacksmith work. It is my goal, after all! In battle, your weapons are your only friends. Forge them well, and they will not let you down."
"Thanks for the information Andre, but I believe I stayed here long enough. I need to move on with my search." Eraqus replied, saying goodbye to the blacksmith.
"Oh, one last thing before you go, if you find some Estus shards bring them here. They can be used to reinforce any of your Estus Flasks. Without these flasks, you would have no health. And they will always stay with you, why not treat them well?"
"Estus Flasks? These flasks, you mean?" Eraqus spoke, showing the blue and orange flasks he encountered earlier.
"Yes, exactly, the orange one is for healing your wounds, and the blue one is for restoring your focus after using spells. I can improve them if you find an Estus Shard."
"Thank you for everything Andre, I hope to meet you again." Eraqus responded, waving to the blacksmith.
"Be careful out there, none of us want to see you, Hollow."
Then Eraqus walked through the halls of the shrine, familiarizing himself with its architecture and layout. Eventually, he returned to the central chamber and found a new addition to those present.
A woman with pale blond hair, wearing a long black dress and a crown-iron mask mix, was sitting on the stairs next to the fire. Her hands were clasped, and she bowed in prayer, but Eraqus's footsteps caught her attention. She raised her head to see who was approaching and immediately stood up and bowed politely.
"Welcome to the bonfire, Unkindled one. I am the Firekeeper. I take care of the flame, and I take care of you. The Lords have left their thrones, and they must be brought to them. For that, I am by your side," the Firekeeper spoke softly in an almost inaudible tone.
Ludleth, who was sitting on his throne, half paying attention to the conversation, interrupted. "He doesn't know the history of this world, Firekeeper. Explain it to him from the very beginning of our dying home."
"I understand. Forgive me for my ignorance," The Firekeeper apologized.
"You don't need to apologize, but I would like an explanation of the current situation. My arrival in these lands was turbulent, to say the least," Eraqus replied.
"Very well, the First Flame, which gave life to this world, is fading, and with it, the end of the Age of Fire approaches. The curse of the undead arises, and people become incapable of dying permanently. They are revived until their will fails and they become hollows, empty shells thirsty for souls that attack everything in their path," the Firekeeper explained.
"Judging by your knowledge of the situation, this is not the first time this has happened," Eraqus spoke, stroking his beard as he listened intently.
"Exactly. To prevent the First Flame from vanishing and prolonging the Age of Fire, a being with a powerful soul must rekindle the first flame, sacrificing themselves, and becoming a Lord of Cinder. The god Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight, was the first to perform this ritual, becoming a martyr and inspiring a generation of heroes who rekindled the flame. The Line of Lothric, founders of this kingdom, has dedicated themselves to rekindling the flame for centuries, but the current heir has abandoned his duties, forcing us to take drastic measures," the Firekeeper continued.
"Hump! Drastic is an understatement!" The knight commented from the other side of the shrine, having heard the conversation the entire time. The others ignored the knight's complaints, and the Firekeeper continued her explanation.
"Five Lords of Cinder who rekindled the First Flame in past eras have been revived: Aldrich, The Saint of the Deep, Farron's Undead Legion, The Abyss Watchers, the Recluse Lord in the Profaned Capital, Yhorm the Giant..." the Firekeeper spoke, turning towards Ludleth.
"And I, of course, Ludleth the Exile. I'm glad I introduced myself properly," Ludleth spoke, laughing lightly.
"However, the Lords of Cinder refused to rekindle the First Flame for their reasons, so the Unkindled, beings like you, were created from the remaining ashes used to revive the Lords. You must kill the Lords of Cinder and Prince Lothric, acquiring their ashes and placing them on their respective thrones, strengthening your soul and opening the way to the First Flame, where the fate of the world will be decided," the Firekeeper finished her explanation.
"So will I have to kill Ludleth if I decide to go through with this supposed mission?" Eraqus asked, crossing his arms and looking at the Lord on the throne.
"Haha, don't worry. I do this of my own free will. Besides, my feet are planted here. Like I said before, I'm not going anywhere," Ludleth laughed, strangely calm about the fate that awaited him.
Eraqus took a deep breath, formulating an answer in his mind as he pondered the information revealed to him, forming even more questions in his head. He needed to find a way to return home and make amends for the mistakes he made before it was too late.
On the other hand, he was bound by the rules of this world, coming back to life as an undead being, which was hard to believe, and being set on a journey to rekindle a magical flame that seemed to be important. As a Keyblade master, he had the duty to help.
"Tell me, what will happen if the First Flame goes out?" Eraqus asked.
"This is uncertain, but the beginning of the Age of the Dark is the most accepted outcome by scholars and priests around the world," the Fire Keeper responded.
Eraqus's eyes widened in surprise as his mouth opened slightly. Seriousness came over his face as he realized that the situation was direr than he expected.
"The Age of the Dark… What exactly will this bring?" Eraqus asked.
"The end of the world as we know it, or so they say. The sun will disappear, and the stars will go out. The light will cease to exist, and darkness will consume the world, ending all life. However, this has never happened before. We only have the words left by dead and forgotten gods as proof. Yes, the flame is going out, and the world is becoming a pile of ruins, but perhaps nothing will happen in the end," Ludleth shrugged, answering Eraqus's question.
"But in the end, we cannot force you to accept this mission. You are free to leave if you wish, other unkindled ones are roaming Lothric, and perhaps one of them can defeat the Lords and reach the First Flame." The Firekeeper completed.
"I... I accept this mission, everything to stop the darkness from consuming the world." Eraqus responded in a mixture of doubt and determination.
Eraqus may not possess his full power, but he knew the fate of the worlds consumed by darkness, and he would not allow it to happen, not while there was a chance of victory.
"This is wonderful!" The Firekeeper spoke, smiling slightly.
"Well, well, you look promising, Eraqus. I will watch your journey with interest. Let's see if you can slay the great Lords who walked this world." Ludleth smiled in amusement.
"I thank you for your inspiring words, but I cannot waste time. Where should I go first?" Eraqus asked.
"Simply touch the bonfire and you will be taken to the High Wall of Lothric, the next step on your quest." The Firekeeper responded, pointing to the bonfire in the center of the shrine.
Eraqus bowed his head in thanks, saying goodbye to the Firekeeper, and Ludleth, and walked towards the bonfire, attracting curious looks from the knight and the man dressed in black.
Slowly, Eraqus extended his hand towards the fire, watching as a golden mist surrounded him as his being was transported to another place.
END OF CHAPTER