Elden Ring: Putrefaction of Gold

The Dancing Waterfowl

Miquella sat at his desk with books and papers stacked up high on every flat surface of his room, save the small space for his paper and quill. He scribbled, crossed out, flipped through the pages of his books, and then with a loud sigh, began scribbling again.

When Ranni came in, she was surprised at how it seemed the young boy grew. Of course, it was impossible! The nature of Miquella's curse was that he could never grow and his body remained that of a two-year-old child. So, to see this, Ranni wasn't sure what to make of it.

Malenia on the other hand, was curled up on the chair, looking a little worse for wear and bored. Her shoulder hadn't healed as intended and Ranni could see the scarlet rot was bothering her a bit. It was a surprise she managed to make it out of bed at all as sores began forming on the soles of her feet.

"Come on, Miquella. Can't you read me a story? You can do that later," Malenia begged.

"I'm doing this for you," snapped Miquella. "So, stop breaking my concentration."

He slipped off his chair and began to pull the books from his shelves and throw them on the ground. He then paced around the room before he sat back at his desk.

"They were right here!" Miquella cried. "Where could they have gone?"

"Miquella, I have obtained what thou hath asked," said Ranni.

Miquella told her to put the papers on his desk but showed little interest in them.

"He's still upset about his notes," explained Malenia. "It's been weeks, and they haven't come up."

"The loss of things isn't always terrible. Sometimes it forces one to look in a different direction. Look, there's perhaps something here of some interest," said Ranni. She thumbed through the papers and pulled out one parchment in particular. "This here is a technique known as consecration. Before Marika's became the One Goddess, other gods were said to use it to ward off the meddling of their rivals."

"It's just a theory," said Miquella. "Not any better than all those other theories."

"Perhaps, but this has the benefit of a trustworthy source," said Ranni. "You wouldn't believe what animal he is."

"A dog!" exclaimed Malenia.

"No," laughed Ranni. "A very wise turtle. He's a good friend of my mother's and maybe even older than the Erdtree. And I'm certain that even if it is not accurately depicted in these references, then thy mother would surely recall the technique."

Malenia laughed at the thought of a giant talking turtle, but Miquella wasn't amused. He lashed out at his sister for not taking these matters seriously and helping him find his notes, which stunned Malenia.

"Miquella?" said Ranni.

"I'll look at it. But everything I worked for. I spent hours on those notes. Some of them came from the perfumers and the perfumers never write anything down."

"What about this?" Ranni asked, picking up one of the pieces of paper.

"It's a sleeping spell," said Miquella. "It's the only thing I can find."

"It's torture," scoffed Malenia.

"It helps so it doesn't hurt anymore," said Miquella.

"The dreams still hurt," said Malenia.

"Would you rather they cut your arm off while you're awake?"

Malenia grew quiet and began rubbing her shoulder where her arm once was. It still hurt, sometimes a great deal and Malenia struggled with the healing process. She had nightmares about losing her remaining limbs and no one could reassure her. Already the scarlet rot began to writhe again.