Elden Lord

Chapter 2 - Shardbearer

The Outer Lord

Chapter 2: Shardbearer

Night fell across the Lands Between. Even in the small hours, darkness was kept at bay by the auric glow of the Erdtree. It was a splendid sight, Talos had to admit. As well as being beautiful against the backdrop of the star-speckled sky, it provided him ample light to navigate the wide open plains. Leaves as golden as their parent tree fell from the sky like gentle rain. Talos held out a gloved hand, catching one of them. It was as ordinary as any leaf from any tree, but he felt the warm energy contained within. What surprised him, however, was while the leaves of the Erdtree lay where they fell, the one in his hand began to smoke, its edges smoldering before igniting, quickly burning away to cinders until it was naught but ash in his palm. It was a curious sight, and one that warranted investigation. For now, he rested at a site of Grace with Torrent near Mistwood, feeding the spectral steed handfuls of berries, much to Torrent's quiet delight.

''An eventful day, eh, Torrent?'' Talos mused, stuffing a berry into his mouth with the Grafted Blade resting on the grass beside him.

After he left Irina and Edgar behind, Talos had spied the wall of golden fog far below on the beach behind Castle Morne. Whatever structure had been there had been utterly destroyed, most likely in a coastal offensive in a war long since concluded. With no need of the Beast Cutter with Irina safely away, he put it away and donned his trusted Lothric Knight sword. This proved to be a wise choice, as the fortifications down the cliff led him into cramped rooms filled with vile creatures. His sword made quick work of everything that barred his path until he finally met the sand of the beach.

He passed by clutches of strange jellyfish, grey as mist, that didn't seem at all perturbed by his presence. They floated above the ground and seemed to lack the corporeality of living creatures. He let them be, leaving them to their own business as he approached the golden fog gate. Passing through it, he laid eyes on a creature, neither man nor beast, but some hybrid of the two. The Leonine Misbegotten was orange in colouration, with a lion's mane about its neck and shoulders. Its body was lean with clearly defined muscle, though not overly bulky, while it's face terminated in a snout-like mouth reminiscent of its namesake. In one hand, it carried an ugly weapon. It was the rough approximation of a sword, rough-hewn and made of rusted sword blades that jutted off in all directions, creating deadly serrations. Was this the so-called treasure of Castle Morne? Well, no matter its form, it was unique and therefore Talos was going to take it for himself.

The creature stood on digitigrade legs. It growled with a deep rumble in its throat before pouncing, its powerful legs projecting it several meters towards Talos. The Tarnished, with sword in hand, was ready. The first strike came, a mighty overhead swing that met the sand and sent it in a clumpy plume into the air. Talos strafed, having avoided the strike and thrust out in a counter. The amalgous sword in the Leonine's hands came up and blocked the incoming thrust with the uneven flat of the blade. However, the creature felt something it hadn't expected. The sheer power behind the thrust sent shockwaves up its arms, making them ache as it was forced back, its feet leaving deep grooves in the sand as it was sent reeling.

Talos waited instead of pressing his advantage, twirling the sword idly in his hand. He saw a myriad of openings in the Leonine's guard, each practically begging for his sword to find its mark. This creature was hardly a worthy contender against Talos. He knew that. He had felled beings that would grind the Misbegotten under their heels before they'd even notice it was there. However, Talos wasn't interested in merely killing this creature. He wanted to study it. He had little doubt he would encounter more of its kind, and if this world was like the others in any way, then knowledge of his enemies would prove invaluable. Talos knew that time had forged him into something that was notoriously hard to kill. But while killing him may border on impossible for most, he had the wisdom granted by vast experience that the chance of even the most meagre of foes killing him was laughably unlikely, but never zero. Rats and dogs and even birds had taught him that lesson, as embarrassing as it was. Though to be fair, they were either freakishly large or otherwise deviant from their standard forms.