Elden Ring: Putrefaction of Gold

The Road to Gahenna

 Rykard littered his office with a blanket of papers as he rifled through his drawers and shelves. He recalled the woman's scarred face and that defiant look as though there was nothing he could do to her, but not where and how he came across her and her cult. Once convinced that nothing might come of its contents, Rykard did with the report what he did with all others: put it away in the drawer to forget about it. But he needed to cash in on the dividends of all the secrets he accumulated over the years. He recalled the potential of this information to create a sizable scandal if he could find the other pieces of the puzzle and put it all together. With Ranni now finally showing a serious effort to take control of her own destiny, he needed every scrap of blackmail he could find to ensure she did not grow distracted again.

"What was her name?" he muttered, skimming over the cramped, slanted cursive, only to find nothing. There were accusations, confessions that may or may not be true, and ridiculous rumors of a tarnished inter-dimensional being thieving about under the dumb name of "Patches" --- or some nonsense like that.

"Rykard? Husband."

Rykard slammed the drawer closed.

"Tanith," he said, his back straight and his lip stiff.

"You fret so much over Godwyn as though there was something to gain by assassinating his character," she said.

Rykard's mounting frustration over the situation caused him repeatedly to question why he bothered to marry Tanith. Things were well enough between them without, and it wasn't as though his parents or the Golden Order would ever approve of such a thing. There was nothing between them save their typical perchance for scheming, and even then, they didn't have goals that aligned.

"And you speak as though I needed your council."

Tanith yanked the paper from Rykard's hand.

"House Marias is already waiting, and your brother and half-sister are expected later today. Yet here you are, continuing to harass that poor man as though he's done anything wrong."

"Tanith, this is not the time."

"It is the time! If you were truly serious about making any difference, then why not make your war against the real issue? The Erdtree itself."

"We are not talking about this."

"What are you afraid of, Rykard? Losing all of this? Your position? Your wealth? Is any of that meaningful compared to seeing yourself on the throne as Lord?"

His face was up against Tanith's.

"Tanith, shut up!"

She shoved him back.

"I will not, this time. You forget that a son's flaws are the sign of a flaw of the mother. And it is the mother who deserves your wrath. Why are you not opposing the goddess who has left this land cursed? Why are you not destroying Marika?"

The noise of Rykard's hand was deafening as it smacked against Tanith's cheek. The force sent her sprawling to the floor, almost like it was in slow motion. He could move in disbelief at what he had just done. There were flickers of denial.

He couldn't have done that! But he did.

Rykard struggled with both his desire to comfort her with apologies and kisses, but he froze at the sound of Tanith holding in the sobs. He couldn't even look at her. He made a frustrated noise as his mind lingered between regret and blame.

The couple had quarreled numerous times, even to the point of becoming physical, but these incidences were the result of a night of heavy drinking. He had never struck Tanith, and never touched her to the point of drawing blood, which now dripped from the corner of her mouth.