Sanity's Ashes

Chapter One

Author's Note: This story is a non-profit derivative work based on the game Dark Souls, published by Namco Bandai Games JP: FromSoftware, intended for the purposes of parody.

If I can speak in English here, this is just a Dark Souls fan fiction, so don't screw me over XD. Also, I'm writing in present tense, which is new to me, but I thought it would fit. Yell at me if I messed it up in the comments.

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I feel nothing. I don't even feel my own body. I have no thoughts. All I can comprehend is a deep darkness, as if I have been plummeting into a dark pit for so long I have lost awareness of the world. This is how it's been for longer than I can remember, for I indeed have no actual memories of what I am.

But here, what's this? I feel something. It's a shiver rolling up my spine-no, wait, I have a spine? Yes! I do. I have a spine, I can feel cold air buffeting my skin, oh, that I feel something, the cold air is more than just a wake up call, it's a very seraph that has come down to lift me from my unconscious.

I feel the cold air traveling over the parts of my body, and blowing away some kind of thick obscurity that blanketed my sense of bodily inhabitance. I relish in the awareness that I have some kind of body.

I can feel myself remembering how I'm supposed to feel as a human, remembering what it's like to have a body. I realize now that I'm thinking!

Now my brain reels with a very confusing series of signals, it excites me, making me marvel at what is going on, and eventually I recognize it, sound! Yes, exactly that, the messages are that of my ears delivering to me the sounds of the wind blowing, a low whistle, with the blessed sound cloth gallantly flapping in the breeze.

That's right! I remember! Cloth! I feel it now, separate from my skin, I feel clothes bundled around my body, a leather hood over my head.

Another sensation? Ah yes, I know this one! It's scent! My nose tells me it's not a favorable scent, the smell of ashes and decay perhaps? Alas, I do not care one bit! Be it foul, be it good, it was a scent! I could feel it!

I feel a cascade of signals issuing from my tongue, I let my body recognize it as taste. The taste that I receive, however, is far too repulsive for me to enjoy the sense rushing back to me. I can't tell what the taste is, but I shift my mouths muscles until they obey, and spit out the contents.

I feel there's something missing. Hm, something important. Oh, but I can't quite put my finger on it. What's wrong, what's wrong...

Ah! My eyes! I need to open them to see! A thin layer of dust covers my eyes, and I vigorously rouse my left hand, somewhat painfully wiping away at my eyes. Move aside obstacles, let me see the world once more, let me be complete!

As I tear open my eyes, the world slowly starts to come into focus, as if a thick fog is slowly peeling back.

I welcome the image, eager to see it in full. When I see it, however, I freeze in my thoughts of joy. I'm in a graveyard. A graveyard full of ashes, swords stuck in the ground, and tattered banners bleakly waving in the breeze which moves ashes silently along the ground and all around me.

Surrounding the area are cliffs of stone, leaving only a linear path out of the graveyards and into who knows what.

Graveyard...ashes...death. Yes, I had died. I remember now. Why did I wake up? What woke me up? How? Joy and fright both give way to despair as I try to think of an explanation I can fathom for my current state of being.

Eventually, a metallic clang jerks my mind away from my desperation. I look up, and see it's just one piece of armor touching another, shifting ever so slightly in the wind.

I give my head an energetic shake, and set my face into what I could only hope was a calm expression. I don't know who I am, or why I am here, but by the devil I will find out.

I rise to my feet, and feel my bones snapping and creaking as if ancient limbs of timber were being yanked this way and that by the breeze. It hurts, but my limbs thank me for freeing them. As I rise, I feel two objects of metallic weight on my body, and I stop to see that one is a shield strapped over my back, and the other a hand-axe strapped to my waist by a sash in my leather coat.

I start walking forward, deciding I wasn't in any immediate danger, being in a graveyard. The path quickly is covered in a thin layer of water as I move forward, and I see a man in black rags standing in front of me, leaning against the wall as if in grief.

"Excuse me, sir." I say, doing my best to speak clearly without spooking him. The man gives no reply, simply leaning against the wall. The figure has its back turned to me, and the only parts of skin I can see are extremely pale and thin limbs. "Sir!?" I raise my voice, hoping to gain his attention.

I slowly walk towards him, making my footsteps heavy and loud, but still graceful. He may be deaf, or he may just be too grief-stricken to care. Either way I would at least find out who he was, unless he would deny me even that.

I'm closer to him now, and I give another offer of introduction. He just keep his position, so I take a step closer and-

It's turns to face me. A hood is pulled over it's head, and I do call the figure an "it", because it's face is a pale, with no distinguishable human features, like a skull with pale skin pulled tight over it, hollow black holes replacing eyes. It lets out a low, rasping moan and awkwardly runs toward me, madly swinging a small knife as if desperate to hit me, but not even sure how to.

I half roll half stumble backwards, letting the knife miss me. The creature keeps at its awkward charge, it's actions don't seem cool or calculated, but wild and brainless, like a wounded animal striking out in rage.

As the creature gets close, and I'm still recovering from my roll, I realize that I'm not going to be able to dodge this next swing. I draw my fists up as if to block, but then, as if out of instinct, thrust my left hand forward, and a flame ignites and explodes outward, making the creature recoil in pain.

As it prepares again to attack, I yank my axe from its place in my sash, holding it in place for a swing with my right hand. The creature does not seem to care about my newfound weapon, and charges maniacally. I bring the axe down hard as I slip to the side slightly, letting the weapon drop into the creatures ghastly skull.

It crumples to the ground with a sickening sound of burning and crunching flesh, taking my axe with it. I take a second to get my thoughts back, not being able to take my eyes from the hollow's body.

Wait, hollow? I just called the creature a hollow, but why? Oh, they're coming back to me, the curse of hollows, humans deprived of humanity and left to rot. Oh, something else! My hand, it's on fire!

No, it's not quite on fire, it just has a flame thinly hovering over it, as if I were holding it in my palm. I struggle to remember, hazy images of memories slowly drifting in and out. Pyromancer. That's it, I was a pyromancer! Or, I am a pyromancer?

Oh, it's all so strange. But I've remembered a piece of who I am! Though I look down, and quickly remember how grim my current circumstances are. Setting my face once again in a calm manner, I reach down and retrieved my axe from the corpse.

"Hollows, eh?" For some reason, I start laughing as I say this, and abandon my calm composure for a wide grin. I have no idea why I'm so happy, as if I'm a child who has just rediscovered a long-lost hobby.

A hobby, in this case, of burning what this world calls evil.