Ashes to Ashes

Prologue

Elena regarded the massive, silver-clad knight coolly. He knelt over an empty fire pit clutching a massive polearm. Through his chest was a coiled sword. The giant doors that blocked her path wouldn't open before her without that sword, but removing it would likely awaken the knight. Death, here in Lothric, was rarely permanent. Though the knight appeared dead, and by all rights should be, Elena herself had just risen from the grave to the sound of the Bells of Awakening. This behemoth had likely also heard the call, but was unable to animate with the coiled sword piercing his heart.

Elena gripped her rapier tightly in one hand, and with the other moved to grasp the coiled sword that stood between her and her destiny.

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The heartbeat thundered in Meg's ears and her feet pounded the ground. Adrenaline was surging through her veins and she dared a glance back at the towering behemoth pursuing her. The Trapper was in rare form, having already slaughtered the three other survivors who had entered the trial with her. Only two generators had been powered, but that was enough to give her a spark of hope. If she could just keep running, the hatch would spell her escape and return to the bonfire where her companions undoubtedly were waiting.

Death may not be permanent here, but escape was a lot less painful, and Meg would do her damndest to escape unscathed.

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Elena darted in for a quick strike with her rapier, then danced just out of the enormous knight's reach. They were fighting for the right to be the one; the Unkindled one of prophecy to return the Lords of Cinder to their thrones and link the fire once more. The giant was surprisingly nimble for his size, and his movements flowed like water. Elena, however, was quicker and more agile. As he leapt to attack her once more, she rolled out of the way and quickly jabbed him twice with her rapier. She knew she had to be wearing him down.

He turned and tried to grab her, and again she skillfully avoided his attack and took advantage of the opening to get in a few more quick stabs before dancing out of reach. The knight must have been quite injured because he knelt down and groaned loudly. Had she won?

The taste of victory turned to ash in her mouth as a mass of black ooze sprang forth from the hole in his chest where the coiled sword had been, taking a dragonlike shape, and roared at her. She steeled herself, taking a defensive stance. It seemed her fight had only just begun.

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Meg slammed the pallet down behind her and heard a satisfying grunt come from the Trapper. She smirked to herself as she darted forward, knowing she'd slowed him down. It might be just enough to carry her to victory. She looked back again to verify, and saw him stomping down on the flimsy barricade, angrily smashing it to pieces. She ducked around a corner and stopped for a second to catch her breath. It wouldn't be long before he was hot on her heels, but she'd run him all over the area and, even for an athlete like Meg, it was taking its toll.

The tell-tale heartbeat informed her that her time was up, and it was time to run again.

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Elena watched as the silver knight crumpled and the black mass recede back into his chest. She felt the glut of souls he possessed transfer into her and she let out a sigh of relief. She was drenched in sweat from the battle and her muscles screamed in protest. A small bonfire had sprung up near the massive doors, an inviting bit of freedom between battles. She took the opportunity to sit and rest.

The warmth of the flames washed over her and Elena drank in the feeling and closed her eyes.

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Meg's heart was in her throat as she heard the familiar drone that signalled that the hatch was nearby. The Trapper was still hot on her heels, but she'd evaded him so far; a little longer shouldn't be too difficult. She rounded another corner and salvation was in view. She pushed herself even harder, sprinting with a burst of speed before diving headfirst into the open trapdoor. She felt the wind of the slash that would have hit her, and the door slammed shut above her. Finally able to really catch her breath, Meg walked slowly down the narrow passage, which opened up into the familiar woods of the bonfire.

She took her seat next to Dwight, who was looking particularly shellshocked, and closed her eyes as the warmth of the bonfire washed over her.

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A familiar wave of nausea followed by the sensation of vertigo.

One thinking: not again, not this soon.

One thinking: but I wasn't going anywhere.

Dread and confusion entwine, and somewhere in the multiverse, the wires cross.