The return to the shrine was swift and uninterrupted, thanks to the nearby bonfire. When the fog cleared, Eraqus and Irina found themselves in the center of the building near the main bonfire.
The usual attendees looked curiously at the newest addition to the local population, and the Fire Keeper was the first to greet them with a polite bow.
"Greetings, Unkindled. I am pleased to see you unharmed and far from Hollow. But I must ask, who is the young lady accompanying you?"
"The feeling is mutual, Keeper. Your familiar face fills me with relief after the horrors I have witnessed. This is Irina of Carim. I have placed her under my service and protection as my teacher of miracles."
The young maiden in question reacted to the mention of her name, adopting a dumbfounded expression as she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. Those nearby watched her with concern, but a second, louder mention of her name snapped her out of her stupor.
"It is an honor to be in your presence, Fire Keeper. I never imagined someone like me would meet one," Irina responded quickly and nervously, her voice filled with admiration.
"Such formality is unnecessary, young Irina. I am but a humble servant of the shrine, tending to the flames and its inhabitants," the Fire Keeper replied, smiling slightly as the young woman struggled to respond.
"R-right! A-as you wish!"
Eraqus and Irina bid her farewell, and he led her to a different section of the sanctuary. Along the way, he greeted and answered the questions of those he met, most of which revolved around the sudden arrival of new faces to such a distant place.
A being with a shell chained to its back, a hooded thief, a strange pyromancer, and now a young saint—all mentioned having met him before.
He answered truthfully, confirming that he had met them, but he never revealed the location of the shrine or suggested they should meet him there. There was no knowing if they would pose a danger in the future, so it was best to remain vigilant.
With that done, Eraqus seated Irina in a room near Andre's forge, and there they began her teachings on miracles.
"A human can conjure miracles by learning the tales of the Gods and saying a prayer to receive the blessing of their revelations. They need to use talismans or chimes as catalysts and possess strong faith," Irina explained calmly, as if teaching a child. However, a faint tone of nervousness lingered in her voice, betraying her inexperience in the role of teacher.
Eraqus nodded, listening intently. He wondered if he would be able to conjure these abilities himself, considering he had never been a religious person. He doubted he would have the time to read sacred texts, memorize their stories, and, more importantly, truly believe in them.
"However, the power of the gods over the world is fading due to the constant cycles of the First Flame," Irina continued, her voice tinged with regret. "Their names have been almost completely forgotten."
Eraqus' expression hardened at the reminder of his mission. "Tell me, Irina, what do you know about the First Flame?"
"Only what the sacred books and the priests of Carim have taught me," She replied. "That it is responsible for the creation of life—the source of power the gods used to defeat the ancient dragons and reshape the world in their image. It is also the force that keeps the Age of Dark at bay. The Lord of Sunlight sacrificed himself to keep it burning, beginning the tradition of rekindling the flame. It is the duty of the Way of White, the greatest religion in Carim, to create Firekeepers who maintain the ritual."
"I see," Eraqus mused. "Not unlike what I was told. And from what I understand, you failed to become a Keeper."
Irina's expression immediately soured, and he regretted his words the moment they left his lips.
"Correct," She admitted softly, her voice quieter. "By the traditions of Carim, my frail constitution made me a saint, and my blindness marked me as a candidate to become a Firekeeper. But for reasons unknown to me, I was deemed unworthy. I was told I could not fulfill the role. And so, with no purpose, I was sent to these lands, accompanied only by Eygon, who swore undying loyalty to me—though I know he resents protecting one so weak."
Eraqus wanted to offer words of comfort, but nothing came to mind. He knew so little about her, her past, or her homeland. The customs of Carim were foreign to him, and he struggled to grasp the weight of her rejection. Instead, he searched for a question that might lift her spirits.
"Irina, could you tell me more about Carim and your life there?"
The young woman immediately perked up, lifting her head as she spoke of her homeland. She described growing up in a powerful family of mid-ranking clergy within the Way of White. Her childhood had been spent reading sacred tomes and learning the history of the gods and their miracles under the guidance of her strict—though not unkind—parents.
She spoke of the many peculiar magical artifacts crafted by the priests of Carim and the warriors who fought with a weapon in each hand. She described the Gothic architecture of the grand cathedrals, structures she had never seen with her own eyes but had felt through touch and heard described by others.
With the arrival of Morne, she explained, the kingdom's faith had shifted, integrating the worship of foreign gods into their pantheon.
Due to the passing of the endless cycles and the growing number of undead, the people of Carim gradually lost faith in the gods. Violence and paranoia spread through the kingdom, turning it into a battleground of political assassinations and ruthless power struggles.
Irina continued speaking, her words unceasing. She spoke of the high points—the unshakable devotion of Carim's faithful. But she also spoke of the lows—how that same devotion could spiral into blind ignorance, fueling hunts against heretics and the undead.
Her story reached the moment already mentioned—when she was declared a saint, a title that brought glory to her family. Yet her failure to become a Firekeeper stained that honor with shame.
She confided in Eraqus her deep-seated fear that her mission was nothing more than a convenient way to discard her. And yet, she still clung to the hope that she might one day find a purpose worthy of her efforts.
Time passed, and in that brief exchange, both of them learned much about each other. Eraqus, usually guarded about his past, shared glimpses of his own history. By the end of their conversation, a deeper understanding had formed between them.
With that, the lessons in miracles continued. The Keyblade Master expanded his arsenal, learning Heal, Replenishment, and Caressing Tears. He made a brief trip to the Handmaid to purchase a simple talisman, but despite his efforts, he failed to conjure the miracles.
He simply lacked the necessary faith.
Irina suggested he seek guidance from the Keeper to increase his faith. This raised an important question—how could one strengthen their faith so profoundly without truly believing in the religion behind it?
With their business concluded, Eraqus bid Irina farewell, exchanging a sincere thank-you before departing in search of his other teacher. He found the man sitting on the floor in a room opposite Irina's.
"Greetings, Eraqus. I see you're eager to begin your lessons." The pyromancer chuckled lightly, motioning for him to sit.
"I admit, your pyromancy intrigues me," Eraqus replied, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "I'd like to know how it differs from the magic I use."
"Oh? So your flame comes from the study of magic?"
"Correct. But just like your pyromancy, it requires practice and self-understanding—drawn, for the most part, from the heart."
Cornyx nodded, a pleased smile crossing his face. "Then I will be happy to teach you. But first—hold out your hand."
Eraqus complied, placing his hand in Cornyx's.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, without warning, a flame flickered to life in his palm.
He gasped in surprise. Yet, despite the fire's presence, there was no pain. No discomfort.
Only warmth.
"This is a Pyromantic Flame, a catalyst for pyromancies, but in doing so I have given you a part of myself, so please take care of it."
Eraqus remained silent, staring intently at the fire burning on his skin; this was not just a magical item, but part of another person. What did Cornyx see in him to hand over something so important?
Whatever it is, he will treat it with the utmost respect possible; it would be a shame to betray all the trust placed in him.
Then the Pyromancer told the story of his art, how it was created by the Old Witch, one of the three Main Gods, and her daughters, and distorted with the failed attempt to recreate the First Flame, corrupting several living beings and giving rise to the demons that plague the world.
How one of the Witch's daughters survived the disaster and brought pyromancy to mortals, abandoning her conjuration by staff in favor of the pyromantic flame.
How pyromancy was frowned upon by those who practiced other arts due to its proximity to nature, even declaring some pyromancers as heretics for not following the same rules as other sorceries.
From his homeland, the Great Swamp, a land of rugged grasslands and treacherous marshes, famous worldwide as a land of pyromancy practice, but having its natives looked down upon by most people due to their atypical appearance and their lifestyle close to nature, as pyromancy requires one to be in tune with it.
Eraqus, on the other hand, told a little about how his magic worked and his years of study at Scala ad Caelum. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, he had a great affinity for pyromancies, probably because he was a Keyblade Master and already had a great understanding of himself.
The classes continued and he acquired three pyromancies from his teacher, Fireball, Fire Surge, and Flash Sweat.
Bidding farewell to the Pyromancer, he slowed his steps, feeling his good mood disappear and hesitation taking over his mind, as he pondered how to deliver the news to Greirat.
How should he start the conversation? What words should he use? What gestures? Should he say it all at once like removing a bandage or should he deliver the news piecemeal like talking to a child?
His ramblings led him to where the man in question sat, on a piece of cloth with boxes of loot around him.
"Oh, hello, you're back and in one piece. How was your search? Did you deliver the ring to Loretta?"
His heart sank at the man's words, making him question whether he should pretend nothing was wrong and say his mission was a success, but that would be a terrible lie, so he took a breath and closed his eyes in anticipation, delivering the news shortly thereafter.
"I arrived at the settlement and found Loretta, Greirat, unfortunately, it was too late, I'm sorry." He removed the bone from its bottomless box and handed it to the hooded man who widened his eyes, falling silent before accepting the object with trembling hands.
"Heavens, she was already dead… Thank you, but I'm not surprised, it's almost a relief. You can keep the ring, as… well, a small token of thanks, I guess." His tone of voice and subtle gestures betrayed his words and attitude, cracking with each word as tears slowly crept from his eyes, and glistened in the candlelight. Soon he found himself crying as he hugged his friend's bone.
Eraqus watched with regret, wanting to help the poor man, but this was not the right time. He needed to get his emotions out and deal with the pain before anyone interfered in his fragile state, so he chose to step aside, allowing Greirat to process his grief in peace.
The cries became muffled as he walked away, wandering through the sanctuary,In a secluded corner, half-hidden in the dim light, sat a familiar hunched figure draped in tattered robes.
Eraqus narrowed his eyes. "Yoel." He nodded in acknowledgment.
The hooded figure lifted its head slightly. "Eraqus." The Pilgrim's voice was quiet yet firm, his tone laced with an almost reverent weight.
The Keyblade Master crossed his arms, observing the peculiar traveler. "What are you doing here? I thought you would continue your pilgrimage."
Yoel's thin fingers fidgeted with the frayed edges of his robe. "I have wandered in circles, seeking purpose. For now, I simply wish to rest. But more than that…" He paused, tilting his head slightly. "I would like to offer you a proposal."
Eraqus' expression hardened ever so slightly. His instincts flared with distrust. "What kind of proposal?"
Yoel exhaled, his breath raspy yet composed. "As I once mentioned, I was a sorcerer. The magic of Londor may pale in comparison to the grandeur of Vinheim, but there is knowledge I can share with you… knowledge that may prove invaluable. But more importantly—" He leaned forward slightly, his tone carrying an undercurrent of something almost conspiratorial. "I believe I can help you discover your true strength."
Eraqus' frown deepened. "True strength?"
Yoel gave a slow nod. "We, the pilgrims of Londor, understand the Dark Sign better than most. Those who bear its mark are not merely cursed—they are something more. Something special."
A shiver crept along Eraqus' spine. His voice was measured when he asked, "What do you hope to achieve?"
Yoel's hooded face remained unreadable. "I can help you awaken the true power of the Dark Sign within you, to transform this curse into strength. With it, you may overcome any challenge on your path. It is a gift, one that few understand, but those who do… become something greater."
Eraqus' hands clenched at his sides. A gift? No, that was a dangerous way of thinking. The power of darkness was no blessing. And yet… the more he learned about this world, the more he saw its undeniable cracks. The golden age of Gods had long since faded, and in its wake, only rot and despair remained.
He did not trust Yoel's words, but could he truly ignore them?
A long silence stretched between them before Eraqus finally spoke. "Forgive me, but I will have to refuse."
Yoel remained still for a moment before nodding slowly. "A pity, but not unexpected. Regardless, I wish you safe travels, Eraqus."
Eraqus gave a short nod in return. "And I wish you a good rest."
Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his mind still turning over the conversation.
It was a curious thing, his way of thinking and beliefs had not changed, he did not feel anything different, but the difficulty no longer existed. Perhaps he had acquired a new kind of understanding?
With everything done, it was time to continue his journey, but there was still a bit of curiosity poking at the back of his mind. He wanted to know more about this world after hearing the stories of Irina and Cornyx.
He would ask the other inhabitants of the shrine about their homelands later, however, he feared hearing more of the same, Gods making grave mistakes and kingdoms living in cycles of glory and decadence connected to the weakening of the First Flame, and the emergence of the Curse.
So without further ado, he transported himself to the bonfire near the settlement's church.
-Undead Settlement-
Eraqus approached the large building, noting Eygon's absence. With little effort, he pushed open the old stone gates, revealing a narrow staircase lined with lit candles. As the fresh air swept in, the flames flickered and extinguished one by one.
Just ahead, he spotted a working elevator. It soon began ascending, indicating that someone was already using it.
Sensing potential danger, the Keyblade Master immediately assumed a fighting stance, bracing for whatever—or whoever—was approaching. However, to his surprise, a second elevator suddenly rose from the shaft beneath the first, revealing a peculiar-looking figure clad in bizarre armor.
The individual's large, rounded helmet resembled an onion, and his bulky chest plate, layered with folds of metal and leather, gave him the appearance of a borderline obese man. His bracers and leggings were appropriately proportioned, all stark white in color. As if his appearance weren't strange enough, he carried a massive sword resting on his shoulder and wielded a small, spike-adorned shield.
Eraqus remained tense, unsure if this armored figure was friend or foe. But before he could act, the stranger simply ignored him and walked away as if he weren't even there.
Eraqus followed him with his gaze, still in his combat stance, wearing a dumbfounded expression. He could hear the man muttering to himself in a deep, contemplative voice, revealing his gender.
"Hmm…"
"Excuse me," Eraqus called politely, waving in his direction. There was no response.
"Mmmmmmm…" The onion-clad knight muttered louder, still seemingly lost in thought.
"Hey, here!" Eraqus tried again. Still nothing.
"Hmm… Mmm…"
"Sir Knight!"
"Oh! Forgive me, I was absorbed in my thoughts!" The exclamation startled him, causing him to recoil slightly before finally acknowledging Eraqus. When he spoke, his voice was jovial and warm.
"I am Siegward of Catarina, and to be honest, I find myself in a bit of a difficult situation." The knight, now identified as Siegward, rubbed his helmet sheepishly, glancing away in embarrassment.
"Rest assured, there are no hard feelings, Siegward. Forgive my rudeness—I should be more patient," Eraqus replied, still subtly analyzing the man's posture for any signs of danger. "What problem do you face? Perhaps I can help?"
Siegward straightened slightly. "Have you ever approached a white birch tree and been struck by a giant arrow?"
Eraqus frowned at the odd question. "No, and I suppose I should consider myself fortunate for that."
"Well, if I'm not mistaken, they're coming from this very tower. Whoever's up there, I'm sure I can convince them to stop, but I have to find a way up first. And that… Well, that's the problem. This elevator only goes down, you see, and… well, it doesn't get me anywhere…"
Siegward sighed heavily before falling back into deep thought.
"Hmm… Mmm… With a little warm-up, eventually… No, no… I have to use my head and think. Hmm… Mmm…"
Eraqus watched the knight mumble to himself, completely oblivious to his surroundings once again. It felt like something straight out of a comedy.
With a sigh, Eraqus shrugged and glanced upward. His eyes landed on the first elevator, now resting at the top of the tower. He couldn't help but wonder how Siegward had failed to notice it.
He stepped with the tip of his foot on the pressure plate of the current elevator and quickly stepped back, making it go down and the first one return before he climbed up and headed towards the top of the tower, seeing a side passage with boards in the middle of the way.
Reaching his destination, he climbed a short staircase and stepped outside the tower, stepping back in surprise when he saw a large, thin, gray creature wearing a loincloth, an iron mask, and several chains and wounds covering its body.
However, the being ignored him, using its colossal bow to fire arrows of equal size at the creatures that wandered in the distance, mostly in a large cemetery now covered in arrows and impaled corpses.
"Hello!" The being spoke in a booming voice, snapping him out of his surprise.
"H-hello! Are you the one shooting arrows at the white birch trees?"
"Yes."
"Could you stop? I might have to pass through the places your arrows land and I'd rather not get hit by them."
"Okay."
"Just like that?"
"Yes, I'll help you out anytime."
Eraqus blinked in disbelief, trying to understand what had just happened. It had never been this easy, surely there had to be some trick.
"Then if you'll allow me, I'll set off on my journey."
"All right, goodbye." The being waved goodbye before staring at a city in the distance, barely visible in the mist.
The Master chose not to abuse his kindness and returned the way he came, jumping from the elevator and landing in the side passage, reaching the roof of the church and finding Siegward again, this time sitting on the edge of the place, lost in thought and observing the path ahead.
"Hmm… Mmm…"
"Siegward?"
"Ah, oh! Don't disappear like that, but thanks to you, an epiphany hit me full force. I've solved the riddle of this inscrutable elevator!" The knight laughed, patting the side of his helmet while the corners of the Keyblade Master's mouth raised in amusement, for the change of mood he brought was welcome.
"Some days, I start to doubt myself. I climbed the tower, that's what I thought, and somehow I ended up here. I don't know exactly what happened. Anyway, do you see that? I'm no coward and I have a steady hand, but that thing gives me the creeps. Now, think twice before you go down that path."
Eraqus looked where he was pointing and saw a large gray creature made of wood and rock wandering through the camp, carrying an axe and with a small flame burning on its chest.
Its footsteps shook the ground and its body crackled with each movement as the heat emanated distorted the air, searching for its next victim.
"I could try to convince it… No, I don't think so, it's too hot, I have to use my head and think. Hmm… Mmm…"
He felt grateful for the knight's warning and for his giving up on the attempt at dialogue, as he doubted the creature would listen to him. They could face the monstrosity together, but it was too dangerous, and Eraqus preferred not to repeat Vordt's experience.
So he said goodbye to the friendly knight and went a different way, collecting a magic ring that made him feel healthier when he put it on, jumping down to the ground floor of the church, and taking the elevator to the lower levels.
However, his peaceful descent ended as soon as he reached his destination, as he came face to face with a tall, slender knight shrouded in icy mist and walking like an animal, similar to Vordt.
A sickly blue glow emanated from the vents of his helmet as he closed the distance madly, leaping and swinging his frozen sword like a beast.
The Master acted quickly, stepping on the elevator's pressure plate, sending it upwards as he leaped backward, clearing the shaft below and conjuring a Fireball with his Pyromantic Flame, striking his enemy in mid-flight, sending him plummeting to his death in the nearby pit.
The souls entered his body as soon as the beast hit the bottom, reverberating through the walls, and with his adversary defeated, he moved on, spotting the knight's weapon lying on the ground.
It was enchanted with an ice spell, which was a welcome addition to his arsenal, so he sheathed his Uchigatana, storing it in its bottomless box, and held the sword in its place, heading through the underground passage, opening a large pair of doors and arriving at a new location.
He found himself in a forest full of large greenish trees and orange leaves covering several narrow rocky passages, a strangely lively place compared to the previous locations, but that did not mean there was no lack of danger.
He could see the Highwall in the distance, but the thing in front of him was the focus of his attention, a bonfire. Eraqus sighed in relief at the sight of what was slowly becoming a source of comfort and lit it, preparing to sit down, but he stopped when something stirred his senses.
A swift shadow passed through the foliage above, momentarily blocking the sunlight, hurried footsteps shook bushes and broke twigs on the ground, and dark shapes leaped from tree to tree, all converging in his direction.
He turned his back to the fire and raised his new weapon with both hands, analyzing his surroundings with attentive eyes and ears, trying to discern the number of enemies and where they would come from.
Suddenly, everything went silent as if nothing had happened. An overwhelming tension took over the environment, even the animals you would hear in a forest fell silent.
The Master did not allow himself to be shaken, years of experience and combat had hardened his nerves so he prepared himself, waiting for the first movement, and that movement came in the form of leaves falling on his head followed by a large shadow.
Looking up, Eraqus saw a large mouth full of sharp fangs approaching, along with a pair of monstrous arms tipped with claws.
Howls filled the once-silent forest, accompanied by the crack of steel clashing against steel.
More of the monstrous figures leaped from their hiding places toward their master, and a pair of knights in the distance raised their heads and glared at each other upon hearing the commotion.
'So many monsters to fight, so little respite to take refuge in. How do the people of this world endure…?'
END OF CHAPTER