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Glory to my Proofreader: Solare. For he is one who points out mistakes and acts as my favourite wall to bounce ideas off of.
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Golden light shimmered, swirling like drifting motes of starlight before finally receding into the breeze at the outskirts of Summonwater Village.
When it cleared, three figures stood in the grass. Tarnished, his hand braced beneath Millicent's elbow, looked down the path ahead. Melina, her eyes already scanning the distance, had a hand resting gently on Tarnished's shoulder for balance.
"…a bit disorienting." Tarnished muttered, picking up his sentence mid-thought as if he'd never stopped speaking through the teleportation.
Millicent let out a breathy laugh, one that quivered with lingering nausea. "You were right. This is disorienting! I might have fallen flat if you hadn't let me hold onto you."
He grinned, looking down at her. "You'd have been fine either way."
Turning away from the grass beneath his feet, Tarnished took in the familiar scenery of Limgrave with a breath that felt more like a relief than air. The rot-choked stink of Caelid was far behind them now. What replaced it was wind laced with wildflowers and the faint smell of rainfall on stone.
It was clean, alive. A place where the lungs could breathe and the soul could ease.
Before him, golden mist rippled as Marika stepped forward in all her radiant, unbothered majesty. She stood before the distant Erdtree, stretching her arms out with a feline elegance that made Tarnished stop and stare. He couldn't help it. Her casual beauty was divine and dangerous, never failing to make his thoughts stumble.
She turned her head with a smirk that knew exactly what she was doing. "What art thou doing, mine champion? Dost thou not travel with company? Close thy mouth and move thy feet, else I shall think thou hast turned to stone like a lovesick fool."
He coughed into his hand and shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips as he turned eastward. His eyes traced the familiar silhouette of the Minor Erdtree standing proud within the mistwood. He walked to the cliff's edge and squinted over the sprawling land ahead.
A sea of forest stretched far as the eye could see, its emerald canopy broken only by the grey walls of a distant fortress nestled near the edge of the land, Fort Haight.
"Alright," Tarnished called over his shoulder. "That's our next destination."
Melina and Millicent approached as he pointed.
"Then we're making a quick detour to Agheel Lake. There's a dragon there that needs slaying. After that, we're heading south to the Weeping Peninsula."
Melina nodded, her expression calm and focused. "Not the most logical path… but I have long since stopped trying to follow your reasoning."
"I don't really understand what any of that means," Millicent admitted with a grin, brushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. "But I'm happy to tag along. At least until I find my own road."
Tarnished laughed, bright and free. "Good!"
He took one step forward and leapt off the cliff, vanishing into the drop below.
"Eh?" Millicent blinked, dumbfounded, then turned to Melina, hoping for clarity.
Melina only sighed, tugged her hood tighter, and jumped.
Millicent stood there, alone and unready, blinking at the empty air where her two companions had been. She listened, expecting the dull crunch of a broken body at any moment. But instead, a familiar voice echoed up from the cliff's edge.
"Millicent? What're you waiting for? Come follow us!"
She walked cautiously to the edge and peered down to see Tarnished waving her down, Melina standing calmly beside him. A breath caught in her throat.
"I'll catch you!" Tarnished shouted, arms open.
She nodded, heart thudding in her chest. She stepped back, took a deep breath, then sprinted forward and jumped.
The world became a blur of wind and speed. She felt weightless and helpless as her descent became a fall. Her posture failed. Her balance collapsed. She twisted midair and closed her eyes in panic, bracing for impact.
And then she stopped.
Cradled in Tarnished's arms, safe.
She opened one eye, blinking up at him. "You caught me…"
He smirked. "Of course I did. And you were fine at first, you know. Your posture when you jumped was good. You just didn't trust your instincts. That's what made it dangerous."
Her eyes sparkled with determination. "Next time, I won't hesitate."
He nodded and set her down gently, then turned to lead them toward the nearby graveyard.
They walked past cracked coffins and broken tombstones, a dozen or so of them scattered and looted, their stone lids pried open for what valuables they once held. Time and desperation had not been kind to the dead.
Marika appeared in the corner of his eye, lips curled in disgust. "Vultures," she muttered, casting a glare over the pillaged crypts.
Melina silently shook her head, her disapproval palpable.
Tarnished knew this place. This was where, in another time, he'd found the cookbook for crafting Sleep Pots. A long time ago now… And though he hadn't needed it today, the memory stung a little. He would have taken from this graveyard without a second thought once.
Now, it just felt wrong, distasteful.
Quietly, they set some of the coffins right. It wasn't much, but it was something. Melina whispered a prayer, and Millicent bowed her head. Tarnished followed, a little awkward, hands clasped in front of him without quite knowing what to say.
As their short prayer over the pillaged graveyard came to a close, the solemn air was suddenly pierced by an unmistakably dramatic, and rather shrill, voice echoing from deeper within the ruins.
"Hello? Is anybody there? Someone who might be interested in rescuing the great Kenneth Haight? Servant to the true Order, and celebrated repudiator of the false! O Erdtree! Grant me succour!"
Melina and Millicent immediately turned to each other, their brows furrowed, clearly caught off guard by the sudden theatrical plea for salvation.
Their eyes followed the voice to its source: a rather flamboyantly dressed middle-aged man with striking blonde hair, perched precariously atop a massive fallen marble ruin, shouting dramatically into the sky as if the Erdtree itself might descend and answer his prayer.
"…That is unexpected," Millicent murmured.
"Does he… expect the Erdtree to respond directly?" Melina asked with visible confusion.
Tarnished, meanwhile, narrowed his dragon-like eyes toward the man with an unreadable expression. He said nothing, but there was a faint glimmer of recognition in his gaze.
Marika's form shimmered into visibility beside him, arms crossed beneath her golden, divine bust, the other hand tapping her chin thoughtfully.
"Kenneth Haight... Haight... Haight... I distinctly remember this name…" She muttered aloud. "One of the noble bloodlines of Leyndell, if memory serves. A house that always aimed higher than their stature could support."
She turned slightly to her Champion, eyes narrowing in consideration. "Could this man be a descendant? Has the House of Haight fled to Limgrave after the Shattering, claiming the region in the chaos?"
Tarnished mentally shrugged with a dry tone in her mind. 'Honestly? No clue. Pretty sure this guy was just comic relief. His questline was skippable fluff, he wanted me to clear out a fort of Godrick's soldiers. Usually, I just kill him, loot his corpse, and move on.'
Marika turned to him slowly with a blank, unimpressed expression, the tapping of her fingers stopping entirely. Her eyes bore into him.
Tarnished scratched the back of his neck, giving her an awkward grin as he looked away toward the girls, mumbling under his breath. "It was efficient…"
Still ignoring the disapproving goddess hovering beside him, he motioned silently to Melina and Millicent, whispering for them to let him handle this encounter.
Melina gave a small shrug of apathy and gestured for him to proceed. Millicent tilted her head in curiosity, clearly intrigued by what he was about to do.
Tarnished quietly leapt down from the ledge onto the massive arched ruins where Kenneth stood, his plated boots echoing loudly against the cracked marble. Kenneth turned with a jolt at the noise, eyes going wide as he caught sight of the imposing armor worn by the Tarnished—blackened, intimidating, unmistakably part of the dreaded Night's Cavalry set.
His face paled.
"A-A Night's Cavalry?!" Kenneth gasped, stumbling backward a step at standing before a man who presumably was one of the most elite soldiers working under the Demigod and veiled Monarch of the capital of the Lands Between, Lyendell: Morgott, the Grace Given."H-Here?! In Limgrave?!"
He cleared his throat and rapidly attempted to compose himself. "Ahem… excuse me. I, Kenneth Haight, humbly welcome thee!"
He fell to his knees, clasping his hands together in desperate pleading. "My fort, my ancestral home, it has been overtaken by traitors! My own men have turned against me and now serve that tyrant Godrick! I beg of thee, O' noble knight, help me reclaim what was stolen! My people need me!"
Tarnished smiled, a dazzling, chivalrous grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Fear not, Lord Haight. For justice and chivalry are my sworn companions. I shall see to it your fort is returned, and your honor restored."
"Oh, bless you!" Kenneth exclaimed, rising to his feet, nearly moved to tears. "You are truly a beacon of hope! I knew the Erdtree would send someone noble-!"
Thunk!
A clean, practiced chop to the back of the neck.
Kenneth's eyes rolled up in his skull, and he slumped to the ground in a heap with a pathetic squeak, unconscious before he even understood what had happened.
Tarnished sighed, standing over the collapsed nobleman with arms crossed. "I swear to Marika, he talks too much."
Melina and Millicent stood in stunned silence for a beat, staring down at the unconscious nobleman slumped unceremoniously at Tarnished's feet. Kenneth let out a soft, almost comedic groan, but didn't stir.
Melina's eyes narrowed. "Did you really just knock him unconscious?"
"Of course I did," Tarnished said flatly, brushing his gauntlet off on his leg. "What? The guy's a prick. You heard him! His voice alone lowered my IQ. And come on, I know he's got good loot on him. Now, are you gonna help me loot him, or are you both gonna be lame?"
Millicent blinked once, then broke into a mischievous grin. "I mean… I kinda want to see what he's got."
"Millicent!" Melina scolded as the girl skipped over to Tarnished, already crouching beside him. "Don't encourage his nonsense!"
But the red-haired girl was already digging around in Kenneth's lavishly embroidered robes, giggling to herself with growing excitement.
Marika, still lounging above them on her cloud of Grace, merely rolled her eyes and muttered. "He corrupteth my granddaughter with thievery and lawlessness… Gods preserve me."
She paused, then tilted her head. "…Granddaughter. Hm. That word tastes odd upon the tongue…"
Tarnished suppressed a laugh as he rummaged in the nobleman's side pouch, only half-listening as Millicent gasped suddenly and held something up.
"Ooooh! Look, look!" she said excitedly, holding out a faintly glowing Golden Seed in her palm. "This one's important, right?"
Tarnished's brows lifted. "That's very good. Nice work."
She beamed proudly and went back to scavenging, humming to herself as Tarnished pulled free an Erdsteel Dagger from Kenneth's belt. The blade shimmered faintly with a divine sheen, its balance immaculate, its design subtle but elegant. He admired it for a moment, giving it a few test flips in his hand.
Then he looked up to find Melina approaching, her arms folded and her expression pure disapproval. The way she stood, with one hand on her hip and her foot tapping lightly, made her look exactly like someone else he knew.
"…You're practically your mother's twin, you know that?" he muttered with a smirk.
Melina's brow twitched.
Unfazed, Tarnished held the dagger up between them. "Here. This looks Faith-attuned. Just like the one you already use. Figured you could dual wield?"
Melina looked at him like he had offered her a rotting goat carcass. "You want me to wield stolen weapons?"
"I mean, it's not like he was using it," Tarnished replied with a shrug. "Besides, you'd look good with one in each hand."
They locked eyes. Hers, cold and judging. His, molten azure gold and filled with amusement.
Several seconds of silent warfare passed.
She finally exhaled through her nose, snatched the dagger from his hand, and muttered something about "annoying but not entirely wrong."
Tarnished grinned in triumph.
"See? I knew the aesthetic would win you over."
From beside him, Millicent made a small noise of disappointment. "Aw… I wanna dual wield daggers too. But… I only have one hand."
Tarnished blinked and turned to her, his smugness instantly replaced by warmth. "Hey, don't worry about that."
He crouched beside her, gently tapping her shoulder. "You don't need two arms to be cool. You've got precision, instincts, and a will strong enough to spit in the face of the Scarlet Rot. That's already more badass than most knights I've met."
Millicent's eyes sparkled, but she still fidgeted a little with her sleeve. "Thanks… That means a lot. I just… I kind of remember how it felt to hold a sword in my other hand. Muscle memory, I think. It felt right. Better."
Tarnished nodded thoughtfully. "Then we'll get it back."
She looked up at him in surprise.
"One way or another, we'll find a way to fix what the rot took. Or make something new for you. A blade forged for your hand, however many you have. Sound good?"
Her cheeks flushed with a shy, happy smile, and she nodded. "That… would be amazing."
Behind them, Marika watched silently, her stern expression softening just slightly.
Tarnished straightened up and led the two women down the long, moss-covered archway that stretched across the clearing like the spine of a fallen giant. His boots clinked softly with each step across the ancient stone, his mind wandering ahead of his feet.
He thought back to the Shaded Castle, nestled deep in the murk of the Altus Plateau. Half-sunken in poison and half-forgotten in time, it had once been home to a knightly order that dabbled in some rather creative forms of preservation and prosthesis.
"You know," he began, glancing back at Millicent with a tilt of his head, "Your mother, Malenia, was missing an arm too. Yet she still became a Demigod. She rose to her status with nothing but grit, a prosthetic, and the will to never stop fighting."
Millicent's eyes lit up. She stepped quickly to match his pace, her gaze focused and filled with growing hope. "Do you think… we could find one like hers? A prosthetic?"
"Maybe," he replied, not wanting to admit he knew exactly where to find her an arm just yet. "There might be something we could find eventually. Or something we can repurpose. We'll find a way, Millicent."
She smiled wide at the thought, falling in beside him while Melina walked just behind, silent and thoughtful.
After a beat, Millicent leaned closer, raising her hand to gently poke his side and whisper, "Speaking of Demigods.. You told me before about Marika. That she's my… Grandmother? Gods, that's weird to say out loud. But... Could you tell me more about her? Please?"
Tarnished chuckled and instinctively looked upward. And there she was, golden and smirking, reclining lazily on a drifting wisp of Grace overhead. Her sharp eyes glinted with amusement, clearly listening in.
Melina subtly moved closer too, her interest quietly piqued. For all her knowledge, even she had to admit her understanding of her mother was fractured at best. And given that Tarnished literally shared a mind with Marika, well… who better to ask?
As the path wound into the trees, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in golden streaks, Tarnished finally spoke.
And not in the way they expected.
He didn't describe a Goddess.
He described a woman.
"She's… sharp. Scary smart, honestly," he began with a faint smile. "There's something in the way she speaks… Heh.. It's like she already knows how you'll answer before you say a word. She doesn't just understand the world… she reads it."
He walked a little slower now, his voice low and honest.
"She's wise too. Helped me more times than I can count. Sometimes with words, sometimes just by being there. When I was unsure, or when the weight of all this felt too damn much, she was the one who kept me standing."
His hand gestured vaguely. "Her humor's... dry. Arrogant, sometimes. But when it lands, it really lands. And the way she carries herself? It's like... every step she takes could command an army. There's grace in it, unshakably."
He chuckled again, softer this time. "And yeah. She's beautiful. Not just the whole 'glowing divine body' thing. Just… being her. That's enough."
He paused, the path ahead quiet save for the breeze through the trees.
"I don't know. It's weird. It's been only days, but it feels like I've known her forever."
Melina blinked slowly. She had expected reverence, perhaps cold duty. Not that. Not something so warm. She glanced away, unsure of what to say.
"…That answer is exactly what I should've expected from you by now…" She said softly, not quite able to hide her smile.
Millicent, meanwhile, looked like someone had handed her the world. Her eyes sparkled, her steps lighter.
"She sounds amazing," she said, clasping her one hand over her chest. "I can't wait to meet her. You said you're going to free her, right?"
Tarnished just nodded. "One step at a time."
Oddly, Marika had vanished partway through his words, no longer visible on her perch of Grace. He didn't mention it. If she wanted privacy, she could have it. He'd never lie about her, not to them. Not even if it made him look foolish.
Unseen by any of them, deep within the inner recesses of his mind, Marika sat frozen on her throne of gold and light. Her legs tucked beneath her, her golden hair cascading down her shoulders, her expression unreadable.
No one had ever described her like that before.
Not as a weapon. Not as a symbol. Not as a Goddess.
But as her.
"…What an annoying bastard thou art, mine champion." She whispered, her voice hollow with disbelief. And yet, there was no venom in it.
Back in the waking world, Tarnished pressed forward. The trees parted slowly, giving way to a familiar path. It was a hidden grove of old stone and hallowed memory. He led them without hesitation toward their next stop.
The Third Church of Marika.
They stepped through the treeline, and what awaited them was… not what he expected.
The church was whole.
Mostly, anyway. Its patched roof and fortified beams told the story of a restoration done by common hands, not divine miracle. The grass was trimmed. Offerings had been left near the altar. Lanterns hung along the archway.
This place felt lived in.
Millicent looked around, wide-eyed. Melina's expression was more reserved, but equally curious.
Tarnished, on the other hand, muttered under his breath as he stared up at the modest cathedral.
"…Well. This oughta be interesting."
The inside of the Third Church of Marika was... peaceful.
That was the word that came to mind as Tarnished stepped in first, boots echoing softly across the stone floor. The air was cool and clean, lit not by Grace, but by the gentle flicker of candles scattered across the walls and the shafts of natural light pouring in through the tall stained glass windows.
Millicent's breath hitched. Melina paused in the doorway.
Their eyes were drawn forward, where the refurbished statue of Marika stood tall in reverence at the far end of the church. It gleamed softly in the light, its features polished with care. At its base was a shrine, lovingly arranged.
A small Sacred Tear rested at its heart, surrounded by faded flowers, wooden charms, trinkets, and offerings of dried herbs. Even after centuries... there were still those who came here. Still those who remembered her.
Tarnished let out a low whistle. "Huh. Not bad for a relic of the past," he muttered, slowly approaching the statue. Melina and Millicent split off behind him, inspecting opposite wings of the church.
When he reached the shrine, he knelt and gently retrieved the Sacred Tear, tucking it away while leaving the rest untouched. He bowed his head slightly, out of respect more than faith, and turned from the statue to explore the other end of the L-shaped sanctuary.
It was there, tucked between the natural embrace of Erdtree roots, that he found what he was looking for. A cradle-shaped alcove, formed naturally over time and imbued with a quiet sacredness. Nestled inside it were two objects: a Crimson Crystal Tear, and a Flask of Wondrous Physick, its glass faintly glowing with potential.
He picked them up gently, glancing back once toward the statue before walking toward the Site of Grace in the church's center.
The air shimmered around it as he activated it with a touch. The moment he sat down, the golden light of the Grace enveloped him and his system interface flickered to life, spectral and clean.
[FLASK OF WONDROUS PHYSICK – MIX CONFIGURATION]
Opaline Hardtear – Boosts all damage negation for a time. Ideal for sudden enemy bursts or heavy blows.
Stonebarb Cracked Tear – Enhances poise damage dealt, making enemy stance breaking far easier.
With a small smirk, he equipped both, letting them fuse inside the new flask with a shimmer of alchemical light.
He flicked over to another menu, pulling out his six Golden Seeds, the result of long travel and occasional thievery. Four found in the wild, one gifted by Roderika that very morning, and the last... plucked unceremoniously from Kenneth Haight's unconscious robes.
He then retrieved the two Sacred Tears he had collected: one from this church, and another from an earlier stop.
Setting all ten items in front of the Grace, he closed his eyes.
The Grace pulsed and surged. The items dissolved into it like embers, and a system prompt slid into view.
[FLASK UPGRADE COMPLETE]
Crimson Flask +2 – Increased HP recovery x2
Cerulean Flask +2 – Increased FP recovery x2
Flask Usage Allotment: 4 Crimson | 4 Cerulean
He nodded to himself, satisfied. Four swigs for each. Just the right balance, for someone who might share healing with a spiritual companion and fuel draconic incantations in battle alike. He knew he could rely on Melina for healing, so it felt right to carry more Mana restoration.
He rose to his feet, dusting his palms off and turning toward the church's wings.
"Alright, ladies," he called. "Pack it up. We're heading out-"
The doors creaked open behind them, groaning on ancient hinges.
They all turned.
An old woman stood there, bent slightly by time but dressed in clean peasant's clothing. A woven basket of offerings hung from her arms, filled with dried lavender, carved charms, and folded cloth pouches likely filled with spice or powdered root.
She blinked in surprise, then gasped.
"O-oh my! Visitors?" Her voice was raspy, but sweet. "Bless the Erdtree's mercy. It's been... goodness, years since anyone's come to pray here outside our village."
She stepped inside slowly, gazing at the three with watery eyes full of reverence. "Adventurers, are you? Come to offer worship to the old gods and give thanks at this sacred house?"
Tarnished exchanged a quick glance with Melina and Millicent. Melina offered a polite nod, and Millicent bowed slightly, respectful despite her youth.
Tarnished? He smiled gently and stepped forward.
"Well, we're certainly not here to desecrate it, ma'am."
She chuckled softly, easing down onto one of the pews with a heavy sigh. "That's more than I can say for the last lot of warriors to come through. You'd be surprised what some call reverence these days."
He tilted his head, curious. "You the one taking care of this place?"
She nodded proudly. "Oh, yes. Lots of people in our town help with it. We live just by the woods there in our village. Always felt like... someone had to keep this place clean. The Lady Marika may be gone, but she's not forgotten. Not in this corner of Limgrave."
Marika, invisible but listening, felt a strange pang in her chest at that.
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Stones, please.
Author's Note:
There's gotta be somewhere for all the people to go, no? You're all about to see another one of them.
Also, was that our Goddess feeling something for her Champion?
How scandalous~
I wonder how this will develop eventually~
…
Next Chapter Title: "Just John."
…
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