Hestia was still alive; that much was certain. Her body was recovering slowly, caught between the Flasks of Crimson Tears that were nearly spent and the golden Grace bathing her form. She could barely hear the faint murmur of familiar voices. However, her mind had escaped that place.
She fled from that cruel and frustrating reality that had crushed her. But now, she found herself in an unexpected place: a wasteland, bleak and somber.
Everything surrounding Hestia was sand. Sand stretching further than her eyes could reach. But something else overwhelmed her: a dark sky, adorned with streaks of strange colors. They didn't seem to be mere clouds; they were like those trails of strange light that appeared at night to the north of her native Eochaid.
"What is this supposed to be?" Hestia wondered aloud. "These auroras... do they form an eye?"
Then, something else caught her attention: there were objects buried in the sand. They were weapons—golden weapons. The spoils of some war that might have been fought there.
Something pulled Hestia from her thoughts. She felt the thunderous crash of something falling. She looked directly at what had appeared. An imposing, strange creature, known only through tales and stories that, to the people of her home, were regarded as mere fantasy.
The creature—burly, imposing, and threatening—seemed to wear plate armor, slightly golden, along with a helm that didn't allow its features to be fully seen. Its animal half was that of a sturdy beast, leaving no room for doubt: this was an unstoppable enemy.
But one detail Hestia could not ignore, and which held her attention longest, was that this Centaur wielded a massive weapon—a hybrid of a halberd with a straight blade, like that of a heavy and brutal sword.
"This..." Hestia gasped in surprise. "This is a Centaur!"
Hestia's words, as far away as she seemed to be from the creature, caught its attention. Its gaze wasn't clearly recognizable, but its body spoke for it.
A slight movement of its front legs, like a horse preparing to sprint at full speed. Suddenly, it approached with unheard-of velocity. A golden trail was left on the ground with every stride the Centaur took.
Hestia dodged as best she could with a powerful leap away from the stampede heading toward her. Her right foot stepped upon a series of golden cracks. She retreated again, only to see them explode.
"Shit!" Hestia shouted, searching for the beast with her gaze.
There it came again. There was no room to stop, breathe, or think about the next move. Hestia simply used all her will, reflexes, and agility. She tried to imitate Mitranis's grace in movement. And it seemed she was imitating it well.
However, she saw that strange golden trail on the ground again, beneath her feet. Now it covered an immense area, and it seemed ready to burst once more. The woman closed her eyes and attempted a backflip.
Hestia managed to escape the brunt of that explosion of golden aura. But the remaining energy expelled her away. Part of this was intentional, as she used the force to repel some of the damage, just as she had learned from watching Mitranis. Even having repelled the attack, Hestia felt a ringing in her ears due to the power of the impacts.
Suddenly and without warning, she saw the creature approaching. Hestia retreated. Where she had just stood, the Centaur stopped and gripped its weapon firmly. A golden aura began to shroud it. Golden halos appeared, surrounding it, which told Hestia that her enemy was preparing another brutal attack. A trail appeared beneath her once more. Shit, Hestia thought, suspecting this attack would not be easy to avoid.
Then, she heard a crash. It wasn't from a physical impact or an object striking the creature. It was a war cry, a sort of roar. She looked to the side to see an imposing, burly figure appearing like a blurred shadow that suddenly became flesh.
It was a man dressed in strange leather armor. He had a profuse white beard and a massive, powerful frame, despite appearing to be a middle-aged man. Most striking of all was a helm shaped like an animal skull—or rather, an actual animal skull used as a helm.
Just as Hestia had seen Bernahl do before, the man anchored himself in the sand with his right foot, bending his knee. He readied his right fist while roaring again. That strike wasn't a direct impact, fist against flesh. It was a wave. A shockwave of distorted air that slammed into the Centaur.
The attack the creature was preparing was thus interrupted. The gold cracked, and the halos of the same essence vanished.
There wasn't a moment for Hestia to recover or wonder what was happening. A voice rose.
"Young lady!" the man exclaimed, his voice intense, deep, and raspy. "I know you're in a tough spot, but I won't be able to fight Fulghor alone. I need you to assist me!"
Hestia stood up, keeping her eyes fixed on that sturdy, burly man. Even though he said he couldn't defeat that Champion, called Fulghor, by himself, his strike had destabilized the enemy.
"Hestia, at your service," she said, gripping her sword tightly with both hands, ready to fight.
"Raider; the pleasure is mine," he replied, already seeing the enemy regaining its balance.
Both retreated in opposite directions. It felt natural to devise this strategy: each taking one of Fulghor's flanks. Even though she was fighting alongside an ally, the strength she had amassed by her own means in the Lands Between was no longer enough; she would have to rely on that detestable talent.
Then, Hestia made her Carian sword glow in that scarlet hue. Thin, thorn-filled branches began to sprout from her fingertips, creeping toward her wrists. Her eyes became bloodshot, and her face grew tense, almost unrecognizable.
"Let's go, Raider!" the woman shouted, as if she had known her ally forever.
"That's the spirit, young lady!" he replied, spirit in his voice.
Then, both lunged at Fulghor. Hestia approached first at a rapid pace, dodging the lateral sweep of Fulghor's massive weapon. Hestia's role was to attack the enemy's forelegs, while Raider used his colossal weapon—a sort of massive axe—to contain the enemy's attacks as much as possible.
"Good choice, Hestia!" Raider cheered, seeing the girl cut the area behind one of Fulghor's knees.
"We have to do this fast!" she retorted, trying to do the same to another leg.
However, Fulghor would not grant Hestia that privilege. The way the enemy began to brandish its weapon—spinning it and lunging in several directions—left little room to get close. It was best to distract it. Hestia would keep running to find Fulghor's weak points while Raider faced him head-on.
"Let's try to face him at the same time now," Hestia proposed, her voice a sort of deeper growl than expected. It was a sign of the effort required to use the dancing blade.
"Agreed!"
The shift was favorable. Fulghor already showed signs of confusion or fatigue, though the same could be said for Hestia and Raider. But there might be hope to end this battle soon. That would have been the case if things hadn't taken such a surprising turn.
Hestia had already seen her enemy jump. However, as Fulghor prepared to leap, she heard her ally curse. That wasn't good. Not because Raider cursed—he seemed like the type to do so all the time—but the timing was what mattered.
Without a second thought, Hestia prepared to jump back. She felt Raider pull her toward him.
"What is wrong with you!" the woman shouted, questioning the action.
Raider's response was not in words but with another roar. This time, he pulled out a sort of dagger and gripped it tightly with his left hand. He raised it while roaring, then plunged it into the sand.
Instantly, Hestia closed her eyes, bracing for a blow. She thought she had felt the full power of Fulghor falling upon her, but upon opening her eyes an instant later, she found herself high up, looking down at her enemy. It seemed Raider had created a sort of rock mound by plunging his dagger into the sand. It was reckless.
As reckless as what Raider had done was what Hestia saw from above: until seconds ago, Fulghor had only one arm. Now, it had two, and one of them exuded that horrendous dark miasma she had seen among gravestones and Deathroot.
"What the hell is that dark thing?" Hestia asked, dismayed, looking down at Raider.
"I'm no scholar of these things," Raider replied as he finished climbing the monolith, "but it's the work of the Night Lord. Call it the Night Tide, or whatever."
"I've seen this thing before," Hestia retorted, feeling that if she kept thinking too much about it, she wouldn't be able to rejoin the battle in time. "No matter; I'll use Glintstone magic from here."
Hestia pulled out her Glintstone staff immediately, beginning to attack and confuse Fulghor with a series of rapid Pebbles aimed straight at its face. It would be like a swarm of flies blurring its vision.
"That's the attitude, girl!" Raider cheered as he jumped with all his might from the top of that rock.
The warrior's attack was aimed directly at the arm covered in Night Tide. Fulghor's reaction, almost instinctive, prevented Raider from claiming the cursed limb. Despite the confusion caused by Hestia's Glintstone magic, the enemy was skilled and its reflexes remained sharp.
Hestia thought she should climb down from the mound, but she continued using her sorcery. I'm playing it safe here. That can't happen, the woman thought, gripping her staff. She understood the reason: she was afraid. Another surprising, mysterious, terrifying thing... just like the dragon head Godrick used as a limb.
"Enough!" she suddenly shouted, alerting Raider.
"Young lady..." he looked back, only to receive a surprise attack from Fulghor, which he fortunately barely managed to block.
Raider rolled in the sand, trying to dissipate the impact of the blow from Fulghor's cursed arm. He saw the girl now falling onto the sand, landing on one knee and standing up quickly.
"Don't go fighting alone!" Raider shouted, warning Hestia.
But the redhead didn't respond. She gripped her Carian sword with both hands again, making it glow in that scarlet tone once more. However, something changed now. The hue turned purple. She raised the Carian sword above her head and charged an attack further. The idea was idiotic, especially since Fulghor was approaching her at a rapid pace.
"Eat this, bastard!" Hestia screamed, performing a downward slash with her sword.
The attack was familiar to those who knew the arts of the Carian Knights. The downward slash after charging a massive amount of magic into the sword: Carian Grandeur. But now, Hestia didn't use only Carian sorcery. She used the magic of Eochaid. She used the art of the dancing blade, that of ascetics like Elemer.
This allowed the reach of the attack to be much greater than what Fulghor—and Raider, for that matter—could have projected. Hestia let go of the sword to project it far as part of her new art, and it managed to reach the limb covered in the Night Tide, tearing it off completely.
"It's now or never, Raider!" Hestia gave the order for her ally to rejoin.
The order wasn't necessary, but it was a good rallying cry. Raider roared again and prepared his potent punch, projecting a shockwave that further unbalanced the Champion, following how much Hestia's slash had decomposed its stance.
Meanwhile, she had recovered her sword after it returned from its dance. She swapped it for her staff and began to summon Loretta's Greatbow. Raider looked sideways at the woman, understanding her intention. But with how fast Fulghor was, it would be difficult to hit its head with that Glintstone arrow attack.
So Raider would give Hestia an opening. He used all his determination, concentrating on a firm pose. Then, he dedicated himself to lunging with his colossal weapon at Fulghor again and again to make it lose its stance. It wasn't easy. The beast was enraged despite the recent setback. Its attacks were relentless, and Raider could feel every one of his bones aching as he blocked the Night Lord's atrocious attacks with his weapon.
But he did not falter and was able to give Hestia the space she required. Flicking his weapon upward at the exact right moment, Raider canceled Fulghor's attack and left its chest exposed. Then, the magic bolts impacted Fulghor in the blink of an eye. The shriek it let out made the ground vibrate as it lost its balance, never letting go of its weapon.
Even when Raider delivered the finishing blow with his colossal weapon, smashing Fulghor's head, it did not let go of its weapon. Thus, the enemy remained kneeling on its forelegs, slumped, its head destroyed and blood pouring from it and its chest, as well as dark miasma.
And still, as it disappeared like dust, Fulghor never let go of its weapon.
Seeing the battle end, Hestia collapsed into the sand, sitting down and panting from exhaustion. Raider was leaning on his colossal weapon. The man looked at the girl and let out a whistle to emphasize how tiring the battle had been.
The man's laughter was infectious; that was something Hestia had to admit. Both looked at each other with a satisfied smile—the smile of a damnably difficult job well done. The woman stood up as best she could, only to see sand falling from her palms.
"Ah... I'm disappearing, it seems," Hestia said, looking at Raider.
"That's right, young lady," Raider replied with a fraternal smile. "You haven't appeared before as one of the Nightfarers, those who defeat the Night Lords like Fulghor. I hope we fight side by side again... or just have a drink."
"The drink sounds good, haha," Hestia replied, letting out a light, tired laugh. "Whenever possible, you can count on this Tarnished."
"Tarnished... Marika's tits!" Raider exclaimed, now dismayed. "So you are a Tarnished! Don't come to this world again, then! There is no Elden Ring here, no Tarnished, nothing! The Night devoured it all!"
Hestia thought she understood what Raider was saying. Only halfway. She understood up to the part where he said she shouldn't return to that world. The bit about Marika's tits was funny, regardless. But as Hestia was already disappearing, the last thing she could notice on Raider's face was concern. And furthermore, she could read a bit of what the man was articulating. No Elden Ring? Did Raider say something like that? It was uncertain. But Hestia couldn't think much more.
A few moments later, Hestia came to. She opened her eyes and could see the ceiling of what appeared to be Godrick's fortress, in the corridors near the courtyard in front of the throne room—the place where they had just fought the Demigod.
The woman sat up slowly, looking around. She could see Melina on her right side. The maiden was calm, looking at Hestia firmly and contemplatively with her single eye. The gaze that was neither calm nor reassuring was from the one standing before the redhead.
"You're awake, finally." Mitranis was kneeling in front of Hestia.
"I should have died, shouldn't I?" Hestia asked, her gaze dull and an almost self-pitying smile on her face.
"What matters is that you're alive, Hestia," Mitranis replied, taking the woman's hands in his. He wouldn't have even expected to do that himself.
And because of the surprising nature of his act, Hestia didn't understand it either, so she pulled away from Mitranis. It wasn't cruel, but it wasn't kind either. She was still stupefied by everything. Especially by that strange dream. So potent and palpable at the same time. That fight alongside Raider, against that terrible creature called Fulghor.
"So... you won, Mitranis," Hestia said, looking at her ally with a completely fake smile.
"I don't quite understand how it happened, but... yes."
Neither of them seemed at all satisfied with that triumph. The woman had virtually died in battle. Mitranis won, but in a way he didn't even understand.
But in both, their strengths were being released in contradictory ways deep within. Enormous yet fearsome potential. The path toward an internal battle for Hestia and Mitranis was only just beginning.