Dawn's pale light filters through the jagged ceiling of the 29th floor as we break camp. Carmine is already stirring, rubbing her arms against the chill. I drape my bear-pelt cloak around her shoulders before she even notices, the familiar weight of its rugged warmth grounding me in this strange new world.
She glances up, eyes bright despite fatigue. "You mentioned Leyndell," she says softly. "I know that you said all i needed to know about the place was that you hated it but i really am curious so Pleeeeease~, What's it like?" she said in a half asleep and a tone frankly too adorable to entirely resist.
I shift beside her, as we begin on our trek into higher floors. Normally I keep my words tight, but something in her, not just her adorable mannerisms just after waking but also her genuine curiosity- loosens my tongue. "Well though i was born in Leyndell, the place I hail from is known as the lands between."
She tilts her head curiously"the lands between what?"
He chuckles "the lands between, across the fog, don't read to deeply into it, that's not the important part." he inhales deeply for a moment then exhales through his nose, his golden eyes seemingly seeing a place invisible to the rest of them.
"Imagine, for a moment a land of soaring mountains and sheer cliffs," he bagan. "Endless hills of wild grass rolling into fertile plains littered with ruins older than memory. Limgrave. Lorded previously Godrick the grafted, a disappointment to not only his people but his very lineage, someone i'm ashamed to say I share a not distant enough blood relationship with, he was my nephew before I tore his beating heart out of his horrid chimeric for, you see-" Carmine blinked at that but said nothing yet
"Now imagine for a moment, vast mirror-like waters rest undisturbed by the strange amphibious demi-humans who call it home, half-sunk ruines whose origin is lost to time and the tides of a seemingly still marshland, the Liurnia of the Lakes it was called. The Academy of Raya Lucaria once crowned a peninsula here, its spires of blue stone reaching for the sky. Ghostly trees stand half-submerged in the flooded woodlands, and at night the moonlight turns the whole lake into a sea of liquid silver the likes of which could never be seen anywhere else, in this astral mirror the Scholars of Raya Lucaria would ponder the mysteries of the stars-"
"Drift south in your mind to a place where a black-stone Castle bears down over the landscape with its colossal stone guardians powered by flame, largest moving thing you would ever see in your entire life, if you aren't a veteran of the fire giant wars of course, Castle Morne stands atop the sea-eroded cliffs of the Weeping Peninsula. Storms lash its crumbling battlements, and the ever-present mist from crashing waves fills the air with brine. Look out to the tidal flats beyond- muddy expanses that are swallowed by the sea twice each day, and watchtower ruins leaning over the yawning void of the depths below-"
"Higher still, fields of wheat that glow under the Erdtree's light, the largest living thing any place of any time, there is not contest or argument to it's sheer ginormous majesty despite my disposal of it's worshipers and patron god, the Altus Plateau's golden plains. Massive stone arches lay about, Leyndell's ancient border gates- mark the way into the capital city. There, gilded towers bear the scars of countless sieges, and the Erdtree itself looms above the Grand Cloister, its candles of light drifting like embers across the sky, illuminating the corpse of a true dragon far too massive to even consider moving, it rests in the center of the city, a grim monument to the power of the golden order-"
"Above the plateau rise the Giants' Mountaintops, where snow and ice wrap jagged peaks in bone-white and frigid silence, the kind that comes in the aftermath of a genocide. The air here is thin and biting; only the hardiest can endure. Once, I marched through the Siege-Mountain Pass, battling the Flame-Faithful in brimstone-scorched valleys, the roar of avalanches caused by mighty battles among true giants echoing like war drums-"
"Farum Azula stands next in my memory—a time-torn fortress adrift sent on cracked floating stone held up by the storm ruler itself after forces unknown tore the dragons from their seat of power, a 5 headed dragon beyond the reach of time itself. Its towers shattered across a sea of blasted rock, the very clothing that covers my decency originated from that time, a dragon wrathfully morning the loss of it's power and home, my first glorious battle against a true dragon who's scales were black as night and whom wielded sharp red bolts of thunder far with far more fury than the fire of it's gullet-"
"Then there was Rykard's volcanic realm, a wasteland of ash and fire crowned by Volcano Manor. Praetor Rykard's twisted vineyards grew from scorched earth, fermenting in magma-heated vats. The wine he produced was both intoxicating and cursed, a legacy of the serpent-god's shadow over the land, before he threw himself to the serpent, me and that bastard had a decent thing going, i bring him exotic ingredients, he shares with me exotic wines, shame he was so fucking daft-"
"I remember Caelid, a land of sweltering breezes and sunlit dunes, ruled by my brother Radahn. Fields of wildflowers in sparse oases swayed under blood-red sunsets, and knights jousted in the Festival of the Ball. That kingdom was a testament to his might and honor-"
"Carmine, to me, Radahn was more than a brother- he was my greatest friend. They called him the Conqueror of the stars; he bent meteor-wrought-iron into javelins that rained down with more fury than shooting stars. We day and night in our spars driven by a love for intense battle, his laughter ringing over the clash of his blades against my knuckles as he held up the sky itself, he was the strongest man I ever knew, in body and spirit."
"But when my sister, Malenia's scarlet rot, a plague like no other which could infect the very soil you stood on, spread through the Scarlet Aeonia's bloom while Radahn waged his final stand at Caelid's gates against her, the coward ran after defieling his home for miles around and still claimed to be undefeated. He bore the sky's weight upon his shoulders, his magic holding up the heavens even in battle as he lost his mind to the insidious pestilence. I returned too late, off in the badlands where i learned to wield my body as a true weapon like my father, finding only the broken remains of their two armies and a lone survivor who hid in a cave who told me of the happenings of that wretched day-" My hands grip tightly, the baleful power of my linage nearly leaking through my skin in my wrathful recollection of that whore's cowardice. Carmine's fingers tighten around my arm and i turn my eyes to her beautiful warm face. Her eyes search mine, and I realize I have bared too much pain. She squeezes my arm once, then offers a small, mournful smile. "I'm sorry for your loss."
She produces a large cask of dark wine- a vintage from the Soma familia's own vineyards, she says- and pours two cups. The first sip is sharp and sweet, warmed by the memory of late-night toasts I once shared with Praetor Rykard himself, they were similar wines, this one and that one, before his mind cracked under the god devouring the serpent's whispers. His wines, crafted from the rarest fruits I carried on my nomadic path, were the finest in any realm.
For a while, we drink in companionable silence, trading stories of harvests and battles, letting the wine soothe regrets made fresh from the grave memories we dug up in our musings.
As the last drops spill from our cups, Carmine leans against my chest, despite her rather large stature she still comparatively would almost look like a child wer it not for her particular brand of voluptuous allure, cheeks flush, eyes fluttering closed. I drape the bear pelt over her shoulders once more and sit upright, Arson curled at my feet, the fire's glow flickering on her peaceful face.
Behind me, I feel a different heat. Daz's presence is a cold burn- his glower sharper than any blade. He watches us with un-hidden dagger-sharp eyes, his hand twitching near his belt. I don't need to turn to know what waits when we awaken.
Tomorrow he'll try.
But I am not afraid. A desperate man with rancid envy and no skill in the arts of shadows poses no threat to me. Let him make his move. I will deal with him by dawn's light- after a much-needed rest.