Bidding farewell to Sellen, the Tarnished officially stepped onto the path toward Liurnia of the Lakes. He didn't know much about this region; his memories consisted of wandering through its mists ages ago and getting into countless scuffles with the local sorcerers.
Back then, whether they belonged to the Academy or the Carian Royal Family, sorcerers weren't exactly easy to talk to. They were obsessed with their celestial systems, and the infighting between rival schools was as common as the grass. It wasn't until a woman named Rennala suppressed both factions with absolute power that Liurnia found a semblance of peace. But sorcerers only ever truly believe in their own "Truths." Even Rennala's strength couldn't extinguish the embers of their ambition.
"Sorcerers and their bickering... so tedious," the Tarnished muttered as he walked through the throne room where Godrick had recently fallen. In his eyes, their conflicts were always about "principles" and "lineages." But under the same vast canopy, did the stars and the moon truly care about the difference?
The most direct route to Liurnia lay through the back of Stormveil. As he entered the narrow cliffside tunnel, he felt the temperature rise several degrees.
"I didn't take a wrong turn, did I? This is Liurnia, not Mt. Gelmir..." He narrowed his eyes, searching for the heat source. In a dark corner, he found an orange-yellow sphere.
The Tarnished's expression darkened. The object was the size of a large grape, its surface peeling and sticky, oozing a viscous fluid. But any sane person could see it wasn't fruit.
It was a rotting eyeball.
"What is this foul thing?" He touched it; it felt wet and feverish. "The scent is like Kalé... come to think of it, I didn't see Kalé's eyes this time under that hat."
He stood up and crushed the "grape" under his boot with a sickening squelch. Something was very wrong. In the Lands Between, eyes were sacred. Every Great Power manifested through them: the Golden Pupils of Grace, the Gloam Eyes of the Queen, the One Eye of the Fire Giant. Even gathered Runes formed the shape of a pupil. Blindness or rotting eyes signified a corruption of the soul's power.
As the "grape" burst, a soul-shattering shriek echoed through the tunnel.
"What in the—!" The scream vibrated in his skull, followed by disjointed, frantic whispers.
The Tarnished sat cross-legged, closing his eyes to enter a state of "Void." He stilled his mind, letting the chaotic whispers wash over him until they eventually faded into silence.
"No wonder Melina was so wary... this stuff is pure madness." He stood up. Ahead, the exit beckoned, spilling the distinct, cool light of Liurnia into the tunnel.
"The colors of the stars... it's a completely different world from Limgrave."
In his memory, Liurnia was a land of eternal dusk. While the stars weren't as numerous as they once were, a few still glittered with a faint, haunting light. But as he looked up, he noticed a jarring detail.
"Wait. Why aren't the stars moving?"
The sky looked like a frozen painting. The celestial clock had been forcibly stopped. The Tarnished sighed. This broken world... it's all falling apart. He pushed forward, his primary goal now the Glintstone Dragon, Smarag. He also suspected the second half of the Dectus Medallion might be hidden in Caelid, but that was a problem for later.
Clang!
"Lanya! You... you're really here! What are these monsters?!"
"I-I don't know! I got separated from you, Diallos, and then these things surrounded me!" A woman's voice, thick with tears, cried out.
"You foolish woman! There are too many of them... Run! Just run!"
The man's voice—Diallos—cracked with terror. Surrounding them were small, hunched figures squatting atop spectral horses. They were spirits, ringing bells that launched projectiles of sickly yellow-black light.
"Get back!" Diallos swung a whip frantically. His form was sloppy, his breathing ragged. He was terrified, yet he stood his ground.
"Diallos!" Lanya cried. She looked devastated, blaming herself for her habit of wandering off.
"Go, Lanya! Someone once told me to do my duty as a Lord... I'm a failure, I'm nothing compared to my brother... but I don't want you to die! RUN!"
Lanya was sobbing too hard to move when a low, amused voice drifted from behind her.
"A decent sentiment. But the execution? Lacking. Watch closely: this is how a warrior fights."
The Tarnished appeared like a ghost. Diallos spun around to find the enemies behind them already gone. The Tarnished dropped into a low stance, drew his curved blade, and in a single, fluid blur, cleaved through the bell-ringers that were about to end Diallos's life.
"Y-You..."
"Shh," the Tarnished signaled for silence. "The fight isn't over. Keep your guard up."
A golden-black circle manifested on the ground ahead. A hideous, multi-armed creature resembling a centipede crawled out, shrieking.
"Eek! What is that?!" Diallos nearly fell over.
"A Grafted...? No. Kalé's notes mentioned these. A Royal Revenant." The Tarnished stood calmly before the screeching horror. "Doesn't matter what it is. If it bleeds, it dies. Diallos, watch. It doesn't matter how ugly the enemy is. What matters is that when this blade falls, they become meat. If one strike isn't enough, strike twice. If twice isn't enough, strike thrice until it stops moving. That is combat."
"But... but I use a whip!" Diallos stammered.
The Tarnished gave him a look reserved for the hopelessly dim-witted. "Then whip it until it's shredded."
He wiped his blade, igniting it with a burst of Golden Grace. With one powerful stride, he swung. A wave of light sliced the Revenant clean in half.
"Understand?" The Tarnished tilted his head.
"No... not really..." Diallos whispered, stunned.
"Youth these days... no vision." He sheathed his sword and looked at Lanya. "Little girl, your legs must be the strongest in the Lands Between. How did you wander all the way from Limgrave to the heart of Liurnia?"
"I... I don't know. My 'absent-mindedness' seems to be getting worse..."
"..."
"Ah! Diallos, I'm so sorry!" Lanya snapped out of her shock and threw her arms around Diallos, weeping. "Thank you for finding me. If you hadn't come..."
"Well... we grew up together. And... you're my servant, I'm the Master... a Master doesn't just leave his people." Diallos's hands hovered awkwardly in the air. The Tarnished stepped forward and manually shoved Diallos's hands onto Lanya's back.
"Stop fumbling. If you're going to hug her, hug her."
Diallos's face turned bright red. "I... uh..."
"To be young," the Tarnished chuckled, noticing the Revenant's corpse dissipating. He noted the hollowed-out chest of the creature. Hollowed out like a Troll... man-made damage?
Once they calmed down, the pair thanked him again. "I don't need gold," the Tarnished said. "Let your growth be my payment. I don't like seeing people rot away in despair."
"I..." Diallos looked down. "My brother is a hero. I'm a coward. I've broken my word so many times. My family calls me a disgrace. Can someone like me really be who you expect?"
"Stop right there. Don't make my expectations your cage. Everyone has a purpose. Even a 'failure' can do something unique. Do you know why?"
"Why?"
"Because you have a mind of your own," the Tarnished pointed to his head. "Your path will be yours, not your brother's. Your family says 'The Tale of House Hoslow is Told in Blood,' right? But you can't even stand the sight of it."
"I... I can't."
"And yet you stood in front of her. That means something. Your path won't be his path. That's not cowardice; it's a new possibility for your lineage."
Diallos looked up, a tiny spark in his eyes. "A new possibility...?"
"Exactly," Lanya said, squeezing his hand. "I'll stay with you this time. We'll find your own 'Blood' together."
"You... you really are a troublesome woman. Fine! But don't you dare go missing again!"
"It's a promise."
The Tarnished watched them, a small smile playing on his lips. "You two should probably mark each other with a spell or something, so when she inevitably wanders off, you can find her. Because let's be honest, her internal compass is broken."
"You... have a point," Diallos sighed.
"Good luck. I hope to see a man standing tall next time we meet." The Tarnished waved and mounted Torrent.
As he rode into the heart of Liurnia, the moonlight reflected off the shallow waters, merging with his shadow. The Moon's Embrace.
•
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