Upon their return to the Roundtable Hold, Lanya rushed over to Diallos Hoslow. She strutted proudly over to the noble scion, gloating about her grand adventure and showing off the shield Talos had gifted to her. Rather than involve himself, Talos decided the check in on some of the other denizens of the Hold. He would have been a fool not to notice the change in atmosphere. Even without his helmet, his armour was still very easy to recognise, and so the more devout Tarnished were immediately guarded against him. However, it didn't bother him. Talos had little interest in zealots.
Nepheli wasn't around, presumably off on another quest for Gideon. Roderika had set up a station of her own opposite the blacksmith. They spoke briefly after she overcame her surprise at seeing the weathered face of her rescuer. The blacksmith, Hewg, had spoken to her in his own awkward, brusque way, saying that he could see that she had a talent for spirit tuning. She offered to demonstrate this and rendered her services. Talos handed over the wolf spirit ashes and a Ghost Glovewart, and Roderika set to work. It only took a small amount of time, and when the spirit ashes were returned, Talos could sense that they were more whole, more solidly anchored to the mortal world. He thanked her and bade her farewell, then moved on.
''Excuse me,'' a voice called out as Talos was about to descend the stairs and visit Edgar and Irina. He turned, seeing the woman in black he'd seen when first visiting the Hold. Eyes like mercury peered at him from beneath her hood. He vaguely remembered this woman, and he recalled that she had wanted his attention for something. ''I understand that you are busy, champion, but may I take just a little bit of your time?''
Once again, Talos considered the cycle. Nothing happened without a reason. She wanted him for something, and it was most likely something important. He nodded and walked to her, following her into her chamber. The room was large and well furnished, clearly the most comfortable room in the Hold. A fire crackled in the hearth, while books were strewn about the place. Whether the woman had read them or not was anyone's guess. She sat near the pillows on her bed, then patted a spot next to her. However, Talos merely stood at the bed's edge, prompting a look of confusion on her face.
''Will you not sit?'' she asked gently.
''I mean no insult, but I must refuse. For me to sit on your bed is considered somewhat salacious in my homeland. We are not involved in any way, so it would be improper. Please understand,'' Talos replied. Talos was, as he'd always been, a rather traditional man of Boletaria. The woman merely smiled understandingly.
''I see. I had merely wished for you to be comfortable. Forgive me,'' she bowed her head briefly.
''You weren't to know, so do not worry yourself. Now, you had business with me?''
''My name is Fia, and circumstance has compelled my stay here at the Roundtable Hold. I had wanted to speak to you beforehand, but it seems you were otherwise occupied,'' Fia said.
''I apologise for ignoring you. It was churlish of me. But you have my attention now,'' Talos replied. He remembered her calling to him the last time he'd been at the Hold. However, that was when Marika was making her unannounced way into his soul, prompting his hasty exit.
''I will speak plainly, as you do not seem like a man who wastes time with sophistry. Will you allow me to hold you, for but a moment?''
That took him by surprise. What was her angle? Normally, when something or someone wanted to 'hold' him, it usually entailed being mauled or having his life force ripped from him. The only difference was that they never had the good graces to ask first. Still, there was a purpose to this, not just in the act, but what it could mean. While he wanted to refuse, a part of him was telling him to oblige her request. A certain thread of fate was primed to be plucked, and he knew that leaving it alone could have dire consequences.
''Why? I do not mean to seem suspicious, but you must understand that is an unusual request upon first meeting someone,'' he said. Fia smiled. It was a practised motion, like she'd had this same conversation countless times already.
''I would ask that you bequeath of a portion of your lifely vigour, your stout-heartedness. Doing so will grant me the warmth of a champion,'' she watched as Talos' face shifted subtly as various thoughts passed through his head. She could tell he was hesitating. What did he think of her, she wondered. A harlot offering herself behind euphemism and pretty words, perhaps? She was ready to rescind her offer before he spoke.
''What do you mean? You clearly have a purpose for doing this. Share that with me and I'll share what I can,'' Talos said suddenly.
''You wish to know my reason? Very well, I will tell you,'' she gently cleared her throat, ''I am a Deathbed Companion. You may think it is a strange title, and you would be right in most places. But in my homeland, it is a position of venerated status.''
''A... Deathbed Companion?'' Talos pondered the words. The connotation was obvious. She was to warm the bed of someone on their deathbed, perhaps as a means of easing their suffering. But why? What was the purpose of such a thing?
''Yes. Do you think it vulgar? Where I come from, it is a sacred act,'' she said calmly. Once, when she'd been asked by foreign visitors, she would become defensive. But now, she didn't bother hiding it. People could take it as they liked.
''I will not lie. It is unusual. There was no such function in my homeland. Why do it?'' his tone, Fia noticed, wasn't disgust, but mere curiosity. She studied his aged face a little more. Whatever she saw, she was satisfied with it. She smiled wryly.
''Patience, champion. I believe I answered your question,'' she raised and spread her arms for an embrace, ''come. Let me hold you, and I shall tell you more, if you wish.''
'What a strange turn of the wheel,' Talos thought as he knelt before her. He gulped, his stomach twisting as he edged closer. The Dark Lord, a man-turned-god of incomprehensible power felt more uncertain here than he had in ages. He knew he had to do this. This was a sign from the cycle that he couldn't ignore, but the idea of being in any way intimate with another set him on edge. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been held. The warmth of another body against his was a distant memory, so degraded that he barely recognised it. The last person had been his wife, but that had been... lifetimes upon lifetimes ago.
'Oh, Griselda...' the name came unbidden in his mind. He hadn't dedicated much thought to his beloved wife in so long. So long, in fact, he had forgotten her face, with the comb he carried being the only depiction of her he still possessed. Her voice had been amongst the first memories of her that had slipped from him. Her name, though... he struggled to recall it, and it was only in rare moments did it resurface with ease.
Guilt reared its ugly head. Was this a betrayal? The last time he'd seen her, she had been a bloodied corpse in Miralda's dungeons. Was accepting this strange woman's embrace an act that would spit on what they'd shared? The the guilt faded, giving way to something else. A nothingness like a void in his heart.
She wasn't his wife. Griselda von Latra was the beloved of Talos Vastoran, a man who had died the moment he took his first Demon Soul. She was human, and the man she married was human. The Talos that lived now was anything but. He was a monster in denial, a creature wearing Talos Vastoran's face as it desperately clung to whatever scraps of humanity it could. He wouldn't disgrace her by claiming association to her. She deserved better than that. The creature bore Talos' name and his face, but was he really the same man? No. He didn't think so. Griselda's last memories of him were as a human, a husband and father of her children. She'd be disgusted with the thing he'd become. After all, he was, too.
But the question remained; what should he do? Deny Fia and potentially cause calamity later, or finally admit that he was no longer who he claimed to be and sever himself from the man that had been Talos Vastoran?
Fia saw his hesitation. Looking into his strange, dark eyes, she saw a familiar sight. Many champions had the same look about them. They often led lonely lives, never forming connections on whatever journeys they were on, with loss as their only constant companion. Intimacy, touch, the warmth of another, it was so alien to them, like they'd be far more comfortable with a blade to their throat. She quietly enjoyed that. She enjoyed being a comfort to champions who were defined by struggle. There was a heady rush that came with being the sole gentle hand for them to take when they needed it. The embrace and the act that followed was as much for their benefit as it was hers. An unintended, yet acceptable consequence.
The Deathbed Companion slowly and gently slipped her arms over Talos' shoulders, one went across his back while the other slid the hood back from his head. Her long, delicate fingers worked into his slivering hair, tracing the strands of black she could find. Her nails gently kneaded his scalp as a signal for him to relax, and after a moment's more hesitation, he finally let his head come to rest in her lap while a hand came to rest on her hip.
''There,'' she whispered as she softly caressed his hair, ''you look to have needed this,'' she closed her eyes, letting the silence that followed persist for a while. Fia could feel his warmth, the strength of his life force. It was like sitting right beside the hearth. The sensation suffused her body unlike any other champion she'd held.
''You are so very warm,'' she crooned, ''of all of the champions I have taken in my arms... you are the most radiant. I dare say that it's almost intoxicating.''
''Will you answer my question?'' Talos said. He didn't know what had come over him, but being there, nestled against this woman who he'd met a scarce few minutes ago, he felt his body relax as he indulged in her freely offered tenderness. Maybe it was the solitude, the loss, the strife, any number of things, but he now felt as if a great weight had been lifted from him, and some long forgotten part of himself was resurfacing. An alien sensation spread within him. It flowed like water over the pitted and scored walls of his mind, filling in the yawning cracks of his spirit. The constant ache in his heart at what he had become and the trials he endured was soothed. What was this?
''Of course. I have not forgotten,'' she clutched him a little tighter, luxuriating in the warmth he offered, ''my purpose is to lay with the remains of an exalted noble, to grant him a second chance at life. To do so is my reason for being.'' Her stroking of his hair stopped momentarily before she continued. ''Before I could bear him into new life, I was awakened by the guidance of grace, chased from my homeland.'' Fia's hands swapped, the hand on Talos' head moving to his back, while the other moved up to his face, where her soft thumb drew slow circles against his stubbled cheek. ''Pray, be kind. Despite all that, I still wish to be a Deathbed Companion.''
Talos felt himself drifting. When had he last slept? Even camped under the stars as he had in recent days, it was simple whim. He would find beautiful sights and decided he wanted to look upon them for a while before moving on. Did gods need sleep? Maybe the need was a vestige of his humanity, a yearning to return to how he'd once been. Thinking about it, he had been feeling... off, recently. Slower to think and slower to act, like a light haze had fallen over his mind. He had been too driven and too distracted to pay it much mind.
''Would you do me one more kindness, my dear?'' Fia's voice cut through the murk of his thoughts.
''What?'' was his reply, simple and to the point, too comfortable and too wrapped in the tumult of his thoughts to muster anything else. He was acutely aware of his position. The lap he laid upon was plush and warm, the thin silk overlaying the woman's figure heavenly against his weathered skin. The sweeping curve of her hip under his palm was similarly warm through the leather of his glove.
Had he really gone so long without contact like this? To simply enjoy the feeling of another had felt like a luxury forbidden to him, though he knew he'd imposed that on himself. There was never time to indulge in flesh, and even then, who would have had him? Lordran, the first time he'd been there, had been a land of death. The second had been worse, a grey world mired in ash and ruin. The graveyard tower of Firelink Shrine had been inhabited by the broken and the damned, with no warmth for themselves or others on their own doom-driven quests. Even the Firekeeper, always so tender, beautiful even with her eyes obscured, always maintained a cold distance.
What had been a starvation of carnal release much earlier in his journey had devolved into a longing just to be touched, to share a physical connection with another, no matter how brief or meaningless. He hated how achingly human that was, but he knew that such a thing was a reminder that he wasn't totally inhuman. At least, not yet.
'Is it time to let go?' he wondered.
''Lay with me, so that you may share your warmth proper. That is, if you are agreeable to it. I will not stop you should you wish to leave. Your earlier display of propriety leads me to believe you would think this whorish of me,'' Fia said, biting her lip. Talos was silent, but he remained where he was. ''It's alright. You needn't say anything.''
Without warning, Talos stood, pulling himself from Fia's hold. Her face was one of surprise as he walked towards the door. His pace was quick. She folded her hands on her lap, squeezing one hand tightly as she fought to keep her expression neutral. Of course he'd reject her. Of course he would.
He stopped sharply at the door and closed it.
''Talos?'' Fia said, her disappointment morphing into elation. He turned to face her.
''We will need our privacy for this, no?'' he replied. 'Before I change my mind,' he thought.
''O-of course, yes, you are correct. Then please, come to me,'' she pushed her hood back, revealing her silky, blonde hair, ''share with me... a champion's vigour,'' Fia purred with a new seductive edge to her voice. However, in her excitement, she failed to notice the eyes of a man who knew he had just damned himself.
The deed was done. Talos lay on his back, with Fia nestled against his side, one leg hooked over his under the bedsheet. Her head rested on his shoulder, while a hand rested on his chest. The act itself had been quiet, save for the usual sounds that accompanied intercourse. And even as they lay together, slicked with sweat and listening to the crackling of the fireplace, neither spoke. Fia, for her part, was contented. She couldn't believe the amount of energy she'd been given, and the quality was unlike any other she'd seen. Talos' more-than-generous donation would set her plan several steps in advance just from this single occasion. That on top of other aspects of their tryst, left her deeply satisfied.
Meanwhile, Talos stared up at the ceiling, his half-lidded eyes gazing at nothing. That was it. He'd said farewell to his old self. Talos Vastoran, first of his noble line and husband of Griselda von Latra, was no more. All that remained was the thing he'd become. He would have thought some sense of relief would follow, but instead, what festered was a sense of hollowness. But what choice did he have? The cycle, the mirror reflections of events across worlds needed to be followed to its end so he could finally end it at its source. What was his identity, his memory, in the face of that? So what if parts of himself needed to die to achieve his goals? He'd already cast his future away to slay the gods. This was bigger than him. Bigger than anything. Yet why was it so hard to justify?
''Talos?'' Fia's voice tore him from his thoughts. He grunted in acknowledgement. ''You cannot know how grateful I am. What you have done is of greater significance than it may seem.''
''I see,'' Talos replied, nonchalantly. He felt Fia shift against him, then her warm breath against his chest.
''I had waited, you know? Ever since I heard you reject the Two Fingers, I could think of little else. I knew I had to meet you. Not once have I heard a Tarnished repudiate them so blatantly. You gave me hope.''
''Did I now?'' he muttered.
''Indeed. Those who linger here... they are supplicants or craven. But you are not. Though I admit, I also feared what might happen should I act against the Fingers. But now I know that their power is limited. You defied them and lived.'' Fia placed a hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her. ''Thank you.''
Talos hummed in response, and that was enough for Fia.
''Do you feel better, my dear? I had meant to ask if you felt it. A warmth within yourself when I first held you,'' she whispered.
''I had. It is unusual, but it is not unwelcome,'' Talos said. When he'd first felt it, the inner pain that accompanied him seemed dulled. Even the guilt and then emptiness felt as though they weren't as crushing as they should have been.
''That is a Baldachin's Blessing. It will soothe your woes and quell your pain, but it is a fleeting thing. Those on their deathbeds cherished these blessings as they eased their passing,'' Fia stared into his eyes searchingly. ''But... I cannot help but notice you look, and pardon my saying, worse than before. Are you alright, my dear?'' she pressed herself closer and propped herself up to get a better look at him.
''I'm fine. Perhaps I surrendered more than I could sensibly spare?'' he said, the true meaning of those words lost on the Deathbed Companion. Fia maintained her gaze for several moments longer before humming and laying her head back on his shoulder.
''Perhaps. But please, great champion, do not overtax yourself for me. I only need a portion of your vigour. If you gave me more than I need, then what need would we have to meet? And I sincerely wish to do this again, if I may be so bold.''
A pit of cold spread in Talos' stomach. Again, he grunted and closed his eyes, letting a sigh out through his nose. Similarly, Fia did the same, though their reasons for sighing couldn't be more different.
''Will you stay with me, my dear? It is wise to replenish yourself after such a rigorous... donation,'' Fia asked, though she'd already claimed his arm as if the matter were already settled. Talos didn't argue. He settled in and tried to relax, wanting to be rid of consciousness, at least for a while.
He didn't like sleeping, but he knew that for some reason, he needed to. Despite his godly constitution, his mind was still subject to the wear and tear of wakefulness. Sleep beckoned nightmares, and the nightmares of a god were far more terrible than any human mind could conjure. Human... he'd never considered himself removed from his roots, but after what he'd just done, he decided that he no longer had the right to to that claim. He was a god. An abominable, unnatural, unworthy god.
''You are grinding your teeth, dear. Tell me what ails you,'' Fia said softly.
''It is nothing. Sleep just... does not come easily to me,'' Talos replied. It was true, for the most part. On the rare occasion that he did sleep, he had to force himself by ingesting copious amounts of sedatives. Since his apotheosis, the amount needed had increased significantly. Fortunately, the streets of Yharnam had sedatives aplenty.
''I see,'' she released Talos' arm, ''pray, face me, my dear.'' Curious, Talos did as was asked and rolled onto his side. Then, Fia shuffled up slightly and wrapped her arms about his head and gently pulled him to her until his head was nestled in her bosom. ''My role is to provide comfort. But that does not merely extend to the remains of nobles. At least, not in this case.'' Fia stroked his hair. ''Rest now, Talos. I shall be here, for as long as you need me.''
Talos lay for some time with his eyes open. He listened to the slow beat of Fia's heart and the slow rhythm of her breathing. Why was she doing this? There was the goal she'd stated, but why was she being so welcoming? So accommodating? So... loving. As much as he desperately desired such contact, he couldn't find it within himself to believe he deserved it. He wasn't blind to the fact that this had been a transaction. But not once had she been eager to be rid of him or ask him for more. She was concerned for him and sought to comfort him beyond what she needed to. Was it just gratitude or merely repaying a debt? So many questions, so many uncertainties, yet as he lay there, he could slowly feel himself starting to drift.
Finally, Talos gave in. He moved a hesitant, shaking hand from between them and gently placed it on her hip. She may have sought an embrace, but this was the best he could muster. He felt her chin come to rest atop his head and she gave a pleased hum.
His eyelids drooped, closing slowly. But as sleep finally claimed him, there was time for one final thought.
'Forgive me, Griselda. Know that the man you knew loved you. Goodbye,' and with those silent words echoing into eternity, his perception of the waking world fell away.
Talos' eyes snapped open. Sitting up, he looked around. He lay in craggy, grey expanse, interspersed with patches of pink and white flowers, while in the distance, buildings and structures were crooked and pressed together. Castles, houses, towers, high walls, all compressed into a mangled amalgam of stone. Great mounds of ash gathered in the nooks and crannies, all while the smell of ash and fire drifted on a dry breeze. He knew this place and he knew it well. An orange glow was cast across the dead landscape. Talos didn't need to look to know the source, but he did regardless. Up above was an eclipse. A black void edged with molten orange. The Darksign magnified.
How strange. He hadn't dreamt of this place for a very long time.
''You have the most fascinating dreams,'' Talos whipped around, getting to his feet in a single, fluid movement. A small figure sat in the field of flowers, a single bloom held in their fingers as they studied it. They were dressed in a simple white gown, while wavy blonde hair tumbled down their back with some on their front. Across the upper quarter of their face, an intricately crafted silver diadem, similar to that of the Fire Keeper rested, with a single purple gemstone inlaid in the centre.
''Should I even be surprised to find someone here?'' Talos grumbled, ''go on then. Name yourself.'' He could sense just what kind of being was in his dream. It was a similar sensation to what he felt from Ranni. Whoever this was, they were powerful, but more importantly, they were vital to the outcome of his crusade. However, he felt a distinct disconnect from Marika in this place. She wasn't there. And without her, he had to try and fill in the blanks himself.
''You do not waste time on pleasantries, do you? Very well, I shall tell you. After all, I have come seeking your aid, traveller from beyond. My name is Trina. And I need your help.''
''With what? Out with it,'' Talos snapped. He was already in a foul mood, and just when he thought he could shut his mind off and get some proper rest, this young girl comes crashing into his mind to disturb him. The girl smiled, unbothered by his tone.
''You have learned much in your time here, traveller. So I needn't explain too much. You know of Malenia the Severed, do you not? You see, she is someone very dear to me. But in your journey, I am afraid that you will encounter her. I ask this of you; please, do not kill her. I know your dreams. They are stained with blood, and vengeance boils within you at every moment. If you wish to free the Lands Between of the gods that have visited their cruelties upon us, then you will need Malenia by your side,'' Trina explained.
''She lives? If so, how do you suppose I gain her favour, then?'' Talos asked.
''It is simple, but the task required of you is not so. Find Miquella, the Empyrean absconded. Taken by the Lord of Blood. I will guide you,'' Trina said.
''Lord of Blood...'' Talos mulled over that title. Another fool grasping at things that were best left undisturbed? ''Who is this Lord of Blood, and what does he want with Miquella?''
''He seeks a consort. Miquella is locked in an unending sleep, his body hidden away in a land awash with the water of life. Through him, the Lord of Blood seeks to create his dynasty and open the way to the Formless Mother. While Malenia slept after her battle with the Starscourge, the nascent Empyrean was spirited away. To become Elden Lord is merely a step in the long journey towards the Age of Blood.''
The mention of a 'Formless Mother' caught Talos' attention. A formless Outer God sounded far too similar to another formless god he'd heard of. Oeden. The formless Great One. Could they be one and the same? Formless and with an intrinsic association to blood. Talos' eyes narrowed sharply.
''I see...,'' Trina said, ''you've some familiarity. Your dreams, your nightmares... they whisper countless unknowable things. That is why I sought you, Talos. You, removed from the turning of the wheel, are uniquely equipped to pry the groping fingers of the gods from us. It is why we can even speak candidly like this.''
''The gods must die, Trina. All of them. Whether at your request or not, I will hunt them. Though, that should not be news to you. Malenia is afflicted by one of them, isn't she?''
''The Goddess of Rot, yes,'' Trina's lips curved downward, her voice sullen, ''she, like Miquella, is a candidate for godhood. That is what it means to be an Empyrean. Malenia has already bloomed. Once more, and she shall achieve true godhood. She will be naught but a puppet for the Goddess of Rot.''
''If I find Miquella, what then? Do I lead Malenia to him? What's to say she will even believe me?'' Talos crossed his arms.
''Before Miquella interred himself within the heart of the Haligtree, where Malenia rests even to this day, he devised a phrase, only entrusted to those within the ranks of Malenia's closest knights. The words are as follows; 'O' sister, mine blade and twin, thy vigil endeth henceforth. The womb at the heart of the tree lieth empty. Tarry not, O' sister. Thy blood needeth thy blade'. Speak those words and Malenia will at least lend you her ear.''
''I see. And what do you gain from this?''
''What do I gain?'' Trina tilted her head slightly, ''personally, nothing. Malenia is precious to me, as is Miquella to her. To have them reunited is reward enough. Ah, but do not think you shall go without. After all, I am one who presides over the state of slumber. As I have said, I have seen your dreams. The terrors that chase you are horrid things indeed, and it grieves me that you suffer so. You have done much. Have given much. So I will provide my service. With my blessing, you needn't fear sleep nor fear to dream. Does that please you?''
It did sound appealing. He had avoided sleeping as much as he could, tormented by the things he'd seen and endured. He dreamed of the cosmos. He dreamed of terrible creatures lurking in the space between worlds. The faces of his family, scratchy and half-forgotten, accused him of failing them. Monumental truths forbidden to mere mortals scratched and chittered like rats in the walls of his mind. He just wanted it to end. Each night brought demons and monsters, ones he couldn't fight.
He was so, so tired.
''Fine. And I suppose it will provide you a means with which to speak with me,'' Talos replied with a sigh.
''Hmm, yes. You are no stranger to such things, it seems,'' Trina said.
''Being what I am, esoteric matters of the mind are more commonplace than I'd hoped,'' he said bitterly.
''Well, I believe that is all the time I shall take. We shall meet again soon, I am sure,'' suddenly, Trina sounded as if she were getting further and further away, her voice echoing as the scene around them began to fade. ''Rest well, Talos. And remember what I said. Malenia must not die.''
Talos awoke some time later, feeling more alert than he had in quite some time. After Trina's last words to him, he was subsumed in a dreamless sleep, wrapped in a blanket of oblivion. How long had it been since he'd slept so peacefully? He didn't know. Being plagued by demons clawing at his unconscious mind had become the norm.
Blackness engulfed his vision, but as he roused to wakefulness, his ears attuned to the sound of steady breathing and a resting heartbeat. He remembered now. He'd spent the night, or he assumed it was the night, with Fia. While he slept, he'd rolled over some more until his arm was completely slung over her hip, while she maintained a hold on his head.
''Welcome back,'' Fia said suddenly, ''did you rest well, my dear?''
He had to admit that he was well rested for a change. But he still felt miserable, and he suspected he would for quite some time.
''Yes. I...'' he trailed off, ''...thank you, Fia. I needed this,'' he couldn't tell if he was lying or not. He really didn't know how to feel about any of this.
''Think nothing of it. It we the least I could do,'' she released Talos and sat up, unbothered as the sheets slipped away and exposed her perfect, pale flesh. ''I would love to while away the day with you like this, great champion. But unfortunately, you and I both have our tasks that cannot wait.''
''Right...'' Talos said. It bothered him how much he wanted the same. It was pitiful. He spent one night with a woman, and suddenly he was reluctant to leave. He got up and began donning his armour and then collected his weapons. He was in a distracted daze as he went about his task, totally ignorant of the naked figure behind him as she slipped back into her dark silks. It suddenly occurred to him how profoundly he'd been affected by his lack of physical contact with others that didn't involve killing.
'Talos,' Marika's voice cut into his thoughts like a knife, 'stop this immediately.'
He didn't have time to respond to the Eternal Queen.
''I know that face, my dear,'' Fia crooned with a smile as she placed a hand on his cheek, ''you needn't fret. I will remain here for the foreseeable future. You may visit me anytime, should you desire to. I will always welcome you with open arms.''
'Go now. Thine emotions art like a storm,' Marika said urgently.
''Thank you, Fia. And farewell,'' he opened the door to her room and left, met with the sounds of Hewg's toil and the graveyard quiet of the Hold. He wasted no time speaking to anyone before leaving the Roundtable Hold behind. As he did, Roderika cast a concerned look his way. He didn't look good at all.
Talos had, in fact, not spent the night. Darkness stretched across the Lands Between, and Talos wandered atop Torrent, no destination in mind. Golden leaves rained down from above, carried on the gentle breeze. Talos plucked one from the air, and like before, the leaf began to smoke, then caught flame before curling and turning to ash.
'Did I do the right thing?' Talos thought. He knew that the cycle had to be followed. Any signs had to be chased, no matter what. It's why he didn't kill Patches, despite how much he wanted to or how easy it would have been. Many compromises and concessions had to be made in pursuit of the cycle's end. Until the crucial point came when he could end it, he had to keep sacrificing.
'Talos. What plagues thee? Thou'st been distraught since thou met with the Deathbed Companion,' Marika said. Talos grimaced. She'd have seen all that.
'Did you know I was married once? She was beautiful, kind, everything I could have asked for. When I was thrust into this existence, I began to forget things. I forgot her voice, her face... even her name finally began to fade. But I never forgot the vows I swore. The promise of fidelity. It was supposed to be death that parted us. A human death, one of old age, illness or the edge of a blade. Instead, the man she married went on to become this ridiculous creature long after she herself died,' Talos explained as he stared at the golden form of the Erdtree.
'Dost thou feel thou betrayed her, then?' Marika asked.
'Yes. I have done much in service to my goals, Marika. I have killed, I have compromised, I have ended epochs and slain that which cannot be slain. But I always tried to keep my humanity. And a part of my humanity was remembering the vows I made as a mortal man. No matter how lonesome, no matter how desperate I became, I swore that I would never betray the eternal promise I made to Griselda. But the cycle is cruel. It knew I could not reconcile my vows and my crusade. One had to be sacrificed, and so Fia found me.'
Marika was quiet for a brief span. 'Griselda, thy wife... she was precious to thee. A symbol of thy human origin...' Marika paused in thought. 'Talos, thou'st done ought wrong.'
Talos laughed aloud, a bitter sound that he hadn't meant to let slip. 'Oh? How do you figure? I was to keep one promise, and I broke it. More than that, I wanted to stay with Fia, Marika! So pitiful am I, that a night of congress and a tender caress had me longing to abandon my quest! For all my power, for all my suffering, that was all it took to shake my conviction! What else will I betray? What other weaknesses will the forces of fate exploit?'
'Thou sayest thou art not a man, but thy weakness is that of a man. Truly, would a god the kind thou claim to be have such a flaw? Would a god so disgusting as thou say thou art give consideration for thy departed beloved? I think not,' something in Marika's tone was shifting. She was moving away from soft words, instead her voice was becoming harder.
'Marika-'
'Silence,' her command was short and sharp, 'I wilt stomach thy self-pity and delusion for not a moment more. Thy loathing of the self is but a burden thou shouldst abandon. I knowest thee, Talos. Thy soul and mind art like a grand library, one I hath scoured since joining myself to thee. Thou art convinced thou art a monster, unworthy of admiration nor mercy, but thy actions, thy kindness belong not to monsters, fool. Those qualities art those of man. Within thy breast beats the heart of a man, one who cares for others. I witnessed thy act, Talos. I heard the tremors within. Thy actions born of sacrifice and greater cause, not base lust. If ye cannot see it, then I shall bear witness.'
'Thy sacrifices art made for those who shalt never know thy name or countenance, but thou carest not for glory. A god ye may be, but a man ye remain. Be good. Be the example for others. Slay the gods as ye desire, but spite them by showing thy better nature. Wallow not in despair. I shan't tolerate such from my Consort.'
'Were it so easy...' Talos mused. He wished he could just not feel as he did. He sincerely wanted to believe that what he did was absolutely necessary, and that he'd set the memory of Griselda free and he could move on. But it was too personal. Marrying her had been among the last great things he'd done as a human, something that could persist across time as long as he remained faithful. Severing that part of himself, no matter the reason, hurt like nothing else. But he had to do it. He had to. It was what was demanded of him.
'Talos, no matter thy thoughts or feelings on me, I am and will be by thy side. We face the trials that come together, because that is what we swore to do. Raise thy head. Stand proud. I will never know thy wife as ye did, but I choose to believe she wouldst be proud of thy determination. To see her beloved rise to meet adversity and conquer it again and again. 'Twas why I took Godfrey as my first Lord. It broke my heart to banish him, but like thine own choice, I was spurred by a purpose greater than myself. My feelings and wants mattered not, only duty and adherence to the Golden Order. Many a regretful act hath been done in the name of duty,' Marika's voice became soft and quiet.
'Duty... is often the death of reason...' Talos spoke his adage, 'I appreciate this, Marika. What I did... it will follow me. But I swear, it will not dissuade me from my goal. I have surrendered too much for that to happen.'
'That is all I could ask for. Recognise and embrace thy anguish. Much time hath passed since my imprisonment. Time enough to acknowledge my sins and master my pain. My faith in thee to do the same runneth strong,' Talos could hear the smile in her voice, 'now, to where shall we venture next?'
Finally, a welcome distraction. 'Any recommendations?'
'I believe Caelid to be the wise choice. Search for Radahn and end his suffering as Rennala requested.'
'Agreed. That was also what I agreed to do for Ranni. The sooner we get it done, the better.'