Dark Ponies: The Fragility of Souls

I was unsure how long I had lain on those hot rocks, the evening sun remaining low in the sky, beating down on my exposed flank, yet when I awoke, I had been moved to a blissful shade. I was lying on a stone plinth, cool rock beneath me soothing what hot rock had seared. I lifted my head to attempt to get my bearings; I was in what appeared to be a small, run-down settlement, wooden houses lay shattered amongst overgrown grass and assorted rocks embedded into the crusty ground. As I made to stand up, a voice from my left startled me. I panicked, backing up off the cool stone, rolling to my hooves to confront the voice.

“Woah now, I didn’t mean to startle you!” The voice returned, a gruff attempt at a soothing tone attempting to calm me down. I looked at the source of the voice; a man roughly the same age as my previous companion, thick black hair clumped scruffily around his face, chainmail glinting as he stepped back into the light. “My name’s Saulden, I won’t hurt you.”

‘Greetings then, Saulden. Where might this be?’

“This is Majula” he responded proudly before emitting a startled choke. “Wait, you’re a pony and-”

‘And telepathy, yup.’ I responded, broadcasting the fact to the rest of the town, bored. ‘That realisation is starting to get old, fast.’

Saulden nodded, clearing his throat. “I take it you’re new here? If so, welcome to Drangleic, Miss…”

‘My name is Ayrle. Pleasure to meet you.’

“And you.” He bowed low, fascination still gleaming in his eyes before he gestured to a figure dressed in a deep green cloak, staring out across the ocean that lapped at the cliff atop which Majula was situated. “You’ll want to speak with that lady. She’s known as the Emerald Herald, she helps travellers that still want to be helped. That haven’t realised the only thing that can be done about this curse of ours is to accept the inevitable. Those that think they still have a chance at breaking it.”

‘That would be me then. Good day, sir.’

I trotted off down the stone steps that led down into the main body of Majula, taking in the view as I did so. I could see a total of three run-down wooden buildings and one larger, less damaged structure. Closer to the steps I was descending from, another of the curious bone and sword piles stood, unlit. Why had no-one lit the thing? I moved towards the lady Saulden had pointed out. As I got near, she bowed her head slightly, still facing the great ocean.

“Are you here to become the next monarch, young undead?” she questioned, her voice song-like as it graced my ears.

‘I am here merely to break the curse, ma’am.’

A sigh escaped her lips as she turned to face me, green eye glinting softly in the permanently setting sun. “I see. Very well then, please allow me to assist you in your journey. Please, take this.” She opened a small pouch on her waist, pulling out a small green flask that seemed dull against her palm, even in the golden evening light. “This flask contains Estus, or it would had the bonfire not gone out. Please allow it to help you.”

‘Bonfire?’ I asked, confused, before pointing a hoof at the pile of bones ‘Is that what these are known as?’

“You are correct, young undead.” I followed as she walked towards it, her cape trailing daintily along the ground. “It responds to hope. That is why none of the lost souls here can light it. Please, you try.”

‘I see, these things are beacons of hope, because they require hope…’ I mused, placing my hoof above the bonfire. It roared into life, a green shell of a man raising his head from beside one of the ruined buildings.

“This flame is known as the far fire. It was named as such since it is the furthest flame from the strife you will face in this land. But no matter where you are, so long as you have hope, these flames will react to you. Please remember that, young one.” The Herald smiled softly, before acknowledging the man whom had reacted to the life of the flame. “That man is named Lenigrast. He is a blacksmith who has lost everything in this world. It would benefit you to help him.”

‘Thank you for your help, ma’am.’

The Emerald Herald smiled as I bowed my head before trotting over to Lenigrast. As I approached, he scowled. His skin was a tight green leather pulled taut over a strongly defined body, his eyes the milky white of one close to hollowing.

“Leave me alone.” A gruff voice emanated from the blacksmith, “Your kind isn’t welcome here. Just let me Hollow in peace.”

‘Nope. I wish to aid you, my good sir.’

“And what can a foal help me with. Scram.”

‘Hey, I’m not a foal. You may be one shove away from going Hollow, but that doesn’t give you the right to be foul to those wanting to assist. Now tell me what’s gotten you so green.’

A hefty sigh erupted from Lenigrast’s chest. “Well, if helping me will get you to leave me alone, find me the key to this place. I left my tools in here and without them I can’t be doing any smithing. My work and my daughter is all I have left and that foolish girl’s run off somewhere, and since I won’t see her again…” He broke off, a hint of a tear forming in the corner of his eye. “Look, just get me the key to this place. Then we can talk.”

‘Got it, sir. One key, coming up.’

“Don’t call me sir. I’m not old.”

A chuckle escaped as I bid the old blacksmith a farewell, trotting off to investigate the other houses. I checked the larger of the three first, my magic pushing and pulling at the stubborn iron door, yet it would not yield. I probed the keyhole with a pulse of magic. It was locked tightly, the mechanism in these Drangleic locks far too advanced for my magic to pick. Sighing, I moved to the building to the left, its entrance was unobstructed by any door.

I almost missed the shadow of a man curled up in the corner between two counters scattered with shoddy armour. I cleared my throat gently, startling the man into sitting up and paying me attention.

“G-good day!” He stuttered, bowing repeatedly. “Please, miss, please buy something!”

‘I’m sorry, my good sir, but I haven’t any coin. I’m new to this land. Even in my past land I had not a penny to my name.’

“O-oh no, ma’am, coins are worthless here, it’s souls we trade for!” The merchant seemed to be gaining a little more confidence in speaking to me, although he was still keeping his body as small as he could without being disrespectful.

‘You trade in... souls? How does that work?’

“W-well, every creature in this land has a soul, even most of us in Majula! When you end their existence, their souls flow from their body into yours. You can release and trade these souls at will, or the Herald can bind them to your own soul to gain more power, although…”

‘Although?’ I urged, before his first sentence hit me ‘and only most of Majula? Some of them have no soul?’

“A-although I’d like it if you’d purchase from me instead of adding power.” Sweat was forming rapidly on the merchant’s brow, his eye twitching. “As for the second… most of the creatures in this land can sense if a creature has a soul. There are two in this place that do not.. The Herald and lovely Shalquoir do not have this… And you… I cannot tell if you have a soul, this is most peculiar…”

‘I… I see…’ My telepathy was quiet in the merchant’s head as I turned to walk slowly out of the shop, my mind running from the implications of his words. ‘Thank you, mr..?’

“Maughlin.”

‘I see. My name is Ayrle. I’ll mention your shop to whomever I meet. I won’t be needing anything material from you.’