I stood in the center of the arena, studying the corpse of the fallen Judge. The black sludge dribbled out from cracks in his armor, scorching any stone it touched with a shrill hiss. Part of me wanted to be horrified by what I’d done. Another part felt a little pride in it. Most of all, though, I just felt numb.

My legs finally buckled, dropping me to my knees. My head hung low, forcing me to stare into the dust. This wasn’t my fear returning, weakening me and leaving me rooted to the spot. No, this was exhaustion. The same feeling I got while running laps in gym class turned up to eleven. The same blurry double-vision I got after staying up all night cramming for exams. But this wasn’t the schoolyard.

My head was empty, my thoughts blank.

Along with each breath, I felt a sharp stabbing erupt through my chest and the slick, bitter taste of blood in my mouth. I tried to swallow it down, but my muscles were paralyzed, stuck like stone and leaving me an unwilling statue. It took every ounce of strength I had left just to keep myself upright and my eyes open.

Eventually, though, the adrenaline ran its course.

My eyelids drooped close and I felt myself falling.

Before I hit the ground, something caught me. The resulting jolt let me peel my eyes open. I saw the rough shape of a man over me, his face darkened by the light of the sky behind him. He leaned my body against his own, where I could feel the cold touch of metal on my skin.

“Hang on. I’ve got you.” It was Mister Knight.

Through foggy lenses, I watched him take his orange flask and put the warm glass to my lips. Whatever liquid came out of the bottle only succeeded in drooling uselessly from the corner of my mouth. I felt the heat soak into my shirt as it spilled down my front. For the briefest of moments, I felt it sink deeper into my skin.

I tried to speak, but only succeeded in gurgling uselessly.

The Knight tried to sit me up, I guess hoping that it might help me to choke down the healing drink, but it didn’t. By now, the corners of my vision were consumed by darkness, but I could still see the Judge. The gruesome colossus got the final laugh, it appeared.

Then something strange happened. Even by this world’s standards: The Judge started to . . . dissipate. His broken armor, his blackened flesh, they simply evaporated into smoke and dust. Where the corpse had been, a swirling cloud of smoke now took its place. Rather than drift up and into the beyond, it streamed toward me, wrapping my broken body in its embrace.

I thought I must have been hallucinating. That my dying mind was trying to make sense of some phenomenon it didn’t have the power to see clearly. And the voices only lent more credence to my theory. As the tendrils of mist engulfed me, a cacophony of whispering played though my head, like a scratching at my skull. Closing my eyes only made the noise worse.

“What?” I heard the Knight say. “Where did . . .”

The whispering died down, and the Knight’s voice drifted to me from miles away, fading into a silent whine. I couldn’t hold on any longer. As my mind shut down piece by piece, my last few conscious thoughts turned to Twilight. I’d already forgotten her face. I wondered if I would forget something else about her. Our first meeting. Our friendship. Worse, maybe I’d forget the joy I felt whenever she was around me or . . . or maybe the way I felt about her.

Then, as the last embers of my life were scattered to the winds, A fire ignited.

The whoosh of a newborn flame, followed closely by a wave of warm air washing over me and a dim light that I could see even through my closed eyes. Was this it? Had I died again? It would explain the fading pain and the sudden peacefulness that I felt.

But then my eyes opened. I was on my back, watching clouds drift through an empty sky.

My core muscles stung briefly as I rolled onto my side.

I was lying beside a bonfire. Another pile of ash and bone, with a charred, twisted blade at the core. Rather than the cliffside alcove, though, we were sitting in on the raised stage in the middle of the arena. The Judge’s body was gone. Looks like I hadn’t just hallucinated that after all.

Mister Knight sat to my left. Without anything to lean back on, he was hunched forward, with one of his elbows resting on his knee. From the angle of his helmet, he wasn’t looking into the fire, but rather at the ground between his feet. His left arm was limp in the dirt, his metal-plated knuckles scratching into the dust with each breath. The dent in his chestplate appeared to be filling back in slowly.

“What happened?” Is what I wanted to ask.

Instead, I hung my head forward and gagged up a mouthful of dark blood.

The Knight’s helmet lifted only a few degrees to watch me choke.

When I was finished, I took a few deep breaths and spit out a final bit of pinkish spittle.

“You’re alive,” Mister Knight said.

“Yeah. I think so.” Sucking a breath through my teeth, I sat up. I made sure to give the mess I’d made a wide berth. “Did I die again?”

“No. It showed up just in time.” He motioned to the bonfire. “You should be feeling better soon.”

“I hope so,” I muttered. I went to rub the back of my neck and felt something poking out beneath my skin. With the slightest bit of pressure, whatever it was snapped back into place. My headache started to clear up, but I had no idea if the two were related. “After you saved me, when that giant snake thing tossed you aside, I thought you were . . .”

“I could say the same about you,” he said.

Curiosity compelled me to look toward the arena wall where I’d crashed. I was pretty sure I’d painted the bloody streak across the bricks with the back of my head. “Yeah . . .”

“You know,” his voice lowered, “I don’t recall you saying you were a cleric.”

“I didn’t.” I thumbed the chime in my pocket. “I mean, I’m not. I just . . .”

He glared at me, obviously waiting for me to explain.

“Look,” I said, “it’s a long story. To put it simply, I was desperate. I had no idea that would work.”

He grunted.

“I’m sorry.” I put my chin to my knees and hid behind my crossed arms. I wasn’t even sure what I was apologizing for. For saving us? Or maybe just for almost getting him killed in the first place. “I’ve never used magic like that before.”

“But you have used magic before?”

I shrugged. “A long time ago.”

The Knight stared at me, but said nothing for a long while.

I tried my best to ignore him. I felt gross. After sitting long enough, my pain subsided and Mister Knight’s arm, armor, and shield were all put back into shape. “Well, at least all your stuff is fixed,” I said just to break up the silence.

“Yeah.”

“Is that some kind of magic, too?” I asked.

“It’s the flame.” He nodded toward the fire.

“The flame . . . fixed your armor?” It sounded insane, but the more I thought about it, the more it started to make sense. Or, at least, the more it started to fit in with the rest of the crazy stuff that was going on around here. It had fixed the hole in my jacket shoulder before. It had also brought me back from the dead. Clearly, this wasn’t any normal flame. “This flame . . . seems like it’s really important.”

“You don’t know about the First Flame?” He made a noise that could either have been a scoff or a chuckle. “Where did you say you were from?”

“I don’t remember,” I said. Before he could say anything, I shook my head. “No. You know what, you’ve saved my life, what, three times, now?” I ran my tongue over my teeth. “You deserve the truth, but . . . it’s going to sound crazy.”

He waited quietly.

“I’m not . . . from . . . here,” I admitted.

“That much is obvious.”

“No, I mean that I’m not from . . . this world.” My finger drummed against the corner of my mouth. “I do live in a world full of humans, but they’re much different from anything I’ve seen here. There are no monsters, no curses, no magical flame. Just a lot of regular people living regular peaceful lives.”

“Sounds like a paradise.” Mister Knight said.

“It is. Kind of.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Why did you leave such a place?”

I frowned. “It wasn’t exactly by choice. That friend I told you about, Twilight? She built a machine, some big metal contraption, in her lab.” I waved my hands, trying to convey the size of the machine. “It was meant to take her to other worlds so she could study them and learn about them, but there was an accident. And next thing I knew, I was here, lying in a graveyard and getting attacked by Hollows.” I shrugged. “That’s when you showed up and saved me.”

When I finished my story, he nodded, but said nothing.

As the silence stretched on, I started to twiddle my thumbs. With the way he kept his face hidden behind the helmet, I couldn’t read him. I didn’t know if he believed me or just thought I was insane. Perhaps a little of both.

“The bonfires that litter this land are extensions of the First Flame, the primordial power that brought light and life to our world,” Mister Knight began. “Now, though, its power fades, and the curse of the undead draws us towards it in hopes that we might rekindle the power that built this land.” He held out his hand toward the fire. “To aid us on that journey, these bits of flame restore our strength, repair our gear, and serve as our guides as we struggle toward our fate.”

I blinked twice. “What?”

Mister Knight cleared his throat. “You asked if there was something special about these fires. The answer is yes. There is.”

“Oh.” After a second, my eyes went wide. “Wait, then does that mean you believe me?”

He shook his head. “The world you describe is preposterous to me. Nothing more than a dream cooked up by an overeager imagination. Still, it’s clear from your dress and your knowledge that you are not from this land.” He lifted his head and gazed up into the sky. “If this journey has taught me anything so far, it is that many things exist in this world that I would never have believed had I not seen them with my own eyes. Perhaps your world is among them.”

“I hope so,” I muttered. “I miss it.”

Grunting, he stood and snatched up his shield. “You won’t find your way home sitting here.” He raised a hand, pointing to the bell tower looming over the next rise. “Firelink Shrine is just beyond this arena. If there is a way home for you, you will be able to pick up the trail there.”

“If you say so.” I rose, feeling the bones in my back pop as I stretched.

“Sunset?”

“Yeah?”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah. Well, I’ve learned that honesty is usually the best policy and all that.”

“Here. You should have this back.” He reached into one of his hip pockets and pulled a small, rectangular object from it. I recognized the floral case instantly. He held my cell phone out towards me. “It fell from your pocket when I was trying to move you.”

Squinting at him, I took my phone. “Were you planning on keeping it?”

“After that stunt you pulled fighting the Judge, wasn’t sure it would be safe to travel with you without knowing anything about you. Thought this might hold a clue to where you’re from,” he grumbled. “But now that I know, I’ve got no use for it.”

“I see.” I tapped the button on the side of the phone. The screen lit up and flashed an error across the screen. Still, beneath the error, I could see a picture of myself sitting on a beach. Behind me, I could see the waves of the ocean frozen in time. A lanky, purple-skinned girl sat shoulder-to-shoulder with me. Both of us were smiling. I felt a burden slip from my shoulders as I recognized her face. “Twilight.”

“You alright?” Mister Knight asked.

“Yeah.” I pressed the phone screen to my chest. Even without the picture in front of me, I could remember what Twilight looked like now. After taking a minute to reminisce, I decided it would be best to turn my phone off and return it to my jacket pocket. “Are you ready to keep going?”

Mister Knight nodded.

Together, we stepped away from the bonfire, heading for the opposite end of the arena we’d entered from. Here, we were faced with the same door that stopped us before. This time, though, there was something extra. Lying just in front of the door, another coiled sword. The same sort that formed the core of both bonfires I’d seen so far. I vaguely recalled the one we’d taken from the Judge’s chest. This must have been it. The Knight put it on his back with his shield.

When he pressed against the doors this time, they opened with minimal resistance. On the other side, we found another graveyard. I’d grown numb to the sight of graves by now. At the very least, these ones appeared to be more organized than the rest. The lines of graves continued up the hill, up to the precipice of the cliff where the shrine awaited. Several more Hollows were scattered around the grounds, lying among the gravestones or looking wistfully over the cliff edges. Either way, they didn’t notice us or didn’t care enough to stop us.

As we neared the shrine, I got a better look at it. It was larger than I first thought, with the main building standing maybe two or three stories tall. Off the side, the belltower stood over three times as high. Another smaller tower sat on the right, with a bridge connecting them. Instead of a front door, the shrine had a massive stone archway that led inside. Two lit torches on either side of the opening shed their light inside. Even from out here, I could smell stale soot.

The Knight entered first. Once I was sure we weren’t about to get jumped, I followed him inside. The smell of ash grew stronger, until my eyes started to water. The front archway let us in on a stone balcony overlooking a large, circular main chamber. To either side a flight of stairs led to darker upper hallways. Alongside those, two more sets led down into the chamber. Across from us, five thrones of varying sizes took up the back of the room. The smallest looked to be made for a normal sized man, while the largest had a seat the size of a queen mattress. From here, I could see a man sitting on the smallest one, just to the right of the center throne.

Below, a series of rings formed steps down to the center of the chamber, a cold brazier. A woman in an ashen gray dress stood beside the cold hearth with her hands folded in front of her. Off to the side, another man sat alone on the steps, his head downcast. Similar to my companion Knight, he wore most of a plate suit that covered everything but his face. A red tattered cape hung around his shoulders, hiding most of a large two-handed sword he kept strapped to his back. From somewhere deeper into the shrine, I could hear rhythmic clanging.

“There are other people here?” I whispered.

“Like I said, this shrine calls to the undead. They gather here to prepare for their journey,” he said as he scanned the room.

“Then, these people are cursed, like us?”

“More than likely.” Knight started down a flight of stairs.

One we moved deeper in, more of the shrine came into view. Beneath the walkway where we entered, a tunnel bored back down under the cliff. From here, I could see another woman sitting, tucked away in one of the tunnel’s alcoves. Like the one near the fire, she wore a dusty dress. Unlike the other lady, this one looked ancient. At the end of the hall I could see another man. He appeared to be shirtless and swinging a hammer at an anvil. His smithing produced the metal clang that echoed through the shrine.

We shuffled past the hopeless looking knight. He didn’t bother to acknowledge us as we passed. As we reached the bottom steps, the stone floor gave way to an uneven layer of ash. I could hear it crunch underfoot as Mister Knight and I approached the woman standing at the center of the chamber.

Up closer now, I could see that, despite the silver braid running down the back of her dress, she was young, perhaps just a few years older than I was. The dirty gray dress that I had seen was in fact only a cape she wore. Her actual dress, black, lacy, and adorned in silver accents, reached down to the floor, dragging through the soot as she moved around. Her arms and hands were wrapped in leather, leaving only the fingers exposed. Strangest of all, she wore some sort of silver tiara around her head, but wore it low enough that it covered the top half of her face, including her eyes.

As we approached she turned her head toward us. Despite the jewelry covering her eyes, she seemed to be staring directly at Mister Knight. “Welcome to the bonfire, Unkindled One.”

Mister Knight and I shared a glance.

“I think she’s talking to you,” I said.

“Right.” He turned toward the woman. “You were expecting us? Who are you?”

The woman smiled warmly. “I am a Fire Keeper. I tend to the flame, and tend to thee.” Though she appeared young, she spoke with a soft, kind, and motherly voice. A voice that sort of reminded me of a Princess I once knew. That thought turned my stomach. As Mister Knight and the Fire Keeper spoke, I slipped away.

My thoughts lingering on home –my real home– I wandered around the shrine. Right now, it felt too large. I wanted to find someplace smaller. A little nook where I could slink away for a while to think. With that thought in mind, I pushed deeper into the shrine’s tunnels.

“And so, a lost lamb wandereth in.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin as the old woman beside me sprang to life.

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on you,” I sputtered.

“No need to be so timid, Young One.” She smiled at me with a toothy grin. “Have you come seeking aid on your journey? I’ve lots of little things to ease the burden of a weary traveler.” With a decrepit hand, she motioned to a pile of supplies beside her chair. Some strange purple moss, a few of the firebombs I’d used against the Judge, bones, a small assortment of weapons and shields, and what I thought might have been a dried up, gnarled hand.

“Oh.” I fought the urge to take a generous step back. “I’m afraid I don’t have any money at the moment. Perhaps I’ll return later.”

“What use is there for coins in this land, Child? Bring me souls.”

“S-souls?” This time, I did take a step back. “Look, I’m alright for now, thank you.”

“If that is thy wish, Child. Know that I will be here when you return.” She gave a soft cackle. That was enough for me to turn my back and walk away. I kept my arms crossed over my chest, feeling my skin crawling as her gaze lingered on me.

Once past the strange . . . I guessed she was some sort of shopkeeper, the tunnel widened into an underground cavern. The stone path beneath my feet became a bridge over the rough, uncut rock of the rest of the room. A few candles set out along the path provided a few flickering lights to guide me. At the end of the bridge, a set of stairs on either side led down into the dark.

Before that, though, there was one last person in my way. A large man wearing a thick pair of pants with an apron and some heavy leather boots and gloves. He was hunched over an anvil, hammering away at a damaged sword. His exposed chest revealed an impressive display of muscles, but also a fair share of burns that wrinkled his skin. His bushy gray beard and ponytail shook with each swing of his hammer.

I tried to sneak past him. With him lost in his work, it should have been easy. But, as I passed, he brought his hammer down one final time and let it sit there. His head snapped up towards me. He had a strong jawline and hardened features. I braced myself, fearing that I’d somehow angered him with just my mere presence.

“Well, well, a newcomer?” His voice, low and deep, reminded me of coarse gravel.

“Y-yeah,” I said, nodding.

“Tis’ a pleasure. I am Andre.” Despite his rugged appearance and booming voice, I found myself growing less rigid with each word.

“I’m Sunset. Nice to meet you,” I said with a slight smile.

“Well, Sunset, I’d wager you aren’t from around these lands, are ye?”

My smile faded. “That obvious, huh?”

The smith chuckled and pointed toward me with his hammer. “In all my years a’ smithing, I’ve never seen armor like that before.”

I tugged at my jacket collar, pulling it tight. “It’s not armor.”

“Ah? Apologies, I meant no disrespect.” He cleared his throat. “Tell me, have y’ come to these lands in search of the Lords of Cinder? It will be a toilsome journey. And with gear like that, yer not liable to make it far.”

“Lords of Cinder?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

The smith frowned. “Ah. When I heard the bells tolling, I had assumed . . .” he shook his head. “Tell me then, Sunset, what brings a young one such as yerself out to this shrine?”

“It . . . wasn’t on purpose.” I frowned. “I got lost. A friend brought me here hoping that I might be able to find a way back home.”

Andre sighed. “I am afraid I would not be much aid to you in that endeavor. I am but a simple smith, I know little of magic and maps.” He straightened up. “You speak as though your journey ahead will be a difficult one. In dangerous lands like these, y’ best be prepared before you set out.” He stayed quiet for a time. In the silence, I could feel him looking me up and down, studying me. “Y’ be needing armor and weapons for your task. Allow me to smith them for you. Tis’ my purpose, after all.”

“R-really?” I didn’t care much for his offer. As likely as it would be that I needed his assistance, I didn’t relish the idea of fighting often enough that I would need a personal smith to supply me. Still, it was a kind offer and, though I hadn’t known him long, Andre seemed to be a decent man. He made me feel like I had a place here, that I should have been welcome in this place. It wasn’t exactly a high bar to be the most welcoming person in the shrine so far, but it made the darkness a little bit brighter. “That’s kind of you to offer. Thanks.”

With my acceptance, he returned to his smithing, filling the shrine with the sound of hammer striking metal. This time, when it echoed through the shrine, the sound brought with it a hint of hope and comfort.

After speaking with Andre for a bit, I finally made my way down one of the stairs. As I stepped off, my foot splashed into a puddle. I sighed, but pushed on toward a pile of tombstones nearby. I sat on one of them that had tilted over. A column of light poured down from a hole in the stone ceiling, offering me a little more light than the candles could muster. Here, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the rock wall.

My eyes opened when I heard a splash beside me. I turned to see Mister Knight standing there.

“Hey,” I said, waving at him.

“I see you decided to take a tour of the shrine without me.”

“You seemed busy,” I said with a shrug.

“I brought you something.” He offered me a leather satchel, similar to the one he wore on his belt. It had a long leather strap on it, similar to a purse strap from my world.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Open it.”

After a second or two of fumbling with the buckle on the front, I flipped open the satchel to find two bottles fit snugly inside. One green, one gray. It took a while before I recognized the long, wide-necked silhouette.

“Your healing potions?” I asked, looking up with him.

“Not mine.” He patted his hip, where his own satchel hung.

“These are . . . for me?” I felt my grip loosen. “Thank you. I’ll keep them close.” I hung the leather strap on my shoulder, allowing the satchel to hang at my hip, just like Mister Knight’s. “Are you sure? Given how you’re the one playing frontline, I would have thought you might need them more.”

Mister Knight glanced down at the floor. “About that . . .”

My throat dried. “Listen,” I started, “I know that I haven’t been the most useful traveling companion. I mean, you’ve had to save me, what, three, four times now? And I’m really sorry for that.” I closed my eyes. “I want to start pulling my weight. But it’s been so long since I handled a sword, and even then I never used it to kill. But I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Sunset.”

I took a deep breath. “Yeah?”

“I’m afraid this is where we part ways.”

Author's Note

Heyo, back with another note here. And something that I should have said back at the beginning of this piece. This is a side project that I'm working on while my editor is working on other things. I do try to look over it myself, but I'm also an idiot, so there's a lot that I miss. Let me know in the comments if you see some errors and I'll fix them.