Into the Dark

[Roger Smith]

Undead.

The word stirred something in him to hear it said aloud, even though he had passed over it many times in his thoughts. It called him back to his service under Lord Gwyn. Had he not been one of the highest ranking of the Knights of the Lord of Sunlight, he shuddered to think of what might have happened. Rarely had he the time to go on the frantic search many Undead had for Humanity to keep his mind about him. Only his iron-strong determination and adherance to his Lord's orders and his duty had kept his mind from unravelling like so many other Undead who had no Humanity to keep them in check.

But even so, that could not completely halt the process. His mind slowly, but surely, began to come apart at the seams, through sheer age as much as the inexorable crawl of an Undead's Hollowing. Countless ages passed, and the Fire began to die. Gwyn departed to repair it, but Artorias had already been too far gone to notice. He had gone to Oolacile, to fend off the encroach of Manus, Father of the Abyss, and finally his mind had come undone under the crashing waves of the Dark.

He had gone completely Hollow, and his unquenchable hunger for Souls and Humanity both, long held in check, burst forth unchecked. He became nearly as bad as the Dark he was possessed and corrupted by, given more strength than he had on his own, even as the stress broke his body and mind further.

The Chosen Undead killing him had been a mercy, all things considered.

Here and now, he was free of the crushing grip of Manus and the Abyss, but...his mind was still in tatters. Hollowing was not a process easily reversed, if it could be done at all, whether it had been forced upon one or not.

He shook his head slowly, the memories coming through to his mind in stunning clarity after so long muddling through even simple thoughts. But as soon as he tried to focus on them, to gain ground to find his other scattered memories, his mind went dark again, back into the murk of almost-Hollowing. He sighed deeply, seeming to sag even further into weariness, making a wordless grunt of acquiescence to the newcomer's request, giving a faint nod of his head as he did.