Twice Chosen

[Eileen the Crow]

A great, unimaginable burning heat, a flame so intense that it blazed a trail right past pain and straight to purification. One would have supposed that with this would come peace, or at the very least the empty, mindless hollowed state that had claimed Gwyn, and for a short while, it seemed that was just what the Chosen Undead had gotten...until he noticed the grinning, leering figure lurking in the great void of darkness. What he said was rather...odd, some might have an incredibly difficult time comprehending what was being said, but well, the Chosen was able to grasp at least a couple other things. He was being yanked out of his own time and world...again, and that apparently instead of using souls as the key to all things, he would be using some....Omni...thing instead. There would be others where he was going, and then the strange being named Omni vanished, and the void consumed the inheritor of the First Flame...

There was light, that came to him suddenly, there was light bearing down on his eyelids, falling in slanted bars through the visor of his metal helm. He could also feel heat, an intense, sweltering heat, comparable to those magma coated depths down in the ruins of Lost Izalith. It was a rather puzzling thing considering what he had just gone through, and so he went and did the simplest way to find out what was going on, he opened his eyes. Above him sprays of liquid fire arced above him, splashing elegantly into twin pools. The Chosen Undead himself was laid across a stone bier his arms folded in front of him. The arcing fire was above him though, far enough that he could hazard sitting up, and so he did, his armor scraping along the stone as he looked about. Yes, he was indeed laid upon a stone bier set upon a rounded stone platform, with just a narrow walkway leading out of what was a good sized fountain of fire. Well, at least fate had kept its sense of humor despite the change in location. Well he was getting nowhere simply sitting upon this stone bed, so he slid off the bier and settled onto his feet, stamping them a couple times. His armor felt fine and intact, which was good...although his sword and shield were gone, an unpleasant revelation. Still he could do without for a moments, just as soon as he got his bearings.

Thus he started down the path, he had walked more treacherous walkways, and this pathway seemed quite well built, not crumbling into the pools of fire or anything! Yet, as he reached the edge of it, he stopped. What Omni appearing before him had failed to do, the pure, blank whiteness of the Nexus had accomplished...he was stunned. Was this fountain even set into anything, or was it just floating in a great white void? There were steps leading down it, but then they just went away into whiteness! With trepidation he started down the grey stone steps, and then stopped where they completely vanished into pure white. That was where he knelt down, getting onto one knee. One hand reached out to that whiteness, and hit a solid surface, it wasn't slippery, but it was remarkably smooth on his glove. Still it bolstered his confidence as the Chosen stood back up, and then strode forward onto the endless white and...didn't plummet to his death. Of course this place could still be like those accursed mines back in Seath's domain, but for now he just had to step carefully.

Now...what to do next...

[Eileen the Crow]

Well, walking seemed like a great idea for a next step, but well he had absolutely no idea where he was, or what was going on, other than that he was somewhere new at the behest of some magical being called Omni. From past experience, generally being somewhere you had no idea of was a good way to get your guts torn out, especially if you had not a single weapon to your name, so he needed a weapon first. Yet, how to get a weapon? He didn't exactly have a blacksmith's forge right at hand, but then he remembered what that strange being had taken him, think of what he desired most. Now, that in and of itself wasn't particularly helpful, but the being had also said that using that...Omni...whatever it was, should come naturally. So, the Chosen Undead knelt down again, getting into the state of one who is praying, a state he had taken much in his days of miracle casting in Lordran...and he thought, he thought of a weapon, a sword...the sword of a close friend...a lost friend. A weapon grandly called, the Sunlight Straight Sword, a fancy name for such a plain, simple weapon. He knew every detail of that sword, its length, the grey, dully shining steel, the long, straight crossguard, like a bar set lengthwise against the sword. The hand and a half hilt, good for one handed or two handed play. It had little ornamentation, little decoration...but it was a fine weapon, sturdy and reliable.

As the Chosen Undead visualized this fondly held weapon, he was doing...something, something strange. He could feel...something seeping out of his body, it felt...a bit like what happened when he traded souls with someone, or cast them into the bonfire to enhance his physical abilities. While he didn't quite know what he was doing, he did notice the flashes of light, a rainbow of colors falling upon his helm and upon the stone floor and white, featureless ground that melded together. He felt a great desire to look up towards the source of that light, but kept in this state of prayer, he knew something was happening, but he was not sure what. Seconds ticked by as he kept that image of the Sunlight Straight Sword firmly in mind, and that light continued to dazzle, flash and flicker upon the ground, seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes wore on, his knees started to ache, but he was used to dealing with far worse pains, and ignored it...until, that rainbow light started to coalesce into a single, solid light...and then it vanished! Then, a metallic clanging rang out, as the Sunlight Straight Sword fell to the ground, making the Chosen start as he looked up, and stared in astonishment.

That was it, the very sword he had carried since Solaire's tragic descent into madness in that accursed realm of Lost Izalith! Tentatively he reached a hand out, and wrapped his fingers around the hilt. It had a real weight, a real heft that he was intimately familiar with. Slowly he stood up, sword in hand, his other hand went under the blade, leather glove running along the length of it, as he stared down in wonder at the sword in his hands. This was it...somehow, with this strange new power, he had...created? Summoned? Conjured? He did not know, but the sword was back in his hands! A surge of confidence ran through his being, with naught but a sword and shield he had stood toe to toe with titans, giants, and horrific, massive monstrosities. He had slain Kalameet and even Manus, lord of the Abyss with naught but sword and shield! With such tools there was nothing he would fear to stand against, but of course, he had only a sword, he still needed a shield. That did not feel like such a problem, and again the Chosen Undead knew exactly which shield to use, to summon or create, whichever he was doing. This time he did not kneel down, no he wanted to see it this time. He imagined the shield of a group, an organization that he had loved hearing tales of as a child in distant Astora. A simple kite shield, its surface seemingly made of silver, with grooves carved in a beautiful, sloping pattern.

Just as before that power seeped out of him as he imagined that shield, easy to carry and use, and with a far better ability to reduce damage from elemental attacks than most other shields the Chosen had ever managed to find. His eyes widened behind the visor of his helm, as rainbow light coalesced into a shimmering sphere, an opaque bubble of liquid, shimmering light! It rippled through all the colors, rippling from one to the other as the Chosen Undead stared on in sheer wonder and delight, it was perhaps one of the few things of true beauty he'd seen in his life, it wasn't just magical but fantastic as well. Oh sure he'd grow more accustomed to it with time he was sure, but for now it was new, it was bright, it was colorful! Over the course of several minutes the colours rippled, and then coalesced, collapsing together until, right before his eyes, the shield of Gwyn's famed Silver Knights appeared before him! Quickly he caught it before it could fall, and then slipped his left arm into the handle on the back of it. Just as with the sword, it had that familiar heft and weight to it, he brought it across his chest and then swept it aside in a practice parry, and smiled behind his helm. With sword and shield he had faced down the greatest threats Lordran could offer, even up to the Lord of Sunlight himself. Armed as he was, he felt confident and strong. It was a strange new world he found himself in, but he was armed, ready, and prepared for just about anything!

So with a spring to his step, and the sword sheathed at his waist, the shield resting on his back, the Chosen Undead started off. He knew not which direction he was heading, or what would be waiting for him as he went further on, but no progress was ever made by standing around! So he headed off, and while he did not realize it, he headed South, towards the hours distant gate, the gate to the Frozen Fields.