Dearth of Gold (Elden Ring X Fairy Tail)

A guardian bereft of purpose, once felled and twice blossomed

The whisper of cresting waves wakes Malenia.

Bleary eyes stare up at the overcast sky, blinking lazily as her mind slowly begins to work once more. A shorter dream this time, not of bloodshed but of battle. Declined though she was, she finally met her match.

Then there was fire and gold.

She slowly moves her fingers and toes, unbothered by the ground digging into her back. Getting feeling back into her remaining limbs is how she always wakes. The Rot yet churns within her bosom, if strangely tame.

Perhaps it relates to the fact she can see once more.

Malenia is shocked, but does not express it. Releasing the Rot to overcome General Radahn in the field cost her sight. She has not seen in an age, but the sensation is just as she recalls.

The scent of salt fills her nose, birdsong her ears. Those senses are enough to ensure no threat is nearby, so Malenia indulges in soaking up her surroundings. It is a rocky outcropping near some sort of beach, untouched by civilisation. Not a single corpse dots the sand, nor does flotsam beyond the occasional driftwood.

She slowly sits up and absently flexes her right hand, then realises it is still gone. Whatever restored her eyes did not give back the limb lost so long ago. Her leg, too, remains gone.

There is nobody here to ask questions of, so Malenia does not bother asking where she might be. The mere fact no tree crests the horizon in any direction tells her enough. The Erdtree can be seen from countries away, and so can the Haligtree. Malenia can not see or feel either, same as their offshoots.

At the same time, there is no sense of pressure beyond what she herself exudes. The air is clear and fresh, far richer than she recalls. It is serene here, tempting Malenia to just sit and watch for another age. She waited so long, what is a few more hundred years?

She indulges that desire for only a few minutes, eyes the only part of her that moves. Then a glint of gold draws Malenia's attention downward, to where a familiar prosthetic rests on the ground. It lost its shine long ago, nicked from countless exchanges and battles. Yet it has stayed true to her and followed even in this unfamiliar realm.

It takes a moment to readjust to her prosthetic leg, then Malenia crouches down to pick up her weapon. The metal arm attaches to her shoulder just fine, though her winged helmet is nowhere to be seen.

Slow steps take Malenia to the shore, sand crunching under her feet. She feels good, all in all. Better than she has in a long while. Examining her reflection in the water reveals that part of this is because of her body; the pockmarks of Rot are still there on her arm and around her eyes, but they faded somewhat. She is not pristine, but restored to an extent.

Perhaps the entity she dreamed of is responsible? Details escape her, but they do not matter now. She is here, wherever here is. She is not dead.

Then another thought shakes the final cobwebs from her mind: Miquella. Her brother never did come home, no matter how long she waited. Is he in this world too? Or perhaps it was he who sent her here?

Malenia's presence intensifies, calling out to her kin. The air grows quiet, animals flee and even the waves flatten. She is a demigoddess, and an Empyrean at that. Had she so desired, she could have laid claim to the Elden Ring and instated her own law upon the world. Now every fibre of her being calls into the world for her twin.

Just like in the past, no answer comes. Malenia's shoulders slump and the pressure cuts off. Life returns to the world, though the animals keep away.

She knows it need not mean anything. He may just be too far away to hear her call. But still.

Malenia heaves a sigh and leans into the ocean breeze. The wind plays with her crimson hair and makes her cape billow, just as it ruffles her robe.

Now that her mind is truly awake, curiousity takes over. She has nowhere to go and no goal to follow, but she does want to know where she is. Looking around only reveals ocean all the way to the horizon, but the other direction is taken up by a hill large enough to block sight.

Turning her back to the sea, Malenia flips back the long blade integrated in her prosthetic arm. She is not going into battle, so it will only slow her down for now. Her legs bend and she leaps a hundred metres high, easily clearing the rocks surrounding the beach. Trees and animals fly by as she hits the ground running.

A minute later, Malenia stands at the highest peak on this island. And an island it is, covered by forest. She gazes into the distance, but there is not a trace of land in any direction.

This could be a problem.

Once it becomes clear there is no way off beside swimming, Malenia's gaze lowers to the island. She can see a village from her vantage point, nestled against another hill's side. The place is too far for her eyes to discern anything beyond some moving shapes. But civilisation means she may be able to acquire a boat.

Her next goal set, she begins walking down the hill. There are obvious signs of habitation up here too, something like an altar. Perhaps a religious site for whatever rituals the locals perform.

The notion has Malenia muse on what burial rites may be practiced in these lands. Without an Erdtree, there can be no Erdtree burial after all; how are the souls of heroes reincarnated if there is no great tree to consume their mortal remains first?

Her idle thoughts are interrupted by a rustling noise among the trees, just loud enough to be heard. Malenia's head turns and her gaze pins down a... giant... rat?

The sight is odd enough to give even a seasoned warrior pause. Malenia stares at the rodent and its pale cyan fur. It is easily twice her size, not at all coloured to fit into this biome. Furthermore, someone put a ruffled, white headband on it.

"What in the world?"

Whatever the creature is, it froze up the moment their eyes met. Now it drops to the ground at the sound of her voice, eyes closed and motionless. Malenia considers killing it anyway, but decides against it. A beast that plays dead at the mere sight of her will have recognised the threat she represents. And if it is a pet, then she does not need to make needless enemies.

So Malenia moves on, her gait far more sedate on the way down. She still has some time before nightfall.

An eventless stroll later, she comes to stand in front of a sizable palisade. Certainly sufficient to keep out what local wildlife she spotted, though no more. Any troll could break through with but a few swings. She would need only one.

"Halt!" a voice shouts from above; the guards have their weapons lowered, but they are wary nonetheless. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"I am Malenia, Blade of Miquella," she introduces herself. "I found myself ashore not long ago, now I seek guidance."

Her voice carries without any need to raise it, silk hiding steel as always. There is a long pause during which Malenia wonders if she can even still call herself Blade of Miquella. Perhaps a new moniker is needed for a new world, at least until she knows if he is here as well.

Her musings are cut off when the guard calls out to her after some quiet discussion with his partner: "You are better served leaving, stranger! Lest the curse take you too!"

The word 'curse' piques Malenia's interest, but she keeps that to herself for now. Instead she offers a simple fact in response: "I do not have the means to leave this island, I am afraid."

More discussion between them, loud enough for her to hear it happens but too quiet to discern the words. In the end the gate is opened for her, though the guardsman seems to have second thoughts when they stand face to face; Malenia stands at over two metres tall, easily a head taller than him. His gaze occasionally flickers between the blade attached to her prosthetic arm and her scarred face.

From where she stands, she can now see part of a small tribal village. They have little huts and tents instead of actual houses. A handful of villagers stare curiously, but also with some wariness due to her appearance. Malenia is dressed for war after all. Her garments stand out starkly in comparison to their light state of dress.

"Aren't you dressed a bit too thick for the heat?" the other guard asks, trying to break the ice with a joke.

Malenia inclines her head.

"Ordinarily, yes. But I am quite resistent to the elements, so it is no matter."

"Oh. I see."

The second man glances up at the sky and grimaces, then motions her forward. "Let's get you to the elder, ma'am."

She follows without hesitation and takes the time to observe her surroundings some more.

There is a sense of tension, but not only because of her. She spots ropes and manacles being cleaned by forlorn people. Many look up to the sky more and more, though it cleared up from earlier. The sun is long past its zenith, too.

They reach the elder's slightly larger tent in silence, only to be confronted with a bent old man. He stares up at Malenia with something akin to glee.

"Is it finally time?" he asks happily. "Someone finally came to get rid of this curse? Which guild are you from, miss?"

The questions confuse Malenia slightly; she gets the overall meaning, but none of the details that are implied. Still, she shakes her head and pre-empts the guardsman from answering in her stead.

"I am not a member of any such guild, elder. As it is, I am but a lost traveler in need of directions and a boat," she explains, which makes the elder's fledgling hope die as if rotted away. She feels a little uncomfortable, although there is an opportunity here. "But as I do not carry currency, perhaps I can see about this curse in exchange for your aid?"

Her offer is answered with a mirthless huff.

"Bah. Not in a guild, not here for the curse, probably not even a wizard. Reckon there isn't much you can do, lass. I guess you can stay until we send someone to port for trade, but you'll do your part around here. Get it?"

Be it old age or sheer irreverence, his not being intimidated by her in the slightest earns Malenia's respect. The man before her is steadfast, even if foolish. His offer may not be what she hoped for, but it is certainly better than what she could have gotten.

"That is acceptable."

He nods and makes a motion to a nearby tent. "You can use Bobo's tent. Not like he needs it anymore."

The last grumble is accompanied by a pained grimace Malenia knows well. Loss.

"My condolences."

The elder waves her off absently and settles down in a little chair. "Not your fault, lass. Curse took him. You'll see soon enough."

Malenia glances to the guardsman, who only has a minute shrug to offer. So she leaves the elder be and inspects her temporary dwelling; less than what she is used to, but perfectly serviceable. Little different from sleeping in tents while on campaign. Though the handful of children spying on her is unusual. Malenia just pretends not to notice them and they leave her be.

The rest of the day is spent inspecting her gear and observing the village. Malenia studies their activities and how best to apply her own abilities, which seems to be hunting. She does not know how to fish or craft beyond maintaining her things.

But the unease continues to grow as night falls. Several people are shackled in the village's center without rhyme or reason. Any gender, any age. Nobody even resists and if anything, the jailors appear more heartbroken than those whose arms and legs they bind.

Then the moon rises and a shudder crawls down Malenia's back. Before her eyes the entire village transforms into beasts of a sort, some partly and some in full. Protruding horns, discoloured and leathery skin, tails, even wings are on display. Even the elder appears like a purple gremlin now, not like a normal old man.

Those bound have also transformed, though none of them act any different. The villagers quickly unbind them with visible relief under the purple moon's light.

"This is the curse then?" Malenia asks of the elder, who nods gravely.

"Yes. Every night we turn into demons. Some of us lose their minds entirely, so we have to put them down for the village's safety. It's only a matter of time. It's the moon, I tell you."

He points upward at the nearly full moon shining upon the village. Malenia's skin prickles as she looks up as well. Ranni might know what to do here, she thinks. Her half-sister was a studied witch and lunar princess at that. Malenia is not a magic user, at least not in any comparable sense.

A butterfly flutters past her, dark as the night. Her skin still tingles. And with a start, Malenia realises that the Rot is flowing forward unbidden.

Her hand lashes out to crush the butterfly, the sudden motion catching her host's attention. He just heaves a sigh, unaware of the danger.

"Figures that you would be hit, too. Don't let it get to you, lass."

"That is not what this is," Malenia denies absently. Her focus lies on the Rot, how it flows almost like blood again. She remembers that feeling from her final battle at the roots of Miquella's Haligtree. It crawls underneath her skin, festers in her gut, but it does not surge uncontrolled. No, even now it does not spread indefinitely.

Malenia shifts her clothes as cancerous growths emerge from her shoulder blades. Crimson vines stretch outward for several metres, between them membranes of countless black butterflies. It feels right, even though the moonlight is what coaxes out the rot. But more than that, it is stable. She does not need to fight the Rot to keep it under control.

Calling forth her true nature that she keeps shackled. It can be a coincidence, but it could also mean something else about this village. But the display of shackling their own was clearly not meant to deceive her.

A thoughtful noise from the elder draws Malenia's attention back. The demon studies her with renewed interest.

"If it is not the same, then what is it?"

"A curse of my own, one that I carried since birth. It is stable for now, certainly drawn out by the moon, but not demonic. Do not touch it," Malenia cautions a particularly curious child. "lest you be infested and die a painful death."

The little boy quickly withdraws with wide eyes. Many others become wary, though nowhere near what she expected for a revelation of her nature. Perhaps they see a kindred spirit feel sympathy, or they simply do not conceive of her unleashing the Rot on them.

"Maybe you can do it after all," the elder muses, even as he takes a few steps back from her. "Say, can those wings lift you? Can you reach the moon and destroy it to undo this vile curse?"

The answer to his first question is simple. At the same time, Malenia has options now. With her wings available and under control, she can simply fly for the nearest land. The villagers were not rude outside their elder's flippant behaviour, but she does not owe them anything either. She could leave. She could just as well indulge and stay a few days to investigate this curse, it is curious enough to spend time on. Or she could apply the faster solution of slaying them all, then salvage what is useful to her.

Flexing her wings under the awed and somewhat intimidated villager's eyes, she considers what to say.

---

[] Agree to investigate the curse

[] Refuse and leave at first light

[] Eradicate the village

Note: Write-ins are allowed in my Quests unless a vote explicitely says they are not. I added a policy threadmark on the front page for any rules that come up or that I think of. You can check back there if you need a reminder.

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Congratulations, you chose Malenia. She who is deemed the (currently) hardest boss in FromSoft games and holds that title while (most likely) blind.

For the purposes of actually having a story beyond "must not unleash Rot", I fiat the Rot as being under her control after the second blossoming in her boss fight. Nonetheless, please use your warcrimes-on-demand responsibly.

Merry Christmas!