Chapter Text
“I doubt you could even imagine it.”
Alagos’ soft voice was colder than the Snowfield, as he spoke through a wintry smile. Shock and anger coursed through her, but she mastered them for now, replacing them instead with honed sternness.
This was a problem. It was quite clearly a problem; and therefore she turned all her attention towards solving it. It was a familiar rhythm from the Shattering, a retracing of old steps, a walk down memory lane in working to counter a disaster- and yet there was something strangely different about the matter, as not one solution made itself apparent.
She searched the depths of her soul for an answer, and emerged empty-handed. She did not even know what to call it- a betrayal of trust, or of friendship? An act of paranoia? Some long-running plot in the shadows?
She dismissed that last thought at once through force of reasoning; if he truly had aimed to kill her, it would have been far simpler to appear in Death’s company after having shown him the way to the Haligtree. It could clearly not have been a case of affirming whether she was a danger to the things he loved before choosing to strike, as she was entirely certain she herself ranked foremost in that list.
Was he ashamed of his association with the Death of the Demigods? She doubted it- there was not a trace of shame or weariness on that face.
“In fact, you cannot.” Alagos continued. “I should have known you would find it impossible to leave another to their happiness if it meant some petty vengeance for a lost victory you were never owed in the first place.”
This? asked Miquella. This was our Gurranq?
Sister and brother were struck equally speechless.
“Thou wretched, conceited fool.” Ranni replied, and Malenia was startled to find that there was no venom in the voice- only pity, and the same weariness Alagos often carried. And perhaps pity was a calculated gesture, as she knew very well that it was the emotion both she and Alagos despised most of all. “There are matters for which world bendeth not to thy will, and thou’rt not its centre. Not all that passeth hath its cause within thee. I cannot fault thee for keeping thine association with Death from me- no doubt he bade thee to lead him here, to strike at my very soul if need be to avenge the suffering wrought by the Shattering, for I would have done the same in thy place. And yet- keeping the truth from her, whom thou profess to love?” She turned to Malenia, her face- a lifeless, unnatural, construct-face, as she dimly processed- contorting in a puppet’s mockery of gentle understanding. The sentiment was as entirely manufactured as the face that showed it.
“Thou may be mine Empyrean peer, sister, and thus sworn by instinct to see the end of me- but I ask thee to consider, with all the rationality centuries as a General have given thee- what would that gain thee? Thine aims are not opposed to mine. I have been in thy place before, and was deceived by this ravenous creature as thou wast, and I beseech thee to consider my words- ‘tis not too late. Cast away this butcher of kingdoms ere the Haligtree’s branches burn, and claim the throne thou wilt in thy new age. I could not care less, so long as an order wrought by gods doth not touch the lands and their people.”
Malenia wished she could say she answered with a scoff, or with conviction. Instead, she answered as though she were grasping for straws.
“If he wished me gone or dead, he chose a terribly long-winded way of seeing to it.”
Ranni smiled. “Ah, but thou hast not seen as much of humanity as I. What hast thou to claim company? Loyal Knights trained by thine own hand? Lordsworn, in awe of thy majesty, and the victories thou won? Commanders who swore their banners to thee when thou unleashed thine overwhelming strength?”
“I’ve seen Alagos’ heart.” Malenia hissed. “That is enough.”
“I do not doubt what thou hast seen.” Ranni said, gently chiding, as Malenia faintly heard Alagos arguing with Rennala in hushed tones. Doubtless the Queen was stepping in to protect her daughter. “I must ask, however, whether thou hadst a name for all thou beheld, or whether there were elements thou didst not recognise. I have spent many a year in the study of the human mind, and I observed thus: the human condition is to suffer from conflict. If I lie to thee, Malenia, or if thou shouldst lie to me- we would know our lies as the lies they are, and naught more. In that way, conflict doth not ail us. But parts of humanity are often more skilled and subtle in its capacity for deceit than we can be, for in the fog of their conflict, they trust their own lies as truth. I believed I had this liar’s friendship once, and was mistaken, but if part of that friendship had not rung true in his own heart, I would have seen it for a falsehood. Thou might believe thou hast his love now, and mayhap he, too, hath driven himself to believe such- but offer him a choice between thee and the sword placed at our throats, and it would be the last choice thou might offer anyone.”
Anger welled up within her, but it was useless anger, as it lacked focus. Twin spears of fury lanced at Alagos and at Ranni- and she had always considered bidents among the worthless forms of weaponry. And so, she did as she always did- she focused her fury, sweeping aside the matter of Maliketh for the time, and struck at Ranni first. Alagos could be seen to later.
“Is that what you believe?” she asked, radiating proud challenge. “Is that what the cynic who found it necessary to take countless lives for her own purposes, to bring death to an untold count of souls for no fault of their own would propound for truth? Doubtless he forfeit friendship with you, as I cannot imagine you believed it worth anything. You would throw him into the arms of Death, and think the worst of the consequences when by some miracle he was spared?”
“Do not insult me by claiming you saw no opportunity in the Shattering!” Ranni warned, seeming for the first time angry. “The institution of the Haligtree was built upon my ‘crime’, as thou wouldst call it. It was by the blood of my hands that thy brother saw the way to his ascension.”
“We would have found another way!” Malenia thundered. “One that did not necessitate such ruin! It has always been our creed to either find a way of make one.”
“Ah, then I take it back, sister dear,” Ranni said with sardonic sweetness, “for thou learnt more of humanity than I recked if thou couldst take their ability to deceive themselves for thine own. Wouldst thou have done any differently were Miquella in my place? Would he not have done it all if it were thee? What if ye were mine elders, and the first to feel the cold steel wrapping around ye? What if the golden chains had begun to bind ye, stealing breath, blunting will, forcing order upon the chaos of yon souls, as ye were wrought into hollow vessels for the Greater Will? What if Marika’s fate was thine? What if thou and Miquella were regressed into one, ‘perfect’ whole as the Queen mother was with the worm thou called father? I spared ye the burden of that choice. I let ye be heroes in righteous war while I paved the way from the shadows, shouldering the burden of what needed to be done. And ne’er once did I ask any of ye for thanks!”
“I notice you make no mention of the thing to which you sold your soul.” Malenia replied after some thought. She spoke in the same cold monotone with which she would discuss Radahn’s occasional sorties with Finaly and a collection of distinguished Knights. “You traded an interested master for an indifferent one- a cold, dark thing, veiled in occult mystery.”
Even as she thanked Miquella for the description, she perceived a slight change in the congealed magic to the right of Ranni’s face. Her senses told her that the Lunar Princess was somehow curious, which filled her with worry. She set it aside for the time, and continued on, resolute.
“It is a doom that binds you, a silver pull on your soul. I believe humanity calls this notion ‘fate’. Did you think you could hide your nature from me, herald of the Dark Moon? You asked me not to insult your intelligence, and out of respect for your wishes, I ask earnestly: how could you possibly entertain the thought that our aims might even be remotely aligned when you seek the lands between under the eternal night of an Outer God?”
She had thought it a precise strike, a perfect, plunging thrust to the throat. Apparently, it had no more than glanced off her sister’s guard.
Ranni gave a hollow laugh, a sound that seemed somehow wrong from the puppet-body that issued it. “Then I must be the poorest herald there is. Tell me; wouldst thou raise to that rank a herald who was suspicious of thee in all thine efforts’ despite? Wouldst thou let them promulgate thy word if their fascination was tempered with wariness, and if the very first lesson they took from the mentor they loved was to be afeard of thee? Most certainly not- no general would. And neither would the Outer Gods thou knowest- not the Greater Will, which seeks ever to control, and punished Marika for defiance. Not the Scarlet Rot, which- if I am to believe thee- drinks of thy lifeblood and would only grant thee might in moments of darkness.”
“And yet, the Dark Moon has done so.” Miquella murmured faintly, startling her attention.
Be careful, brother. I have a horrible inkling that she might hear you.
“I am aware.” the Lord of the Haligtree replied distantly, raising the metaphorical equivalent of a hand to his chin.
“Sithee!” Ranni- preened, was the right word. “I’ve envied thee thy talents, in some wasted moments of the past. Thou always hadst a talent for observation, didst thou not? Thou’rt a hound for truth, and when truth rears its head, thou ne’er couldst deny it. Why would the Dark Moon see a herald in me? I know thy brother despiseth fate. Would he be glad to hear that I have slain it? The Moon ne’er gave me a fate, or a duty. It showed me opportunity, and the means to see my plans realised. It is the wisdom of the Moon which guideth fate, and the Dark Moon drave death before it in the days before the Golden Order. It is through death that it wove its works, and it was only through death that I could be freed of my chains. What ensueth afterwards? I could not care less. I have done what needs must be done, and freed myself of my ‘fate’ with the strength of mine own hand.”
“What about the Age of Stars?” Miquella prompted, and this time, Ranni actively turned her head.
“Most impressive, if thou learned the use of magic despite the Rot’s hold on thee.” her half-sister commented, with remarkable composure. She held back her sigh of relief, partly out of concerns at whether Ranni had seen through it after all and simply tried to lull her into complacency at seeming to misinterpret the matter.
“And that is all? What of your Age of Stars, sister dear?” the Goddess of Victory asked, leveraging precisely the same sardonic tone Ranni had used. “I seem to recall a certain all-encompassing chill night of ‘cold, dark, doubt, fear and loneliness, in which all the certainties of emotion would become impossibilities’. You claim to have no interest in rule, in which case I am brought to wonder why you have not already left for the night sky- to the Dark Moon, which would afford you power and opportunity. It follows that you must retain interests in these lands- interests that apparently entail wiping all that is beautiful from them, including the very concept of love!”
For a moment, she revelled in victory, as Ranni gave a horribly dissonant gasp, and fell silent.
Then her face twisted.
It was impossible for the puppet to form that expression, as no mortal’s face had ever held it. And the moment she spoke, her perpetually calm, cold voice tinged for the first time with terrible madness, Malenia knew what the expression had meant to be.
She’d known it on her own face many a time. Whomever had sculpted the puppet could never have imagined the fey mirth of the gods.
“Is that-“ Ranni hissed, laughed and roared all at once, “is that what thou believed?”
The question was addressed to Alagos, who swerved from a harrowed-looking Rennala with a duellist’s reflex.
“For thy all purported appreciation of poetic prose- for all thy proven mastery of deceit- thou ne’er once thought to read betwixt the lines?”
Alagos restrained a snarl of anger. It had never helped him in the past with Ranni, after all.
“If your pride had allowed you to pay even the slightest attention to my letters-“
“Ah, but what sense it maketh now!” Ranni interrupted him, still laughing madly. “What a fool I am for being blind to that which was plain! Of course! Of course Alagos the living tempest who slew his rivals by deceit ere they could challenge him would believe in that. How couldst thou do it? How couldst thou possibly deceive me into holding faith in thee?”
“I did not particularly try.” the Tarnished replied icily. “Quite unfortunately, you don’t have anyone else to blame for that error.”
“And doubtless you continue to be blind,” said his dearest Malenia, striding in for his sake, “as you would otherwise have known he is changed. You, most of all, should know that our pasts need not define our futures. The misanthrope you might once have known is no more. That part of him was killed by Millicent. Her mother, Princess Ranni, asks that you answer to why you did not help her when she quite likely saved you from Death’s hands!”
“I owed her naught!” Ranni spat defiantly.
“I couldn’t care less.” Malenia rumbled dangerously, with deadly intent. “In a world in which you had acted, perhaps Millicent would be alive. And since you have never cared in the least about such notions as justice, then by your own logic, I see no reason to conclude your life is worth anything. Let Death take you if it shall appease him. Flee and set your god against us if you must. Miquella and I will prevail, as we always have, and your soul shall answer, shivering before me, for the death of my daughter!”
A headache threatened him, of the same kind he had felt when Malenia had unleashed her Scarlet Aeonia, or that one which had struck him at the Queen’s bedchamber in Leyndell, when Melina had spoken of Marika’s words to Radagon.
Spacetime itself howled in torment, twisted by the wrath of gods.
And then Ranni did the most dangerous, the most terrifyingly effective thing she could possibly have done in that moment- she put her fingertips together and becalmed herself. For a moment, Alagos thought he saw her meet Rennala’s eye, as something unspoken passed between them.
“I am sorry.” Ranni spoke quietly, and his blood boiled in anger at the sadness that coloured her voice, as he instinctively understood that she had seen a weakness that he could not perceive. “I am sorry for my blindness, and mine antagonism to thee. Thou’rt not my foe, my sister. Examine my words, prithee- ne’er once did I say I do not believe him changéd. ‘Tis only that thou believe him wise in his age, when he gave me only unwisdom. Here standeth a man who once believed emotions becoming impossibility, to give way to what he would call ‘rational thought’, meant the good of the world. Why, why on earth would I ever wish for something so senseless?”
And now she pretended to be sympathetic? He was tempted to laugh in despairing rage. Masterful indeed, Ranni, he thought. Part of him- an ashamed part of him- wished he had not come here with Malenia, and instead with Gurranq after all.
“I don’t deny that I was a contemptible fool, and have never done so.” he replied with dignity. “And yet, when you were the only person who could have disabused me of those notions, when it would have benefitted you immensely to do so as I was still in your service, why did you not say a damned word?”
She smiled at him. Her second, spectral face smiled at him- which he knew Malenia couldn’t sense-and he cursed at himself as he knew he had somehow fallen into a trap.
“I had faith in thee!” she said, in such a perfect imitation of grief that for a moment even he doubted whether it wasn’t sincere after all. “I thought I knew thee, as Malenia claimeth to know thee now. Thou ne’er once gave me cause to doubt thee. For once, in my life, thou compelled generosity from me. Is that the lesson thou wishest me to take? That I should have held thee in suspicion, and not once considered thee worthy of trust? That I was wrong to seek a friend in thee?”
“How does this have any relevance-“ he tried, but whatever force he put in the words, he’d have failed.
“Thou wast right, of course. I- I had thought it all a private jest of ours, in truth,” she said, with wistful sadness that claimed to lost innocence, and he wanted to tear the puppet to pieces with his bare hands at such a brazen tactic- “and ne’er once questioned thee when thou regurgitated my words. Thou ne’er understood mine aim at all, in truth.”
“Enough!” rang Malenia’s voice in command, and while Alagos’ half-formed response died on his lips, he noticed dimly that the power in his beloved’s voice had had no effect on Ranni. It was simply convenient for the Lunar Princess to act as though it did, and look patiently to Malenia, the perfect listener.
Flames of old wrath flickered within him, and he missed his mentor’s presence. Gurranq wouldn’t have wasted any time, would he?
“I did not come here to listen to pointless tirades. You keep pivoting, your majesty. It does not matter what Alagos thought of your aim, as you never once voiced it. You claim it is somehow congruent with Miquella’s objectives as you knew them, and have furnished me with no evidence. I cannot imagine an age under an Outer God could possibly coincide with the banishment of the Outer Gods’ influence from these lands?” Malenia spoke in a voice like a storm of swords.
She’ll say anything to save her hide, he desperately wished to communicate.
“And do not think to lie to me.” the Blade of Miquella warned, pre-emptively fitting her hand into the latch on her prosthetic.
“Then hear it from me, in mine own words.” Ranni whispered quietly. “The Age of Stars is my solemn oath to all lives and souls, to embark upon a thousand-year voyage under the law and wisdom of the Moon. My order will be not of gold, but of the stars and moon, and the chill night.”
“Remarkable that you could speak at such length about delusion, and then delude yourself to believe that Miquella and I would ever allow such an order’s reign.”
“Art thou quite finished?” Ranni asked, tilting her head slightly. “Then let me finish as well. ‘Tis simple. I wish to keep mine order far away from this land. Even if life and souls are one with the order, the order itself could be kept far away. ‘Sight, touch, emotion becoming impossibilities’, hah? All I ever meant was if ‘twere not possible to see clearly, touch, feel- and therefore believe in the order, that would be better for all life! Do what thou wilt with the Lands Between when they lie ‘neath the shade of the Moon, for there will be no Outer Gods driving destiny with their puppets and proxies. Raise Miquella to Kingship if thou wishest. Have yonselves revered as gods if ye must. Whether or not people overthrow ye is not my concern. I will have freed myself, and there ne’er will be a soul bound to the same chains I was. There ne’er will be fate or destiny. There ne’er will be another Ranni, forced to choose between losing herself to regression, or setting death athwart the land to free herself.”
“I see. An order of night, that can be thought of as infinitely far away. The illusion of true freedom, the idea that choice means something, simply because the master of fate would have no interest in fate. And yet- would an indifferent universe not lead to doubt and fear? Confusion and uncertainty would reign. No, we cannot have that, can we?” said Miquella.
It was true, of course. Why settle for indifference and opportunity for the ambitious, when they could make abundance and opportunity for all? She knew very well, of course, that paradise was only possible if the order were close to the lands.
Only if there was a benevolent god in rulership over the populace, protecting them from the wiles of the Outer Gods, could all things truly flourish. A god who truly knew their people’s minds must reign as an enlightened King.
She would not lie to herself- Ranni’s aims were admirable, in the context that motivated them. And yet, it simply could not be done. The Age of Stars could not come to pass, if the next epoch was to be shaped under Miquella’s hand. Things would be so much more difficult to arrange under the laws of the Moon, after all.
And, unlike the proposal of illusion, Miquella would bring true freedom from fate. They needed no Outer God as protector and benefactor when they had each other.
“I see.” Malenia spoke. “I cannot deny that I understand your feelings. I feel almost tempted to laud your efforts, in point of fact. Is your hope for such an age why you have remained in these lands? Is this, in fact, why you chose to meet with us, despite your enmity with my betrothed?”
She wondered if Ranni would notice that she had said nothing about whether she agreed with the proposition.
“Nay.” Ranni said, with a little shake of the head, and the weariness in her tone startled her in how much it resembled Alagos. She was brought to consider if her fiancé had picked up the gesture from her to begin with. “I set aside hopes for mine age long ago, as the only Tarnished given grace with the resources and requisite might to bring it about is this Death-bothering wretch who deceived us both. Did he not tell you? He slew all his competitors, with lies and stealth when might alone would not serve. Many are the cliffs of Altus and Liurnia, and for a decade, the winds howled most fiercely about them.”
“How dare you-“
“You have no need to tell me, and I tire of your wallowing in memory. As I said, I care nothing for what he might have been in the past.” Malenia said, forcing her to continue on.
“And yet, thou must see it- there is not another who could do it. Not another with the Runes necessary to mend the Elden Ring, or the strength to the storm the Erdtree, or the experience to accomplish what I have in mind. I cannot do it myself, for fear of drawing the Greater Will’s attention to the doings of the Moon. Nay, I remain for far simpler concerns. If I were gone, canst thou not see that he and his master would conspire to take my mother from me?”
“Now this is preposterous.” Alagos hissed, turning foggy eyes to Rennala. “Even you cannot possibly believe that, ma’am, whatever nonsense she might have fed you.”
For a moment, the Queen looked uncertain. Then she assumed a mantle of stone, and walked to stand beside her sister.
“Thou wishest me to trust thy goodwill, when thou wouldst not even trust thy beloved with thy master’s name?”
Alagos’ eyes widened, then narrowed, and the Goddess got the impression that he saw something she did not. And then some veil of darkness descended on the room, and the familiar warmth of Alagos’ spirit was gone.
She would almost say it felt inverted- where before it had exuded comforting heat, now it drew all warmth to itself, leaving the rest of the room cold. That faint, steady undercurrent of hope she loved fell, drowned within a tide.
His voice did not sound the same when he used it. There was nothing soft about it- it was hard, cold, jagged like volcanic rock, and smouldered with bubbling, hateful fire. Distantly, she noticed that he had changed dialects in violent mockery.
“A score of my years I have blamed myself for the ruin of our friendship, as I had forgotten the sting of thy lies. Thine every word a dagger; thine every order an exercise in patience. Thou darest blame me for the wrath thou gifted me? Thou claimest the poison thou fed me came from mine own self? Thou accuse me of not knowing better when thou taught me all I know, to make me a tool for thine use?”
He did not sound like her Alagos anymore.
“Thou doubt my love for my daughter, when it would have given thee the world hadst thou wished it? Thou now question my loyalty to my love, and seek to use my gratitude to my master who truly taught me to be better when thou ne'er once tried? Thou sour, sore, sordid, shameless, slandering sow!”
Even Ranni looked taken aback. If she were to guess, Malenia would say that she was not so much affected by the insults herself, as much as the fact that Alagos was capable of them. She’d always known his anger to have been a cold, tranquil thing.
“Dearest.” she bade. “Calm yourself.”
“And thou!” he fumed at Rennala, ignoring her- he had never ignored her- “Thou who washed thy hands of thy student. I wonder if it was worth anything, in the end. I wonder if I should have left thee in thy gloom, as thy daughter cared not whether thou wast sane or slumbering. Would I have wrought such ruin if I had never known ye? Would I have come unto wisdom sooner, if Gurranq had been my first teacher? I had thought thy daughter drew her callousness from Radagon, but I see now that she took that lesson from thee. Alas that I could not learn it myself!”
He did not sound like her Alagos at all.
She had understood that Ranni was subtly trying to insinuate that she had misinterpreted his mind. She knew she hadn’t.
She did.
“Do you?” asked Miquella. "Even I could not pierce this secret. It is certain that he loves you unconditionally, but does he truly love you most?"
