Fandom Dark Souls III: A World With and Without Flame || DETAILED

[StoneWolf18]

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"Noble Lords of Cinder.
The fire fades...
...and the lords go without thrones.
Surrender your fires...
...to the true heir.
Let them grant death...
To the old gods of Lordran, deliverers of the First Flame."​

~ The Fire Keeper​

The duty of an Unkindled is to link the First Flame as it had been done for thousands of years to sustain the Age of Fire for it is only a living being's nature to fear a world without flame. But... that is not the only path one has a the option of taking. The Undead with its own head upon their shoulders can do what they please. Whether that be sacrificing themselves or forcing The Age of Dark upon the world. We have all seen a glimpse of it I'm sure, through the silent, eerie depths of the untended graves where an unlit shrine sits abandoned of all life.

Some choose to extend the fire's reign.

Others are all too happy to watch it cease.

And then... there are those who want its power for themselves.

But... what would occur if each of these events occurred at the same time? The usurping, linking, and leaving of the flame? How would these coexisting timelines react?

That... is what four unfortunate souls are about to discover for themselves as well as the consequences of their chosen action.

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Please refrain from posting until we have officially begun.

 

[StoneWolf18]

Nerys snarled from beneath her helm, raising her shield to block another incoming strike from Soul of Cinder, the empty husk of previous lords. The thing wasn't even befit to call a person now much less a living being. Becoming it was the last thing on her mind, as survival was first. As the blade crashed down around a torrent of flame, she was pushed back while sinking a bit in the ash, pain exploding from her shoulder. Gritting her teeth, she knew this fight had to end soon, for being swept away as ash the first time was already unpleasant enough. The pain from being speared like a well cooked piece of meat then a fierce burning sensation followed by literally being blown apart in the wind and waking by a partially concerned Fire Keeper who asks how it went.

It was safe to say that the woman had gone off on her, although in a mute fashion with unhealthy amounts of glaring because being reconstructed takes quite a bit out of you. (Literally and figuratively speaking as one time she actually DID lose her vocal cords.)

Seeing an opening, she decided to take it. Lunging forward and slipping her longsword in between the creature’s ribs where the armor was oddly the weakest. It went in deep, Nerys rolling back as fast as possible as it cried out in pain and made a grab for her. Barely missing. So it followed with a lunge of its own, the unkindled taking a leap of faith and pushing outward with her shield. It was deflected, the thin stunned as she then drove her sword into his chest, bringing him to his knees as she pushed it deeper before ripping it out, the thing falling forward with a clank only empty armor could make. Breathing heavily, she raised her shield, moving back slowly while adjusting the grip on her hilt.

It wasn't moving.

She then nudged it with an armor-clad food, it shuttering momentarily before turning to ash itself, creating a small mount where it had lay. Relief flooded through her as she realized she had finally slain what she had been working towards for a good two hundred years. Casting the slowly dying bonfire a glance, she turned and walked away without another glance.

It didn't take long for her to arrive back at firelink, the woman trudging up to the bonfire as the Fire Keeper stood and made her way over. No words were exchanged as she rid herself of her shield, sword, and helm. Collapsing due to pure exhaustion, she wasn't willing to move as the Fire Keeper knelt down beside her. Taking her gloved hand and reaching it towards the coiled sword, laying it by the dying flame so she could heal before it was fully extinguished. And thankfully she did, Nerys having been repaired although still excruciatingly sore.

Once she finally fully woke from her stupor, she painfully shifted into a kneeling position. Her hand still remaining within the bonfire, eyes glancing from the nearly burnt out fire to the keeper that still lingered beside her. “This was thine wish…” She murmured, knowing as the fire fades, she would no longer be necessary. Not having the heart to watch, the unkindled laid down and closed her eyes, trying to preserve the image of light just a bit longer.

But when she would wake… she would see a bit more than a darkened shrine and decreased Fire Keeper.

The ground beneath her was much more firm, the temperature cooler than it had been within the shrine. A slight confusion set in as Nerys slowly opened her eyes and instantly sat up. One couldn't see the sky indoors. Looking around she saw that nothing had apparently changed except that she was before the entrance of firelink surrounded by three other people. All who still appeared as if they had yet to wake. Not wanting to take any chances, she slipped on her helm and grabbed her armaments that had been on the ground beside her and took a few steps back from the group away from the open door where the thrones were visible. Her blade and shield lowered but still at the ready just in case.

Osthavula SirDerpingtonIV InsaneAsylum

 

[SirDerpingtonIV]

"Farewell Karla," he sighed, spreading his armored hands and giving a wave of passing. He turned away from her, making his way towards the stairs, when her voice caught him there. "This is the eigth farewell and yet you are still here," the witch pointed out, causing Jakov to sigh. "You don't have to make every farewell so dramatic when you know you'll just be back in a few minutes," she added on, likely smirking under that wide-brimmed hat of hers.

"I like to make each farewell as meaningful as I can, in case that one may be my final, final farewell. Ye of little faith Karla, eventually I'll succeed. I always have, since I've saved you after all, have I not?" He asked, looking back at where she sat, a smile crossing his face. It was true. Always, he persisted, no matter how bleak things seemed. Even in Archdragon Peak, and the Irithyl Dungeon in which he had met her, he did not give up. Over a hundred deaths to each of those blasted hell pits, and nearly a hundred more to the Nameless King himself, and he did not give in. Although he most certainly did falter along the way, he never once gave in. And that is all that made an Unkindled One, or a Chosen Undead, or whatever have you. Resilience and determination. The will to rise from ash and to conquer all challenges before you. And he was on the verge of it.

The witch looked up, tilting her hat back to reveal her pale face. She eyed him for a moment, before a slight smile played across her lips, a little glimmer of teeth showing between them. "Farewell, Jakov."

As little as it was, it was enough for him. All he could ever ask of her, or anyone. A smile. So precious in this fleeting world. And he had never seen one as warm as hers. A light from the self-proclaimed child of the Abyss. He inclined his head for a moment, before turning to ascend the stairs, making his way into the round room that was the heart of Firelink Shrine, where the fire flickered on, and the Shrinemaiden sat. He sat down before the fire, one... probably last time.

He stepped through the fog wall, his armor glimmering with the faint aura of miracles he had applied before battle. He raised his Greatsword, lightning dancing across the gleaming metal as he pointed the weapon towards his rising foe. "Again, Soul of Cinder. Yet another fight between us." He lowered the blade slightly, as the Soul of Cinder charged forward. Jakov was ready, sidestepping the downward strike of the Lords' flaming sword, responding with a quick stab of his own blade, the heavy tip sliding through the worn armor of the Soul with ease, digging into whatever charred flesh lie beneath. Jakov stepped back, blocking another swing with the blade of his massive greatsword. From under his helm, he grinned, stepping back as the Soul took promptly swung its sword, the weapon seeming to take form as a staff. "Shit," he mumnled, quickly pulling out his Talisman and casting Great Magic Barrier upon himself. The Soul had learned which of its many forms he hated most, and seemed to use it exclusivley when fighting him. But this time, he felt he was ready. The Soul pulled back, charging a mighty blast of sorcery. However, he would not give it time. He ran forward, straight into its path, before quickly throwing himself to the side as the beam shot past, barely missing him. He raised his blade, letting a few of the more minor sorceries hit his barrier as he reached melee, swinging his blade into the Soul's shins. The blow cut deep into the old plate mail, driving the Soul to its knees as Jakov turned his blade around in his hands with a growl, before swinging the weapon's guard into the back of the Soul's head, the blunt end caving in the metal helm. The blow was enough to drop the Soul of Cinder to the ground, although not for long.

As the Soul prepared for its next phase, so did he. With a low sigh, he raised his talisman, and emitted a health blast of Force. The miracle soared across the ashy field of blades, striking the Soul center mass, blasting the armored figure into the ground. Jakov then proceeded to hurl every last lightning spear he could into the Soul of Cinder, always throwing an Emit Force as his last miracle, before chugging down one of his Ashen Estus Flasks, beginning the round of miracles again before the Soul could stand up again. After so many attempts, his strategy was perfected. The Soul of Cinder, after his final miracle, let out a grunt, wobbled to its feet, and then collapsed into a pile of ash, the Lord's blade forming the final Bonfire. The First Flame itself, and it looked to be just a simple Bonfire. It was amusing almost, that something sought by thousands for ages uncounted, would be so simple.

Jakov sat down before it, and reached a hand to the flame. "Farewell, Karla," he murmured, as he became Flame.

Odd. He had thought linking the flame would be a little warmer than this, as his soul fueled a new Age of Fire. It certainly didn't feel hot. In fact, he could feel a breeze through the tiny gaps in his plate. He opened his eyes, pulling himself to a seated position with a grunt as he looked around, taking in the surroundings of the entrance to Firelink. This time however, he wasn't alone. A woman in robes, a staff at her side, clearly a sorcerer lay nearby, and another woman too, facedown in the ash. And lastly... he shot to his feet, unsheathing his Astora Greatsword as he entered a battle ready stance, facing down the armored woman across from him in the armor of the ancient Dragonslayer. "Alright, I don't know who you are, or why I am at Firelink again, but how about we put our weapons down?" He asked, lowering the tip of his blade just a little. If she understood him, and wasn't some mad Hollow, she would comply, or at least verbally respond.

"I am quite confused at the moment, and would like to talk to someone about what has just transpired." He admitted with a sigh, lowering his blade further, although not sheathing it quite yet. "I kindle the First Flame, and then awaken here, beside Undead I have never yet met. Is this your tale as well?"

 

[InsaneAsylum]

There she knelt, the beautiful fire keeper who had prevented her journey from failure. Alyssa grasped her knife tightly in her left hand, and slowly moved behind the woman. Alyssa's right hand lunged forward, and clenched onto her blonde hair, pulling the woman up and backwards. The knife pierced her back with little resistance. Before withdrawing the knife from the firekeeper's back, Alyssa jerked the blade counterclockwise. After Alyssa let go, the poor woman fell to her side, limp and cold. With a sly grin, the devilish sorceress took the flame. After a quick glance at Yuria and the Lord of Cinder's corpses, Alyssa took the first flame for herself. A white light overtook her vision, and Alyssa found herself unable to move.

"What in Lothric's name..."

Everything was dark. Alyssa heard voices around her. The cold stone pressed hard against her face. With a grunt, Alyssa slowly pushed herself to her knees in a kneeling position. Her long dark brown hair hung in front of her face. She gazed at two armored figures speaking, her mind still too dazed to comprehend their speech. Her gaze fell to her large pointed hat, in which she groggily reached out and grabbed onto. She felt much better as she placed it on her head, the familiar feeling comforting her.

Something bothered Alyssa. Wasn't she supposed to have the power of the First Flame? At the moment, Alyssa simply felt tired and sore. Her staff lay next to her, while her knife and small shield still clung to her. She turned and glanced at another individual, still lying on the ground. She then looked back at the two armored individuals who were already on their feet. Was it all a trick? Had she been fooled from the start? Whatever the case, Alyssa would need new allies, as she had betrayed the Church of Londor. Alyssa grabbed her staff, and slowly rose to her feet using the staff for support. Her knees shook violently. If she had her pyromancy flame, she could warm herself up with a simple flame spell. Unfortunately, Alyssa never brought along anything unnecessary.

"Who're you, and what the hell am I doing here?" Alyssa asked, her voice coarse.

 

[Osthavula]

She opened her eyes.

The scenery greeted her as it had thousand times before. Dagrun sighed, looking at the bonfire beside her. So lively, and in fact, the only thing that could be said as filled with life here. The thrones had no king, and many left, and many did not return. The empty firelink shrine evoked only pain, as she got up and walked towards the fire keeper. She remained, awaiting Dagrun to call her, and it was almost like any normal time. But underneath the mask, her eyes were present. And when their hands held, that little movement of her lips did not escape her eyes. Perhaps she was nervous too, and who could blame her. After that request of betrayal that Dagrun barely knew the weight?

"...Ashen one, if thine heart should bend... kill me, and strip these eyes from my person. I will return as the Fire Keeper I once was. As it is has always been."

They stood silently for a few second, before these words came out of the fire keeper's voice. She said this over and over, almost a plead. Dagrun swallowed, her soul trembled, if she still had one of her own by now.

"I'm sorry..." Her throat sore when spoken.

"No, Ashen one. If this is indeed thy wish...Mayst thou thy peace discov'r."

And as if Dagrun knew beforehand, she went around to talk to the people remaining. Cornix, handmaiden, Andre, Patches, Irina and lastly, Yuria. She hasn't been visiting her often, but Yuria didn't seem to be affected by this neglectment.

" Ahh, our Lord and Liege. Thine heart is fix'd upon the linking of the fire. But brave usurper, I prithee, wrest the flame from its mantle. So that we Hollows, in most honest shape of man, may have it for our own."

Those words she continued to say, although Dagrun stared at her with such sadness. How much of her trust for Yuria remained? Once it was strong, then Yuria dare suggest to harm Orbeck, and led her to undergo the ceremony, to watched as Anri faded under her sword? The man that Dagrun couldn't say love, but undoubtedly cared for and grieved for. Most of Dagrun screamed to blame Yuria, but the deepest part of her knew it not right, as it was herself that was lacking willpower and strength, and too much heart when she thought of the hollows Yuria spoke of. And Yoel.

"You think Yoel will be happy?"

"... He would indeed, Tis his wish, as was Londor's."

One final look at each other, Dagrun silently passed her. Finally, no other words could be said. At least, none to the living.

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The flame on the Lords of Cinder's blade scorched her skin as she rolled away, while trying to focus on his movement. Her usual tactic was learning the enemy's movement, and like dancing, you move accordingly. The fabric on her dancer armour now fluttered along with the most difficult dance ever, as the Lords of Cinder's dancemove was difficult to learn, often changing, and very very aggressive. Another jump, she dodged the spear he threw at her, charging towards him, and waved her blade into the gap of his armour. While he grunted and quickly attacked back at her, she rolled away a split second before his. For this one time, she was properly dancing with him. His weapon missed her, and with good breathing and pacing, Dagrun gradually slashed away his health, if it could be called 'health'. If he at some point was human, and not just a flame driven charcoal. Whatever he was, with another use of Carthus Rouge, the twin katana advanced at all the sneaky moments, sending the Lord of Cinder one knee on the floor, and fell.

Lords of Cinder vanished, like all the others.

There was no joy, no satisfaction. The blonde woman stumbled to the coiled sword and sat down before it. More than fighting the combination of the lords, this was more difficult. It had to be done. It had to be done.

Breath in, breath out. It was done. Soft footsteps came behind her, and Dagrun saw the familiar dress. She looked up, expecting the firekeeper to once again ask her to kill her, as usual. But the fire keeper only watched her, and said nothing.

It had to be done.

The two walked closer to the fire, and one kneeled down. Gently, the silver-haired woman held her hand like a bowl, and presented to the other, the fire that they talked so much about. Then it was passed, from one hand to another. First, it quietly burn. Then, it spreaded to the arms, then suddenly, it seaped underneath her skin, burning her inside. Dagrun couldn't control but kneeled down and screamed. The pain, the pain.

"Ah! ahh....."

In agony Dagrun couldn't see anything, and all her senses focused on the one place her body was burning and paining. She extended her hand, but to nowhere. She thought of Irina, but the thought could only reach there.

" Ah, someone came to welcome you."

Fire keeper? The voice seemed distanced and faded. Dagrun almost fainted, but with that voice she punched the ground and her head, trying to stay conscious. She couldn't fall here.

She opened her eyes.

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Many figures spreaded across the field. It was first Yuria, or two who dressed similarly, entered her sight. They bowed, slowly, deeply, and so did the many white figures of hollow acrossed the field.

She would have listened, perhaps go to them , but the next thing made her instantly choked up.

Of the many gray figure, and beside the two woman in Yuria's attire, knelt a unique figure. The person she thought she could no longer cast eyes upon. It was un-lordly, but she couldn't have done other wise, she ran towards the person, pull him up, and now cried the tears she thought would no longer fall from a hollow's eyes.

"Anri!" She cried, embracing him from his neck. "...I'm... I'm sorry for what I've done..."

The touch of cold armour on her back comforted her, and no other sounds. The others must be watching silently.

"It is alright, Dagrun. It was done, and now... I think I can understand."

"But Horace.."

"It was not your fault. Horace... He must have been tired. He rested."

"Anri..."

Then in the secured embrace of metal, and the gentle voice of the man she trusted, she let her guard slipped. In his arms, she drifted into the darkness of slumber. At last, even the gentle voice faded.

She was alone.

Then She opened her eyes.

Was it all a dream?

"An......" Her voice trailed off, and she noticed the others with her. They looked just as surprised as she was, sizing each other in their own ways.

 

[StoneWolf18]

As the others began to wake and stand, Nerys couldn't help but defensively raise her blade slightly, not in an aggressive but a cautious manner. If they were speaking, they weren't hollow, at least not completely. Wanting to try reason first, she slowly lowered her sword and shield, beginning to speak slowly. "My name is Nerys and... I would never think of linking the accursed flame. I had just watched it die before me..." Turning to face the sorceress, she continued. "I know as much as the both of you... why we're hear and what purpose we serve are unknown to me..." trailing off, she let her gaze flick from face to face from within her helm. Waiting and watching. Curious to see if their stories aligned with the first flame.

 

[InsaneAsylum]

With a deep breath, Alyssa rose to her feet. Her right hand held her staff tightly, using it to keep her balance. Her free hand grabbed her estus flask from behind her back. It felt light, nearly empty. Alyssa tilted her head back and drank the flask's contents in one swift swallow. She grinned, and rolled her shoulders. "Well if none of us know the reason for us being here, I suggest we take a look around. Maybe someone here knows," Alyssa suggested.

One thinks they linked the flame, while the other thinks they let it die? They must be insane. I should have the first flame for myself. Either way, they may not take too kindly to me bragging about taking it for myself. Changing the subject to something more important should buy me some time.

 

[SirDerpingtonIV]

He narrowed his eyes as the woman entered a defensive stance, mirroring his. Cautious. And then she began to speak, bringing forth a sigh of relief from Jakov. If she was Hollow, she wasn't too Hollow. And that at least was a welcoming thing in this awful, ashy world. The woman's name was Nerys, and he repeated it a few times in his head as to remember it. But what she said next brought a scowl to his face. "You... abandoned the flame?" He mumbled, slightly tightening the grip on his blade for a moment, voice filled with disbelief. However, after a few moments he sighed, and sheathed his blade on his back. "For now, I shall not question your choice on the First Flame. We have more important matters to attend to first it would seem, as something or someone has brought us together." He sighed, shaking his head and looking down at the ground for thought.

The admittedly beautiful sorceror woman and the one on the ground in Dancer's armor awakened then. Only the first spoke, asking questions and then, after hearing out Nerys, suggested looking around. Not too bad of a thought. "I'd say the obvious place to go first would be Firelink Shrine. And if anyone there would know about this, it'd be the Firekeeper," he suggested with a shrug of his shoulders as he gave the three women a glance, to ensure they were not shifting into a fighting stance. Never can trust a sorceress, after all. Well... except for Karla, although he still wasn't exactly sure if she counted as one. He turned away from them, looking up towards the shrine as he began to take his first steps forward, hand on the hilt of his blade, in case some foe were to emerge.

 

[Osthavula]

While they were talking, Dagrun looked at her hands at a loss. It was almost like taking the flame and seeing Anri came to live was just a dream. But it both felt real, the embrace and... this.

Dagrun turn her gaze at the people around her. At first, it was almost like the two of them would break into fight, but now everyone was too confused to do so. They claimed they did different things to the flame, and then... A complicated feeling rose in her. She looked at the man who linked the fire, sank deep in thoughts, and then at the sorceress that didn't say what she did. Dagrun knew that she herself took the flame following Yuria's instruction, but what was the other possibility? Other then continuing the flame and let it wane? Before she could think further, the word 'fire keeper' stopped her, and she jumped up from her spot. Even though she was the last to move, she was the first to enter the firelink shrine, and once she was in she looked around hoping she would see the fire keeper there.

She was so concerned after she got the fire, that she didn't see the fire keeper when the hollows welcomed her. What have become of her? Afterall, no one knew in history what happen if the firekeeper betray, and she'd stab herself if anything horrible happened to her. As if the request of her betray was not horrible enough.

Still, although it was firelink shrine, it obviously wasn't the same one.

 

[StoneWolf18]

Without another word, Nerys sheathed her longsword before moving towards firelink's entrance herself. The familiar sight comforting as they descended the staircase, a familiar robed figure coming into view. However... that's where it would stop for as she turned to greet them with a warm smile, it wasn't the one they all had come to know. More specifically, it wasn't a her but a he. "Ah..." he began softly, following their movements despite the signature blindfold he wore. "Thou hast been awaiting thy appareance, unkindled." He gave a small bow of his head, short blond hair glinting in the light of the bonfire as he continued. "Please, rest. As I am sure thou is quite fatigued from battle."

Although she was confused by more than one thing, the woman couldn't help it and quickly knelt before the bonfire, eagerly allowing it to not only refresh her body and clear her thoughts, but refill her oddly empty flasks as well. "I had assumed all fire keepers were female..." she commented, not looking up as he chucked softly. "Would thou also assume all knights are male?" Even with the indirect answer, it was still rather backwards.

 

[InsaneAsylum]

Alyssa smiled as smile she followed Nerys. A male fire keeper, it had to be a joke. Joke or not, surely that meant he wouldn't know that she had killed the fire keeper Alyssa once knew. Alyssa approached him, and bowed gently, holding onto her oversized hat. It was odd that it didn't drop in front of her face all the time. Without a word to the fire keeper, Alyssa headed towards where the old smith would be located. This had to be another Firelink shrine, So the the strong old man would either be different or not be there at all. It wouldn't be the first time Alyssa had entered another firelink shrine however. It was as if she had been reliving the start of her journey in a darker bad more dangerous world when she found it. If this shrine was anything like that desolate place, than who knew what danger she could be in right now. Alyssa grabbed her staff tightly, searching for the hairy old man.

 

[SirDerpingtonIV]

Jakov followed after the two of them, lowering his hands to his sides as he made it to the entrance of the building without spotting the usual hollows, or the Black Knights that had protected the other Firelink. He stepped inside, spotting the familiar empty thrones. Well, it seemed that this was the same Firelink Shrine he was used to. "Perfect," he sighed, thankful at least for the familiar sight... until he approached the Firekeeper. He raised an eyebrow from under his helm, and stared at the man. A male Firekeeper? Some sort of uneasiness began to gnaw away at him. There were no male Firekeeper. "Where in the hell are we?" He mumbled, confused as ever. This.. wasn't right. If the Firekeeper was male, what else had changed here?

He made his way away from the Firekeeper, who was speaking with Nerys, who knelt by the fire. Judging by what he heard, it seemed that Nerys was just as confused about the male Firekeeper. One more common thread to tie their pasts together. Perfect. He moved into the nearby hall, seeking the old Shrine Handmaiden, hoping that she was still a maiden, and not a man. If she was a he... that would have worrying implications.

 

[Osthavula]

Seeing that it was obvious not the same firekeeper, Dagrun knew that it was impossible for him to know what happened to the fire keeper she knew. Still, although dissapointed, she smiled and greeted the fire keeper. He in his robe although was not like the one in her memory, but every move and every expression was similar if not identical. At least, her fire maiden was like this before Dagrun and her got really close. "Mind I ask, was there anyone before us? "

"No, ashen one. I hath not seen anyone new for long." He replied, and Dagrun looked curiously at his eye mask. He didn't notice, of course. "I hath not seen a group of unkindled together, too. But the prophecy never mentioned a number, only that the flames must be deliver'd."

"I see. Thank you, dear keeper." Dagrun looked curiously around again. "But I would think that the blacksmith would be here, and so is the hand maiden.... Or someone who sell items?" She remembered that gender could be different, even age. She really didn't know what to expect.

The fire keeper smiled and nodded. It was almost like he too enjoyed their reaction of surprise.

 

[StoneWolf18]

Everything was backwards.

As Aylssa would head towards Andre's anvil, the familiar ringing sound of steel hitting steel could be heard. But the person holding the hammer wasn't... It was a well toned and tall woman with a graying mop of hair that was pulled back from her face with a leather band. Pausing admits her work as she noticed the person approach, the woman nodded. "Aye, unkindled. Its about time you all arrived... what can I do for you?"

The handmaiden was the same way, an aging man shroud within robes and sat in a similar chair, the man nodding as he was approached. "The Quartermaster at your service, heheheh..." He chuckled dryly. As if enjoying the confusion that was now winding through the air.

 

[InsaneAsylum]

Alyssa approached 'Andre' warily. Had some sinister gender swapping spell been cast on this shrine? Alyssa stood before the woman before clearing her throat. "Hello there, might I ask for your name?" Alyssa asked. She didn't smile, nor did she make an effort to 'show off' for the woman. The confusion inside Alyssa's head made her forget her usual procedure upon meeting new people. This woman felt far too familiar to Alyssa for her to consider her a stranger. It was as if she already knew the blacksmith. Alyssa peeked back over her shoulder, glancing at the other three Unkindled as they inspected the shrine. They appeared to be just as surprised and confused as she.