The light of the fire glistened off his armor, its warmth comforting him. He slowly stood up, taking in his surroundings. He was on the edge of a cliff, a ruined structure surrounded him. He faced a small altar, tattered tapestries cloaked over it. He could hear waves crashing against the bottom of the cliff, their massive bodies colliding again and again. He took a deep breath, the smell of salt filling his nostrils. He turned away from the warmth of the of the fire and walked to what was once a large doorway. He stopped just outside, the cool ocean breeze took his cloak into the air, flapping against the wall. He tightened the cloak and headed towards the shambles of an old town.

The buildings were broken and burned, signs of a great battle once fought. The town was empty, quiet. The residents had left long ago. He walked into the center of the town, towards a large statue of a robed woman. The statue’s head faced down, looking at him. Its face was hidden by the stone hood, save for a gentle smile. A plaque at the base of the statue read, “Our Protector”. He looked at the statue, it seemed sad. As if it felt regret for failing this town.

He left the statue and entered one of the buildings. On the left was a crooked wooden table. The chairs had been scattered and thrown to the floor. A small dresser was in the corner, but He had no interest in looting through it. On the right side was a fireplace, ash and dead logs lay on its floor.

He left the house and entered its neighbor. This house was different. It was relatively empty, except for a chair and an open chest. He looked inside the chest, empty. He left the house and returned to the center of town. It suddenly felt very familiar to him, but he had no memory of this place. He looked back to the structure with the fire. He must have come through here before, how else did he get there? He tried to recall just how he had arrived at the fire, He remembered the fire, its great warmth like a blanket, its light leading him through darkness. The fire was like a beacon, a light welcoming all. But he could not remember how he had arrived at it. It was as if he had just suddenly appeared there.

He dismissed that idea immediately, it was nonsense. His head was foggy was all, he would remember sooner or later. He went back to searching the town. He didn't find much, but he was able to get a lantern with spare candles and a lighting stick. He attached the lantern to his belt, and put the candles into a pouch on his hip. He considered heading back to the fire, but he was curious about this area. He figured that if he explored it more, it would help his memory.

He followed the edge of the cliff, staring at the violent ocean. The water was white with foam, its surface bubbling. Each crash against the rocks sent it flying, creating a light mist along the cliff wall. He turned his gaze forward, there was a large dark cave ahead. He approached it curiously, yet cautiously. There was something about this cave. He felt a sudden sense of fear. He took the lantern in his left hand and lit it. With his right, he drew the sword that hung at his side, its bright metal glowing in the light. He moved slowly into the mouth of the cave, his lantern dimly illuminating the rocks. As he continued inside, he came upon a narrow tunnel. He tried to look through, but it bent inside.

As he was about to head in, a noise from behind stopped him. He spun around to see the shadowy figure of a man. Its steps slid along the cave floor as it shuffled towards him. He was about to call to the figure, ask where this cave led out. But before he could speak, the figure entered the light. It wasn’t a man at all, or at least, not anymore. Its skin was gone, the muscles exposed, its face was barely anything more than a skull. Thin strands of hair fell from the scalp, wispy and floating in the wind. The eyes of this creature were empty, no more than holes in this hollow shell of a man.

It growled and slowly raised its sword, a rusted piece of metal with chips along the edge. It brought it down, but He quickly blocked the strike with his own sword. He kicked the creature back, and swung his blade across its chest. It shook, leaning back from the blow, but seemed unaffected by the strike. He readied his sword, and as it approached again, he thrust his weapon into its chest. It stopped, and fell. He waited, looking at it, worried it might come back. Suddenly, a bright white light left its body and rushed into his. He immediately felt like a part of him had been filled, like he was now incomplete.

He stared in wonder at the fallen creature, now a lifeless husk. He turned back to the tunnel, and once again felt a feeling of familiarity. Something was pulling him in, the sense of incompletion driving him forward. Something was in this cave, something he needed. He entered the tunnel, his sword pointing forward, should another creature appear. The tunnel had many turns, and more than once he had to twist and shove through tight areas. But he eventually came out the other side, and what he saw left him speechless. The cave opened into a massive cavern. The ceiling was hundreds of feet high, as if a mountain had been emptied out just to fit the structure inside: A huge fortress, made of smooth, featureless stone. Its gate had been raised, a large watchtower above looked out over the cavern. He walked towards the fortress, stopping before a long thin bridge, over a deep gap that fell into darkness.

He peered over the edge, then picked up a rock and dropped it down into the abyss. One… two… three… four? There was still no sound. He backed away from the edge and looked again to the fortress. The sense of being complete was strong here. Something waited inside that fortress, he knew that if he found it, he would get his answers. He moved forward onto the bridge, slowly sliding one foot forward at a time. As he neared the middle, he heard the snap of a crossbow, and a bolt drove into the wood before him.

He snapped his head up, and saw the sniper in the watchtower. Like the creature in the cave, it too looked beyond death, a hollow shell. He moved just as another bolt cam flying, this one just missing his shoulder. He ran as fast as he could, though he felt his energy draining. He was just a few feet from the fortress, when he bent over in exhaustion. He tried to move, but the weight of his armor held him. He heard another snap of the crossbow, and felt the bolt dig into his shoulder.

He moved forward, almost falling over, as he continued towards the open mouth of the structure. He made it inside just as another bolt smacked off the stone behind him. He sat down and examined the wound. It didn’t look too bad, definitely not bad enough to warrant a sip of estus. He stood up and looked about the structure.

Torches along the walls provided ample lighting, enough that his lantern was no longer needed. He found a doorway that led up to the watchtower, and removed the threat of the sniper. He took a sip from his flask to heal the wounds he had suffered, and looked out at the fortress. Beyond that courtyard was the main building, its many windows giving him a rough layout of the interior. He counted two floors, and at least six rooms. He could see more of the hollow creatures moving about inside. The watchtower led onto the walls, which he used to climb into the second floor. Two of the hollow creatures greeted him. He used the crossbow the sniper had given him, quickly removed the head of the farther one, then dropped it and drew his sword. The hollowed creature seemed undaunted by his actions, and slashed at him with its weapon. The attack was sloppy, and he was quickly able to outmaneuver the creature, and drive his sword into its back.

He continued this tactic three more times as he explored the floor, quickly dispatching the hollow creatures inside. As he moved from room to room, he noticed that like the village, there were empty chests inside, all having been opened previously. He thought it odd, but figured someone else must have been through here before. But then why didn’t he kill the creatures? The thought quickly left his mind as he moved downstairs, and was ambushed by more of the hollows. Unlike the ones he had fought before, these weren’t wearing any armor or wielding effective weapons. They were clothed in rags and swung broken daggers and thin clubs. He moved to slash at one, when he felt the sting of a blade at his side. He rolled away, and saw there were far more than he realized. They swung wildly, and seemed to have no cooperation. He used this to his advantage, and cut a long sweep while many had their guard down, taking out almost half the group. He readied for another strike, before one of them ran into him, slashing at his armor. He pushed it back and cut it down, then finished off the rest. He drank from his flask again, and felt his wounds close. The flask felt about half full, he would need to be careful.

He explored the first floor, finding nothing of interest, and no new enemies to fight. He was about to leave when he noticed a rug that had been slightly folded over. He picked it up, and revealed a trapdoor. He opened it and peered inside. The stench of death and decay assaulted him. He dropped down into a tunnel, a light flickered in the distance. He moved towards it, and found himself in a dungeon. Cages filled the room, spiked torture devices hung from the ceiling, blood caked the floor and walls. He felt sick, and had to sit down and steady himself.

After a while, he stood up and moved forward, cautious of any evil that might lurk here. As he continued onward, the feeling of completion overwhelmed him. He felt it dragging him, guiding him through this nightmare. He moved through the labyrinth of cages, down ladders and staircases, avoiding traps along the way, until there was nowhere else to go. A massive portal, filled with fog, stood before him. He wasn’t able to look beyond it, or hear anything inside. The room he was currently in held no clue about what he would find should he enter, nor any warning not to. The only thing he knew was that every answer he needed lied beyond the fog. Going through would complete him.

He steeled himself for whatever he would find, drew his sword, and walked into the fog. After the shroud passed, he found himself in a circular room, ropes and chains littered the floor, beds of nails and similar torture devices lined the walls, and much like the area before, evidence of gruesome tortures surrounded him. At the far end, he saw a man, dressed in armor similar to his, if not exactly the same. He felt very familiar with the man, but could not understand why. He moved towards the man, but before he got far, a large creature dropped down in front of him.

The creature was easily eight feet tall, maybe nine. Its hunched posture made it difficult to tell. The creature’s black robe, tattered and torn, hung from its lanky frame. It looked like a skeleton wearing skin that was much too small.The creature’s face was hidden by its hood, save for a crooked, lipless smile. In its hand, it wielded a long whip, covered in barbs. It lifted the whip above its head, and quickly brought it down.

He rolled away, just before the whip hit him, then leapt forward and jabbed at the creature’s leg. He made contact, and ripped his blade across. The creature screamed and kicked him away. He flew into a wall, and again rolled forward just before the whip hit. He ran behind the creature, and tried to strike at its leg, but the creature spun around and whipped him before he could. The barbs ripped across his armor, slicing into his flesh. He fell and suffered another kick.

He felt his vitality waning, but knew he could take at least one more hit. He ran towards the creature, rolling forward as it attacked. He spun around as he got back up, and slashed it its arm. He landed four hits before the creature recovered, then rolled away and downed the estus. It had one more use left. He circled the creature again, this time rolling before the whip hit him, and sliced at its legs. The creature tried to kick him, but lost its balance and fell. He slashed at its sides, tearing the cloak it wore to pieces. The creature smacked him away, and stood back up. As he tried to get up, the whip hit him and tossed him aside. He found himself laying next to the all too familiar man. He looked at the man, and the man looked at him. He couldn’t die. Not now, not when the answers were so close. He struggled to stand up, drank what little of his estus that was left, and charged forward.

The creature cracked its whip in front of him, snapping right next to his head, but he did not stop. The creature wound the whip back, and lashed it forward, striking him in the chest, but he did not stop. He ran toward the creature, ignoring every attack it made, until his sword dug into its belly. The creature, stunned, raised its arms up and let out a deafening screech, before falling and fading to dust. A yellow flame remained on the floor where the creature once stood, a vessel containing a portion of its mighty power. He picked it up, and broke it in his hand, absorbing the power. He then turned, and approached the man.

He watched as the man looked up towards him, then with a sigh of relief, disappeared, leaving behind a mass of swirling green dust. He moved forward into the dust, and was assaulted by a barrage of memories. He remembered the fire in the town, and others before it. He remembered moving through the town, taking the items inside the chests. He had gone through the fortress many times, in many different ways, and he had fought the same enemies time and time again. He had found the trapdoor, other times he found a side passage from outside the cave, and he had explored the dungeon, finding areas that he had overlooked previous times. He had fought this beast, and he had died. The memories always ended here, in this room, with his death. And every memory but the first began at the fire, with no knowledge of what had transpired previously. He had made his way back here, countless times before, seeking these memories. But this time, this time he finally killed the beast. This time, he finished the cycle, and was now complete.