"Bearer of the curse, my journey is now complete. Go on and take the throne. Put Nashandra to rest. Bring an end to the curse of the undead."

The Bearer of the curse looks at Shanalotte. "Is this the right thing to do? Link the fire, the First Flame?"

"It is."

"What will happen to all of us? To this land?"

"I do not know."

The Bearer of the curse shakes his head. "Maybe this is all wrong. How can this be a good thing if i have to kill almost everyone i see? How can i call myself a hero when i have the blood of innocent creatures on my blade?"

Shanalotte lays her hand on his shoulder. "It is your fate to take the throne. You can not change it."

Both of them walk towards the Throne of Want in silence and stop infront of the fog wall.

"Bearer of the curse, may you find what you seek, a reason for all of this."

"Sometimes i wonder who i am. Why i am so special. I wonder if i will remember anything when this is over. I don't even know my own name or if i even have one." He draws his sword and readys his shield. Walking through the fog wall he hears one last thing.



"Your name? Your name is....Artorias."