Tiny flames weaved and danced, their flicks of light reflecting in Ornstein's eyes.

He had been staring at the bonfire for what seemed an eternity, only getting up once to survey the area before they moved forward. There was a woman, no doubt one of the Witch's daughters, ready to strike as soon as he approached the stairs. She only gave slight pause before attacking him, and there was no stopping her without violence. It was only fair, both to the daughter and to Rowena. One had long suffered these ruins, the other suffered enough grief and destruction.

Ornstein let out a small sigh, then looked over at Rowena. She had been in the same position since they arrived: knees pulled towards her chest, staring at the flames, tears slowly drying on her cheeks. Her brown eyes looked almost orange in the light. Something tugged at long buried emotions when he looked at her. Sympathy, perhaps.

She met his gaze, but her expression remained the same. He almost hated how blank it was.

"You…" Rowena paused. "You did what had to be done."

Ornstein said nothing.

"I forget sometimes," she continued, "that duty entails so much pain." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Forgive me for prying, but...have you ever felt this way about anything you've had to do?"

He hesitated. Part of him said this was a way to claw under his skin, undermine and kill him at the last possible second. However, the way she looked at him, tears brimming just below the surface...only grief lurked there.

"There have been times," he replied, quieter than he liked. "A life this long does not come without its trials."

She smiled a little. "I suppose even the knights of the gods can grieve."

He looked away, clasping his hands together, letting the silence fill in again.

"Whenever you are ready," he said, "we should press on."

She shifted her legs to the ground. "Can I ever be ready for the hell that lies ahead? Moreover...is there a point to this? Why do I fight if everyone I care about goes to die?"

His eyebrows furrowed. The question was odd for her. He decided immediately he didn't care for this change.

" 'Tis a fair question," he responded after a moment. "However, your journey is far from over."

"Must you remind me?"

"Allow me to finish." He stopped at her glare. "...Please." Her expression softened, albeit in surprise. "What was it you said to me when I criticized your kindness towards the people in Firelink Shrine?"

"As I recall," she started, "you called my efforts useless."

He pressed his lips into a flat line. "Be that as it may, I am inquiring as to your response."

Rowena tapped her fingers on her legs. "I told you that just because they may all die, it did not mean I had to let them suffer along the way."

Ornstein nodded. "Do you stand to rescind that statement?"

"And why would I?" She closed her eyes. "Someone may still need my help. I cannot, in good conscience, deny them."

"Then there is a point." He gave her a small smile. "As long as you carry this purpose in your heart, you have something to keep you on your path. Even hapless wanderers need something of the sort."

She snorted, but nodded. "Even if I can't save everyone…" Rowena tugged at her sleeve. "You're right. I can at least try." She smiled back. "Now, where is this damn witch? I would like to have a few words with her about the state of her home."

Ornstein bit back a laugh. "There's the Undead I've grown to know." He got to his feet and clicked his helmet back into place. She stood up shortly after him. There was a renewed faith in her eyes. That was all he could ask for.

They weaved through the path of enemies. He allowed Rowena to press forward while he warded off the ones that tried to assault her. She had no energy to spare for Izalith's smaller trials. If their earlier encounter with the Gravelord was any indication, there were more pressing horrors to deal with just ahead.

After a short time, they came upon a towering entryway, shrouded in a wall of fog. Ornstein spotted Rowena staring up at it as he finished descending the stairs. She made no movement at his approach.

"I sincerely hope this is a throne room," she started, "and not an elaborate hiding spot for a monster."

"And if we happen upon a monster, what then?" Ornstein asked.

Rowena looked down at her feet. "What choice do I have? Either I face whatever is beyond here, or I shrivel up and die in a rotten corner." She let out a short, yet pained, laugh. "Only...to come back as a corpse." Silence fell between them before she let out a quiet sigh. "But press on, I must."

"We."

Rowena looked up at him. "Pardon?"

He shook his head. "You act as if you are carrying this out alone. I like to think I am accompanying you for a purpose."

She stared at him for a moment, then donned a gentle smile. "Yes, of course." She looked towards the fog again. "We…"

Rowena took a breath and stepped through, Ornstein following not long after. She let out a gasp at what was before them: a sloping hallway, the walls and ceilings crawling with tree branches and dust. In an odd way, to him, this was a pleasant change of pace. Rowena, however, was none too thrilled.

"No one with their senses about them would make themselves so difficult to access," she mumbled, brushing the top of the slope with her foot. Puffs of dirt followed. "I wonder who will tumble down first?"

"The shorter of us."

Ornstein glanced over at Rowena. Her brown eyes narrowed, and her pouty expression was rather humorous. He held back his amusement.

"You give yourself far too much credit."

Rowena sighed and turned her attention back to the slope. Ornstein noted the way her fingers curled against her palms, then uncurled and flexed. She did this several times before taking a few steps back from the edge.

"I will see you down there...won't I?"

He turned his head at her question. Her eyebrows arched upwards, her eyes still holding hidden tears, though she fought hard to battle them back into their banks.

"There is...one way to ensure that."

Ornstein held out an armored hand. She didn't move to take it at first, as if she expected him to retract his offer. Then, after a breath, she slowly approached and placed her hand in his. It almost trembled in his gentle grip. Rowena looked up at him again. He nodded, remembering that any expression was currently lost on her due to his helmet. She looked down, inhaled, and placed the front of her right foot on the slope. He followed suit.

"To the Witch," she whispered.

One final synchronized step sent them sliding down the slope. Rowena nearly stumbled at first, but Ornstein's hold on her hand kept her upright. The further down they went, the more branches dangled just above their heads. He drew his spear with his free hand and whacked away the lowest ones. Just as he was adjusting to said task, their feet landed on flat, solid ground.

They both gasped in unison at the sight before then.

What looked to be a tall, sprawling tree greeted their entrance. It was guarded by a miniature forest, flanking the strange creature within. Off to its sides were two orange orbs, only anchored in place by thin, glowing strands of some sort. Ornstein swallowed down his horrific realization. He opened his mouth to say something to Rowena, but was interrupted by the creature's appendages slamming into the ground in front of them. The floor quaked, and it was then he noticed the cracks in the stonework.

"The anchors," Rowena said, biting back her own horror. She drew her sword. "That has to be the source of her power. I'll hack at them. Keep her distracted. I hear trees take nicely to lightning."

Before he could speak, she took off running towards the orb on the left. Ornstein stepped forward, watching what had become of the Witch. He jumped back, out of reach of one of her swipes.

A loud crack rang out from the left side of the room. He whipped his head in Rowena's direction. She peeked out from the tangle of small branches, waving her scimitar in triumph. The strand dissipated in a bright burst of light, and the room shook again. Rowena crouched down under a sturdy branch. He looked up at the mass of living branches. An orange glow danced above it, taking on the shape of tendrils. It dimmed for a moment before the tendrils burst forth from the back and took shape, the largest part tapering into a radiating scythe.

Rowena glanced up and yelled in horror at the newest development. She skittered out from the stability of roots and started running towards him. The crumbling of stone almost sent her tumbling into the void beneath the floor. A sharp pang of anxiety gnawed at Ornstein as he witnessed her regain her balance.

"I have to jump!" she called.

He shook his head. "Find a way around!"

She gestured wildly to the floor falling apart around them. "Where?" She grabbed at her hair with her free hand. "This is no time for debate! I'm jumping!"

"And fall straight into the pit and die!"

"Not if you catch me!"

In his panic, he hadn't thought of it. All the same, the gap was wide, and he was unsure if she could make such a leap. He approached the other side of the hole and held out his arms. She backed up as much as she could. Just as she was about to move, the glowing scythe skewered the ground in front of her. She screamed and fell backwards. Ornstein contained his anxious response and stood his ground. Rowena scrambled to her feet, brushing hair out of her face before breaking into a sprint and leaping across the gap.

With a clunk, she landed safely in his arms. She breathed a sigh of relief, but smacked Ornstein when he moved to set her down.

"You need to toss me to the other side."

"What?"

Ornstein leapt away from another assault from the scythe.

"Are you suddenly deaf?" Rowena shouted. "Throw me over there!"

"Rowena-"

More pieces of the floor crumbled around them. Rowena tensed up.

"Now!"

With a strong, swift toss, he acquiesced to her demands. She flew into the air with almost a spin. For a moment, it looked as if her small frame would fail to cross the gap. However, she landed with a hard roll onto the fragile ground. After a breath, Rowena stumbled to her feet, turned to face him, and dipped into the most graceless curtsy he'd ever seen.

"My thanks!" she called.

Ornstein growled under his breath and watched her run to the other orb, keeping an eye on the Witch's attacks in the interim. Rowena slipped under the fragile branches without incident, though if the floor continued its unending demise, she would have to become very creative in her method of return. He slid into the center in front of the tree mass when another sharp crack rang out in the circular room.

Everything trembled again. He glanced up. Another tendril slithered from the tree's back, procuring another Chaos-coated scythe with an angered screech. He turned his head, keeping an eye on Rowena as she crawled out between a gap in the gigantic roots.

It was then that any semblance of solid ground gave out from under him.

Ornstein let out a gasp, and in a moment of quick thinking, grabbed the edge of the floor closest to his reach. It was enough to save him, at least for now, but his armor never had the best grip on thin ledges. He cursed the oversight in the design, calculating how long he had to pull himself up between the Witch's attacks before he slipped beneath the floor for good.

Something small and frantic scrambled over his hand. His head snapped up. Rowena knelt on the floor, staring at him while she gasped for breath.

"Must you scare me like this?" she seethed. He thought of coming back with something quick and harsh, but stopped at the tears he saw threatening to spill from her eyes. Before she could speak, she offered him her free hand. "Up with you."

Rowena pulled him up to the floor until he could manage on his own. He caught her wiping her eyes with her sleeve, but said nothing. An orange circle formed around her feet. Other orange circles appeared on the floor around them. He shoved her onto a clear spot on the floor and dove into the opposite direction. Fountains of lava and Chaos shot up from the circles. Ornstein waited until the circles dissipated, then clambored to his feet. Rowena scrambled to his side. Both of their gazes drifted to the branches slithering up from the hole in the floor, then traced the one branch leading underneath the tree. He turned his head, only to find her looking at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"Care to toss me again?" she inquired.

Ornstein shook his head. "I have a better plan."

He picked her up, backed away a few steps, then took a harrowing leap to the somewhat thin branch. Rowena screeched until they landed, at which point she scurried out of his arms and crawled the rest of the way up the branch, hissing swears in his general direction.

"It worked, did it not?" he asked as she stood up and hurried towards the gap, drawing her scimitar.

"Yes," she growled, "and I'll skin you if you try that again."

"Says the woman that demanded I toss her."

She muttered something else obscene, but hacked at the branches in front of them. Wherever this place led, it would at least serve as some sort of respite away from the imminent destruction of the previous room.

He almost knocked Rowena into the dirt. She stopped dead in front of him, staring at something on the ground. It only took peeking above her to figure out what had her covering her mouth.

It was an insect.

Obviously not any ordinary insect, but one born of Chaos and the havoc it could create. It glowed the telltale orange and writhed back and forth in the dirt, as if in agony. Rowena stepped forward and knelt down next to it, eyebrows arching upward and knitting together.

"Is…" She swallowed. "Is this what's left of her? Truly?"

He slipped into the opening and knelt down on the other side of the insect. "Difficult to say." Their environment quaked again. "But we have no time to deliberate."

Rowena stared at the creature, then set her scimitar off to the side and pulled a dagger out of her belt. He studied it for a moment, though could not recall her ever brandishing it before now. The hilt was black, ornate swirls carved into it with touches of silver outlining the designs. He thought he saw a name, or initials, etched into it, but Rowena's hand covered the spot in question. Ornstein turned his attention back to the insect, the tiny remnants of what once was a master of sorcery.

Rowena held the dagger just above it. Sweat dripped down her forehead. Her hand took on the slightest tremble. Heat crept through Ornstein's feet and snaked up his legs. He looked down, the faint edges of an orange circle forming on the ground where he knelt. Rowena gasped, plunging the dagger into the flailing bug before Chaos could eat their skin alive.

The insect shrieked and writhed violently. It gradually slowed to its deathly halt, Rowena's dagger firmly in place all the while. The massive tree above their heads let out one final roar of anguish before losing whatever life it currently possessed. Ornstein stared at the insect's corpse. The time between twitches grew longer. His heart told him to mourn the thing. She, the Witch, was another piece of a golden age lost to the throes of duty, and the uncertainties that cost her everything.

His mind, however, spit on the idea. Just a bug, in the end. An insect with a Lord's Soul.

Rowena cupped the Witch's Soul in her delicate hands. Unlike the last one, she stared at it for some time. Thinking, if her concentrated stare was to be believed.

"Peace, my Lady," she mumbled. "You suffer as Chaos no longer."

Ornstein looked at her as she gently tucked the soul into her designated pouch. She stared at the fire pit next to them. He thought he caught a glisten in her eyes. Perhaps it was the trick of the light.

"Do you think they hear us?" Rowena asked after some length of silence. "Their souls, I mean."

He paused. "What is there for them to hear? 'Tis fruitless without corporeal form."

She reached over and lit the bonfire, offering a fragment of Humanity as she spoke.

"I...don't want them to think ill of me, as odd as that sounds." She clenched the hand over the fire into a fist, then relaxed it. "I do this for something good. Well...I hope it is good."

"And why do you doubt this?" he inquired. "You do this to reverse the curse that plagues your kind, to restore order to the world. There should be a sense of honor from your deeds."

Rowena shut her eyes. Distress bled from her silent form. She pulled the dagger out of the insect's corpse, staring at it. "I ended suffering, but...there was something more to this."

"It was the result of trying to save the realm, or so I've been told."

"All of this to be a savior?" She shook her head. "No one destroys their home to save it. There is no honor in that. And...I feel no honor in taking her soul."

He stayed silent at this. It was a startling contrast to her last victory. Instead of cheerful and full of hope, she doubted the integrity of her actions.

Doubt, too, washed over him in a small, temporary wave.

"Perhaps...the good it brings is seen in the end rather than the journey." He held out a hand to her. "Neither of us will know the truth if you decide rotting under a tree is better."

Rowena smiled a bit at his words and took his hand. It was ever so small in his palm.

"I pray your words ring true, Ornstein."

A/N: Wow, it's been forever, but hey! Kicked life back, so I'm back with an update and ready to get these two places! Things can only get better from here, right? Right. That's exactly how Dark Souls works...