Prologue

Dying is uncomfortable.

I should know – I can bet you my estus flask that no one has died as many times as I had, in so many
ways as I had.

…Well, at least I could earlier, before coming to this… place, where you guys have all this weird
shit…

…Oh, c’mon, it’s not that weird… and that… okay, right. Maybe my old world had more weird things
than yours.

...Hm? Oh well, it’s started long ago – don’t make me go into detail, you know most of it!..

Well, I suppose I could tell you… not much to do anyway, so…

Right. Well, it all started when I Burned for the final time…

**

Flames lazily danced on my fingertips, slowly climbing up my arm.

It didn’t hurt, not really. Well, maybe it did, but I got so used to pain at this point – especially the pain
from Burning - that I no longer cared.

Flames sped up, happily eating my thrice undead flesh and armor that, for the longest time, did not
protect anything living.

“The Sun is beautiful” I said to no one in particular – I wasn’t even sure that black hole wrapped in an
orange light was the Sun - just filling the void of sound, that seemed to consume the entire World.

World…

What’s left of it anyway?

I look around, as if I managed to forget the scenery for the time it took me to kill The Soul Of Cinder –
for some reason, I just wanted to call it like that.

«Architectural abomination» - the definition came to mind, aptly describing the mess of buildings from
all epochs of this cursed world.

Structures intruded upon each other, unnaturally intertwining in ways that would’ve made any architect
scratch their head and vomit their guts out, from trying to figure out how laws of physics allowed
something like that to exist.

I was no architect – a killer would’ve been more accurate description of what I’ve been doing for the
last thousands (or how many?) years – but even my brain felt sick, when looking at those amalgamates
of stone and glass and wood.

Beyond buildings – was the desert of cinders.

Dead-grey ashes stretched all the way to the horizon, and, where the collapsing space-time continuum
of this world allowed it, buried another gothic palace or castle underneath thousands of tons of calx,
only letting the short towers on top to peek out of the grey grave.
In other worlds - nothing.

Dead. There is no life left – what was still living, I just made sure not so long ago that it died, along
with the existence that birthed it.

The Gods, Dragons, Lords of Cinder, even The Soul…

There is nothing left.

I killed everything that stood in my path on the quest to save that very thing.

Well, except Lothric. The guy just came out and said that he couldn’t give a shit about this world
dying.

Not that I blame him – I just do this, because I have nothing better to do.

Flames started to tingle the skin now – probably that means that I’m not long for this world.

Again.

How many times have I done this? Three, I think – the first was when I killed Gwyn, the second was
that skeleton lady - I swear, I think she was a remnant of Manus, I recognize that stench anywhere –
and now is the third time.

I remember being so confused for the second one – Gods, how long ago was it? Millennia? Two?
More? Probably more. – and not only confused, but angry too – I was so happy to die for the final time
at that bonfire, under that fucking tree – I would’ve been laughing and dancing, was it not for the
unholy pain I felt all over my body (back then I could still feel pain – good times!).

Don’t take me wrong – living (as much as this term can be applied to me) again was nice, but after
dying so many times life stops being so interesting of a concept.

…Well, maybe life would’ve become interesting again, if I didn’t have to do the same thing over and
over for… a very long time.

Kill, die, repeat… Absorb some souls whenever I could…

Life sucked, and death is uncomfortable.

What sucked more is that I couldn’t remember the time… before.

Before the Curse, before The End Times, before the Demons…

I mean, there had to be something – I still had a medallion on a string hanging around my neck (the
only thing that went through all my… misadventures) with an image of the beautiful woman, so that
was somehow important to me before?

Was she my wife? A goddess? Something else?

My nose caught the smell of my burning flesh, and I felt a familiar tug at my soul.

Well, it didn’t matter now, anyway.

Whoever she was – she died a long time ago, and the person who held her dear did too…

Only I left, and even that is soon going to be not true.

Not that I cared.

That was around this moment, that I felt different.

The tug at my soul, the tongues of Flame that supposed to devour my being, retreated.

“What?” words incredulously slipped from my mouth, as I watched flames on my body to waver… and
die down.

This… is new.

Soon, I was free from fire and the embers in the final bonfire were slowly going extinguished.

I stupidly watched the source of all life – of Everything – slowly die and I couldn’t bring myself to
care about it.

Soon the Darkness started enveloping the world around me into its cold blanket, soothingly
whispering with the dying winds.

I was supposed to be scared – the whole existence as I knew was dying, and I was sure to follow it…

And I was.

For the first time in my memory I was truly, devastatingly, scared of dying.

So, I did the first thing that came to mind.

I ate the Embers.

**

Yeah, heh, looking back I don’t know where that idea came from.

I guess I was just desperate – truly, it’s miraculous what fear of dying can push people to…

…Stop laughing… though, I suppose you’re right – it’s filthy rich coming from me… in more ways
than one.

**

I Burned.

Truly Burned now, as I was the first time, with mind numbing pain.

Every cell, every part of my being Burned with pain and fire.

And yet as my body was howling with great pain, my mind screamed:

“Please! Get me out of here! Anywhere, please!”

I suppose that was enough for the last spark of divinity – or whatever there was in the Embers – to
comply.

I felt myself falling.

And then Darkness.

And then – Sun.

 **

A breath of fresh air.

Fresh.