I Had a Name - Prequel (Dark Souls)

Prequel: What Once Was
Limp_Nicky






Chosen undead, let that mark be not a bane, not a curse, but an eternal reminder. A reminder of who you are. What you stand for. Where you have went. Where you will go. What you will see. What you have seen. Your weapon, a catalyst of purification. Your mind, an open path for those who have lost their way. You. Thee who emanates hope with every step, but loses it in the process. You, who pulls the shroud of darkness over yourself in hope of revealing the light to others. You, in your brilliance, will light the way.

Go forth, Chosen Undead.

Go forth, and rekindle the flame that once was.









I had a name once.

I had a name. I had a job. I had a family. I had a life.

I had a name once.

The curse changes everything. The curse does not forgive. The curse shows no mercy. Memories melt from your mind, like wax to a flame. Life drips from your being with every beat of your heart. Your soul burns in agony, twisting and writhing in pain. The curse leaves behind nothing more than a husk. The curse is a reminder of what once was. The curse is a reminder of what will be. The curse is a reminder of the futility of struggle. The curse leaves behind nothing more than a hollowed being, filled with despair and madness.

I had a name once.

I wasn't put here out of spite. At least, I don't remember it that way. I remember the knight who had found me. I remember his face. I remember how he was holding back tears, how his voice trembled when he spoke as he proclaimed my arrest. I was put here for my own good. I was put here in an attempt to contain the Darksign. The knight was very gentle when he put me here. He opened the gate, and allowed me to walk in on my own accord. No shoving, no yelling. I remember that he didn't look back when he left me. He just walked away, albeit slowly. I remember his arms at his sides, trembling gently.

This was, of course, before the Darksign spread like wildfire, and the great demon was put in place to prevent any escape from the asylum. Food stopped coming shortly afterwards, and this was when things became complicated. Those afflicted started to die, and those who died were doomed to losing sanity. I watched as many patients began to bang their heads against walls, and as others took their own lives in an attempt to end the torment, only to come back in even more pain.

I laid in a puddle of water that had formed when rain had fallen through the long ruined roof of the asylum. 14 years had passed since I had been admitted to the asylum. Or was it 13? I don't remember. It was more than 10, it had to have been. 10. 10 came after 9. 10 was more than 8, and it was less than 11. I brought my hands up to my face, and squeezed my temples in agony. Why did it hurt to remember? These were numbers. Numbers used to be easy to remember. I laid my head back, resting it on a stone that had fallen from the roof, and looked at the sunlight piercing through the roof.

I smiled. The sun was so beautiful. Even on a particularly cloudy day like this one, it was very beautiful. No matter what happened, the sun would never betray me. The sun would never do anything to hurt me. The sun would always shine bright, and it would always warm my long-cold bones.

A figure appeared near the hole in the roof, blocking out my warm sun. Something loud splashed in the puddle I laid in, startling me. I looked up, using my hand to block out my glorious sun. After a moment, my aging and hollowed eyes focused on what the object was. A knight in shining silver armor, cloaked in a blue tabard, was peering into the hole. He simply nodded his head and stood up. I could hear his boots clink as he walked away.

Turning my attention to the sack that had been dropped in my cell, I slowly and painfully lifted my aching body, and worked my way to it. I opened the sack, finding a set of armor, a blade, a shield, and a key. I thought about the key longer than a human should, the thought of ever leaving this cell long from my mind. Hope was something that left me long ago. Realizing what the key was for after several moments, my heart began to thump in my chest. I was nervous. After all of these years, I felt an emotion other than intense despair. I put on the boots, legs, and breastplate. I clipped the heavy pauldron onto my left shoulder, and slid on the gauntlets. I held the helmet in my hands, examining its features.

It looked just like the one that the knight was wearing when he arrested me. I gently placed it on my head, but noticed that the face guard wouldn't close. The fall must have damaged it. Finally, I took up the blade in my right hand, and placed the shield over a leather strap on my back. I stood just before the gate that kept me in my cell. I slid the key into the lock, and even after all these years, the lock clicked, and the rusty gate gently swung open, squeaking loudly.

I cannot describe my reluctance to take the first step out. I turned around and looked inside of my cell, looking at what had once been my home. My lower lip quivered briefly. I turned back around, and with a deep breath, I stepped from my cell. The asylum hallway was something I had often peered into, but walking down it filled me with an anxiety that I had never felt before. With every step, my boots would slosh in the puddles that filled the hallway. My new armor would clink as the pieces would bump into each other.

"Cold...c-c-cold...cold…" I heard a voice whimper. As I neared the end of the hallway, I noticed an individual with dark pink skin, holding his head in his hands. He looked up, his eyes darting to me, and then to my blade, and then back to me. He threw himself on the ground, and skittered to the wall, his back now firmly against it. As I came closer, he threw his hands up to shield his head, and whimpered even harder, shaking with fear.

I unsheathed my sword, and with careful precision, cut open the sack that had held my armor and equipment, forming a large, burlap blanket. I knelt down next to the poor fellow, and draped the blanket over him. He looked up at me, fear in his eyes as they darted around my face. He sniffled, and gently gripped the blanket around him, pulling it tight in an attempt to warm himself.

"You need this more than I, friend. I am unsure why, but I think it may get cold soon. Very cold." I said, looking him in his eyes. His sclerae was a pink lighter than his skin, and his iris' had long turned blood red. I stood back up, and as I did, he solemnly looked at the floor, holding his new blanket wrapped around him.

"Cold…" He whispered. It hurt me to continue on, but I knew I would meet many that had succumbed to the Darksign. There was nothing to be done.

I had long forgotten how large the asylum was. I carefully trudged through winding halls, until I found a ladder, which led me to the area directly before the massive courtyard. I remember the courtyard. We used to congregate there and talk. Occasionally, the guards would even throw little parties, and we would be allowed to attend. They were held annually, and they were in memory of something, a city, I believe. I couldn't remember all the details.

I walked up the cracked stone steps, my armor still clinking, and approached the wide wooden doors before me. With a mighty push, the old wooden doors slowly scraped against the stone floors, revealing the moss covered courtyard. A bloodcurdling growl followed. Before I could react, a mass of black flesh slammed into the ground before me, and howled.

The creature before me was easily 5 times my size. It had a wide bottom with two stubby legs and a long torso. Its head had two antlers on it, its face had two red eyes, and its mouth had no lips, revealing sharp fangs. Its enormous, fleshy wings flapped slowly, as if preparing to fly.

"Human." It spoke, steam coming through the holes on its face that I assumed were nostrils. "Thou darest betray Lord Gwyn?"

"Lord Gwyn?" I asked, confused. The demon briefly looked to his side, taking up his mighty weapon shakily, which appeared to be an enormous tree trunk fashioned into the shape of a brilliant hammer. If a creature as big as this demon was having trouble lifting this hammer, I could only imagine how heavy it was.

"I see. Thou art lost. Very well." It spoke solemnly. Its voice was extremely deep, frightening even. But something in its voice gave off the feeling of pain. It slowly brought up the hammer, and my heart began to beat faster than it had beaten in my entire internment. Right before the hammer came down, I jumped and rolled, every joint in my body searing with pain. I had not moved in this fashion in ages, but luckily a combination of adrenaline and intense fear blocked out the pain. I quickly scrambled to my feet, and ran for an opening on the left side of the courtyard. A door was still open, thankfully.

The hammer came down, and as it did, the entire courtyard shook violently. The sheer shock threw me off of my feet, and back onto the ground. The impact of the hammer threw up a dust cloud, giving me enough time and cover to escape through the doorway. Not wanting to stick around near the courtyard, I ran right through the room and into what appeared to be an open-air hallway. I heard the demon's wings flap, followed by the loud sound of the hammer smashing into one of the buildings. Then came the aftershocks of the impact. Whatever the demon hit, it hit hard.

Continuing my sprint through the open air hallway, I ran right back inside of the asylum, up a few sets of stairs. After the hallways had finished winding, I was back out onto a balcony of sorts, one that overlooked the area before the courtyard. The massive wooden doors that led inside had been closed shut once more. I was surprised the impact of the hammer didn't completely rip the doors off of the hinges. As I walked down the balcony, I noticed a part of the wall on my right that didn't look stable. In fact, I could hear labored breathing on the other side.

Curious and nervous, I couldn't help myself. Something was telling me that I needed to get to the other side of this wall. I brought my leg up, mustered all of the strength that I had, and slammed it against the wall. A few pebbles and rocks were dislodged, and the larger stones moved slightly. I brought it up again, and kicked twice. The stones tumbled down, revealing a room to the balcony.

Inside the room laid a knight on top of a pile of rubble, blood splattered about him. Sunlight shined through a massive hole in the roof, illuminating him and making his armor glow. His head lazily looked at me as I walked in the room. I could hear his loud breathing. Something appeared to have slammed him through the roof and into his room.

"Ah, you're no hollow...thank goodness…" He managed to sputter. "Brother, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He continued. I could see drops of blood falling from the bottom of his helmet and onto his breastplate. "I tried to distract the damned beast. I suppose it worked, eh? Just like our youth…" He chuckled, his helmet shaking. He stopped chuckling when he noticed the look on my face. "Ah...you don't remember. I do not know why I expected otherwise. I'm clinging to hope, I is fine, brother. I shall not confuse you further."

The knight trembled as he removed a key from his belt and an emerald container that had a faint orange glow to it. It looked like a fat bottle of sorts.

"I'm done for, I'm afraid. I'll die soon, and lose my sanity." The knight coughed. "I have something to ask of you. You and I, were both undead. Hear me out, will you?" He asked, struggling to speak. I nodded my head.

"Regrettably, I have failed in my mission. But perhaps you can keep the torch lit. There is an old saying in ou-" The knight paused. "My. My family. Ahem. " The knight did his best to clear out his throat. "Thou who art undead art chosen. In thine exodus from the undead asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of ancient lords. When thou ringeth the bell of awakening, the fate of the undead, thou shalt know."

The knight's head drooped for a moment, before bobbing back up and looking at me again.

"Now…" His voice trembled. I could hear the want to cry in his voice. "Now I can die with hope in my heart…" He sniffled several times in succession. "Take these, brother." He said, gently holding out both the emerald container and key. I took them both, and watched as his hands fell to the ground afterwards. "Go now brother. I do not want to harm you after death…" The knight whimpered. He was beginning to flake away, like ashes from a fire. "Thank you. Thank you…" He nearly whispered. His head finally slunk, and as it did, his body burst into flakes and drifted away.

I was not certain what the pain was in my chest. My heart hurt in a way that it had not hurt in ages. I felt something in my eyes which made me blink rapidly, and when I wiped them, I was surprised to discover that they were now wet. I was crying, and I didn't know why. My mind felt as if it was thrashing in agony, trying in vain to remember something. It was no use.

The curse changes everything. The curse does not forgive. The curse shows no mercy.

I had a name once.

That much, I remember.