These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.
Looking at both brands, the severed hand and eye, my mind spins. This is far beyond Novak and myself. What does it mean? Where do The Restless Hand and the elemental cults fit into it all?
I am drawn from my thoughts by the sound of steel on steel, a battle has begun nearby. With bird mask in hand the others run toward a hill just past the area the skeletal giant marched from. I scoop up the orbs that are laid out and move to catch up with them.
The dread that fills my heart over the recent revelation turns to hope as we move closer to the fight. Maybe it is survivors of Red Larch, separated from Lothric’s group and have decided to mount a rescue of their people. Better yet, maybe it is the Knights of Heironious who came to investigate the town after Lithia’s secret meeting just nights ago. Giving it all to get up the hill we are stopped dead in our tracks at the spectacle before us.
Prince Frost h as returned.
My heart fills with pride watching him. Before a huge cave mouth Amon parries one attack to drive the spear away, quickly retracting his blade to impale another who had jumped into the fray. In sync with his shield, he blocks a spear thrust on a battered, young woman mere footsteps behind him.
That pride drops as tears fill my eyes as the woman turns her face away from the bloody battle. That is when I realize there is no doubt in my heart who the woman is to me.
Shouting her name at the top of my lungs I lead the charge to our leader’s aid. Just as he falls to a knee from the onslaught of blows I leap over my long lost friend to the prince’s right flank, both axe and shortsword clearing the area. Balasar goes wide to the left, hacking down a foe who was ready to throw his weapon. A magical blast from Lithia takes out one of Amon’s assailants.
He looks at me and smiles, nodding his thanks. I remind him we are brothers and that I am always here for him.
Weakened from his grand defensive stand, Randel maneuvers behind the young warrior to heal his wounds and strengthen his body.
Reunited once again, we heroes of Red Larch press our attack. Those who join our enemies are cut down in moments by weapons and magic.
I constantly look back at my poor Jalina to see if she is alright. Fear shrouds her delicate features. Seeing my lost friend in this state makes me hate myself. I can never be forgiven for giving up on rescuing her years ago. And now, more than ever, I promise to pledge myself to Amon’s crusade of justice and righteousness.
Without him this moment would never exist.
The distraction is costly, a spear flies between the prince and my guard. Jalina’s fearful eyes widen with shock and pain as her hands go to the shaft now piercing her stomach.
I scream in rage and horror. She had just now returned to me and now death comes for her. Dropping my weapons I throw myself over her, using my body as a shield. Randal is there just as quickly. The priest looks at me gravely as Jalina’s head swoons. With tears wetting my face I beg him to save her, pleading with him that I cannot lose her.
The holy man of Pelor place my hands along with his on the spear, chanting a prayer to his god. Not knowing what is going on, not understanding his words I close my eyes and recite them with him, holding on to all faith that Randal will work a miracle. Feeling a gentle tug of the spear, it is removed from her belly. The sounds of Jalina desperately sucking in air is relieving.
I thank him though deep down it will never be enough for what Dundragon has done. Brushing the hair from her dirt stained face I assure my friend it will all be alright, that my friends and I are here to protect her. The warm smile and tears offered tells me all I need to know.
But the battle rages on.
Randal stands up beside Amon to shield us. Balasar continues to wade through our enemies outside to the left flank. Lithia steps up from behind, blasting those who get too close. Then I see him, the one who threw the spear that almost killed my precious Jalina. I take up his weapon, warning her to look away.
With a roar to shake the Heavens above I shoulder though the young warrior and priest, charging the would be killer. Without care I accept the stinging blows from those in my way, knocking them over in my rage.
Just steps away the fear in his eyes is clear, knowing I am his end. The murderer takes a step to turn and run but I prove to be quicker. Using all of my strength the spear sinks into his waist. Lifting him off his feet the killer slides down the shaft to gaze in my hate filled eyes. Again, I roar in his face as the light leaves his eyes.
Now that I know Jalina is alive none shall take her from me ever again.