Elden Ring: Advent of the Game-Given (SI/Multiverse)

"We're almost there, just a little more."

Pitter-patter.

The walk back to the Shunning Grounds was tiring, not only because we were a ways away, but also because we had to drag the corpse back with us.

There was the choice of leaving it, but that would mean we'd have to go hungry and hunt something else to keep ourselves fed.

"Drother, I an weary, canst we not rest awhile?" she asked, her soft, squeaky voice laced with exhaustion.

"I understand, sister, yet we must press on, lest the stench draws more rodents, or something worse upon us."

She didn't reply, breathing a sigh, the fatigue audible in her voice. 

No matter how dreary our life was, I never once liked seeing her like this, sad, tired, and exhausted. 

Yet, our safety was paramount, which was hypocritical of me to think, considering I was the one who suggested hunting the rodent in the first place.

A rodent that could've killed us in one bite.

Even though I put our lives at risk, she didn't say a word objecting against it, instead choosing to go along with such a risky design.

It was also why I decided to become the bait for the rodent—I owed her that much, at least.

Besides, even though I advised her, I was also quite tired, but I did not let it show, for it would only encourage her further.

We could not afford to rest, especially not when we were so close to the safest place in these accursed sewers. Otherwise, we'd just be sitting ducks in a hazardous environment—

My train of thought halted, eyes opening wide as I learned another strange sentence.

Or would it be more correct to say that I remembered? 

Yet, I'd never heard anyone say such a thing before, and I was sure it was not present in my memories, at least before remembering it.

Just what is happening to me?

Perhaps it'd be best if I had one of the Perfumers–preferably Tricia–take a look at me, once they come down again.

Letting my thoughts wander, we kept walking. A while later, I noticed a flickering light in the distance. 

As we approached closer, the pipe we were in began to transition into a brick tunnel, and the source of the light turned out to be a dancing flame lit on a wooden stick stuck between the bricks on the side of the wall.

"Behold, sister, we art almost there." I gained Mehg's attention, using one hand to point at the torch. 

Looking towards her, I saw her eyes lit up in recognition. Grasping the rodent's tail firmly, she started walking faster, forcing me to match her pace.

"Sister…" I started but chose not to say anything, relenting with a sigh.

Traversing at a faster stride, we began coming across more and more torches that lined the walls, serving as a guide to our destination, in case we ever lost our way.

Following the trail, it led us through a few twists and turns, until we eventually came across the end of the tunnel, opening up to a sizeable area.

It was much brighter, evident by the multitudes of torches littering the entire area–a large, sturdy chamber of solid walls, built with bricks, not unlike the tunnels.

There were multiple archways on both sides of the chamber, some leading to rooms, while others connected to tunnels, leading deeper underground.

Ragged clothes unceremoniously decorated the walls, as if someone had attempted to mimic the appearance of a peaceful home.

Groups of humanoids were huddled together in place. They were just like us–Omens, with horns littering their bodies, growing in various parts of their body. 

They came in various sizes, except most were much bigger than us.

The Subterranean Shunning Grounds—they called it, an apt name, given all who were shunned found themselves down there.

Our entrance caused some to glance at us, their eyes mostly lingering on the corpse we dragged across the ground. 

However, we did not stop walking, as I led my sister straight along, towards the end of the chamber.

I kept staring straight ahead, but eventually, my gaze wandered, landing on some of the Omens that rested along the walls, their forms gaunt, a sign that they had been starving for a while now.

Yet, I wasn't the only one staring at them, as they stared back at us, specifically the corpse we had dragged with us.

Their hungry eyes glared at the carcass as if trying to devour it and satiate their hunger from a distance.

The only thing stopping them from jumping at us was the non-violence rule, enforced by the majority of the Omens to keep the peace of the Shunning Grounds.

Any who broke this rule would find themselves ostracized, and abandoned even by their kin.

I knew that, they knew that, and that was why I wasn't too worried about having our food taken away from us, as the other Omen would take care of any who caused mischief within these chambers.

Making our way through, we reached the end of the chamber and moved over to the side.

An archway was built into the wall, leading to another room. A thick cloth blocked our inside view, acting as a curtain.

Pushing it aside, we traversed through the archway, entering a small room resembling a kitchen.

Stepping inside, my gaze fell upon the lone Omen standing by a rotting, wooden table, inspecting a worn pan in his hands.

He wore an old cloth around his upper body, as an impromptu apron. 

He was missing his left leg, as if something had cut it off from the knee, leaving only a scarred stump.

However, his leg wasn't the only thing he was missing, as there were stumps marring his entire body, stumps where the horns would usually grow from.

He hadn't noticed us yet, as his gaze was pointed downwards, focusing on the pot he held, most likely searching for cracks, or any sign of rust.

We waited a few moments for him to notice us, but it didn't work. Seeing that he wouldn't look our way any time soon, my sister took the initiative to get his attention.

"Ahem… ahem, ahem!" She cleared her throat loudly, causing the Omen to look in our general direction before his eyes focused on us, lighting up with recognition.

"Oh, it's you kids again," he greeted, his voice gruff, with a slight raspiness to it.

"Greetings Gordon, art thou busy, at this moment?" I greeted back, politely asking for some of his time.

Putting down the pan, he picked up an old cane at his side and used it as support while he hobbled over to us.

"Nay, I was just checkin' on some of the utensils, nothin' too important."

Coming closer, his gaze landed on the corpse behind me, allowing him to discern our reason for being here.

"A rat? Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time," he said, muttering the last few bits under his breath, "Give me some time, and I'll let you know when it's ready."

"And the 'ay'ent?" Mehg piped up from behind, always ready to ask the same question whenever we brought any dead animals to him.

"Ay…ment? Oh, the payment! Eh, just a few bits of that should last me a day or two." Pointing his finger, he gestured at the corpse.

"Art thou certain?" I asked, a courtesy I could afford thanks to the rodent's size.

"Well, look at you, acting all grown up and worryin' about little ol' me," he teased, roughly ruffling my hair while avoiding the horns, but not to the point where it would hurt.

"Argh, cease I say! Cease!" I raised my voice, not because it hurt, but because I found it annoying that he treated me like a child, even though I was old enough to hunt.

Mehg just stood by and watched, giggling at his antics at the expense of my suffering.

She's a traitor, I tell you!

Perhaps hearing my thoughts, Gordon changed targets, now ruffling her hair instead. Yet, his tousling was visibly lighter than when he ruffled my hair.

"Hihihi– Kyaa! He– Dro- Drother, save me!" She "cried" for help, her giggles never stopping all the while Gordon messed with her hair.

I looked away in mock anger, pouting at the difference in treatment. 

After a few moments, he finally stopped the ruffling, leaving Mehg be as she tried to fix her messy hair.

Taking a few steps back towards the table, he stared at us, though it felt as if his eyes were staring into something beyond, judging by the smile he had on his face.

"Gordon?" Seeing him out of it, my sister called out his name, bringing him back to reality.

"Ist there something on thy mind?" I asked him, as the sudden change was quite concerning for us.

"Eh, nothin' much… just that you kids have changed quite a bit, compared to when I saw you the first time, all those years ago."

We stayed silent as he started reminiscing about the moment that marked the beginning of our lives in this place.

Our lives truly started when Tricia brought us down here when we were four years old. As to what I mean by that…

"I su'ose we didst, considering we remem'er not aught 'rom be'ore we descended here."

Truly, she was correct. Not a single thing. It was as if we were empty husks back then, gently brought down here by Tricia, who had a profoundly sad look on her face. Her expression remains as clear as day in my memories, even now.

No matter how often I asked her about our past, she'd always skillfully evade the topic.

'Ye art much too young to know.'

Those words, that sentence. After saying that, she'd end the discussion every time, and eventually, I stopped asking.

"Say, do you kids still not remember anythin'?" he questioned curiously.

My sister scrunched her face in concentration, trying to dig up any memories before our time here. She failed of course, and denied with a shake of her head.

Unlike her, I did not make any outrageous faces, but my brows furrowed in concentration.

A few moments later, I came to a decision and relayed it audibly.

"No," I said curtly.

Hearing my answer and seeing her denial, Gordon shrugged his shoulders, though his eyes did linger on me for a moment longer.

"Is that so… eh, forget it. As long as you're both all right, it doesn't matter," he told us, his gruff tone unable to hide the care and concern he held for us.

I let out a breath I was holding, satisfied that he hadn't caught my lie. 

It's not that I was afraid of him or anything of the like, rather I just wasn't sure if those "memories" were truly my memories or a part of those strange dreams.

Images of humongous buildings of glass and bricks, strange metal contraptions, and multitudes of people, all of them bearing not one horn.

Then, images of a giant of a man with a beast perched on his shoulders, of another smaller humanoid covered in reddish-gold armor with a large tree-like weapon, of grand hallways of gilded gold passed through my mind.

Two distinct imageries, both contrasting each other. It was difficult to tell which was real, and which was not, or if both were simply figments of my imagination, as I hadn't seen either before with my eyes.

"Anyways, you kids can leave so I can get to work," perhaps he was embarrassed, but he hurriedly started driving us out of the kitchen, "Go ahead, shoo, shoo!"

We did as he said, not offering any resistance as we pushed through the curtain and left the room.

Once we were back in the main chambers, Mehg leaned on me, hugging my side tightly.

"Drother, canst we rest now?" she pleaded, exhaustion seeping into her body.

"I suppose we canst, as we art in danger no longer," I obliged, seeing as we did not have to worry about being attacked anymore.

With tired steps, we headed over to one of the archways, marked with a dark cloth hanging above.

Traveling through it, we set foot in a dark room, barely able to make out the forms of a few sleeping Omen, due to a single lamp sitting in the corner.

Carefully measuring our steps, we made our way to the corner directly opposite the lamp, our eyes set upon a crudely made bed of cloths and straws we found in the sewers.

I sat down first, taking off my clothing–a tattered, plain robe that looked more like if someone stitched some rags together instead of actual clothing.

It was big enough to cover my entire body, so I did not feel the need to wear anything else other than a loincloth to cover my private parts, not that there was much to see for someone my age.

A sudden touch on my back caused me to grunt. Turning my head, I found my sister touching the light wounds I had gained from when the rodent pounced on me.

"What art thou doing?!" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down so I did not wake anyone up.

"...Thou'rt hurt. Why didst thou not tell 'e?" she questioned in a chilly tone, causing me to straighten up unconsciously.

"I shalt be fine, for t'is only a few scratches, and nothing more." I tried to reassure her, but she did not believe me.

Sitting directly behind me, she put her hands on both my shoulders. She gestured for me to look straight forward, but I did not listen, staring intensely into her eyes.

"Hath thou forgotten? What Tricia warned us of?" I asked, maintaining eye contact as I tried to remind her.

"I hath not. Even so, thou'rt hurt," she answered, this time raising her voice by a small margin.

"I am, though, t'is nothing but a scratch," I affirmed her statement, throwing in a joke that was most likely from one of my dreams to lighten the mood.

It failed to work, of course.

"I like it not, no," she breathed hard, her grip on my shoulders tightening, "I loathe it, I cannot bear to see thee hurt."

"Thou'rt not the only one to feel that." Raising my arms, I laid my hands upon hers, gently grasping them in support.

Just as I disliked seeing her hurt, so did she. 

It was natural to feel this way as we were twins, born from the same womb. We were quite literally two peas in a pod.

We only had each other to take care of us. Sure, there were Gordon and Tricia, but neither was much help whenever we ventured deeper into the sewers for food.

So it was natural for us to have feelings of overprotectiveness toward each other.

Knowing that, I let out a sigh, letting go of her hands, and carefully observing the room to ensure all were asleep as I let her have her way.

"Very well, but be swift about it, and see that Tricia, nor anyone else know aught of this," I told her.

Hearing my approval, she giddily hugs me briefly, while avoiding my wounds.

Then, I felt her removing one hand, and heard her bite on something before she started rubbing her thumb–now wet with most likely her blood–across my wounds.

At first, nothing happened, but a few moments later my wounds started to heat up, causing me to hiss silently as I bit down harshly.

I could feel my skin knitting together, and repairing itself. Truly, it was a miracle–the power to heal wounds through her blood.

We knew not who bestowed it on her. When we told Tricia of this after discovering it, she became distraught, asking us not to use it again.

My sister didn't listen, of course.

Any attempts to learn of its origins were met with failure, as whenever we asked, she'd become silent, not willing to continue the conversation.

Asking the other Omen was not an option either, according to Tricia and our judgment. There was no telling how they might react, or if they would try to force her to use it. 

Even though the power only worked when Mehg willed it to, they could force her by threatening me or anyone else we cared about. So we stopped trying to pursue any leads ever since then.

It took a few more moments, before the wounds fully healed. 

Once they did, Mehg let go of my shoulders, stretching her body as she yawned, while I sat against the wall, straightening my legs and laying my tattered robes on them.

"Thou'rt verily tired. Lay down, and rest awhile," I told her, patting my legs, gesturing her to lay her head down on them, instead of the ground.

It barely took a moment before she took the spot, resting her head on my covered legs, her face facing my stomach.

As she settled into place, the exhaustion finally set in, and she fell asleep.

Caressing her hair lightly, I too felt my eyelids beginning to shut as I was tired, just like her. I almost did fall asleep…

Whrrinng.

Abruptly, a bright light began shining on my face out of nowhere, momentarily blinding me.

I waved my hand around haphazardly, hoping to get rid of it, but it didn't seem to work.

Closing my eyes tightly, I tried opening them again and blinked repeatedly to get rid of the blindness. A few moments later, I'd adapted to the sudden brightness, finally getting a closer look at what it was.

[Age Requirement Met… Adjusting Parameters… Initializing Sub-Systems…]

The sudden intrusion of the voice shook me, almost causing me to stand up, and rouse Mehg from her sleep.

[Destroying both Memory Seals in 5… 4… 3…]

Memory… Seals… what?

[2…]

Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean by that?

[1…]

"Tell me, who are–"

[Initiating Seal Destruction.]

I didn't get to finish my sentence, as the voice interrupted me, and I started losing consciousness.

I did my best to resist, but its hold on me was much greater, as it forced my consciousness deeper and deeper into my mind, until I finally passed out.