Maidenless No Longer (Elden Ring)

“A pleasure to meet thee, Tarnished. I am the witch Renna, and I’d heard tell of a-!”
 
Ranni can only blink, as the Tarnished trots past her on Torrent’s back, reaching out and snatching the Spirit Calling Bell from her hand almost too fast for even her to see in her imperfect doll form, let alone stop. As he sticks the Spirit Calling Bell to his belt, he gives her a knowing smile and a nod… and then continues on his way, just like that.
 
“… What just happened?”
 
-x-X-x-
 
Ranni the Witch’s first interaction with the Tarnished the kindling maiden had chosen to pin her hopes upon was… interesting, to say the least. But in the end, she had decided not to pursue him for his disrespect. Not only would it make her seem desperate, but in the end, the intention had been followed through. Perhaps with far less words than Ranni had anticipated, but if the Tarnished had somewhere to be, then he had somewhere to be.
 
Indeed, what mattered was that he was Torrent’s new master, and that she’d passed off the Spirit Calling Bell as she intended. With that done, Ranni was all too happy to wash her hands of her lost fragment. After all, the kindling maiden might have been born of her, but they were not one in the same… not any longer. What the one who called herself Melina did going forward was of little concern to Ranni. Their paths had diverged, and their plans, thankfully, did not contradict one another.
 
Of course, her plan to steer clear of the kindling maiden and her Tarnished had soon been tested, when he showed designs for Ranni’s mother. She may no longer be the Lunar Princess Ranni, and thus not able to stand by her mother’s side and comfort her directly, but Ranni would not allow harm to be done to the last Queen of Caria. Not on her watch.
 
Imagine her surprise, when the Tarnished had instead brought Rennala comfort. Imagine her surprise, when the meeting between her mother and her fragment’s Tarnished had resulted in a coupling, rather than bloodshed.
 
… In the end, it was still no matter to Ranni the Witch. But then Iji reported the Tarnished coming up the road, towards the Manor. And in no time at all, the Tarnished had fought his way through, even dispatching the shade of Knight Loretta as he made his way unerringly to her home in the Three Sisters.
 
Even now, Ranni was aware of him approaching her tower. He hadn’t even bothered to check out the others. He’d made his way straight towards her Rise. And so, she’d begun to prepare. If there was to be a meeting, she must be presentable. Even in this doll body, Ranni refused to be… looked down upon. And so, finding the four thickest tomes that she could, she’d placed them on her chair. Straightening out her dress, she’d made sure her hat was firmly atop her head and not in danger of falling off.
 
As the Tarnished ascends the elevator up her tower, Ranni hops up onto the chair, sitting tall… at least a few inches taller than the tall Tarnished, if her memory serves her well (which of course, it always does). And finally, as he climbs the winding stairs the rest of the way up to her room, she busies herself with smoothing her skirts.
 
Finally turning the corner, the Tarnished finds her waiting for him, head slightly bowed. As he approaches, she reveals her face, gazing upon him as one pair of her hands clasp together in her lap and the other come together in a bridge above the first. This time around, Ranni had no intention of letting things be… cut short.
 
“It seems we cross paths once more, Tarnished. I believe… I did not get a chance to introduce myself, when last we met.”

Ranni pauses here, deliberately.
 
“It pleaseth me to see Torrent, hale and hearty. But Tarnished, what business hast thou here? I have no memory of inking thee an invitation.”
 
The Tarnished does not speak. From observing his comings and goings, Ranni has already discerned that this is his Thing, so to speak. He does not communicate verbally, but that doesn’t stop him from giving her a knowing smile and a look that confirms Ranni’s suspicions.
 
“Ah. Quite the sleuth, aren’t we? Indeed, tis I. Ranni the Witch. Yes, I stole a fragment of the Rune of Death, and used it to forge the godslaying black knives that brought low Godwyn the Golden, through fearsome rite. I did it all. Is that what thou wisheth to hear?”
 
The Tarnished cocks his head to the side, and Ranni sniffs indignantly.
 
“Sadly for thee, the cursemark thou seekest is not to be found here. I have slain the body I was born into… and cast it away. Tis upon that flesh that the cursemark is carved.”
 
Her tone is uncaring, and it is true. Ranni finds herself… divorced from her actions that Night of the Black Knives. Circumstance has seen her become something else from the one who initially set those actions into motion. Lunar Princess Ranni is dead. Ranni the Witch is what remains.
 
But of course, the Tarnished is likely little satisfied with just that much. The corner of Ranni’s mouth quirks up and she hums.
 
“Dost thou wait for answers? And why should I reveal the location of my previous body to thee, hm?”
 
Shaking her head, Ranni let the fringe of her large brimmed hand hide her face for just a moment.
 
“I performed the act not to bury the past, nor in shame of the deed. But all the same, begging will compel me not a jot. The cursemark thou sleekest is not here. That is all I will say. Now, begone.”
 
There. This time around, the encounter had gone the way she intended, from start to finish. Ranni preferred to think herself above the banal act of  pettiness, but perhaps that was not entirely the case here. This Tarnished had… irked her, a fair bit. How long had it been, since any could say they’d done so? Even Seluvis and the schemes of his that he thought she knew nothing of were more a subject of disgust and revulsion, than irritation.
 
To her mild surprise, the Tarnished does not grow angry or upset with her. Twould have been amusing, if this was where he broke his silence, out of sheer frustration at her obstinate refusal to give him what he wanted. But instead, the silent Tarnished merely smiles, bows his head in acknowledgment, and turns and walks out.
 
Ranni watches him go, slightly nonplussed for a moment, before she begins to ready herself to jump down from her perch. Luckily, she took that moment to collect herself, because before she can do so… he walks back in, as if he hadn’t just left, as if this was a whole new interaction.
 
Stilling herself upon her seat, Ranni the Witch opens her mouth to speak, only to watch in silence as the Tarnished drops to one knee before her, his head bowed low. Truly? He can’t seriously mean to… and yet, it would seem so. Long has it been, since Ranni was so… confused by another’s actions. People were, in her experience, normally quite easy to understand. But this Tarnished… he baffled her, at times.
 
Cocking her head to the side, the Ranni the Witch purses her lips together.
 
“Thou wouldst render me aid? Is that thy proposal?”
 
Lifting his head, the Tarnished’s expression has become altogether solemn, as he slowly nods. Peering down at him piercingly, Ranni searches for deceit… and to her mild surprise, finds none. But that just means he’s quite the liar. After all, she already KNOWS what he wants, doesn’t she? She will not be tricked or fooled, no matter how good a liar this Tarnished is. Though she does briefly wonder at just how taken in the kindling maiden must be, at this point.
 
“Affording thyself opportunity to grope about for the cursemark’s location, no doubt.”
 
It is not a question, and she waves a hand instinctively, to cut off a protest that does not come. Feeling slightly foolish, Ranni nevertheless does not let it show, barreling onward and overriding the nonexistent attempt at defending his honor that the Tarnished does not even try to mount. Hmph, so deceitful one second, so willing to acknowledge his deceit the next. Such a strange fellow…
 
“Very well. Indeed, there’s nothing wrong with a well-laid scheme. What’s more… if my past and past wounds beckon to thee, I AM curious enough to see what thy destiny portends…”
 
After all, her former body and the Cursemark of Death that lies upon it… matters naught to neither her nor the kindling maiden, from what Ranni knows of the fragment’s motivations. Indeed, while she and that part of herself, reconstituted and repurposed by the Eternal, are now separate in both thought and body, it is not hard, to discern Melina’s plans.
 
None of those plans, as far as Ranni is aware, should involve her cursemark. Which does beg the question… what exactly is the Tarnished playing at, here? Rather, just how long is the leash that the kindling maiden has her Tarnished on? How far does the slack go? What other paths, what other quests, is this Tarnished pursuing at the same time he is in service to the fragment? The Deathbed Companion and the Sorcerer known as Rogier, at the very least, are winding the Tarnished up in their plots.
 
But who else might he serve, besides her fragment and them? Who else might bend the Tarnished’s ear? And most importantly of all… how far can Ranni trust him to serve her out of his own self-interest?
 
Well, to that last question at least, Ranni the Witch is determined to find out the answer.
 
“I’ll allow it. Enter my service, Tarnished. And good hunting to thee.”
 
The Tarnished gives another solid nod, his face as solemn as before. He is serious about this. Good… good. She could make use of this, at least.
 
“Good, then I ask we proceed with haste. There is, in my service, a half-wolven warrior by the name of Blaidd.”
 
She peers at the Tarnished, looking for a reaction to that. She gets it, noting the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, his smile widening ever so slightly. Ah, so he’s had prior experience with Blaidd, and from the look of things, positive prior experience at that. Very good, that should make things easier.
 
“I would have thee join him in searching for the hidden treasure of Nokron, the Eternal City for me. I have called Blaidd to greet thee below. Take from him the particulars.”
 
Ranni pauses for a moment, before continuing almost off-handedly.
 
“Ah, and there wilt thou find Iji, my war counselor, and Seluvis, preceptor in the sorcerous arts, also.”
 
If she’s hoping to surprise the Tarnished with the reveal of Iji’s true identity, she does not get that. However, what she DOES get is another reaction, this time to the mention of Seluvis. Somehow, Ranni gets the impression that the Tarnished is angry… very, very angry. Hm, it’s quite telling, how Melina’s Tarnished reacts to these things. Seluvis’ actions are known to Ranni, but not for lack of trying on his part.
 
Indeed, the Preceptor has done everything in his middling power to hide his activities from her and everyone else. His plans are known to her only because she is Ranni the Witch, and she is no one’s fool. But for the Tarnished to have a preexisting opinion of Seluvis, and a quite negative one at that… tis very interesting, to say the least.
 
Ranni considers commenting on it for a moment, she considers telling the Tarnished that Seluvis has his uses and should not be touched, for now. But in the end, she decides not to be quite so direct. Circumspection should serve just as well here, she imagines.
 
“Heed not their peculiarities, Tarnished. Indeed, feel secure in gaining from them whatever advantage thou canst. I am sure they will be doing just the same, in turn.”
 
Another serious nod from the Tarnished. It almost makes Ranni smile again. He’s an odd one, this Tarnished. But perhaps more useful than she originally thought. Perhaps… perhaps there was a reason the kindling maiden had chosen him out of her admittedly limited pool of options.
 
“Speak with the three who await thee below. Thou needst not indulge them unduly but expect that they too wish to appraise thy worth. It hath been a passing long time since a newcomer entered my service, after all.”
 
Squaring his shoulders, the Tarnished looks ready to depart. But Ranni has one last thing to say to him first.
 
“Ah, before thou leaves, allow me to forewarn thee. I shall soon enter my slumber, and it will be some time before I wake.”
 
Here, Ranni allows a small fraction of irritation to truly leak into her voice. A feint? Perhaps, but there is some honesty to the tone.
 
“This doll’s body is not without its hindrances, I’m afraid. Still, I have high hopes for thee. I look forward to the good news, when I arise.”
 
And with that, she motions the Tarnished away. This time, he leaves… and does not come back. She makes sure too, waiting where she is atop her perch, watching as he descends the stairs this time, and doesn’t just immediately return to her room. Quite the odd one… and yet, she’d taken him into her service all the same, hadn’t she?
 
For a moment, Ranni wonders if she has possibly been tricked after all. No… no, tis not possible. She goes into this with her singular eye wide open, well aware of the Tarnished’s goals. After all, his true purpose, his true mistress… is but a fragment of herself.
 
The one who calls herself Melina, does in fact come from Ranni. Not Ranni as she is now, not the Witch, but the Lunar Princess. The Night of the Black Knives, where Godwyn was slain and Ranni sacrificed her Empyrean flesh, casting it aside, had not been without its consequences, just as she had known it wouldn’t be.
 
Still, even she hadn’t expected Marika to do what she had with the fragment of Ranni that cared. Twas from that, that Melina the kindling maiden, burning and bodiless, was made. The part of her that felt guilt and satisfaction alike over her half-brother Godwyn’s death, the part that cared about the Golden Order and the Elden Ring… that was the part of her that Marika had used to birth Melina.
 
Some might call Melina her other half, but Ranni did not think herself arrogant for scoffing at such a claim. Other ‘half’? That implied that she and the kindling maiden were equal. They were not. Melina’s purpose was to burn. Always had been, always would be. Not even the Tarnished could stop that. But Ranni… Ranni had greater intentions.
 
Alas, she had not been lying to the Tarnished, when she said she would enter her slumber, soon enough. As he moves to speak with her three agents, two of them steadfast and loyal and one of them useful for all that he was a slimy snake, Ranni’s eye begins to drift shut, her doll body starting to shut down.
 
Twould be quite the treat, if she were to awaken to news of the Tarnished and Blaidd’s success. But Ranni would not hope too strongly. She had long since learned not to expect much from others, nor from the world as a whole.

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