Maidenless No Longer (Elden Ring)

Latenna the Albinauric was dying. There was no helping that. And quite frankly, she was almost glad for it. After all, her better half had already passed. Slain by that bastard with a poison arrow. Lobo had managed to carry her this far, to the shack on the cliffside, but no further. Her brave, wonderful companion had finally fallen, and with him gone, any hope of survival had left her.
 
The Albinauric was weary to her very core. Her bones felt like lead. Her soul felt like it was screaming and crying and raging continuously. And yet… she sat there, listless and silent, preferring not to say a word. Maybe… maybe if Lobo were still with her. But no.
 
How had it come to this? No, that was a foolish, naïve question. Latenna knew how it had come to this. Greed. Greed and envy had been her people’s downfall. The Village of the Albinaurics, others had called their settlement. To them though… it was just the Village. The Village was where they’d gone to be safe from the dangers of the Lands Between. The Village was their attempt at banding together against the horrors that awaited them elsewhere.
 
Despite sharing the same name among the peoples of the Lands Between, first generation and second generation Albinaurics had very little in common. The second generation… they were less intelligent, and much more aggressive. And yet… and yet, there was a kinship there. Or so Latenna liked to imagine. Certainly, twas not the second generation that had done her people in.
 
No, that was the cursemongers. Monsters one and all, they had come upon the Village in the night. Not that it would have mattered anyways. The Village already existed in the dark undercroft of Liurnia’s southern mountain range. They lived in darkness, had adapted to it, had made it their own. The Perfumers and the Omenkiller and the other cursemongers had come with fire and light and blades and axes, eager to burn and spill blood alike.
 
And yet… they were just the weapon. An arrow, loosed from a bow drawn from afar. Latenna’s eyes close shut, as she finds herself remembering that night. If not for old Albus warning her to flee, she knows not what would have happened to her. But then, perhaps it would have been a better fate than this. Wasting away, waiting to die like her Lobo had died… tch.
 
That night is etched into her memory. The attack had begun, and Latenna had raced to her people’s defense. Or she’d tried to, anyways. Old Albus had stopped her, had told her that she, upon Lobo’s back, had the best chance of escaping the fighting. He’d begged her to go and Latenna, in her moment of weakness… had acquiesced.
 
He had been like a father to her, old Albus. Practically raised her, even as she’d grown old enough that her legs gave out on her, as they did for so many of the first generation Albinaurics. Still, her skills as a hunter had not relied upon the use of her legs, so long as she had her beast companion to carry her on her hunts. Her great wolf Lobo was always there, to act as her legs, to bring her where she needed to go.
 
Twas on his back that she had fled that night. And it was just as old Albus had said. They’d slipped the cursemongers’ net, escaping them entirely. For a moment, even with the sounds of screaming and the roaring of flames sounding behind her as they’d fled, it had almost seemed like she and Lobo were going to make it out. Latenna had allowed herself to feel a tinge of hope.
 
And then an arrow had lanced out of the dark, not from the direction of the Village and the cursemongers attacking it, but from somewhere else. Lobo’s sharp yip as the arrow dug into his haunch had torn Latenna’s soul in two, even as she’d urged him onward. They’d been forced to veer towards the Crystal Cave, retreating into it to try and shake their pursuit.
 
Making their way to the cliffside shack had been Latenna’s attempt at getting them a place to regroup. And Lobo, faithful companion that he was, had carried her all the way there… before collapsing. Only then, had Latenna realized the terrible truth. It was not that only one single arrow had managed to catch them as they fled. It was that only the one arrow was needed… for it was tipped in poison, a powerful toxin that had felled her trusted companion, her better half.
 
She couldn’t save Lobo. He was already on his last legs, when they were found by the true mastermind behind the destruction of the Village. Someone that even Latenna knew of, if only in passing. Sir Gideon Ofnir the All-Knowing, leader of the Roundtable Hold, said in some circles to be first among the Tarnished. For all his knowledge, however, he had depressingly little to show for it, didn’t he? Not a single Great Rune to his name, in spite of all of his time in the Lands Between…
 
Which was exactly why he’d come to the Village. Why he’d pointed the cursemongers towards her people. He wanted the Haligtree. He wanted their Promised Land.
 
Latenna had, at first, taken great satisfaction in spitting the truth in his face. That she did not have the medallion he sought on her person. Sir Gideon had been so certain that her departure from the Village had been because they were smuggling out their most sacred artifacts, but she had nothing, and he soon came to realize that.
 
She had not been nearly as satisfied when next she had to reject him, after he tried the carrot to go along with the stick. Offering her an antidote to the poison coursing through her beloved beast companion’s veins. He was offering to save her Lobo in exchange for information… and yet, Latenna saw it for the trap it was. She saw it for the lie it was. She saw through him… and gave him nothing.
 
Needless to say, she’d expected him to kill her right then and there. A great fury had risen up within Sir Ofnir, but just as quickly as it grew, it became hardened and condensed, a cold and icy thing. Through the slits in his helm, he had looked down upon her… and condemned her to this death. Slow and agonizing, waiting for the end to come because she could do nothing else, laid out beside the soon-to-be corpse of her great wolf as she was.
 
With legs that did not work, and no beast to ride, Latenna was indeed crippled and helpless, unable to so much as fend for herself in these dangerous lands. Sir Gideon was right. He did not have to kill her. He could let the Lands Between do it for him. Or… force her to do the deed herself.
 
She WAS tempted, admittedly. As she lays there, her legs useless beneath her, running a hand through the fur of her dead better half, Latenna considers taking one of the arrows from the quiver on her back and using it to slit her own throat. She does not, however. She cannot say why. Perhaps she is a coward. Perhaps she simply can’t give up hope.
 
Hah, what a lark. What hope is there? What could possibly happen now to turn things around?
 
The sudden sound of boots crunching against the dirt and rock at the exit of the Crystal Cave she and Lobo had fled through causes Latenna to tense up… for but a moment, before she relaxes all the same. The man who steps out onto the grass is in no way comforting or friendly-looking. No, he looks to be quite the warrior in his own right, with blood across his front from the battles he had won in order to get here.
 
Not his blood, Latenna immediately notes with her hunter’s eyes. The blood of his enemies. This man… this man is Tarnished. She can tell that much, at least. Had Sir Ofnir sent him to interrogate her some more? Or to finish her off? Either way, she gained nothing by being polite at this late stage in her life. And by being rude, perhaps it would all end a bit sooner…
 
“Foul Tarnished. What do you want?”
 
The Tarnished is silent, as he comes to a stop in front of her, sheathing his weapon and looking down at her almost… pityingly. She hates that look in his eye. Where does he get off, trying to act like the honorable sort now? She knows what his kind are truly like. She knows that an Albinauric such as herself is nothing to him.
 
“I told the all-hearing brute that I do not possess the medallion he seeks. My answers to his questions remain the same.”
 
A thought hits her, and she stiffens up a bit. There was a reason that she’d fled, when old Albus had bid her to, and not just because she had the best chance of escape, nor because she was a coward at heart. She’d fled… she’d fled because she was beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful Albinauric in the Village, Latenna had been turning heads for a long time. Only Lobo kept the courting attempts mostly at bay. Her great wolf was a diligent gatekeeper, and none of her fellow Villagers met her exacting standards.
 
There were some among them, spurned and spiteful, who spread nasty rumors about her laying with her wolf, just because she did not show interest in them sexually. But Latenna had ignored such things, and the Village at large did the same, treating such rumors as the hearsay they were. She and Lobo brought valuable resources to the Village with their hunting and were thus above such base contempt. Or… they had been.
 
Regardless, Latenna was aware of how beautiful she was. And she was aware of what monsters in human skin would do to a helpless, crippled woman of attractive appearance such as her. Was that why this Tarnished had returned here, after the All-Knowing left her here to die slowly? Had he been directed here, to make her end all the more painful by… by…
 
“Have you come to take more from me, Tarnished? More than the all-hearing brute already took? Was my other half not enough?”
 
Not just her companion, but her dignity as well? Well, she wouldn’t make it easy on him. Even as the silent Tarnished slowly descends to his knees before her, Latenna tenses, preparing to pull an arrow from her quiver and attempt to stick it in his eye in one smooth motion.
 
However, he stops just out of reach, and she is forced to wait and watch as he instead reaches to his belt… and pulls out something wrapped. Latenna furrows her brow, and watches as he unwraps the object and shows it to her. Upon seeing what it is, her eyes widen in disbelief.
 
“Oh…”
 
He’d only shown it to her once, old Albus. The right half of the medallion that Sir Ofnir had sought. In chasing her out of the Village, in focusing his efforts on hunting her down… Latenna had held out hope that old Albus had managed to hide away or escape, that he had kept the medallion hidden.
 
For a long moment, she wonders if perhaps this Tarnished pried the medallion piece from Albus’ cold dead corpse. But… no. No, she doesn’t think so. Albus was always the clever sort. Always a tricky individual. She could believe that he had survived the slaughter of their Village. If the Tarnished had this medallion… twas because old Albus wanted him to have it.
 
“So then. He entrusted his medallion to you, did he?”
 
The Tarnished solemnly nods, and in him, Latenna begins to see something unexpected. Kindness. Chivalry. Morality. She had not thought it possible, and yet… this Tarnished was different, wasn’t he? Her breath hitches, as she considers what to do.
 
The man before her has half of the medallion. Half of what is needed to open the way to the Albinauric’s Promised Land, to the Haligtree. If he truly is a good man, then maybe…
 
“I’ve no choice, it would seem, but to trust that this was his dying will.”
 
Letting out a shuddering breath, Latenna tries for a smile. She knows it doesn’t reach her eyes when the Tarnished reaches forward and lays a comforting hand of all things upon her shoulder. The act of kindness makes her blink, and it takes her another moment to get her thoughts in order… and to swallow past the lump in her throat.
 
“Let’s try again, shall we? I am Latenna. An Albinauric, the same as Old Albus.”
 
Her smile turns crooked, as she looks at this new Tarnished… at their potential savior.
 
“My apologies for my coarse words, before. I presumed the worst, seeing that you were another Tarnished, like the all-hearing brute. Please, forgive me.”
 
Shaking his head solemnly, the Tarnished doesn’t just forgive her… he leans forward, and Latenna’s eyes widen as he pulls her into a strong, warm hug. Her mouth opens but no sound comes out, as he just holds her… and she in turn lets herself be held for a second. It does not help her efforts to keep the tears from falling, if she’s being honest. But at the same time, she’s cried a lot before now. She barely has any tears left to give.
 
Still, her voice is choked up, when they pull apart a moment later.
 
“Mm… the medallion is better off in your hands, anyway. But… if it pleases you, Tarnished… w-would you consider doing me a great service?”
 
He immediately smiles and nods, and Latenna is taken aback by how easy it is to believe him. His earnest, blatant honesty is a sight to behold. For the first time since she lost Lobo, a laugh is startled from her lips.
 
“I haven’t even told you what it is yet!”
 
But the Tarnished just takes her hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of them, and looks her in the eye. He’s listening… but she knows in that moment, he will do whatever he asks of her. Which… which is good. Lobo is gone. She’ll need a strong pair of legs, to carry her where she goes.
 
“I must go back, Tarnished. There is something that I must do, even if I must say farewell to my wolf, Lobo. Will you take me, Tarnished? To the land of Miquella’s Haligtree?”
 
Worried that he might rethink his advance agreement, Latenna is quick to highlight her usefulness.
 
“If you accept, I would gladly apprise you of the whereabouts of the medallion’s other half.”
 
He nods again, not even remotely put off by her request. Letting out another shuddering breath, Latenna lowers her head for a moment before raising it to once more meet the Tarnished’s eyes.
 
“Thank you kindly. They say the other half of the medallion is beyond the forbidden lands, north of the Erdtree. In Castle Sol, on the Mountaintops of the Giants, accessible by the Grand Lift of Rold.”
 
The Tarnished nods, taking in this information almost like he already knew it. Rather, he’s looking at her with a sorrow in his gaze. As if he already knows the next part as well. As if he knows already… that she cannot be saved. Not as she is now. Not in this form. Lobo is dead, and she is dying. Best to hasten the process, instead of letting it be drawn out. And besides… she finally has a reason to continue on, even after death.
 
“… I suppose this is it then. Farewell, Lobo. My faithful wolf, my better half. I go with the Tarnished now… so that our journey will not have been in vain.”
 
And with those final parting words, and one last stroke of her great wolf’s fur, Latenna lets go of her corporeal form. Tis easy, in all honesty. The Albinaurics have always had a somewhat… divorced relationship, with their flesh and blood bodies. Prone to failure, prone to weakness and frailty, some would even say they were never truly meant to exist in the flesh for as long as they did.
 
Better to be as she was now, a new set of Spirit Ashes, joining a… very, VERY large collection within this Tarnished’s purview. VERY large. Latenna can only blink, as she feels herself slotting into the Tarnished’s coterie with ease, almost as if there had already been a place for her there. But that didn’t make sense, right?
 
Well, no matter. She and the Tarnished had an accord now. As such, she whispers into his ear, before falling silent.
 
“Call upon me when needed, and I will fight by your side.”
 
The Tarnished nods, and with one last regretful look to Lobo’s body, turns and begins the trek back through the crystal cave. Latenna just hums, content and satisfied and for the first time in a long time… hopeful.

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