Lucian sat silently at the Site of Grace, frowning in confusion.
"Why did Melina suddenly disappear?"
He had meant to ask her how to blow the spectral steedwhistle—it would be embarrassing if he couldn't even summon Torrent. There were other things he needed to clarify too: could he fast travel now? Could he store items at Sites of Grace?
"Melina? Are you still here?"
No response.
"Forget it. I'm sure she has her reasons."
He pulled out one of the Flask of Crimson Tears and gave it a curious look.
"Might as well find out what this tastes like. I can always rest and refill."
Licking his lips, he remembered that despite all the running around and fighting, he hadn't had a proper drink since arriving. He forgot to ask Kale for a waterskin too—though in fairness, he didn't see one on the merchant either. Most people in the Lands Between were already the undead—they didn't eat or drink.
Gulp, gulp... ahhh!
One bottle of Crimson Tears gone in one go. Surprisingly refreshing, like chilled lemon iced tea, bracing and invigorating.
Next he tried the Cerulean Tears.
"Yep, that's it. Classic original iced tea. Miss you, big bro in the cell."
As the sacred flasks refilled slowly at the Grace, Lucian leaned back, deep in thought.
Despite today's victories, he knew his combat skills were lacking. The body he possessed had good stats, but raw numbers would only get him so far.
The Lands Between were far too dangerous.
He couldn't rely on Wind Spirit Moon Shadow's automatic invincibility alone. It only triggered once per encounter unless he activated it manually—and that used up precious charges. Stronger demi-gods and elite foes lay ahead. He had to get better—much better.
He needed a teacher.
The best candidate was the battle-hardened knight Bernahl, who offered powerful Ashes of War. But reaching him was a problem. The roads were swarming with soldiers, and the safer alternative—scaling Stormhill's cliffside using Torrent's spiritwind—meant braving a region teeming with trolls.
But there was another option.
On the Weeping Peninsula lay Castle Morne, ruled by a noble knight of great skill. Not as legendary as Bernahl, but more than enough for Lucian's current needs.
If the game's timeline held, then Morne was likely embroiled in a brutal uprising right now. Misbegotten creatures and loyal soldiers clashed in relentless battles. The misbegotten weren't hard to kill individually—it was the perfect place to grind combat experience.
Besides, a girl awaited him there—Irina, the commander of the castle forces daughter.
As his mind drifted from plans to possibilities, fatigue overwhelmed him. The day's events finally caught up, and sleep claimed him.
Melina sat silently near the Grace, leaning against Torrent's side like a couch. The spectral steed lay calmly, providing her a place to rest.
She had fled in a panic earlier.
In the Lands Between, placing a ring on another's left ring finger was a marriage vow.
She hadn't realized what Lucian was doing until the ring was already on his finger. In her mind, it was just a whistle—something worn on the index finger for ease of use.
But he had calmly slipped it onto his ring finger. And after doing so, smiled gently.
Was that… a proposal?
Or worse—had she proposed to him?
Flustered and embarrassed, Melina had vanished immediately.
Now, watching his confused expression from afar, she began to doubt herself.
Could it be... he doesn't know the symbolism? Was I overreacting?
She shook her head, willing the thoughts away. Now wasn't the time for such things.
She didn't even know if he would follow Grace's guidance. The path to the Erdtree was perilous. If he couldn't—or wouldn't—see it through, she would have to find another way.
Yet…
She looked down at him as he slept curled up like a child.
"This man… such a promise…He vowed he would stand to protect me."
That word—protect—was so distant to her. She couldn't even picture what it meant. She had nothing. Not even a body.
Only a soul, wandering, clinging to a forgotten purpose.
But who wouldn't want to be protected?
She was just a girl too, in the end. A lonely soul hoping for meaning.
Someone had said they'd protect her.
And for the first time, Melina found herself wanting something beyond duty.
A journey not of obligation, but of adventure. A life not just surviving, but living.
But first… she had to see if he was truly the one.
Lucian woke at dawn, feeling refreshed and light. For a moment, he grinned.
"I feel… powerful. Like a beast."
Then he shook his head vigorously.
"Whoa, easy. That's the kind of thinking that gets you killed."
He stood, and the Grace's golden veil dissolved around him. In the distance, soldiers took notice and began rallying.
Lucian didn't panic. Not now.
He raised his left hand and blew hard on the ring-whistle still fitted on his ring finger.
Fweeeeeeeeet!
With a brilliant shimmer, a spectral steed burst forth from thin air—grey-maned, with twin horns. Torrent.
The creature snorted and nuzzled him affectionately.
Lucian laughed and mounted in one smooth motion.
"Let's go, Torrent! Ride like the wind!"
Together they galloped across the fields, charging toward their next adventure.
Unseen to him, in the soul realm behind, Melina sat sideways on Torrent's rear, gazing quietly at the scenery that raced past.
She said nothing, but she smiled.