Gawain did not have to wait long before the gate's lift groaned to a halt. Edgar emerged, leading a contingent of soldiers and mercenaries, having successfully retrieved Irina from outside the walls. The gloom that had clouded the Castellan's face during the siege was gone, replaced by the beaming smile of a relieved father.
After all, when he sent his daughter away, he never expected such a swift reunion—let alone seeing her return unscathed after such peril. It was the greatest comfort he could have asked for.
When Edgar spotted the hero who had saved Castle Morne earlier that day waiting by the gate, he let out a sigh of relief. He had seen the state the man was in when he collapsed; at the time, he thought the warrior was beyond saving. He hadn't expected him to recover so thoroughly in such a short time.
The Castellan moved to offer his thanks in person, but his daughter was faster. Irina released Torrent's reins and lunged forward, throwing her arms around Gawain.
"Uh... Irina? Why are you crying? Calm down, I'm still in one piece," Gawain muttered awkwardly. He held his hands out, unsure of where to put them, and cast a guilty glance toward Edgar, whose expression had turned... subtle. Gawain certainly hadn't planned for things to go this way.
"Do not lie to me," Irina sobbed. "I heard from my father about the state you were in when you collapsed. Your body was covered in festering burns, and black veins were spreading from that ring on your chest. I may be blind, but I can feel it—your fire has been shrouded in a layer of black filth."
Gawain realized there was no point in denying it. Irina's sightless eyes, capable of sensing the essence of fire, were in some ways similar to those of a Fire Keeper. She could see right through the nature of his power.
"I admit, I overextended myself a bit. But the result was worth it. Alright, there are a lot of people watching, let's keep it together."
Irina suddenly realized how improper her behavior was. Her face turned bright red, and like a startled rabbit, she scurried back to her father's side.
Edgar sighed, looking at his daughter. He didn't know what to say, so he stepped forward and gave a deep, respectful bow.
"My daughter was in your care on the road, and so was Castle Morne. Everyone in this city, myself included, owes you their life. I won't waste breath on empty thanks; whatever requirements Castle Morne can satisfy, I will do my best to fulfill them."
Gawain looked at the residents gathering around. He did indeed have things he wanted from the Castellan, but this wasn't the place for that conversation.
"There's no need to be so formal. I simply couldn't stand by and watch the Misbegotten ravage this place. But I do have things to discuss. Can we find somewhere private?"
Edgar nodded. He was personally curious about this unique Tarnished. He instructed Galvin to maintain order in the courtyard and led Gawain toward the ramparts.
Irina wanted to follow, but Edgar caught a subtle look from Gawain and immediately understood.
"Irina, it's late. I had your room cleaned earlier today. Go and rest; we'll talk more tomorrow."
Reluctant but obedient, Irina followed the instructions. Under the protection of a few mercenaries, she returned to her quarters.
Gawain sighed as he watched her leave. He didn't want to keep things from her, but when it came to the Frenzied Flame, he had to handle matters with extreme care.
He turned and patted Torrent's mane. He briefly considered asking Edgar something like, "Hey old man, is it safe to park my horse in your castle?" but decided against it and simply dismissed the steed back into the ring.
It was the first time Edgar had seen a whistle capable of housing a spectral steed—a rare and precious item indeed. His estimation of the man's strength rose yet again. Thinking of the disaster they had just survived, he remained silent as he led the way to the ramparts.
Before long, a campfire was lit on the rampart that had been dark only hours before. Edgar set his Banished Knight's Halberd aside and slumped against the stone wall, finally finding a moment to breathe.
"Thanks to you, the armory is back in our hands. After we rest and resupply tonight, I'll lead the remaining soldiers to sweep the lower castle tomorrow. The Misbegotten have all fled down there."
A look of relief crossed his face. If the sudden rebellion hadn't caught him off guard and locked him out of the armory, things never would have spiraled so far. Now, it was time for his counter-offensive.
But the relief was fleeting. Edgar thought of the enemy that had bested him, and his expression soured.
"I imagine Irina told you already. That cursed Leonine Misbegotten is still entrenched at the burial site at the very bottom. To be honest, I could handle a lone Leonine Misbegotten, but that beast somehow stole the castle's treasure—the Grafted Blade Greatsword. That makes it an enemy I cannot face alone."
"Don't worry," Gawain said. "I'm going down with you tomorrow. Together, that Misbegotten won't stand a chance."
"Then I can rest easy. Forgive me... it is my duty as Castellan, yet I shamelessly ask for the help of an outsider. In exchange, ask whatever you wish. I will tell you everything I know."
Gawain stared into the fire for a moment before bringing up the subject of Irina.
"Did Galvin tell you the identity of the assassins hunting her?"
Edgar nodded grimly. He wasn't ignorant of the factions of the Two Fingers and the Three Fingers, especially now that the Tarnished were returning through the fog and the stalemate of the Shattering was beginning to shift. But even with that knowledge, he had been powerless against the uprising.
"Irina... she houses the Flame of Frenzy within her, doesn't she?"
As if his deepest fear had been touched, Edgar began to tremble. Finally, he gave a forced nod. He knew why his daughter was blind. It was the reason he had kept her secluded for so many years—to prevent her from being used by Frenzied Flame proselytizers.
Gawain recalled the ambush on the road. "I found it strange that night. What could have drawn the Frenzied villagers down from the cliffs? Now it makes sense. They were instinctively drawn to a Finger Maiden of Frenzy."
A complex look passed through Edgar's eyes, ending in a heavy sigh.
"I beg you to keep this a secret. I can take care of her. I will ensure she never harms anyone, and I will never let those madmen touch her."
Gawain saw the guilt and the deep, hidden despair in Edgar's eyes. He realized why Edgar would eventually go mad and succumb to the Frenzy himself in the original timeline—caring for a daughter with the potential of a Frenzy Maiden for so many years without being corrupted was an impossible task.
"As I understand it, the Frenzied Flame usually takes root in the eyes of the desperate. Even if Irina has the innate talent for it, there must have been a specific event that invited the flame in."
Edgar drifted into memory. He remembered when his daughter still had beautiful eyes.
"It was likely her mother's passing. My duties here were demanding, and I often had to travel to Stormveil. Irina was closest to her mother. When her mother died of a sudden illness while Irina was still very young, it broke her. The light in her eyes simply... faded. Until one day, the flame ignited within them. By the time I realized what had happened, it was too late."
His voice was thick with self-loathing.
"If I had been able to set aside my own grief and pay more attention to her, she might never have been haunted by that thing. From that day on, I swore my life would be for her. And yet, I failed her again. If not for your help, I cannot imagine what would have happened to her."
Gawain didn't know how to respond. He hadn't known Irina's backstory before; it made the "Age of Frenzy" ending seem all the more tragic. He felt a surge of sympathy for the shy girl and began calculating how he might help.
His Heal miracles, at their highest level, functioned more like a reversal of time—or rather, they used the nature of the First Flame to warp the laws of the world, rewinding the damage taken by the flesh.
Theoretically, once his stats were high enough, he could restore her sight. But it wasn't that simple.
Even Miquella the Unalloyed had been powerless to fully excise the Scarlet Rot within Malenia. Outer Gods were not easily severed once they had taken root. Even if he fixed her eyes, the Frenzied Flame might just incinerate them again the next second.
He also suspected that the Frenzy had already affected her soul; the blindness was just the physical symptom.
He thought of his Estus Flasks, which could mend the soul. He couldn't do what even Miquella had failed to do, but he might have a clever alternative.
It was a trick he had learned from Ludleth of Courland, the Exile Lord. But given that souls in the Lands Between were fundamentally different from those in Dark Souls, he had no certainty of success. He would need practice before he dared try it on Irina.
"Perhaps," Gawain said, "I have a way to cure Irina's eyes. A permanent cure."
Edgar thought he had misheard. If the Flame of Frenzy were that easy to handle, the nomadic merchants wouldn't be pariahs. But he remembered what Galvin had said about the man's ability to "assimilate" the fire. Hope flickered in his chest.
"Is that true? Tell me what must be done. I will pay any price to see her eyes healed."
Gawain waved him down. "Don't get ahead of yourself. It's just a theory for now. I can't guarantee the success rate. I need to practice the method several times before I risk using it on her."
To Edgar, this caution only made Gawain more believable. This was the proper attitude for dealing with the Flame of Frenzy.
"It is no matter. I know the danger and the tenacity of that flame. If your method is real, Irina and I can wait. We have lived with this for over a decade; what is a little longer?"
He used the wall to pull himself to his feet, looking down at the residents who were still working through the night. Hope had returned to his eyes.
"To me, even a false hope is enough. Whether you succeed or not, I thank you for protecting her. I can feel that she trusts you. For years, she never left the small area around her room, and I never let her experience anything that might trigger the flame. I hope her trust is not misplaced."
Edgar gave a small nod and walked down from the ramparts to prepare for tomorrow's battle.
"To assimilate the Flame of Frenzy without being affected... can you truly do such a thing?"
Melina had appeared on the rampart, her face showing a rare mix of disbelief and anticipation.
Gawain nodded, a small flame igniting in his palm.
"I can. The fire within me is of a higher order than the Frenzy. While my mind is pressured when I touch that pollution, it eventually gets assimilated into my own strength."
He looked at the still-puzzled Melina. He didn't expect her to understand the First Flame immediately.
"You don't need to worry. You saw how I handled those Frenzied villagers after you warned me. I know what I'm doing."
Melina chose to trust him. She nodded, her form vanishing from the ramparts, though her thoughts remained on his words.
In her mind, the fire Gawain wielded was hard to define. It wasn't the Frenzied Flame, nor the Flame of the Fell God, nor the Black Flame of the Godskin Apostles. It was a complex, seemingly contradictory mixture of properties that existed in harmony. It was beyond her understanding. Perhaps this was why Torrent believed he had the potential to be Lord.
He had been patient with her questions, never showing irritation. It made her feel that she was being the untrusting one. Perhaps it was time to take him to the Roundtable Hold.
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