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The night passed after what had felt like an eternity, at least the first several hours had. Bored out of his very soul, the unkindled one spent a majority of the night toying with his scroll. True, he spent long hours messing with it before, but even now he never accomplished much... as seen by his hordes of missed messages.

The device was still largely foreign to the man, and though it was sturdy, he always held a small fear that the electronics would easily shatter within his grasp. Thankfully though, he was always proven wrong. He only had the device for less than a week, yet it had already braved an incredible amount of accidental abuse already.

His constant dropping, rolling on, brushing his blades against the screen, hammering during the rare moments he typed, and so forth... It mattered little. It seemed as if nothing could put a dent in the device.

Truthfully, the champion marveled at the misleadingly sturdy item's tenacity. "Asche" wondered if had the object been sentient, his scroll could also take on the many god-like beings of Lothric as he had. He mused this idea for a painfully long time, quietly laughing at the thought of his scroll wearing a miniaturized suit of armor. The amusement grew when the masked boy thought over a scene of the scroll swinging an incredibly ineffective sword and shield at the small crabs of The Crucifixion Forest.

But before he could further ponder over how exactly the scroll would even hold those such items, his team began to stir in their sleep. His savored hours of solitude came to a closure. In less than an hour, each member had risen, dressed, and ate a small meal together.

Dove, thankfully, was elected to cook this time. As he seared preserved tomatoes over the rekindled bonfire, he glared at the unkindled one. No matter how insistent he was to improve his cooking, C_DL held the masked boy at bay.

Once done, the group re-briefed each other over their current location. Their goal was only a few hours away, by their estimates at least. With any luck, they could find what they had come for, mourn, bury the assumed dead, and return home with proper closure. Though, for a particular member, Cardin wished the team would find nothing at all...

...

...

...

The shriek of splitting air filled the riverbank, only faintly sounding over the running water below. An onyx-tinted arrow flew forward, in the midst of a raging pursuit for its master's target. With a dull thwap, the shaft and arrowhead buried themself within the beast's hide.

A beowolf screeched in pain, yelling abruptly at the projectile now pierced through its neck. Like several other Grimm corpses, it then fell over dead, dissipating as expected.

In the distance, a familiar band of knight-themed boys stood. One, "Asche'', held his "Black Bow of Pharis" in hand, reaching for an arrow he had docked within the soft soil below. He, alongside his seated companion, strained their eyes to admire the man's accuracy. "Asche" gave a nod of the head to himself, confirming he had hit his mark with the last shot before nocking another arrow.

Cardin was the compeer who sat on the soil, tilting his head to the side as he ate from a travel-sized bag of dried fruits and nuts. "Eh, the last one was flashier. I give it a six." He shrugged, clicking his tongue.

Sky Lark and Dove Bronzewing, however, were separated from the other two. Sky held a map in hand, squinting over as he confirmed which way they would travel as he waited for "Asche" to finish clearing the path ahead. Dove meanwhile, looked over Sky's shoulder, pointing to several sketched landmarks whilst he made conversation.

"Oh wow, really? And that's the cave, right?" He asked. "I think you mentioned the patch is right on top of it. Like, a small clearing and then the sudden drop into the ravine?"

"Yes... That's the uh, place Cardin was, erm, Talking about. The drop is a hundred paces away." Sky murmured as the snapping of a bowstring and an accompanying whistling was heard. "The cliffside is covered by the brush though, so be careful."

"Gotcha. What do you think we'll do when we...well, you know?" Dove questioned in a hushed voice.

"Hey, that was right in its socket. I'll give it a seven." Cardin said in the distance.

"What anyone should do... we'll lay them to rest." Sky muttered.

"Red-colored arrows this time? Are they special or something?" CEDL's leader commented from the background.

Sky and Dove turned their attention to the distant horde of beasts, being greeted by a scattered mound of dissipating Beowolves. Two of the beasts' corpses were ignited, enveloped by a scorching flame. Dove warily glanced at the champion, who was in the midst of collecting several unused arrows. Sky was completely unfazed, collecting his gear to reunite with his other two teammates.

"When did... Who started that?" He cautiously began.

"Asche did it." Cardin shot, pointing an accusing finger at the man responsible in between his chewing.

"Asche" reared his head, glancing at the accusing digit. As he tucked away the last remaining arrow, he glanced over his own shoulder, assuming Cardin had been blaming another particular CEDL member. Until it dawned on him that Cardin Winchester, his dear leader, had sold him out.

The unkindled one cleared his throat, the best he could at least, simultaneously straightening his slouching posture. He placed an armored hand on his hip, the other cupping the area where his mouth was concealed. CEDL's resident mute then shuffled his feet mustering just enough dignity to sheepishly shrug.

"Yeah, Jaune said he was. uhm. also using some ah, "pre-great war" throw-blasts during initiation too." Sky announced.

"Tch, that Jaune Arc kid is all talk." Cardin absently commented, flinching at the champion's routine flicking, which caused the boy to drop several of the peanuts. "Ow ow ow.... I'm just saying, I mean... his transcripts said he'd have more grit."

" "Throw-Blasts"? You mean Fire Bombs, right? Like... those old schooled grenades?" Dove stammered.

"Yep. Sorry Dove, ya always miss it. He shot some kind of white and gold dust-infused ones too." Cardin added, between his snacking. "Lit two of 'em up like a fucking Atlassian Dust Coil."

"Right... because dual-wielding talwars, a multi-shot bow, an energy blasting shotel, and old-era grenades just aren't enough weapons for you." Dove wearily said.

"Hey, hey, hey, watch your tongue..." Cardin mused, waving a crumb-littered hand. "...They're scimitars, not talwars."

And they're called Moonlight Arrows, actually... the ashen one thought.

"Sure, sure, whatever you say Oh Noblest of Leaders... " Dove sarcastically replied as he slung a cumbersome bag over his shoulder. "The way looks clear, think it's safe to move up now?

Cardin begrudgingly rose to his feet, brushing the crumbs and dirt both after he had done so. He, too, threw a bundle of gear over his shoulder. "Yeah, I guess. Can't really get anywhere just sitting around."

The quartet gathered themselves before setting off yet again. Familiarity clouded "Asche's" mind as the trek along the river carried on. It was, of course, the very same river he traversed days prior upon his awakening to this realm. A hymn of crashing water, the silk-like dancing of the river's many fish, and the comforting company alongside gave the champion a feeling of serenity.

He felt warm, listening to their unrelated banter.

For the first time in a literal eternity, The Ashen One felt safe, hidden, and separated from Lothric's dying ages. The cycle of fire escaped his mind, even for that singular moment. As the group departed from the river, trudging through beyond more foliage, the sensation lingered on. His chest felt warm, coddled, and almost relieved of its weight.

At first, he believed it to be the embers that still smoldered deep within his bosom... but no, those were a distinctly different type of warmth. The embers of a champion were not known to be comforting or relieving. They felt steeped in First Kiln's putrid fire, filled with an overbearing sense of unwanted duty, and of course, that near ironic surge of hopelessness from the countless world's past.

A different type of embers, perhaps? This "Remnant's" variant? He pondered.

As he followed behind his team, "Asche" placed a hand to his heart, clutching the dark garb.

Team CEDL marched onward, following the same pattern they always had. Cardin led, Dove, followed behind the lead, keeping an eye cast toward the right side. Sky fell next, vigilante over the team's leftward area. "Asche" came last, frequently glancing over his shoulder, often walking backward once his habitual paranoia seeped through.

The next stretch of land was quiet, uneventful, and lackluster. Before long, the team arrived at their next landmark, a small hollowed grove of a hill. The hill itself was fairly steep, easily towering over a small portion of the lower leveled forest in conjunction with the steadily rising elevation.

Eventually, CEDL came to a distinctly recognizable hill. The unkindled one most of all recognized the scenery, he had been here before, just like the river. This area marked where the man rose to begin anew.

With how far into the largely unmapped forest it was, coupled with the strange route it took to arrive, this area was ventured by few. A location leading to an easily missable opening, to an otherwise uninteresting bluff. A fitting place of origin for a folklore figure in a fable long lost to time.

"Here's the alcove, fellas." Dove began, brushing his way past the rest.

The four stole a glance within the opening of the grotto, peering over the boy's shoulder..

"Asche's" cave of awakening had remained largely the same. The minimalist etching of bonfire from the scorched flowers had been untampered with, no clear sign of dust near the makeshift stone tables. Unlike his previous encounter, however, the petals began to wither. They were still full of life: of course, they were. Yet the occasional missing petal and limping of their stems showed they had already passed their prime beauty.

"Nothing in here boys, let's keep moving," Cardin said, taking a second glance at the burrow's interior as the other three scrambled their way atop the steep hillside.

The tattered blonde pushed his hair aside with a hand before he stood upright. Sky and "Asche" stood close by, offering a hand to their leader. With every member accounted for, CEDL took a gander at the pathway below.

Dove snorted, "Dare me to jump, lads?" He jested, causing the others to snicker.

"Suuure buddy, but I'm not carrying your ass back to the infirmary." Cardin quipped.

"And I'm not helping you get back up here either." Sky added.

"Asche, you'd help a poor, injured, and helpless pal out, right?" Dove sarcastically pleaded.

The ashen one defensively waved a hand, shaking his head in refusal at his one-sided offer. Cardin and Sky meanwhile, both shared a stifled chuckle, coupled with Dove holding a hand to his heart in mocked pain. "You three are a bunch of assholes, you know that, right?" Dove playfully hissed.

"We're all brothers and roommates in shitty binds now, sheath-thief." Cardin dramatically announced, turning on his heels to resume their trek anew.

Dove groaned, rolling his eyes at the near-constant reminder. During yesterday's Combat Class prep, he had misplaced his own sheath. With no other replacement or resort to turn to, he pleaded Cardin to allow him to use a spare. The leader spared mercy on his helpless squadmate, offering an extra with the condition Dove would return it immediately after his match. Dove, surprisingly, held up his end of the arrangement... several hours later.

"Ugh... I told you I only needed to borrow it for Glynda's class. And hey, I gave it back like I said I would, didn't I?" Dove rebutted, jogging to walk alongside his leader.

"Pft, a whole four hours later." CEDL's captain shot back.

"Well, it's not my fault for looking so good in it." Dove countered. "Personally, I blame it on the good genes." He concluded, raising his chin high.

"You could wear a Mistalian kimono and still find a way to fuck it up. Don't flatter yourself."

Like before, the quartet set out, discovering the clearing from "Asche's" photos within only mere seconds. They began walking, glancing at the photos, and scouting the area for an exact match. Their search was largely fruitless. Using the images on "Asche's" scroll, they pinpointed the exact location. Though they stood directly where the photos were captured, they failed to find any trace. They had abandoned hope... mostly. As many groups tend to do when searching for a lost item, they split up, each checking their separate vicinities.

And after an equal amount of time, Dove spoke up, curious as to where a trail of beetles and ants were hurrying off to. He lowered his stance to a near squat, hesitantly tossing a hollowed and shattered branch to the side. From under the brush, he saw a glimmer, likely that of jewelry.

"Hold on a minute, there's something here..." Dove trailed, simultaneously waving the boy's over and causing a surge of unease to swell from Cardin's stomach.

As CE_L rushed over, Dove pushed the foliage aside, causing a swarm of insects to scuttle away in the fear of being discovered. The stench, though sickening and stomach-churning, had been overlooked at the grotesque sight before the boys.

There he was, or at least what had remained of him, rotting within a stowed away gathering of bushes.

Russell Thrush.

His corpse was hauntingly disfigured and grotesquely shriveled. The eyes had been reduced, whether by the glutenous insects or by the strangest stage of decomposition, to empty sockets excreting a dense dark sludge. His skin hung loosely over his bones, wrapping around his body as if the muscle and flesh beneath had been eaten away by unseen creatures. The many orifices to his body dripped with the larvae of maggots, carrion beetles, and all other manner of vermin. His teeth were stained in a dark coat of tarnished sallow, his exposed bones sharing the same color. His torso, though, held a far more sickening sight.

"...in...?"

First, was the gaping crevices of his body. It was plain to see it had been the work of several relentless stab wounds. From their gaps, the four boys could see the shattered bones, almost as if whoever had done this held a brutish and barbaric amount of strength. A hideously shattered dagger had been lodged deep within his once connected ribs as if the attacker had continued his assault well after the weapon and victim's bones both broke.

"...ar...in...?"

And lastly, a sight that confused C_DL, yet struck fear into the Ashen One...

A dark sigil, a mark of an undead. Nothing more than a twisted, spiraled tangle of seemingly scarred flesh leading into the dark pit upon the chest. It had dried with Russel's body, yet the hole remained as if luring one to peer further into its abyss. The boy's very soul and humanity had been seeped dry, along with his flesh.

"...ard...in...?

"Cardin!" Dove shouted, waving a hand in front of his leader's eyes.

Cardin broke from his almost dazed trance.

"Cardin, are you oka-?" He began to say, before being shoved aside by his leader.

"Get the fuck out of my way..." He grunted, marching away from the trio.

Cardin stumbled to another bush, further from the group, doubling over into a series of gagging. His team shared the sentiment, averting their worried eyes. Even though they blocked the view from sight, little was left to the imagination from the violent minutes the other boy spent vomiting. Each time he or the rest of CEDL expected the spewing to halt, a more violent regurgitation than the last rejected that hope.

"Asche" however, bent over the corpse. With a single hand, he brushed the decrepit face, a sign of respect even in the absence of eyes. The stench, fleeting insects, and sludge of decay worried him naught.

Unfortunately, this had not been the first instance of such a scene. The ashen one bore witness to many similar corpses during his journey. Quickly, he had swallowed the unease of horrific scenes, desensitizing himself faster than he would be proud to admit. Unlike those past scenarios though, he felt an obligation to lay the soul of the victim to rest.

The carcass was slung over his shoulder, being carried past his repulsive and sympathetic comrades. Cardin weakly broke his vomiting to see "Asche" haul the remains down the hilltop, his face was pale and scrunched, softening at the sight, though not by much.

Dove and Sky attempted to gather their nauseous leader who, in turn, swatted the still stricken pair away. Cardin would gather himself several minutes later, alone, through his own disheveled merit. Once the trio reached the basin of the hill, where the small cave was, they saw their masked compeer shredding his own sleeping bag into lengthy strips.

At first, they were rightfully upset at the man mangling the fine-quality bedroll. After "Asche" began wrapping the decimated body in the cloth though, they followed in suit, shredding, wrapping, and repeating. Their disgust was swallowed for a moment, figuring they would sanitize themselves afterward anyway. With Russel's body now concealed in the fabric, CEDL set aside the body to begin gathering logs, sticks, and scavenging their emergency fire dust vials.

...

...

...

After several hours of articulate placing and securing the logs in place with spare twining, the boys lifted Russel's body onto the makeshift pyre they had built within the small cave. They then littered the opening with stones, stacking each rock until the makeshift wall stood to their knees, ensuring the burial process would not result in a wildfire from escaping flame.

"Asche" stood aside from the rest with a clear viewpoint of the cave's opening and by extension, the pyre. With a delayed nod from Cardin, the masked hunter then nocked a red-tipped arrow into his bow. His arms rose and his shoulder blade's reared as he took aim. A wisp of steam escaped from under his silver face, slithering into the world around it.

The trail of smoke danced through the clear air, winding and entwining on itself as if partaking in a ballad. The string to the bow strained, creaking in muffled applause. Before the minuscule mist could dance further, the string to the bow was released, cracking like a muffled whip before the arrow's movement caused the air to disperse, along with snuffing out the thread of steam.

In an instance, the fire dust within the cave's pyre ignited, erupting into a near blinding flame. As "Asche" wordlessly stowed away his "Black Bow Of Pharis", the wood, which had been thinly covered in more fuel, then ignited. The inferno grew by the second, spreading like the insects that previously fed on the now scorching corpse.

For two and a half hours, CEDL stood almost shoulder to shoulder; watching the steadily stagnating blaze. From the furthest right, stood Cardin Winchester, followed by "Asche Embers". To his left, with a separating yard of empty space, was Dove Bronzewing. Finally, Sky Lark was positioned alongside Dove, running his sweat-drenched hands together.

They were a group named after an uncommon shade of grey and cyan, a color overlooked more than naught. Beacon's first-year ragtag group with the themes of a knight, a foot soldier, a paladin, and a sentinel. To most, they were a fairly average team with an already exceptional bond, comparatively so. Others, only with a passing glance, saw yet another squad of conflicting personalities, doomed to one day separate from one another.

The boys would have none of that though. They were roommates, classmates, and teammates. They still had four years together, plenty of time to prove those around them wrong. Enough time to carve their name in Beacon history and share many more memories together. But more importantly, above all else....

They were Team Citadel.

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[BONFIRE: LIT]

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||| "Don't You Dare Go Hollow..." |||