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When Hilda had found the only remaining survivor of the Everlasting Dragons, she had earnestly prayed to it seeking guidance. It had offered her the chance to join in the ranks of its few believers in the covenant of the Path of the Dragon.
She agreed and was given a stone with the engraving of a dragon upon its front. No sooner had she grasped the fist-sized rock than she felt herself begin changing. Her near-Hollow skin began giving way to scales and feathers, replacing the pocked and burnt skin with the beauty of a dragon's hide! Fingers and toes grew claws, her face elongated into a muzzle, and horns sprouted from her skull. She groaned loudly in pained pleasure as she felt power blooming in her near-absent soul!
For the first time in a very long period, Hilda felt something in her cold, dead heart! Could this be the answer to a long-buried hope?
The fire was linked, the soul of another Undead sacrificed to prolong the Age of Fire, the suffering of the world continued for another few centuries before it would dim yet again.
That was how the legend went, Hilda would later find out. Setting the book onto the side-table, she let out a sound she wouldn't have been able to three-hundred years ago: a laugh. She reclined in her royal bed, thinking again back to that fateful night of eternal twilight before she had become the new Lady of Cinder. The flames had seemed to consume her, burning hotter and brighter by the second, but never growing too harsh for her draconic hide. She bathed in it and gloried in the heat, stoking the flames with her passion for the night to end.
And end it did.
She left the Kiln of the First Flame to survey the land. Choosing the chapel of Anor Londo to act as her new home, Hilda had begun renovations. The kingdom she ruled over was without subjects, at first, so she worked alone. That was, until the last of the Everlasting Dragons alighted on her balcony, proclaiming Himself her Guardian. She had no disagreement and knighted him with the blade that she carried throughout her journey.
More came after, swearing themselves into the Path of the Dragon and subjects of Lady Hilda. The land was settled, the curse of the Undead became a memory, and the light returned to the land. As more devotees joined their Lady's Covenant, so too did they become the race of Lady Hilda's choosing, and the land was filled with dragons.
Falling asleep, Hilda moaned in thoughtful accomplishment. Yes, through changing the undead inhabitants into a race of dragons, they had inadvertently broken the curse. They hadn't been turned mortal, but had rather achieved a more-perfect immortality than the hollow not-death that the curse had wrought.
Hilda's last thought before sleeping that night was that she realized her powerful figure seemed to have gained some padding...
Art ©
Azzy Fox
Stone Dragons © Dark Souls
She agreed and was given a stone with the engraving of a dragon upon its front. No sooner had she grasped the fist-sized rock than she felt herself begin changing. Her near-Hollow skin began giving way to scales and feathers, replacing the pocked and burnt skin with the beauty of a dragon's hide! Fingers and toes grew claws, her face elongated into a muzzle, and horns sprouted from her skull. She groaned loudly in pained pleasure as she felt power blooming in her near-absent soul!
For the first time in a very long period, Hilda felt something in her cold, dead heart! Could this be the answer to a long-buried hope?
The fire was linked, the soul of another Undead sacrificed to prolong the Age of Fire, the suffering of the world continued for another few centuries before it would dim yet again.
That was how the legend went, Hilda would later find out. Setting the book onto the side-table, she let out a sound she wouldn't have been able to three-hundred years ago: a laugh. She reclined in her royal bed, thinking again back to that fateful night of eternal twilight before she had become the new Lady of Cinder. The flames had seemed to consume her, burning hotter and brighter by the second, but never growing too harsh for her draconic hide. She bathed in it and gloried in the heat, stoking the flames with her passion for the night to end.
And end it did.
She left the Kiln of the First Flame to survey the land. Choosing the chapel of Anor Londo to act as her new home, Hilda had begun renovations. The kingdom she ruled over was without subjects, at first, so she worked alone. That was, until the last of the Everlasting Dragons alighted on her balcony, proclaiming Himself her Guardian. She had no disagreement and knighted him with the blade that she carried throughout her journey.
More came after, swearing themselves into the Path of the Dragon and subjects of Lady Hilda. The land was settled, the curse of the Undead became a memory, and the light returned to the land. As more devotees joined their Lady's Covenant, so too did they become the race of Lady Hilda's choosing, and the land was filled with dragons.
Falling asleep, Hilda moaned in thoughtful accomplishment. Yes, through changing the undead inhabitants into a race of dragons, they had inadvertently broken the curse. They hadn't been turned mortal, but had rather achieved a more-perfect immortality than the hollow not-death that the curse had wrought.
Hilda's last thought before sleeping that night was that she realized her powerful figure seemed to have gained some padding...
Art ©
Azzy FoxStone Dragons © Dark Souls
Category All / Fanart
Species Western Dragon
Size 800 x 1280px
File Size 69.6 kB
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