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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and all rights for characters, plots and settings belong to G.R.R. Martin and FromSoftware. I have no ownership.
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"I am no maester to quote history at you, Your Grace. Swords have been my life, not books. But every child knows that the Targaryens have always danced too close to madness. Your father was not the first. King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air, and the world holds its breath to see how it will land."
Ser Barristan "the Bold" Selmy
"The 'dragon spawn' were famous for losing their minds. It was the price they paid for centuries of keeping the bloodlines pure."
Robert "the Fat King" Baratheon
In times past, every single person who attempted to control the flame of frenzy succumbed to madness after a desperate internal struggle.
If you intend to claim the Frenzied Flame, I ask that you cease. It is not to be meddled with. It is chaos, devouring life and thought unending.
However ruined this world has become, however mired in torment and despair, life endures. Births continue. There is beauty in that, is there not?
The Lord of Frenzied Flame is no lord at all. When the land they preside over is lifeless.
Melina
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Liurnia,
973 year AS (After Shattering of the Elden Ring)
Aerion
"What the fuck? How many more of these damn creatures inhabit these woods?" he muttered to himself, slicing open another rat, whose eyes practically glowed with the fire of frenzy burning within. "And why are there so many rats here?"
Of course, it wasn't just rats that attacked him, but all manner of creatures, absolutely driven mad by the Frenzied Flame. The rats were irritating, but the biggest problem was the insects.
Unless you've been attacked by a colony of frenzied ants the size of your little finger or a swarm of hornets attacking like a cloud of worms imbued with the flames of chaos, you haven't yet experienced true horror.
For this reason, much of the forest on the plateau was practically burned to the ground, and the village, filled with crazed inhabitants, simply had to be purged with fire of a different kind.
He watched intently as people moved aimlessly between the partially ruined buildings. Inside, it was also full of various animals, which, like humans, watched everything with eyes burning with sickly yellow flames.
He would have to be insane to venture inside, regardless of what valuables might be hidden there, especially since his resistance to the Free Flame, due to his mark, was fragile.
Without hesitation, in a few long strides, he found himself on a rise south of the village, where he prepared to use his incantation with the greatest range of destruction.
A flame glowed above his hand, not sickly yellow like the poor creatures below but in its natural colors, though these still hid traces of divinity.
With training and experience came better control, so he kept the flames condensed in a sphere the size of a human head, which hovered slightly above his hand, absorbing more and more flames.
He hoped that the Flame of the Fell God would be more than enough to burn the place to the ground.
He stretched his hand palm up toward the village below, and the compressed miniature sun hovering above it slowly erupted, accelerating and quivering with the energy within.
The moment it touched the roof of one of the buildings, however, silence descended upon the world, only to be enveloped in flames, and an explosion engulfed not only the village itself but also a large portion of the surrounding forests.
The temperature rose significantly so that the leaves on the trees where the fire hadn't spread began to curl and crumble into dust, and smoke seemed to rise from the branches and trunks.
And though he didn't feel it himself, he felt the air become dry and difficult to breathe.
Where Frenzied Flame Village stood, a crater lay, partially covered in molten rock. Looking at the destruction, even he was terrified by the power of the fire.
It's no wonder Marika declared war on the giant; such power was dangerous in the hands of an enemy, especially when it could, eventually, be used against you.
And while the thought still unsettled him, the Lands Between had changed him enough that perhaps, if he saw fit, he wouldn't hesitate to do the same.
No, there was no point in dwelling on it now, especially since he felt the brand on his chest burning painfully, as if to express his displeasure. Aerion, however, felt only cold satisfaction. If this were the last thing he did, he would rid the Lands Between of all traces of that damned Flame.
He looked toward the ruins of Marika's church in the northwest, his next destination. There, he would find the Site of Grace and then focus on cleansing these areas of all creatures tainted by the flames of chaos. Only then would he be able to move west.
Summoning Torrent, he jumped onto its back and, descending the hill, directed it towards the ruins, avoiding, however, a large, burnt crater several hundred meters in diameter.
Steering Torrent in the right direction and looking at the destruction he had wrought, he was once again reminded of how much he had changed.
Not so long ago, he had not only been an ordinary man, stabbed to death by the hands of a few cold and underfed men, but now he held in his hands a power more akin to gods than even the heroes of legend.
This strength, this power, had changed something within him, along with the experiences he had acquired in this place where it was often necessary to lock away one's heart and conscience and act on instinct and pragmatism.
He saw the danger in this; he would have to be blind not to, but then again, that was what power was all about: finding the right balance. And no one said it was easy.
Every decision had its consequences, which led to further consequences; each one could benefit some and harm others.
Not to mention how he was torn internally between his own world and this one, and each of them needed him.
He didn't know how long he would have to spend here before Greater Will allowed him to return to Westeros, and he thought that he had left things there in utter chaos and that all he could count on was the competence of the people he trusted.
He didn't push Torrent to a gallop, wanting to give himself time to think, but even so, perhaps half an hour later they found themselves a few hundred meters from the ruins of Marika's church.
Then he felt Torrent begin to slow, his steps becoming uncertain, as if he sensed something ahead that terrified even the brave steed.
Understanding that Torrent had so far shown only one fear—the Frenzied Flame, but only when its presence was strong - Aerion looked around for any threat but initially saw nothing.
However, when a moment later his own senses began to sense an unspecified threat, his gaze fell on the entrance to the ruins of a church in the distance, where a figure appeared.
From the silhouette, Aerion could tell it was a man clad in charred knightly armor, bearing signs of scorching and melting. The man's face was obscured by an equally melted helmet.
In his right hand, he held a spear, its triangular blade heavily warped and singed with a dark, reddish-burnt metallic texture. The weapon had a foreboding appearance, but this vanished next to the man himself, who emanated an almost familiar aura.
The man was engulfed by the fire of chaos, but not in the same way as, say, the rest of the villagers or the animals around it. No, where they had been merely touched, he seemed completely filled with the Flame of Frenzy.
Before Aerion realized it, Torrent beneath him dissolved into blue particles, and he landed on his feet.
This opponent gave him an extremely foreboding feeling and radiated pure danger. For the first time since arriving in Liurnia, Aerion decided not to risk it and summoned his Spirit Ashes to aid him, but despite shaking the bell vigorously, none of them responded to the challenge.
A blue mist appeared briefly but then dissipated like smoke in the wind.
"Not only Torrent, but you too..." he whispered to himself, frowning thoughtfully. Was the flame of chaos so terrifying that even spirits who, once defeated, returned feared it?
Aerion knew this one was dangerous, like anything coming from the Outer God, but perhaps he needed to reassess him.
"Well, there's no point in postponing the inevitable." He sighed, then moved toward the figure, who, instead of rushing toward him, stopped in its tracks.
A Dragon Communion Seal appeared in Aerion's left hand, and a Grafted Blade Greatsword, held easily in his right, appeared.
He stopped several meters in front of the man, who remained motionless, waiting, though the presence of the Frenzied Flame emanating from him was overwhelming, and the mark on Aerion's chest burned with such intensity that it was difficult for him to concentrate.
"YOU RESIST THE INEVITABLE." A voice came from the man, a voice that couldn't possibly belong to any human.
There was something ancient about it, something heavy that pressed upon Aerion's mind and soul with immense intensity.
The world around him seemed to still as if afraid of what the voice represented or who it belonged to. Even the wind died down, and the rays streaming from the Erdtree seemed to lose their brilliance, making everything darker and more gloomy.
"DO YOU NOT SEE THE STATE THIS WORLD HAS FALLEN TO? THE CORRUPTION? THE DESTRUCTION? CAN'T YOU SEE HOW EVERYTHING AROUND YOU SUFFER?"
Aerion frowned. Was this thing, the Outer God, or something representing him, trying to resonate with him? To convince him of its point? But he remained silent, unsure of how to respond.
"DEEP INSIDE, YOU KNOW PERFECTLY THAT I'M RIGHT. THAT THIS WORLD NEEDS A NEW BEGINNING... BUT FIRST MUST COME... PURIFICATION."
Aerion raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Is that how you're going to convince me? That to build something anew, you have to burn the entire world to the ground? Do you think I'm a fool?" he asked, his voice rising slightly, a hint of irritation creeping into it.
"I'm the type of person who, when something breaks, tries to fix it, instead of throwing it away and getting a new one."
"DON'T YOU SEE THAT? THERE IS NOTHING HERE THAT CAN BE REPAIRED. THIS PLACE AND ITS INHABITANTS DESERVE PEACE, AND THEIR ASHES WILL BE USED TO FERTILIZE THE SOIL ON WHICH A NEW WORLD WILL BE BUILT."
Disregarding the fact that he likely stood in the presence of a god, Aerion laughed bitterly and looked at the deity in the puppet's body with contempt.
"And what do you know of rebuilding when all you do is destroy? Your foul flames have been with me since you marked me, and I can say with absolute certainty that there is nothing in them that can contribute to building."
The being before him fell silent for a moment after these words, but when it spoke again in its ancient and mountain-shaking voice, he sensed a distinct irritation.
"YOU SEE ONLY A FRAGMENT OF THE WHOLE PICTURE, LIKE A FOOL WHO LOOKS AT THE STARS AND THINKS HE KNOWS WHAT IS AMONG THEM."
"YOU DO NOT SEE WHAT I OFFER YOU. I WILL CLEAR THIS WORLD OF CORRUPTION AND ALL DESPAIR, AND YOU... YOU WILL REBUILD IT!"
Aerion, however, had no intention of continuing this conversation, especially since the longer it went on, the more unbearable the pain caused by the mark on his chest became and the more his mind dulled.
Lightning bolts danced around his left hand, holding the Seal, and then, without hesitation, he raised his hand, casting an incantation.
A moment later, a golden bolt of lightning struck from the sky at the man standing before him, controlled by the Frenzied Flame, followed by another, and another, as Aerion continued to cast the incantation.
A monstrous roar, more of frustration than pain, erupted from his opponent's mouth.
"AAARRRRGGHHH!!! YOU BLIND FOOL!!!"
Then, a barrier of sickly yellow flames enveloped the man, absorbing the golden bolts. Then, like a beam of water shot by Giant Craywish, the same flames shot towards him, but Aerion deftly dodged them.
The first attack was followed by others, and he tried to gain distance while dodging them, as the mere sight of those damned flames in such abundance made him feel nauseous.
Realizing he had to fight at range while finding a way to break through this barrier of flames, the Carian Glintblade Staff appeared in his right hand.
With his left hand, he continued to cast the Lightning Bolt incantation, while with a swing of the staff held in his right, he summoned a crown of blue blades surrounding him above his head.
He then attempted to cast every possible ranged spell he knew, but they were absorbed by the barrier of Frenzied Flames.
However, Aerion noticed that with each attack, the barrier grew slightly smaller, as if its resources were not infinite. Evading subsequent attacks and using the surroundings, such as boulders and trees, to absorb some of the attacks, he continued to attack.
Seeing the moment, however, he changed his tactics. He transferred the Dragon Communion Seal to his right hand and began preparing to cast the Knight Lightning Spear, his most destructive spell against a single opponent.
Sending his most powerful, fully charged lightning spear towards his opponent, he watched as it penetrated the weakened barrier and struck his opponent's torso.
The Freznzied Flames suddenly extinguished as if blown away, and the body of his nameless opponent fell to the ground with a massive hole in its chest.
Wasteless, Aerion leaped in a few leaps towards the figure, who, despite the lack of a heart and lungs, was still alive, albeit barely. Not wanting to risk something like Winterfell, he brought Godrick's Axe to his right hand and swung it without hesitation, decapitating his opponent, effectively taking his life.
Breathing heavily and feeling a massive headache from exposure to the Frenzied Flame and the sheer number of spells and incantations cast in a short time, he straightened, looking down at the lifeless body at his feet.
He had no idea who this man was, but for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he would have ended up the same way by accepting this particular Outer God's deal.
He doubted the fate the other gods offered was any different, even Greater Will, who had left him with even a modicum of choice, even though he had been forcibly taken from his world and left with two choices.
Go mad from constant dying, or survive, grow stronger, and reach the place. Greater Will wanted to lead him to.
Sighing, he lumbered toward the entrance to the ruined church, but he had taken perhaps a dozen steps when two things happened.
First, his befuddled mind realized he hadn't received any runes or any notification of the enemy's defeat. Second, a splitting headache accompanied by a feeling as if his chest were burning alive. The pain was excruciating.
He staggered forward, falling to the ground, but immediately tried to get back up. He finally reached the walls of a ruined church. Then, bracing himself and clenching the Dragon Communion Seal in his right hand, he struggled to regain control, knowing that if he wanted to survive, he had to fight this. He barely cast the only incantation that could save him at that moment.
A soothing warmth flowed from his left eye, from the fragment of the Elden Ring, giving him enough clarity to focus.
Swaying, he assumed a suitable, though not ideal, pose and cast the Law of Regression, granted to him by Greater Will for defeating the Chaos Flamespawn at Winterfell.
He felt all the pain, fatigue, and burning fire in his chest vanish as if they had never been, his mind becoming clear again and his body fully functional.
Only now could he look back at where his opponent should have been. However, as soon as he turned, he immediately regretted it.
About thirty meters away stood the headless body of a knight, arms outstretched. And at that very moment, something began to emerge where the head had been.
First, a small flame flared, which a moment later swelled into a massive ball of fire, with a black center and yellow flames of varying shades surrounding it, the whole thing resembling a giant, burning eye replacing the head.
"YOU DID NOT THINK YOU'D ESCAPE ME SO EASILY! I HAVE CHOSEN YOU AS MY LORD, AND SO IT SHALL BE! BEHOLD A SMALL FRAGMENT OF THE POWER I OFFER YOU!!!"
Frenzied Flame's voice rose with even greater intensity than before, and if it weren't for the fragment of the Elden Ring glowing with inner warmth in his eye, this time it might have been too much for him. For it felt as if something were trying to batter down the door to his mind.
Without hesitation, Aerion realized he had to create distance between them, for how could he fight something that refused to stay dead?
The Flame of the Fell God flared in his hand, but from the terrifying being's essence came only a mad laugh, piercing him like a thousand daggers.
"HHHAAAAHAH!!! DO YOU TRULY BELIEVE THAT THIS SMALL FLAME OF A LONG-OVERTHROWN GOD CAN HELP YOU IN ANY WAY? I AM ETERNAL AND INEVITABLE!!!"
Although Aerion felt terror welling up inside him, he felt the Elden Ring respond even more strongly to the threat, and the warmth spreading from his left eye throughout his body cleansed his mind.
Moreover, the warmth spreading within him began to flow into his right hand, and the fire burning within it began to feed on it hungrily, growing stronger and turning a bright yellow, almost white.
Seeing this, the being extended its hand toward him, saying, "MY LITTLE LORD. YOUR RESISTANCE IS SENSELESS. ONLY INDESCRIBABLE SUFFERING AWAITS YOU, WHICH YOU CAN AVOID... SERVE ME."
Aerion, however, knew he would rather die than willingly submit to this being and condemn everything to its flames. Just by seeing Torrent's reaction, he knew he would never serve something that terrified even spirits.
He thrust his hand, holding a glowing ball of bright fire, toward this avatar of Frenzied Flame, and at the same moment, his opponent unleashed a massive wave of chaos flames, which voraciously devoured everything in their path.
Aerion desperately rushed to the ruined church, and the two flames collided in the center, and the world stopped for a moment. For a moment, they remained at an impasse, but only long enough for Aerion to take a few more steps.
Then there was an explosion. He felt something strike him from behind with tremendous force, knocking the air from his lungs, and then slammed into the opposite wall of the ruins, smashing through and traveling another few hundred meters, realizing he was falling from the heights they were on and hitting the ground below with tremendous force.
He held his mind awake with the last of his strength, but he felt life draining from it. Every bone in his body was probably broken, and his head felt as if it were split in half.
Although his eyes seemed wide open, all he saw was darkness in one and a hazy golden glow in the other. He felt that only the fragment of the Elden Ring he possessed kept him alive, but barely.
With difficulty, he lifted his shattered, broken arm slightly, summoning the Flask of Crimson Tears to his lips, but there was no way he could bring it to his mouth, let alone attempt to uncork it.
His hand fell to the ground, and the flask fell from his grasp, rolling across the ground.
He lay there, for some unknown reason, on the brink of death, waiting for it or for the Frenzied Flame to complete its work when he thought he heard footsteps, though he couldn't be sure, for his ears, slowly healing by the Great Rune of Life, might still be inoperable.
He felt someone lean over him, and then a muffled female voice reached him. "Flask of Crimson Tears? Hmh. I haven't seen that relic since Shattering."
Then he felt something touch his lips, and then some liquid flow through them and down his throat. Almost immediately, he felt the elixir's miraculous power, further enhanced by his Great Runes.
His bones began to heal, his torn muscles fused, and his fractured skull healed. The fatigue began to subside, mostly, but not completely, and his mind became clear again.
His eyes also regenerated—or rather, he should say his right eye, for only that could have been damaged.
With difficulty, he pushed himself into a sitting position and turned his face to the right, where he saw an extremely tall woman crouched beside him, clad in armor and a helmet obscuring the upper half of her face, from beneath which flowed a cascade of crimson hair.
The woman's perfectly visible red lips twisted into a delicate smirk, and she said, "So what do we have here?"