The Ashen Keeper

Chapter 58

Yhorm, the lonely lord was one of the many beings that had a tragic ending. Rarely do the giants of Lordran have happy fates.

They had it best in the age of gods. Perhaps because one of them was a powerful knight of Gwyn.
Even then, Hawkeye, the giant knight of Gwyn suffered at the hands of humans who packed his helmet with tree resin and fooled him into thinking he was blind.

The other giants of that glorious age were put to use as basic laborers or perhaps slaves. Their puny wit and intelligence make them unfit for almost everything other than labor and war.

Drangleic, one of the many human kingdoms were invaded by a distant race of giants to take back what was once theirs.

It ended in bloodshed and giants were taken for experimentation with their very souls becoming displaced from their bodies. Their abuse hit new heights in Lothric where they were imprisoned and forced to wallow in the muck of the cathedral and slaughtered in masses.

Among all those abused by the cruelty of humans, one rose above the rest. It was Yhorm. Yhorm was the descendant of an ancient conqueror.

A conqueror who once subdued the people of the Profaned Capitol, another human kingdom.
And in time, Yhorm was asked by these very humans to lead them.

This was because most kings of his time were slaughtered by Wolnir, the enormous conqueror of Carthus who also felled into the abyss like many others.

Due to Wolnir's fall to the abyss, the people of the Profaned Capitol found themselves without a ruler or a protector which was necessity in the world of Lordran.

So, they asked Yhorm for help. Yhorm accepted his role and ruled over the Capitol as its Lord.
He served as both their mighty blade and their stone-hard shield.

You would think that Yhorm would be respected by his people but that was far from the truth. People who proclaim him Lord spurned him.

Perhaps this was because of his heritage of conquerors or perhaps simply because he was giant, a race known for their lack of intelligence with the exception of few. But it was quite clear that he was loathed.

Yhorm tried hard to prove himself a worthy ruler of the Capitol, risking everything for his people. Great machete in one hand and Great shield in the other.

Yet, his people's shame and prejudice manifested as bitterness eventually over time. In another brave gesture, he gave his people to means to defeat him easily.

A 'storm ruler', an ancient sword also known as 'Giant Slayer' capable of bringing mighty giants down to their knees with the power of the storm held within. Yhorm had two of them and now, only one remained in his possession.

At some point during the wars, Yhorm lost someone he wished to protect. She did not know whether it was a partner or a friend.

This lost became a legacy of his later years. He threw away his shield for he was no longer interested in protecting.

In the place of his shield, Yhorm added a notch to his giant machete making his fighting style resemble to that of a berserker with nothing left to lose.

In time, his enemies were crushed through sheer strength leaving threats only from within.
A group of women, relatives of oracles from a by-gone era triggered a curse within them. This transformed them to monstrosities.

An enormous hand with calcified protrusions and a hole swelling deep within the palm.
From that day onward, the Profane flame was born in the capitol. The Profane flame came to define the Capitol.

It was said to be inextinguishable with the ability to swallow the hearts of those that touches it even slightly, inspiring cruelty and torture. The darkness of the Abyss itself was reflected in the flame.

With nothing left to lose, and a monumental soul to burn, Yhorm decided to link the fire putting a rest to the Profane flame and enabling a new age of fire proving his doubters wrong.

Just as he gave one storm ruler to those who doubted him, he gave the other to one he trusted. That was Siegward, a kind-hearted knight of Catrina.

He was also made to give promise that he would slay his old friend if he ever faltered in his duties.
And so, the fire was linked and Yhorm failed in ways that others said he would. A rush of flame fell from the sky and incinerated not only Yhorm, but including all the residents of the Capitol.

It appeared his soul wasn't strong enough or it was because he had the soul of a giant. For all his hard work trying to protect the innocent families of his land, they all went up in flames. The voices of his doubters would have sky-rocketed had they all not been burnt to the ground.

Ages passed and the fire inevitably fades once again and Yhorm was brought back from the death to sacrifice his soul once again. This time however, he refused to sacrifice his soul fearing another disaster.

He fled his duty and settled in the capitol he once called home. He sat on his old throne surrounded by the melted corpses of those who doubted him waiting for something, truly alone even more so than when he was alive.

Siegward finally faces his old friend with a little help from the Ashen One, finds the courage to meet his old friend once again. He couldn't bear to see his friend gone truly mad. Carrying the storm ruler, he slayed Yhorm alongside the Ashen One.

After the fight, Siegward finally rest in peace after having a drink with the Ashen One in the memories of his once proud friend. Siegward wasn't killed. His quest was complete, and his oath was fulfilled. He had nothing left to live for and so he passes into the afterlife.

In the end, all that remain from the Profane Capitol were the cinders of a Lord fit only to surrender its fire for the ambition of herself and the Ashen One.

He was hated both in his life and death, but he was truly a worthy lord who wants the best for his people.

She did not wish to call upon Siegward but the moment she saw Yhorm, one soul burned so strong and bright she couldn't help but call upon it.

Siegward has come to fulfill his duty and oath once more and slay his friend a second time. He slowly walked out from within the dust created by the swing of Yhorm's machete. His voice cracked with despair as he happily faces his old friend yet again.

"Yhorm ... old friend ..."

His voice caused the giant above to look straight at him for even in death and madness, the Lord of Capitol still recognizes his loyal friend.

"I ... Siegward of the knights of Catrina has come to uphold my promise."

Nonetheless Yhorm raised his blade and rose to his full height. The red hood must have resurrected from his prime for she barely reached his ankles. His head alone covered the sun shining upon Sakaar.

Metal armor clanking and chain mails rotting. His once handsome face only looked grey with red eyes. His voice howling in madness in similar fashion to ghosts and wraiths.

His footsteps causing minor earthquakes, she looked upon the might of Yhorm, a lord of Cinder in all his glory.

"Let the sun shine upon this Lord of Cinder."