Cinder of the boreal valley
Alwyn sets Gwyndolin down in the cathedral in which he had fought Pontiff Sulyvahn, Gwyndolin sees the state his dear blade left the tyrant in, the Pontiff's body was nigh-unrecognizable, even taking into account the man's already odd anatomy. Gwyndolin looked upon the carcass in both awe and terror, taking in how brutal the attacks Alwyn did against the Pontiff must have been.
"So, I take it I have been dead for quite some time considering how everything seems to have gone so far to shit I'm surprised it doesn't all look like Blighttown, what all have I missed? Namely, do you know who the saint Aldrich is? The Pontiff had been saying Aldrich would come to consume you and another god here in Irithyll, yet I do not know anything about him. Also, who is this other god you have here in Irithyll?" Alwyn asks, genuinely curious as to what could have caused the world to sink this so far into decay.
"Well, I'll answer the quicker question first, the other god here in Irithyll is Yorshka, who is by all intents and purposes, my sister. I remember you went into the painting of Ariamis, and my best description of Yorshka is like a younger version of Priscilla. Thankfully, unlike with Priscilla, Gwyn was not here to lock her in a painting, so I raised her as my sister, I even gave her her name."
"Now, for the longer part..." Gwyndolin let out a long, audible sigh, his breathing slightly cracked from his ailments. "It has been thousands upon thousands of cycles since you linked the flame, each time the world has decayed and festered progressively more. Aldrich, much like you, linked the flame. But unlike you, Aldrich was neither made lord of cinder by choice, nor out of his virtuousness. Aldrich was a consumer of his fellow humans. He cruelly devoured both man and child alike." Gwyndolin broke down coughing, abruptly interrupting his speech. Once he finally regained his breath, he continued.
"When I heard he had been doing so right under my nose here in Irithyll, I banished him to the Cathedral of the Deep, where he was intended to be locked away with all the other abyssal creatures that have gotten progressively more vile as the cycles went on, however, what I hadn't anticipated was that Aldrich's fellow deacons had managed to infiltrate the cathedral and contaminate it with their doctrine. It became an execution ground for the innocent as they would drag innocent people to be fed to Aldrich, Gwyn's sake, even some of the clergy joined him in the feasting, the Pontiff while gloating to me had even said how his fellow clergy practically reveled in the crying screams as those poor souls were consumed slowly and painfully. The idea of that happening to me was terrifying sure, but the idea of that happening to Yorshka... I don't even want to think about it." Gwyndolin replied, his voice sounding depressed just at the thought, and then paused so as to let Alwyn process all the information.
"He ate children?" Alwyn said, his voice going quiet, but his eyes and smoldering armor telling the sheer fury hiding beneath the surface.
"Yes, according to the reports, only two managed to survive, and Aldrich has at least consumed 30... those poor children...." Gwyndolin replied, his voice shaking, Alwyn couldn't tell whether it was from the poison's effects or just the grief.
"I'm glad two managed to escape at least. To think that all of this decay started because of me... I could have simply stayed by your side if I had let the age of dark come, then you would still have me to hold onto as something that wouldn't leave you, but instead, I linked the flame, and now the world suffers for my sin." Alwyn said, finally finding the thing he was looking for in his bag. "Here, my lord, this should treat your poisoning, be warned though, it tastes foul." Alwyn says as he gives Gwyndolin the blooming purple moss chunk.
Gwyndolin consumes the purple moss chunk, it tastes so foul he almost vomits, but he manages to swallow it down. "You weren't kidding, that tasted like it was literal excrement." Gwyndolin says, he can feel his body now beginning to disperse from his body, he can actually stand on his own once more.
"Yeah, I know, I had to eat dozens of those while I was in Blight-town, it was not fun." Gwyndolin gives Alwyn a disturbed look.
"How-" Gwyndolin said, looking on at Alwyn, baffled, "I barely managed to swallow down one, how did you-?"
"Sheer desperation, that's how." Alwyn replied, his tone so blunt Gwyndolin couldn't figure out if he was being jovial or dead serious. "I don't know what you all did to make Blighttown that toxic of an environment, but I severely hope you have resolved it by now, as I fear to see how mutated it will have become at this point."
Gwyndolin couldn't help but feel a bit of unease about Alwyn's monotone voice while he was speaking of something that, so long ago, he had ranted about to Gwyndolin for hours on end without letting up on how frustrating it was for him. What had linking the first flame done to Alwyn?
"Alwyn, are you, alright? You aren't sounding like yourself, and, it's beginning to concern me." Gwyndolin says, his voice showing the genuinety of his concern.
Alwyn sighs, as he begins to break down. "No, nothing about linking that fire was alright, I had done it because I fully believed that it was the one thing you had left and I couldn't stomach the idea of you fully being without anything left, and I only realized as the fire engulfed me that I had become a thing you held close."
"And then, my own foolish perseverance forced my soul to remain, forcing me to witness as my decision led fool after fool to make that same mistake, I tried to scream out at them to not do it, that it was a horrible mistake, but my body was fully charcoal at that point, I had no lungs with which to shout out and strain to make noise." Alwyn said, voice growing more agitated. Gwyndolin could hear a faint weeping begin to be evident in Alwyn's voice.
"And then, once I finally was rewarded for my perseverance by the time the bells rang, resurrecting my flesh alongside the other, more recent, lords of cinder, I returned here to find you were being prepared to be sacrificed by someone you trusted somewhat, considering one of his swords had the darkmoon blade miracle glowing upon it. Sure I stopped him before he could succeed, but it didn't seem like I could afford to be much later considering how those Silver Knights were shrinking in numbers as they tried to defend the cathedral. I condemned so many to suffer when I linked the flame, even you, the shame of that burns worse then that fire ever could." Alwyn says, beginning to cry as he speaks. "And worst of all, you don't even seem to hate me for my sins, when I've hurt you so much. I'm worse than Gwyn in that regard." As Alwyn says that he fully breaks down, curling up into a ball.
Gwyndolin felt his soul ache as he witness the state Alwyn was in. This was, no still is, his most trusted blade, someone Gwyndolin loved and still loves with every ounce of his being. And yet here his blade lay at his heels, his very heart seeming shattered by guilt. Even Solaire's unfortunate fate hadn't made Alwyn sob like this, even that didn't make feel as Alwyn as guilty as this. And worse yet, Alwyn viewed himself as having abandoned Gwyndolin like all the other gods had, and he was comparing himself to Gwyn. Gwyndolin came to terms with Gwyn's horrid actions when he had discovered Yorshka, but hearing Alwyn compare his sins to that of Gwyndolin's father, the man who had made so many suffer, it hurt Gwyndolin far worse than that poison which the Pontiff used. What could he say to him? What words could express Gwyndolin's thoughts in this moment? So long he had hoped against hope the two would one day find themselves reunited somehow, he had hoped it would be a happy day, but this was farther from that than Gwyndolin could imagine, this was utterly heartwrenching. And then Gwyndolin began to feel himself starting to cry as well, which upon Alwyn seeing, he immediately began to focus entirely on making sure Gwyndolin was ok, pulling him into an embrace.
"My dearest blade, please, I cannot bear to see thee hurting so much. Please, just tell me what I must do to make thee feel better, thou are scaring me, my dearest Alwyn..." Gwyndolin says as he cries into Alwyn's pauldron.
Alwyn cannot help but hold Gwyndolin closer to him. "Please, my lord, do not cry for me, you being here is enough for me, so please, let's just, stay like this for a bit." Alwyn replies.
And so, the two stay like that, for so long they fall asleep in each other's arms. And for once, Gwyndolin's dreams are again content.