Chapter 40: Malenia, Blade of Miquella

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A/N: Pretty sure I made some stuff up this chapter in regards to Malenia and her struggles. But it makes sense in my head, so now its canon for this fic.

NOTICE: This chapter was posted yesterday in error. Go back a chapter to read what was supposed to be Chapter 39 all along.

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How long? How long had it been now? It was hard to tell. Time passed strangely, for one such as her. She who was called an Empyrean. She who had never known defeat. Malenia lets out the quietest breath of air, as she sits in the chair next to the husk of the Haligtree, resting her single flesh and blood arm upon the root beside her. Her fingers caress the bark.

It had been easier when she slept. After that final battle with Radahn, much had been taken from her. After that disastrous final bout, the Battle of Aeonia, Malenia had been... exhausted. Falling into a great slumber, any number of dastardly things could have been done to her in the aftermath. But thanks to Knight Finlay, she had been brought back here, to the Haligtree, to await her brother's resurrection.

Finlay had discharged her duty well. Twas only through her valiant service that Malenia could return to Miquella's side, to serve as his Blade once more. But... Malenia could not say what had happened in her slumber. Something had gone wrong. Her brother had begun to undergo rebirth before she'd left for battle, but when she finally awoke after far too long... he had still not been reborn.

It was as if he was gone. But how could that be. No... no, Malenia would not allow the doubts to creep into her mind again. Twas the most insidious aspect of the Scarlet Rot that flowed through her veins. It was always whispering in the back of her mind. Always urging her to unleash it.

Miquella, voice of reason that he was, beloved brother to her that he was, had been the one who helped her hold it back when they were children. Through service to her brother, Malenia had found peace... for a given measure of it. The rot was always there. It took her limbs, it took her eyes, it took her dignity.

But Miquella... Miquella restored these things to her. He gave her purpose. He gave her a reason to fight. The voices whispered in the back of her mind constantly, calling her a Goddess of Rot, telling her that she was meant for more, to bloom and bloom and bloom. Malenia ignored them, as she always had under Miquella's watchful eye.

And then Malenia had grown up... and Miquella had not. It had taken her far too long to realize her brother had his own burden to bear. Far too long to realize just how caring and kind and selfless he was, to put so much effort into helping her when his problems were just as great, just as... debilitating. It was then that Malenia had sworn herself to her brother, as his Blade.

It was then that she had taken up the art of the sword, swearing to never need to turn to the Rot for help so long as she had her brother by her side and a sword to wield in his name. She would not let the voices in. She would not let the Rot control her. This she had sworn.

Only once had they overcome her. During that final battle with her half-brother Radahn, with Miquella far, far away and in a state where he could not help her, pushed to her limits with her allies fallen all around her and her enemies nearly broken... Malenia had made a poor decision.

She was just... so angry. The voices had capitalized on that. They had weaponized her love for her brother against her in a moment of weakness. Radahn refused to listen to reason. Miquella was the best of them! He was the most fearsome Empyrean of them all! By comparison, her demigod half-brother was a jumped-up upstart at best!

General Radahn... pah! Don't make her laugh. Only Miquella was fit to be Elden Lord. Only Miquella was meant to take their mother's place and reforge the Elden Ring. If Radahn had simply understood that, if he'd accepted that... she wouldn't have needed to do what she did. She...

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