Later I inspected the trader's full stock. He was especially eager that I buy a craftsman's kit — tools for fashioning all manner of useful things, even improvised grenades. In the end, though, I chose to spend the last of my runes on something more useful: I sat again by the place of Grace and asked Melina to boost my attributes—that is, to strengthen me using the runes.
"Distribute the points evenly between Strength and Endurance," she said.
"Ah… um… I think I know what you mean," her voice chimed softly.
She didn't appear in solid form, but I felt her hand touch mine. The rune sphere shattered and its power poured into me. This time the effect was even more pronounced than before. I could see my muscles becoming more defined.
"Good…" I breathed, blissfully.
It was genuinely pleasant, feeling my strength grow.
By then the sun had slipped beneath the horizon and night fell across the land. I didn't notice at first—the glow of the Erd Tree made the dusk linger, like early and late twilight at once—yet the stars were visible. I had spent nearly the whole day at the Chapel of Waiting, so I decided to stay there for the night. The trader didn't mind me sleeping by his fire, but nearer the Grace point felt better. The golden light offered warmth and comfort, dulling hunger and thirst; for the moment I didn't feel particularly hungry.
I lay down on the banner I'd used as a blanket and asked my ghostly companion a few more questions.
"Listen, what would you advise? Where should I go to gather more of these runes?"
"Even without Finger Maids' guidance, runes confer power, and the tougher the foe, the likelier they are to hold many runes. But I recommend following the path Grace indicates. Obstacles will meet you along that way, and overcoming them will only make you stronger."
"Hmm, so—Stormveil?"
"The Stormcastle is now in ruin, but Godrick's men still guard it. The lord of that place, though he's lost his mind, remains a mighty opponent—even if he is one of the weaker demigods."
"By the way, could you teach me some magic?"
"Sorry, I don't wield magic." She shook her head.
"But you teleport and summon spirits… isn't that magic?"
My question seemed to flummox her.
"No… magic is the power mages draw from stars and moons…"
"Oh—fireballs, lightning from hands?"
"Those are divine powers, attained through prayer," she answered.
So apparently magic was a cosmic art, while fire and lightning were the province of paladins and clerics who prayed to the gods.
"And… do the gods answer those prayers?" I asked, skeptical.
"Yes," she replied succinctly.
"All right. Is there any magic… or prayer that controls time?" I asked casually, hiding my particular interest.
"Some of the mightiest ancient dragons could influence time's flow. They relied on such powers when they attacked Leyndell. Though Marika removed the Death Rune and made mortals immortal, the dragons still dealt significant blows to Marika's army."
"They were defeated?"
"Yes. But Godrick the Golden admired the dragons' power so much that in the capital he founded a cult of the ancient dragons. His followers sought the same force the dragons wielded."
"So those cultists learned to control time too?"
"No. No human ever achieved that."
So time control is rare, and perhaps not absolute. If dragons once manipulated time and were beaten, how did the humans do it? Even granting immortality, it's hard to imagine.
"Is there anywhere else to learn magic besides the Raya Lucaria Academy?" I pressed.
"Only if you find a sorcerer willing to teach you. I don't know any," she replied.
Becoming a staff-wielding mage here didn't sound easy. Still, I had these amazing sands of time. I'd wager my ability was far more potent than most conventional wizardry. A secret edge.
After more talk about the dying world, I relaxed and watched the night sky. The glow from the Erd Tree made the night almost bright; still, I fell into sleep.
And it wasn't an ordinary dream.
Panic rose in my chest as I found myself again in the endless golden desert. Only now, spears and swords I had sent into the sand jutted from the dunes.
Unlike before, this felt lucid rather than dreamlike. I was alert and clear-headed. I spread my hand and the sand responded—a vortex rose around me. There seemed to be no end to this sand now. I tried slowing and stopping time, but it rang hollow: nothing moved here—whether time flowed or not made no difference. If nothing changes, what's the point of stalling time?
Still, I didn't want to be trapped in the sand-world.
Fear of being trapped, and a fierce desire to return to the Interworld, birthed a strange effect. The vortex slammed into a dune and formed a whirlpool of sand. In its center an illusion of the ruined Elle temple coalesced—the very place where my body lay swaddled in the banner with the silver lion.
Acting on intuition, I stepped into that eddy. The next moment I jolted awake.
"Huh?"
Relief that I could leave the golden-sand world at will lifted my mood considerably. Only later did I notice a curious mist threading the temple ruins—the fog glittered with tiny sparks of white light.
"Come here, Ashen soul," a mysterious voice whispered, carried on the wind.
On a shattered wall a woman stood: short, dark-blue skin, a large pointed hat, a fur mantle, dressed in white. In the night and inside the mist she looked enigmatic. Then I noticed something else—she had four arms. The wide sleeves of her sorceress robe hid the extra limbs so it wasn't immediately obvious.
"Um, greetings." I nodded and stepped closer.
"Pleased to meet you, Ashen. I am the Witch Renna," she said.
Her name struck a chord—I'd heard it before.
"Renna… the daughter of Rennala and Radagon?" I asked, surprised.
"No…" she sighed with mild surprise. "You caught me. My true name is Ranni. Don't worry, Ashen, I don't possess a Great Rune, and we have no need to fight over the Elden Ring."
Well… I hadn't planned on fighting her, and honestly she inspired more sympathy than a desire to contest a Great Rune. Turns out Ranni and Renna were different names, and she'd presented herself cryptically. Fine—let her think I'm smarter than I am. Her conspiratorial skill wasn't flawless, either.
"Good to hear," the witch smiled softly.
Another strange detail about her struck me—shocking, even. Her neck bore cracks… and her hands…
I nearly blurted the tactless question: are you a doll? She truly looked like a beautiful porcelain puppet. Yet when she spoke, her lips moved like anyone else's, and she gestured normally; the hands moved as human hands do in conversation.
Ranni noticed my stare.
"Yes, this body is just a doll," she said.
"Sorry—didn't mean to… stare. It's unusual," I stammered.
Coming closer, I saw yet more oddity: beside the doll's face shimmered a translucent spectral visage of another woman. The doll's right eye was shut; the ghostly reflection's left eye was closed. Their features differed slightly.
"I understand," Ranni said kindly. "Tell me, that ring… can you call the steed with it?"
"Oh, that?" I lifted the bone ring I'd slipped on. "A girl gave it to me… I haven't tried summoning the Flow yet."
Curiously, Melina's presence was faint despite the Grace point nearby. Maybe she had other business while I slept, or perhaps the witch had spooked her—though Ranni didn't seem responsible for shrinking Melina's presence.
"Try it," the witch encouraged.
Shrugging, I brought the ring to my lips and whistled through its little holes. Not on the first try, but I found the note soon enough. A silver stream poured from the ring and folded into the familiar shape of the little horse. The Flow blinked at me with vertical pupils—goatlike rather than equine.
"Prrr…" she snorted and approached.
"Good girl," I said, stroking her neck.
Ranni smiled at what she'd seen. "Excellent, you have a talent for summoning spirits," she observed. "Allow me to give you something."
She handed me a small bell.
"Hmm?" I asked, eying the bell.
"A spirit-summoning bell. Once it belonged to a previous owner of the Flow."
Which meant—Melina? Or someone else rode that horse before?
"With it you can call spirits from their dust—those who were punished by the Order, or chose to become spirits to aid heroes in battle. Here's the powder of lone wolves: summon them and they will help you fight."
Along with the bell she offered a small stone casket.
"Thanks…" I accepted awkwardly. "Why give this to me?"
"Don't ponder it, Ashen," she said. "I have my reasons. Consider it a whim—no debt owed."
"Oh, by the way, my name is Kron."
"I'll remember," she said.
Ranni smoothed her robe and prepared to rise.
"Oh—and one more thing," she added.
"Yes, Kron?"
"Perhaps you could teach me magic?" I blurted out.
She cocked her head and regarded me with interest. "I'm not the best teacher, and I don't take pupils," she said, thinking it over. "So you want to learn?"
"Not sure… just curious what it is."
"Then I'll give you a small hint," she said.
"I'm listening."
"If you travel north to the ruined fort—there's a guide-stone there—then turn east, you'll reach a bridge. Beyond it the road forks north and south. Go south toward the Weeping Peninsula and you'll find old abandoned ruins. In their cellar hides a sorceress who might agree to teach you."
"North, east, then south," I repeated.
"Yes. But know this: the sorceress's refuge is guarded by creatures you'll have to fight to reach her."
"Thanks for the tip."
"It was a pleasure talking, Kron. We may not meet again, but one more advice: study the Interworld well—many secrets are hidden within."
With that she dissolved into tiny motes of light, just like Melina had done before.
"Great…" I muttered.
At that moment the mist thinned and Kale the trader stirred, stretching. He glanced at the sky, plucked up his lute and began to pluck a soft tune. I stretched too; I felt quite lively and not exactly sleepy. I'd lain down more out of habit than true tiredness.
I spent the rest of the night in the ruins lost in thought.
I missed my old world: the comfort of my flat, the internet. Here, at nearly every turn, lurked grotesque things—the spider, the giant armored horseman patrolling near the temple. Yet I had gained astonishing powers and the rune enhancements. It was exhilarating, and I felt drawn to follow the path of Grace further—to meet the sorceress and learn magic. Still, the notion of petitioning local gods made me uneasy.
At some point Melina's presence returned.
"You know how to use this?" I asked, holding the bell and casket.
She appeared behind me and peered at the items. "Ah… that's a spirit-summoning bell," she said. "In places where the Erd Tree's roots run strong—where memories of the dead flow—ringing the bell lets you summon spirits."
"But the Flow appears anywhere?"
"Not everywhere. The Flow isn't tied to the Tree's roots," she explained.
"Where did you get the bell?" she asked.
"Ranni passed by and gave it to me," I replied.
"Ranni the Witch?" Melina repeated. "She said she has no Great Rune?"
"Yes."
"Hmm…" Melina murmured, thoughtful. "That could be true… but why did she—"
"I don't know why she gave it to me," I said.
Neither did Melina.
Nevertheless, overnight I shaped a plan. I'd scout the surroundings, and when night fell again I'd sleep and see if I returned to the desert in my dreams. If so, maybe I'd learn something. Then I'd head for the sorceress Ranni had hinted at. I was genuinely curious about local magic. Prayers, too, were interesting, though invoking the local gods felt uneasy.
Near dawn I asked Melina about other worlds. Her reply surprised me.
"Elden is connected to many of its own reflections—worlds like ours which didn't intersect until the Elden Ring shattered. Now sometimes you can glimpse ghosts from other worlds."
Could Earth be a reflection of Elden? Or the other way around?
It was food for thought. Morning came and I set out to survey the area.
"Who's that giant rider?" I asked.
"A guardian of the Erd Tree," Melina sighed. "I think he was sent to stop Ashen who answer the Ring's call. You needn't fear him. If you beat the Spawn, you can handle the guardian—especially now, with your strength raised."
"Let's see…"
I left the temple grounds and walked toward the guardian.
The situation differed from the spider. The guardian was massive, but more human than the Spawn. Still, doubts nagged me. I decided to try talking first; if he attacked, I'd consider myself unleashed.
As I left the temple, something altered in the air.
"Now you can summon spirits," Melina's voice informed me, quieter than before.
I took out the casket and shook the bell. A clear chime rang and silver light breathed from the box, coalescing into three beasts.
When Melina's presence faded again, I sliced my palm with the knife I'd bought from Kale. A swirl of golden sand formed into a few rusty spears and I hefted one to my shoulder, setting off down the hill toward the guardian.
He was on his usual patrol.
"Um… greetings…" I called.
"GRR!" he grunted, inarticulate.
His rider jabbed the horse's flanks and it surged forward.
"Go!" I commanded my summoned minions.
"GRR!" one wolf snarled back.
They leapt at the foe. The wolves were fast as gusts of wind, closing on the guardian in seconds—then, in a flash, the lead wolf was cleaved in two by the rider's golden halberd. The horse's hooves crushed the second wolf as the rider charged through, and only the third wolf slipped aside in confusion and survived.
"Ranni, sorry—your wolves failed," I winced. "All right, buddy, I'll handle it."
Sand rose in a whirl and I slowed time just as the guardian brought his halberd down in a charging strike. In slowed motion I sidestepped the blow and took aim with my spear. Striking his golden armor outright would be pointless; the plates were thick. But joints weren't solid metal—they had chainmail at the underarms, and the groin looked vulnerable.
I might reach his hands with a spear, but he and his horse were huge. A thrust at that height would be weak. I could try to stab the horse, but I felt sorry for the animal. Only one ugly vulnerability remained.
"Ha…" I exhaled, and struck hard.
The pike drove into the inner thigh of the rider, right by the groin and just above the saddle.
"GUOOOO…" the guardian groaned, stretched out and time-stretched in agony.
In the slowed world the horse reared and the rider dropped his weapon. The strike had been so forceful the shockwave would have knocked me flat. I closed the distance while the guardian stumbled, raising his halberd.
Seizing the moment, I struck again—this time the spear jabbed under the rider's helm into a slit in the visor.
Backing away, I allowed time to flow faster.
The knight toppled from his saddle, choking on blood from a severed throat. One leg caught in a stirrup; he somersaulted headfirst into the ground and the terrified horse struck him with its hooves. The armor clanged. Eventually the rider rolled free and the horse galloped off.
"Ghh…" he gasped.
Clutching the halberd, he staggered and, though wounded, tried to rise. He swung his weapon and charged at me.
"Just die already," I muttered, slowing time more.
I stepped forward as he lunged. Snatching the spear as if to throw it, I made a clean strike through a gap in his helm—then left the weapon stuck and circled. A sword appeared in my hand and I drove it again under the helm from behind.
Only then did he collapse with a thud.
"Ha… done?" I panted.
The guardian's halberd clattered and his body turned to dust.
Another foe down.
From the disintegrating armor a golden radiance, like the Grace light, spiraled toward me—the same feeling as when I broke a rune sphere. This time the effect was stronger: this man had more runes than the spider.
I knew how to spend them. The trader had explained I could extract runes into spheres to pass to others—but I planned to use these runes to boost myself.
Kale's wares were nothing special; maybe his crafting kit was worth considering. Then again, I can stop time. Why pay for what I could filch quietly?