Marika
The queen was rather annoyed when they set back out from the grace to find themselves so far up now. She could see the forward path was lined with barrels and hiding blade footed birds. Traps for anyone who has gotten so far. Down to her right were patrolling guards and a knight, leading to a larger courtyard that she suspected was on their way to their goal.
They had come to hopefully get through to Liurnia, and... put down a second demi-god. She had heard the stories of Godrick's crimes, but she knew they had to be exaggerated. She had not yet seen any of these so-called grafted people. Perhaps it had simply been fear mongering.
She glanced at her knight, sighing as she saw the soft flex to her fingers. This far up was quite enough to make her shockingly height aversed knight rather shakey. The sooner they were back on mostly solid ground, the better.
"Hm.." she grumbled as she examined the terrain.
"Not many options to us, is there?"
"Actually.." the queen muttered. She saw a damaged portion of the rock wall with a few small planks laid down. She walked to it, looking over and seeing that one could make a jump across to the nearby roof. After that, a small hop down would let them avoid the entire possible path of trapped barrels and guards. At least a good chunk of the resistance they'd surely face.
"Over there," knelt forward with a hand on her knee and pointing, "We can jump to that roof easily. With a good running start to clear the jump, and we are quite a bit ahead."
Her knight gulped a little, peering over the gap and looking down a little faster than the queen suspected she meant to. "Ya... jump across that..."
"Well, if I must jump and carry you across."
"'Scuse me?" The knight turned only to audibly yelp as Marika lifted her into her arms like a blushing bride. It was likely that moment that the knight remembered that she was not the only one benefitting from Melina's new aid of compounding runes into strength and that the goddess was no slouch. With a few steps back and a quick run, the queen lept across the gap in a flutter of robes and a discreetly screaming knight before landing with a crunch of her boots onto the tile.
The knight shook for a moment or two before she slowly set her down back onto her feet. "See? Easy."
The knight took two steps forward before falling over with a heavy gasp on her hands and knees. She giggled softly, covering her mouth at the sight. This noble warrior who had taken on her most powerful son alongside a group of real heroes was currently shaking in her boots over a small leap over a high gap. She was beyond strange, and yet the queen felt endeared.
"N-next time... Warn somebody..." standing back up with a sigh, fixing her golden hood softly.
"Duly noted." She smiled and responded.
Both worked off the small roof to the landing beneath with far less difficulty before sneakily slipping through the open cavern as the nearby patrol went the other way.
Inside, they saw they were standing on a small scaffold of wood that oversaw a large open hall that likely was for celebrations. Weapons and standards of Stormveils colors, a grey and blue mix, covered the walls. A beautifully made painting of her first husband, Godfrey, sat on the far wall. She smiled a little at the memory of the man.
"Fond memories?"
"Yes. He was a good husband for what he was."
"What was he?"
"An animal. A savage brutish beast whose home was as much the battlefield as the bottom of a mug."
"And yet you are smiling."
She blushed softly, tucking her scarf over her mouth more. "He was not without his talents.."
"Ohhhhh, that kind of Beast."
"I have n-no idea whatever you might be implying!"
"Oh certainly, my queen. Forgive me for assuming you enjoyed anything at all."
"Ohhhh!" The queen growled, swatting at her knight in a playful manner as the knight laughed and held up her own arms. "Okay, okay, haha! You win already!"
"Hmph," crossing her arms and turning around, "S-so impudent sometimes." Her eyes opened, and every fiber of her body flipped.
They landed on the ceiling of the room, and all she could see were corpses. Dangling bones, bleeding limbs, and hung corpses lined the ceiling like strung up decorations. The body count was numerous. "What... is this?"
"The consequences of the grafting." The knight said somberly, walking to the ledge of the scaffold. "The cost of power."
"These... there are... infants... children..."
"Those are the ones intact enough to hang." There was a coldness to her knight's voice. Not the coldness of indifference. Closer to a cold and building rage.
"Surely... it is just... come," She shook her head as she began to dismount down the scaffold, "That door leads tonthe courtyard. Surely it will -" she was interrupted by the sound of something wet and wriggling being summoned.
Her eyes turned towards the space just beneath the beautiful painting as a swirl of magic formed out of golden light that seemed to almost drip black. Out of it, it began to crawl a vision that instantly shook the golden goddess to her very core.
A writhing, crawling figure of flesh and weapons. Limbs upon limbs smashed and fused to flesh upon flesh, body on top of body, barely draped by a cloak and armed in each forward arm with a weapon of war. At the very front was the head of a woman, whose face screamed as they writhed themselves out of the hole.
All she could do at the sight was scream and feel the wetness on her face fall as the mere sight left the woman right back where she had begun. Everything faded, and she was there again. Screaming, kicking, and wailing in pain from within the urn.
'You always were so weak.'
Luna
As the knight landed beside Marika, she heard the sound of something spawning. When she started to turn, she was instantly hit by Marika's scream. A hot and pained wail that resulted in the goddess falling right over. She did not have time to think of why, instead quickly picking her up and jumping right back up as a slamming spear and rapier cracked the stone work where they had stood. "You sure have great timing.." She muttered as she leaned the fainted queen against a wall.
The beast below did not sound particularly pleased, but she didn't have time to think over what it was. Leaping off the scaffold with a knife planted into the left most arm of the massive grafted monstrosity, the knight rolled along the floor as she landed and dodged a rapier that chipped slightly as it hit only rock.
Two more knives struck the creatures face, and it did seem to pain it. However, on closer inspection, there were no eyes on this creature. At least, not any on the head up at the front she had presumed was in control. Its aiming strikes told her quickly that, even if it was, blinding its senses was not an option.
Twin smashing blows of a hammer and axe shattered the sole wooden table that divided them before the creature actually lept up and attempted to stab its armaments onto the knight. It seemed entirely driven by rage.
Barely rolling out of the way, she was quickly grabbed and thrown across the room by several gripping hands in her ankle. "Not this shit agai -" before being cut off as the throw hit her against the painting with a painful crack. "IA-MAAH!" shouting suddenly in an entirely different language.
Righting herself as she pried from the bow thoroughly ruined painting, she looked up. The grafted beast was already running towards her in a shambling display of clicking weapons and half rotted limbs that was a truly horrible thing to behold. It looked as if simply living was suffering, and it's every wailing expression that was made all the worst by the bleeding lines down where she had tried to blind it only managed in making it so much worse.
It reminded her a bit, too, of what she carried inside. What price had been paid to make her, too many years ago. It gave her a sad kind of sympathy for this monster. It likely wanted none of this.
Her hand found the sheathe of her blade, leaping over the terrible form as it crashed into the painting, blindingly rampant and violent towards seemingly anything. Her own blade split a good line across the top, dispersing its cloak and leaving a bloody gash as she landed behind it.
It was so much worse without its shroud. A truw writhing mass of bodies that were stritched and fused with heat and thread with no regard for compatibility or pain. It was enough to make the knight want to wretch.
Her eyes narrowed in focus, knowing that putting it down now was the only right thing to do. Her grip tightened as she quickly chugged a splash of her red flask, relaxing and then retensing as the feeling of relief washed over her aching muscles and bones.
She drew her blade and parried away the first stab of a rapier with her own dagger. Her blade swatted away a seeking spear before delivering another violent slash that tore off three armed limbs. It screamed and lurched its entire weight up in an attempt to crush the knight. She lept forward into a roll, leaving behind a rope strung pot that fizzled and exploded when it landed. The blast threw up the creature for a second, angrily landing again with a seared thud before a second pit cracked against its open backwound and flooding it with a painfully seeping poison.
It flailed, swinging its limbs in a desperate attempt to scrape off the painful, burning feeling on its back. It became too distracted before three beams of moonlight painted across its body. It wriggled for a moment as the lines began to form a meter deep into its flesh before the knight could have sworn this look of relief come over the front face. It slowly fell to the ground, turning like all others into gilded dust.
Marika
She panicked, looking in all directions. She felt hot. Everywhere was hot, her flesh stung, her eyes bled with tears, sweat, and blood in equal measures. It was so very dark, and all she could see were the writhing corpses and squirming remains of other unfortunate victims. Her flesh was sore and felt as if she had been repeatedly whipped.
Then, a light began to shine on them as a lid was lifted from her prison. Eyes painfully looked up with fear at the sudden light, aching from so long in the dark. When she did, she saw two men with faces like ropes of squirming caterpillars. Between them was a man, shaved bald, and welted. He had violently angry eyes. They looked so full of hate. Towards her, towards their soon to be shared prison, towards everything.
He began to speak, but she did not hear a man's voice. "Marika, wake up," she heard him say in a more feminine voice than his face would denote, "We have to get moving."
Her eyes snapped wide open, once more surrounded by wooden scaffolding and stonework walls of the castle. She gasped sharply, sitting up in a cold sweat as her knight slowly rubbed her back. She held her face, unable to look up again. Unable to be reminded of just how horribly wrong everything she had worked for had truly become.
How her precious golden order had truly become soaked in far too much blood, even for someone like her.
'This is your fault, after all. This is all Your Fault.'
She wanted to ignore Him. She wanted to tell him to shut up and to go back to his cage. To tell him she could have never known. That this was all not her intention.
Intentions did not change the children hanging from the rafters from dead to alive.