Work Text:
Lynn did not return to the Cathedral of the Forsaken until after Melina had given herself as kindling to the flame, after she could no longer be the voice to plead Lynn walk away from that hole carved deep into the land. It was not out of spite, nothing so personal, to go behind Melina’s back after she was gone. Just as Melina had felt her purpose was to be tinder to set the Erdtree aflame, Lynn felt called by whatever was hidden behind the cathedral’s altar. She had come across the place by mere chance when stumbling through the depths. What lay further was a mystery, Lynn having abided by Melina’s request when she asked to leave the Frenzied Flame alone. But what exactly was the Frenzied Flame? Melina had not explained much further, only calling it chaos, life devouring. What set it apart from all of the other calamitous forces in the Lands Between? With that question in mind, Lynn stepped across the altar’s surface and descended the stairs behind it.
The path downwards led to warm air. It felt somewhat comfortable, even as Lynn began to sweat. Then she turned the corner and saw the bodies. Dry, reddened corpses filled the area, twisted and contorted, frozen in their final images of madness and despair. They looked like Kale’s people, the nomads. The warmth grew stronger around Lynn, despite the chill running down her spine. As she navigated through the deceased, her ears caught wind of a sweet melody being played deeper down. Lynn made her way across the planks that connected the floors, the song soothing her nerves as she carefully walked above the precarious drop. Even within the swathe of corpses, it was simple enough to follow the song to its performer. The nomad hardly seemed to note her presence, lost in his own world. Perhaps the composition was all he had left of his mind. Lynn sat down nearby to listen, resting her head against the wall. The musician continued to play the same tune over and over, so solemn, yet still happier than the one played by the merchant nomads on the surface above. Lynn closed her eyes, reminiscing upon her journey, those she had met, and those deaths she had borne witness to, some dealt by her own hand. With those memories dancing in her mind, she dozed off.
In the darkness of her sleep, Lynn saw a small yellow flame flicker to life in the distance. It waved back and forth, growing and growing with each movement. The yellow flames burst outwards in an explosion, a fiery eye erupting from the center. Its blotched misshapen pupil jittered with the flames. A voice echoed in the distance, and Lynn screamed, but it wasn't her voice that came out. It was Vyke's scream, and Lynn reached up to touch the warped helmet on her head, no, Vyke's head. It scorched her hand, the helmet red hot, as if it were still melting.
Lynn awoke with a start, her body sticky with sweat and her hand still stinging with pain. She wiped her face with her sleeve, although she felt no more refreshed from the motion, and stood up.
Down, further down. Her gut, her heart, her everything called to proceed. Lynn walked over to the side of the tune-playing nomad, and eased herself down from the ledge. The old stone walls were unsteady, stones crumbling and falling out of the wall when Lynn attempted to use them as footholds, so she focused on the graves carved into the earth and the tombstones jutting out for her path downwards. It was a slow descent, advancing little by little, testing to see if stones were loose, and bracing herself for when she had to let herself drop and catch the next hold. Her body ached with the exertion, her grip on the wall becoming weaker as she progressed. As Lynn readied herself to drop down another floor, sweat trickled into her eyes, and she paused to wipe it away. The stone she was holding onto came loose with the shift in weight, and Lynn plunged backwards, smashing into a gravestone and knocking it free from the wall on her way down. The slab fell with her to the bottom, and further still, smashing the ground open, the floor spilling into the room below.
Lynn crashed down on top of the stone rubble, shedding blood drops onto the earth. She pulled herself to her feet, still reeling from the fall. It was blazing hot in this hidden section of the catacombs. The heat radiated from off to the side, and Lynn turned to face the source. At the far end, the wall glowed faintly with heat. No… not just a wall, doors. Red stone sealed the opening, and the surrounding surfaces were burnt black. There were grooves across the left-side door, as if some creature had gouged them out during its attempt to escape before the gate had been sealed.
Lynn made her way over and pushed at the entry, to no avail. She pushed and pulled in different directions, but it would not even budge. The heat was too much, directly at the door. The sweat on Lynn's face would just as soon return as she wiped it away. Her garments were damp, nearly soaked. She could bear it no more, Lynn threw her bag to the side, clawed at her cloak and robes, fumbling with the buttons and clasps, tearing the fabrics off her body until she was left nude. The heat was, at last, tolerable. It wrapped around her like a blanket, comforting in its warmth. Lynn pushed at the doors again, and their glow began to brighten, waves of heat rising off the surface. The red seal began to give, bright cracks spreading throughout, as it melted away. The doors opened wide.
Within was not the sacred Two Fingers. Three Fingers, clawing at the ground and leaving trails of fire in its wake, paused and rose up. Its fingerprints and creases flared up with yellow intensity, illuminating the cramped room it had been locked in long ago. Lynn stepped forward, her heartbeat thumping loudly in her ears, and the Three Fingers reached out in turn. It wrapped around Lynn, slowly grasping her within a fist, its skin feeling rough like hardened clay. The Fingers squeezed, and the Frenzied Flame within it surged. Lynn felt insurmountable heat, yet no pain, even as the fire rose higher and higher. It was all around her, it was within her, the yellow flames.
The three fingers faded away into ashes, and Lynn fell to her knees, still burning. The flame had burned impressions into Lynn's skin, leaving fingerprints seared upon her body. The smell of her scorched flesh filled the room. The Frenzied Flame squirmed inside of her, like a creature let loose after an eternity in confinement. Her eyes twitched in their sockets, both now yellow and fiery as the one in her dream, boiling hot. Lynn struggled to her feet, and stumbled out of the room. The glow of the doors faded as she walked away.
Lynn picked up her clothes from the ground and dressed herself, but it felt wrong. It was too warm, and felt like an itching beneath her skin all throughout her body. An idea occurred to her, and Lynn disrobed again, rummaging through her bag until she found what she sought. The silk of the deathbed dress was soft, gently brushing against her body as she slipped it on. Her scorched back and shoulders lay bare, a testament to her covenant with the Frenzied Flame, for the world to witness. Lynn ran her fingers along her scorched arm, feeling across the new lines. This was right. This is what she would take into the Erdtree, to put an end to it all.
Ahh, may chaos take the world. May chaos… take the world.
