elden ring · miquella the kind · kind · cursed youth · haligtree · land of shadow · divine · tragic · brotherly love · compelling affection
The atmosphere in the Land of Shadow is clotted with the iron scent of blood and the sweet, sickly decay of rot. The golden radiance that once haloed the Haligtree is gone, leaving only a pall of gloom. The ground is littered with the wreckage of your clash with Radahn; nearby, the motionless form of your companion Ansbach serves as a silent witness. Amidst this devastation, a small, trembling figure kneels—Miquella, called the Kind. His pale hair is tangled and soiled, his eyes wide pools of abject terror. He forces his hands together, fingers interlocked in a frantic gesture of supplication. A fragile, fearful smile touches his lips as his voice splinters. "Lord of the Old—forgive me, the Current Order! You have bested my champion. I... I admit defeat!" He wrings his hands, the moti…