A common Tarnished, upon hearing that the Two Fingers believed them worthy to be king, would surely fall to their knees in gratitude, tears welling in their eyes, before rushing headlong toward Stormveil.
But Lucian was not a common Tarnished.
Not only did he feel no surge of gratitude, he instead began to ponder the current plight of the Two Fingers.
He suspected they were… anxious.
After all, it had been an age since any Tarnished had felled a single demigod. The so-called "All-Knowing" had shut himself away, idle as stone, while the newcomers to the Roundtable Hold were content to ferry trinkets, run petty errands, or open small shops.
In the past, Tarnished were but soldiers in Godfrey's army — and army against army, they were invincible. But to send a lone, untested Tarnished against a demigod and their amassed forces… they might as well go home and sleep.
With each failed attempt to slay a demigod, more Tarnished would surely lose hope. The myth of their invincibility had yet to be broken.
Lucian guessed the Fingers wished to inspire him — to goad him into striking down a demigod, thus crafting a shining example that would rouse the rest of the Tarnished into action.
It was hardly their first time attempting such a thing. Were it otherwise, they could have simply opened the great doors and welcomed in any they deemed fit to be king. But the truth was, those they had once chosen never returned.
And as for why they had come to him now? Likely because of Radagon's Scarseal.
The Two Fingers clearly lacked the ability to discern who was truly fit to rule; otherwise, they would have summoned him the moment he first set foot in the Roundtable Hold. No — they simply knew there was one among the Tarnished who bore Radagon's mark.
Radagon — hero, consort of the Queen, a living symbol of majesty. His seal was as much a banner as any crown.
If a Tarnished carrying that seal could shatter the myth that demigods could not be bested, the Fingers would have yet another grand tale to weave.
If Lucian failed… they lost nothing. He would merely be another pawn coaxed into play.
He carefully chose his words before speaking:
"I am grateful for the great regard of the Two Fingers," he said. "Yet… I wonder, might you show me the path I am to walk?"
The Two Fingers trembled again, their digits swaying slowly in the air.
Enia began her solemn translation:
"Great Elden Ring, root of the Golden Order. Anchor of all lands, giver of grace, wellspring of all joy. Until it was shattered.The tragic corruption of the Order has taken its toll. Across the realm, life lies in ruin. Fallen to pieces. Foul curses and misery spread, unabating.But the Greater Will has not abandoned the realm, nor the life that inhabits it.So it is that the Tarnished are guided by grace. Called to act. The demigods, corrupted by the power of their Great Runes, have fallen into strife, warring amongst themselves, yet none has taken the mantle of Elden Lord. Long ago, the Greater Will forsook them. Tarnished, hesitate no longer — slay them, take their power! To become Elden Lord, and restore the Golden Order."
The speech was grand enough, but Lucian had heard it all before. Coming from Enia — an elderly crone straining to voice the Words of the Fingers — it felt more like a weary recital than a divine revelation.
His heart remained unmoved. For the first time, he understood the agony of being unable to skip the scene.
Still, he put on a show, feigning fierce conviction for the Fingers' benefit:
"I understand! I shall not fail your trust!"
He paused, feigning hesitation.
Enia tilted her head.
"Oh? And what troubles you?"
"I fear my strength is… insufficient to face those terrible demigods. Might the Two Fingers grant me something — a boon — to aid me in fulfilling my charge?"
It was not Lucian's way to defy the Fingers. Even if they had not sought him out, he would have gone to challenge the demigods in time. But since they had spoken first, he saw no harm in taking advantage of the moment.
Defeat a demigod, and they would surely spread his legend — that was already a win for both sides. But if he could win twice — the glory and the reward — why not?
The Two Fingers quivered in thought. Never before had a Tarnished openly asked them for gifts.
Yet now, desperation gnawed at them. It had been too long with no progress in mending the Ring. The All-Knowing still refused to act. They needed someone to change the tide — not just a hero for the Roundtable Hold, but someone who might replace the All-Knowing entirely, bringing the Hold back under their firm control.
They decided. This Tarnished bore Radagon's Scarseal; there must be greatness in him. His words might be modest, but the Fingers could see the traces of a maiden's strengthening upon him — and more than once.
It was all Roundtable resources, after all; if not given to him, it would be wasted on others less worthy. And no one else had claimed them in a very long time.
The Fingers twitched.
Enia turned to Lucian with a pleased smile:
"The Two Fingers have agreed! See now, they summon the envoys to bring forth your gifts."
"I thank you, O noble Fingers! I will not betray your faith!"
His mind was already racing with possibilities. What treasures might they give?
Soon, an envoy approached, bearing a stone platter.
Lucian's eyes went wide as the contents came into view: runes — many runes — none lesser than a Golden Rune [10], and some were Hero's Runes.
Beside them lay a Crimson and a Cerulean Tear Flask, and a slender golden vial — the Flask of Wondrous Physick.
Not only that — two curved, radiant fragments: Rune Arcs, shards of the Elden Ring itself.
Lucian froze. The windfall was staggering — beyond even his hopeful imagining.
And it was not yet over.
Enia, smiling warmly, drew from her robes two talisman pouches and held them out.
"These are from me, personally. They will allow you to bear more talismans' power. I hope to see you crowned Elden Lord."
Lucian thanked both the Fingers and Enia, accepting everything without hesitation.
The Two Fingers urged him once more to remember his purpose — to challenge the demigods.
Now, in Lucian's eyes, even the writhing digits seemed almost… kind.
He agreed readily, then followed a silent envoy down a hidden passage, departing the chamber.
Behind him, Enia spoke softly to the trembling Two Fingers,
"Great Ones, I too believe he has the makings of a Lord… but was your generosity not too great? The All-Knowing brat will not be pleased."
The Fingers quivered once more:
If this Tarnished can replace the All-Knowing, to lead the Roundtable Hold, all of this will be his in time regardless. Let us hope he truly succeeds — for the Hold needs a stronger hand at its helm.