When Lucian saw the faint tremor ripple through the frozen dragon's pupil, he was utterly taken aback.
This dragon was sealed completely within thick, unyielding ice—gods only knew how many years it had slumbered here. And yet, it still lived?
How could that be possible? There was neither air nor sustenance in this frozen tomb. Under such conditions, could anything truly be called alive?
The Ancient Dragons… were they truly creatures of this world?
Lucian steadied his breath and began his attempt to thaw it.
For ice capable of imprisoning an Ancient Dragon, it could not possibly be ordinary. Yet, if he used the Sun's full blaze, it might prove too fierce, and he feared the creature within would be harmed.
So, to test the frost's strength, he began with blackflame—its corruptive fire licking the icy surface.
But even that was beyond his expectations.
The blackflame sputtered out upon contact, unable to melt even the thinnest layer. Not a single droplet formed.
Lucian frowned, and switched to sunlight—the gentler flame of life. The ice began to soften, but only faintly, as if resisting the light itself.
Realizing its toughness, Lucian stopped holding back. He called forth the full might of the Solar Incantation—the Sun's wrath incarnate.
A blazing corona of fire burst forth, and the glacial walls began to melt at last, the frost retreating visibly before his divine heat.
The results were immediate and astonishing.
Lucian leapt onto the dragon's head and began melting from there. The creature's sheer size was staggering, like a living mountain. Even as he stood upon it, he seemed no larger than an insect.
For the first time, Lucian invoked the Sun's gift with his full strength. A blazing orb formed in his hand, swelling as it rose—until a miniature sun burned within the frozen vault.
Golden light bathed the entire underground chamber, scattering the shadows of eternity.
Raising his hands in reverence, Lucian assumed the pose of "Praise the Sun". The flame within him roared to life, burning even his own flesh.
His blood ignited—flesh and soul as fuel for the divine flame. The miniature sun burned brighter still, so radiant that no mortal eyes could gaze upon it directly.
Under that light, the surrounding frost shrieked and retreated. Ice shattered in torrents, and from beneath emerged the dragon's colossal head—its rock-like scales glistening beneath sunlight for the first time in ages.
The divine fire's brilliance stripped away the silvery "mystery" that clung to all beneath the Eternal City, returning the dragon's scales to their natural, ancient hue.
Then—
"—Haaah!"
The instant the ice shattered, the dragon opened its vast jaws, devouring the air itself.
Its first breath was a tempest. Wind screamed through the chamber, hurling shards of ice and mist into a storm.
Each inhale was like a hurricane swallowing the world; the dragon's hunger for air was so primal, so desperate, that the very air seemed to tremble in submission.
The breathing lasted for minutes—deep, resonant, endless.
Then, with air once more filling its lungs, its heart began to beat anew.
That sound—ancient, immense—echoed like thunder beneath the land.
The dragon flexed its body, and ice cracked away in cascades.
It unfurled its four colossal wings, their span vast enough to shroud half the chamber in shadow.
Steam rose from the melting frost as the warmth of sunlight washed over its resurrected form—heat and cold colliding in perfect contrast.
At last, when its breath steadied, the storm abated.
Lucian stood atop the dragon's head, watching until it finally calmed, before descending before it.
The Ancient Dragon lowered its head, eyes focused upon the one who had freed it.
From its maw came a guttural, trembling roar—then, words.
"Grrr… graa… thank… you…"
The voice was neither male nor female—just a low, resonant echo from a throat that had not spoken in millennia.
The exhale alone was so powerful that it tousled Lucian's hair.
Lucian nodded, relieved. "You can still speak. That's a good sign."
Though dragons were ageless, surviving endless epochs without madness, being imprisoned was another matter entirely.
To be trapped, frozen, and isolated for centuries… even immortality could wither under such solitude.
Lucian met the dragon's ancient gaze.
"I have many questions," he said. "If you can speak, will you answer them?"
The dragon inclined its head, lowering itself into a resting pose, its massive claws crossed beneath its chin.
"Ask, then. To my savior, I shall speak honestly."
Lucian thought for a moment. "First, your name."
"I am Selinsax," rumbled the dragon.
"Selinsax… why were you here, sealed within the Nox's vault? Were you captured?"
The dragon rumbled lowly, its scales grinding like stone.
"That… is a long story."
Grinding its fangs, Selinsax began:
"Long ago, I spread the faith of the Ancient Dragons within the Nox Dynasty. I lived in Nokron for many years.
Their people did not easily accept our faith—here, they worshipped the Dark Moon. But in time, we coexisted well enough.
They were fascinated by the dragon's form and lightning. I, in turn, was intrigued by their strange lifeforms and experiments.
So, we made a trade.
They gained my knowledge—and from me, they learned to weave lightning into the bodies of their Silver Tears."
Lucian's eyes widened. "So the thunder wrapped around those Silver Tears was your teaching…"
It was unexpected, but understandable.
Eternal beings often acted on whims mortals could never fathom. For them, curiosity was reason enough.
"What happened then?" Lucian asked. "Why did they imprison you?"
Selinsax's tone turned bitter.
"I was observing their study of the Mimic Tear, when creatures of the stars descended upon Nokron—unfathomable beings of the cosmos.
They destroyed everything. Countless star-born horrors, tearing through the Eternal City."
Selinsax paused, claws scraping against the frozen ground.
"I prepared to leave. I owed them nothing, after all. I came only to share our faith.
But every path of escape was sealed by those star-born fiends. To fight through them alone was impossible.
The Nox researchers brought me here, claiming this place was safe—that the concentrated mystery and the ice would preserve us in slumber until the crisis passed.
They said someone would awaken us, one day."
The dragon's eyes dimmed.
"No one ever came."
"All those Nox… broke their promise."
Lucian frowned slightly. "Whether they lied or not, it no longer matters. Nokron itself has been utterly destroyed."
Selinsax blinked slowly. "Destroyed…?"
Lucian nodded. "Yes. In that very same invasion you mentioned—the star-born descended, and the city fell. Only ruins remain."
The dragon turned, gazing toward the other frozen creatures entombed nearby.
"…How pitiful. Such a mighty kingdom, gone to dust."
Silence lingered before Selinsax spoke again.
"May I ask, what is the world like now?"
Lucian hesitated. How could one explain an age so far removed from their own?
"If you were sealed since the fall of the Nox Dynasty," he said softly, "then… a very long time has passed."
He continued:
"After the Nox fell, the Age of the Erdtree began. The Golden Order rose, and the world changed."
"The Golden Tree's forces waged war across the Lands Between, they annihilated the Fire Giants of the Mountaintops, married into the Carian Royal Family of Liurnia, and even fought the dragons… before forging peace."
"They crushed the Storm King's forces in Limgrave, and finally, under Queen Marika, the Elden Ring was revealed—the foundation of the Golden Order's law."
Lucian paused, then sighed.
"But that age too has ended. The Golden Order now lies in ruin. The Elden Ring itself has shattered, and countless demigods vie for its fragments in endless war."
Selinsax listened silently, scales shimmering faintly under the pale light.
It took some time for her to comprehend the story—but eventually, she nodded.
"So… the Golden Tree rules the Lands Between now," she murmured.
Her gaze drifted, contemplative. "The Fire Giants, I know. And Limgrave's storm lords—those were disciples of dragonkind, worshippers of our ancient ways."
"To think the dragons warred with this Golden Tree, only to become their allies…" She shook her massive head. "That is hard to imagine."
"Especially since dragons are not a unified race. Not since our king, Placidusax, was wounded."
"After losing our lord's guidance, most dragons lived alone, scattered across the world."
Then, as realization struck her, Selinsax's eyes flared wide.
"Wait… that war with the Golden Tree—was it led by our Dragonlord himself!?"
Lucian shook his head slowly.
"Unfortunately… no."
"The one who led the dragons was the Ancient Dragon, Fortissax."
"As far as I know," Lucian said slowly, "other renowned dragons who joined that war included Lansseax and the siblings Fortissax and Lansseax. As for the Dragonlord himself—he never appeared."
Selinsax fell silent for a long while.
It seemed, after all, she should not have held too much hope.
Still, if it was the great dragon Gransax and the siblings; Fortissax and Lansseax who led the war, then it was no wonder the ancient dragons had united against the Erdtree. Whether it was Gransax or the siblings, they were among the mightiest of the ancient kind—beings whose influence far outstripped her own.
"In my slumber," she murmured, "it seems the Lands Between have undergone far more change than I ever imagined."
Then, lifting her golden eyes toward Lucian, she asked, "May I know… how long has it been since the destruction of Nokron?"
Lucian shook his head.
"That, I don't know. Much of history in the Lands Between has been lost to time. I only know that countless years have passed—but whether it's been a thousand, or ten thousand, I cannot say."
Selinsax regarded him quietly. "Come to think of it, I don't yet know your name, my savior."
Clearing his throat, Lucian replied, "I am Lucian, Storm King of Limgrave and Stormveil, one of those who pursue the throne of Elden Lord."
"I see…" Selinsax tilted her head, then hesitated. "Do you have plans for what comes next?"
She hesitated a moment more, then spoke timidly, "Would it be possible for me to see the surface… to witness the state of the world now?"
Lucian sighed. "To be honest, the world above is chaos incarnate. Still, if you wish to come to Stormveil, you're welcome. If it pleases you, you may stay by my side, and in doing so, repay the debt you feel you owe me."
Selinsax lowered her massive head. "I am deeply grateful."
Lucian reached up to touch the rough stone of her scaled head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "By the way, how did you even fit into this chamber in the first place?"
The dragon rumbled softly. "We Ancient Dragons possess the ability to assume human form. It is usually only temporary, however. To permanently take human shape is something few of my kind would ever choose."
As she finished speaking, Selinsax unfurled her vast wings. Beneath them, Lucian noticed glimmering veins of golden flesh.
She wrapped her four wings tightly around herself, light seeping through the gaps—and from within that radiance, a human silhouette slowly emerged.
Lucian blinked, stunned.
A dragon maiden…?
And—wait, was that… the Fire Keeper?
Her pale-gold hair was braided neatly behind her, shimmering as she moved. Her skin was as white as snow, carrying an otherworldly glow. The pure white robes she wore resembled those of a priestess—holy, immaculate—yet their fit traced a graceful, almost distracting silhouette. Behind her sprouted four small, folded wings, and a long, golden tail brushed the floor.
Lucian couldn't help but praise inwardly: A grand treasure chest before me—no matter how I hold it, I cannot overcome it!
Truly, her appearance was astonishingly similar to that of the Fire Keeper from Dark Souls III—almost as if carved from the same mold. The only difference was her pristine white garments… and that she possessed both eyes.
Those golden slit pupils now gazed calmly at Lucian.
"This," she said softly, "is the form I take when in human guise. In the past, it was with this face that I spread the faith of the ancient dragons. What do you think?"
Lucian nodded in satisfaction—yes, very pleasing to the eyes indeed.
"This will do."
Though, admittedly, his gaze had trouble not wandering toward her… prominent features.
He shook his head—no, this couldn't continue. He could already sense Melina's silent, judging presence pressing close behind him.
Turning away from temptation, he glanced around. The miniature sun he had summoned earlier was still radiating heat, melting the remaining ice. Within the thawing frost, other beings were slowly being released from their long imprisonment.
There were many kinds.
Crystalians that Lucian had seen before; massive giants covered in molten horns, even larger than the trolls of the mountains; and beyond them, countless smaller forms—Nox and Nightfolk alike—perhaps the very scholars and researchers Selinsax had spoken of earlier.
They had frozen themselves alongside her, believing this chamber to be a sanctuary. Or perhaps it had been meant as a biological archive—a vault preserving life through an age of calamity.
Unfortunately, whatever contingency they had arranged had long since failed. No one had come to awaken them. Even the key to this place had somehow fallen into the hands of the Cuckoos.
Lucian wondered how those Cuckoos had even survived in the Eternal City. He suspected the key hadn't originally been theirs to begin with.
The Nox and Nightfolk, being smaller in stature, were encased in thinner ice—and thus, they thawed first.
But when Lucian went to check on them, he found their bodies lifeless.
Selinsax looked upon the tiny corpses of those who had once lived in her era, and a trace of sorrow clouded her face.
It seemed this form of cryostasis carried severe side effects—or perhaps it was never meant to preserve the living for so long.
Only her immense vitality as an Ancient Dragon had allowed her to survive the ages.
Lucian sighed, scanning the chamber. Many of the creatures had melted free from their icy prisons, yet almost none lived.
Bodies collapsed one after another upon the stone floor, and he still had no idea what to do with so many dead.
However, he did notice one creature that, like Selinsax, still clung to life.
It was an enormous wolf.
Standing nearly three meters at the shoulder, its sheer size dwarfed even the Giant Dogs of Caelid—it made them look like mere pups.
Upon its head grew four spiral horns like those of the Forge creatures, and beneath its greenish fur lay a sheen of fine scales, giving it a strange, lapis-blue glow.
This wolf appeared to be the only other survivor besides Selinsax—but its strength was failing fast.
Having broken free from the ice, it collapsed to the ground, wheezing raggedly.
Lucian knelt beside it, placing his hand upon its body and channeling the healing warmth of sunlight.
Gradually, the creature's breathing steadied. It managed to lift itself slightly, resting on its belly, and turned its gaze toward Lucian, a look of unmistakable gratitude in its eyes.
Then its body began to tremble violently.
Its abdomen contracted in painful spasms, and low growls of agony escaped its throat.
Lucian frowned. "What now…?"
It looked bad. He poured more of the Sun's warmth into the creature, doing everything he could to aid it.
Moments later, with one final shudder, the great wolf let out a deep roar—and from beneath it, a large blue-green egg rolled free.
When it was over, the wolf did not look toward its offspring. Instead, it turned its eyes to Lucian once more, pleading silently.
Lucian met its gaze and gave a firm nod, lifting the enormous egg into his arms.
At that, the wolf exhaled one final breath and went still.
Lucian sighed, gazing down at the egg that was nearly half his height.
"…What am I supposed to do with this?"
He scratched his head helplessly. No one had ever told him how to raise a wolf that lays eggs.
Turning toward Selinsax, he asked, "You were imprisoned here together. Do you have any idea what species this is?"
The dragon maiden tilted her head, thinking deeply.
"Hm… I have only faint memories. I believe this is a powerful and rare breed of wolf—one said to share its origins with the Ancestral Spirits. In fact, it's closer to them than to ordinary wolves."
She paused, her tone softening. "Though they share a common ancestry, they also fight one another—battling for the right to become the true master of life and death."
Selinsax gently touched the surface of the great egg, its shell marked with intricate azure patterns.
"But I never expected their reproduction to be like this… I recall a few Nox scholars mentioning that such creatures were rarely seen to breed. It's said that when a new life is born, the old one dies immediately."
She withdrew her hand, looking at the fallen wolf with quiet reverence.
"It is a lifeform born from death itself, new life springing from the stillness of its predecessor. And it is said they entrust their newborns only to those they deem worthy."
"That's… all I know."
Lucian looked down at the blue-green egg in his arms. Its surface shimmered faintly under the light.
He sighed. "Well… looks like I'll have to hatch it, then."
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"When it's born… maybe I'll call it Sif. Saves me the trouble of thinking up a name."
—
[T/N: The Fire Keeper of Dark Souls III tends to Firelink Shrine and serves the Ashen One throughout their long and arduous journey. She is a blind maiden of unknown origin; she was, at the time, the current Fire Keeper that tended to the flame when the Ashen One arrived at the Firelink Shrine to fulfill their duty. She dons a white crown that covers her eyes, and a black robe, as well as black gloves. Like all fire keepers, she can transform souls into raw power. Among the many figures of the Dark Souls series, she stands out as a particularly memorable presence, perhaps even a favorite, though I admit my fondness may be influenced by her resemblance to Jeanne d'Arc. ]