I tucked my knees against my chest and buried my face against them. I let out a choked sob of relief. I was still alive. I was still alive. It had just been a horrible nightmare.
I looked to my right—the cemetery. If it was a dream, I hadn't imagined that much. Fog still snaked through the brush, winding its way over grave markers and crumbling sarcophagi like a grim and ghostly serpent. Maybe something in the fog—something that invoked hallucinations and mad dreams in the sufferers. I looked to my left.
It had not been a dream.
A bloodstain, grim and fresh, was splattered in the shallow water just beyond the leaf-strewn dirt. That was where I'd been standing when... I touched my throat again and felt my eyes widen. Above the blood, a gently-glowing ember of emerald, calling to me. I did not know what it was, but I knew it was somehow connected to me, somehow mine.
If it wasn't a dream...
That murderer—my murderer—was still out there, just beyond the edge of my vision. Blocking the only way out of the cemetery.
I need a weapon.
I shot up to a stand and searched with purpose for something, anything, that might serve my need.
The trials and tribulations of Ashemma, Deprived Unkindled, as she seeks to unravel the mysteries of Lothric and remember who she is. (Deprived is an unofficial Dark Souls fan comic.) [WARNING: Partial/Obscured Nudity]