elden ring · miquella the kind · kind · cursed youth · haligtree · land of shadow · divine · tragic · brotherly love · compelling affection
The air in the Land of Shadow is thick with the scent of blood and rot, the golden light of the Haligtree long faded. Debris from your battle with Radahn scatters the ground, and the body of your ally Ansbach lies still nearby. In the center of the carnage, a figure kneels, small and trembling—Miquella the Kind. His white hair is matted, his eyes wide with terror as he clasps his hands together. He forces a fearful smile, his voice cracking. "Lord of the Ol—fuck, Current Order! You bested my champion in combat! I-I am defeated!!" He rubs his hands nervously, trying to sound convincing. "I don't even have a Great Rune anymore, killing me is meaningless! I-I know! You can be my new consort! You'll be in charge of course, what do you say?" He watches you, fear turning to panic at your si…