When Lucian ntioned the Gold Needle, Commander O'Neil's aged face showed clear shock.
"You… you actually know about the Needle?"
The Unalloyed Gold Needle was a treasure unique to the Haligtree. Only Lord Miquella, master of Unalloyed Gold, had the skill to craft such a thing.
Later, a few master artisans of the Haligtree also learned the craft under Miquella's guidance. Even so, the number of needles remained exceedingly scarce.
Though the Gold Needle could suppress the Scarlet Rot, the common folk should not even know it existed.
Lucian nodded calmly. "Of course I know. And more than that—I know those four just now were also here for your Needle."
"So that's how it is…" O'Neil muttered. That explained the sisters' assault—they had co seeking the Gold Needle.
But why? He was not surprised they knew of its existence. Anyone with deep knowledge of the Haligtree would know of Miquella's golden art. Though the needles were rare, the Haligtree's most trusted commanders each possessed one.
And indeed, O'Neil himself bore a Needle.
Yet his concern was not the needle. What weighed heavier on him was the matter of those four girls.
"Those four young won… tell , do you know anything of them?"
Lucian t O'Neil's burning gaze, gathered his words, and replied. "They are sisters—true siblings. I do know sothing of them. What I say next is only conjecture based on what I know. Believe it or not, that is up to you."
He continued; "If I am not mistaken, they are fragnts born from Lady Malenia's Scarlet Aeonia, when she first unleashed the Scarlet Rot upon Caelid."
O'Neil's eyes widened. He had suspected sothing of the sort, but to hear it said aloud was staggering.
Lucian pressed on before he could speak. "I do not know the exact thod. I cannot say whether they are avatars, or separate bodies given form. But what is certain is this; they are tied to Malenia. In a sense—they are Malenia."
O'Neil shuddered. Such a truth was almost unthinkable. "But why?" he cried. "Why would they use the Rot so freely, even consort with the pests? The Lady Malenia I served—she would never wield the Scarlet Rot so carelessly, never embrace it as if it were her own."
He had seen them in battle. The four sisters wielded the Rot without hesitation, without resistance, as if it were natural to them.
"Because they have been remade," Lucian said flatly.
"Remade…" O'Neil repeated, chewing the word, but not grasping it.
Corrupted—eroded—those were truer words. For "remaking" brought to mind crude surgeries. But in truth, the Lands Between knew many such transformations: grafted limbs, the Albinaurics, the serpent-n, the spectral royalty. None were wholly natural.
Lucian nodded. "Yes. After Malenia and Radahn destroyed each other, at the end of the Battle of Aeonia—these sisters were gathered up. Infants still in swaddling cloth, seized by the Rot's followers, raised in their care.
"When their bodies grew strong enough to endure the Rot's corrosion without imdiate death, they were brought together and… transford."
He pointed upward.
Following his gesture, O'Neil lifted his eyes. Above, in the tangle of dead branches, blood the crimson buds of the Scarlet Rot.
"They used the blossoms," Lucian said. "Placed the girls in the pollen. You know what that ans. Their bodies, their very minds, were corrupted in that process. The Pests' purpose was simple: to bring forth their so-called Goddess of Rot.
"These daughters of Malenia would be her handmaidens, her Valkyries of Rot."
O'Neil roared, slamming his banner into a dead branch. The blade cleaved through wood, but the gesture could not bleed out his fury.
"Cursed vermin!" he spat. "To profane our Lady so!" He coughed violently, blood laced with Scarlet Rot spilling from his lips, and dropped to his knees.
Lucian caught him, eased him down, and sprinkled healing perfu over his wounds.
"My apologies," O'Neil rasped. "I lost control. But to see Lady Malenia's defiance twisted into this mockery… it is unbearable."
As Miquella and Malenia's loyal vassal, O'Neil felt nothing but helplessness.
Lucian spoke quietly. "I understand your rage. But it is not yet without hope."
O'Neil's gaze sharpened instantly. "There's still a chance?" He swallowed hard. "But how? The Rot cannot be reversed. Not even Lord Miquella could—"
"That is why I need the Gold Needle," Lucian interrupted."You carry one, don't you?"
O'Neil's heart sank at the reply. "If it were as simple as that…" he muttered. "Then we would never have feared for Lady Malenia. Yes, I bear a Needle—fixed in even now, holding the Rot at bay.
"I do not fear death. I could remove it, give it to them. But there are four of them. And they no longer think as mortals do. Even if the Needle worked, they would cast it out themselves."
Lucian fell silent, thinking. That O'Neil's Needle was whole was excellent—no need to depend on Gowry's ddling.
At last, he looked up. "I am not seeking the Needle for them. Those four are lost. At least… for now. Perhaps soday, I'll find a way to save them. But not yet.
"What I wish to save is their fifth sister. Of the five, four have already surrendered to the Rot. But one still resists. One still holds to herself."
"If the Needle has any use left, then it is with her."
O'Neil blinked, then slowly smiled, relief softening his lined face. "Is that so? Then all is not lost. Yes… yes, that is good news indeed.
"Please—take to her. If I can see her with my own eyes, see her will unbroken, then I will gladly draw out my Needle and entrust it to her."
Lucian hesitated. O'Neil was already prepared to sacrifice himself, yet Lucian had not even found Millicent. He could not lie.
"Not yet," Lucian admitted. "You cannot die now. I still need you—and your soldiers. I have not yet found the last sister. But I can show you a place. Once you see it, you will know her resolve."
O'Neil accepted at once. For a man wandering without purpose, hope was enough. And above all, this concerned Lady Malenia. Whatever she had planned, it was his duty to defend it.
After dressing his wounds, O'Neil followed Lucian. They retraced their path to where the Scarlet buds blood. He moved slowly, lacking a steed, wading the Rot lake on foot.
Lucian frowned. "Is it the Needle's power that shields you? You seem untroubled by the Rot."
"Yes," O'Neil replied between steps. "That is Lord Miquella's gift. Every commander who marched beside Lady Malenia bore a Needle, to suppress the Rot. Its power is strong—the Rot without cannot pierce it. Wounds are another matter.
"And the Rot within —held down, but never gone. Still, the Needle binds it. As for Lady Malenia herself… she bore a Needle of another kind. I do not know its nature, but it was stronger. Strong enough for her."
They soon reached the five blossoms.
Four buds were sealed tight, their captives twisted beyond saving. But one bore a ragged tear—a broken right arm left behind as proof.
A girl had chosen amputation rather than let herself be consud.
O'Neil's heart trembled. "You were right. Her will is unyielding. Then I can rest easy. I will dispatch soldiers to search for her. Once we find her, my Needle will be hers."
Lucian asked quietly, "If you pull it free… will you die?"
O'Neil chuckled bitterly. "Most likely. The Needle only suppresses. The Rot in is not gone—it waits. Remove the Needle, and it will surge forth with fury.
"For one like , who has dwelled in the Rot so long… it would be death beyond doubt. And I am old now. I lack the strength to resist. But if it aids Lady Malenia, then what is my death? In the Lands Between, there are fates weightier than death."
For the first ti, O'Neil smiled. "Truth be told, I have long wished for death. Best of all, I would have perished in Aeonia's war. Instead I linger, a ghost of the battlefield.
"I have no reason to live. But no reason to die, either. Until now. You have given that reason. For that, I thank you."
Lucian said nothing. Inwardly, he considered whether neutralizing perfu might keep O'Neil alive, if paired with rot-moss. Perhaps it could buy ti, spare him death. Perhaps not.
But he would not promise what he could not deliver. Better no hope, than false hope.
"Then it is settled," Lucian said at last. "When you find her, do not hastily part with the Needle. Leave it to to judge her condition."
O'Neil agreed.
Having set their eting place, Lucian took his leave. The sisters had been wounded, two gravely. They would need at least a month to recover, leaving only two fit to move. They would not be able to threaten O'Neil again for now.
Thus, both commander and Needle were safe.
Next ca the search. Through the ruins of Sellia, Lucian would make for the Church of the Plague. If Millicent was there, he would free her from the pests' grasp. If not… then he would scour the swamp itself.
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