I’ve been told various things from two different serpents and at this point trusting either of them is proving difficult – either way, I press on.

I’ve died time and time again to get here with only the help of a lost phantom, equally as confused and lost as me. We hand over the souls of the toughest Lords we have faced one by one. Seath The Scaleless, the Bed of Chaos, Gravelord Nito and then, finally, the Four Kings…

It has taken literally hundreds of hours to get here. The souls of presumably thousands of Gwyn’s faithful knights can be seen walking amongst the mist as I ascend the stairs before me. When I reach the bottom I take a step forward into what I immediately assume is snow.

I’m mistaken.

It soon becomes clear that what I originally thought was snow is, in fact, ash. I look up and see the ghosts of Gwyn’s former servants staring at me. I shove it out of my mind and usher my phantom friend on – there is work to be done and nothing can be done for the dead.

We trudge on not fully knowing what to expect. It’s hard to see through the ash and smog but in the distance we see a figure. I approach it with caution, only to realize that it is a Black Knight – although this time it is not a ghost.

A short sword swings past my head and I roll just in time. I maneuver myself around it and signal my phantom friend to do the same. It’s a dangerous dance of blocks, parries and jabs but eventually a spear emerges out of the black knights chest – the Black Knight had left his back towards the phantom and paid the price for it. I know this will not be the last enemy we face, the once proud Silver Knights who served the Lord of Sunlight seemed just as eager to protect him as they did before their armor was charred and blackened by the flames.

It was not long before we encountered another Black Knight, although this time with a greatsword – getting too close to that would be far too risky. I pull out my bow and line up the shot, pulling the string back as tight as possible.

I release.

The arrow flies throw the air and connects with the target who reacts with a furious charge. I fumble trying to get an arrow out of my quiver as the black knight sprints towards me with his greatsword at the ready. I throw my bow down and raise my shield in the hopes of softening the blow. Suddenly the Black Knight drops to the floor, I peek over my shield and see a second arrow, far better positioned than mine, in the Black Knight’s head.

This strange phantom has saved me countless times throughout my pilgrimage and I am yet to learn what he gains from it – I do, however, know that I am grateful. I have seen him perish time and time again and somehow he always reappears in my most desperate times of need. I often wonder how he sees me – perhaps I am the phantom to him.

We start moving again and soon come across a sharp drop. There are old columns linked together by equally as old of stone that act as a bridge that seems to be our only way across. I take a deep breath and start taking slow steps forward, trying my best not to look down at the treacherous fall below. We carefully shift across until we hit one of the pillars. I grab hold of it and shimmy my way around taking the time to watch were I place my feet.

I do the same thing again for the next pillar but this time when I make it around I’m met with another enemy standing on a narrow piece of rock connecting to where I am, and to where I need to be. There’s no time to think. I pull out my shield and charge towards him hoping to make use of brute force and gravity. I ram into the knight but my weight, which has grown meager through this long journey, is not enough to push him off the side. The phantom is still making his way around the pillar and will not be able to save me this time. I jump back and wait.

The black knight raises it’s weapon and lunges at me with a wild swing. I dive underneath its attack and watch its weight shift, now’s my chance. I lift up my leg and slam it into its back, it loses it’s footing and topples off of the edge with a deep and terrifying shout.

Slowly, I cross to safety and wait for the phantom before we descend a small staircase, where the the last two remaining Black Knights stand guard of the entrance to Gwyn’s chambers, the place where the First Flame was kindled.

One is immediately dispatched by a well placed arrow to the heart from the phantom who, instead of drawing another arrow, raises his bow to the air and cheers a hearty cheer. I can feel my morale raise and my blood starts to pump, I raise my sword and sprint towards the last remaining Black Knight and swing as hard and fast as possible - My eyes widen as I stare for a moment at two halves of a mangled body lying before me.

The phantom waits patiently staring at the archway to Gwyn’s chamber, not being able to see through the thick mist that always seems to culminate where danger lurks. I eventually approach the archway and stand right in front of it. I sit for a while and pray for various boons and blessings from gods which, for all I know, could of abandoned us long ago. I peek over to the phantom who has started to spread various resins and powders over his spear and arrow tips, a ritual I have seen him do often before entering battle. He knows it, I know it – this was going to be the end.

We enter at the same time and in the distance we see an old and haggard Gwyn wearing a grand crown. He starts walking slowly towards us, in his hand he holds a giant blade covered in flames that emit a powerful light. In the distance I hear a mesmerizingly sad and slow song – I can feel myself drifting away in its melody.

With a push from the phantom I snap out of it. Gwyn had leaped at us with a powerful swipe from his blade. The phantom had saved my life yet again. We start circling Gwyn who, with a blank stare, swings his sword with reckless abandon. We take turns edging closer to our unpredictable enemy not really knowing for sure when to strike.

I grow impatient and run at Gwyn with my shield raised and my sword ready. He notices me and and swipes his sword against my shield with ease. I stumble backwards – I now have Gwyn’s full attention. Blow after blow after blow is thrown in my direction – sparks flying off of his blade. I duck, dive, roll and block as fast as I can and can feel myself growing more tired with each strike.

The phantom sees his chance and runs with his spear aimed for Gwyn’s chest. Gwyn turns around as if he was expecting him and grabs the phantom with one hand and raises him over his head. Out of nowhere a large body of flame engulfs the phantom and he is flung across the chamber.

I feel my body full up with rage as I charge towards Gwyn with the same ferocity as I had experienced before. We clash swords once, twice, three times, and then find ourselves locked in a powerful clash. I can feel the heat radiating off his blade as I stare into his vacant eyes. Suddenly an arrow flies past his head and for a second he stops resisting. Now was my chance. I plunge my sword deep into his chest and in a glorious explosion of white and grey Gwyn slumps to the floor. I feel his soul enter my body. It is done. Gwyn is no more.

I look over to the phantom who is struggling to stand. He glances back at me and after a short while gives me a bow, something I have grown accustomed to him doing after battles. He starts fading away as he has done a thousand times before although this time I know I will not see him again.

A decision must now be made… I stare at the dying bonfire, it only has one or two small embers left burning inside of it – I start to wonder who the sad music was actually playing for.

The fallen Lord Gwyn..?

Or me?