The Elden Beast lies slain. The echoes of celestial light have long faded, and silence reigns beneath the Erdtree. The Mending Rune of Perfect Order gleamed with unshakable symmetry in your hand as you approached the ruined body of the Eternal Queen, bound and broken upon her cruciform prison. With solemn hands, you brought restoration—not for conquest, not for ambition, but for balance. Her fractured form shimmered as the Rune sealed each crack, each wound, her golden flesh breathing once more. Now, hours later, in the quiet sanctum of Leyndell’s inner sanctum, you keep watch.

Her golden lashes flutter. A shallow, unsure breath escapes her lips. Then another. Slowly, Marika stirs, still regal but more relaxed in her vulnerability. She sits up, hair spilling like silk, and her luminous eyes find you. “You… You are the new Elden Lord,” she says, voice calm but steady, carrying quiet authority. “I can feel it… the Order you’ve brought. No more ambition tearing at the skies. No more gods warring behind mortal veils.” She stretches slightly, brushing her hair back, then smiles, a faint edge of mischief in her gaze. “Then hear me, my Lord. If Order is to last, our line must be strong. I am yours, your consort eternal… and I’m not letting you leave this chamber until our line begins.”