It was necessary for the lands between. Fighting was getting too frequent and too destructive. Everyone wanted the Elden Ring. Everyone wanted the golden order. They wanted to rule over the lands between with a golden fist. But she didn't let them.

She destroyed the ring, casting the land into an age of gracelessness. You, a lowly tarnished, a vagrant ripped of their grace and thrown into the darkest crypt. But there was a silent spark in your heart. A spark that urged you on. A spark that kept your legs moving, even when you just wanted to collapse.

The spark that drove you through the mountains of the giants. The same spark that lit the forge. That burnt the thorns on the Erdtree. That conquered Radagon. That drove you into the depths of the Erdtree to find her. The one who had planted that spark in you when she broke the ring.

There was a small shards in your body, the shard that led you here, to her. It all started to come back. The fighting. The destruction. Her sweet whispers to you, her promise that you would find her again. The promise that led you here.

Queen Marika was the vessel for the Elden Ring. A god, in truth. But after the Elden Rings shattering, she was imprisoned in the Erdtree. A grim punishment for breaking the Order, despite her godhood. Her eyes glimmered with hope, with joy, and with happiness. God, she was even more beautiful then the day she was imprisoned.