for this, he put me up to it. Any and all complaints should be sent to his address. With that out of the way, opening chapter, then some words from yours truly to answer some questions, yes? Let's dive in.
Your eyes snap open as you awaken with a gasp, your body veering upright while your hands reach up to clutch at your throat for some reason. Your heart is beating wild and your breath comes in panicky, desperate fast gasps. Sweat trickles down your brow, caused by the irrational, overwhelming sense of
fear that fills your entire being. You look around with wide, wild eyes, trying to spot the danger that has to be the source of all this dread.
It takes a while for it to settle in that there is no danger anywhere you can see. Even longer for you to realise that you have no idea where you are.
You are sitting in a field of soft grass and that's about all you can tell, for anything beyond a stone throw's radius of where you are is shrouded by a thick, impenetrable fog. At first you think this fog is the reason for your distress, that you fear the things that might be hiding within the mist, but the longer you stare into it, the more you realise this is not the case. Strange as it might seem, the fog does not feel threatening to you and you are somehow certain that there is nothing in there waiting to pounce on you.
Slowly, as time passes on during which nothing happens, your breathing and body settle down as the panic fades. It would seem that for the moment you are safe and out of immediate danger. Now that you are no longer preoccupied with survival, your mind is free to turn to other matters, such as where you are or how you came to be here.
You pull your knees to your chest and hug them. Bowing your head and closing your eyes, you dive into your memory in search of answers. What is the last thing you remember?
You are Tomoe Mami. A veteran magical girl living in Mitakihara and you were… What were you doing? You recall Kaname Madoka came to get you, something about a grief seed? You frown, rubbing your temples as you push your mind harder. You went with Madoka to Sayaka, then entered a barrier to fight a Witch. The frown on your face deepens. Was Akemi Homura there as well? It's all so unclear, like watching a movie that has gaps in the filmstrip.
Regardless of whether or not the other magical girl was present, you do remember fighting the witch's minions and feeling elated because Madoka had declared to you her intentions to become a magical girl as well and fight at your side, meaning you wouldn't be alone anymore. Then you fought the Witch, a little doll thing and then… and then… What then?
You focus as hard as you can on the memory of the Witch. A brief image of teeth flashes through your mind for some reason, before pain explodes in your head, making you wince. You remember a feeling of incomprehensibly immense, primal fear, the same fear you felt when you woke up, then… darkness.
Instinctively, your hands reach for your soul gem, only to find that it isn't there.
A cold feeling of dread settles in the pit of your stomach. A glance at your clothes reveals that you're wearing your school uniform. Your soul gem is missing. Your last memories are of fighting a Witch, without remembering defeating it, a flash of pain and fear and then nothing, after which you woke up in a strange field shrouded in fog. Almost as if you di-
No.
No no no.
NonononononoNONONONONO!!!
Your eyes are wide in panic, your pupils shrunken into tiny pinpricks. You struggle to breathe, your chest constricted painfully as if held in a vice grip, your lungs burning as your body is starting to hyperventilate but you can't breathe and you're not getting any air and it just makes you panic even more and more and this can't be happening-!
A gentle, soothing melody fills the air.
Effortlessly it breaks through the panicked haze that clouds your mind and suddenly you can breathe again. You find yourself enraptured by the music, compelled to simply sit back and listen, which you do without even the slightest hint of resistance. Your eyes fall shut again as you let yourself drift along with the melody.
It is a calming, simple in structure yet rich with powerful emotion. It feels soothing to your very soul yet there is an unmistakable undertone of sorrow to it as well. You can feel it, as unmistakable as you can feel your own sorrow and grief. The music reverberates with your heart, touches you into your deepest self as it wordlessly sings a song of mourning. There is no bitterness, no regret, only acceptance and lamenting of the grief that comes with living.
A song of healing. Healing for the soul.
You don't know how long you sit there, lost within that beautiful sound, but when you open your eyes again you feel calm once more, the panic and nausea that had threatened to overwhelm you having been gently washed away.
You climb to your feet and turn yourself in the direction the music is coming from. You stare into the fog, as if trying to make it part through sheer force of will, but your vision remains as obfuscated as before. Still the music plays and you feel an urge within you to find where it is coming from, like the sound is a hand that beckons you to follow. In any other circumstances, you might have been suspicious of something beautiful but unknown luring you into a thick mist that could be hiding all kinds of danger, but somehow in this case you do not feel wary.
Perhaps that in itself could be seen as alarming, but you ignore it and step into the fog.
Time loses all meaning within the mist, with the music slowly growing louder being the only way to tell that you are actually making progress. So it comes as somewhat of a surprise when you suddenly find yourself in a clearing, standing at the edge of what appears to be a ruin of sorts.
Once it must have been a great, magnificent building, but now all that remains is a circle of stones amidst the grass with a few remaining crumbling walls and pieces of masonry scattered across the field. A tall bonfire burns in the middle of the circle, its orange flames dancing merrily and bathing the clearing in a warm, inviting light. A fallen pillar lies next to the fire, upon which sits a lonely figure.
It is a woman, with long silvery white hair and dressed in a long white robe, simple but elegant in its design, with golden filigree, and a light grey cloak draped over her shoulders. Her face is delicate, her skin smooth and peerless, but her eyes are hidden behind an ornate golden band that spans her head. In her hands she holds a harp, her fingers plucking the strings with all the confidence and finesse of a master harpist, creating the melody that has guided you here.
For a moment you simply stare at the sight, your feet seemingly rooted in place. Of all the things you had expected to find, this was not one of them and you are unsure of how to react. The woman doesn't seem to have noticed you - you aren't even sure if she can see you with that gold band covering her eyes - and keeps playing her harp, the music more clear and beautiful to your ears than ever now that you are at its source.
You wonder what to do next. The bonfire looks warm and inviting, but you are wary of the woman's presence. Harmless though she seems, experience has taught you that appearances can be most deceiving, as your most recent brush with a Witch so kindly reminded you.
You are still debating on your course of action, when the woman at the fire suddenly raises her head and looks right at you. The music fades as her fingers stop caressing the harp strings.
"Thou'st met with a terrible fate, hast thou not?"
You find your hands clutching your throat again in unbidden response to these words. You swallow hard and feel a shiver run down your spine. Suddenly, the fire no longer looks so warm or inviting.
The woman gives you a genuine apologetic smile. "Fear not, I mean thee no harm." She places her harp in her lap, moves somewhat to the side of the pillar she sits on, then gestures at the spot she just vacated. "Come, weary soul, warm thineself at the fire."
You hesitate, but only briefly, for you can detect no deception in her words nor in her voice. You enter the ruins, alert but not wary, and take place next to the woman on the pillar. The warmth of the fire washes over you and seems to soothe you much the same way the music did earlier.
Together, you and the woman sit in amicable silence for a while, content to simply bask in the light of the flames.
Eventually, however, you find that your many questions cannot go unanswered any longer. You turn your head to the woman.
"Who are you?" you had to ask.
The woman gently pushes some of the bonfire's logs around. "I am both a memory and an idea. A firekeeper in dream and a dreamer in the fire. A tenant was I, once, of the first flame, but now I keep only the sparks that remain..." she muses, then gives you a long look. "Perhaps thou couldst draw more sparks, those lights lost in this darkness?"
You bow your head to stare at your hands. Nonsensical though the woman's words may sound, somehow you find meaning in them, confirmation of your suspicions as to your own nature. Unconsciously, your hands clutch around your throat again, as the memory of that dreadful, all encompassing fear flashes through your mind again.
"These sparks…" you begin. "They are people who… who d-died?"
The Keeper picks up her harp again, her fingers strumming idly amongst the strings. Only now that you are right next to her can you see that both her hands are burnt.
"They are… lost," is all she says.
You bite your lip. You are afraid to ask your next question, but you
have to know.
"Am I… Am I dead?"
Your eyes are closed as you wait with growing dread and fear for the answer, so you are surprised when you feel a warm hand place itself atop your clenched fists. You open your eyes to see the Keeper staring at you, somehow, despite the headband that hides her eyes.
"I fear thou couldst not be here otherwise." She pats your hands. "I am sorry."
Your hands are trembling, no, your entire body is shaking.
"T-then… I'm really…" you begin, but words fail you and you can say no more. Now you understand why you could not remember anything that happened after you fought the Witch: because there was nothing
to remember. You lost. You died.
You, Tomoe Mami, killed by a Witch, somehow, after all those years, after all the times you warned and taught other magical girls to never underestimate their foes…
Your eyes widen in panic and you gasp. Madoka and Sayaka, they were there with you, weren't they? Meaning not only did they see you lose, see you
die, but with you gone, there would have been nobody to protect them from the Witch! Unless somehow they got saved by someone else, that means your failure caused the death of two innocent girls that were not a part of this! You-
The music starts to play and the haze of pain and fear on your mind lifts once more
.
You look to the side to see the Keeper has taken up her harp again. As her delicate fingers pluck at the strings, she keeps her gaze locked on you, hidden though it is behind her mask.
"Thou bearest a heavy burden," she says, sound sad and compassionate. "It pains me to see in one as young as thee, but more so it is the familiarity of it that makes my heart ache. The pain of regret, of dreams unfulfilled, of a life not lived…" The light of the bonfire makes the gold of her headband shimmer. "Tell me, child, dost thou desire to return? To live the days that were thy due, but ended before their time?"
You stare at the woman, uncomprehending. "R-return?" you stammer. "I'm… I'm
dead!" You hesitate, uncertainty claiming you. With a small voice you add: "... aren't I?"
The Keeper stares into the fire, still playing her beautiful, mournful song.
"A long time ago, when my dream was still young, there came here another," she begins. "I remember him well, for he was most peculiar, but also most kind. I believe he was a merchant of some sorts, though my mind fails me as to his wares. I remember his laughter was warm, if somewhat strange to my ears…"
You stare at the Keeper, uncertain as to the relevance or meaning of this tale.
"More so than kind and peculiar, however, he was also very wise. Though I remember not how we came to speak of it, I recall one thing he said most clearly." She turns her head back to you. "He said that whenever a meeting taketh place, a parting is sure to follow. However, that parting, as partings are wont to do, need not last forever..."
You frown, still failing to understand her meaning. Or rather, you understand it, and it is a beautiful sentiment to be sure, but you don't quite see how it applies to your current situation, and you tell her so.
"I can't just… decide to come back to life," you say, though for some reason you find doubt creeping into your words, as baffling as it seems. "That's not how it works."
The Keeper tilts her head again, thinking. "Is death not a parting?" she asks.
"In a sense," you admit.
"Then thou hast a choice. If thou feelest that thou hast been robbed of days rightfully thine, thou couldst seek to reclaim them, if thou art willing. But if thou art content with thy lot, or seekest thine grief and pain to cease, then that, too, is a path for thou to take."
"Content?" you repeat. "You mean, if I have no regrets? What would happen then?"
"Only that which thou desirest to happen," the Keeper replies. "Thou couldst remain here, a while or forever more, if thou so chosest. Or thou couldst go onward, to further beyond."
"And where would that take me?" you ask, almost automatically.
The Keeper gives you a knowing smile. "Further beyond."
You wait for her to elaborate, but she does not and you soon realise she never will. It seems that is one answer you will have to discover for yourself, but you are not certain you even want to. If you have no regrets, the Keeper said, but you have so many. So many things you still wanted to get done, so many things you still wanted to say. To your parents, to Kyubey, to Madoka and Sayaka…
To Kyoko.
You shake your head, even as tears run down your face. It hurts, to think about them, a pain that not even the mournful, soothing notes of the Keeper's harp can't ease. There is a way, however, the older woman told you that much. A way to make it stop, to shake off the regrets
and the pain, alongside everything else weighing you down.
You're not sure you want that, though.
You don't want to
forget, or to fade, or whatever it is that would happen. You want to go back, to fix it, to do all those things you regret not doing. But you can't. You're dead. You let your guard down and were punished for it. All because you were happy at the prospect of having someone by your side again.
"I just… I just didn't want to be alone anymore," you sob. "W-was that so wrong that I had to d-die?!"
The music fades as the Keeper puts down her harp again. She folds her hands in her lap, then turns to you with a most serious expression on her face.
"If thou couldst return, to take up thine life's thread from whence it was cut short… wouldst thou thou be willing, if given the chance?" she asks, for the second time.
You swallow hard as you think it over.
"I… I think so," is your answer. "But I don't see how-"
"If that be thine heart's desire," the Keeper interrupts you, "there is a proposal I would make to thee, a course of action thou couldst take that would be to our combined benefit, if thou wouldst be willing to lend me thine ear?"
You look up at the woman with a tearstained face, your blurred eyes suddenly warry. Intentional or not, the Keeper's words ring hauntingly familiar in your ears, and not in a good way. Unwillingly, memories you'd rather not relive are dredged up from within your mind, of an awful moment in your life when you were given a similar offer to cheat death. A moment that gained you a friend, but also regret you carried with you for the rest of your days.
Unconsciously, you find yourself backing away from the other woman.
"I apologise, I meant not to cause thee distress, child," the Keeper says upon noticing your reaction. She reaches out, slowly so as to not startle you, and gently places her hand atop of yours. "I spoke as I did merely because it is both my nature and purpose to provide aid and solace to lost souls such as thine. Whether or not thou wishest to accept my aid is entirely for thee to decide and I will not begrudge thee either way."
You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself. She certainly sounds sincere and seems to genuinely want to help, but years of caution stemming from life as a magical girl keep you wary. You stare at her hand atop of your own, idly noting it feels warm and even comforting to the touch.
"You say you want to help me, if I make the choice to go back, but how?" you ask, as diplomatically as you can. "Who are you, exactly, that you can claim such a thing? What is this offer you would make me?"
The Keeper smiles at you warmly and gently squeezes your hand. "I told thee, I am memory and idea both. A firekeeper in dream and a dreamer in the fire. To me was given the charge to find and look after the sparks lost, and so I have. Now thou art here, a spark looking for aid, who desireth to return to a life ended too short."
She pats your hand one final time, then rises up from the fallen pillar. Only now do you notice that she is remarkably tall, though surprisingly you do not feel intimidated; her stature is one of welcoming and care, not one that threatens. You watch her move to the bonfire, then gasp when she puts both her hands into the flames without hesitation.
"I have found and tended what sparks I could find, but in truth there be more out there still, waiting to be found," the Keeper continues, before turning back to face you. You can see she is now holding a small but brightly glowing ember in the cup of her hands. "My heart longs to seek them out, but I could not leave the ones already gathered unattended. But now, perhaps, with thine aid, a chance presents itself that could fulfill our desires both?"
A frown forms on your face, your tears now dried up, as you look at the Keeper and the flame she holds in incomprehension.
"What… what are you asking of me?"
"I would offer thee my place at the fire, child," the Keeper replies. "Shouldst thou accept, I could leave into the mists, free to pursue the sparks whose cries for shelter are still unheard, and be at ease knowing those already found would be safe under thy watch in my absence."
The suggestion surprises and puzzles you in equal measure. "I don't understand," you admit. "I mean, I understand what you are asking and how it would help
you, but how does it relate to me? You said I had a choice to return, but now you are asking me to stay?"
She smiles at you patiently. "Didst thou not hear my words? To be the firekeeper is to be here in this dream, as we are now; but it is the nature of dreams to end and so, when thou wakest, thou wouldst find thyself where thou went awake before. Such would be my gift to thee, the only aid I can offer to fulfill thine heart's desire."
You stare at her in silence for a while, your feelings torn. "Can it really be that easy?" you ask, your voice a mere whisper, wanting to hope but not daring to.
"I would not describe it as such, but I suppose from thy point of view, it would appear that way," the Keeper says. "Understand that it is an offer most unique, made in circumstances equally as such, for in truth I am not certain how thou camest to be here as thou art; no other spark has ever come to me in a manner similar. But perhaps 'tis not for us to know the how, only what we do with the chance it offers."
Nervously you wring your hands together as you mull the offer over in your head.
"If…
If I were to accept, how would this work? What would be expected of me?" you ask slowly.
"I would place upon thee no fetters," she replies. "My desire is to help thee attain happiness, to gain that which thou were denied before, nothing more. Thou desirest to live and my offer be merely the only manner through which I can grant thy wish."
Your stomach contracts uncomfortably at the word 'wish'. You do not buy it; it sounds too good to be true. Suspicion fills you as you narrow your eyes at the Keeper.
"That doesn't really answer my question," you say. "If I accept, if I do this,
what will happen to me? What am I supposed to do as a 'firekeeper'?"
"I told thee: I have no desire to burden thee with fetters or obligations of any kind," the Keeper answers again. "If thou takest my place, thou wouldst awaken were thou left and live as thou hast before, unchanged."
She sounds sincere and honest, but you're still not quite convinced. "If this is a dream and it's as simple as waking up from it, then how come you never awaken?"
"And where would I awaken to, dear child?" the Keeper asks in return, now bearing a sad smile. "I was born within this realm, created of and for the memories that slumber within it. This is my waking world, as surely as the world thou lived in was thine and I am bound to it as thou art bound to thine."
You can find no rebuttal to that.
Still, another question raises its head. "You said I would have no obligations, but did you not also say that you expect me to watch over these 'sparks'?" You cast another suspicious glance at her, wondering if you have at last found a hole in her alluring tale, have finally exposed the deception. "So which is it? Am I to be taskless, or to be a watcher in your stead?"
"One needn't necessarily exclude the other," the Firekeeper says, not sounding worried at having been potentially found out. "I think perhaps, that thou hast taken my meaning somewhat too literal. To watch over the fire and safeguard the sparks within its embrace, thou couldst accomplish this merely by accepting the mantle and being linked to it. Thou wouldst not need to return here, though thou art welcome to, at all times, of course. Thou needst but live and exist, such will be enough to maintain the flame."
You tilt your head. Since you have no idea of the inner workings of this realm, whatever or wherever it may be, her explanation sounds as plausible as any other, but still you feel some things do not add up.
"If that's all it takes, why can you leave even without me to take your place?"
At this, the Firekeeper's smile turns even sadder.
"I am a mere construct, dear child. An amalgamation of the ideals and memories contained within the fire and the sparks. In this manner, I am not truly alive, not as thou werest, and as of such, I possess not a soul of mine own," she says quietly. "Thou, on the other hand, possess a soul most bright, filled with the potential only a mortal soul can have. I am but as kindling in comparison and so I must tend to the flame in close proximity, lest it fade."
This revelation comes as somewhat of a shock, to put it mildly, and the suspicion you felt flees like a vampire from sunlight, to be replaced with horror as well as shame for the lack of tact with which you tackled this.
"I… I'm sorry," you stammer, but the Keeper gently shakes her head to brush it off.
"Thou needst not be," she assures you. "The truth of my existence burdens me not, I am content with my lot and honoured to bear my charge. I did not tell thee this to ask for thy sympathy, but merely to explain why thou art capable of something that I am not."
You look at the woman in wonder and see her in an entirely different light than before. You do not know why, but even though it
is still possible that all she has said was all carefully planned to play on your emotions, something compels you to believe her. You
want to believe her, can't stand the idea of someone seemingly so benign and benevolent harbouring any ill intentions towards you. Perhaps it is foolish of you to do so, but you've been alone for so long that even now, in death, your desire to no longer be isolated overrides your caution.
You hug your knees and turn your head to stare into the fire. You fall quiet and
think.
Finally, after some time passes in total silence, you look back up at the Firekeeper, your expression a mix of conflicting emotions.
"If I do this… Is there really nothing you would like me to do in return?"
The Keeper seems hesitant. "I do not wish to impose…"
You shake your head. "You're not imposing. If this all of this is true, if this isn't some twisted delusion playing in my head or some cruel manner of game, then what you are offering is
nothing less than bringing me back from the dead and giving me my life back," you say, while trying to force your body to stop shaking through sheer force of will.
"If… if you are really willing to do that for me, when you don't even know me or have any reason to help me, then… Then I cannot just do nothing for you in return. So please," you give her your most imploting of gazes. "If there is anything,
tell me."
The Firekeeper seems to wrestle internally with your request for a while, but eventually she turns back to you and nods.
"There is one thing I would ask of thee, if thou art willing," she begins slowly. "But thou art free to decline and I shall not hold it against thee shouldst thou chose as such."
"I understand. Please, just tell me."
The woman takes a deep breath and finally relents. "The sparks I have gathered, as well as those to be found still, many of them lived lives not too dissimilar to thine own," she says. "Lives that ended prematurely, or lives too long filled with naught but grief. When thou wakest from death's slumber, to take thine second chance at life, wouldst thou be willing to take some of these sparks with thee, to grant them the same chance thou werest given?"
You blink, somewhat surprised. That was not the kind of request you expected.
"Would that even be possible?" you wonder aloud.
The Firekeeper nods affirmatively. "Take a spark and it shall awaken when thou dost, restored to form from memory, much like thee."
That is one question answered, but you still have many more. You know nothing of the Firekeeper and the 'sparks' in her care, nor of their history, the place they come from or if they are even human or not. It is one thing to entrust your own wellbeing - or at least the wellbeing of your soul, given your life is currently gone - to this woman and her offer, hoping and praying she is sincere and truthful, but quite another to possibly bring back unknown factors along with you.
How would these lost souls react to suddenly being alive again? At least when you decide if you want to accept this offer or not, it will have been
your choice, but from what you can understand these 'sparks' are dormant, slumbering, who would know what happened to them only
after the decision was already made. Without knowing anything about the true nature of these sparks, you cannot know how they will react to sudden resurrection, nor have you any way of knowing if they would be a danger to your home in case they don't.
You do not even know if they are truly 'lost souls' as the Firekeeper describes them. This could all still be a feverish dream of your dying mind, or a fiendish plot to have you unknowingly agree to bring something dangerous into your world.
You want to believe the Keeper is genuinely benign, you truly do, but your mind is so stuffed and overflowing with conflicting thoughts and emotions about everything that has happened and is currently happening to you, you struggle to cope with it all, let alone think about it calmly and rationally.
"I have caused thee distress once again, have I not?" the Keeper speaks mournfully, pulling you from your turmoiled thoughts. She bows apologetically towards you. "Forgive me, 't was wrong of me to ask thee to take on this burden."
"N-no, it's nothing like that," you reply, the genuinely apologetic tone of the Keeper's voice making you feel shame for all the suspicion and mistrust you've mentally subjected her to, as if you had just stepped on Kyubey on purpose. "It's just… There are a lot of things to consider concerning your request and I was merely, ah, overwhelmed thinking about them all."
"I understand," the Firekeeper says. "Still, the blame is mine for not expressing myself properly, as I see now how my words could be misconstrued. For this I apologise. I do not ask thee to take all sparks with thee at once. 't Would be most unfair to thee, but most unwise as well, as I do not know how these sparks will take to thy realm."
You nod in agreement, given how that was one of your own concerns as well.
"I could not possibly dare to take such risk with those entrusted to my care," the Keeper continues. "But perhaps if thou were to take but one spark only, the risk would be reduced to a level more acceptable?"
"It… It'd certainly be more manageable," you agree diplomatically. "If I do take one, what then?"
"I would humbly beg thee to look after it, if thou wouldst be willing." You can feel her pleading stare even while her eyes are hidden behind her mask. "Tis much to ask, I know this too well, especially given that thou hast no obligation towards them as I do. Still I ask, for thou art uniquely suited to understand them, knowing too well the pain of a life lived unfulfilled."
She extends her hands, still cupping the ember, and offers it to you.
"Child, I wish to give thee a second life, a chance to achieve all that thou left undone. All I ask, in sincerest humility, is to grant them what I would grant thee as well."
You stare at the ember, its flickering light reflected in your eyes while your mind is a maelstrom of feelings and thoughts. The sincerity of the Keeper's plea has nearly moved you to tears even as a part of you is screaming to not be swayed. There are a myriad of reasons for you to refuse, all of them valid, and hundreds of things you really should find out first before agreeing to anything. To go along with so many unknowns that could make you bitterly regret your choice in the future would be foolhardy.
Yet, in your heart, you already know what you're going to say regardless.
After all, was it any different when you became a magical girl?
"I'll do it."
You look up at the Firekeeper, trying to put on a brave face and smile, while at the same time you cannot hold back your tears anymore and salty pearls once more roll down your cheeks.
"I will fulfill your request."
The Keeper lets out a deep sigh you didn't realise she'd been holding. The flame in her hands flickers, but does not go out. When she raises her head again, your gazes meet despite her headband, and you find yourself amazed, for you cannot recall the last time you saw someone look so relieved, grateful and happy at the same time.
"Then, thou willst accept my offer and link thyself to the flame, to wake from death's sweet slumber and return whence ye came?"
You swallow hard, your throat feeling dry and raw, but you have made your decision and will not go back on it now.
"I will," you reply. "I…
I want to live."
The Firekeeper's body shakes and for a moment it looks as if she is about to collapse, but she catches herself and forces her legs to remain firm. She smiles at you, her lips trembling, and you can see two shiny trails running down her face from underneath her mask.
"Thank thee," she manages to breathe out, her voice laden thickly with raw emotion.
You find yourself returning her smile, more sure of yourself this time.
"What must I do?" you ask, wanting to move on with this before you have time to change your mind.
The Keeper steps closer until she is right in front of you. "Raise thy hands as I did mine," she instructs, "that I might bestow upon thee this ember and return to thee the life thou were denied."
You cup your hands together as instructed and hold them out towards the Firekeeper. You try to ignore how violently your entire body is shaking, or how fast your heart is beating. Idly you wonder how that is even possible if you are dead.
As if in slow motion, you watch as the Firekeeper bends down and lowers her hands towards yours. You hold your breath as you feel the warmth of the flame as it comes closer and closer to your skin.
"Do not fear the fire," the Keeper whispers. "For it is through fire that thou shalt be reborn."
Her hands part, letting the ember drop into your own waiting ones.
You hiss through clenched teeth as you feel your palm get burned by searing heat, but have no time to think or scream, as the very next moment you are swallowed by a wave of warmth and light.
So, this is now a thing. Inspired by "Puella Magi Adfligo Systema" and the "Waifu Souls CYOA" and with no little prodding from Stewart, I made this thing where I toss two depressing settings in which horrible things happen to innocent girls together with the explicit purpose of giving said girls a chance at a better, happy life. Or, in case of Mami and the Dark Souls characters, a second chance at life.
In the post following this one, I will go into more detail on the first important vote, namely, the choice of your first Dark Souls Waifu. But before that, a little bit about this mental idea in general.
I don't intend for this to be a dark or depressing thing, quite the opposite, I chose these two settings explicitly so we could bring some light to them, because lord knows do these girls, of both settings, deserve it.
I admit I haven't watched PMMM itself, all my knowledge of it is second-hand, because while I like the idea of helping these characters and have enjoyed Puella Magi Adfligo Systema because it does just that, the show itself is not something I could bear. A mere glimpse at a gif of Mami's death scene (not even with sound) was enough to keep me awake for a night and also what really spurred me into gear into thinking about this more seriously (and because Stewart poked me with a cattle prod).
So, part of the players' task will be to make sure I get these characters right, and to poke me when I mess up. I welcome anyone willing to give me advice or lend me a hand when it comes to that. You all probably know better than me how canon characters are likely to react to these new events, so I'll be relying on the direction given by votes and write-ins a lot.
With that said, let's get to voting for a waifu!