My Hollowing Tomb (A Dark Souls Fanfiction)

Chapter 2: Exploration of familiar lands

And so I reach out for the key,
Given to me from the very sky.
I open the latch, freeing my soul,
Only for it to merely wander into those that would consume it for their own. - prisoner of the Asylum

"What do you mean 'firekeeper'? I've never heard of that before." You question her very title, the two strangers then look to each other and laugh as they shake their head at you, with a roaring laughter Bern pats you heavily on the back, "You haven't been cursed for long, have you? In many lands, the accursed can feed Humanity to a flame and create a memory of their past life somehow, while connecting to a bigger flame called the 'first flame'. But for someone like Sen, she can use the power of these bonfire to draw from this apparent 'first flame' and draw upon an infinite well of humanity. She can strengthen us passersby, allowing us to heal with more Estus." You turn, looking baffled to Sen before she tosses a green bottle towards you, with a simple catch you gaze down at the bottle, engraved with swirls and bumps yet you can't see through the bottle, as if it's contents are unimaginable. "Estus? The first fire? What is any of this?! I can't even eat, sleep or even pass some gas! What will a bottle do me any good?" You hold out the bottle in front of you with anger, but as it nears the bonfire, the flame whirls around your arm and the bottle, the flame glowing a golden yellow as it fills it up.

"That. Is Estus my friend. The fire of the first, the lost souls that become these bonfires and other unexplainable things. It's what heals us Undead if we don't want to die and lose a part of remaining sanity." Sennetta said with confidence as she looks over to Bern who upon cue, pulled out a rusted Zweihandler and swings for you with no warning.

As you roll for your life, the blade chops at your arm and nearly cleaves it off, severing many muscles. Thousands of little electric shocks burn up your arm as you scream in pain, but out of nowhere Bern kneels in front of you. "You must drink from the flask, you'll understand better if you do.." with that statement, you cautiously attempt to drink the Estus with a whimper. The bottle touches your cracking lips and you attempt to swallow what seems like thin air, but all that happens is the sense of a great heat flowing down your throat.

As you pull the bottle away and look to your arm you can barely recall the cut to your arm, there is no evidence of a scar either, it just seems like a dream or a distant memory. Your sleeve is still torn from the cut, however you find the humor in the situation and speak to Sen.

"What? It can heal my very limbs from falling off but it can't tailor my sleeve?" With a chuckle you then glare at the both of them, "Why the hell would you nearly take my arm off?! I would have understood, even with just a splinter, that was across the line.. And then some!" Bern raised his hands in a apologetic gesture, before calmly responding with a look of experience, "Now, now.. If I wanted to kill you, I would have. The more severe the wound, the more it shows how well it could heal you."

Shaking your head you sit back down before taking a closer look at the two, Bern was the size of a giant or at least a man with a dwarf on his shoulders, and looked like a veteran of battle, as his body seemed as aged as his sword but still seemed to hold his own with legs like tree trunks, his forearms and face were covered in faint scars but most of his grey hair shielded the evidence, his beard was scruffy and covered his neck, but his hair seemed to be slicked back with sweat or grease, but short in length.

His companion Sennetta, seemed to be the opposite, she was short and twig-like for a woman, but seemed to be of age, as she was dressed and trained like a apprentice cleric, though as if she bumped in and tussled with a Pyromancer for their clothes, all she seemed to have to defend herself, was a simple morningstar and a old chime, which could of resembled a heirloom once. Her brown hair hung out from her tattered hood, but her white childish smirk and her turquoise eyes shone out from under the shadowy veil of her hood.