Thine Heart's Desire (A Dark Souls Fanfiction)

Chapter 1: The Keeper

"She is much like thee. Prisioners, both, kept to link the fire"

The gentle crackle of flames.

The distant clang of Andre's hammer and anvil.

These were the things that the Firekeeper heard as she sat upon the old stone steps of Firelink Shrine, the bonfire's light shining and illuminating her features.

It was then she heard the wooshing of energy as the light of the flames grew ever stronger, she could feel them on her face, on her hands, as a warrior formed from the embers that flew from the pile of burning bones.

The man landed on his knees, before rising slowly to his feet, looking around for the firekeeper: the one most important to his duty. She gave him strength, literally, and mentally, to continue on his journey, aiding the Unkindled warriors that fought to link the fire.

She stayed by the steps, rising to her feet at the oh-so familiar event that had come to pass. There she stood, her near ivory locks of platinum blonde hair falling in gentle waves down past her shoulders, her smooth, porcelain skin unblemished, with a circlet over her eyes, something that all firekeepers were born to wear.

The elegant black dress she wore hugged her form ever so gently, with the sleeves baggy, and more flowing black silk draped down her back. The way her skin contrasted against the darkness was breathtaking.

Though she was completely blind, the firekeeper never lost sight of the warrior that visited her every day. She could always tell, by the way he stepped, the rhythmic shuffle of his armor singing to her as he walked around the shrine, the song she grew to love.

She was always his first, and his last visit before he left the shrine to explore the land of Lothric.

"Welcome home, Ashen One..."

She smiled, her gentle and soothing voice like music to the warrior's ears.

"You mistake me, milady..."

A rasping, gruff, baritone voice informed her, with a jovial tone.

"Oh, my apologies, Undead... I just grow confused. There aren't many of your kind around Lothric anymore..."

She knew his voice, felt his heat, a special sort of heat, usually let off when an Unkindled was given the strength of flame. But, it was as she knew, this man was Undead, and could not partake of this strength.

"I've something for you."

He said, the rustling of his armor soft and near silent, as the firekeeper tilted her head quizzically.

"What is it, Undead?"

Her slender, soft hands soon found the cold of steel, with a winding and twisted design between its borders. A ring, by it's circular shape. But, this particular ring soon radiated with a peculiar warmth as it slipped around her finger, returning vigor to the firekeeper as she went about her duty.

"My thanks... This makes me feel... Better."

"I shall return for you, milady."

She could feel his movement, almost sense the way he leaned forward in a bow, but instead of bowing back to him, her hands held to the cold metal of his armor, to bring him close, to hold onto him for a moment.

"Promise me?"

She whispered, with such frailty and a soothing air in her voice, that it plucked at the man's heartstrings. She breathed deep of his scent, of the smoky tang of ash and pine and forests, of the outside world.

She felt rough, callused hands take her own, wrapping them in their warm splendor, like the fire she tended to day in and day out.

Only... His hands offered her more comfort than any sort of fire ever could.

"I promise."

The warmth slipped away, and his footsteps grew from their rhythmic jostling to sad ghosts of their former states, puffs in the ash laden stone that crunched beneath the feet of all who strode in and out of the shrine.

She could no longer feel his warmth, smell his scent. The only thing to comfort her was the distant clanging of the mighty blacksmith Andre, pounding away at the anvil, and the chatter of the denizens of Firelink.

"Please... Return quickly, brave Undead..."