A/N: This is the brief prologue and first of several chapters to a story I had hinted at some time ago. The concept was to write something in the style of a Nordic folk tale. It was also loosely inspired by the changes in Homura and Madoka's relationship over the course of Rebellion.
"If memory serves," she said, with the distinctive sidelong glance of someone trying hard to remember, "it went something like this:"
A gentle rain began to fall on the funeral procession; the raven-haired girl watched from the side of the road, reflecting on how strange it was that it was dedicated to her.
Much of the village had traveled through the woods to their cottage, coffin in tow, to show their solicitude, and to help her rose-eyed partner with the mortal remains. Strangely, she had yet to been seen, even as the procession wound through the trees.
The violet-eyed girl marched in step with them, and passed through the crowd as surely as the breeze, drawing not notice, but only complaints of "a chill wind". Her voice fell on deaf ears, no matter its distress. Even as she drew ahead of them, the sea of gazes pierced through her completely and without pause.
She moved forward, down the path to the lakeside mausoleum, where she watched the mourners approach in equally mournful contemplation.
Was she not entitled to the afterlife? To a happy dream?
How long would she languish here?
They placed the casket down before the great stone doors, then lined up in two rows before it. Each pair came forward in unison, placing their hands on it, perhaps offering their prayers or condolences to the wind before filing back down the path towards the village. A thought began to take hold in her mind as she watched the dreary proceedings: she had heard in countless stories and legends that those spirits consigned to the physical world were held by dissatisfaction.
Once the last of the crowd had paid their respects, they parted and stared back in into the woods from whence they came, allowing in a single new arrival.
In that moment, she knew the stories to be true.
With eyes like pieces of rose quartz, silken hair and rose petal lips, truly, her beloved was the very image of beauty even when swathed in sorrow such as she was. To this girl was fastened the chain of regret which kept the spirit bound to Earth. She came slowly, with face seemingly indifferent and hands clasped against her chest. In them she held an ebony token, a necklace with volcanic glass, which the raven haired girl had given her the day they left to begin their lives together. This she slipped beneath the lid of the simple coffin, and stood in reflection.
The violet eyed girl fondly remembered both the gift and the day. The local minister had claimed it wasn't within his power to wed two women, but their spirits were hardly dampened. Her beloved's good standing within the village had averted much of the scorn that would have befallen them, and no one objected to them refurbishing the neglected hunters' lodge within the forest.
As they took the first tentative steps into their new home, she had presented her sprightly partner with the necklace and proclaimed, "By your side, I'll remain forevermore." They had embraced then, but now she found her arms empty; her intangible body couldn't wipe away even one of the girl's tears as she broke down.
For a time they remained side-by-side, until an older man came to the front and placed his hand upon the pink haired girl's shoulder.
"Miss, I believe the time has come to lay her to rest," he said, eyes downcast.
So she stood aside and allowed him, alongside a few of the other men, to open the stone doors, and to gently carry the coffin into the serene darkness.
And with that, it was over.
The villagers began to retreat back into the forest, with the man stopping only briefly to say, "Take as long as you need, but know that it shall be dark soon, and the mist grows thick."
Once the last of them were gone, the sky began to weep openly with her. Even as the sun set, she continued unabated.
The spirit remained at her side, numb with despair, until she observed an unsettling change. Drained of strength, the mourning girl collapsed against the stone doors.
Then she began to laugh.
She, laughing and weeping at once, cried to the stars, "Cruel poison of life, you've taken everything from me! Take me as well! Take me away!"
"Take me away..." the violet eyed girl whispered. Had she the capacity, she would have whisked her beloved away then and there, but alas, she was a mere watcher. Instead she resolved to remain by the girl's side, even if it meant forestalling her own salvation, until she could alleviate their shared grief or reunite them.
Thankfully, the rose eyed girl tired herself by the time the moon was high; she stumbled to her feet amid the thick mist, rubbing her eyes. Then she turned and began walking back up the path, mud sucking at her heels as she went.
Watching her, the spirit was still in a daze, gutted with empathy and crushed beneath the enormity of her own situation. Sometime later, she finally caught herself still standing in the rain and ruminating. Her beloved had already left. She plunged into the waiting forest in pursuit.
And with the strangled light of the new moon, so began the first night of April.
More A/N: I have the whole thing drafted, so the updates should flow rather quickly. I'm looking forward to finally getting putting up a story after my long absence drafting new stuff, and I look forward to hearing your reactions. Anyway, I hope this intrigued and entertained you!