Seldom I remember the wake. When I look at the children, and see them small, fragile, and budding, I cannot help but wonder what do memories of birth and young age feel like. If I'd have to construe a feel of my own, I would probably describe it as warmth. And I knew not then that it was indeed the warmth, for it was the only thing I knew at that time. What I felt was the only thing current, a sentiment that predecessed all knowing, senses and disparities.

Seldom do we talk of the beginning. It is a thing entrenched within us; a thing which fuels life just like a heart draws blood across our flesh. It was warmth then to teach us what warmth was, it was light to guide us to stay in the cordial lingering flames, it was life to show us that truly we do exist. To commend growth of the greatness that we came to be, it was The Fire to give us our souls.

I sometimes recall what it used to be, when the nights are warm, my mind serene, and my body tired. Many a story is spoken of the First Flame, but lesser is count of those who have felt it in their beings. When I fall to sleep, the rare peace of slumber I have takes me back to when it all began…

"You are here?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"…"

"..?" He leaned downwards so that our eyes met.

"Yes! I mean… Excuse me… I got lost in thought." He smiled at me. I must have looked a fool now. It was a bright night, few clouds were strolling across the sky, and the moon has illuminated the valley, rivers and human cities below. Yet of all things, the most illuminated of all were his pale eyes. I had always believed that I was able to see his eyes smiling even when the rest of his expression showed nothing of it. It was such, the nature of his soul. After all this time.

Truly, I lost the count of it. Perhaps we've been sitting here for hours. Perhaps for years.

"It is rather late."

I'd stay here for the whole night long, yet I scheduled practice session before sunrise.

"My quarters are closer, if you wish." He noticed, with a serious look on his face. I felt like laughing out loud, but I hid the smile. It was true that the Silver Knight's barracks were closer, and his tower had a very neat position in the western part of the city, yet the occasions on which he'd just let me sleep were rare.

"You are very inconspicuous."

He rolled his eyes, crossing arms behind his head, lying back on the stone. He remained silent for a couple of moments. I decided to share my thoughts. Not sharing them out loud is something we already paid our toll for.

"I've been thinking about the rise."

I could hear him sitting back up.

"Are you alright?" Of course, he usually thinks that me reminiscing means that something is pestering my thoughts.

"No… I mean, I am alright… I just felt like it…

At this moment, images of trembling, shapeless silhouettes gaining their form from the earth occurred in my vision. The wonderful sense of heat, then cold. Then struggle. Then the ascent. Towards where the heat was rising. I remember the first words exchanged. I remember first helping hands. I remember the surfacing.

The pillar of heat took us to the plane dark and freezing, to extent in which all the beings clenched to the ravine and to the sensation. And even though the cold lasted for what seemed an eternity, soon the light began seeping off the distant mountain. It was a hotspot on the endless and transparent cove above. It was the sun…

Though, if we don't leave now, I'll probably be late for the morning séance…

They say that the rest is history. In truth, for several years to come we saw our kind crawl out of the hole in our grounds. None of them really posed neither questions nor answers, everyone was being as is, and everyone chose their own doing and living. Some of them chose to move on. Some of them stayed with us. The first, with the fiery soul and the men that chose to follow were already standing firmly on their feet, leading the construction of a settlement in the valley. He was strange, that one, grandiose, and strong before all. The warmth his soul was emanating led everyone to their duties, and no one ever had doubts that he was indeed our guide from among other deities chosen by the Fire itself. I have vague memories of the weaving, the clear lake, dense forest in behind, and a small hut I had near the stream, up in the hill.

Our doings lasted for a while. Arts, crafts and clouts alike flourished in growth. Gods bestowed their kindness upon all, and kindred grew vigorous, becoming faultless in the arts of blades, their prowess braved by the anabasis we all rose from. What was created here is a place exalted in spirits and belief, and dreams of a fertile home among the flames.

It was so very cold… I am unsure when I realized it. The smithies were fuming, clamors heard from far and round, kin was hasting… It was then that it was decided we would wage war on the Everlasting. It was then, that we decided to reshape the world to our own liking.

"Rarely do you talk in your sleep."

I remember the massive descent through a hollow tree, back down under. Camps were widespread over the ashen hills. I myself had been paired up with several girls in the tent. All of us were silent killers, kept for assailing the weak, uncovered spots the first waves would make... But none of us was prepared for what was to come upon us… None of us knew, before the first one came down from a grey treetop and showed us what we've gotten into…

There was no warning for the scorching light beam which made its way into the camp.

Sometime later in the morning, I could've sworn that the only pleasant moment of my sleep was the one in which I was lowered upon the soft sheets of my bedding.

When I woke up, the sky was still dark. Nevertheless, it was indeed the time to start getting prepared. I have only at this moment noticed that I was wearing my pearl-colored nightgown, instead of the long and heavy midnight blue overdress I have spent the night before in. It was lying on the chair beside the window sloppily curled up in a pile. I recognized the handiwork, yet I had neither time nor strength to tidy it up at this moment.

Gathering weekly duty rosters, I quickly clad myself in a dark cloak and left my room. I was malcontent that the faint, night candle setting gave my garment an oddly brownish color, whereas the blues were nowhere to be seen. Eyeing pesky ornate candleholders, I hurried down the hallway to reach the stairs leading to the mid-level of the tower, taking me to a highway connecting all the military quarters. Passing three Silver knights' posts, and turning to the left, I descended to a lower level and arrived to the training hall just as the sun broke over the city walls and shone upon the rooftops of Anor Londo, and just in time to begin yet another practice session with four hundred ladies I was in charge of.