Stargazing

Only the oldest Magi remembered a time when Valhalla was quiet. There were always stars shining over them, even in the day. But the music that so many took for granted, that had not always been there. The more curious would ask the older Magi about it. Most would not discuss the days before the Apostle received her eternal reward. It was Sineya, the oldest of the Puella Magi, who would tell the tale. She would always start in the middle, return to the beginning, and finish at the end. She told the tale thus:

It started as a whisper.

"It's time."

Then it became chant.

"It's time."

Louder and louder.

"The Lady says it's time."

Until everyone knew.

"She's coming."

It echoed in the halls.

"It's time."

Generally, it was optional to view a Reaping. When the Goddess left to claim a Puella Magi, to cleanse her soul, to take on her despair, only those who knew the magical girl would watch. It was considered good manners to watch a former companion's Reaping, and to be present when she entered Valhalla. It could be viewed through a spectral portal. The Goddess created them and could create as many as she wanted. The Magi who had earned their rest were allowed to ask the Goddess to open a window for them to look through and watch the lives of their friends and families and—for some—their countries.

But it was not the time to ponder the previous entrants; another member was about to join their ranks. It was cause for celebration. Everyone wanted to see, wanted to be present when she arrived for her Eternal Rest. Akemi Homura was, after all, the most renowned Magical Girl of all time.

The Goddess watched her almost constantly, so everyone knew who she was, even those who'd come to Valhalla before she'd been born. The Goddess, being omnipresent, could look into the future, and would often watch seemingly random moments that the Goddess said were from worlds that would never be, and then, when Akemi Homura was born, she watched only her. No one really understood why their Goddess was so fascinated by this girl that would one day become a Puella Magi, so they too began to watch.

They watched her birth; she was born to a well-off couple that had never desired a child. They'd actively debated giving her up for adoption while a nurse held the nameless little girl that would be named Homura. Eventually, they kept her so they would not lose face among their social circle. "It was such a pity we did not just abort it at the beginning," her mother said, "just put it in the bassinet, I don't want to hold it."

The Magi who'd watched, knowing Homura would be among their number one day, were furious. The Goddess looked on, sad but knowing.

They watched her grow. Homura's parents were never there, and the few maids didn't seem to care for her either. Oh, they tended to the basic necessities—feeding, clothing, changing, bathing her, but not much else. Homura learned to walk late, not because of some impairment, but because no one took the time to work with her. She eventually taught herself, perhaps so she could escape her crib.

She was almost always alone. Many of the Magi ached to walk through the window the Goddess made and cuddle the child close, coo in her ear, tell her it was alright, that she mattered, that she was loved. None of them could.

But there was hope. When Homura taught herself to walk, she eventually toddled her way to a window, where she discovered the stars. Homura, it turned out, was a born stargazer, and for the first time, the child smiled and laughed. "Hush now," the servants would say, "don't be so noisy, such a naughty girl you are," but for that moment, she was both innocent and happy.

The Magi in Valhalla came to long for those moments when Homura would make her way to a window and simply gaze at the stars. It seemed almost as though she knew she was being watched over from the heavens. She would sometimes wave, occasionally laugh, but always, always smile.

Eventually, she needed glasses. They were bright red frames, and were a little too big—her parents wouldn't need to bother getting her another pair anytime soon. Kids at school made fun of her and pulled her hair. She started wearing twin braids stop them. It didn't work, but it was easier to manage, so she kept them.

Then they learned she had a heart condition. "How pathetic," her father had said, "how feeble, how frail, what a bother, what a troublesome child, what have I done to deserve such a burden?" Confidence long since shattered, she simply allowed herself to be dropped off at a hospital by the family valet, who filled out forms and left himself. No one came to visit. No one called. She did not even get a letter from the Catholic school she attended. She was, for all intents and purposes, alone. Only the nurses and Magi long dead cared about her.

One nurse in particular, an elderly woman who huffed at the idea of leaving a girl as young as Homura alone, and started giving her books to read and, more importantly, talking about them with her. Homura was particularly enthralled with the story of Mulan—in Valhalla, the real Mulan preened a little at that.

They watched her operation and subsequent therapy, then the next operation, and the next round of therapy. They watched her fill out forms to go to school in Mitakihara. Days slowly passed, and her release date got closer and closer and then, Homura became the first Puella Magus to exist without making a contract with an Incubator. They watched their Goddess appear at her side and gently stroke the side of her face. "My Chosen," the Goddess whispered. "You shall be the Instrument through which my Will shall be known, the Hammer that forges this world into what it is meant to become. You will find the Magi of this world. You will guide them, teach them, protect them just as you protect this world. This is my Will, this is your charge, this is your task. So mote it be."

They watched Homura dazedly remove her glasses and release her hair from her familiar braids. She clutched her chest and gasped, struggling to breathe. Then she clasped trembling fingers around the glowing orb that had appeared. They watched her clothing change as theirs had done. She donned a uniform that reminded many of something they had worn to school, done in blacks whites, and purples with a diamond theme.

Homura was very confused, her expression made that plain. But she seemed to know, almost instinctively, what she had to do. With no guidance from an Incubator, she went out into the night to fight the Wraiths. She deftly wielded her bow, her hand steady and her aim true. She met other Magi and worked well enough with them, even if she never said more than ten words to the three of them total. Homura was notoriously shy. The Incubators were incredibly curious about her.

A month was gone in the blink of an eye and, after some unusually powerful Wraiths, Miki Sayaka joined them in Valhalla and the girl they knew was gone. Homura clutched two red ribbons desperately, crying, and saying only a broken "Madoka." They did not know who Madoka was, but they did know Homura loved her very much.

The shy girl they all knew from before had vanished entirely, and this new Akemi Homura had taken her place, marching resolutely into the future. She fought Wraiths with ease, making all of them wonder how, exactly, she became so skilled. Changed as she was, Homura never forgot the charge she was given by the Goddess, fought for it all the more ferociously, if possible.

When she told a rather outrageous tale to Kyubey, they'd thought her mad, but the Goddess did not refute her words, only smiled sadly. She said nothing, and turned back to watch Homura. They whispered among themselves of the windows the Goddess had opened before Homura was born, windows into worlds that would never exist, worlds where Puella Magi turned into Witches when they fell into despair, and thought that maybe, maybe, Homura had saved them as surely as the Goddess.

Did that mean, then, that the Madoka she cried for was their Goddess? The Goddess would not answer that either.

They watched her carry on, her life as steady as the flow of time itself, fighting Wraiths. In the dark of night, she would always turn her eyes to the stars, and just gaze at them for a time before setting to work. Always, as before, she smiled. She did not wave or laugh, but she still smiled. Within a few years, she dropped out of school before anyone could notice she was not aging. Her parents filed a missing person's report, and even took the time to follow up on it, but quit searching after a year and held a token funeral. Homura had observed the spectacle from the roof of the church. She left before the half-dozen people attending.

Eventually, Sakura Kyoko joined the ranks of the Magi in Valhalla. She watched with the others, standing with Sayaka. Not long after, Tomoe Mami joined them, but there was a sense of sadness about her as though she had learned a crushing truth upon her arrival, one she would not share. Still, they'd fought for ten long years, and had long since earned their rest, but no such thing existed for Homura.

Homura, whose magic was never exhausted.

It is hard to live for centuries and not be found out eventually, so no one was surprised when she was discovered. That was how she ended up being employed by the government as a secret agent that dealt solely with the supernatural. When an odd assignment came in, the man in charge claimed he would deal with it and it was never heard about again; those were the assignments handed to Akemi Homura, without fail. She'd handled them and her Wraith Hunting Duty with aplomb.

She never worked with a partner, never needed one, and the government had done an excellent job of removing all evidence of her life; Cleopatra, Jeanne D'Arc, and Anne Frank were names recorded in history texts and would never be forgotten. Akemi Homura would never be remembered. For all that she had been fighting for centuries to protect the world, to guide the Magi and protect the Kaname line (though no one knew why), only the other Magi and a very select few humans would ever know she'd ever walked the earth.

"We got rid of the grave and purged all records of your existence. No hard copies, no digital copies, no pictures, no school records, no birth certificate or anything like that, no nothing. You never existed."

"Just like Kaname Madoka never existed," she'd said once, when her supervisor, a greasy man whose name no one could remember, told her that she'd essentially been erased from society. The Magi resting in Valhalla wondered if this Kaname Madoka was the reason she so fiercely protected the bloodline descending from Kaname Tatsuya.

She worked tirelessly. In recompense, she was granted an apartment building all to herself, with the top floor made entirely of glass. On the rare night she not have a case or needed to hunt Wraiths, she would sit and watch the stars. After a few decades, she demanded piano lessons as part of her pay. Since she wasn't paid—room and board were provided, but as far as monetary allowance, there was really nothing since she didn't need it—her employers gave in, and found her a tutor.

Over the course of a century, she went through dozens of tutors—she needed a new one every few years or so, lest they notice she didn't age—she mastered every classical piano piece and a few others besides. She played beautifully. It was not a natural talent, but rather one that she had worked hard to cultivate, and that made it all the more appreciable.

The Magi who'd been in Valhalla the longest recognized that there was grand piano sitting, unused, in the main hall. The surface shone brightly and reflected the stars of the universe back to whoever sat on the bench to play. Others had asked to play for the Goddess but were denied the opportunity; "It is for another," she would tell them. Not long after Homura began her lessons, they began to have their suspicions about who was meant to play.

But the oldest among those resting in Valhalla were not the only ones to watch the progression of her life. Many of the younger ones, those who'd come after she'd been chosen by the Goddess worked with her at some point. To others she was legend, a boogeyman the Incubators used to keep the Puella Magi from crossing the line.

They came to Valhalla and asked "who is that Magus the Goddess watches so lovingly? Akemi Homura? What an unusual name. I've never heard it."

"Do you know who she looks like to me? The Apostle. I worked with her once."

"Oh? I think she looks like the Ageless One. I never met her, but I've heard people talk about her, and the description fits."

"You're wrong, all wrong, that's the Archangel. I ought to know, she taught me to use my bow properly. I touched her wings once. I thought she'd shoot me but she didn't."

"That's not right, that's the Guardian. She doesn't talk much but she keeps an eye on Magical Girls the world over. Saved me more than once, I can tell you that."

"The Incubators sometimes called her the Irregular. I always thought it was the Winged Archer."

With so many names, it was no wonder the younger Magi were always surprised to learn her name when they arrived. Some wondered if Homura herself remembered her own name. Her boss referred to her only as Agent Apostle. It was the moniker she had chosen for herself. The other names were given to her by the Puella Magi.

And now, after countless centuries, her time had come. She'd left her government work a century before because they ordered her into space; Homura left, stating only that she would protect this world until it was no more. She'd gotten her wish. There were less than twenty humans on the planet and they were leaving for the space colonies soon. Earth would be just another dust ball within a day.

Akemi Homura, who was irrevocably tied to all of them, would soon join them. The Kaname line, a family she'd watched over for as long as she'd been a Puella Magi, had ended days before. An old man named Tatsuya had fallen in to a sleep from which he did not wake; Homura, who'd held his hand as he drew his last breath, buried his body alone. With the Kaname family gone and no humans left to protect, the last of her ties to the planet were fraying and falling away. Even Kyubey had left her in favor of venturing out to the colonies, sensing her end was near.

The Goddess opened a window for them to view the Reaping in the main courtyard, one large enough for all to see. She waited with their number, sitting on a throne grown from an ancient tree, the limbs twisted and bent to form a seat.

Homura marched into one of the deserts—it was easy, since the planet had largely been reduced to a desert with only a few oases. She walked into the night, looking up at the starless sky. She always looked to the night sky, even though most of the stars had long since burned out, and the few that remained were so faint even she had to strain to see them. On and on she walked, never breaking the steady rhythm of her stride. Wind blew into her face. She continued her march, not stopping even when she, her magic almost gone—she had decided against cleansing her Soul Gem for this final trek—faced thirteen Wraiths. These were the last of the Wraiths on this planet, and with the imminent departure of the remaining humans, they knew there would be no more. In the colonies, Wraiths ran rampant, but then, those Magi did not have the Apostle to guide them.

Her wings spread wide behind her. The white feathers had shifted decades before into jagged, spectral appendages that only vaguely resembled her former wings. Kyubey had stated that it was a sign her end was coming, but she'd lasted nearly forty years longer.

They heard their Goddess whisper something, but the words were meant for the Apostle, not for them, so they did not hear what was said. Homura smiled and leaped into the air then swooped down on the Wraiths. She rained arrows down on her enemies and used her wings as weapons. Then, when they were dead, Homura allowed herself to collapse against the rubble, panting. She lay back for several long moments, gazing at an empty sky.

"Madoka," she called, voice hoarse. "Madoka. I am nearly done. Have you found a replacement? I know I could have done better. Perhaps the next one can do what I cannot. I am sorry, Madoka. I tried to protect this world, I did, but I failed." She smiled grimly. "Failure is a skill I have long since perfected. Tomoe Mami would have been better. She was always a better person than I."

In Valhalla, Tomoe Mami choked up. She clutched the yellow ribbon at her throat. She refused to look at the others, eyes closed tight but tears leaking out all the same.

"She would have been able to save this planet. She would not have allowed humanity to destroy their home, made it so that the remaining people did not have to walk around with oxygen tanks to continue breathing. She could have kept your brother's line alive or at the very least provided more comfort at the end."

This caused a stir among the Magi, but their Goddess remained unmoved by their murmurs; she was focused entirely on her Apostle, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Homura gasped in pain and clutched at her chest. She coughed, blood staining her lips. Her hand rested over her heart, blackened Soul Gem gleaming. "Time is running out, Madoka, will you not come for me? Or am I damned because I could not save you?"

There were no answers to her questions.

"Am I to be a Witch, then? Fitting. I considered it a thousand times. I can rein over this desolate planet undisturbed. What will my barrier look like? Will I have to relive my memories of your deaths? I deserve it. So many tries. People can do better when they have a second chance. I made everything worse. Perhaps it would be best to leave me." Tears slid down her cheeks, mixing with sweat, dirt and blood.

Homura cocked her head to the left and looked at something. In the distance was a light. It was a space craft, a transportation pod to take the passengers to the ship waiting in orbit. The light flickered then was gone. The Earth was empty of human life; only a few miles of withering trees and Homura remained.

The Goddess stood, took a step and stood before Homura. The Goddess knelt before the fallen Magus, sending the Magi in Valhalla into chaos. Never before had the Goddess left Valhalla; she would send a smaller fragment of herself (dressed in a uniform similar to what most Puella Magi wear) with short hair and pink eyes to collect her warriors. She had never left her home, and she had certainly never knelt before anyone. The only three who did not seem surprised were Tomoe Mami, Sakura Kyoko, and Miki Sayaka.

"Oh Homura-chan. You've kept me from coming for you for so long." She chuckled. "You have done so much, fought so hard. I would have come for you millennia ago but you were so determined to protect this planet, my family and my people. You could not let yourself rest. But now this planet is dying, my family is gone and my people have fled. It is time to rest, Homura-chan."

And the Goddess drained the dregs of despair from Homura's Soul Gem, giving the legendary warrior her much deserved respite. But then they changed. They were just two schoolgirls sitting across from one another. Homura wore her glasses (how long had it been since they had seen those red frames?) and her hair was braided again.

"Umm, Kaname-san. Are you really alright with someone like me? I'm gloomy after all, so being your friend is—"

"Homura-chan. We were already friends. From now on and forever. Always."

"Okay," she whispered, a bashful smile forming. "Ah, Kaname-san?"

The Goddess giggled. "I think we're a little past such formality, eh Homura?"

The lack of an honorific was noted by everyone, especially Homura if the flush of her cheeks was any indication.

"Madoka," she murmured. "Wherever it is we are going…will there be stars?"

The Goddess only smiled and then they were gone and the window closed. The Magi waited, but there was nothing. The looked around, puzzled and whispered among themselves. Then they heard it. Music. Specifically, the piano, coming from the Throne Room in the building behind them. It was a song Homura used to play called Taenia Memoriae. The Magi rushed in the Great Hall where they sometimes took their meals if they felt like eating.

The Goddess, in her long white robes, sat upon her throne, golden eyes closed and a peaceful smile gracing her face. Homura sat on the bench, hair braided and red glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose, playing. She played and smiled and looked at the stars reflected on the piano. The Magi withdrew, Tomoe Mami, Sakura Kyoko and Miki Sayaka choosing to stand guard outside the halls to allow the Goddess time with her most devout follower.

But no matter where they went, the music followed. The notes echoed throughout all of Valhalla for all to hear. One song blended seamlessly with the next. After some time, the Magi entered the throne room and spoke with their Goddess. She never answered any of their questions about herself or Homura; Homura never spoke to anyone, always ducking her head when someone talked to her, cheeks flushed. No one minded. Many knew her story, and what she was not willing to share, others were. The Magi would talk among one another, going over what they knew and what they thought to be true, theorizing about the exact nature of the relationship between them. After all, the only thing the Goddess would say is "She is my best friend". It was the only answer they would ever have.

And so the new Magi joined them and wondered at the music. Everyone knew of the Apostle, some denounced her as a myth (and were quickly and harshly corrected), but as the years passed fewer and fewer Magi came that had actually known the Apostle in life. The Incubators spoke of the Winged Archer often to give the newer Magi hope that they could attain something resembling immortality. Alas, none lasted more than a decade, and those were few in number; it seemed none had found a cause to fight for as the Guardian had. But when their lives were at an end and the Goddess brought them to Valhalla, they always commented on the music. It would take time to find Sineya, the first of the Puella Magi, who would tell the tale.

It started with a simple answer.

"It's the Chosen One."

Then it became more elaborate.

"The Archangel has played since she came here."

Confused looks and longer answers.

"She is the Chosen. She was the Instrument through which the world was forged into what it was meant to be. She found the Magi of the world to guide them, teach them, protect them just as she protected the world."

Until everyone knew.

"This was her charge, this was her task. Now she is home and only plays for the Goddess to bring her pleasure. This is her reward for it is all that she desires."

When new Magi came, the cycle began again. Sineya would tell the story, starting in the middle, returning to the beginning, and finishing at the end. She told the tale thus:

It started as a whisper.

"It's time."

Through it all the music never ceased and Homura, who played among the stars and gazed upon her Goddess, always smiled.

-fin-

Disclaimer: I do not own Puella Magi Madoka Magica/Mahou Shojou Madoka Magica.

AN: Kudos to anyone who knows who Sineya is. This idea has been bouncing in my head for some time now. I figured I should post it. Any feedback would be appreciated.

Au revoir,

Hatter