[center][h2]Seekers of the First Flame[/h2][h3]Chapter 1: The Firelink Shrine[/h3][/center]
An unsettling wind passed through the Firelink Shrine, fanning the bonfire into a wild dance of flame that licked at the bottom of the cast iron cauldron seated upon it. A mouth-watering aroma of braised beef stew  wafted through the crisp, cold air. A woman dressed in a pitch black shawl that gently wrapped over her head stirred the pot slowly, watching the thick consistency of the broth practically cling to the spoon. Delwyn couldn't help but notice that the stew looked less than appetizing, but the smell was enough to bring back memories. The woman who he had come to know as the Masked Firekeeper, named after her porcelain mask in the shape of a crow's beak, turned to him and spoke in her gentle, foreign accent.
"I know that look, lad," She spoke whilst scooping up ladles of stew into a clay bowl, "Thinking about the past are we? Heed my advice and savor those memories. Consider yourself lucky to still be able to hold onto them in this wretched land". She handed the bowl to Delwyn. As he stared into the stew it only reinforced his memories of home. Without a moments hesitation he quickly put down his bowl and began scribbling notes down into his catalyst. The Firekeeper chuckled.

"There you go again with that journal of yours. Part of me considers prying into why you're so adamant about it. Though to be perfectly honest, such an exchange would be interpreted as a desire to grow closer to you. I'd prefer to avoid that if possible". After Delwyn finished writing down his recollection of memories into the catalyst, he stared up at the Keeper whilst indulging in a mouthful of stew.
"I believe sharing a meal with someone would constitute as a sign of companionship. This is delicious, by the way". As an undead, Delwyn had no need to eat. All he fed off of were souls now; souls and humanity. However being brought back to a simpler time by the home cooked meal was rather comforting. The Keeper continued to fill bowls of soup to spread around to the other undead who Delwyn had recently come into acquaintance with.
"Bah, do not flatter yourselves. This bonfire is my home. I happened to be preparing supper for myself. I didn't ask for you noisy lot to intrude". After filling bowls for everyone, the Keeper took a seat and reserved a bowl for herself. Delwyn knew she wouldn't eat in front of them; that would require the removal of the mask she was so fond of. Even despite the comforting meal, Delwyn still felt himself shiver under the cold night breeze. He stared up at the moon, wondering when the next time he would eat with Margaret and Isabella again.