Aisu is a paladin that has sworn herself to the tenets of Bahamut. After a mission to eliminate the vampire Melisandre goes awry, her faith is tested in the face of such dangerous beauty.
Melisandre had thought more than once about how she would approach the door at the end of the hall. She knew her safety was assured, as long as she was necessary, but Mr. Alhorn had become unbearable in his power fantasy.
Ever since he found her dependency on blood, Mr. Alhorn had thought himself a master over her choices. To have a hold over what most would be afraid of gave him the belief that he was able to control death itself.
A fantasy that she'd hoped was interrupted by a bone stuck in his throat, or an unfortunate tumble down the stairs in the foyer.
The steps Melisandre took towards the master bedchamber had been slow and leisurely. Though her presence had been requested, there was never a specification on time.
When she drew close to the door, the sudden sound of humming caught her attention.
Her tongue flicked against the air, and observed that the door to her left was slightly ajar.
Melisandre was drawn towards it, pushing the door open to reveal a bedroom that contained a small bed, and a number of dolls sitting on shelves.
Standing before a small vanity was a young elven girl in a sapphire blue dress who appeared to be humming lovingly to her doll.
The girl looked into the reflection of her vanity and locked eyes with Melisandre momentarily before gasping.
She turned to face her, clutching her doll tight.
"Oh!" She froze for a second before slowly raising her hand and waving it. "Hi."
Melisandre looked to the doll, then to the girl. "Hello, young one. What is your name?"
"Kamaria." the girl responded, her voice muffled by her doll. "You're the vampire that father always talks about."
"Indeed."
"What's your name?"
"Melisandre."
There was a silence between the two of them that lasted enough time to become uncomfortable. With a grimace, Melisandre turned to leave the child to her toys.
Kamaria's voice halted her. "Wait! Did you wanna play Dolls?"
"Play Dolls?" Melisandre turned towards her again. "I don't indulge in such things."
"Oh, okay." She took a few daring steps towards her shelf where she procured another doll and brought it over to Melisandre. This one seemed to be made of older cloth, with a single eye missing. "We can play just for a little bit, then."
Melisendre stared at the doll, then begrudgingly took it into her hand. The fabric was soft, and it felt as though it would tear at any given moment.
Kamaria reached out and took Melisandre's hand so effortlessly that she hardly noticed it, then guided her towards the vanity.
In a tone that was clearly an attempt to sound motherly, Kamaria spoke while brushing her doll.
"I love playing Dolls. You get to take them in your arms, choose their outfits, and play with them whenever. It's like having a best friend that never leaves your side." Kamaria handed her brush to Melisandre, "here! Dolls love it when you brush their hair."
Melisandre took the brush, and began untangling the knots in the doll's unkempt hair.
Kamaria smiled approvingly. "Exactly. It also helps if you hum to them. Sometimes the dolls get scared if it's too quiet in the house, so hearing your voice helps them."
Melisandre looked curiously at Kamaria. "Do you get scared when it's quiet in the house?"
"No," Kamaria looked almost offended by the question. "The dolls do."
Melisandre's gaze flattened in disbelief, but knew better than to argue with a child. Instead, she looked back to her doll and resumed brushing its hair. Before she knew it, she was humming to it, and all at once she became mesmerized.
The doll was devoid of life until it was in her hands. It knew nothing else until she picked it up, brushed its hair, clothed it, or played with it. Holding something like this felt right, like her time and attention alone had been generous gifts that she was willing to bestow.
In return, the doll gave her a presence. Its smile was unchanging, even after it came to be in her hands.
"I think that doll likes you the most," the girl remarked.
"So it would seem."
"I make sure to brush each of their hair every day. Did you want to help me do that?"
Melisandre considered the doll, then Kamaria. "I suppose, if I have the time, I will stop by your room and assist you."
"Good." Kamaria reached out and took the doll from Melisandre before putting it back on the shelf. "They're going to be so happy with you."
"I see you're already taking the initiative on your task." Mr. Alhorn stood in the doorway, causing both Kamaria and Melisandre to address him. "I guess I can ignore your loose grasp on time given the circumstances. That, and I truly don't have the time to berate you."
Melisandre rolled her eyes, but kept her disdain to herself.
"Kamaria, sweetie," Mr. Alhorn turned his attention to her, "I'm afraid we're canceling your trip to see your cousins next week."
"What? But we go every year!"
"Well, we can't. This is our special year, and we need you to be present."
Melisandre curiously noticed something off about Mr. Alhorn's demeanor. Though he was paying attention to Kamaria, he was hardly looking at her. Every time his eyes would land on her, he was quick to shift them away.
Kamaria pouted and sat on her bed. "That's not fair."
"Sometimes the things that are forced upon us aren't always fair." Mr. Alhorn pivoted towards Melisandre. "I need to deliver a speech to the town soon. Would you mind watching her?"
Melisandre grimaced but nodded her head.
"Good." Mr. Alhorn puffed his chest and padded his pockets. "I believe I have everything, so I'll be off. I'll see you both at dinner tonight."
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To the people of Honeyfield.
It is with our great sorrow that this year's production of Ahnvae wine was not assisted by those families who have aided the expansion of our vineyard in the past.
We know the toll these last few decades have taken on you, and so on this decade the Alhorn family seeks to give you respite. For the beginning of this decade, we turn our efforts inward, and take on the burden of expansion onto our own shoulders. While this brings great sadness in our manor, our hearts will be warmed by the cheer felt within Honeyfield during this year's harvest festival...
