> The greatness of a community is most accurately measured by the compassionate actions of its members. - Coretta Scott King

Nord's ears perked up at the sound of footsteps echoing through the manor. The distant murmur of voices grew louder, punctuated by the occasional shout and even a woman's cry. Her curiosity piqued, she pressed her ear to the door for a moment before cautiously cracking it open to peek into the hallway. Her eyes widened as she saw two men enter Rosemary's room across the way. They emerged moments later, carrying a lifeless form draped in white sheets. The sight sent a chill coursing through her.

Cautiously, Nord tiptoed closer to the staircase, her eyes darting to ensure she remained unseen. As she descended a few steps, the volume of the conversations below increased. Voices engaged in hurried talk, punctuated from time to time by the distressing cry of a woman.

As Nord descended the staircase, each step seemed to amplify the tension in the air. The murmur of voices came into focus, a mélange of tones and accents she couldn't place. The crowd in the foyer looked up as she reached the bottom step, their eyes a mix of curiosity, suspicion, and, in some cases, outright awe.

Adamastor stretched out his arms in her direction. "And as I told you, the new Morningstar, this is Nord. She arrived last night."

A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd at Adamastor's proclamation. Nord felt dozens of eyes examining her, measuring her worth and assessing her place in this new, bewildering landscape. It was overwhelming and somewhat disconcerting, yet she also felt a glimmer of something else—recognition? A sense of destiny unfolding?

"Nord, allow me to introduce you to Doctor Sirona, the Town's Healer," Adamastor gestured toward an elegant woman with a regal bearing and a circlet adorning her brow. Sirona extended her hand toward Nord, her eyes not just looking at her but seemingly through her as if gauging the depth of her soul.

"A pleasure, Nord. Your arrival has been... quite the talk among us," Sirona said, her voice imbued with a note of solemnity that suggested that being the subject of 'talk' among folks was no small matter.

Adamastor glanced at the sheet-covered form that had been carried out of Rosemary's room. "It's been a night of significant change, for better or worse."

Nord felt the weight of the room's attention upon her as if each individual was a node in a vast network, and she was the latest, most unpredictable element. The notion was both exhilarating and terrifying, but Nord found a strange sense of clarity in this moment of collective focus.

She was not on Earth but a stranger in a bewildering new world. But the people around her, in some sense, are now her new community. And if the words of her future self were to be believed, Nord had a role to play here, one whose outlines were only now beginning to emerge from the shadows.

Feeling both humbled and emboldened, Nord nodded at Sirona and Adamastor. "The pleasure is mine. It looks like we have a lot to discuss."

A chubby old man with the most friendly face she ever saw, holding on his vest, greeted her, "I am so glad to see you, Miss Morningstar. You have no idea how much this town needs you! I can't wait for the Morningstar to reopen its inn and salon!"

"Excuse me?"

Adamastor chuckled at the old man's enthusiasm before turning to Nord. "Nord, this is Mayor Paxton. He's been holding down the fort in the absence of a Morningstar."

Mayor Paxton beamed, his eyes twinkling like stars against his ruddy complexion. "Ah, yes! It's been far too long since we've had a Morningstar among us. Why, the inn and salon have been practically gathering cobwebs!"

Nord blinked, perplexed. "Inn and salon? I'm afraid I'm not following."

Adamastor cleared his throat and gestured for Mayor Paxton to elaborate. "Well, the role of the Morningstar is not just about holding the Hallow," the Mayor explained, adjusting his vest with a flourish. "You also serve as the steward of the community. The Morningstar Inn and Salon are part of that. They're... gathering places where folks can come to seek your guidance or just enjoy some respite in exchange for precious relics and trinkets to keep the beast at bay. And by the beast, I mean the Hallow, of course."

Nord raised an eyebrow. "So, I'm expected to run a hospitality business on top of... whatever else I'm supposed to be doing here?"

Sirona chimed in, her voice tinged with amusement. "Oh, don't worry. It's not as mundane as it sounds. The inn and salon are more like a no man's land between all races. They offer sanctuary and serve as a conduit for magical trade between humans, demons, and Puck, to name a few. The Morningstar's presence keeps them... in check."

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Adamastor nodded. "It's a tradition that goes back generations, and it's been sorely missed since Rosemary... left us."

Nord's head swirled with thoughts, each one jumbling over the other like waves in a stormy sea. She took a deep breath, trying to centre herself as she listened to the man's declarations.

"This is the family business!" The Mayor's voice was vibrant, filled with an almost evangelical enthusiasm. His eyes sparkled as he continued, "And this inn, this store, keeps you far away from the grasping, wretched fingers of the Hallow. But have no fear; we're all here to help. Things will return to normal. As they should be!"

Nord paused, taking a moment to absorb the man's words before asking, "The town needs the inn?"

"Oh, absolutely," the man replied, his hands forming energetic gestures as if he were conducting an invisible orchestra. "This inn welcomes travellers and adventurers from every nook and cranny of Nyu! It's not just a building; it's a landmark of Ravendrift!"

Nord's eyes narrowed, scepticism seeping into her gaze. "If it's such a landmark, such a cornerstone for the community, why did you let Rosemary rot for a whole decade?"

The Mayor's ever-present smile dimmed, if only for a moment, and his eyes flickered away. "Ah, well, not all questions have easy answers, do they?"

The weight of the unspoken history settled in the room like an uncomfortable fog, obscuring the easy camaraderie that had been present just moments before. The woman, her eyes still red from recent tears, broke the silence. "When Frank left us, Rosemary changed. It's as if the Hallow latched onto her sadness, draining her spirit. Nobody could get near her. We didn't even know she had passed until it was too late."

Nord's brows furrowed, her eyes flashing with an unfamiliar fire. "So you just left her? An elderly woman suffering, and no one thought to check on her? Adamastor told me she was loved by everyone, yet what I found was a woman who died alone. Every human being deserves the dignity of a funeral!" Her voice crescendoed the words crashing through the room like a torrential downpour.

A man stepped forward, uneasily adjusting his collar as he spoke. "Miss Morningstar, I understand how this might look to someone from the outside. But you must understand once the Hallow starts to feed, it's not safe for anyone to interfere. It's just how things are."

Nord stared at him incredulously. "What rule is that?"

"The next of kin is responsible for burying the previous vessel," the man said, almost as if reciting a long-standing law.

Another voice piped up from the back of the room, "It's perilous work. Even for someone like Adamastor. It's a miracle the lad survived the ordeal."

Nord clenched her fists, the tightness in her grip mirroring the swirl of conflicting emotions within her. Finally, taking a deep breath to centre herself, she asked, "When will Rosemary be ready?"

"Tomorrow. We should be able to give her a proper burial then," Sirona replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and lingering sorrow.

"Is there anything else expected of me?" Nord's voice took on a steely, almost stoic tone.

"For now, no, Miss Morningstar, we..." Mayor Nord began, but he was promptly cut off by Nord.

"Then, if you'll excuse me, tomorrow will be a full day for everyone, and we all need our rest."

"Nord..." Adamastor's voice quivered as he spoke her name, disbelieving that she was, in effect, dismissing everyone.

"I said goodnight! Or do I need to be clearer?" Nord's voice turned icy, her patience worn thin.

The room fell into a heavy silence, each person grappling with their own thoughts and regrets. One by one, they filed out of the room, leaving Nord alone in the growing shadows. She remained standing there, her thoughts a tangled mess, until the door clicked shut behind the last departing guest.

Only then did she allow herself to exhale, the pent-up breath carrying with it an intricate medley of emotions: relief, anger, and a tension that refused to dissolve.

"Nord, you need the support of these people," Adamastor said, his eyes reflecting a depth of concern.

"Seems like this place, despite its two moons, operates just like Earth. Is everyone really this self-centred? Is this what my ancestors have become? So, let me get this straight: I fulfil the town's needs and, in return, get some odds and ends to keep the Hallow at bay? Is that the gist?"

"That's the arrangement, yes," Adamastor admitted.

Taking another deep breath, Nord finally said, "I don't regret stepping into my sister's role. But everything here tastes like a nightmare."

Adamastor leaned against the railing, contemplating her words before responding, "There's goodness here too."

"Name one thing," she challenged.

Adamastor's face softened, his eyes wandering as if lost in a distant memory. "Well, Rosemary found happiness in Frank. She was truly happy for a time."

"She was abandoned, Adamastor! The moment she no longer served a purpose, everyone left her to rot!"

"People were scared," he countered softly.

"You weren't," she shot back, her eyes locking onto his.

"My condition is different," Adamastor said, almost as a confession.

Nord stared at him for a moment longer, her eyes searching his as if looking for some elusive truth. Finally, she sighed, her posture relaxing ever so slightly. "Different or not, you remained. That has to count for something."

"Ask me," Adamastor prodded.

"Ask you what?"

"Ask about my condition," he said, his gaze a blend of challenge and resignation.

"Is it important?" Nord raised an eyebrow, curious but cautious.

"It might be, especially if we share the same roof. And perhaps, once you know, you won't want me here anymore."

"Then why risk telling me?" she questioned, puzzled by his insistence.

"Because of you, I went into town today. I felt the sun's warmth on my skin, and it didn't harm me. It didn't burn. I can't guarantee I'll have the same experience tomorrow, but... You have no idea what a gift you've given me, even if it's just for a single day."

Nord furrowed her brow, trying to unravel his cryptic words. "I don't understand."

Adamastor's eyes met hers, intense and brimming with a vulnerability he rarely showed. "I'm a spawn, Nord. A vampire-spawn."