The embers in the fireplace crackled and danced up the chimney. A wooden log that had been burning for quite a while snapped in two and collapsed into the hearth.

"Stela.", a voice tenderly spoke.

Aster opened her eyes slowly, as if roused from a deep slumber. She moved her arm a little, as if to ascertain that she was really alive.

It must've been a nightmare, she thought. But why was she disappointed that it was a dream? She tried to sit up, but was surprised to find that she couldn't.

It was only then that she noticed the perceptibly large face of a woman staring down at her. She was certain that the face was that of a stranger, but for some reason she didn't feel scared. Instead, she felt a deep sense of affection and attachment towards the kind-faced woman.

Why? She wondered.

One of the requirements of being the Saintess was to shed all human emotions and ties that could prove to be a weakness or used as ammunition against her. So why did she feel indescribably attached to this woman?

Aster tried to open her mouth to speak but was surprised to find that she could utter only gibberish.

"Hush, my little girl. Hush.", the woman said to her, smiling oddly. It was only then that Aster realized that she was being held in the arms of this large and unknown woman. To the left, a wooden door opened and a spectacled, burly man with a button nose and a head of thick grey hair walked in.

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"Martha, let me hold her as well,", he cooed, reaching out for Aster clumsily with his right hand.

He held a bundle of books on his left hand, tied together roughly with a cotton cloth.

"There's not a chance I'd let you hold the baby while you have other things on hand." the large woman, whose name Aster inferred was Martha, stated bluntly.

Aster caught a glimpse of a few of the titles which were familiar to her - "200 Years of Peace" and "Battles never to be forgotten". Then, squished to the bottom of the pile, a thin book whose title could barely be discerned - "The Countess from the Villain's house is a Ballerina who loves." Aster blinked once, then looked at the scholarly looking man, then looked back at the book.

As if sensing something, the man put the books on a table, making sure to keep the thin one at the very bottom of the pile.

"If you weren't a newborn I might've suspected you knew what you saw.", he continued, in baby-talk. He pinched her nose lightly and poked both her cheeks. "Look at her big grey doll eyes Martha.", he said with an adoring smile.

Aster, at first shocked by the change in scenario, began to feel appalled by the indignity she felt she was being subject to. And worse of all, she didn't feel angry! Instead, she felt a warm and mellow sensation that calmed her nerves and assuaged any rising irritation that she might've felt.

She tried to speak out again, " babagugubabbrrr." The sounds came out. ("Don't touch my nose, undignified old man.")

"Gugubrrrrbababgggg.", she tried again, and then, before she knew it - she had dozed off.

****