Day 1

In the next moment, I was looking at a ceiling I never knew existed. Is this the afterlife? It's a bit dirty. And warm. I turned my head to take in more of the surroundings and noticed a fire, cabinets made of some sort of white wood. I was laying on a bed, on a pillow of white and covered with equally white blankets. If this is the afterlife then it's filled with white. Which wasn't all that far from what I had expected.

The fire itself was contained within a fireplace, what a shock, and covered with stones. I moved the blanket off of my body and positioned myself out of bed. I checked for my clothes and was pleasantly surprised they were still on. I already knew this wasn't the afterlife. But now I knew that whoever had saved me didn't fondle me for compensation, and that my maidenhood was still safe. Probably. Hopefully.

Placing my, however, naked feet onto the floor I was taken by the coldness of it. I shouldn't have been, but I was still very tired and wouldn't mind resting a tiny sliver more. But I had enough rationality left in me to know that I should get to know whoever saved me first. And without a doubt, I was saved. Miraculously. I should be dead, by all accounts. And I doubt I was taken to be a slave, either.

Resolving myself I placed my feet onto the grey stone tiled floor, getting up off of the bed and once again taking in my surroundings. A fireplace, that one cabinet I had already seen, a door as well made of a similar wood as the cabinet. A light source that wasn't coming from a fire, too, was there. I could immediately tell it was magic both from the lack of fire and from the mana signature it gave off. Whoever saved me might've been a magician, or was very wealthy.

Walking over to the door I opened the metal knob and peeked outside. As I thought, it was still inside outside. Heh. A hallway, to the left of me a staircase and to the right another door at the end. I didn't want to pry too much on my savior's own business, so I walked down the stairs and into the lower floor. The staircase was made of wood, so were the stairs beneath it. So not all of the floor would be wood, then.

The room downstairs was eerily familiar, yet foreign. Wood flooring was what presented itself at the end of the staircase. Two doors, one near the stairs and another on a raised platform of grey stone. Some amount of patterns were on the surface of the stone, deliberate. As if laid out, intentionally. Nice furniture, too. It felt as if I was in a wealthy man's entrance and in his kitchen at the same time.

I ignored all that for the moment and looked over the nearest door. A latch was attached. I unlocked the door and peeked outside. A blast of cold air assaulted me in retaliation, quickly I closed the door and redid the latch. Alright, I figured out two things from this. This is the exit, and it's still blowing heavy snow outside. That's good to know.

I walked over to the door on the raised stone platform, careful not to make too much noise by hitting any of the furniture or kitchenware. If there wasn't anyone outside, or anyone out here, then there was a possibility my savior, or saviors, was behind this door. I placed an ear on it and listened. I heard nothing. I turned the knob and peeked itself.

Darkness. I opened it gradually, letting light from the magical lamp in the kitchen fill in the space. Where there was nothing, now there was a lot of something. What looked like pottery, or something similar. Bits of what might've been animals were laid everywhere. Torsos with oddly overlapping segments, legs and feets neatly arranged. What looked like the figures of tiny people could be occasionally seen. But none of it was moving.

With some amount of trepidation I made a call. "H-hello? Is anyone in here?"

I waited.

But nothing came. "Alright." I said, a bit softer in tone. I closed the door and made my way upstairs. There was no one down there, or at least no one awake. So all that is left is checking the only room I hadn't opened.

The floor didn't creak. Neither did the stairs, nothing did. This entire building must've been very well insulated, although the floor was cold it wasn't freezing. And it sure as hell was freezing out there.

Arriving at the pale door I decided to knock. No response came. I opened the door and let out the sound of my voice, but again no response came. The room was as dark as the last, if not more thanks to there not being any other source of light. I repeated myself again, but again nothing came. I slowly closed the door and headed back towards my room, to see if anyone might've been there.

Of course, no one was. The fire was still burning, and the magic lamp still on. But other than that, there was no sign of life. I went down stairs and started to inspect my surroundings.

All of the furniture was expertly crafted. Even my layman's eyes could tell, all the lines were straight and the curves elegant. Some amount of patterns and embellishments were present on some of the cabinets, and the table placed near the left wall was flat and, in some areas, held human like faces in various contortions of emotions flowing along the apron. It was a work of art, and the faces were, while stylistic, frighteningly human. I picked a chair, of which there were only two, and sat on it.

The table was made of a darker kind of wood. The chair shared the same type, or at least color, as the table as well. Neither of the chairs were as elaborate as the table they belonged to, but it was comfortable and felt both well used but incredibly sturdy. I didn't want to check any of the cabinets. I wasn't a thief, I was most likely the guest of either a very kind man, or kind couple.

I ran my fingers across the wooden faces. I felt their mana signatures, tasted it on my fingers. My sight could only give me so much information, and I knew from sight alone that everything here was in some way enchanted. Not heavily so, but without feeling it I wouldn't be able to tell what kind. On the table it felt like an enchantment to harden the wood a bit. It certainly could get harder, the amount of mana inside was not at its peak saturation point.

I watched the patterns the enchantment formed itself into. A person can vaguely tell how skilled the work is by either how dense the mana or how elaborate the patterns if it wasn't a deep and true enchantment. The patterns I could see within weren't marvelous, I've seen better. Rarely, but I have. But this was skilled. From the taste of it, the aesthetic of it alone, I could tell it was designed by a light-aligned craftsmen. Those people force things into shape rather than subtly move them. That had a lovely quality of its own, of course. It wasn't bad.

Certainly better than whatever I could make.

I moved my attention away from the chair and table and into the kitchen. Cast iron pans and iron knives could be seen. Some were hanging, others were laying flat on what looked to be a stone table. It was a small one, and below it there were stone drawers. The stone itself was the same as the stone below, and the stone that the walls were also made of. I didn't take a peek in there. A fire place was set up in the corner, a single spider pan nearby. That is, a pan with a couple of legs attached to it.

Everything felt lived in but tidy. I'm starting to like whoever lived here, whoever it is either very wealthy or very skilled and conscientious. Of course, also kind considering I was saved. I wonder how long he'd let me stay here for? Surely for as long as the blizzard lasts, at least. And if I can prove myself useful perhaps indefinitely.

But that all depends on the information I can get from him, or them. Sitting down on the chair once again I waited and began to lay out my plans. With nothing to do and me too courteous I waited for someone's, anyone's, arrival.

I played with my tail for a while. Groomed my hair as best as I could, not having a comb I couldn't do much with it. Touched my ears, they were still there. They weren't taken by frostbite, thankfully. Neither was my tail, its black fur as alluring as ever. Tens of minutes flew by as I waited. I was well acquainted with waiting and I certainly could stay here for a long time. But there are things to explore. And things to explore is something I can't ignore forever.

Deciding to break some courtesy I decided to explore the drawers. Foodstuff, mostly. Bread, what looked to be meat in another. The drawers themselves were probably enchanted to maintain freshness. Another drawer looked to contain some tableware, and another a couple of utensils. Everything but the utensils were common. I picked up what looked to be a fork, three prongs making up its pointy bits. I poked the tips and felt their sharpness. It didn't break skin but it was indeed very sharp.

"Prying on my things, dear wench?"

I shot to look behind me, placing the fork back into the drawer and then quickly redrawing my hands back as close as me as I could. A man, his eyes fiery and deep set, clad in colorful clothes and covered in particles of snow, watched me. He was in the process of removing his hood, letting long strands of hair to be revealed and his pale skin to become obvious. He wasn't near to me, but his presence was sudden. I didn't hear a thing. I didn't feel a thing, not a shift in the mana in the room.

"N-no, I was bored, and I had been waiting for so long for someone's arrival that I couldn't help but want to explore. I didn't mean to pry, uh, good sir." My voice spoke too quickly at first, but I managed to lay out a more spaced layering by the end. The man didn't respond, instead he continued to take off the heaviest of his clothes.

Laying his cloak and taking off his boots, almost ignoring my presence after instilling in me the fear of a snoop, I waited and watched. I didn't move. I was on my knees, as the cabinet to the utensils was low. I took the time he had decided to spend undress to take everything in. I needed some information, where I was, and more importantly I needed to make him know I'm not a thief, and am actually very thankful for his help.

As far as I could be concerned, he was a godsend. I'm not so callous as to ignore genuine help.

"Uh, um. Good sir? I really didn't mean to pry, I-"

"I was merely teasing you, girl. I knew from the moment I touched your skin that you were a magician, and as a magician you'd know the importance of certain magics." Almost teasing if not for the monotone expression of his voice, I collected the information presented and paused to reconsider my words. He's right, I am a magician. A fork would not be what I would steal. The lamps are much more valuable, and seeing as I was inspecting the utensils rather than attempting to steal the lamps, I wouldn't be a good thief.

"Thank you for your frank forgiveness, good sir. I promise, now that you are a here, that I won't snoop around your stuff."

The good sir finished taking off his boots, revealing his pale feet and lifting himself to his full height. I had thought the boots and cloak were making him more visually impressive than he truly was, but now I see I was mistaken. He was, by sight alone, a cultivator of the essence of light.. And further, he was a man of significant height. I nodded at his standing, for whatever reason. I felt the need to nod at seeing him stand.

"And when I'm gone," he turned to stare at me, "I assume you'd get bored enough to search my home?" No smile was on his face. Some unknown pressure started to well up inside me, the pressure of conviction. I had made a verbal slip.

"N-no, no no, no. Of course not. I didn't mean it that way, sir. It's just..."

A smile broke on his face. A small one. Barely noticeable, and I might've missed it if reading this man's mood wasn't the difference between getting kicked out and staying. I needed him to not see me as a threat to his property. A smile, however small, might have been a good sign. I want to get to know him better before I threw at him the worse of my tricks, and if I played my hand wrong I might end up with a very bad end.

He waited for my response, staring at me without moving. Only a tiny bit awkward. "It's just that, yes, I do get a bit bored at times."

A quick smile, a show of good spirit rather than genuine, broke through his face and as quickly left. "You'll have to make do with what I have and am willing to offer, then. My voice and words would be the entirety of it, sadly. There is little else you can do to pass the time. And I'm very interested in how you've wound up in the Morrígu Pianura, the open field between my forest and the country onward."

The good sir gestured for me to get up, which I hesitantly did. He drew out a chair, and then drew out another. Sitting on the one closest to the entrance door, he waited for me. Most likely to have me sit. I wasn't that comfortable doing so, the sitting position was a bit more intimate than I would've preferred given that it was right next to each other. I moved over and also moved the chair to face another side of the table. Then I sat down.

"Understandable." Was all he gave. I nodded. "Make yourself comfortable. I have some questions that I want answered before I serve you a meal, if you haven't already helped yourself to one." Running his hand through his hair he looked at me, an eye almost in the corner. His long, blond hair was beginning to cover his face with strands, it's understandable why he moved it so.

"Good sir, I do appreciate you helping me. Truly, by all rights I should be dead. But, I think these accusations of theft should be stopped. I'm not a thief and I do not appreciate being called one." I tried to place my best serious face, my back straightening and my hands on my lap. I am not a docile kitten for him to make fun at.

"Sorry," that was easier than I thought, "It's been a long time since I've interacted with anyone. Forgive me if I tried to have some fun at your expense. Let's ignore all that and get to the questions, I'd prefer them answered immediately."

I straightened out my back further and waited, giving him a nod.

"Did you intend to walk out into the plains within this blizzard?"

"No, I was caught within it one day and tried my best to survive for a couple of days. I had little wood, and little fire. Once it ran out, I had decided to die somewhere but where I had stayed shelter. I wasn't thinking straight, I preferred to die walking rather than to die in a sad little forgotten hole in the ground." This was all true, and I had no reason to lie to him with this. So I told the truth as I remembered it. He gave a polite nod, turning his eyes down to the table.

"I see. Perhaps you've been guided by the divine, I had been out walking my usual pattern of walking," why the hell was he walking in a blizzard? "And I wouldn't let a little snow break that habit. I sensed an oddly dense amount of mana and had decided to check it out. In little than a minute of walking I had found a small cat, black and cold bitten, laying and slowly being covered within snow."

I nodded. Whatever eccentricity this man has could be overlooked for now. I'll also assume the small cat was me, I was part feline after all.

"But this isn't about me. To the next question. Are, or were, you alone?" I nodded. He nodded too. "I see. Then the last one, why are you alone?"

None of your business, that's why. But I couldn't answer him with that. I bit my lips, my sharp canine threatening to pierce through my skin. Do I answer him truthfully? A partial truth, but no lie. "I was driven out by my village. I am not an outlaw, on the divine I swear and oath to on this, but my circumstances are too personal for me to discuss to a stranger. Even when that stranger was my savior. Again, I give my thanks, and I beg your pardon."

"I'm not one for prying myself. Very well, I'll trust you. I had a final question but I think I already know the answer. I'll ask anyway. Do you wish to stay until the winter storm breaks, kitten?"

I narrowed my eyes. I'm sure others might think it cute to keep calling me by my feline qualities, but there's a limit of my tolerance. "If it wouldn't displease you, I would prefer that. And it's Eithne, good sir."

The good sir's eyes widened at that and he gave a slight chuckle, brushing his hair with his hands once again while looking away. As if bashfully. "Names! Names, I thought I was forgetting something. Sorry Eithne, I'll remember yours. Through the years I've gone by many names, but for you I'll give you the one given to me in birth."

Extending his hand out to me, as if to shake with me, he gave me his name. "Alfred." A gave him a smile and shook his hand. He perhaps was putting more strength into it than he intended, it sort of hurt.

"Good sir Alfred."

"Just Alfred, it's simpler that way."

"Alfred." He nodded his head and let go of my hand, to my relief. Getting up off his chair he moved on over to the kitchen, which was only a few steps away from him anyway.

"Now, you are my guest. And as your patron I'm obliged to serve you a meal. It's been a couple of days since the beginning of the snow storm, so forgive me if I don't have as much as you'd prefer." Alfred crouched down and lit a fire through magic alone. A short casting of a spell, no words were spoken, and very little signature could be seen from his magic. He was both skilled and knowledgeable on natural magic, then.

I gave a polite smile back. "Anything you can give would be fine. I'd be fine with eating nothing, but I'd prefer to have some drink."

He looked over at me and straightened his posture out. "If I've got your story correctly, you've been left alone in a hole for at least four days. I doubt you've had enough food on you to last you through all that time. Don't be so humble, girl."

How patronizing. I maintained my smile and nodded. I would've preferred if he didn't carry his kindness so heavy handily, but I can't complain. It'd be wrong of me to complain, actually. "Thank you, Alfred."

He nodded as he opened up a drawer and took out a bowl full of what looked to be cubed lard. He grabbed a cube, which was roughly an inch by inch in dimension, and threw it on a pan that had already been set near the fire. For all the technology he held the lack of a magically enchanted fire stove was evident. Those were costly to use in terms of mana, and costly in general. But from observing everything in this house I doubt cost was an issue.

"I have a couple of steaks and vegetables still left. Let's have you eat that. You don't mind, of course."

"Of course."

He gave a laugh at that. What's so funny?

I watched as he set aside the piece of steak out of the drawer and took out several other vegetables with it as well. Garlic, some sort of leafy herb, long green sticks that looked like asparagus. I watched as he seasoned and prepared the precut slice of meat, and I wondered how long ago was the last time I had meat from an animal larger than a squirrel. Maybe years? Or perhaps only a year, I had splurged once and decided to try out steak with mom.

Let's not think about those memories for now.

Alfred placed the slice of steak, sizzling becoming apparent, and also placed a couple of sticks of asparagus alongside it. He flipped it once he thought it was good enough, I guess, and added another more cube of lard on top of the steak. The lard melted, and eventually everything was done. Taking out a piece a dish from a drawer, he seemed to really like playing things in those drawers, he placed everything on a plate and then put the plate on the table, in front of me.

He gave me a knife and a fork, both of which I accepted. Then he sliced a piece of bread and gave that to me also. Looks like I'm going to be very full tonight.

With some amount of trepidation, and some amount of saliva control, I nodded at everything in front of me. "Thank you, Alfred. This might be too much for someone like me, though."

"It's all I have."

I looked over at Alfred, he deciding to ignore me and opened the door to the creepy room filled with strange miniature body parts. "I assume you've also went in here,"

"Yes. May I eat, Alfred?"

He turned to me with a quizzical look. He opened his mouth and lifted his finger, but closed it and reconsidered his thoughts. "You're being too polite with me, Eithne. Please, eat."

I gave no response and started to dig in. It had taken most of my self control not to inhale the meal the moment it was presented to me, rather than scolding me for my politeness he should be complimenting me on my level of self-control. Perhaps it was the hunger talking, or perhaps Alfred really was a good cook, but I've never tasted a meal so good and hearty in my life. If I were a man I'd ask for his hand on the spot.

"Enjoy the meal." I heard the clink of a door closing behind me. I ignored it, and I certainly was going to enjoy this.

The meal flashed by me, I don't think I truly tasted anything beyond the savoriness of the steak. Or maybe I had? I can't remember. It's certainly not that I was poisoned, I ate too fast and chewed too little. By the time I had gone back to my senses I was once again alone. I didn't know how Alfred dealt with his dishes, so I set the fork and knife down and considered my options. I could spend some amount of times thinking about my interactions with Alfred and what I can do to get in his good graces, hopefully for as long as he'd let me stay.

Or I could acquire new information. His lifestyle and what he does, and why he's out here, would be a good start. Light aligned cultivators are a rare enough sight, stories of these kinds of people living out in the woods as hermits isn't uncommon. Was he one of those? There were two chairs, after all. But that was all the evidence I had for that thought. I don't think finding out more information out of him before I try to decide my future actions would be bad.

That settles it. I can't go outside and from what I can tell, there was nothing to wash the dishes with. So I left the plate on the table and knocked on the door that Alfred had walked into. An irritated voice came back.

"Come in." Did I do something wrong? How do I make up for this? Shit. What did I do?

I creaked the door open and peeked inside. Light was shining, and what I was presented with was a less creepy version of what I had peeked into last time. A lot of what looked to be clay dolls, body parts laid around. None looked real, all looked to have been made of clay. Most of it was white, some of it was darker, and very few red. This wasn't like any pottery I've seen or been to. I couldn't tell from the darkness, but all of these things look frighteningly real! If it weren't for their strange colorations and lack of blood, I would've thought they were real beings.

"Alfred?" I asked, keeping my voice sweet.

"Eithne. I should've told you not to disturb me, but not saying was my own fault. How was your meal?" Alfred was in the corner of a room, sitting on a chair. His hands looked wet and had some sort of white substance on it. In front of him laid another clay sculpture, the body of a doll. This one looked complete, frighteningly human from afar. I wonder if that would stay the same if I got closer?

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But, I had disturbed him. That was the cause of his irritation. But given that he is still being polite it wasn't an impasse. "Sorry, Alfred. I'll remember that from now on. I wanted to figure out what you were up to, and to ask if there is a way for me to clean the dishes?" My voice lost some of its sweetness. Overdoing it backfires, and to begin with I don't think Alfred is being influenced by it much.

He gave me a look from the corner of his eye. "I don't blame you. Taken into a stranger's home after resolving yourself to death, and losing conscious in the middle of a snow storm, you've adjusted well all considering. Come here. Mind all the parts, don't break anything. For your own sake, not mine."

That was a genuine threat. I nodded and walked over to his seat, carefully making sure I don't step on anything on the ground. Not that there was anything there. My hands were kept near my chest, and my tail wrapped around my hips. Even my ears were flat, not entirely of my own volition. My ears told me more about my moods than I could myself. I was a bit scared was what they were telling me now.

I arrived next to him and inspected his work. The figure looked more real up close than it did from afar. It was a cute thing, small and dainty. Its features were perfect, its face was enough to make me grow green in envy, if it weren't a sculpture, that is. "You've made this? All this?"

"Who else but I? Yes, this is my work. My life's work. My life's passion. No more words are needed for that, respect my pieces when you come in here. If even a single one were to be broken by you, I will throw you out into the snowy winds without hesitation. Do you understand?"

He fed me, saved me, and now is threatening to indirectly kill me? What a complicated man. I'd laugh if my ears weren't so tightly clutched to my head. I knew I wouldn't be able to fake confidence in this situation, and if all he asked of me was to not break his things, I'd be a savage to be offended. I nodded, "Yes, Si- Alfred. Understood."

"Good. Yes, I'm an artist. My life's goal has been to produce a lifelike piece of art. My friends say I'm getting closer by the day, but the more I adventure into these depths the more lost I feel in the amount I've yet to perfect." A solemn shadow fell over Alfred's face. "My passion is doll making. Specifically of articulated dolls, the more articulate the better. Ball joints are what I've rested on for the majority of my work, as you can see."

Alfred moves the right hand of the naked and bare doll, moving the individual fingers and the elbows. Even the shoulder could articulate up and down, both literally and within the socket. The amount of movement was lifelike.

"There's nothing more to me. You're a magician, yes? Then you've seen the enchantments I'm capable." Alfred moved his thumbs over the face of the doll, affectionately. "And my body I'm sure you've also seen. Not hard to piece in the puzzles."

"Yes... you're a light aligned cultivator, I can tell that much easily. Do you belong to any school?"

Alfred chuckled. "Lass, no school spends their time cultivating the art of non-lethal craftsmanship. I'm solitary, although I do have friends who share some of my passions."

"Do you mind my prying?"

Before answering Alfred took up a tool, what looked to be a paint brush, and began to apply paint on the doll. "Not so far, no. I'll tell you when I don't want to speak. If it's about my dolls, I implore you to ask," he said while applying a soft red to the lips of the sculpture. How pretty. That wasn't a feature common in any other of the sculptures in this room.

And, sure, they're pretty, and they're cute. But I can't care beyond that, and I don't want to force myself to. I smiled, but something in his eyes told me he knew that my smile was plastered on, not genuine. But I continued. "If you'll allow a bit of frankness, I don't have an interest in dolls or sculptures. But I am interested in you."

Alfred carried the look in his eyes, the beginning of non-friendly suspicion. "A shame. Eithne, if I'm to be frank too, you're attempts to manipulate me aren't appreciated."

"Beg your pardon?" Shit. Should I stop, then? How?

"Your forced smiles, your gratingly sweet voice. I will not throw you away and neither do I have an interest in your body. Be genuine with me. I've not had human contact in a long while and I don't want to play the social mind games of women." I messed up. But he's giving me plenty of bait to hang on to. I let go of my smile and took a step back. I felt that now would be the correct time to let my frustration with his actions show somewhat. But I ruthlessly curbed the feelings, not now. Wait a couple of days, if ever.

"Very well. I'm sorry to bother you, Alfred. I'll... go do something else then. Anything."

"Giving up on the questions, then?"

"Reluctantly. I feel I've took too much advantage of your kindness, I appreciate your warning. I've never meant to offend."

Alfred smiled, a sarcastic one. "At least you admit it, even if tactically. The room you've slept in is yours. I've arranged for you new clothes. You stink, kitten, and unfortunately I've not designed my house to include an indoor bath. However, there is a towel and a bucket, along with soap. Use that, then change your clothes."

Now would be a good time to blush. I didn't respond, but instead carefully moved my way out of the room. That was plain rude, and uncalled for. Can you blame a girl for making herself pleasant and presentable? What a bore. I closed the door behind me, Alfred didn't say a word after I had left.

I'll wash myself. Obviously, of course. I'm a lady, even if I've only turned of proper age recently. I walked to and up the stairs and back into my new gifted room, Alfred had not told me where the clothes he had offered me were placed. If they were anywhere, it would be in this room, right? But where? I doubt he had went up the stairs and placed all the clothes after I had woken up. So, it would have to be in a cabinet.

The room was exactly as I had left it. The fire that didn't look to run out of flame, and the light that still shone. If I'm to sleep here I would need to figure out how to turn that thing off.

I moved over to the cabinet, which was placed next to the end of the bed, and opened the top drawer. A couple of black clothes were arranged within, matching the color of my own clothes. How considerate of Alfred to give me matching clothes, or to give me clothes at all. Too bad he had to insult me in order to inform me of it. Why'd he have to be so rude?

I took out the largest piece, a black dress that would probably fall down to my knees. Peculiar. Dresses should reach to the ankles normally, was I missing a piece? It was a frilly thing, some amount of white had been adorned around as pointless frilly decoration. It didn't look bad. I set it aside and continued to inspect the gifts. Strange and short trousers were inside, white and also frilly at the end. Alfred likes frills.

Another black cloth, not as long as the dress but looked to be a skirt. I guess that's where the rest of the dress was. A pair of white socks were also inside. But nothing to keep my breasts behind another layer of modesty, I'm not sure if I should take that as an insult or something worse. Just because I didn't have as much fat on my chest on other women doesn't mean I don't need to wear bras, Alfred.

I'd have to remain without a bra, then.

Don't laugh.

That looked to be the entirety of the clothes I had been given. I'll have to figure out how to wear them, but later. I already got a rough idea of how everything is worn, for now I'll wash myself. But where would the bucket and towel be? I inspected the inside of my room. There was nothing beside the fire, and nothing next to the bed except for the cabinet. Next to the cabinet, then?

Ah, how did I not notice it? A wooden frame and iron loops, a bucket filled with water laid. A towel with a small, round bar of soap laid next to it. This is going to be a bit difficult and time consuming to do, but this is the best I got. I took off all my clothes, checking to see if no one opening or peeking through the door while I did so. No one was, neither did I hear footsteps. But from experience I know Alfred can be dangerously quiet with his movement.

I dipped the towel into the water and once it had gotten wet enough, took it out and began to rub it across my body. Once wet, I dunked the soap into the water as well and began to scrub myself. I did this for a while, until most of my body was covered, and then began to rub it off using the still wet towel. I did this as many times as it needed to be done, squeezing the towel to remove any dirt or grime on it, and once I was satisfied the water inside the bucket was dark and mirky. I knew I was dirty, this didn't come as a surprise.

I hoped I'd smell better. I'd gotten use to my own smell, and given that I had been out for weeks in the wild alone and trying to survive it wasn't much of a problem. Up until now, that is. I moved over to the clothes which I had arranged ontop of the bed and began to think about the correct order of dress. The short trouser looking things would have to be worn first. So these are underwear, then. I hope they fit, there was a lace at the top that could be tightened so I imagine I could make it fit.

I put it on, one feet and then another, and noticed that it had already fit pretty well. Just a bit of tightening and everything would stay. Next would be the skirt. How would I wear this? Another long belt like lace was at the end of it, so I'd have to repeat the pattern. It, again, fit rather well. The dress would be easy, I've worn plenty of dresses before. My old clothes, which were ragged, hole filled, and somewhat dirty was also a dress.

On closer consideration, perhaps Alfred was being more than polite in ignoring how unsightly I was. My ears once again were pulled close to my head. Shoot.

All that was left to put on were the socks. I should've put it on when I get this short dress in place, it's going to be a slightly more difficult to move myself into position to get them over my feet.

I sat on the bed and tried to move my feet closer to my body, getting the mouth of the sock inside and jamming my feet it in. Surprisingly I didn't feel any resistance from the dress. It was either made of something elastic, or just very, very well made. I did the same with both feet and then tried to stretch the dress on my body. It didn't have much elasticity. Which meant, it was very well made.

I got up and walked around my room, careful not to get my dress caught in the fire. It wasn't long, the skirt underneath only went to my ankles. But it was easy to move in, and stuck pretty close to my body. Not indecently so, it gave enough room for me to breath. But it was on the tighter side of things, all considered. But it felt snug, it felt right. Almost like it was measured just for me. The thought echoed in my mind once again. Measured just for me.

How long was I out for? What did Alfred do to me while I slept? Do I actually still have my maidenhood? There are ways to check for that. Some indecent, some very simple. I knew precisely one, and it was an intuitive as breathing for me, considering it was magical. I knew some rudimentary amount of healing magic, and one method would be to observe myself through my magic flow. If something is obstructed or injured, I would know. Or if it moved in any different pattern, I would also know. Knowing yourself is vital for magic, after all.

I sat down again and entered into a light state of meditation. I trace along my nether regions to feel for anything odd. Nothing, it felt as it always did. I could be relatively sure I've not been touched by Alfred in that way. But that doesn't mean he didn't measure me while I was asleep.

When the weather has cleared up I'll confront him about it.

I don't know how long it'll last, however. I don't know what time of day it was to begin with. This is going to be a long and disorientating stay, I could feel it.

Alfred didn't want me to interfere with his work. And I don't know how long he'll be working for, it could be all day. Light cultivators could very literally work all day, everyday, if they wanted. Not even stopping to eat. I'm going to have to figure out a way to spend my time, even just sewing all day would be more worthwhile than this. Let's organize what had happened to me so far.

I explored the house, met Alfred, was told to wash and given new clothes. That's where I'm at so far. From the verbal cues given, I think Alfred had expected me to snoop around his house. There was a water bucket, soap, and clothes left for me in a cabinet that I had refused to explore out of politeness. And it was for me, as Alfred had said so. Would a bit of exploring be acceptable, then? I'll try it.

I got up and moved out of the room, keeping my gait casual and my posture loose but confident. The door didn't creak when open, although it was hinged. I wonder if even the hinges are enchanted? I could explore the enchantments when I'm bored enough.

The door to the end of the hallway contained a room I hadn't yet explored. I stepped over to the door and placed my hand on the knob. I tested it and it wasn't locked. I opened the door carefully and tried to see what was inside. Again, there was no light to see anything with. It was dark. How could I get light going? Alfred in his strange doll making room had managed to turn on the lights. It must've had a magical switch.

Try to recall traditional formulas for magical lighting, Eithne. I've been to one before, the mansion of a family that I had been trading my silk fabric to. The little lady had shown me around her room and even taught me some basic spells. One of them was the spell for turning off and on the lights of her home. Perfect. I remember now. I flickered fire mana in my hands, extending it outward, and waited for the response from the lights. Eventually, it came.

It was a time thing. Flicking fire mana for a couple of seconds will turn off or on the light, depending on its current state. Looks like Alfred relies on some level of recent tradition, then. He isn't ancient, unlike some cultivators. Telling the difference can be hard when it comes to hermits.

But I'll ignore all that. The room inside was neatly furnished, rugs were laid under tables and on top were various tiny humans in strange postures. Some looked as if they were in the middle of a fight, others as if nothing at all was happening. Some casual, some graceful, some lazy and indolent. All were breathtaking.

But these weren't little people. They were dolls, most likely the dolls that Alfred had made. No, definitely Alfred had made these. I walked along, remembering Alfred's warning of not breaking anything, and looked at each of the dolls. They were on top of smooth and somewhat glossy wooden tables and cabinets, some were hidden behind glass planed doors within those cabinets. Their clothing were colorful, from deep black similar to what I wore, to vibrant blues, greens, and reds. This might've been the most expensive room I've ever walked into.

I moved my tail closer to my hips. I didn't want it to move and hit a doll.

Some of the dolls had odd features. One was deathly pale, wearing brown trousers and a green cloak of floral decorations. Her ears were long, and her eyes a deep green. She held an odd spear, mid spin in her fingers. The shirt she wore looked fancy, as if a nobleman's. Even her hair was an odd color, green as if literally made of leaves. I've never seen a people like this.

A small group of these strange girls were collected together, all of them similar but each bore the mark of individuality. Some had different spear shapes, others different patterns or different cloak designs. One wore a skirt that reached only to her knees, like my dress had. Some of them even had a deep, almost oak like brownness to their skin, and odd colored eyes. Another group of little people with strange, almost knife like ears were a mixture of brown and white skinned people. None of these groups had spears, instead elaborately designed trinkets in hand.

I hummed. Moving on to another table, this time much more human. Swordsmen, spearmen, bowmen, all sorts of military men were standing there. Some were obviously cultivators, others obviously magicians. But this wasn't as interesting as the strange knife-eared folk, so I moved on. This isn't to say they were less quality, just much more mundane.

I moved along like this, noting the occasional strange people when I caught eye of them. At one point I came across one of my own kind, a catamarán with dark hair like mine. Her eyes were a green rather than a blue, but otherwise she looked strikingly like me. Except much prettier. How enviable. Her clothes were a similar black, but the hem of her dress was frilly and white. The only difference that I could see between her dress and my own. Did she wear the same underwear as I did?

Against my better judgement I gently lifted up the little doll's skirt and peaked inside. A white, short trousers greeted my sight. Her knees were lightly blushing and her skin was a nice pale, but not unnatural, color. Why am I doing this?

"Normally only young boys and teenagers would do that, Eithne."

A sharp inhale and a quick release of the dress came from me. I turned my head to the voice and saw Alfred standing closer than he had any right to, given that I hadn't heard him until he spoke. Why does he keep doing this?

We had a staring contest for a while. Me slightly hunched over, having been trying to peek under the dress of a lady, and him with his hands behind his back and his eyebrows raised mockingly in a slight worry. I don't know what emotion I was feeling, either murderous rage or wanting to crawl into a hole and die. Why not combine both? No, move onto damage control.

"It's not what it looks like."

"I believe you. I bet you were wondering how much attention I put into the piece is all. I've heard that excuse before." Alfred nodded in sympathy, but that only exacerbated whatever strange feeling was beginning to well up in me. I straightened myself out and put my hands behind my back, looking squarely at Alfred's fiery eyes. I doubt I looked as confident as I was attempting to be.

"N-no, I mean, she's wearing clothes that are almost identical to mine. And, you know, she's like me and all."

"If you were tiny Miss Catamarán, would you accept that excuse?" If I were the catamarán? The doll, he meant? Uh, no. I stayed in silence, moving my gaze away from Alfred's accusing eyes.

Alfred chuckled. I'm growing to be annoy by that laugh. It was too smooth, too natural, too genuine and yet friendly. "Of course not. Just like I won't lift up your skirt to see if you wore the bloomers I had gifted to you, don't do the same for my children." Alfred fixed the dress of the catamarán and adjusted his posture.

Embarrassment assaulted me at my very core. This man was vexing. So what if I wanted to peak at the underwear of a doll? It's not alive. And calling them your 'children'? Even a skilled craftsmen should have a sense of shame and not call inanimate objects with that title. But I didn't say a word of that, instead continuing to avoid Alfred's gaze. I wasn't sure if he was still looking at me, and perhaps he wasn't.

I gave a hesitant glance over to Alfred. He wasn't looking, instead fixing up the hair of the catamarán and making sure her ears were perky. It was creepy how my clothes looked so similar to the little doll, did he purposely give me these? Of course he did.

"A-And, what about you? Why'd you give me these clothes if you didn't want to creep on my wearing it?" I gave my best glare. Neither my words nor my gaze seem to affect the composure of this perverted man.

"To an extent. Given your resemblance to Miss Catamarán it'd be a shame if I didn't dress you up in a similar fashion." Satisfied with the doll's hair he lifted his arms off and looked at me one again. "It'd be a shame to not take advantage of opportunity when idle and harmless curiosity can be satisfied, right?"

"And my own curiosity over the dress of the doll is shameful, hypocrite?" I raged at this, letting a bit of my anger through my voice finally.

Alfred smiled again and turned away, moving across the the floor and towards another section of figures, leaving me to fume on my own. He kept his eyes wandering around the dolls as he answered, "I've been nothing but sympathetic."

"You knew what you were doing."

"Maybe."

"And yet you chastise me for my own manipulation."

Alfred turned back to me, hurt almost in his eyes but a slight smile on his lips. "Have I? You've got me there, Eithne. But you're going to have to learn how to deal with my teasing if you're to stay here for long. A couple days visit by a stray cat won't change that, unfortunately."

I didn't answer, I stayed looking at him with my indignation at full show. He again looked away and asked, "Interested in an introduction to my works?"

"No, thank you, Sir Alfred."

"You hurt me. How do the clothes fit? I had to eyeball them, excuse my looking."

We're not going to change the topic, and I'm not going to let go of the pressure. "Calling on the crimes of another while having only recently done the same crime yourself?"

"You had no bloomers, or underwear to speak of. Not the same crime at all."

"You! Y-you! Perverted freak, deviant, lecher!" I've heard enough. I don't want to deal with this man anymore, and I have no way out of this wretch's home. I walked myself out of the room, careful not to hit any of the dolls while moving. I closed the door behind me, not enough to topple any of the dolls. I knew his threat, I knew his warning. He might be a lewd pervert, but he was still my savior. He'd be a fine man if he simply kept his mouth shut.

Alfred didn't say anything as I left. I leaned against the door and checked my breathing. It was a bit fast. My heart, too, was beating faster than it should've been. Was I this angry? I didn't feel it. My face was on fire, why was it so hot in here? There was no fireplace in this hallway.

Stupid. Idiot. I don't need this. I repositioned myself into my room, closed the door and threw myself into the bed. It was a nice bed, I could say that confidently. I wasn't tired but I wouldn't mind resting on it for a bit. But I couldn't handle the thought of myself having to interact with that man for too long. When will the snowstorm end? When would I get my release out of this sentence? I don't know. I don't even know what time it is!

I collected myself. I laid in silence, staring at the ceiling. Perhaps an hour had flew by the time I had rearranged my thoughts on this situation with a less emotionally distorted lens. Alfred had only teased me slightly for creeping on the underwear, or 'bloomers' as he called them, of one of his dolls. And he had said I stunk. Only the latter was much of a problem in the long run.

I need to remember my circumstances. So far I've been scrapping by in the wilderness, barely getting enough food and barely any meat at all. I needed someone to rely on, and he has proven himself to be a generous, if slightly unpleasant, man. Swallow my pride. I can take a bit of teasing if it meant being able to stay under his roof. Get some information, maybe figure out a couple of tricks or spells, and when the time comes leave.

Nothing more complicated.

But I really wanted to know what time it was. I don't want to turn into a night owl, again. I've slept through the days and awoke during the night, and none of that was a pleasant experience. Swallow your pride, girl. What do you want? I want to be comfortable, for once, under a roof. Once again. Let's go find Alfred and hopefully amend this situation before it escalates towards an outcome that is less than ideal.

I got off of my bed and left my room, my pace even and my posture not too confident this time. I gingerly made my way towards the room filled with dolls and knocked, but got no response. I went downstairs and maneuvered myself towards the doll making room, knocked on it and this time got a response. "Come in."

Opening the door, I looked inside and caught Alfred back in the chair he was on before. "Alfred?"

"Yes?"

"Mind speaking with me for a bit?"

Alfred didn't respond for a couple of seconds, but he placed down his tool and whatever else he had in his hand and got up. "If you're bothering me now then I'm sure it's urgent. Go sit down, I'll come."

I nodded, although he probably couldn't see. I left the door open and sat on the chair I had myself sat on before. The plate was no longer there, I don't know where it went. Alfred's been taking care of my messes as well. Does this man have to ingratiate me to him so much? What's his deal? What does he want from me?

Alfred's footsteps were apparent this time, closing the door behind him and then moving to take a seat on the other chair. Whatever has been silencing his footsteps must've been magic related, or perhaps it's a skill he's honed down through physical means. Somehow this infuriates me. Breath, Eithne, breath.

I didn't give him too much time to speak before I could. Swallow your pride. "I'm sorry, Alfred. I think I've been treating you a tad unfairly. What I said in the doll room I didn't mean, please forgive me. I should be thanking you rather than insulting." That physically hurt to say. But I had to say it, regardless of how forced it might come out as.

Alfred didn't respond. I kept my face aiming at his, a feat that required every ounce of my willpower, and waited for his response. But it didn't come. Instead he had his eyes downcast and his fingers interlocked on his lap. Waiting for a response was hurting more than my apology had. But he spoke, a small smile breaking on his face, "I accept your apology. I've acted overly familiar with you, I'd like to offer an apology of my own. I didn't mean to treat a guest in the way I had."

Overly familiar would be the wrong term but I won't correct him. "Thank you, and I accept your apology."

Silence was cast over our meeting for moments that lasted longer than any other moment I've experienced before. He wasn't saying anything, and I'm not sure he had anything to say. I do, so let's start gathering the important information I needed.

"If you won't mind the sudden shift, I have some questions about my usefulness to you, or possible usefulness for the foreseeable future." I waited for permission. Was I being too formal?

"Go on."

Let's start with questions related to hygiene and food, then. I spoke to him about my visit, where I could find water, how to clean for myself, how to deal with other more base business. It wasn't a long conversation, but it was dense. Eventually after going through everything that I would absolutely need to know in order to not make a fool or ingrate out of myself I went on to the more personal questions that I wanted answered.

"Thank you for the answers, that'll save me a much suffering in the future. I have slightly more personal questions I want to ask."

"Ask them." Alfred had grown to be visibly tired of all my questions. I'll make it short.

"Do you live with anyone else?" An important question, I didn't know if I should expect to interact with a jealous wife who's mistaken my presence for an affair or another man.

"No. I've told you it's been a long time since I've interacted with another person." Oh, I forgot. That'd make sense, then. I gave a smile and tried to clear my shame.

"Sorry, should've given more attention to that. The final one, am I to compensate you in any way?" Please, don't truly be a pervert.

"No. And I'm offended you've asked that, Eithne. I might be inconsiderate but I'm not a miser. Please don't ask those sorts of questions, it's an insult."

What? No, I've met these sorts before. Giving without wanting anything back, there's a limit to how gracious one can be before it's being a simple fool. "Right, sorry."

Again silence fell over us. I gave a nervous chuckle and started to play with my tail. "I didn't mean to offend. But, I think I'm tired now, and you look more tired than me, so pardon me. I'd like to go to bed, and thank you for your kindness, Alfred." Perhaps my smile looked genuine to Alfred, but regardless I saw him warm up at the sight of it. I knew it was genuine, I didn't mean to make it, after all. Felt nice to be treated with such overwhelming generosity. Reminds me of mom, but there was a masculine quality to it that I've not experienced before.

"May the divine watch over your sleep, dear Eithne. And have a good night." Alfred nodded with some slightly regained enthusiasm and walked towards the door. "I'll be working, morning come I give you permission to knock on my door. But if you'd prefer to make breakfast yourself, then you may."

I hummed in approval and watched as he disappeared behind the door. Some unknown tension escaped me and I deflated in my chair, not moving. What was I doing? Making friends with the one who'll decide my life and death, that's what.

I shuffled out of my chair and went upstairs. I wasn't lying when I said I was tired. I don't know how much time had passed, but I wanted to sleep. Sleep would be welcome. What should I wear while sleeping? Just my bloomers would work well enough. And I doubt Alfred is going to crawl into my bed to sleep, either. Would it be befitting of a lady? No. But on another thought, I don't know if Alfred will come into my room or not. I'd rather not expose bare breasts to him by accident.

I'll change into my old clothes, even if it'll be dirtier. Better dirty than caught naked. I nodded and entered my room, greeting the same everlasting fire that worked as my fireplace. I should at one point try to figure out whatever spelled operated that fire. It'd be a welcome change of pace to lose myself in magic rather than in socializing and interacting with Alfred. And, of course, useful.

I took off all my clothes but my bloomer and put back on my old dress. It stunk, I could smell it once it was on. But it wasn't absolutely terrible, I've smelled worse. I hope Alfred wouldn't mind a smelly mattress and blanket, but considering I had been sleeping in this already I don't think he'll mind. Or maybe he will. A problem for tomorrow. How long was I asleep for? I forgot to ask that.

It didn't take much for me to fall back into the land beyond, into the ephemeral landscapes of dreams.