Last night I was certain I had fallen asleep. I remembered the moment, and I remembered some of my dreams. I was interacting with the dolls there, reliving the odd moment of when I had peeked on the little catamarán's bloomers. Alfred hadn't interrupted me then. This was all I remembered from the dream. Did I want to look at her underwear uninterrupted so badly? Why? I've never swung that way.

But I was awake now. How else would I be able to recollect my dreams if not by being awake? There was no light in the room save for what the fire could provide, and I had left it on considering it would get colder if I didn't. I felt my chest and noticed that it was still bear, and felt for my bloomers and was relieved that too was still there. Looks like I wasn't assaulted. The next step would be to take off my bloomers and sleep as the divine lord intended me to.

I got off of bed and let go of my silly thoughts. Dressing myself up in the same clothes I had been gifted two days prior, and noticing that they're finally starting to smell distinctly like me, I left the room and went downstairs. I wouldn't check if it weren't snowing today, I didn't want a repeat of yesterday. It took all my strength to close the door back in place and I don't want to repeat that mistake.

Moving over to where Alfred usually works I knocked on the door. I heard no response. But, like yesterday, the door opened with the sound of a click, and behind the door stood Alfred. His face was as youthful as the day I first saw him, and if I didn't know better I would've assumed he hadn't stuck himself up in a room all day and worked. He didn't smell, he didn't look tired, he looked like Alfred always had.

Alfred didn't have a smile, but neither did he look glum. I got the impression that he no longer had much interest in my presence, or was that it? It felt slightly more personal than that.

"Good morning, Alfred."

"Yes, if it is morning. How about today I teach you how to make breakfast, Eithne? I imagine you've taken a liking to my cooking, as a token of our meeting I think giving you a lifelong skill would be suitable." Alfred smiled finally. A sad one, or is it? I'm having a slight amount of trouble reading Alfred's emotions right now. He was much more somber than he was normally.

And he's willing to teach me how to cook the steak? Without even having to ask him myself? I'll forgive him calling me stinky, then. As long as he didn't do it again, or was more polite about it. "Really? A liking is an understatement. Your meat is the best I've had in my life, I'd be a fool not take you up on your offer." Alfred laughed and began to move past me, into the kitchen. Why was he laughing? "What's so funny?"

"Phrasing, little Eithne. I'll spare you the embarrassment. Come! I'll teach you to the best of my ability. I've trained in the craft of cooking under the tutelage of a dear friend many years back, although I'm a bit rusty on a lot of the recipes the steak is one that I'd occasionally enjoy on special, or sad, occasions."

"What did I say that was phrased funny?"

Alfred ignored my question. Instead he pulled back a drawer and took out the same bowl of lard he's been using and setting it down on the top of the table. "The first step is heating up the pan. That's easy enough, although figuring out how much heat is crucial." I decided to give up figuring out what had made him laugh. "You want the pan to be hot enough to sear the steak, but not hot enough to burn it. If you don't know how hot that is, you're going to have to experience tasting some subpar steaks and charred ones to figure it out."

I nodded, watching closely as Alfred moved the spider pan and pushed some coals from the already burning fire under it. Its embers were red hot, and there was a decent amount of them as well. I know how to cook, of course. What I want to figure out is what his ingredients are and if he's done anything special. I've already seen the herbs, and the garlic, and the steak. Well, I've seen everything. I suppose I want to figure out what the herb mixture is.

I asked and got the names of several herbs I haven't heard of before. Thyme? Never heard of it. Neither have I heard of rosemary. Is he making up names or are they actually plants?

"You're not pulling my tail with the names, are you?" I asked

"They're imported, I'm sure you can grow some on this continent but it's not one that originates from here. It's not surprising you don't know of them."

Imported? How expensive are my tastes, really? How much money has this guy sunk on me in the name of kindness? "How much does a single one of these dishes cost."

"A gold coin, probably."

What? And he's willing to throw this away into my maw every morning? What? I'm a poor vagrant, not some high lady of a court. Is this man's head on right?

"You know, on second thought, can you prepare me anything else, Alfred?" I would owe this man three gold coins. Wait, if that's how much the food costs, how much would my clothes cost?

"Nonsense. Now listen, you throw a cube of the lard in and let it melt on the pan while you cut the herbs. Once everything is cut up, you throw it over the steak. It's not that complicated, this is perhaps one of the easier dishes if you don't count figuring out the correct temperature."

I whined. I should've known better. Is he going to turn me into his indentured slave once this is all over? Alfred looked over at me with a smirk on his face.

"Eithne, don't worry about the cost, just enjoy the meal. And pay attention. The lard has melted and we've already seasoned the steak. Place it on the pan and wait."

I can't not worry, but him telling me not to is a good sign, I think. But I'm still getting nervous from the thought of eating such an expensive piece of meat. A single one of those steaks cost enough to feed me for two months! For three if I was being frugal. How can Alfred be giving me this much?

He placed the piece of meat on the pan and began to prepare the vegetables. With this he didn't say anything, perhaps because he had assumed I knew how to do this as well. He gave me a look from the corner of his eye and seasoned the asparagus. I've been eating the same thing for the past three days, I'm realizing. Was he judging me on that, too? My goodness is the thought of the steak costing an entire gold coin eating at me.

I stood next to Alfred, unintentionally playing with my tail as I watched the steak cook. I'll memorize the entire layout and if I ever have to sear a piece of meat this will provide a good basis for that future action. It would have to be from an animal I had owned myself, and it'd be cheaper to raise and butcher my own animal than to just buy the meat from some other farmer. What made this dish so expensive? Was it the herbs? I bet it was the herbs. A steak like this wouldn't cost more than eight coppers, or a day's work of labor, normally.

Alfred dumped the vegetables into the pan and flipped the steak over, revealing a perfectly seared steak to my view. He hadn't mentioned the timing but I more or less got a sense of when it should or shouldn't be flipped. I waited patiently with Alfred, both of us looking at the steak as it cooked. I couldn't stop playing with my tail.

"It's done." Was it? Alfred stabbed the meat with a fork and moved it towards a plate, and then scooped up the rest of the vegetables with the same fork. "Here you go." I nodded and accepted the dish with both hands. Moving and placing it on the table, I sat politely and stared at my dish, only having a fork. I can't cut with this. But a knife appeared suddenly, Alfred's hand carrying it and placing it on the lip of the plate.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Now eat." Again I nodded, but I didn't move my hands. Alfred didn't move away from the room; I got the intense feeling that he was watching over me, judging me for not eating yet. Or judging me for being such a glutton as to eat an entire gold coin's worth of food for three days straight. I could buy six cows with that!

"Would you prefer not to eat, Madam Eithne?" I shook my head. He moved to grab the plate and I let him. "Very well. I'll throw out the dish then, I'll be right back."

"Wait!" I brought my hands up but didn't touch Alfred or the plate. I clenched them together and placed them on the dark wooden table as politely as I could, and then rephrased my gesture. "I'll eat it. Don't throw it away."

"Don't mind. If you don't want to eat, then it can serve for food for someone else." Despite saying that Alfred let go of the plate and pushed it back into its original position, moving away from me and the table and towards the entrance door. "I'd have to figure out whether it's still snowing out before I throw it out anyway. If you've changed your mind, then eat now."

This is too much pressure. I nodded, didn't say anything, but instead picked up my knife and fork and began to cut the meat into sections. Regardless of the condition outside I'll have to eat this, so it's best to start now in case it really had stopped snowing.

The taste was still exquisite, even if I had eaten it three days in a row that doesn't stop it from tasting the way it does. I had sliced the steak into small strips and had begun to chew, watching Alfred make his way to the entrance and open the door. Light came through, but not the sight or sound of a thunderous wind. This had only meant one thing, it had stopped snowing at some point today or yesterday. I was assaulted by the conflicted sentiments of waiting and enjoying my food patiently, and engulfing it down like an uncivilized hoodlum.

I chose a mixture of both. Chose would be too strong of a word, I was forced to choose both. I had enough self control to taste and enjoy the texture of my food, but not enough self control to make myself wait too long for the opportunity of moving out. Alfred, on his part, closed the door and moved over to the table once again. I didn't greet him, but instead focused all of my energy on chewing and tasting this entire gold coin worth of flavor.

Alfred moved the chair and sat down. He put his elbows on the table and leaned over, looking at me while doing so. I looked at him, chewing as I did so, continuing to bring food into my mouth. What did he want?

"Once you're done eating you may finally go. It's stopped snowing, and the snowstorm has let up. You may keep the dress, by the way."

I stopped eating at that moment. I continued to chew as I needed to clear out my mouth before I spoke. I'm a lady, after all. And this wasn't something I hadn't expected. I knew the day would come, and I also knew I hadn't got into a good enough favor for Alfred to try to convince me to stay without my prompting. At some point during my stay here I had made it certain that I would do everything I could to stay here, and I had silently been working arguments for why I'd be beneficial around.

But first the formalities. I gulped the steak and wiped my mouth with a finger, as there was no table cloth or a cloth but the clothes he had given me. Later I'll rip apart my dress for rags, but for now focus on making myself presentable and agreeable. I cleared my throat, and throughout Alfred had patiently waited for my words to come. He had a neutral face on, even if his posture spoke of laziness given that he was leaning on the table.

"Thank you, Alfred, for your gracious patronage. In my life I hadn't been treated as kindly as you have with anyone but my mother, and I will not soon forget the things you have gifted me and most vital, the life that you had saved. Anything but a sincere and honest thanks would be an insult worthy of the ire of the divine." I placed my hand on my heart and gave a bow, still seated. I still wanted to eat, after all.

Alfred smiled, a genuine one. "You're welcome. Now what is that you really want to say?" Wha-? How can he be so direct? That's rude! After my honest thank you you'll question my motives? This man is nothing but perceptive. And rude. And creepy.

But not wrong. I smiled, a true one I knew it to be, "Sorry, Alfred. I won't beat around the bush, then. I'd like to stay just a bit longer if you won't mind. Now, I'm not-"

"Sure."

"Completely useless, I know how to sew and how to do house chores. I could work as your maid, and before that I'm a magician, as you know. My specialty, my talent, is enthral... Wait what?"

"I don't mind."

"My staying?"

"Yes. As long as your tastes aren't as expensive as the food I'd fed you, I wouldn't mind. But go on about what uses you have, but know that my intentions are to have someone to tease and talk to. Primarily."

"Primarily?"

"Yes. But you first, continue." Alfred straightened out his posture and gestured his hand for me to continue. "Unless you want to eat first, of course. I'm patient."

What now? Do I take him up on his offer of letting me eat or should I speak first? It sounded like he really wouldn't mind me eating and then talking. And eating was why I was still sitting down. I nodded and wordlessly began to eat, making Alfred smile in amusement. Cold food is bad food, as I say. Continuing to chew rather than talk, eventually the food was off the plant and into my stomach. Now I should speak, again wiping another finger on my mouth. I hope my mouth isn't dirty.

Clearing my throat I once again began, "As I was saying, my natural talent is enthrallment. I'm not an expert on it, but I'm good enough at it to put me on the class of a magician. I'm not technically trained, so I'm not a magician proper. I do not have full access to the entirety of my mana. However, I can use the spells I do know to good effect already, I had enthralled a large multitude of spiders and had them produce silk for me. From there I would weave it together and sell the cloths to noble families or anyone who'd buy.

"If you'd allow me the time needed to collect and raise enough of the spiders, I could be producing as much silk as my mana could allow me, the limitation being the time needed to gather the spiders and the amount of mana needed to enthrall and maintain that enthrallment. In my village, which I had been cast out from, I could make 18 gold coins a year. It may be humble compared to the wealth you may have, but it is worthwhile to keep me I would think."

"Don't need it, and it goes against my secondary intention for having you stay."

That was both reassuring and annoying. I can't be too much of a pushover, but I need to hear what his other motivation is before I push. "What would that be?" Alfred tapped his fingers against the wood and spoke.

"I'm interested in an apprentice to pass own my craft to and to help me in my research for years, no, decades now. I have not found one, given that I barely leave my home that isn't surprising. But it wasn't a pressing concern. An opportunity came with your arrival, and I'm convinced that you are a godsend, an opportunity that I won't look over. You are a magician, even if you haven't unlocked everything yet. I may not be aligned in the same spirit as you but I know enough about those who're born in the black cloth to teach you."

I don't fully understand what he's saying here. Black cloth, aligned in the same spirit? Does he mean my dark alignment? Would make sense. I nodded, regardless of how clear his words were this was a massive opportunity on its own. I know he's a skilled craftsmen of dolls, and that would be a good skill to learn, but something also magic related? I'd regret refusing this for the rest of my life. I had begun to play with my tail below the table, I needed to calm down and that usually helps.

"And Miss Eithne, from the moment I had caught, almost on your knees in reverent, gaze straight and hands as steady as your beating heart, looking up the skirt of dear Miss Catamarán... I knew you'd be the one. You had to. We shared the same spirit."

"Wait," I tried to interject, but he continued.

"The same heart, Eithne."

"Wait, stop." Alfred had been mimicking some strange motion, lifting some strange cloth and with curious eyes looking up. This was mockery, I was nothing like he had described. So what if I wanted to look up her skirt? I wasn't deserving of this sort of humiliation!

"So I offer you my proposal. You may stay and live here, I will feed and cloth you. In exchange, you are to learn my craft, and learn my magics, and will devote your life to the aim of perfection within our crafts. The true oath won't be now, I need to get to know you more before I could truly have you commit. But ultimately you will, in some way, help in my research. Is that acceptable?"

Alfred had ignored my cries for him to stop, even ignoring when I had gotten up in anger. But, ultimately, he was right to ignore that. I needed to consider this. So I sat back down and sat in my embarrassment and anger, trying to wrack my brain for what I should answer with. There was one answer. He was offering me everything I had wanted to ask for. He was being an insolent, teenage, prick on my butt about it. And teasing was part of the exchange from what I had gathered.

What if this was all just a test to make me leave? I knew my answer already. I nodded, then I spoke. "You had played me and had me dancing on the palm of your hand, Alfred. I relent. I accept, but please do not treat me like a pervert and creep to ridicule anymore. I do not like it, release me from the torment of your mockery." A strange growl came out as I spoke the last portion. My tail was restlessly moving between my hands, and my ears I could feel were as perked up as they could be. This was anger, I knew it.

Alfred looked at me with something that screamed seriousness. "A trial of one month will be taken before a true oath said. Your aptitude and your sincerity will be tested there. Now, would you like to go outside and stretch your legs for a bit, or would you prefer to have me begin teaching immediately?"

I've gone from stressing over the price of a piece of steak, to being offered to become an apprentice to Alfred, to being able to walk outside once again. This is too much.

A walk around the place should help me let out some stress. "I'd like to walk around if you don't mind. Are we covered in snow and can we get out?"

"Follow me, little Eithne." Why does he call me little?

I got up and followed Alfred, intentionally not paying mind to the dishes that I had not yet cleaned. I would do that later, when the opportunity arises. Alfred opened the door and waited for my arrival, which would come only seconds later. The entrance was covered by snow, but light could be seen poking out at the absolute top. A good chunk of it wasn't covered, but it would take some time to dig our way out. At least we aren't trapped in here, that would be a disaster. For me, probably not for Alfred.

"How do we get out? Do you have a shovel?"

"No. Watch as I do my magic." Alfred placed a hand on the snow, and indeed I did watch as a sudden wave of mana moved around him. Etchings of some sort of pattern moved across the face of the snow, not materially but in mana, and I watched as snow as began to rise into the air. The entrance was cleared or rather a cube of snow was cleared, and we had space to walk outside. Not much, but it was space. Alfred walked out, only wearing his tunic and trousers with no shoes, and touched another face of the newly exposed snow. The same pattern repeated, but this time a staircase was revealed.

"There, we may leave now. Will you come or do you want to put on shoes first?" Yes, I was being painfully reminded of the fact that I lacked footwear thanks to the cold. Neither did I have a cloak, except for the one that was ragged. I will negotiate with Alfred later about obtaining a new cloak. I nodded at Alfred and ran upstairs, to my room and to get socks and my leather shoes. The shoes were worn down as well but I could make do with it.

I slipped on my socks and then came the shoes, tightening the laces and then tying them into a knot. I tested how well they fit by tapping each one by the toes on the floor, and once satisfied made my ways downstairs. Alfred was no longer outside of the entrance, although the door was still open. He might've gone up, so I followed and went up the snow steps. Each step was hardened, most likely magically, and subsequently sturdy. I don't know how long this snow will stay for but considering there's at least five feet of snow it'll be a long, long while.

The difference between the stale air of Alfred's home and the clear, crisp, if cold air of outside was enough to fill me with new found vigor. That and the sight of the snow covered landscape, a long, wide strip of snow surrounded by trees on both sides, the sun that showed itself to have only recently risen up, and the fact that I could see something other than the grey stone walls washed my mind clean of what had happened to me these past few days.

But my reverie was taken away the moment I stepped away from the stairs and into the virgin snow below. My foot sunk deep within it, reminding me that I wasn't fully clothed to be out in the snow like this. By the time I would be back indoors, if I had stayed too long out here, I would be a wet, shivering, and possibly hypothermic mess. I committed myself to removing my foot from the engulfing surface of the snow and back into the safety of the hard snow stairs. Where was Alfred in all of this? I couldn't see his footsteps.

I surveyed my surroundings, looking for Alfred anywhere around, the blindnig white snow making it difficult for me to find him. I couldn't see any other trails of footsteps, nor anything that could signal the fact that a creature had walked. But, somewhere next to a tree, Alfred stood. The snow didn't break under his feet, and he was standing as if the snow was as hard as any other surface should be. How is he doing that? Is it magic? It has to be magic.

Has to be.

"How're you doing that!?" I shouted, as he was some distance away from me. I was still on the steps and he next to a tree, the home wasn't surrounded by trees as I had expected it to be. Well, I had several ideas of where this building was located and one of them was a forest, another deep inside a mountain. Looks like I was partially right with the first.

Alfred turned to stare at me, wiping hair away from his eyes as he did so. "Doing what? Standing?" Was he playing with me again?

"Yes, standing. My foot sunk in my first step, how are you able to walk through snow without disturbing it as well?"

"Harden the ice below my feet as I walk. I'm sure you can make it over here if you can manage to find where my steps are. Do you not know how to do that?"

Definitely not. That sounds like an incredibly complicated, how am I supposed to know how to do that? Sounds almost impossible, actually. I refused to answer and instead, in a show of defiance, turned away and went inside. It's a shame that I wouldn't be able to walk around, but given that had neither the right clothes nor the right magic to do so, I'd be forced to stay in here for a while longer. Hopefully Alfred will come inside soon, the choice he had given me was either walk outside or begin training immediately. I'd prefer not to waste time.

I didn't have to wait for much time after all. Only a couple of seconds later did Alfred make it back inside, closing the door behind him and having a hand behind his head, scratching himself. He had an apologetic smile on his face, an expression I hadn't seen before.

"Sorry, Eithne, I'd forgotten what sort of abilities the common folk has. How old are you, by the way?"

"Sixteen." Although some might still consider me a child, I'm a proper, full grown lady according to the law of the bards, and through that enjoy all of the rights a full grown adult is entailed to. Or I would be if I had land. And that was a good question, how old was my soon to be teacher? "And you, Alfred?"

Alfred stopped scratching his head and froze in place. He let out a forced laugh and then answered, "Ninety-six. I didn't know I was dealing with such a young girl, excuse me." I've picked up he was an old man, but I had expected something within the range of a normal human's lifetime old and not, uh, that. As a cultivator he was reaching middle aged, as a man he was ancient. I nodded, it wasn't completely outside of my expectations.

"Is it really alright to call you Alfred, then? I think Master or Grandpa Alfred would work better." I put my hands over my chin in thought, or trying to mimic thought. In truth I was trying to stop a smile from forming on my face. I wasn't as professional of a manipulator as I would prefer, and neither my tail nor my ears would listen to my commands most of the time. Alfred shook his head and walked over to me, then passed me. He opened the door and gestured for me to go inside first.

"Whichever amuses you, óg Eithne. If we ever go to a city together I would require you to call me Master, but otherwise you may choose yourself. Now head inside, let's begin your lessons."

"Sir Alfred it is then." I nodded with the air of a wiseman and walked into the room. I don't know where I should go from here, or why he wants me to go in first, but that doesn't matter. For now I'll listen to Alfred. I hope his first lesson won't be something boring like the history of his craft. I wasn't all that interested in dolls, and I wouldn't be interested at all about their histories. As long as I had the protection of a cultivator and learned magic, that would be fine. And he was providing to me both of those things.

I walked inside the room and once I had decided I had walked in enough, which was an arbitrary decision, I waited for Alfred to move as well. He followed me, then passed me and moved towards his chair. I followed close behind.

"For now I'll begin by explaining what it is I expect you to do." And not the history of your magical research? That's fortunate. I knew he made dolls, but I don't see where the magic is located. He did say his craft isn't lethal, so maybe it was confined in the realm of making more accurate dolls.

"But before that, some background," Why? Alfred sat on his chair and began to arrange the various tools around him. "I've invested the past twenty years into the art of creating dolls. Previously, it was statues and then painting. From the start I had wanted to create artwork that was as real and as human as the people that surrounded me, an obsession that has been dear to my heart for as long as I could remember. I want to create living art, I want to assemble the things that the divine had created with my own hands.

"That was my original intention. It is still that same obsession. What I expect of you is to help me in a single branch of my research, purely within the magical side. If you want to learn how to create dolls yourself, then that is fine. If you want to learn how to paint, or how to sew, or how to carve statues, that is also fine. But without question I will be training you in the basics of magic, and from there I will be relying on you for enchantments. I do not expect you to innovate, you are far too young for that. You're welcome to try, of course, as long as it doesn't hamper any progress on specific enchantments I want done."

I nodded. This is basic apprenticeship, doing work that the master doesn't himself want to do. "Of course, Sir Alfred."

"My magic isn't simple. I have several other companions who share similar goals as I do, my art is the result of all our dedication put together. It might sound like a common apprenticeship, but know that you will be using the full extent of both your wit and your intuition in understanding my art. Anything that I deem to have the slightest defect will be made again, and again, and again, until you do it right. Perfectly. I expect no work to be said done until I had said it to be, and never expect anything that you consider lacking in anyway to be accepted by me."

This is reasonable, and not unheard of either. Some master magicians or master cultivators won't accept anyone with less than a hundred years of experience in an art into becoming an apprentice to them, the standards of these kinds of people aren't the same as the common folks. I nodded once again.

"So, I will provide you with a single task. Complete one enchantment, of which the basic pattern is drawn here," Alfred moved over a piece of wood with a simple pattern of lines and spirals near me. "On these hands." Alfred placed a tiny pair of hands, evidently doll hands given their strangely jointed structure, and then continued, "by the end of thirty days. If you fail to meet my standards, then you will fail. And unfortunately I will have to ask you to leave. If you succeed, then I will teach you. If you were to do it without any guidance even the most skilled and talented magician would fail, but given that as true I will provide you with a single hand that has already been enchanted with that spell."

Alfred picked up a tiny hand and kept it on the tip of his pointer finger. He made sure I was looking, and then did something with his mana flow. He moved a bit of fire mana into the hand and I watched as it clenched and unclenched itself.

I looked at Alfred, then back at the hand. What?

"The spell isn't for the movement of the fingers, but for the reception of a person's mana. Is that understood?" So I wouldn't have to enchant an item that could do that? Good. This sounds possible, and reasonable. I nodded. "Yes, Sir Alfred."

Alfred looked at me with a raised eyebrow. He placed the hand next to the pair of unenchanted hands, and then began to pick up various tools. "Good luck. I will not help you, but you may submit your work anytime. If I think it's inadequate, you must try again. You have one month, if you've failed to give me both hands with a perfect enchantment by then, then our deal is null."

Then I have to get to work. I picked up the little hands and collected them together safely into my palm, and then gingerly picked up the wooden carving of the enchantment.

"Do we start now?" I asked. Alfred shook his head.

"You can do what you want for today, considering morning has already come. You may start now, though." Perfect.

I made a low bow and went back to my room, through the kitchen and up the stairs. I was used to spending most of my time doing nothing but inspect enchantments, and today it wouldn't be any different. I imagine I'd need less than ten days to get a proper enchantment on both of these hands, I can't imagine this being all that difficult.

So I spent the rest of the day figuring out the enchantments on the enchanted little hand, focusing most of my observations on the mana transmission enchantment.