"What about them?" Sebastian asked.
"To you, that kill was nothing," Ochrehand repeated. "But to them, it was another meal shared with their families. Another midday spent in warmth and safety, bellies full, surrounded by those they love."
Sebastian studied the couple more intently. In vampire society, they would have been... processed... long ago. Once their usefulness ended, once they became resource drains rather than contributors, they would have been efficiently eliminated. It was simple mathematics.
"What function do they serve?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. "What is their role in the settlement?"
Ochrehand looked surprised. "Their role?"
"Their purpose," Sebastian clarified, trying to find words she would understand. "What do they contribute? What tasks are they assigned?" He paused, then asked more directly, "Why haven't they been killed to save resources?"
Understanding dawned in Ochrehand's eyes. Not shock at the bluntness of his question, but recognition of the vast gulf between their worldviews.
"We don't... we don't think of people that way," she said gently. "They aren't resources to be managed or burdens to be eliminated."
"But they consume food, shelter, care," Sebastian pointed out logically. "They require energy that could be allocated to younger, more productive members. In Cornelius's house, such inefficiency would be..." He trailed off, remembering where he was.
"They are here because they are loved," Ochrehand said simply. "Because they have wisdom to share when we need guidance. Because they help with small tasks when their strength permits. And when they can no longer contribute labor,their contribution becomes simply to love and be loved until they are gone."
Sebastian stared at her, trying to process this concept. "That's... inefficient."
"Yes," Ochrehand agreed without defensiveness. "By Cornelius's calculations, it would be."
"Then why?" Sebastian asked, genuinely baffled. "Why accept the drain on resources? Why not redirect their care to warriors or children who could benefit the settlement more directly?"
Ochrehand was quiet for a long moment. The old man had woken, and he and his companion were sharing quiet conversation, their words too soft to carry but their contentment evident in their posture.
"Because that's not how love works," she said finally. "You don't stop loving someone because they become inconvenient. You don't calculate whether affection provides adequate returns." She looked at him directly. "Do you understand what love is, Sebastian?"
The question caught him off guard. "I..." He paused, searching for an answer that had been processed out of his education. "Cornelius spoke of attachments as weaknesses to be overcome. Inefficiencies in decision-making."
"That's not what I asked."
Sebastian watched the elderly couple, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. The woman had finished mending the shirt and was now helping her companion to his feet. Their movements were slow, careful, but they supported each other with obvious tenderness.
"No," he admitted quietly. "I don't think I understand what love is."
"Then watch them," Ochrehand suggested. "Watch how our people interact with those who can no longer hunt or fight orbuild. See if you can begin to understand what we value beyond mere utility."
She rose to leave, then paused, studying him with an appraising gaze. "Your hair has grown longer since you came to us," she observed.
Sebastian self-consciously touched his dark hair, which now fell past his shoulders. In the citadel, it had been kept precisely trimmed to regulation length, another aspect of vampire efficiency. "I haven't had a reason to cut it."
Ochrehand reached into a pouch at her belt and withdrew several small carved bone beads and leather ties. "Among our people, when warriors prove themselves in their first battle, they receive their first braids." She held out the items. "You're well past your first battle, but you have fought for us. With us."
Sebastian stared at the offered beads, understanding the significance of what she was proposing. "I'm not an orc warrior."
"No," she agreed. "But you've shed blood in our defense. You've brought food to our table." A slight smile touched her lips. "And you've shown more patience with Thornmaker's suspicion than many born to our village would manage."
When Sebastian didn't immediately respond, she added, "It's a choice, of course. Not all warriors wear braids."
"But most do," Sebastian said quietly, having observed this pattern among the settlement's fighters.
Ochrehand nodded. "It marks belonging. Community." She held his gaze steadily. "If you would permit me?"
After a moment's hesitation, Sebastian inclined his head in consent. Ochrehand gestured for him to sit on a flat stone near the cave entrance, where the morning light would better illuminate her work.
Her fingers moved with quickly, separating sections of his hair, weaving patterns that felt foreign yet somehow right. Thegentle tug against his scalp was oddly comforting, the quiet clicking of bone beads marking progress as she worked.
