“Osiris!” Thelma called with excitement as she rushed over, leaning over the counter. “It has been so long since anyone has seen you around here! And how lucky am I that you are coming to my booth? Will you finally let me tailor something for you?”
Osiris’ flames brightened as he shook his head. “Not today, Thelma, but I appreciate the offer. I am actually in the market for a dress. Preferably a few if you have any?”
Thelma’s eyes brightened as her tail wagged behind her. “Is there a missus I should know about?” she asked, looking behind him. “Or perhaps someone special?”
“Someone… special, I think,” Osiris admitted, his flames burning even brighter. “I will need a dress. Similar to your size, actually. But, fitted for a vampire?”
Thelma nodded her head, pointing to a standing rack off to the side. “Take a look over there and let me know if you find anything that catches your eye!”
Osiris nodded his head, leaving Shadow with Thelma as he moved to the racks. Shadow was never one to be upset at more attention.
Flicking through the dresses, he pulled out a few oranges and reds, and the odd black one. But what caught his attention was a floor length white dress with ruffles along the top and a beautiful flowing skirt. It looked similar to her wedding dress. The dress that was ruined.
Setting it in his pile, he turned back to the booth and placed them down, along with a stack of coins.
“I will take these please.”
Thelma nodded excitedly. “Of course! And don’t be a stranger. I know it can get to be a lot here, and not everyone is the best in how they act around you. Still, you’d be surprised with how much the beings have changed. A lot of younger ones look up to you as some big protector.”
Osiris chuckled, bowing his head as he took the clothes. “I am sure I am not around enough for people to look up to.”
“I am telling the truth!” she insisted. “Besides, if you have someone special, you should bring them around.”
“I will remember that, Thelma. Thank you.”
Osiris placed the dresses gently in Shadow’s basket.
Grabbing the reins, he started to lead Shadow out of the market, retracing his steps as he began his journey home. The sun, having set even lower than before, cast the enclave in a deep orange glow. Being able to see the beauty of something that took years to build was worth the discomfort of going out.
Just as Osiris was about to leave, a beautiful melody sounded from behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a tiny porcelain music box playing a soft melody. Inside the open box, was a woman in a wedding dress dancing with a man in a suit. They spun in circles until the music eventually stopped.
She never got to enjoy her wedding. I wonder what she would look like dancing?
“Excuse me,” Osiris called, walking over to the vampire that was painting another music box. “How much for one of these boxes?”
The man looked up from the box he was painting, offering a nervous smile as he stared into Osiris’ flames. “Well, are you looking to buy one from the shelf or a custom one? The shelf items are ten gold coins,” he said, gesturing to the box Osiris had just been appreciating. “The custom ones are thirty gold coins.”
Osiris glanced at the shelf boxes. They were all rather similar, each one decorated with various flowers and dancing couples. Though none of them embodied Eleanor.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the satchel that had the remaining coin for the week and opened the top to look inside.
Thirty-five gold coins, a few silver, and the odd copper.
Osiris smiled softly as he counted out his gold coins.
Every coin in his possession was worth it if, even for a moment, he could capture her beauty.
21
ELEANOR
Eleanor sat by the warmth of the nearly dead fire. One she had set hours ago. Osiris did tell her that his trip to the market would take a full day, still, after being accustomed to either him or his deviant shadows following her around all day, being on her own suddenly felt much too lonely.
Eleanor sighed as she watched the fire, counting how many pops could be heard from the burning wood. Thus far, she had counted eighty-three. The wood from the tower she built when placing the kindling beneath, had since fallen over. Now it was just a pile of charred darkness, speckled with red still breathing in and out of life.
Letting her head fall back, she looked at the door to freedom that was merely a few steps away from where she sat.
Not a single being has come anywhere near his property until now, would it really be so bad if I propped the door open? I wouldn’t even be going outside.
