The heavy, ornately carved doors of the council chamber swung inward, revealing Bathilda. A hush fell over the assembled dwarves, their weathered faces etched with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. The air, thick with the scent of stone and ancient magic, crackled with unspoken questions.

  "After all this time, who would have thought the crystal would work again? And to deliver... People, not shortly after either. We are truly blessed," the aged dwarf, her beard a cascade of silver threads, declared, her voice raspy with age. This pronouncement, intended to be a celebratory note, hung in the air, met with a discordant symphony of murmurs and shifted feet.

  Bathilda, her crimson eyes scanning the council, recognized the subtle tension. They all possessed the innate ability (Identify), a skill that pierced through illusions and revealed the true nature of beings. They knew she was a Vampire, a creature of shadow and ancient power. The knowledge hung between them, a silent accusation.

  "We still don't know why it activated though," a stout dwarf with a hammer-like hand grumbled, his brow furrowed in concern.

  "It could be a trick by the Demon King," another, his voice edged with paranoia, suggested, sending a ripple of unease through the room. The council erupted into a cacophony of anxious debate, their voices echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

  Bathilda suppressed a sigh. The Demon King, or rather, Kings, were gone, their reign of terror extinguished and her thoughts drifted to her children. One was likely engrossed in some digital battle, his voice a torrent of expletives through a headset. The other was probably tending her garden, oblivious to the chaos, or perhaps being unwittingly influenced by her sibling's gaming obsession. Hiro, as always, was likely indulging in a midday drink, a habit she needed to address soon.

  "Excuse me, if I may," Bathilda interjected, her voice cutting through the din. The council, startled by her sudden assertiveness, fell silent. "The Demon Kings have been dealt with, and the world has entered a new age of peace."

  Her words, intended to reassure, had the opposite effect. The council erupted once more, their voices a chorus of distrust and disbelief.

  "She could be lying. She's not even human!" a dwarf sneered, the word "human" laced with disdain.

  "I'm not sure I trust the words of an outsider," another echoed, his eyes narrowed.

  "Demon Kings? Plural?" a third exclaimed, his confusion evident.

  Bathilda felt a prickle of frustration. Her attempts at diplomacy were clearly failing.

  "Now, now," a gentle voice chimed in, calming the turbulent atmosphere. Blossom, magnificent in her pristine scrubs, drifted into the center of the council table. Her presence, a stark contrast to the stern dwarves, had a soothing effect.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "We traveled a long way to reach this mountain and the city of Home is not outside on your doorstep," Blossom explained, her voice soft but firm. "The crystal, I mean your communication device, should be able to prove what we're saying is true, so there's no need to bicker with each other."

  The council, captivated by Blossom's earnestness, nodded in agreement.

  "That said, even though Home is very far away, Bathilda here is creating a teleportation gate network of sorts to bridge the divide," Blossom continued, her gaze shifting to Bathilda.

  The council's attention snapped back to the vampire, their eyes filled with a mixture of apprehension and awe. The silence was heavy, charged with unspoken fears.

  "If I may," the aged dwarf who had opened the meeting spoke again, her voice hesitant. "Why did Home send a Vampire as a representative? Technically, and I mean no offense by this, but... you're a monster."

  Bathilda felt a familiar sting. She had faced this prejudice countless times since her reincarnation. It was a constant reminder of her otherness, her inherent difference.

  "Exactly! She shouldn't have even been able to get near the crystal, let alone find it. It's supposed to repel monsters, isn't it?" another dwarf cried, his voice laced with suspicion.

  "There are... circumstances regarding my nature. Be appeased that I mean you no harm though," Bathilda replied, attempting to defuse the situation.

  Be appeased? Blossom's mental voice echoed in Bathilda's mind, a mixture of amusement and concern. Who says something like that except bad guys?

  Bathilda realized her mistake too late. The dwarves, already wary of her, paled visibly. Her attempt at reassurance had only amplified their fears.

  A wave of weariness washed over Bathilda. She had always struggled with social interactions since her reincarnation. Her past life as a nurse, where she excelled at communication and empathy, seemed a distant memory. Now, she was perceived as a creature of darkness, her very presence a source of unease.

  She had hoped to help, to bridge the gap between their worlds, but her words only seemed to deepen the divide. The friendly, approachable nurse she once was had been replaced by a vampire, an entity that inspired fear rather than trust.

  Realizing she was doing more harm than good, Bathilda decided to withdraw. A silent exchange with Blossom, a brief mental conversation, was all that was needed. Blossom, with her gentle demeanor and comforting presence, was far better suited to handle the situation.

  Without a word, Bathilda turned and left the council chamber, the heavy doors closing behind her with a resounding thud. She retreated to a secluded corner of the mountain, seeking solitude amidst the ancient stones. The weight of her otherness, the constant reminder of her monstrous nature, pressed down on her.

  She knew Blossom would handle the council with grace and diplomacy. The teddy bear possessed a natural charm, an ability to soothe and reassure that Bathilda lacked. Blossom was the perfect representative, a beacon of warmth in a world shrouded in suspicion.

  Bathilda stared out at the city, the wind carrying the scent of dirt and stone amongst many others. She was a creature of two worlds, neither truly belonging to either. The human world still saw her as a monster, and this world, while more accepting, still held her at arm's length. She was a bridge, yet she remained on the fringes, an outsider looking in.

  Perhaps, she mused, her role was not to be a diplomat or a leader. Perhaps her purpose was to forge the teleportation network, to create a tangible link between Home and Durok, allowing others to build connections she could not. She would create a path, a bridge, and then step aside, allowing others to walk upon it. She would be the architect of connection, even if she could not fully participate in it.

  Help was not always given directly.