The girl can't see through the heavy mist, so she doesn't see the transformation that befalls the room. The wooden boards start sprouting green grass, while the walls cover themselves in shrubbery and extend outward, creating a hedge maze of such complexity that it would take the full power of a sharp mind to navigate successfully.
And as the smoke thins, she can see all manner of flowers blooming about the enclosure that's still forming. Many of which are simple reconstructions of real plants, but some are wholly new creations with their own patterns of colors and unique behaviors. Such is the menagerie that has been specifically crafted for her amusement.
And in the midst of the burgeoning garden is a lavish table of glass set with a frame of silver and upon the fragile surface are all the implements of a proper, garden teaparty. Sweets, crackers, meats, cheeses, jams and of course tea, have all been arranged on elaborate dishes that have been set withnin arm's reach of the little girl.
The scene is set and with a wave of the hand, the woman displays all of the goodies that are available while she exaggerates her gestures to indicate a vacant seat. The girl nods and takes her place, followed closely by her hostess who sits as near to her guest as she can. Last of all is the little, yellow puppy, who curls up beneath the table.
The excited child stares at the arrangement before her as her mouth hangs agape. But still, there's something not quite right about all of the many elements that surround her. The grass though green is slightly grey with a tinge of decay. As well, the fixings of the table and even the frame of the table itself, it's all too dark and dull for a celebratory repast.
"Why is everything so dark?" the girl inquires as she gazes all around her and the uneasy tinge to it all.
"Well," the woman begins. "It's because of the programming my master instilled in me. I can only create things of beauty, so long as there is an underlying darkness. I hope it doesn't put you off your mood."
There's a long pause, during which time the eager to please hostess feels a sadness start to overcome her. She feels as though she let her guest down and hides her face with her hand.
The girl takes hold of her other hand. "It's alright," she assures the woman and looks into her mostly covered face. "I like it."
"You do?" the woman returns and peeks from out of her fingers.
"I do," the girl insists and draws that much closer. "The dark tinge gives it a hint of mystery and that makes it far more interesting than beauty alone." And just to show how much she is at ease, the child takes a small cookie and bites down. But as she chews a revelation takes hold of her and she stops in mid bite, letting the cookie fall.
The woman is feeling more confident and lowers her hand. She smiles at the child, pats her head and makes her way to the table. "What's the matter?" she enquires while pouring some tea and taking note of her guest's expression.
Not wishing to be rude, the girl takes hold of her napkin and spits out the remains of the cookie into it, which leaves a sticky mess. "Aren't these your friends with the different colored eyes?" she asks while gesturing to the fixings on the table.
"They are," the woman affirms the assumption and sets the tea set down.
"Then, shouldn't I not, eat them?" the girl tries to formulate a cohesive question that is to the point, but ends up only confusing herself while sporting an odd grimace.
"Oh, but there is no harm in it, watch," the woman responds as she reaches out her hand and takes hold of a cookie, which she brings to her mouth and gingerly nibbles upon. She chews in a manner befitting such daintiness and with each bite smoke rises from her nostrils. "You see? You will not hurt the little darlings. They will simply revert to smoke and return to their jars."
The girl has only just noticed the smoke that rises from her own nostrils and looks down at the mess in her napkin. It's gone and a thin cloud of smoke rises into the air where once the mess had been with the only trace of it being her saliva. She even follows the vapor trail and finds the little balls of potential return to their respective jars.
She's delighted by the news and takes to eating more of the sweets as well as sipping her tea. Everything tastes wonderful and the only strange thing that remains is the smoke that rises from the nostrils as they eat. A facet which adds a dash of intrigue to the intimate affair between a child and what looks to be an adult.
The girl is quite satisfied with her little party and turns again to her host. "Could we not have something more?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"We may indeed my dear," the woman responds and sets her cup down.
"Well then," the girl starts and rubs her hands together. "May we have some pixies to flit about the place and provide some cheery light?"
The woman smiles as she draws smoke toward her from all directions. She takes hold of each one and layers it in front of her creating a ball which begins to spin as she adds more layers and increases its speed with each rotation. Soon, it's spinning so fast that crackles of energy begin running all over its surface.
The girl's mesmerized by the activity and watches with rapt fascination as her hostess drives her hands into the sphere and works them into the material which grows larger the more she manipulates it and the more smoke flows into her waiting tools of flesh and bone that are moving just fast enough to still be seen..
It becomes so large and spins so fast that it cannot hold its shape for long and bursts open, sending a myriad of tiny, winged creatures that glow like fireflies, every which way. These beings of light dance about in the air creating a vibrant, moving display that is in constant flux, offering unique patterns to observe.
The girl smiles broadly and excuses herself from her seating, finding that her chair, as heavy as it appears, moves with surprising ease. In response to this departure, the little doggy follows suit yapping and jumping about as it runs round her in ever expanding, constantly closing, concentric circles.
She takes hold of the woman's hand and without a word coaxes her to rise as she stares into her hostess' beautiful face. "Would you please escort me through the garden?" she asks with a slight bow.
The woman bows low to her. "It would be my pleasure," she breathes with a smile.
The two of them, or rather three, if you count the dog, walk away from the party and explore the depths of the garden, that's not as brightly lit up as the girl would have liked. As such, she can only see so far in any given direction.
A handicap which she surmises, means that they are not in the middle of an expansive garden, but rather, it's constructing itself at their approach. And one such construct is that of an ornate marble bridge that spans a small brook and what appears to be the heads of swans gracing each end.
The girl stops at the top of the arching, footbridge and peers down into the water below. "This place is so wonderful," she says as she turns to the woman who perches beside her. "I love every inch of it."
The woman smiles broadly. "I'm so happy you enjoy it," she purrs and sidles that much closer.
Several moments of silence elapse in which the two of them simply enjoy each others company and the delightful atmosphere that the setting exudes.
"What's your name?" the girl breaks the silence as she turns her head toward her nameless benefactor.
The woman is taken aback by the sudden question but soon recovers. "Whatever you want it to be," she informs her and adopts a mischievous smile.
The girl thinks on this and even her face becomes contorted with the query. "I shall call you Liza," she settles on a name and looks to the recipient..
The woman smiles. "Then Liza shall be my name," she affirms the suggestion and gives a nod.
The girl smiles in turn. "But you don't know my name," she states and smooths her gown.
"No, I do not," the woman returns matter-of-factly and gazes with a soft intensity on her diminutive guest.
"Well it's only polite that two people be properly introduced to one another," the girl points out and stops fidgeting with her attire. "My name is May Bell." She curtsies.
The woman is delighted and she returns the gesture. Then a horror comes over her face that could plainly be seen.
"What's wrong Liza?" May Bell asks as she stares a little too intensely into her face.
The woman looks about her. "It's nearly dawn and you have to leave," she says as though imparting dire news with a hollowness to her eyes.
"Can't I stay here?" May Bell queries as a sudden fear cracks at her voice as she finds herself being swept up with the hysteria.
Liza turns and smiles at her. "I'm afraid not," she admits as the merriment slips from her countenance. "This place will vanish with the coming day and you will find yourself in your bed."
"What about you?" May Bell inquires as she looks about her surroundings which she imagines vanishing from sight.
"I will simply become part of the air and accompany you during your day," Liza informs her as she fights to keep a jovial disposition. "Though you will not see or hear me, know that I am there just the same."
May Bell embraces her new friend as the rays of the sun bathe the garden with light, and she finds herself waking in her own bed.
The girl can scarce believe the dream she'd had. But had it been a dream? Her mind reels from the implication. It makes her body toss a bit, but something stops her. A rather hard something which pokes her side. She reaches for it and brings near to her eyes, the bell. The very thing that Liza had given her while in the dream.
A smile spreads across her face. It was real, there could no other explanation. Bell in hand she examines it closely. May Bell had been so enthralled by the thing that she never gave the bell a second thought. She turns it over in her hand, it's missing something. There's no clapper. How then can she ring the bell?
The issue confounds her, but having no explanation she shrugs and hops from her bed. Upon the bureau she places the trinket before getting dressed for the day. She's now ready to start her morning proper and practically skips out the door on her way to the breakfast table which experience tells her will be laden with good food.
Liza stands upon the bridge and stares into the water with saddened eyes. She had told the girl, her new friend, a lie. It was to be the only lie she ever willingly told her, but it was still a lie. The world she lived in does not vanish with the coming day, nor does she become part of the air as she had said.
The truth is that her world is sealed from the real world during the day and she's trapped within it. All about her the pleasant garden is returning to smoke that is its true form, but not the bridge. This construct she keeps, though it has no place in the middle of a wooden floor in a rounded room.
But this was the sight of their departure and she resolves that it will be the place of their reunion. And though the thought of the coming night brings with it a sweetness, the day is still very long and she will spend that time in woeful contemplation of the lot that has been given to her. She knows why she had been created, but it does not stop her from wondering all the same.
"Oh master," Liza calls out to the air itself and clasps her hands over her bosom. "Why ever did you create me to be this way?"
The question bounces about the room and returns to her in an echo. "Because this is how I wanted you to be," the echo responds in her own voice.
Liza knew the answer before she even asked the question, but it does not stop the tears from forming and falling over the railing.
What's more one of the wisps has left its jar and stands before her, forming itself into a shadow man. "How long can you keep this up?" he asks with piercing eyes the glow a malevolent shade of purple.
Liza says nothing, she does not even look at this new addition.
"You know that it won't last forever," the shadow man speaks further and steps nearer . "You will frighten her just like you did the others and you will be alone once again. On that day she will throw away that bell and she will call to you no more."
Liza turns to the visage and throws herself at his feet. "Master, must you say such things?" she entreats him with a tear stained face, staring up at him. "Ever since you left I have been without purpose and this life of solace does not comfort me. Please, dear master, do not chastise me so. If you will not end my suffering then at least leave me in peace."
It's no use, but she already knows that. The smoke she's talking to is not the master. It's merely a part of the programming that he had placed in it. To reason with it is of no use, nor will it ever leave her alone. She is stuck in this life of servile misery and there's nothing she can do about it. What's more, she has no means of turning herself off as does most any creature when they sleep.
No, at every moment of every second of every day she is indeed awake. Awake and aware of the nightmare she is chained to. She sinks further into her sorrow, but then there came a light. Her face brightens and a cheeriness steals across her face etching a smile. She has a companion and a friend.
May Bell will return to her and she will play hostess once again, contriving for her games and parties and all manner of distractions that an immortal being can conjure. For now, even for a short time, Liza has a friend and she's going to savor every moment of it. Even if that friendship does not last. The thought makes her shudder, but she pushes it to the back of her mind.
She has a friend that's all that matters. And that is all she cares about. In the meantime, she sets about sprucing the place up and making sure every little detail is as close to what it was when she left. This will be their meeting place, and this bridge will further cement their friendship for as long as she is able to maintain it.