She was in a void, a vastness that knew no end. It frightened her to be there. But at the same time, it didn’t. It also managed to make her angry to be there. She didn’t know what all of this was.

          Ninya didn’t know what the word “know” meant. What she did know was that she had felt this before. She felt a hand, a hand of flame grabs her being and pulled her from the depths of the void around herself. Up she went, up and up and up she was pulled.

          Then light, the light of a ceiling she didn’t know. It was rather dark, but the purple light from a lamp to her side made it noticeable. She tried to make herself think, but thinking was hard. She almost started to sleep once more, but thought better about it.

          She was in a place that she didn’t know, and that scared her. Then, out of nowhere, her mind flashed. Memories of her being questioned flashed into her mind. She had been asked if she wished to live again; she had said yes.

          Magic, she knew she was supposed to be able to understand at least how the most basic of magic worked, but she couldn’t for the life of herself even come close to understand how it functioned. She then decided to forget how it was supposed to function. Right now, she needed to get her bearings.

          She looked to her left to see a nightstand with a purple, glowing lamp alight by her bed. She looked to the right, there sat a dresser to was facing in the same direction as the foot of the bed.

          She then looked to the foot of her bed to see a woman there, she was reading a book, what the book cover said, she didn’t know. It was in a script she knew nothing of. When she made to sit up, the woman looked up at her with eyes of emerald.

          “Ninya! You’re awake! That is a relief,” the woman stated in relief.

          Ninya knew that voice, but she had seen the face that that voice belonged to. It couldn’t be her. Miss Viridael didn’t have red hair, she had black. She also didn’t make Ninya feel kind of funny in her heart, but that was beside the point. She decided to ask and confirm what she thought.

          “Miss Viridael is that you?” she asked the older woman.

          She nodded her head in slight happiness. It seemed that her guessing right had made her slightly happy, and that seemingly translated to Ninya herself. But then she spoke up to clear some things.

          “But my name is not Viridael, it is Aeskell Peregrinus Walker. But you can simply call me Lady Aeskell. If you want to be more formal, call me Lady Walker,” she explained to the now somewhat overwhelmed young woman.

          The girl simply nodded her head and sat up. It seemed to her that this day was going to get rather confusing and overwhelming rather quickly. It got even more so when she looked at her arms.

          Instead of normal joints, there seemed to be ball joints the color of rose gold, with rivers of brass colored veins spread throughout the joint. The more she looked at it, the more it seemed to suck her in. They pulsed with each thrum of her heart.

          “Ahem,” Aeskell coughed into her hand to get the girl’s attention; and Ninya looked up at her, “I was wondering if you would look in this mirror that you seem to have missed in the corner of the room. You aren’t human anymore like I said. Instead, I made you into what could be called a Living Doll. A Living Doll is an artificial magic being that specializes in magic.” She explained as she walked over to the bed and helped Ninya pull herself out of the bed.

          Aeskell helped her get out of bed. That was when Ninya realized that she was only wearing underwear. It didn’t really come as a shock that she was mostly naked, but at the same time she didn’t like that Aeskell was basically seeing all of her.

          But then again, she seemed to have been the one to change her for the most part. Her limbs and their joints seemed to be modeled after some form of porcelain doll. Her hips also seemed to be joined together like her arms, not to mention her legs.

          It was all so new and strange that she was like this now. Sure, she had wanted to live, but was she even Ninya anymore? Was she even the same person from before she met Aeskell and Momon?

          She stopped in place as soon as she laid her eyes on the mirror in front of her. The person in front of her wasn’t her; it simply wasn’t.

          There, in the place that the small and slightly nervous girl known as Ninya the spellcaster, was a Beauty. Her hair was that of a gorgeous brown that seemed to shimmer like metal. Her eyes had a strange and otherworldly luster, like that of the woman beside her.

          Her curves had been exemplified, any man would turn their head to look at her. Her body was seemingly made of flesh, yet it somehow wasn’t. Ninya went to touch her own ears, for they seemed to be pointed now, and felt cool cartilage beneath her fingers.

          Her body fat was slim instead of simply there. Her jaw was less squarish and more cut in, like someone had trimmed the very bone and made it angular, yet smooth. Her hair went to her shoulders, giving her a more mature appearance.

          She seemed taller than the last time she measured herself, or rather, this woman was taller than herself. This wasn’t Ninya. This woman was a goddess of looks, of beauty. It was then that Ninya noticed that her eyes were starting to tear up.

          Water was spilling from her eyes, the girl in the mirror was crying as well. It was like they were the same person. It was almost like she had been reborn in a new body. But that couldn’t be true!

          No, this was a dream! In the last few moments of her life, she was dreaming of being the woman, this version of herself that simply had everything. Curves, check! Alure, check! A family… no…

          No… Tuare wasn’t here, she was probably still a plaything of that noble…

          She wanted her sister here…

To hold her in her arms…

          The tears were pouring from her face now. It was like a waterfall had formed upon her face, upon the woman in the mirrors face. She sank to her knees as she began to bawl. Her sabs of sadness were coming full force.

          It was then that she felt a touch… No, it was a hug. Large, yet motherly arms wrapped themselves around her. Arms that held warmth. Arms that held comfort and kindness. She began to bury herself in them. Those warm arms.

          It took a minute for her to realize who they belonged to. The motherly arms were too big to be Aeskell’s, so it must have been someone else’s. But there was no one other than the two of them in the room.

          Her sadness was soon replaced with ever so slight confusion as she looked up. There, instead of a human gaze, was the gaze of a strange, three eyed woman. The kindness in her gaze was enrapturing, like the sight of Aeskell’s and now her own gaze.

          But her eyes were black, inhuman, with three green and glowing pupils in each eye. The woman spoke, and her voice was like that of butter or honey, maybe both.

          “Now, are you all tuckered out from your heart pouring itself out? Are you ok now, little one?” the mother in all but name asked.

…

After Ainz had killed the woman that seemingly was very confident in her… strange and crass self… he took the adventurer plates that she had stolen from the people that had helped him spread his name and prepared to leave the graveyard that he had fought the woman in.

          As he looked around the now messed up battlefield, he spotted Hamsuke running to his form. The large rodent then spotted his true form as he turned to meet her.

          “That’s not master! That’s a Monster!” she screamed out.

          It was then that Narberal landed on her. A large puff of dust and dirt followed the slight impact, if you could call it that. Narberal in her maid outfit stood atop the hamster’s head.

          “That’s simply lord Ainz, and you will not call him a monster,” Narberal stated flatly.

          After Aeskell had left to go to the great tomb, Hamsuke had been acting a little antsy, like she was afraid of being left behind. Narberal seemed to be taken with Aeskell, so she had been treating Hamsuke with a certain briskness that made Ainz sigh.

          “Narberal, could you gather all the corpses and pile them up in front of the tomb? Also, I will be taking this person’s corpse with me. Aeskell told me that her “Rebirth” spell can reform and completely alter memories. I was wondering how it would work on this woman,” he stated as he opened a gate to the fifth floor of the great underground tomb of Nazarick, and shoved the orange girl in.

          “Of course, my lord,” Narberal said.

          He then made his way to Nfirea. The young man was in what seemed like a mausoleum, naked, and floating in the middle of it. The boy was in a seemingly sleep-like state. A circlet was around his head and Ainz felt his collectors itch as soon as he appraised the magical item.

          “This magic couldn’t exist in Yggdrasil. I want it, but a Promise is a promise,” he stated to himself.

          He then soon freed the boy and healed his mind and eyesight with a simple spell. It was rather easy all in all, but now his mind began to wonder to the woman he was going to ask Aeskell to change, what would she mold the person into?

          Well, those were thoughts for another day, right now he needed to slip into his Momon persona once more.

…