By the time the pair had reached his little country cottage, the sun had long since set and the night sky filled with twinkling stars. A gibbous moon hung hesitantly over the eastern horizon, giving enough light for Fakir to easily hop his short, stone fence and stride confidently to his door. He had left it unlocked when he left that afternoon, something he was grateful for in the moonlight. Ahiru danced merrily near him, too excited about finally getting to see Fakir's "den" to keep still.

Once inside he quickly dropped his bag on the table and hunted for a tin of matches and the nearest lamp. "It's so dark," Ahiru commented, carefully looking around herself in the dim kitchen.

"That's because I haven't lit the lamp yet," Fakir responded.

"What's a lamp?" Ahiru came close to him, wondering what he was fiddling with in the corner.

Rather than respond, Fakir simply struck a match and held it to the lamp's wick. He heard a terrified shriek near his elbow, followed immediately by the clatter of fallen furniture and the sharp moan of his dining table being shoved about. The writer made sure to put out the match and replace the lamp's glass chimney before turning to see what had happened.

Ahiru was pressed against the far wall, inching slowly further away from him. Her eyes were wide, every freckle stood out in stark contrast against her pale face, her ears laid back, and her entire form shaking in abject terror.

"Ahiru? What's wrong?"

Her mouth flapped uselessly for a few tries before she finally managed to barely whisper her answer, "Fire."

"Oh." Fakir wasn't sure what else to say, it made sense after all. What creature of forest and wood wouldn't be terrified of even such a small flame? Campfires were said to keep wild beasts at bay as well. The writer turned the wick down until the flame was snuffed, when he turned back Ahiru had relaxed though she still seemed wary. "I apologize, I should have warned you what I was about to do." Ahiru didn't seem to know how to respond to that, simply stood against the wall and stared at Fakir. Or he assumed so, the moonlight was not enough to see by in his kitchen. "Let's head back outside, alright?" He thought he saw the forest spirit nod before she left through the still open kitchen door. The writer quickly followed her out into his garden.

It took Fakir's eyes a moment to adjust, when they did he spotted her next to his one fruit tree. He walked up to her, afraid of spooking his still new friend. "Are you... will you be okay?"

"You started a fire! In your own den! I don't... it's so... why would you do that?!"

"Humans use contained fires to light up our homes, we have for years upon years. Since long before I was born." Fakir wasn't sure how to explain how long people had used fires, did forest spirits understand millennia? "I'm sorry, I didn't think to warn you. Perhaps you'd rather see my home during the day?" Ahiru thought the offer over, or attempted to. Her thoughts were interrupted by a deep yawn. "I promise not to light any fires while you are in my home."

Ahiru nodded, "Alright, tomorrow then. It's so late, I'm going to go back to the forest. Good night." Fakir bid Ahiru a goodnight as well, watching as she tiredly walked back into the forest.

The writer returned to his home, shutting the kitchen door sullenly behind him. He was feeling quite depressed, anxious that he may have lost a friend. He wasn't sure why he was so anxious, he had lost new friends before, he had seen many a promising friendship wither and die while still a mere bud. So why was the thought that he may have just frightened off an annoying fae creature he had wanted nothing to do with when he first met her so awful? Fakir forgot about the notes he wanted to make earlier that evening and stumbled his way blindly to his room, loathe to light the lamp this night, to spend the rest of the night tossing and turning as he struggled with himself.

The first thing he did when the sun's rays peaked through his bedroom window was to go down stairs and make sure both the matches and the lamp were safely stowed away out of sight and where he could easily find them later. He did a walk through of the rest of his home, there was at least one other lamp hanging about and he wanted to make sure he didn't frighten Ahiru if- no, when she arrived later that day. He wasn't sure when she'd show up, since she got sleepy so quickly at sunset he guessed she would rise with the sun too, but that wasn't a guarantee she'd come straight over.

Fakir had time to do some cursory cleaning, open all his blinds, and eat a quick breakfast before Ahiru did show up, she stood out in his garden and called to him, "Fakiiiiiiiiir!"

The writer poked his head out his kitchen door and smiled at the diminutive forest spirit, "Ahiru! I was a bit worried you might not show after the fright I gave you last night. Do you still want to come in?" Ahiru nodded eagerly, ears perked up as she tried to peer past him. He stepped back and opened the door wider, motioning inward with his free hand. "Welcome to my home, feel free to look around and ask me about anything."

"Thank you, I will!" Ahiru happily bounced over the threshold and into the kitchen, looking around with wide eyes. Fakir smiled to himself again as he shut the door behind her. He really was glad she had come back after her fright, and he certainly wanted to make sure she would always feel welcome in his home.

A direct sequel to chapter 6 Banquet of Darkness. I had most of this chapter sitting on my hard drive for a while and I could have published it then, but I didn't like ending it so angstily when the only angst that's supposed to be in this story is how misanthropic Fakir is. Anyway, I realized that having Ahiru poking her nose into every nook and cranny in Fakir's home might be interesting for the first paragraph, it could easily become dull and repetitive and not add much to the characters or overall story, so you can just imagine for yourselves her looking in his pantry and bedroom and every cupboard and closet and even inside his desk and Fakir giving her shorter and shorter answers as even his determined patience is tested.