Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Be good, be kind."

Thump. Thump. Thump. The dasher ground into the butter churner. Karina hated the way her fingers trembled at the sounds of her adopted sisters praying, and her pace quickened to the beat.

"Be fair, be gentle."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Karina glanced back at Helga and Gertie from the kitchen. Their usually unkind faces were pressed in concentration, their foreheads were beaded with sweat. Despite their attempts to be still, Helga's golden braids wavered and Gertie's skirts shifted every so often.

"Treat your elders with respect."

Thump. Thump. Thump. The elders in the village were rotten and cruel, their hands only used for slaughtering innocents. Why should anyone respect that? Karina slammed her eyes shut. Concentrate. You're churning butter, you are better than them. You can do this, 'Rina.

"Guard against evil spirits, yagas, and warlocks."

Thump. Evil? Karina's eyes flew open, her hands striping a more vibrant red and white the harder she gripped the dasher to prevent her fingers from shaking even more. There was no way her mother was evil. No way any yaga truly was. Focus. Thump.

"Hang witch charms on your doors and iron on the doorways to keep out yagas, as those sacred objects are toxic to them."

Thump. The butter was finished. She turned around to grab the butter urn, and did so successfully despite the blurring of her vision and the trembling of her fingers. Don't focus on them, focus on you.

"And above all, defend, respect, and yield to your Ancestors."

Her vision burned red. The Ancestors. Clatter.

The butter urn fell onto the floor, and Karina scurried to pick it up. But it was too late. The mistake had been made, and she would pay.

Gertie and Helga glanced across the room to Karina before nudging each other and continuing the prayer. They may have ignored their so-called sister's mistake during the Ancestor's prayer, but that was only because they couldn't have any more interruptions. It was one of the most important rituals in the whole year, and Karina had ruined it.

Karina felt her face flush with shame, and she hid beneath her curtain of auburn hair. She walked outside with the butter urn and a rag to wash the utensil. Her head bent low over the urn, muttering a prayer of thanks to the Ancestors that it hadn't cracked. She would have been in a deep mess if it had. It was the ceremonial pot used only on spiritual occasions: Accusation Day, Ancestor's Day, and Trader's Day. All of which were important. All of which were her worst nightmares.

Sighing, Karina walked to the well and pulled up the bucket from the bottom, weighing the rope carefully in her calloused fingers to make sure that there was a good amount of water in it. The mistake would probably get her multiple smacks from Olga and perhaps a few days without food. It was fine, she told herself. She was used to it.

Eight years of forced servitude had done her pride good.

Dragging the bucket onto the edge of the well, Karina dipped her rag into the water and began to scrub the butter urn. The pot had to be perfectly spotless, otherwise the Ancestors would get angry. At least, that was what Olga had told her.

Finishing her cleaning of the butter dish, Karina tromped back inside, into the kitchen. Gertie and Helga were finished with the prayers; they were packing up the engraved Ancestor stones into the cloth-lined wooden boxes. The sight of such revered objects sent a shot of pain through Karina's heart. If Ma hadn't been killed, if Da hadn't died, I would be praying right now, too.

If Olga "the Oracle" hadn't passed the law that yagas and suicides couldn't be Ancestors, I would be praying for them as such.

Her knuckles turned white, and her face clenched in anger. If, if, if, if, if pounded through her brain, and she saw red. Olga. This was Olga's fault.

No.

She forced herself to think rationally, smother her emotions with cold logic. This was the villagers' fault. The villagers and Duras's. They were the ones who killed her parents, had burned her mother and tied the noose around her father's neck using his own fingers. They were the ones who had stolen her future from her.

Olga had at least given her something. Even if it was just a roof over her head.

Her fingers were working again, her feet walking her back towards the butter churner where she had completed the creation of the treat. It swum pale in the buttermilk, and Karina used the butter tongs to pick up the butter and place it carefully into the pot. It was good work. It was perfect.

It was admirable that she would stand in front of a butter churner for two hours despite the amount of chores she had, despite the fact that any villager who had less to do could have taken over the job.

Muttering another prayer to the Ancestors to keep calm, Karina slipped back outside. She would have to do the hardest part of her tasks now, and she was going to need help. She dug her hand into her pocket for the little doll that was her mother's and a morsel of bread. Sang the smooth-sounding song in some strange language to make Lilith come alive. Watched Lilith eat the crust before speaking.

"Lilith, today is Ancestor's day." Her voice was raspy from not using it, and she cleared her throat. "Can you help me with the iron shavings? I can't touch them; they burn my skin and cause welts. They'll think I'm a yaga if that happens."

The doll nodded slowly, seeming uncertain despite the fact that Karina had asked for help with this every year since she was eight. And the doll had needed an explanation every time. "I will need more bread, more energy, to complete the task." Karina nodded and dug her hand into her pockets once again only to be met with rough cloth.

"I have nothing, and I can't go fetch more."

The doll tilted its head, and if black buttons could blink, Lilith would have. Her cloth face wrinkled as she responded. "I can take something else."

Karina felt the chill of the autumn wind wrap around her like a blanket. What could Lilith mean? She'd never asked for anything but food before.

"What is it?"

"You are sad today. Give me some of your sadness. That will be energy enough for me, Karina."

Karina's brow furrowed. "I am sad every day. What is so special about today?"

"Sadness about death is stronger." Lilith's r's rolled and her voice was low, dark, and oddly comforting to the servant.

"How will my sadness provide energy for you?"

"Emotions are energy. I need energy."

Karina nodded. She had to; it was a matter of life and death to not be thought of as a yaga. This might not have been Accusation Day, but it was still incredibly important in defense against yagas. "How will I do it?"

Lilith's voice was creaky, and the doll leaned forward slightly. Her faded brown dress and black yarn hair fluttered in the breeze. "I...will do it. Come...here."

Karina bent down towards Lilith, her only friend, and slowly felt her emotions wash away, relaxing some of the tension in her body. The knots in her shoulders loosened. "That's wonderful, Lilith. It feels incredible." She sighed contentedly. "Please do the iron, and guard against yagas. I have to take down the old witch-charm and put up a new one, sweep the cooking area for the feast preperations then finish the weaving for the Feast tonight."

Lilith leaned backwards, her buttons seemingly brighter than before. "You are a good seamstress."

Karina felt her skin grow cold at the rare praise, the like of which she never received. She turned her face away from the doll. "Good bye, Lilith."

"Thank you, Karina."

Karina looked back towards the doll, and as she did, her vision caught a peek of bright clothing. A slash of a blonde braid. Each disappearing behind the hut.

Someone was watching.

Hi! I hope you all enjoyed this; I was really uncertain about this chapter, so please tell me what you think! If you liked it, please vote and tell me what you liked. If you didn't like it, please tell me why and hopefully I can make this piece better. I really appreciate constructive feedback, so feel free to give some!

Thank you for reading!

Also: Above is a drawing of Karina done by one of my close friends (who seriously needs to get a DeviantArt). I love it!

Edited on 2/23/16--No major edits, but more description of Lilith, Helga, and Gertie and a better founded opening scene. Grammar edits corrected. Thanks to all of the NBR editors!

Edited on 4/4/16--Sentence fixed.

Closed for Wattpad Edits on 10/28/16