Lavender, The Mad Collector

A package arrived at Lavender’s doorstep — not just any package, mind you, but the package. With the excitement of a squirrel who’s spotted a diamond-shaped acorn, she dashed out of her lavender-colored cottage to greet it, nearly tripping over her robe and dreams along the way. Just a few weeks ago, she'd ventured into the flickering lantern-lit corners of a black market auction — the type held in secret basements and whispered about in antique circles. And tucked between a cursed music box and a jar of bottled laughter, she had found it: an item strange enough to stir her collector’s heart — a totem. The auctioneer, a man with spectacles too large for his face and a voice like buttered ink, had told her the tale: the totem was a family heirloom, reluctantly sold by a man desperate to pay for his grandfather’s hospital bills. Whether that was truth or well-crafted fiction didn’t matter to Lavender. The totem had called to her. Appraisers tried every method known to modern technology. They scanned, scratched, scanned again, and sighed in defeat. No one could say what it was made of — only that it refused to burn, refused to break, and looked like glass... but wasn't. It was a sleek, pitch-black serpent, coiled in eternal stillness, with two amethyst eyes that glimmered like distant galaxies. The eyes themselves — unidentifiable. The body — unbreakable. The totem — irresistible. And it had cost her millions. She took the box inside with reverent hands, as if carrying a newborn dragon. She peeled back the wrappings and lifted the serpent from its slumber. After a long, adoring gaze, she floated — no, practically glided — to her personal warehouse. A sprawling vault of wonders she’d been building since childhood. Shrunken zeppelins, whispering skulls, a mirror that lied politely. Her collection was her world. Her name was Lavender. And to those who knew the undercurrents of strange things and strange people, she was known only as Lavender, the Mad Collector. As she admired the newly acquired totem, she ran a curious finger along its surface. That’s when it happened. A prick. A fang. Just the tiniest sting on her fingertip — barely more than a kiss. But oh, how quickly the dizziness followed. The room spun, or maybe the world did. She stumbled. The totem remained clutched tightly in her hand. And just before the shadows overtook her, she saw the totem’s eyes flash brilliantly — blinding violet light that made her squeeze her eyes shut. Then — nothing. --- She awoke with a headache pounding like drumbeats at a goblin wedding. Slowly, she sat up, rubbing her temples, only to freeze when her eyes took in her surroundings. A cave. Small. Damp. Not hers. Definitely not hers. It was barely big enough for one person, and from the mossy scent and leafy walls, she realized she was now in a forest — one that hummed with unfamiliar magic. Her lavender summer dress was crumpled, her feet bare, her wild black curls unbound and trailing like ivy. But thankfully — thankfully — the ring was still on her finger. She pressed the gemstone embedded in the band. In a shimmer of light and clever engineering, the ring expanded and transformed into a gleaming dagger — her masterpiece. Lavender wasn’t just a mad collector, after all. She was also a mad creator. Crafted with her own designs and the help of the most advanced underground tech, the Mad Collector’s Ring could become any melee weapon one could imagine — a blade, a whip, a hammer of crystallized chaos. Today, it was a dagger. Sharp. Loyal. Beautiful. In one hand, the totem. In the other, her weapon. She stepped out of the cave without hesitation, guided only by curiosity, instinct, and a strange buzzing hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t entirely lost. She wandered the forest aimlessly, hoping to stumble upon signs of life or something vaguely resembling civilization. And then — ROAR. Without warning, a monstrous lion — larger than a carriage and twice as loud — stepped into her path, golden eyes locked on hers, growling like thunder caught in its throat. Lavender raised her dagger. She smirked. “Well,” she said to no one in particular, “this just got interesting.”