The sun covered The Doll's skin in an unnatural heat that she had yet to grow used to. All she could see was darkness as she held her eyes closed in an attempt to pretend she was still asleep. An attempt that would ultimately be met with failure, for she knew today was inevitable. But just for a moment she would enjoy this.
A darkness so bleak she could only see.
To be surrounded by such darkness truly was bliss. This feeling of absence was something that she wished could be a constant in her life. But alas, such an escape was unachievable for an Ashencroft such as her.
She had a duty.
After only a moment no longer than a few seconds, The Doll opened her eyes, knowing that it was time to face the world she so wished to hide from. When her eyes opened, she was met with the monotone surroundings that she had grown so used to. It wasn't that the room was dark—the bright sun was an indicator of that fact—but rather she had simply lost the ability to see any color in the world long ago. But that was something she would prefer not to dwell on.
It was far too unbecoming.
With great care she got out of her luxurious bed, being sure not to dirty the glamorous covers that she had been kindly provided by the academy. She took this moment to examine the large but ultimately empty room around her. The Doll figured that she was supposed to decorate the room but never bothered; it was unnecessary to keep up appearances, as nobody would ever see it. Putting in effort for something that didn't help her keep up the appearance she was obligated to keep was… pointless? She supposed there was no better excuse she could make.
Besides, there was no time to think about that; she had a tight schedule to uphold, and meandering with unnecessary thoughts was pointless.
Repress.
Ignore.
Move.
The motto that had been drilled into her head and the motto that she would not soon forget.
She opened her closet, the one part of her room that she bothered to stock. Rows of clothes lined the hangers; all of them cost far more than most could afford, all of them necessary to maintain her public image. Yet despite the luxurious clothes that lined her closet, The Doll grabbed the academy-mandated uniform that she had left out the day before.
After she grabbed the clothes, she moved to the bathroom, where she would make herself presentable for the day. Walking over to the tub, she turned the magic crystal that powered the shower. She looked up and marveled at the magic.
Something so incredibly simple in this world.
Something so mandatory in this world.
Yet something that she herself could not do ever since her world turned gray. It was part of the reason she had been sent here rather than to a much more notable academy more befitting of her status.
Sighing, she disrobed her silk pajamas that she had long since forgotten the color of, neatly folding them as she placed them on the opposite side of her uniform. Entering the shower, she felt cold water cascade down her body, a feeling so familiar to her she didn't so much as shiver. She made sure to apply the proper products that would ensure her long hair that cascaded down her back kept the silky texture people seemed to love so much, along with that delphi flower smell of her homeland.
Once she finished, she stepped out of the shower, allowing the water to drip onto the cotton towel that was placed there to catch the water. The Doll dried herself off with a different soft, fluffy cotton towel, which was in relative contrast to the fur towels she was used to.
It wasn't a major difference, so she didn't particularly care.
Without missing a beat, she grabbed a second smaller towel for her hair, which she dried with great care; after all, it was her most important feature.
Now that she was dry, she began to dress herself in the uniform that she wasn't quite sure the color of, though she had been told it was predominantly gray by Father and liked to assume he wasn't lying.
Once she had finished putting her clothes on, she began to apply the facial cosmetics that she kept in the bathroom in order to make sure she kept her proper appearance. The Doll lightly applied what she believed to be cyan lipstick to her lips and the equally cyan-blue eyeshadow. After this she powdered her skin to make it appear even paler than it already was, giving her a perfect snow-white complexion.
Appearance was everything she told herself.
As if to affirm this belief she held, she stepped back from the mirror to fully appraise how the uniform fit now that it was on her. As she expected, the uniform fit perfectly with the long-sleeved, knee-length tunic and white-collared undershirt comfortably hugging her body. The outside design was simplistic for now, as she had not yet acquired any badges, sporting only the silver clasps that held the tunic together. The Doll wore black stockings and gloves that were not part of the uniform in order to show less skin. Finally, she wore gray leather boots with a white trim that also ran along the tunic to add some design to the simplistic uniform.
There she was, so perfectly proper and so properly perfect.
The uniform did hold some difference from the clothes she was used to back in her homeland, but this was a fact that she would have to grow used to considering the new climate. As if it were clockwork, she retrieved the last piece of her outfit, which she kept safely with her facial cosmetics.
It was a simple silver locket with power engraved in what it represented: the crest of the Ashencroft family had been oh so deeply engraved into it, an ornate flower enchanted to forever glow blue.
The delphi.
The delphi was the only flower that could grow in the harsh environment of her homeland, Gelun, a land covered in eternal frost. She had always been told the flower symbolized the eternal resilience of the people who had overcome the harsh environment to become one of the four major noble families in Rivenhiem.
The Doll often wished that she could be more like this flower that fought for its own survival.
Dismissing that foolish thought from her head, she proudly displayed the locket over her clothes, knowing that her status would scare away most of the people at this academy, as most who went here would be children of minor nobles or the most upper-class commoners. She was not allowed to talk to people for fear of exposing her lack of ability to use mana. She also had no reason to engage in conversation to maintain the Ashencroft appearance, as her entire future had already been planned out.
Her entire future had already been planned out…
A feeling that she much preferred to ignore attempted to slowly wriggle its way into her mind, yet she quickly managed to snuff it out.
She didn't have the right to think like that.
Ever since the incident.
Ever since she lost her magic.
She, who was once the noble only child of the Ashencroft line, meant to inherit a kingdom, lost her magic. She was no longer a human but rather a doll that her family would control.
This was a role she chose to fulfill. Happily
No, I'm not happy.
Happily for the sake of the Ashencroft family line.
These thoughts were quickly removed from her head as she stopped tracing the engraving on the locket, an action she found herself doing unconsciously rather often. The Doll figured this was from a sense of longing for what was inside the locket, but that was a stupid thought.
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What's done is done, and what's gone cannot come back.
The locket harmlessly fell in front of her uniform as she turned away from the mirror, leaving the bathroom ready to face her first day at Dreadwood Academy. The Doll opened the door outside her room and was met with the hall of the dormitory that she lived in. Dreadwood was divided into two dormitories. The first was the one she was currently housed in, designated Lunarie, and it housed all the women who went to Dreadwood, while the other house, Solus, housed the men. It was also typical to get assigned somebody to share a room with, but Father had pulled some strings so she could avoid this.
I did kind of want a roommate, though.
She was fine with the situation. I mean, sure, she had always heard stories about how roommates at the academy typically became friends for life. But she knew that was pointless now because she needed no friends. The Doll thought it would honestly be more of an obstacle than anything or even an unnecessary annoyance.
She kept these thoughts in her head as she moved through the fancy halls made of marble and draped in silk. Even without the ability to see color, she could still recognize the intricacy and appeal of the design. Magical lights floated around the hall, resembling pixies that you would hear about in children's stories. Marble pillars lined where she walked, covered in banners that held the emblem of the academy, a simple circle with a dead tree in the middle.
This tree was the Dreadwood Tree that the academy had been built around. According to her history lessons, it was a tree that had been grown by Kremmild, the last recorded person to use life magic, a magic that had died out over a thousand years ago because she decided to bear no children. It was a common belief that this stubbornness in not having any children led to a waste of such powerful magic.
Everybody noble and lowborn has a duty to bear children and continue their families' magic; it is the foremost duty that the royal family has assigned all in Rivenhiem.
As she reflected on this history lesson, she walked past various doors that girls were walking out of in uniforms near identical to hers, each ready to take on the day. Many were gathered in groups already. The Doll assumed this was because they knew each other's family or were simply friends from childhood. Actually, the more she looked around, she began to realize she was the only one walking alone. This trend continued as she exited the building and entered the foreign outside world.
The bright sun seemed to beam on everybody but her as a gentle breeze blew past. It really was strange to be in such a welcoming environment. In comparison to Gelun, Dreadwood and, by extension, the entire island of Arcada seemed like a paradise. Yet in this vast paradise of green lands, bright, happy, sunny, and fancy ornate buildings, she was completely alone.
I never wanted this.
This was just as intended.
The Doll continued her march toward the main academic building, uninhibited, just as expected. Nobody dared to approach her; the most she got was a few silent whispers that she could perhaps decipher if she listened in close enough. But ultimately she lacked the amount of care required to pay attention to these whispers and rumors. She had learned to avoid gossip after hearing what her family said about her in hushed tones they thought were unheard. It was better to avoid peering into things that were not her business; all that mattered was that she did as she was told.
Suddenly, she felt an arm reach around her shoulder with a strong grasp, pulling her into a familiar but unwelcome embrace. The Doll immediately recognized a smell of cologne so strong that would have made her gag had she not forced herself to hold it back. While she held back this gag, she felt a rough, calloused hand reach underneath her chin, forcing her to look up.
The sun shone in her eyes, forcing her to squint as a shadow slowly cascaded down upon her. A shadow resembling a head with sharp angular features and hair that was slicked back with what she knew were excessive amounts of magical gel. The face grew ever closer to her, making it apparent that it intended to plant a kiss on her.
She decided to take action before the worst-case scenario happened and brought her hand up to block the oncoming kiss.
“Would you mind releasing me, Lukaz?” She said in the cold, emotionless tone that she had used for the past twelve years of her life.
The embrace that she had been forced into was suddenly released as a slimy voice said, “Very well, dear. But I must ask when you will allow me to kiss you, my love.” He said these words loudly and without shame, as it was already widely known that Lukaz had been engaged to her for four years.
Lukaz was her fiancé in an arranged marriage that her parents had set up for her when she was only thirteen, and it has held strong since then. They held too much respect for their name to force her to get officially married so young, but they had made sure she was aware the two would be married when she reached eighteen. The Doll knew it wasn't a bad deal for her family, as it would ensure that the Ashencroft magic was passed through her as a woman, and decided to accept it because of this fact.
While she did accept this out of necessity, she never found herself feeling anything that would be described as love or attraction to Lukaz. He was just another part of this future that was planned out for her. Due to this, she did her best to keep her distance from him when possible, only doing what was necessary to keep up appearances.
I don't want him to ever touch me.
“What are you doing here, Lukaz?" The Doll said in such a way that it felt more like a pointed statement or accusation than a question.
A slimy smirk crept up on Lukaz’s lips as he suddenly lurched forward and grabbed her hand with a dramatic flourish, falling to one knee, looking her directly in the eye. "Well, my love, I came for you. When I heard the news that you had been sent to such a low-class cesspool, I simply couldn't allow you to suffer here alone.” As he said this, she saw his head begin to incline lower, clearly showing his intent to kiss the hand that he was currently cradling.
For a moment she thought about jerking her hand back to her side, back to her own control, but she had become acutely aware of the crowd that had gathered around them after the display Lukaz put on. She figured that jerking her hand back to her side would cause an uproar considering the very public engagement the two had. It was better for appearances that she grinned and bare with this regardless of her lack of enthusiasm at the idea.
I hate this.
She felt a warm, wet, uncomfortable feeling suddenly cover her hand as Lukaz planted the uncomfortable kiss onto it. She heard gasps and whispers from the crowd that had at this point become rather large. The crowd was generally gushing at the display that she figured most would view as romantic, yet she could only feel disgust and discomfort at what had just happened.
I want to vomit.
Looking down at Lukaz, she saw expectant eyes as if he were expecting some form of positive reaction or praise to come from her. Yet all she could feel was bile rising in her throat.
I will give you a reaction.
The Doll wasn't sure why she felt a need to react so negatively to this; it was a minor act, something that could be attributed to a greeting more often than not. Yet for some reason the expectant romantic context, the feeling that she was obligated to react with joy, and these ideas of how she should act in response to this transgression against her own body.
All of it made her sick.
It makes me sick.
She looked down at him and saw his eyes raise in what was evident surprise. She wasn't quite sure why he was surprised but figured from the uncomfortable feeling across her face her normally stoic and calm face had shifted to something else entirely. It must have looked entirely unbecoming, judging by the sheer shock that had come across his face. She figured it was unlikely that anybody in the crowd was close enough to see her put on such an unbecoming face.
She could still recover this.
Why should I hide who I am?
She was a doll; she had no reason to react so harshly to such a simple act.
I am a person.
A nameless, faceless, emotionless doll—that's all she was.
I have a name.
She needed to calm down.
My name is —-- Ashencroft
The doll couldn't take it anymore, this voice, this nagging, these expectations. She didn't know why she was reacting this way. She needed it out; she felt a light so bright that it was closing in around her, threatening to suffocate her. She needed darkness, seclusion, and quiet. Something. Anything. An escape.
Then she felt it, a foreign feeling coming across her cheek, one that felt like a single drop of rain rolling down her cheek. This was a feeling, a sensation, that she hadn't felt since that day, since that incident. It was an unbecoming sign of weakness, something that she had to stop.
She could feel it, a floodgate that threatened to break at any moment.
I need help.
Suddenly she felt a gust of wind pass by her as a new voice popped up. It wasn't the quiet whispers of the crowd around her; It wasn't the ethereal voice that entered her head, and it wasn't even the repulsive words of Lukaz.
"Honestly, such a crowd of people forming around this display. All of you are pretty pathetic if you ask me.” The voice was gentle and quiet despite the harsh words that were spoken; it was as if an infant animal began growling.
Turning around, she looked towards the direction of the voice but saw nobody of note. Then she heard more words from this voice, accompanied by a giggle, "I'm right behind you, silly.” She turned around with haste and realized she was face-to-face with a girl who was very notably hanging upside down.
Her face was heart-shaped, and her hair was what could only be described as carefully sculpted spiral twin tails, which she figured must have taken hours to make properly. Everything about her looked entirely human, yet she gave off this otherworldly feeling that seemed to separate her from anyone she had seen before.
Her lack of ability to see color always made it hard to tell what others looked like, but she could tell from the tones used that this girl had light skin and hair that was clearly pitch white or very blonde.
"Wh— Who are you?” The Doll said in a voice that showed clear surprise that she couldn't hide despite the normally calm tone that she kept.
A soft, delicate hand reached across and wiped up the tear that had rolled down her cheek.
"Doesn't matter," the girl said as she put on a smile that could only be described as cheeky. “You want to get out of here, don't you?"
She stepped backwards, knowing that going with her would negatively affect her image, yet she nodded her head before she could stop herself.
I want to go.
"Let's go then." The girl said in that squeaky voice. That hand that had previously wiped the tear off her face suddenly turned into a caress of her cheek as she felt herself rise up off the ground.
It was weird, she never knew a light could feel so comforting.