《Schwarz -‖- Der Wille zur Macht》Arc IV Chapter 27
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IV
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Arc IV Chapter 27
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17th Ignis Solar 753 AAC
A cute yawn filled the cold, dark night amidst the shining stars. Aurora awakened from the terrible dream after what felt like a never ending eternity. Her dream was a veritable nightmare, a nightmare that had lasted far too long for her liking. But her nightmare had finally ended.
Aurora was rubbing her tired eyes to dispel her drowsiness. They were travelling home after a long and arduous semester. The academy had ended, and she was returning home to her father. Yet in her dreams, misfortune befell her and Count Geralt. Their carriage was ambushed and attacked by bloodthirsty assassins. In the end, she even died through their hands, murdered in cold blood. But it was all just a dream. A product of her fantasy.
A soft sigh of relief escaped Aurora's lips. Everything was fine now. She was alive and healthy. The nightmare was over, and she had finally regained consciousness, although in the middle of the night. It was dark and cold. It was past midnight and the moon stood high. Her conclusion was that she must have slept through an entire day, or even multiple days, but there was no way to tell for sure as to how long she had been banished to the land of dreams.
But first things first. As Count Geralt used to say, retain a calm mind and trust in your judgement. Observe your surroundings and gather information before taking a decision. Aurora honoured his advice.
Aurora moved her head, fighting her stiff neck. It was stiffer than stone, probably due to her long period of rest. The room was shrouded in darkness, only illuminated by the soft light of the moon. The room was simple, even spartan judging her noble standards. It was not a room unlike those belonging to the many inns they had frequented on their journey, but what attracted her attention most was not the lack of proper furniture and the apparent simplicity of the interior, but rather the size of everything around her. Everything was gargantuan. Everything was so gigantic. The room. The window. The table in the corner. The shelves. The wardrobe. Her bed. In fact, the blanket covering her was enormous in size.
Her eyes gazed at an immense piece of cloth reaching as far as the horizon and beyond. The blanket was truly gigantic, defying any shred of common sense. What was happening here? It was as if she had been shrunk, miniaturised, which was of course completely absurd. Impossible.
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Aurora shook her head to dispel her frivolous thoughts. This was reality and not a fairytale for children. How was it possible for her to have been shrunken …
A tender snore freed her from her stupor, its source unknown. Yet the source must be close.
Aurora turned her head around and what she saw was the impossible. Her eyes spotted a familiar face ... ... ...
Her entire body petrified in shock, horror, trepidation. The blood in her veins froze and her breath halted. This ... This ... This ... was impossible. How ... Why ... What was ... What was happening here?
The girl sleeping beside her. The girl was her! Aurora was gazing upon her own slumbering figure, peacefully and soundly asleep beneath the cover of a warm blanket.
There was no doubt, the girl was her. It was unmistakably her who lying before her. But if she was asleep, then who was she …
Her panic stricken gaze wandered downwards, inspected her arms and hands. These hands ... These arms ... They were not hers. They were not her own. They were not even human. Mechanical joints and the pale lustre of porcelain replaced where once were human skin, muscles, and bone ...
...
...
...
She had been turned into a doll. Not just any doll. She had turned into her doll. The prophecies had come true. Whether it was in jest or in earnest, people called her a doll in the past. Now the day had come that she had truly become one. Her ghost, her spirit, her soul had somehow been transferred into her doll!
...
...
...
Aurora panicked. This was an unmitigated disaster. Her breathing accelerated, which was superfluous considering her current state. She was now a doll. Dolls didn't need any air.
Not to mention, she shouldn't feel anything, but she clearly did. Anxiety gripped her beating heart. What would become of her? Would she awaken again? Would her soul return again to her body? Or was she now forever trapped in the body of her doll? What she now destined forever to live the life of a doll?
Aurora shook her head. It was too early to resort to defeatist thoughts. It was too early to despair. Clenching her small doll hands, Aurora gathered her remaining courage and set in motion and determination before embarking on her mission to reclaim her former body. There must be a way. Not everything was lost yet.
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Aurora rose from beneath her blanket and approached her slumbering body. Now, how was she to reclaim her body? That was the crucial question.
The best step was probably to wake herself. That sounded like a good idea.
Her plan formed and Aurora went to work. Her little arms poked her own face.
...
Poke.
...
Poke.
...
Poke.
...
No reaction. Her body continued sleeping, ignoring any of her advances, not much to her surprise.
Aurora doubled her efforts and her poking increased in strength and intensity, although her result proved meagre. Not only did her efforts fail, they also achieved the opposite effect. Her sleeping body suddenly started moving, and her arms reached for her in a dangerous motion that resembled a hug.
Fortunately, Aurora was quick to escape the dangerous clutch of death, dodging the incoming hug. Her body’s arms only caught empty air.
Aurora sighed in relief. This was a close call. She nearly ended up being cuddled to death. A fate most appropriate for a doll, but certainly not for a noble girl of her birth.
Aurora proceeded with her quest. Maybe it was a good idea to deploy magic. Her spirit might be trapped in her doll, but it was the soul and not the physical body that acted as the circuit between mana and magic. It was certainly worth a try.
Listening to her fractured soul, Aurora went into herself. Not yet extinguished by the cruel forces of fate, the flame of her soul was still flickering in the darkness. It was weak, but it was there.
Aurora channelled her magic. A magic circle formed and a chant a followed. “Ignis, bringer of ash and destrcution, follow my command!” No flame sprung forth. Her fire defied her command, disobeying her.
“Hmpf! Ignis! Ignis! Ignis!” Aurora increased her efforts. Third time was the charm. A small purple flame appeared, created through sheer force of will. The flame was dancing in the night, floating over her palm.
Aurora jumped in joy. She had succeeded. This was a victory, but what now?
Her gaze wandered between her sleeping figure and her flame. It was probably not a good idea to wake herself with fire in the presence of so much flammable material. She had no intention at all of dying in a careless fire.
Thus, her quest to reclaim her body continued. Maybe the room was holding the answer to her transformation.
Mustering all her courage, Aurora set out to explore the area before being stopped by the edge of the bed. The bed was only three dolls tall, yet she hesitated. She was certainly not scared of heights. Only a little bit.
Aurora closed her eyelids and jumped into the unknown, her legs landing softly on the wooden floor. She made it. She survived the jump. Now it was time for her to investigate the lodgings.
Moving her joints, Aurora, a lone doll on her own, wandered across the wooden floor. It was a strange ... feeling ...
Her vision faded ... Her consciousness waned ... Her strength vanished ... Her grip on reality weakened with every further step. Her time was ending ...
Aurora dropped and fell, her now inanimate body hitting the wooden floor.
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Aurora was stretching her arms and yawned. The rays of dawn greeted her. A fresh, new day had begun. “Good mornings~, Dolly~. I hope you had a wonderful nigh~ ... Dolly? Dolly~, where are you~? Don't hide~!”
Her eyes scoured her bed, but her precious doll was nowhere to be found. Her doll had simply vanished ...
“Oh, there you are~.” Aurora sprinted to her doll in need to pick her up. Her hands were caressing her hair. “Silly girl~, didn't I tell you that you shouldn't run away~?”
“...” No reaction. Her doll chose silence. Obviously, dolls couldn't speak. Obviously, dolls couldn't move. Her doll must have probably somehow fallen off the bed during the night.
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Salutations, fellow readers and authors!
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