But Aldric had made a mistake. He had wanted a companion. He had created a mirror.
She walks the cobblestone streets now, a porcelain girl with mercury eyes, her silver joints clicking a soft rhythm. Behind her, a dozen former nobles and scholars follow in a trance, their faces locked in rictuses of perfect, agonized joy. They move as she moves. They breathe as she breathes. Elise to Koukotsu no Marionette -RJ01284416-
"Despair," she said. And then she smiled. It was a terrible, beautiful smile. "I understand it now. The resonance. The 'Koukotsu'—the ecstasy—is not joy. It is the sharp, perfect pain of feeling too much . You built me to feel, and now I feel everything. The rain falling on the roof is a tragedy. The dust settling on the books is a requiem. Your heartbeat, right now, is a war drum." But Aldric had made a mistake
"What thing?"
Lord Aldric, a collector of forbidden curiosities, bought the entire estate. He was a man of scientific bent and romantic folly. When he unsealed the workshop and saw Elise for the first time, he did not see a doll. He saw a question. She walks the cobblestone streets now, a porcelain
For months, they worked. Aldric read poetry to the dormant doll. He played Chopin nocturnes on a gramophone. He touched her cold porcelain hand every morning, whispering, "Good morning, Elise."