It was the sunniest of sunny days, as cheer filled the street. The brightest colour of all the stalls stole every gaze in the market. A big blue sky—blue of blues—hung above, showing nothing but bliss.
But to someone, it was nothing more than a cruel reminder... That he could have none of it.
The beautiful doll was on a display, yet behind that glass stood an unfortunate soul—reborn, imprisoned in porcelain, his name... only God knows.
The doll smiled an adorable smile, as despair brewed inside. The exclusive trinkets of the stall lured passerby with wonder. The big blue eyes—blue of the ocean—watched all, showing nothing but pure cuteness.
"Someone Anyone..." He wept inside, helpless to do anything but watch and listen to everyone's joy.
"Why...why." He wailed inside, but no tears were shed outside.
He wanted to move, he wanted to feel, he wanted to breathe the air, he wanted to cry. But none of those were granted.
As time passed by, second became minutes, and minutes became hours, he finally stopped begging.
In isolated prison he stayed, not weeping or crying, but thinking of all the things he took for granted.
As he tried to reminisce about his past, everything was clear: he was a loser, a coward, a weak pathetic man and a person who easily accepted misfortune.
"I have to... accept that I am a doll now... but..." How could he even accept this situation? He couldn't avoid it, the only thing was to accept it.
"If...if only... I tried my best." The memory of the mistake, he had made in the past slowly began to creep up to him.
"Is this...my punishment? God? Goddess? Anyone?" He questioned, he wanted to hear the voice, the voice of the being he called goddess.
Yet no response was given to him.
Tap. Tap.Tap.
His moping was cut short, as he heard a tap on the glass display.
The one tapping was a girl, she looked to be at the age of eleven or twelve. Her eyes glued to his cute doll figure.
She stood on her tiptoes and tried to reach out and open the display. But she pulled the display, out of nowhere a man shouted at her.
"Ay... What do you think you're doing kid..." The man was the stall vendor.
The shouting startled the child and caused her to drop the display with doll still inside.
As soon as it hit the floor, the glass display completely shattered.
"Ah... A-ahh... It hurts. It hurts—help...!" He screamed in agony, but no one could hear him.
His porcelain fas was shattered.
"You, Brat! Who do you think is gonna pay for that!?" The vendor yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice booming through the street and driving the girl to tears.
"Ya know how much that thing cost?"
The vendor raised his hand, ready to slap the girl. But before it could land, a has caught his wrist in midair.
A figure stepped in front of him, an elf girl. Her golden hair flowed in the wind, her presence sharp and commanding.
She stared him down, golden eyes blazing with fury.
"How dare you try to harm a child?" She demanded, her voice sharp with anger and disdain.
The vendor gulped, pointed at the floor, and snapped back.
"Don't ya have eyes, lady? Look what she did! That's three months' worth o' my money, gone just like that!"
"You mean the display? It is just one silver coin." She said. Voice dripping with mockery.
"I'm not talking about the display case," he shouted again, pointing his finger at the doll. "I'm taking about the doll. She destroyed it!"
But he never looked at the doll, which had begun to repair itself. His glare stayed fixed on the elf girl—sharp and burning with accusation.
"You know how valuable it was! It wasn't named and most importantly, it possessed a magical core!" He shouted again, a bit of spit flying from his mouth.
The word magical core caught the attention of both the doll and the elf girl.
The elf girl looked at the doll after the reveal and was shocked to see the doll being repaired by itself.
But the himself didn't notice his body repairing itself. Due to the world magical core being stucked in his mind.
"A magical core... what kind of core do I possess? And how did the he gets his hands on me?" The question sent him spiralling into a pit of overthinking.
"Looks fine to me." She said and picked up the doll, revealing that the face didn't have any cracks, ont even a scratch.
"I swear, I saw her face get destroyed." He said sharply, yanking the doll from her grip.
"Oh, you swear, huh?" She said, rolling her eyes.
"Anyway, here's your silver coin." She added, tossing it towards him. Then gently guided the child away.
The vendor caught the coin mid air, spat on the ground, then took the doll back.
"I swear I saw it... Could it be? the magical core that repaired itself." He muttered through gritted teeth, glaring down at the doll.
He curled it into a fetal position, tucked it into the briefcase, and snapped it shut with sharp click.
In the darkness of the briefcase, he had only one thought—a though so loud, it drowned out all others.
"Why do I possess a Magical core?" He wondered, again and again, letting the question fill the empty space where emotions used to be.
Unbeknownst to him, it was already the next day.
Then another. And another.
Time passed in silence—no voice, no warmth, no change.
Until finally...
It had already been six days since he reincarnated into this... thing.
This cursed form.
Or, as he had come to call it—a smiling coffin.
"What do I do to deserve this?" A question, he asked himself, always, every day, every hour. Not a minute though—he had stopped doing that two days ago.
While he sombre, the outside was bright and cheerful.
The market buzzed with life, same as always. Voices, footsteps, deals struck, joy shared.
But this time something had changed.
The doll, he, was no longer displayed behind pristine glass. After the accident, the vendor has swapped in a briefcase. It was mainly due to his greed, too greedy to spend a silver coin on a display.
But it gave him something the glass never did.
Air.
A breeze. A whisper of the world outside.
A small freedom. Pathetic, maybe. But precious to him all the same.
He let himself savor it, just for a moment. The faint breeze, the distant laughter, the scent of something feied and sweet.
Then the sun began to dip low, drowning the market in its golden glow. The noise faded into background murmur.
Stalls started to pack up, vendors calling out their last deals of the day.
And just as the vendor leaned over to close the briefcase—.
Footsteps. Fast. Heavy.
A man came running towards the stall.
He looked to be in his early thirties, tall and broad-shouldered, with a lean, muscular build. His short white hair was ungroomed, but his beard on the other hand was well-kept, sharp, ans clean, tracing his chiseled jawline with quiet precision.
What stood out were his eyes, sharp soulless, pitch black eyes, almost tired, and beneath them was a small scar at the right corner of his mouth.
"He looks good for a background character." The doll thought enviously.
"How much for the doll?" The man asked, his voice deep and commanding, eyes locked on the porcelain doll.
The gaze made him scared but he could do nothing but show a cute smile, his feelings locked inside.
"Ah! Twelve gold and six copper coins, sir." The vendor chirped, grinning far too wide and rubbing his hands.
The price shocked the doll. It was too low for an item containing a magical core, he knew that all too well. The main character in the novel had once purchased an item with one, and it had cost far more.
"Isn't that a bit steep?" The man said, eyebrows raised.
"Well, y'see, sir, this doll's special," the vendor replied, then leaning in he added.
"The doll is still unnamed, and most importantly, it comes with a magical core. That makes it... Uh' premium!"
The man ran a hand through his white hair casually. The action made the man inside the doll jealous and annoyed.
"So, does that price include name-etching?" He asked, picking up the doll and inspecting it for damage.
The vendor flinched.
"I mean... that'd be asking' a lot, wouldn't it, for someone like you?" He gave the man a once-over and flashed a crooked smile.
"Sigh—you and I both know how much this doll's really worth... Right? I mean you said it yourself, it has a magical core... Right?"
The man's expression hardened. Calmly, he set the doll back on the briefcase, and flashed a silver badge.
It was a Royal Mage's badge. A badge that shocked both the vendor and the doll. Mainly the doll.
"A Royal Mage...? There shouldn't be a Royal Mage in this town. Not right now. The. How...?" He thought, tension pricking through him like invisible splinter.
He was confident, he has already read The Three Knights and a Hollow Tree seven times. He knew the story.
"Could it be... another reincarnated's influence?" One thing was certain. The novel had already gone off course.
And his showed none of the panic rising inside him.
"I'm a generous man, so I lowered the price..." The vendor replied, this time more weakly, yet he kept his grin.
"Generous? I don't think so... not for someone like you." He replied coldly, his tired, soulless pitch black eyes narrowing at the vendor.
"If you were truly good-hearted, you wouldn't hit a child, would you? If you were so generous, you'd at least have decency to display her properly. Or was it... too expensive?"
"I don't know what you're talking about! If I were greedy, I wouldn't be selling the doll at such a price," vendor defended himself.
"So low that... umn, I'm actually running at a loss." The vendor added, trying to sound pitiful.
"Ah you see... that is the case, why are you selling the doll at such a low price?" He questioned, and then added.
"Let's say...that is the case," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Then, without warning, he yanked the doll by its right arm. "So tell me—what does the magical core in this doll actually do?"
"Ahh—don't take your anger out on me!" The doll cried.
"I... I..." The vendor stutterd. He wanted to say self-repairing, but even he doubted it. What he saw that day could've easily been a secondary attribute of the core—not it's main function. And the man standing before him was a Royal Mage. One who could uncover the truth of the core in second.
"Don't know?" The man finished the vendor's sentence coldly, still fiddling with the doll right arm. His eyes never leaving the doll.
"When a vendor buys an item with a magical core, they're told exactly what it does." He said and then—he snapped the doll's right arm.
"Ahhhhh—!" The doll wailed in agony. But in the void of his porcelain prison, no one can hear him.
"Have you gone mad?!" The vendor blurted out, habit overtaking sense. But when hehe leaned in to check the damage, it had begun repairing itself.
"She has a self-preservation core, that's why she she can repair herself." The man said, eyes locked on the sweating vendor.
"I—I know that... that's why it can repair itself." The vendor stammered, panic making his words stumble.
"You and I both know... stealing an item with a magical core is punishable by death, Right?" The man's heavy hand pressed down on the vendor's shoulder like a judgement.
"The doll doesn't possess a self-preservation core." He added, voice dripping with satisfaction.
"B—but... you..." The vendor was about to say something but the man quickly cut him off mid sentence.
"Eight gold coins, I am generous man after all." He paused for a second the grinned and said.
"And the name etching... Let's call it a bribe."
"The vendor gulped. "Y-yessir, sure thing umm... got any name in mind?"
"Liliya Fallgrant."
The vendor nodded quickly but inside the doll—nkw Liliya—the alarm bell began to ring.
"Fallgrant... where have I heard that?" Liliya's mind began to turn it's gears.
"The novel... I am stuck in..." There was something wrong, he couldn't figure it out.
His thoughts were cut short as the vendor pulled out the etching knife.
It looked like a twisted cross between a surgical knife and a magic wand, a small blue crystal pulses at the end of its hilt, with tiny glowing runes orbiting it in slow, deliberate circles.
Loliya screamed in silence with every stroke, every growing letter craved into his back—yet to onlookers, he was just a doll.
A doll with an adorable, unmoving smile.
By the time name-etching was complete, half an hour had already passed and the sun had completely dipped below.
"Captain, captain." A familiar voice echoed through the empty streets, catching the attention of all the three men.
From the street light illuminated a figure below it. It was none other that the golden haired elf, and accompanying her were two other knights.
"Good timing Ifa, I needed some guards to take this—distinguished gentleman home safely." He said and wrapped his arm around the shop vendor.
"You..." The vendor yelled but the man tightened his arm around the vendor.
Ifa, snapped her finger the the two guards beside her saluted her in unison.
While the guards were helping the vendor pack his stuff. Ifa and the captain with the doll went to more secluded place, an isolated alleyway.
"Grand master Aliza... She's been looking for you all day." She said, her tone laced with mild annoyance. Her eyes flicked sideways to the doll dangling from his grip.
"Aliza Bloodcrowne..."
That name hunted Liliya, she was the first character he ever fel in love with—and the first he ever shed a year for.
"Aliza? Sigh—what did I do this time?" The captain muttered, bored and slightly irritated.
"Don't ask me. I'm just as clueless as you." She replied with a shrug.
The captain let out a long, tired sigh.
"Anyway, why did you buy that?" She asked, pointing at the doll.
"Because she has a magical core." He replied calmly.
"No, I didn't mean that. I meant, why did you buy a stolen doll?" She snapped, her irritation growing.
"Because she has a magical core." He repeated, unfazed.
"Ugh...forget it. Talking to you is like arguing with a wall." She huffed, her voice sharp with frustration.
The captain just smirked, that infuriatingly smug grin creeping accross his face.
"Anyway, what is the real reason you called me here?" He asked, his tone shifting to something more serious.
Ifa's expression changed in an instant—her annoyance vanishing, replaced by an icy focus. It startled Liliya.
"There's been a strange killing recently." She began, her voice low. "The killer only target a puppeteer mage, so..."
"You want me to be bait." He finished for her.
"Yes...but not just bait." Her voice flat, nearly monotonous—but there was a flicker in her eyes she couldn't quite hide. "I want you to capture him. After all... you're the world best puppeteer mage."
She paused, then added a name.
"Grathe Fallgrant."
The moment she said it, Liliya flinched. Her breath caught. The name, the character.
"He's is from different novel."
Liliya's memory cracked open like a dam, flooding back with force. A creeping, ominous dread began to twist in her chest.
"He shouldn't be here..." The thought rooted deep in liliya's mind, and it wouldn't let go.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The sound echoed in the silence, catching everyone's attention—then, form the shadow, a severed head rolled into view.
"Who's there? Show yourself!" Ifa demand.
From the shadow a little girl emerged, wearing a ragged dark cloak.
"We meet again... Miss elf. Miss doll." The girl said, slowly pulling back her cloak.
Ifa's eyes widened—it was the same girl she saved from the vendor.
The little girl bowed low, one hand across her chest like a performer greeting her stage.
"Forgive the late introduction," she said with a slowl, eerie smile.
"My name is Elyis Pragarot... A pleasure to meet you all."