VI

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Arc VI Chapter 6

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28th Ignis Lunar 753 AAC

Day turned night, and the time had arrived for her to sleep. No matter how counterintuitive it might have sounded and much to their both surprise, even an animated doll like her needed her daily healthy dose of sleep. Her body, less so, but her spirit certainly did.

Though her body was that of a doll, her spirit remained that of a girl, much to her joy. Her mind, her consciousness, her spirit tired the longer she remained awake. A fact that comforted her heart. Even though she might have lost her body, she had at least retained her spirit. She still felt. She still sensed. It was as if she was still alive. As if she still possessed a body made of flesh and blood, only replaced by mechanical joints and porcelain limbs.

Little Aurora gripped her portion of their shared blanket to tuck herself in. Aurora and Iris had already fallen sound asleep. So, it was safe for her to move now. Nobody would notice her. And even so, Aurora assured her that she would be able to convince Iris without much trouble that it was just a strange dream of hers, possibly a recurring one. Which sounded like a fairly credible and solid excuse to her.

Little Aurora unwinded, relaxing. Her drowsy eyelids closed, and the night quickly claimed her.

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Light bathed the chambers in all their grandeur, resplendent with intricate wood panelling adorned with decorative carvings, exuding an air of extravagant elegance. Venerable portraits of times long since passed lined the walls. Her ancestors were watching her, their ancient eyes judging her from within their ornate frames.

A tiled porcelain stove in the corner provided the chambers with warmth and a touch of comfort. A sofa draped in plush, velvet, and silk fabric decorated the room, its deep burgundy hue in perfect harmony with its dark wooden frame and gold leaf. The room breathed an air of luxury, of extravagance, and here little Aurora was once again.

Once again, in a world, in a time, in a reality, in a life that was not hers, with memories, thoughts, feelings, knowledge of a past that weren't her own, and a body that didn't belong to her. And yet she was here, once again, inhabiting her body like many nights before. Her soul experienced fragments of her past, remnants of her life. Past, present, future, all combined into one. At times, it was only a fraction of a moment. At times, a few minutes. At times, an hour, or more. Most of the time, nothing, at all.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Yet each time, she came to know more about her past. Each time, she came to understand more. Who she had been and was now. Where she came from. Why she was who she was. Now, such a night had come again. Her memories visited her, once more.

This world was a dream, a mere illusion, a figment of her imagination, shared by their soul, and yet all was so uncannily real. The light that stimulated her eyes. The air that filled her lungs. The warmth of the sun that tickled her skin. The scents that invaded her nostrils. The sounds that caressed her ears. These were all too real. This was not a mere dream. This was more.

Little Aurora opened her eyes. Before her stood a man, his boots planted on the soft carpet with the unwavering, iron discipline of a noble, of a soldier, of an officer. His figure was tall, domineering, uncompromising. His hair pitch black. Clad in dark grey, the man wore his uniform with ostentatious pride of unyielding loyalty, duty, and honour in the relentless pursuit of excellence. A pair of braided epaulettes covered his shoulders, golden arabesques on scarlet red flanked his collar, golden cords lined his chest. Two orders adorned his neck, two crosses of unfamiliar shape and meaning. One vibrant blue, the other iron black with a silver frame.

“...” The man folded his hands, his eyes falling on her. His cold, calculating gaze bothered her. His deep purple eyes scrutinised her with the intensity of a storied past, and yet they brightened at her mere sight with a sense of pure happiness. Contrary to her expectations, the man smiled, at her no less, with a sense of profound gentleness that completely belied his stern appearance.

It was a man who she had never seen before in her life, never known before, and yet she recognised him in an instant with the weight and experience of a lifetime. It was none other than her ..., than her father. Duke August von Schwarz, patriarch of the noble House von Schwarz, Imperial Archmage, Imperial Field Marshall, Hero of the Reich, Victor of Gorliz Tarnau, and last, but not least, father of two sons, and a cute daughter.

“♫ ♪♩♪ ♫ ♬ ♩♫~. ♫ ♪♩♪ ♫ ♬ ♩♫~. ♫ ♪♩♪ ♫ ♬ ♩♫~.” Aurora's tender voice hummed, and her feet dangled in the air with her open books in her hands.

The chambers were her father's office, and she was currently sitting right in the middle, on the sofa. It was a joyous moment. Her father was teaching her personally from time to time despite the limited time at his disposal. He monitored her progress and her studies ever since she had been assigned her tutors recently. Today was such a day.

It was a rare privilege, a rare honour, even for a scion of the House von Schwarz, an honour her older brothers envied her for. He never did such for them. Her brothers envied her for the attention, for the care, for the time she enjoyed with her father. As did her mother. Her mother seemed to despise her for some unknown reasons. The look, the utter contempt in her eyes and in her every word. Her mother hated her, and she never understood as to why.

Her father didn't. Her father loved her. He doted upon her. He spoiled her. He cherished her. He protected her. She was Aurora von Schwarz, his daughter, and his pride, the pride of the House von Schwarz.

According to him, she had always been a special girl, far more special than others since the very day she was born. Her gifts ... Her talents ... Her abilities ... They were all special. Far above and beyond the plebeian rabble and the common nobles with delusions of grandeur. She was better than them, she was superior to them in all aspects. That was, at least, what Father said. Aurora believed him.

Duke August beamed at her. “Have you read what I asked you to, Aurora?”

Aurora nodded, a spark of joy and happiness filling her heart. “Yes, Father~, I have, although it was not much.”

Her father chuckled, amused. “That is fine, Aurora. It is not about how much you read, but rather about how much you comprehend. Better more of less, than nothing of more. Anyway, I hope that the chapter didn't bore you too much. It can prove to be rather ... old fashioned these days, rather ... dry, rather ... academic, in my experience. For understandable reasons.”

Aurora shook her head, denying any such possibility with her brightest smile. The contents were rather dry, but her father didn't need to know. “Not at all, Father.”

The Duke smiled. “I am most glad to hear so. Please, Aurora, commence.”

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