Prologue

I think I just got curious. Her summoning spell was so poorly done—so poorly, to be honest, that it didn’t even possess the danger of calling something that you certainly didn’t want to by mistake. Yet she didn’t give up, and every failure fuelled yet another attempt that was bound to disappoint.

I watched her for months as she tried to bring life into a human-sized doll she had carved from cherry wood and dressed in a simple blue dress. She called it Mia, and each failed attempt to breathe life into it led to another night of quiet weeping. Yet no matter how long she lay awake, by morning, she was ready to try again.

I started to admire her determination—not enough to help her in any significant way, but enough to stay and watch. It was rare for a mortal to dedicate so much effort to something that, even if successful, wouldn’t give her the money, power or any other trivial reward that most of them sought when exploring the magical arts.

She was different, so maybe that’s why I stayed for so long and watched her poor efforts, one after another.

In the end, I learned that her name was Alena. It took me a while to do so, as she lived alone and rarely left her home. But when she ran out of ingredients for her spell and was forced to go to town looking for them, I overheard the shop owner greeting her.

It felt better to learn it this way, rather than forcing it out of her mind against her will. I suppose that after spending so much time watching her, I had become attached to her and didn’t want to cause her any harm.

She still seemed young, at least for a half-elf. Yet her eyes spoke of someone who had seen the younger generation come to pass, while still being denied the oblivion of death she so dearly wished for.

I watched as she continued to cast another spell and then cried when it didn’t work. I was pretty sure she didn’t try to bring back the spirit of someone who had died, so what did she try to do?

I began to study her spell more carefully then, hoping I would find an answer to it, but after a few days, I gave up as it didn’t give me any clues about her intention. It was a simple voodoo charm mixed with the elemental magic that came with her elvish blood. Nothing special to be honest, so why did she try so hard to cast it? What was the point of summoning a spirit and binding it to this doll anyway?

                                     —-------------------------------------

She collapsed on her bed and burst into tears.

“It didn’t work”, she whispered quietly and buried her face in the pillow.

The room was cold, but she didn’t bother to turn on the stove or even cover herself with a blanket. It made me sad seeing her like this, and I watched her until she finally fell asleep.

She woke up the next morning and dragged herself from the bed, looking particularly rough and tired. I followed her through the morning, observing her curiously. Never before had I paid any attention to what she did if it wasn’t related to her spell. However, not finding any answers there, I had decided to follow her throughout the day, hoping to discover why she was so intent on it.

Her morning was quite mundane and no different from what I had expected it to be. She ate her breakfast without paying any attention to it and had a quick shower before locking herself in the library, studying books I was sure would not help her with her task.

Her mistakes were so obvious that spending her time reading volumes that were written in a time when every letter was carefully drawn by hand was a waste of time.

It only gave her a headache and left her disheartened. I was almost tempted to tell her that summoning anything willing to come in the first place was a waste of time, and she just needed to be more specific, but in the end, I didn’t.

If she really wanted this spell to work, she had plenty of opportunities to ask someone for help; there was no need for divine intervention to teach her the basics. Yet, why she had made such a simple mistake without realising it only fuelled my curiosity further.

I followed her to the basement, where she kept Mia, only to witness yet another failure and the tears that followed it. Still, after spending the whole day observing her, I was no closer to understanding why she tried to bind a spirit to it.

I started getting frustrated, and seeing her cry again made me sad. She deserved better than this. On an impulse, I answered her summons and merged myself with Mia.