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Turning to the Autumn Forest's clearing, she rushed towards the girl who was standing at its centre; she was already holding the bright blue sphere in her hands, its blue light making the bags under her eyes from days of lost sleep stand out.
"Fuse me to the Earth."
She tried to convince Dolly to stay. Tried to convince herself that they would meet again.
"Becoming a Guardian doesn't mean I'll die."
She yelled at her. Told her that would be worse. Fated to a forever-nonexistence, eternal loneliness, all until her usefulness was up, don't go, don't leave me, Dolly, don't leave—
"Farewell."
She fought down the tears as she locked eyes with the girl for what would be the last time in who knows how long, forcing her voice out and making sure it didn't shake.
"Forever. I'll always be waiting. I'll be right beside you, Dolly."
.
.
.
Feeling the warm remnants of the etherlink magic dissipate into the air, Pico crumpled down at Dolly's side until she had sunk halfway into the ground. Maybe she could have done something different. It had been Dolly's choice, but Pico wondered if she could have her time as a ghost back then to search for a way to help Ven. Maybe then Dolly wouldn't have had to make the choice in the first place. Of course, Pico hadn't known about Ven's problem back then, and still didn't have the smallest idea of what would help her, so even if she could go back there was nothing she could do.
Pulling herself out of the ground, Pico sat by Dolly's sleeping figure. She brushed a stray red leaf out of the girl's long hair. She would not think about the past with regret, lest she turn into a more dangerous spirit that only sought revenge. She couldn't do that. She couldn't do that and leave Dolly alone.
Instead, Pico would think about what she could do now.
Ven's weakness had caught up to her too quickly for any preparations; Dolly had simply curled up on the straw-coloured grass of the Autumn Forest's clearing.
She could barely even think about the dragon without starting to feel the darkness clouding her spirit.
How could she? How could she have taken away Dolly?
Pico slapped the sides of her face. No, she wasn't doing this. Not now. She had also wanted to help Ven, and would have done the same if she was in Dolly's place. Even if part of her hurt, thinking about how Dolly had chosen everyone else over her own happiness, had chosen to sacrifice her daily existence for Ven and the townspeople...
...Even if another part of Pico, however small, hurt, thinking about how Dolly had chosen everyone else over her.
Another slap, this time harder.
Shut it!
Dolly had made her choice, and now so would Pico. She would keep her sleeping Dolly as comfortable as possible until she woke up again. She tore her eyes away from her selfless, selfless little Dolly, and looked around. Spotting the forgotten axe at the edge of the clearing and the forest of trees surrounding them, Pico huffed slightly, a small smile crawling its way onto her face at the idea of helping Dolly once more, even if the girl wouldn't know it for a while yet.
The townsfolk weren't allowed to visit Dolly. Ven even had the bridges to the field in which she was sleeping destroyed. Of course, the decision made sense, from both the not-quite-true reason Ven gave—It's to protect the villagers from the dangerous monsters that lurk, and to keep any who would harm Dolce away—and from the true reason Pico had realised a few years after Dolly fell asleep—Her parents, her childhood acquaintances…they would not be able to handle seeing her as she is now. Cold, untouched, ageless. Leaving them behind.
Even the monsters were kept mostly at bay by Pico's spiritual power and the ward in the charm Ven had given Dolly before she had left Selphia.
So, Pico was the only other being around the sleeping girl. Pico would not let her Dolly spend her time sleeping on the floor. When she woke up—and she would wake up—Dolly would wake like a queen.
There was very little a ghost could do to impact the world of the living; Pico wasn't exactly new to being dead, she knew this very well. She knew she wasn't as powerful as some of the other spirits she had seen in her time. But, she could, at the very least, will things to move with her power. And will them she would. Will them she had to.
Dolly had always yearned for a huge, dark-wood mansion; one filled with beautiful furniture and dozens of large, carpeted rooms.
So, tree by tree, board by board, nail by shaped-from-nearby-ore nail, Pico somehow managed to build something. Of course, there was no beautiful furniture, and she didn't have carpet to work with, but there was a two storied mansion in front of her when she was done.
How long have I even been building for? A year? Two?
(Of course, looking around at how much the trees around them had grown, Pico knew it had been much longer. But she didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to think about how little Dolly would have left when she woke up. She didn't want to accept that with every room built, the time Dolly was spending in the darkness was growing, year by year.
Decade by decade.)
Slowly, carefully. Making sure she remained free of scuffs or scratches. Avoiding long grass that would tangle her hair. Moving Dolly's body was a trial, but, after some time, Pico had maneuvered her from the edge of the field next to the mansion to a room near the back. Now she lay on a makeshift bed made of scraps of cloth and fur Pico had collected from some of the monsters she had defeated when they had gotten too close to the mansion.
Not quite the four-post princess-style bed Dolly had mentioned at some point, but…
Well, a queen is a queen even if she doesn't sleep on a bed of roses, Pico thought to herself as she looked on at the girl in front of her, still beautiful even in her sleep.
Year after watchful year passed by. For what felt like a decade or so of talking to Dolly about anything she could think of, sweeping the floors, and fighting off any monsters that tried to crawl their way in, there was peace.
Until...one day...
...there wasn't.
Pico looked on in horror as a group of people entered the building, carrying furniture with them, each setting up a corner of the mansion. Dolly was in a hidden room near the back—anyone who stumbled into the mansion wouldn't find her, Pico had made sure—but that didn't stop Pico from worrying.
Someone was...moving in?
During the hours in which the new faces spent moving around the furniture (clearly being careful in doing so, trying not to scratch the floor, Pico noticed with a small spike of pride) Pico sat still beside the entry to Dolly's room.
This was not something she had ever considered. Pico didn't know what to think. As a group of people carefully carried a four-post bed carved from a beautiful dark wood, Pico's worrying ceased slightly.
As long as Dolly is safe…maybe this won't be so bad.
Indeed, it was not so bad; at least not in the beginning.
Apparently the people moving the furniture in were just temporary guests; the man lived alone. He lived a fairly quiet life, playing instruments and collecting things like paintings and books. When he first moved in, Pico thought they could coexist; the man, quietly sewing his toy monsters to give to the children in the village, and Pico, quietly caring over Dolly in her sleep.
It truly wasn't so bad—until he found her.
Of course, Pico wasn't stupid. She had locked the door to the room, and the man had simply found the door, trying to open it before walking away, muttering to himself that he needed to get a key made. But finding a locked door that there was no key for in your own home? That would pique anyone's curiosity.
She started small. She didn't want to overreact and cause too much damage to anyone, let alone Dolly, so she started by brushing against the man sometimes while he had his guard down. A shiver while reading. A cold chill during his long sessions of composing music. If he was too busy being nervous all the time, he'd just forget about the key, right?
Wrong, apparently. A few days later, a loud knocking sound snapped Pico out of her daydreaming state. After the sound of a brief conversation in the foyer, two sets of footsteps echoed down the hall towards Pico.
Towards Dolly.
Pico watched from the shadows as the visitor took measurements of the door, most likely preparation for making a key. At least the man and his visitor were not attempting to damage the door.
Pico's small haunting efforts had done nothing. Making sure her repelling strength was still focused on Dolly's room, she lessened her hold on the rest of the mansion.
It was not long before the monsters and spirits overran the house, and the man along with it.
.
.
.
Had the man meant to hurt Dolly? Even if he had gotten into her room, would he have done anything?
Pico looked down at the soft toy in her arms and up at the bed on which Dolly was now sleeping on. She thought back to the care the man had taken to not damage the house.
Probably not.
But was there a chance he would? Even the smallest possibility?
Yes.
And that was enough, for Dolly's sake.
All for Dolly. I would even—
"Mom…Dad…?"
Pico shot up from where she had been sitting beside the bed. Stuffed wooly thrown to the ground, she scrambled up onto the mattress, following the voice.
"Dolly?! You're awake?" Pico's voice was trembling when she replied, taking in what she was seeing. Dolly, awake, in front of her. After all this time, she was here!
Except… something didn't feel right. Her eyes were open wide, but they were unfocused. She was sitting up, but her slender limbs moved languidly, as if—
"Pico?"
As if a bolt of lightning struck her, Pico froze in place. Her name. For the first time in years and years and years, Pico heard Dolly say her name.
Dolly acting weird had been her imagination. Of course she was drowsy; she had just woken up for the first time in decades! Pico felt tears in her eyes as she moved to sit in Dolly's lap, cradling her face between her hands. Normally Dolly didn't like it when the ghost girl came too close (Pico did have to admit, she had a point there; being a ghost had its downsides, and being a bit cold to the touch one of them) but Pico was sure she wouldn't mind this once. Not when Pico had waited for this moment for so long!
But...why was she waking up now, of all times? Did someone work out how to restore the Runes completely? Pico was sure she hadn't heard anything like that from the ghosts that came to visit every once in a while. Was something wrong?
Nothing was wrong. Pico resisted the urge to slap the thoughts out of her brain. Didn't matter how—Dolly had woken up! Just because she hadn't heard any news, doesn't mean there wasn't any. She might have missed something while she was busy making sure the then-sleeping ("then-sleeping"! She was awake now!) girl was comfortable. Pico rested her forehead against Dolly's. Ghosts didn't need to breathe, but perhaps as a remnant of her human habits, a shaky and near-reverent sigh left Pico's lips.
"I'm right here, Dolly," she whispered, excitement building with every word, "I've been waiting here for so long now!"
She placed her hands on Dolly's cheeks softly, laughing. Dolly would definitely not find the cold breath hitting her face pleasant, but Pico wouldn't even mind being reprimanded; even Dolly's usual secretly-warm insults would just be another reminder that the long, lonely, years of wait were now over.
"—So long, but I haven't left your side, just like I promised! Actually, I—"
"Pico? Are you there? You said you'd be right beside me."
Pico froze.
Dolly was still staring straight ahead, her arms still grasping at the air between them, stopping just short of Pico. The girl in front of her…
... She didn't seem to be truly awake.
If she still had the need to breathe, Pico wasn't sure she would be able to. The warm tightness in her chest took on a sharp, cold bite as Dolly's words hit her ears. Pico opened her mouth to reply, but she couldn't get the words past the lump in her throat. Would Dolly even be able to hear me?
"Pico…you promised…"
Pico flinched at the words.
"Why am I all alone now?" Dolly's hands clenched at the fabric of her dress where it covered her heart. "Why is it so cold?"
Pico immediately jerked away from where she was cradling Dolly's face and backed away until she was sitting on top of the blankets at the girl's feet. Was she the one making her cold? Could Dolly somehow still feel her despite not seeing her? Pico stayed completely still and quiet. She wanted to comfort her Dolly, but she didn't know how. She didn't want to make her more uncomfortable, and if she was making her feel worse, she would just have to force herself to stay away.
But if I'm not the reason she's feeling cold…
Pico didn't know what to do.
A flash of what seemed to be confusion flashed through the purple eyes Pico hadn't dared blink away from. Dolly's hands, grasping her chest, tightened their grip until the colour drained from the already-pale skin.
"Pico…I'm so cold…has it been forever already? Is that why…"
Tears had started to run down Dolly's face.
"...Is that why you're not here anymore?"
Pico snapped out of her stupor, forgetting the cold Dolly felt, urgent need to comfort the girl overpowering anything else. Grabbing Dolly's hands and holding them between her own, Pico urged words of comfort to come to her. Before she could say anything, however, she froze.
The hands she was holding...they didn't feel quite right.
She forced herself to look down at what she was holding.
Ball joints. Hard. Off-white.
She wasn't holding Dolly's hands anymore.
The porcelain she was holding moved. It slipped out of Pico's grip and surrounded her shaking hands. Now Pico was the one enveloped in cold. She forced herself to look back at Dolly's face.
Her hair, still in her favoured twin-tailed style, was rapidly fraying and turning white; with every passing second, it looked more and more like straw. The eyes that had once been full of life, that had once warmed Pico's heart, that had once been closed for longer than they had been open...both were now glowing with a dim, yellow light, all other colours sapped away.
Even with every major change to the face in front of her, one thing stood out most to Pico. One thing made her feel as if the non-existent blood in her body was turning cold.
Dolly's mouth was upturned in a broken imitation of a smile.
A giggle bubbled out of Dolly's mouth. First, it was small, but it grew and grew until the hands around Pico's pulled away, covering Dolly's face as she threw her head back in laughter. Pico couldn't move. She wanted to back away and run from the room just as much as she wanted to try to comfort the not-quite-girl in front of her.
Until Dolly's laughter stopped, Pico stared on in quiet horror. Horror that only grew as the ball-jointed, hard, off-white, doll-like hands fell back to Dolly's lap. Where Dolly's face had once been…
Pico wiped the tears out of her eyes before taking Dolly's hands in her own again. She ignored the lack of warmth and softness in them, instead focusing on trying to find any trace of recognition in the face in front of her. Even the smallest spark of awareness would do.
There was nothing. The glowing eyes, now just holes in dark fabric haphazardly stitched together...in them was nothing but grief.
Thinking back years and decades and nearly a century, this was how they had met. Hand in hand. Except the confusion in Dolly's eyes back then had been something closer to wonder, moreso surprise at seeing someone floating unaided above her cradle. In Dolly's eyes now was something much lonelier. Something that cried 'betrayal'. Wouldn't it be some cruel joke, Pico thought, if this was how we parted?
No. This would not be goodbye. She would not lose her like this. There was talk in town—Pico had heard the excited cries of villagers, carried even across the wide, once-bridged gap, shouting about monsters turning into humans. Something about the new farmer…
But...what if leaving would destroy what small amount of Dolly there was left in the marionette? Would leaving save her, or would Pico be throwing away what little time she had left with her?
Keep her company and lose her forever?
Or, break the promise she had made? Leave her, and, if anything goes wrong, still lose her forever?
She physically shook her head to clear the thoughts from her mind.
There was a chance to see her Dolly again. To see her pout, to see her blush. To see her smile, for real. And Pico would take it. Even if the laughter coming from the once-girl in front of her rang hollow, and her groans filled the air with pure loneliness, there was still enough 'Dolly' in there that Pico knew she had to take that chance. The doll-arms, reaching out, grasping around for whatever warmth they could find, as if they knew something was wrong, something was missing.
Pico sniffed, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Forever…I'll be right beside you."
She wiped her eyes, pulling herself away from Dolly, and backed away toward the door of the room. Steeling herself, Pico forced herself to turn around and back out of the room. It took all she had to ignore the grating noises of confused anguish mixed discordantly with childish laughter behind her.
Forcing her gaze forward, she clenched her jaw. She had to focus on the present. To town. To that farmer. Away from Dolly, but only for now.
Pico pressed forward, out of the room, out of the hall, out to the foyer, ignoring the beckoning calls behind her that turned more cold and cruel with every moment.
It has not been forever yet, Pico, it laughed out, sing-song, the tone everything Dolly was not. Are you not going to stay?
Pico burst out of the front door of the mansion, the feeling of fresh air hitting her for the first time in tens of years. Taking one final look back, Pico wiped the rain and tears off her face.
I'm sorry, milady. I have to break our promise.