Dolls

were delicate, with a slender, heart shaped structure and a pointed nose that would have looked sharp on an older woman. Her mouth, set above a softly pointed chin, was small but prominent with a natural looking red shade. No human had ever had eyes like this Doll did. They appeared at first glance to be a warm shade of light brown, but they were not. Instead they were collages of colour. Streaks of gold lay atop splashes of purple and red, and flecks of brown and blue lost themselves in the fray. No two streaks or veins of colour were the same shade, and they lay together to form into eyes of stained glass. They would seem perfectly normal from afar, but in the most beautiful way, were far from it. The most disturbing thing about her eyes, to Morgan at least, was that inside those beautiful and perfectly clear eyes was instant recognition.

  The Doll stepped forward. She wore the mask on her well, but though she looked like a little girl she held herself a little too still, too rigidly. She watched a little too closely.

  “It is a pleasure to truly see you Morgan.” She spoke with a voice that was small like a young girls, but clear and confident with a melodic quality to it. “I am Ophelia.”

  After a completely inappropriate amount of time Morgan stuttered out an unsure greeting. “I am, uh, I am pleased to meet you... Ophelia.”

  “Arthur, what is going on here?” He asked, unable to take his eyes from the Doll.

  The Dollmaker was grinning from the corner. “Well after you recovered the diamond, the spirit inside seemed to have taken a shine to you. At least as far as I can tell, it isn't an exact science.” He came over to put a hand on Ophelia's shoulder. “It changed how she felt to me, which is why I had to re-carve the face, though the basic form and the eyes were still good which was a relief. I paid Marcus a fortune for those eyes.”

  Morgan barely registered that Marcus was one of the Craftsmen he knew.

  Arthur looked Ophelia over like a man appreciating a fine painting. “Some of my finest work if I do say so myself.”

  “What did you mean my Doll.” Morgan asked ignoring the mans preamble.

  “What?” Arthur broke out of his work stupor. “Oh it didn't feel right to animate her bound to me. Not when she obviously already had a preference for you. I will be staying here for a while so I will keep the heart and help you two out, but she is your Doll.”

  Morgan didn't know what to say, or do, or think. The room started spinning and he found the bed without asking, grabbing onto the foot board for stability. He gave serious consideration to throwing up this time.

  Then a small, firm hand was on his shoulder steadying him. Morgan looked up into the most hazel eyes in the world.

  “It's alright Morgan. I look forward to learning from and working with you. I am here for you”

  Author's Notes

  I would like to thank you for downloading and reading my book. This is my first completed work of fiction, I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you did reading it. There is more to come for Morgan and Ophelia in the future and I hope you will support me by continuing to enjoy and purchase these stories. I have many more projects on the way, most of them taking the form of much longer stories in a variety of styles and genres. I hope that if you enjoyed this story you will do me the highest honour a reader can give and recommend me to your friends.

  The author Simon Ericson is a Canadian by birth, who loves reading, martial arts, running and most of all his family. If you have any comments or questions please feel free to contact me on twitter at @EricsonsStories. I am also on Linkedin, and Facebook as Simon Ericson.