Heart of a doll

A voice echoed softly in the vast darkness, ethereal yet warm.

"My child, I ask you again... do you truly wish to be one of them?"

In the boundless void, a celestial god cradled a tiny doll in its glowing hands. The doll, delicate and fragile, floated with an elegance that belied its size. The god looked down at it, studying this small creation with an intensity only gods could possess.

"Your wish is my command," the god murmured, its voice resonant with power and wisdom. "But remember—this is a gift, not a curse. It is your wish, not mine."

The god's hand lowered, and in a moment, the scene changed. A picturesque town came into view, bathed in golden sunlight. Laughter echoed through the streets as families gathered, sharing food and joy. Children played, their laughter ringing with pure happiness. Everything was bright, hopeful—like a dream.

But the vision shifted, growing dark. The lively town began to twist, becoming something twisted and cruel. Drunkards stumbled through the streets, and dark figures lurked in the shadows. A body lay still on the ground, ignored as people passed by. Voices slurred with anger and greed filled the air, which now felt thick with an unseen evil. This was not the happiness of her dreams but something more sinister—a reality far removed from innocence.

"When you open your eyes," the god's voice continued, "you will realize this is not the happy reality you thought. But a new one. More evil. More cruel."

From the darkness, a small light began to glow—a pure white orb, like a soul that had just been born, bright and innocent amidst the shadows. This light, this soul, was never meant to exist.

The vision softened again, this time showing the doll—a doll with unmoving limbs and an empty gaze—held in the hands of a laughing child. The child made her dance, her laughter echoing in the cozy, toy-filled room. But for the doll, there was no joy. No movement of her own. Always in the hands of others, she could only go where she was placed, do what she was made to do.

She was never her own.

Time passed, and the doll sat abandoned in a box with other forgotten toys. Dust hung in the air, settling on her delicate form. The child had moved on, leaving her lonely, gathering dust alongside memories no one cared to keep.

More time passed. The doll found herself in a store, sitting lifelessly among other dolls. Despite her painted-on expression, unseen tears seemed to fall from her unchanging face, a silent expression of sorrow that only a divine eye could perceive.

And she despaired, believing her suffering would never end.

Until one day, "It" heard her—the god she had unknowingly called to through her sorrow.

The god appeared in a dark, magical space filled with shimmering particles of light. It looked upon her small, glowing soul with something akin to pity. "I will make you human," it said softly, "even though I know it will ruin you. I hope you won't resent me for this. So, let me grant you a second wish. Tell me, what is it that you want?"

The light in the god's hands shifted, and the doll was now a small baby, innocent and fragile, floating within its grasp. The god looked down with a tenderness unknown to humankind.

"I have no other wish," she replied, her soul whispering the words. "Only to be human. But if you truly wish to grant me something more, please... give me a name that is my own. I promise, with that name, I will write history."

The god's voice resonated with gentle resolve. "...If that is all you want, then so it shall be." It paused, a small smile crossing its infinite expression. "Your name shall be... Riona."