Zanoba's Dolls

Zanoba's workshop was at the end of the building reserved for special students, behind an inconspicuous wooden door at the corner of the hallway.

When he pushed the door open, the hinge creaked, but what lay beyond was another story entirely.

The room was large, at least twice the size of mine. Wooden shelves lined three walls, and they were packed with dolls.

I stood in the doorway and stared for several seconds.

The nearest row consisted of soldiers. Their armor was intricately carved, down to every rivet on the plates. Farther in were female dolls wearing dresses of various styles, some elaborate and others plain. In the very corner stood several monster dolls, baring their fangs and claws, and they were well made too.

But they all had one problem.

I stepped closer for a look. The soldier dolls wore smiles, but those smiles looked as though they had been drawn with a ruler. The curves at the corners of their mouths were perfectly symmetrical, and their eyes stared straight ahead. The female dolls were the same: every one had the same face with a different hairstyle and dress, their features as though cast from a single mold.

"The craftsmanship really is good, but it feels like they're missing something."

"Master! Please, come in!" Zanoba stood in the middle of the room, rubbing his two large hands together. He was dressed more neatly than usual today, his academy robe buttoned all the way to the top and the golden royal crest on his chest polished to a shine.

"Is this where you usually spend your time?"

"Most of the time. Aside from classes and meals, I spend all my time here." He adjusted his round glasses. "Master, what do you think?"

I walked around the room, and the more I saw, the more of a shame it seemed. The skeletons were solidly made, the fabrics for the clothes had been carefully chosen, and he had clearly put a great deal of effort into his painting skills. But the faces and joints...

"Zanoba, take a doll down and let me have a look."

He carefully took a female doll in a long blue dress down from a shelf. He really was careful: those large hands of his, capable of crushing stone, held it steadily as he placed it on the table.

I picked it up and examined it. The folds in the dress were very well done, and the fabric draped just right, but when I turned it over, there was a crack where the shoulder blade would be.

"Did you crush it?"

Zanoba's face turned red. He lowered his head, his hair hiding half his face.

"I was born with great strength, so I'm no good at delicate work." His voice was muffled. "Whenever I apply force, I crush the materials. I spent a great deal of money hiring craftsmen, but none of them could meet my standards."

I put the doll down and looked at its joints. The elbows and knees were all simple hinges that could only bend back and forth, not rotate. The fingers were even simpler: five sticks nailed to the palm, incapable of making a fist or spreading open.

"There are two problems." I pointed at the doll's face and hands. "Look at this elbow joint. It can only bend back and forth, right? But human joints... how do I put it? They're ball-and-socket joints. A ball fits into a socket, so it can turn in any direction."

I moved my wrist around to show him.

"The face too. What you carved... well, the muscle structure is right. But it's too even. Give me a smile."

Zanoba blinked, then forced a smile.

"See? When you smile, the left corner of your mouth is higher than the right. Here," I said, pointing to my own face, "and between the eyebrows, too. When you frown, two vertical lines appear. A living person's face isn't symmetrical."

Zanoba's mouth hung open for a long time.

"Master... you, you know about these things?"

"A little, a little."

"Then... then can you make them?!" His voice shot up an octave. He planted both hands on the table, and it creaked. "Ball-and-socket joints! Asymmetrical faces! Can you make them?!"

"Calm down."

He quickly pulled his hands back and sat down properly, but his legs kept shaking under the table.

I thought it over. I could solve the joint problem with earth magic. I could precisely control the magic I released from my fingertips, so making a ball-and-socket joint wouldn't be difficult. A face would require finer work, but my earth magic should be precise enough.

"I'll give it a try."

I placed my left hand on the table. A faint earthy yellow light appeared at the fingertips of my prosthetic hand, and a small clump of earth on the tabletop began to move. I concentrated, drawing the earth together slowly and shaping it.

First came the socket: a spherical hollow less than two centimeters across, with smooth inner walls and precision measured in fractions of a millimeter. Then came the matching ball joint, which fit perfectly inside and turned freely without being loose.

I put the finished joint on the table.

Zanoba stared at the little object, his breathing coming to a halt.

He reached out and touched the inside of the socket with a fingertip. Then he turned the ball joint. It moved smoothly, without catching.

"This is it..." His voice trembled. "This is the precision I've dreamed of!"

His eyes turned red. A one-hundred-and-eighty-five-centimeter giant stared at a two-centimeter ball-and-socket joint on the table, his eyes red.

I said nothing.

This guy... he looks like a pervert, but he really takes making dolls seriously.

"Zanoba, we could work together."

His head snapped up.

"I'll use earth magic to make the delicate skeletons and faces. You can handle the polishing, painting, clothes, and final assembly. Your painting skills are excellent, much better than mine."

"Master, do you mean it?!"

"Of course I do. At the same time, you'll have to teach me how to paint dolls."

"Deal!!"

He slapped the table.

The table cracked.

A crack ran through the entire tabletop, straight down the middle. The tools on it clattered to the floor.

Zanoba looked at the cracked table, then at me. His expression went from rapture to horror to guilt, changing three times in as many seconds.

"M-Master... I didn't mean to..."

"I know."

A voice came from the doorway.

"Your Highness."

Zanoba and I turned at the same time. A woman stood in the doorway, wearing light knight's armor, with short brown hair and a shortsword at her waist. She stood very straight.

"Ginger." Zanoba's tone changed, his earlier panic giving way to a certain reassurance. "When did you get here?"

"Just now." Ginger's gaze swept over me, sizing me up from head to toe before returning to Zanoba. "Your Highness, can this person be trusted?"

"Of course he can!" Zanoba grew excited again. "Ginger, he's the master I've waited so long for! Rudeus Greyrat! You've seen his Roxy doll!"

Ginger's expression shifted slightly. She glanced at me again, her gaze pausing on my prosthetic hand for a moment before moving away.

"Rudeus Greyrat," she repeated. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Hello."

She said nothing more. She stepped back and leaned against the doorframe, her right hand resting on the hilt of her shortsword. It was a standard guard's position, but her weight was shifted slightly forward, as though she were ready to move at any moment.

Zanoba was already crouching on the floor, picking up the scattered tools and muttering, "The table needs fixing," "I'll have to find a carpenter," and "Good thing this chisel isn't broken." I crouched down to help him.

Ginger stood in the doorway, watching the two of us pick things up off the floor. She took her hand off her sword hilt and folded her arms across her chest.

But I noticed the corners of her mouth turn up a little, though she quickly pressed them down again.

Once we had cleaned up, Zanoba pulled me into a discussion about the details of how we would divide the doll-making work. He brought out a stack of drawings covered in designs for all kinds of dolls. Some had been revised more than a dozen times, the paper worn fuzzy. I looked over his design ideas. He really had put work into them, and his understanding of human proportions and clothing construction surpassed that of an ordinary craftsman. The problem lay only in the execution: his hands weren't deft enough, and he didn't have enough magic.

I could solve both of those problems.

We spent nearly an hour going over the drawings. Zanoba grew more excited as he talked, nearly slapping the table again several times. Each time, he raised his hand halfway before pulling it back and rubbing his hands together instead.

"We'll start with five in the first batch." I drew a rough sketch on the plans. "Three body types, two faces. I'll make the skeletons. That should take about a week. You get the clothes and accessories ready in the meantime."

"A week?!" Zanoba's eyes went wide. "It takes me two months to make one doll's skeleton!"

"Carving by hand is bound to be slow. I can do it much faster with magic."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then he adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath.

"Master." His voice suddenly became very serious. He took off his glasses, wiped the lenses with the hem of his robe, and put them back on. "I've spent a year at this university. In that year, I made... thirty-seven, and I poured everything I had into each one."

He paused and looked at the walls full of dolls.

"But every one of them..."

He didn't finish. After a while, he continued, "I know where the problems lie. My hands aren't deft enough, I'm too strong, and I don't have enough magic. I know all of it, but I just can't do it."

He turned back to look at me.

"Master, I've finally found you."

I looked at him. There was something deeply earnest in those eyes behind his glasses.

This guy... he really wants to make good dolls. That's passion, I guess.

"One week," I said. "I'll make one complete sample for you to look at first. If you're satisfied, we'll start making them in batches."

"Good!"

His hand rose again. I quickly said, "Don't slap the table."

He lowered his hand and stomped his feet in place instead, making the floor shake.

I sighed.

When I had gathered my things and was ready to leave, Zanoba saw me to the door. Ginger was still standing there, like a pillar.

I walked out and glanced back. Ginger was saying something to Zanoba in a very low voice.

"Your Highness, your master..." Her gaze flicked toward me, then away. "His mana reserves are abnormal."

Zanoba didn't look at her.

"I can sense that his mana is bottomless. He doesn't seem like a student." Ginger's hand tightened slightly on her sword hilt.

Zanoba smiled and shook his head. He adjusted his glasses, his expression calm.

"He's not an enemy, Ginger. He's my friend."

I pretended not to hear and turned to leave.

The hallway was long. Afternoon sunlight shone through the windows, casting golden stripes across the stone floor.

I walked a few steps, then looked back at the closed wooden door.

"Friend."

The word carried quite a bit of weight coming from Zanoba.

I slipped my hands into my pockets and headed toward the classroom. The next class was mixed magic theory. Cliff had probably already saved a seat.