Tradition's End (A Touhou Project Fanfiction)

A Fateful Meeting

Familiar comforts, as she considered them, are those best indulged in frequently.

...

The sun hung low, scattering intense colors across the Gensokyan sky and burning through the windows of her living room.

It was evening once again, the best time for one to engage in evening activities.

And so, with a fragrant cup of tea and a recently borrowed book on refined animation enchantments, she settled in for some light reading.

Various dolls drifted nearby, cleaning up the remains of a simple dinner.

A sip here. A page turn there. It was what she did nearly every evening. It just felt... right.

She read until the brilliant orange light filtering in through her windows had faded to a soft twilight.

Closing her book, she gazed out through one such window. Soon, the forest surrounding her would grow restless, teeming with youkai and other creatures going about their own nightly routines.

She, however, was not concerned. Some youkai she knew by name, and those she did not knew better than to disturb her idyllic little house in the woods. Few were foolish enough to cause trouble in the Forest of Dolls.

She was a youkai too, after all. Alice Margatroid, the magician who wielded magic that gleamed with every color of the rainbow.

...Were all those colors necessary?

Perhaps not, but danmaku duels were a matter of spectacle above all else. Indeed, she had a reputation to uphold as the Seven-Colored Puppeteer.

...

The sound of something shifting within her fireplace drew Alice's attention. The once blazing fixture now hosted only glowing coals and smoldering embers.

In response, she dispatched two dolls to add two more logs to the fire.

More dolls were directed to close the shutters for the night. Yet more of them lit the candles scattered throughout the house.

Her dolls held no feelings and no wills of their own, no matter how much she wished otherwise. Alice's will was manifested through them, both consciously and subconsciously. They were an extension of her, tethered by magic, and they would move without so much as a word.

Still, she gave a quiet "Thank you," as they returned to their shelf.

The logs in the fireplace caught fire, returning the room to her desired level of coziness.

It was to be another peaceful night, alone, in the dollhouse she had built for herself. It was what she was used to.

A certain doll floated up to her.

Familiar.

"Hello, Shanghai," Alice greeted before plucking the doll out of the air and setting it in her lap. She ran her fingers through Shanghai's hair, made from clippings of her own locks that were magically attuned to the doll's head.

Shanghai was her favorite. Her masterpiece. A doll that she had spent years agonizing over.

As Alice's skills in dollmaking and enchanting improved, so too did Shanghai. All that effort put towards stronger enchantments and ball joints and fabric and porcelain. As a result, almost nothing of the original doll remained, save for the eyes, the first things Alice had mastered.

Of course, all of her dolls were beautifully crafted, but Shanghai was on another level. She was incredibly complex and, at this point, nearly indestructible.