Chapter 21: Garrisoning the Frontier

They were the most popular cheap trinkets of the day: Frozen Charlottes.

Legend had it that a young girl, wishing to show off her beautiful dress, refused her mother’s blanket and consequently froze to death on a bitter winter night. The next day, when she was discovered, her body remained as lifelike as ever.

Roland didn’t think using that story to name a doll was a good idea.

"Bad luck."

"Ah, yes, I suppose I’ve been contaminated by Miss Nina. Over here, one must only speak well of the dead. Only those foreigners like to do otherwise."

"We’re not talking about foreigners now," Rick Rich said, rocking back and forth on his stool, his expression animated. "Guess what? I pretended to be asleep and caught the little thing pushing its coffin—I mean, its box—open to climb out for some air, along with the others."

"Does that mean I’m about to learn magic too?"

Children of that age were lawless, but Roland knew the true face of this world. He rested his chin on his cane and asked casually, "Did you tell your family?"

Rick Rich rolled his eyes at him.

"How could I not? They were terrified! Though, I don’t know why Dad didn't just throw the things away—he only said they couldn't be kept by my bedside."

"Can you show us?"

"That wouldn't be anything illegal, would it?"

"I think it’s better to tell the Church."

The children chattered away, unable to reach a decision—mostly because they were skeptical. They remembered how much Rick Rich had bragged when they first met him, claiming his father was a knight, his mother a noble lady, and that they lived in the West End, among other things. A moving doll wasn't even as fantastical as being a knight.

No one took it to heart, but a few days later, Rick Rich brought it up again in a secretive manner. He invited the children to his home and produced "evidence" from a jewelry box: a cream-colored shard about the length of a finger.

"I haven't told anyone but you lot about this."

The big-headed shoe-polisher looked left and right, confirming the door was locked—though, at this hour, his parents couldn't possibly be home.

"That day, my dad reported the matter to the constable."

"Oh—"

"Those adults with the badges?!"

"You're bragging again, aren't you?"

Rick Rich waved his hand, passing the porcelain shard around to the children until it finally reached Roland.

"Be careful, don't blame me if you get cut," he said. "The detective must have been nine or ten feet tall—"

Alice blinked. "Wouldn't that be nearly touching the ceiling?"

Rick paused. "I remembered wrong. Probably six feet."

The children burst into laughter.

"Anyway, his chest," Rick gestured, "was embroidered with golden thread. Very impressive!"

"Hurry up, what happened next?"

"Yes, go on."

Seeing he had their full attention, Rick puffed out his chest. "That gentleman asked for my help! Not my father’s—mine!"

"And then? And then?"

"He made Mom and Dad leave, and let me stay in the room alone—" Rick smirked, "to pretend I had fainted."

Pretending to faint? Roland’s eyes flickered. As Rick spoke, the text in Roland’s vision grew clearer.

"I lay on the ground and heard clicking sounds above me—guess what? Those stupid things opened their boxes and jumped off the cupboard! Hahaha, they all shattered..."

The children gasped in wonder.

"But..." Alice suddenly interjected, "why would they do that?"

Rick explained that the detective had warned his family: these things were rare household monsters. They would take root around a child, and once they caught the child off guard at night, they would use their shards to slit the child's throat and drink their blood—these porcelain monsters were terrifying.

So... getting back to it.

"Why would they do that?" Alice still didn't understand.

"I guess the detective cast some kind of spell."

"Bragging!" A child pointed out the flaw. "Rick Rich loves to brag!"

"Exactly. Magic? Is your dad planning to become a knight through 'magic'?"

The boys chattered, while Alice looked at Roland with concern. The sharp-edged porcelain shard turned over and over in his hand. He stared at the empty tabletop, lost in thought.

"Brother Roland?" Alice tugged gently on his sleeve.

"I quite like this little thing, Rick." Roland patted Alice’s head, turning his face toward Rick. "I’ve been hearing these stories since I was little..."

"Roland, you really shouldn't believe him!"

"Exactly, tomorrow his dad will probably be a count."

"I bet he just picked it up somewhere."

The disdain from the other children changed the way Rick Rich looked at Roland. He shouted, "See! Roland believes it! And he’s the smartest among us!"

*He didn't say that before,* Roland thought with a faint smile.

"So, Rick," Roland shook the shard in his hand, "how about you give it to me?"

Ah.

...Just give it away?

That made Rick hesitate. Seeing his reluctance, Roland pondered for a moment, then pulled several copper coins from his pocket, jingling them in his hand and tossing them up and down. "I’ll give you three, how about it?"

Rick Rich swallowed hard. The shoe polish factory only paid five or six coppers a week, seven in a good week, and that was before his father took half of it.

"You aren't allowed to go back on your word—"

Even as he said it, Rick Rich didn't give Roland a chance to retract the offer; he snatched the three irregular little coins immediately.

The other children tried to persuade Roland not to waste his hard-earned money, but Roland was more focused on the text in his vision.

...

[Abnormality: Guardian (Remnant)]

[Criterion: Mist]

[Children treat their home as a fortress, and their room or bed as a castle.]

[Guardians are born from the fantasies of children.]

[In households with a Guardian, phantoms find it difficult to approach.]

[They are extremely rare; once transplanted, they lose their efficacy.]

[They have no physical body of their own and manifest by inhabiting objects. When the person they protect is in danger, they will sacrifice their own existence to save them—for a Guardian, regardless of form, their sole mission is to protect these creatures filled with imagination.]

[Guardians are incredibly difficult to capture. They are highly sensitive to malice; once detected, they detach from their vessel and vanish without a trace.]

[Usually, a ritualist requires the cooperation of the household containing the Guardian to successfully obtain their remains (shards).]

[Research has shown that the remains of a Guardian possess the power to repel phantoms or walking corpses. When used to craft bullets, after being soaked in pure silver, they can effectively wound negative-energy entities.]

[They do not consume blood.]

[They feed on **.]

...

At the poorhouse, he had seen similar porcelain dolls. At the time, Roland had assumed they were decorations purchased by Director Abner. He had never heard of anything "strange" happening, nor had he seen any police.

Of course, he understood now. He also knew why the detective had made Rick Rich pretend to faint.

That boy was truly lucky.

Hopefully... he would never be that lucky again.