₲єƿƿєŧŧø One musty, night, when the overpopulation of dark clouds over ruled even the brightest of stars, a weary traveler stumbled along a beaten road. He illuminated his own way with a single kerosene lamp. The only thing he carried was an immense, leather-bound suitcase and the heavy cloak on his back. After trekking for what seemed like countless hours, the man spotted a faint light in the distance. The musky night turned into a foggy dawn before the traveller made his way towards the town. Although the hour was extremely early, bakers making their hearty bread, wives putting out her child's clothing to dry, and men hurrying toward their day jobs. No one seemed to acknowledge or even notice the fatigued traveler as he strolled lesuirely through the town, his suitcase swinging at his side. He found a small wooden bench to rest on. Soon, he was asleep, embracing the suitcase as if it were his only love. In fact, the suitcase's treasure was his one and only prized position, a doll, about the size of an average young teenager, with long, honey blonde hair. Complete with metal-hinged limbs, rotatable head and aposable fingers, the doll was made out of the finest pine wood his own hands carved obsessively. The traveller awoke with a start. He realized his suitcase, along with his beloved creation, were gone. Forever out of his grasp. ••• About at the same time near the mourning traveller, two boys ran with victory, both clutching to their latest find. What was in the suitcase? They wondered, chuckling with excitement. "I hope it's filled with sweets and pastries!" The shorter one with dusty blonde hair exclaimed greedily. "I wish for shoes, and maybe a new pair of trousers. If we're lucky, maybe there could be unspent money!" The taller, copper-haired boy dreamed aloud. "When will we open it?" The short boy asked his friend, too impatient to wait much longer. "We can open it now!" The taller one eyed the suitcase, filled with wonder. After a quick cheer, the boys knelt beside the trunk, the taller one undid the leather binds. To their disappointment, what was inside the suitcase was not sweets, pastries, shoes, trousers or even a bit of pocket money. Instead, the life-size doll lay carefully folded and packed away. "What is this?!" The tallest boy recoiled. "Where's my sweets?" The shorter boy enraged. He lifted the doll out of it's sanctuary and shook it. "Well, that's what to expect of an old loon like him," The copper-haired one signed. The blonde-haired boy proceeded to throw the doll on the dirt ground, kicking her side and stomping on her beautiful hair and face. "Let's go find something else," The taller one said sourly, turned his back to the abused doll. The two boys left the doll, feeling broken and empty. Not long afterwards, a witch carrying a violet, laced parcel came across the doll sprawled the dark alley beside her abandoned carrier. The witch eyes a doll generously as she sprinkled a few droplets on the doll. While she worked, she hummed. "Huh?" A confused gasp escaped the doll's lips. Her hands quickly moved to examine her mouth. "I've given you the privelidge of movement, Pio," The witch smiled and held out a hand to help up the newly named doll. "Pio?" Pio asked, taking the witch's hand. "That's your new name," The witch hoisted Pio up. "Pio," Pio recited with her ginger voice. The doll was delighted to have a name to call her own.
Chapter 2 "Pio, Pio, Pio..." Pio sang with delight, swinging her wooden arms. Skipping on her dainty wooden feet. "Now Pio, these are apples," The witch, whom Pio had learned to call Delilah, showed her a juicy, rose-colored fruit. "Apples," Pio copied, taking the fruit and examining it. It was a week earlier, Delilah had taken Pio home to her cozy house. Delilah, who had previously lived alone, was delighted to have found company. A tall, slim man was waiting in the doorframe. "Jiminy, I have something to show you," Delilah announced. "What?" Delilah's son, Jiminy, answered. He didn't live at his mother's house, but visited often. The witch acknowledged Pio, who was cowering behind her. Grasping, caressing, Pio's shoulders gently, like a mother. "This is Pio," Delilah smiled with delight, "I want you to teach her right from wrong."