The Nääkymäton Juna train hurtled through the snowy expanse, its rhythmic clatter filling the air with the sound of its motion.
Ilmarinen settled on his seat, the hum of the engine lulling him into a state of reluctant relaxation. The journey ahead promised to be quiet, a respite from the chaos that often plagued his days.
As the train swayed gently, Ilmarinen beckoned for a bottle of wine, the rich aroma of aged grapes teasing his senses. With a practiced hand, he uncorked the bottle, savoring the heady scent that wafted upwards, a welcome distraction from the monotony of the landscape outside. The dark blue walls of his cabin enveloped him in a cocoon, the brown curtains drawn open letting in the winter sun. The wooden floor gleamed under the soft glow of the sunlight; evidence of the meticulous care taken in maintaining the train's interior.
Annikki, a delicate figure seated across from him, gazed out at the snow-covered vista whizzing by, her expression distant and detached. A flicker of concern tugged at Ilmarinen's heart as he observed her futile attempts to turn her head towards him, a mechanical malfunction that flawed her porcelain features. With a resigned sigh, he retrieved a small bottle of oil and a pouch with tools from his briefcase, his movements precise and deliberate as he applied the lubricant to the joints of her left arm.
Annikki undressed her upper half, revealing the intricate mechanisms that lay beneath her delicate facade, a pang of sadness twisted in Ilmarinen's chest. The sight of the visible marks on her joints, the telltale signs of wear and tear, served as a stark reminder of the fragility of her existence— she was a doll.
With a heavy heart, Ilmarinen set to work, dismantling Annikki's arm with practiced ease, his brow furrowed in concentration. The sound of metal against metal filled the air as he unscrewed a hidden compartment, revealing the inner workings of her mechanical form. A mixture of laughter and moans escaped Annikki's lips as he administered the necessary repairs, his hands steady.
The ointment he applied to her neck's gear, a colorless elixir that promised relief from the constraints of her malfunctioning mechanism, elicited a strained movement from Annikki, a hesitant turn of the head that spoke volumes of her struggle.
A sudden stream of water that flowed from the cavity in her chest, a consequence of the melted snow that had seeped into her delicate frame, drew a curse from Ilmarinen's lips. With a deft hand, he reassembled Annikki after cleaning the mess with a cloth.
She hurried out of the compartment to get dressed in the restroom. Annikki returned, clad in a fresh dress, as Ilmarinen's gaze lingered on her. The flicker of her stare, a silent acknowledgment of his efforts, stirred a bittersweet ache in his chest.
"I'll have to get you a new gear for the neck," he said. "If you do not want your head to be locked again, try not to turn it around too much, and please, use an umbrella!" The snap of his fingers punctuated his words, a gesture of finality. “I don’t want snow pilling on top of you then melting and leaking inside.”
The fabric of Annikki's pink Victorian-style dress whispered softly as she moved, the delicate lace and intricate embroidery adding an air of elegance to her every step. The dress was a stark contrast to the monochromatic simplicity of her usual French maid attire.
Ilmarinen couldn't help but feel a pang of unease at the sight of Annikki in such a lavish ensemble. The dress, with its high collar and billowing sleeves, while the garment itself was a marvel of craftsmanship, clashed sharply with the image of the demure and efficient maid that he had grown accustomed to.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
The clatter of wheels and the hiss of smoke filled Ilmarinen's ears as he and Annikki navigated their way through the crowded train corridor. They had arrived at Paasilinna after a long and arduous journey, both of them weary from the hours spent cooped up inside the small compartment.
As they stepped off the train, the chill of the mid-spring snowy air hit them like a slap in the face. The snow that had begun to fall earlier in the day now came down in earnest, painting the world in a crisp, white blanket.
Ilmarinen adjusted the brim of his hat, pulling it down low over his eyes as he made his way through the bustling station. The scent of burning coal and hot metal hung heavy in the air, a pungent miasma that seemed to cling to his clothes and skin. Although he rather smelled like coal and not diesel.
He approached a kiosk, exchanging a few coins for a newspaper as he scanned the headlines with a practiced eye. His gaze lingered on a particularly troubling article, one that spoke of a recent uptick in crime and unrest within the city.
“Hundreds have lost their job after most of the city was destroyed,” he said, scratching his chin.
As he made his way toward the main exit, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. The sight of twenty Peacewalkers blocking the way did little to alleviate his concerns.
"Your ID please," a young cadet demanded, his voice brisk and unyielding. Ilmarinen complied, presenting his card with a sigh.
The Peacewalkers studied the document with a critical eye, their expressions inscrutable. Ilmarinen shifted impatiently, the weight of the briefcase in his hand only adding to his growing frustration.
When the Peacewalkers finally allowed him to pass, Ilmarinen breathed a sigh of relief. But the reprieve was short-lived, as the cadet stopped Annikki once more.
"She comes with me," Ilmarinen said, his tone firm.
"I'm sorry, but I cannot let her in without checking her ID," the cadet replied, his voice unwavering.
"She's my bodyguard," Ilmarinen said, the words tasting like ashes on his tongue.
The cadet's expression remained unchanged, a blank slate that offered no insight into his thoughts or feelings. The tension between them stretched like a taut wire, threatening to snap at any moment.
It was then that the Peacewalker captain approached, his eyes blazing with anger. "What is going on here?" the captain grumbled.
"Sir, the lady, tries to enter the city without ID and this gentleman wants to surpass our authority and let her in by force."
"By force? Please, you don't even know what you speak. She is my familiar. I even have the authority to pass through here without ID."
"What do you mean by that?" the captain asked.
"Don't you see it? She's a freaking doll," Ilmarinen complained. "No offense, Annikki."
She nodded.
Ilmarinen explained their situation, his voice calm and measured even as the captain's fury continued to mount. He could feel the eyes of the other travelers upon them.
"This is my ID," Ilmarinen showed it again.
"Ilmarinen Seppälä?” the captain asked. “We’re sorry, Sir. We didn’t know you were the new Highest Judge!"
"Let me in now. You are interrupting a judicial process!"
They let Ilmarinen in. “But Sir, what about her ID?” the cadet retained Annikki again.
"Damn it; she's a freaking doll!" Ilmarinen shouted, undressing her torso and revealing her limb's joints. Some people on the line seemed to be upset. Some mothers took their children and covered their eyes; other men cleared their throats as the cadet gasped.
"Damn Annikki, sorry about that. You can dress," Annikki immediately adjusted the dress.
Annikki did not feel embarrassment or anger; she had no emotions, except for pain. By design, dolls would miss their owners, and feel sadness or pain if their owners wouldn’t return or die. They could feel the pain produced by the loneliness in the hearts of people. However, Annikki could just feel physical pain after being hit, not the pain of losing a loved one, that feeling had been suppressed.
It was hard to separate Annikki from a typical girl; she was very well made, although her porcelain skin tone gave the impression of a woman using a thick layer of makeup foundation. Besides she would wear pantyhose, gloves, and long sleeves, so people wouldn’t notice her doll joints.