From time to time, a curious witch would investigate the tea her dolls constantly consumed. It was never a single substance, but rather a whole family of drinks that dolls considered to be tea.

Tea, in this context, was anything a doll drank for its own pleasure. It was the act of preparation that gave the substance its potency, infused with the simple purpose of doing a routine task. It made for a potent magic cocktail that was invigorating to dolls. By this same property, dolls often prepared cookies that were far from anything a casual observer might recognize as such. The only thing a doll cookie had to be was a single item, generally a sweet, that had some kind of preparation that was repeatable and simple.

Witches would regularly consume items prepared for them by their dolls, but every witch learned quickly never to accept such things from another’s doll. A witch had natural immunity to her own doll’s magicks, but from another, it could leave a witch injured or corrupted. Of course, eventually, a curious witch might study the elixirs her dolls so constantly consumed, trying to pinpoint the exact magical properties at work. They might consult prior literature on the subject, revealing a truly dense field of research on the innate magicks of dolls.

A particularly brave witch might reverse engineer their dolls’ cooking, distilling the sustaining magical from it into a -relatively- safe potion that they could use to temporarily change their essence to that of a doll’s. It was always a queer experience for a witch’s dolls, finding a new doll in their midst giddy to learn more of their ways, especially when it looked suspiciously like their Miss. But, for some reason, it always showed up when their Miss was gone, so they thought little of it.

Some witches were content to experience their dolls’ perspective once and file it away as a curious exploration, not unlike witches of old who’d roam villages as cats. Others found themselves increasingly drawn to it, spending weeks at a time amidst their dolls as one of them. Their dolls never minded, of course, though sometimes a witch-turned-doll might try to reveal itself as such, only to be met with laughter. After all, how could their witch be a doll? It didn’t make any sense.

Why dolls had such a hard time accepting this was a matter of debate: most witches agreed it was because dolls, following their own form of logic, could only accept a witch had been turned if one of their number had done it. A witch who turned herself didn’t make sense to them. Still, a committed witch might keep herself turned for months at a time, only reverting to maintain the magical wards of her sanctuary. It proved to be a peaceful existence for them, simple days of going about simple Purposes, enjoying the company of their dolls.

A rumor whispered at meetings of the Sisterhood, officially disproved by the Mothers, was that some witches had not only consorted with their dolls like this on a permanent basis, but had learned how to transfer their magicks with them after turning. Such a thing, a doll that held the powers of a witch, was a taboo subject, strictly disavowed by any coven’s leadership. It violated the long held relationship between witch and doll, presented an existential threat to those who could only see dolls as something lesser.

The rumors persisted nonetheless, and once in a while, a particularly bold witch would take the tea offered to her by her dolls, mixed with the refined essence of countless other teas, offer a prayer to Eve for her safety, and close her eyes for the last time on her human form.






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