A blog dedicated to fictional short stories and role-playing across a spectrum of video-games and fantasy worlds.

Monday, September 2, 2013

Site Write 2, Entry 9- Spirits

Beckyann walked through the crowds of laughing people, blending in well enough in her dress and dark glasses as she passed the various tents and stalls of the farmer's fair. People of all ages walked all around her, buying, selling, playing games, getting their faces painted and generally having a good time. They were so engrossed with the enjoyment of the last summer fair of the year that few paid her any heed; precisely as she preferred it.

As she passed various stalls of merchants trying to hawk their wares, her eyes scanned over the goods being sold. There were many things that caught her fancy from clothing to a jeweler selling some lovely necklaces and rings. She paused for a moment, studying the beautiful jewelry before a particularly loud shriek of laughter made her turn around to see what the commotion was.

Behind her a group of three young women in their early twenties had exited a tent with a strange symbol set over it, their laughter echoing as one of them playfully shoved her friend. "I will not be married within a year! That's just silly! I can't believe you all bought that fraud!"

Her friends continued to laugh at her, the playful banter of the trio echoing back through the crowd and making Beckyann curious. She stepped towards the tent, studying the strange glowing purple eye that seemed to hover over the entrance. A small stand beside the tent's entrance had a placard on it declaring the tent the property of 'The Amazing Zellmex, Spirit Talker and Psychic'. She shook her head, rolling her eyes behind her glasses as she realized it was likely some man merely making coin off of the fair-goers by giving them little riddles or mysterious talk and claiming it was prophecy or speaking with the dead. Still, the entire point of a fair was to have an enjoyable time and waste a bit of coin. She smiled and pushed the tent entrance aside, stepping inside.

The tent itself was large, the opening segregated from the rear with cloth flaps that likely lead to the personal areas that this 'Amazing Zellmex' maintained for himself. As one would expect, the canvas room she found herself in was dripping with mysterious but ultimately useless objects, from the deep, thick rug with arcane symbols sewn into it to the shelves with skulls and candles along the exterior of the tent. The center of the tent featured a small round table with two highbacked chairs around it, a mass of candles and incense burning in a centerpiece. Although she couldn't smell the incense, she smirked as she watched the trail of smoke curl into the air, imagining the mysterious air it lent to the proceedings. It was typical of your charlatan to create the atmosphere that would most make you believe that everything he said was real.

Knowing she was about to be entertained, Beckyann slipped into one of the chairs. She looked around, seeing a small wooden box with a coin slot in the top. The strongbox had a little sign indicating the price of a reading, and with a smile Beckyann dropped three coins into the box, their clink heard throughout the tent.

To her everlasting surprise, a puff of smoke appeared in the chair opposite her, the candles flaring up as the smoke thickened. In a moment a shadowy form appeared within it, the smoke beginning to clear as a man sat there, his clothes consisting of a turban and thick robes with arcane symbols decorating the fabric. He shouted, his hands raised above his head, "Behold the Amazing Zellmex!"

Beckyann clapped her hands, delighted. The level of showmanship was worth the coins she had paid already, and she knew she was in for a real treat. She smiled at the man, sitting back in her chair. "I am Beckyann Eastberg. I'd like to hear my fortune."

The man's eyes abruptly widened and then narrowed. His hands came down, slamming on the table top, "You are a liar!"

Beckyann blinked in surprise, her eyes wide, "W-what..?"

"You heard me. You are a liar! You sit there, pretending to be a customer, paying your coin and smiling at me as if all was normal, but you are not what you appear to be," the man said. The tone of his voice spoke volumes about how serious he was.

"I-I just wanted my f-fortune read," Beckyann murmured, her voice low.

"Your fortune has come and gone, wayward spirit," the man said firmly, his eyes locked on her. For a brief moment Beckyann thought she felt something about him, some tingling sense of magic. It startled her as she realized that the Amazing Zellmex was far more than he appeared to be. He continued speaking, ignoring her squirming in her chair. "Why do you insist on coming before me, as if I have not spoken to the dead enough? At least the spirits who come to me are benign, seeking only to comfort a loved one or to send one final message. But you, that is not your purpose, is it? Why could you not fade like the others? Return to the Plaguewood and take your rest as you should have long ago."

Beckyann actually gasped as the man pointed at her, her jaw working and no sounds coming out. Whatever magic he was using, it was powerful indeed to divine the location of her demise; a fact that only a few of her brother and sister Knights even knew about. She shook her head, trying to find something to say to him.

His glare bored into her, and he lowered his accusing finger, shaking his head, "Just go. You have no fate, no fortune. The dead cannot have the future written for them, for they are a thing of the past. For as long as you walk this world, you are an abomination in the sight of men and beasts. Begone."

There was, of course, a limit to Beckyann's rather fragile patience, and insulting her was likely not the man's best course of action. She slammed her hands on the table in front of her, the dim light in the room allowing the glow of her eyes to leak around the edges of her sunglasses. There was little mistaking the malice in her tone as she stared the man down, "You should watch what you say, necromancer. The spirits that come to you are benign perhaps, but you tread on dangerous ground when you insult the ones who are not."

The man shifted, staring at her, "If you wish to frighten me, you will find that your kind has lost the power to do so long ago. I have looked into the Shadow and see all."

Beckyann's nails began to dig into the wood. She reached up and slipped her sunglasses off, the baleful glow of her eyes boring into him. With a snarl she reached out and tendrils of dark magic wrapped around the man's torso, dragging him across the table and into her grip. The surprised look on his face was worth it, as was the look on his face when he spoke a word of magic and the spell slithered off of the runes she warded herself with. The glow of death runes on her hairpins illuminated the small tent for a moment.

With her face inches from the man, Beckyann whispered sensuously, "I suspect that you have no real idea what you are talking about. If you wish to test that claim however, I would be more than happy to oblige you. Perhaps my coming here had purpose after all. Your arrogance could be fatal, Mister Zellmex. Perhaps you should consider some humility and respect when you deal with the dead in the future."

With that, she tossed the man to the ground. He scrambled away from her, his eyes wide with fear. His suffering was pleasing to Beckyann, and she smirked as she rose from her chair, heading for the door. She leveled her baleful gaze on him for a moment longer before replacing her sunglasses and pushing the curtain aside, "Have a pleasant day, Mister Zellmex."

With that she departed, walking out into the sunlight, the smile still on her lips. It had been worth the coin for the entertainment she'd gotten out of it.

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