One can hear marching bands, shouting, and plenty of other muffled indecipherable sounds. Sitra Ahra has been the receiver of this strange music for sometime; unfortunately she thinks she’s in a dream, but someone turned off the TV screen for the dream, so it’s all black but with sounds. It’s better than most days, as the weekdays are occupied with her presenting her discolored satchel to strangers with pleading eyes. She loathes begging, but it’s not like she has a choice.
Sitra is a tiny 7 year old, with large, luminous eyes that work well in convincing rich strangers to part with their money. And like many kids her age, she has a passion for something, but unlike the other kids, it’s not dolls, or doll’s houses, or any kids toys. It’s magicians, also known as sorcerers. And she’s been waiting to see them again after a long time. But right now, she’s enjoying the noises with a smile on her asleep face.
“Sitra!”
“Sitraaaa!”
“Wake up sleepyhead, you’re gonna to miss the parade.”
Seemi, Sitra’s sister gently nudges her sister to wake up.
“Wut, parade is now? Sitra asks with a barely audible voice.
“Yes! Hurry up!”
“Oh no, you should have told me earlier you dumdum!”
Sitra frantically gets up, all hints of sleepiness vanished in thin air. She zips back and forth from one end of the room to the next, a tiny gremlin zipping around with adorable fury. Seemi gives Sitra the look, an angry teacher’s look, then sighs. She’s used to it.
Seemi crouches under a table, picks up Sitra’s “formal” clothes, and throws them at her.
“Ah, thanks Mimi.” Sitra chimes at Seemi.
“Hurry and change, before the parade goes away.” Seemi says sternly.
Sitra changes from her old dusty rags to slightly newer rags. This is her special dress. It’s mauve, and has little frills hanging below. Despite that, Sitra finds a special comfort in her everyday brown rags. Like a mutual affection, but clothes don’t feel affection you may ask. Well she’s but a child, and if she thinks it’s mutual affection, who are we to question it.
Sitra and Seemi leave to find the streets empty, but that’s because everyone’s either watching the parade or going there. They make their way through the winding dust and stench ridden streets. They live in what’s known as the Rat’s Hat, one of the many sprawling slums that encompass the royal city of Alexandria. While royalty refuses to visit these slums reeking of scum and death, the slum-dwellers gladly find themselves going over to the city for any form of free entertainment they can find.
The Tinkertown Travelling Circus is long awaited by the residents of Alexandria, young and old alike, and like many circuses, it’s a playground of oddities. Upright elephants, unicycle riding crocodile jugglers, magicians and a two-headed sky serpent are only but a sliver of what awaits the audience.
“EEEEEEE, I can hear it, I think we’re close!” Sitra says, happiness incarnate.
“Gee, I wonder about that. Why would such a crowd be standing here anyway?” Seemi says sarcastically.
“Oh you dumdum, everyone’s here for the parade, don’t you know that Mimi?”
“Why do I even bother with her?” Seemi says to herself.
Holding Sitra’s hand, Seemi navigates through the streets choked with foot traffic. Even the balconies of houses are filled with people, lying in wait for the circus to pass. The streets are changing, Seemi is finally in the Gentry quarters. It’s marked with clean walls, fancy doors, fresh scents, and people with tiny white hands, large shades covering their faces and beautiful dresses that Seemi can never afford.
Sitra is going restless. “Are we there yet?”
“We’re almost there.” Seemi snaps back.
The narrow lane opens up to a larger road. A large crowd is settled amongst the road sides, waiting patiently for the parade to pass through. Energy runs high, and the crowds wait impatiently.
Trumpets can be heard from the distance. Seemi waits with Sitra, ready to see the parade. But, Seemi is the only one there. Unknown to Seemi, Sitra goes ahead and traverses through the crowd to the location of the sound.
“Stop!” A man in a trench coat and large hat looks straight at Sitra. Sitra notices him from the periphery of her vision and slows down.
“Yes, you. Little one. Will you come here yes? I have something for you.” The man points his bony finger straight at Sitra. She stops, stricken with fear, and as if against her will, approaches the stranger. She sees his face up close. It’s a thin, grey face with sharp features and no facial hair. He seems to be lacking hair on his head too.
“Yes, good girl, now come will you come with me, yes?”
Sitra nods. The stranger opens a long mahogany door behind him. Sitra follows him into the dark. Inside, Sitra’s vision slowly gets used to the dark, and she finds herself in a long hallway.
“Follow me, please.” says the stranger, with a passive expression to his face.
Sitra complies. They enter a large open room lined with pool tables, desks, and chairs. No lights are on, and only a window barely illuminates this room. They climb a staircase to the first floor. It’s airy up here, and the lighting is better too. Sitra asks timidly, “Where are we going?”
The stranger says reassuringly, “Just wait a little longer, yes. All will be revealed.”
They enter another large room, but with a large window facing the street Sitra just left. She forgets her worries for a bit, and clings to the window, expecting the parade. The parade still isn’t here. The stranger calls to her, “You’ll get a better view from here.”
Sitra looks at the stranger in awe, and sure enough, he’s standing on the balcony. She scurries towards the stranger. He isn’t alone. A group of old and middle aged people stand with them, all dressed elegantly, nothing unusual for the residents of the Gentry quarters. Sitra now has a view of everything happening below.
The music is getting louder now, and sure enough, the parade approaches from the corner!
The gentry look disapprovingly at Sitra, an obvious misfit there. A small round man, well dressed and regal approaches the stranger and says with a tone of disapproval, "Mr Masvidal, why did you bring this girl here?"
Mr Masvidal, in a tone lavish with confidence, "My good sir Alvi, this is but an investment, yes."
"An investment, you say? Explain yourself."
"You don't need to worry yourself with such details good sir, I only ask of your trust in me."
Both gentlemen's voices are low, but even if they weren't, Sitra would still be oblivious to their discussion, as excitement grasped her.
No glare from the old strange folk around her mattered. What mattered was the parade below.
"A strange request indeed, Mr Masvidal, but that's to be expected from a researcher of your stature." Mr Alvi says.
The parade below begins with dancing lions holding flaming torches with their mouths, captivating the crowds, especially the children.
Meanwhile, scared yet angry, Seemi frantically searches for her little sister amongst the crowd. Pushing her way from alley to alley, calling out for Sitra. Her cries irritate some, and draw attention to her despite the parade being well underway.
She eventually ends up in an isolated alley, with a dead end. She turns to go back and find two young ruffians blocking her way. One of them is scrawny, with black hair and thin eyes. The other is larger, with a beard and a cropped light brown head of hair. She ignores them and tries to pass through, only to be blocked and shoved back.
"You've been messing with some folks you shouldn't have m'lady. And we've come here so you pay in kind."
"What are you talking about? Who sent you?"
"Some posh lord." The scrawny ruffian draws out a knife.
The parade is well in progress, with eight unique acts, like a beautiful ice castle sculpted with mind blowing precision by dragonkin sorcerers and a firefly display orchestrated by Luria the Fly Wrangler.
The crowd cheers with a renewed fervor, intensified by the next act.
The Phoenix Lord Sardoni, tall, proud and blazing (literally) stands tall on the moving platform.
The undisputed champion among sorcerers, his fiery spellwork and disposition is feared by friend and foe. Despite his status, he joined the Tinkertown parade as a chance to show off his skill to the world.
With careful incantations, precise hand gestures and a matchless reservoir of arcane power, he conjures a stag and giant hawk of pure fire. The hawk perches on the sorcerer's shoulder, who remains unscathed and unhindered. The stag runs around, a blazing almost living entity of fire.
The hawk flies to Sitra, and perches on top of her head. Sitra flails her little arms in sheer excitement. The group around Sitra quickly backs away, unable to withstand the fire hawk's intense heat, which feels only pleasantly warm to Sitra. Mr Masvidal remains unphased by this development. A hint of a smile appears on his creased face.
The perched fire hawk gets up and flies to its master. The sorcerer passes Sitra until he's out of sight.
Sitra, absolutely oblivious to the attention she's getting remembers her sister. Worried, she jets downstairs and out on the streets in no time. Mr Masvidal makes no attempt to stop her.
Click the link below to read part 2
https://steemit.com/story/@qasim.haider/the-tinkertown-sorcerer-part-2