“This all I need?”
The dirty young man, not much past eighteen, stared at the spinning talisman. His eyes were ravenous.
“Yes, this will constitute our contract, and I will be your patron.”
Across the table, a man in dapper attire, with angular features and a cunning expression, returned the young man’s eager stare with a knowing smile.
The young man licked his lips, fighting the urge to reach out with his twitching fingers. Instead, he reached down to his belt pouch and pulled out a flawless ruby he nicked earlier that day. The other man took it with a widening grin, then dropped the talisman into the boy’s open hand.
“A deal made and honored. The gem for a piece of my power.”
The young man slipped the talisman over his greasy mop of dirty-blonde hair, where it rested against his bony chest, his ribs exposed beneath his ill-fitting tunic.
“You must keep that with you at all times. Until you master your new powers, you will only have access to the magic while wearing that talisman.”
The boy nodded solemnly, then brightened. “You say my first power will be to go unseen, yes?”
The man leaned back, fingers steepled. “Of course. It will help your current craft. At least, until you become stronger and can move on to more fruitful endeavors instead of stealing bits and baubles.”
Fingering the talisman, the boy asked, “Can I test it now? I want to see!”
The man’s eyes shone. “Of course, but I must warn you: for now, your powers are limited, as our bond is new. Only your body and the talisman will turn invisible. Your attire, I’m afraid, will remain visible to others. Only once you grow in strength will it hide what you carry.”
The man stood, his imposing figure a stark contrast beside the scrawny young man, who was nearly the full height he would reach and likely doomed to remain short. The man rummaged through the back of his wagon, pulled out a large mirror, and turned it toward the young man.
“Now, concentrate. Focus on being unseen.”
The young man closed his eyes, thinking as hard as he could, willing himself to be invisible. A moment later, he grunted involuntarily, and he heard the man say, “Now look.”
The young man opened his eyes and looked into the mirror, half expecting to see his pimple-riddled face and scarred features staring back at him. Instead, he saw only the loose-fitting tunic and undersized pants floating in mid-air; behind them, the wooden wagon. His body was gone. He could not help but gasp.
“It works! Ya can’t see me!”
“Of course. But mind, this power will only work for up to an hour and once a day. You shall not be able to use it again until tomorrow. And you will need it, for there is something else I wish you to acquire for me, and practicing your new talent will benefit you as well.”
The boy stopped trying to concentrate on being sightless and turned his attention to his new patron.
“Inside Sonny’s gambling hall vault, a gem recently came into their possession after some fool gambled it away. I saw him ante a flawless emerald when he thought his hand was sure to win. His loss was their gain, and now it will soon be ours. Retrieve that gem for me tomorrow and meet me here. I will be most pleased and inclined to hasten your development.”
The young man nodded eagerly. “It’s done! I can sneak past them like this. But only me and this bauble can be unseen?”
“That is right. You will need to shed your attire before entering the den.”
“But I need me picks to get past their locks. How’ll I get those inside if they ain’t going to be hidden too?”
The man shrugged. “I am sure you have ways to sneak contraband through places where they search your pockets.”
The young man’s face briefly betrayed his discomfort, but he quickly dismissed it.
“Yes, there’s ways. I’ll get this gem for you. Same time tomorrow?”
The other man, sporting a devilish grin, said, “Yes, same time tomorrow, right here. Bring me my gem, and I will increase your power.”
The young man practically bounced in his seat, barely containing his excitement. He jumped to his feet, thanked him, and scurried off toward the back alley where he camped, his mind filled with future possibilities now that he was among the powerful. Meanwhile, the man packed up his caravan, putting away his chairs and the table where he held these meetings, whistling as he loaded the rest of his goods and made sure everything was ready. He pocketed the gem with a toothy grin.
He set out into the night.
Early the next evening, the young man slunk into the alley behind the card-den, glancing about to ensure no one saw his preparations. Assured he had the back road to himself, he slipped out of his clothing, leaving nothing on him but his new talisman and the leather-wrapped tools of his trade, covered in animal lard to ease how he must stow them. He hated this part and rarely practiced it, always in awe of those who regularly smuggle contraband this way. The young man could not help but let slip an involuntary whimper as he finished depositing the tools. He hoped the discomfort wouldn’t interfere with his ability to focus on his newly granted talent. After a moment, he let his body settle and began to concentrate, willing himself to go unseen.
Quietly, he opened the window overlooking the alley and dropped into the kitchen, blessedly unoccupied. He felt smug satisfaction at his planning, timing his arrival so no kitchen staff were present to be spooked by the window opening on its own. After dropping in, he snuck over to the door and waited, listening for a few beats to ensure no one would see the door open by itself. Only the din of distant conversation reached his ears—the hall was empty.
Perfect.
He slipped through the door and confidently (but quietly) made his way down the hallway to the opposite stairwell, preparing to pass by the open room with all the card games. He wiped sweat from his brow and took a deep breath, afraid his breathing would betray his presence despite the raucous conversations in the room. Feeling smug, he strode across the opening, confident in his newly acquired power.
The conversations stopped.
The young man looked into the room and froze.
Around more than a dozen tables, several dangerous-looking men with tattoos, scars, and weapons clutched their cards close, staring back into the hall, bewildered. In clear view of all of them stood a naked young man trying to creep past. A pale, skin-and-bones street survivor, clad in nothing except for the dirt and mud caked to his scrawny legs, the greasy mop of hair on the top of his head, and a slightly darker patch of curly hair at his crotch. His shrunken genitals had tried to retreat into his body from the cold and the surge of fright sinking into his bones. One foot raised, poised to take a step forward, he froze in terror as a sudden realization came crashing into his awareness.
He was not invisible. He was never invisible.
During the longest pause the young man had ever endured, while the men stared and he stared back, his vision blurred and the muscles in his panicked gut slackened. The leather case with his tools slid out, clattering to the ground like some sick, greasy punchline.
Miles away in another town, the man with angular features and fanciful dress set up his table and chairs within a camp lit by low-burning lanterns. He hung up a sign advertising “items of wonder,” and then pulled out a familiar mirror to check his appearance. He took a moment to straighten his collar and adjust his fit; though his hands were unseen in their duties, his body was without reflection, letting the clothing take focus without the distraction of his handsome features.
Satisfied, he stole one final glance at a small chest filled with gems and jewelry and plucked a talisman from the bunch. He closed it as a new mark approached, a scraggly-looking urchin in ratty clothes, missing teeth, and digging deeply in his nose. The man flashed the young lad a toothy, devilish grin.
“Young man, I see great potential in you. How would you like to become a Warlock with the power to take anything you want?”
The boy sat up, curiosity piqued. The man leaned forward.
“But first, I need you to perform a service for me…”
End.
The dirty young man, not much past eighteen, stared at the spinning talisman. His eyes were ravenous.
“Yes, this will constitute our contract, and I will be your patron.”
Across the table, a man in dapper attire, with angular features and a cunning expression, returned the young man’s eager stare with a knowing smile.
The young man licked his lips, fighting the urge to reach out with his twitching fingers. Instead, he reached down to his belt pouch and pulled out a flawless ruby he nicked earlier that day. The other man took it with a widening grin, then dropped the talisman into the boy’s open hand.
“A deal made and honored. The gem for a piece of my power.”
The young man slipped the talisman over his greasy mop of dirty-blonde hair, where it rested against his bony chest, his ribs exposed beneath his ill-fitting tunic.
“You must keep that with you at all times. Until you master your new powers, you will only have access to the magic while wearing that talisman.”
The boy nodded solemnly, then brightened. “You say my first power will be to go unseen, yes?”
The man leaned back, fingers steepled. “Of course. It will help your current craft. At least, until you become stronger and can move on to more fruitful endeavors instead of stealing bits and baubles.”
Fingering the talisman, the boy asked, “Can I test it now? I want to see!”
The man’s eyes shone. “Of course, but I must warn you: for now, your powers are limited, as our bond is new. Only your body and the talisman will turn invisible. Your attire, I’m afraid, will remain visible to others. Only once you grow in strength will it hide what you carry.”
The man stood, his imposing figure a stark contrast beside the scrawny young man, who was nearly the full height he would reach and likely doomed to remain short. The man rummaged through the back of his wagon, pulled out a large mirror, and turned it toward the young man.
“Now, concentrate. Focus on being unseen.”
The young man closed his eyes, thinking as hard as he could, willing himself to be invisible. A moment later, he grunted involuntarily, and he heard the man say, “Now look.”
The young man opened his eyes and looked into the mirror, half expecting to see his pimple-riddled face and scarred features staring back at him. Instead, he saw only the loose-fitting tunic and undersized pants floating in mid-air; behind them, the wooden wagon. His body was gone. He could not help but gasp.
“It works! Ya can’t see me!”
“Of course. But mind, this power will only work for up to an hour and once a day. You shall not be able to use it again until tomorrow. And you will need it, for there is something else I wish you to acquire for me, and practicing your new talent will benefit you as well.”
The boy stopped trying to concentrate on being sightless and turned his attention to his new patron.
“Inside Sonny’s gambling hall vault, a gem recently came into their possession after some fool gambled it away. I saw him ante a flawless emerald when he thought his hand was sure to win. His loss was their gain, and now it will soon be ours. Retrieve that gem for me tomorrow and meet me here. I will be most pleased and inclined to hasten your development.”
The young man nodded eagerly. “It’s done! I can sneak past them like this. But only me and this bauble can be unseen?”
“That is right. You will need to shed your attire before entering the den.”
“But I need me picks to get past their locks. How’ll I get those inside if they ain’t going to be hidden too?”
The man shrugged. “I am sure you have ways to sneak contraband through places where they search your pockets.”
The young man’s face briefly betrayed his discomfort, but he quickly dismissed it.
“Yes, there’s ways. I’ll get this gem for you. Same time tomorrow?”
The other man, sporting a devilish grin, said, “Yes, same time tomorrow, right here. Bring me my gem, and I will increase your power.”
The young man practically bounced in his seat, barely containing his excitement. He jumped to his feet, thanked him, and scurried off toward the back alley where he camped, his mind filled with future possibilities now that he was among the powerful. Meanwhile, the man packed up his caravan, putting away his chairs and the table where he held these meetings, whistling as he loaded the rest of his goods and made sure everything was ready. He pocketed the gem with a toothy grin.
He set out into the night.
Early the next evening, the young man slunk into the alley behind the card-den, glancing about to ensure no one saw his preparations. Assured he had the back road to himself, he slipped out of his clothing, leaving nothing on him but his new talisman and the leather-wrapped tools of his trade, covered in animal lard to ease how he must stow them. He hated this part and rarely practiced it, always in awe of those who regularly smuggle contraband this way. The young man could not help but let slip an involuntary whimper as he finished depositing the tools. He hoped the discomfort wouldn’t interfere with his ability to focus on his newly granted talent. After a moment, he let his body settle and began to concentrate, willing himself to go unseen.
Quietly, he opened the window overlooking the alley and dropped into the kitchen, blessedly unoccupied. He felt smug satisfaction at his planning, timing his arrival so no kitchen staff were present to be spooked by the window opening on its own. After dropping in, he snuck over to the door and waited, listening for a few beats to ensure no one would see the door open by itself. Only the din of distant conversation reached his ears—the hall was empty.
Perfect.
He slipped through the door and confidently (but quietly) made his way down the hallway to the opposite stairwell, preparing to pass by the open room with all the card games. He wiped sweat from his brow and took a deep breath, afraid his breathing would betray his presence despite the raucous conversations in the room. Feeling smug, he strode across the opening, confident in his newly acquired power.
The conversations stopped.
The young man looked into the room and froze.
Around more than a dozen tables, several dangerous-looking men with tattoos, scars, and weapons clutched their cards close, staring back into the hall, bewildered. In clear view of all of them stood a naked young man trying to creep past. A pale, skin-and-bones street survivor, clad in nothing except for the dirt and mud caked to his scrawny legs, the greasy mop of hair on the top of his head, and a slightly darker patch of curly hair at his crotch. His shrunken genitals had tried to retreat into his body from the cold and the surge of fright sinking into his bones. One foot raised, poised to take a step forward, he froze in terror as a sudden realization came crashing into his awareness.
He was not invisible. He was never invisible.
During the longest pause the young man had ever endured, while the men stared and he stared back, his vision blurred and the muscles in his panicked gut slackened. The leather case with his tools slid out, clattering to the ground like some sick, greasy punchline.
Miles away in another town, the man with angular features and fanciful dress set up his table and chairs within a camp lit by low-burning lanterns. He hung up a sign advertising “items of wonder,” and then pulled out a familiar mirror to check his appearance. He took a moment to straighten his collar and adjust his fit; though his hands were unseen in their duties, his body was without reflection, letting the clothing take focus without the distraction of his handsome features.
Satisfied, he stole one final glance at a small chest filled with gems and jewelry and plucked a talisman from the bunch. He closed it as a new mark approached, a scraggly-looking urchin in ratty clothes, missing teeth, and digging deeply in his nose. The man flashed the young lad a toothy, devilish grin.
“Young man, I see great potential in you. How would you like to become a Warlock with the power to take anything you want?”
The boy sat up, curiosity piqued. The man leaned forward.
“But first, I need you to perform a service for me…”
End.