La Plata. If any man wanted to have the highest cliff you could build a castle on, La Plata was it. It overlooked the smaller towns below it like a king stands over his people, and would be a nice place to view sunsets if the area wasn't covered in smog. In fact, the smog was thickest here, with factories dotting the land below and spewing chemicals into the atmosphere. The La Plata Castle spewed smog as well, as all people knew that the Machina Monarch lived here, and god forbid he didn't have a factory producing materials right under his feet.
Janet wondered if Gaea found it funny that she was sent to the belly of the beast. One moment she was as far away from the factory cities as possible, the only place where greenery could grow without interruption... And now, she was where the Monarch called home, with enough crud in the air to make her cough and wheeze. She only hoped it looked nicer inside than out, because from first glance, the castle just looked like a ton of pipes and steel blocks, with chimneys spewing thick, black fog into the air. Yes, nicer inside would be pleasant...
"Fountains help me," she prayed as she trudged up the hill with nothing but her backpack full of essential items, "as I enter the realm of the mad king, the one who pollutes our planet without remorse. And help Gaea, as I fear I may sock her if he ever has a material form, amen."
The guards glare at her as she approached the doors, but they did not stop her. They simply opened the doors, watching her every move. Janet suspected that they knew that if she was going to cause trouble, she'd find her blood used on a brand new painting. Hopefully it would be used for a well-done painting, she thought to herself. If it ever comes to that.
Entering the castle was almost... blinding. All of the rooms and halls were brightly lit and made of gold. Tons and tons of gold. Chandeliers? Gold. Painting frames? Gold. Toilets? Heaven help anyone who left a permanent stain on it, because it was made out of gold! It made Janet sick. Honestly, where did these nobles get the money to indulge in these silly luxuries? Its not as if peasants like herself could afford the absurd taxes! Did gold just rain from the sky one day?!
Regardless, she could hear the sound of heels tapping against the floors, the whispers and murmurs of nobles as they looked upon the peasant's visage, and the clicks and whirrs of the machinery that worked below. She kept walking forward, unsure if that was the right direction in this giant labyrinth of rooms. She ignored the nobles that spoke harshly of her behind her back. She hoped that she was going the right direction, or else she was going to be really, really embarassed.
After what seemed like an eternity and a half, Janet finally reached the door that led to the Monarch himself, after stopping to ask a more than helpful noble where to go. Her body shook like a tree in a storm with nervousness. The beast himself was behind these double doors, and fountains forbid if she even so much implies the wrong things. With a few deep breaths, she steeled herself for the worst and pushed open the doors...
"WHO DARES?!"
Scared stiff, Janet awkwardly walked on in. This was the only room that was not layered with gold. In fact, it looked more like it was a part of a factory, with giant gears turning and steam shooting out of various pipes, and a furnace right behind the throne. And sitting on that throne was a gargantuan... Janet wasn't sure how to describe it. He was huge and was more machine than man. Was there even a man inside?! No man could ever be 15 feet tall, could they? Goodness, his hand could crush her head like a melon! Her bones were mere toothpicks!
One thing is for certain: the Machina Monarch was a giant oak of pure steel, and Janet was a mere, twiggy sapling.
"WHO DARES?!" he asks again, slamming his fist into the arm of his throne and making the whole room quake.
"I-I-I dare?" Janet stammered, whole body shivering. "I wish to, uh, speak with... with you?"
"THEN GET ON WITH IT, LASSIE. WHAT BUSINESS HAVE YOU WITH I, THE MONARCH OF MACHINES?"
"Oh, uh, I seek... I seek... employment here, yes, I..."
Janet shuddered as the Monarch narrowed his... were those his eyes?
"BOLD, AREN'T YE? NEVER HAD A PEASANT WALK UP TO ME AND ASK. BUT I DON'T NEED NO PEASANTS HERE IN THE CASTLE. I GOT ALL THE PEASANTS I NEED. MAYBE I'LL THINK TO HAVE YA... IF THIS BATCH DECIDES TO UP AND DIE."
"B-but you need me!" she retorted hastily. "I-I mean.. uh... What kind of monarchy doesn't have a historian on hand? Because I have you know, there aren't enough books about how you're changing this planet for the better, yes! Hardly a book about your graciousness!"
The gigas placed his hand upon his chin and stroked it. After a moment, he stood up from his throne- oh, fountains help us, he was much, MUCH bigger than 15 feet- and leaned in dangerously close to the twiggy girl.
"HISTORIAN, YOU SAY?" Janet can't see much behind the mask of metal, but she gets the feeling that he's smirking behind it. "TELL ME, LASSIE... WHAT KIND OF THINGS WOULD YE WRITE?"
Nothing errotic, that's for sure, she thought to herself, but out loud she said, "Oh, wonderous things, about how you came to rule, the changes instilled since your rule, how life has become so much better with your rule..." Her heart sank to her stomach as she spoke. So many lies, but dammit, flattery will get her closer to a job, and a way to end this madness.
The giant stood up straight... and laughed. Laughed and laughed and laughed until the whole room shook. He sat down and giggled a little more before staring down at little Janet.
"HA!" he boomed. "GOOD ONE, YA ARE. FIRST TIME A PEASANT GAVE ME THAT EXCUSE. BUT IF YOU'RE DETERMINED TO DO THAT WHILE HAVING THE HONOR OF LIVING IN MY PALACE... THEN WELCOME ABOARD, LASSIE! REMEMBER, THOUGH..." Janet could feel the venom in his words as the Monarch added, "YOU TRY ANYTHING FUNNY? YOUR SKIN WILL HANG ON MY WALLS."
Janet opened her mouth to speak, but she was interupted as the Monarch boomed, loud as thunder, "HANSEL! HANSEL, GET YOUR REAR HERE!"
----------------------------------
&^#!, Day 30
Another day, another time. Nothing has changed. I still remain caged with the beast that dares to rule. A trying time, for sure. My stay here has made me wish the Princess were still alive, for at least she was not as unbearable as the Monarch himself. Nor as loud. Ugh, I fear that I will eventually go deaf in the Monarch's company, and that won't aid me much, if at all.
On the bright side, I now have access to a wealth of information. The Monarch is at least kind enough to provide me with many books on the schools of magick, as well as the art of swordplay. It almost comes off as a dare, but he and I know that I'm not willing to take the risk quite yet. Eventually, though, I will serve his head on a silver platter...
On the other hand, La Plata, the City of Smog... It is my home now, and that means tollerating all the filth in the air, letting it fill my lungs each and every day. No trees or flowers to even clean it up... Not that they would survive long, given the acidity of the rains. Oh, how my heart yearns to return back to Tinsdale, back to my family... But the chains are set, and I fear I have no way of returning, not until I earn the Monarch's complete and utter trust.
Ugh. The Monarch is such a complete and utter bru-
"HANSEL! HANSEEEEEEL!"
The whole room shook with the Monarch's yelling, books falling off the mohagany desk and pots falling off the windowsill with a loud crash. The author sighed and set aside his quill pen, the bells on his jester cap jingling as he stood up from his chair, picking up his scepter from one of the hooks on the wall. He hurried on out, as there was no sense in keeping the Monarch waiting. Another minute wasted was another excuse for the blasted king to scream about him. No, he had enough screaming for the last few weeks. Any more and he feared he would fall into... into...
Brrr. He didn't want to think about it.
----------------------------
"HANSEL?! BLAST IT, HANSEL!" the Monarch swore, shaking a steel fist in the air. "HE'S NEVER HERE WHEN I CALL HIM THE FIRST TIME! ALL THOSE BOOKS AND HE HASN'T EVEN LEARNED TO TELEPORT WHEN I CALL FOR HIM! BLASTED MAGE!"
"Can't completely blame him," Janet said, in spite of her good judgement. "Teleportation is a tricky art for mages. Like tearing a rift into reality to try to get from one point to another, if I remember correctly. Usually mages end up with their arms lopped off trying to do it the first few times..."
The Monarch fumed, but he said nothing. He, like Janet, waited and waited and waited, until he could hear the distinct jingling of bells.
Now, Janet, when she hears about mages, she imagined them as tall, draped in dark robes, spindly fingers wrapped around an oaken staff. She imagined them as old and wizened, with the knowledge of a million years hidden behind their dark eyes. They would have a sort of aura about them, an aura of power, an aura that scares those of weak will away.
Whatever she imagined, though? It really didn't match up with the first, real life mage she saw. Especially not this one. He was tiny, only reaching her knees. His staff wasn't made of oak, but of black steel with runes carved into it, topped with a purple gem. He wore a jester hat with two branches, one a solid red and one orange with white stars, both topped with golden bells that jingled as he walked. His eyes were a bright yellow and he wore a mask of iron to obscure his face.
To top it all off, Janet was pretty sure that he wasn't human. In fact, she wasn't sure what he is at all. No creature she read about was round and yellow and wore orange shoes, with little nubs for hands.
She turned to the Monarch with her jaw agape and asked, "I...Is that truly the mage you were talking about?"
"WHO ELSE WOULD TAKE THEIR SWEET TIME GETTIN' HERE, LASSIE?" he asked indignantly, steam pouring from his back.
"My apologies, Your Majesty," the thing replied with a tinge of bitterness. "It just so happened that I was in the middle of something."
"I'm sorry," Janet said, taking another glance at the thing and the Monarch, "but, uh... isn't he a bit..."
"ON THE SHORT SIDE? PAH. SIZE DOESN'T MATTER. HIS SKILLS, HOWEVER, DO. MEET MY COURT MAGICIAN, LASSIE. CAME 'ERE JUST A FEW WEEKS AGO, SO HE'S STILL GETTIN' USED TO THE LUXURY, GWAHAHAHA!"
"Ahahaha, um, right. And could you stop calling me lassie? My name is Janet Kingston, I'll have you know!"
"AH, STUFF IT, LASSIE KINGSTON. I CALL EVERYONE LAD 'N LASSIE 'ROUND HERE. 'SCEPT HANSEL, OF COURSE. MORE OF A DOLT THAN A LAD."
"Thank you for the gracious complement, Your Majesty," Janet could hear the so-called dolt grumble.
"ANYWAY, LEAD THE LIL LADY TO HER NEW QUARTERS. SHOULD BE AN EMPTY ROOM THREE DOORS DOWN FROM YER OWN. AND NEITHER OF YOU TRY ANY FUNNY BUSINESS, UNLESS BOTH OF YA WANT TO BE SERVED FER BREAKFAST!"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Lady Kingston, if you would follow me."
Janet followed the yellow thing down the halls, making sure not to wander off anywhere else. The last thing she needed was to get lost in the castle again. The two were silent along the way, although it was more from a lack of things to say than any hostility.
Tired of the silence, the historian asked, "The Monarch's Court Magician? Quite the job you have there, don't you?"
"Perhaps," the thing replied in a bored tone. "If only it had much to do with actually casting spells and whatnot."
"You mean you don't?"
"I mean the title is merely for fluff. I spend more time scrubbing the toilets and cooking repulsive foods than I do spellcasting. Few dare to enter the castle, and those that are defiant are usually crushed into a fine paste by the Monarch himself."
"But... your magic has SOME use, right?"
"He finds me juggling cabbages to be of more use than my magic."
"He expects you to teleport."
"And I expect him to perish sometime soon, but I suppose that won't be happening. Ah, here we are..."
They stopped in front of a plain wooden door, dusty as a door could get. With a wave of his scepter, the dust flew off, and the door creaked open, allowing the two to enter.
The room really wasn't much. Just a plain wooden dresser, a small bed, a small wooden nightstand, a small desk, and an empty bookshelf was in the room. Janet could hardly hide her disappointment. She supposed she felt at home, but it would have been nice if she had a cushier room, for once. With a sigh, she sat on the bed, took off her backpack, and opened it up, setting aside her clothes and books and newspaper clippings and steel fans, as well as her ever-important notebook and pen and...
"Is that a flower pot?" the thing asked, taking a glance at it.
"Never seen one before? Because yes, that is in fact a real life, super duper, honest to goodness clay flower pot, o great magician," Janet replied. She then pulled out a bag of dirt and a bag of fertilizer, along with more pots and flowerseeds. "And these are what go in the pots! And when you water them, this big, green thing grows-"
"Don't speak to me as if I don't know what flowers are!" he snapped, stubby nubs wiggling about.
"I'm sorry, but you were in this place for a few weeks. And you're a noble. Nobles typically don't get to enjoy the outdoors."
The puff snorted, crossing his little nubs as much as he possibly could.
"I wasn't always a noble. I was a peasant once, too."
Janet nearly dropped one of the pots in surprise. He sounded a tad... wistful? And she wasn't sure if she was just imagining it, but she thought he had a distant stare, as if remembering more peaceful days. Unsure of how to reply, she started setting up the pots across the windowsill, planting the seeds and placing her fingers in the dirt.
Before their very eyes, the plants grew into little sprouts. And in an instant, the puff was lifting himself up to the window and staring in awe.
"H-how did you do that?!" he asked, turning to the girl as she worked her magic. "I've never seen anything like it!"
Janet smirked as she replied, "How do you conjure up fireballs, hmmm?"
"But this isn't simple conjuration! It's... It's... "
"Magic!" Janet couldn't help but giggle. "You don't need to know much more than that!"
"Oh."
The shaman regretted saying that, as the little thing turned away, dejected. He began to walk out until Janet called out, "Hey! Can you answer me one little thing, then?"
He turned towards her, awaiting her query.
"What exactly ARE you?"
Blink, blink. A sigh escaped the thing's lips, if he had any.
"A mockery," he answered curtly, and shut the door behind him.
Janet sighed, too, and after she put her clothes away, she laid on her bed and stared at the ceiling.
"That only raises more questions than answers... Hmm... his name was Hansel, wasn't it?"
A lightbulb turns on. The gears begin to turn.
"...Oh. Oh. OOOOOOOOOOH.
...Crap, that was him?!?"
------------------------------
&^#!, Day 30
As I was saying before I was rudely interupted, the Monarch is a brute.
And it seems I have company in the form of a particular Janet Kingston. Only heaven knows what brings her to a damned place such as this, but here she is, just three doors down from this very room. I fear that I have not given her a very good first impression of me... Then again, with this pitiful form, will I ever give a good first impression to anyone? It is not helped with the Monarch's insults grating on my mood.
She is a mysterious one, however. I saw her bring life to plants before my very eyes. Plants, in a place such as this! Not even a blade of grass can grow, either within or outside of these walls. Believe me, I have tried. And yet she makes them grow with such ease, as if they only needed mere encouragement. Such wizardry is beyond my capabilities, and I... I can hardly hold my excitement. I truly, truly wish to know more!
Perhaps I should take note to be kind to her and get to know her better. Maybe then will she open up to me her reasons for coming here, and the reasons behind those miracles she creates.
But what if she doesn't...?
But what if...
But...
...Bah, I need rest, and soon. No good will come out of overthinking things again.
I will say, though... It would be nice to have company to talk to.
No comments:
Post a Comment