“Watch out!” He screamed as he fell, knocking over a woman with a fruit basket. The orange fruit flew up into the air and several landed on the man as he got up, tossing a few coins onto the ground at the woman. He grabbed his hood, throwing it back up around his head. The door opened slightly and the man rushed inside.
Stepping into the shop was something like stepping into another world. Du-dads and thing-a-ma-bobs hung from every conceivable point of the ceiling. Small jars with unrecognizable herbs and dried animal parts lined the walls. The shop itself smelled of sandalwood and citrus, leaving an inviting fragrance hanging in the air, despite the appearance. The man looked around, poking what appeared to be a vial with rat eyes in it. The via swung back and forth gently as an older gentleman with piercing blue eyes came out from behind a tapestry.
“What can I do for you today, sir?” The smile the blue eyed man wore was more of mockery than a genuine interest in the customer. His eyes scanned the man and shook his head.
“Yes I as looking for something to help with... well... my hair.” The customer pulled his hood down to reveal his hairline.
“What hair?” The wizard couldn't help but let the mocking smile widen as he examined the man. His hairline had retreated to the back of his head, leaving a shiny, sunburned scalp.
“Yes.” The customer frowned and looked about the shop. “There in would be the issue. Can you help me?”
“Of course. The question is, whether or not you can afford it.”
“Money isn't an issue.”
“It never is, is it? You have no idea how many high powered officials come through here looking for cures, when three days before I was under threat of being shut down for unlawful magical practices. Isn't that right, Magistrate DiZara?” It was hard for the wizard to take the little man with the baldness issue seriously, and now his blood was boiling, after realizing who the man was.
“I've revoked the paperwork, what more do you want me to do Malakai?” Magistrate DiZara frowned. He always did find it ironic when he went seeking out these back alley wizards to fix his personal issues. His job was to keep the Order, well in order, bringing the illegally operating wizards to the courts to answer for their missteps.
“Don't make up false accusations to shut down a business started with the Order's approval.” He snarled, blue sparks emanating from the wizards hands. The Magistrate, backed up two steps, nearing the door, breath quickened. Malakai laughed heartily, satisfied in seeing the little mans fear.
“That will do.” He grinned and steeped behind a bench, holding out his now sparkless hand to the Magistrate. “I'll need a sample of your hair.”
“Right...” DiZara gulped and stepped cautiously towards the wizard. Malakai pulled a straight razor from the bench and in one quick flourish cut a piece from the side of DiZara's head. He took the hairs and placed them in the bottom of a glass beaker, going about the shop, pulling ingredients off the walls and from closets that DiZara hadn't even noticed before. Doors from nowhere, leading to an empty whole seemingly erected from the fabric of space and time itself, appeared and disappeared at the casters' will. An armful of vials and jars later, he began measuring and gestured for DiZara to wander off for now. The magistrate frowned and nodded, scrunching up his already wrinkled and stress-ridden face. His hair was the only thing he wanted. That was it. It wasn't too much to ask as it? He sat down on a chair made from animal skins, of unknown origin.
“You know, I don't understand you people and your vanity.” The wizard scoffed from behind the work bench.
“You wouldn't. You're beautiful. Leave it to us that -have- to worry about our looks to do so, please.” DiZara scoffed.
“You don't think that there are other things you should be concerned about?”
“Don't think that just because I'm vain...”
“Well you are here in the middle of the work day, Magistrate.” The magistrate sat silent as the accusation hung in the air. Malakai continued. “Besides ignorance, vanity is one of the biggest downfalls of society, don't you agree? Ah, but you suffer from both. Why would you be able to see that?” His rambling had become nothing more than rumblings in the background for DiZara. He dozed, letting a small snore escape before snapping himself back awake. Malakai frowned and added the final couple of ingredients to the potion.
“Here.” Malakai thrust the bottle into the Magistrate's sleepy hands. “100 gold.”
“Fine...” DiZara pulled out a small coin purse and handed it to Malakai. He weighed it and nodded, opening it up to see the glittering pieces.
“What do I do with it?”
“Drink it. If you want to sustain it's effects, you'll have to come back every moon cycle to get another dosage. Otherwise people may start to wonder. Also the effects are gradual. You won't have a full head of hair tomorrow. Mostly to avoid suspicion. You wouldn't want people thinking that you were using body modifying spells and potions, now then would you?” Malakai's eyes narrowed at DiZara, the blue slits practically damning the little man for his actions. DiZara frowned and nodded, fingering the bottle's lip nervously. He tilted it back against his lips, and pour the liquid down his throat, pulling the bottle back in disgust. It tasted awful, but then again he wasn't looking for some refreshing beverage from the wizards shop. He scratched his head frowning.
“Good day Magistrate.” The wizard said, opening the door back out onto the busy market. The magistrate pulled his hood back up and disappeared into the crowd.
No comments:
Post a Comment