Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Sleight of Hand

He performed under the name Lord Mystical and was hailed as the greatest magician since his teacher, The Great Haunter, performed decades ago. What people didn’t know was how Lord Mystical became such an incredible performer. His former teacher and mentor urged for innovation in the world of magic. Being an impatient man, Lord Mystical decided to steal it from his master, and kill him shortly afterwards. Sure, he had the charm and the showmanship, but he never had the know-how to push the boundaries of his art beyond everyone’s expectations. But he couldn’t care less.

He didn’t care so much for the limelight as he did the hundreds of eyes that looked over him on the stage. The ooh’s and ah’s were not so much the goal of his performance as it was to have fooled the audience. His perks were not the looks of wonderment and the applause; it was the fame and money. But his master has at one more lesson to teach his smug, young ingĂ©nue.

Every night Lord Mystical would take a bow, then another, then yet another after the curtains close. Normally, he would walk into a local bar and take full advantage of his celebrity and stumble back out with a dimwitted young lady beneath his arm. But something drew him backstage. The equipment from The Great Haunter seemed to whisper. Its hums were silent to everyone but Lord Mystical and lingered on the air like the smoke after a grand performance.

“There’s nothing mystical about this common lord,” a booming whisper surrounded the backstage.

“Who is that? You’re not allowed here!” Mystical demanded to know.

“Surely you remember me,” the voice insisted, “This is quite a neat trick, isn’t it?”

“Is that-” Mystical could not bring himself to say it, let alone believe it.

“I’m afraid my moniker is a bit literal in my current state,” the voice was amused,

“The Great Haunter, indeed!”

“How- How could this be happening?” Mystical asked.

“I’m afraid this is magic that can’t be taught, my former pupil.”

“What do you want? An apology? Why should I apologize? You kept the secrets to your tricks to yourself, you selfish old man!”

“I did it to force you to become better at your craft. I would have given to you eventually.”

“Lies!”

“True. I am lying. I figured, I could draw out some sympathy from that black heart of yours. You’re hardly deserving of a spot on the stage let alone my tricks.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Lord Mystical shivered as the possibility of all this being a practical joke was rapidly dwindling.

“Why, I’m here to show you one last trick.”

The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere. It was all at once in front of Lord Mystical, and behind him, on the left side, and on the right.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Behold the saddest sight of all!” The voice seemed to be coming from behind The Insubstantial Looking Glass, formerly a trick of The Great Haunter. Lord Mystical ran to it, hoping to find some prankster cowering behind it. Instead there was only air. He saw his own reflection and noticed bags beneath his eyes begin to grow. The bottoms of his cheeks began to succumb to gravity. His hair thinned into awful wire and grew whiter than snow.

“What is this, old man? Change me back!”

“If you were such a great magician, you needn’t rely on good looks alone. I definitely remember you having the charm to make a bad trick seem decent. This is just one less thing to worry about. Looks, after all, are fleeting.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to show you what a great magician is capable of doing. Here I am. You made me disappear from the face of the earth and I found a way to make my own self reappear. Houdini never needed his looks or his strength. All he needed was a crowd and the brain in his skull and he would make you believe the magic he did was real.”

“Leave me alone!” Mystical ran to the exits only to find that they had been somehow locked.

“I present to you actual magic from worlds beyond that your feeble mind couldn’t possibly comprehend and I don’t even detect a hint of fear, just arrogance.”

“Is this your trick?”

“We’re nearly done, don’t worry.” Lord Mystical began to realize that his aging was not just for appearance’s sake as the energy was being sapped straight from his bones. He tried to walk back to the middle of the room, but he stumbled upon a flat wooden table. He couldn’t remember which trick it was, he didn’t care. A wooden partition snapped into place before the aging magician could react. Above his head he could see a shimmering.

“Ladies and gentleman, I will now attempt to make Lord Mystical disappear!” The Great Haunter began to laugh a deep belly laugh. Before Lord Mystical could realize what was shimmering above his head, the guillotine had snapped clean through his now fragile neck. When the police found the decapitated corpse of an elderly man backstage, they never could figure out where Lord Mystical had gone.

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