Prompt: The Signature | Word Count: 1000 Words Exactly | Genre: Comedic Fantasy
Due: October 9, 2019
Two Wizards in a Bar by Peggy Rockey
“Must we have this conversation again, Jarvin? Can we not just admit that we both miscalculated and stop trying to assign blame for our predicament?”
“Absolutely not! I’ll not let you off so easily. You will recall, Niall, it was not I who cast the containment spell, but...”
“Yes, Yes! I fully admit my mishap. But. If you hadn’t deflected my spell it would have contained our enemy, rather than ourselves. Why must we go over this every time we awaken? Could we not rather discourse on methods to win free of this ensnarement? Would that not be a more productive use of our time?”
“Very well. As long as you acknowledge it was your spell that trapped us here in the first place.”
“Argh! You are the most pig headed wizard I have ever had the misfortune of acquainting myself with. How I have endured the last millennia with you in such close quarters is quite beyond me.”
“There is rather a deplorable lack of distance separating us, I accede. Very well. What spells did you have in mind that we haven’t already tried that could free us from our entrapment? We’ve already tried spells of enlargement and spells of shrinkage; spells of disintegration and of redirection, all with no effect.”
“The sending spell did little to help either, sending us only to opposite sides of the tree. Banishment and teleportation spells had similar effect. It seems we are well and truly trapped.”
“We could try a plane shift, and attempt to transport ourselves elsewhere.”
“That works only with physical contact, with the linking of hands. Impossible in our current incorporeal state.”
“We could try a binding spell.”
“Do you not recall that butcher we attracted with our first binding?”
“He was not a butcher; he was a woodsman.”
“Woodsman, butcher. Whatever. He chopped our tree down.”
“Well, yes. But it should have succeeded in releasing us. How was I to know it would simply reduce the space in which we are trapped?”
“Quite right. And lying there on that forest floor for all those decades, I fully expected natural decay to have eroded away our prison.”
“It may well have done, had we not tried the binding spell again, and bound that carpenter to us.”
“The table he constructed is exquisite, though, wouldn’t you agree?”
“It is indeed, although I believe one would call this a bar, rather than a table. Perhaps he intended it to go to a public house.”
“It’s far too small for a pub. I can’t imagine more than three or four people leaning upon it. Shhh! Jarvin. What noise do I hear?”
A knock sounded from across the dimly lit room. Heavy footsteps passed nearby, the creaking of a door and the jangling of bells, followed by daintily clicking heals.
“Ah, Miss Dupree! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“I’ve come to ask about your matching bar and mirror. I’ve admired them through your window for quite some time. Are they made of the same wood? The color and sheen is exquisite, the burl quite unique.”
“Indeed. Can you imagine the agitation that must’ve gone on inside this tree to have produced such burl? It truly is amazing furniture. You’ve a fine eye, Miss Dupree."
“Please. Call me Carol Lynne. I’d like to buy these for my home. What’s the asking price?”
“Hmm, I don’t exactly recall. I have them on consignment, you see. If you’ll excuse me for one moment, I’ll just go and have a look.”
Booted footsteps receded across the room.
The woman approached the bar, laying a cool hand upon it’s surface.
Niall began the binding spell without hesitation. “Carolin Dupree, we call you by name. In the calling we bind ourselves to thee.”
Jarvin continued. “With this binding, we empower you to raise your hand in summons.”
Niall said, “Do it now, Carolin Dupree. Raise your hand and summon us to thee.”
Nothing happened. The woman neither twitched nor responded in any way.
“Drat! We must not have her true name, Jarvin. Did we not hear it correctly?”
“I’m sure she said Carolin.”
The other man returned, a book in one hand, pen in the other. The wizards listened with interest as the man and woman negotiated the price of the furniture; he reiterating its fine qualities, she pointing out non-existent flaws in the design.
Eventually they agreed on a price, to be collected upon delivery to her home. The man set his notebook upon the bar and scratched out a receipt, querying the woman for the address. He turned the paper towards the woman, handing her the pen.
“If you will just sign here…”
Both wizards held their breath, poised with anticipation as she signed her name in large, cursive letters.
Carol Lynne Dupree
With high hopes, and a patience born of long ages, the wizards watched the woman depart.
After a short interval involving a rather jarring transportation, the be-spelled furniture now stood within a spacious room in Carol Lynne’s home. The bar in one corner, free standing mirror in the opposite.
Jarvin began the binding as soon as the woman was alone in the room. “Carol Lynne Dupree, we call you by name. In this calling we bind ourselves to thee.”
She twitched visibly.
Niall said. “With this binding, we empower you to raise your hand in summons.”
Her hand rose involuntarily, green eyes widening, pupils constricting and dilating wildly.
“Do it now, Carol Lynne Dupree,” Jarvin completed the spell. “Summon us now that we may stand and gaze upon thee.”
A whirlwind swept the wizards up in a crazy, chaotic dance and they chortled in gleeful anticipation. When the spinning stopped, they were indeed free of the bar, standing and gazing upon the woman as the binding commanded. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror, seeing right through them as if they weren’t there at all.
“Jarvin, you idiot!” Niall despaired. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”