Agatha, an elf woman with pointy ears, peach colored skin, long white hair and green eyes, sat in a burgundy robe on a plush burgundy chair, reading a book from behind half-circle spectacles. The store had many books in its shelves: many about magic, some about survival, some stories, some about artificing or engineering, perhaps the most books in one place for 50 miles…after all this was a backwater colony in The Badlands. And Agatha’s shop was a little down a dirt side road from the slightly wider dirt main road of the colony. Today was a day just like any other- boring, and that’s just the way she liked it. Peace and quiet compared to all the damnable politics.
The only bad thing that occasionally happened was some sort of beast would wander into town. That was how Agatha had earned her place among the commoners here- she had been viewed as an outsider before she “saved the colony” from an oversized insect. Agatha still chuckled when she thought about it. And now the relationship was as follows- Agatha rarely, if ever, had any customers, and that she didn’t mind. But unlike before if she made a trip down the main street to get supplies there wouldn’t be ominous looks and whispering following her path…
As you may have gathered, in many respects, Agatha was not what she appeared, and that may have been in part due to her nature since she was a natural Illusionist. That and she was pretty damned good artificer, as indicated by the non-literature inventory: baubles that could light up if you shook them, music boxes, smoke bombs, toys that could fly or dance, and a hundred others. Agatha appeared somewhat younger than she really was, and there was a bit of a glow about her, a small charm she used on herself, but her hair color was likely natural. Still, her appearance had gained her some attention in the past, much to her inward giggling at her foolish pursuers.
A cup of tea floated to Agatha’s desk, spilling over just a bit as it set down on a coaster. “Ugh, look what you did!” Agatha said, halfheartedly pretending to be irritated.
“Oh, did I spill some?” Trisha shrugged as she orchestrated a broom to sweep the floor and a feather duster on the shelves. “And just when I thought I could control three things at once…”
Agatha held her book up to her face to hide her smile. That child is a damned prodigy.
After the encounter with the creature, a few days later Agatha heard the bell to her shop ring as someone walked in. No one ever walked in, so this was sort of a surprise. It was a human mother and her daughter, by the look of things. Both of them were looking around the store wide eyed- the older one with fear but the younger one with a sense of wonder.
“May I help you?” Agatha said, trying to be polite.
It took the mother a minute to collect herself. “Yes, well, maybe…”
Agatha waited, patiently.
“You see, my niece…she can do things…magic things. Nobody in our family is like that. I thought that…well I heard what you did for the colony the other day…and I thought you might help?”
Aunt, not mother…
Agatha raised one eyebrow and looked at the child, eyes full of wonder. It took her back to her childhood a bit to see that innocent curiosity about the world. She walked over to the child, who must have been ten years old.
Agatha said, kindly “Can you show me?”
The little girl took out a small red ball and stared at it. It lifted and pushed itself into Agatha’s hand. Ah, a Telekinetic.
“You want me to teach her?”
“Yes, I think so. So she can control it.”
Oh, she’ll MORE than control it.
“In return…” Agatha said, looking at the child. “You have to cook and clean for me.”
The child just grinned, struck out her hand, and said “Okay!”
I already like this one.
The aunt hesitated “I’m not sure-”
Agatha got up and swept the aunt out of the building in a torrent of speech “Yes, well that’s all fine and good. Very nice. A deal is a deal you know, I’ll send her home or you can pick her up at sunset. She’s safe with me. Good day!”
Agatha shut the door on a “But-” and turned around. “So, what is your name?”
Pretty name…now to test her resolve. “I am Agatha. And this is Broom. Get a sweepin’!”
Presently, a broom floated by, sweeping up against the inevitable tide of brown badlands dust. Trisha, the 14 year old girl with shoulder-length brown hair, green eyes, and a genuine smile bobbed past, telekinetically controlling the broom and a feather duster on the shelf simultaneously. Agatha smiled wistfully She sees right through my old tricks…but it’s still fun to try and make her feel guilty now and then.