The Alchemist and the Djinni

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    Chapter 1

    Art walked down the crowded dirt street, people bustling here and there among the shops and stalls of Glenhaven. His pack was slung over his back with the few things he owned, and his red hair shown in the noon sun. Art was twelve years old and had lived in an orphanage since he was 1 year old.
    “oh, boy” he thought”how am i going to make a good impression? Beth always said i’d never amount to anything!”
    Finally, he came upon a small wooden shop. He looked up at the sign hanging over the doorway. it read: “Ptolemicus Candles”.
    He walked in and looked around. Candles of all shapes and sizes were shelved against every wall and in every corner. It was rumored that Ptolemicus was more than just a candlemaker, that his candles were magical. In the back of the shop, he saw a portly man sitting behind a counter. The man looked up from a notebook.
    “ah! you must be Artimaeus! i’m Ptolemicus! pleased to meet you! let me take your bag!”
    Art had been sent to be an apprentice to many artisans and such, but all had turn him away, saying he was “no intelligent enough” or “too skinny”.
    So far Ptolemicus seemed nice enough. Art would have to wait and see.
    “Let me show you around” said Ptolemicus”here” he gestured to a wall of candles “are special candles. they are enchanted to give off various fragrances, such as sleep or love potions. i have many others, but they are not worthy of our short time. Follow me.” he took Art through a curtained doorway and into a hall, which was surprisingly bare of candles. They went into a doorway at the back. Ptolemicus opened the door.
    Art’s jaw dropped. Covering the walls of the back room were racks and racks of wax human figures. Some were as small as three inches, while others were at least seven feet tall.
    “These, my boy,”said Ptolemicus”are my golems. they are sold in strict secrecy exclusively to a chosen few clients. Do not be fooled; I do not deal with devilry, nor are these lifeless statues. Now. come.”
    He led Art up a winding staircase to a hall with doors going down it’s length.
    “the fifth door is your room for the night, but until then, i’ll show you how i arrange my candles.”

    He had shown Art the basics, and now art was busy arranging paper packages to be delivered tomorrow. He had always been the odd one, the one no one invited for a game. It could have been his red hair, but no. Annie’s hair was red too. She had been the chief bully.
    His train of thought was cut off by a sudden opening of the door.
    “Quick, boy! stand tall! this is one of my main suppliers!”exclaimed Ptolemicus.
    The first thing he noticed about the stranger was his leather boots, which shown in the candle light. Art looked up along the man’s dark trench-coat (obviously expensive), and up to his tunic. it was black, with a white pentacle embroidered on the chest. Art drew in a quick breath when he saw the face. The head was clean shaven, and three scars ran along the right side of the stranger’s face. But it was the right eye that caught Art’s attention. It was made entirely of wax. But the strange thing was (for people with missing a missing eye often got a fake one, if they could afford it), the eye could see him.


    Herr D

    Hey! Where’s the next chapter?

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