Jerimiah Stilley

A golden carriage is pulled along a winding, overgrown path. The forest's roots threaten to strangle the narrow pathway. Inside the illustrious carriage, a man dressed in fine, silken robes sits.  His eyes stare deep into the heart of the forest, his mind elsewhere. Atop his head sits an ornate, heavy gold crown. Its edges dig sharply into his head. Abruptly, the carriage stops. 

The man steps out into the light of the setting sun. A dark shadow creeps over the land as the carriage parks itself in front of a massive wooden tower. The tower creates a break in the otherwise impenetrable woods; it’s made from a dark polished wood non-native to the forest surrounding it. The man walks towards the entrance of the dark tower, unafraid of what is inside. Not a sound can be heard except for the crackling of the carriage's torches and the neighing of the two horses that pulled the carriage.

He reaches the entrance of the tower; there is no door. In place of a door there is a large, circular indentation. The circle is made of a bone-like material. As the man reaches his hand out, the bone crumbles away. He enters the surprisingly well-lit interior of the tower. The bone reforms behind him. The tower is well-furnished and decorated with beautiful works of art. In place of the staircase, the center of the tower has a winding tube. The tube is made of sanded, grainy wood. A towering form crawls out.

Standing before the man is the owner of this tower: a skeletal homunculus. The creature has four arms and four legs and wears a dark, flowing robe. Two of the arms stick out of the top of its back, large and muscular, while the other two droop on its chest and appear sickly. The creature moves closer to the man with its two front legs, both large and powerful while it drags the other pair of weak legs. The creature gives off the look of a squished spider as it moves across the ground. The man stands firmly planted as the creature lowers its head to look at him. The creature's face is a mix of pale flesh and bone. The bone is covered in an ornate golden trim and the monster has no eyes. The creature's mouth has been sewn shut with a golden thread. It begins to speak.

“Most run at the sight of me. I am surprised you're not shaking.” The creature says.

The man stares into the creature's hollow eye sockets. “I would have not come all this way if I was going to run away at the first sight of your appearance!” His voice echoes through the quiet tower.

The creature retreats from the man and says “I have received your letter and prepared your request. We can discuss payment if you find the product satisfactory.” 

“You work quickly, Sorcerer. I wasn't expecting you to be finished," He says.

The Sorcerer smiles as the gold threads holding its mouth sealed strain. “Your request ignited a great passion within me I haven't felt in a long time. I have been working on it day and night since receiving your letter,” The Sorcerer said.

“I would love to see your work! How will I get up?” The man points at the wooden tube.

“Simple. I will carry you,” The Sorcerer says, outstretching its arms.

The man hesitates, but allows the creature to carry him. The creature's small arms are surprisingly warm and gentle to the touch. It picks him up with great ease and carries him into the slide. The creature's powerful front legs and upper arms allow it to scale up the tube with great speed and ease. The odd coupling emerges at the very top of the tower to the creature's main workspace. The workspace looks as if a small hurricane passed through it. Papers lie scattered about each with countless formulas and indecipherable chicken scratch written in black ink. Strange test tubes dot the area. In one corner of the room there is a large, fleshy, split-open sac; pink fluid leaks out of it. The man, however, is unconcerned with all this as his eyes are focused on what lies at the center of the room. Strapped to a table is the most beautiful woman the man has ever seen—as if she were pulled from his dreams. The man slowly inches his way toward her as she lies in a deep sleep. His eyes are unable to look away from his fulfilled request.

The Sorcerer breaks the silence. “I assume my work is to your liking? I designed her exactly to your specifications.” 
	
The man swallows. “Very much so. What is your price?” He asks, his eyes never leaving the woman.

The Sorcerer smiles once again. “My price is simple. I desire the crown upon your head, and in exchange, she is yours.” 

The man’s gaze on the woman is broken as his head snaps towards the creature. “My crown?! Why would you want that?” The man asks. 

“I am a collector. This particular project I have grown attached to. I would add her to my collection, but I believe your crown would make an excellent substitute. I am also a thing of my word, and I always deliver a request,” the Sorcerer says.

The man's eyes dart back to the woman, then the sorcerer. He takes off his crown and hands it over. The sharp edges of the crown cut the man's hand. A single drop of blood lands onto the floor. He picks up the woman, wrapping her in his silken robe. Beneath his robe he wears a simple cloth shirt. The Sorcerer guides them back to the tube and bows deeply. The man holds the woman tightly as he slides down the tube. He carries her through the bone passage of the tower. The King emerges triumphantly into the last light of the setting sun as a warm breeze passes through the forest. The King carries his Queen between his arms.