Magic Trio x Reader ~Camigani's Corner~ 5

5: Histrionic

It was like that story, The Princess and the Pea. The queen, testing out each maiden who sought out a place to sleep and a chance at the prince’s hand in marriage, had ordered that the young ladies sleep atop a skyscraper of mattresses. Each one except the last lady had slept comfortably. The only one who didn’t was a princess. Perhaps you were a princess.

“Morning _______________,” Vladimir grinned as you walked into the kitchen area. There was a smell of boiled eggs or sulfur. You couldn’t quite tell which it was. Maybe even sulfur-preserved eggs? “Did you sleep well?”

To that, you put on a disgruntled face and rubbed your lower back. “No, I didn’t. In fact, I slept horribly. Why do you have so many mattresses?”

“Because he’s afraid of the Wogeyman,” Lukas answered, setting down his…well, it certainly wasn’t a fork.

Confused, you tilted your head. “Don’t you mean Bogeyman? And I thought it doesn’t exist.”

Vladimir feverishly shook his head. “You don’t understand. The Wogeyman is real.”

“Oh.”

He elaborated further. “It’s a fuzzy, little creature that has the ability to teleport itself from bed underside to bed underside in order to suck on the blood of unsuspecting sleepers.”

“Then just chop off the legs on your bed,” you huffed. “You think I want to climb down four flights of stairs in order to get to the bottom? Or better yet, wear shoes or something. Lukas told me the sheets are always fresh and clean in the Yonder.”

Unfortunately, Vladimir remained stubbornly put. “The beds were handed down to my from my grandmother. They are practically family heirlooms. I will not chop the legs down for that reason, nor will I put shoes on. I enjoy the comfort of my beds very much. All I have to do is take a few precautions and I won’t have to worry about the Wogeyman.”

You blinked and looked over at Lukas. “Ray-face, I suspect your beds are just right, correct?”

“Correct,” he replied without bothering to look up.

“So there,” you said, placing your hands on your hips. “Why isn’t Lukas so worried about putting a tower of mattresses on his bed while you are? I think even Arthur’s bed it shorter than his.”

“It’s because they didn’t make a pact with the Bloody Lances.”

Well, this was getting out of hand. “Bloody Lances?” you echoed with a look of disdain.

“It’s this pact that gives you the power to see into the darkness,” Lukas explained in turn for his ruby-eyed friend. “There are several pacts built within each faction of magic. You’re not exactly sworn in, but it’s also like a double-edged sword. There are good things and bad things that happen when you make oaths.

“In Vlad’s case, by making a pact with the Bloody Lances to see in the dark, he also has to worry about the creatures that come with the darkness.”

“But…then it’s entirely pointless. Why would you want to be able to see in the darkness if that will only open your way up to fear? Unless you wanted to be able to prove your worth or something...”

The stingray rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I have no idea what he was thinking.” Vladimir didn’t look like he was willing to talk. All you knew now was that he was able to see in the darkness, but that also presented him the problem of encountering those very monsters of the darkness. It didn’t sound like a fair trade at all.

“Fantastic,” you sighed. “So you can see in the dark, but I’d rather have an even vertebrae than night vision. Lukas, did you sleep comfortably, by the way?”

“I did,” came his reply.

You placed your hands on your hips. “Then I must be a princess.”

Lukas and Vladimir both looked up at you. “A princess?” Ray-face dryly laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no such thing as royalty in the Yonder, and there never will be.”

“What brought you to that conclusion?” Fruit Bat asked.

“If you’ve ever read the story, The Princess and the Pea, you would know that—” You stopped. “Have you read that story, either?” Both men shook their heads. “Never mind, then. I’ll have to remember to pick up a whole collection of fairy tales. I wonder if I will encounter more fairy tale-like references during my stay here. It’s fascinating how you’re all woven into the stories, too. Surely this place really is magic.”

“No kidding,” Lukas frowned and took a bite of some grey rubbery-looking matter with his strange utensil.
Seeing that you were watching him eat, Vladimir offered you a eat at his small, red-painted table. “Are you hungry, ______________?” he asked. “Can I interest you in some breakfast from the Yonder during your stay?”

You giggled. How strange of Arthur and Lukas to say he wasn’t the best of hosts. Besides the bed issue, he was more than happy to assist you.

“I’m pretty hungry. Maybe some food will make me better.”

“Okay! Just wait here, and I’ll get you some dragon eggs, too!”

You froze. “Dragon…eggs?”

Lukas washed down his breakfast with a sour face. You couldn’t tell if he was making that expression because of his friend’s words or because of the quality of the food.

“He’s joking, ________________,” he grunted. You noticed he used your name again. “They’re not dragon eggs. That would be illegal. It’s dragon fungus.”

“That doesn’t sound any more appetizing,” you commented.

“It’s not.”

“Oh.”

When Vladimir returned, he was carrying a plate of gray matter that looked similar to eggs baked with water and mixed into a spongy consistency—but they were gray. The smell of sulfur and boiled eggs made its way into your nose and stung your nasal passages. Your eyes began to water, and soon, you had to excuse yourself from the table to make way for a quick sneeze.

“Ker-choo!” you squeaked.

“Excuse you,” Vladimir and Lukas both said when you returned to your seat.

“Eugh,” you sniffed. “What is this stuff?”

“I told you,” Lukas said. “It’s dragon fungus. It’s a fungus native only to the lands of Eli—”

“Oh! I forgot!” your host suddenly interrupted him. “______________, do you want a twangle or a dweak?”

“Bless you,” you smiled.

“Eh?”

You blinked. “I’m sorry. I thought you sneezed.”

Lukas pressed his face to his palm.

Vladimir laughed. “Oh, I see. Twangles and dweaks are the utensils we use in this world. The twangle is like a whisk and a snare combined. The other one is like a…pipette, I guess? It stops halfway to function as a spoon of sorts to collect the soft matter it sucks up.”

Both utensils sounded complicated and almost obsolete if anything. As you watched Lukas finish up his last helpings with his twimble (or whatever it was called) he appeared to be having some trouble. And here you thought he had lived most of his life in the Yonder.

“I’ll take a dweak, then,” you said, taking the pipette-looking contraption.

“That’s fine,” your ruby-eyed host smiled a toothy smile. “It’s easier to use this one, too, but it only works for soft foods.”

“Oh.”

“It’s like a spoon.”

“But you can eat solid foods with spoons if you try,” you weakly chuckled. “You can’t really eat a piece of steak with a dweak—unless you blended it together, but you don’t have electricity here. Blended steak sounds awful.”

Both men subsequently agreed. Breakfast tasted like fizzy club soda embedded in soggy eggs overcooked to pitiful perfection. The pick-me-up substitute of coffee known as cedar’s brew had a distinct taste of gnawing on a piece of bark while downing a piping hot helping of cold medicine, a dash of cherry rum, and peculiar smidgen of spearmint.

-----

While walking along the multi-colored cobblestones back to Camigani’s Corner, you thought to get back to Lukas’ other friend he had mentioned last night. “Um, so this friend of yours, Lukas…Is it okay for people from the Yonder to stay in the Hither for a long period of time?”

“My friend?” the stingray blinked his lifeless blue eyes. Vladimir then nudged his arm. “Oh. You mean Mathias.”

“So that’s his name.” You tested it out a few times, licking your lips as though a flavor had come to you. “Mathias, Math-i-as. Ma-thi-as. He’s sort of a porcupine character, isn’t he?”

Vladimir burst out laughing. Lukas’ frowned twisted so tightly that one could have mistaken him for swallowing a lemon.

“Did I say something wrong?” you asked, stopping to let Fruit Bat catch his breath.

“No, I don’t think so,” he chuckled, clutching his stomach. “I think you said something right. He’s very much like a porcupine.”

Lukas snorted. “Just his hair. His attitude’s like a swine’s, and his brain’s the size of an earthworm’s. Useless.”

“It’s no wonder you don’t have any friends,” you smirked.

“Mathias is a businessman that runs between the Yonder and Hither,” Vladimir explained in place of his fish-faced friend. “Sometimes the Hither has faster means of transportation that the Yonder doesn’t have so he travels around there to sell supplies back and forth. In a way, he’s doing what we’re making you do times fifty.”

You giggled. “That’s a lot of me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you know anyone else who travels to the Hither?”

Vladimir didn’t even need to think about it. “Arthur’s got a sort of adopted younger brother who studies at the Hither right now. He’s working on becoming a producer or something, though I don’t really remember what it was he said. The last time we saw him, he said he wanted to be an archaeologist like a certain Indiana Jones.”

“I don’t think there are too many undead Nazi parties or Aztec-based cults that exist anymore,” you commented.

“Maybe that’s why he changed career paths.”

“We’re here,” Ray-face cut in as you approached the three and a half shops lining up to the corner of the market street. The same worn letters that spelt out “Camigani’s Corner” stood brimming in the faded glass window as you drew near. From the outside, you could already detect curious wafts of odd smells that pulled you in. It was much like the first time you had stumbled across this place.

“Funny,” you smiled. “It feels nostalgic.”

Lukas brushed away some of his bangs. “It hasn’t even been a day yet. You can’t say it’s nostalgic.”

“I think it’s fine,” Vladimir begged to differ.

Whatever the case, the three of you stepped inside the shop and saw Arthur, messy blonde hair and all, standing in front of the cash register to greet you.

“Morning, everyone,” he said with his English accent. “Considering you slept at Vlad’s place, I take it last night’s experience was interesting?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. Shortly after an exchange of experiences, Lukas and Vladimir left you to wander around the shop to discuss matters with Arthur. They couldn’t have been more than a year older than you yet they were treating you like a child.

“Don’t break anything again,” Lukas had sent you off with a parting warning before he disappeared in the back with the others.

“I’ll be careful!” you called to them. Once you were left alone, you looked back at the shelves you had knocked over the day before. Whatever Vladimir and Arthur had done to clean up the mess, they had done a splendid job. It was as if nothing had changed at all. All the shelves were up and aligned as before. The bottles were all organized by the range of moods going from jubilant joy to downright distraught depression.

“There really are a lot of D-words in the depressing dictionary,” you sighed and surveyed the state of the bottles, charms, and artifacts. You never did find a spell for concentration as you might have wanted. Perhaps while you were here, you could look around the place to see if you could find something.

Just as you were about to make your way into the other aisle, you heard a little jingling bell sound from the front of the store. It must have been a customer of the Yonder. Thinking that Lukas had to have heard the sound, you shrugged and continued to browse. He would take care of the customer if he wanted to buy something.

“My, there’s a wonderful smell in here,” you heard the person speak from the front. He had a peculiar accent. It certainly wasn’t English nor German. What was the other generic one, again?

“I wonder if it’s me…” you mumbled feeling your cheeks growing red hot. It was embarrassing knowing you smelled different to everyone in the Yonder. The smells were obviously very important and nostalgic to the given people, but a combination of coffee and fish was rather flutsering. You wondered what this customer could smell if he thought it was wonderful.

No matter, you thought and continued to browse the aisles. That was when you saw the customer walking along the same aisle as you from the other side.

“Is it you?” he asked. “You’re the one who’s making this shop smell so lovely?"

“M-Me?” you stammered. “I don’t know. Do I really smell that strong?” Suddenly, you found yourself getting flustered over the mere sight of him. Perhaps it was his elegant air or his interesting accent or maybe it was the smell he gave off. He smelled of sweet butter on an evening for autumn-style baking. The entire experience made you quite drowsy, so drowsy, in fact, that you nearly failed to hear the sound of footsteps hurrying towards you.

“Francis, you frog-face, I thought I told you that you were banned from this shop!” Arthur’s voice suddenly growled from behind. He stepped a little to the side of you and came to your front as if barring you like a knight to his princess.

“Ooh, I really feel like a princess now,” you laughed to yourself.

Vladimir came to your side, too. “What’s going o—Oh. It’s Francis.”

“Who’s Francis, Fruit Bat?” you asked.

“He’s the owner of a rival shop,” he told you. “His industry knows how to make things stylized so people want to buy them.”

“Huh. Why not just collaborate, then?” you proposed.

“Over my dead body!” Arthur snapped. He didn’t sound too bent on the idea of working with this man as elegant as he was. He really did smell nice as opposed to Lukas’ dried seaweed smell. It was funny how each person smelled differently to you.

“So you have a new little worker under your wings, Artie?” Francis asked the temporary manager of the shop.

“She’s just an assistant.”

“Just an assistant?” Francis breathed. “Why, your nose must be broken. You aren’t any bloodhounds, but you should at least know that she possesses powerful potential.”

“Three P’s,” you chuckled. “Perhaps three little pigs? That went to the…The stones!”

Everyone in the vicinity jumped.

“Gods, don’t give me such a fright, _______________!” Caterpillar Brows hissed, clutching his chest.

“We were supposed to buy stones before I went back!” you told them. “I forgot!”

“Stones?” Francis piped up. “As in for communication?”

“Yes! I’ve yet to buy them! Someone go with me!”

The rival shop owner stepped forward. “In that case, I’ll be glad to take her—”

“Buzz off!” Arthur snapped. It was a stark contrast to his previously composed gentlemanly nature. So this was an entirely different side of him. “The shop is closed for the day! Get out! We’ll all buy the stones with her ourselves!”

“Huh?” you blinked.

“Are you serious?” Vladimir looked up at his friend. "Huh. Beats counting stocks, I guess."

“Get Lukas,” he snapped and began to herd Francis towards the door. “I’m going to lock up for the day."

“Really…” you nervously chuckled. “What’s going on? You could have just told me where to go, and I would have gone by myself.”

“Not a chance,” Arthur huffed. “You owe us, remember? If you don’t want a fat fine stickered to your account, then you’ll do what we say.”

“Erm, okay? But I told you that I won’t participate in prostitution, drugs, and/or scandalous—”

“Yes, we got that the first time,” Ray-face’s dull voice came into hearing range. At this point, Francis was outside of the shop, and like magic, he was locked out of the store without the presence of a lock. It might have been real magic, actually.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “I don’t get it. What could I do to help make magical products? I don’t know how to do magic.”

“Your pact-inducing abilities are very high,” Arthur told you. “Vlad already told me you know about it. If that’s the case, then you might be able to make exceptions when making deals. In turn, you can become a very powerful tangible magic-wielder.”

“But I don’t want to worry about Wogeyman creatures or losing my ability to lift things off shelves or needing to eat lemon drops every Thor-day,” you pouted. The problems were very specific when making pacts, Vladimir told you, but they were still inconveniences.

“That’s the thing,” Arthur added. “Because your magic potential is so high, you might not need to worry about those things.”

“So why don’t you have me making pacts and charms if it’s better than being a delivery girl?”

The temporary manager scratched his forehead. “Well, since you’re someone from the Hither, it’s against our policies to so something like that without any jurisdiction. We’re also not the real owners of this shop so it’s out of our power.”

“Oh. But wait. If I’m able to earn back the profits with more enhanced magical charms, then perhaps I won’t have to stay here for so long.”

Then, from the corner of your eye, you saw Vladimir’s pools of ruby-red shimmer like a puppy. “You mean…you don’t want to stay with us for six months?”

“Six months is a long time,” you smirked. “Even for me.”

“But…!”

“Shouldn’t we be on our way to the shop to pick up the stones?” Lukas asked.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Yes, you’re right. We’re all going.”

You thought it was strange. “Why?”

Fruit Bat grinned. “It takes three Yonders to protect a Hitheran. One needs to notice the problem, one has to do something about the problem, and one gets the credit.”

“But can’t all three options be done by a single person?” you thought in contrast to his claim. “I’ve seen it happen several times in stories and in real life.”

Vladimir shrugged. “Who knows? It’s bound to happen on our way if we encounter any more magic-smelling extraordinaires. Too bad we can’t do anything to hide your smell.”

Lukas, on the other hand, cleared his throat. “There is a way, but I’m not so sure if it will work after yesterday’s failure.” You hadn’t forgotten about the chocolate incident.

“Oh, yes. There is,” Arthur acknowledged. “I say it’s worth a shot.”

Unsure of whether or not it was safe, you glowered at the trio. “It does involve anything suspicious, does it?”

“No,” Vladimir immediately followed up. “But it does have something to do with candles, a lantern full of frankincense above your head, and a dead rat.”