The Magic Show

Djurle Iranu arrived at the ukitu refugee camp in Thruf around the sixth hour. For three months he had traveled from town to town across the Plains of Greater Higlain, following the trail of refugees seeking shelter from the living nightmares that were the warring armies of Krundíl and the united kingdoms of Stogh. 

Djurle rubbed the gravelly shoulders hidden under his cloak. There were times when he missed the smooth skin of his youth. Having rocks grow out of it was not something he would have believed was possible when he was a child. His natural rock armor had proven itself useful time and time again, and he believed it would prove itself again soon.

A memory surfaced in his mind as the monotonous beat of Crispus' hooves stepping through the grass caused him to lose focus.

Djurle. Please. I don't care about the spirit of fire stuff, I don't care about what happened here, but I won't be able to live with myself if... I already lost Lynetta, I can't...

Yorlan’s face welled with tears as the rest of his words were choked in his throat. Djurle hugged his friend tightly and said,

Yorlan, I promise you, if it's the last thing I do…

I'll bring your kid home.

9 years ago he made that promise. He thought about it every day. He was hunting rumors of ukitu who showed up out of the blue, hoping, praying, begging The Maker that it was Yorlan’s kid.

It never was.

It was always them.

Tents were set about randomly. Hardly any paths existed for riding. Fear was the predominant emotion held by all those who lived in these types of camps. He saw a pair of ukitu fighting over scraps of food. Some tried to stop them, others tried to steal the scraps for themselves. 

For a group as diverse and different as the ukitu, it was amazing to see how alike they all were to humans. Still desperately trying to survive. 

A woman's voice caught Djurle's attention. 

“Tylee!? Tylee!? Where are you!?”

Djurle turned his horse Crispus towards the panicked voice until he saw an ukitu with frazzled blonde hair which shined and shimmered unnaturally. The distressed woman was wearing a padded shirt with short sleeves and thick riding pants that had worn out at the knees. Her skin was translucent, her veins also seemed to glow.

"Excuse me sir, have you seen my daughter? Her hair looks like mine, she has yellow eyes, and-and freckled cheeks!”

“No ma'am, I only just arrived at the camp a few hours ago. Haven't even set up my tent yet.”

The woman's green eyes began to well up with tears. She began to wander further into the camp.

“No, no, where is she!? Tylee!?”

Djurle knew what had happened before she even walked away. This was the third occurrence of this since he'd arrived. 

Those bastard poachers are definitely here. The question is, how many?

Djurle had discovered in his travels a few things.

First, the poachers, as Djurle had taken to calling them, were always sent out in groups.

Second, they were sent from Krundíl to “recruit” people from among the ukitu. They don't discriminate by age, or by ancestral tie, only how easy it is to get them cornered.

Third, from his fights, every single one of them possessed abilities not unlike his own, though they were significantly weaker. They were like faux spirits. Djurle could take them on easily in one-on-one combat, But they grew more dangerous in numbers.

There was no way to tell from a camp this size where to even begin searching for them. He had no contacts in the camp, no point of reference. He had to find who was in charge so he could gather information. Or at the very least, someone who had some sway. But first he needed a place to lay his head for rest. The months on horseback were exhausting, even taking his stops at the other towns into account. Djurle would be useless if he was too tired to focus, and right now that's what he was.

Djurle explored the camp, hoping to find some place where he could set up his tent. It was all for naught. The camp was densely packed. Years of refugees had taken all the good spots. The faces of all the refugees were sad and dejected, there was no hope among them, no joy. Djurle was beginning to get frustrated.

Boulders too big to move were littered throughout the region. He could easily clear it if he could find one in an area that suited his taste. Doing so would definitely draw attention.

Draw attention…

Wait… I have an idea.

Another hour of wandering led him to a central Boulder of decent size. It was obvious, and plenty of people were around. Children were playing near and climbing all over it.

Perfect.

Djurle rode up near the large boulder. He shouted out to all the children, “Hey kids! Get down from there real quick, if you would please!”

Some of the youngsters looked over to Djurle.

“Buzz off old man, this is our climbing rock!” They shouted back.

Rude, Djurle thought to himself. But, fair.

“Trust me, you'll want to get down, I've got something amazing to show all of you and I need you all down here to see it!”

The parents of the children who were watching nearby had mixed reactions, some got uptight and began to sneer at him. Others were curious as to what he was up to.

Djurle put on his best performance voice and began to say, “come one, come all to see the great and glorious Granite Magician, Djurle Iranu!”

The nearby crowd began to mutter among themselves. “A magician? Here?”

“I saw him once!”

“Never heard of him.”

“Wait, it can't be.”

“The heck is a granite magician?”

The children especially were interested once they learned about Djurle's 'magician' status.

Good. Gather up. Word of this needs to get out. 

Djurle continued for some time, calling out to the people and the children to create his audience. After he'd gotten everyone off of the rock and a crowd had formed, he knew it was time to begin. The rest of the spectators would come once his freshly improvised performance started.

“Behold, I am Djurle Iranu!” He took off his traveling cloak to reveal his peppered gray hair, the vest he had underneath, and exposing his rocky arms and stone-armored chest.

"Today I am here to show you a wonder, a marvel, nay a miracle! For I am the great and mighty Granite Magician, and today all shall bear witness to this glorious deed!”

The crowd thrummed as Djurle continued to advertise himself.

This should be enough for now.

“Quiet now, if you please, for it is now that I begin my show!”

After a moment of pure silence, Djurle Began. He stepped off of his horse and picked up a chipped pebble from the dirt. 

“Children, I ask you this. What is it that I am holding in my hand?”

Some of the children looked at him, puzzled.

"A rock?”

“Ah yes, it would appear so wouldn't it. But what kind of rock?

One gurnian child in particular, an ukitu with what appeared to be gray fish-scaled skin and blue hair spoke up,

“Uhh.. a normal rock?”

“Are you so sure about that young one, would you like to look at it a little closer?”

Djurle nonchalantly tossed the rock over to the child. As it traveled through the air, the rock came to a complete stop before returning to Djurle's open palm.

A gasp came from the children and adults alike. 

“Oh, my mistake. It must be shy. Allow me to try again, hold out your hand please.”

The boy hesitantly held out his hand. Djurle made a big show of winding up his hand to throw the rock again.

“Here we go, are you ready?”

The boy nodded.

“One… two… and three!”

Djurle tossed the rock over again, only this time it shifted directions a foot away from his hand, sailing straight up into the air.

“Woaaaah!” The children all cheered. A few of the adults realized immediately what was going on. Others would need more convincing. 

“Now where did that go off to,” Djurle asked, looking into the air. “Oh well, if that rock doesn't want to participate,” he began to bend over, “perhaps this one-” the rock fell out of the sky, bouncing off his shoulder with a sharp clatter. He didn't feel it, but he made an exaggerated wince. The rock then orbited around his head, playfully. 

“Oh, there you are! I was just getting worried.”

The rock jiggled in front of Djurle's face as if talking

“So now you want to participate, afraid to lose your job? Or just jealous of the competition?”

The rock struck his chest.

“Hey, be nice, I'm only joking. Now, be a good rock and go visit our new friend.” Djurle pointed at the boy. The rock danced over to the blue haired boy. It began to zip and twist around him, circling his body and dashing between his arms and legs. The boy giggled.

“I think it likes you now that it's gotten close. Hold out your hand, don't worry it won't hurt you.”

The boy quickly held out his hand. The rock spiraled up the length of his arm and stopped above his palm, spinning in place for a second before dropping into his hand. The audience began to clap.

“Give It up for the rock and his new boy!”

The crowd cheered much louder.

Djurle would continue to do similar tricks, juggling rocks, changing their shapes before their eyes, telling stories of love and joy with them. For two hours he performed. When his voice began to falter, someone brought him water to moisten his throat.

Finally after dazzling the crowd, which had tripled in size since he began, he said to the refugees “And now, for my final and most wonderous act! You have seen them dance, sing and play, but now I shall make one vanish from before your very eyes! And to prove that this is no simple sleight of hand, I have elected to use a much more…” he turned dramatically to the boulder. “Improbable rock.”

He stepped over to the boulder and placed his hand against the side. As he began to walk around dragging his hand across it, Djurle could feel the anticipation of the crowd rise higher and higher.

“What better way to end tonight than with a classic disappearing act?”

Sand began dripping down the lines where Djurle's fingers dragged.

“The staple of the magician, the most famous of their tools.”

He took his hand off the boulder.

“But I can't do it alone, I need all of you to help me in this fantastic feat! I shall count to three, and all of you shall shout ‘BEGONE BOULDER!’

Let's practice, shall we?

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

The whole crowd yelled “Begone boulder!”

“Come now I've heard your cheers, you can be way louder. Let's try again!

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

The whole crowd yelled “BEGONE BOULDER!”

“There we go, just like that! Now for the real thing. Are you ready?”

“YEAAAH!!”

“On the count of three! One!”

The crowd began to count.

“Two!”

Djurle raised his hand back.

“Three!”

The whole assembly screamed “BEGONE BOULDER!” and Djurle Struck the rock with an open palm.

First the boulder split in two, which in itself was amazing on its own. Then with a yell, he twisted his hand and both halves turned into sand before their very eyes. 

If that doesn’t get their attention, I don’t know what will.

The crowd went wild. After almost a minute of cheering, Djurle began to speak once again.

“Behold! The Great and Glorious Granite Magician, the Spirit of Earth! Djurle Iranu!”

A shout rose up louder and longer than the first.

“And now my show is complete. I must set up my tent, for I intend to stay for some time. May you all have a wonderful and exciting day! And to you young ones who are sad for your climbing rock, I'll be putting something better in its place shortly.”

The crowd began to disperse, the children mostly running to their families.