Novel Treatments / Dreamer Part Two
Flint Bracks opened the back door of his shop to sweep the dust out into the alleyway, and took a quick peek at the “Ring of Light” to see how much time remained before he should open. The “Ring of Light” a one-foot thick ring of crystal circling the largest stalagmite column in the center of the city, rose slowly from the floor growing brighter as it ascended getting brightest when it reached the ceiling five-hundred feet up. Growing dimmer as it descended, providing light and time for the citizens each day. It provided enough light for the city to forgo the need of torches and lamps. Its power was replenished once a year by the Wizard in a ceremony call “The Festival of Renewal”.
He estimated he had just enough time to finish the angel’s wings. The dedication to the new park would begin by the unveiling of the statue and the starting of the new fountain. Flint, surprised by getting the contract, had spent all free time working to make everything perfect. The entire city would be watching, so he had to make sure nothing went wrong. This was his opportunity to prove that his father, the best stone carver the city had ever known, had taught his son well. This was, at least for Flint, to be a monument in his father’s honor. After his parents death, some in the city thought his shop needed to be given to the guild and for Flint to work it as an apprentice. That may well have happened had not the King stepped in and prevented it. Flint did not think about the why for it brought too many other questions. A knocking at the front door interrupted his final inspection of the statue, but the thought of a possible buyer this early in the day brought excitement and put a smile on his face.
He unlocked the door letting in a woman and two girls.
“Good morning to you, Ladies. Welcome, how may I be of service to you?”
The woman, wearing a dress of shimmering cloth, a diamond necklace and a diamond bracelet with a scattering of emeralds attached, entered without replying, turned her head left then right until she saw the section she was looking for. “This way girls,” she said. Flint followed the three down the isle and stopped when they came to the section featuring figurines and music boxes. As he waited, a spark of recognition came to him. She was the wife of Merchant Prazzy who had bid against him for the fountain contract. The moment of joy and all thoughts of a buyer ceased. He knew she was here just to see what his shop had that her husband’s did not and to evaluate his skill and the quality of his work.
“If you need any help, I shall be at the counter,” Flint said, excusing himself. There was no need to stand by for there would be no purchase made. He did not fail to see or hear the snickering of the two young girls as he walked away. From the counter, he watched as Mrs.Prazzy moved up one isle and down another, carefully examining each item as she passed. This went on until the woman reached the end of the last isle then turned to the girls.
“I’ve seen everything I came to see. Let’s go, girls, we’re done here.” Without another word, she left taking her charges with her. Flint let out a long slow sigh before heading back to his shop. Although the money he would receive for the fountain would put him in the black for the year, it seemed as if business had dropped off more than usual and he wondered if it had anything to do with the other merchants. It was against the law for one merchant to sabotage another’s business; it was also very hard to prove. He knew the quality of his work was as good as the other craftsmen, for his father had taught him and his father had been the best. There were still a few pieces of his fathers work on display, but these items were encased behind sealed glass and were not for sale.
As he nibbled on his lunch in the back of the store, he leaned back in his chair, contemplating his next project. The statue was on its way, where it would be installed in the center of the fountain. Now there was nothing pressing, work wise anyway, that needed his attention. He was sure business would pick up after the ceremony at the park. Everyone would see the quality of his stonework and his shop would be full of customers. He thought about closing the store early and taking off but there was always his father’s voice in the back of his mind telling him that only the lazy merchant would close his doors early. This would be a good time, he decided, to clean out the back corner of the shop where all the scrap pieces were tossed. Snagging an empty crate on his way to the back, he inspected each piece for usefulness before tossing it in the crate to be dumped later. Once all the smaller stuff was looked over, he started on the larger pieces. Most of these he decided could be used for other things. The one-inch thick slap of white marble caught his eye and he stoop to pick it up; it was a heavy piece measuring twelve inches long and fourteen inches wide.
The side facing up was smooth and polished to a bright shine, the other was rough and dull with a slightly raised center. There was no telling how long the piece had been in the corner waiting patiently until being found again and used. Flint laid it smooth side down on the workbench before tackling the rest of the corner.
The shop was rearranged and clean by the time light outside the shop gave way to deep shadows. This, having been the slowest day of the year, had given him time to do some cleaning and he chocked it up as a good thing. Flint locked all the doors, then placed a small backpack, some lumber and his hammer beside the backdoor. Taking one last look around he blew out the light and made his way to his room in the dark. In bed, he thought about the days ahead. What worried him was the amount of attention he would be receiving after the festival. For business, it would be great, but the thought of having all the attention, the eyes of everyone on him caused his nerves to tingle. He switched his thoughts to the fountain, thought about going over at first light and checking out the installation just to make sure all was working okay. He thought about the woman, his one and only visitor today, and about the slab of granite he had found. He was thinking about everything he could, so sleep would be a long time in coming. Not that he did not need the sleep, on the contrary, he needed sleep but of the long, all the way through the night peacefully type of sleep. Instead, he dreamed of disasters every night over the last year. At first the healer had told him it was his minds way of dealing with the death of his parents. Flint accepted that theory at first, but then the dreams progressed, becoming more detailed, showing how and sometimes when someone was going to die. He would have continued seeing the healer, if the first vivid dream of a child’s death, then going to the place of his dream and actually seeing the child fall and die, had not shown him that he could have prevented it.
He jerked upright in his bed tossing the covers aside, as the silent scream of “NO” still echoed in his head. His feet hit the floor before the covers stopped moving. Reaching for his pants, his mind clouds over as if he is going to pass out. He grabbed the bedpost to steady himself, took a few deep breaths and had to visibly relax before the fog lifted from his mind. Breathing easier, he saw that his hands still shook as he put on his shirt.
At the back door, he stopped and picked up the backpack and hammer. There was no need for the lumber this night. Once out of the alley and on the street, Flint headed toward the old section of the city. One section was part of the original city, and though the people have tried to keep it up and make it safe, too many things happen and not everything can be foreseen.
He reached the old section, stopping only when he reached the area known as “Makillian Park” named so after the first King. In the center of the park stood an old oak almost as old as the city itself, with branches aged and covered in moss. The tree rose eighty feet and was the place where all the kids came to show off their courage and start their journey from being a kid to a young man. Flint looked at the old tree and closed his eyes seeing again that portion of the dream giving him the location of the branch waiting to give way under the weight of the next young child. Taking a deep breath and making sure the backpack was secure, he began his climb. Half way to the top, he stopped, slipped the pack off his shoulder and dug inside, to pull out a small but very sharp hatchet. It took a little work but soon the branch was on its way to the ground, crashing and breaking into multiple pieces when it hits. With the pack on his shoulders, Flint made his way back to the ground and headed home knowing that another child was safe from harm, at least in this case. He failed to notice the slim form moving from shadow to shadow behind him, stopping first at the fallen branch before continuing.
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
Dreamer part 2
I can only review what is randomly selected-I’ll likely see part one later-they seem to pop up in reverse
I was wondering about the ring when I read part 3-sounds a bit like the New Years ball of light in reverse-very unique concept-good visual
Describe the angel statue-you establish its importance without us seeing it-keep up the imagery
Dress of shimmering cloth might change colors as light hits it at different angles-or not
Left and right until sort of implies multiple times-till or then suggest turning her head once-unless you wanted multiple, but it makes the character seem a bit ditzy
As before I would like a better description of the shop-art gallery
what do characters faces look like-describe sculptors hands-they do belong to a craftsman
add one more line about the snickering girls-more details-same for items Mrs Prazzy examines-read face to tell what she liked and didn’t
I can’t tell if Mrs P found what she wanted or didn’t like what she saw-I suppose that was the point-perhaps scan of face should have come up blank
I like the capitalistic competition and father’s keepsakes
I like the detail on the scrap pieces and wonder why not as much on finished works
Recycling and letting nothing go to waste-good business and good lesson
Add some nails and/or chisel to the lumber and hammer
If he had to blow out the sight-describe it better or I just see a candle
Try to describe character’s emotions stronger-they seem a bit faded-add physical reactions-heart beat, sweat’ eyes watering up-goosebumps-hairs standing up, once in a while
Old mossy oak-nice touch
- add/view comments (0)
This 95 word review has not been unlocked.
Showing 1 - 2 of 2
Review item
Add to faves
GENERAL
REVIEW QUEUE
Ratings & Rankings
