Trifecta Challenge: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2013/04/trifecta-week-seventy-two.html
Weekly writing challenge 72: use the third definition of the given word in your story. Alchemy: an inexplicable or mysterious transmuting
The Harlequin’s soft pointed shoes shuffled across cracked and chilly flagstones, picking his way slowly from his quarters to the prince’s minor receiving hall. He gave his head a little shake to set his motley grouping of bells jingling and thought of the momentary warmth that he had been pulled from, his head pillowed between his mistresses’ plump breasts. The dark and heavy door that he came to swung open with an irritated groan at his shove.
The prince smarmed from his repose upon the guest couch. “I cannot sleep, fool. Sing to me a song of love and magic, or I shall have your tongue removed as I have ordered it done before.” He flapped an arrogant hand towards a wall decorated with ghastly shriveled things. “Get on with it.”
Ah, a request it was to be. Obligingly he sketched a mocking bow and dipped his head and began to sing, almost sweetly.
“O’er time the land we sow changes, the wind blows o’er to the nor’east
The lass, she makes her plans and arranges, to prepare for the sorcerer’s feast”
A small and wicked smile on his face, the jester capered and sang, his voice growing reedy and thin. As his countenance began to fade to translucence, so too did the prince. His grace held up that arrogant hand and saw his fool right through it. “What alchemy is this!” the prince hissed, as his doublet morphed to patchwork and his gold to beaten bronze.
The Harlequin smiled from his place upon the couch and raised his own arrogant and pampered hand. “Deep down inside, your former grace, all men are fools. Now sing me a song fool, of love and magic, for the hour grows late and I would rest.”
Today’s story brought to you by a weird obsession with creating a Harlequin character over the past few weeks, and Tibet Trance by Red Buddha (yogic electronica, seriously fantastic shite)