The air sparked and fizzled as fire and crackling magic danced against the crisp Summer afternoon. Hands clapped together and whistled arose from the gathered audience while one silver haired sorceress stood before them all, bowing graciously to her public while the fire of her display lingered against the sky above her. The small wooden stage she stood upon elevated her just enough over the crowd for her to address them all when she stood straight and folded her gloved hands before her torso. "Thank you, thank you. The Great and Powerful Trixie is nothing if not a pleaser for her audience," the sorceress smiled at them all, cocking her head to the left as she spoke kindly, "However..." one of her hands shot out to her side, effectively causing her pointed hat she had been using throughout her performance to appear in it with a puff of smoke, "The Great and Powerful Trixie must bid you all adieu."
With a final descending bow to the crowd, Trixie was swallowed out by a plume of smoke billowing out from around her feet and snaking up around her body. Once the smoke dissipated, the crowd once again clapped their amazed approval when not a sign of Trixie remained where she once stood. Where crackling fire and magic once danced against the air, smoke now turned into faint wisps against the dusk colored sky before turning into nothing but shadows of the passing clouds. One by one, the collective audience left Trixie's stage; many of which pulling reluctant children from the mesmerizing display and towards home, where rest awaited them after a long day.
In time Trixie's stage was left to itself; alone with only the flecks of spent magic twinkling against the woodwork. It was at that point that Trixie moved out upon her own stage, arms folded before her chest and hat tapping rhythmically against her hip as it was held by the hem between her fingers. For some time, Trixie stood upon her stage and watching as townsfolk went about the streets to their own homes. Trixie tipped her hat firmly against her side once, causing it to spark with a faint blue hue before blinking out of existence and freeing up Trixie's hand once more. The very hand she used to snap her fingers together soundly, seemingly causing her stage to rattle more and more with each passing second. The sorceress stepped off her stage and allowed the rattling to play out, causing the stage itself to fold into itself and snap back against the wagon situated behind it. With a sound 'clunk' the stage was gone and the wagon stood strong; closing with it two wooden doors that held the compact stage within its wooden confines.
Wordlessly, Trixie stepped to the front of her wagon and sat atop a single carved seat at the very top and front of the wooden wagon. Once more she snapped her fingers and her wagon started to creak at the wheels as the whole of it began to move along down the town road. Pulled along by an unseen force, the wagon rattled along down the town road, carrying with it Trixie at the head of it all.
Nightfall against the town was breathtaking to say the very least. From upon any of the many hills that made up the surrounding area of the town's outskirts, anyone looking to the town would see perhaps one of the most peaceful sights. True rustic dwelling with little flickers of oil lit street lights, chirping crickets living within the night kissed gardens outside homes, the gentle hue of night constellations resting like a mist against the sky above, and the beautifully natural violet sky that canvased over all the world below. Even more beautiful, perhaps, was not what you could see or hear. But what you could know. Families nestled together in their beds; blowing out the final wick of the night so their youngest could make their final rounds into slumber. To some, that idea was the most breathtaking thought when looking at a sleeping town.
It was that idea, too, that Trixie enjoyed knowing as she stood within her wagon home resting upon one of the hills outside the town she had performed in earlier that evening. Night had fallen, and so too had the people of the town. More importantly... The children. Trixie leaned out against the wooden doorway on her wagon, breathing in the night as she closed her eyes. As her nostrils took in a final inhale of the cold, dark night, her lips pursed together and started to hum. With the hum of her lips, her back heel tapped against the floor in a rhythm following her humming. In time, the wind around her wagon went still before following along with her rhythm and gentle hums. The wood of her wagon creaked for just a moment before the wind swept away, wavering along the tune of Trixie's humming towards the sleeping town.
The wind slithered on through the sleeping streets of the town, passing house after house at a varying speed with each passing note from the distant Trixie. Against the small flickers of the oil lit street lights, the wind held with it a small sparkle of blue magic hanging against each gust as if it were a spider's web. However, the winds suddenly became stagnant; perpetually holding the magical trace against it within the air... Off against the night horizon, a hypnotizing and alluring voice swept across the hillsides and signaled the magic laced winds to begin moving once more.
Come Little Children
Trixie's voice soothingly beckoned the winds to snuff out each and every light in the streets, bathing the entire town within an absolute blanket of darkness.
I'll Take Thee Away, Into A Land
Of Enchantment
Her winds, from door locks, cracked windows, jarred doors, and much alike, snuck into each house they were filtered towards. Soft candle lights died out as the magic laden winds brushed through the homes; snaking around banisters, pots, scattered toys and discarded knickknacks. They ebbed and receded back as they touched against one bedroom door to the next, looking for just the right one...
Come Little Children
The Time's Come To Play
In time, one by one, they all found their target: sleeping, harmless children in their cozy beds. The magic weighted gusts encircled around the children they had found, following along with Trixie's commands so far away. Against Trixie's closed eyelids, she could see every child's blissful, sleeping faces. Her lips moved into a warm smile and her breast heaved. A beautiful, peaceful sight. Out before her, she waved her hands about, causing the winds to stir softly against the little children they had each found. As she sung, she turned her palms up and opened her eyes, looking out towards the sleeping city while her palms laid out before her flat against the air.
Here In My Garden
Of Shadows
Sharply, her fingers clenched against the flats of her palms and they sparked a malicious red along with her now twisted, pleasure filled eyes. The winds around the children within the town silently twisted and delved against the children, causing them to shiver for but a moment. Trixie ground her nails against her palms, smirking and humming darkly to herself as, for her eyes only, she could see the nightmarish horrors that her magic winds were instilling within each child. Blood soaked claws, moaning husks of friends and family, lumbering demons stalking through the streets, gnashing teeth and bloody howling; tears escaped the slumbering children's eyes, yet they would not awake. They tossed, turned, and groaned in their sleep pointless pleas for the horrors to end. None of which fell upon deaf ears; only the ears of Trixie paid them no mind.
For perhaps an hour, Trixie continued to wreak havoc upon the minds of the children before she unclenched her hands and her eyes softened. Her fingers softly rolled against her palms, calming the red magic around her hands to a soft blue. As her hands and eyes softened, so too did the winds rattling within the children's dreams.
Follow Sweet Children
I'll Show Thee The Way
The winds now brought to the children a soothing imagine; one shared among them all. Unlike the horrid nightmares she had inflicted, each tailored through magic to be special for who saw it, the soothing image now wavering through all their little dreams was one and the same. An image of Trixie's magic show with only the children and their parents present. The children, tucked within their beds, warmed against the image within their minds and sighed; if only to be free from the endless nightmares that struck through their minds not moments ago.
Through All The Pain And
The Sorrows
Trixie lowered her hands against her wagon, clenching them against the wooden work of the door as she calmly relented against herself. The winds obeyed her motion and withdrew from the slumbering children; from the homes they invaded; and the sleeping town itself. As they passed wicks, lanterns, and much the same, the magic of the winds would spark a new flame against them; returning them to as they once were. When the winds returned to Trixie and her wagon, not only did they have the flecks of blue magic Trixie had imbued into it, but now there were distinct bits of reddened magic clinging too in surplus.
She put her hand out and wrapped her fingers around the new bits of magic, instantly absorbing them into her body and causing her to quiver at the sensation. When the moment passed, she looked back to the sleeping town and smiled beside herself with something pooled in her heart and eyes.
Weep Not Poor Children
For Life Is This Way
Magic is a power many possess in this wide-broad world. Yet, magic comes from within; from the pure of a calm, even heart. Whether that calm comes from friendship, the sensation of music, the honor of doing your duty, or as simple as crafting wardrobes; magic is born from harmony. Yet, for some it is not that way. Some must rely on other means to draw magical influence from the world around them. There are some, a very few, that must draw magic from fear... From darkness to sustain the powers they lack the heart to provide for themselves.
Trixie's fingers sparked and twitched with her collection this night, humming her final tune as she drew her wagon door close and brought herself to sleep as well. A peaceful, assured sleep knowing her magic was held... As too, her beloved audience was held for another day.
Murdering Beauty And
Passions
Alone within her wagon-cabin, Trixie rested her silver haired head against a single pillow and shut her eyes. Assured this night; the children stirred in their sleep with horrible nightmares, soothed with a humble display, and reaped away with the fears that they held for those tear filled hours. A process of dark intent, of twisted ideals. Yet, Trixie would not lose a wink of sleep over the ordeal... Such becomes ignored when you become the Siren of the Young. Singing them to a bloody fear, yet promise them soon after comfort and protection among their family and friends. A Siren does not mean to do harm, merely takes enjoyment out of the act that brings it; not the harm itself.
When tomorrow brings with it a new day and wipes away the fears for the children's nightmares, Trixie will come down before the townspeople once more and present to them the marvels of her ever abundant magic. Many will ask: "What is your secret?". And she will answer, with true and secretly malevolent words: "My magic comes from the love of the art, of course". Not a word untrue, no matter how dark the meaning truly meant. For when dusk comes once again, the children of whatever town Trixie loomed over would sink within her Siren's Song.
