Pampir held aloft the book in front of him in an open palm and waved his empty hand over the pages. A faint white glow emanated from the register pages before strands of snowy white magic flowed upward. The lowing fibers twisted and danced together before they arched into the sky and down into the crowd. The warm strands glided among the crowd and brushed against their wrists. The few lucky ones were gifted with a faint glow around their right wrists. Cries of joy and groans of sorrow mixed into a chorus of life’s trials and tribulations.

The strands reached the end of the crowd and faded, but the white ribbons remained. Pampir clapped the book shut and tucked it under one arm. “All those with ribbons may step forward and form yourselves into a line. Everyone else may remain here to see if there are any spots to be filled by those unworthy of being chosen.”

A glimmer of vindictive hope appeared in the faces of many of those not chosen. The threaded ones scooted through the crowd of their jealous compatriots and hurried to the forefront where they created a messy line.

Pampir paced the long line of some four dozen vendors and studied each of them. A few smug faces grinned back at him and the smiling Leiren was among the lucky chosen, but the vast majority had glistening sweat on their brows. A few swallowed hard as the inquisitor strode past them and some even quivered beneath his stern gaze.

Pampir stretched his arm above his head and waved his hand. A soft brown light emanated from his fingers and cascaded down him like rain sliding off an umbrella. The ground beneath him came alive with the same bright magical light and the earth rumbled. A few of the merchants stumbled to and fro and many stared in terror as hairline cracks appeared in the dirt beneath their feet.

Gas emanated from the cracks and floated up. Several of the women, and a few of the men, screamed and scattered. A few of those in line desired to join the herd instinct but Pampir’s sharp voice stalled those plans.

“Move from the line and you will be immediately disqualified!”

The would-be panicked froze in place, their faces pictures of terror as the gas crept up over them. The only one who appeared indifferent to the chaos around them was Leiren who continued smiling as the gas flowed over his hips.

“What is this stuff?” one of the women in the line shrieked.

“A gas given to me by Lady Miansha that is capable of learning the true hearts of anyone who breaths in its air,” Pampir revealed as he stepped back from the line and inspected them. “You will inhale the gas and be given judgment.”

Leiren was the first, and most willing, contestant to breathe in the gas. The soft brown glow could be seen flowing down his throat and into his chest where it focused around his heart. The magical air could be seen wrapping around and moving in time with the thumping of his ticker, and a faint red glow appeared.

“Is that good?” a man questioned their judge.

Pampir nodded. “He has passed.”

“And what color is us not passing?” another one asked him.

“I hope you shall not see it.”

The merchants reluctantly allowed the gas to slip into their mouths while the crowd of onlookers scurried out of reach of the truth serum, fearful of its judgment. The earthen light set their chests afire with its soft glow and wrapped around their hearts. Even Shian sat up in her chair and watched the magic work its will around the heart of the infected.

Red lights appeared around all but one of the chosen.

The turtle woman glared down at her chest and the gray light that pulsed around her heart. “What is it, some sort of trick? I got nothing to hide!”

Pampir strolled up to her with his glowing hand still raised. He studied the woman with a sharp look. “The gas believes you have something to hide. What is your crime?”

She sneered at him. “My crime is believing you lot could not be assholes.”

The lord lifted his nose high in the air. A jolt of tension twanged between the two as they faced off, but the heavenly god had the upper hand. “State your crime or you will be immediately disqualified!”

The woman crossed her arms over her chest and pressed her lips into a petty pout. “I cheated a bunch of people, okay? It was just some stupid village, anyway.”

Pampir stabbed a finger in the direction of the river. “Then I will not give you the chance to cheat anyone in the heavenly realm. You are disqualified.”

The woman threw up her hands. “Fine. I didn’t want your filthy gold, anyway.”

She marched out of line and past the quiet crowd. They all turned their heads to follow their fallen commercial comrade. She stomped across the bridge and out of sight.

Pampir popped open the book and cleared his throat. “Now I will choose an adequate replacement.”

The fall of the turtle woman was completely forgotten as all the attention fell on Pampir. He repeated the choosing process and another took her place. The gas did its duty and didn’t find her wanting, as evidenced by the blazing red glow around her heart.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Pampir shut the book again and for the last time and smiled at the line of people in front of him. “Excellent! You have all been chosen to partake in the fair! Please come to the table to be given your ribbons by Lady Shian herself.”

The winners scurried up to the table and the first one stretched out his hand with a beaming smile. Shian frowned at them and pointed at his other arm. “Your right hand.”

The man winced and quickly switched limbs. She raised her hand over his arm and a faint light blue element glided like slick ice down to the man’s wrist where the light formed a very solid blue bracelet. The merchant lifted his hand and brushed his fingers against the creation.

“Move along!” Shian snapped.

The merchant bowed his head. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Pampir waved his hand at the man. “No thanks are necessary. Merely arrive here on the appointed day to set up your stall.”

He scurried away and the line moved forward, with everyone receiving their ticket to consumer heaven and skipping off with their prize glistening on their wrists. Many of them petted their trinket as they passed by the vast crowd.

Those who would be left behind in the land realms weren’t pleased. A great roar of disappointment and disapproval rose from the fomenting crowd and several shook their fists at the heavenly gods.

“Why didn’t I get picked?”

“You’re just playing favorites!”

“I have better stuff than her!”

“This is rigged!”

Pampir marched up to the crowd that persisted in staying and held up his hands. “We have no favorites and we cannot be bought at any price. Those chosen had the superior products that fit the best with the aesthetic of the Twilight Fair. You may return here another time and try your luck with another festival.”

“Why don’t we just set up our stalls right now?” someone shouted.

A woman pointed at the open gate. “Yeah! It’s open now! They can let us in!”

One of the men stepped forward and twisted around to catch the eyes of his comrades in anger. The ruddy glow of alcohol tinged his cheeks. “Come on guys!” he shouted as he swung his arm toward the gate. “Let’s decide who gets a spot by seeing who’s the fastest!”

He started the stampede with a stumbling step but the others not chosen rushed past him, toppling the man to the ground. They ran over him to get their chance to enter heaven and reap the riches offered by the divine inhabitants.

Pampir scowled at them and lifted a hand. He snapped his fingers and the sharp crack of bone on bone cut through the shouts and bawling of the aggrieved. The heavenly gate pulsed with a hard glow of ethereal white light. The stampeding vendors skidded to a stop, some crashing into the person in front of them and leading to a pile-up a few feet short of the gate.

The light flashed harder and faster, and a sharp air blew out of the open portal. The people threw their arms up and covered their faces, and those in the rear decided living was the better virtue. They turned and used their magic to vanish in a faint cloud of sparkling light.

The heavenly gate’s wind turned into a gale that touched not a hair on the heads of the heavenly host nor their table but grasped and yanked at the clothes of the land realm peoples. The vendors were dragged and tumbled away from the gate and past the table. Many of the people flopped onto their stomachs and clawed at the ground but their fingernails were no match for the gale. The aggrieved shopkeepers sailed past the heavenly group and some even reached the edges of the river where they were tossed into the shallow but cold waters.

They came up sputtering in a hot and cold blend of fury and river water. The bedraggled invaders stumbled onto the shore where Pampir greeted them. His arms were crossed over his chest and his narrowed eyes judged them with a sharp, disapproving glare. “Should anyone attempt another invasion again, you will be more than just-”

One of the people decided to test his unfinished promise by charging forward toward the gate. Pampir stomped his foot on the ground. The earth shook and a huge crack appeared in front of the invader. The man fell into the crevice and let out a blood-curdling scream that lasted for several seconds before a horrible thump interrupted him. Then all was silent.

Pampir lowered his hand and the crevice slammed shut. His cold eyes studied the people one by one. “Would anyone else care to make another attempt on the gate?”

The dripping-wet people stared at each other before they turned tail and trampled through the water, tripping over rocks, each other, and their own feet in their urge to escape Pampir’s wrath. They reached the bridge and scurried across where they disappeared, many in faint clouds of magic.

A faint smile accented Pampir’s lips as he turned and sauntered back to the table. Shian stood and her chair vanished along with the table. The pair led their entourage toward the gate and the wonderful home beyond the ripple.

“Excuse me.”