--- P U R L B R I G H T ---
Purlbright looked down at Jack sleeping peacefully in his bed. He felt like this was going to be like one of his psychotherapist sessions where he divulged more than he’d like to a complete stranger. But the time had come, so there it was.
He had of course practised what he was about to say for the umpteenth time when Jack eventually stirred and forcing his hand. Well a gentleman can’t very well stand around in another man’s bedroom without a good reason.
Purlbright had originally taken Jack under his wing due to sense of duty and to avoid further besmirchment of the family name. Jack had now turned 17 the official age for admission to the circus as a magician. He had of course kept an eye on the little blighter through the years but he had never shown, well any promise. Promise that is for anything other than a magician.
In the Circus there were many professions but only one that could be given. This had not always been the case but since the establishment of the first official Circus it had always been the role of the ringmaster to provide the accoutrements of the trade: the cloak, the wand, the hat. However many, many things had transpired or been vanquished as he preferred to say since those first days. And he at Purlbrights was right in the middle of everything.
Purlbright’s sold artefacts to other members of the circus community. Sounds simple doesn’t it. But when you thought about it, it was all very complicated to explain. When you lived it, it was as simple as eating toast. You just did it.
So to start at the beginning. A circus performer chooses a profession. Or rather the profession chooses them but that’s already getting complicated, so pretend you didn’t hear that bit or you’ll just get too confused, like colours in a smarty jar.
Performers then go to a circus school of their *cough* choosing when they are trained. Once trained to a certain standard they receive certification from a validated organisation. Are you with me so far? Because if you aren’t were going to have real problems down the line.
When performers decide they want to train further they return to circus school ad nauseam. Got it? Good. Where the problem arises is they need to obtain by fare means or foul materials to assist them in this upgrade – artefacts. Still following because this is where it all goes wrong.
Artefacts were made and still are by Acrobats with the form of balance. We won’t go into its styles here for the obvious reason – I can’t be bothered. You’ll just have to wait for the chapters when Jack joins the circus proper. Oh, very well, they are: Harmony, Equilibrium, Stability, Symmetry, Moderation, Proportion, Inner peace, Wellness, Mental clarity and lastly Centeredness. There! Now you can see why I wanted to stay clear of them – heady concepts indeed. Oh, you don’t think so, well maybe it should be you being the Ringmaster and not me. *cough* back to the explanation.
Artefacts were a finite quantity. They were made using finite resources meaning very few performers existed or those that did only remained at low rankings unable to progress further. As they became scarcer they were bought, stolen and killed for.
Eventually the first Ringmasters came together and decided they would go to where there would always be lots of artefacts – the past. And using contortionists they did just that. The contortionists squeezed their way through time and space, leading gangs of performers to nick artefacts from the poor unsuspecting peoples of the past. This still goes on today.
But there were some who objected to this original idea and warned of the dire repercussions of meddling in the past. Proponents objected stating they would not mess up their own world’s time-line but would seek out other worlds and mess up theirs instead.
The objectionists lost the debate or rather were ostracised by the rank and file. And labelled as a doomsday cult – the Green Ringmasters.
It was not long though before things stopped working so well. The past influences on the present started to wither and die. Ringmasters once all powerful and wise became shadows of their former selves.
“So you’re a Ringmaster?” said Jack “I have to say that explains quite a lot.” added Jack propping himself up in bed ready to receive a bit more info about this new world he’d found himself in.
“An important Ringmaster?” queried Jack, still not really having a clue about this new world thingamajig.
“Yes” said a crestfallen Purlbright. “Haven’t you got a hangover?”
“No” said Jack wondering if he’d left it behind with his new hat.
Then feeling this was a bit of slight of hand by his uncle said “Ok. Circus, Performers, Artefacts, Time travelling contortionists and now every things gone a bit pair shaped. Am I up to speed so far?”
“Well, yes” said Purlbright rather surprised at Jack’s mental acuity he supposed it must have been the light ales.
“But what is it all for. The circuses and the performers performing and wars going on and stuff?” said Jack, really thinking “And why had he been dragged into this fruit bowl of a mess”
“Nobody really remembers. Where it all started or why that is.” Said his uncle trailing off.
Jack wondered if that was going to be it but then he started up again.
“But what does it really matter the houses are at war, the different worlds are at war, were at war with the past worlds too and other realms even now. So were in a spot of bother. And unless we get ourselves out of it. Were all dead”
“Which is why we need you Jack. You’re tied up in all this whether you like it which you probably don’t or not. You’re special Jack. I think even though I may be stretching it a bit here. That you’re the key to all this in some way.”
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
“The chosen one!” said Jack laughing.
“No not the chosen one. The chosen card Jack”
“How did you know I was of some importance? Has Simon been talking about me?” said Purlbright feeling things not going the way he’d planned and wanting to check none of this was going to leak like a soggy water bottle before he went deeper.
“Stands to reason – Pulbrights, Welcome to the high octane world of the latest antiquities
You don’t own just any run of the mill establishment do you, Uncle?”
“This is all secret between you and me mind you. I am what is called a King. The King of hearts to be more exact. In terms of rank I should be above all other Ringmasters.” And hear a troubled and perplexed expression crossed his face putting about 20 years on him.
“Do you know about the tarot, Jack?” said his uncle eyeing him suspiciously as though he’d stolen a trifle.
“Tar Row is that down by the docks?” said Jack latching onto something he actually knew about.
“No tarot, the ancient and divine foretelling of the future using cards?” slated his uncle.
“Oh that one, yes, well kind of” Jack said only really being familiar with their descendants – playing cards.
“My mother received the King of Hearts from a powerful fortune teller when I was but a babe in arms. I was proclaimed as the new ringmaster of our house” said Pulbright a shadow falling over his face as remembered how things had been once.
“You had a circus in your house!?” said Jack excitedly.
“No!…Are I haven’t explained that yet either have I. Houses are groups of families. You are of the Purlbright family” said his uncle trying to put the conversation back on track.
“I thought that was your first name. Well that explains why it’s such a strange name. So what is your name if you don’t mind me asking?” Jack replied cautiously.
“I do as it goes. Anyway the rest is history” his uncle replied heatedly.
“Come on Uncle it can’t be that bad” Jack coaxed.
“If you repeat it you will drop dead on the spot, agreed?” was the flat reply.
“Agreed”
“Kingsley”
“Your name is similar”
Jack thought no way is it. Nobody bursts out laughing when I make introductions. It was quite a good all round name he felt.
“Jack. Whether you are Jack of Spades, Hearts, Clubs or Diamonds remains to be seen”
“What are the suits for by the way? And don’t say to look snappy”
“The suits are the four original houses of the original first Ringmasters. The founders of circus school. Imagine Hogwarts but with Hagrid juggling pigs”
“Ok, I think I’ve got it. Do they have house points to, and a forbidden forest and and…” said Jack his thoughts running away with him and half the cast of Harry Potter.
“House points, yes. Other stuff, well you’ll find out when you get there won’t you. but that stuff isn’t important so stop changing the subject”
“Your parents named you Jack for a reason and that reason is….”
At this point Jack thought it best to change the subject.
“Is this the bit where you tell me about my missing parents at last?” asked Jack with a bit of reticence. He wanted to find out obviously but the truth can be a kicker.
“Very well then you’re parents were both very accomplished contortionists. And they went missing.” Said Purlbright nodding solemnly.
“Went missing!!” Jack shrieked but not before snorting tea from his nose liberally.
“They were always gallivanting about. How was I supposed to know they were actually gone? I don’t mean to cast aspersions. Especially as it’s a trick that takes a long time to plan. But they were rarely around.” Said his uncle dismissively.
“You’re a Ringmaster and an important one of my intuition is right. Have you not looked for them? Made a through search and so forth. Looked under the bed and checked all the cupboards and wot not” Jack was in shock at such uncl-y dereliction of duty.
“I just tell everyone their off on a jaunt. You have to understand it is Nye impossible to find or track a contortionist apart from using a fortune teller that is” said Purlbright honestly.
“And what did they say?”
“They gave me the wheel of fortune card and the emperor card, which was quite auspicious but wasn’t really sure what it meant” he replied dredging up the painful memory.
Jack was just gobsmacked and sat there with his mouth flapping open and close like a fish out for a run.
“Well at least it wasn’t the death card or the tower or any of that kind of malarkey.You have to put these things in perspective. I mean contortionist disappear every day. That’s kind of what they do” Purlbright clarified with a slight chortle at his own joke. Which seemed to have been a bad decision but he’d had a rough day, week, life, so he couldn’t really blame himself. Stained nerves and all that.
However seeing Jack’s reaction he added quickly.
“There is always a possibility that you might be able to find information. For the right price that is. From tent city” his uncle said more seriously.
“Tent City?” quizzed Jack. He would need to get there pronto.
“It is a place that is far too unsafe for you to go to yet. Perhaps when you’ve had some training I’ll take you there myself. I promise. But right now it’s a no go zone, ok?”
“Where’s my hat?” said Jack rather coldly.
Pulbright surveyed the his nephew for a moment, coldly and rationally. The kid had something he knew not what but he had something. Gumption was what it used to be called he thought. But Tent City was a no mans land. Filled with those with no place to go. Those who had left the circusing world but couldn’t survive in the normal world. Their performance habits to ingrained for them to give up completely. It was a dark place of depravity and vice not a place for advice. The boy must not go. Like he said a few weeks or months of training and he might be ready but right now he would just be dead in the water.
But then he saw a look of such determination flash in Jack’s eyes that he became startled. Had he misjudged him?
“Now, now don’t do anything rash. You wouldn’t would you the customer services department will be on me like sticking paper!” said a rather pale Pulbright.
“Don’t worry won’t be a bother” said Jack holding out his hand, only for a very decent leather top hat to materialise there.
“Well I never and I didn’t get a chance to tell him why he was called Jack” said Pulbright to himself, as Jack had now vanished having placed the hat on his head.
Things could have gone better Kingsley thought. As he looked down at his scribbled notes. He had prepped for this important meeting but as always these days things had slipped from under his fingers like halibut. He had planned to mention that “we had all to live with the cards we’d been dealt” and that “his house was like a deck of cards that could fall at any time” but in the end he’d just add libbed all the way. He wiped his head with an old handkerchief with the house crest on it, five stars with a squirming dragon flying up to the heavens. He wondered about his nephew he hadn’t got his hat till his was the ripe old age of twenty-three. Next thing he’d be getting a cane or his own private rabbit complete with gold pocket watch, he mused chortling to himself.
Oh, he’d also forgotten to say that their house was indeed “The House of Cards”