Gentle music tinkled in the background. A trio of musicians quietly plied their craft in the corner. A candelabra glittered. The scent of flowers and delicious food mixed together, luring him further in. Men and women in ornate ballgowns danced below him, performing a formal waltz. He caught himself against a golden railing and gaped. “Is this where all the mages went?”

He expanded his aura, and instantly received his answer. They were empty. Devoid of all aura. Not mages, not humans, but puppets.

Is there anyone left alive in this town? Anyone at all? Or are they all puppets? A chill crept over Ike’s spine, and he shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. How long have they been like this? Since forever? Or only ‘recently?’ Recently in mage terms, anyways. He knew mages could count decades as short, once they were a high enough Rank. Maybe the oldest of them would even see centuries as no time at all. Either way, he couldn’t judge mage-time by his mortal standards.

“What’re they doing now?” Wisp muttered. She leaned against the railing.

“Dancing,” Ike deadpanned.

She gave him a look.

The song came to an end. The puppets parted. Lifting their hands, they offered a polite round of applause to the musicians.

At the far end of the hall, a curtain swung aside. A man in black, formal robes stepped to the front of the stage. All the mages applauded again, more earnestly this time. The man in black raised his hand, and they fell silent.

“That guy looks like the shopkeep,” Wisp commented.

“I bet he is the shopkeep. Pretty sure our shopkeep is this city’s lord,” Ike informed her.

“Huh. Weird thing to moonlight as, but I guess everyone has hobbies,” Wisp allowed.

Ike leaned in. “Just between you and me, this guy might be a bit of a looney.”

She snorted under her breath. “You don’t say?”

On the stage far below, the man gestured behind him. Another man stepped forward. Ike’s eyes widened. I’d know that guy anywhere.

Green hair. Blue and green robes. A broad blue hat with a single, fat white plume dangling from its brim. Llewyn took the stage with a flamboyant bow. Before all the puppet people, he drew out a puppet.

“What a shock,” Wisp deadpanned.

“Yeah, of course Llewyn was here,” Ike said. Still, he crossed his arms and kept watching. The man was showing them this for a reason. It didn’t hurt to keep watching.

The puppet Llewyn drew out was obviously a puppet. It was unornamented wood. Strings controlled its limbs. Before them, he demonstrated a few tricks. The puppet danced. It mopped the floor. It sang. And then it stepped away from the strings and stood on its own. The puppet and the puppeteer bowed as one.

All the mages clapped. The man in black robes clapped as well. But even as he clapped, he turned toward them. A tear-stricken face stared at Ike and Wisp.

What is he trying to convey? Regret? Sadness that he let Llewyn in, and let him show off his wares? Right now, Llewyn seems pretty innocuous… but I suppose that could be his usual method.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The puppets filed away into the next room. Darkness fell over the ballroom. Ike glanced at Wisp. “Act One is over, please proceed to the second theater for Act Two?”

“Seems like it. Does this guy not know we already know Llewyn? Hey, mister! We know about Llewyn and the puppets!” Wisp shouted, lifting her hands to cup her mouth for the final words.

“I think he’s trying to explain himself. Express how things progressed to this extreme point,” Ike pointed out.

“What’s there to say? He let Llewyn in, and Llewyn took advantage of it. We know.” Wisp rolled her eyes.

“Might as well learn what actually happened. If we’re going to warn the king about Llewyn, it’s good to know how he infects things,” Ike pointed out. He hopped down from their high vantage point and crossed the ballroom.

Wisp sighed. Reluctantly, she followed him. “See, this is why humans are constantly getting into trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Ike asked.

She gestured. “Presented with this scenario, I would’ve ignored it and just kept smashing. You, on the other hand, want to know more. His reasons. That bullshit. Even when we already know the story, you still need to know the itty bitty details.”

“What? It’s good to know.”

“It’s a good way to get in trouble for no reason,” Wisp muttered. She shook her head. “Go on. We’re already doing it, so might as well see it to the end.”

Ike nodded. He walked forward, into the next room.

In this one, Llewyn stood behind a stall at the far end of the room. Mages and ordinary citizens alike lined up, eager to receive a puppet. Llewyn handed out puppets to all of them, rich and poor, mage and citizen, alike. After the last one received their puppet, the Llewyn figure put up a Out of Stock sign and ducked under his stall, vanishing.

The townsfolk remained. They used their puppets in all kinds of ways. Some used them to complete chores or repetitive tasks. Mages plied them to test out new skills and techniques. Mortals handed them to their children to play with.

One by one, whenever Ike wasn’t looking, the puppets vanished. At last, he snapped around and caught one in the act. It grabbed one of the children by its shoulders and kicked its way inside the child’s back. The child went still, then stood back up again, seemingly normal. No mark remained, but the child was a child no more. Now it was a puppet, replaced seamlessly by the puppet its parents had bought for it to play with. And none of the other puppets, the humanoid ones representing the villagers, were any the wiser.

When the last of the original set of puppets vanished, and the villagers were in need of fresh puppets, Llewyn reappeared. Just like clockwork. Ready and waiting, with a fresh batch of puppets.

“Horrifying,” Ike muttered.

“No kidding,” Wisp replied.

The puppets all walked away. The two of them followed them, into yet another room. Here, the man in black robes offered shiny puppets to a woman and a girl in matching black.

Ike froze. He hissed a slow breath out. “No.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Wisp asked.

“His wife and daughter. He gave them puppets himself,” Ike translated.

The daughter ran at her father and wrapped him up in a big hug, holding her puppet in her other arm. The wife smiled and patted his shoulder approvingly. He hugged them back, then waved goodbye. Hopping out the window, the man took to the sky.

Behind him, the two wooden puppets suddenly sprung to life. They pushed their way into the man’s wife and daughter. The two screamed and fought. Two people rushed to their side, then held them down so the puppets could finish taking them over.

There was no one to help anymore. Everyone in the town had become a puppet.

“Gods,” Ike hissed. He ran a hand through his hair. This man has been through too much. No one should have this happen to them. And all because he trusted someone. Made one small mistake. One tiny misjudgment, and Llewyn destroyed everything he had.

“I can’t believe he let a stranger eat his wife and offspring instead of doing the right thing and offering himself up to feed his wife. She might not have eaten his child if she was full. Plus he would’ve strengthened his beloved wife, instead of strengthening the enemy,” Wisp complained, crossing her arms.

Ike stared at her, then burst out laughing. After everything he’d seen, just that moment of lightness was enough to break him into a laughing fit. He shook his head, struggling to get himself under control.

“What? I didn’t say anything wrong,” Wisp said, crossing her arms. She shook her head at him disapprovingly.

Ike took a deep breath. Slowly, he killed the giggles. The puppets wandered off, leaving them alone. He gestured.

“Shall we see this to its bitter end?”

Wisp nodded. Together, the two of them strode onward.