"Olive, is this the Golden Faire"?
"Oh no child, this is just a meeting place for the lesser creatures of Cinereo".
"If this spectacle is a simple gathering point, I may find the Golden Faire beyond my wits to imagine".
"That is true", said Olive.
The streets were paved in bronze. Strange trees with glowing golden eyes danced exotic tangos on its border, dipping with a flash of tapered silken ribbons in our honor. Tiny blue lights blinked in and out of our path, giggling like soft chimes as they hovered almost too close to us. Their light was unnecessary though as the light from the sun reflected strangely from golden mirrors and amber lenses focusing a scintillating aurulent glow on our path. The breeze was vitalizing after the tedious walk in-between and had a faint, fragrant, tantalizing scent.
"Hahaha" I laughed.
"What is so funny" asked my Lamassu.
"Something about the breeze makes me laugh".
"You are smelling green cheese. It has special properties. Many can't detect it at all. For those with overactive imaginations it can have many effects. I would suggest you not inhale too much of it dear girl" said Olive.
I tried to take Olive's advice, taking in only short breaths, covering my face and nose with a scarf, but the more I tried the more I inhaled, until I was so light on my feet I no longer touched the ground. My giggles only serve to draw more of the local denizens to us. They bow and wave and sing merry tunes.
Lost in my thoughts, my attention is drawn to a retinue of parti-colored creatures playing pear-shaped stringed instruments and brass horns. The crowd parts as they approach us. The tune is lively but abruptly stops as the group comes to a sudden halt. One of the instruments, a cello I believe, with a motley conical hat over the handle begins to read from a long scroll.
"Hear ye, hear ye.
Dear Miss and your Chimera,
You are cordially invited and shall be most graciously received
Should we have the honor and privilege of your company
In attendance of the Golden Faire on the morrow.
Please accept this token of admittance without which
You shall not be joining us.
But we hope you do".
With this the Cello hands me the token, bows deeply emitting a C sharp minor in the process, and with no further adieu the entire retinue leaves as quick as they appeared.
I look at the ticket.
"What does it say" asks my Lamassu.
"Admittance to the Golden Faire. One Miss and her Chimera.
On the morrow.
Formal Cinereo attire required.
See Frandrake the Magnificent for fittings.
Down the street and to the left next to the large waterfall".
"Well that answers my questions" said my Lamassu.
"Who is Frandread"? I ask.
"Franfake? That old tart is trouble and in spades. I won't go near him. If you must go see that mountebank I will wait for your return here" said Olive.
"Sounds like great fun! Let's go see him at once" said my Lamassu.
We scamper down the street and take the first left. After a few minutes we realize we are completely lost. I stop an old goat and ask him for directions. He nearly eats my token, but I pull it back in time and he eats my scarf instead.
"Burp! Thanks for the snack! Did you take the left next to the large waterfall"?
"We took the first left we saw".
"People are so impatient! Do you always take the first left you find? How do you know that left isn't trying to deceive you? Your token clearly states take the left next to a large waterfall! I strongly suggest you retrace your steps and start over".
"Thanks, our fault, we will go back".
"Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah"!
We finally retrace our steps, noticing that the blue balls of light continue to follow and chase us wherever we go. After walking a few more blocks we find a left turn featuring a large waterfall. The water is purple and flows up into the starry sky where it is caught in a crystal pool. We try to determine how the pool never fills up but give up after a few moments. The path twists and narrows. Unkempt hedges bar our view of the surrounding area increasing our confusion and making it impossible to sense directions. Despite the winding path, after a thousand paces the path ends at the entrance of a large cottage. The cottage has a roof fashioned from fine satin, the windows are high quality stained glass, and the door is a rare darkened wood. Smoke billows slowly from a chimney. A sign in front of the door reads, "FRANDRAKE the MAGNIFICENT: Tailor, Exchequer, Notary Public, Vintner, Choreographer, Fortune Teller and Geologist".
"This must be the place", I say.
"...Or Frandrake has franchises", said my Lamassu.
I start toward the door, hesitating briefly only to be run over by my Lamassu. She races past me to jingle a string of bells attached to the door. The sound of the bells is pleasant but so loud that all the blue orbs that had followed us up the pathway scatter behind the bushes and turn red, humming in low tones. A voice bellows out from inside the cottage.
"I said I will pay you next week as soon as I find a few more marks to fleece! Go away"!
A bulbous purple lizard with diaphanous wings, far too small for flight is the source of the voice. He looks out cautiously from the opened door but firmly blocks the entrance. He is dressed in yellow silk pajamas with fuzzy slippers on his feet.
"Excuse me, are you Mr. Frandrake the Magnificent"?
When the lizard speaks, bubbles come out of his nose smelling of bourbon and mint. "No, I am not. Now go away"!
"But, the sign says you are"!
"Don't believe everything you read baby. There is a lot of false advertising out there. Frandrake is far more than magnificent, he's stupendous. If you have coin, he's omniscient, omnipotent and omnifabulous too. Now since you don't seem to have the mental acumen to skedaddle, perhaps you can explain why you have come from far away lands to parley with his extraordinariness".
"We have a token to attend the Golden Faire and were directed to request Frandrake's services for proper dress".
"Dress??? Poo-pah! Dress??? You've come to the wrong place! Frandrake the incredible doesn't create dress. Frandrake the august creates wearable world wonders. Let me see that token".
The winged lizard snatches the token from my hand like a kung fu master.
"Admittance, blah, blah, blah...blah...Formal Cinereo attire required.
See Frandrake the Magnificent for fittings. See Frandrake the Magnificent for fittings? Fittings? Where is the line about com-pen-sation. Is fittings some new court word for Fee? Frandrake is not some cheap tart sitting around waiting for the court to move his strings like a wooden puppet"!
"HAHAHAHA"!
"What--whatever are you cackling about young lady"?
"You said tart"!
"So, what of it. The point was the term is Fandrake's antonym".
"Olive said you were a tart"!
"Olive!!! Olive? What does Olive know? Olive is a fine one to talk. She is hardly more than common sandstone...not a grain of quartz or any other semi-precious stone in her makeup. She's just upset because I beat her at rock, paper, scissors every single time...perhaps if she picked something other than rock once in a while...".
"So you ARE Frandrake the magnificent"!?!
"What? So I am. Of course I am! Who else could pull off yellow silk pajamas with fuzzy slippers and still look this marvelous"?
"So you will help us"?
"I suppose. I shall consider you a personal challenge to eclipse my former exalted masterpieces. Perhaps I am handicapping myself a bit, but business was slow today...oh, one more thing...I am sending the court a bill for the work, to be paid in full no later than next week. Where are my manners? Do come in. Ignore the mess. I simply must hire a maid and a butler. Take a seat while I find my measuring tools".
"I hope this is not a mistake".
"If it is, I am sure we can find someone else to help us" said my Lamassu.
"I don't know, from what I've seen, not that many people have heard of wearing clothes in Cinereo".
We enter the cottage. It seems much bigger on the inside. Astrological models, statues of strange creatures, maps, bales of silk and satin, and odd ephemera mark every spare corner. An intricately carved table and chairs serve as a focal point to the room. A large pile of gold and gems is neatly stacked near a silk purse at the head of the table. A tea kettle still steamed from its spout and an empty cup accompanied it.
Frandrake returns with a flourish, and several tailor tools.
"The Chimera will be easy. I have patterns for her. Now you child...what EXACTLY are you?? You will be a challenge"!
"I am human".
"How barbaric! I thought they'd all gone extinct"!?
"Now there's no need to be rude. I didn't call you a dragon, and threaten to slay you and take your silly gold now did I"?
"Wait a minute...I'm not a dragon. I'm Frandrake the..."
"Can it buddy, the customer is ALWAYS right"! roared my Lamassu.
"Okay. No need to get hostile".
Faster than the eye can follow, Frandrake worked his magic, fashioning attire for the Lamassu and me with master precision. Scissors and wings whipped the air in unison and needle and thread were dancing to their own music. Fabric, gemstones and fairy dust tangoed. When finished Frandrake, my Lamassu and myself all collapsed exhausted from the experience.
"Magnificent"! exclaimed my Lamassu.
"Indubitably", said Frandrake.
Token in hand, dressed in the finest attire available in Cinereo, attended by blue orbs of light, dancing trees and creatures small and large beyond the description of my wildest dreams, we bid Frandrake fair well and make our way back to Olive. Time must have stopped inside that cabin, because a new day has dawned. We should be tired, but we are energized and excited to get to the Golden Faire before it is too late. The journey goes on. Yet somehow I think the flight of fancy has not even begun. Onward.
--The Golden Faire--