My next full scale project. Probably will end up being around Twofaced length.
---
The Orchestra
I came to my family twelve years ago. I never had a family before. I lived in an orphanage until I was fifteen. I ran away that year. From that point onward, I lived on the largesse of others. Sadly, in a country as poor as my own, that wasn’t nearly enough to live on. Somehow I made it through that year. I remember that night well. It was the night I became a part of a whole.
It was December 27th, two days after my first Christmas alone. It had been a good day, the soup kitchen had been serving beef stew, and I had found an extra coat. At that point, I was living in the cellar of a wealthy man on Ducaine Street. He never came down there, and the external entrance was always left unlocked. I decided that night to indulge myself in a bit of his wine. Being but a small child at that point, I did not know my limits. I don’t remember much more then small pieces of that night until the end. One way or another, I ended up outside. I was clutching my second bottle… Or was it third? No matter. At that point, I could not walk or see properly. I stumbled a ways, singing to myself, vaguely aware that I should probably be getting back to my cellar.
Hours later I laid down. I was on someone’s porch. It didn’t much matter. I was rather tired. Had fortune not smiled warmly on me that night, I certainly would have frozen in the night. Fate had far more interesting plans for me, however. The door I was lying not two feet from swung open a few moments later. I could hear voices.
“Sten, take a look at this. There’s a drunk on our porch.”
“He’s too young to be a drunk. He can’t be more then fifteen.”
“Regardless of what he is, what he’s doing is lying on our porch. Shouldn’t we do something to help him?”
“Yeah, probably. Bring him in. He can meet Father when he comes around.”
I was vaguely aware that I was being moved. The next thing I knew, I was resting on a rug near the fire. I heard one of the men apologize to me, saying they didn’t have much room, and it was the best they could do for now. I mumbled some sort of thanks, and slept.
I awoke the next morning. I looked around to try to figure out where I had ended up in last night’s travels. There was a man seated in a rocking chair. He must have been around fifty then. Despite this, he looked much older. His hair was a shade whiter then the snow outside, and his face displayed his many wrinkles proudly. He saw I had awoken and spoke, his voice sounded far stronger then he looked.
“Son, you have awoken. You have come to my family in rags and without a coin to your name, and we want to help you.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. I don’t get much help around here. Can I ask you where I am? My memory of last night is a bit foggy.”
“You are in a farmhouse six miles east from Skinsend.”
I wondered briefly to myself how I managed to wander six miles out of town in a drunken stupor. Looking back, I must have been guided by fate.
“I want to offer you a place in my home, as we do need someone to play the flute. You see, I run a small traveling musical performance. This is where we live when not on the road. Our last flute player tragically passed on during the journey home. Poor Charles had a nasty spill off the Gaines Bridge. We are family here, and need men we can trust. You are yet young, and have sworn no fealty to the world. If you will stay, you can be one of us.”
I readily agreed. Considering what my life had been up to that point, a family of musicians was better then not having a family at all.
“What is your name, young man?”
“Tony, sir.”
“Then Tony, I welcome you to our company. My name is Martin, but call me Father as the others do. Though I have no children by birth, all whom I take in are my children. You will have three meals a day, an instrument to play, and maybe even a proper place to sleep.”
This is what he promised me. I found that I received so much more from the kindness of my new family. After meeting father, the two men that had found me last night dragged me into another room and cleaned me. I imagine I looked quite a mess at that point. I hadn’t had a bath in months, and my clothes were ragged. My hair was a nest for all sorts of heinous things. Once my being had been properly purged of a year’s impurities, they gave me new clothes.
“If you are to join us, you must look the part.” Sten said.
Something about what he said struck me in an odd fashion. Look the part for what? I decided it didn’t much matter. Whatever play I was acting in was certainly better then being in no play at all. So I was dressed in finer clothing then ever I had before, and my hair was combed, looking in the mirror, I could scarcely recognize the man there as myself.
I asked the men their names, though I already knew one.
“You will find this out soon enough” The man who was not Sten said.
This time I was not dragged, but led, into yet another room. In this room I was given a coat. We left the room and went out into the cold winter air. I asked where we were going, and Sten pointed to a barn a few hundred yards away. We marched through the snow. I was glad they had given me sturdy boots, as it had snowed more since last night. We reached the barn. The man who wasn’t Sten opened the door. I saw that the inside was of the deepest black. Sten pushed me inside. Then he and the other man closed the door behind me. I was alone in a dark barn. I could see nothing around me. Then, someone struck a match. I saw the face of my new Father. Then, the sound of ten other matches striking.
I saw eleven faces in the dark, all smiling at me. I was terrified. Then four of them lit lamps they were holding, and the barn was flooded with lights. The others blew out their matches in one quick synchronized motion, as if moved by one mind. Each of them had an instrument. Once the matches were snuffed and thrown to the ground, they began to play. Such a sound I had never heard before. It was music played with true passion. I stood in the middle of the barn, taking a moment to view each player. After what seemed like a delightful eternity, the music ended.
“Welcome, Tony, to the family.” Father said.
“These are your new brothers and sisters.”
He took me around the circle to meet them. There were Tino, Milo, and Malcom who all played Violins. Sten played the Cello, as did the man who had assisted in my bringing here. I found his name was Hans. Sara and Christiania danced while clicking the castanets. Marcello and Victoria had been married for a few years, and each sported a mandolin. Tina played the flute, being the sole lone player aside from Father. Father himself sang. He sang with a voice that didn’t seem to belong to him. Despite his aged appearance, he sang with the intensity of a far younger man. When the introductions were through, he gave me a bit more insight into the operation they ran.
“The song you heard just now is not one we play outside of this barn. In an actual performance, only about half of us play at a time. We don’t want to overpower the audience with our craft. This is why we all pick up other talents to amuse the masses. Think of our group not as a rather large band, but as a rather small carnival.”
This was the best way anyone could have put it, I soon learned. Sten and Hans were both masters of juggling, Tino was a contortionist, Milo was able to balance about anything on his forehead for an extended period of time, Malcom was a snake charmer, Marcello played the part of the strongman. The women were magicians. Sara dealt in blades, Christiania in cards, Victoria in appearances, and Tina in disappearances. Father didn’t mention if he had a side act, I assumed he did not. Since he was the only singer in the troup, he probably preformed each time. He did, however, explain how I fit in to all of this.
“So, as you may have realized, poor Tina is without a brother flute-player. This is what you shall do. Each day she shall instruct you to play. When she has deemed you able, you will perform along with the rest of us. I would suggest you also pick one of us to learn a side-act from, unless you have a talent of your own.”
I would like to note to the reader at this moment that I was currently smitten with Sara almost completely. She was by many measures the finest girl I had ever laid eyes upon, and I felt as though I should devote myself to her service for the remainder of my life. I was a teenager, and a bit naïve, but mostly stupid. I spoke up quickly.
“Well, I think I’d like to learn blade skills from Sara, Father, if that’s alright.”
There were some laughs from the family. Sara Smiled. Father eyed me for a moment, raised an eyebrow then chuckled heartily.
“Alright son, a male magician it is. Your days from now until your first performance shall be devoted almost entirely to studying from Tina and Sara. Remember that it is essential for you to learn both these skills well. Everyone in this room will tell you, we need every hand possible to put on the best show.”
Then there was a party. I suppose it was a sort of welcome for me. I ate and drank and was merry. It was a good time to get to know everyone. Or it would have been, if I hadn’t spent the whole time at Sara’s arm jabbering ceaselessly on about my life. She tried several times to shoo me off, but I was relentless. That night I slept on a straw mattress in a back room of the house. It truly was a huge house.
The next day I delivered myself to Sara’s room, filled with ecstasy at seeing her again. When I entered, I took the room in. The whole room was covered in blades. From stilettos to full bastard swords, there was no sharp edge that could not be found in this room. I could almost not tell the color of her walls, for so many blades on the walls. I was only amazed by this for a moment, however, as I then glued my eyes to Sara, who was looking even lovelier then I remembered from the previous night.
“Hello Tony, I see you made it here alright. I hope you brought gloves today, as you will probably injure yourself.”
I was caught up in the moment, and in her eyes. I was hypnotized by her eyes. I knelt down and plucked up all of my courage.
“Sara, I know we met only last night, but I feel as though I could spend the rest of my life with you. Would you consent to being my bride?”
I was not a smart teenager. Yet, does such a thing ever exist? Sara smiled.
“Tony, in my life I have turned down well far past fifty proposals. But since you are my student today, and you are family, I will give you a chance to have my hand. A magician must always carry his or her props with them on the stage in a concealed manner. If you can find every blade I have concealed on my person, I will marry you.”
I barely let her finish before I began to pat her down. Not for a moment did I cease. It was almost comical the amount of blades I found. The girl had more on her person then she did on her walls. Now, being a man, I spent a bit more time then absolutely necessary around her chest. I was confident, however, that I had found them all. I had about ten pounds of metal at my feet. From pins to daggers onward to a full katana blade she had strapped to her back.
“Time is up.”
I stood back.
“Sadly Tony, you have failed like all the others. Observe.”
She proceeded to pull three more knives from each sleeve, a razor in her collar, and it looked as though she pulled a knife from either ear, though I could not be sure. I was astounded to be certain. Finally, and with great showmanship, she removed a final dagger from her mouth.
“Now, this dagger here is special.”
“Why is that?” I don’t think I kept the sorrow out of my voice.
“Because this is your dagger Tony. It shall have your name on it.”
She pulled a quill from a nearby desk and wrote “Tony” on the blade. She then once more hid it somewhere on her person.
“That is the dagger that shall have your heart if ever again you seek to touch my chest.”
---
Fin part one
---
The Orchestra
I came to my family twelve years ago. I never had a family before. I lived in an orphanage until I was fifteen. I ran away that year. From that point onward, I lived on the largesse of others. Sadly, in a country as poor as my own, that wasn’t nearly enough to live on. Somehow I made it through that year. I remember that night well. It was the night I became a part of a whole.
It was December 27th, two days after my first Christmas alone. It had been a good day, the soup kitchen had been serving beef stew, and I had found an extra coat. At that point, I was living in the cellar of a wealthy man on Ducaine Street. He never came down there, and the external entrance was always left unlocked. I decided that night to indulge myself in a bit of his wine. Being but a small child at that point, I did not know my limits. I don’t remember much more then small pieces of that night until the end. One way or another, I ended up outside. I was clutching my second bottle… Or was it third? No matter. At that point, I could not walk or see properly. I stumbled a ways, singing to myself, vaguely aware that I should probably be getting back to my cellar.
Hours later I laid down. I was on someone’s porch. It didn’t much matter. I was rather tired. Had fortune not smiled warmly on me that night, I certainly would have frozen in the night. Fate had far more interesting plans for me, however. The door I was lying not two feet from swung open a few moments later. I could hear voices.
“Sten, take a look at this. There’s a drunk on our porch.”
“He’s too young to be a drunk. He can’t be more then fifteen.”
“Regardless of what he is, what he’s doing is lying on our porch. Shouldn’t we do something to help him?”
“Yeah, probably. Bring him in. He can meet Father when he comes around.”
I was vaguely aware that I was being moved. The next thing I knew, I was resting on a rug near the fire. I heard one of the men apologize to me, saying they didn’t have much room, and it was the best they could do for now. I mumbled some sort of thanks, and slept.
I awoke the next morning. I looked around to try to figure out where I had ended up in last night’s travels. There was a man seated in a rocking chair. He must have been around fifty then. Despite this, he looked much older. His hair was a shade whiter then the snow outside, and his face displayed his many wrinkles proudly. He saw I had awoken and spoke, his voice sounded far stronger then he looked.
“Son, you have awoken. You have come to my family in rags and without a coin to your name, and we want to help you.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. I don’t get much help around here. Can I ask you where I am? My memory of last night is a bit foggy.”
“You are in a farmhouse six miles east from Skinsend.”
I wondered briefly to myself how I managed to wander six miles out of town in a drunken stupor. Looking back, I must have been guided by fate.
“I want to offer you a place in my home, as we do need someone to play the flute. You see, I run a small traveling musical performance. This is where we live when not on the road. Our last flute player tragically passed on during the journey home. Poor Charles had a nasty spill off the Gaines Bridge. We are family here, and need men we can trust. You are yet young, and have sworn no fealty to the world. If you will stay, you can be one of us.”
I readily agreed. Considering what my life had been up to that point, a family of musicians was better then not having a family at all.
“What is your name, young man?”
“Tony, sir.”
“Then Tony, I welcome you to our company. My name is Martin, but call me Father as the others do. Though I have no children by birth, all whom I take in are my children. You will have three meals a day, an instrument to play, and maybe even a proper place to sleep.”
This is what he promised me. I found that I received so much more from the kindness of my new family. After meeting father, the two men that had found me last night dragged me into another room and cleaned me. I imagine I looked quite a mess at that point. I hadn’t had a bath in months, and my clothes were ragged. My hair was a nest for all sorts of heinous things. Once my being had been properly purged of a year’s impurities, they gave me new clothes.
“If you are to join us, you must look the part.” Sten said.
Something about what he said struck me in an odd fashion. Look the part for what? I decided it didn’t much matter. Whatever play I was acting in was certainly better then being in no play at all. So I was dressed in finer clothing then ever I had before, and my hair was combed, looking in the mirror, I could scarcely recognize the man there as myself.
I asked the men their names, though I already knew one.
“You will find this out soon enough” The man who was not Sten said.
This time I was not dragged, but led, into yet another room. In this room I was given a coat. We left the room and went out into the cold winter air. I asked where we were going, and Sten pointed to a barn a few hundred yards away. We marched through the snow. I was glad they had given me sturdy boots, as it had snowed more since last night. We reached the barn. The man who wasn’t Sten opened the door. I saw that the inside was of the deepest black. Sten pushed me inside. Then he and the other man closed the door behind me. I was alone in a dark barn. I could see nothing around me. Then, someone struck a match. I saw the face of my new Father. Then, the sound of ten other matches striking.
I saw eleven faces in the dark, all smiling at me. I was terrified. Then four of them lit lamps they were holding, and the barn was flooded with lights. The others blew out their matches in one quick synchronized motion, as if moved by one mind. Each of them had an instrument. Once the matches were snuffed and thrown to the ground, they began to play. Such a sound I had never heard before. It was music played with true passion. I stood in the middle of the barn, taking a moment to view each player. After what seemed like a delightful eternity, the music ended.
“Welcome, Tony, to the family.” Father said.
“These are your new brothers and sisters.”
He took me around the circle to meet them. There were Tino, Milo, and Malcom who all played Violins. Sten played the Cello, as did the man who had assisted in my bringing here. I found his name was Hans. Sara and Christiania danced while clicking the castanets. Marcello and Victoria had been married for a few years, and each sported a mandolin. Tina played the flute, being the sole lone player aside from Father. Father himself sang. He sang with a voice that didn’t seem to belong to him. Despite his aged appearance, he sang with the intensity of a far younger man. When the introductions were through, he gave me a bit more insight into the operation they ran.
“The song you heard just now is not one we play outside of this barn. In an actual performance, only about half of us play at a time. We don’t want to overpower the audience with our craft. This is why we all pick up other talents to amuse the masses. Think of our group not as a rather large band, but as a rather small carnival.”
This was the best way anyone could have put it, I soon learned. Sten and Hans were both masters of juggling, Tino was a contortionist, Milo was able to balance about anything on his forehead for an extended period of time, Malcom was a snake charmer, Marcello played the part of the strongman. The women were magicians. Sara dealt in blades, Christiania in cards, Victoria in appearances, and Tina in disappearances. Father didn’t mention if he had a side act, I assumed he did not. Since he was the only singer in the troup, he probably preformed each time. He did, however, explain how I fit in to all of this.
“So, as you may have realized, poor Tina is without a brother flute-player. This is what you shall do. Each day she shall instruct you to play. When she has deemed you able, you will perform along with the rest of us. I would suggest you also pick one of us to learn a side-act from, unless you have a talent of your own.”
I would like to note to the reader at this moment that I was currently smitten with Sara almost completely. She was by many measures the finest girl I had ever laid eyes upon, and I felt as though I should devote myself to her service for the remainder of my life. I was a teenager, and a bit naïve, but mostly stupid. I spoke up quickly.
“Well, I think I’d like to learn blade skills from Sara, Father, if that’s alright.”
There were some laughs from the family. Sara Smiled. Father eyed me for a moment, raised an eyebrow then chuckled heartily.
“Alright son, a male magician it is. Your days from now until your first performance shall be devoted almost entirely to studying from Tina and Sara. Remember that it is essential for you to learn both these skills well. Everyone in this room will tell you, we need every hand possible to put on the best show.”
Then there was a party. I suppose it was a sort of welcome for me. I ate and drank and was merry. It was a good time to get to know everyone. Or it would have been, if I hadn’t spent the whole time at Sara’s arm jabbering ceaselessly on about my life. She tried several times to shoo me off, but I was relentless. That night I slept on a straw mattress in a back room of the house. It truly was a huge house.
The next day I delivered myself to Sara’s room, filled with ecstasy at seeing her again. When I entered, I took the room in. The whole room was covered in blades. From stilettos to full bastard swords, there was no sharp edge that could not be found in this room. I could almost not tell the color of her walls, for so many blades on the walls. I was only amazed by this for a moment, however, as I then glued my eyes to Sara, who was looking even lovelier then I remembered from the previous night.
“Hello Tony, I see you made it here alright. I hope you brought gloves today, as you will probably injure yourself.”
I was caught up in the moment, and in her eyes. I was hypnotized by her eyes. I knelt down and plucked up all of my courage.
“Sara, I know we met only last night, but I feel as though I could spend the rest of my life with you. Would you consent to being my bride?”
I was not a smart teenager. Yet, does such a thing ever exist? Sara smiled.
“Tony, in my life I have turned down well far past fifty proposals. But since you are my student today, and you are family, I will give you a chance to have my hand. A magician must always carry his or her props with them on the stage in a concealed manner. If you can find every blade I have concealed on my person, I will marry you.”
I barely let her finish before I began to pat her down. Not for a moment did I cease. It was almost comical the amount of blades I found. The girl had more on her person then she did on her walls. Now, being a man, I spent a bit more time then absolutely necessary around her chest. I was confident, however, that I had found them all. I had about ten pounds of metal at my feet. From pins to daggers onward to a full katana blade she had strapped to her back.
“Time is up.”
I stood back.
“Sadly Tony, you have failed like all the others. Observe.”
She proceeded to pull three more knives from each sleeve, a razor in her collar, and it looked as though she pulled a knife from either ear, though I could not be sure. I was astounded to be certain. Finally, and with great showmanship, she removed a final dagger from her mouth.
“Now, this dagger here is special.”
“Why is that?” I don’t think I kept the sorrow out of my voice.
“Because this is your dagger Tony. It shall have your name on it.”
She pulled a quill from a nearby desk and wrote “Tony” on the blade. She then once more hid it somewhere on her person.
“That is the dagger that shall have your heart if ever again you seek to touch my chest.”
---
Fin part one
Doesn't sound like his death was accidental... people can't even get their stories straight.
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