Nestled comfortably on a street corner on one of the avenues of Anteronia is a pink-and-pastel facade with expansive windows and frilly curtains. Signs written in flowing script announce to all comers the business's identity. The waiting aroma of bread and coffee tells the typical passersby the exact nature of the establishment. It is, of course, Baker’s Bakery, and to the average Anteronian, it is a place of indulgence and rewards.
To the girl approaching from around the corner and into its alleyway entrance, it is her place of employment.
Libi steps into the side door and into the women’s locker room. The young woman is primarily unremarkable–slightly curvy with hair, skin, and eyes of various shades of brown and gray. It is a dull appearance that blends into the crowds of the city. When she changes out of her simple streetwear, she slips into a pastel chef’s jacket and slacks, wrapping around herself the Baker’s Bakery apron decorated with a caricatured version of a gingerbread man with fabulous pink hair and a winking smile.
“Someone’s in trouble today, Libi”, snickers a voice from around the woman’s hips.
Libi looks down to see the half-naked goblin woman reaching in to pull out her casual shirt, which she slips over her large head with some difficulty. When she finally pops through it, her pointed ears wiggle, and she looks up to Libi with a bright, trap-jawed smile.
“Good morning to you too, Geneviève”, Libi says. “I’m not awake enough for silly goblin riddles.”
“Not a riddle”, the goblin says. “Boss wants to see ya, and you’re not in yet.”
“And you?” Libi asks, a smirk forming on her lips.
The goblin shrugs. “I just got off, and I’m gonna go get off, if you know what I mean”, she says, wiggling her brows.
“Right, right”, Libi says, patting down a stray cowlick on her brownish-tan hair.
When she arrives at the kitchen, a wooden mannequin, featureless save for the pink chef outfit it wears, sits hunched over a piece of paper and a book. It scribbles notes while running a wooden finger along the page.
“Designing a new look, boss?” Libi asks.
The mannequin closes the book and stands, spinning on one foot and facing Libi with arms open wide. From no mouth, a voice rings out in a sing-songy voice. “Ah, Libi, darling. Yes, I’ve a great new body I’m designing for an expedition I’ll take with Tik Tik. If all is successful, we’ll have a new supply of a special ingredient. Knock on wood.”
Baker taps his temple, giggling.
“Sounds good, but you wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Oh, certainly, Libi dear”, Baker says. He scoops up a pile of papers and hands them to the girl. “I’m promoting you to head of marketing. I’ve wanted the normal, everyday sweeties to enjoy the sweets on offer here. Sadly, many seem to be a bit, hm… overwhelmed by our richer clientele.”
Libi frowns. “And by ‘head of marketing,’ you mean ‘stick these fliers everywhere I legally can?”
Lacing his wooden fingers together, Baker nods. “Indeed, darling. However, from what I understand, something is happening at the park today, and you should check it out. Who knows what free publicity we can score from attending a public event under the table.”
“Gotcha, boss”, she says, holding the papers close to her chest. A trip to the park is much more entertaining than serving customers in the front, any day.
—
Though not quite the center of Anteronia, the park is within easy access of those whose lives revolve around the hustle and bustle of the city. This includes the prestigious guests at La Floraison Éternelle, the grandest hotel on the continent and a place ripe to attract tourists with the deepest pockets.
Among the statues and gardens of the park, the impromptu show at a gazebo begins at everyone’s favorite price: free! Of course, a red top hat rests on the first step, where the viewers are encouraged to donate.
The show’s star--a young man adorned in an identical hat, a flashy mask, and a glittering cape, all accessorizing white gloves and a red suit that seemed equal parts dignified and dynamic--is an illusionist; sleight of hand, rather than actual magic, and hypnosis were the tools of his trade, but he wielded them as expertly as an accomplished surgeon. In his performance, paper doves shed authentic feathers, participants and the Showman levitate, and items disappear, reappear, and change their sizes and shapes.
Most fantastically in his act is his use of volunteers from among the audience. Each starts off surprised to be picked, then eager yet anxious to be on stage and the center of attention...but, once that particular performance ended, they stepped down and returned to the audience, no less worse for wear after unknowingly entertaining the cheering public. Libi caught herself watching a bit of the show, entranced by how easily he seemed to turn ordinary people into performing puppets only to turn them loose without protest; if this illusionist took control of her, in front of so many people, what might he make her do...what could he make her do...and would she remember any of it? Would she want to?
“And now, my wonderful audience”, the entertainer--Magnificent Mesmer the Mysterious, or so proclaims at least one banner for the show, draped over the gazebo--declares to the crowd, “I require another volunteer. This one is for great work beyond the simple tricks of earlier. I assure you, this shall be one for all of you to remember!”
Libi--recalling her task--makes her way forward through the crowd while carrying the flyers under her arms; in her bright outfit and moving closer, she’s easily discernible from the rest of the audience.
“You!” Mesmer calls out, pointing to her. “Shall you come to the stage and partake in the mystical arts?”
Libi freezes, her eyes widening, her whole body petrified like the statues that line the park. All eyes turn toward Libi, and she can feel them all upon her, waiting and expecting.
Gripping the papers tightly, Libi swallows and speaks, “W-well, I just came here to do some advertisements, but…”