23 June 2012
Chapter 2
The Juggler
The resounding crash still haunted his thoughts. The loud clatter and silent sighs of relief. Five had rolled and he had been chosen. The Geisha had stood in the corner a picture of serenity. Snake eyes had moved their paralysing glare on him.
A loud cheer shook him from his dream. All around they watched in awe. Daggers flickered like silver moths in his hand. Glinting wings flashed in the torch light. Weaving intricate patterns he wowed and hypnotised his audience.
In his clothes of colour he wound his way around the square. Fabric dyed blue and yellow and green and orange, each patch quartered across his body. A mask over his eyes masqueraded his intent. The mask of a wolf worn, it's mischievous fangs sleek and sharp.
Smells of festival and celebration wafted as he made his spiral descent. Fine roasts and rich wine followed his way around the the cobbled paths. Tighter and tighter his trail squeezing the music out in sharp tunes and frantic choruses.
In the centre sat the happy bride and groom. Resplendent in white and black they looked on lovingly at their guests. All across they roared approval of this union.
His moths flitted quicker and sharper as he neared. Tips slicing the darkness above. Standing at the centre of this spiral of joy he waited and performed.
The Juggler waited and watched the night sky. Stars looked down in glee, sending their signals and lighting his way. Starlight so white and pure he wished he could reach and grasp it.
One day he thought. The crowd again had stopped to watch his show. Lack witted nobles who imagined themselves better. Crowded around like a herd of sheep. Daggers flickered and danced in his hand. Hot and hungry in his palm.
The fireworks were set and exploded above. Fire lit up the sky. Like dragons of green and yellow they tore at the sky. Phoenixes of red and orange flew in the night. Moths of silver darted in the midnight ocean.
The display done The Juggler smiled at the beauty and continued his spiral to the edge. The crowd still enraptured by the inferno above.
The dice had been rolled. His hand had played the game. Making his way into the shadows he barely heard the screams from behind. That the white bride had turned red.
©Samurai2012
Dice with Death • Opuss № I