The Visitor

The Mar Desert was a furious sight to behold, especially considering the time of day. One would think that at such an early time in the morning as this, surely nature would be responding in the same positive attitude. The sun peeking lazily over the horizon, flowers slowly opening to greet the new day, animals blinking at the light as they crawled out of their holes, and other such imagery. Unfortunately, in this place nature did not comply so readily as to how we tend to think it should. Here the earliest wakers were the ferocious sandstorms.

But something stuck out. In the otherwise unmarked landscape, miles away from any civilisation, an incredible feat of architecture only relatable to churches and palaces stood. It was quite out of place, along with the modern music a bystander would hear emanating from it.

The song in question playing within the great building, 'Golden Years' by David Bowie, was not a popular song around here. Mostly due to the fact that it should not have existed in this reality. Nor should have the Mp3 player connected to a Yamaha amplifier that was booming it out, or at least not yet. This world was one that still considered the wheel to a modern piece of machinery, yet Lozette did not care for such matters. He liked to listen to Bowie in the morning, and the mere task of having to travel to a different dimension was not about to prevent a sorcerer from getting what he wanted.

He did not fit to the typical image of a sorcerer, which is that of a man with a long nose, a long staff, a long hat and an equally long beard; Generally the type of person who struggles to fit through the average sized doorway. Lozette had tried this image to start with, but after the first two thousand years or so he had decided it just didn't work for him. Immediately after and ever since he had opted for what he felt to be a more fitting image ( Fitting him, that is. The appearance he had chosen someone would naturally imagine to not fit anyone in existence, if you didn't know him).

And he kept dragons. A lotof dragons. After living alone for many years some people have a tendency to lose a small part of their sanity that tells them when they have enough pets. 'The Cat Lady', for example. Lozette had spent a long time alone, and the extent to which his scaly collection had grown beautifully illustrated this.

There was a small change in the air as a rumbling rose in the back of the dragons' throats. Smaller ones start to jump up and down hyperactively, yapping in a way reminiscent to all small dogs in existence. At this disturbance Lozette's head jerked up from the novel he was writing on the faults of humankind, and scowled as he read the signs. "A visitor..." he muttered quietly to himself, his beautifully blue eyes thinning in annoyance.

He was at the door of his palace before the knock had sounded. That was the good thing about pets; they outdid any doorbells ever created. Lozette rarely received visitors- five every hundred years was his average -but the absence had not caused what was left of his heart to grow fonder. With an army of wyrms behind him ready to attack if the offender did not please or bring gifts, he opened the door a fraction.

"What do you want?" he snapped. This was one of his more polite greetings.

Stood on the marble steps on the other side of the door, from what Lozette could see through the crack, the Visitor was a tall, official looking man. He possessed a neat pinstriped suit, very tidy hair and a black briefcase. He resembled efficiency personified. "Excuse me, is it Lozette who I am speaking to? Local sorcerer of the city Hercart?"

"What do you want?" he repeated, answering the question in his own special way.

"I am sorry to intrude upon your time. My name is Mr Ryson, and I come from the Sorcery and Fine Magic Management Court." Upon hearing these words Lozette would have sworn had it been like him. "This is your inspection, just to ensure that you are aiding and helping the community in the manner that you should be."

"How pleasant. You'll be pleased to know that I am, and I appreciate the check up. Goodbye-" He made to shut the door but the innocent briefcase was jammed into the space with such speed it looked as though it could always have been there.

"Actually I would like to have a more extensive check, if it would please you," said the Visitor, his voice having not changed in aggression whatsoever.

"...Fine... fine..." said Lozette in a rather high pitched voice. Lightning reflexes... he could only wonder what dimension this inspector was from. Maybe they had noticed his blasé attitude towards the human race and had decided to crack down on it with a hard hand. "No!" he stressed to the dragons sat ready behind him, awaiting orders to pounce. "I'm going to look bad enough as it is! No!"

"This is rather extravagant," said the Visitor as he stepped in, taking in his surroundings. Extravagant was an understatement; a working fountain stood within the centre of the room, amidst hundreds of worldly treasures. It resembled a watery Christmas tree surrounded by self addressed presents.

"Only the essentials," Lozette assured him. "And the perks of being the most powerful being in the world." It was at this point he mentally caused the music in the background (now 'Space Oddity') to switch off, but the sudden silence was more noticeable than the sound ever had been.

"Mm-hm..." said the Visitor, folding his arms slowly. "Tell me, ...Mister? Misses?"

"Let us stick with 'Mister' for now," said Lozette darkly, but as much as he might not like to admit it the two blurred with him. Apparently, despite his great intellect, he somehow hadn't caught onto the way in which silvery shoulder length hair, a smooth face and eye-shadow can confuse the genders. "Although factually we sorcerers are not truly either." He suspected that the inspector had been fully aware of this piece of information, as it would be absurd for one in his profession not to, but had just wanted a good little chance to insult him.

"Tell me ...Mister Lozette... Where have you acquired such things from?" He wandered towards a table and picked up a small golden statue of a bird. "This looks like one of the monuments from an Earth pyramid-"

"Quite a convincing replica, wouldn't you say?" said Lozette hurriedly, taking it out of his hands and thrusting it into a drawer somewhere.

It did not seem the Inspector was in the mood to take this, however, and gave him a stern look over the top of his glasses. The type of look that does not need the aid of magnifying lenses to be able to see right through you. "Although we are fully aware that a life of splendour is considered to be one of the benefits of your kind, it is not allowable to travel around different worlds stealing precious artifacts."

Lozette stood before him with his arms folded, a pillar of defiance. Unfortunately, no amount of grand sweeping robes could disguise his small brittle frame, which would be no match against the taller, larger build of a man.

"Alright then," he gave in finally, turning away in a sulky manner. "I won't do anymore plundering..."

The Visitor gave a small nod, indicating that although he would have preferred the many items to be wrenched away from his possession, this would suffice for now. "Onto the next point," he continued, as if reading from a checklist. "Me and the rest of the SFMMC have noticed the tragic news that dragons have become extinct in this world."

"Yes, a truly sad turn of events," said Lozette, this time with something near believable concern. "But of course over time all worlds turn away from their magical origins towards the more technolo-"

"There are all in here, Mister Lozette," said the Visitor, as one of the miniature dragons came and sat on his foot in an extremely unextinct way. "This world is scheduled at least another twenty thousand years until it rejects its magic. At this point dragons should still be roaming free and hoarding treasure. They are not," He took an authoritative step forward, "meant to be being hoarded themselves within a single abode."

At this, Lozette looked slightly deflated. "It was for their own good," he said in a small voice, picking up the nearest one and giving it an affectionate little hug. "Knights go out slaying them everyday, but they don't even harm anyone..." This wasn't entirely true. What he meant was, they didn't harm anyone he cared about. This left a rather wide selection, as the scaly beasts happened to be the only creatures in the entire world that he had some love for.

The Visitor gave the unusual person before him a long, hard glare. "The SFMMC would have shown some leniency," he said eventually, cleaning his glasses, "had you at least fulfilled your base role."

"My base role? I do my job to the fullest extent of my ability."

It would not take the greatest of minds to realize that this statement was as much of a lie as it could be. He might as well have said he liked to do the flamenco while wearing a tutu every tuesday for the amount of truth it held. The latter would probably be more so.

The Visitor was not deterred. "May I remind you that your role does not solely consist of lounging around in a marble palace, sending chain letters to various people throughout the many dimensions."

Despite the worry that was developing for his own well-being, Lozette was mildly impressed. They'd really looked into him, hadn't they.

The Visitor then opened his briefcase with a click, and removed from it a small black book. He flicked a finger through the pages and opened it without even having looked, giving the impression that he knew the entire location of the contents by heart. This made it apparent that he was only about to recite from it for effect, as he probably had every single word of the book imprinted against his mind. "Ahem. Sorcerer: One who practices sorcery. Every world has a sorcerer situated upon it in order to solve local problems related to magic, e.g., man turned into frog, wife turned into a pillar of salt shakers, etc." The book snapped shut. "There have been complaints, Mister Lozette. It seems that you have not helped the local community in any way for over one hundred thousand years."

Lozette scowled. 'One hundred thousand years'... He made it sound like an eternity, but in fact for the first thousand years he had actually been quite keen. When on such a huge scale that amount of time seemed quite small, but looking from his point of view, from the guy who was to sit for all time fixing the slightest of woes, it was quite understandable. "No one ever com-"

"People do come, Mister Lozette, and we know this. Do not think that you can fool the very ones who gave you your power."

Lozette scrunched his eyes up, and the extremity to which he began to squeeze the dragon he was holding caused it to immediately leap away from his arms with a yelp. "Alright then!" he shouted, his calm and sophisticated demeanour completely abandoned. "So I haven't helped every little asinine who should come my way with a click in his elbow. Maybe I haven't patched up the knee of every toddler who should fall off his tricycle. So what?!" He slumped against a wall, defeated. "It's not such a big issue."

"That, Mister Lozette, is where I am afraid you are mistaken." The Visitor looked quite different now. At first he had seemed polite, abashed even at simply intruding upon someone's time, but now there was a fire within him. An official, by-the-book fire. "If you do not aid the community, then you are not a sorcerer. If you are not a sorcerer, you do not gain the benefits of being a sorcerer."

"You don't mean-" He stopped. He didn't need to ask. After all this time, to become an ordinary human... to have nothing to make him feel above everyone else... to have no power to travel to anywhere or do anything... to die...

"Yes, Misses Lozette. To die."

Sure, after living for over thousands of years it could be considered a release to die, but he would only stand for it if through his own choice. To have someone else with his life in their hands... it was an unbearable thought.

And then there would probably be a new sorcerer. Someone who would be better than him-

"Alright then, I'll do it!" he exclaimed, taking the Visitor by surprise somewhat.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll show you. I can help the community, just watch." And without time available for another word to be said by either of them, Lozette stormed out of the building.

"Try to make someone higher than me, will they..." he muttered, climbing onto his largest dragon to ride.

Approximately two hours later, Lozette strode back into the palace, attempting to conceal the fact that he was panting and quite unaware that his mascara had run a considerable amount. "Here..." he said, holding out a small, terrified looking frog for the Visitor to see. "This is a Hercartian man who was turned into a frog recently."

The Visitor took the frog, and gave it an inspecting little jab. It began to quiver slightly. "Hmm. So it is."

Lozette keeled over for a second, breathing deeply, before straightening up once again. "...So if I return him to his true form, I'll have helped the community." He panted once more. "Thus fulfilling my role as a sorcerer. Correct?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"Alright then."

The Visitor placed the bewildered creature on the floor, and Lozette promptly began to stare at it.

It was quite remarkable, in the sense that it was completely unremarkable. Waves of light failed to envelope the frog. It did not change colours, and it did not begin to float into the air as it transformed. To put it simply, one moment there was a confused looking frog sat on the floor, the next moment there was an even more confused man sat there instead.

"Ribbit?" he said questioningly, looking up at the two men above him, who didn't appear to be aknowledging him any longer. He just stared up quizzically, waiting until they might choose to make him part of the conversation, and perhaps tell him what the hell was going on.

"Bye," said Lozette to the inspector, with the hint of a smile playing upon his lips. "Have a nice inter-dimensional trip, Mr Ryson."

The Visitor did not seem to share his glee for some unimaginable reason. "This is not the end of the issue about you, Misses Lozette. This is just the start. If you happen to step out of your place once more, just one more time, I can assure you that only the highest ranked at the SFMMC will be coming to put you in a new one."

This only caused his smile to widen. "I look forward to it."

Upon the slamming of the door, the still unenlightened man looked over at the sorcerer, who had walked away and apparently forgotten about him entirely. "Er, excuse me?" he said, getting to his feet. "What am I supposed to do?"

Lozette flicked his hair back and regarded him, as if for the first time. "Oh yes... There is still the matter of what to do with you, isn't there."

"Erm, can I ask something?" asked the man, scratching the back of his head. "...Why did you just suddenly walk over and turn me into a frog a bit ago?"

"Complicated business, you wouldn't understand," said Lozette briefly, and for no apparent reason whatsoever he transformed him into a frog once more and picked him up. "Just be happy with the knowledge that you have aided a higher being than yourself. Isn't that nice."

He then turned towards the nearest window, gave the amphibian a brief little toss to himself like it was a tennis ball and then launched it out into the desert.

"Have a nice day..." he said quietly to himself, with an evil little smile.

Yes, of course it would probably result in another one of them from the Sorcery and High Magic Management Court coming at him again, and yes, to say he was the most intellectual being on the planet it could have hardly been considered the most clever of things to do. But he could worry about that later when the time came. After being alive for as long as he had, you learnt to live for the now.

"Let me see..." he said, pressing a pen thoughtfully against his lips before his wrote. "Congratulations, you have been chosen for the longest running chain letter ever. Just send this to twenty-five other people..."

The End.

This was a short story written for my English coursework. It had to be under the title 'The Visitor'. Since I'm not the most experienced at short stories, I decided to do a spin-off from my main one.

Chain mail starters should be shot.

So... Please review!