Impossible Albion

The morning dew touched the foliage and grassland all across the land of Albion.

Even the slummiest of places, Bloodstone was waking up, the creepers of the night coming out of their shadows to enjoy a new day.

A small gypsy wagon pulled into the town, intricate silver designs lacing the outside. A lantern swung around as the wheels pushed over the cobblestone path. Scrawled across the top of the wagon there was an old sign painted in curvy letters: Ivy Impossible.

A woman sat in the front her dark top hat dipped down low, shadowing her eyes. The wagon came to a stop, the horse was tied up, bit taken from its mouth.
Ivy climbed into the wagon pulling out a worn wooden table, a small bag, and a cage containing a sweet white dove. Soon little by little, people gathered. A small jeweled box was placed in front of the set up and a table sat behind it. Ivy to everyone's surprise, was a traveling magician. She did card tricks and disappearing acts, she was amazing, almost unfeasible. Bloodstone being the, run-down, crime filled town it was, enjoyed this simple and innocent act of entertainment. Ivy noticed a rather posh looking man appear during mid day. He wore red and a rather preposterous bow, rather cowardly looking in a way. He pushed his way to the front and waited to be impressed.

Ivy went into the cage cradling the bird carefully in her long ivory fingers. It sat still in her grip as she touched its head. There was little rhythm to it until she wrapped her hands around its head and pulled it off. The crowd gasped. There was no blood but it was obvious its head was gone. Ivy smiled her fang filled grin. Adding a bit more to her act. Shocking to the crowd, in her hand was its head. A woman in blue fainted and Ivy pushed her hand back to where the birds head had recently been and it appeared. The posh man laughed clapping slightly, Ivy bowed and looked up. His brown eyes looked mischievous, not that her silver-white eyes were any better.

A different man pushed to the front. He had graying hair and what seemed like a noble mans wardrobe.

"Reaver my lord!"

He said to the posh man with a bow.

"Yes, Fritz?"

Ivy started to put her bird back in the wagon as the conversation was fading. When she emerged, the crowd had dispersed little by little. Reaver, she believed his name was, stepped up slightly; he recoiled at the sight of her moon tinted eyes but then straightened himself.

"That clock at your side," He said referring to the small pocket watch that swung at her hip on a leather cord.

"I would like it, how much do you want for it?"

Ivy looked at him for a moment.

"It's not for sale."

"I am aware but I want it."

"I don't care."

Ivy glanced over his velvet shoulder to the man behind him who stood obediently.

"Are you listening to me?"

He spoke a bit of venom dripping from his words.

"No, I was not."

Reaver looked down at her disgusted by the refusal and he walked away, strutting.

The sun set and Ivy lay across the driver's bench with her eyes closed. She fingered the metal clock before letting it fall back to her side. She heard someone approach. She opened one eye and glanced over. It was that man from before, not Reaver but Fritz with a smile on his wrinkled face.

"Can I help you?"

Ivy muttered before shutting her eyes again.

"My master said he was trying to buy your pocket watch."

"I'm not going to sell it." Ivy said not moving from her position.

"I know, I was just wondering what was so special about it."

"You can't get it from me. No matter how much you flatter me with your aristocratic tongue." She said sitting up now looking down at him, he hesitated. She couldn't blame him; with her appearance anyone would have had second thoughts.

"Yes, I believe I'm much better at persuasion then my master Reaver, yet I don't plan on getting it for him."

Ivy nodded in agreement; she looked next to her patting her seat.

"So what is it you're here to bother me about exactly?"

"Just a bit curious about you." Ivy looked at him confused, "Why?"

"You're an obviously single woman, in a wagon, completely alone. You're a traveling magician with a set of pale moonlight eyes and a set of canines."

Ivy raised an eyebrow before listening some more.

"You have curls of ebony and porcelain face to match. Why exactly are you alone?"

Fritz was a bit amazed. He was expecting a simple answer, something of self choice, not of dread and dismay. She had explained that she had grown up in a small town which was destroyed long ago.

Her parents had been cursed, or at least there child to be. Which for the most part explained her strangely colored eyes and her overly sharp canines. Not soon after her fifth birthday her parents were killed by a band of bandits and she was left alone, until a strange man stumbled upon her one day. He would grow to teach her many things along with magic until her 15th birthday much before she was ready to live alone he was killed. She had never had a good relationship with anyone after that, she also left out the pocket watch. Being what he actually wanted to hear about he reminded her politely.

"So where did that pocket watch come from?"

Fritz asked.

"When I was younger around the age of ten, I met an apprentice of a clock smith and we were together for about a year, she made it for me before she left." He nodded slightly and climbed down from the carriage.

"Well, yes thank you for your time, milady."

He started to walk away but looked back slightly.

"My master asked for your name."

Ivy smiled a little.

"Ivy von Belmont."

Miranda rushed through her shop, her assistant rushed around as well checking everywhere.

"I can't find that damn piece!"

She grumbled under her breath looking at the pile of scrap bits on her table. She grabbed up her coat and walked toward the door.

"I shall be back; I have to run to bloodstone."

Her assistant looked weary but nodded anyways. Miranda wasn't the most direction savvy person around.

After getting completely lost, and having to run for her life from highwaymen and bandits. Miranda was getting sick of being alone and lost in the un-navigable forest, when she noticed an old worn sign with the name Bloodstone carved into its flesh. Miranda immediately picked up speed and ran in the direction in which the haggard sign had pointed.

Miranda was walking up a slight incline, a few more feet and she would be able to see Bloodstone in all of its glorious dirt and disease. Sadly the only person she could get clock pieces from decided to live in such a place. She found the prostitutes extremely deterring. As she strolled into town she noticed a rather large group standing all around in a bunch and at the front was that irritating pig of a man Reaver. She didn't care how extreme or how first-class he could shoot. He was a burden on the whole world as far as she saw. The group seemed to be watching something around a wagon.

There was a roar of clapping and cheers as Ivy preformed through the day. She noticed a newer face among the crowd, obviously not a very common dweller she didn't look as…..exotic as the other women around town. ~~~~Insert description~~~

Miranda was surprised the last time she had saw a magician was around 12 or 13 years ago. She was surprised to notice a pocket watch swinging at the magician's side.

"Ivy?" Miranda said in a harsh whisper. The magician dropped the ball she was juggling and looked over. Everyone laughed and she rolled her eyes, she could stand there all day and these people would still be entertained. The woman who had messed up her act stepped out a little more. Ivy couldn't hold back the grin, her old friend Miranda.

It was such a surprised for the both of them, it had been at least 14 years since they had saw each other and catching up was going to take a long while.

"So what are you doing in a place like Bloodstone?" Ivy asked kicking the jeweled box closed with her foot.

"I was getting clock pieces, and I got a little lost but I'm here now!" Miranda laughed with slight embarrassment.

"Fortunate for you, I happen to know where the clock maker's home is." Ivy smirked.