Chapter Text
“Did you hear about that old place in the center of town? You know, the one that used to be a bar or something like that?”
Now, Rockstar wasn’t one to eavesdrop on purpose. He would never do such a thing, trying to butt into other people’s gossip and personal business. But playing his guitar on the side of the road, with his bright red guitar case propped open in the case of tips, sometimes the people standing around just didn’t know how to lower their voice.
“No…? Oh! Wait, yeah! I have. Kinda a shame what happened to that place, huh? What about it?”
“Well, I heard they were gonna finally clean that place out. It’s pretty much just been gathering dust on the inside for a long time now. Gonna put something else there.”
The bar in the center of town, huh? Rockstar tuned his guitar thoughtfully. He’s passed by that bar a few times already. It was an old unit, part of a long walkway of various shops and eateries, the only permanently-closed establishment in an otherwise bright array. The shop had been closed for a while apparently, even before Rockstar even moved into this town.
“Maybe it could be a bar again. There ain’t anymore bars around here, at least within walking distance.”
“Maybe…I was kinda hoping it would become a café. Same thing, right?”
“They are so not the same thing, the hell are you talking about? Seriously?”
The conversation dissolved into laughter, and Rockstar took that as his cue to pack up and leave. He was already overstaying his welcome here, anyway. The sun was starting to get pretty low, and he knew a few crowds wouldn’t like him making so much noise when it hit a certain time.
He unplugged his portable amp, wrapped up his cords, and finally laid his peppermint guitar to rest in its case after clearing out all the tips inside. He hefted the strap of that case onto his shoulder and across his body before stowing the amp away into his nearby parked car.
Every day was the same like this — Rockstar would wake up, get ready for the day, and spend many hours on this very same street, playing for tips and barely scraping by on rent. Escaping the Oven gifted him with the power of rock ‘n’ roll, but after many fruitless endeavors to do something greater with it, this life of a street performer was the best he managed to end up with. It wasn’t bad. Rockstar didn’t hate it, in fact. People loved his music, and he always had a few familiar faces coming to listen every once in a while. Just being constantly strapped for cash and having no time to hang out with friends anymore were things he could certainly do without.
But, oh well. That was just the way it is.
As Rockstar shut the trunk door of the car, he thought back to the bar the strangers were talking about. He had seen it. He knew where it was. That poor, dilapidated chunk of building, basically just sitting there unused and uncared for. Occasionally he got a peek into the unit where the window covers did not quite shield from the public, and saw that there were still things left inside.
So if what those strangers were talking about was true, then maybe he could go pay that place a visit and do a little…pre-cleaning. Perhaps. If it’s remained untouched for ages, then surely no one would miss anything that might be still left…?
He decided to go. What did he have to lose anyway? After locking the car doors, Rockstar took just himself and his beloved guitar to the street where the old bar was sitting along. It wasn’t that far of a walk, only one or two blocks and around a corner before he spotted the cloth-covered windows displayed directly beside a rather cutesy-looking clothing boutique. The aesthetic of those two storefront windows really clashed, unfortunately.
Rockstar walked up to the bar’s door. He looked around for anyone watching before attempting to pull on the handle. It was locked, unsurprisingly. But that actually wasn’t too much of a problem — if there were two things Rockstar was good at, it was shredding the guitar like a beast, and picking locks.
Apparently, getting locked out of your apartment several times in a row is a great incentive to learn a new skill, because just a few paperclips and a bit of luck later, Rockstar managed to pry the old door open. Hearing the satisfying click become undone was like music to his ears, promptly ruined by the old and rusted door hinges struggling to keep quiet. Immediately he was hit dead-on with the scent of dust, wood, and old cardboard boxes.
“Man. They weren’t kidding.”
It really did look like a bar on the inside. Vaguely. The chairs and stools that were left forgotten on top of the tables were already getting their legs chewed out by mites, and the shelves where the alcohol would have been displayed were wrapped in so many cobwebs, the thing was almost white. Rockstar took his cellphone out, and turned on the flashlight function so he could see a little better.
This place was barren. Even inside the cardboard boxes that were leftover from whoever had last been here, there was nothing but junk and old parts. Spiders were crawling up the walls in every corner. It was more like a haven for bugs and small animals than any suitable business, especially for a bar. It was hard to imagine people once gathered here to have fun.
Rockstar nudged aside some empty boxes and stray bits of wood with his foot as he went further inside. The dust hanging in the air reflected what little rays of sun were peeking behind the black cloths covering the windows. He moved his flashlight around, taking a good look at the place, before he managed to shine it onto the knob of another door.
A back room, he thought to himself. Of course the bar had a back room. He took his sleeve and pulled it over his palm, using it to clean away a golden plaque that was nailed into the front of the door. “Employees Only”, it read.
He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it. To his surprise, it was unlocked. The doorknob itself was old, no longer shiny, with dust probably clogging its mechanism inside somewhere, but Rockstar managed to get it to work before pushing the door open. This new room was even darker than the first room, so he left his phone on top of a wooden crate in there with the flashlight up, so the place could be more illuminated.
By the looks of all the empty crates, it could only ever be a storage room. That much was obvious. There was another door on the opposite wall, as well as an old, dirt-smudged window, but neither seemed like they had been touched in ages. Rockstar immediately began rummaging through a bunch of things, trying to find something that he could use or sell. Most of it was empty glass bottles. Possibly could be recycled for extra cash, but it was a shame that he didn’t bring a suitable container to carry them in.
“Is there nothing really in here…?”
He sighed in frustration, tossing aside another box. Rockstar looked around the storage room. He realized how sad it must look for someone like him to be scavenging in an abandoned bar, but it was a little more exciting than just going home to unceremoniously pass out in his bed. At least this way, there might be something cool or valuable hidden underneath all the dust. Rockstar peeked down into the place where he had just cleared the box from, moving away yet another row of glass bottles before he spotted something sparkly hidden underneath.
He stopped searching, and a grin spread across Rockstar’s face. Immediately he reached in and pulled the object out. Getting a good look at it now, he realized at once, even in the dim light of his phone’s flashlight, that it was a party mask.
A mask…Something was telling Rockstar that this could be the valuable thing he was looking for.
The strange mask was intricately made, he noticed. A cream-colored base wrapped in patterns of thin gold thread, outlining the place where one’s eye would have peered through, had it been a normal mask. But here, there was no cut-out for someone to look through. Instead, the gold thread weaved the illusion of a closed eye with long and delicately curled eyelashes.
A large golden rose bloomed upon the upper corner of this mask. Rockstar’s fingers gently felt upon the petals, and to his surprise, the flower was real. Or at least it gave off the texture of a real rose. He turned the mask over in his hands, confirming that there was no stem attached to this golden flower. No leaves either to draw sunlight from. So it was rather odd that, in this dusty old storage room, this seemingly-real flower had stayed alive. Especially with the lack of light…
What was it doing here anyway, this mask? It was an odd place to leave something so beautiful, in the back of an abandoned bar. But whoever left it didn’t matter, and neither did when, as Rockstar’s mind immediately went to the figurative price of this artifact — how much would it sell for, he wondered? Surely some snobby rich people would love to get their hands on something so materialistic. Especially one that looks really, really fancy.
He gazed at the front of the mask, admiring it for the last time, before taking a deep breath and blowing the dust off of the surface. But, much to his shock, instead of a plume of dust being created, a cloud of gold glitter rose into the air with the breath. Rockstar stared at the glitter cloud as it began to fall toward the ground…but it stopped after just an inch, and hung in the air like a strange, bright fog.
“What in the—?”
No sooner did the words come out from Rockstar’s mouth did the cloud of glitter begin to move. It reversed its motion, slowly beginning to rise up into the air. And with it, the mask did the same, floating up on its own like it was somehow possessed.
Rockstar’s eyes went wide, too freaked out to try and snatch it back. He quickly backed off, not wanting to get wrapped up in whatever haunted ghost shenanigans were happening right now, but something about the way the cloud glimmered so brightly wasn’t allowing him to even look away. He watched in awe as the cloud and the mask appeared to join together, a vague shape of another cookie taking place within the glittering, golden mist.
Just what the hell was this thing?
“Ahh, finally…!”
A voice spoke suddenly, sounding as if its owner had just woken up from a nap. It made Rockstar jump. The glitter cloud stretched its “arms” to affirm that fact.
“About time someone roused me from that dreadful slumber—!”
“What the fuck is happening.”
The cloud’s arms immediately dropped to its sides at the interjection, and it turned swiftly in Rockstar’s direction, as if to stare incredulously at him.
“Excuse you! How vulgar a vocabulary you have, sir!” The voice spoke again, this time with offense. The cloud with the golden mask leaned in closer to Rockstar’s face. “You are in the presence of greatness! Come on, show me some respect! Do you not know who I am?”
Rockstar refused to budge or speak again. A moment passed before the cloud let out a sound akin to a deep, deep sigh.
“…Of course you don’t.” For a second, it was as if the brightness of the golden cloud faded. But it returned very quickly to its usual color, though its voice still carried a dejected tone. “Who am I kidding. It’s already too late. You have no clue who I am, or what you have just done, did you, sir?”
Stiffly, Rockstar shook his head.
“Yes, yes. I figured as much.”
The cloud, in its figure of a cookie, drifted towards the grimy, sealed-shut window of the storage room. There, it took a seat on one stack of old crates, and appeared to cross its legs doing so.
“Before I explain: have you heard of Wishmakers, sir?”
…What? Wishmakers?
It was a sudden inquiry, but…The name certainly rang a bell in Rockstar’s head. He remembered reading about them once in a museum he visited last summer. Of course, he didn’t exactly retain any of the information, figuring that he didn’t really need to know about something that was already long dead. Why would he, anyway? Old magic was, well…old.
“I’ve…heard of the name. Don’t know what it’s about,” Rockstar cautiously responded. He couldn’t believe he was talking to a sentient glitter cloud right now, but that’s just what fate had in store for him today, he guessed. “Are you…are you one of those?”
The cloud literally lit up at his answer. “I am! Good, good! The name hasn’t been lost to time yet, so I can’t be too far off from…”
There was the sound of mumbling as the sentence almost immediately trailed off. But before Rockstar could ask what they were saying, the thought was picked back up again.
“Wishmakers are what you expect, sir. We make wishes.”
Rockstar watched as the sitting cloud stood back up, though its feet barely touched the floor. It was stationed at a hover, gliding forward until it ended up in the center of the room.
“We take the desires of Cookies, their thoughts, hopes, and dreams, and forge them into reality in any way we see fit.”
“Oh, so like…genies?” Rockstar dusted off his sleeves, having unglued himself from the wall he had pinned up against in his shock. He saw the cloud shrug in response.
“Sort of. It is a similar concept, but not quite…You see, Wishmakers are not restricted by a wish limit. Our magic is just our job. It is for the benefit of those we serve, and for the benefit of our birthplace.”
“That birthplace being…?”
“The City of Wizards, of course.”
Rockstar vaguely recalled the City of Wizards being mentioned in that article at the museum. Wasn’t the City a really far away place, though…? Maybe he should have paid more attention to what he was reading. “So you can grant wishes…indefinitely.”
“Well, it’s not quite that simple. It actually depends on the wish, and— Oh, my!” A sudden gasp. “How rude of me. Here I am, going and spilling my backstory when I have not even asked for your name.” The cloud reached one hand out to Rockstar, simply motioning to him. “What should I call you, sir?”
“O-oh, me?” Well, having been asleep in this storage room for who knows how long, Rockstar really couldn’t blame this talking, masked cloud for not knowing who he was. “I’m Rockstar Cookie. Greatest pioneer of rock ‘n’ roll in this era!”
“Rockstar Cookie!” The cloud repeated, and laughed in delight at the name. “What a wonderful title. My name is Sparkling Cookie.”
The introduction was accompanied by a grand and polite bow.
“At your service.”
The almost dramatic display caused a skittish smile to appear on Rockstar’s face. A genie, standing right here before him…No, not a genie. Something better. A Wishmaker.
The possibilities. The things Rockstar could wish for that he couldn’t otherwise have. This odd fellow, this cloud of gold with its magic mask, could be the key to solving his rut. With Sparkling’s magic, all of Rockstar’s problems could simply vanish into thin air, and the world could be none the wiser. Money, a comfortable house, even friends…Daydreams of a worry-free life already began to form in his head…
“Ahh, I know that look in your eye, Rockstar.”
Rockstar’s gaze snapped back up to the mask. Did he look that deep in thought?
“The power to wish for anything is a power anyone would want, is it not?” Sparkling slowly drifted in a circle around Rockstar. “I know this much. I know what Cookies like you desire with someone who can make hopes into promises.”
Of course, Rockstar thought dejectedly to himself. There’s always a catch. Always. “If you’re worried about me using you to take over the world, I’m not really interested in that, my guy. I’m not a supervillain. So you can relax.”
“Comforting, but that’s not what I am talking about.” Sparkling stopped circling, pausing just in front of Rockstar. Now that he was much closer, Rockstar could make out the faint form of a long, billowing robe, draped loosely around Sparkling’s shoulders. “I am talking about the price.”
Rockstar blinked. “The…price?”
“Yes. The price. The price of a wish. The price of a thousand wishes. Wishmakers just don’t conjure something from nothing. That would go against the laws of nature, would it not?”
“I guess…I’m not really into the whole wizards thing, you know. I’m a street performer. I barely know anything about…magic.”
Sparkling let out a sigh. “Yes, I suppose that would make sense…See, in order to make wishes—“
SLAM!!
The sound of the bar’s front door being literally knocked down caused both Rockstar and Sparkling to jolt five feet into the air. It was quickly followed by many small footsteps, and then a loud, commanding voice. Shrieky…but commanding.
“Find that mask. Find it now! The Enchantress wants that thing in her possession immediately!! Move, move!!”
Sparkling hovered backwards in fear at the voice, looking around everywhere at the dusty old storage room before his eyeless gaze settled back on Rockstar. Rockstar’s expression stayed frozen in horror as he stared back, occasionally throwing a quick glance at the door.
There were other Cookies after the mask. After the power to wish.
“Spar—“
“Shh!”
Rockstar felt an invisible force immediately clamp his mouth shut. Sparkling’s smooth voice became a lot closer, suddenly. Echo-y. Like it was being planted directly inside his head.
‘Listen. We can’t stay here. I’m lucky it was you who woke me, otherwise I would have been dead meat.’
The doorknob to the storage room began to jiggle, making Rockstar startle once more. With a hasty wave of Sparkling’s hand, one of the heavy boxes slid across the floor on its own in front of the door, blocking it from being opened — for now.
‘Here, this will buy us a little time…Listen. Despite being able to grant most things into existence, on my own, I can only do so much. I imagine you are interested in getting out of here without being caught stealing, so I need you to do something for me. Quickly.’
Rockstar nodded. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice here, whether he wanted to listen to this mysterious, golden apparition or not. He glanced once again at the doorknob, which was being jiggled with increasing force. A clearly-frustrated voice on the other side began grunting to try and push the door open with the box in the way.
‘I want you to wish to be on the other side of that wall.’
Sparkling pointed his hand towards the wall with the dirty window in it. On the other side was the back alleyway of the bar. Rockstar knew. He had been down that alleyway before — if he could get there, then he wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught, or worse, kidnapped. But with the back door of the room also locked shut without a key in sight, there was no chance he could force himself through without revealing he was inside this room.
“What’s taking you so long?! It’s a stupid old door, not an iron fortress!”
That same, demanding voice complained, sounding more and more impatient.
“Ugh! Get out of the way!”
The jiggling stopped. Rockstar relaxed, thinking the following seconds of silence could give him the chance to peek out at who was there—
Bang. Bang! Bang!!
But, of course. Nothing can ever go his way.
‘Rockstar,’ came Sparkling’s voice yet again, spoken softly yet laced with a frantic edge, ‘Focus! I need that wish if you want to live…!’
And wish he did indeed. Rockstar closed his eyes, trying to focus on that desire alone, to spare himself the trouble of meeting with whoever wanted Sparkling’s mask. He shut them tight, trying not to listen to the hinges of the old wooden door just beginning to give way. With all his might, he wished, he hoped, that he could get out of here and be safe on the opposite side of that wall.
The voice in his head then spoke in what could only be an indescribable tone.
‘Your wish shall be forged.’
A strange feeling washed over him. The insides of Rockstar’s eyelids suddenly became bright in almost an instant, and the invisible clamp on his mouth fell away. That sound of that violent knocking on the door beside him became very dull, like it was far away. He opened his eyes and saw that he was no longer in the bar.
He looked around. Yes, this was definitely the back alley just outside the storage room. He turned his head to glance behind him, and he saw the same musty window, with the same locked back door that he saw when he was inside. It seemed that he really had just passed through a wall to get to where he was standing…Or was it that he teleported?
“What are you standing there for?!”
Sparkling’s voice called out to him. Rockstar looked further down the alley where it was coming from, and spotted the same glitter cloud with its intricate golden mask, hurriedly beckoning him to follow.
“Come on! Quickly now, before they decide to bust down the back door too!”
Their escape wasn’t over just yet. Rockstar wasted no time in running towards him, eventually making his way out of that alley and over onto the connecting sidewalk. But when he turned the corner, Sparkling was nowhere in sight. Confused, Rockstar made a full 360 just trying to look for that bright, masked cloud. Where did he go?
“Hey, over here.”
Rockstar quickly turned to look, only to suddenly find himself in the presence of a rather tall stranger, face framed with bubbly golden hair and dark green eyes. They looked like they were dressed for a more formal event, with the black slacks and green suspenders and red ribbon around their neck…but just by the sound of their voice, Rockstar knew very well that this was no stranger.
“Whoa, Sparkling. This some kinda cool vessel you’re piloting? Are you possessing a guy’s body right now?”
“What? No…This is my real body.” Sparkling frowned as he rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, just up to the elbows. “I’m not a ghost, Rockstar. I don’t possess people.”
“Bummer. Wait, then how did you…?”
Sparkling managed to roll his eyes, though it seemed more playful than genuinely annoyed. “Magic, of course.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, and gestured with his head down the length of the sidewalk, wanting Rockstar to follow before heading in that exact direction.
Rockstar pulled yet another confused face at him before obeying. He had to walk more swiftly than normal to keep up with Sparkling’s long strides, but he didn’t really mind that much. He was much more focused on Sparkling himself. Why Rockstar decided to get roped into this, with this weird guy, was something even Rockstar himself didn’t know. All he had done was bust into some old, abandoned joint, rummaged around for anything interesting, and wound up with some magic man with magic fingers. Or something like that.
A magic man…that someone was after.
Wishmakers…Rockstar couldn’t help but think about that word again. It was a real shame he couldn’t remember what he had read about them, but if what Sparkling told him was true, they could grant wishes without limit. At least, that’s what Rockstar first thought. Sparkling spoke about a price to pay before their conversation was interrupted by another party of ransackers. They hadn’t exactly gotten all that far into the details by then, and even now, Rockstar still had so many questions.
He stopped walking, a thought crossing his mind. “Hey, Sparks.”
“Hm?” Sparkling paused himself, a stride or two ahead, and glanced back at Rockstar. “Are you addressing me?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I just tend to give nicknames to people, it’s easier for me. Is that cool with you?”
“By all means.”
“Okay. Sweet.” Now that he had Sparkling’s attention, Rockstar began deciding what to ask. Where to start… “Listen. I…still don’t exactly know what’s happening.”
There was an intrigued look in Sparkling’s eye. “I thought I explained it to you back there.”
“Well, yes. But actually, no.”
Sparkling fully turned to face Rockstar then. Man, this guy was tall. A head or two taller than Rockstar, in fact. And for what, anyway? “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand…”
“All I did was sneak into that bar and pick up a mask. I had no idea you were in there.” Rockstar looked towards the ground. “To be honest, this wasn’t exactly the thing I had planned for today. I didn’t want to accidentally summon a magical being and end up running from mask burglars…I don’t know a thing about you, other than the fact you’re one of those…Wishmaker people.”
He looked back up at Sparkling’s face. The other’s expression was unreadable.
“You were asleep in there for some reason, I woke you up, and now you’re dragging me along to somewhere. Why? Where are we even going?”
Sparkling’s following silence was…uncomfortable. Not in an awkward sense. But it was more like it made Rockstar feel very wary. He felt like poking into this business with these questions was going to bite him back in the ass later, but Rockstar had to know. He had every right to, as the one who woke Sparkling up in the first place.
“I need you to help me.”
Rockstar looked surprised, but his frustration became more evident when folded his arms. “Were you even listening to a thing I was saying, man? I’m telling you, I don’t know you or why you were in there. Just because I happened to dust off your dumb, shiny mask doesn’t mean you can drag me around without an explanation as to—“
“I was listening. I know what you said.” Sparkling slowly turned back around, facing the sidewalk ahead. “I am just saying, as the first person I’ve seen in a long time, I need you to help me. But even I know that you have no obligation to listen to someone you met only a short while ago.”
Rockstar narrowed his eyes at the back of Sparkling’s neck. It was quite a stare, as even Sparkling felt the eyes burning holes into him.
“I will explain to you what I was doing there, why, how, when…I can tell you what you want to know.”
“Then tell me . Just who the hell are you, and what is a resident of the City of Wizards even doing in an old, shoddy building…? And why do you need my help?”
Sparkling’s shoulders rose and fell as he sighed. His head dropped to look at the ground again before he lifted it, turning to gaze at Rockstar’s face. There was something sincere in his expression. An emotion Rockstar couldn’t figure out. Sparkling was smiling, yet the smile that would usually show happiness seemed so unnaturally…hollow.
“You know I can help you. Whatever you need, whatever you want, if you wish for it, I will bring it to you. I offer you my services in turn for your assistance. I know your situation. Why else would you be scavenging for materials in an abandoned bar?”
Ouch. As much as Rockstar hated to admit it, Sparkling wasn’t wrong. “…Why were you there, then?”
“It’s a lot simpler than you think, actually. There’s a reason why I was buried in the back of that bar, put to sleep until you picked me up. The City of Wizards, its residents…its Wishmakers. For all of us, the sleep was intended to be eternal.”
Rockstar’s eyes widened. Eternal? “So in other words…”
“So in other words: We are all supposed to be dead.”