Opinion please. New fantasy work!

Hello All,

I have posted here the first chapter of a book that I am working on.

Please post your opinions. Thank you ever so much!

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The Toy Maker and the Trickster
by Wade Hawkins

PART I
THE PRISON OF VRANCIA
CHAPTER 1
THE FORGOTTEN PAST

The town that we have found ourselves is called Pazzaria, and exists
within a much larger, and greater realm - the name of which will be
found out later, for it is of little importance now.

Pazzaria is a dark, scary, and foreboding place. It has its bright
sunny days, and equally dark nights. Birds do sing, and people are
generally friendly. What were once grand, artistic ornate buildings
have now turned to nothing but grey and white minimalist structures.
The land seems almost a jail. Unfortunately, for the children,
playgrounds have been turned to roadways for large, noisy and smoky
vehicles. School is taught in the most uptight and rigid manner.
They often learn about "community pride", and are given little time to
play. You see, all of the toy manufacturers have given way to
focusing on the prideful, and very much governmental protection of
this grey, walled, and sad city. Alas, but, it was children we were
discussing. The home we are about to visit is but a small shed of a
glimmering light, almost akin to a candle as it is just about to go
out. Like the rest of this deprived city, the outside of this once
gorgeous cottage has been forced to ruin. Not by the great toy maker,
Fritz Kindermocher's own will! He would never see to it! Pazzaria has
deep, hidden secrets, and has undergone dramatic changes within the
lifetime of Fritz Kindermocher. After paying the community pride
organizers what seems to be endless taxes, there is little money left
to focus on any sort of beautification. Luckily, no one can touch the
inside! Being a genius, Mr. Kindermocher has successfully rationed
out enough to keep alive the memories of a once happier, and much more
beautiful time. For all any of the lifeless Pazzarian's know, the
interior of this home may very well be the last and final
preservation.

The night was filled with a well-ordered hush. The sun set behind the
buildings, giving a simple elegance to the horizon. Two children
walked up a small, unpaved, road towards the cottage, the oldest, a
girl of about ten, named Hidel, dragging her younger brother Hans, a
six-year-old boy, behind her. They were dressed in grey, their shirts
and pants bare. These were common school children and were simple
folk.

When they reached the cottage, Hidel knocked forcefully on the ornate
front door.
As it creaked open, they see the silhouette of an old man.
"M-m-may I help you?" he asked.
"Old man, I understand you have been telling my brother silly
stories."
The boy tugged on his sister's shirt, "C'mon, Hidel. Don't."
"Quiet, Hans," she said, " Well, tell him the stories aren't true."

"I'm afraid you have the wrong address. No stories of such a sort
here. Good bye then."
Fritz was quiet, as he looked at them both, wondering what to make of
their arrival.
"Wait," cried Hans, "It was too! You told me about the man with a
briefcase that turned into a balloon so he could fly."
"Young man, I certainly did not! You have it all wrong. There is no
such thing as a man who turns into a balloon. It was his umbrella
that allowed him to fly, and his briefcase did inflate, but into a
tent, not a balloon. You see these things are important. It is
exactly this that has probably upset your sister."
"So it was you," said Hidel; "You lied to me!"
"Young lady, I never lie. You said you were looking for someone who
told silly stories. I only speak works of wonder and magic! The
others are best forgotten. Do your parents know you're off talking to
strange old men?"
"That's none of your concern!," argued Hidel, "Don't listen to him,
Hans, he's trying to confuse you."
"Yes," Fritz continued, "go back to your home, and don't listen to
stories about the past outside of school history classes. Close your
ears to the ranting of an old man and you will be much safer, and more
than likely, far better off."
"I'm much too old for this," said Hidel with a haughty attitude.
"As you wish, then. Good bye."
Hidel and Hans started to leave as the old man continued to speak,
"Especially since I tell of things that you are not to know of...."
With that he disappeared behind the door, as it swung shut. Within
the cottage, the old man stood silently, patiently at the door, a
smile sheepishly creeping onto his weathered face.
He let out a tiny laugh when he heard a small fist knocking once
again. With an extravagant gesture, he opened it while it creaked
even louder this time.
"Yeeeeeeeesssssss?" he said.
"What, precisely were you speaking of, Mr.?" asked Hidel.
The old man responded in a near whisper, "The past."
"The past?" asked Hidel, "Interesting....
What about it?"
"Oh, no, they must have very good reasons for not wanting you to
know. Ridiculous stories might inspire ridiculous impulses."
"You must tell me all the hideous stuff you told my brother, for I
demand it!" Hidel insisted, "If you don't tell me everything,"
threatened Hidel, "I'll tell the community organizers about how you
have shamefully twisted our poor little brains. With that, they will
no doubt be here at your door faster than the tax man!" "Well child,"
said he, "you are brave and determined. Heed me, though, once you
step through this door, there will be no turning back. The choice is
yours. Don't make it rashly."
They hesitated for a moment. The boy walked in and timidly his sister
followed. You see, while Hidel thought she knew everything, she most
clearly did not. Afraid, they couldn't have been simply due to the
sheer, heavenly warmth that they had never felt, as it was emanating
from inside; just as magically as the their wonderment had been
enraptured by the soothing quality hidden behind Fritz's voice of
sternness. Understand, a decent story time such what we know, these
poor little dears have never experienced.

"Ah, brave children."

One can absolutely feel the history of this small manse, with every
creak from the hand made floor, to that unmistakable old castle must
that hung in the air. Everywhere were remnants of a brilliant toy
maker's mind. Such books that were bound in the most precious
leathers and golds, hung tapestries that showed scenes of a
fantastical, and science fiction nature which appeared to reflect the
light of the central fireplace in as bright a manner as even the King
Imilias VI is envious of. Being of great importance to Fritz, it is
necessary to tell about wacko Imilias! King Imilias is a wonderful,
remarkable creature who only wants the best for his kingdom.
Delightfully, he may not seem like he is fully put together in the
head. Despite other mishaps along the way, our king is inbred, and has
thusly affected the current outcome of his large kingdom. He would do
such fun things as pretend to give karate lessons on top of the dinner
table - during dinner, or, he would go about knighting the criminals
of the land.

The fireplace itself was intensely decorated with relief sculpture of
goblins and fairies, all intertwined with odd leaves and flowery
designs. Inside, a gigantic fire raged powerfully. Standing before
it, the old man seemed tiny. He looked into the flames, and was
almost engulfed in their brightness.
His hand went to the top, where he pressed on the nose of a small
troll's head. Suddenly the fire went out in a quick whoosh of wind
almost knocking the children to their knees. The bottom of the
fireplace disappeared, revealing an endless, dark pit. From below
came a faint hiss of a wind that served as a comfortable air cushion
to guide whomever might ride.
The old man spoke in a whisper, "Beyond is pure mystery. Don't be
afraid.
Step in."
The old man disappeared into the darkness, shouting as he went, hidden
from view, down, down, down. The children stood there all alone, and
had no clue of what to make of it all. Hidel was ready to go home,
but of course, Hans was curious. He bravely, and excitedly rushed in
giving a shout of panic as soon as he was out of view. Leaving little
choice, the sister jumped into the darkness after him.
"Hans come back heeeeerrrrre."

Down, down down, down, ddddooowwwnnn....
It seemed endless.
She screamed, but the air blowing muted the sound.

Finally, after feeling that she might end up on the other side of the
earth, the wind had increased in strength and slowed her fall. She
softly reached the bottom and landed on a steel grate. Soon all
became quiet. In front of her was a very theatrical arched opening,
complete with large red curtains pulled to the sides. Beyond that was
a dark, yet beautiful cave. She cautiously walked forward until she
found a room, radiating sparkling colors. Here, she found Hans and the
old man waiting for her.
Inside, we find a room of even greater contrasting beauty than the
oasis above. Sparkles of every size and color imaginable everywhere!
One may have expected this area, or any part of the house to be full
of cobwebs and dust. Luckily, it has been taken care of with enough
love so that even the most fastidious museum owner would be envious.
Vast remnants of a forgotten time were everywhere. Inside there is an
old carousel, a rocking horse and woodcarvings of every kind. Hung
along the walls were happy marionettes and sad cuckoo clocks. There
were cherubs and toy soldiers, giant teddy bears and porcelain dolls
in dazzling jewel tone clothing. The children could hardly keep
smiles off of their faces. It was like tasting a fine chocolate for
the first time, or feeling an amazing rush in the pit of your stomach
while riding roller coaster with a loop as well, for the first time.
Other fresh and fantastic elements were the ways of how Fritz had so
meticulously found ways to work nature into this wondrous below-land.
You see, large roots from trees above had crept their way in through
planned enforced stonework surrounding holes for them. The roots
eventually found their way into the room where accoutrements such as
chairs and clocks were carved out of their massive structures. Fritz
was genius enough to keep the trees alive after creating such works.
He also delighted in always burning a temple resin incense. Since it
emanates from below, it easily fills the entire house, so that no room
is ever deprived of a sweet smell.

"Well, now that we are all here," said the old man, "Children,
welcome to once upon a time and long ago. This is but a taste of the
world that has been buried."
"What are all these things," Hidel asked.
"Why, they are toys," said the old man.
"Toys?" questioned Hidel, "what are toys for? I love what I see, but
yet, am also confused."
"They make the world a happier place. They help move your
imaginations to the far ends of time and space while being held in the
palm of your hand."
"That doesn't sound legal to me."
Hans ran about exploring all the shelves and their constructed
wonders. Though none existed in his, the toys seemed quite familiar,
and he felt an urge to take them in his hands, and play with them.
Finally he spotted an unusual lump of dust and cobwebs where he saw
something glittering a shiny green beneath the mess of time. His eyes
grew wide. Indeed there was something even more familiar and magical
about what lay covered beneath. As he peeled the last bit of cobweb
away he discovered a brilliantly shaped porcelain doll.
She was ornately clothed in a sparkling, flowing green dress, her red
hair, lush, and wild. She had bright green eyes filled with curiosity
and a mischievous smirk. While Hans was reaching for it, Fritz
yelped,
"Um, Don't touch that!"
"Is that her?" asked Hans.
"Yes," answered the old man.
The old man lifted the doll, holding it before him, inspecting it
meticulously. A tear fell from his eyes, and he ignored it,
enraptured in the figure. His fist began to clench tightly around the
precious figure as he set it down on its pedestal again. He closed
his eyes and listened to music that no one else could hear. He could
almost smell the ocean breeze once more and feel the salty wind.
"It is a very long story," said the old man, "but I imagine it should
be told. Finally, little girl, you will get your wish. Thank you for
being so interested! It was a long time ago. In the dark night a
ship sailed from Shiver for Elysian Bay in southern Vrancia...."