Once, a long time ago, in a land far away, there lived a parrot. With striking gold and scarlet plumage, the parrot had a long beak and tiny black eyes that were particularly remarkable for seeing things at a distance. The parrot lived in a placed called Sorsabia, where all of the greatest sorcerers in the world gathered every year to make merry.

In the town of Sorsabia, the villagers were kind and not wealthy, but not poor. All of the Sorsabians were delightful people - all except for one guard at the palace, which stood tall and gleaming every morning as the sun rose over the village. The guard's name was Rabian, and was a muscular boy who had lived at the palace for all of his life as a charge, an orphan at birth. In return for the Royal hospitality, he guarded the valiantly, every day, without wavering. Indeed, he was much in debt to the King.

Unlike most of the residents of Sorsabia, Rabian was not a sorcerer. He was one of the only commoners in the entire village, and the parrot enjoyed spending his days mocking him.

"Rabian the Commoner, sitting on his wall," squawked the parrot gleefully, and always managed to dodge the stones that Rabian threw to shoo him away.

"Rabian the Commoner, nothing to do at all!"

The parrot never tired of his song, and sang it at least ten times a day.

When Rabian reached the age of fifteen, he finally decided to do something.

Sorsabia was a desert land, one with little resource except for magic. Because Rabian was not a sorcerer, he could not resort to such tactics to be rid of his pestilential visitor.

One evening, during the week of Samhein (the week when sorcerers from all over the globe flocked to Sorsabia,) Rabian was pulling open the doors to the palace for guests of the King.

First in line was a woman dressed in a magnificent tapestry of magenta. She lowered her painted eyelids at Rabian and nodded calmly while passing on her horse. The next in line was a young man with a full beard and twinkling blue eyes, who smiled. Rabian smiled back.

After a parade of nearly fifteen high-ranking sorcerers, Rabian began to pull the doors shut.

"Wait!"

Rabian glanced over his shoulder, still clutching the slightly frayed ropes in his calloused hands. A little old man was limping toward him with a tall walking stick, a ruby coloured symbol embossed in his slightly worse-for-wear robes.

"Young master, could you hold the door?" called the man as he quickened his limp. Rabian looked behind him at the palace - was this man invited to the gala?

"Are you on the list, sir?" Rabian smiled at the man, and the man gave him a toothless grin.

"Of course I am, my child. If I am not, you won't mind adding me, will you?"

Rabian hesitated, and puffed out his chest.

"Why would I do that, sir?"

The old man's eyes glittered as he leaned on his cane and held out his hand in a fist.

"I know what you want, my boy."

"And what is that?" demanded Rabian, in a rather more boyish tone that he'd desired. He flushed as the man opened his fist to reveal a silvery powder.

"What is-"

"This is sorcerer's dust," breathed the old man raspily, leaning closer to Rabian with dark eyes, "It's the secret behind all of the fancy tricks that we pull off. Do you really think that we're special, son?"

Rabian gulped and the old man laughed.

"You'll let me in, young man, if I give you this... when I tell you that one blow of this sorcerer's dust will get rid of that nasty pest you've dealt with for a very long time..."

Rabian drew a fast breath. How did this man know about the parrot?

He stared at the man's wrinkled fingers, shaking in the wind.

"How about it, son?" winked the man, and Rabian took a last glance at the palace, then nodded.

The man dropped the dust into Rabian's hand carefully, and as Rabian pulled the doors shut, he thought that he had done the right thing, of course. Getting rid of the parrot would help the King, for his guard would no longer be so distracted.

Yes, he thought, I did the right thing.

He took his seat, perched on top of the wall, and stared into the sparkling dust. It didn't look very magical.

At that moment, he could hear a squawking noise from just over the hill. The parrot soared toward him, and seeming to grin, sang,

"Rabian the Commoner, sitting on his wall!"

Rabian drew his hand into a fist, raised in into the air-

"Rabian the Commoner-"

-he pulled his arm back-

"-nothing to do at-"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

At first, Rabian had thought that the parrot had screamed.

Unfortunately, he was wrong. The parrot had flown away in fright at the sounds coming from the palace.

Rabian whirled around on his perch and watched in horror the scene below him.

A tall man with a staph stood on the highest perch of the fountain, an evil grin occupying his face. Below, three elegantly dressed woman lay on the ground, motionless. The King was left standing alone, a long, sharp piece of wood in his outstretched hand.

He shouted - but was cut off by a ray of blue light that pierced the air and hit him directly in the chest.

The tall man roared triumphantly, and then looked up at Rabian with a wicked gleam in his dark eyes. He gave a little wave, and Rabian lost his balance, falling to the ground below...

Rabian became an old man in the deserted city of Sorsabia, guarding the castle of the King he had once been so loyal to. He sat on the wall until his very last day, and took his last breath to the words,

"Rabian the Commoner, sitting on the wall!

Rabian the Commoner, nothing to do at all!"

The moral of this story is, never trust strangers.