Enchantment 1 : Pilot

                “Waka !  Wakasama !  Where are you ?!”

                A sound of shoes clattering echoes throughout the hallway within Satoshi Manor.  Every butlers and maids stare confusedly at the source of the noise.  An old man, in his 40s, walks in full speed across the hallway with a very stern, nervous look on his face.  “FIND HIM,” he commands calmly yet clearly to the audience.  Without a second to waste, all the servants leave their works and start pacing up and down the colossal Rococo manor, searching for one person : him.

                “Wakasama !  WAKASAMA !”  Everyone began to chant the same name.  All of them become restless in their quest to look for that missing someone – the in-house chefs start to rummage their most sacred place, the 200-year-old kitchen; three young butlers continue their hunts in the living room; a small group of panicking maids give a try in the swimming pool area.  Nevertheless, their effort gone wasted as he is still nowhere in sight.  Another day in Satoshi Manor.

                Amidst the ruckus and hubbub below, no one has noticed a pair of eyes carefully watching them from a tall glass window above.  By using his faithful silver mini binocular, he watches everything and nothing misses from his sight.  He gawks at the gardeners whom frantically calling out the name in the wickedly crafted maze garden outside.  He gapes at the butlers in the guest room; gapes at the frustration in their face.  He then lowers his binocular from his eyes, and chuckles softly.  “Guess its our turn now,” he says, informing the other well-groomed gentlemen whom are present in the study room.  Later, the double doors at the end of the room swing open and comes walking the same old man into the room, looking more preserved and calmer.

                “We need you –“ says the old man.

                “Yeah yeah.  We are on it now.”  The shortest one replied before closing the doors behind him.  The old man only watches the doors swing shut.  Then, his smile broadens and he walks away. 

                Poof ! 

                He blows the dust carefully off the old chest.  The small particles of dust seem to be floating within the attic, occupying the atmosphere of the large, antique room.  Yet, the chest is still less than clean.  He peers around the old attic.  An old white cloth lying on the wooden floor catches his eyes.  He slowly grabs it, trying not to make any more dust comes floating.  By using the cloth, he carefully removes the rest of the dust.  “That’s better !” he whispers upon seeing the golden crest of Satoshi Family on the chest vividly.  He then rummages his coat pocket for a golden key with the same embossed-crest.  He calmly inserts the blade into the keyhole, and the chest lid instantly opens after a small twist.  “Come to daddy.”  He unseals the lid wider, exposing all the visible contents in the chest.

                Well-kept inside the chest, numerous photo albums with Satoshi Family emblem materialize once the lid is opened wide.  He grins excitedly, seizes the smallest album situated on top of others, saunters across the attic, and settles in comfortably in a leather armchair in the corner of the room.  He flips the pages carefully in order not to ruin the old photo album of his reputable mysterious family, the Satoshis.

                Located in the outskirt of Languedoc-Roussillon, the Satoshis has been residing Narbonne since 18^th century; and has become the most respected family since then.  Everybody who is anybody acknowledge their power and influences over the region, recognizing them as the Prime Family in South of France.  However, the history of this wealthy family is still unknown even to the permanent residents.  Despite their friendly, down-to-earth attitude, and the fact that everyone loves the Satoshis, the stories behind the walls of Satoshi Manor remains foggy and blurry, and no one seems to be bothered by it.  “Everybody knows they are great people.  There’s nothing else to hide” – the same simple statement uttered repeatedly by locales in Narbonne since their arrivals till today.  No one knows who they really are, except for the Satoshis themselves and those acquainted with the family.

                One loud laughter fills the cold air in the attic.  “Oh my God.  This is priceless !”  He wipes a drop of tear from his right eye due to excessive laughter while his eyes are still fixed on an old picture of a baby.  Without realizing it, he has been up in the attic for hours by now; and still, he is enjoying his alone time in the old room more and more as the time passes by.

                All of a sudden, the door leads to the attic cracks open quietly.  Little by little, long slender fingers emerge from the other side of the door, and with their little might, they push the door slowly to create zero noise from the movement.  Once the door is opened ajar, five black figurines stand before it; all eyes onto the young man in d corner of the room.

Do you know about the Satoshis ? Hush...