♥ Giftee: @efie-oshita (It won’t let me tag you! I’m so sorry!)
♥ wc: 1k
♥ a.n: This is my gift for you! Pure fluff with Mozart! There’s a hint of spice in some of their suggestive dialogue but nothing scandalous. I hope you enjoy!
The waves crashed gently against the shore, accompanied by the lovely melody floating through the small house. It was as though you’d awoken in a vivid dream. A dazzling painting come to life. But this was no dream.
You lifted your arms to stretch over your head, letting the satin sheet fall down around your waist. Through the window, the lapping waves and bright sunshine greeted you, along with Mozart replaying the song he wrote for you.
The song he wrote andplayedas you walked down the aisle just yesterday. Some might find it odd to have the groom provide a performance while his bride approached the altar. It was simply an extension of his love for you. His melodies speak soft notes of love.
I wrote this for the lovely @readerinsertfanfiction for my Ikemen Vampire Gift Exchange. I really had a lot of fun exploring a new character I haven’t written for, as well as your OC. I hope I was able to to justice to Anya and Vlad’s story <3
Summary: Vlad finally lets Anya back in after all their years apart, and vise versa.
Vlad stood at the top of the hill. Overhead, the sun was shining down brightly, heating the crown of his head and causing an almost discomfortable warmth to envelop his body. He threw his cloak to the ground, the deep red roses all bending slightly at the weight of the offending object.
He heard something quiet behind him. So quiet that a normal human wouldn’t have heard and if they did, they would assume it to be the wind rustling the tree branches.
“Anya,” Vlad’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, but she heard him loud and clear in the open space. She had followed him from the castle to the hill, aiming to stay hidden, but once he walked through the roses, she felt both him and the prickly flowers beaconing her. So she took a tentative step forward, and paused in her tracks as he turned and met her eyes with his own. “It’s been far too long.”
Run. Far away. Just like all those hundreds of years ago.
Distance yourself before anyone else gets hurt.
“You knew I was following you,” It wasn’t an accusation, but a statement. He knew, and she fell right into his trap.
This wasn’t like her. She was always careful, always kept her distance. Anya never stayed long enough to get caught.
Dear Diary - Comte de St. Germain x Reader x Vlad (Ikemen Vampire)
A/N: This is my gift to @tiny-wooden-robot in the Ikevamp Gift Exchange - I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to @ikemenlibrary for organizing the fun event!
Pairing: Comte de St. German x Reader x Vlad
Prompt: angsty love triangle
Warnings: angst, Comte’s real name, a little bit spicy towards the end
Dear Diary,
Earlier today, I ran into my friend with the flower cart. His name is Vlad. He seems so kind and sweet, and he has the gentlest smile…
“Hello again!” a familiar voice called out.
It was a beautiful sunny day; you were so distracted looking at all the pretty flowers in bloom that you almost didn’t notice your new friend standing in his usual spot with his colorful cart filled with flowers.
“Vlad!” A genuine smile spread on your lips upon recognizing him. “What a pleasant surprise.”
A gift fic for @ikehoe as part of @ikemenlibrary’s Ikevamp Gift Exchange - thank you Bryn, for putting this together for us!
Rating:G Theodorus van Gogh x Female Reader Additional tags/warnings: mutual pining, light angst, fluff, 1600+ word count
AN: I hope you enjoy, Chonk! :)
“And for the Van Gogh brothers,” you start cheerfully, proud of the way you’ve balanced the two hot plates on your arms, “tall stacks, heavy on the syrup for Theo.” You set one plate of pancakes in front of each brother.
Theo opens his mouth to say something to you. Before he can, you grab a silver dish from the rolling tray behind him and set it next to his plate. “Extra syrup,” you say, a little smugly.
He closes his mouth.
“Oh, you’ve gotten really good at this,” Vincent remarks, his cornflower blue eyes lit up with delight. “It’s almost like you can read his mind.”
His words hit you somewhere near your ribs, triggering that all-to-familiar ache in your chest. It always starts the same way, and if someone were to ask you to describe the feeling, you would tell them it feels a little like heartburn: a flicker that begins beneath your skin and works its way into a full-blown inferno in no time at all. If only it were true that I could read his mind, you think to yourself ruefully. If that were true— You cut the thought off before it can go any further. “Well,” you start, flashing them a smile that never falters even though you can feel the corners of your mouth trembling with the effort to hold it. “It isn’t hard to do. Theo’s breakfast preferences are very predictable.”
You will never get used to the way you feel when Theo looks at you… and you will never stop wishing that one day you will see love or affection in that gaze. You’ve dreamt about it, longed for it, hoped against all odds that he might one day look at you with feelings that mirror the ones in your heart.
it’s been a long time coming my dears but after some gruesome semesters I finally have the will power to continue . I understand I’ve been away for almost a year and thoughts might have changed about the characters but I’d really like to comeplete the game either way. I hope you all could forgive me for my absence and enjoy this round with me ❤️.
If you think this elimination game hasn’t done justice for your mans, let me know I can always host another one and see if the results are different. I’m not too sure if there will be as many participants, I hope there will!
For anyone stumbling across this post and was wondering wtf I’m doing, here are the rules feel free to join in and cast a vote .
A circus that only opens at nightfall. The same cast performs the acts, no matter how many years have passed. Individuals who once came as children recognize the smile of the lion tamer or the confidence of the acrobats, wondering if they are the same people from all those years ago. But of course, such a feat is impossible – even for a circus.
Elizabeth’s desire to stay remained even as the final night began, the flood of patrons at sundown a ferocious swell. She forced herself to enjoy the circus in a half-hearted attempt to ignore the feeling, spending her last evenings chasing Napoleon and Sebastian around through their favorite tents.
The Star Chaser tent had caught her attention when she had passed it by with Vincent and Theo earlier that week. It was rumored that incredibly lucky patrons might have the chance to catch a falling star while they wandered through the tent – the rare souvenir from the circus that did not come from a ticket stub or candy bag.
Under this faux sky, Elizabeth believed that they looked completely out of reach. Napoleon and Sebastian both confessed that they had yet to catch a star of their own, chalking it up to being members of the circus.
“All my wishes are already true, for the most part,” Napoleon admitted. “It’s just wanting to improve my magic now.”
“You still look so relieved when you say that,” Sebastian said, deadpan. “Are you that thrilled that she knows our secret?”
“Of course! Keeping it a secret this whole time, concealing our magic… it was more stressful than my first act!”
The three laughed, Elizabeth most of all. The now ever-present ache swelled up in her heart as she did so. She was going to miss moments like this, more than she could care to admit.
So when she opened her eyes and saw a falling star, instinct took over first. A silent wish trembled at the back of her mind, ever present since last night.
Then she remembered the stories of this tent.
A star would be something tangible to remember the circus by. To take home.
She went chasing after where she had seen it fall, leaving Napoleon and Sebastian behind. She knew that they would always be close, naturally following her two seconds later to keep a close eye on her.
The star had reached the ground. It was near-blinding up close, but began to decrease in intensity as she knelt down to pick it up.
Then she felt something else take hold. From one caught breath to the next, one moment ticking to another, Elizabeth was suddenly aware that her body was not her own. It forced her to hand, arms still stuck out awkwardly until pushed to relax.
Is this what Sebastian and Jean felt? When Vlad cast his spell? I— I don’t— I can’t—!
“Hello. It’s nice to get to see you again.” Vlad laughed darkly as he leaned over her shoulder, looking down at the star that lay at their feet. “You shouldn’t need to wish for something you can have so easily. If you just asked The Illusionist ever so nicely, I’m sure he would let you stay.”
She wanted to cry out – to demand that he let go of whatever foreign hold he had placed over her body – but instead he came and wrapped an arm about her waist.
“Forgive me, but I think we should wait for your ever-watchful protector to arrive. In fact…” He gestured down at the star at their feet. “He’ll be here soon.”
The star, which had been steadily dimming, now glowed even brighter, nearly blinding Elizabeth until she was permitted to close her eyes.
The Illusionist’s voice came before his figure did.
“I had to stop my show for this?”
He appeared when Elizabeth opened her eyes. Vlad let out a laugh as Elizabeth caught sight of The Illusionist’s dark and furious expression, unlike any face that he had worn before.
“It’s nice that you bothered to stop by and visit an old friend,” Vlad taunted, tucking his chin against Elizabeth’s frozen shoulder.
“I more see it as stopping a trespasser who knows that he has no right stepping foot into my circus.” The Illusionist gave Vlad a discomforting smile, all venom and no warmth. “You should have sent a notice ahead of time so that I could grind it into dust.”
“Still insisting on clinging to the circus, even when I know you’re just trying to fill the gap in your heart? Do you know how long I believed the lie I told myself? That you were gathering all these silly little students for another proper duel?” Vlad’s polite tone was soon spit through his gritted teeth, angry and harsh. “Only for you to disappoint me time and time again?”
“That’s what I was in the end – a disappointment. And that has not changed.”
“It changes tonight! I found two suitable candidates for the duel of a lifetime – the perfect vessels for my teachings. So, I saved you the trouble and found a partner with enough magic and mettle to fight them.”
“You know my stance on forcingstudents to take éternité.”
“Ever the gentleman to ask for permission. And that made your studentsweak. As soft as their master.” Vlad crushed the fallen star then, grinding it beneath his heel. “Too soft to offer this young woman a chance to change her destiny. Because I know he can sense how powerful you are. Can’t you?!”
The Illusionist stood resolute. “No.”
“What a load of shit. I know you can!” Vlad’s voice flared, frustration thinly veiled in his voice. Elizabeth felt a rush of instinct, pushing against his arm. She only earned a tighter grip for her efforts.
“Never,” The Illusionist declared, his voice thick with anger. “I will not force éternitéon helpless people who do not know what they are agreeing to. Who do not know the difficulties that will come with such a life. I will not do as you do and force it upon others.”
“And what does that get you? It gets you people with useless powers. Has your little inventor been able to do anything on his own yet? What have your artists and ‘conceptualists’ given you? You are wasting the power of Latent magic. There’s enough magical potential in her to leave even your best and brightest pupils behind! You can’t let her power go to waste! Give her éternité,or I’ll do it myself!”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I know you can’t stop me. You have this whole circus under your protection. You used up enough magic this past week trying to prevent every single one of my purposeful accidents before they occurred. All you did was tell your little students to watch out for me. Never once did you tell them to use their own magic to watch their backs.”
“They shouldn’t have to fear someone like you, who is too weak to resist temptation. Now, let her go.”
The command was accompanied by a thundering roar from above their heads.
The stars in the false sky shuddered before falling in a grand waterfall. Vlad dove back, dragging Elizabeth with him – his grip and magical hold loosening for a moment.
That was all she needed.
She pulled back, separating and rushing toward The Illusionist. The cascading stars that separated them were white-hot, their heat growing as she forced herself closer to them. Any distance would do, she told herself, to get away from Vlad.
But just as the stars singed strands of her hair, someone else grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the falling star. Their hold was less aggressive, more welcoming. It was then that Vlad finally caught sight of her and her unknown companion, lunging forward—
— and his hand struck an invisible barrier that neither Elizabeth nor Vlad could see. As Vlad stared down at her, the stars finally finished their fall. The tent went dark.
“I’m afraid you’ve encountered one of my specialties,” Sebastian’s voice said from behind her then, the same polite tone he always had. “I’m the one responsible for those protections you encountered around the circus, not our resident Illusionist.”
Vlad scoffed, pushing off the barrier. “It’s easily broken.”
“Then I dare you to break it.”
The man looked as if he intended to do just that, but a crackling fire snapped at him a second later, forcing Vlad to counter with a well-timed crest of water that forced it back. The Illusionist still stood proud and tall, manifesting and throwing a dagger that aimed true for Vlad’s heart.
It missed with a swipe of the Vlad’s hand, heading off into the depths of the tent. The Magicians resumed their duel, more aggressive than before. Their magical attacks lit up their grim, concentrated expressions.
Shakespeare’s fortune, told just over a week ago, echoed in the back of her mind.
“A strong, powerful figure. Currently very prominent in your life. Or possibly influenced your life’s path. The reversal implies that the figure is also concealing something. About themselves or the circumstances. They didn’t tell you everything.”
The golden outline of The Hierophant on his gilded throne had once seemed impossible to decipher.
But now he could have been either of the men that dueled before her.
Neither showed an ounce of fatigue, but as Sebastian continued to hold Elizabeth’s arm, she sensed his fingers shaking against it.
“Sebastian?”
“Just stay still, Elizabeth. And forgive me if I do not offer my usual pleasant conservation.” He smiled, gritted teeth visible behind trembling lips, illuminated by the sparking magical attacks around them. “It is taking every ounce of my concentration to maintain this.”
Her hand went to his. “You can do it, Sebastian. Hold on as long as you can.”
The trembling stopped a moment later, a quiet acknowledgement passing between the two that Sebastian could still keep going.
The duel had now reached a feverish pitch. A large arcing slide cut the tent fabric open wide, the pitched black of the space now open to the blue night sky. All could be seen now.
And that included Napoleon, who finally appeared from the darkness. At his side was Leonardo, who appeared from the darkness flanked by others from the inner circle of the circus. The fighting did not cease, but Leonardo’s voice carried over it regardless, magically enhanced.
“Did you really think that he wouldn’t take his necessary precautions?” Leonardo declared, a wicked grin on his face. “Every one of us has got a bit of the circus now. And speaking of that, your ex-friend told me something interesting… that, despite your students being the better players, our resident Illusionist was always the stronger magician.”
There was a break in Vlad’s expression then – bleakness flickered in his red eyes for but one moment – then replaced with a fiery anger.
“That explains it, then,” he spit out, The Illusionist pausing in his attacks as Vlad continued speaking. “This fight has felt unfair since the beginning.”
“You always did want me to acknowledge how good you were,” The Illusionist said with a wicked smile. “I suppose you will have to hear it another time. Give it another millennium or two.”
Vlad took one, two steps back – then his gaze snapped to Elizabeth and Sebastian. With swift strides, he was outside the barrier once more, joined by six floating swords. One at his neck, another at his back, and the remaining four hovering over where limbs met his torso.
“One more move and you will leave in pieces,” The Illusionist said coolly. “And I would rather not let the lady see that.”
“I just wanted to perform one last act,” Vlad said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Perhaps a trick far more effective than anything either of us can do.” Leaning down, he paid no mind to the sword’s edge that touched his neck as he did so, drawing blood.
“You have magic, my dear. And you’re better than the rest of them because you can already use it. This barrier—” he rapped it with his knuckles, no sound coming from the act— “It’s only still up because of you. So I suggest you reconsider going home. There’s something here for you after all. You’re stronger than you could ever believe. You don’t ever have to leave.”
“Vlad!”
The swords sliced through a thick black smoke. The barrier collapsed then, Sebastian falling against Elizabeth for unprepared support. The two tumbled to the ground. The Illusionist rushed over to them both.
But when Elizabeth looked to him with a mixture of hope and fear in her eyes, The Illusionist heard her question before she uttered it in a single, stunned breath.
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
“I have magic?”
The Illusionist had not wanted her to come to this realization. Their meeting should have been happenstance – a chance encounter at the circus, a later return within five years to reassess her progress. To see if she was willing to throw her entire life away to join their traveling troupe.
He had felt her potential the moment she set foot in his circus. In his tent, the sensation had been even more apparent. He knew that the peak performance he gave that evening was due to her influence. An old, unwelcome sensation gnawed at his heart – a desire to stealher away from her life entirely and push magical studies on her until she was the perfect magician.
That desire was crushed as swiftly as the pen he crushed to black ink next to her seat.
However, all his resistance had been for naught when Vlad forced her into his circus. He knew he could send her back across the ocean with magic, remove her memories, and leave her behind.
But perhaps a greedy, undesirable part of him had wanted to keep her. Just to see if she would stay.
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
“… Yes, ma chérie.” His words were tinged with a pained regret.
She did not ask her second question until Sebastian and the others had been safely tended to, and she was settled once more in The Illusionist’s tent.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked as she stood next to him.
The obvious second question. “It was not a fact you were prepared to hear. Despite being part of this circus, despite being forced onto our train – it was not my place to tell you. This is not part of your life’s path, not yet.”
“But I could have helped! Maybe I could have been able to fight off Vlad or protect myself!”
“Do you remember what I said about éternité? It was purposefully manifested to grant our students the lifetime they needed to learn their magic. It is a curse and a blessing in equal force. You could not have mastered the magic needed to protect you against Vlad, not in the span of three days.”
“That…” Elizabeth’s gaze dropped to the ground, shame in her eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize.” The Illusionist reached out, tucking a finger under her chin to lift her head higher. “The fault of your arrival and lack of return is all mine. Therefore, it is my responsibility to see you safely home.”
“… Will you at least tell me about my magic, then? Before I go. Am I like you and Leonardo?”
“Not in the slightest. There are two forms. My form – and Leonardo’s – are Potent Magicians. Our magic is passed down through our families. It is far stronger than the magic that exists in humans like yourself and everyone else in the circus. We’re able to access it from a young age.”
“But humans…”
“You cannot dream of magic like ours. You possess Latent Magic, which we refine into Manifested Magic. It takes years, longer than lifetimes to gain the full potential of your magic. That is why éternité exists. It exists because two very selfish men wanted to see who was the better teacher. And now it propels this entire circus.”
Elizabeth knew the regret in his gaze now. It was beyond her mortal comprehension – centuries of pain and suffering that would have killed a weaker individual a hundred times over. This man wore it beneath a smile and a cryptic turn of phrase, so practiced that it was as natural as breathing.
She did not prod further – and nor was she given the chance to, as a mechanical machine soared through the flap in the tent. Elizabeth jumped back as it came to a shuddering stop above their heads, only able to examine it proper once The Illusionist reached up to bring it down from the air. A tiny bird had been crafted from gears and spare metal bits.
“Enchanting and manipulating objects is a fondness of Leonardo’s,” The Illusionist explained as he took a paper from the piler-tipped beak. “Which falls perfectly in line with what I asked him and Isaac to finish for me…”
“What did they make?”
The Illusionist rubbed the small note between his fingers, letting it fade into a small shower of silver sparkles. “Would you like to come see?”
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
“Come look!” Isaac declared as they arrived. “We just put the finishing touches on. We were almost done, but…”
“No matter.” The Illusionist waved off the comment. “Thank you for doing it at all.”
Leonardo, clearly in the throes of wrapping up something, gestured vaguely towards the rest of the tent. “They’re on the table, Isaac. Get them for me.”
Last time Elizabeth had been inside this tent, it had been in order to help Jean after his horrific sword-swallowing accident. Now, she was permitted the moment to glance around the over-crowded space. Any surface was crowded with little mechanical parts, absent scribbles in two handwritings, and half-finished inventions that still miraculously moved on their own.
One invention suddenly jumped to life next to her – a large frog with pearl-like eyes – causing her to step back with a slight squeak. Isaac rolled his eyes, but picked up a box from next to the mechanical creature as it hopped off the table and out of sight.
“Here. These are for you. Leonardo helped to make them more stylish, since The Illusionist said we should. We hope these are something you’ll wear.” Isaac awkwardly thrusted the box towards her as Leonardo finally stood up from his desk, joining the group. “Let us know if you won’t.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, accepting it. When she opened the box, she gasped at what was nestled inside.
She lifted the golden chain out from the box, a small golden butterfly dangling at the bottom. Iridescent wings caught the tent’s hanging lights, sparkling in a thousand brilliant colors. Left in the box was a bracelet of a similar make, the butterfly dangling from one of the interlocked chains.
“Oh! Isaac! You should have at least said they were beautiful!”
“The butterflies were Leonardo’s idea,” Isaac confessed.
“And something you sketched out,” Leonardo teased with a smile. “But these bracelets are meant to protect you from harm. We wish we could have finished them sooner, but…”
As Leonardo spoke, Elizabeth could not help but be distracted by the occasional gear or part that whizzed across the room, perfectly slotting itself into one machine or another. When one whizzed just shy of her cheek, Isaac finally let out an irritated sigh and glared at Leonardo.
“Can you stop fixing your inventions for two seconds?”
“I’ll forget the idea unless I do it or write it down,” Leonardo said back, his tone unbothered. “Ideas always come to me when I’m doing something else.”
“As they do for the best of us,” The Illusionist agreed. “Now, you were saying?”
“Ah, right. Someone in the circus will be alerted if magic is used on you or around you, whether you’re a country or an ocean away. Because we can’t really do anything depending on the distance, though I’m sure they’ll try—” His glance to The Illusionist did not go unnoticed— “It also generates a protective field around you. It’s a weak one, so the best bet is to start running if it goes off.”
“How lovely,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “Thank you. I can imagine this took a lot of magic and time.”
“It was nothing.” Leonardo declared dismissively, Isaac nodding in agreement. “We even made some spares, in case something happens to the ones you’ve got in your hands.”
“The best thing to do now is put it on.” The Illusionist spoke as he reached out, taking the necklace in one hand and brushing her long hair aside with the other. He clasped it into place, letting out a relieved sigh as the charm fell against her collarbone. “There. Now I feel much more comfortable letting you go home.”
The weight of that four-letter word sank uncomfortably in Elizabeth’s heart.
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Several hours later, they were on a train back to Europe.
Everyone noted that this pace was a bit faster than their usual trips. Footing felt a bit more unsteady than the usual ride that they were accustomed to. The unchanging ocean appeared to whiz by a bit quicker.
Most members made it a point of showing up to dinner, if only to ensure that they could see Elizabeth off. Jean and Leonardo, in particular, made a point of sitting at her table one night so that they could properly apologize for such terrible things being her last memories of the circus.
At that, Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s all right. I still had a wonderful time, and I am honored to have had such an experience. And I was even thinking…”
The Illusionist paused then, fork halfway to his mouth. He set it down, giving Elizabeth a pointed stare. “If you are about to say that you want to stay with us…”
“I’d been considering it! Nothing more. But both you and Vlad said that I had magic like everyone else here. If I stayed, it would give me the opportunity to make stronger memories, and help you keep an eye on all of me.”
The table was quiet, and as she spoke, the rest of the dining car fell silent, too. All eyes were on Elizabeth and The Illusionist, the latter of whom set down his silverware and laced his fingers together.
“Elizabeth. Joining L’Éternel Cirque means that you could never leave. You would stay here to study your magic, live for an extended time thanks to the powers that éternité would grant you. The outside world would become a much more troublesome place to be. You could stay a human – as Sebastian did, for a time – but with Vlad active, I’m not sure if keeping you out of contact with your magic, but within the circus, is our best move.”
“Would letting me out of the circus keep me safer, then?”
“It would be us effectively cutting ties with you. Vlad cannot track you, even if you shared a previous link with us at the circus. I recall you saying that you came to the circus from far enough out of town – he has no idea where you live. I believe it is the safest measure for you to go home, with these protections, but… the ultimate choice is up to you.”
Elizabeth was silent for a moment, then nodded once as tears came to her eyes. “I understand. Then I’ll go home. I haven’t wanted to worry anyone this much, and I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for myself.”
“Ah, chin up, Newt!” Arthur’s voice suddenly rang out, a hint of sadness in his usual chipper tone. “It’s not like Lizzy’s leaving forever! Who knows, maybe we’ll get to see her sooner than we expect!“
"I’m not upset, you idiot,” Isaac shot back, but as Elizabeth leaned to glance at Isaac’s face, she caught the way he was biting at his lip and trying to hold back tears.
“I promise I’ll try to visit again when you all return,” she said. “And then you can show me all how much you’ve improved with magic, right?”
“Absolutely!” Vincent said, beaming. “We would all be happy to escort you around every night of the week!”
“I doubt you could make it out to your area that much,” Theo added, “but we’d arrange something with you ahead of time if we knew we were in the area.”
As somber subjects turned to happier plans for the future, Leonardo leaned over to tap The Illusionist’s elbow. The two men leaned in close, Leonardo’s whisper barely audible.
“What did you say her magic was again?”
“Well, I don’t think I ever said.” The Illusionist smiled mysteriously, glancing once at Elizabeth. "But if I had to hazard a guess, I would say that she is nearly limitless. The kind of power that would be the envy of all. However…”
Leonardo glowered as The Illusionist trailed off, laughing when he caught sight of his friend’s frustrated expression.
“Her natural magic is bringing out the best in others. She brings people together in ways they never imagined before. You surely noticed how much less fighting and resistance there was with her here.”
“That would definitely explain it.”
“The circus members were also more powerful. I have no doubt that even her sleeping Latent magic allowed Theo to break that spell or inspired one of the most creative bursts I have seen out of any of you. I think that, if she had chosen to stay with us, this circus would have remained a much more peaceful place.” The Illusionist leaned back, resuming his meal. “But, as usual, that is not my choice to make. It is hers alone.”
Leonardo leaned back as well, nodding once. “Agreed, old friend.”
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
The Illusionist and Elizabeth watched as her proper train pulled into the station, prepared to take her home. He took those final moments to turn and ask, “Do you have all your belongings?”
“You double-checked before I left.”
“Do you have the bracelet and necklace that we gave you? Along with the back-ups?”
“I have them! I can show them to you.”
Letting out a gentle laugh, he waved his hand. “There’s no need. I know you have them. Just be sure to keep them safe and always know that you can find a way to contact me. Myself or Leonardo will answer.”
She cast a sidelong glance his way. “I’m thankful that you still trusted Leonardo and the others with more of the circus.”
The Illusionist shuffled his feet, coughing and turning away from her gaze. “They need to learn some independence. Leonardo in particular. I don’t want to be responsible for him for the rest of his life.” Her laugh made her smile, and he found himself saying, “But you did that, too. I think you changed everyone at the circus, ma chérie. Whether you noticed or not.”
“If you say so,” she said, a sad smile on her lips. “I’m almost sad to leave. It was nice getting to know everyone, and the past week and a half just flew by. It was like magic – real magic.”
“And it’s a place you can always return to, should we be in the area.” Taking her free hand, he pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Now, don’t miss your train.”
The Illusionist released her, letting her take those last few steps toward her train car. Allowing her to make the final choice for herself, as he always wished for her to have.
(But, for a moment, it appeared as if she was turning around.)
A circus that only opens at nightfall. The same cast performs the acts, no matter how many years have passed. Individuals who once came as children recognize the smile of the lion tamer or the confidence of the acrobats, wondering if they are the same people from all those years ago. But of course, such a feat is impossible – even for a circus.
In keeping his promises, The Illusionist had ensured that members of the circus’s inner circle were with Elizabeth at all times. He even accompanied her one afternoon to fill in after one member fell ill, allowing her a brief glimpse at his rehearsal process on the evening of the fifth day.
Even she could see the fatigue that the circus was taking on him. Mild curses slipped from his lips as the cards crumpled in the middle of his folding routine, as shifting the shade of his jacket only served to make a new color appear in splotches. When a thin bead of sweat started to appear on his brow, Elizabeth stepped up onto his stage, yanking the handkerchief out of his lapel pocket.
“This shouldn’t just be for show,” she murmured as she wiped his brow. “Leonardo mentioned that you protect the whole circus by yourself. Are you also trying to prevent all the incidents from happening around the circus?”
The Illusionist did not answer, instead taking the handkerchief from her and avoiding her gaze. “It is nothing. This is only a mild fatigue. It will pass once I adjust.”
“You don’t have to hold onto it for much longer, then,” Elizabeth said, taking a step back off the stage. “I’ll be leaving in a few days. Soon you won’t have to worry anymore.”
The Illusionist paused a moment, appearing surprised – before his face lifted into a smile. “Of course you are, ma chérie. Forgive me, I fear that we have all gotten far too used to your presence already.”
“That just means you’ll have to come back to my area so I can visit again!”
“Naturally,” The Illusionist said, finally stepping off the stage to join her. “I’m sure we will all be thrilled to see you. Speaking of the others, what are your plans for tonight?”
“For tonight? Well…”
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
“Come on, Elizabeth!” Vincent tugged at her sleeve. “There’s definitely another statue over here!”
“We’re only going to get lost in the circus, broer!” Theo chastised as they raced ahead. “Keep track of where you are.”
“I know where we are! We’re between the Star Chaser tent and the Carousel! Somewhere near them, anyway. We’ll be fine!”
For her fifth evening, the first shift was assigned to the van Gogh brothers. When she confessed that she had yet to complete her list of statues around the circus, Vincent had suggested that they go on a scavenger hunt to find the rest of them.
And it was clear that, as the inventor of the statues, Vincent had an innate understanding of where they were from – for they soon came upon another. This one was decked out in golds and reds, standing proud over a sign that read: “Mother Nature.”
“Since it’s closer to autumn, she’s gotten out the appropriate colors,” Vincent explained. “She holds her arms aloft in summer, but slowly lowers them over the course of the season. See her dress? The leaves on it will fall off over the course the evening.”
Elizabeth finished marking her name and general location down, nodding as Vincent spoke. “She’s beautiful.”
“I think there’s another one just nearby, come on!” Vincent’s excitement was apparent as he dragged her around further. Theo did his best to stick close, casting the occasional worried glance over his shoulder while also watching their general surroundings.
“Broer! Look out for the crowd ahead. They’re coming towards us.”
“Oh! You’re right!” Vincent unexpectedly released Elizabeth’s hand, stepping to the side. Elizabeth did the same, but stepped the other direction. She heard half her name in Theo’s shout, cut short as the crowd finished passing before her eyes.
Theo and Vincent were not waiting for her. A shiver shot down her spine as she took two hesitant steps forward, unable to see any trace of either man.
“Theo? Vince—”
A force wrenched her arm back, the grip around her wrist painfully tight. She let out a cry of pain as she felt another arm about her waist.
“Hello, my dear.”
The voice did not just reach her ears – it touched every sense her body was capable of feeling. Her shoulders relaxed, her legs grew heavy, and every ounce of tension her body flooded out at once. As her body relaxed, her mind sounded an alarm.
This voice was one she knew verywell.
“Let go of me!”
“That’s no way to greet an old friend, especially when we had so little time to talk during our last encounter. We were in such a rush to catch that train, after all.”
Elizabeth attempted to pull out of his grip, but his next words had the same honey-like tone to them and only served to still her further. “I don’t care! Why did you put me on that train?”
“He hasn’t changed you yet, has he?” The man’s sigh was irritated, ignoring her question entirely. “Is this ‘Illusionist’ really such a soft-hearted idiot that he can’t take a gift that’s been kindly dropped on his lap?”
“What do you mean?”
“What?” The man paused then. “Has he not given you a choice? Are you not even part of the circus yet?”
“I don’t— what are you talking about?” Elizabeth’s question pitched high as she tried to pull away again. “I’m not part of the circus!”
“He hasn’t told you? The man who runs this farce of a circus hasn’t told you the secret behind it?”
Before Elizabeth could open her mouth to respond, there was a violent cracking sound.
The circus snapped back into perspective. The din of the crowd, the smell of caramel and sugar, the sensation of the ground beneath her feet struck her every sense at once. She saw Theo and Vincent pushing people aside as they ran towards her. A click of the man’s tongue from behind her was barely audible.
“Clearly, he’s been training at least a couple of you,” the man said, releasing his grip on Elizabeth. “They’re cleverer than I gave them credit for.”
As she fell forward, she felt Vincent catching her in his arms as Theo rushed past, cursing audibly as he threw himself at the now-empty air.
“Elizabeth!” Vincent supported her as she worked to stand straight again, concern in his eyes. “Are you all right? We’re so sorry we lost you!”
“I’m… I’m fine. I promise. I just…”
“Theo. Vincent.”
Everyone looked up as The Illusionist appeared next to them, giving each a glance in turn. Theo was the first to speak, his tone etched with regret.
“We’re sorry, sir. We let that bastard get away, and he managed to catch Elizabeth for a bit. It was hell and a half breaking his illusion, but…”
“No. You did exemplary work. You pass with flying colors for managing to break through one of his illusions, as they are often masterfully crafted. You are always good at finding the smallest flaws, Theo.” The Illusionist smiled briefly his way. “Now, Elizabeth. I cancelled all my shows for the evening, so I believe that gives us time to sit down and have a nice chat about what you heard tonight.”
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
Back in The Illusionist’s personal tent, any storage and unnecessary furniture had been exchanged out for comfortable seating and soft lighting. Elizabeth had been ushered into a large chair and the bruises on her arm examined. When The Illusionist had concluded that they were not magically inflicted, he wrapped a blanket about her shoulders, gave her a warm cup of hot chocolate, and sat across from her in silence. He did not practice any magic, instead occupying himself with a book.
As was his preference, he wanted it to be her choice to start the conversation and ask whatever questions she wanted.
“… That man mentioned that this circus was a farce. That there was a secret behind it. What is the secret?”
The Illusionist let out a sigh, leaning back into his chair as he closed his book. A long silence passed between them as he appeared to debate his answer.
“… This circus is not simply a circus, ma chérie. It is also a school. It serves to teach students how to appropriately harness their magical potential and use it without causing harm to themselves or others. Though, I suppose they are all less ‘students’ and more ‘colleagues.’”
“And is this man a former student?”
“… He’s not. His name is Vlad, and he is my former rival. We are among the strongest of our kind, and because of that, we thought we could do anything. Blinded by power, we started to test who was the better teacher in drawing magic out of humans. We… used them.”
His voice faded into a regretful whisper, bringing a pause before it surged back. “Vlad and I would each take a student and pit them against each other. At the beginning, we were somewhat even. But then as the years passed… it started to backfire.
“The students taught by Vlad grew more aggressive and would be changed against their will. I always tried to bring my students on with their permission, but couldn’t convince some stronger ones. That is why they were always crushed by Vlad’s students.” The Illusionist’s face crumped. “Several wonderfully magical students, their potential squandered for two magicians’ silly duels.”
Elizabeth remained silent as he continued, watching as his golden eyes dimmed in sadness.
“Since our last match, Vlad has tried to convince me that his way of teaching is better. But I have refused to listen, and instead decided to dedicate myself to teaching as many students of magic as I possibly could.”
“You teach humans magic, then. Arthur, Isaac, Sebastian, Napoleon…” Elizabeth nearly let the mug slip out of her hands, The Illusionist catching it to suspend in the air. “Oh. They’re all—”
“They are all magically gifted students,” he confirmed as Elizabeth took the mug back into her hands. “I believe you have caught glimpses of it before. Isaac and Leonardo are teacher and student, crafting masterful inventions together. Arthur has some of the best healing magic I have ever seen in my long lifetime. Theodorus has a particular knack for spell-breaking and finding gaps in illusions. Napoleon has charming down to an art form.”
“And you teach them all?”
“Myself and Leonardo, yes. But it is a busy, hectic place, with lessons done in spare moments between acts and in the towns we visit. However…” The Illusionist stood then, patting the top of her head. “That is all I will share tonight. Instead of keeping you up with stories, I think you should rest. I will be up all night to watch over you, so please do feel free to sleep in this tent. I shall wake you when dawn—”
Before he could finish, the tent entrance flapped. A soft “Scusa”followed, but The Illusionist waved Leonardo in, Isaac two steps behind.
“Apologies, I didn’t realize you would still be awake, cara mia.” Leonardo flashed her a smile before heading over to The Illusionist, speaking in hushed tones. Elizabeth worked to listen, but their words came out muddled and foreign.
“Leonardo’s using a charm to twist their words backwards so we can’t overhear,” Isaac commented as he took the now-vacant seat across from Elizabeth. “It’s annoying.”
“It does seem like it. Is there a way to counter it?”
Isaac’s eyes widened as he looked to Elizabeth. “You know about our… wait, you can’t. How could you— unless you figured it out from Theo—”
Elizabeth laughed. “Don’t worry. The Illusionist told me about everyone’s magic after tonight. A lot makes more sense now.” She went to sip her hot chocolate, catching Isaac’s stare as she did so. “Isaac?”
“Your watch,” he said curtly. “It’s broken.”
“Oh?” Elizabeth tilted her wrist to face her, only to discover the face of her watch was cracked and the delicate hands were askew. “You’re right! It must’ve broken when…” Putting the mug down on the table next to her, she unlatched the watch from her wrist to take a closer look.
“… Leonardo?” Isaac spoke a tad louder, and the other man turned to look his way. “If she knows about us… can I try to fix something with magic?”
“Of course. Cara mia, would you indulge him?”
She nodded, holding out her watch silently. Isaac took it in hand, running his fingers over it briefly. Elizabeth watched as he laid it across his palm, then took a pen from his pocket and marked a few symbols into his skin around the watch face. His fierce rose eyes glowered down at the lifeless object, his lip turning white from how tightly he was biting it.
A moment passed. Then a few. Then several, with no visible change or progress. Isaac’s lip even began to bleed, a small trickle of blood running down his chin – but still his gaze did not waver.
Then, he shoved his hand back out toward Elizabeth. She barely caught the watch as she dropped it into her palm.
“I-I’m… I’m sorry. That spell didn’t work, and… I thought there was progress, but… excuse me. I have to finish our other project.”
“Isaac! Wait!” Elizabeth called out, but Isaac was already out of his seat and hurrying out of the tent. Leonardo sighed from behind her, and The Illusionist gave him a pointed look.
“His inventing is second to none, but you still have to charm a vast majority of his creations, don’t you?”
“Isaac’s just missing the last step, and that was no reason to deny him the chance to study.” Leonardo sniped at The Illusionist, before he strode over to Elizabeth and took her watch from her. “Forgive him. Isaac has more trouble with magic than most. I saw a lot of magical potential in him, and offered to teach him every form of magic I knew, provided he agreed to éternité.”Leonardo’s fingers closed over the watch as he looked back to Elizabeth. “Every time he tries a new branch of study, I wonder if I cursed him with it instead.”
Elizabeth instantly shook her head. “I don’t think so, Leonardo. I think you just have to keep searching and let him try. I know he’ll learn it soon enough, even if that means inventing his own kind of magic.”
Leonardo smiled. “I like your optimism. Maybe that’s it – that we just haven’t found it yet. I’ll keep my head and hopes up.” With that, he held up the watch before Elizabeth’s face. “And here’s your watch back.”
She was stunned to see the glass unscarred, a soft ticking coming from the watch despite the fact it had been crushed beyond repair moments before. Taking it back in disbelief, she latched it around her wrist before smiling to herself. “Thank you, Leonardo.”
“You’re welcome. Just take care of yourself, all right? We can’t have you getting hurt again.”
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Despite Leonardo’s fears and the whole circus being on high alert, the worst was yet to come.
The final night of the circus’s tour had the highest number of guests yet, thanks to the sign at the gate. Many had come out to get a glimpse of the circus before it went on break, fearing they would not be able to see it in their own hometowns.
If there was any night for Vlad to try one last time, it would be this night. Shakespeare had even done a unwelcome fortune at breakfast that morning, declaring to all within earshot that a fated duel would happen on this night.
It did not take a genius mind to figure out who the players would be. Even knowing that, Elizabeth now caught more glimpses than ever before of the “magic” that had been hiding under her very nose. When Vincent sketched next to her, she caught sight of his art breathing,whether the most mundane sketch or a fully finished work. On Arthur’s shift, Elizabeth was forced to chase him around the circus as he ran around like a madman, both commenting on tent arrangements and hidden corners to rearrange as well as examining any ailing within the circus grounds. A mere touch from his magic was all that was needed to help those in pain.
The circus was as mysterious as when she first stepped into it, but Elizabeth now felt that she understood it on a far deeper level than outsider ever had before.
And now it was her deepest wish that she had some magic of her own to protect it.
A circus that only opens at nightfall. The same cast performs the acts, no matter how many years have passed. Individuals who once came as children recognize the smile of the lion tamer or the confidence of the acrobats, wondering if they are the same people from all those years ago. But of course, such a feat is impossible – even for a circus.
“… And that’s what he said.” Elizabeth took another bite of breakfast into her mouth as she gauged Isaac, Napoleon, and Sebastian’s reactions two days later. “What do you think?”
“It’s certainly curious,” Isaac said, his finger smoothing over the side of his teacup. “But The Illusionist hasn’t given us any reason to doubt him before, has he, Napoleon?”
Napoleon shook his head, letting out a yawn. “I don’t think so. Is it possible that it’s just because you’re not supposed to be here?“
“I sincerely doubt it.” Sebastian said as he reached out for Napoleon’s cup, frowning when he saw it was already empty and filling it with a second serving of coffee. “I received a similar reading when I first agreed to join the circus, too. However, I’ve bonded with the other acrobats and members of the circus since then, as you can see. Then, I joined The Illusionist’s ‘inner circle.’ After that, Shakespeare started to leave me alone.”
“Then I think there’s nothing to worry about,” Isaac said firmly. “He could be referring to something in the past or future, too. You said yourself it was his most vague reading, and I think those things are worthless, anyway. You should just focus on when you can go home.”
“Or count the hours until opening night!” Napoleon smiled at Elizabeth. “Which act do you think you’re going to see first? You’ll have a week to see it all, open to close, so take your time enjoying everything.”
“I don’t know. I definitely want to make sure I see everyone’s acts, though! I know that not all of you have a tent, but that’s not going to stop me! I was also thinking about going on a quest to find all of Vincent’s statues!”
“A noble endeavor,” Sebastian said, raising his glass. “We’ll pool notes at the end of each night. I swear, the circus is still hiding some of them from me.”
The conversation moved to brighter topics then, the four discussing their favorite acts and plans to meet up after their shifts – brimming with excitement as they left breakfast that morning and went about preparing for the hard work ahead.
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
The afternoon went by in a flash as Elizabeth was escorted to the circus alongside all the other performers, the tents already constructed upon their arrival. She was thrilled to discover that the process of how such an impressive arena was built would still remain a mystery – even if she had her suspicions about how it was done.
When sundown came and the circus opened, she started to wander through the circus, keeping track of her route as she went. She would always pause to thank the statues she discovered for her hard work. As she passed by some of the circus members, they would offer her a wink or a wave. It always left a skip in her step, as it reminded Elizabeth that she was not merely a patron.
She was part of the circus, if only for a brief time.
She was given her own small area of a tent to share with some of the female acrobats, who swapped stories with her until she could no longer keep her eyes open. They slept the morning away.
The second night arrived, and this time, Elizabeth kept an eye on her watch. Her newfound friends had made plans with her, and as the hands approached one o’clock, she hurried off to Sebastian’s tent – one of the tallest and decked in a rich black and gold – to catch his final act with Napoleon before they ventured out into the circus together.
“I’m glad I wasn’t late,” Napoleon commented as he saw Elizabeth hurrying over. “My lions were acting up tonight. I wasn’t sure if it was that their aide didn’t feed them, or if they didn’t want to perform, but I’d swear one of them tried to bite my hand off.”
“Napoleon!” she gasped. “Are you all right?”
“Completely. I know my lions and stayed in control. But it felt like I was regaining their trust all over again in that act.” He waved it off as they found an empty pair of seats, and Elizabeth was pleased to discover these ones leaned back to allow her to admire the bars and scarves that decorated the spacious canopy of the tent.
“There’s no net,” she murmured. “I still can’t believe they perform without a net.”
“Sebastian let me in on a little secret: they definitely rehearse with one, especially when they’re doing a new act. They find time in the morning and between shows to rehearse it, but when they debut it to the public it’s like they’ve been performing it all their lives.”
“They made it look so magical when I last saw them. But now knowing all the work that goes into it…”
“Does no longer feel like magic because you know the hard work that goes into it?”
“Not at all!” Elizabeth declared. “If anything, knowing all the hard work makes it all the more amazing.” The lights dimmed then, and the audience clapped as the first performers appeared – a pair of performers on the ground. They snapped their fingers, and a pair of rolled-up silks spiraled down from the dark canopy of the tent.
For the opening act, the audience was treated a fierce display of aerial feats. The silk artists climbed up and down the weightless fabric as steady as if they were climbing a solid oak. In the next, acrobats on high soared through the air, featherless and wingless but still appearing as if they were suspended in flight. For the brief moments where hands left the bar or fantastical actors spun down the silk bands, a tense breath would be held – only to be released when they safely seized the hands of another acrobat or they grabbed the next bar.
Napoleon and Elizabeth shared their own silent claps when Sebastian came out, seamlessly joining the other acrobats. It was clear that he was just as proficient as the other performers, despite his earlier insistence that he was “only” the newest member of the ensemble. They could hardly take their eyes off him as he swung through the air without any effort, and Elizabeth reveled in the quiet sense of pride that she knew one of the acrobats performing up high.
In a particularly daring closing act, the acrobats would fly through a single ring with only one bar on either side. They would fly through with ease, grabbing the bar on the other side and swinging for a few moments before going for the platform to exit the “stage.”
Elizabeth and Napoleon watched as Sebastian was the last to follow in the line of acrobats. He flew through the ring with confident ease, hands and arms outstretched.
His fingers did not reach the bar.
The spotlight followed Sebastian as he plummeted downward to the sound of a screaming audience—
— and onto the safety of a black net.
For a moment, there was tense silence. Then, slowly, surely, with the gold of his outfit glittering in the light… he rolled off the net and stood tall and proud. Hesitant applause rose up as he bowed twice, his broad smile convincing enough as he then gestured back up to the acrobats on the edge of the platform and bowed in unison with them. All too quickly, the next act continued – the bars replaced with a tightrope that fascinated the audience once more.
However, Elizabeth’s gaze did not leave Sebastian. She continued to stare, seeing the moment his smile fell away and how he let out a single shaking breath before walking towards the exit. With a quiet urge to Napoleon, the two followed him outside.
Sebastian turned as they approached, biting his lip. “I knew I wasn’t going to reach the bar. My fingers hardly grazed it, but I felt like I knew it was going to happen as soon as I got into the air. If not before. It was the strangest sensation. For a moment, it was fine… then I realized it wasn’t.”
“And the net?” Napoleon frowned. “That wasn’t there when the act started. And I doubt it was just blending in with the black of the floor.”
Sebastian shook his head. “It wasn’t. We never have a net. That’s what marvels our audiences and keeps them coming back, after all.”
Elizabeth reached out, taking Sebastian’s hands in hers. “Then I’m glad someone put a net out there, whenever it was.”
“I would credit The Illusionist, but he wasn’t in the audience. He’s doing a show right now.” Sebastian shook his head. “It might have been someone else. Or maybe it was always there, if we forgot to take it down…”
Nobody said a word for a moment, only allowing Sebastian the moment to gather himself before excusing himself to change with the promise to be back in a couple minutes. Napoleon sighed as he watched Sebastian run back around the tent.
“I’m worried. It’s not like anybody to make mistakes in this circus, whether it’s leaving the net out or him not reaching the bar. I wonder if we’re all on edge because you’re watching us.”
“Napoleon! That’s not funny.” Elizabeth frowned. “Sebastian could have died if that net wasn’t there!”
“And that’s the strangest thing. We know the net wasn’t there. I’ll bet you it was The Illusionist. Show or not, he’s always watching the circus in the back of his mind, I’d guarantee it. The man’s more powerful than he’ll ever say aloud, and this is one of the times where we can acknowledge that.”
“I agree. Even I still don’t know enough… I trust what I’ve seen. I know what you mean.”
Sebastian appeared a couple minutes later, dressed far more casually than the glittering gold and black outfit he had worn for his performance. His expression was still weary, and Napoleon reached out to clap his shoulder.
“Look! Let’s take a break. Not go in any tents for now.” Napoleon pointed down the lane toward a raised platform, where an audience was gathered to observe the performer above. “We can watch an act outside. Jean’s just over there, and his acts are incredibly good when he decides to come out and do one.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Sebastian said, nodding once. “His acts are genuine and fascinating. Have you seen his acts yet, Elizabeth?”
“Not yet! What does he do?”
“Jean’s an expert juggler and sword swallower,” Napoleon explained as they started walking over to join the crowd. “I think he’s also got a few other tricks under his belt, but sword tricks have been his niche recently. He’s also pitched some faux sword fights with me, and we’re working on a routine with Theo and Arthur now.”
“That sounds cool! I hope you’re still performing it when I come back.”
“We could even run a rehearsal before you leave,” Napoleon offered as they came to a stop towards the back of the crowd. Elizabeth was thankful for the raised platform, as it allowed all the audience to see Jean as he stood proud on the podium. His one visible eye watched the audience below, his body hardly moving as more audience members gathered.
When the number appeared suitable, Jean unbuckled the belt at his waist and drew the sword from its sheath. He dropped it aside as he held the glittering blade aloft and tilted his head back.
“The sword swallowing act has always looked so scary!” Elizabeth gasped as she watched Jean slowly steady his breathing.
“Would it make you feel better if you knew how it was done?” Sebastian whispered, only to be swatted away. “What?”
“Absolutelynot!” Keeping her eyes fixed on Jean, Elizabeth knew she didn’t want to miss a moment of this act.
It was as if the circus itself had gone silent to allow Jean to focus. There was no music from a nearby tent, or the sounds of conversations as people walked by. Despite the public area, it was as if the moment was trapped inside an untouched bubble.
Then, the audience gasped in tandem as he slid the sword down his throat. He held the sword there for a full minute, unmoving and unflinching. Then, without any flourishes, he slowly drew it back out again. As it reached its peak, Elizabeth felt like she could breathe once more.
The sword slipped from his fingers the next instant.
Jean instinctively recoiled before forcing his upper body to keep straight, catching the blade of the sword in his fingers. He yanked the blade out from his mouth in one swift motion and dropped it to the ground. The audience screamed as he fell to his knees and bent over the side of the platform, coughing up a proper amount of blood.
Many stepped back, and some even looked as if they were going to run to find assistance – before Jean pausing for a moment to wipe his lip on a white glove and call out:
“Do not leave just yet.” He pulled himself to his feet in a slow, deliberate fashion… and then stood confident and proud before the audience. He linked eyes Elizabeth before relaxing into a smile, gesturing to the audience.
“Even a mere slip cannot kill a sword-swallower. See for yourselves.” He turned about, and his voice was still strong. “We cheat death every time we perform, and marvel our crowds by cheating with pockets of faux blood in our cheek. And yet, for a moment, did it not fool you all?”
As his final word faded into the air and into silence, the audience eventually broke out into hesitant, smattered applause. Some still appeared doubtful, sticking back to keep an eye on Jean. He went about his work as if nothing was amiss, wiping off the bloodied sword and returning it to the sheath. Balls were returned to their bag and he jumped off the podium with ease. That seemed to convince the last of them, and soon, all of them were gone – save for Elizabeth, Sebastian, and Napoleon.
“So he’s all right?” she asked, slowly. Neither man answered as Jean came closer, offering a weak smile.
“Mademoiselle. Could you hold these?” He passed Elizabeth his sword and bag – and as soon as she had them, he fell to his knees once more.
Napoleon swore aggressively as he and Sebastian rushed to his sides, lifting him to his feet. “I knew you were faking it! How much do you think it stabbed through? Come on, we have to get him backstage. Elizabeth, let’s go!”
Sebastian and Napoleon took an arm each as they hurried Jean through the winding maze of tents, Elizabeth two steps behind as they vanished from the crowds. As they flung themselves into one tent, Isaac and Leonardo looked up.
“Jean!” Napoleon declared before they could ask. “He’s been badly hurt.”
“What happened?” Leonardo asked as Isaac blanched, hurrying to clear off the papers and spare parts strewn across a sofa.
“The sword slipped from his fingers. It went back into his body, but we’re not sure how deep it went…” Sebastian trailed off as they laid Jean down. “He coughed up blood and possibly injured some organs. Will his body need additional help to get through this?”
“Not sure. Éternité is a fickle mistress. I know we hate using magical supplements to encourage it, but it might be the safest option for him. Isaac, where’s the rogue?”
“Already got it.” Isaac passed over a glass bottle filled with vicious red liquid. “There’s blanc on hand too, to supplement it if necessary. Let me know if we should give him other supplements, or should call Arthur back here to work his magic.”
“Thanks. Arthur’s not a bad call for something as grave as this. Napoleon, go get him.” Leonardo yanked the cork out with his pocketknife and passed the bottle to Sebastian, who delicately opened Jean’s jaw and tipped the contents in. A hacking cough left Jean a moment later, and Leonardo rested a hand on his stomach as Sebastian tipped the last of the bottle down.
“You need to swallow it, Jean,” Leonardo said. “I know you hate it because we’d do it every time we found you trying to get out of this agreement, but you gotta try this one time so we don’t scare the poor little lady with us.”
Jean’s shoulders relaxed at that, and he let out a shaking breath as his eye opened. “That’s true. I wouldn’t want this to be her last impression of the circus. My apologies, mademoiselle.I’ve frightened you.”
“It’s fine, I just… I hope you’ll make it.” She hiccupped as tears finally started to flow. “Just— just— between this and what happened with you, Sebastian, if anyone dies—”
“What’s that mean, cara mia?” Leonardo’s eyes narrowed. “What happened with Sebastian’s act?”
“I didn’t make it to my bar,” Sebastian explained. “I should have made it, but I knew the section I reached out for it that I wasn’t going to grab it.”
“There was also the net that wasn’t there that managed to catch you,” Elizabeth added. “And oh! Napoleon, he had something with his lions, where they were more aggressive than usual…” Elizabeth trailed off as she noticed Leonardo’s face had paled. “Leonardo?”
“We need to tell The Illusionist. Let’s go.”
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
An emergency summons occurred just after six o’clock in the morning, most of the inner circle gathered in The Illusionist’s private tent. Most of the members had found a place to sit, and The Illusionist stood in the center. Elizabeth watched him as he stood completely still, his features grave, and as the last members walked in – Napoleon supporting a weary-looking Jean – he started his speech.
“Last night, mysterious incidents started occurring all throughout the circus. After hearing the three initial reports from Napoleon, Sebastian, and Jean, I approached some other members and discovered that more had happened than I anticipated. While I was aware of some of them and had a hand in preventing some of the more dangerous accidents, I am fearful that the scope of this influence was greater than expected.”
“Do you think someone’s trying to sabotage the circus?” Arthur asked first. “And that all of this is connected somehow?”
“If someone is, then this is a coordinated effort that involves magic,” Isaac pointed out. “Some of the incidents were related to inventions that Leonardo and I created, which are impossible to break unless you have the right tools or abilities.”
“And what of the others?” Shakespeare said, his quiet voice carrying over the gathered crowd and quieting any who briefly considered speaking up. “Those were mistakes. And the fine folk of this circus do not make mistakes. Surely, you do not believe this string of accidents is all happenstance?”
Leonardo made a face, but nodded in agreement. “Like Isaac said. Too much happened to call it coincidence.”
Shakespeare tapped his chin, smiling wide. “They never happened before our little guest showed up.”
“That’s malicious!” Theo shouted suddenly, Vincent’s arm going to rest on his and keep him in his seat. “You know that she’s not responsible!”
Isaac’s lip trembled, but he held his ground. “She couldn’t have gotten into any of our inventions. She’s not like us.”
“And how do you know?”
Leonardo put on a hand on Isaac’s shoulder, giving Shakespeare a pointed look. “Because we do. These attacks were also too wide-spread and precise. A majority of the actors, like Sebastian and Jean, could tell their very bodies were being manipulated. If she’s responsible, then she’s a more powerful magician than The Illusionist, and that’s simply not possible.”
Shakespeare watched Leonardo for one long moment, then shrugged and looked to The Illusionist. “Then what will you have us do, sir?”
“My first declaration is this. Our guest is a victim of these attacks – not a perpetrator. Therefore, to those who work backstage: I want eyes on Elizabeth at all times. As a non-circus member, she may be more susceptible to the attacks. Sebastian, arrange a rotation schedule.”
“Done,” his right hand answered.
“Second, for Isaac and Leonardo. On top of fixing your other inventions, I will need you to devise something for me as soon as possible.” He snapped his fingers, a long sheet of paper rolling off his desk and into Leonardo’s hands. “It will take your combined efforts and haste, but please take care in creating it.”
The pair quickly scanned the instructions and nodded. “Got it.”
“Lastly, for everyone: be on the look-out for mysterious persons at the circus. As you speculated, there may be someone with a higher level of magic attempting to sabotage us. I will need all members available to monitor fellow performers and report to me if something goes wrong. Am I understood?”
“Understood,” the room answered.
“Excellent. Dismissed.”
Murmurs rose up as the members went to leave the tent. Sebastian stuck with Elizabeth, offering to let her stick with him or Napoleon until he drew up the rotation shifts. Then, as he stuck a hand into his pocket, he frowned and pulled a small paper out.
“I should have known.” Casting a glance back at the mostly empty tent, he noticed The Illusionist moving two chairs closer to one another as Leonardo settled into one of them. “It appears The Illusionist has asked us to bring some tea back for his meeting with Mr. Leonardo.”
Elizabeth examined the paper as they walked. “Is there something about Mr. Leonardo that makes him more important than the other circus members?”
“Something to that effect. He is one the most trusted among the upper circus staff and is confided in more than the rest of us. Now, have you ever seen this tent before?” He pointed at a small, unassuming tent, the fabric a deep rich brown decorated with a latticework pattern. Sebastian lifted the curtain to allow her inside, and Elizabeth’s eyes widened.
“There’s a tent for tea?” A tall tree arched just over their heads, the branches dangling with several multicolored bunches of leaves. In the center of the tent was a modestly sized brewing station, copper pots and blue-fire burners at the ready. Small couches and tables decorated the perimeter, with a few sparse chalkboards covered in drawings of specific leaf shapes and suggested steeping times.
“The idea was mine, I must confess,” Sebastian said as he examined all the leaves overhead. “I’m afraid I complained to Mr. Arthur once about all their varied tastes, and he took it upon himself to design this concept for me. The leaves are from all over the world, and at some point, patrons started approaching the tent as an attraction. It’s a respite – a spot to rest while still within the circus.”
“I see.” Elizabeth watched as Sebastian picked two different batches and put them into a provided bag, then picked one of the teapots and dropped it in. “Still, that was very nice of him to do for you. It must make things much easier.”
“It is one of the perks of this circus. We all look out for one another.” Sebastian smiled sadly. “I am proud to be part of it, even if it meant giving up so much to do so. It was nothing prominent in my eyes,” he added as Elizabeth frowned, “but some might see it as such.”
“Was it family? A home?”
“Whatever it was, Elizabeth, it pales in comparison to what I have found here.”
She chose to not pry further, following Sebastian as they quick ducked out of the tent and returned with a tea set and tray – Sebastian insisting that the ones in this tent should stay there. She helped arrange the tray with some fancy biscuits they had also brought before allowing him to carry it back to The Illusionist’s tent, Elizabeth sticking a step behind.
As they walked through the circus once more, she mused on how different it looked in the early morning daylight, compared to the mystique of the night. It was a scene she appreciated anew each opening and close, knowing how little time she had left.
I only have a few days left, huh? Before I have to leave. As they rounded the corner to The Illusionist’s tent, she let out a wistful sigh. It really was all a coincidence, huh? The circus coming to a nearby town, and how I ended up on their train—
“It wasn’t a coincidence that she ended up on our train, Leonardo.”
Elizabeth froze as The Illusionist’s voice reached her ears. Before Sebastian could ask what was wrong, they both heard Leonardo’s muffled reply:
“Of course it wasn’t. But to keep her this safe and not send her home… you know he’s after something. And you’re in worse shape than usual after tonight. Running this circus always takes a toll on you, but—”
“I’mfine,Leonardo. Stop fussing over me. I am perfectly capable of keeping this circus running on my own and resisting whatever he’s trying to stir up by putting the girl on my train.”
“But you know what she is. I feel it too, old friend, and we can’t deny it. She’s part of his goal.”
They heard The Illusionist let out a shuddering sigh. “And that is precisely why I refuse to extend an invitation. But fine. I’ll tell the members of the circus a basic description. White hair, red eyes, summon me if you see…”
His following words faded as Elizabeth’s mind repeated his description.
White hair. Red eyes.
White hair. Red eyes.
White hair.
Red—
The memory returned to Elizabeth in a gasping rush. She flung the curtain aside as she ran into the tent, declaring:
“That man pushed me onto your train!”
Leonardo and The Illusionist looked up in surprise as Sebastian hurried in behind her, the teacups rattling on the tray. All stared at her for a moment, wide-eyed.
“Elizabeth,” The Illusionist finally said, slowly, “Are you telling me that somebody forced you onto my train?”
“Yes— Yes, and I don’t know how I forgot. There was a man with white hair and red eyes, he tripped over my bag. After we had picked up everything, he told me that we were going to be late for our train and hustled us to the platform. The clock said it was close to the departure time, but… I knew something was strange when he never got on behind me. It must have been your train.”
“Leonardo. Sebastian.” The Illusionist’s tone was strict, dire. “Inform the others immediately. We will be stopping at him at all costs, and Elizabeth is not to be let out of sight.” He stood from his chair, sweeping towards the exit. “I am not going to let another person be hurt by his cruel games.”
A circus that only opens at nightfall. The same cast performs the acts, no matter how many years have passed. Individuals who once came as children recognize the smile of the lion tamer or the confidence of the acrobats, wondering if they are the same people from all those years ago. But of course, such a feat is impossible – even for a circus.
The train pulled into a quiet, empty platform in the Grand Central Terminal. When Elizabeth checked her watch, she was surprised to see that it was closer to lunchtime than the early morning hours, but saw only an empty platform out the windows.
The doors opened to the platform, and she was among the crowd that disembarked in an uproar of excitement. The unnaturally long train spanned the length of the platform, and she spied several other circus members filing out of other cars, many of whom she had not had the opportunity to meet.
“It’s New York!” Vincent exclaimed from in front of her as he moved further onto the platform. “I’m excited to see America! This is our first time, right, Broer?”
“Our second. You were so swept up in planning your designs for the Astral Coaster that you completely missed our first American tour.”
She glanced behind her to see Leonardo talking with Arthur, discussing a new layout for the circus tents in one area. Next to her, The Illusionist was cupping his hands around small sheets of paper, which had formed into folded birds that soared over the crowded platform by the time he opened them. When he passed one to her, she discovered that it was a hotel address and check in time, giving her cause to glance at the clock overhead.
September 5th, 1899. In four days’ time, they were in New York. A place across the ocean that she never dreamed of reaching.
As the crowd began to thin, The Illusionist turned to her. “Since my train can travel a fair bit faster than the average steamboat, we try to wait a time before setting up the circus. The troupe appreciates the time to sight-see if they choose to, or they can take a vacation from the circus.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“I should never deny them the opportunity to explore and gleam inspiration from the outside world. Now, I would love to take you around myself before checking you into our hotel, but I’m afraid I have a few matters to attend to…” He looked over his shoulder, waving his hand. “Sebastian! What group are you going with?”
As Sebastian excused himself from the people he was speaking to, Elizabeth quickly spoke up. “Uhm, Mr… Sir…”
The Illusionist looked to her, offering a smile. “‘Mr. Illusionist’ or ‘Sir’ is fine, if you’re seeking a proper title. What’s the trouble? Do you not want to go with Sebastian?”
“Oh no, it’s just that… I know that both you and the others have said it would be easier for me to wait to go home, but I don’t want to be a burden. Surely, it will be easier to send me home now that we’ve settled on solid ground again? I can buy a ticket on the next boat home, even if it is expensive.”
“Naturally you could, but… this will be our only stop in America, as you heard prior. The circus will only be here for one week, and then we will make an express trip back across the ocean as soon as the week is over. I think that a steamship would only prove to be a waste of money and a rather uncomfortable journey home.” He paused a moment, crossing his arms. “While I can only assure you that you will want for nothing when under our care for the next week, and that we will see you safely home, I only pray it is enough. In fact…”
He reached into his pocket, producing another blank sheet of paper. This, he did not fold into a bird. Instead, he passed it to Sebastian. Elizabeth caught sight of writing etching itself across the paper without the aid of a pen or ink. “You are staying with my group at the hotel, and will not have to share a room. Sebastian has the address and directions, and you can decide when you get there if you want to stay or not.”
Sebastian made a face as he took the paper. “Sir, you already gave me the address. If this is—”
“These are also instructions,” The Illusionist interjected, giving Sebastian a pointed look until he examined the writing. “Please enjoy yourself in New York. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
As he walked off, Sebastian smiled and folded up the paper. “Well then, Elizabeth. If you will forgive the eccentricity of my group, I am sure you will have a lovely time. Come along.”
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
When the platform was empty, The Illusionist stepped back onto the train. The doors closed a moment later, the train taking off. It moved off the tracks in a matter of moments, moving at a leisurely pace through the countryside towards its destination.
As he went back to his car, he was not surprised to find Leonardo already waiting there, a paper in hand and a smile on his face. “New arrangement by Arthur. Thinks that the new vendors are a little too clustered together and took the flavor profiles of the new delicacies into account. Also, he thought that the new Aquarium Dive tent should be moved away from the Cloud Maze.”
“Both are fair statements,” The Illusionist agreed, taking the paper and memorizing the contents. “Now, you could have easily given this to me later. What are you really here for, old friend?”
“How did that little lady get on our train, Mr. Illusionist?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” As he went to the back of the train to hang his coat, the golden script on his carpet shifted beneath him. Leonardo watched as the circle around “Aquarium Dive” moved through the circus below, settling in a new spot.
“She didn’t find it on her own, though. You can eliminate that one right out the gate. Normal people don’t see through your deceit and trickery.”
Making a face, The Illusionist sat down across from Leonardo. “Naturally. What strength she possesses isn’t enough to break the spell I cast over the train.”
“Oh, so she is special, then? You conveniently left that detail out.”
“Special enough, but I do not plan on extending her an invitation.” The Illusionist frowned, staring out the window. “She did not come here on her own. That means she had help getting on the train.”
“Malicious or benevolent?”
“I am not sure. I do not sense a single thing from her, but it is clear that she did not intend to board this train. The fact she cannot remember how she boarded also troubles me.”
“Sounds like it was malicious on the part of whoever forced her onto this train then. Any candidates you can think of who might be out to get you?”
“… A couple.”
Leonardo waited for his old friend to elaborate, but stood from his chair with a sigh when he did not do so. “Then we’ll just keep an eye on her for now. I’m sure Sebastian has her under control, and the rest of ‘em should be able to stop her if she tries anything.”
The Illusionist nodded once. “I agree.”
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
“So, where to first, gentlemen – and lady?”
Sebastian addressed the crowd around him – Napoleon and Elizabeth ahead, Jean and Isaac a step back. He first asked in French and then in English, catching the attention of all present.
“I know that Napoleon woke up late this morning and didn’t eat with us,” Isaac said. “I doubt Jean ate too, since he usually forgets.”
“Perhaps our first stop should be a bakery, then,” Sebastian noted. “Breakfast – or lunch, at this hour – for everyone.”
“That does sound nice,” Elizabeth agreed. The next moment, her stomach growled loudly. She threw her arm about it in a half-hearted attempt to stifle it. “Excuse me!”
At that, Napoleon broke out laughing. He nearly doubled over on the sidewalk, catching the attention of a few passersby as they continued moving past.
“It’s not that funny!” Elizabeth insisted, but Napoleon continued to laugh – the sight even earning smiles from Jean and Isaac. While she blushed furiously in embarrassment, Sebastian sighed while checking his pocket watch.
“Perhaps a sit-down breakfast would be easier,” Sebastian stated dryly. “I didn’t realize I had so many hungry individuals on my hands. Mr. Isaac, would you be all right with that?”
“Fine with me.”
The decision made, Sebastian escorted them through busy streets and around crowds of people to a decently busy locale. The five of them were seated in no time, and wasted no time assuming their roles. Sebastian helpfully translated tricker bits of the menu for Jean – who, it now appeared to Elizabeth, was more inclined to French over English – while Napoleon and Isaac scanned their own menus.
“So, Elizabeth,” Napoleon started as the server left with their order, “Have you ever been to New York before?”
“Never! I’ve never even left my home country! The buildings here are so tall – and I can’t believe how many people there are! Everything feels much busier here.”
“It’s very rare that we get to come across the ocean,” Sebastian commented. “But coming to cities like this makes the trip worth it. Though, it is harder for some us than others.”
Isaac grimaced. “It’s just too loud. You promised we could go to that new park they opened if it got to be too overwhelming.”
“That’s true, they started in 1858 and only recently finished the whole park, right?” Napoleon smiled. “The last time we were here, they’d just opened the northern section. Theo and Vincent haven’t even seen it yet!”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, then shut it as her face took on a puzzled frown. All the men looked to her as she stayed quiet and continued to stare at them before finally speaking.
“… How old are all of you? I figured you couldn’t be much older than me, but… when you were last here seems like it was a terribly long time ago.”
A beat of uncomfortable silence passed over the table, only to be disrupted as the server came to pass out drinks and coffees to those who ordered them. When they vanished, Elizabeth continued to glance pointedly at each member of the table before Sebastian spoke up.
“I think that it should be obvious we’re still around the same age as you. I think that you got the date mixed up, Napoleon – or that you’re thinking of something that one of the other tamers or animal caretakers told you.”
For a moment, it appeared as if Napoleon was going to protest – before then slapping a hand to his forehead and exclaiming, “That’s right! I’d forgotten. The older acrobats were talking about it, weren’t they? Saying how excited they were to see it open. I still say we should stop by.”
“Then that settles it. I know for a fact it’s only a few blocks up. In fact, before our food gets here…” Sebastian produced a map from his pocket, spreading it out across the table. People lifted glasses and mugs out of the way to make room for it. “Look here. We’re halfway there now. I’m sure there’s a few other stops along the way, so tell me if you want to go anywhere.”
Sebastian’s words were swift and his motions elegant, and Elizabeth found herself going along with his discussion without question. Any worries she had were pushed out of mind.
The map ended up staying out on the table even as food came, everyone asking questions and commenting on places they wanted to visit. More often than not, they were quoting what they had heard from others about attractions that had been updated or renovated recently, meaning they deserved a visit. (Elizabeth chose to not comment on the fact that it frequently sounded like an afterthought and was directed at her.)
Sebastian, in particular, was adamant about ending their tour in one specific area of the city. As he worked to take into account everyone’s desires and figure out trolley routes, it was clear that he was aiming to keep to a schedule and conclude at one particular destination. His timekeeping even extended to after they had left the restaurant and began to explore, encouraging all to keep pace with him and to settle affairs quickly.
They visited shops and a couple historical locales, wandered through the park and encouraged Jean and Isaac to feed some of the ducks swimming in the pond. But even such a leisurely stroll was held to Sebastian’s rigid schedule, and he urged them on before long. Elizabeth initially thought his rush was so that he could check them into the hotel, but, as they came to a stop outside a notable department store, she decided to ask him what the rush was.
“Well, the answer may surprise you, since you’ll see in a moment— ah, wait. There he is!”
Sebastian raised his hand to wave, smiling as he caught sight of someone that Elizabeth could not see. She lifted herself onto her tiptoes, just barely catching a glimpse of The Illusionist as he tipped his hat and came down the sidewalk towards them.
“You four did well. Thank you for showing her around.” He bowed slightly to Napoleon and Sebastian, then tilted his hat again toward Jean and Isaac. “I promise to show her just as grand of a time as yours.”
“We’ll hold you to it, sir,” Napoleon said, grinning. “See you back at the hotel, Elizabeth.”
“Don’t stay out too late or spoil her too much,” Sebastian chided. “You need to have a circus set-up briefing with Mr. Leonardo.”
“He already gave me the initial draft, and our second meeting is not until eleven this evening. But that aside…” The Illusionist offered his arm to Elizabeth, allowing her to loop her hand through it. “Let us have ourselves a nice little excursion, shall we?”
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
Elizabeth had nearly turned and left at the sight of such an elegant department store, catching onto his plot rather fast – but The Illusionist held fast and ushered her inside. Two swift hours had passed before they left with a series of new outfits and a proper suitcase.
The Illusionist had spared no expense for his unusual guest, guiding her through the store with a practiced ease and charm. He gave honest opinions about the clothes she picked for herself and offered his own selections, and the two gathered a modest ensemble. Staff helped where necessary, and Elizabeth felt most flustered when he paid for it all without flinching at the whispered price.
After heading to the designated hotel and giving her a key to her room, Elizabeth was escorted down to dinner in one of her new outfits, which garnered smiles and gentle applause from those who caught sight of her.
“You look nice!” Napoleon said first, glancing over to Isaac. “Doesn’t she?”
The inventor said nothing as he continued to poke at his food.
“There you go, Lizzy!” Arthur declared in the beat of silence as she settled at their table. “That’s a fantastic look on you.”
“Can the flirting and compliment-digging, Arthur,” Theo growled. “Leave her alone and let her be. She’ll be gone in a week, after all. There’s no point in starting something.”
“Well, maybe there is! And maybe youdon’t get— oh, whoops!”
A dramatic hand gesture backfired, knocking back Theo’s glass of wine and casting it over the table. The Illusionist, who had just finished pushing in her chair, reached out to right the glass. While a few flecks had splattered across the table, most of the wine had thankfully managed to remain in the glass.
The more miraculous thing Elizabeth noted was that, a few moments later, the stains were not there at all. But as the rest of the table made no comment, she opted not to either. They all appeared used to The Illusionist’s liberal use of magic. I wonder if he’s ever done it outside of his usual crowd and gotten in trouble before!
The dinner was a grand affair, some members cycling from table to table. Elizabeth was eventually pulled from her seat and dragged along to meet other members of the circus – but would always sigh with relief when she found herself with members from the core group once again.
As the night rolled on and some members retired to their rooms, a good number remained to continue celebrating. They convinced Elizabeth to stay as well, insisting that she should fully enjoy herself for the brief time she was here. The moment she accepted, someone discovered the phonograph and started playing dance music, and she was pulled onto the dance floor.
When the party reached its full swing, only then did she realize how exhausted she felt. Retreating to a corner of the room, she decided to watch the party, giggling when she caught sight of Arthur nearly bumping into The Illusionist as they danced with a couple other members of the circus.
It was then she felt a presence next to her. Turning with a jump, she was met with the sight of a man with soft pink hair pulled back into a ponytail. His gaze, one eye red and one yellow, bore a hole into her – until it dissipated, and his face relaxed into a smile.
“Good evening, Elizabeth. I’m afraid we haven’t yet had the opportunity to exchange pleasantries.” He extended his hand. “You may address me as William Shakespeare. I am the fortune teller of this circus.”
“Oh!” She stood and accepted his hand, shaking it gently. “A pleasure to meet you. I did want to get my fortune told at the circus, but I didn’t get the chance.”
“What a keen coincidence, then!” Shakespeare’s eyes lit up. “I did wish to provide you with a reading, and hearing that you did desire one makes me a merry sir indeed. Now, would you prefer a simple glance or a complicated insight? The latter may take more time, but it can provide more answers.”
“A simple one’s fine, thank you.”
“A proper choice for your apparent weariness. Then I shall do the most simple of all – a single card reading. Sit, sit,” Shakespeare settled on the other side of the table and produced a deck of white and gold cards as she returned to her chair.
“Think of your deepest, dying question, but do not let it pass thine lips.” He shuffled as he spoke, his two-toned eyes holding her gaze. His deft fingers did all motions with elegance, before holding it out to her in one hand.
“Put your hands around it. Tell them your question again, only in your mind.”
She did as asked, his other hand coming up to hold hers on top of the deck. The question rose to the forefront of her thoughts, not wavering as she silently asked:
Will I be safe here?
Shakespeare released her hand and let her draw them back, then shuffled the deck one last time.
“I’ll only show the topmost card.” Flipping it with a flourish, he laid it down on the table. Elizabeth took a moment to admire it, the golden outline of a figure seated upon a throne looking back at her. They were upside down, but the figure was still regal despite the inversion.
Shakespeare tutted. “A strong, powerful figure. Currently very prominent in your life. Or possibly influenced your life’s path.” He puzzled over the card, his finger stroking down the side. “The reversal implies that the figure is also concealing something. About themselves or the circumstances. They didn’t tell you everything.”
“… What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It is unclear without other cards to support it. All I can read is that someone of significance was not honest with you. Or is not honest.” As Shakespeare shuffled the card back into the deck, he gave her a low smile. “Perhaps it has to do with the warning I felt I should pass along to you.”
“… A warning?”
“I heard that The Illusionist took you to find those fine garments today. And that it appears as if he wants to keep you in the circus.”
“That’s not true,” Elizabeth said defensively. “He frequently insisted that it was just for my comfort. He promised to take me home at the end of the week.”
“Well, he can say pretty words all he likes. But I will share this: I would not trust the Illusionist. After all, he brought you here with magic. Why can he not use his powers to send you home?”
A circus that only opens at nightfall. The same cast performs the acts, no matter how many years have passed. Individuals who once came as children recognize the smile of the lion tamer or the confidence of the acrobats, wondering if they are the same people from all those years ago. But of course, such a feat is impossible – even for a circus.
At the Illusionist’s request, Elizabeth followed him to the dining car. As they left the compartment car behind, she noted that the next couple they toured through were akin to sleeper cars. There were no windows to reveal their interiors. Brass numbers were impressed upon each door, declining in value as they traveled through two more cars.
As he slid open the entrance to the third car and stepped inside, Elizabeth caught sight of a half-full dining car. Various members of the circus sat scattered around the tables – some she found herself surprised to recognize.
The Illusionist clapped his hands twice. “Everyone, forgive me for interrupting breakfast. While I understand not everyone is present right now, I have an announcement.”
Some gazes went to him, conversations dying down. However, The Illusionist did not say another word – he only stepped aside to reveal Elizabeth. As he did so, one chipper voice piped up: “Did you finally convince a woman to join our branch of the circus?”
All gazes snapped to attention then, some staring in fascination while others appeared skeptical. A couple hesitant glances were exchanged, but The Illusionist shook his head.
“Nothing of the sort. This poor woman appears to have boarded our train on accident. While I don’t know how—” he said quickly, cutting off a smattering of questioning voices— “What I do know is that she is a guest of ours. I suggest that everyone present introduce themselves and welcome her to the dining car, so that she can become acquainted with you all.”
“She can sit with us!” The chipper man from earlier called out once more, dark hair bouncing as he waved his hand in the air – only to have it be tugged down by the irritable-looking man next to him. “Theo! Come on! It’s not every day we get to engage with women like this!”
“I don’t believe that for a second. You surely flirt with the local ladies the second we land in each venue…”
As the two started to bicker, The Illusionist quietly pointed out a quieter table with one empty seat and led her to sit. The faces all present were familiar to her – she recognized the Lion Tamer, a man with black hair tipped with white and a striking emerald gaze. The two across were the same who had entered The Illusionist’s tent.
“Surprised to see you again,” the taller figure said. “Suppose we didn’t get to introduce ourselves to each other before that show. I’m Leonardo.”
“Elizabeth,” she said back. She smiled at the pink-haired man next to Leonardo and at the Lion Tamer. “And you two are…?”
“I’m Napoleon,” the tamer said, “and he’s Isaac. I’m responsible for the larger animal acts in the circus, and those two are the circus inventors. You would definitely see more of them than me if you ran around backstage.”
Elizabeth gasped, turning to the two across from her. “You two make things for the circus?”
“That we do,” Leonardo said. “But we’re not the only ones. We have a whole team.” He pointed at the table where the chipper man and the one he called “Theo” were still locked in a heated debate. Across from them, there was a man with blond hair and blue eyes was trying to break up the fight. “That man there’s named Vincent. He’s the circus’s conceptualist. His most recent idea was the moving statues – recruiting the talent from a host of intense auditions with his brother, Theo. You might’ve seen some of them this time around.”
“Wait!” Elizabeth gasped. “I saw him standing in front of one of the statues! I thought he was just sketching them. He thought those up? Those were phenomenal! I could scarcely tell they were moving.”
Napoleon leaned back in his chair, glancing over as well. “The two men arguing are Arthur and Theo – Arthur’s the black haired one. Theo manages the sales and management of circus functions, such as seeking out new acts when we go to town. Arthur handles the other parts of the circus, like the arrangement of the tents and what goes inside them. He’s also our resident doctor.”
“You wouldn’t think they work well together with the way they’re arguing, though,” Leonardo quipped.
“They don’t,” Isaac finally said, his tone gruff. “They bicker all the time when I’m listening to their ideas, and hardly anything gets done.”
“And yet, you always come away and invent exactly what they want.”
“What about The Illusionist?” Elizabeth asked. “He’s amazing. I thought he was just another performer… but, it seems like he’s respected around here. Who is he?”
The table was silent for a moment at her question. She wondered, briefly, if that question was too forward.
Leonardo finally let out a long sigh, slowly answering. “He runs the circus, actually. If we were a one-tent, three-ring act, he would be our ringleader. But honestly, if you got questions for him, you’re better off asking him yourself. Though I can’t promise the magician will reveal his secrets.”
“Understandable,” Elizabeth responded with a nod. “I would like to thank him at some point for helping me, though. And ask him about getting home.”
“If a meeting with him is what you want to arrange… Sebas!” Napoleon called out across the car over the rising conversation. “Can you come here a moment?”
A man appeared a few moments later from deeper in the car, dressed in a slightly more casual fashion than his companions. He smiled as he saw Elizabeth. “I wondered if you would call me over, Napoleon. Do you need something from the dining car staff, Miss…?”
“Just Elizabeth is fine. I was wondering if there was a chance I could talk with The Illusionist, but…”
“You’re his right hand,” Leonardo cut in as she trailed off. “Surely you’re able to convince the old man to spare a few moments for a concerned little lady?”
“I’m just a member of the acrobat’s tent,” Sebastian sniffed, “but I suppose I can ask him. I’ll come fetch you as soon as I can arrange a time, Elizabeth.”
“I would appreciate it,” she said with a smile. “Thank you.”
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
The following afternoon, Elizabeth received a summons from The Illusionist. Sebastian was the one who had come to get her. Extended conversation over dinner had brought a new host of characters who came to introduce themselves, ranging from the handlers who worked in Napoleon’s tent to three of the moving statue figures who wanted to thank her for her compliments.
Sebastian had been the “former talk of the train,” as Arthur later put it. While his initial retort had declared that he was only a member of the acrobat’s tent, he was in actuality among the newest members to the circus’s inner circle who had proved himself to be quite effective at settling arguments, assisting in the dining car, and ensuring the comforts of most members of the circus.
As she opened the door to her new sleeper compartment to greet him, he acknowledged her with a slight bow. “Elizabeth. The Illusionist wanted to know if now is an appropriate time. If now is not suitable, we can arrange another time. He also wishes to know if this sleeper compartment is good for you, or if you need to be moved.”
“It’s perfect! I’m thankful for his generosity. And now is a good time. I’m not doing much else aside from reading,” she said with a laugh. “Thank you for the books.”
“Train rides are boring, particularly when they last for several days,” he commented as they started walking down the hallway. “Without much to see out the windows—” he gestured to the ocean, still glittering outside— “there is little else to entertain yourself with.”
“Makes sense.” They walked in silence for a few more moments, heading into the next car. As they did so, Elizabeth asked Sebastian if he was close with The Illusionist and if there was anything she should know before meeting him.
“Not as close as some wish to claim, I’m afraid. All I know is that he trusts me to manage this rowdy circus. Aside from my acrobatic duties, my main job description is ‘enhancing and promoting their creativity and ingenuity,’ but it appears that all I do is ensure they eat and break up spats.”
Elizabeth laughed as they walked through the next car. “I’m sure everyone appreciates your hard work, though.”
“I’d like to think so. Now, here we are.” Sebastian pulled the lever on the door and slid it open, revealing a single spacious car. There were no compartments or seats. Instead, the car was tastefully decorated in rich blacks and golds. Deep purple and black furniture decorated the car, but a few spots of color were scattered about the car in the form of white doves on perches or multicolored playing cards across the floor – which was the most interesting part of the car.
Beneath her feet, an etched script glittered against the carpet. She recognized a few words that were encased in circles – “cotton candy” and “acrobat” stood out to her first.
Even the carpet is circus themed, she noticed, a smile rising to her lips. As she looked up again, her eyes met The Illusionist’s, who gave her a slight bow.
“Thank you for bringing her, Sebastian. Would you mind getting the tea? There’s a pot steeping over there, but I was too caught up in my practice to tend to it.”
“Of course. Elizabeth, please sit down.” Sebastian indicated to one of the chairs near The Illusionist before walking further into the car.
“Miss Elizabeth,” The Illusionist said as he sat down across from her, “I can imagine you have many questions about this train. I wanted to give you time to adjust to our strange environment before inviting you to my car, but forgive me if I have seemed an unwelcome host.”
“Not at all. I have already felt quite at home thanks to you and everyone else.”
“Good. That’s reassuring to hear.” The Illusionist leaned back in his chair as Sebastian brought over a tea tray, accepting the cup that was poured and passed to him. “I suppose it would be better for me to start with an explanation and see how many of your questions it answers. Will that be suitable for now?”
“Yes. Though I’m most curious about how this train is… where it is.” She cast a glance out all the windows around them, still only seeing the boundless ocean. “How are we traveling across the ocean?”
“This circus is a traveling circus, as you are already aware,” he answered without hesitation. “In order to bring everything with us, from our actors to our staff to our tents and props, we load it onto this train. Of course, the matter of physically moving from one location to the next… is a tricker matter to explain.”
Elizabeth paused as The Illusionist leaned forward in his chair, his golden eyes serious as he stared at her.
“Miss Elizabeth, do you believe in magic?”
The question was a surprising one, but an answer that should have been obvious died on her lips.
After all, her opinion on magic had changed two nights ago. Before that time, she knew that magic was never real – it was a deceit, an illusion designed to entertain where the fascinating part was not knowing exactly how the magician performed the trick.
The man who sat before her was the one responsible for her wavering belief in the falsehood called “magic.” When she watched his act, there was no indication that what he was doing was fake in any way. It was almost as if he was more authentic than any performer she had seen before. One that truly possessed magic.
“I… I don’t know anymore.”
“Then, if you are already halfway there…” The Illusionist set the saucer of his teacup aside, holding the cup in his hand – then tipped it over onto the table.
Elizabeth cried out, pushing back in her chair.
But the tea did not splatter everywhere, or even so much as stain her skirt and The Illusionist’s fine suit.
Instead, the splatter was suspended in air. The amber liquid was cascading down, suspended in perfect form just before it had hit the table’s surface. As The Illusionist removed his hand from the teacup, it too remained, the moment before them frozen in time.
Elizabeth could only stare in fascination as The Illusionist began to explain.
“There are two kinds of magic. There is the magic humans have invented through machine and trick to amaze their audiences. Such illusions are able to be replicated and reproduced by others. But this magic…”
As he spoke, he waved his hand. The liquid flew back into the teacup in one swift motion, righting itself and returning to his hand.
“This is real magic. It is an ability that very few have. In my case, I use magic constantly. It keeps this train running. It builds the circus and makes it what it is. I used real magic at the show you saw – and, the knowledge that magic is real should explain how I was able to perform the tricks I did.”
Elizabeth could only stare in awestruck silence. For a moment, The Illusionist wondered if he had perhaps given her too much information at once, before her lips stuttered out a timid question:
“Is… is the rest of the circus aware? That this is all because of you?”
“Oh, naturally. This would be impossible to keep secret. I decided it was easier to tell them than expend extra magic to create a false scenery outside their windows. Besides, the view of the ocean like this is much more pleasant, don’t you think?” He smiled as he turned to look. “As you were going to be with us for some time, I thought it right that you should know. But with that, do you have any other questions?”
Elizabeth slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t believe so.”
“Then allow me to ask one in return. Elizabeth… how did you get onto our train?”
She was silent for a few moments, her brow scrunching in thought. “I… I remember waiting for my train. So much time passed while I daydreamed about the circus, and I think I was worried I was going to miss my train. When it was on the platform…” she paused again, her thoughts clouded and hazy. “I remember rushing on. That’s all. I knew something was strange, but the train left before I could get off.”
The Illusionist was silent, scanning her eyes for any doubts. She spoke a truth – a truth to her.
Elizabeth let out a soft laugh. “Forgive me, I might just a bit overwhelmed, but…” A smile rose to her lips despite her words. “All in all, I am relieved to know that magic is real, and that I am not going crazy. I think I would like to see more of it, since I am on this train either way. Forgive me for boarding without your permission, sir.”
“Then perhaps, when you have cleared your head, you can come by again. I would not mind showing you more while answering your questions. Thank you for listening to this old man prattle on.”
“If you don’t mind my saying, you don’t look old at all.” Elizabeth set her teacup down and stood from her chair. “But thank you.”
“Do you need me to escort you back?” Sebastian asked, glancing over from a corner of the car. “I can assist you.”
“No, I think I’ll be fine on my own. Thank you, Sebastian.” She left slowly, as if reluctant to depart – but when the door finally slid shut, The Illusionist let out a gentle sigh.
“Do you think it was wise to tell her, Sebastian?” he asked as he took as a small sip from his teacup, frowning when he found it cold.
“I believe that you did the right thing, sir. After all, you saw what it did to me.” Sebastian smiled as he came over to collect Elizabeth’s teacup, noting the small waft of steam that left The Illusionist’s cup as he warmed it in his hands. “Maybe it will convince her to join the circus. Like Arthur said, it would be good to convince a woman into the inner circle.”
“Perhaps it will,” he said with a smile, pushing aside the more somber thought that accompanied it.
But I hope it does not.
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
On the third day, The Illusionist announced at breakfast that their only American destination on this go-around would be New York. A special sign would be posted at the entrance to declare a two-week break before moving on afterwards. There was no explanation for why they would require a break – but Elizabeth suspected it had something to do with her presence and need to return home. In an attempt to stifle the guilt, she tried to find out as much about New York as possible from the other members of the circus, listening as everyone told their own stories of the place and instructed her on the best destinations to see if she ever got bored of the hanging around the circus troupe.
After breakfast, all members left the car to go pack up anything they needed their rooms. She packed her few belongings into a single bag and had just settled in to read when there was a knock at her door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Leonardo. Can I come in, cara mia?”
“Of course!”
As he entered, he made a face as he scanned the relatively empty compartment. Extra blankets she had requested were already folded into a neat pile with a pair of borrowed pajamas on top. All that she held in her hands was a single day bag.
“Explains why you haven’t changed your clothes in three days.”
“I wasn’t expecting to come on a train and be heading to America, after all! I didn’t pack for a journey across the ocean.”
“Well, you’ll have to get something to wear. Maybe we can find you something from the other circus members. Or I’ll get the costumers on it.” Lifting a cigarillo to his lips and lighting it when she gave a nod, he let out a heaving sigh. “I’m sorry that you are swept up in this, though. Even Mr. Illusionist isn’t sure how you got on this train.”
“I’m afraid I don’t either. I just know that one moment, I was running to the platform and towards this train, mistakenly boarding… and then, after waking up in my compartment, we’re traveling across the ocean.”
“All we can do is make sure you have a good, proper week before you return home, then.” Leonardo turned to leave, waving over his shoulder. “I’m off to check on the others. Let anybody know if you need something.”
“Of course. Thank you, Leonardo.”
As the door slid shut behind him, Elizabeth noted that the smell of tobacco had left with him, none of it lingering in her compartment. The thought left her as she turned once more to look out the window at the vivid blue seascape.
It still feels so unreal – like I’ll wake up from a dream if I make one wrong misstep. But is this a dream I want to wake up from?
A circus that only opens at nightfall. The same cast performs the acts, no matter how many years have passed. Individuals who once came as children recognize the smile of the lion tamer or the confidence of the acrobats, wondering if they are the same people from all those years ago. But of course, such a feat is impossible – even for a circus.
After experiencing an act as spellbinding as the illusionist, Elizabeth found herself in need of a similar thrill. The rest of the circus did not disappoint as she made her way to watch the acrobats, admire some of the moving statues, and ride a space-defying roller coaster that seemed too big for the pitch-black tent it was contained in. Time that had passed so slowly before her experience in the golden tent now moved all too quickly. Before she knew it – her time was up.
She was one of the last to leave the circus, ushered out by silent staff who blocked a few sparse pathways in order to guide patrons towards the exit. As she passed through, she chanced a glance back to see that the golden gate was already shut behind her. Part of her did not want to walk away, but a few newfound acquaintances urged her towards the station, insisting that the first trains would be running soon.
Upon their arrival, she discovered that the train to her smaller town would not be departing for another hour and a half. Settling down on a bench, she watched as a man came out and changed the sign that hung next to the large clock.
September 2, 1899. The circus would, presumably, be gone before noon. The clock hand showed it was just coming up on six. It certainly did not feel like it was so early in the morning, but there was the evidence before her eyes.
Leaning forward with a sigh, Elizabeth set her bag before her feet and stared out across the quiet station, her train not departing until seven. Her fingers idly smoothed over her skirt as her thoughts drifted back to the circus. Her body fell back against the bench as she imagined all the wondorous things she had managed to catch a glimpse of that evening.
The illusionist was the best act. Oh, but then the lion tamer was so excellent, too! He was in full control of his animals. Or maybe it was the food… the tastes were even better than I remember, and I was able to eat so much more this time. I wonder how they make it… maybe there are kitchens beyond some of the other tents. The acrobat’s tent was so big, after all, so who knows what else the circus is hiding…
As she continued to reminiscence on her dream-like evening, a man rushing past kicked the bag at her feet.
“Oh!” He turned about immediately and bent down, meeting her on the ground as she pushed off the bench and crouched down to gather up her scattered things. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to hit your bag.”
“It’s fine,” she murmured, accepting the objects he held out – her wallet, a wrapper from the candy she had eaten, among others – and stuffing them back into her bag. As she repacked everything back, she glanced up at the man, noting that despite his youthful appearance, his hair was a stark white beneath a rich black hat. “What were you in such a rush for, sir?”
“The train, of course. I’m catching the first one out to the east. Are you doing the same?”
“The first train east? I’m catching it, but…” She titled her head to the side, blinking in confusion. “The first one leaves at seven, sir.”
“Ah, we both need to hurry, then.” He glanced over at the clock. “It’s coming up on seven now.”
“What?!” Elizabeth turned, seeing that the man spoke the truth: the minute hand was dangerously close to the hour – despite the fact she could have sworn it was near-six a few minutes ago. “Am I really that tired? Forgive me for delaying you—”
The man shook his head, merely holding out his hand and helping Elizabeth to her feet. His striking eyes were now clearly in sight, the deep brilliant red shining elegantly. “No worries. We should make it if we run. Come along.”
Elizabeth hurried a step behind the man, the strange shift in time nagging at the back of her mind – but the worry dissipated to nothingness when they came to the platform. A train was waiting there, as promised, a single door still open.
“Go ahead first, my lady.” The man smiled as he took her hand and helped her step onto the train – then gave her one solid push. She stumbled forward, but as she regained her footing and asked him what he had done that for—
She realized that he was not with her, and that the door was closed. With a shout, Elizabeth went to the window, her hands pressing against it. All she saw was an empty platform, her breath catching when the man was nowhere to be seen. Where did he go?!
Her hands fell to the door handle, straining as she tried to push it open with her shoulder. It felt locked shut – from the outside, she noted with surprise – and tried once more to look over the platform to catch a glimpse of the man.
The train jolted then, causing her to lose her footing and fall against the wall. The station was gone in no time, the train picking up speed faster than she anticipated. By the time she found something to hold onto, the countryside was whizzing past in a flurry of green and orange.
Gripping tight onto any holds she could find, Elizabeth stumbled into the next car, only to discover several compartments. Such a lavish arrangement – burgundy carpets, gentle lighting encased in glass – officially confirmed that this was not her train. As she passed each one in an attempt to find someone, anyone, she discovered that they were all empty. There was no evidence that this train had any passengers other than herself.
With a quiet prayer that she was not in danger, Elizabeth decided that the best thing to do would be to wait for a collector to come along and see her ticket, before urging her to get off at the immediate next stop and find her real train. Finally opening one of the doors, she slipped into the compartment and closed it behind her, opting to pull the shade down over the window so as not to let the rising sunlight in.
Hopefully, the ticket collector will be by soon, and he can wake me up and help me out.
That was her last thought as she finally closed her eyes, letting sleep take her away.
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
The man had not left the platform.
To the few sleepy-eyed passengers waiting at the station, it appeared as if the lady had knocked over her bag and was talking to herself as she gathered up the items. It was a simple enough illusion charm that most people ignored after a moment or two. Nobody saw the man that guided her out onto the platform or pushed her onto the train.
If he did not want to be seen, then he was not seen. Such magic was child’s play for him.
The lady pressed her hands against the window, concerned eyes scanning for him. He tipped his hat as the train let out a rich trilling whistle and started to move, the whisper of a spell cast over her mind.
“Don’t fret, princess,” he said in a hushed breath. “We’ll meet again soon enough, when you have broken that foul ringleader.”
With that, he turned on his heel, his figure dissolving into nothing as he started to stride towards the station once more.
His stage was set. His work was done.
Now, he had to wait for the players to make their moves.
───────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────
When Elizabeth came to, the sun was shining pleasantly through the curtained window. She stretched sore limbs and glanced around the still-empty compartment. Checking her watch, it informed her that it was just past eight.
Strange. Why hasn’t the collector shown up? Have we not stopped at a station yet? Frowning to herself, she gave the shade a sharp tug and let it snap up.
She was confronted with the sight of the ocean.
An unlimited expanse of blue glittered with the rays of the sun. There was no land as far as the eye could see. Elizabeth let out a shout, scrambling back in her seat and bumping against the glass of the compartment – right as the door slid open.
As she turned with a poorly worded, confused question on her lips, words left her entirely.
The Illusionist was standing before her. Even without his golden costume and gilded tent, he was utterly recognizable with his long blond hair braided over a shoulder and inquisitive golden eyes. A warm smile rose to his features as he stared down at Elizabeth.
“Good morning. And who might you be?”
Speech finally came back to her tongue as she stuttered out. “Elizabeth. And, f-forgive me, sir. Is this your compartment? And…” She trailed off, the unspoken question impossible to ask. “And are we riding across the ocean?”
The Illusionist paused a moment, then let out a gentle laugh. “No, ma chérie. This is my train.”
A circus that only opens at nightfall. The same cast performs the acts, no matter how many years have passed. Individuals who once came as children recognize the smile of the lion tamer or the confidence of the acrobats, wondering if they are the same people from all those years ago. But of course, such a feat is impossible – even for a circus.
When a young woman named Elizabeth enters the circus, she is instantly swept up in its enchantment and mystery. But when a strange man pushes her onto a train that can traverse the world and results in her having no way to return home, she finds herself stuck in the company of the circus. Only by befriending the actors and assistants behind the scenes is she privy to learn the secrets behind éternité – and finally leave the circus.
[Inspired by and fused with the world and aesthetic of The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. Content spoilers for the book are not present.]
…
This fanfiction is also part of the Ikemen Vampire Big Bang, a fic-and-art fandom collaboration event! Find out more about the event itself and the set-up on Tumblr @ikevampbigbang!
A young woman enters the circus without expectation.
It is a brisk Sunday evening, and the sudden appearance of a circus had been the talk of the town. Some who lived nearby insisted it was magic – an empty field one moment, a fantastical circus erected the next. Nobody had seen the bold colorful tents rise or heard any indication of the construction that must have happened to build the mighty golden fence around the premises.
Previous visitors to the circus and patrons from out of town follow it, swapping stories of their favorite acts and tents. But when the young woman attempts to ask for recommendations – as it will be her first time attending – she is met with refusals accompanied by slight smiles.
Their only advice is: “You should experience the circus for yourself.”
And when she walks into the circus, she finds herself grateful that she listened to their words of wisdom.
Every corner brings about some new fantastical wonder. There are forest-green tents as tall as the highest trees that house acrobats and dancers. A lion tamer dressed in an elegant red and black tames his namesake beast, his dashing smile eye-catching even from afar. The air tastes as sweet as the popcorn and caramel apples she purchases, happily eating them as she continues her spiraling journey.
When it draws close to midnight, she must return to the realm she came from, beyond the tents and spectacles locked behind their gilded fence. When she sleeps, she dreams of the circus. When she works, visions of the acts repeat in the back of her mind.
She returns three more evenings over the next five days.
On her final night, she chooses to wander the circus and admire it from the outside in. Whispers from crowded lines to more popular tents and wistful murmurs from patrons next to her lamented the fact that the circus would be gone by the following morning. It never stayed longer than a week. So with her remaining hours, she only has the time to experience the finest of what the circus has to offer, and wants to take her time deciding.
By walking between the multi-colored tents, rather than inside them, the woman gains a newfound appreciation for the little touches placed upon the circus. She finds foods she has never tried before, missing what the vendor says when they explain the trick to crafting such delicately powdered, doughy delicacies – but they taste of cinnamon and chocolate and remind her of fond family memories.
While meandering down one particularly winding path lined by tents of silver and blue, a statue still as glass catches her attention for a moment. A blond-haired man stands before the pedestal, a sketchbook in hand as he stares up at the figure. He does not pay the woman any mind as she stands a few steps away, his scarf billowing in the light breeze. His full attention is on the living artwork before him. She takes the time to admire it alongside him, thinking that the craftsmanship on the statue is beautiful.
Her jaw drops when the statue then makes the slightest movement, and she realizes that the figure is breathing, just barely. The man is seemingly captivated by the change, furiously sketching something out on an already-crowded page, his stained fingers not minding the smudges they leave in other places.
He is still there when she decides to leave and head deeper into the circus.
A fortune teller’s tent catches her curiosity, but she decides against it, deciding that it was foolish – all she could think to ask is how soon she could return to the circus again.
(If she had entered, she would find that the answer would be “much sooner than expected.”)
One tent finally draws her in. It is golden in shade, the fabric a soft shimmer against the hanging lights about the circus. Where other signs might list the acts performed inside or show times, this one is simple:
Illusionist.
It is a single word, and yet it draws her in nonetheless. She enters the tent, an intimate space with a semicircle of chairs facing a single raised platform that is empty on all sides with no curtains to speak of. Twelve of the fifteen seats are taken. She takes the one on the end, leaving another open next to her.
Two men enter a minute later, their conversation dying at a hush from the taller, dark-haired one. The young woman glances back at the sound, and she catches the way the shorter, pink-haired one freezes for a moment and grabs the coat of the taller man, gesturing to the two remaining seats. Before the woman can rise to offer to move, the taller man shakes his head and urges the other to take the seat on the other side alone. When he comes to sit by her, he murmurs a polite apology in a language she does not catch before sitting down.
Then, she blinks.
It is a mistake that she did. For one moment, there is nobody on the stage. In the next, a man stands upon it. He is dressed in black with glided gold accents on his coat and vest, matching both his fine hair and the fabric that makes up the tent around them. As he steps forward and gives the audience a single, low bow, unseen lights dim overhead. Only a single, solitary spotlight remains, trained on the illusionist.
His performance from there on can only be described as miraculous.
He produces doves from thin air, no cages or boxes in sight. When he throws a small cloth into the air, a shower of glitter passes over the audience, but no evidence of the sparkling flecks remain on anybody’s hair or clothes.
Playing cards fold themselves into hearts and stars, flying about the room without restraint before suspending themselves in a makeshift backdrop behind the stage. Other cards find their way into audience members’ hands, before turning into something else when handed back to the illusionist – the woman’s is transformed into a string of rainbow-hued handkerchiefs, while the man next to her has his made into a fountain pen that is then seemingly crushed into a cascade of ink. It does not stain the illusionist’s white gloves.
The performance concludes when the room is as empty as it started, with only the illusionist and his audience before him. He casts a sidelong glance towards the lady – or perhaps to the man next to her, she is not sure – and smiles knowingly before bowing deeply towards those gathered in his tent.
Then, his feet slowly start to turn gold. It takes a moment for the woman to realize that the illusionist is disintegrating before her eyes, dissolving into a fine golden dust that climbs up his still-bent body.
When he is nothing but a tidy pile on the platform, the lights turn on once more. The act has concluded.
The lady stands immediately, hesitantly stepping up to the stage with a few other audience members. She does not dare to reach across the unspoken, unseen barrier that separates actor from audience, but studies the powder that litters the stage. As a couple people turn away, the air shifts and causes a few specks to sift away from the pile.
She wonders, briefly, if that means the man will never be whole again.
Summary: If someone had told Mozart three months ago that he would soon experience the greatest sorrow in his life, he would have scoffed and disregarded them immediately.
For three months ago, he had been standing next to his bride at the altar. The image of her smile of her beautiful white gown, her smile, and her bright eyes was ingrained in his mind, a vision that he planned to take into dreams of their future together. She was his muse and melody. All his music belonged to her, forever.
Their first months passed in bliss, but their happiness was not to last.
Pairing & Characters: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart/Main Character (IkeVamp); Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Comte de Saint-Germain, Sebastian, William Shakespeare, Vlad, Faust.
Count: 3,990 words
Rating:Teen & Up
Notes:This work was written for Les Gouttelettes, an Ikemen Vampire Zine centered around writing fairy tales and mythology with the Ikemen Vampire cast! Find it at @ikevampzine!
There was no limit to his power when he played. No one and no thing could resist him.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart never left the piano’s side the entire evening. He insisted on casting a constant, raging spell, captivating any soul lucky enough to be swept up in his musical realm. The songs he performed were spritely and charming, urging all the party’s attendees to participate in at least one dance.
Music had remained a steadfast, constant companion all his life. He cherished the arts like a lover, and was grateful that Le Comte de Saint Germain gave him the support and space to fully embrace his craft. In return, he used his masterful talent for performance at Le Comte’s will, charming any audience he desired. He did this without question.
Le Comte had, after all, given him more than support for his compositions and a roof over his head. He had also granted him the opportunity to meet the love of his life. The image of her lingered in his mind as the party dragged on until the morning hours. Even when the host’s manor was half-empty, those who remained too drunk to listen or dance, he still played.
He did it for the photograph before him. Mozart had memorized the songs beneath his fingers long ago, no longer needing the music before him. All he needed was his wife, smiling at the camera. She was settled in a window seat within the Germain residence, the book in her hands tucked aside in favor of the photographer’s company. Sebastian had taken it for him and allowed Mozart to keep the photo for himself. He typically kept it on his desk.
Now, Mozart took the photograph everywhere.
It was all he had of her right now, anyway.
If someone had told Mozart three months ago that he would soon experience the greatest sorrow in his life, he would have scoffed and disregarded them immediately.
For three months ago, he had been standing next to his bride at the altar. She was dressed in the most beautiful white gown he had ever laid eyes on, yet it paled in comparison to the way her expression lit up when she started walking down the aisle. The image of her smile and bright eyes was ingrained in his mind, a vision that he planned to take into dreams of their future together. She was his muse and melody. All his music belonged to her, forever.
Their first months passed in bliss, but their happiness was not to last.
One night, Mozart had been asked to fill in for a fellow musician who had taken ill. It should have been a simple enough affair, as the venue was well-respected and the guests were polite, but the environment was wholly unfamiliar to him. Despite his hesitations, he performed a spectacular show – ignoring the beer-sticky keys that made his experience positively dreadful. As soon as his last chord had faded into the applause, he begged his host for the location of the nearest washroom and found it without incident.
What mattered was what he chanced upon during his walk back.
He ended up lost in the winding halls of the venue. Wandering feet led him to a partially open door, hushed voices reaching the hallway. Praying that they would be able to help him find the party, Mozart peered through the crack in the door.
What on earth—!
His palms grew sweaty as he laid eyes upon what was happening inside the room. A few men were seated around a low table displaying various guns and other weapons. A pair of easels were set up off to one side, holding some rather beautiful works of art. As Mozart stared, one man clicked open a suitcase on his lap – revealing that it was filled to the brim with cash.
Flinging himself away from the door, Mozart held his breath.
I can’t believe it! There’s something terrible going on here. Something illegal! I have to get away—!
Before Mozart could escape, the door swung open fully. One of the men in the room stood before him, a gun in hand. It clicked in tandem with the closing of the door, leaving Mozart and the man alone in the hallway.
“Surely,” the man began slowly, a faux smile tugging at the edges of his lips, “you aren’t thinking of reportingus, are you?”
“No! I swear! I was just trying to find my way back to the party!” Mozart kept his gaze trained on the gun, watching for any sign of it going off. “I had no intent of reporting you or anybody in that room!”
“How reassuring. The only thing more reassuring would be putting a bullet in your chest. But…” The man lowered his gun. “The patrons would surely be displeased if I killed the musician who played so beautifully tonight. They kept going on and on about your golden performance.”
“Did they really?” Mozart lifted his gaze then, finally taking a proper look at the man before him. Fierce red eyes stared back at him, glittering from beneath stark-white bangs. He was no longer smiling, and Mozart wasn’t sure if he preferred this expression to the other.
The last notable characteristic was a pin on the man’s lapel. The ouroboroswas a familiar sight – one he recognized from some of the tales he had perused in Le Comte’s manor.
“They truly did. But do not think I am letting you go without any consequences.”
Mozart tensed, not daring to respond. He did not drop his guard nor take a single breath until the man turned around and went back inside the room.
When the door clicked shut, Mozart ran. He bid his proper farewells and collected his coat, but did not feel any semblance of relief or safety until he had returned to the manor in one piece. Upon his return, he was greeted by both Sebastian and Le Comte.
“Herr Mozart,” Sebastian said in greeting, bowing before taking his coat. “Might I ask – did you take your wife with you to the party?”
“Hm? No. It was a sordid affair. I would never have wished for her to attend.”
“How curious,” Le Comte said then, his expression growing puzzled. “Then where is she? After all, Sebastian, you only grew worried when she hadn’t come down to help with the dishes. And I just checked the library. She wasn’t in there, either.”
Mozart’s face paled, and he swept past the pair to head right for his shared room. Surely, his wife had to be there. Le Comte and Sebastian simply hadn’t checked, yet. Surely, he would open the door and see his beloved asleep.
Yet when he threw open his door, the image of an ouroborosstared back at him, stamped upon a small calling card that rested atop his pillow.
“No… No! Not her!” He fell back into the hallway, hands clenching at his chest and mouth as Le Comte and Sebastian rushed to his side. “L-Le Comte! Sebastian! It’s—”
Sebastian entered the room first, striding over to the bed and plucking the calling card from the pillow. Le Comte rested a hand on Mozart’s shoulder, turning him so that he could meet his gaze.
“Start from the beginning, Mozart. What happened?”
“It’s— It’s the man I met tonight. But I only met him tonight, Le Comte! How could heknowmy wife? Where your house is?”
“There will be time for those questions later,” Le Comte said. “What matters is what this man looked like. Who was he, Mozart?”
“I don’t know his name. I only know he had white hair. Red eyes. There was a pin on his lapel – an ouroboros, just like that one. I didn’t really notice much more, as I was more focused on his gun—” Mozart did not catch the way Sebastian’s eyebrows shot up at that and continued on— “but he was exchanging something with people. Guns. Art pieces. Money.”
“I can’t believe it,” Sebastian breathed as he came closer. “Monsieur Le Comte, this means…”
Le Comte nodded sharply, taking the card as Sebastian held it out. He examined it for a moment before giving it to Mozart. “It means that our home has been threatened. And they have started with you.”
Mozart’s gaze fell as Le Comte turned the card over, displaying a fine script on the back.
“You will have to come and drag her out of hell yourself.”
──────────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ────────────
Mozart’s thoughts faded to a numb nothingness as he emerged from inside his own mind. The piano before him was silent and empty. His hands were not gliding across the ivory keys – rather, they were settled on his lap.
When did I stop playing? When did my music die?
Before he could determine the answer, a man sat down on the bench next to him, startling Mozart when he ran his fingers over a few of the keys.
“You and I share a common patron,” he said as Mozart finally looked upon his features. Magenta hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, and his outfit was made up of frills and various patterns, merely highlighting the crux of his rather eccentric appearance – a pair of sparkling two-tone eyes that studied Mozart with fascination.
“You don’t look like anybody who lives in the manor.” Mozart frowned, frustrated at his inability to place this man’s face with a name. “And if you were one of Le Comte’s artists, you would have to live there.”
“Ah! But you see, I am one who lives outside that sanctuary of dreams. One William Shakespeare, at your merry service. Playwright, author, and actor.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he produced a card with a flourish. Mozart accepted it, eyes flickering down to read the name –
And his blood turned to ice when the same twisting, feeding snake showed itself again.
“You’re wrong,” Mozart insisted, extending the card back. “I have nothing to do with the man who owns this card. The only man I work for is Le Comte de Saint-Germain. You should not insult his good name like this.”
“No, no! I do not mean to insult our mutual good patron. I swear upon mine honor and mind, Le Comte has me in his employ. But you see…” Shakespeare reached out, trailing his finger around the image of the ouroboros, “this man does, too.”
“Then what does this man have to do with me?”
“Your beloved is in his clutches, is she not?” Shakespeare smiled wide as Mozart’s features paled. “If you want to rescue her, you merely require your music. Come to the address listed on the back of the card in three days’ time. If you play as beautifully as you played this evening, you might have a chance at seeing your love.”
Mozart gazed once more at those two-tone eyes. They told him no lies.
“Fine. Tell ‘our’ patron I’ll be there.”
──────────── ⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ────────────
On the appointed evening, Mozart left the manor and gave the chauffeur the address. The ride was quiet, save for when the chauffeur informed him that he was under strict instructions from Le Comte to wait outside for Mozart until he was finished. This news relieved a few worries in the back of his mind.
When they reached the establishment, Mozart peered out the window and read the neon-lit sign.
Nine Circles. He rolled his eyes as he got out of the car, his music tucked under one arm as he strode towards the doorway. I wonder if that name turns people away or draws a more… interesting crowd.
The heavy, gilded door opened as he approached, an attendant pointing him to the other end of a small foyer. A pair of imposing men stood guard at the entrance to the main room, stopping Mozart as he came forward.
“My apologies, sir. You have to leave your weapons at the door.”
“Excuse me!” Mozart gasped, offended. “I don’t have anything of the sort!”
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. The man seized him by the collar, yanking him forward with a growl as the other reached out towards him—
Then another hand tugged at the back of his coat. Mozart breathed a sigh of relief as he was released, noticing the first familiar face of the evening when it appeared at his side.
“His tongue tells no lies like our usual crowd,” Shakespeare announced. “This man is here to enchant the crowd with the ivory keys this evening. We shall pass, now, and not disturb you for the rest of the night.”
Grunting with approval, the guards said nothing more. Mozart allowed Shakespeare to guide him into the main room. Waves of smoke made the décor hazy and unfocused. The clinking of half-filled glasses could be heard across the room, the sound loud compared to the hushed words exchanged across tables and between guests.
“You should perform sooner, rather than later.” Shakespeare insisted as they arrived at the other end of the room. A jet-black piano was nestled in the corner, and Mozart stared at it as Shakespeare removed his coat for him and laid it on the bench. “It will be the simplest way of gaining hisattention.”
“That’s not true. The first thing I should do is search for my wife. She should be somewhere in this room, right?”
“No.” Shoving him down onto the piano bench, Shakespeare glared at Mozart. “The only thing your hands possess is music. You are good for little else, and yet, your talent is the one thing that will rescue you and your wife in one swift stroke. Good luck, my fair friend.”
With that, he was gone.
Mozart stared down at the piano, one hand settling on the keys. As he played the first notes of a simple piece, he noted that the fetchingly beautiful piano was slightly out of tune. Frowning at this realization, he went through his folder and chose appropriate pieces, arranging them on the music rack. Then, after placing the photo of his wife on the side – he began to play.
The room was swept under his spell in mere seconds. Muted conversations became requests to dance, and formerly secluded company began to mingle with the tables next to them. The dancefloor was crowded in minutes, joy and laughter swelling through the darkened room. His music had never failed to charm an audience so completely and utterly before, but to see the dramatic shift happen in so short a time—
Well, Mozart could only wonder if this was part of the test, or if Shakespeare had led him astray.
After he had gone through a few spirited songs and entertained a couple requests, he finally saw his new, unwanted patron. He swept into view with a single lady in his arms. She wasn’t his wife, thank goodness – the woman in question was a blonde – but the man looked just as Mozart remembered him.
He possessed the same stark-white hair, but had slicked it back for the occasion. Deep red eyes that appeared to be completely focused on his partner, yet he glanced elsewhere several times. The ouroboros pin still adorned his lapel, declaring his status and presence to all who laid eyes upon it.
Mozart lost sight of him before long, allowing him to return his complete focus to the music. As the song came to a close, Mozart reached up to adjust the music on his stand – ignoring the man who emerged from the crowd.
“Are you the pianist Shakespeare hired?”
Mozart frowned as the person sat down on his bench uninvited. “I am.”
The man smiled, his glasses glittering in the low light as he reached out to take the photo from the stand. “And is this your wife?”
“It is.”
Nodding, the man tucked it back next to the music. “Excellent. I am Johann Faust. The head of Nine Circles desperately wants to meet you. His only regret is that he will be drawing you away from this enthusiastic crowd.”
“I would rather meet him than continue playing.”
Faust stood from the bench, swinging the fallboard shut as soon as Mozart removed his hands from the keys. “Then there is no need to worry about your remaining duties. Come along. Do not fall too far behind.”
Seizing only his coat and the photo of his wife, Mozart rushed to follow. They wove through the still-dancing crowd towards a doorway concealed by a well-placed folding screen. When Faust pressed a button on the wall, a rumbling sound came from high above them, growing closer before coming to a stop. The door was then opened to reveal an iron gate and small room behind it.
“It’s safe, I assure you,” Faust said as he slid open the gate. “They have refined the elevator to be a much smoother ride.”
Swallowing a nervous gulp, Mozart stepped inside and allowed Faust to close the door and gate before pressing a button for the top floor. They rode up in silence.
When the elevator jerked to a stop, Faust stepped aside to allow Mozart to leave – alone.
“I have something I must attend to first,” he said plainly, answering Mozart’s question before he could ask it. With that, he shut the door once more. Now unattended, he thought it smart to take note of his surroundings.
It was a small sitting room, decorated with a lavish plush carpet. The soft, dark shades of the room complimented the single bright lights that illuminated a few bold works of art. Leather sofas and low tables were scattered around the space, but Mozart ignored them all in favor of heading for the single door opposite the elevator. Thankfully, it was unlocked.
When he stepped inside, Mozart was first aware of how largethe top floor was. The cavernous space nearly expressed a desire to consume him whole. A dark-tile floor reflected the silver moonlight that came through the large window at the other end of the room, where the illuminated city was visible beneath the towering building. Mozart caught glimpses of the art and sculptures that lined the walls around him, lit in a similar fashion to those in the foyer.
“Welcome,” someone called out from the chaise before the window. “Come forward, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. We can only have a proper conversation when neither one of us has to shout.”
Mozart walked forward silently, quietly noting that the black tiling came to an end around the chaise – instead, a white ouroboros circled the seat. It grinned up at Mozart, but he could not tell if it was overjoyed to see him or instead proud of its cannibalistic self-consumption.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you properly. My name is Vlad.” He threw an arm over the back of the chaise, smiling wide as he eyed Mozart carefully. “You were bold to come alone. I surely thought you would bring one of Le Comte’s bodyguards with you.”
“I knew that I had to do this alone.”
“And what have you come here to do?”
“I have come to ask for my wife back. You don’t need to drag her into my affairs, into my mess. I feel as if, because I have lost her, I have lost everything: my muse, my life, and my love.”
“Well, that’s a tad dramatic and droll.” Vlad rolled his eyes. “You clearly haven’t lost your playing, since you brought life back to a room filled with hatred and malice. Even as Saint-Germain’s little musician, you clearly have some talent. Which is good for both me and you.”
Mozart bristled at the tense way Le Comte’s name rolled off Vlad’s tongue. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you can have your wife back – on one condition.”
“Name it.”
Vlad grinned at Mozart’s eager, immediate response. “I want you to come back, once in a while. You perform for my crowds, my parties. And you do not breathe a word of it to Le Comte. If you tell him or anybody else, it’s your neck on the line.”
“Done. You have my word. Now give me my wife back.”
“So hasty.”
The single door opened then, and Mozart turned to see Faust escorting someone into the room – his wife’s shivering figure relaxing when she saw him. Mozart could scarcely breathe until she was close enough to touch, to hold. Without thinking, he threw his coat over his wife’s shoulders.
Before they could speak and rejoice, however – they heard a single, ominousclick.
“Your services for this evening are no longer required,” Vlad said as he held up his gun. “Take your wife, turn your back, and leave. Do not hesitate. Do not turn around. If you have no doubts about your choices, and no doubts about your promises, then all will be well. Show a single shred of doubt, and I’ll shoot her.”
Mozart wrapped his hand tight around his wife’s, squeezing it reassuringly. “Follow my lead, darling,” he whispered. “And don’t look back.” They turned together, and she fell in one step behind as they walked back across the tiles.
A thousand prayers that neither of us will turn our heads.
His ears rang in silent alarm as his vision zeroed in on the door to the sitting room. Their only way out.
A thousand more prayers that Vlad will not sense a shred of doubt within me.
The room smelled of blood, of a scent that he knew could not be real. The gun hadn’t gone off – had it?
I mean to leave. I mean to take her with me.
Part of him wondered if his wife was still with him – or if she had died and was merely imagining the phantom sensation of her grip. He shoved the morbid thought aside, resisting the urge to increase his pace.
My wife is the most important figure in my life. I will do anything to keep her safe.
Only when he reached the exit did he begin to breathe again, still not looking back as he led his wife inside. Blindly, he reached back, shutting the door behind him.
But they were not safe yet.
Now out of sight from Vlad’s gaze, Mozart rushed to the elevator, thankful that it was still on the top floor as he opened the gate. The two of them stepped inside, and he finally dared to turn around in order to close the elevator up.
Nobody had followed them. After pressing the lowest button on the panel, the elevator began to descend – and they both followed it, collapsing to the floor in a tight embrace.
“Meine liebe, meine liebe,” Mozart whispered twice, breathless and overjoyed. She squeezed her arms tighter around him, her tears coming as quick as they always did. They soaked into his jacket and wet his cheek as her mouth brushed against his in a longing, thankful kiss.
“Wolf… you were so brave! I’m so sorry for causing you so much worry. I’m sure the others are just as scared – but I heard through the door what you promised that man! I won’t accept it! We should tell Le Comte, or… or leave the city—!”
Mozart pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her as he shook his head. “None of that matters at this moment. First, let me worry about you. While I am happy to have you back in my arms, I will not feel at ease until we are out of this hellish place.”
With that, he kissed her once more, only pulling away once the elevator came to a stop. Even as they walked out of the building and back to the car, he refused to admit that he was just as doubtful as she was about where this new path might lead them… but so long as she was allowed to remain at his side, he knew he would do anything to keep her there.
