Spirits of the Earth

@Paladienne

---

Smiling to patrons as he steered the two young people before him toward his tent, Vis tightened his grip on both Addie and Rhyske. The placid, friendly expression on his face never slipped, not until they were inside the tent, out of sight from the carnival grounds.

Then his shoulders slumped and he paced tiredly toward a small desk tucked into a back corner of the tent. Well, "tent" was a little misleading; it was essentially a portable home and office, with plenty of space inside and a few gossamer dividing curtains hanging from the ceiling. The whole place smelled of chamomile and iron, just subtly, but enough to catch a guest's attention.

Viserian clicked his fingernails against the wood of the desk, then glanced back up at his daughter and the young thief she'd helped Snake hide. "So. Who wants to explain the specifics of this whole debacle, hm?"

Rhyske had never felt small before, but before Viserian, he felt microscopic. He'd never experienced something like this before, where an adult just simply stared at him and waited for him to break. His mother would simply strike him, or she would cry, or she would scream and rant and make him feel like he was the most useless piece of flesh ever made. But he had never felt small. He'd never felt as if he were no longer in control, because eventually Rubiyah would collapse or stop ranting and raving and end up needing him to take care of her. But now... now he felt like he wasn't in control at all.

He glanced at the girl. She wasn't speaking. If anything, she looked like she wanted to curl up into a ball and hide. Which meant that he needed to speak, because everything that had happened was his fault, and his fault alone.

So he took a deep breath and said, "I was... I was working the crowd. Stealing. It's how I make a living. I mean, they're rich, right? So it's not like they'd miss much. And I was careful not to stay in one area for too long, either. But... one guy happened to see me do it. Steal from him, I mean. And then I was running away from him and fell into that pale guy's tent, and he said I should run to this girl here, and he'd stop them from following me. But he didn't, and they did, and..."

Rhyske trailed off, staring at Viserian and waiting for the man to respond.

"I see." Viserian leaned back against his work desk, tapping his clawed fingers against the wood faster now. He looked to Addie. "And you?"

The trapeze artist shrugged, arms wrapped loosely around her middle as she stared at her feet. "He told me Snake had sent him, and I figured that was good enough. So I helped. Or I tried to."

"Mm..." The Ringmaster looked between the two of them, expression inscrutable. "You, lad. Why exactly did Snake decide to help you? Did you say something to him? Do something?"

Rhyske lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I just... fell into his tent and knocked over a bunch of swords. I offered to pick them up, and he asked what I was running from, so I told him. It wasn't like the rich people needed the money, you know? No one noticed until that last guy."

His shoulders dropped then, and he looked away from Viserian. "I don't know what I did or said or anything. He just... offered to help. That's all."

"You just told him?" Viserian lifted an eyebrow. "Snake asked what you were doing and you just...told him?"

Addie glanced sidelong at the boy, shifting her weight slightly from foot to foot. She wasn't sure exactly what her father was thinking, but she could tell he was getting into one of his moods.

Rhyske stood straighter, his bright eyes narrowing at the tone of Viserian's voice. "Yeah, I just told him." he spat out, not liking the way he was being spoken to at all.

Okay, he'd screwed up and had gotten innocent people involved in his stupidity. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. He just... hated being lectured like this. Like he didn't know he was wrong.

And that got his temper up. So he couldn't quite control his tone when he snapped, "I just told him what I'd done, and he told me to go to her, and she'd help me, too. What do you want me to say? It was an accident that I fell into his tent. If I hadn't tripped, you wouldn't be involved, and I wouldn't be here being lectured like I'm a little kid! I'm not a little kid! I've been taking care of myself for a long time, okay? I don't need you telling me that I messed up! I know I did!"

His temper, though, didn't last long. The young Horizon quickly deflated, his eyes drifting to the floor and his expression became melancholy. "I already said I was sorry."

"Easy there, lad." Viserian raised his hands peaceably.

Addie took a step away from Rhyske, instinctively wary. In her experience, angry men yelling never ended well. Even young ones.

The Ringmaster noted her caution, but didn't comment on it. Holding the young elf's gaze, he said calmly, "I'm not going to lecture you, child. And you are a child by the way, at least when compared to myself." He tilted his head slightly to the side. "And I believe your apology, like I believe that you told Snake the truth."

His lips quirked into a wry grin, showing a flash of sharp canines. "Which is why he helped you by the way. Because you told him the truth willingly. Theft aside, that is an admirable trait, knowing when lies will only dig you further into damnation."

Rhyske stared, uncertain what Viserian was getting at. Because he told the truth, Snake had decided to help him? Because he hadn't lied?

"Well," Rhyske said, "what point is there in lying? If you tell the truth, you don't have to have a good memory." And, more, he wouldn't have to worry about his mother trying to figure out if what he said was a deception or not. Her hold on reality was tenuous at the best of times, and so Rhyske had learned early in his life not to mess with the fragile line between truth and fiction. "And anyway... the truth eventually gets out. People look at you differently after they catch you in a lie. Trust isn't an easy thing to get back once you lose it."

He glanced to the side at the girl, noticing how much distance there was between them now. He recognized it for what it was; she was afraid of him. Well, that wasn't new. Most people were afraid of him. Still, that made him feel infinitely worse, because she'd helped him when he'd needed it and now he'd returned that kindness with fear.

"I'm sorry," he said to the girl, hoping that the words would fix whatever had broken between them. Then he looked toward Viserian. "So what now? I'll leave here, and I won't come back, I promise. I'll just get my mother, and we'll go."

Viserian nodded slowly. "A good philosophy, lad." He flashed another fang-tipped grin. "But I wouldn't be so hasty to leave our fair carnival, there's no need for that."

Addie's eyes widened slightly as she caught on to what he was thinking. "Papa..." she eyed Rhyske sidelong. "Are you sure? We don't really know anything about him."

The demidemon shrugged. "I don't ask many questions of our family, Addie, you know that."

The girl fell silent, looking at her feet with a considering frown furrowing her brow. Turning to Rhyske again, Viserian arched an eyebrow. "Where is your mother now? Did she come with you today?"

Rhyske blinked. Don't be so hasty to leave? What the hell did that mean? Was this man really saying what he thought he was saying? And... family? Rhyske was so dumbfounded by what he was hearing that for a long while, he didn't know what to say to the question that Viserian had posed to him. Then he shook himself, tried to remember what it was that Viserian had said, and tried to make his tongue work in concert with his mind well enough that he could give the man an answer that sounded like normal instead of a garbled mess.

"My... my mother..." Rhyske stopped and licked his lips, trying to shove his shock somewhere to the back of his mind so he could give the man a clear response. "My mother should be wherever the food is. That's usually where I find her. A tavern, a bar, anywhere that offers food. She... takes all the money I make and just... spends it on food."

Honestly, he didn't know where she put it all, but she could - and had on a few occasions before - eaten everything that there was to offer. He didn't know why she ate as much as she did, but it didn't help her any, and rarely improved her mood or gave her the ability to be coherent.

Rhyske looked at Viserian with confusion. "Why?"

"Well, it seems we should go find her!" Vis clapped his hands and straightened up. "I'm sure she must be worried about you. Addie?"

His daughter, who had been watching Rhyske with a sudden look of stunned sympathy, snapped her attention back toward the Ringmaster. "Yes, Papa?"

"Why don't you find Snake? See how he's doing. I'll help this young man find his mother-- she may still be at one of the food tents."

"Yes, Papa." Addie nodded to him again, then turned to slip back out of the tent. She cast one last glance over her shoulder at Rhyske before she left, blue eyes darkened in the shadowy light.

Rhyske blinked at the sudden joy in the voice of Viserian. He instinctively took a step back, as if he was prepared to defend himself. But when Viserian did nothing but look at the girl and order her to go find Snake, Rhyske allowed himself to relax. He caught Addie's gaze, uncertain of what he saw on her face. Was she upset about what her father wanted? Or was it that she distrusted him and didn't like him? Well, either way, whichever one it was, Rhyske decided he didn't care. He was used to people distrusting him and not liking him. That wasn't his problem. He'd defend himself if he needed to, but he didn't actively go looking for a fight. And chances were, he'd never have to interact with Addie more than he needed to.

Well.

If he needed to.

He looked to Viserian once they were alone and studied the man as he might a high-value mark. Certainly the man was dangerous; Rhyske hadn't forgotten what he'd done to the circus patrons in order to protect his people, and he wasn't likely to forget that. He knew that those powers could just as easily be turned against him as they could be used to protect him. But what he didn't know what was what Viserian wanted. He didn't know what the man wanted with him and his mother.

"What is it you want?" Rhyske asked, simply blurting out the thought. "If it's about paying you back for any damage I caused, I can do that. I do have money that isn't dirty."

"Oh, I don't want your money, lad." Vis smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder as he steered the boy out of his tent. His grip was firm but not overbearing-- if Rhyske wanted to pull away he could do so easily.

"I want to help you," the Ringmaster continued as he began guiding them through the carnival grounds. "First, I want to help you find your mother, and see about getting her some delicious food from one of our stands if she hasn't already found some. After that...well."

He glanced down at Rhyske and smiled, sharp canines glinting briefly. "I'd like to help you as long as you'll let me."

After that, well... what?

Rhyske wanted to ask, but at the same time, he didn't know if he wanted the answer. He'd seen what Viserian could do, and he wasn't sure if the man was actually giving him a choice or just saying he had one. So, Rhyske followed him quietly for a moment, mulling over the man's words. He wanted to help him? Why? For what reason? Rhyske wasn't sure.

Finally, he looked up at Viserian. "No one's ever offered to help before. Sorry if I seem a little skeptical. What is it you want me to do in return for this help? What is it you want my mother to do? I mean, Mom's kind of... useless even on her good days, but she's my mother, you know? I can't just leave her behind somewhere. I can't just... walk away."

As they approached the food tents, it was easy to spot Rubiyah. She was sitting at a long table surrounded by empty bowls. The stacks didn't phase Rhyske one bit. He knew how much his mother could eat, especially with no one there to stop her. Especially when she had the coin for it. She was still eating, he saw, and Rhyske wondered - not for the first time - where all of that food went to, for it wasn't like his mother gained any weight.

Slowly, he approached her, smiling gently. "Hey, Mother." He stood by quietly until she rolled her head around to look at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you having a good time? Are you okay?"

Without blinking, Rubiyah stuck out her hand, palm up. "Money." she growled. "Give it here. I know you have some."

Rhyske winced. So, she was in that mood. He knew if he didn't give her what she wanted, she would cause a scene, and he felt there had already been enough of a scene for one day. He glanced toward Viserian apologetically, then stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out some coins, placing them in his mother's hand.

The Ringmaster paused the moment he caught sight of the woman. No expression visibly passed over his face, that same charming smile fixed in place as always.

He watched the interaction between mother and son placidly, but stepped forward when Rhyske moved to hand over the coin and put his own hand out, wrapping his fingers around Rubiyah's before she could take the money.

"My lady." He bowed at the waist, deeply, and brushed his lips across the back of her hand in a respectful, almost reverent kiss. Straightening up, he released her hand and said with a bright grin, "I wonder, would you be amiable to a conversation...somewhere a little more private? Your boy here has-- well, caught my attention, as it were, and I'd like to make you an offer." He looked between the two of them. "Both of you."

Rubiyah stared at the man addressing her, her grey-green eyes roaming from his face to his feet and back again. Her gaze slid to the side then to regard her son, then back to Viserian. Again her eyes moved, and she now stared at their joined hands, and at the spot where his lips had brushed her skin. Her eyes narrowed but not in a bad way, Rhyske decided. It was more like she was trying to remember something, and whatever she was trying to remember was evading her search. Rhyske hoped that, if she remembered, it would be a pleasant memory and not one that would trigger a fit that would leave her in an almost catatonic state. Or, worse, leave the circus a smoldering crater and then her in a catatonic state.

Thankfully, her expression relaxed as whatever she was trying to remember evaded her, and she pulled her hand from Viserian's grip. She gestured to the table she sat at then, indicating that the Ringmaster could sit if he so chose. A narrowed-eyed glower at Rhyske had him moving to the closest food tent to buy his mother more to eat, and as soon as he'd placed the platter in front of her and took his seat beside her, she began to tear into the food with a single-minded intensity.

"So," Rubiyah said around the food in her mouth, "what has my idiot son done this time, eh?" She chewed and swallowed, then picked up a chicken bone and pointed it at Viserian. "We don't need to go anywhere private to have a chat. He's not for sale, if that's what you're wondering."

Rhyske held in his groan. "Mother."

"Well, you're not." Rubiyah waved the bone around in the air, her eyes never leaving Viserian's face. "So what's this deal you have, mister? And just for the record, I'm not for sale either. I already gave that a whirl and look what it got me." Her head tilted toward her son, who looked away with a hurt look on his face.

Vis winced slightly, but covered it quickly, hopefully before the woman or her son could see. He turned up the charm a few degrees in his smile, leaning down and lowering his voice as he spoke to Rubiyah.

"Madam, I assure, my intentions are nothing sordid. However...I really do think it would be best if we had this conversation somewhere quieter." He glanced up at Rhyske, then back to his mother. "Perhaps you should choose the venue, if that might make you more comfortable?"

Rubiyah's jaw worked. Her eyes darted between Viserian and her son, and then focused on the plate of food in front of her. Rhyske knew she didn't much care for talking with others, especially about a potential future, but he wondered if his mother would put aside her own wants and needs to attend to someone else's. She often had strange spats of motherly love and affection for him, such as when she had gifted him her pendant, but those instances were few and far between. Still Rhyske knew she was capable of them. It just depended on what kind of mood she was in.

Maybe the weather, too.

Finally, Rubiyah lifted her hands and closed them on the plate in front of her, clutching tight to it. She lifted her chin, practically looking down her nose at Viserian.

"I don't know where a 'private' venue could be found in a place such as this," Rubiyah finally said, her words clipped with a haughty air, "but I suppose in this I'll defer to you."

Rhyske held back his wince. At least his mother was being polite. For her, anyway. He only hoped that Viserian didn't take offense to her words, and he hoped that the Ringmaster wouldn't demand that Rubiyah leave the plate behind. She certainly made it clear that she wasn't going to, especially when she rose from the table with it still in her hands.

He rose, too, giving Viserian a pleading look. Rhyske hoped the Ringmaster would understand that, in this, it was better just to let Rubiyah do as she wished. She'd be far more cooperative that way.

"Oh, that's not such a difficult task as you might think," Vis chuckled with another grand, sweeping bow. "Come, I can escort you to my tent." Glancing at the plate she clutched, he added shrewdly, "And I'm sure we can procure some more food for you, if you'd like."

Rubiyah seemed content then to follow Viserian to his tent. Rhyske sighed. So long as she had food, his mother would walk over broken glass without flinching. The boy trailed behind his mother and the ringmaster, keeping close in case his mother needed him for something, but otherwise he didn't interfere in her activity.

When they reached Viserian's tent, Rhyske held the flap open for his mother and the Ringmaster, then followed them into the tent. Rubiyah instantly plopped herself in a chair and began to eat again, her eyes following Viserian's every move.

"So," she asked between bites, "what is it you want wish to discuss?"

When they reached the tent again, Addie was already there, straightening up a few of the pillows and shimmery curtains that draped the place. When she heard footsteps approaching, she turned with a smile and started, "Papa, I was just--"

When it was the boy-- Rhyske-- she found holding open the tent flap, she snapped her mouth shut, going stiff. Her eyes tracked the strange woman that followed him warily, then flickered to the Ringmaster.

"Sorry," she said tersely. "I didn't realize you'd be bringing back...guests."

Viserian sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose before crossing to pat his daughter's shoulder. "Forgive me, Addie. I must deal with this business. If you could--"

"I'm going," the acrobat replied softly, turning on her heel and heading for the entrance to the tent. She paused a moment as she passed Rhyske, eyes looking him over coldly. Then she ducked her head and continued on her way.

The Ringmaster sighed again, leaning back to half-perch on his desk. He chuckled and shrugged at Rubiyah. "Kids." Clearing his throat, he ran a hand through his hair and continued, much more business-like, "To answer your question, I'd like to discuss a...contract of sorts, my lady."

Rhyske glowered at Addie right back as the girl swept past him, scowling at her back even when she was gone. He entered the tent after his mother and let the flap fall closed. Rubiyah sat in the closest chair and continued to tear into her meal as the Ringmaster talked, and Rhyske could see the wheels turning in her mind. They rarely did so, which meant that she was in one of her rare moods of clarity and reasoning.

At the mention of a contract, Rubiyah looked at Viserian sharply. "A contract? Of sorts? There aren't 'contract of sorts'. There are contracts and there are agreements. It's either one or the other. Which shall it be? What are the terms? I've already told you that neither of us are for sale. Therefore, what is it that you have to offer? What is that you have to entice me to agree to your proposal?"

Rhyske kept silent, watching his mother and Viserian both. He didn't know what the Ringmaster was trying to do, what he was trying to get at. A contract? What did that mean? Rhyske didn't know and wasn't sure he wanted to know. But, at the same time, he was curious. Because if the contract was going to provide them with a permanent home and food and a stable environment, Rhyske hoped his mother would quiet and listen, and he hoped that she would accept, if the terms were agreeable.

Viserian raised his hands peaceably. "I say of sorts because it is not a contract as most might think of it, a document I may whip out and lord over you at a moment's notice. It would be an exchange of words between us, words that would bind us both by our honor."

He glanced at Rhyske, and suddenly winked. "Such as it is. I think everyone in this tent can admit to a bit of swindling in their time, yes?"

Rhyske flushed, but Rubiyah didn't notice. Or, if she did, she didn't care. Ever since he'd been old enough to take care of himself, he'd been taking care of her, too, and as long as her needs were met, his mother often didn't care what he did, or what happened to him. This time, though, her attention was focused on Viserian for the longest time, the food in her lap forgotten for the moment. She raised a brow at the man, then returned her attention to the food, using her fingers to pick it apart as delicately as one might pick a flower.

"An exchange of words means little in this world. Meanings are not always what you'd think them to be." She looked up at him again and licked some grease off her fingers. "But you're an interesting fellow. Quite the charmer, as well. Very well, I'll listen. What is that you have to say? What is it that will entice me to sign our names to this paperless contract?"

"I can give you a home, my lady." The Ringmaster looked from the woman to her son, allowing that to sink in a moment. It wasn't an uncommon claim for a carnival-- but there was some sort of weight to Viserian's voice when he said it that was...strangely powerful. Looking back to Rubiyah, he continued, "For as long or as short as you want it, the carnival can be your haven. I am not a charity, I do not offer room and board for nothing, but your son has proven himself quick with his hands and tongue, and a soul of surprising integrity. I would gladly offer you both a place here in exchange for his work in Cirque du Fantasma."

His eyes flickered back to Rhyske, looking him up and down. "Should he be so inclined to take the offer, of course."

Rubiyah scowled a little as she focused on her son, who quickly went stiff, uncertain which side of his mother he was dealing with. Rhyske watched her carefully, seeing the wheels turn in her eyes and wondering which of her brains was in control here - the loving mother who wanted only the best for her son, the raving madwoman who caused an infinite amount of destruction, the helpless girl who needed assistance for every little thing, or the selfish, self-absorbed drunkard who cared nothing for anyone besides herself - and wondering what answer she would give Viserian. Rhyske knew his mother was likely to choose the best answer for herself rather than him, but she had surprised him on a few occasions.

Now seemed to be like one of those times.

"A home, you say?" Rubiyah said at last, turning her gaze upon the Ringmaster. "A home, bought and paid for by my son's quick fingers? And his work would pay for the both of us, I assume?"

Rhyske held his breath. If his mother agreed, Rhyske would gladly sign any contract Viserian put before him. The one thing in his entire life he'd wanted more than anything was a home, and if the Ringmaster was willing to give him and his mother a home here, where all Rhyske would have to do would be to do what he'd always done, then there was little choice, was there?

"Yes." The Ringmaster's face and voice softened further. "Yes, a home. And your place would be earned by Rhyske's talents."

He glanced to the boy again and smiled gently. "Though I wouldn't expect him to limit himself to just pickpocketing. We've plenty of quick fingers among our workers, and more than one of them would be happy to teach him sleight-of-hand for showmanship, I'm sure. If you're interested."

The last was directed at Rhyske specifically, making it clear that this was as much his decision as his mother's.

Rubiyah glanced at her son and then back to Viserian. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, as if she were falling deep in thought. Rhyske watched her, almost afraid that she was going to reject the Ringmaster's offer out of hand. It wouldn't be the first time she'd done so, and it wouldn't be the last.

Rhyske shifted to stand closer to his mother, and she angled her head to look at him, as if she were trying to decipher what it was he wanted without actually asking him. Her pursed lips spread out into a thin line, until the pink color had almost turned white. Her eyes narrowed even more, until Rhyske wasn't sure that she could even see him anymore, as her eyes were little more than slits hidden by thick, dark lashes.

"Mom," Rhyske said softly, "I want to do this. I want to learn to do more than just lift wallets. And, think about it. You'd never have to travel again. You'd never have to worry about food again, or a place to put your head at night. Think about it. Please?"

Rubiyah was silent for a long time. She turned her head away from her son and focused elsewhere in the tent, her gaze drifting from point to point without rhyme or reason. Rhyske stood by, watching. He didn't know if she'd gone off into her own world or if she was seriously thinking of what he'd said. Rhyske wanted to stay. He'd been traveling for so long that finally having the chance of a home was a strong incentive, almost addicting. He was afraid that she would make him choose, and as much as he would hate hurting her, Rhyske was almost certain that, for once, he would choose his wants over hers.

Finally, Rubiyah shifted and looked toward Viserian, her gaze somewhat steely. "You're serious? This would be our home? No one would run us off? No one would force us? No one would take my baby away from me?" She lifted a hand to her mouth and began to chew on her thumbnail. "My baby would be safe?"

"Yes, Mother," Rhyske said softly. "We'd be safe. I will keep you safe, I promised before, remember? I'll keep you safe."

Rubiyah looked at Rhyske for a heartbeat before returning her gaze to the Ringmaster. "If what you say is true, then we accept your offer."

Viserian grinned, flashing fangs. "Excellent. I'll go get someone to show you where you can stay. Would you two mind waiting here?"

He looked from mother to son, one eyebrow arched slightly.

"We'll wait here," Rhyske answered, seeing as his mother had already turned her attention back to the plate in her lap. He tried to offer Viserian a smile. "Once her mind is made up, there's hardly any changing it, so... we'll wait."

He looked at his mother then, wondering at last if she'd truly wanted to stay here, or if she'd agreed for his sake. He hoped it was the former, but even if it had been the latter, then she had had one of her rare moments of clarity where she'd thought of him before herself. Rhyske returned his gaze to the Ringmaster and nodded.

"This is going to be our home now," Rhyske said. "So... it's best to make sure we know where we're going than to just wander around lost, right?"

"Exactly right, lad," Vis said with a crooked grin, reaching out to ruffle the young man's hair. "I'll go see who's free to show you two around." And maybe check up on Snake while he was at it. Judging by Addie's rather cold reception of their newest member, he assumed the contortionist had suffered a right beating at the hands of those toffs.

When the Ringmaster returned several minutes later, it was with two colorful performers trailing after him-- the couple who had come to investigate the commotion earlier, the man holding his silver and gold flute loosely in one hand and the woman twisting and untwisting her hair from a series of braids even as she walked and chattered.

"'Lo! My name's Elea," she introduced herself cheerfully. "This is my husband, Myst. Vis here says you're gonna be staying with us? That's wonderful! We're on break right now, so we can show you around!"

Rhyske hesitated as the woman, Elea, introduced herself and her husband. He'd never been exposed to such enthusiasm before, and it threw him for a heartbeat. But, ever the survivor, Rhyske quickly recovered and grinned at Elea and Myst, offering his hand to shake.

"What he says is true!" Rhyske said brightly, grinning from ear to ear. "We're staying. I'm Rhyske, and this is my mother, Rubiyah. Don't mind her so much if she doesn't acknowledge you or look at you or talk to you, or whatever else. She's got her moods."

He moved toward his mother then, gently putting his hand on her shoulder. "Mother? It's time to go now. These nice people are going to show us where we're going to be living from now on. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Rhyske did his best not to react when his mother stared blankly at him and only held her plate of food closer to her chest. Wherever she was, she wasn't returning any time soon, so he gently pulled her to her feet and looped an arm around her waist, not so much supporting her as being able to better guide her as they walked. In this state, Rhyske knew, she was more like a life-size doll, and needed extra attention to ensure her safety.

Once she was settled, Rhyske looked at Elea and Myst and smiled. "Okay, we're ready. Lead on."

Elea and Myst exchanged a quick look when the mother seemed to just...disconnect. Rhyske moved and spoke as though this was a normal occurrence, and outwardly the musicians didn't react much, but that single glance spoke volumes between them.

"Well, since we travel around a lot, we try to keep to a general layout, but depending on the space where we set up that's not always possible," Elea jumped right in when Rhyske said they were ready. "So we can try to show you where everything is now, but we'll be on the road again at the end of the week and next time we set up it might be a bit different, you understand?"

"I'm sure he gets the idea," Viserian chuckled as he began to usher them all out of the tent. "Go on, go on. I'll be walking the grounds until our show this evening, it shouldn't be hard to find me if you need something." And with that, he closed the tent behind them, a puff of incense following in their wake.

Elea was already chattering about where they should go first, but her husband cut her off with a gentle hand on her shoulder. Looking to the two newcomers, he murmured, "Would it be best if we showed you to the personal tents first? We can find a place for you to stay, and perhaps your mother can lay down."

Rhyske smiled, nodding. Knowing where everything was, generally, would help him navigate, especially if things were arranged in relatively the same pattern. He could find landmarks easily enough, and recognize shapes and symbols to mean one thing or another. If he learned that, for example, the fortune teller's tent was right next to the illusionist's tent, then he could infer that the juggler's tent would be nearby. Rhyske had always been good with directions and visual signals, and could easily find his way from point A to point B without getting lost, but a circus was much different from a city where there were always recognizable points.

When they suggested taking him and his mother to the personal tents first, Rhyske hesitated. "Is there one available?" he asked, his voice soft. He didn't want to leave his mother with some stranger, because she might not react well to that. But if they already had a tent set aside for them - and with Viserian's abilities, Rhyske wouldn't be surprised if they did - then he'd agree to leave her behind, especially in the state she was in. She'd cause no harm to herself. "I don't want to impose on anyone if there isn't some place for us to stay. She doesn't react well to strangers when she thinks they're... you know. Unwelcome."

"Oh, I'm sure Vis has something set up by now!" Elea enthused. "Here, it's just this way."

They lead Rhyske and his mother through the winding labyrinth of tents, pointing out how one could tell which were entertainment and which were other offered services-- such as Mira's fortune-telling-- by the color of the flags that hung by the entrances and fluttered from the tops.

The personal tents, where the carnival members lived, ate, and slept, were clustered toward the back of the grounds, and significantly smaller than the rest. While a few of the entertainers chose to sleep in their entertaining tents-- again, Mira was mentioned-- most liked the bit of respite that the slightly separated personals provided.

Just beyond those tents, the animals were kept in a series of medium-sized, portable round pens. For the most part they seemed to be beasts of burden: mostly horses and oxen, the odd mule or donkey scattered through the small herd. Perhaps of note though was the smallish pack of riding dogs. The massive canines had clustered beneath nearby trees, panting lightly as they relaxed in the shade.

"Li will have to trim them soon," Myst noted blithely. Elea nodded.

"We've been heading further south, poor things. Ah, here we are!"

She stopped outside one of the smaller personal tents. While most of them were brightly colored, with little bobs and decorations added to the canvas to personalize them, this one was a plain cream, and seemed a little newer than the rest. It looked about big enough to comfortably fit two people, though not for anything beyond sleep and perhaps meals.

Rhyske stared at everything as Elea and Myst led him and his mother through the circus proper. He listened to everything they said, wondering if maybe by the way they spoke of this Mira that she was a rather odd duck for doing what she did, but then, he hadn't yet met one person in this place who wasn't odd in their own way.

As they cleared the entertainment tents, Rhyske focused almost immediately on the animals. He knew the horses and oxen, the mules and donkeys, even the few chickens and sheep and goats that wandered through calling and braying and generally making noise. When he saw the riding dogs, he almost stopped. He'd never seen creatures like that before, and was almost curious enough to go over and introduce himself to the animals, if only so he could touch them. He knew better than that, though. They were dogs - whether they could be ridden or not - and he knew how to interact with dogs. Better to ask permission than beg for forgiveness. He was sure, in time, he might be able to pet one, but for now, it was better to stick close to his guides and make sure they reached their destination with minimal incidents.

He wondered if he might be able to care for the animals as part of his duties. He interacted better with them than he did with people, and a circus could always use another person who could corral and wrangle the animals without causing them undue harm and injury. He didn't voice the opinion, though. He was sure that Viserian had some plan for him, and he really didn't want to mess up the Ringmaster's plans. But, eventually, he might ask about a change of venue.

When Elea stopped outside a small cream-colored tent, Rhyske realized that this tent was meant for him and his mother. He hesitated for a heartbeat before he moved to pull the tent flap aside and usher his mother inside.

While the tent itself wasn't furnished with personal effects and things like that - they had few, after all, and everything they owned, Rhyske carried with him - there were two bedrolls and a small table with a pair of chairs near the back of the tent. Rhyske was no stranger to sleeping on the ground, and he supposed having the bedroll was better than having nothing at all. He also found a pile of pillows and blankets, and decided they had either been donated by the others in the circus or they'd been pulled out of storage for their use.

He settled his mother in one of the chairs, then busied himself making a bed for her. He rolled out the padding, then layered several blankets on top of it. He added a number of pillows, both for her head, and as a barrier against the tent's wall to prevent her from rolling out that way. Then he rose and moved to stand by her side, reaching out to cup her shoulder.

"I made the bed for you, Mother," Rhyske said, knowing she could hear him even if she wasn't paying attention to him. "You should try to get some sleep when you're done eating. I'm going with Elea and Myst, but you'll be safe here. Don't worry. I'll be back in a little while."

He waited for a response, an indication that she understood, but Rubiyah remained as passive as ever. Rhyske held in a sigh, then left the tent to rejoin his guides.

"All right," he said, giving the two of them the best smile he could, "she's settled. I'm ready to go."

Elea and her husband waited politely outside while Rhyske got his mother settled. The curious looks from their fellow carnival members were waved off with smiles and shrugs-- it wouldn't be the first time that a long stop in one place resulted in picking up a new carnie or two. They would all get the full story later around dinner, or perhaps after their first show that evening.

When the lad reappeared, Elea smiled at him brightly and beckoned with a hand, her other hand tucked into the crook of Myst's arm. "Excellent. And you just let someone know if she needs anything-- I'm sure Vis will be more than happy to make sure she's comfortable."

"Speaking of the Ringmaster," Myst noted blithely, and he nodded back toward the direction of the performing tents. "We'd best get back to him and ask exactly what he's got planned for the newbie."

"Oh, there's no need to rush!" Elea beamed and squeezed her husband's arm lightly. "We're just supposed to help the lad get his bearings for a while, after all, and Vis will be busy with setting up for the show. What would you like to see?"

The last question was rather abruptly directed at Rhyske. Without waiting for an answer, Elea continued, "We can show you to the mess, or the practice areas-- I guess you've already seen the inside of the main tent, but we could give you a proper tour of that as well. Oh, or we could just make the rounds with the crowds?"

No sooner had the words left her lips when a distant wave of sound seem to roll in from the farthest tents, probably a new batch of carnival-goers.

As though heralded by the noise, a young woman with jet black hair and crimson eyes darted back through the personal tents, making her way toward the animals' pens. Her shoulders were hunched, eyes fixed on the ground as she hurried on her way.

Rhyske blinked at being addressed so suddenly. His mouth opened as if to answer, then then he shut it again. What did he want to see? He'd never really been to a carnival before, let alone one he was going to be living with for the foreseeable future. He'd never really had a chance to have fun. To be a kid. He'd always been looking out for himself and for his mother, since she'd taken a turn for the worse the moment he'd been able to feed himself. It was like their roles had suddenly been reversed - he was now the parent, while she was the child.

"I don't... I don't know." Rhyske began. "I guess... everything? I've never really... gotten to do anything like this before, you know? I..."

He paused as the wave of sound rolled through, his sensitive ears picking up the sound easily. His head automatically turned toward the sound, his blue eyes widening a little. Never had he heard such a sound before, a sound filled with amazement and laughter and joy. Usually when he heard loud sounds, it was yelling or cursing or a combination of the two. Then his eyes fell on the girl as she darted through the tents, and his curiosity grew. He pointed her out to Elea and Myst.

"Who's she?"

"Her?" Myst followed his eyes, then shrugged. "That's Li. She's new-- well, new-ish. Been here with her brother for a few months now."

"Poor little thing," Elea tutted and frowned, as though she wasn't just barely seven or so years the girl's senior. "Won't talk about home much, either of them. Of course, none of us really do, so it's not all that odd. But the way she used to jump if you accidentally snuck up on her..." Her frown deepened.

"Sweetheart," Myst cut in meaningfully.

Seeming to realize she might have said too much, Elea suddenly flushed and hurried on, "Oh, but she's a sweet thing, isn't she? Has one of the strongest beastspeaking gifts I've ever even heard of, let alone seen, so she mostly works with the animals, y'see."

"Her brother is security," her husband added. "You might have seen him earlier, after that...little incident."

"Well, anyway!" Brushing swiftly passed the topic of Snake's assault, Elea shot Rhyske a smile and said, "If you wanna see everything, we should start somewhere! You'll probably need a few weeks to really absorb it all, but if you're just dying to see a certain act or something, we can start there."

Rhyske stared after Li for a moment, then looked toward Elea and Myst again. He had to admit, he'd never been around any adults like them before. He hadn't really been around any adults, period. At least those who were kind to him. The only interactions he'd had with anyone remotely possibly older than him - in maturity, at least, if not in years - was when he'd been caught stealing, grifting, or otherwise thieving in order to survive and get enough money to feed himself and his mother. He wasn't used to being the center of attention. He wasn't used to any of this, if he had to be truthful. He really wasn't sure what to do first, but he realized that they weren't going to answer prying questions about others. He'd heard the warning in Myst's voice when he stopped Elea from talking more in depth about Li and Li's brother and Rhyske had decided not to pry into anything that might be personal.

He knew how it felt to be talked about behind his back. And he knew that some stories could only be told by those who owned those stories, rather than others who'd heard second hand.

Rhyske gave Elea an unsure-but-game smile and said, "I guess... maybe... we could start at the front and work our way back? I've never been to a circus before. I've never really... been able to do anything like this. I've always..." He trailed off as he looked toward his tent. "I've always taken care of what needs to be taken care of. I don't..." Rhyske fell silent again, feeling embarrassed and inadequate.

There were very few time Rhyske felt like a child, and this was one of them. His dark cheeks darkened even more as he flushed, and he looked away from the couple. "I don't really know what would be best." he admitted.

The two musicians grinned. With an almost delighted laugh, Elea clapped her hands, then reached out to loop her arm through Rhyske's, Myst grabbing her free hand with a chuckle when she glanced at him.

"Well then, let's go to the circus!"

---

It seemed Elea had meant what she said. Starting at the front of the fair grounds as per Rhyske's request, she and her husband led him up and down and around row after row of tents, stopping at almost every one to poke their heads inside and-- if the performers weren't busy-- to introduce them to the newest member of their "odd little family", as Elea called it.

Everyone was friendly, if not exactly the same level of enthusiastic that the two musicians were. The only one who really came close was the medium, Mira, who dropped her "mystical voice" the moment the young elf was introduced as a new member of the carnival to laugh and cock her hip, arching one eyebrow.

"Hey, those eyes have got the look for necromancy," she teased lightly, her own multicolored gaze glinting at him in a playful manner. "If you decide you wanna learn how to work a crowd with seances, just let me know."

The only person who didn't immediately offer Rhyske a smile upon meeting him was another young man who appeared to be of Thanati descent, his face set in a semi-permanent scowl, leaning up against a tree not to far from the entrance to the fair grounds. On closer inspection, it was clear this young man had been the one to drag the hostile customers away from Snake earlier and escort them out.

Elea introduced him as Sun, Li's twin brother. He didn't say much, just offered Rhyske a grunt and a nod.

"And that's about as friendly as he gets," Myst muttered to the boy with a quick, teasing smile.

He stared at Mira with confusion, uncertain what she meant by her comment. Him, a look of necromancy? Sure, he'd gotten strange looks and comments before, but never that. He'd seen himself in the mirror plenty of times, with his night-black skin and his glowing blue eyes, but he'd never thought that he had the look of anything but "strange". He wasn't human, he knew, but he really didn't know what he was. He wasn't like his mother, that was sure.

As they traveled around the circus, Rhyske studied everything with curiosity. He was fascinated by everything, and wanted to know and see everything. There were places he'd like to go back and see, but he kept up with Myst and Elea, knowing that they wouldn't leave him behind or lead him astray.

When they introduced him to the young man who was security, Rhyske stared at Sun with wide eyes, recognizing him despite only as a glimpse out of the corner of his eye at the end of that ruckus he'd caused. He nodded back to Sun with a sheepish expression on his face, unsure if he was trying to apologize or look contrite or both. Instead, Rhyske whispered, "Sorry," and inclined his head to the young man. Then he looked at Myst and offered the man a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to cause so much trouble." Rhyske said, sounding subdued. His voice and demeanor changed then, becoming happier and more upbeat. "And thank you, for all this. Showing me everything, I mean. I did have fun today. I think I can find my way around now, and I think I can explore on my own. But..."

He smiled and looked more like a kid his physical age than his yearly one. "I'd really like to see the show. Can we go?"

"Hey, you don't need to apologize to us," Myst replied with an easy shrug. Sun didn't react, but there seemed to be the barest hint of a softening around his eyes.

Elea seemed much more interested in Rhyske's request though; she practically squealed with delight and clapped her hands, beaming at the young man. "Of course you can see the show! Myst and I have to be setting up soon anyway-- we'll get you all set in the tent first, come on!"

---

The musicians proved better than their word; since they needed to help set up for the show, they and Rhyske were among the earliest patrons under the Big Top, and Elea managed to secure the boy a seat on the front row of the three stacked rows of benches that circled the edges of the tent. Flickering lights bounced nearer to the ceiling, multicolored and cheerful. Elea explained that they were properly called "magelight", but most of the circus just called them "whisps", or sometimes "baubles".

Myst had disappeared briefly, but as Elea was chattering away at Rhyske that he should have a great view of the show from his spot, her husband returned with a small brown pouch in hand.

"Here." He tossed the bag into Rhyske's lap, the unmistakable scent of candied nuts floating through the air. "Still warm. Since it's your first time, you get 'em free, but from here on out Thom's gotta make a living with those." His bright smile mitigated whatever harshness may have been implied by the words.

With a few more words of assurance that they would come and fetch him after the show, Elea and Myst floated away through one of the back entrances of the tent. By now, the crowd inside was growing larger, patrons chattering and laughing, children racing around and ducking through the adult's legs, stealing treats from each other before being wrangled by their parents.

Suddenly, the light in the tent dimmed. The crowd immediately began to settle, their laughter and chatter dying down into excited whispers.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

The lights flickered, then swirled together, spiraling ever faster and higher as their colors flickered rapidly through the spectrum, then finally settled into a silvery white. The light bounced off the interior of the tent, searching, then finally settled into the middle of the ring.

Viserian grinned and tipped his hat to the crowd, who chuckled and clapped politely. "I bid you welcome!" the Ringmaster called, his voice booming almost unnaturally loud through the space. "Welcome to a world of mysticism and mystery unlike anything you have seen before-- welcome to the Cirque du Fantasma!"

Rhyske stared at the candied nuts as if he didn't know what to do with them. After Myst had walked away, he cautiously picked one out of the bag and placed it on his tongue. It was sweet, with just the slightest hint of salt, and he could pick out a few other flavors surrounding the nut. It was a little difficult to chew it, but he managed to break down the nut and shivered with a feeling of happiness that was fleeting in his life. It took much to make Rhyske feel like a kid, and this was quickly becoming that 'much'. He ate the nuts slowly, savoring their flavor and appreciating the skill it took to cook such a wonderful treat.

He froze when the lights flickered and swirled, mesmerized just like everyone else in the tent by the colors. He heard the gasps around him as the lights suddenly solidified into a single bright silver, bouncing here and there until finally settling on the center of the ring.

Rhyske blinked as he saw Viserian standing there, and heard the crowd laugh and clap as the Ringmaster addressed it. A smile bloomed on his face as the Ringmaster's voice boomed out, and Rhyske straightened with anticipation, his eyes on Viserian the entire time. What was the Ringmaster going to do? What was he going to show them?

He wasn't disappointed.

The acts themselves were flawless and entertaining. There were gasps and 'ooh's' and 'ahh's' from the crowd as they watched the acrobats and magicians and animals perform for the onlookers. Rhyske could hear the music from somewhere beyond the shadows, and watched in amazement as the swell of the music was perfectly timed with the act, drawing the crowd ever in and then surprising them and shocking them and making them feel so much with only a small act. Rhyske found himself quite disappointed when the show came to a close, and he'd only finished part of his snack, too enthralled with everything he'd seen to take his eyes off it to make sure he actually slipped his hand into the bag rather than missing it half a dozen times.

As the tent began emptying, Rhyske remained where he was, wondering if Myst and Elea were going to come back and get him. Even if they didn't, he could return to his tent on his own. But as he sat there, he thought about what he'd seen, and he smiled. This was going to be his life now, and he was rather excited about it.

The aftermath of a show was always, above else, loud. All of the performers and vendors gathered near the entrance to the Big Top to bid farewell to their audience-- and a few attempted to get in one last sale before the grounds closed for the evening.

Within the thronging crowd, a slender figure picked her way back into the tent, where Elea and Myst said they had left their charge. Though of the principal performers of the main show, Addie somehow never seemed to have as many people crowding around her after a performance, so it was easier for her than for some others to slip away.

She found Rhyske still perched on his bench, a bag of what had probably held candied nuts in his lap. The acrobat brushed a lock of blue-black hair behind her ear and let her fingertips trail against the edges of her mask, making sure it was still in place.

The last thing she needed was for her Sight to act up around the newcomer again.

"Hey."

She stepped in front of him, folding her arms over her chest and popping out a hip. The sheer, crimson and black scarves that complimented her costume fluttered around her wrists and forearms, one  even wrapped loosely around her neck. Giving Rhyske a rather calculating look up and down, she jerked her head back over her shoulder. "C'mon, meet-and-greets after the show can be a bit overwhelming for newbies. Ellie told me to get you back to your tent."

Rhyske blinked as he looked up at Addie. He was surprised to find her standing before him, considering the reception she'd given him last. He folded down the opening of his bag of candied nuts to close the pouch, then rose from his seat. He didn't miss the look she gave him, and he gave her one in return, uncertain what she wanted. Even though she'd said that she'd been sent by "Ellie" - he assumed that was Elea - Rhyske wasn't sure if Addie was feeling generous enough toward him to do what she'd been asked to do.

But he decided to trust her.

Besides, he needed to apologize for whatever it was he'd done to her.

"Uh, thanks," Rhyske said, looking toward the crowd. "Meet and greets, huh?"

"Yeah." She shrugged, tapping a foot nonchalantly as she waited for him to rise, then turned on her heel and started toward the back of the tent, where the smaller entrance was. "It's what we call it when the performers hang about after a show and say hello to the patrons. Reminds 'em that we're real folks, working a job like anyone else, y'know."

Addie shrugged and glanced back at him over her shoulder, adding blithely, "That's what Da says, anyway."

She was silent for a few more steps, and they had almost reached the small slit in the tent fabric when she suddenly spoke up again, her tone carefully even. "Snake's got some bruises, but a bit of stage makeup was enough to cover it up for the show."

Rhyske was silent for a moment upon hearing the news, a tightness in his chest that he hadn't noticed before suddenly easing. He was glad Snake wasn't terribly hurt because of him. If he had, Rhyske wasn't sure how he'd be able to forgive himself, let alone beg for forgiveness from everyone else in the circus.

"That's..." Rhyske started, paused, and wet his lips before resuming speaking, "that's great. Thanks for telling me. Hey, look, uh, whatever I did to you, I'm sorry. And if you see Snake, can you tell him I'm sorry, too? I... I didn't want him to get hurt. And I didn't mean to slight you, either."

He shifted to move in front of Addie, holding out his hand to her then. "Can we start over?" he asked with a small smile. "Hi, I'm Rhyske. And I guess I'm joining the circus today."

Addie stared at him for several long moments, face inscrutable behind the mask. Her eyes flickered down to his hand and she pursed her lips slightly.

"You...haven't done anything to me," she murmured after several long moments. Then, with a sharp exhale, she reached up to peel the mask away from her face and glanced away. "Snake-- Look, he doesn't blame you, and I mean logically I know it wasn't your fault, but..."

She sighed again and ducked her eyes, frowning as she scuffed a toe against the ground. Without the mask and the ethereal air she took on when performing, she suddenly seemed...like a teenager again. "He's one of my best friends," she mumbled. "And he got hurt. And-- and I was scared."

She took another breath, then suddenly snapped her head up to look into his face, the first time she had done so since she removed the mask. The glittering aura was still there, taking her breath away for a moment, but she forced herself to lock her eyes on his. "But I know it wasn't really you're fault. I'm...sorry."

She took his hand, and tried for the barest hint of a smile, freckles almost glinting in the soft light of the Big Top. "My name is Adelaide, but you can just call me Addie. I'm the Ringmaster's daughter."

Rhyske squeezed Addie's hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Addie."

He released her hand, uncertain of what else to say. She was trying to smile, but it looked almost like it pained her. Like she didn't know how. His own smile softened, and he reached up to scratch at his black cheek, his blue eyes crinkling slightly.

"Look," Rhyske said, his voice soft, "I'm really sorry. I am. If it hadn't been for me, for what I was doing, none of this would've happened." He paused, looking down at the ground between them. "I don't know if I should say if I hadn't been caught or if I hadn't done it in the first place. Probably both." He looked up at her, giving her a helpless little smile. "Or maybe if I had just been a little faster and hadn't stumbled over my own two feet. Who knows, right?"

He looked toward the exit of the tent, his expression changing slightly. She was here to take him home, wasn't she? Well, back to his tent... to his mother. But Rhyske didn't feel like returning just yet, though he knew he had to. He looked at Addie, his expression turning softer. "Well, I guess we'd better get going, huh?"

"Yeah, I...guess we'd better."

She didn't see a reason to acknowledge his apology; she knew he hadn't intended for Snake to get hurt, and though she'd said she was trying not to blame him for her friend's pain she had a feeling if she thought about it too long she was just going to get angry again.

With her mask off, she saw a flicker of...something in the boy's aura when he said they should get moving. She paused, narrowing her eyes at him in concentration. It was difficult for her to read moods, the Sight had its limitations after all, but if she wasn't entirely off-base with her instincts about that little glimmer...

"I mean... Most of us will be having a sort of-- I dunno, an after party, if you'd like to come to that rather than just turning in?" she offered cautiously. She shrugged and added, "I normally don't stay long. Someone always starts a drinking game and it goes for hours. But...I don't know, it can be fun."

Rhyske paused as she mentioned a party. The only parties he'd ever been to had been public ones, where it was easy to blend into a crowd and lift a few wallets or steal some jewelry with a flash of quick fingers. He'd never actually been to a party where he wasn't there to work. He stared at Addie for a moment, uncertain what to say. He knew he needed to get home, but if Addie wasn't going to stay long, then he didn't need to, either.

"Um," he started, his voice uncertain, "well, if you want to go... I could go with you. Just for a little while. I've never been to a party before... but I can't leave my mother alone for too long."

Addie smiled, a little more genuinely this time, and she reached out to take his hand gently, tugging him along after her as she slipped back out of the Big Top and led him back around through the less crowded area of the carnival grounds where the personal tents were clustered.

Eventually, they reached an open space between the last few personal tents and the paddocks where the animals were kept. Clusters of magelight, much like the lights that had opened the show that evening, floated and bobbled their way around the edges of the small clearing. Most of the performers were gathered in clusters, enjoying the leftovers of the fair food that had not been peddled throughout the day, laughing and talking and teasing one another happily.

"Addie!" One of the tumblers raised a hand and grinned when they caught sight of her, beckoning her over. They seemed briefly taken aback when they saw her with Rhyske, but the covered it quickly and shot him a friendly grin. "Mask off already?"

Addie rolled her eyes as she moved toward them, dropping her hand from Rhyske's a little quickly. "What, disappointed?" she quipped softly. "Didn't realize my real face was such a letdown."

The tumbler laughed and ruffled her hair as she drew closer. They appeared to be somewhere in their mid twenties-- though of course appearances were often deceiving in Fantasma-- with sparkling dark eyes and a mop of unruly chestnut hair. They grinned and waved to Rhyske again as the teenagers paused before them. "New kid, yeah? What's the Ringmaster got you doing?"

Rhyske followed Addie quietly, his eyes darting everywhere as he memorized the path and other things that he thought might come in useful as he tried to navigate around the circus's current set up. With Addie to guide him, though, he had no fear of getting lost. It was more for his own use when he was by himself and had to find his own way around.

When he saw the magelights, his blue eyes went wide again, and he found himself utterly fascinated with the glowing spheres. He'd never seen them before, and he thought that they were beautiful and mysterious. He wouldn't have been surprised at all if suddenly tiny faeries came streaking past his face, glowing brightly enough to light up the entire night. He almost reached out to touch one, just to make sure there wasn't a fairy within the little ball of light, but he managed to restrain himself. Not only would it make him look foolish, but if there was a little fairy within the ball of light, it would be extremely rude to grab her out of the air.

At the call of Addie's name in a strange voice, Rhyske looked toward the tumbler that had called out to her. She seemed to make a beeline for them, and as soon as she was close enough, Rhyske found his hand unceremoniously - and quickly - dropped, as if Addie was embarrassed to be caught holding his hand. Since he didn't know what to say or do while Addie talked to the tumbler, he stood there and looked around, curious and nervous at the same time.

It was only when he was addressed directly that Rhyske jumped a little, startled that someone was actually talking to him this time around. His dark cheeks heated a little at being caught not paying attention, and he gave the tumbler a sheepish smile. "Yeah, new kid, and I'm not really sure? I think I'm supposed to be figuring it out. He hasn't exactly told me what I'm going to be doing yet."

"Ah, you're one of those." The tumbler smirked and shook their head with a little chuckle. "Heard you got caught purse-snatching. Ringmaster probably will work with that."

"Tori," Addie cut in, giving them a quick, sharp look. "You're gonna start scaring him or something."

The tumbler, Tori, rolled their eyes and quipped back, "If you haven't managed to scare him off already, nothing will." Before Addie could rebut that, they turned their attention back to Rhyske and asked with a smirk, "What was the first thing she said to you, with the mask off? First time she saw ya."

"Tori," Addie hissed under her breath, her eyes going a little wide and a sudden tightness gripping her chest. Tori didn't know about her Sight-- almost no one did, except her father-- but they were observant and clever, and they were making her nervous.

Rhyske looked back and forth between Addie and the tumbler, Tori, trying to gauge just what exactly was going on here. Clearly Tori was poking fun at Addie, and for a while, she had been playing along good-naturedly. But then they'd mentioned something about the first thing Addie had said to him with her mask off, and Addie had suddenly become defensive. It didn't take a genius to see that Addie didn't want her ability talked about. That she didn't want anyone to know. Tori didn't know, that much was obvious, and if Rhyske was honest, he didn't understand much of it himself. All he knew was that Addie could see things when she looked at people, and she'd mentioned something about him walking in starlight, but that was all she'd said.

Rhyske looked at Addie's face, seeing the tension there. She was afraid. She was nervous. And the cause of that was the tumbler. If Rhyske didn't know any better, he'd say that Tori was fishing for information, just like any professional grifter might do. And Rhyske knew that because he was one himself - or formerly, anyway.

Grinning, Rhyske lifted a hand to scratch at the back of his dark head. "What did she say the first time she saw me? With the mask off? Gods, I can't remember. Something about how funny I looked. Have you ever seen anyone who looks like me before?"

"Oh, he's good." Tori grinned, shooting Addie a quick wink. "Thinks quick on his feet." They glanced sidelong at Rhyske and smirked a bit. "That'll help you here."

Addie herself was quiet, eyes tracing over Rhyske subtly when he gave his response. She wasn't quite sure how she should react, or if she even really wanted to give any reaction at all. Why bother hiding it? You don't know either of us-- why cover for me?

She shook her head and gave Tori a quick, slightly playful glare. "Yeah, yeah, alright. Well, you've met him-- try to be nice while he's here, huh?"

"When am I ever not nice?" Tori gasped, mock-affronted. Addie smirked and shoved their arm, earning a hair ruffle in return, before she stepped back and gave Rhyske a look and a quick nod over her shoulder.

"You wanna meet some of the others?"

"Meet the others?" Rhyske repeated, looking at Addie with slightly wide eyes. He glanced at Tori, but the tumbler had already turned their attention away from him and Addie and toward someone else. Rhyske frowned slightly, then looked at Addie and shrugged. "Sure, why not? I mean, it's probably best I get to know everyone anyway, right?"

He'd probably forget their names, though. Rarely did he remember anyone's name unless they made some kind of lasting impression on him. He was better with faces - and he had to be, considering his former profession - but names had always been his problem. The more he interacted with these people, though, the more he'd be able to put names to faces and remember individual people.

So he quickly caught up to Addie's side, folding his arms over his chest in an almost nonchalant pose. After a moment of quiet, before he and Addie reached the next group, Rhyske said lowly, "I know what it's like to keep secrets. I know what it's like not to want everyone to know them. Maybe you'll tell them one day, maybe you won't. Maybe they'll find out, maybe they won't. But it's none of my business to tell anyone who asks, or anyone who's fishing for information, the secrets that belong to other people. Mine? No big deal. But never anyone else's."

Adelaide simply stared at him for several long moments. Her expression was inscrutable, as if the mask she wore for her performances was still firmly in place after all.

Then, very suddenly, she smiled, and the tiniest hint of something like mischief glinted in her eyes. "So you're willing to just spill your own secrets?" she asked innocently as she turned to weave them further into the crowd of performers. Her tone was blithe and rather innocuous, but there was just the barest hint of a playful, teasing undertone.

Before she could say anything else though, her attention still mostly focused on Rhyske behind her, she smacked into a slight figure who'd been darting through the crowd.

Both young women yelped and staggered back, Addie wide-eyed and stammering apologies while Cheng-Li flinched back and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment in her surprise, as though anticipating some form of attack. Then they seemed to realize just what had happened and they both went still, staring at each other in silence as red rose in their cheeks.

"U-um--!" Addie swallowed and blinked down at her, trying to tell her suddenly erratic heartbeat to just please calm down. "Li, I--! I mean, sorry, that was-- have you met Rhyske?"

Almost desperately, she reached back to grab the newbie's arm and dragged him in front of her, all but using him as a shield as she tried to pull herself together.

Li blinked up him, still looking more than a little nervous, though she forced a polite little smile. "I...don't think we met. But you met Sun, my brother?" she said softly after a moment.

Rhyske lifted his hand in a little wave toward Li, his eyes sliding back and forth between the two girls. He wasn't sure what they were blushing for, and he wasn't sure why Addie was using him like a shield to hide her from sight from Li. An elegant eyebrow rose at that antic, and he pressed his lips into a thin line to keep his thoughts from blurting out into the world. Better to ask something like that in private, where things couldn't be overheard by the wrong people and things wouldn't necessarily be blown so far out of proportion that Rhyske wouldn't be able to show his face anywhere in this circus ever again.

Sighing, he focused on Li and smiled. "No, we haven't met yet, but I did meet your brother. He seems like a nice guy." Rhyske lowered his hand gently, for he'd seen just how Li had flinched when she'd been rammed by Addie. Here was one who feared violence, because violence had been done to her. Or so he assumed. Slowly, he extended his hand, leaving enough space between them for Li to make the decision to take it or not. "It's nice to meet you, Li. I'm Rhyske."

The animal trainer eyed his hand for a moment before her eyes softened just a bit and she reached out to take it. She shook once and quickly withdrew her hand again, but there was a hint of a shy smile flittering around the edges of her lips. "Nice to meet you, Rhyske," she replied quietly.

"Li!"

Both Addie and Li jumped slightly as Sun shouldered his way through the crowd toward his sister. Addie's eyes widened slightly in surprise when she noted that he almost seemed to be smiling as he neared his twin--at least until he caught sight of her and Rhyske, when his expression slammed closed into his customary scowl.

"Oh. Uh, hi." The bouncer pulled up short, one hand gravitating toward the small of Li's back seemingly on a sort of instinct. He nodded briskly to them, but quite clearly wasn't in the mood to be much more friendly than that.

"Hey, Sun," Addie offered a little lamely. Oh boy. She looked from Rhyske to the twins, not sure what she should do or say.

Rhyske stared up at Sun, uncertain on how to respond to his sudden presence. It wasn't that he was unused to having someone just magically appear out of nowhere, but more so that Sun seemed to be overly protective of Li, and the fact that his attitude changed upon seeing people with his sister made Rhyske wonder what had happened to them that made the siblings so... protective. What had happened that made Sun act as though he disliked people being near his sister, and why he scowled so much, like he was trying to be frightening.

Rhyske pushed the thought away for later. It wasn't much of his business anyway. After all, there were things in his past he didn't want to talk about or let anybody know about.

"Hey, Sun," Rhyske said after a moment, smiling. "It's nice to officially meet you. We sort of had a chance meeting earlier, right?" He didn't offer his hand this time. He was pretty sure Sun would just crush it. Rhyske switched his attention to Li then, and his smile brightened a little. "You've got a pretty great brother there, don't you? I'm jealous. I don't have any siblings."

He looked toward Addie then, studying her face a little. She seemed uncertain of how to proceed now that Sun was here. "So, uh, Addie, weren't you going to help me find my way back to my tent? I probably should get back. I ought to check on my mother."

All three of the young circus members seemed to breathe a unanimous and yet somehow entirely separate sigh of relief. Li managed a smile for Rhyske and murmured, "Yes, he's all I've got, really."

Sun took her hand, attempting to hide the motion by shuffling a step closer to her and tucking their joined hands behind her back.

Half a moment later, Addie was nodding briskly and gripping Rhyske's arm to tug him after her into the crowd. "Yes, right. Tent. Let's go. Bye, Li, Sun!" She waved and smiled--far too brightly-- and all but scurried away with Rhyske in tow.

Rhyske quickly matched his pace to Addie's, keeping only a step behind her so he didn't overtake her. He waited until they were out of earshot of Li and Sun before he reached to pull her to a slower pace, his arms folding across his chest as he walked alongside her. He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a minute, debating the sanity of asking the question he was going to ask.

"So, uh," Rhyske started, looking toward the girl beside him, "do you like Li, or something? Like... really like her? Or are you just not good around people? Because that back there... I don't know what that was, but I'm getting the sense that you have a crush on her, or something."

Addie, the well-practiced tumbler, death-defying acrobat whose sense of balance and grace kept her from plummeting to earth on a near nightly basis, promptly tripped over her own feet.

"Wh-wh-wh-what makes you say that?!" she demanded, arms pinwheeling as she tried to catch herself, staring up at Rhyske with wide eyes. Almost before the words were completely out of her mouth she felt her cheeks flushing and dropped her gaze quickly.

Alright, that was maybe the least convincing denial in the history of...ever.

With a sigh, Addie righted her balanced and paused, glancing back over her shoulder toward the laughing, celebrating crowd. She scuffed one foot in the dirt and looked down, biting her lower lip.

"...It's that obvious, huh?"

"I mean... if you're looking for it, it is." Rhyske answered, keeping his voice even. He dropped his arms and scrubbed his fingers through his hair, as if he were stalling for time to try and figure out how to properly answer her. "I've been watching people for as long as I can remember. I've learned how to read expressions, to see things other people might not see, things they don't realize that they do. Everyone wears their emotions on their face, in little movements of their eyes and lips. I had to learn how to read those, to interpret them, in order to survive."

He sighed, long and heavy, uncertain of how to proceed. He didn't like seeing Addie look like someone had kicked her puppy and then made her participate. He never did like seeing anyone harmed by what he'd done or said, which was why he'd always left immediately after he'd stolen from people. Knowing he'd caused grief and seeing it were two different things, at least in his mind. Perhaps not seeing it allowed him to pretend that the grief was short-lived, and that people just moved on. He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I won't tell," he said finally. "I mean, I'm glad for you. You should like someone like that. Everyone deserves to love and be loved in return. I mean... I could be wrong, but I get the sense that she likes you in return. She just doesn't know how to go about telling you, and with her brother seemingly showing up out of nowhere at any hint of her distress, I get the feeling that she's not sure what she should do." He shrugged. "But like I said, I could be wrong."

Rhyske hesitated, then reached out to put a hand on Addie's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze before releasing her and allowing his hands to drop by his sides. "I don't think you should be embarrassed about it. You should be happy."

Whether he thought she should be embarrassed or not, Addie's face was quite red as she continued to stare down at her feet.

"N-no one said anything about love," she muttered, almost petulant. But that seemed to be just about all she was willing to say on the matter, because she shrugged and added in a rather resigned mumble, "You probably don't need to tell anyone; with my luck it'll come out sooner or later."

She huffed and shook her head, then turned abruptly and began striding off through the tents again. "C'mon. You want to get back to your mother, right?"

Rhyske stared at her for a long moment, uncertain what to say. For once, words just wouldn't come to him. He didn't know how to make Addie feel better about the subject of conversation or how to broach a different subject. Thankfully, he was saved from it by her asking about his mother, so he nodded in answer, and followed after her quickly. Soon enough, they were in front of the tent he was sharing with his mother, and Rhyske peeked in quickly to see that his mother had eaten the food and was now sprawled across her bed as if she were a child and not a grown woman. Seeing nothing amiss, Rhyske turned back to Addie.

"Hey," Rhyske said softly, "whether it's like or love, the point is, you still care that much about someone else. And if she likes you back, then you can see where that leads. Maybe you'll just be friends. Maybe you'll be more. But until you take that step to find out for sure, you'll never know, and opportunity might pass you by."

He reached out and set his hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze before dropping his hand back to his side. "I don't know much about relationships or love or anything like that. I've never felt that way about anyone. I've liked people, sure, but not as much as you like Li." Rhyske shrugged, then turned to enter his tent. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow? I have a feeling I'm gonna be put to work doing something." He gave her a bright smile, then disappeared inside his tent, and closed the flap behind him, securing it.

He stood watching his mother for a long moment, then moved to tuck her in properly and settled on his own bed, removing his boots and setting them aside. He stretched out on his back then, staring at the ceiling of the tent. Tomorrow was definitely going to be interesting, and he was sure he would need all the rest he could get.

Addie gave him a quick nod and a murmured farewell as he slipped inside the tent, not bothering to answer his comments on her feelings toward Li.

With a quick, sharp sigh, she turned and headed back to the Ringmaster's tent, more than ready to collapse into bed.

It had been a long day.

---

The circus rose early; by the time dawn was just beginning to creep over the horizon, the performers and workers were already bustling among the tents, calling to each other, laughing as they worked to set up the fairgrounds for the day.

Rhyske woke with a start, unsure why he was suddenly brought into wakefulness. But he had been, so he turned his head to look toward his mother, finding her still asleep. Outside the tent, he could hear movement, and realized that the circus was already up and moving. Stretching, he pushed himself upright, and then rolled out of bed, scratching at his head. He made his bed, then moved to wash his face and hands, looking through his pack for clean clothes. He didn't know what was in store for him today, but he was certain that the Ringmaster would have something for him to do. Even if he had to decide what it was for himself, he had a couple of ideas that might help.

Just as he was finishing with his preparations, his mother woke, and Rhyske spent a little more time getting her adjusted for the day. It was easy to set her up with a plate of food, leftovers from his own nighttime meal, and spend time telling her what he was going to do that day. Whether she heard him or not didn't matter. Even if she wandered, Rhyske was certain the circus would watch out for her.

"Okay?" Rhyske said softly as he moved away from his mother's side. "I'll be back later."

She didn't give a response and he hadn't expected one. Rhyske emerged from his tent and paused out in the early dawn light, wondering if he was supposed to find Addie or the Ringmaster, or if someone was to come and fetch him.

"Hullo there."

One of the circus members had been waiting outside Rhyske and his mother's tent, leaning back against a support pole for the "mess hall" tent. The hustle and bustle of opening the grounds seemed to almost...skate around them, as though they existed just slightly out of sync with the world around them.

At first glance Rhyske might notice that their hair was a pale, sky blue; any other distinctive features in their face was overshadowed by the color, the cut of those locks feathered choppily around their profile and just barely brushing their shoulders.

With a small smile they shrugged away from the support pole, holding out a hand. "Ringmaster sent me to fetch you. I'm Never, nice to meetcha."

At the sound of the voice, Rhyske froze and shifted to locate it. He hadn't been expecting a total stranger to come to get him, but then, he should've known that Addie had her own chores and the Ringmaster couldn't babysit him all the time. He located the speaker by the mess hall tent, and Rhyske frowned a little as he tried to focus on Never's face. After a while, he gave up, and instead focused on Never's hair, frowning as it was a color he'd never seen before. Blue?

"Is that real?" Rhyske asked, pointing to Never's hair. "Or it some kind of dye? I've never seen hair like that before."

He winced as he realized that what he'd just blurted out could come across as incredibly rude. His cheeks darkened and his gaze dropped, and he took Never's hand and shook it as quickly as he could before releasing it. "Sorry. I just... Uh. So. Nice to meet you, too. What does the Ringmaster want me to do today?"

"Real?" Never reached up to pull a lock of hair in front of their face, eyes narrowed slightly as they examined it. They simply stared for a moment, almost frowning, then tsked quietly and shrugged, dropping their hand. "Yeah, I suppose it is. What do you see?"

They tilted their head to the side a bit and took a step toward him, drawing the briefest flash of attention to their bare feet. Of all the details of their attire, that might be the strangest--or even the only one that was really noticeable. The rest of their clothes were a simple linen breeches and tunic, rather shapeless and nondescript.

Without waiting for an answer to their own question, Never suddenly smiled and replied to Rhyske's: "I have absolutely no idea, I'm just supposed to bring you to see him. You ready?"

Rhyske glanced at Never's bare feet for a moment, studying the way their toes were shaped, the way their nails seemed to be just perfect. It seemed so strange. Rhyske blinked, and looked up toward Never's face, again trying to make out their features. After a moment, he gave up, shrugging, and moved to follow Never. "Yeah, I guess I'm ready. I'm not sure there's much to be ready for, though, you know? It's more like... do or do not."

He looked toward Never and smiled a little, though it seemed forced. "Ah, I'm sorry. About your hair. What I said. I've never seen anything like that before in my life. Which is weird, right? Because, I mean, look at me. I've never seen anyone like me before in my life, either." Rhyske winced then, falling silent. He was babbling, and he wasn't sure why.

Never laughed, the sound bright and chiming and just a bit difficult to place. "Take it easy, kid. Circus is full of folks who have never seen anyone like themselves before."

They clapped him on the shoulder companionably, steering him just a bit as they ducked through the organized chaos of the tents. "And you never answered my question." They tilted their head to grin at him playfully and tossed their hair. "What's so strange about my hair. What do you see?"

There was something a bit more than simple curiosity in their tone, but it was faint, subtle.

"Uh, well," Rhyske felt heat suffused his cheeks. He didn't want to insult Never, after all. But they were expecting an answer, so he sucked in a deep breath and shrugged. "Your hair. It's like this blue I've never seen before. Not quite sky blue, but not quite ocean blue either. And it's got some strange highlights in it, like sapphire and turquoise. I've never seen anything like it before."

He quickly shuffled his feet to avoid tripping over a coil of ropes that lay in the path, and pressed a little closer to Never before he slipped in front of them, glancing at the hand on his shoulder like it was about to bite him. He wasn't used to being touched in that way, but he couldn't figure out a polite way to shrug Never's hand off without seeming rude. Of course, that ship had probably already sailed, though Rhyske wasn't sure if Never would take offense to it. So he craned his head back to watch Never's face, trying to see what expression they would be wearing in reaction to his words.

Then he remembered that he couldn't actually see Never's face, which was just weird, but he turned his attention back to the path to avoid being driven into anyone or anyone.

"Blue?" Never smiled, reaching up to play with their hair again and pulling their other hand back from his shoulder at the same time. "Ooohhhh I like that. That's fun, very---very Serenian, don't you think? Oh, watch yourself."

The words were barely out of their mouth when they tapped his shoulders lightly to twist him out of the way of a pair of carnival workers hurrying passed them with a massive wooden pole--one of the two that suspended the high wire in the big top. The touch was feather-light and only lasted a few moments, just long enough to steer them both clear, then they dropped their hands again.

They'd notice how Rhyske reacted to the first touch, and certainly didn't want to make him even more uncomfortable. Poor kid was going to have a difficult enough time just finding his place with the troupe for the first few days, that's just how it always was.

"You get anything to eat?" Never asked as they gestured for him to follow between two more tents, ducking around a cluster of performers carrying props for the show.

"Huh?" Rhyske blinked at the giddiness in Never's voice about his hair being a Serenian color. Rhyske himself had never been to Serendipity, but he knew it existed. "I mean... I guess so."

He followed Never for a little while longer in silence, concentrating on not tripping or getting run over by other circus members running to and fro to set up for the morning or go about their chores. At Never's other question, Rhyske shrugged.

"No, I haven't," Rhyske replied. "I don't usually eat in the mornings. Most of my time is spent taking care of my mom, rather than myself. I'll find food later."

Never drew up short, forcing a performer to sharply step around them with a shouted curse in Sylvan. Never just grinned and replied in kind, telling the young man to watch his step on the high wire if he had such an issue on the ground.

"Well, we'll just have to change that," they said briskly, turning their smile back to Rhyske. "You'll be working hard here--just me, the day goes a lot easier if you've got a full belly in the morning. Come on." They started off again, changing direction slightly, "Viserian won't mind if we're a few minutes late if it's just getting you something to eat."

Rhyske blinked, but hurried to keep up with Never. He wasn't certain if they were taking it upon themselves to disobey Viserian or if they were doing it just for Rhyske's sake. Either way, Rhyske was both thankful and confused, because no one had ever put themselves in danger for him before. Of course, he didn't think Never would be in real danger, but he also thought that there would be some kind of reprimand for not following the Ringmaster's express orders.

Still, his stomach was growling, protesting not being fed, so he wasn't going to argue the point with Never. He just had to trust that they knew what they were doing and follow along.

Never clearly knew their way around the campsite, despite the fact that it had really only been set up the day before; even more than some of the other circus members, they moved with a kind of quick, practiced ease through the tents and practice areas.

They reached a series of smaller food and drink stalls closer to the entrance to the fairgrounds and slowed their pace a bit, looking around. "Alright, so...whatcha want? Something quick and easy, something hot...?" They trailed off, glancing back over their shoulder at Rhyske as they spoke.

Most of the stalls were already up and running, though the fairgrounds wouldn't be open to patrons for another hour or so. It seemed that many of the performers and workers simply ate at the stalls before they began their day, as clusters of them were scattered around the area, most holding food and drink, laughing as they chattered amongst themselves. A few shot Rhyske and Never curious looks, but non approached them. 

Rhyske followed Never around the campsite, amazed that they seemed to know where everything was despite the newness of it all. Rhyske never would've been able to navigate it on his own without some kind of guide, so he was glad Never was with him. And being with them, Rhyske didn't dare allow himself to become distracted by all that there was to see. He was sure he'd have time to explore on his own at some point. After all, he couldn't always rely upon others to help him out.

"Uh," Rhyske stared around at the stalls, watching the people and seeing what was available. He really didn't know how to answer Never's question, because everything looked so good. But something caught his attention then, a stall serving small balls of cake that were bathed in a sweet-smelling syrup, and a bright smile bloomed on his face. He pointed, like a small child would, a bright grin lighting up his face. "That one!"

He didn't wait for Never to follow, instead dodging past them and toward the small group that surrounded the stall. He at least had enough manners to wait his turn, but then Rhyske remembered that he didn't have any coin with which to pay the vendor. More, he wasn't even sure if the food being given out to the circus performers and assistants was free, and he didn't want to embarrass himself, Never, or the vendor. He winced and stepped back out of line, looking slightly dejected. Rhyske returned to Never's side then, giving a small smile. "On second thought, I'm not really that hungry. I can wait until lunch."

"Kid." Never grinned, reached out as though to clap Rhyske's shoulder, then caught themselves and drew their hand back again. With a soft chuckle, they shook their head before cocking it to the side while they looked him up and down. "First of all, no one here should ever be going hungry. No matter the circumstances. Second, you're not gonna get anywhere around here if you're too afraid to make mistakes!"

Their smile softened and they nodded toward the vendors again. "You're worried about coin, right? You shouldn't be. Until everyone in the troupe starts to recognize your face, you'll be with me, or the Ringmaster, or maybe Elea and her husband, and as long as the vendors know you're with the troupe--and it's not working hours--they'll feed you for free."

Never moved toward the small crowd around the stall that Rhyske had been drawn to, eyes flicking over the freshly baked dough as the vendor balled it into servings before dousing it with the syrup. They gestured for Rhyske to follow, adding in a slightly lower tone, "But you could have figured that out yourself if you'd just asked. I know it's scary, and probably a hard idea to get used to, but little mistakes like that aren't life or death here. They just...help you learn. Worst that could have happened is you realize you can't pay, apologize, and move on, right?"

Rhyske blinked as Never talked, uncertain about them. They were definitely older than he was, and yet they weren't quite treating him like a kid, despite the moniker they had called Rhyske by. Rather, it was like Never was treating him like a little sibling, slipping easily into the role of a teacher and trying to guide Rhyske down the right path, the path Rhyske hadn't even thought to walk down because surviving was all he had ever done with his short life. He flushed, feeling his cheeks warm with embarrassment. He averted his gaze from Never and looked at the tops of his boots. Was he feeling ashamed? Perhaps a little. Rhyske hadn't ever really felt ashamed before in his life. He'd felt guilty, which wasn't quite the same thing in his book. It was a strange feeling to be admonished by someone who could be his older sibling when he hadn't even really asked for an older sibling.

Rhyske listened to what Never said about money, but he still wasn't convinced. Sure, it sounded great, and sounded like a good deal, but until he experienced it for himself, he wasn't going to believe it. Still, he didn't stop Never from going over to the stall and followed when he was indicated to. He glanced at Never's face, and like all the times before, he was unable to clearly get a read on their expression. It was like a strange shimmering veil was in front of their face, obscuring their features. But their tone of voice told him everything he needed to know what Never was trying to convey. He dropped his gaze again and thought about his response for a moment.

"I've made plenty of mistakes," Rhyske said finally, quietly, finally raising his gaze. "That's how I ended up here, after all. And ended up with a number of broken bones, cuts, bruises, and other injuries across my entire lifetime." He lifted his shoulders and shrugged. "It isn't like I'm not used to any of it."

Never's lips twitched, a hint of a frown, before their expression smoothed out again.

"I'm sure you have," they murmured softly. "Which is why I'm telling ya it's okay here. I know out in the world mistakes get you hurt, maybe worse--so it's hard to unlearn that caution. But if might do ya some good."

The crowd around them fluctuated slightly, shifting them toward the vendor, and they raised two fingers to indicate they wanted two plates. The man behind the cart grinned and nodded, holding up five fingers in return. Five minute wait.

"How old are you anyway, Rhyske?" Never asked abruptly, stepping to the side to let the gaggle of performers swarm the food cart.

"How old am I?" The question threw Rhyske for a moment. How was he supposed to answer that when he didn't even know the right answer for himself? Based on his physical looks, he seemed to be the same age as Addie, maybe a little older. But he had never counted the years, never had kept track of them, and hadn't bothered, since it had only been him and his mother, and she hadn't exactly been forthcoming about information about the day of his birth. "I... I don't know. Fifteen? Sixteen?" His shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug. "It's not important anyway. It doesn't matter how old I am, right?"

He looked up at Never, frowning slightly. "Why do you want to know, anyway? How old do you think I am?"

"Just makin' conversation, really," Never replied with a shrug. Smiling, they added, "I dunno, you look about that age. You met Addie, right? She doesn't get to spend time with many people around her age, you might be good for her."

They leaned back a bit more heavily on one heel and propped their fists on their hips. "I guess it's not all that important really, but it might change the Ringmaster's plans, depending. We've got jobs around here that he kinda sets an age limit for, y'know?"

They glanced sidelong at him and added with a soft glint to their eyes, "Also...well. I mean, you are a kid, really. You shouldn't have to be so uptight around here."

Rhyske looked up at Never with a suspicious expression for a minute, trying to decide if they were making fun of him or not. Figuring starting a fight over something that really wasn't important was foolish, he just blew out a breath and folded his arms over his chest, looking down at the tops of his boots.

"I mean... I don't know when I was born. Just that... one day I was in the world. And one day I began to understand things." He fell silent for a moment. "And then one day I was the one taking care of me and my mother. It wasn't like I actually got to be a kid, you know? I don't remember a moment when I wasn't trying to survive to the next day. When I was actually able to play and have friends."

Really, Rhyske didn't know what it was like to be a kid anyway. His childhood had been trying to survive from one place to the next, taking care of his mother, and trying to survive in a world that sought to end him. Even his mother had had moments where she'd tried to kill him, screaming incoherently as she tried to choke the life out of him. He'd survived that, barely, somehow. And though he could have left her, though he could have struck out on his own and survived, something kept him by her side. He didn't know what it was. Love, maybe. Obligation? He didn't know. Perhaps he was just afraid to be alone.

He sighed again and looked up at Never through the black bangs of his hair. "And I don't know what you mean about being uptight. I'm just... being me."

"See, that's the thing." Never cocked their head at him, eyes soft but mouth a tight line. "I don't think you are. I don't think you even know who you is, kiddo."

There was something in their voice that was almost...familiar. As though they were speaking from experience more than anything else. They kept their voice low so the bustling performers around them wouldn't overhear, but every word was crisp and clear. "I think you've spent your whole life surviving, and you never had the chance to figure out who you actually are. So you just had to be what everyone around you wanted you to be, for your own sake and for theirs."

"Hey, Nev! Soup's on!"

They turned to grin at the cake vendor, taking the offered portions with a wink and a chirped, "Thanks, Caz!"

Shoving one of the snacks into Rhyske's hands, Never turned and started leading him back through the maze of vendors toward the Big Top. Speaking softly again, they murmured, "Take it from someone who's been there, kid--this is a really good place to figure out exactly who you are."

Rhyske stared at Never for a long while, before his cheeks flushed and he looked down at the food in his hands. They looked good. They smelled sweet and fresh, and there was still steam lifting off the surface of the cakes from the dark syrup that had been drizzled atop them. He took a tentative bite and chewed, swallowing quickly as the heat burned the roof of his mouth and his tongue. They were delicious! Rhyske blew on the cakes as he followed Never toward the Big Top, his eyes darting around to the different vendors, taking in all the sights. Most were food vendors, selling their treats to the circus performers or workers, but there were a few setting up gaming booths and tables, and setting out their prizes, arranging them in certain configurations that meant nothing to Rhyske but clearly meant something to the owners of those stands.

Never sounded so sure of themself, speaking their words with unfathomable certainty. Rhyske himself wasn't so sure. He'd been alive for a number of years, exactly how many he didn't know because he didn't keep count, and his experiences had shown him exactly what he could and couldn't do. There were things he simply wasn't capable of, and it wasn't because he was too young or too inexperienced or too weak. He just simply wasn't able to do anything about what he wasn't able to do. And he accepted that. But so long as he was alive, so long as he kept learning about his boundaries and what he could and couldn't bend, break, or cross, then Rhyske felt his existence was worth something, even if no one else valued him. And really, he'd never come across anyone who valued him. At least, not beyond seeing him as a way to advance their own agenda or to see what kind of work they could get out of him without needing to split any kind of reward with him.

Of course, it wasn't like Rhyske himself was a saint. He used people just as much as he was used. But he did his best not to exploit those weaker than himself, and he did his best not to steal from those who didn't have enough to eat.
Now, though, he didn't have to worry about any of that. So...

Maybe Never was right.

That didn't mean Rhyske believed him, though. After all, he'd only been part of this circus for a day, and this was his first real day of work. Things could change. The veil of promises could very quickly be ripped out from before his eyes and the truth could rear its ugly head.

Rhyske shook his head and took another bite of the cake, chewing slowly so all the flavors of the food washed over his tongue. There was no point in worry about what could be until it was right in front of his face. No sense in worrying about what hadn't happened yet. When it did happen, he'd deal with it then, but right now, Rhyske decided to focus on stuffing his face with the food Never had been nice enough to get him.

"Does anyone ever really figure out who they really are?" Rhyske asked Never once he'd swallowed his latest and last bite. He licked the syrup from his fingers and jogged to keep up with the other's longer legs. ...Did they really have longer legs? Rhyske wasn't sure, but he definitely had to lengthen his own stride to keep up. "I mean, no one's the same today as they were yesterday."

Never snorted quietly, pausing a moment to let him catch up before continuing on their way toward the Big Top. "Kid, you have no idea," they muttered under their breath.

They reached the open entrance to the Big Top quickly enough, exchanging nods and smiles and a few shouted greetings with the vendors and other performers as the circus finished up most of their morning preparations. Once they'd reached the massive tent they slowed a bit, taking a quick look around the dimmer interior, before nodding to themselves and beckoning for Rhyske to come with them inside.

A little over a dozen performers milled about inside the tent itself, warming up, chatting, cleaning and arranging the clusters of seats and stands so that they were ready for the show that evening. For a moment, Adelaide could be seen dusting chalk over her palms and the soles of her feet, then she backed up a few paces before running forward and springing into a graceful front handspring. Elea and Myst were with a group of other musicians, seemingly tuning and warming up their instruments while they chattered and laughed among themselves.

The Ringmaster stood in the center of the organized chaos, calling orders and jokes in equal measure, pausing every so often to talk with a circus member who approached with a question or update, then returning to crafting witchlights between his palms and sending them out to bob around the top of the tent or examining props and set pieces to make sure everything was in working order.

"Ah, Rhyske!" Viserian called before he'd even turned to look at them, though when he did there was a smile on his face. Despite the hectic manner he'd been darting around the tent, taking care of things, he was still dressed impeccably: there wasn't so much as a speck of dust on his neatly tailored coat. "Excellent, you're here. I trust you had a pleasant night?" Without actually waiting for him to respond, he looked to Never and dipped his head to them slightly. "Thanks for bringing him here. You both get something to eat?"

"Sir, yes, sir." Never smiled crookedly and gave him a jaunty little mock salute. Their eyes flickered around the tent before lighting on a middle aged woman with gently pointed ears and an eye patch who was juggling a set of brightly painted pins--the same woman Viserian raised a hand and beckoned with a call of, "Dorothea! Could I borrow you a moment?"

"Sure, boss!" The woman tossed her last pin, caught it neatly under an arm, and strode toward them, looking around at the group curiously. "Whatcha need?"

"Have you met our newest talent?" The Ringmaster gestured toward Rhyske. Never took that as their cue to leave, starting to back away subtly, but not before they gave Rhyske a light, affectionate nudge with their shoulder as they passed.

To Rhyske, Viserian added, "This here is Dorothea, one of our best sleight-of-hand performers. Been here almost as long as I have."

Dorothea snorted. "Well that's a bald-faced lie," she chuckled. "No one's done anything long as you have, Vis."

The Ringmaster smirked. "I did say almost."

Rhyske blinked, looking between Viserian and the woman, Dorothea. He felt the nudge against his shoulder from Never, and gave them a quick nod and a soft thanks. Although, if he had to admit it, he thought he'd be more comfortable if Never stuck around. But it wasn't Never's job to babysit him, only take him from point A to point B, and now that he'd been delivered to Viserian as ordered, Never's job was complete. But he still didn't know exactly what Viserian wanted him to do, or why he'd had Never bring Rhyske here.

Looking up at Dorothea, Rhyske wondered if he offered his hand, would it come back with all his fingers attached to the end of it. He didn't know why Viserian had brought her over, except for the fact that she was the best at slight of hand, which was something that Rhyske himself was good at. Was he supposed to become her apprentice or something? Was Viserian going to suggest that Dorothea teach him?

Well, there was one way to find out, really.

"Hi," Rhsyke said, lifting his hand in a little wave as he gave Dorothea a small smile. "I guess, I'm the new talent. I'm Rhyske. It's nice to meet you."

Dorothea grinned at him crookedly and returned his wave by reaching out to take his hand and give it a firm shake. "Nice to meet ya too, lad." She looked to Viserian, quirking an eyebrow. "Lemme guess: you expect me to teach him?"

The Ringmaster shrugged and grinned. "If you're both amiable to the idea. You know me, Thea, I'm not gonna force anyone into anything. But, I don't expect you'll actually have to teach him all that much. He seems like he knows more than just the basics, you just have to show him how to use it to wow the crowd."

"Really?" Dorothea looked Rhyske up and down, considering. She bent to place her juggling pins on the ground, eyes skin on the young man. "Hmm... Well, let's start with you tellin' me what you can do then. How about--"

Someone screamed, and all attention under the Big Top suddenly wrenched around toward the high-wire.

"ADDIE!"

---

Adelaide had never really liked working the tightrope all that much. She preferred the trapeze, which really was a very different skill set. But Da has asked her to give it a try after her warm-ups that morning, and she supposed it wasn't the worst idea. She could walk the thing fine, but anything much more advanced than that was about a fifty-fifty shot--if she could even learn one or two tricks before they moved locations again, she might be able to work a new angle into her act.

Besides, it wasn't that high. Not really. As high as the trapeze, and she did that every night. Plus she had the net; sure, she might end up with some bruises, but there were plenty of healers in the troupe that she could go to about that.

Brushing her hair back behind her ear with one hand and gripping the railing of her platform with the other, she glanced down and swallowed thickly. Alright, even if she did screw up, it's not like there was anyone here who would laugh at her. Snake, who'd recovered enough to sit in on morning practice, might tease her a bit, but she knew he always meant well. Not a big enough crowd for her to worry about really anything else, right?

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out onto the wire, bottom lip clamped firmly between her teeth. She just had to do it. One cartwheel, that's all she was going for today. No second guess, Addie, just go for it.

Her eyes flicked down again as she raised her arms, back arching in a graceful curve. She started to pitch herself forward, and the moment she did she thought she saw...

Wait. Who was that?

A stranger, someone she didn't recognize, cloaked and sort of lurking in the shadows under the tent. But that--that was impossible. Wasn't it? No one but the troupe should be here, why on earth--

He was gone.

As she tried to fully process what she'd Seen, her hands fell to the rope, gripping as she followed through with the momentum and kicked her legs up to complete the cartwheel.

The rope snapped.

---

It was Addie who screamed, who drew everyone's attention as she plummeted from the broken tightrope toward the safety net stretched out below it.

It was the Ringmaster who shouted her name, already running as her body hit the net and it gave way.

Adelaide hit the ground with a sort of sickening finality and a CRACK that almost seemed to echo, even in the tent.

The scream rang in Rhyske's ears.

Addie's name, being yelled over and over and over again.

It really wasn't being screamed over and over again, just echoing inside his ears. Addie...! Addie...! Addie...!

Rhyske didn't see what actually had happened. One minute, he was talking with Dorothea and Viserian, and the next, Viserian was bolting toward the other end of the big tent, and Dorothea was frozen to her spot, and Rhyske was confused as all hell. And then, seconds later, he saw her. Addie. She was falling, falling far too fast for anyone to stop, far too fast to be caught. He saw a snapped swinging rope. He saw a flurry of activity as the tent burst into movement so chaotic Rhyske felt that he was a rock standing in a turbulent sea, the waves crashing around him without him even noticing. And then...

And then...

He saw Addie's body hit the floor with bone-breaking force. He saw her crumple like a dropped towel, her body almost crunching in on itself as she landed. It was like watching a dream - everything was happening so slow, with so much clarity, that Rhyske thought he actually saw Addie's body crumple in on itself when she hit the ground, that he thought he saw her bones shattering with the impact, almost accordion-like as she fell flat to the floor. Then his view of her was cut off as a crowd formed around her and Viserian.

But, somehow, he could see Addie's blood pooling on the ground beneath her.

His body was moving before he'd even told it to. He didn't even register picking up speed until he was running, his hearts hammering in his chest. He felt cold all over, as if he'd taken a bath in icy river water. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't be dead! She couldn't!

"Addie!" Rhyske cried, though his voice was drowned out by all the other voices crying and screaming and asking questions. "Add-!"

His shoulder hit something hard and he spun to one side, his entire world suddenly upending from the force of the contact. His eyes turned upwards even as his backside hit the floor, and he stared at the tall man dressed entirely in black that had stepped into his path. The man looked down at him, his black eyes staring at Rhyske through long black hair. He stood with his hands in his pants pockets, completely nonchalant, as if Rhyske meant nothing to him. As if the impact had meant nothing to him. Rhyske stared at that pale face and those black, black, soulless eyes, and a shiver ran through him.

Then the crowd shifted, moving like a wave on the ocean, and Rhyske's view of the man. Rhyske pushed himself to his feet, but by the time he was able to look around for the man, he'd vanished. Sucking in deep breath, Rhyske took an uncertain step backwards and scanned the crowd, looking for the man he'd run into. Where had he gone? Who was he? Sure, Rhyske didn't know everyone in the circus, but he was certain if the man had been someone important, Viserian would've introduced him. Wouldn't he?

Rhyske shook his head. It didn't matter. What mattered was his friend.

Pushing the thought and the matter of the strange man out of his mind, Rhyske pushed his way through the crowd until he was at the front, staring down at the body of Addie and of the Ringmaster, bent over her, his hands hovering over her broken frame. Rhyske knelt by Addie's head on the other side of Viserian, and his hands curled into fists against his knees.

"Addie..." Rhyske whispered. "Addie, hold on... please..."

She was breathing. Barely, but she was breathing.

"The healers, get the healers!"

"Oh gods, Addie..."

"What happened?!"

"Did anyone see--?"

"Back up, give them room!"

Viserian didn't seem to notice the chaos around them as he knelt over his daughter's body, hands hovering just over her chest, eyes shut tight and jaw clenched in tense concentration. A faint, pulsing lavender glow spilled from his palms and washed over the girl's body.

It wasn't healing magic, unfortunately that had never been one of the Ringmaster's gifts, but it should keep her on this side of the Veil, lock her in a sort of stasis until...until...

Viserian put one hand firmly over his mouth, eyes locked on Adelaide's face as the magic settled over her like a second skin and the faint, jerky rise and fall of her chest stilled, a choking breath caught in her throat. That was alright, that was what was supposed to happen, she wasn't dead, she wasn't dead...

The crowd that had gathered around them was quiet now, every one of them either staring at Addie or her father, horror and grief and panic etched on their faces.

Not a single one of them had ever seen the Ringmaster weep before.

Slowly, out of the crowd, a lanky, angled figure moved forward, then knelt beside Viserian, grasping his shoulder tightly. "They can still help her," Snake whispered, his voice a low rasp. He wasn't--he couldn't look at her, couldn't see her like this. "You've got her frozen, right? The healers can still help..."

Viserian nodded slowly, eyes still on his daughter's face. He hardly seemed to notice the presence of the others around him, attention entirely fixated on Addie.

Then, abruptly, his head jerked up and his eyes snapped to Rhyske's, as though he'd been looking for him, waiting for him. "You," he whispered roughly, almost desperately. "You. I need--"

The healers arrived before he could finish. Elea had run to fetch them, and she was panting as she raced into the tent behind two women and a man, all of whom wore a badge with an embroidered feverfew leaf stitched onto their clothing. The young woman was clearly sobbing, though she managed to keep the sound muffled against her husband's shoulder as Myst suddenly appeared at her side and drew her into his chest, pressing his cheek to her hair with his eyes tight shut.

Whatever Viserian had been going to say to the young elf was forgotten as the healers ordered the crowd back, one of the women and the man kneeling to either side of Addie's body while the other woman ordered that someone bring a stretcher, saying something about Viserian's stasis spell allowing them to move Addie to the healers' tent.

In the sudden flurry of movement, the crowd began to break up, just about everyone wanting to help but no one sure how.

"Kid." A pale hand clamped down on Rhyske's shoulder. Snake loomed over him, expression ragged, and jerked his head to the entrance of the tent. "C'mon. We're gonna take a walk, okay?"

"B-but... but Addie..." Rhyske didn't look toward Snake when the man loomed over him, his gaze still on Addie - or at least her hidden form behind the healers and the Ringmaster. He couldn't see her, but he couldn't get the image of her broken and bloody on the ground out of his head. He couldn't stop seeing her broken bones, the light fading from her eyes, the way her mouth was slightly open, as if still in the midst of her scream. Finally, Rhyske slowly turned his head toward Snake, uncertain of his own expression. Was it shock? Fear? He didn't know. He didn't know what he himself was feeling in that moment. He couldn't process it. "Is she...?"

He couldn't finish his sentence.

Rhyske was no stranger to death. He'd seen it plenty growing up. Whether it was the beggar beside him starving, the orphan freezing in the cold, or someone who was the victim of an unfortunate fate, Rhyske had seen death. But it had never affected him. It had never bothered him, because he'd had no attachment to those people. They were just nameless faces in the crowd, people he'd climbed over just so he could survive. So his mother could survive. They didn't mean anything.

But Addie... Addie was known to him. He knew her. Not very well - they couldn't even really call themselves friends, after all, although they had spent a good deal of time together since his arrival here - but she wasn't a nameless face. She was Addie.

His vision blurred as he stared at Snake's face, the pale man's visage wobbling as the tears rose and began to fall. Rhyske lifted his fingers to his face as if he couldn't quite believe he was crying, staring at Snake as if the man had all the answers he was looking for. Rhyske didn't know what to say to Snake to get the man to talk. Really, all he could do was let the man steer him out of the big tent and away from the crowd.

His feet felt leaden. His hearts felt heavy, beating strangely within his chest. His skin was both cold and hot. Rhyske wrapped his arms around himself and let his head fall forward, using his hair as a shield to keep anyone from seeing his face. But he knew Snake could feel the shaking of his shoulders, could feel the tenseness of his body, and he knew that sooner or later, the silence between them would be broken. Rhyske just didn't know when that would happen.

So he plodded along quietly, allowing Snake to direct him wherever the man wanted him to go, and Rhyske was blind to the rest of the world, seeing the path under his boots but nothing else.

Snake swallowed thickly at the stammered, unfinished question, closing his eyes for a moment and shaking his head--not in answer, almost in denial.

"Just...c'mon," the contortionist muttered softly, his hand on Rhyske's shoulder moving so he had an arm wrapped around the teenager's shoulders instead as he steered him away from the chaos surrounding Addie and her father, back toward the entrance of the tent.

A few of the others seemed to have realized what he had--that crowding around and wailing wasn't going to do anyone any good. Those who could help were doing so, and those that couldn't began to drift away. Never alone, they walked in pairs or small groups, most clinging to each other, some crying quietly while others seemed to be trapped in a state of shock.

Snake ignored them, leading Rhyske out of the Big Top and back through the grounds, curving around the personal tents and into the trees that surrounded their campsite, where he finally stopped. He was shaking slightly, though he didn't realize it, and lifted one hand to drag down over his face.

"She's not dead," he finally managed to rasp out, voice even rougher than normal, red-gold eyes over bright. He dropped his gaze down to Rhyske and swallowed again. His hand had slipped back to rest lightly on the boy's shoulder, almost as though he didn't quite know what else to do with it.

He shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, kid, I don't... I don't know what to do."

His back fetched up against the rough bark of a tree and it was only then that he realized he'd sort of slumped backward, his body just refusing to hold him upright anymore. Snake tipped his head back, eyes closed and jaw tight, one hand curled into a fist by his side while the other still rested lightly, hesitantly on Rhsyke's shoulder.

Without thinking he pulled the kid in against his side, the same "big brother" instincts that had so endeared him to Addie--and she to him--rising up despite his apparent lack of attention to it. Arm around Rhyske's shoulders again in a sort of half-hug, he forced himself not to just sink down onto the grass and break down.

Vaguely, Snake realized that he'd brought the kid out here as much for his own sake as for Rhsyke's. The newcomer needed guidance, and he needed someone counting on him so he didn't just fall apart. "I don't know what to do," he repeated quietly, staring blindly up through the branches above them.

Rhsyke didn't seem to be aware of Snake's sudden disappearance at his side. Rather, the boy was staring off into some distance, tears still breaking in his eyes and trailing down his face. By the time he realized Snake was no longer beside him, Snake had grabbed hold of his shoulder and had pulled him against him, and he felt the man shaking as he cried. Together they sank down and sat in the grass and Rhyske just listened to Snake cry.

It was like Rhyske's mind was blank. Like he couldn't form a thought at all. He couldn't think, couldn't do more than sit there beside Snake, in the comfort of the man's embrace, and stare. He couldn't even respond to Snake's whimpered words, because he couldn't even seem to form his own. What could he possibly say to Snake? It wasn't like Rhsyke had the answers. He didn't know what to do, either. He'd barely been at the circus for forty-eight hours, and he'd only just begun to learn what he was supposed to do here. And now, in that short span, he was adrift again, lost amid the turbulent sea of emotions that filled the air and the circus. He couldn't make sense of his own feelings. Addie had been so nice to him, even when she'd been acting like a little brat, and had made him feel welcome. She'd been his first friend, aside from Snake. His only friend, aside from Snake.

And now... now she was gone. Or would be gone.

What could the healers do for her, really? What could they do for her except keep her comfortable and ease her passing? Rhyske wasn't stupid. He knew what those kinds of injuries meant. What the loss of that much blood meant. The fact that Addie was barely hanging on by a thread was a testament to her determination, but even if she came back from this, somehow, by a miracle, she'd never be the same. Would she even still be Addie? What if she survived but couldn't talk? Couldn't communicate? What if she no longer had the use of her legs? Her arms? Her entire body? What if she was just stuck? What if she really wasn't even Addie anymore?

Rhyske closed his eyes and buried his face against Snake's shoulder.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been held like this. Sure, the circumstances weren't the best, and he supposed thinking weird thoughts during times like this were normal. Were they? He didn't know. Didn't much care. Snake's arm was around him, hugging him and comforting him as much as holding on tight to him for the man's own need and comfort. That was the only thing that mattered. Right? Again, Rhyske didn't know. And what did it matter, anyway? There was a miasma of sorrow hanging over the entire area, and Rhyske was sure there were plenty of other people seeking comfort in whatever way they could, with whomever they could. He doubted anyone would sleep tonight. He doubted anyone would do anything until they knew for sure which way Addie would go.

Finally, Rhyske opened his eyes and shifted slightly away from Snake. He didn't shrug the man's arm off his shoulder, but rather shifted so he was sitting against the tree himself, rather than sitting against Snake. The position was a familiar one for Rhyske, but under different circumstances. The person with their arm around his shoulder at that time had been his mother. And it had been raining. And he had been trying to find them shelter from a quickly forming rainstorm. Two different instances, two different meanings behind the hold, but Rhyske was sure the feelings shared between the two moments were similar.

He picked a blade of grass and held it between both his thumbs. Then he brought his thumbs and the blade of grass between them to his lips and blew, creating a high-pitched warbling noise. He wasn't sure why he was doing this, but it was something he remembered someone teaching him to do when he was unsure about his path and which direction he should go. When he couldn't think of anything else to do or say. Over and over, Rhyske blew air through the small hole his thumbs created, making the blade of grass vibrate and fill the air with the warbling notes.

Then he lowered his hands slightly, and he stared at the sky. "She'll be okay." he said, his voice barely higher than a whisper. "She'll be just fine. She's got the Ringmaster with her, and all the healers. And anyone else who can help. They'll help her. They'll fix her."

If he said it enough, maybe it would come true. Rhyske had never prayed before, had never believed in gods or anything of a higher power, but he found that he was more inclined to do so now than he ever had been before.

"Alright, kid." Snake tightened his arm around the boy's shoulders slightly when Rhyske turned his face into his shoulder. "I've got ya. It's--it's okay."

It wasn't, but that was what he was supposed to say, right?

He sighed quietly and let his arm drop a bit when the boy leaned forward to pluck a blade of grass, still keeping a comforting weight around his shoulders but not holding him quite so tightly anymore. He dragged his other hand down his face again, hopefully obscuring the few tears he hadn't been able to keep back.

Despite himself, despite everything, a tiny smile twitched at one corner of his lips when he heard Rhyske blow that warbling note along the blade of grass. The sound seemed to hang in the air around them, heavier than it should be, though that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Snake just listened while the boy spoke. "Yeah," he murmured a few moments after Rhyske went silent again. "Yeah, they will. It'll...all be fine."

More silence.

He wasn't actually entirely sure how long he just sat there, his arm now loosely around Rhyske's side, still holding the kid against him in a strange and rather useless attempt at protection--as though it was going to make any difference.

"...Think you're ready to head back?" he finally asked into the deafening quiet. "You, ah...should you tell your mother? We won't have a show tonight, we might close the grounds entirely..."

Rhyske wasn't sure what to say to Snake as the man spoke, or as the man hugged him, or as they just sat there in silence. His eyes shifted to the pale hand that was loosely wrapped around his side, studying the way Snake's fingers were slightly curled, the way his thumb just kinda hung there, not doing anything. He studied the way the man's arm curled just slightly around the elbow, not quite tense but not quite relaxed, either. Rhyske figured there was some significance in the hold, but it was lost on him. He'd never really been held since he'd been able to walk on his own. His mother hadn't really given him that sort of affection once he'd been able to take care of himself. Of course, she'd deteriorated rapidly as he'd grown, so he supposed her lack of affection stemmed from that. Not that it really mattered. She'd given him enough to get him to this point, and now it was his turn to repay it.

"Huh?" Rhyske asked absently, having heard Snake's voice but not comprehending the words that had been said. "Oh, yeah, I guess."

The words were meant to answer both of Snake's questions. He doubted that his mother would really care one way or another. It depended on what state she was in. If she was lucid, she might actually have an opinion. If she was insensate, then it really wouldn't matter what Rhyske told her, because it would simply fall on deaf ears.

After a minute, Rhyske pushed himself to his feet and rose, dropping the blade of grass back to the earth. He watched it flutter down, and then land upon the ground, nestling its way between its surviving siblings. He scrubbed at his face and then turned his attention to the sky, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, let's go back."

"Right then." Snake pushed himself to his feet, the arm around Rhyske pulling him up as well, but once the boy was standing he drew his arm back again. Grief could affect people in strange ways, make them prickly where they'd been soft or open them up to contact they wouldn't normally welcome. Though the affection hadn't seemed to bother Rhyske initially, he didn't want to extend the contact without the boy's permission, now that they both seemed to be calming somewhat.

"I'll walk you back," he rumbled, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his leather breeches, and gave a little jerk of his head to indicate that Rhyske should follow as he started back through the trees.

He walked in silence, at least until they reached the edge of the trees--when he suddenly drew up short, his head jerking up almost like a started woodland creature, eyes squinting against the sudden invasion of sunlight unfiltered by forest canopy.

"Nev."

Never pushed themselves away from the slender trunk they'd been leaning against, tilting their head slightly at both Snake and Rhyske. "...Saw you head this way," they murmured eventually. "Wasn't sure if..."

Snake nodded, a small, tight smile twitching at his lips, or at least an approximation of one. His eyes skated over Never's lithe form, lingering a moment on the dark, tousled hair. Had it always been that dark to him? "We're...doing alright," he muttered, glancing sidelong at Rhyske as though waiting for the kid to confirm or deny the assertion.