As Hellga slips into a serene slumber, I sit vigilant over her for some time yet. Teuila eyes me with worry, but I’m alright. Despite my desire to self-recriminate, and my normal depressive, self-defeatist attitudes, we made it in time. Hellga is going to be okay. Te flashes me a proud half-smile and nods understandingly. I still lament that Hellga thought it was a good idea to try to kill Frannie Derbrightmine, on behalf of keeping her family from ending up on the losing side of an inter-family cold-war, but, well, hm. She smoothly struck home her convictions when she admitted she was doing it for her family. That’s a sentiment that I’m all too familiar with. Would I kill to protect my family? Yes. I already have. Many, many people.
I’ve saved people too. Even enemies, threats to my family. I need to remember that. I need to not focus on and wallow in the shame of the lives I’ve taken. I often say that violence seems to be my first and only resort, but it’s not. I try to offer peace, and mercy. It really is up to everyone else how the Shellcracker family regards them. We just want to live peaceful, idyllic days, together, in harmony with anyone that’s interested. If you threaten that peace though? Woe betide unto you and yours. I know, I know, dramatic much Reggie? I’ve had a habit of that my entire life, err, lives I guess. Teuila’s chuckling as she rides my thought train, so I flash her a derpy smile before flicking my head towards Hellga.
Teuila nods in response to my gesture. We haven’t had a chance to ask Hellga if she consents to traveling with us yet, but we’ll drop her off anywhere that she wants, if she wants. Te carefully hoists Hellga, bedroll and all, attempting to not jostle her. As Teuila walks Hellga to the carriage, I glance around at The Gap once more from outside the carriage. It definitely has a far gloomier, far more foreboding air. There’s something off. I can sense it. It’s not just Hellga’s tale that basically confirms our suspicions of draconic activity hereabouts. No, there’s more. I scratch my chin in puzzlement. How much more is going on on Rayileklia? Obviously there’s entire nations that we’ve never been to. There might be whole other continents. I should have asked the Sisters for more generalized information. They probably know every last bit of geography of the world.
Hm, I wonder if I can scry on their compound. I know I could scry on the valley just outside their compound. I’d rather not upset them by snooping around, but I wonder if I could circuitously avail myself of their bubble room, by scrying on that room, and gazing through the bubbles from here. Hm, I wouldn’t gain much out of doing so even if I could. I wouldn’t be able to turn the pages in the books. At most, I’d see people’s desks and dressers and library shelves. Maybe the occasional currently open page of a diary or something. Perhaps, if exceedingly lucky, an atlas. I’d rather not risk pissing off the incredibly powerful, out-of-phase oracle ladies, on the off chance I might be able to peruse a map.
I wonder if they’d be pissed off if I try to scry on the room where I lost Dawn as she crumbled to dust in my arms. Surely they would understand that it would only be out of sentimentality, and not malice. Still, better not risk it. Oh Dawn, my poor, dear friend. We’ll keep moving. I’ll try to honor your wishes, requests, and memory. I agonizingly slowly work my way back towards the carriage as well.
It seems Teuila has positioned Hellga and Tiktik such that they’re each tucked into the rear seat of the carriage, swaddled and unable to really fall out of that position. That means she and I are free to cuddle in the front seat. I flash her a sly smirk, an expression that she returns with a twinkle in her eye. I telepathically ask the horses to resume our journey after refreshing their duration. It’s better not to let too much time go by without progressing towards our goals.
After all, it’s something like August nineteenth. I’ve got about two weeks to six weeks of life left, depending on just how careful I am with Kozzurth’s Dragonforce, so I can’t really afford to spend any time not traveling. Even if I’d like to wait til Hellga is conscious, to ask her if she wants to come along, before moving. I’ve got to utilize as much of the time I have left as possible.
In preparation for posibly having to cast more spells and use more mana, I attempt to engage my natural changeling gift, in rapid, minor ways. Bushier, or thinner eyebrows, bulkier or frailer biceps, pudgier, or more slender abdomen, various increases and decreases in the length of my digits. Teuila snuggles up across my lap, and pulls out one of the many martial-enhancement tomes that she can try to gain benefits from.
While reading, Teuila mumbles, “While you were out, I snagged a bunch of Berri’s stock, some of it into your handysack bag thingy, a bunch to my inventory. I gave them a bunch of the gems too. Not just Berri, but like, everyone in The Brook, since we don’t know how and when they’ll get to rebuild, but we do know they’ll probably need money to set up. I snagged as much as I could from the whole town. If we end up leading them to whatever place they settle in, we can drop off a bunch of it, if not, well, it doesn’t hurt to have some more supplies in my inventory.”
I smile down at Teuila, who can’t be using more than half her vision to read, as she’s got the right side of her face smooshed up against my chest. Using changeling shape-changing, I wiggle my nose towards her, testing how much she can see, which earns me a soft giggle. I suppose that doesn’t prove much, since she can just be riding along my internal monologue.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Te teases, “Yup! My gooberific dink. My Air. Sigh.” After saying which, she sighs contentedly and rests her book on her torso while nuzzling my chest.
I steal a glance over towards Tiktik and Hellga, who both, thankfully, appear to be breathing gently, without pain. Since I don’t really feel up to anything else, I shift positions, dragging Teuila atop me so that we can snuggle while laying together. My Wings. My everything. I draw a shuddered breath before sighing, smiling wide to my eyes. I let my eyes droop more and more frequently. I know one of us should probably remain vigilant, but I just want this peaceful, cuddlesome bit of rest to last forever. I drift into and out of sleep, my limbs entwined with Teuila’s. She murmurs softly in pleasure as she holds me tightly, and I do much the same.
We’ve got a lot of hurts to work through, sadnesses and regrets aplenty. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us, fraught with risks and dangers. One or more of us might not even make it to the end. But in this moment, this tiny, encapsulated moment, we have each other, and we’re okay. We’re relaxing, gathering our strengths. Sometimes, sometimes that in and of itself is still the right thing to be doing. Sometimes, well, sometimes you just have to accept that you might not be able to handle everything, all the time, and give yourself permission to relax and enjoy the tiniest of victories, surviving for a while longer, and realizing someone you worried about is actually alive. That’s our celebration right now. Hellga, a criminal, sure, but a repentant woman, is alive. I drift off to sleep in Teuila’s embrace.
She was right, we made it basically just in time to be first in line, but now we’re essentially snoozing on our feet as we await the grand opening of the park. I’ve heard of state and county fairs that spring up for a weekend or a month or something, renting rides or tents or something, or storing them in some massive back-lot somewhere in the county, but I’ve never heard of a basically one-year-only theme park, or semi-permanent circus-grounds.
We got cute little tokens on red-ribbon string as being part of the first hundred arrivals on opening day. They look like arcade tokens, the sorts of coins that work in machines where you have to buy all of your plays in advance. Only, they have a tiny hole drilled in them for the ribbon string to be threaded through.
My bestie is dashing through the areas between the stalls now, our fingertips barely touching as she excitedly explores our available options. I’m so enamored of the smile she wears while she gazes around at everything in wide-wonder. She begins to outpace me, due to her energetic exuberance, and my mild exhaustion. Some of which is due to the fact that I carried her over the fence, and the last few hundred yards, before we collapsed at the entrance.
“You two, hold it right there!” Comes an angry voice from the other side of the stall. I freeze, a fearful expression upon my face. My bestie is turning worriedly in this direction, knowing how terrified I am of conflict. My mind is racing. I can’t imagine what we could have done to earn the ire of anyone who works the fairgrounds.
My best friend in all the world is trying to mouth something along the lines of stay calm, but it’s so hard to prevent myself from bolting. While quaking, I jerkily turn towards the angered voice. I gulp, and can’t hide the tears streaming down my cheeks. The dark morning hides most of my visage, I’m sure, but the attendant has a flashlight aimed my way.
He’s currently wearing oversized pants, held up by suspenders, and a sweaty under-shirt. His curly brown hair hangs unevenly, lopsided off each side of his head as he pulls a top-hat down atop his brow, struggling to even out the mass of entangled curls. He jams the miniature flashlight into his mouth while he pulls on an impressively patterned waistcoat.
The voice goes through several shifts in pitch, coughs, and finally lands in a cartoonish voice with a silly cadence, “Ah, hem, ahem, hem, koff, hem, hey-lo yew tew, howdy ye dew! Welcome ta Wild Willy’s Wonderland! Opening day of the season, one season only! Boy howdy yew look blew. Why so glum, chum?”
I blink rapidly as I stare at the clownish madman. My heart is hammering so hard in my chest that I feel like I’m about to faint. Heck, my pulse feels as if it’s choking off my words from being able to escape my throat. I wobble slightly, dizzy from the sheer backlash of it all. Did this person really just want to stop the first passersby to get into character? I can only gulp down heaping mouthfuls of sticky saliva. My tinnitus begins to drown out the rest of the noise of the fairground as it begins to spring to life, teeming with new arrivals and occupants. My mandible joints, and biceps twitch and spasm. My right eyelid joins the spasmodic display.
Thankfully, my bestie snags my arm and speaks for me, “Sorry, my Err, err, we’re kinda shy. Love the getup though! Your park looks amazing! Are you an MC?”
The man taps his nose and winks in response, before saying, “Right yew are, right yew are, looks like yew’re customers one and tew, so I hope we’ll be seeing yew up in the front row come opening ceremonies. That’s in forty five minutes in the big top, at the central stage down thataway. Please, please do stop by. Tho perhaps, after getting your shy friend a drink and some air. If yew need more than ice-cream and cotton candy, take these passes around back of that tent over there. It’s employees only, but these’ll get yew an exception. We’ve got massive pots of chili, grilled hotdogs and sausages, and more that yew’d expect at a family cookout. Probably a bit healthier than surviving on sugar all day. One street kid knows another.”
My jaw hangs low. He knew we were, or are, street kids, runaways, survivors. That’s why he was so hasty to grab our attention. My pulse is still hammering up into my eardrums, but I’m more stricken at the kindness than in fear now. In truth, we could definitely benefit from eating more than just day old breads from the bakery, or the mark-downs from the delicatessen, or a full day of ice cream. I accidentally salivate at the idea of tearing into a big bowl of steaming chili. There’s a knowing chuckle from the emcee, as well as my beloved bestie.
For some reason, I feel like I was having a fairly good dream. Nothing good lasts forever though.