She felt a heaviness set upon her limbs, like her muscles had melted into a mud puddle. Her eyes would wander occasionally to the edges of the forest on the left side of the road as if there was something else there. Her mind sometimes focused on the mud beneath her boots, the squelch of it, when really, she wanted to focus on talking to Bo. Her mouth stayed silent, as if it was shut with wire. The longer she spent awake, the more she realized how blind she had been. This was the darkness Bo was talking about.
Bo remained reticent as they traveled together. He looked grim, and she wondered if that was his normal face with his mouth set like a line and with his eyes in constant consternation. His pace was quick, and his satchel bumped against his back as he walked with it slung over one shoulder and one hand holding the strap in place. Was he affected by the dark miasma, too?
“When have you last gone into Iccherun?” he asked suddenly. She felt a heaviness lift just a bit.
“I…I can’t remember, actually. Grandfather doesn’t want me to go to town at all. I mean, what I remember…” she stretched her mind out, pulling back as far as she could remember.
“Yes, now I remember. The town was having a celebration or something. And I really wanted to go because I saw this carnival pass by on the road by our house.”
“Carnival?”
“Yes, it…it was…why is it hard to remember?” Leena flashed her teeth and puffed a breath through her nose.
“Here,” Bo said, stopping. He pulled something out of the pocket of his jeans, offering it to her.
It was small blue stone wrapped up in twists of thin metal like an egg in a nest or the moon covered by dark clouds. The metal twisted up in a loop at the top to allow for string. The stone gave off a soft glow, and when she took it in her hand, she felt a slow release of tension.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a talisman. It will help with the fog everywhere. Just…don’t lose it.” Bo started walking again, and she lagged a bit behind, examining the talisman.
Her mind started to clear; she felt a looseness in her chest, and even more now, she saw. Everything was dying just like Bo had said.
She started to remember a little bit. She remembered the green of the trees and the softness of the grass. The sky used to be blue, and the sun used to be less ominous. Had she seen the moon or stars at all in the last few months?
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“I remember now! The carnival,” she exclaimed, “It was so strange! I didn’t understand then, but I see now. Oh my…” Her voice dropped from horror and her legs stopped moving. Bo eyed her somberly.
“It was horrible,” she whispered.
A carnival had come to Iccherun for the town’s celebration.
Leena watched from the porch as she saw the slow march of painted wagons, rocky trailers, and tired animals. The groups of travelers were spaced far apart, as if they were from everywhere and were converging in the town.
The people poked out from cages in grotesque fashions. Some were missing eyes or limbs. Their skin ranged from pale gray to sickly yellow to sharp red. Some grinned at her as they passed, laughing hoarsely, with eyes sharp like daggers. Others were wailing, crying, and making other frightful noises. Naked, imp-like children ran to the front of the train, giggling.
The animals were misshapen and bizarre. The horses had hard horn-like spines on their backs; the goats had finger-like appendages from their faces; the tigers were colored a dark red and their stripes were more like splotches across their patchy fur. She watched an elephant, slow and large, waddle back and forth, tusks sawed off into jagged edges and plastered with large polyp-like protrusions.
“Get inside, Leena.” She turned to see her grandfather at the front door, his hand resting on the side jamb of the door.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, glancing back once to see the monstrous carnival.
He shut the door behind them.
“Remember, Leena, never go to the town. And don’t watch the…carnival either.” She nodded but glanced back at the door.
“Hey,” Grandfather barked. She turned her head back to him. His face flushed, and his eyes intensified. He grabbed her by the shoulders.
“I mean it. If I see you even looking back at the door, you’re gonna be in trouble!” he said, spitting close to her face.
“Y-yes, sir!” she squeaked, and as soon as he let go, she dashed up the stairs to her room, away from the carnival train, away from the town, away from Grandfather.
Despite Grandfather’s warnings, her curiosity was peaked. She had never seen such a sight before. It was abominable, appalling, and shockingly vile, and it was interesting to watch.
She trembled a bit with excitement and fear.
The town itself she had been forbidden to go to after she came home with a gash in her head and bruises on her back. It was her fault, she supposed, after all, she had run into the local gang of ruffians whose sole job was to make her life miserable. And she had caused one of them to possibly break his jaw. And she also was not as careful to hide who she was as she should have been.
Despite the problems, she really did like the town with its sweetshop smells, its bustle of people, and its lack of Grandfather. Though he had told her not to go to town again, she had been multiple times since then. She just had to be very careful not to be noticed by keeping to the shadows and hiding her face.
She pulled out a hooded, dark colored jacket, possibly a bit too warm for the weather, and pulled back her hair into a hat. Her shoes were lighter than her boots, and she made sure she had her switchblade with her in the jacket pocket.
She waited until the night fell when her grandfather was fast asleep, not even realizing she had skipped dinner. She crept down the stairs, avoiding the squeaky spots, and quietly zipped out the door and down the road.