“Ladies and germs and all other worms, welcome to the grandest illusion in the world!”
The crowd buzzes in fervor at Sunshine’s words. When they begin to die down, Sunshine spreads his arms wide to direct the swarming fireflies to illuminate the stage. When the dim glow of turquoise rounds the circumference of the stage, he lifts the orb of his cane to his mouth to speak once more. The paintings on his cheeks glow with new life, and little tricklings of greenish smoke roll from the corners of his mouth.
“Prepare your eyes for a dazzling sight, one of magical, mystical fright. From islands afar to the circus of the stars, bringing Prometheus’ gift to our colorful bazaar. Dancing to the stage is our hellfire, DJ! Watch if you will, or will you cower away?”
With a flash of fog, Sunshine disappears from the stage. The haze hovers over the stage for a minute, but slowly fades to black smoke as DJ steps out into the dusty arena. They walk with no small pride in their steps, balancing their mangled sword over their shoulder. They brush away the hair from their eyes before coming to a halt in the center stage. When the fog rolls away, they can finally see the stands around them. With an obsidian grin plastered on their face, they open their arms wide and take a bow. The crowd applauds again.
With the frenzy of the crowd covering their motions, DJ begins to conjure a song. They begin with the stomp of their foot, blowing ashes from the ground as the thunderous rhythm of some unseen drum rolls out a harsh tempo from still air. They roll the claws of their fingers along a strip of faint orange light, and at once the silence around their head unfurls into a melody. It won’t be hard to keep a song now. As long as they keep moving, the music will come. They click the tips of their claws against the blade of their sword, and it bursts into flame. They raise it above their head, slash it down to the ground, and the infernus song finally begins.
DJ moves as gently as the boughs of a willow tree, but with the fire swirling around them, they look like they’re the conduit of a grand storm. They let their blade lead their way around the burning sigil forming in the ground, be it from swinging it into the dust, tossing it in the air, or slashing at the licking heat. The creeping tendrils crackle into an odd sort of music befitting a terrible deity, but DJ knows their fear is only for show. Whatever gods of dark demise lie in the boundless stars of Portar, they’re surely not among them.
When they look out beyond the flames, they find themselves alone in the tent. It’s hard to catch a glance any longer than a split second, especially when they have a sword to manage, but even in the frenzy of the dance, they find themselves alone. Not unwatched, of course, but not watched from ahead. Something is behind them, and getting closer by the second.
The drums grow offbeat as DJ hurriedly turns around. Far away, on the other side of the stage, Sunshine watches with an unblinking stare. They calm their breath again and return to their performance.
It still isn’t right. They pick their pace up again, tossing their sword overhead as they conjure flames from their hands, but they can’t keep their focus completely in line. It seems now, knowing Sunshine still stands in the alcove, that their back begins to burn from his stare. They try to focus on the smell of the smoke around them, perhaps to hold onto some fleeting hope they’ll remain unseen, but to no avail. The prickings of a thousand needles stab into their back, into their wings, into their hands.
They dance as though they’re walking on knives now. Every other step propels them high off of the ground. Their leaps leave behind trails of light in the flame, and with the tip of their blade they cut glyphs in the air. The racing of their heart slowly trickles out into the music. DJ growls in frustration. They’re sure Sunshine doesn’t mean malevolence-- not yet, at least --but it doesn’t matter.
They shake their head as they finally land back to the ground, and the sudden wave of applause pushes his eyes out of their mind. Oh, if only their friends could watch them right now!
DJ giggles to themselves. I’m on fire.
They slide to stage left, leaving a wild mushroom cloud in their trail. They open their arms as they step into a sideward lunge and unfurl their wings for the first time in their show. They stomp once and jut back, then again. The third time, they jump up and take flight. It’s easier to take off when you don’t have the weight of someone else on your back. Or perhaps it’s easier because they’ve had to carry just about everyone at some point. Except for Ikimono, of course. They wonder if they’d like a ride over the circus at some point. Not tonight, though, it’d have to be a night with clear skies so they can show them the stars above.
Pillars of orange light burst from the ground, and DJ dodges each with incredible agility. It’s not the same as dodging real trees in the forest, but it’ll make do. Again they wish for someone to be out with them, if for no other reason then to warn them of potential crashes. They try to hear Peony’s voice in their mind, shouting from just behind them about swerving left to right. The music behind them is too loud to make it out. They decide when the music dies down a little, they’ll roll into a landing. They swish past one final column of fire, nosedive to the ground, then roll from their shoulder up onto their knees. Now the crowd is really set.
DJ hoists their blade into the air, then slams it into the ground. When they grab the handle with their other hand, cracks of magma start to grow from the blade. They take three deep breaths, feeling the dust scratch at the inside of their lungs. Then, in one violent movement, DJ throws back their head and lets a grand inferno leap from their mouth. With arms outstretched, the song around them leaps into a frenzied climax. In this stance, they look like a god.
To Sunshine, a god of the damned.
He watches from the entrance between the backstage and the performance, his eyes darting between the color dancing in the dust on the floor. At first, he thinks he is afraid of the fire. The long, creeping tendrils of energy looked to beckon him onto the stage. Whispers of voices he once remembered fill the gaps in the air around him, asking questions he almost listens to. The key tied around his throat now feels like a noose in the dry heat. Something in the back of his mind burns with the same intensity as the flames before him. His amygdala, most likely. How could one not be afraid of the destruction before them?
And DJ? Just dancing through it all, without a care in the world. Ordinarily he’d take no care to the confidence of one’s act, perhaps even praise it, but DJ is different. Something about it seems unnatural. No, unnatural isn’t the right word. They’re too at home in the fire to be unnatural. Excessive is the right word. Perhaps it comes with the mastery of the element, but encountering danger with the grace of a shooting star feels too defiant to be true. DJ isn’t afraid. They can’t be afraid. And the light, energy, the pyre around them, it bows to them as if they are their god.
To them. Yes, To them! Not to him.
The yellows and oranges no longer captivate him with the same glorious fear one should see in a firedancer. A firedancer should invoke fear for the dancer, not for the viewer. Now, Sunshine finds the fear to be his own. Fear of the song around him, the hypnotic drums beckoning like outstretched arms of a fearsome warrior. Fear of the ashes left behind, like an empty grave inviting him to death. To DJ, the master of the chaos around them, begging with only a hand and a wave to come surrender to the entropy.
His bones ache as the heat brushes against his cheeks. He imagines the flames climbing higher, ever higher, reaching up to the rafters in their song. He imagines the suffocating stench of smoke chasing him like a vengeful spirit to the center of DJ’s ashen pit. The fear left inside of him wrenches in his stomach as his marrow burns in terror. The weight of imagined falling debris crushes his shoulders as he finds his own breath faltering. His knees buckle. His eyesight grows hazy. The sounds of DJ’s song fade away. Now, all he can see is DJ. DJ, the beastly king of his only fear.
He stares into the licking flames. He knows one day they will swallow him whole.
On the stage, DJ bows. They do not care for the applause. The dance alone is enough to satisfy them. The flames die away into darkness once more, and the sigils on the ground fade into the shadows. DJ looks back and nods at the good work, then turns back to the crowd. They toss their sword over their shoulder, fold in their wings, and walk back to the entryway.
“So, how was that?” DJ asks.
Sunshine is silent.
DJ grins. “Speechless? I’m glad.”
DJ walks past Sunshine with a little laugh. Sunshine stands silent for another moment. The paralysis eats away at him like maggots. He knows the stage is empty now, safe from the call of death, but he still can’t force himself to enter it. He looks over his shoulder every now and again, making sure DJ isn’t ready to conjure up their flames again. He wouldn’t put it past them to make a sick joke like that. And they would stand there, right at the mouth of the stage, and they would laugh. He’s sure of it.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
When at last he is sure DJ is gone, he starts to walk back out into the light of the stage. His eyes dart about the ground, and he finds there are no ashes to be found. With every step, he fears the fire reigniting. He doesn’t think through the next introduction. Who was it for? It doesn’t matter. He can’t stop thinking about the demon backstage. He finishes the intro, bows, then retreats back to his alcove.
Whatever the next act is, he neither knows nor cares. He stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to find DJ on the neurons. He doesn’t know what he wants to find. Some part of him wants to know how, another part why, and another part what are you to do with it. The thoughts swim around his head, and he finds his eyesight fuzzied by their legions. He taps his fingers nervously atop the cane, trying to pick through the sea of thoughts to find that growling voice.
Oh? Out there? Yeah, no, It’s really fun.
The sound of their voice burns in Sunshine’s mind like molten iron. As soon as he catches it, he digs his focus into it.
Oh, don’t worry about it, Seb. You’ll be fine.
The thought of them being watched is almost comforting. Sunshine wants to believe it means they won’t do anything destructive.
Oh yeah, really well! You should’ve seen how big I got those flames to be. I’ll give this place one thing, you’ll have so much more space than what you’ll need. I think maybe for the next show I’ll try something bigger.
Sunshine’s heartbeat starts to skitter again.
Burn anything? I’m not gonna burn this place.
DJ’s tone is humorous. It frightens him more. There is a long pause before they speak again.
Oh, yeah. Should I tell them or should one of you?
Sunshine’s eyes shoot open. He leans out to check and see the progress on the other performer. When he worries about them finishing too early, he summons a swarm of wasps to disorient the performer.
Alright, alright, fine. You know how you get two instances of fire-setting tendencies before you get diagnosed with pyromania?
Sunshine closes his eyes. He hopes it’ll get him a little closer to the sound.
Well, it’s true. If you set a couple fires, like, fireplace or hearth kinda things, you’re fine. Completely usual human thing to do. But when you start setting fires for kicks, well, then you start having problems.
A pause. Sunshine leans in closer to the cane.
No, no, of course not! Do I look like the kind of person who sets fires for kicks?
Another pause.
Oh shut up! It was one arson investigation! One! And the charges didn’t even stick!
A little sound of laughter rings in DJ’s ears. It’s not theirs, though. It’s Sebastian’s. Why his laughter comes so easily with their thoughts is a mystery to Sunshine.
Oh, we went out to eat at one of the chain restaurants they’ve got around Portar nowadays, and when Seb and Willbur went out to pay the bill this--oh, I don’t even know, this thing just sat down at the table and started talking to me. Of course, it conveniently was just me at the table. Juniper, Peony, Creo, and Crick went out to look around in the country store they’ve got there, Adderall and Fuego were playing with one of the games they had at another table, and I figured I’d hang back to make sure nobody took our spot for when they brought out dessert. That’s not important. Point is, this thing started talking to me about something, and I panicked.
The taste of a lie starts to sizzle on Sunshine’s tongue. What the lie is, he doesn’t know. Maybe he’ll ask Ikimono about it later.
Oh, goodness, no. I got so nervous I sneezed and set half the room on fire.
Somehow, this fills Sunshine with even more dread than if they had set the fire intentionally. The sudden laughter coming through the neurons doesn’t help much either. He lets DJ’s thoughts out of his grasp and stands there in the dark, utterly blank.
What did he expect, though? A beast walking on two legs doesn’t make it less of an animal. And animals have no idea how to control themselves. A lion will jump with claws outstretched at the slightest sign of danger. Perhaps a dragon, demon, whatever they are, will do the same. They’ll find themselves backed into whatever imaginary corner they please, and they’ll set everything ablaze.
The thought almost comforts Sunshine. Yes, he thinks, they are an animal. An animal pretending to be human. The wolf in sheep’s clothing, freshly wandering into the flock. As the shepherd, he thinks, he has to protect his sheep. That’s why they’re all here in the circus. They’re all here because nobody else will want them. It would certainly be a shame if someone took their heaven and ruined it with fire, especially fire so careless as to be let loose in inferno at so much as a nervous sneeze. He has to keep watch over his beloved flock.
He recalls Ikimono’s last story. The werewolf in sheep’s clothing, as it were. Ikimono has a nasty sort of habit of predicting things. Perhaps his tale was a warning.
Suddenly, Sunshine remembers the actor out on stage. He hurriedly sticks his head out to the open stage, only to find the body of the performer, stung to death, lying on the ground.
He rolls his eyes. Oh well. It’s not like one lost performer matters much.
He strides out onto the stage and addresses the crowd again.
“Apologies for my little delay,” He begins, “But it seems like this one here couldn’t play. But how about two goofballs, the best ones around? Adderall and Fuego, the knife-throwing clowns!”
The crowd applauds, and Sunshine turns to leave. Already, Adderall and Fuego have rushed out to the stage and are setting up their target and knife rack. When Sunshine reaches the back alcove, Adderall has already been strapped to the target, and Fuego is starting to spin her around.
Fuego opens up vens purple cape, and tens of glimmering knives fall in a heap on the floor. Ve picks one up by the blade with vens bandaged hand. The crowd laughs a little as Fuego finds venself unfazed. With a quick flick of the wrist, ve flings it at Adderall, and the handle sticks itself into the hay bale target, narrowly missing her throat.
Sunshine turns his gaze away from the two as Fuego roots through the pile of knives. The two will surely keep the audience entertained for a good long while. It’s even hard for him to tear his eyes away from their bright, mismatched outfits.
He ponders for a moment on how to take care of the DJ problem. He couldn’t just tell them to leave. They don’t seem the type to go without their friends, and probably not without a fight either. A lure out to the forest might work, but just what would lure them away?
Sunshine looks back out at the stage. Fuego’s cape flutters as ve moves, and the sequins on vens dress are almost blinding from the stage lights. Something’s on vens hand, how had he not noticed it before? He looks closer, ever so slightly leaning out from the alcove into the stage. It’s red, just a little bit, is that blood? Yes, it is blood! Blood on a bandage, as a matter of fact. Fuego must have cut venself on a knife of some kind and patched up vens hand in a haste. Sunshine laughs to himself. If ve was so klutzy to do that on the first show, then perhaps ve didn’t have as much experience as ve would like him to believe.
Sunshine finds an idea blooming in his mind. If he can curse a knife and get Fuego to cut venself, he can get DJ out. DJ will feel so terribly awful for ven, they’ll have no choice but to leave with ven. Of course, it means losing another actor, but with how troublesome Fuego has made venself be, it won’t be a hard loss.
“Yes, yes, what a wonderful plan!” Sunshine mutters to himself, “I just have to act while I’ve still got the upper hand.”
Sunshine wanders back through the tunnels to the boxes of props. Surely Fuego found vens knives back here before the show began. He beelines towards a blue crate, still left open against the wall, and finds the glow of metal casting light spots on the wall. He picks up a knife not unique enough to describe and slips it in the pocket of his coat. He hesitates before turning around again, half expecting DJ to be right behind him, ready to choke him with a clawed hand. When he turns back, though, there’s no one to be found. He walks back to the alcove.
Sunshine is half lost in a nightmare when Fuego and Adderall bound past him. Their cheering is already starting to grow annoying. He stumbles back to the curtain and mutters a few rhythmic curses under his breath. When he looks back up again, the two have vanished into the darkness. Up to no good, he wagers.
He taps the outline of the knife in his pocket. Hopefully, he’ll only need to put up with them for another week, two weeks at most. He knows the plan is meant for DJ more than them, but roping them in it puts him at even more ease. Two birds with one stone, one irritating and another fearsome.
He looks back out into the darkness and smiles. Yes, perhaps it’s good that he’s going for Fuego. Maybe Adderall will go with ven too. Three of them, gone just like that! He’ll have to put up with Adderall for a little longer, sure, but it will be worth it just to see her agony alongside Fuego’s. Maybe, if she gets too bothersome between now and then, he’ll go after her too. Just a little something to take the edge off the wait. It wouldn’t even take that much to frighten her, no doubt. And if it doesn’t take more than a spider, imagine what seeing her own innards would do to her.
But that’s a thought for another time. He walks out into the light once more, and turns to the audience with renewed, beaming pride.
“And now an act of much greater grace, a hypnotizing dance of hoops, rings, and lace. Won’t you please welcome our dancers, Juniper and Maryelle, who’ll capture your mind in the colorful swell?”
The crowd applauds, and Sunshine ducks away once more. He leaves behind a tracing of fireflies. When the lights fade into darkness, they begin to ignite. In the shadows left behind are the silhouettes of Juniper and Maryelle, suspended from the rafters in cradles of silk.