“One more night?” she tried with the most innocent look she knew she could give. “We promised three shows! We’ve only done two!”
Natharie, it seemed, was well past the point in letting any of that change her mind. “You’re just like Insith. I’m not suggesting it because I think it’s a good idea to go back on those kinds of things. I’m suggesting it because, at least to me, it’s rather obvious no one here is interested enough to make a third show worth it.”
“I think there is.”
“We barely filled half the seats.”
“Dad’s rule was a fourth or less! Half’s still plenty.”
“I really don’t think you’re understanding…”
Their own half-argument was put on pause when they walked by someone—a teenager and his parents—having a much more obvious one of his own.
“Really? Them?”
His mother said something that, judging by her expression, had been some kind of kind reminder.
“Well, thank you, I understand perfectly! You’re telling me to get myself killed.”
His father said something that must’ve been stern.
He was much quieter when he replied, “W-well, yes, but… with them..?”
Sukeena had stopped a moment ago, but Natharie—while she continued to keep an eye on him and his parents—hadn’t actually stopped until he looked at them. He glanced between the two of them, back at his parents, and then nervously walked up to Natharie.
“Hello,” he said in an almost reluctant way, like more out of a necessary step in order to do what he wanted. Suffice to say Natharie didn’t look impressed, but he undoubtedly picked up on that, and continued, “I’m Miskunn Sumar. My parents assured me that at least one of you would remember that last name…”
A rare kind of realization dawned on Natharie then, even if Sukeena was still trying to remember where she’d last heard the name. “Sumar, as in that troupe of dancers we’d collaborate with whenever our paths seemed to cross in Seothia? Insith had kept in touch with them.”
Miskunn nodded. “I’m glad I didn’t have to explain that part. I had figured you would’ve forgotten by now—this is the first time any of us have interacted with each other in several years, after all.”
“Is there something we can do for you?” Sukeena prompted, a lot brighter than what her mind had started guessing. Had something happened to them, too..? Well, it didn’t look like it… Miskunn’s parents seemed happy and encouraging, much more than what Natharie had been in their own situation.
He must’ve noticed something, because the first thing he actually said was, “It’s nothing bad.” He shrugged. “They’ve just decided it was time to split up. You might remember what it was like—most of them are around my parents’ age and they didn’t pick up a lot of new members. Now everyone’s more interested in settling down and I’m practically the only one young enough to ‘carry on’ the legacy. Not that I’m interested in dance specifically, but I know for sure I’m not done traveling.”
“So you want to travel with us?” she asked, more eager than she’d meant to be but welcome all the same. She wanted him to know that she’d happily let him in and, for once, Natharie didn’t seem to have that many reservations about it either.
He nodded. “If you’d let me.”
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Natharie chose to change it, mentioning what Sukeena wouldn’t, “If you’re willing to take the risk of being with us. The troupe you were a part of were all Seothian, weren’t you? And… normal ones, with nothing special about any of you. Ours is mixed—one that wouldn’t be welcome in all the crowds that you once performed for.”
Sukeena wondered how obvious her glare was, either to Miskunn or anyone else who might be passing by. Of course she had to acknowledge that it was true, but it was one of the things Insith would avoid drawing attention to, and she wanted to do the same. It shouldn’t matter who the troupe was made up of, as long as they were all able to contribute to the show. But Natharie was always blunter than Insith was, often cutting down the bush instead of beating around it.
Almost surprisingly, Miskunn didn’t seem to mind. He laughed, in fact. “I’m well aware of you and what happened to you. I’m still not sure about how safe it really is to stay with you. But you’re going to travel all over the continent, aren’t you? I’ve never been to Qizar but I hear it’s lovely no matter the time of year you visit. I’d gladly come with you to see that for myself.”
“Well, then I don’t see a reason to wait!” Sukeena remarked, beaming. “I can show you to the others and you can become an official member. You’d be the first person we’ve gotten with knowledge of performing right from recruitment! I bet people are going to want to see you.”
“Oh, I’m not a performer,” he corrected quickly, almost hesitant. “Not like my parents and most of the other troupe members were.”
Natharie seemed to consider it, but she must not have been able to find any mention of it in her memory, so she asked, “What was it that you did? Whatever it was, you’d been doing it for a while. Insith mentioned how you’d chosen to do something different…”
Now this was something he was much more confident in answering. “I did music, mostly, with a bit of prop and costume designing. You might be good on the first part but, from what I hear, you’re somewhat lacking in the second. Don’t worry. It won’t take long for me to figure something out once I see who I’m working with.”
“Well, no matter what you do, I’m glad you’re coming with us!” Sukeena started walking, gesturing for him to follow her. “We set up the caravan just outside of town, it isn’t too far. Then you can meet all the others.”
They went back to the caravan, though only Orith was outside at the time to greet them. He got the others and Sukeena introduced Miskunn to them, explaining a bit of what he’d told them about himself. Everyone gave an enthusiastic greeting aside from Umi—who had a more subtle way of welcoming their newest member.
“You know, you’re doing a lot better than I assumed you would,” Miskunn remarked that night. Sukeena had failed to convince Natharie to stay, so Orith and Umi were helping to pack up their things. “I was surprised when I realized that you were still doing this.”
“Do you really think we’re the kind of people that’ll give up so easily?” Sukeena asked, hoping the anxious part of her tone wasn’t too obvious. She wanted to avoid talking about this, yet she knew the dangers of very clearly trying to change the subject.
“I wouldn’t call it ‘giving up’ so much as ‘using some common sense,’” he said, apparently unaware of what she was trying to do. “I know what I heard. And given the fact we were far away when we heard it, things were probably a lot worse than that…”
But then he must’ve realized her growing nervousness as those that didn’t know started to get curious. She hoped her glance would say the things she couldn’t; that she didn’t want them to know, or be worried about, what had happened. That it was in the past now.
Miskunn changed the subject. “You’ve got some promise, though. I’m excited to start working with you.”
Miho, Ilathy, and Nillie laughed. “Us too!” they said in unison, each with their own wide grin.
Detu smiled and nodded, about the extent of communication he was comfortable with whenever it wasn’t needed.
Orith, from where he was a little bit away, said, “Welcome to the troupe! I don’t think you’ll ever get bored with us as company.” It sounded like Umi mumbled something that was either a similar statement or a disagreement.
“I’ve got to admit,” Natharie began, glancing at Sukeena, “it seems things are coming together. Maybe one day we’d be able to rival what Insith had.”
Sukeena grew a confident smirk. “Oh, there’s no maybe! I know we’re going to turn out just as great—better—than what his troupe was like. People across the continent are going to know our names! They’ll travel halfway across a kingdom to see us perform!” She looked at each of them. “I know it, because you’re all here. Together, we’re bound for something great, and I’m not the kind of person that would lie about something like that.”
It didn’t seem like they needed reassurance; they agreed, perhaps even felt it too. They were all going to do things that made them unforgettable—the dream of any performer. She knew they weren’t quite there yet, but she could tell that the day was quickly approaching.
She knew he’d be proud to see where they all were now.