@Blueberrypodoboo
Hey, it's time for the end to Walter's lore! I know I said I'd work on other lores before I sent it, but after a while of thinking about it, I thought it'd probably be best if I sent it sooner merely because I'd hate to leave it a good few months before I sent it (and because I feel like I hyped it up way too much). Either way, I hope you enjoy it! If you want me to change anything, just tell me!
Hey, it's time for the end to Walter's lore! I know I said I'd work on other lores before I sent it, but after a while of thinking about it, I thought it'd probably be best if I sent it sooner merely because I'd hate to leave it a good few months before I sent it (and because I feel like I hyped it up way too much). Either way, I hope you enjoy it! If you want me to change anything, just tell me!
Walter (pt. 3) wrote:
-3-
They were home.
The faint smell of petrichor wafted into Walter’s nose, and he sighed in relief. For the past two months, he’d had the pleasure of encountering many familiar smells—the smell of the ocean as waves crashed against the shore, the scent of roses mingling together into one beautiful explosion. Freshly baked donuts and perfect dinners in taverns across Sornieth flashed in an instant, but no scent could ever compare to one; the unique smell of a—of his—Circus. He hoped it was finished and ready to go for tomorrow, their first showing in three months. How many dragons would turn up, much less return, after the fire happened was uncertain.
However, he had hope. You have to have some hope in running a circus, after all.
Digits intertwining with his, Walter looked towards the suspect. His gaze landed on his husband, whose casual elegance made him smirk. Vladimir strolled at his side, scarlet mane tied back into a loose ponytail and eyes that, for the first time in a while, held a bright, excited glimmer in the midst of their green. Depression hadn’t gone easy on him, especially during the early days of their “escape”, but the improvement was certainly remarkable. Perhaps a break was what they needed after all.
What a thought in a million a break was. During that time, they tried to remember the last time they’d had an official weekend away, let alone a two month holiday. Neither of them could think of a time after Torny turned five. The very thought of a break hadn’t crossed their minds in years, not with the circus taking up so much of their time.
“I wonder how Torny is,” Vladimir thought aloud, squeezing his paw.
“He never sounded worried in his letters,” Walter said, lips pursed in thought. “However, this is our son that we’re talking about.”
“That’s why I’m wondering.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.”
“He takes after us, Walter. I highly doubt he hasn’t taken anxiety from at least one of us.”
He chuckled, peering up at the dying sky. Orange leaked into deep blue and royal purple like watercolour paint, flecks of white glinting behind curtains of clouds. Dusk was always his favourite time of the day. It was a shame; too many months have gone by since he was last awake to witness it.
“So,” Vladimir began, a hint of amusement in his tone, “what state do you think the circus will be in?”
“I reckon they’ve burnt it down again in protest.”
He smiled at his husband’s hoarse laugh, watched as he moved to quieten it with his paw. Walter flicked his nose in response. Never again did he want Vladimir to cover his laugh. He’d spent the last two months falling in love with everything about his husband, including his laugh, and only recently did he begin to relax. In fact, he’d never realised how little Vladimir let himself go until their holiday.
A vow of his slipped into his mind, one he’d renewed at the beach late at night when they were soaked to the bone from a water fight, wrapped in blankets and eating marshmallows. ‘With this candle, I will light your way into darkness.’ That night was one of his favourites, merely because of Vladimir’s smile - crooked, huge and full of life. It was his rarest of grins after the fire, known also as his victorious smile from the many times it popped up when they played a card game. The last time it’d appeared before their holiday was just before his asthma attack.
Vladimir still hadn’t finished laughing when he spoke, rubbing his nose. “Do you think they want the entire treasury after building the Circus in our absence?”
Walter grinned. “Maybe they just don’t want us back. Perhaps Torny’s a better ringleader than we are.”
“If he’s anything like you, he won’t be that good.”
“How dare you!” he exclaimed, shoving his husband into some bushes that clawed at his breeches.
It wasn’t a good idea. Vladimir, after untangling himself, proceeded to chase him. With a shriek, he turned and ran. He didn’t dare spare his pursuer a second glance, not when the ground cracked open beside him, spewing rock shards and vines ready to trip him at any moment.
“That’s cheating!”
Vladimir cackled. “There aren’t any rules to abide by!”
That was true enough.
He leapt and bound over the reaching vines, stumbling only once when one suddenly reached for his wrist. In his panic, he allowed it to catch him in a grip of steel, the vine wrapping around his wrist at least five times and keeping him in place. It was then that he spied Vladimir and stopped his struggle.
His eyes were alight, one silver and one green. Runes that Walter didn’t understand danced at the tips of his digits, sketching them with the ease of a natural-born warlock, and a bright and playful smile dancing along his lips. It didn’t take a lot, he now realised, to make his husband smile.
“You look beautiful, my dear,” he drawled, attempting to pull the vine free as he neared.
Vladimir raised an eyebrow at him, his eyes beginning to dim. “What makes you say that?”
Walter grinned. “You’re smiling.”
“I think I’ll let you go for that comment.”
“What, you were going to leave me here?”
“No, I was just going to amuse myself with your struggling.”
He let loose a laugh, the vine slipping free from around his wrist. It stung, the vine had rubbed his wrist raw, but he didn’t mind so much. At least it was gone now, along with the crack to his side as if it’d never been. He stared at it for a few seconds, pulling a face, before Vladimir grabbed his wrist and turned him around so they could walk along.
He slowly slung his arm around Vladimir’s shoulders and planted a kiss in his mane. As always, it smelt of lavender.“How long until we get back, do you think?”
“Less than a quarter of an hour, surely,” he yawned. “I hope to get back to a lovely, warm bed.”
“Do you want me to carry you until then?” A mischievous grin spread across his lips, his arm drifting from his husband’s shoulders to his waist. “Like Idid on our wedding night?”
He laughed in the face of Vladimir’s blush. It was almost unnoticeable, save for the tint of pink drifting into the base of his scar. “You caught me off-guard, that doesn’t count!”
“’Course it does!”
“No!”
“Then what would count, my dear Viper?” he couldn’t help but inquire, condemning his husband to less-than-a-quarter-of-an-hour of embarrassment.
“If I’d have given consent,” he hissed back. As much as he tried to hide it, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.
“Well, that beats the purpose—” Before Vladimir could move, Walter hoisted him into his arms and against his chest, ignoring his squeals and commands to put him down. “—don’t you think?”
Vladimir glared at him—his signature “Viper” glare; the slight slits of his irises tightened into a thin line, the clouds in his eyes settling and ready to capture you—despite the grin on his face. “You cheeky b—!”
“Ah-ah, dearest. No cursing.”
“Put me down.”
“Why?”
“Put me down!”
Walter smirked, his grip on Vladimir loosening to let him go, just as he heard someone scream “Dad!” behind him. A second later, he felt a weight slam into his back, almost knocking him over. His husband took that opportunity to scramble out of his hold as feathers brushed against his neck, a few of them slightly bent, with what looked like paint dotting the arms that wrapped around his neck.
“Is it just me,” he sneered, nuzzling his son’s cheek as he kept him up in a piggyback, “or have you gotten heavier?”
“It’s just you and your weak arms, Dad,” Torny giggled, innocence in his voice.
“What are you doing all the way out here, Little Blue?” Vladimir inquired, coming up to Walter’s side to stroke their son’s head-feathers. “We’re still a bit away from the Circus.”
“I wanted to ask you both something.”
Walter raised an eyebrow at him, mouth pulled into a confused frown. “Surely it could’ve waited until we got back to the Circus, sweetheart. You’re a long way out.”
“I’m almost seventeen, I can take care of myself.”
He started, stammering. “I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just—”
Vladimir took over, much to his relief. “We know you can handle yourself and we have full confidence in you, but we’re at least fifteen minutes away from the circus. It’s a bit far to travel just for a question.”
Torny stayed silent for a few seconds before wriggling down Walter’s back. He stood before them; a pink flush stained his cheeks, with bits of red and yellow and every other colour splattering his clothes. “I was going to ask you if you could wear blindfolds until we got home.”
Where Walter tensed, Vladimir cocked his head in questioning. “Why would you want us to wear blindfolds?” the latter inquired.
“It’s a surprise,” Torny mumbled, his flush deepening. He brought forth two midnight-black blindfolds from a small bag he wore.
Vladimir clutched Walter’s paw, a small smile playing at his lips. “I think you might be right, Walter. I think they burnt the Circus down in protest.”
Their son snorted before handing them the strips of fabric. “I promise it’s a good surprise and nothing to do with the Circus burning down again.”
*
At last, they came to a halt. Walter sat on the ground and awaited permission to remove his blindfold. Not only did it make him uncomfortable not to see, but also because he needed to remove some of the many stones wedged into the sole of his foot. Vladimir sat with him, evident by the groan and the sudden weight on his shoulder.
“Can we take them off yet, Little Blue?” Walter groaned, rubbing at his foot tentatively. “I’ve got a stone rave on my foot.”
“Not yet.” He didn’t miss the giggle that followed, cheeky and quiet.
“Torny...”
“Just give me chance, Dad!”
Walter gave up and scratched at his foot, removing as many stones as he could with each caress of his claws against skin. He kept an ear out for Vladimir, hoping he wouldn’t fall asleep on his shoulder. It’d be awkward to wake him up again, especially since the pair of them desperately wanted a nap.
Thudding footsteps sounded next to him, and a small digit poked his shoulder. “Can you stand up?”
“Torny, sweetheart,” Vladimir piped up before he could answer. “What’s this about?”
“Just trust me.”
They stood up, Walter swaying slightly on his feet, just as Torny gripped his paw and lead him forward to... somewhere. During their walk, he hadn’t bothered counting the seconds or steps. His son’s anxiety kept distracting him. A gentle squeeze seemed to relax him every now and then. It never lasted long.
Within a few steps, they stopped abruptly and then came the gentle command; “You can take them off, now.”
At first, after removing the fabric, black doused the world with only the stars to offer comfort. Coloured lights blinded him. The scent of fairly fresh Starwood threw him off his senses. Stones still stabbed into his feet. Then, as his eyes adjusted, his jaw almost dropped to the ground.
This can’t be the same Circus I saw two months ago.
Swinging above him was the Shatterskull banner, in its signature gold and red colours; Shatterskull Circus, the home of everything but normal. Two torches kept its colours vibrant even in the night, highlighting gold with its dancing green flames, the same of which lined the very path he and his husband stood on.
He had the breath sucked out of him as soon as he looked around. Bright light flickered all around him, lighting the Circus up and sending shadows sprawling all over in the darkness. Green flames jumped and twirled on either side of the path inside lampposts and on the tops of signposts. Signs pointed to the Fairgrounds and the Main Tent. Other signs, lending arrivals more details of the Circus, hung lower from curved steel arms below them; most of them speckled with different coloured paints.
“I...” He didn’t know what to say. How could he? He had to pinch his forearm just to make sure he wasn’t having some kind of lucid dream.
“Is it okay?” Torny asked hesitantly, rubbing his arm. Standing just a few feet away from them, he looked almost like a child again; nervous and fed up with constant moving but never admitting as such.
“Okay?” Vladimir cried from his side, coming up to their son and wrapping his arms around him. His wings followed soon after and enveloped him. “Torny, this is amazing.”
A small smile stretched across their son’s face. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Follow me.”
Walter stared ahead of Torny as he led Vladimir towards a shadow-enclosed area. His heart fluttered. It took him a few seconds to register him walking towards it. All of our homes have a designated area!
Following slowly, he stared at each home individually. All of them sat in a horseshoe around a filled fire pit, staring into it. No one caravan was the same; they all had different colour palettes, names, pictures and more. The first one he came to—Sylvius’s caravan—was a lime green colour with black paintings of plants and white ones of potion vials. His name swirled along the side in bright, glittering silver, and again on a swinging sign above the porch, flickering with the help of torches beside each caravan.
Many of the other caravans followed the same design, but also not. Aries’ caravan had red and brown flowing from every corner, with a creamy-white skull like the ones on his kilt sat behind a black, swirling font. Nova had the natural white of Starwood peeking through behind black crows carrying berries and crosses, her name forming from painted ivy; Leo with spurts of orange and black—like lit coals—flickering in the torchlight beside, bringing his name to life. Honk’s and Strom’s shared their matching scheme of orange and purple in waving streaks, and yet explosions, blades and black soot-like stains littered Jack’s and Gulliver’s.
Then there was the Azama caravan. He could tell it was theirs from a mile off, maybe more in broad daylight. The door, just like their old caravan, had Walter’s old family symbol on the front; a white and red rose curling around a harpe. It was the sign of fighter heritage—originally a war family—and the rose was their prevalence. The symbol held little meaning now. If anything, it was just a pretty picture to look at.
Wandering to the side of the caravan, he almost gasped. Red stained the Starwood walls, drifting into yellow and then blue. Red for Vladimir, blue for Torny, and yellow for me, he acknowledged, trailing his digits against the silver lettering of their names. A small, smeared paw-print accompanied them.
“This is beautiful,” he murmured, mostly to himself as he placed his own paw over the print. It was evidently Torny’s; his son’s paws were absurdly cutesy compared to his own. He noticed Torny standing a couple of feet away from him, making a show of pretending not to notice his words. “You did all of this?”
“I had help,” Torny admitted, blushing as his head-feathers fell flat against his neck.
“But you did most of this, didn’t you?”
He nodded. A smile grew. “I didn’t know what to do for our caravan, but I know you and Pa like the dusk, so I tried to recreate it with our colours. Is it okay?”
“It’s beautiful,” he repeated, grinning down at his son. “I’m so proud of you.”
Giggling, Torny took his paws and asked him, “Do you want to see the Fairgrounds?”
“I’d love to.”
It didn’t take them long to get there, sprinting over spiky gravel and laughing as they went. With a click of his son’s digits, the torches surrounding the Fairgrounds flickered to life and revealed a sight almost enough to make him fall to his knees.
Before him towered a huge, white and circular machine littered with specks of light as if pulled from the sun and placed there by the Lightweaver. Not a single hint of rust came to light. Colourful carriages swung in the slight midnight breeze, all of them different colours like the caravans with glass acting as a barrier between the inside and the outside. Comfortable-looking seats sat inside without a single crease insight. This isn’t even a second-hand machine... it’s brand new.
“That’s a Big Wheel,” he murmured. The last time he’d checked, a Big Wheel cost almost too much money; so much more than the Circus had at once given recent times. How it got there was his biggest inquiry. It was one he daren’t ask his son; he knew he wouldn’t get a straight answer.
“It is,” Torny confirmed, running up to a white podium on a brilliant stage of red, Shatterskull’s banner flapping on the front. A skull with glowing amber eyes stared him down from the centre of the Big Wheel. It willed him to come on board, to try and conquer it. “Do you want me to turn it on?”
Walter grinned. “Do fish swim in water?”
Snorting, his son pressed something on the podium and the machine flared to life. Not a single creak could he hear, no grating washed over the breeze. It spun smoothly without a single jolt or snap. He couldn’t resist the temptation to fly to the top and walk on it, giggling like a hatchling. The cold metal bit into his feet, the breeze much stronger up there, and the ground loomed underneath him like he was staring down into a canyon. It didn’t sway him. He loved it up here, so much so that as soon as Vladimir entered the Fairgrounds, he begged him to join him.
“Walt, it looks dangerous up there!” Vladimir called. Even from high up, he could see the worry in his mismatched eyes.
“Come join me, Viper!” he yelled, giggling giddily. “It’s amazing!”
After a couple of seconds, he found his husband grinning with him. It only made his brighter. “I’ll join you in a minute!”
Nodding, he stared out over the Fairgrounds and sighed. From up there, he could see Strom’s carnival games; some were claw games, others were popping balloons and knocking down coconuts. Each one had a special rigging spell on it, one he’d learnt before he arrived in the Circus. Strom thought he didn’t know about the rigging, and Walter never brought it up. As long as he was kind every once in a while, he didn’t mind what he did.
Jazzi’s Slushy Stand propped itself up over by the entrance to the Fairgrounds, the orange and green stripes vibrant in the light of the Big Wheel. Zechariah’s little stand towered opposite in red and cream, velvet curtains inside the box to keep the inside a secret, and between them rose Julienne’s food stand with her disgusting fish recipes and Tonna’s fortune stand with her vague words and twisting magic.
“Hey there, ringleader.”
Walter turned and smiled at his husband, who strolled along the top of the Wheel beside him, arms outstretched for balance. He gently clasped onto Vladimir’s paw and did the same, giggling when they stumbled a few times on thin air. Up there, he felt closer to the sky, and a few times reached up just to see if he could touch the stars. He had to admit, he didn’t want to get down. He wanted to stay up there for good.
“Did you find out how the Big Wheel even got here?” he called over the breeze, tracing a constellation with his digit. “It’s always been too expensive whenever we’ve looked.”
“He didn’t let on,” was Vladimir’s simply reply. “He said he’ll tell us later.”
“I hope he didn’t steal it.”
His husband snorted. “Yeah, because you can fit an entire Big Wheel in your pocket.”
“I didn’t mean it like that!”
They laughed on top of the Big Wheel until Torny called them down a minute later. As much as he didn’t want to, he flew towards the ground and landed with a soft thud, a cloud of earth flying up to greet him. Just as Vladimir landed beside him, the wheel slowed to a smooth halt, the lights died in the eyes of the skull. The Fairgrounds drifted into darkness once more.
“I hope that’s everything,” Walter sighed, smirking at his son. “It’ll be impossible to make this up to you on your birthday.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that, but there’s still some more.”
The pair of them gawked at Torny, who gestured for them to follow him and sped off towards the Big Top. Vladimir groaned when he was out of earshot. “How much has he got left to show us?”
“I don’t know, but he’s outdone himself big time.”
They followed as quickly as they could with exhaustion weighing them down and watched as Torny disappeared into the main tent. Out of everything—from the caravan site to the Fairgrounds to the caravans themselves—the only thing that hadn’t changed was the tent. At least, he hoped that was the case.
He was already hundreds of thousands of treasure indebted to the entire circus.
“Beauty before age,” Vladimir drawled beside him, holding back the main tent flap and gesturing for him to go inside.
Walter snarled at him with a grin and made his way inside. “You know that you got that statement wrong, right?”
“Yeah, I know.”
Darkness greeted the pair of them. The lanterns they had hanging from the centre posts before were unlit, with only the moonlight weaving its way through the open flaps to help them see. Vladimir quickly gripped onto his arm. He wasn’t scared of the dark, but having only one eye to see with never made things easy for him.
“Torny?” Walter called into the black, staggering forward. He had to use his tail to make sure he wouldn’t step on anything. “Where are you?”
No sound answered him.
Rolling his eyes, Walter turned back to Vladimir, whose misty eyes were filled with uncertainty.
“You okay, Viper?” he whispered, peering around the tent with prying eyes.
He shook his head. “This isn’t fun.”
Just as his husband finished his statement, they made their way into the centre. Light flashed above them. Blinded, Walter stumbled and rubbed frantically at his eyes. It hurt to look around and check if Vladimir was alright. With the dots dancing in his eyes, he couldn’t see him.
When he looked up, the entire Circus sat before him. At his confused expression, they all laughed, and yelled, “Welcome back!”
“So none of that was the welcome bit?” he said, gesturing to the world outside. “It was just you guys?”
Some of them snorted at that, others just shook their heads like they were already fed up with him. Either way, it made him smile until his gaze landed on Vladimir. He stood behind them all, rubbing his eyes with his wrists, with a wide grin plastered on his face. He looked almost proud of himself.
Walter pointed his finger at him in an accusing fashion. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”
“For a while,” his husband admitted, finally letting his paws drop back to his sides. “I brought it up with Torny before we went away after seeing the blueprints someone must’ve made.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Vladimir smirked. “We all know you love surprises, my dear.”
“So...” He flailed his paws around as if looking for the right way to describe his question before giving up and blurting out, “What was the flashing light?”
“Look up.”
He frowned, taking the initiative to look around. Everything looked the same, but above him floated expensive pixie lanterns, all with stained glass ranging from red to green to purple that threw colour around the tent. He remembered Tara asking about them for Kalameet’s performance, and having to turn it down because of funding.
“How do you find your new-and-improved Circus, Walter?” Shouhei inquired, clapping him on the shoulder with a gentle look in his eyes. He seemed to miss his startled jump.
Walter gave him a soft smirk in return. “I haven’t got the words to describe it, Shouhei.”
“We had everything warded while you were away, too,” Lady Jack cried excitedly, practically jumping on Gulliver’s shoulders. “We’ve got protection, now.”
“From what?”
She pursed her lips in thought. “Against malicious intenders, and the caravans were protected against anyone who isn’t invited or doesn’t already live there, I think...”
The reassuring nod from Hearth widened her grin.
“Plus—” Nova stood up across the way with that damned peach-coloured potion in her paws. “—with Sylvius’s help, I figured out a way to make everyone’s burns and scars disappear.”
As much as he didn’t want it to, his heart dropped into his stomach. A quick glance at his husband prevailed next to nothing, as he stood emotionless behind everyone else, and noticed the two vials in her paws. One for him and his burn on his cheek, one for Vladimir.
“Want them?”
He sighed. “Sure.”
Walter only just caught them when she threw them his way, and hesitantly offered one to Vladimir. “Would you like one?”
His husband thought about it, biting his lip. When he grinned, his breathing almost hitched. Many times had they talked about Vladimir’s scars—how Vladimir thought they were ugly and unnecessary and gave everyone the wrong impression—and every time he’d never believe him when he told him that scars weren’t meant to be beautiful, that they made him look ******. Of course, Walter wouldn’t deny him the opportunity to get rid of them if he so wanted. He’d just hate for him to do it through low self-esteem.
“You know what, love?” Vladimir deliberately paused, a knowing smile playing at his lips when he finally shook his head. “My scars are part of who I am. I’d hate to see them go missing.”
Walter choked out a laugh, his smile crooked. “I don’t know how to react to that.”
Out of sympathy or just because he wanted to, Vladimir stepped his way over everyone and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t have to think about returning it; it was natural at this point. “I know you’d be hurt if I said I wanted to.”
“I wouldn’t be hurt,” he whispered into his shoulder. “I just wouldn’t want you to regret it.”
“Well, I think you would’ve been right about that.”
“About what, Viper?”
“Me regretting it.” Vladimir pulled back, plucked one of the vials from his paws and threw it back towards Nova. She caught it with ease. He smiled at him as he said, “Come on, bottoms up.”
Walter obliged, quickly downing the vial. A quick, violent shudder snatched away his senses, his cheek tingling with pins and needles. Just as he went to touch his cheek, Nova shook her head. “Not the best idea, Walter. It’ll just tingle for the rest of the night. I’d suggest you leave it alone.”
Shuddering again, he nodded. “Okay.”
Strom stood up from the back of the crowd beside Nova, Honk near-dozing beside him. Both of them had cheeky smiles. “We’ve got a surprise for Torny, too, before we do anything else.”
Torny started and swivelled to face the carny. “Sorry, what?”
“Solomon,” he drawled, eyeing the Wildclaw with a mischievous expression, “do you want to do the honours?”
He didn’t answer, running off to grab what looked like a canvas from the backstage. Until he turned it around, Torny only smiled weakly. As soon as he saw it in full, he let out a small squeak and put his paw to his mouth to shut up. Vladimir threw Walter a knowing look. Walter chuckled.
This one he knew about.
On the canvas was an oil painting of the Circus in broad daylight. Figures of all breeds and sizes wandered around, peering at stalls, games and over at the caravans. In the centre was Torny, dressed in his paint-splattered dancing attire and throwing a wild, toothy smile into the world whilst talking to a silhouetted dragon. This wasn’t done by Torny’s own paws, so the next best thing must have been—
“I got a professional to do this,” Solomon said, smiling softly. “I’m not the best artist, as you know, so I had it done with the just-in-case money after getting permission from Shouhei. It’s why I was gone so long this morning.” As much as he was as dark as Vladimir, Walter could easily spot the flush in the dancer’s cheeks. “I had to pick it up and sneak it in without you noticing.”
Torny said nothing, a paw still over his mouth. When he peered at him, he could see the grateful tears threatening to roll down his cheeks.
He crouched down next to his son and grinned. “So, are you and Solomon an item yet?”
His son shot him the most venomous glare he could muster, and Walter couldn’t help but laugh. The resemblance between Vladimir and Torny with their glaring was uncanny. “Shut up, Dad!”
Aries whistled at him and nodded quickly, abruptly, as Torny crept towards the painting. They’re definitely an item, he mouthed.
Walter stood up and spoke loud enough for them all to hear, smiling playfully. He thought it best if his son had time alone to figure things out. “I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you all think?”
A wave of whooping and cheering erupted around the Circus.
“Get yourselves to the site before we change our minds!” Vladimir called.
Almost everyone scrambled to their feet and sped to the horseshoe of caravans, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Shouhei went with them with Walter’s permission, even though he knew he didn’t need it. The only ones to stay were Walter, Vladimir, Torny and Solomon. The latter couple huddled awkwardly beside the canvas, with Torny sat before it and Solomon holding it.
“Is it okay?”
Torny nodded, his digit tracing the figures in the painting. “You didn’t have to, you know.”
“I wanted to.”
“Are you two going to be alright?” Walter inquired, coming up to his son’s side.
“Yeah,” Torny murmured. His paws never left the canvas, though a few quick glances at Solomon told him enough.
He and his husband left them to it. They almost burst out in giggles as they headed towards the site, both fully aware of the tension between their son and his crush.
“I hope they figure themselves out soon,” Walter wheezed, leaning on Vladimir. “I’m going to die if they don’t.”
“I’ll join you,” Vladimir snickered. “I won’t be able to live if it takes them another week.”
Already, the fire pit in the site was lit and roaring, contained by a ring of runes. The circus decided to gather around it, scoffing down Julienne’s food—of which she set out on multiple picnic blankets with Naoki’s help—all while having the time of their lives. Some even began to dance around the fire to Tara’s singing, laughing and enjoying themselves.
For the first time in a long, long while, Walter knew they all felt safe. They had time to themselves, with no worry of work and payment.
“One last thing,” Vladimir said suddenly, tugging him to one side just before they entered the site.
Walter’s smile was gentle and warm as he spoke. “What’s up, Viper?”
Slowly, his husband tugged a medium-sized wooden box from his breeches’ pocket and handed it to him with a sheepish smirk. It was bronze in colour, with a silken purple ribbon tying the lid and box together. On it read the note; Tarquin Mask Makers.
“Open it.”
He did. Inside sat a pristine white mask, similar to his old one, except for the lack of elastic straps to keep the mask in place. It rested on a bed of purple. He gently tugged it out from it velvety confinement. Smooth porcelain brushed against his digits and pad, feeling strangely lighter than his last mask.
“Turn it over.”
Walter obeyed. Leaping up at him, one of Vladimir’s vows swirled on the inside of the mask; I promise to hold you up when you can’t be bothered.
He grinned at him. “So you do remember that you broke my mask, then.”
“Maybe,” Vladimir said, rolling his eyes. “I bought it whilst we were on holiday. At least you don’t have those stupid straps anymore.”
“How do I keep it on then?”
His husband raised his paws up and over his head in a rainbow shape, twiddling his digits. “Magic.”
It was Walter’s turn to roll his eyes. He slipped the mask on as Vladimir tugged him towards the fire pit, feeling much more like his normal self with it on. The cool surface of the mask distracted him from the pins and needles sweeping across the scar on his cheek, the weight of it familiar and relaxing.
He glanced around his circus with a smile. Lucian grinned alongside Shanty, Jharak pretending not to listen yet smiling with every laugh. Strom and Honk danced around the fire with Luna and Jibberish, laughing the night away. Hearth and Leo played with fire, messing with the few sparks that flew their way, changing their colour and shape and size. Even Nova and Sylvius seemed to be enjoying themselves. They relaxed on Nova’s porch, chatting away the hours, with Chipscale soon joining them.
Vladimir went to join Rose. He tackled her with a hug—the last two months without her presence hadn’t been easy on him—and sat with her beside Zechariah, leaving Walter to wander around the circle of dragons in thought. How did they manage all of this in two months, with so little funding? A thought crashed through his good mood like a meteorite. Are we in debt?
Shouhei whistled and beckoned him over from his porch—a swirl of oranges and greens, bamboo shoots painted on either side of the door behind him. The railings replicated the theme with ease. Like everyone else, his name swung from a sign above his head. However, his name was gold with an oil-like rainbow sheen rather than silver.
“Something wrong, Ringleader?” Shouhei inquired, his head cocked to one side. Unlike the rest of the circus, his eyes always looked tired, despite any glimmer of emotion swimming inside them. It must be his age.
“Just thinking,” Walter said with a sigh, sitting down next to him on the steps. “I love what they’ve—what you’ve all—done with the place, but...”
“But what?”
He gave him a quizzical, slightly concerned look. “How did you manage it all? It must’ve cost hundreds of thousands, if not over a million treasure, and when I left, the Vault barely had anything left—”
Shouhei sighed. “Torny didn’t tell you?”
“You know how he is.”
“Well, I’m sure you’d be even prouder of them all when you realise that they all worked multiple jobs to get this finished.”
Walter jaw would’ve dropped to the step he sat on if it wasn’t hinged to his skull. “You’re being serious?”
“I am.” He gestured towards Torny and Solomon, who made their way towards the horseshoe. You wouldn’t be able to tell if you weren’t looking, but the pair of them had their pinkie digits twined together. “Those two worked the hardest amongst everyone, with the rest of the teenagers making up for any lost time when they passed out. They all really wanted this dream to pull off.”
“My son keeps making me prouder and prouder,” he sighed, biting his lip to stop him from tearing up. It didn’t work too well. “All of them do.”
Shouhei chuckled as Walter brushed away a tear from underneath the mask. “And who’s that thanks to?”
“Oh, I can’t claim responsibility for what they did. After all, they didn’t do it for me.”
“How do you know?”
Walter smiled warmly at his associate. “Because I told my son to go chase the dream and the world he wants to live in. This—” He motioned towards the entirety of the Circus, from the caravans to the Fairgrounds, the Big Top to the group of individuals he called his family. “—is the world he wants, this is his dream. After all, he’s going to own this circus one day, and I know that this is only the beginning of what he wants it to be. All I can do is support and advise him.”
Shouhei smiled beneath his mask—if the rising of his cheeks told him anything—and nodded his acknowledgement. “That indeed sounds a lot like Torny. I’m sure he’ll be a fantastic ringleader—”
“That’s not what he wants.” Walter leaned against a post and watched as Torny dragged Vladimir up to dance and play around the fire. “I know full-well that he wants to be a commissioner, and I more than respect that. When it comes to it, we’ll get a ringmaster sorted for him.”
“You’re the kind of father I could’ve done with as a child, you know that?”
He laughed hoarsely and finally got up to leave, clapping Shouhei on the shoulder. “Thank you for telling me about that. I appreciate it.”
“Any time, Walter. You, unlike my last, are a brilliant partner to work with.”
Vladimir continued to dance around the fire with their son as a surge of temptation and confidence filled him from head to toe. He knew he had to prove just how thankful he was to his family. What better way to do that than grant them as much determination as he could share for their success?
“Oi, scoundrels!” He jumped up onto a nearby porch—Kalameet’s of grey and grape purple—and stomped his foot until everyone quietened and looked his way. It was only then when his face softened into a genuine smile. “I’m going to sound typical, or even boring, when I say this, but I just wanted to tell you all just how proud I am of what you’ve done.”
Clapping and cheers rose from the onlookers. He let the noise die down before continuing. “In honour of that, I wanted to toast to you all, despite the lack of drink.” Mockingly, he raised his paw as if he held a glass, yet when he spoke, he was honest. “We’ve had our ups and downs, as a circus. We’ve had it burnt down, we’ve had addicts, we’ve had our performers attacked and much more. Yet none of us gave in. Not one of us packed our bags and left as soon as things went haywire.
“We’ve shown every doubter who the weak ones are time and again, and tomorrow we’re going to cement it. Yet it couldn’t have been done without your efforts. I’m proud of what this Circus has become, and I’m honoured to know all of you, even if you cause much more havoc—” He shot the troublemakers—especially Jack and Aries, Lucian and Shanty, Nova and Enyo, Strom and Kapala—a pointed look and grinned as they gaped at him. “—than you think you are.”
He raised his paw higher into the air in a fist, yelling, “To Shatterskull; to all of you, who made my dream more than just a circus, who made it a family I’ll never forget, and to all the memories we have made and will continue to make!”
Walter leapt off the porch to a wild applause that mingled with hoots and howls of agreement from all around. Vladimir crashed into him, embracing him with Walter’s favourite smile, and Torny’s eyes shone bright enough for the Shade to spot them from the stars. His two favourite dragons, ones he would love until the end of his days, agreed with him. That was more than enough for him.
“Let the fun commence!” he hollered. The approving smile from his husband amidst the cheers made his grin grow softer. With a bow, he held his paw out to him. "Shall we join them, my dear?"
Vladimir's eyes glistened with newfound determination as he took it. "We shall."
They all celebrated until the dawn, the light gracing a brand new era of Shatterskull Circus.
They were home.
The faint smell of petrichor wafted into Walter’s nose, and he sighed in relief. For the past two months, he’d had the pleasure of encountering many familiar smells—the smell of the ocean as waves crashed against the shore, the scent of roses mingling together into one beautiful explosion. Freshly baked donuts and perfect dinners in taverns across Sornieth flashed in an instant, but no scent could ever compare to one; the unique smell of a—of his—Circus. He hoped it was finished and ready to go for tomorrow, their first showing in three months. How many dragons would turn up, much less return, after the fire happened was uncertain.
However, he had hope. You have to have some hope in running a circus, after all.
Digits intertwining with his, Walter looked towards the suspect. His gaze landed on his husband, whose casual elegance made him smirk. Vladimir strolled at his side, scarlet mane tied back into a loose ponytail and eyes that, for the first time in a while, held a bright, excited glimmer in the midst of their green. Depression hadn’t gone easy on him, especially during the early days of their “escape”, but the improvement was certainly remarkable. Perhaps a break was what they needed after all.
What a thought in a million a break was. During that time, they tried to remember the last time they’d had an official weekend away, let alone a two month holiday. Neither of them could think of a time after Torny turned five. The very thought of a break hadn’t crossed their minds in years, not with the circus taking up so much of their time.
“I wonder how Torny is,” Vladimir thought aloud, squeezing his paw.
“He never sounded worried in his letters,” Walter said, lips pursed in thought. “However, this is our son that we’re talking about.”
“That’s why I’m wondering.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.”
“He takes after us, Walter. I highly doubt he hasn’t taken anxiety from at least one of us.”
He chuckled, peering up at the dying sky. Orange leaked into deep blue and royal purple like watercolour paint, flecks of white glinting behind curtains of clouds. Dusk was always his favourite time of the day. It was a shame; too many months have gone by since he was last awake to witness it.
“So,” Vladimir began, a hint of amusement in his tone, “what state do you think the circus will be in?”
“I reckon they’ve burnt it down again in protest.”
He smiled at his husband’s hoarse laugh, watched as he moved to quieten it with his paw. Walter flicked his nose in response. Never again did he want Vladimir to cover his laugh. He’d spent the last two months falling in love with everything about his husband, including his laugh, and only recently did he begin to relax. In fact, he’d never realised how little Vladimir let himself go until their holiday.
A vow of his slipped into his mind, one he’d renewed at the beach late at night when they were soaked to the bone from a water fight, wrapped in blankets and eating marshmallows. ‘With this candle, I will light your way into darkness.’ That night was one of his favourites, merely because of Vladimir’s smile - crooked, huge and full of life. It was his rarest of grins after the fire, known also as his victorious smile from the many times it popped up when they played a card game. The last time it’d appeared before their holiday was just before his asthma attack.
Vladimir still hadn’t finished laughing when he spoke, rubbing his nose. “Do you think they want the entire treasury after building the Circus in our absence?”
Walter grinned. “Maybe they just don’t want us back. Perhaps Torny’s a better ringleader than we are.”
“If he’s anything like you, he won’t be that good.”
“How dare you!” he exclaimed, shoving his husband into some bushes that clawed at his breeches.
It wasn’t a good idea. Vladimir, after untangling himself, proceeded to chase him. With a shriek, he turned and ran. He didn’t dare spare his pursuer a second glance, not when the ground cracked open beside him, spewing rock shards and vines ready to trip him at any moment.
“That’s cheating!”
Vladimir cackled. “There aren’t any rules to abide by!”
That was true enough.
He leapt and bound over the reaching vines, stumbling only once when one suddenly reached for his wrist. In his panic, he allowed it to catch him in a grip of steel, the vine wrapping around his wrist at least five times and keeping him in place. It was then that he spied Vladimir and stopped his struggle.
His eyes were alight, one silver and one green. Runes that Walter didn’t understand danced at the tips of his digits, sketching them with the ease of a natural-born warlock, and a bright and playful smile dancing along his lips. It didn’t take a lot, he now realised, to make his husband smile.
“You look beautiful, my dear,” he drawled, attempting to pull the vine free as he neared.
Vladimir raised an eyebrow at him, his eyes beginning to dim. “What makes you say that?”
Walter grinned. “You’re smiling.”
“I think I’ll let you go for that comment.”
“What, you were going to leave me here?”
“No, I was just going to amuse myself with your struggling.”
He let loose a laugh, the vine slipping free from around his wrist. It stung, the vine had rubbed his wrist raw, but he didn’t mind so much. At least it was gone now, along with the crack to his side as if it’d never been. He stared at it for a few seconds, pulling a face, before Vladimir grabbed his wrist and turned him around so they could walk along.
He slowly slung his arm around Vladimir’s shoulders and planted a kiss in his mane. As always, it smelt of lavender.“How long until we get back, do you think?”
“Less than a quarter of an hour, surely,” he yawned. “I hope to get back to a lovely, warm bed.”
“Do you want me to carry you until then?” A mischievous grin spread across his lips, his arm drifting from his husband’s shoulders to his waist. “Like Idid on our wedding night?”
He laughed in the face of Vladimir’s blush. It was almost unnoticeable, save for the tint of pink drifting into the base of his scar. “You caught me off-guard, that doesn’t count!”
“’Course it does!”
“No!”
“Then what would count, my dear Viper?” he couldn’t help but inquire, condemning his husband to less-than-a-quarter-of-an-hour of embarrassment.
“If I’d have given consent,” he hissed back. As much as he tried to hide it, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.
“Well, that beats the purpose—” Before Vladimir could move, Walter hoisted him into his arms and against his chest, ignoring his squeals and commands to put him down. “—don’t you think?”
Vladimir glared at him—his signature “Viper” glare; the slight slits of his irises tightened into a thin line, the clouds in his eyes settling and ready to capture you—despite the grin on his face. “You cheeky b—!”
“Ah-ah, dearest. No cursing.”
“Put me down.”
“Why?”
“Put me down!”
Walter smirked, his grip on Vladimir loosening to let him go, just as he heard someone scream “Dad!” behind him. A second later, he felt a weight slam into his back, almost knocking him over. His husband took that opportunity to scramble out of his hold as feathers brushed against his neck, a few of them slightly bent, with what looked like paint dotting the arms that wrapped around his neck.
“Is it just me,” he sneered, nuzzling his son’s cheek as he kept him up in a piggyback, “or have you gotten heavier?”
“It’s just you and your weak arms, Dad,” Torny giggled, innocence in his voice.
“What are you doing all the way out here, Little Blue?” Vladimir inquired, coming up to Walter’s side to stroke their son’s head-feathers. “We’re still a bit away from the Circus.”
“I wanted to ask you both something.”
Walter raised an eyebrow at him, mouth pulled into a confused frown. “Surely it could’ve waited until we got back to the Circus, sweetheart. You’re a long way out.”
“I’m almost seventeen, I can take care of myself.”
He started, stammering. “I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just—”
Vladimir took over, much to his relief. “We know you can handle yourself and we have full confidence in you, but we’re at least fifteen minutes away from the circus. It’s a bit far to travel just for a question.”
Torny stayed silent for a few seconds before wriggling down Walter’s back. He stood before them; a pink flush stained his cheeks, with bits of red and yellow and every other colour splattering his clothes. “I was going to ask you if you could wear blindfolds until we got home.”
Where Walter tensed, Vladimir cocked his head in questioning. “Why would you want us to wear blindfolds?” the latter inquired.
“It’s a surprise,” Torny mumbled, his flush deepening. He brought forth two midnight-black blindfolds from a small bag he wore.
Vladimir clutched Walter’s paw, a small smile playing at his lips. “I think you might be right, Walter. I think they burnt the Circus down in protest.”
Their son snorted before handing them the strips of fabric. “I promise it’s a good surprise and nothing to do with the Circus burning down again.”
*
At last, they came to a halt. Walter sat on the ground and awaited permission to remove his blindfold. Not only did it make him uncomfortable not to see, but also because he needed to remove some of the many stones wedged into the sole of his foot. Vladimir sat with him, evident by the groan and the sudden weight on his shoulder.
“Can we take them off yet, Little Blue?” Walter groaned, rubbing at his foot tentatively. “I’ve got a stone rave on my foot.”
“Not yet.” He didn’t miss the giggle that followed, cheeky and quiet.
“Torny...”
“Just give me chance, Dad!”
Walter gave up and scratched at his foot, removing as many stones as he could with each caress of his claws against skin. He kept an ear out for Vladimir, hoping he wouldn’t fall asleep on his shoulder. It’d be awkward to wake him up again, especially since the pair of them desperately wanted a nap.
Thudding footsteps sounded next to him, and a small digit poked his shoulder. “Can you stand up?”
“Torny, sweetheart,” Vladimir piped up before he could answer. “What’s this about?”
“Just trust me.”
They stood up, Walter swaying slightly on his feet, just as Torny gripped his paw and lead him forward to... somewhere. During their walk, he hadn’t bothered counting the seconds or steps. His son’s anxiety kept distracting him. A gentle squeeze seemed to relax him every now and then. It never lasted long.
Within a few steps, they stopped abruptly and then came the gentle command; “You can take them off, now.”
At first, after removing the fabric, black doused the world with only the stars to offer comfort. Coloured lights blinded him. The scent of fairly fresh Starwood threw him off his senses. Stones still stabbed into his feet. Then, as his eyes adjusted, his jaw almost dropped to the ground.
This can’t be the same Circus I saw two months ago.
Swinging above him was the Shatterskull banner, in its signature gold and red colours; Shatterskull Circus, the home of everything but normal. Two torches kept its colours vibrant even in the night, highlighting gold with its dancing green flames, the same of which lined the very path he and his husband stood on.
He had the breath sucked out of him as soon as he looked around. Bright light flickered all around him, lighting the Circus up and sending shadows sprawling all over in the darkness. Green flames jumped and twirled on either side of the path inside lampposts and on the tops of signposts. Signs pointed to the Fairgrounds and the Main Tent. Other signs, lending arrivals more details of the Circus, hung lower from curved steel arms below them; most of them speckled with different coloured paints.
“I...” He didn’t know what to say. How could he? He had to pinch his forearm just to make sure he wasn’t having some kind of lucid dream.
“Is it okay?” Torny asked hesitantly, rubbing his arm. Standing just a few feet away from them, he looked almost like a child again; nervous and fed up with constant moving but never admitting as such.
“Okay?” Vladimir cried from his side, coming up to their son and wrapping his arms around him. His wings followed soon after and enveloped him. “Torny, this is amazing.”
A small smile stretched across their son’s face. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Follow me.”
Walter stared ahead of Torny as he led Vladimir towards a shadow-enclosed area. His heart fluttered. It took him a few seconds to register him walking towards it. All of our homes have a designated area!
Following slowly, he stared at each home individually. All of them sat in a horseshoe around a filled fire pit, staring into it. No one caravan was the same; they all had different colour palettes, names, pictures and more. The first one he came to—Sylvius’s caravan—was a lime green colour with black paintings of plants and white ones of potion vials. His name swirled along the side in bright, glittering silver, and again on a swinging sign above the porch, flickering with the help of torches beside each caravan.
Many of the other caravans followed the same design, but also not. Aries’ caravan had red and brown flowing from every corner, with a creamy-white skull like the ones on his kilt sat behind a black, swirling font. Nova had the natural white of Starwood peeking through behind black crows carrying berries and crosses, her name forming from painted ivy; Leo with spurts of orange and black—like lit coals—flickering in the torchlight beside, bringing his name to life. Honk’s and Strom’s shared their matching scheme of orange and purple in waving streaks, and yet explosions, blades and black soot-like stains littered Jack’s and Gulliver’s.
Then there was the Azama caravan. He could tell it was theirs from a mile off, maybe more in broad daylight. The door, just like their old caravan, had Walter’s old family symbol on the front; a white and red rose curling around a harpe. It was the sign of fighter heritage—originally a war family—and the rose was their prevalence. The symbol held little meaning now. If anything, it was just a pretty picture to look at.
Wandering to the side of the caravan, he almost gasped. Red stained the Starwood walls, drifting into yellow and then blue. Red for Vladimir, blue for Torny, and yellow for me, he acknowledged, trailing his digits against the silver lettering of their names. A small, smeared paw-print accompanied them.
“This is beautiful,” he murmured, mostly to himself as he placed his own paw over the print. It was evidently Torny’s; his son’s paws were absurdly cutesy compared to his own. He noticed Torny standing a couple of feet away from him, making a show of pretending not to notice his words. “You did all of this?”
“I had help,” Torny admitted, blushing as his head-feathers fell flat against his neck.
“But you did most of this, didn’t you?”
He nodded. A smile grew. “I didn’t know what to do for our caravan, but I know you and Pa like the dusk, so I tried to recreate it with our colours. Is it okay?”
“It’s beautiful,” he repeated, grinning down at his son. “I’m so proud of you.”
Giggling, Torny took his paws and asked him, “Do you want to see the Fairgrounds?”
“I’d love to.”
It didn’t take them long to get there, sprinting over spiky gravel and laughing as they went. With a click of his son’s digits, the torches surrounding the Fairgrounds flickered to life and revealed a sight almost enough to make him fall to his knees.
Before him towered a huge, white and circular machine littered with specks of light as if pulled from the sun and placed there by the Lightweaver. Not a single hint of rust came to light. Colourful carriages swung in the slight midnight breeze, all of them different colours like the caravans with glass acting as a barrier between the inside and the outside. Comfortable-looking seats sat inside without a single crease insight. This isn’t even a second-hand machine... it’s brand new.
“That’s a Big Wheel,” he murmured. The last time he’d checked, a Big Wheel cost almost too much money; so much more than the Circus had at once given recent times. How it got there was his biggest inquiry. It was one he daren’t ask his son; he knew he wouldn’t get a straight answer.
“It is,” Torny confirmed, running up to a white podium on a brilliant stage of red, Shatterskull’s banner flapping on the front. A skull with glowing amber eyes stared him down from the centre of the Big Wheel. It willed him to come on board, to try and conquer it. “Do you want me to turn it on?”
Walter grinned. “Do fish swim in water?”
Snorting, his son pressed something on the podium and the machine flared to life. Not a single creak could he hear, no grating washed over the breeze. It spun smoothly without a single jolt or snap. He couldn’t resist the temptation to fly to the top and walk on it, giggling like a hatchling. The cold metal bit into his feet, the breeze much stronger up there, and the ground loomed underneath him like he was staring down into a canyon. It didn’t sway him. He loved it up here, so much so that as soon as Vladimir entered the Fairgrounds, he begged him to join him.
“Walt, it looks dangerous up there!” Vladimir called. Even from high up, he could see the worry in his mismatched eyes.
“Come join me, Viper!” he yelled, giggling giddily. “It’s amazing!”
After a couple of seconds, he found his husband grinning with him. It only made his brighter. “I’ll join you in a minute!”
Nodding, he stared out over the Fairgrounds and sighed. From up there, he could see Strom’s carnival games; some were claw games, others were popping balloons and knocking down coconuts. Each one had a special rigging spell on it, one he’d learnt before he arrived in the Circus. Strom thought he didn’t know about the rigging, and Walter never brought it up. As long as he was kind every once in a while, he didn’t mind what he did.
Jazzi’s Slushy Stand propped itself up over by the entrance to the Fairgrounds, the orange and green stripes vibrant in the light of the Big Wheel. Zechariah’s little stand towered opposite in red and cream, velvet curtains inside the box to keep the inside a secret, and between them rose Julienne’s food stand with her disgusting fish recipes and Tonna’s fortune stand with her vague words and twisting magic.
“Hey there, ringleader.”
Walter turned and smiled at his husband, who strolled along the top of the Wheel beside him, arms outstretched for balance. He gently clasped onto Vladimir’s paw and did the same, giggling when they stumbled a few times on thin air. Up there, he felt closer to the sky, and a few times reached up just to see if he could touch the stars. He had to admit, he didn’t want to get down. He wanted to stay up there for good.
“Did you find out how the Big Wheel even got here?” he called over the breeze, tracing a constellation with his digit. “It’s always been too expensive whenever we’ve looked.”
“He didn’t let on,” was Vladimir’s simply reply. “He said he’ll tell us later.”
“I hope he didn’t steal it.”
His husband snorted. “Yeah, because you can fit an entire Big Wheel in your pocket.”
“I didn’t mean it like that!”
They laughed on top of the Big Wheel until Torny called them down a minute later. As much as he didn’t want to, he flew towards the ground and landed with a soft thud, a cloud of earth flying up to greet him. Just as Vladimir landed beside him, the wheel slowed to a smooth halt, the lights died in the eyes of the skull. The Fairgrounds drifted into darkness once more.
“I hope that’s everything,” Walter sighed, smirking at his son. “It’ll be impossible to make this up to you on your birthday.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that, but there’s still some more.”
The pair of them gawked at Torny, who gestured for them to follow him and sped off towards the Big Top. Vladimir groaned when he was out of earshot. “How much has he got left to show us?”
“I don’t know, but he’s outdone himself big time.”
They followed as quickly as they could with exhaustion weighing them down and watched as Torny disappeared into the main tent. Out of everything—from the caravan site to the Fairgrounds to the caravans themselves—the only thing that hadn’t changed was the tent. At least, he hoped that was the case.
He was already hundreds of thousands of treasure indebted to the entire circus.
“Beauty before age,” Vladimir drawled beside him, holding back the main tent flap and gesturing for him to go inside.
Walter snarled at him with a grin and made his way inside. “You know that you got that statement wrong, right?”
“Yeah, I know.”
Darkness greeted the pair of them. The lanterns they had hanging from the centre posts before were unlit, with only the moonlight weaving its way through the open flaps to help them see. Vladimir quickly gripped onto his arm. He wasn’t scared of the dark, but having only one eye to see with never made things easy for him.
“Torny?” Walter called into the black, staggering forward. He had to use his tail to make sure he wouldn’t step on anything. “Where are you?”
No sound answered him.
Rolling his eyes, Walter turned back to Vladimir, whose misty eyes were filled with uncertainty.
“You okay, Viper?” he whispered, peering around the tent with prying eyes.
He shook his head. “This isn’t fun.”
Just as his husband finished his statement, they made their way into the centre. Light flashed above them. Blinded, Walter stumbled and rubbed frantically at his eyes. It hurt to look around and check if Vladimir was alright. With the dots dancing in his eyes, he couldn’t see him.
When he looked up, the entire Circus sat before him. At his confused expression, they all laughed, and yelled, “Welcome back!”
“So none of that was the welcome bit?” he said, gesturing to the world outside. “It was just you guys?”
Some of them snorted at that, others just shook their heads like they were already fed up with him. Either way, it made him smile until his gaze landed on Vladimir. He stood behind them all, rubbing his eyes with his wrists, with a wide grin plastered on his face. He looked almost proud of himself.
Walter pointed his finger at him in an accusing fashion. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”
“For a while,” his husband admitted, finally letting his paws drop back to his sides. “I brought it up with Torny before we went away after seeing the blueprints someone must’ve made.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Vladimir smirked. “We all know you love surprises, my dear.”
“So...” He flailed his paws around as if looking for the right way to describe his question before giving up and blurting out, “What was the flashing light?”
“Look up.”
He frowned, taking the initiative to look around. Everything looked the same, but above him floated expensive pixie lanterns, all with stained glass ranging from red to green to purple that threw colour around the tent. He remembered Tara asking about them for Kalameet’s performance, and having to turn it down because of funding.
“How do you find your new-and-improved Circus, Walter?” Shouhei inquired, clapping him on the shoulder with a gentle look in his eyes. He seemed to miss his startled jump.
Walter gave him a soft smirk in return. “I haven’t got the words to describe it, Shouhei.”
“We had everything warded while you were away, too,” Lady Jack cried excitedly, practically jumping on Gulliver’s shoulders. “We’ve got protection, now.”
“From what?”
She pursed her lips in thought. “Against malicious intenders, and the caravans were protected against anyone who isn’t invited or doesn’t already live there, I think...”
The reassuring nod from Hearth widened her grin.
“Plus—” Nova stood up across the way with that damned peach-coloured potion in her paws. “—with Sylvius’s help, I figured out a way to make everyone’s burns and scars disappear.”
As much as he didn’t want it to, his heart dropped into his stomach. A quick glance at his husband prevailed next to nothing, as he stood emotionless behind everyone else, and noticed the two vials in her paws. One for him and his burn on his cheek, one for Vladimir.
“Want them?”
He sighed. “Sure.”
Walter only just caught them when she threw them his way, and hesitantly offered one to Vladimir. “Would you like one?”
His husband thought about it, biting his lip. When he grinned, his breathing almost hitched. Many times had they talked about Vladimir’s scars—how Vladimir thought they were ugly and unnecessary and gave everyone the wrong impression—and every time he’d never believe him when he told him that scars weren’t meant to be beautiful, that they made him look ******. Of course, Walter wouldn’t deny him the opportunity to get rid of them if he so wanted. He’d just hate for him to do it through low self-esteem.
“You know what, love?” Vladimir deliberately paused, a knowing smile playing at his lips when he finally shook his head. “My scars are part of who I am. I’d hate to see them go missing.”
Walter choked out a laugh, his smile crooked. “I don’t know how to react to that.”
Out of sympathy or just because he wanted to, Vladimir stepped his way over everyone and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t have to think about returning it; it was natural at this point. “I know you’d be hurt if I said I wanted to.”
“I wouldn’t be hurt,” he whispered into his shoulder. “I just wouldn’t want you to regret it.”
“Well, I think you would’ve been right about that.”
“About what, Viper?”
“Me regretting it.” Vladimir pulled back, plucked one of the vials from his paws and threw it back towards Nova. She caught it with ease. He smiled at him as he said, “Come on, bottoms up.”
Walter obliged, quickly downing the vial. A quick, violent shudder snatched away his senses, his cheek tingling with pins and needles. Just as he went to touch his cheek, Nova shook her head. “Not the best idea, Walter. It’ll just tingle for the rest of the night. I’d suggest you leave it alone.”
Shuddering again, he nodded. “Okay.”
Strom stood up from the back of the crowd beside Nova, Honk near-dozing beside him. Both of them had cheeky smiles. “We’ve got a surprise for Torny, too, before we do anything else.”
Torny started and swivelled to face the carny. “Sorry, what?”
“Solomon,” he drawled, eyeing the Wildclaw with a mischievous expression, “do you want to do the honours?”
He didn’t answer, running off to grab what looked like a canvas from the backstage. Until he turned it around, Torny only smiled weakly. As soon as he saw it in full, he let out a small squeak and put his paw to his mouth to shut up. Vladimir threw Walter a knowing look. Walter chuckled.
This one he knew about.
On the canvas was an oil painting of the Circus in broad daylight. Figures of all breeds and sizes wandered around, peering at stalls, games and over at the caravans. In the centre was Torny, dressed in his paint-splattered dancing attire and throwing a wild, toothy smile into the world whilst talking to a silhouetted dragon. This wasn’t done by Torny’s own paws, so the next best thing must have been—
“I got a professional to do this,” Solomon said, smiling softly. “I’m not the best artist, as you know, so I had it done with the just-in-case money after getting permission from Shouhei. It’s why I was gone so long this morning.” As much as he was as dark as Vladimir, Walter could easily spot the flush in the dancer’s cheeks. “I had to pick it up and sneak it in without you noticing.”
Torny said nothing, a paw still over his mouth. When he peered at him, he could see the grateful tears threatening to roll down his cheeks.
He crouched down next to his son and grinned. “So, are you and Solomon an item yet?”
His son shot him the most venomous glare he could muster, and Walter couldn’t help but laugh. The resemblance between Vladimir and Torny with their glaring was uncanny. “Shut up, Dad!”
Aries whistled at him and nodded quickly, abruptly, as Torny crept towards the painting. They’re definitely an item, he mouthed.
Walter stood up and spoke loud enough for them all to hear, smiling playfully. He thought it best if his son had time alone to figure things out. “I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you all think?”
A wave of whooping and cheering erupted around the Circus.
“Get yourselves to the site before we change our minds!” Vladimir called.
Almost everyone scrambled to their feet and sped to the horseshoe of caravans, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Shouhei went with them with Walter’s permission, even though he knew he didn’t need it. The only ones to stay were Walter, Vladimir, Torny and Solomon. The latter couple huddled awkwardly beside the canvas, with Torny sat before it and Solomon holding it.
“Is it okay?”
Torny nodded, his digit tracing the figures in the painting. “You didn’t have to, you know.”
“I wanted to.”
“Are you two going to be alright?” Walter inquired, coming up to his son’s side.
“Yeah,” Torny murmured. His paws never left the canvas, though a few quick glances at Solomon told him enough.
He and his husband left them to it. They almost burst out in giggles as they headed towards the site, both fully aware of the tension between their son and his crush.
“I hope they figure themselves out soon,” Walter wheezed, leaning on Vladimir. “I’m going to die if they don’t.”
“I’ll join you,” Vladimir snickered. “I won’t be able to live if it takes them another week.”
Already, the fire pit in the site was lit and roaring, contained by a ring of runes. The circus decided to gather around it, scoffing down Julienne’s food—of which she set out on multiple picnic blankets with Naoki’s help—all while having the time of their lives. Some even began to dance around the fire to Tara’s singing, laughing and enjoying themselves.
For the first time in a long, long while, Walter knew they all felt safe. They had time to themselves, with no worry of work and payment.
“One last thing,” Vladimir said suddenly, tugging him to one side just before they entered the site.
Walter’s smile was gentle and warm as he spoke. “What’s up, Viper?”
Slowly, his husband tugged a medium-sized wooden box from his breeches’ pocket and handed it to him with a sheepish smirk. It was bronze in colour, with a silken purple ribbon tying the lid and box together. On it read the note; Tarquin Mask Makers.
“Open it.”
He did. Inside sat a pristine white mask, similar to his old one, except for the lack of elastic straps to keep the mask in place. It rested on a bed of purple. He gently tugged it out from it velvety confinement. Smooth porcelain brushed against his digits and pad, feeling strangely lighter than his last mask.
“Turn it over.”
Walter obeyed. Leaping up at him, one of Vladimir’s vows swirled on the inside of the mask; I promise to hold you up when you can’t be bothered.
He grinned at him. “So you do remember that you broke my mask, then.”
“Maybe,” Vladimir said, rolling his eyes. “I bought it whilst we were on holiday. At least you don’t have those stupid straps anymore.”
“How do I keep it on then?”
His husband raised his paws up and over his head in a rainbow shape, twiddling his digits. “Magic.”
It was Walter’s turn to roll his eyes. He slipped the mask on as Vladimir tugged him towards the fire pit, feeling much more like his normal self with it on. The cool surface of the mask distracted him from the pins and needles sweeping across the scar on his cheek, the weight of it familiar and relaxing.
He glanced around his circus with a smile. Lucian grinned alongside Shanty, Jharak pretending not to listen yet smiling with every laugh. Strom and Honk danced around the fire with Luna and Jibberish, laughing the night away. Hearth and Leo played with fire, messing with the few sparks that flew their way, changing their colour and shape and size. Even Nova and Sylvius seemed to be enjoying themselves. They relaxed on Nova’s porch, chatting away the hours, with Chipscale soon joining them.
Vladimir went to join Rose. He tackled her with a hug—the last two months without her presence hadn’t been easy on him—and sat with her beside Zechariah, leaving Walter to wander around the circle of dragons in thought. How did they manage all of this in two months, with so little funding? A thought crashed through his good mood like a meteorite. Are we in debt?
Shouhei whistled and beckoned him over from his porch—a swirl of oranges and greens, bamboo shoots painted on either side of the door behind him. The railings replicated the theme with ease. Like everyone else, his name swung from a sign above his head. However, his name was gold with an oil-like rainbow sheen rather than silver.
“Something wrong, Ringleader?” Shouhei inquired, his head cocked to one side. Unlike the rest of the circus, his eyes always looked tired, despite any glimmer of emotion swimming inside them. It must be his age.
“Just thinking,” Walter said with a sigh, sitting down next to him on the steps. “I love what they’ve—what you’ve all—done with the place, but...”
“But what?”
He gave him a quizzical, slightly concerned look. “How did you manage it all? It must’ve cost hundreds of thousands, if not over a million treasure, and when I left, the Vault barely had anything left—”
Shouhei sighed. “Torny didn’t tell you?”
“You know how he is.”
“Well, I’m sure you’d be even prouder of them all when you realise that they all worked multiple jobs to get this finished.”
Walter jaw would’ve dropped to the step he sat on if it wasn’t hinged to his skull. “You’re being serious?”
“I am.” He gestured towards Torny and Solomon, who made their way towards the horseshoe. You wouldn’t be able to tell if you weren’t looking, but the pair of them had their pinkie digits twined together. “Those two worked the hardest amongst everyone, with the rest of the teenagers making up for any lost time when they passed out. They all really wanted this dream to pull off.”
“My son keeps making me prouder and prouder,” he sighed, biting his lip to stop him from tearing up. It didn’t work too well. “All of them do.”
Shouhei chuckled as Walter brushed away a tear from underneath the mask. “And who’s that thanks to?”
“Oh, I can’t claim responsibility for what they did. After all, they didn’t do it for me.”
“How do you know?”
Walter smiled warmly at his associate. “Because I told my son to go chase the dream and the world he wants to live in. This—” He motioned towards the entirety of the Circus, from the caravans to the Fairgrounds, the Big Top to the group of individuals he called his family. “—is the world he wants, this is his dream. After all, he’s going to own this circus one day, and I know that this is only the beginning of what he wants it to be. All I can do is support and advise him.”
Shouhei smiled beneath his mask—if the rising of his cheeks told him anything—and nodded his acknowledgement. “That indeed sounds a lot like Torny. I’m sure he’ll be a fantastic ringleader—”
“That’s not what he wants.” Walter leaned against a post and watched as Torny dragged Vladimir up to dance and play around the fire. “I know full-well that he wants to be a commissioner, and I more than respect that. When it comes to it, we’ll get a ringmaster sorted for him.”
“You’re the kind of father I could’ve done with as a child, you know that?”
He laughed hoarsely and finally got up to leave, clapping Shouhei on the shoulder. “Thank you for telling me about that. I appreciate it.”
“Any time, Walter. You, unlike my last, are a brilliant partner to work with.”
Vladimir continued to dance around the fire with their son as a surge of temptation and confidence filled him from head to toe. He knew he had to prove just how thankful he was to his family. What better way to do that than grant them as much determination as he could share for their success?
“Oi, scoundrels!” He jumped up onto a nearby porch—Kalameet’s of grey and grape purple—and stomped his foot until everyone quietened and looked his way. It was only then when his face softened into a genuine smile. “I’m going to sound typical, or even boring, when I say this, but I just wanted to tell you all just how proud I am of what you’ve done.”
Clapping and cheers rose from the onlookers. He let the noise die down before continuing. “In honour of that, I wanted to toast to you all, despite the lack of drink.” Mockingly, he raised his paw as if he held a glass, yet when he spoke, he was honest. “We’ve had our ups and downs, as a circus. We’ve had it burnt down, we’ve had addicts, we’ve had our performers attacked and much more. Yet none of us gave in. Not one of us packed our bags and left as soon as things went haywire.
“We’ve shown every doubter who the weak ones are time and again, and tomorrow we’re going to cement it. Yet it couldn’t have been done without your efforts. I’m proud of what this Circus has become, and I’m honoured to know all of you, even if you cause much more havoc—” He shot the troublemakers—especially Jack and Aries, Lucian and Shanty, Nova and Enyo, Strom and Kapala—a pointed look and grinned as they gaped at him. “—than you think you are.”
He raised his paw higher into the air in a fist, yelling, “To Shatterskull; to all of you, who made my dream more than just a circus, who made it a family I’ll never forget, and to all the memories we have made and will continue to make!”
Walter leapt off the porch to a wild applause that mingled with hoots and howls of agreement from all around. Vladimir crashed into him, embracing him with Walter’s favourite smile, and Torny’s eyes shone bright enough for the Shade to spot them from the stars. His two favourite dragons, ones he would love until the end of his days, agreed with him. That was more than enough for him.
“Let the fun commence!” he hollered. The approving smile from his husband amidst the cheers made his grin grow softer. With a bow, he held his paw out to him. "Shall we join them, my dear?"
Vladimir's eyes glistened with newfound determination as he took it. "We shall."
They all celebrated until the dawn, the light gracing a brand new era of Shatterskull Circus.
Made by Ozie in "Ozie's Lore Shop!"
.)
