Homeward (Ch. 32)
[Serial] A winged Elf soars, a comely giant tumbles, and an Imperial Watchman loses his way.
Table of Contents
Part 1: The Grove’s Bounty: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11
Part 2: A Mayor’s Ransom: Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24
Part 3: Armageddon: Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31
Previously, after bandits took over the village, the mayor and the two Imperial Watchmen split up to rally aid from the surrounding communities. Mayor Oslo visited the nearby town of Getty to recruit Ryld’s old mercenary company to the cause. Now, we head the Dark Moon Circus performing at the cross roads to catch up with Abaddon’s old friends.
Rielle soared across the arena, her wings beating double time. She dipped her arm to veer across the stands, only for the crowd to meet her with stony silence. True, the seats had been difficult to fill lately, but she could usually count on the front rows for excitement.
Tonight, they all sat still as statues. If it weren’t for a single enthusiastic fan in the center, she’d have worried some noxious gas had passed through the audience and put them all to sleep.
“Rielle scouts the skies after her triumphant defeat of Atlas the Titan,” Ringmaster Dogen shouted to the crowd, recapping their last week’s show. “But one warning hangs fresh in our flying heroine’s mind, that the terrible titan had a sister living in these mountains.”
Only a single gasp echoed from the stands. Rielle shielded her eyes against the arena lanterns, searching the stage entrances.
“Come on, A, that’s your cue,” Rielle whispered.
After an uncomfortably long silence, clomping footsteps echoed from below. “You killed my brother!”
Finally, Atlas stepped into the arena—although looking quite different from his appearance the prior week. Thanks to the Girdle of Femininity, full bosoms had sprouted from his chest and a set of luscious golden locks from his head.
“Could it be?” Dogen gasped. “Tethys the Titan has come seeking vengeance!”
Atlas roared, pulling open a sack of wooden hoops. “Now, little Elf, you face my rings of doom!”
One by one, he removed the hoops from the sack and spun them around a long pole. When he’d gathered seven spinning at once, he thrust the pole forward and cast a single hoop toward Rielle. It spun upright in the air.
Rielle folded her wings and passed through the center, a maneuver that required a few moments of free fall. By the time she unfurled her wings again, Atlas had thrown three more.
As the next set spun toward her, Dogen made a furtive flick of his wrist. Seemingly out of nowhere, at least to those who missed the gesture, the hoops caught flame. Their ringmaster always knew how to raise the stakes when their routine grew stale.
Rielle bit her lip as she aligned her descent. A single inch off center and she’d spend all night plucking singed feathers off her back. But the challenge brought out the best in her, she dove through each ring with aplomb.
This was among the hardest routines in their arsenal, both for Atlas and for herself. They’d been working harder than ever to ramp up their routine now that they were a performer. But it seemed the more they worked, the duller the crowds became.
Atlas unleashed his ultimate attack, three more rings overlapping so that they only left a tiny gap for Rielle to pass through. Every second, the formation tightened, closing the gap like flower petals at night.
Rielle waited for the precise moment of alignment when she could pass through, then flipped herself to dive feet first. She skated through just before the flames swallowed the negative space, and slammed her foot into Atlas’s forehead with all her might.
The giant stood unmoved.
“Hey, I just kicked you, ya big dummy,” Rielle whispered.
“Oh, sorry,” Atlas replied and toppled onto his back.
“She’s done it,” Dogen shouted. “Our fantastic flying Elf has emerged victorious against the terrible Tethys.”
Rielle raised her fists in the air, her cheeks peeling back in a puppet smile. Only one set of applause shared in her victory celebrations. Honestly, at this rate, she might have preferred total silence.
Once the arena lanterns guttered off, she flopped down. Heaving a heavy sigh, she stretched across her colleague’s belly as if it were an enormous beanbag chair.
“What’s wrong, Rielle?” Atlas asked.
“Don’t you feel like people don’t love our shows as much as they used to? Even though we’re working so hard. People aren’t showing up, and the ones who show up don’t applaud.”
“Dogen always says that a performance’s true quality isn’t measured in applause,” Atlas replied sagely.
“Yeah, but he never says that when the crowd goes wild. Isn’t the point of doing this to entertain people?”
Atlas rubbed his temple. “Maybe they’re having trouble following along. Do you think they forgot about how you fought my um—brother last week?”
“Could be. Our stories are getting more complex.” Rielle sighed again, this time with a little less frustration and a little more heartache. “Abaddon was really good at coming up with storylines that people liked. It’s just a fact that more people show up whenever he’s around. Besides, as strange as it sounds, I think our acrobatics routine is less impressive with someone who can actually fly.”
“Well, he said he’d only be gone a few weeks. Pretty soon, we’ll be together again and can come up with all kinds of new routines.”
“I’m not sure. I overheard him and Ringmaster Dogen talking. It sounded like he might leave for a long time. I think maybe…he’s outgrown us.” Rielle cast a sidelong glance at her giant colleague. “Figuratively, I mean.”
The arena went completely quiet as their conversation died down. Performers came and went at the Dark Moon Circus all the time. Goodbyes were a fact of life in this line of work, especially for someone as long-lived as Rielle. Yet still, although their time together was short, part of her had still hoped that she’d found a companion who could call the circus home.
A loud sob echoed across the empty circus tent and shook Rielle from her reverie.
“Aww, don’t cry, buddy,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll come back to visit.”
“You’re right,” Atlas replied. “But…I wasn’t crying.”
Sure enough, the sobs continued. They were coming from the front row. Rielle flew over to investigate, while Atlas plucked a lantern off the tent ceiling and relit it.
The guest in the front row wore Imperial Watch uniform. At least from the neck down. A soup kettle rested over his head, which seemed uncharacteristic for the Imperial Watch. Also, he was bawling his eyes out.
“Hey there,” Rielle said softly, “what’s your name?”
“S-stanley,” the watchman blubbered.
“I didn’t scare you, did I, Stanley?” Atlas asked. “See, it’s all make believe.”
He snapped open the clasps on his Girdle of Femininity. As the garment slid off, his bosom receded into his belly fat, and his golden locks vanished from his cue-ball head.
“It’s n-not that,” Stanley replied. “I can tell the difference between real people and make believe. It’s just that my friends and I are lost and don’t know what to do.”
“Your friends?” Rielle asked, brow furrowing. Other than the three of them and Dogen packing up, the tent was dead silent. Atlas raised the lantern overhead. The entire first two rows were filled with scarecrows. No wonder the crowd had been so quiet.
“Y-yup,” Stanley said. “I rescued them from a fire. But now they’re all homeless since we had to burn down the mayor’s grove. I figured they could use some entertainment after everything they’ve been through tonight.”
“Erm—that’s…sweet of you,” Rielle said.
He replied with a loud sob. “Your show was so inspiring, I forgot all my troubles. If a little Elf like you could defeat a big giant, maybe there’d be hope for our village against that big bandit army. Then I remembered it was all pretend, and I’ve still got to figure out a way to free the rest of these villagers.”
Rielle took his hand in her own. She’d never been keen on the Imperial Watch and often witnessed their abuses on the road. Yet even she couldn’t deny the purity of this one’s intentions.
“I’m not sure your coming here tonight was the wisest choice, under the circumstances. But I’m really glad you did, Stanley. Your compliment meant the world to me.”
“Shucks. Everyone was talking so fast, I got confused. Someone mentioned a temple, and the Mercenary’s Guild, and then Abaddon said something about the circus—”
“Wait.” Rielle squeezed the Watchman’s hand so tight, she almost broke his knuckles. “Did you say Abaddon?”
“Yeah. He’s my friend. Well, actually, we originally wanted to arrest him for murder. But then we found out he helped some scarecrows. Then the mayor got kidnapped and—”
“Where is Abaddon now? Is he in danger?”
Stanley freed his hand to scratch his nose. “I’m not sure. We all split up when the bandits took over the village.”
“Bandits!?”
“What’s going on here?” Ringmaster Dogen approached, drawn in by the commotion. “No one’s asking for a refund, I hope.”
“Master Dogen. This man knows Abaddon. He says their village got taken over by bandits.”
The kobold ringmaster raised a tiny claw to his chin. “Bandits, you say?”
“Yeah,” Stanley said. “Their leader is some guy named Grimtooth.”
“Oh.” Dogen shuddered. “I’ve heard the name. A nasty fellow if the talk is to be believed. He leads the largest bandit army in the heartland.”
“We have to go help, Master Dogen,” Rielle shouted. “Abaddon could be in trouble.”
“Well, Abaddon is a member of our family—even in abstention. Besides, given how many tickets this young watchman bought, I feel like we owe him some help.”
Atlas gave a hard swallow and cast worried glances at his colleagues. “But we’re not soldiers. How are we supposed to fight some giant bandit army?”
Rielle stomped her foot. “Come on, you big scaredy cat. You’re the biggest person here. If a little kobold like Ringmaster Dogen isn’t afraid, you shouldn’t be either.”
“It is true that we are no mighty troop, but morale and tactics win battles more often than martial prowess. There’s a reason they call it a theater of war, after all. And if there’s one thing we know how to do at the Dark Moon Circus…” With a flick of the ringmaster’s hand, the entire circus tent lifted off the ground and swirled into the bottom of his top hat. “…it’s putting on a show.”