Demon Stories

Saya: Ophelia, the Flying Swan, 2000 & 1892, America

Saya

Ophelia, the Flying Swan

2000 & 1892, United States of America

"Hurry hurry, its going to start! Ah! Excited!" 

Beau was bouncing up and down across the Midway, his golden blonde curls bouncing with him. I chuckled and raced behind him, making a chase to cause him to be more excited. Like magic, I caught his trembling body and he shrieked high, causing a lot of other people to stare at us in wonder. 

"Saya, Saya, I never want to go anywhere without you! I'd rather be here with no one else!" Beau proclaimed, as we walked hurriedly towards the big circus tent. His warm hand radiated kindness and joy up my arm and to my heart. But as a flash, a sudden memory. 

"Seiya, I'd rather be here with no one else!" called out a beautiful, tiny young lady with pale blonde short curls to her chin, hair as light as the stars, the lights of the circus tent beyond her playing off her body to make her look as if she truly shone.

My heart shuddered to a stop. I stopped walking. Beau's hand pulled on mine as he realized I had stopped. 

"Saya? Are you okay?" he asked, his tone like a worried kitten. My heart started again at the look in his concerned green eyes.

"Oh, I'm okay," I covered, "I was just wondering if you wanted some cotton candy before we went in."

Beau gasped, "can it be pink?!" 

I squeezed his lovely little hand assuredly. "Any color you desire, my beauty," I said comfortingly. Beau took my arm with both his hands and pressed his beautiful hair to my body as he leaned on me in love. 

But this moment. This moment. 

1892

Above me, the stars shined brightly and clearly on this cloudless Summer night. It had not rained for days, and in the air I could feel the dry ache of this region, begging for water. 

I put my hands in my pockets and hurried along. Just outside the large white tent, there stood two women covered in tattoos, striking intriguing poses almost completely naked. The crowd was gathered around in shocked expression. They murmured amongst themselves, quietly whispering their horror and delight at such a sight. A man nearby me wondered to his friend if indeed their nipples were also tattooed, and what sort of tattoo would that be? 

A flower, I thought unhesistatingly, for a flower brings life just as a woman's breast does.

All of a sudden, forcefully, I felt hands on my back. I peered over my shoulder quickly and could see three men behind all of us, pushing us towards the tent, trying to look like they were part of the crowd. But I could see they were employed by the circus, trying to push us into the tent against our will. This I did not mind, but I could see the startled faces of some in the crowd ahead of me, looking back as well.