Crimson is Our Favorite Color

The Trials (3)

Funambulist. Funambulist! What had he been thinking? Of course it wasn't just some desk job, he had overheard it from the circus people he had met a few days back, on the crossroads. He was going to have to perform!!!

He was walking back to the small room he had been put up in after the conversation with Pia, she had inquired as to what supplies he needed, and said that everyone was ready for the show, then everything had clicked when she said that they were excited to have a circus performer in town.

How could he have been so stupid?! The old man's comment as he was rushing to meet Pia: "the whole town is buzzing about you, haven't had anyone like you around in a long time". Of course he hadn't meant a visitor, they must have visitors often, but not usually a performer. They wanted entertainment!

When he had told Pia that he was a funambulist he had no idea what it meant, it was just his luck that it meant a tightrope walker. How was he going to do this?

Then something clicked.

Wilco! He was going to use Wilco. With her feline grace, he might just be able to save himself from humiliation, and avoid conflict, and then maybe he could get the information on Suka's whereabouts that he so desperately needed. This was going to be fine.

A few hours later another child, delivered a message that they had gotten a rope that should support him, and that they had strung it up over the pool that he had seen earlier that day. Pia had been a bit confused when he had told her that he didn't have the rope, but she graciously presented him with one of her own that looked sturdy. He had told her that his had burned in a fire a few weeks back, she seemed to buy it, Gransfen was relieved. As for the location, Granfen had, chosen that himself for a few reasons, one was that if he were to fall, he would only get wet, and not seriously injured in the pond, the second reason was that there was a statue of (what he presumed to be) Suka, and would therefore be a good Segway into that conversation. he could do this.

He was ready.

People clapped him on the back, and congratulated him as he passed. He mingled for a bit, and then the feast was brought out. Obviously he was the main event, but not the only thing going on. There was celebration, and dance. He talked to a few people about Suka but none would give him a flat out answer. Apparently she had favored this town for a lonf time, and now lived somewhere further north with the Ardu. Gransfen knew he couldn't go on that alone. 

Then, after the food was served, everyone had eaten, and drunk their fill, it was time for Gransfen's performance. He excused himself from the party, saying that he needed to use the washroom, his real intention though was to release Wilco in an alley. He had told her of his plan earlier in the day, and she seemed confident. She twisted around, and let out a purr that echoed through the small path, a spark of anxiety, but everyone was too busy with the celebrations to notice the sound.

He left her and walked back to the party, and over to the ladder that someone had set up, he started to climb, and climb, and climb. He realized that the rope was much higher up than it had looked from the ground. He vaguely remembered that tightrope walkers usually used a long stick to help with balance. Oh well, he guessed it was too late for that now. He also regretted having so many drinks, it would be hard to walk straight even if he weren't high above the ground on a flimsy rope. The severity of what he was about to do kicked in.

When he reached the platform he was to start from, he trembled, then remembering Wilco, he sought out their connection, and immediately their bond solidified, and he stopped trembling. He looked at the rope. she was confident, and that meant that he was too. Then...

He took a step

And then another

And another, and another, and another.

He couldn't see Wilco because he was focusing on the rope.

 Big mistake. He wobbled, flailing wildly. People gasped. Then, two gleaming eyes found him, and he felt a rush of peace, and his nerves were calmed. He could do this. This was nothing.

By keeping eye contact he found that not only could he walk but he could do tricks. He stood on one foot, did a jump, even a handstand. He was sure this was nothing compared to what performers often did, but then again he wasn't exactly the build of a circus performer. Even still, the rope held strong.

There was a yell somewhere down below, but Grandson was too occupied to notice. Another yell. Then he knew something was wrong, not on his end end of the bond, but from Wilco, she was in trouble. The energy she had been giving him loosened, and he tilted a bit, but he was still in control.

Then in a flash of black as Wilco darted out from the alley she had been hiding in, pursued by two surly looking women, with a net, then a few more appeared she was surrounded. The net descended, trapping Wilco.

He couldn't leave her there, so he did the one thing he could think of: and summoned her into a passive state. With a flash, and a sharp pain, the net that had been holding her fell limp.

But there were consequences to that move. Wilco was no longer giving him her feline grace. In a moment, his bad balance, his nerves, and the fact that he was drunk, hit him with the force of a tidal wave. He took a step to balance himself, and his foot met only air.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. He twisted, falling toward the murky pool. In the moment before he hit the water his eyes locked on a familiar face. Pia.

Then everything went black.