Knight in Dulled Armor

Chapter 6: Acrobatic Academic

 My eyes drift upwards, taking in the view of the city still. Not all of Braiewood was in disarray, many of the buildings and streets were cleaner as I explored more open areas. The architecture wasn't exactly typical of what I was familiar with. Brick and wood serve as most of the building materials here, unlike much of the metal and raw stone used in Asteria. The most prevalent difference was the sheer height of the buildings here. Many aspects played with the height of the buildings, like lofts, patios, and raised foundations.

I decide to head back into the aerial arts center, following back down the road I came from. This time I enter through the large double doors, and take a seat near the front of the crowd. People seemed to be biding time at the moment with no one on any stages, several seats now vacant, and those still sitting were chatting or immersed in other activities. While seated I catch a whiff of food cooking somewhere. I scan the area, a peck of hunger setting in. I notice a small counter and bar area with a man cooking behind it in the far corner of the room.

The aerial performance seemed to be at an intermission for the time being, so I make my way to a stool at the counter. Only one other sat spaced between stools with me. I try to get the man cooking's attention, sticking my hand up and slightly forward. We make eye contact, but he doesn't bother to speak to me. I wait a few moments for him to finish what is cooking on the grill on the other side of the countertop. When he serves a plate to a man waiting and still doesn't bother to take my order I open my mouth to ask him when he is available to do so.

My mouth is filled with something, my hand jumps up to cover my mouth. Juicy, soft, and savory my stomach churns upon the realization that it was meat. "Excuse me, I don't really eat meat." he glances up from his work for a moment, a brow raised. "Not many do, that is a mushroom and vegetable blend, it only resembles meat. We're not orcs, don't be absurd." I push aside the seemingly heated comment, "Sorry, I wasn't aware. Can I get a men-" I am once again cut off by him flinging a bit of the warm mushroom meat into my mouth via spatula.

I chew and swallow, growing impatient with his unprofessional attitude despite the great quality of the food. He sees my mouth descend into a scowl, "You're hungry, right? What's wrong?" he says through a smirk. "I'm joking of course, the menu is behind me," he says, moving over to reveal a large menu board. Upon inspection, I decide on fried rice with local veggies. He quickly prepares it, asking if I wanted it in a box rather than a plate. I panic and say nod without absorbing the information at first. He preps it into a small box with a wooden utensil, then passes it to me by a handle on its folded top.

Light in the room shifted, blobs of color now dragging their way across the walls. My mind is brought back to wondering how the light morphs color and moves in such a way. The only possibility that remains after my eyes follow along the walls and floor extensively is that it was some kind of magic. Slow music kicks up, indicating the show may start soon.

I make my way back to my seat in the crowd. A woman walks out onto the stage from a set of curtains behind her. A short airy skirt made from a vibrant lace hangs just above her mid-thigh. Peaking through this translucent skirt I was a glimpse of white lacy undergarments. A small sleeveless top of a similar style clung to her chest. The largest piece of fabric on her was a long scarf draped over her shoulders.

She settled herself on stage, gripping one of the bars and gracefully pulling herself up onto it. She then hooks one leg onto a curved section of a bar, bending her body and allowing herself to hang from it. She morphs her body into different shapes with a series of twists and movements, creating a graceful and even sensual environment. She continues the aerial sport reminiscent of refined dance, using her scarf as a prop to hold herself in a brilliant display of strength.

The music fades out for a moment, a silence nestles its way deep into the room. I look around the room, trying to gauge if the performance was over. My eyes snap back to the stage as the performer, now sitting on a high horizontal section of a bar, juts her hands out, falling back only catching herself with her fastened scarf at the last moment. The music now swells at a faster pace to match their routine. I notice a set of clicks and clanking above me in the pause, noticing a tall tile ceiling.