2 - Circus of Dreams
"Where are we going?" Danae's questions remained unheeded as she sat in the passenger seat of her own car. Vincent had taken up the driver's seat, promising to take her to a mystery place.
"Be patient," he smiled. He maneuvered the Ferrari gingerly down a dirt path not unlike the one that led to her house, except this one led to the Eternal Fields. It was named so because of the fact that the fields had scarcely changed. It was a very lonely place, located so deep in the forest that few had ever ventured there.
The dirt path grew narrower, shielded by trees on either side. Soon, the car had to stop. Vincent cut the engine and got out of the car. Danae slid out of her seat. She dug her feet into the muddy ground, the cool leaves and mud sending a chill that she could feel even through her sneakers. "Why are we here?" she asked.
Vincent grabbed her hand and pulled her down the dirt path that continued on into the crushing darkness. It was too small for cars, but for two slight teenagers, it was just right. "Vince," she complained.
He kept walking, but a playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Trust me, Danae. You won't be disappointed."
"But my car—" Danae protested.
"It won't get stolen," he promised.
She shot him a dirty look, wondering what brought on his determination to get to Eternal Fields. "If it does, I'll kill you."
"Sure, sure," he said, trying to suppress a laugh now.
They continued on. Vincent didn't stop, and just as Danae was about to insist they turn back, they reached the fields.
A cry of surprise caught in Danae's throat. Lush green grass covered the fields, looking like silver under the full moon that glowed above. A passing breeze swept back Danae's hair, rustling branches full of leaves. The air that she inhaled felt fresh, untainted, like it had never gone through the endless cycle of breath. But instead of being lonely and quiet, the tents had been laid over the grass. Then the full name came to her mind. "Circus tents," she breathed, bewitched by the sight. Small glittering lights lined the edges of the tents, which was a maze that encircled the biggest one that stood in the center. The Big Top. It was easily the grandest, the biggest, and through the canvas she could hear the voices that swayed with the opening and closing of the entrance flap.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Vincent's voice jolted her back into the present.
"How did you know it was here?" she asked, eyes wide with wonder and amazement.
"You remember that day I said I was going hiking?"
"Of course." Vincent had called on her to see if she wanted to join him, but she had rejected his offer, wishing to be alone.
"Well, I got lost. It was late when I managed to stumble here, and even then the circus had arrived, but the tents were just shy of completion," he explained.
"Why haven't we heard of it?"
He shrugged. "No idea. But there were talks of a circus coming to Lithewall. But this isn't just any circus." Vincent's eyes were lit up, reflecting the glittering lights.
When Danae stared at him, he said, "It's the Cirque des Rêves, Danae. It's French. Do you know what it means in English?"
Danae called on her limited knowledge of the language of love, flipping through all the words she knew in French. Something clicked in her head. "Circus of Dreams," she said. It dawned on her. "Just like the song I wrote."
Vincent nodded. "Exactly." He threw his arms towards the tents. "That's why I wanted to bring you here. I thought you'd like it." His silver eyes were lit up. "And they say this isn't an ordinary circus. It's magical. and it only visits a place every hundred years."
"You know very well that magic doesn't exist, Vince," she teased lightly. This was a side of Vincent that Danae had never seen before. It was like he was a totally different person, enchanted by the maze of tents that stood before them as Danae was, captivated by the prospect of magic, amazed by the presence of the circus itself. This Vincent was nothing like the calm, collected and measured boy she met two years ago.
He shrugged, his shoulder rising and falling quickly before he tugged at her hand, pulling her closer towards the circus. He pulled out two tickets from his pocket.
Danae felt her eyes widen. "When did you..?" she let her question trail off unfinished, dumbfounded and speechless from the surprises Vincent had presented her.
He grinned. "The day I got lost. I thought you'd like it."
A carefree laugh burst from her chest. "I do. I really do," she said sincerely. And she meant it. It was like a passing breeze, while retreating, had dragged all her sadness and anger and pain along with it as it disappeared, leaving her rejuvenated and happy.
Unable to wait, he led her through the maze and towards the biggest tent that was encircled by the tents. Like a gentleman he held apart the tent flap for her, and as she ducked through it surprise found her again.
Rows and rows of chairs circled the ring in the center of the Big Top, each row raised higher than the previous by stands. Every seat was filled, despite the seclusion of the fields, and everyone was looking intently at the empty ring. The atmosphere, somehow, was electric.
Vincent had gotten seats that were right next to one of the four aisles that ran down the rows of chairs at regular intervals, saving them the trouble of having to mutter apologies. They had barely sat down when the lights dimmed, and the Big Top thrown into darkness.
And then, from the newly gathered shadows, a man's voice spoke. Danae peered, looking for the person who spoke, but the ring remained empty. The voice was one that was transcendent, and one that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome, to the Cirque des Rêves, where we bring your dreams to life." The last two words were almost a hiss, allowing mystery to saturate the air. Vincent leaned forward in anticipation.
"But first, let us bring you a tale of sin and love, and the struggles a man faced to save the girl he loves. We bring to you, The Siren’s Call." The voice faded, and just as silence fell, the Big Top was thrown into a suffocating darkness that consumed even the brightest lights; Danae's sight was just a blackness that shadowed even her hands from her eyes. And then, abruptly, a single beam of light poured down upon the ring, and she leaned forward to see.
In the dead center, a single white bed had been placed, and the first image that intruded her mind was that of a hospital. A man sat by its side, and even from the distance, she could see the distress that plagued his body. The cause of that anguish laid upon the bed, hidden beneath the sheets: a young girl.
Her delicate form struck Danae, and without a doubt, she realized that she was dying. She was pretty, she supposed. Long flowing hair, a shade lighter than gold. She had flawless skin, her lips full. But her cheeks were pale, as were those full lips. And the man grasped his lover's hand in a soundless imploration for her to open her eyes.
The sudden flash of red blinded Danae, and she was certain she was not the only one to shield her eyes from the bright light. When the red etiolated, a second man stood with the duo. He was handsome, but from where she sat, Danae could only say that he was beautiful, with sandy gold hair.
The second man gestured to the girl's motionless body on the white bed, which looked so fragile, huddled among the sheets, and his question was clear: Would you do everything to save her?
The dark-haired man's response was a slight nod of his head, and determination seemed to mask his entire being and soul.
In return, the second man raised his arms, and as the flash of light that grew too bright, the scene changed. Suddenly, the lonely bed no longer stood in the center, vanished without a trace, and was replaced by the dark-haired man, who stood alone. Then swiftly, two young women emerged from the sides, from behind the curtains that hid the backstage. They were dressed in matching outfits, a glittering silver jumpsuit that wrapped around their slender bodies beautifully. But something about the way they carried themselves made Danae think about contortionists, and her instinct proved correct.
They leapt about him in a dance, one that only emphasized their beauty and grace, and the expression which the man looked at them was one of lust. Their dance continued, a routine that now involved the man, and she remained captivated at their dance and performance, as the girls twisted and turned in the most impossible angles, forever touching him, a seductive move that drew him to them.
The third and sudden flash of silver stopped their elysian dance, and like a miniature whirlwind, dust particles picked up where the man and the contortionists have left off, a spin that was just as seraphic as their routine. And then, before her very eyes, they seemed to congregate to form a solid figure, the misty outline of the man's dying lover.
The music grew low, pensive, as the girl raised a yearning hand with a tortured gaze. Why, she seemed to whisper.
Danae suddenly realized the deal the man had made with the devil to save the girl he loved: a promise to go through the agony that she experienced as he commits the deadly sins. From then, Danae watched the acts with a longing heart, and each time the girl reappeared with her bitter pain, her own heart wrenched in answer to that agony. Seven times this happened, each performance based on each of the seven deadly sins: lust, gluttony, greed, wrath, sloth, envy, and last of all, pride.
Once again, the tent was pitched into a darkness that surrounded them all, and then, the light shone down upon the center of the tent once more.
Just like magic, a large tank had emerged in the center of the tent, amidst gasps and murmurs of suspicion and awe. Danae felt her heart thump, eagerness making her heart beat louder, faster. Within the tank, colourful fishes swam, and Danae suddenly understood the meaning of what her people used to tell her: "The sea is a rainbow on its own."
It was true. As the rippling water splashed gently against the glass, fishes swam in schools around corals. She caught sight of the lion fish, with red stripes running down its body, gliding slowly through the water, as a school of fishes that glinted silver under the light scattered at the sight of it. Green corals swayed with the waves, and the gentle lapping of the water seemed to fill the spaces between Danae's heartbeats.
A split second of color, and then darkness fell again. When the spotlight fell, the light shone down at the corner of the Big Top.
The dark-haired man was balanced on a wooden platform that stood five meters above the ground. His bare chest was tan, chiseled and muscular. Then, without warning, he flipped onto a wire that hung, almost invisible, above the audience. He landed fluidly, easily, and then, as if it did not matter in the least, he walked forward atop the thin wire.
He moved further and further out onto the wire, until he was directly in the center. There, he stopped abruptly. He tilted his head upwards, towards the skies, and shut his eyes with a tired look on his face: the explicit look of defeat. Slowly, he spread out his arms, and tipped backwards into the open air.
Danae's eyes followed the man's plunge, her arm shooting out automatically in a bid to reach him before he fell to his death. Her heart wrenched, the feeling of watching someone about to die too familiar for her. All around her, gasps rang out.
With a gentle splash, he fell into the tank. Although she knew it was all an act, she couldn't help the fear. And then, from the depths of the tank, a girl swam out. Danae gasped as realization struck her. A long, curvaceous blue tail replaced the girl's legs, and with another jolt, she recognized this beauty as the man’s own dying lover. Specks of gold from the siren's tail seemed to glitter beneath the single beam of light that shone upon her as with a flick of her tail the siren caught the man.
She watched his eyes open with a tender face, and when she opened her mouth, the voice that rang out was heavenly. Her voice formed no words, but just the music was enough to bring Danae's heart to a standstill as she listened intently to the paradisaical sound.
She pulled him into a underwater dance. It was graceful, supported gorgeously with the beauty of the girl's voice. They twisted, their bodies always intertwined, their fingers always interlocked.
Slowly, life seemed to return to the young man. Then, something else began to happen. Hundreds and thousands of glittering lights seemed to burst forth from their bodies, until they were encompassed in an incandescent pearly glow. They burst through the water, their bodies still entwined as one, the white glow still wrapped around their bodies, and as black wings burst from the man's back, white ones unfurled from the girl, except she was no longer a siren. Human legs had appeared where her tail had been as they landed uncertainly on the wire, and Danae saw this with a epiphany that love overcomes all. And then, with one last note, the beautiful dance ended with the song. Their eyes remained locked on each other as applause became the loudest thing that existed.
"You're crying," Vincent said softly as the couple bowed and left the stage. She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand. His finger caught a stray one and with a gentle flick he brushed it away. "Why?"
"This story, their dance, it just reminded me of how life can be beautiful too," she said ruefully. "Look at them." Her mind replayed their performance once more. "Look at their unimaginable love, Vince.”
"Life is beautiful," he said.
"Life always has a way of balancing things out," another voice said, distinctly male. They both looked up, and Danae's breath caught as she recognized the man who had just given Danae one of the most beautiful performances she had seen. Now that he was much closer, she was stunned by his beauty.
His skin was tan, flawless, with its own beauty that made the brown of his hair look darker and richer in comparison. His chest was still bare, except now he donned a cloak darker than midnight itself. He was muscular, and tendons and veins stood out against his skin. The slightness to his hard-muscled body provided her a sense of security she had not experienced since the deaths of her family.
As he moved closer, Danae's eyes fell on his, and she was lost in the depths of them. They were more like amber rather than brown, almost like liquid gold. They cut open her soul, piercing through her and knowing the deepest and darkest corners of her heart. His face was every bit as regal and handsome as the pharoahs of ancient times.
Beyond his looks, something else caught Danae's attention. He gave off the aura of a silent warrior, and yet the sadness and protectiveness she sensed in him was packed firmly, layer upon layer. Hard. Solid. Unyielding. She felt a jerk in her heart, like this was someone she ought to know.
The man held out a hand. "I believe that the ringmaster has asked for a volunteer. Would you give us the pleasure?"
Danae's head spun towards the rings, where another man stood, poised, waiting patiently. He must have asked when she was talking to Vincent. She looked to her friend for support, and when he smiled encouragingly, she reluctantly placed her hand in the man's. The ringmaster's deep voice boomed across the tent. Danae recognized the voice that had announced each act. "A round of applause please, for this gorgeous young lady!"
As she stepped across the small silver circle that ran around the ring, a gust of wind swept around the tent. Danae inhaled sharply as the cold met her skin and she shivered. Then she exhaled with huff as her eyes travelled up towards the ceiling. "Oh!"
It was like the top of the tent had opened up to reveal the night sky that shone above the North Pole, but instinctively, Danae knew it wasn't. Like streamers waving with a gentle breeze, blue lights ran across the sky, like an artist had dipped his paintbrush into the ocean, and slid the colors over a black background: silver, blue and green.
Murmurs became a soft hum in the background as the audience began to realize the magic above their heads. Confused expressions were mirrored on every face as they pointed. "This is sign," someone said. "A sign of someone different. Someone unique. The symbol of destiny."
But Danae barely heard the words, because her own eyes were locked on the steady glow of the resplendentlights.
Maybe magic did exist after all.
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This chapter is dedicated to @ThePurpleFreak for supporting Siren's Call and helping with the storyline! :D This goes out to her for everything she has helped me with :)
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