The entertainments continued as a juggler took the stage. He was a lanky Kinkajou, a ridiculous jesters hat pressed on around his ears but elsewise wearing nothing more exotic then a grey tunic and leggings. He also could not juggle and sent oranges and apples tumbling every which way.
It took Aeturnis a while to realise that his supposed incompetence was in fact a ploy to entertain. Having never been exposed to the tricks of showmanship, she remained ignorant in that regard. It was only when his female assistant, a rather well-proportioned Binturong, also wearing a plain tunic, although one of rather a tighter fit took the stage, that she began to take notice. She opened a case and removed from it a torch, which she ignited from the fire and presented it to her partner.
The Kinkajou refused the first torch, waving her away and shaking his head emphatically. She insisted, forcing it into his hand where he stared at it as though it would bite him, then tried to hand it back.
She would have none of that, pushing his hand away and stepping back. He stared at her, aghast, then tossed the torch into the air, inserting a finger in his mouth, as though it were scalded. The children gasped in horror and awe as the flaming brand cut a fiery comet through the sky, twisting and turning. Just as it seemed it would fall to the ground and all would by lost, his tail darted up, the prehensile tip wrapping about it, snatching it from the air.
He laughed, and thumbed his nose at his assistant. She smirked, and tossed another at him. He caught it, stared at it for a moment, then threw it back. She tumbled, landing on her hands, and caught it with her foot, long toes wrapping about it. With ease she threw it, catching it with her tail, and completing her tumble.
The two of them stepped together, took short bows to much applause and then flung the torches into the air again, the Kinkajou catching both of them, one in each hand. He tossed on in the air, caught it again and then grinned mischievously at the crowd. The audience, those that had not fallen asleep that is (it had been a hard day of travelling, after all) applauded and goaded and watching with wide eyes as he threw it into the air again, then threw the other one up. The two crossed in the air in a flaming arc, and then he caught one with his tail and the other in his hand.
The Binturong lit another torch in the fire and threw that into the melee, and then another, so that finally he was juggling four flaming torches between both hands and his tail. He then flung them at his assistant one at a time, as she did another rolling tumble that resulted in her holding one with her tail and one in each hand, having first caught them with her feet.
Still holding the last one, he bowed and doused it, as his partner threw them back, he caught them one at a time and doused them.
Until the last one.
The avid attention of the audience was all directed towards the two performers, so that no one could honestly say where the orange came from. It tumbled through the air with unerring aim, striking the torch just as the Kinakjou reached out to catch it. It jerked it, sending it spinning directly into his chest, where his tunic erupted into flame. His scream was horrible to behold and the stench of burning fur filled the air. Before anyone else fully realised what had happened, the Binturong had dragged a heavy blanket from her case and threw it around him as he fell to the ground, rolling to douse the flames.
"When you play with fire, you're sure to get burned," Deryk commented, appearing at Aeturnis's side and shaking his head sadly. She had not even noticed he had gone. The look in his eyes frightened her, the same hungry look she had seen before upon mentioning her father. And then it was gone, replaced with concern as he rushed forward to help pour water on the poor Furrae's scalded chest.
Somewhat shaken, Aeturnis wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging herself tightly and took another sip from the flagon. And another.
The Kinkajou was escorted off muttering obscenities beneath his breath and raving about sabotage.
Deryk returned to her side. "He'll be fine," he said, "the two of them know more about burns and the treatment of such then anyone else in the camp. Do not worry yourself."
She can only nod in response, taking another sip from the jug. Her head does not feel quite right anymore, like she is being drawn away from reality.
Phillipe took the central stage. "Sorry about that," he said. "Do not worry, Mister Karlos will be just fine. Minor burns are fairly common in his department. So, without further ado, I present to you, Fately!"
Fauns, or Satyrs as they were also known, were an oddity even amongst the Furrae. Unlike most of their kin, who had evolved into the taurish form of six limbs and two torsos, Fauns were merely bipedal goats. Normally reclusive and solitary, Fauns had developed quite a reputation of being extremely over-enthused lovers. This, in part, may have been inspired by the fact that the few that ventured down from the rocky mountains and into the cities, tended to go rather more then a little wild. Aeturnis had read about them, but she had never imagined ever meeting one.
Of course, she had never imagined meeting an Avian or an Ungutaur either. Everything she had done, everything she had seen, had been nothing more then a dream to her.
And now these dreams were her reality.
She remembered Chaz and tears started streaming down her face. Now there was a dream that had turned to a nightmare before she had even had time to take hold of it.
Light music filled the glade, as Fately began to play his panpipe, snapping her from her alcohol-induced depression. It was a light, lilting tune, bringing back memories of butterflies and running through the long grass. A smile crept onto her lips and the tears faded.
A slender Coyote stepped from the shadows of a wagon, his voice picking up the tune in a soft, sweet voice.
"A year is just a drop in time
it cannot touch the female form in my bed
She is just a friend of mine
In the dark I knew the touch of her hand*"
It was glorious - Aeturnis just closed her eyes and let the music carry her away.
"Let the music play like you want it to
Let the sunlight glide through your hair
Let the moonlight play at your feet like a babe
And softly, linger there…"
The song was not sad, but she still felt the tears creeping into the corners of her eyes again. Different tears from before. Aeturnis could cry an ocean if it were ever required, not that she regarded that as any sort of talent.
The tune died away but Aeturnis hungered for more.
"Little lass," the Faun asked, staring directly at her, "do you sing?"
"Nuh-no," she shook her head. No, she didn't sing, although the tune broiled inside her, wanting to be heard. She must never sing - her mother had warned her against it. She shivered and hugged the book closer, aware that the eyes of everyone were upon her once more. "Can't sing, won't sing."
"Oh," said the Coyote, "but I'm sure you have a beautiful singing voice." He smiled at her and there was such tenderness in his smile she knew he spoke the truth.
Fately nodded, "listen to Johann," he said, "he has a seventh sense for such things."
"'Tis true," Johann admitted, putting out his hand to her. "Do not be afraid."
But she was afraid - terrified. When Aeturnis was young, she had once tried singing along with the Soundbox, but her mother had stormed in, turned it off and forbid her ever to sing again.
She had cried for hours, feeling as though her mother had torn away a part of her - a part of her she did not truly yet understand. But it had not stopped her singing. Instead, she kept it to herself, allowing the tune to come only when she was alone. Why had her mother forbidden her? Was her voice really that bad?
Johann continued to smile encouragement at her and Deryk put his hand on her shoulder, pressing another jug of the sweetwater into her hands. "Go on," he whispered, "it is an honour to be singled out by a true bard. If you do not go to him, you will have dishonoured us."
Aeturnis had no wish to dishonour them - and more to the point, she did not want to see that look in Deryk's eyes again. She swallowed nervously and gulped down a mouthful of the alcohol that seared her throat and near-nigh choked her, but filled her with a pleasantly warm glow. The troubles of the world began to melt away.
She accepted Johann's hand and took the stage beside him. It was funny, she reflected, she had thought that standing up here with everyone watching her would be terrifying - but she could not deny the exhilaration and adrenaline that rose inside her. Her father was a rock musician - maybe the apple had fallen not so far from the tree as previous evidence declared.
Deryk held up his thumb to her in the traditional "good on you" position. She blushed to the tips of her ears and applied her bravest smile to her face. "So what do we sing?"
"Do you know any duets?" Johann asked her and she shook her head in response. She didn't know any songs anymore. "Well then, can you read?"
"Yes," she replied, blushing further. He pressed a small notebook into her hands. "Fately will sing with you," he explained. "My voice is not matched well to the tune."
Fately smiled at her kindly, giving a little nod with his head. "It is a song that you must start," he said, "but I trust Johann. If he says you can sing, then you can sing." Johann drew out a magitric harp and began the tune.
It was a popular one, and one Aeturnis recognised immediately. She shivered a little, glancing around at all the faces, eagerly watching her. How had she got herself into this? Could she even sing?
She gulped, as Fately put his hand on her shoulder, and began to half sing, half read, the words off the page in front of her:
"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came, that voice which calls to me," she stuttered a little on the first line, before her voice truly found the tune and ran along with it. "And speaks my name." She glanced up and took courage from Deryk's smile of encouragement. "And do I dream again? For now I find - the phantom of the opera is there. Inside my mind."
Here Fately took over, his voice deep and rich. "Sing once again with me our strange duet; my power over you grows stronger yet. And though you turn from me to glance behind, the phantom of the opera is there inside your mind." She dared a glance at him and he smiled and flashed her his thumb in approval.
As she sung the third verse, something strange happened. The audience seemed to flow away and for a moment she was Christine, facing the mysterious Phantom in the dark recesses of the Opera house. She could almost smell the stagnant air and polished wood. Fately's clothing appeared to have changed from a plain tunic and leggings into a long black coat over a white frilly shirt. As she glanced down, she realised her own clothing had changed from a rather dirty and tattered dress into a fine, albeit low-cut, gown made in a rich red fabric that swished over her legs.
He pursued her across the "stage" in a manner more reminiscent of dance then anything more. Fear, intermingled with curiosity and a strange and frightening desire, washed over her and she feared to let him catch her, lest he touch her. All the while, they sang.
"Your spirit and my voice in one combined; the phantom of the opera is there... inside your mind." She sang, fleeing from him once again.
The song reached it's rather manic conclusion: "Sing, my angel of music!" Fately insisted, swirling his coat about him as he danced around her. He caught her with one hand on her shoulder, spinning her to face him, and for a moment the two stared each other in the eyes and she wondered if he would nuzzle her. He was Fately no more, but now the Phantom, a mask covering his face and she reached up to draw it from his face.
And then the music died, Johann's hands falling away from the magitric harp. Stunned silence followed and Aeturnis felt the disappoint rise within her. She had been an embarrassment. Her singing had been terrible. Her head fell to her hands and she sought escape - her fine gown replaced once more by tattered rags.
Then the applause began, slowly but gaining in tumultuous waves until it echoed in her ears.
And then Fately screamed.