After several weeks the Arcus games are being held in their normal and regular time slot for the entertainment of the Athenian people. On this day, however, there are new forms of excitement to be seen and tension in the air. For many believe that an announcement will be being made during the games - one of union between the kingdoms of Athenia and Taengea. Not only this, but King Minas has called for aid in enrapturing his populace; performers, entertainers, singers, musicians, fire-eaters, contortionists, freak-shows and exotic acts of all kinds have been arriving in the Athenian capital all week ready to perform at the Feast of Sinners. For, straight after the regular Arcus games there is to be the greatest show on earth. Lanterns lit in the streets, music playing on every corner, incense and smoke fogging the air into a misty dream of fantasies and desires. The Central Plateia is being turned into a giant tent to house a performing troupe by the name of The Children of Mnemosyne. The Agora is being over-run with fortune-tellers and stall owners. The Arcus is being opened up to theatre shows and productions. The entirety of Athenia will be out and about, later into the night, until the dawn of the new day. This night long celebration in the sweltering heat of late summer will be talked of for months to come and will be the last chance for Athenians to set aside propriety and dive into indulgence before the fall harvest time begins...
As a natural performer, it is of no surprise that Zephyrus, star trapeze artist of the Children of Mnemosnye, would be up at the crack of dawn on the day of the show. Even after the past ten or so odd years of performing, he's never truly managed to get rid of the antsiness he felt before a show. If Bas was around, his lover would be the perfect way to work off some of that energy, but with the amount of patrons available for him to serve that day, Zephyrus was left alone.
At the thought of Bas's 'job' for the day, the trapeze artist frowned, shaking the thought from his head and refusing to think of it further.
Instead, the male jumped out of bed, slipped into his usual black pants and long sleeved cotton tunic, ran a hand through his mop-like hair, before deciding to screw it. It wasn't as if the hair was going to stay in place after his practice, warm up and subsequent performance anyway. So Zephyrus grabbed the twine he used for such occasions, bound up the long curls in a tree-like fashion on top of his head, before bounding out of his quarters.
The streets were abound with vendors and performers alike, either finding a spot to showcase their skills or peddle their wares, the excitement almost palpable. Festivals were rare in Athenia, even if they were great - Athenians were too uptight and responsible. So this was a great time for all the performers involved.
Distracted, it wasn't till 15 minutes later, did Zephyrus rock up to the entrance of the large tent that had been set up for their troupe's highlight performance that evening, holding a small fruitcake in one hand, and a tzieri in the other, taking alternate bites of either or. Grinning and waving with a mouth full of food, Zephyrus wandered over to check on his equipment to ensure they were properly wrapped and hooked up - and of course, not forgetting the fireproof leather gloves and pants he had specifically requested by Phineus if he was doing his fire hoop act tonight.
Having escaped to the temple in the early morning in the hopes of getting to sit with her new friend, Iris had returned home only a little after sun up. She changed her chiton quickly, Sophia chatting excitedly about the feast. It was one of the few days of the year that Iris let them escape out into the festivities to enjoy things just as everyone else did. There was no reason to keep them cooped up inside when all they would do was long to be out where all of the activity was.
When her hair was finished, she ushered the slaves out into the streets, willing them to do everything but continue to chatter at her. There was a brief moment where Iris looked in on her father, settled happily in the back garden with a few of the dogs from Aetaea. He looked up quietly, gave her a smile, and then made a motion for her to go enjoy herself.
Feeling just the slightest bit like a child once more, Iris slipped out into the streets, walking alone as she observed vendors and performers setting up for the night time. While Iris had no interest in attending the fights, she did like to scope out the rest of the feast to narrow down just what foods and performers she was interested in and which she could do without.
The lady smiled slightly when a group of young boys ran past excitedly, one of them uttering an apology for their breeziness as they passed her on the street. Iris only smiled and waved them off, simply content to be among the joyful, excited crowds that were gathering in the streets. Some would go to the games, others would wander and socialize.
He had returned home just in time. The Feast of Sinners was his favorite part of the year. Anything someone loved, they could find out in the bustling streets of Athenia.
As if it were his birthday, Evren awoke early, excited to get the day started. Many noblemen had dressers aid them in choosing an outfit, but the son of Zayn thoroughly enjoyed picking which colors and fabrics he would don each and every day.
In nothing more than a loin cloth, the nobleman picked through the stacked clothes that were arranged in the chest at the foot of his bed. A smile appeared on his face as his fingers met a piece of apparel that seemed more than fitting for the occasion: a black chiton with a sky-blue himation.
Making sure not to ruffle the other pieces of clothing, he pulled the desired chiton forth and adorned himself in it. After a quick prayer to Dionysus at his family’s personal shrine, and some idle chatter with his father, Evren made his way out into the cobblestone streets of the capital.
Most of the performers were still setting up, but some had headed out early and were already entertaining the growing crowds. He passed by bards with lyres, dancers with the flexibility of a feline, but eventually his nose led the way. Evren could smell the wondrous scents of various foods, and his empty stomach was more than enough motivation for him.
He found his way to a line of stalls, his dark eyes scanning over the olives, the grapes, the bread, and by the gods, the cheese. He loved cheese. Obols came out of his pockets faster than a rabbit on the run from a hungry hawk. The merchant’s hands swallowed up the coins, and Evren’s hands nearly trembled as the small wheel of cheese was placed into his possession.
Evren’s eyes were wide in pure joy as he resumed his walk, bits of the cheese wheel being broken off here and there. Being caught up in all the sights and sounds, the nobleman found himself stopping abruptly as a group of children sprinted past, one of them turning about on his heel to give a hasty apology before joining his friends in full flight.
It was good to see young birds setting soar in the open air, and so he smiled. For no reason in particular, he glanced to his left, and found his vision filled by the visage of a fair brunette. He recognized her face from when he was much younger. Perhaps they had met at a party? She was dressed too lavishly to be a commoner. Well, maybe not. It was not good to generalize. He knew that.
“Excuse me,” he said gently, his genuine smile returning as her eyes found his. They were striking. “It has been a long, long while, but I feel as though I have seen you somewhere before.” He paused for a moment, his expression of joy weakening slightly. “May I ask your name?”
A horn was blasted through the lower levels of the city as the Arcus games came to their conclusion. After the fights, the violence and mania, the people of the city who had attended the event poured out onto the streets, their adrenaline high and their excitement excessive. What they would now be looking for, Persephone knew, as she watched them from an archway in the back of the royal box that looked out onto the streets, was a form of entertainment.
And entertainment they would have.
With her father taking a separate carriage in order to return to the palace - his role as authoritative monarch had long since passed with the final sounding of the arcus horn - Persephone was left with Iason and her sister in - along with the rest of their escort - to occupy the rest of their afternoon and evening and Persephone knew just the thing.
Hurrying over to the younger princess and offering her a quick embrace before they would leave the box and be back in the public eye, Persephone murmured in her ear.
"You handled that well..." She told the girl, stroking her hair while being careful not to disturb her ringlets. "I'm very proud of you."
Breaking away she smiled and the girl and transferred her hands from her hair to her shoulders.
"Now." She asserted with the tap of her palms. "How would you like to see something amazing, instead of violent?" She told the girl with a mischievous grin, before turning to fill the Lord Iason in. "We have welcomed a performing troupe to the kingdom, Lord Iason... it is said to be the most impressive thing a human can see with the naked eye."
She winked at her sister.
"Let's see if they're right shall we?"
Within the half hour - for it took that long to travel the ten minutes between the arcus and the central plateia, Persephone could not help her brows rise and her eyes widen at the site of the large tent that had been erected above the open courtyard.
People milled everywhere, squashing and shifting and trying to either enter the tent despite it apparently being full, or simply to get a better look at the royal carriages that had just arrived.
Commander Diomedes was doing a fine job of ensuring that the people stayed back from the vehicle and did not cause accidental - or deliberate - damage to the royals who stepped out of it and Persephone offered him a thankful smile when she was able to catch his eye.
"Come..." Persephone said, taking ahold of her sister's hand and headed towards a side entrance, the flap of which was being held aside for the royals to enter undisturbed. "Let us see what such travellers have to offer, shall we?"
Emilia had been glad to get out of the Arcus games, and was quick to hurry with her guards surrounding her to enter the royal carriage that would bring her to the Plateia for the continuation of the Athenian festival. Eager to leave a place where much violence had been performed, she still paused when Persephone had ran up to her, happily melting into her sister's embrace with a tight one of her own. It was as if the embrace managed to level her breathing, ground her again just before they pulled apart.
The girl wore an affectionate, contented look, allowing Persephone to brush her hair, a beaming look when her sister stated her pride in her. She had tried - a few times, the young one had felt bile in her throat when blood was spilled and people and animals alike were knocked unconscious. Compassionate and kind to a fault, Emilia doubted she would ever see the fun and entertainment in an activity that caused pain, and had not enjoyed the gladiator fights one bit.
Laughing, she quickly nodded. "Amazing?" Emilia echoed, listening when Persephone explained to her now affianced partner. Excitement and enthusiasm swelled in her when she heard of the performing troupe. She nodded her head eagerly, and was quick to follow her sister to the carriage that would bring them to the performances that were scheduled to take place. Along the way, Emilia was quick to take off a bulk of the burnt-orange material Helen had wound around her, leaving the thick, bottom layer of white chiton that was secured around her waist by a thick, leather belt threaded with silver.
Leaving the material in a corner of the carriage, what was left was a considerably less heavy and formal chiton that was primarily white, with the same burnt orange material draped over her shoulder, and pinned to the bottom part of her chiton - a simple and easy piece that still designated her status as royalty with the intricate hairdo and copious amounts of jewelry, but allowed Emilia enough room to make her way through what would be a crowded area.
Allowing Nicholai to hand her down to the steps, she trusted her head bodyguard to keep people away from her body as she followed her sister, her eyes locked on to the large, looming tent that had been set up. She trusted Dawn to follow behind her, keeping her chiton away from the crush of feet that would dirty her dressing. Her mouth, although unbecoming, now gaped slightly at what now seemed like a promising night, and the girl easily fell next to Persephone's step, slipping her hand through Persephone's arm, as they entered the large tent, glad as usual that as royals, they had their own private quarters from which to watch the performance without the need to fight for space.
Vilmar was pleased the games had come to a close. They had caused him to feel offset. He had time to think as the carriage made its way through the city. It had seemed the afternoon was settling into a busy atmosphere as the crowds gathered to celebrate. He felt uneasy with so many people around him. Vilmar tried to think of happier thoughts, and his mind crossed with the image of a young woman who he had begun sharing time with of late. The idea made him smile.
One hand checked the sword at his side. He briefly pulled the edge of the blade from the sheath. It was still ready if needed, and he slid the weapon back into its place. He tilted his head as he adjusted the visor of his helmet. The horse came to a halt as they arrived. Vilmar gently patted the creature on the neck. He had to admit it he was growing familiar with the animal. Perhaps horses were not all cause for concern.
He pulled the reins up and steadied the horse as he dismounted. He followed a few steps behind the royal family as they entered the tent. Vilmar did his best not to crowd the Princess or her sister, but he made sure they were in arm's reach if needed. He hoped there would be no questionable stunt like the last time. His helmet removed Vilmar sighed and entered.
He offered a curt nod to Nicholai. Vilmar did not know the man, but he seemed capable. Vilmar was glad not to be the only one present to defend the royalty if something occurred. Vilmar took up position between a corner of the tent, and the place Persephone decided to sit. It would allow him to shield her path to the exit, or strike forward in front of her if needed. His sapphire eyes darted around his surroundings. He was not sure what to expect, but he remained cautious all the same.
Nicholai was much relieved to have Emilia out of the Arcus, but while he was aware of the close bond between the two princesses, he didn't like that the girls were hugging in a less than secure place. One well placed missile could end the family line he’d sworn to protect. He circled, keeping his body between the two and the most likely point of such an attack.
He’d barely noticed the blood and violence of the games, his attention focused on either his charge or busy scanning the crowds for the slightest indication someone meant harm to the royal family.
Nic took a step back but he stayed close enough that he could protect Emilia and Persephone without crowding the crown princess and her younger sister. There was a fine line a bodyguard walked, staying close enough to do his job, without crowding the people he was protecting. Since the night he’d escorted the crown princess and the lady Thalia to that tavern, he’d started second guessing everything he did around the elder of the two sisters he was currently hovering around so protectively. He didn't want to get too close or overstep as he had that night at the tavern. Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing he’d watched the two princesses grow up, since it made it harder for him to maintain the proper distance with Persephone.
Nic offered a steadying hand to Emmy as she stepped down from the carriage, then fell into step on her right, the princess’ left side guarded by another of her protective detail, the love of his life trailing behind Emmy, ensuring that the princess’ fine gown was not dragged through the dirt or trod upon by any of the other people attending the feast.
He looked over when the newly appointed Vilmar nodded at him as he took his place guarding the crown princess. Nic nodded back, then smiled at the fellow bodyguard before scanning the enclosed area, glancing from Emilia to Dawn before looking around another time.
Dawn may be absent minded from time to time, but Princesses truly could be a careless bunch. The second Emilia was on the move Dawn was in the throws of a battle of her own. Granted it was a fabricated one, but one that was all too real for the slave who wrestled with the fine garment of her Lady. Like a snake it's tail end tried to coil around her ankle, which with a slight stoop she was able to remove, but then they were hugging, and Nic was shoving and could people please just mind their own space so she could properly fold this curtain of a dress!
She gave a bit of a huff and a sour look at Nic as he stepped aside for the ladies to get in the carriage. She knew he took his job seriously, but-- The carriage began to move and Dawn trailed behind only for her eyes to wide as some of the cloth from Emelia's dress flapped in the wind, dangerously close to the wheel. Oh no! No don't snag! Don't--phew...The carriage drew to a stop and Dawn quickly clamored to rather the excess of the naughty dress, just wait til they got to the laundry. She'd show this chifton what for!
Fold, roll, drape over the arm. She gave an approving nod, and then finally settled into step behind Emilia. See, now this was nice. Emilia and Persephone, her and the two guards, all walking within their space. Why was this nearly impossible before. Her gaze soured and looked to the part of the dress she was holding.
Keikelius stood close to one of the stalls that was selling his wares. Letting his gaze wander this way and that over the logs and inventory of supplies. Everything had to be perfect for the night. Where citizens of Athenia would be exploring the stands and stalls. The Feast of Sinners had always been a major day for business, and passing up on the opportunity to make a little extra profit was not in Keikelius' nature.
"Stock three more cases of wine," Keikelius noted to the merchant before him. "Four if you're feeling primarily lucky tonight. I'm sure your fellow citizens will drink through it on this night," he noted coldly, folding the parchment slowly and tucking it under his arm.
For once, he was dressed in a formal chiton. Walking in public among the preparations were not a formal affair, but the chance of running into another noble individual, or even the royalty... the chances were high. And those chances warranted formality.
Giving a curt nod to the merchant, he started back down the streets in the direction of the tent of performers. He had watched them begin to set up the tent earlier in the morning. Never had he been all that excited for the performances of children, but the morning had seen him doing absolutely nothing else but planning and organizing. Content that everything had been put in its rightful place, the Lord slipped himself into the performer's tent, taking a moment to glance around.
Immediately spotting the princesses of Athenia, the man paused. Putting his calmest expression on his features, he gave a deep nod from outside of their quarters, turning his gaze to the performers who were seeming to prepare for their performance.
Pleased to see the excited faces of the citizens of the city milling around below her raised seating, Persephone was gladdened that such an event could bring together the populace of what she hoped would one day be her own kingdom.
As she glanced around she saw parents pulling children onto their shoulders or boys pointing and smiling at the bars held aloft by the central circus, curious as to what they might be for.
To height everyone expectations the sounds of animals could be heard around the inner recesses of attached tents. The roars of lions and the whinnies of several horses could be heard over the crowd. By the slithering hand gestures and the tongues between teeth that Persephone could see young children making nearer the entrance to those hidden passages, she surmised that those close could also hear snakes.
Despite her age of two and twenty, Persephone could not help a feeling of childish giddiness and excitement curl in her middle as she smiled at Lord Iason beside her and then her sister on her other side. As their father had gone back to the palace, Persephone now occupied the central and most prominent seat on the raised staging, her intended and her potential heir on either side. There was a row of seating behind the three of them for additional nobles and royal guests, while Persephone and Emilia's retinue and guards took up their stations at the back.
Upon seeing Keikelius of Stravos to one side of the raised area, Persephone brightened and raised a hand to indicate him to come forward. As soon as he was within hearing distance she spoke up, indicating the chairs just behind her.
"Please, Lord Keikelius, won't you come join us?" She asked with a smile.
Social outings where never Belen's thing. Being a very anti-social and loner type, it was no surprise he didn't enjoy the many festivities that were painted along Greece. Large crowds and loud music was never something he appeared interested in, he much preferred the quiet and emptiness of the wilderness. Although, in reality that was rather false. The wilderness could be one of the most crowded and loudest places, beating out all of three kingdoms combined. If anything, Belen didn't mind the crowds or the noise, what he did mind however was the glances he got, or the judgement placed on him. Within the wilderness you weren't judged, you fought, you hunted, you survived. Yet over the past month, now reaching the second month, Belen's life had been thrown so wildly off course, the comfort of the hunt was no longer accessible to Belen. So in an odd way he needed the hustle and bustle of a festival. After all it was better than sitting in a room with nothing but his thoughts of hate and despair running a muck.
It hadn't been long since he had gotten back from Taegnea. After spending some time healing there, he had returned, just in time for the Feast of Sinners. Using what coin he had left Belen had managed to buy new clothes within Taegnea, and a far quicker trip back. He had marched most of the way there the first time with broken hands and draped in rags, so a trip back by vehicle in new clothes was far nicer.
Walking through to the Central, Belen came up looking surprising well groomed. Marching up, Belen could of been seen wearing a dark brown tunic, with a forest green toga draped over his body, keeping with the general colour scheme Belen was so use too. His usually messy hair seemed to of been cleaned and brushed back, whatever stumble he had gained over the past weeks was shaved off completely, and in a trying odd turn Belen was even seen wearing sandals. Yet for however groomed Belen appeared, his multitude of scars still shown out. A few newer than the rest, such as the one on his chin, as well as a few lying underneath his clothing. However the item of clothing which attracted the most glances had to of been the leather eye patch strapped over his right eye.
As for weaponry? Well in an odd turn Belen didn't bring any, not even his bow which he was so attached too. Then again he wasn't much use with a bow at this point. Despite his countless hours of training since he had gotten back to Athenia, his improvements brought him no where close to the level he was before his injury. It was no doubt he was getting better with time and training, however he was no were close to being as lethal as he was before.
Walking through Belen felt somewhat naked, it felt odd to wear no armour, and not have the weight of a quiver on his back. Yet it was a breath of fresh are, for his nerves to calm down, and feel as if there wasn't danger around every corner. It was even a nice sight too see guards lurking around the place, meaning if anything was to happen, Belen wouldn't need to step in, unless absolutely necessary. Sure, Belen knew their job was to protect the nobles and royalty that wandered around, however they also had a duty to the public.
Wandering up too the huge tent, he slowly gathered in with many other spectators. He wasn't all too interested in the other activities, instead the preforming troupe had captivated his attention. Even if Belen was no performer himself, he definitely had history with those types. Old history, but history never the less.
The word for the day had become 'stamina' as Bas found himself out of bed before the sun had fully risen to assist with setting up the main performance area. His job, mainly, was pointing at things that needed to be done, telling people to be careful handling expensive equipment, and professionally pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing heavily. Gradually, the list of things to be done had grown shorter and shorter until the sun rose on the day. The only troupe members he had not seen out and assisting were the performers, who had been given strict orders by Phineus to rest up for the night to follow. Likely, the performers were waking slowly as the crew was beginning to dissipate to their sleeping quarters.
Basilides started towards his, gingerly opening the door for fear of waking Zephyrus, only to be a bit disappointed to find the bed already empty. With a huff of a sigh, he closed the door quietly and moved towards his own storage chests, digging through the usual workday fabrics to the plush, rich fabric stored at the bottom. Setting them neatly to the side, he stripped himself of the damp, dirty chiton and crossed the room to wash up.
For being common born, he was a man of fine tastes, and given his job of procuring enough coin to both keep the troupe running, stocked, and paid, as well as securing enough for their future, he had to look the part. Once he was properly cleaned, perfumed, groomed, and clothed, he checked his leatherbound folio for his schedule of the day, and made his rounds.
A morning banquet with the Merchants Guild, a luncheon with a collection of veteran patrons, and wine with a few of the city organizers to finalize the order of events so the final schedules could be posted around the city. On the surface, it did not seem like a great deal of work, but having not slept for a while - nor would he for a while - he was exhausted by the time the sun was beginning to set.
At last, he started to make his way into the tent in the Central Plateia, checking in with some of the performers to see if they needed anything before the night continued on. Once it did, it would be a long ride that would not stop until the next sunrise. Thankful for his height, he looked over the lithe performers heads for a familiar tuft of curls, but before he could find Zephyrus, his attention was drawn to his royal spectators, their patrons for the evening. It was not everyday that he could say he had royal coin in the coffers. He was content to not draw their attention to him at the moment - he knew they were constantly surrounded by nobles and others vying for a moment of royal attention. Instead, he stood off towards the side of the stage, doublechecking his folio.
Following her husband around like a lost little puppy was not the way that Circenia operated. Keikelius was going to tend to business. Sure, it was how she was able to live the life that she wanted, but it was all a bit dull for her liking. She had no care in the world and no need to mettle with his supervision of the shops. Instead, she spent extra time at their home. Extra time making sure that she would be presentable to all that would be there. It took hours to please the mistress of the household as the slaves and ladies were treading lightly. Circenia had a wicked tongue and words that would never be spoken in public harshly whipped through the air at them.
When the reflection in the glass was finally to her liking, Circenia gave a nod and agreed to make her way down to the festivities. She was expected to be there. She could only imagine the stories that might get their starts if she didn’t make an appearance. So many years in a row she had been there, all of them, with the exception of where a pregnancy had fallen. Not that she would miss it unless she were gravely ill anyhow. Any excuse to show off was taken with elation.
She hadn’t bothered gathering her children like a duck after her ducklings for this particular event. Sometimes she would, but they all knew about it and they were all reaching an age that they should be able to get to these things themselves. She would speak firmly later if they didn’t choose to maintain their obligations. Circenia was alone as she walked with purpose to the place to sit and watch the performance.
On approach, she quickly recognized the black, peppery locks of her husband. Her eyes giving a slight gaze up and down. She so wished he would dress formally more often. There was nothing wrong with being a little showy sometimes. Or all the time, in the case of the lady of Stravos. Her steps were hurried, but not in a way to look rushed. She noticed the princesses and where his attention was in an instant. "Pardon my tardiness." Her words in muted tones towards Kei.
Her eyes then were directed towards her niece as she spoke and invited Keikelius up to sit behind them. It was an advantageous location and would get them notice. Circenia politely smiled and gave a nod to them. She admired how they had grown into such beauties. Her hand stretched out to allow her husband to help her to her seat before she would greet them once up, or allow Kei to speak first.
The invitation did not go unnoticed, especially when the invitation came from Princess Persephone. His only hesitation came when his wife entered the tent, dressed as formally as ever. Immediately, he straightened up slightly, almost impossibly, settling his shoulders back and let his gaze wander her form. She was stunning, as usual. Any other man’s jaw would have likely been on the floor if they’d seen her walking toward them.
Then again, so would their entrails, if Keikelius had anything to say about it.
Never one to show blatant affection in public, Keikelius carefully reached for his wife’s hand, bowing slowly and pressing his lips to her knuckles in greeting. She was not late, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Circenia was quite aware of Keikelius’ opinion on tardiness and being early to events. However, the way she had dressed this morning had completely excused her in his mind.
“I am pleased that you joined me,” Keikelius said impassively, keeping his tone monotone. Then his gaze flitted to the two princesses, “Thank you, my princess,” he said quietly, letting his gaze wander back to Circenia. He backed into the isle, carefully guiding her to one of the seats behind the princesses. When she was settled, he sat beside her, releasing her hand and glancing forward.
The show had never exactly been his favorite thing, but Circ tended to enjoy it. Thus, he attended with her. Whether she actually liked it or simply wanted to be seen, however, was a question that Keikelius had never asked. He didn’t need to. Circenia was her own woman and he had never once disallowed her to attend an event such as this. Save for the time when she was so heavily pregnant with one of their children that he’d vehemently refused behind closed doors, instead plying her with his presence and affections.
It had been a happy alternative, to both of their delights.
“I do hope that the show will be pleasant for you,” Keikelius commented to Persephone and Emilia, giving only the slightest of smirks to show his approval for their attendance. The abundance of guards bothered him not. The feast of sinners was to be a joyous time. Besides, the profits that he garnered from the event were often extreme.
The feast was simply good for business. That alone kept him happy and pliant.
Keikelius glanced just slightly toward his wife, taking in her figure once more. Only she would be able to read the possessiveness behind his expression.
The crowd streamed in, the energy that filled the temporary space erected for the performers to show their talents and skill slowly filling with electricity and excitement, palpable as everyone settled in their seats to await for the performance of the Children as they were promised. From his position at the back of the tent, hidden behind where his fellow performers hustled and bustled to get prepared, Zephyrus watched the streaming crowd, easily identifying the commonborn folk from the nobles purely from their dressage.
Slipping his leather gloves on, as the acrobat turned to watch the fire-lit ring get unhooked, he frowned. "What's going on?" he murmured, walking up to the two assistants and paused them midway through unhooking it. The darker haired one looked at him in surprise, the answer tumbling quickly. "Phineus tried to test it this morning and it did not turn out as planned... so he told us to take it off, and that you are to perform on your regular ring."
The slender male stared at his leather gloves, frowning as his gaze swapped between the ring, his outfit, and then he shook his head. "No. Let it remain. But hook my two regular rings up - and a rope right down the middle." His instructions were quick and curt, as he wandered off. Pulling off the leather gloves, Zephyrus dodged between the snake charmers and stilt walkers - avoided the bareback riding horse-tricksters, and then bent down to his rucksack, where he pulled out his regular black pants.
There, and completely disregarding his companions (for they all were used to it), he slipped out of his leather bottoms and put on his regular pants, just as the trumpets blared and an annoucement went out for all to take their seats- for the show was about to begin.
Zepyrus grinned. Picking up one fire-proof glove, he hitched himself up on the unlit ring of fire dowsed in firestarter, and secured himself right in the middle, signalling for it to be lifted, one hand gripped on the hoop while the other held a small torch, the only thing that showed there was someone on the ring. Right in front of him as the tent was darkened, was the long rope he had instructed to be hitched up as well. Once he felt the jerk that meant the hoop was secured, he reached his foot out in the dark,managing to hook the roop around his ankle, where he deftly knotted it around it. Once he was certain, Zephyrus waited for the booming voice of one of their performers to welcome everyone within the tent. The moment the words "Let the show - begin!" rang out, the acrobat simultaneously let his bottom drop from the hoop.
Using his leather-cladded glove to grab the ring as the bottom half of his body was secured by the rope he had knotted around himself, Zephyrus brushed the small torch he held on the ring. The dowsed hoop immediately burst into flames, and the acrobat timed it perfectly so he would drop the torch to the sandy ground below where it would get extinguished, and at the same time let his hold drop from the firey ring that lit up the tent, to hang precariously by his ankle, back and forth, grinning as the tent blew up with applause.
Zephyrus grinned - this was what the natural performer was born for, to be in the spotlight as he did what he did best. With pure muscular strength, he yanked himself up, twisting his body so now he held the rope purely by upper arm strength, letting the rope fall before he performed a series of complicated acts which had him ascending and descending the rope according to the timed music that was being played below.
As Keikelius of Stravos and his wife Circenia came to join Persephone, Emilia and Iason in the top box, Persephone kept her back and neck ramrod straight as Keikelius took up a seat just behind her. It was one to display oneself as strong and commanding before a crowd of thousands kept a safe distance. It was just as necessary, though entirely different to keep your cool and the impression of your countenance just as strong in the face of an individual foe only a few inches behind you.
But this was not to perturb Persephone. Else she would not have invited the parents of her strongest rival for the throne to come and sit with her - behind her - at a public event. It was in this moment that she would be able to show her grace, poise and commanding spirit before many of her own people... including Keikelius and Circenia themselves.
Her murmured response of -
"And to you..." In wishing them enjoyment of the show, was eclipsed by the dimming of torches within the large tent. When they had ended, the flaps of the structure were raised to allow patronage inside. Now, they were allowed to drop, cutting off the natural light sources while several of the burning torches around the outside of the crowd were also silenced. The cloth room was now swarthy, murky and almost romantic in aura until suddenly the master of the ring instructed the event and performance to begin.
Torches were relit and the with light came a spectacle to behold. The one most astonishing to the young princess' eyes was that of a child - a boy, surely? though she could not be certain from this distance - freeing himself from a ring of flame, only to catch and secure his body onto a singular rope hanging from the central arc of the fabric dome.
Persephone watched, having to use conscious thought to keep her jaw from dropping open but unable to refrain a wide-eyed gaze as she watched the young man work his body around the rope and perform all sorts of tricks.
When the creature was wrapped in the long white rope - secured around his hip, his waist or his shoulder, Persephone felt calm and simply marvelled at his body strength. It was when he loosened such twists and simply held on that she could only be shocked at his reckless bravery. When the boy seemed to drop from the rope, sliding suddenly with dips and booms in the music, Persephone couldn't help the small but shocked inhale that her lungs clawed at as she felt certain the performer were about to fall to his death.
Each and every time he, instead, amazing in his ability to still his fall, control his descent and return back to the heights from whence he came.
Seated next to her sister on the raised dais that held the best view and was also viewed the most from the whole tent, Emilia collected her gown, turned over her shoulder to ensure herself that Nicholai was still by her side (his presence always ensured Emilia's safety afterall), and with Dawn next to her, the youngest Xanthos princess settled herself in to watch the show. As the Stravos family streamed in to join them in the show, Emilia nodded in curt respect to the lord and lady, who was also simultaneously her aunt and uncle.
While she had no close relations with her elder relatives, Emilia's realation with their daughter Danae was not the best of relations between cousins. As such, as the two entered the seats and took up the spaces behind, the young princess could not help but glance around to see if her lifelong thorn in her side had come along with her parents.
Thankful that the angry young Stravos seemed nowhere around, instead the brunette turned when Keikelius spoke, and gave a small smile as was courtesy, well taught by the tutors her sister had hired for her. Turning to Circenia, Emilia nodded respectfully as well. Her aunt was a beautiful lady, yet a part of Emilia was cautious with her, especially from Danae's treatment of the young princess. While Emilia was well aware that the Stravos heir, Elias, was a fine specimen of a male, it did not negate the fact that Danae and Chara were both not the best role models she had, and as such it made Emilia tread warily with her aunt.
"I do hope the performances meet your expectations as well, my lady." Her tone every bit respectful as she spoke. "Tis a pity that my cousins seemed to be missing this show, but I hope we'll be able to see their attendance later at the festivities in the palace." Emilia smiled, straightening up again before turning to the show. For the Stravos's t o pick skipping the night gala would be an absolute snub to the royal family... they would not do that, would they?
By then, the torches were lit, a deep gong sounding out to signify the beginning of the show. As she settled back in her seat, her eyes fell upon the show, and they soon widened as the young boy in the spotlight did death defying tricks, before he somehow managed to transition from rope to a circular metal structure hung on the other side of the arena, performing his impossibly dextrous acts there, in ways in which made Emilia wonder how it was humanly possibly for the bodies to bend.
When his performance ended with a final flip through the air, and he landed with both feet on the ground. Emilia noticed him stumble a little, but covered it nicely by skidding across the sandy ground with a confident smile, and the whole tent burst into applause at the conclusion of his performance, the lights dimming before the next act came out, a woman with half a dozen snakes at her beck and call. As an eerie sounding music began playing, and the snakes began swaying to the woman's directive, Emilia leaned to her sister with a cheeky grin, "Perhaps one of my lessons could be to learn what the acrobat has performed? That I wouldn't mind."
Circenia's own posture mimicked that of the elder princess. She could remember once upon a time when she had been in their position. She was in the front row of the box where all could see, watch, and most importantly - judge. The people loved while concurrently hated the royal family. She always knew that it was mostly out of jealousy. Those needy green envious eyes of a rival always seemed to be the basis for most of the complaints as she was growing up. A chin tipped upward and eyes forward were good enough to pass them by and just know that she was better than the lot of them.
There wasn't time to sneak in a reply to Emilia's remark about the whereabouts of her children. At it was for the best. Circenia internalized it in the worst way possible as lids lowered with a slight glare as soon as the young princess turned her attention to the glamour of the show. But, she wasn't necessarily mad at Emilia. She was more now wanting to whip her own children for not attending this, even if they did - they hadn't made themselves apparent to the princesses. Circenia would likely remedy that later. They would all have a delightful family chat.
Dynamics of the families were never quite great. And if Minas would have had a son, maybe it would be better. Yet, he didn't. And that meant that her own son had a good chance to be King of Athenia. The rightful heir to the throne. She would fight with every part of her being to make that happen. It was her main ambition. And that was the root of all the animosity and tension between them all. Speaking of family that was present... where had her brother been? Was he ill? She shifted and began thinking harder, but soon was distracted by the man who was the center of the show.
Circenia had seen many spectacles throughout her life of luxury, but this was something radical and new. He was all by himself, yet dared with his life just as often as the gladiators. The music booming and his body moving with each beat. The lady moved forward at the edge of her seat as she watched, only while most might have been concerned and hoping that he succeeded - there was a slight want in her to see him fall. It was a terrible thought to have, but it was the same reason she watched the boat races to see the damage. The lady wasn't a nice person. She pretended to be kind, but most knew the truth by now anyhow. She was selfish.
They were behind the princesses and not many would be able to see as she reached out and grabbed Keikelius' hand when the man dropped again. She held on for the rest of the routine and let go to join in the applause.
Her hands clapping together didn't keep her from eavesdropping Persephone and Emilia in front of her. "That is not befitting a princess. Languages, history, art, music. That is all you need." Even though later that night she had all the intentions in the world to tease about the applications of such aerobatics in the bedroom to her husband. That perhaps maybe it would be something a princess could learn to please her husband someday, but that was not a way she was wanting to think of her dear niece, Emilia.
Belen found himself sitting down in one of the lower stands, surrounded by far more of his own class. Those who called themselves hunters, carpenters and the rest. No doubt nobility was sitting further up, in order to get the best view, but even with his now one eye, Belen still found his perception more than capable to grasp the amazement of the whole show.
Although, that wouldn't do much when the whole tent was doused into darkness. With the only thing giving any semblance of light being a small torch. Through the flickering of those flames, Belen found himself staring at the acrobat. His features were masked and darkened for the most part, but for what he could see, a heavy sense of familiarity washed over him. He focused his attention on this one acrobat as his figure lifted through the air, his body barely hanging on that ring.
With the voice of the acrobat booming over the tent, Belen watched as the body fell back, the ring bursting into flames as the remains of that torch fell to douse itself out. Belen found himself on the edge of his seat, his eyes fixated on Zephyrus. As the tent around him erupted into applause, Belen found himself smiling. Not a smile of diffidence which he found himself doing so often nowadays, or a shadowy smile, instead a genuine happy smile.
As those around him gasped and whispered about the acrobats upper body strength. Belen found himself watching his every movement. How Zephyrus' body flowed like water, twisting like a serpent under the summers heat. The Hunter found himself remembering older times, times when he only had one scar to stain his body, times when he would sit and watch Zephyrus as he moved his body in ways that the hunter previously thought impossible. While everyone seemed to appear confused and amazed by the whole act, Belen found himself sitting back, only commenting on how much Zephyrus had improved over these past years. In a sense Belen could almost understand why he ran away to join the circus.
As he saw Zephyrus enact his final flip, and therefore the ending of his performance, Belen found himself on his feet, being the one to start off the pure eruption of applause. With whistles and cheers, the archer chuckled at the small stumble Zephyrus seemed to commit by the end. Although with him easily recovering, there was no doubt just how much Zephyrus had truly improved over those past years.