"Wasn't that fantastic, folks? Let's give it up for the flying Twins, Jada and Jaden!"

The thunderous applause did nothing to ease the throbbing in Amara's temples. She patiently smacked away the hand of the preening elf that wouldn't stop fiddling with her costume. "Relax, Vaeri. You're rubbing all the glitter off."

Vaeri took a step back, flapping her hands anxiously. "Sorry, sorry! I just want everything to be perfect!"

"This is Carnival la Poirier. I think 'acceptable' is the best we can hope for."

Vaeri blanched.

Amara shook her head and patted the elf's arm. "Nothing is going to happen. The dress is perfect. It's not going to fall off, I promise."

Vaeri wrung her hands. "But what if your…pets…rip it open? Or the skirt catches on the platform? Or, gods forbid, a seam rips? Then it'll be my fault the act fails and Mr. Poirier will fire me and I'll have to go back to Boltangate to that awful seamstress and-"

"Vaeri!"

The elf froze midsentence, her pupils pinpricks in her violet eyes.

Amara clasped her cheeks in her hands. "Re. Lax," she commanded. "You're working yourself up over nothing. This is the finest dress I've ever worn. Besides, Luc would never have hired you if he didn't have every confidence that you produce quality goods."

Vaeri didn't need to know that this was a flat-out lie. Judging by the smile that spread across her face, she didn't. "You mean it?"

"Absolutely," Amara replied with a smile of her own. "Now shoo. Go watch your masterpiece from the stands. You'll get a better view that way."

She sighed as Vaeri scampered off, letting the smile slip from her face. Was now the time to admit that she was nervous too? Luc didn't take very kindly to people upstaging him, and her new act had the potential to do just that. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, but that only made her heart pound faster.

"When did you sign up to be the carnival morale booster?"

Amara turned to face her brother, wrinkling her nose. "You stink."

Hendryk grinned and threw his arms open wide. "Aw, you don't want a good luck hug from your favorite brother?"

She laughed and ducked away from his wriggling fingers. "Get away from me, you disgusting peasant!"

Just as he was about to grab her in his smelly arms, Goknar poked his head around the big top curtain. "If you could be so kind as to tear yourself from your brother's arms," he said dryly, "you're up next."

Amara shoved Hendryk away and dusted herself off. "I'm coming," she told the hobgoblin, ignoring Hendryk's grumbles from behind her. Goknar nodded and led her to stage left, just in time for Silva the Swan to exit. "Good luck," whispered the naiad in passing. Amara had only enough time to nod her thanks before the announcer raised his voice again.

"Aaand next up, we have a real treat for you fine folks! She'll bewitch you with her wondrous visions! Please welcome to the big top - Amara the Incredible Illusionist!"

She sashayed out to the center of the sandy floor to thunderous applause. At least she wasn't an early act that had to perform to awkward silence - small graces. She struck a graceful ballet pose as the magical spotlights shined on her and a suspenseful hush fell over the audience.

A slow, almost mournful tune began to play, echoing throughout the rafters of the big top. Amara raised her hands, clasped in prayer, toward the ceiling as sparkling snowflakes fluttered down. She twisted her hands in a complicated gesture, a dance of fingers. Her skirt and bell sleeves flowed in a wind no one could feel. With a flutter of her fingers, she slammed her palm toward the ground.

A burst of sparks and smoke erupted from the sand. Applause erupted again the sizzling lights faded to reveal a pair of shimmering tigers locked in an intricate waltz. The music raises to a lively jig. The tigers sped up into a Hartley two-step. After several beats, the music changed again, and the dance along with it. The crowd went wild.

But Amara wasn't done. She raised her hand to the ceiling again, the spotlight following. . The tightrope now held an opaque elephant balancing a unicycle on the rope, a tiny banjo in its front feet. It played a jaunty tune that had the audience clapping along in delight - and of course, the tigers danced along.

The best things come in threes. Amara spun around und threw her hands into the air. Sparkles exploded in the air, and when they faded, faeries flooded the room. They danced in the air, forming glittering images. At first, the images were simple - a bunny rabbit hopping around, a pair of birds flitting about a willow tree, a squirrel chasing a runaway nut. The children in the audience cheered the loudest.

But Amara was never satisfied with simple, not when she was capable of so much more. Throwing caution and her fear of Luc's jealousy to the wind, she increased the flow of magic to the faeries. The result was instantaneous - the next image was of a Baerth flying whale swimming over the audience with a pair of winged dolphins.

As the whale shifted into a herd of gallopping unicorns, Amara caught a glimpse of Hendryk in the wings. He flicked the side of his hand over his throat, the universal sign to wrap it up. Sne decided, against the warning bells in the back of her mind, to go out with a bang. With a roar that startled even her, the unicorns became a beautiful crimson dragon that spewed a gust of sparkling orange flames over the audience - they screamed with fear and delight.

The dragon exploded into illusory glitter that rained over the crowd. As they erupted with final applause, Amara staggered into the wings. Her legs shook so badly that she was simply glad that she collapsed behind the curtain instead of before it.

Hendryk didn't pull her to her feet. Instead, he knelt beside her, rubbing the space between her shoulders. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like I need a nap and a steak dinner." That was an understatement. Her hands were numb from the amount of magic she'd pumped through them in such a short amount of time. Every inch of her skin tingled as her body worked overtime to regenerate her spent mana. Forget moving - it took a concentrated effort just to speak.

Hendryk chuckled and scooped her into his arms bridal-style. "Well, the crowd seems to think you did fine... but we know whose opinion really matters. Think you have what it takes to be the new headliner?"

"Maybe." Hopefully not, if she was being honest. She absolutely could not handle repeating this every night. Once a week was already a big maybe. Not that it really mattered - there was not a chance that Luc was going to let her supercede him as top act of the carnival. As fond of her as he was, having practically raised her after saving her and Hendryk from the swamps, he was still top dog at Carnival la Peirior. After all, it had his name on it.

"Well, well, aren't you full of surprises." Hendryk stiffened as, speak of the fiend, Luc Peirior appeared around the corner. He adjusted the gold cufflinks on his navy suit, pinstriped with matching gold stitches. "I always knew you were a quick hand with illusions, but goodness me, that was something else."

"Thank you, Luc." Were her lips supposed to be numb?

There was something almost sinister about the dragonkin's toothy smile. She tried not to take it personally - it was the same smile he always wore. "I need to take the stage. Go get some rest. We'll discuss your future at the carnival another time. Things are looking up for you, Miss Voren."

It was only after he disappeared through the curtain that Hendryk relaxed. He grinned at Amara. "Sounds like good news to me. Ready for a snack?"

It is not like Jes did not see it coming. Every horror in Jes's mother's life followed them (including the in-laws, only Jes is blessed enough to be able to call them ex-in-laws). Jes may not have a church group trying to straighten their path, they had something better. A clique from their old middle school who enjoyed playing with Jes's life. Unlike the church group, they never attempted to burn Jes alive for being a devil incarnate. They just used their connections to get Jes fired from every job they got. It was Jes's fault for not being able to make good connections. 

“You should move, Jasmine. Get out of that shit hole”, their brother begged them on the phone when they heard about what the clique did again. 

“I can't leave mother's grave behind, Juth! Can you please stop suggesting that?", there was another thing Jes wanted to ask him to stop but it wasn't the pressing issue. 

“You! Agh. You-, okay,” he took a calming breath before he continued, “why don't you come to see me? I'll pay for the trip to mine. You can eat and sleep and take your time to figure out what to do.”

Juth was the older one of the two. He made his run when mother prayed for a way out. He lives the life mother wishes she did. Happy and blessed and happy. A loving spouse, no children, a car and an apartment in a well maintained complex where the sun lights the rooms for as long as it shows its face in the sky. 

Juth ran because he thought mother would follow. Unbeknownst to him, mother had forgotten herself beyond the pains inflicted upon her. She did not want to leave any if it, any of herself, and go anywhere. 

On her deathbed she said, “Juth, my child, I will die happy knowing you have a home,” Jes had left the room before they could hear mother say, “take Jes with you. Take them with you. If my children can see the light, I will know God did see me. God saw my patience and resilience and He rewarded me by blessing my children.” 

By the time Jes came into the room, mother had been breathing her last. She called her children's names one last time before calling God's name till her end. At least, she had died in a room with the two people that loved her and the two people she loved. 

Jes thought about mother. She was always happy to visit Juth. “Okay. I'll come by next we-”

“Today. Come by today! I'll arrange it for you. I'll handle all of it. The guest room's always ready anyway”, he pleaded. 

Jes hadn't left town after mother was buried. By now, ‘next week’ had become another word for ‘no’.

“i need to... My stuff, and my cat, there's some stuff and I don't know. Trains? Planes are kind of... Are cats allowed on trains?”, a last attempt at declining the invite was made. It was more of a plea at this point. One that Jes didn't feel bad about turning down over and over. But, if he spent his hard earned money on a ticket, guilt would make Jes go and Juth knew that. 

“Yes! Cats are allowed on trains. On planes, too! I will buy you and your cat a ticket. I'm on the website right now. There is a fli-” Jes held back from screaming by biting their tongue. 

“No! No. No trains or planes. Just, too many people and Kafka is a nervous cat. I don't want to put him in a basket for so long.” Kafka had multiple personalities that Jes introduced as per the situation called for. 

Juth didn't hesitate even for a second before changing the plan, “okay! A friend had been in town for a family business. He was scheduled to leave today. You could come with him! He has his own car. An old Cadillac, if I'm not wrong. Kafka would have plenty of space there!”

Jes's head spun. They thought back to mother's life to think of any situation where mother had dealt with something similar. God has his reasons. Trust in God. Is what mother would say if faced with something unavoidable. 

“You trust this strange man to.. be in a car with me?”, Jes lay on the floor of her childhood home (the one father lost as collateral for debt he couldn't repay. And Jes decided to buy back without telling Juth). The bare wood floors provided no comfort and the smell of humid mold gave them a headache. But it smelled like home. Home Jes was terrified to leave, like mother was. 

“Jasm-, Jes, I trust him to drive you to me safely. I can vouch for him. He's Hera's cousin. You might remember him from our wedding. You even spoke for a bit! About a game or something. Animal parking?” Jes heard their brother's smile through the phone. He was winning this. They both knew it. 

Jes did remember such a man from their brother's wedding. A tall, lanky man who wore gothic makeup and gothic formal wear (funeral formal) to the wedding. He had sat at the table Jes was stowing at to take out his handheld console and celebrate an Raymond's birthday in Animal Crossing. 

They hadn't spoken. Not really. Jes had peaked at his game. He had scooched closer and showed his screen. They had celebrated Raymond's birthday together. After, he had gone back to pretending to be a pole as the kids ran circles around him. 

Jes did not distrust him. “Arman.”

“Yes! Arman. You even remember his name. Okay, yes! He said he will be leaving today. He wants your address. He said he'll pick you up if you're on the way.” Jes's heart rate picked up. Juth couldn't know Jes lived in their childhood home. 

“Uh, no. Tell him to.. to wait by the lake park. And don't-”

“I gave him your number. He'll call you.”

“-give him my number.”

Jes's 'unable to answer phonecalls' was a new problem Juth did not know of, seeing how the call with their brother showed no signs of that problem. 

“Huh? Did you say something?”, Jes recalled the other reasons for not seeing their brother. Jes had at least five more problems he did not know of that Jes would be unable to hide in person. 

“No. I didn't say anything. Just, need to go and pack my stuff,” Jes curled into themselves and held out a hand towards the wall of their home. Paint chipped and fell into their palm immediately, but they kept their hand on the cold wall. 

“Oh, right. Okay!”, the line was quiet for a beat before Juth took another deep breath, “I know I said I trust Arman, but if he makes you the slightest bit uncomfortable, do what you have to do okay? Hit him, pepper spray him, run, do whatever. And call me. I will rush over.”

Oh Juth. 

Tears brimmed Jes's eyes. Their only living family cared so much for them even though Jes did everything to turn them away.

“Mmm. Yeah, I know. I-, I have you on speed dial.”

A relieved laugh sounded om the other end. 

Jes ran their hand over the peeling, chipping paint as the siblings said their goodbyes. They would have to say goodbye to this home too, for a short while. The thought of it filled them with anxiety that churned their stomach and formed a knot in their chest. 

Time moved slowly. They felt every second pass by. It felt as if these were the last seconds they would ever feel in this house. It felt like a blessing from God before the 6 P.M. call came in. 

Jes let their phone ring long enough for the call to end. They packed up their things and kisses every wall in the house and opened every door in the house except the backdoor and front door. Then, the front doorbell rang. 

Kafka meowed excitedly and trotted to greet the visitor at the door. Jes hadn't been able to locate Kafka before that. Kafka's real quirk was that it loved everyone but Jes. 

“Kafka, you meanie! I feed you and clean up after you!”, Jes ran after Kafka like the front door would open magically and the housecat would ran out naively. 

Kafka meowed louder as they got closer to the door. Jes was able to grab him before he scratched the door. 

Jes peaked through the peephole and saw a stranger standing outside her door. Though something about the person's stance looked familiar. 

“Who is it?”, Jes called out to the person on the other side. 

“Disappointment.” The person on the other side pulled out a cigarette from their pocket and lit it with a Zippo lighter. 

As Jes tried to think of a response, the person on the other end smoked half the cigarette before saying, “It's Arman. And I'm about to call your brother and tell him you're living in your crumbling wooden excuse of a trauma house.”

The shock of being caught made Jes yank the door open, “don't tell him!”

Arman stomped his finished cigarette butt on the cracked pavement before walking back to his Cadillac parked on the grass of Jes's home. The disrespect made Jes's blood boil. “You parked here?!”

Arman looked at Jes and put his phone to his ear, “Juth you won't believe where I found your sister!”

“Okay! Okay! I got it!”, only seconds in, and they already had conflict between them. Kafka squiggled out of their grasp and leaped into Arman's arms. 

Jes hurried to put their luggage into the car while Arman sat in the car with Kafka sleeping on his lap. 

After ten minutes, the front door was locked and it's key was tucked in the innermost pocket of Jes's luggage and the luggage was packed into the trunk like perfect Tetris rows. 

Arman started the car and rolled down the windows as he said, “hope you said your goodbyes and got everything. Once the car starts, I will not turn back no matter what you say.”

Jes glared at him but said nothing as they felt a pang in their chest. The fear of this being the last time seeing the house was growing bigger. Jes shook their head and comforted their racing heart, “I'll be back in 2 days.”

Arman scoffed but did not comment.