Lola Asina—Year 2018 AS
My white-painted fingers rubbed the itch on the big, round, red nose I wore, covering the real one underneath. The sound of people coming through the giant red curtains was a wondrous noise to hear.
"Okay, Lola, you can do this," I assured myself.
Looking at the mirror ahead of me, I adjusted myself—my dress, striped in dull reds and pale blues. My face is like a doll's, white and distant. My pale gray eyes looked across the mirror at myself. I fixed my ruffle wrapped around my neck. My hands moved shakily as they went up, fixing my half-red, half-hoar hair, which reached only to my chin—and tidying the clown dress that came all the way down to my knees. "The frilled hem was a bit extra," I thought. But it was fine. Good enough. Before I finally walked through the red curtains, I arranged my small, crooked red hat. Taking in the sound, my eyes looked around at the flowing, stark white particles. Aether was sure today.
"TODAY!" Sir Adelard began. "We have the greatest clown Storm City has ever seen!" His shouts echoed throughout the circus tent.
I pushed past the curtains, walking with deliberate steps, letting myself be drowned out by the world beyond.
"Gentle lords and ladies, here I present to you the FOOL of Aurum Dominus!"
Everyone erupted from their seats, clapping their hands, their applause mingling with the sound of the catapults blasting aether into the air. Little kids from the distant audience seats tried to reach for me; mothers and fathers held them tightly while the rest continued their applause. My eyes danced all around the enormous circus tent. And as I stepped on the platform in the middle, I felt the anxiety creeping through me. I lowered myself to my grand audience, bowing to them.
"The FOOL!" a girl screamed with all the excitement she held.
"YES!" another kid yelled.
I lifted myself, glancing left and right. I never had this many spectators before. A big, wide smile spread across my face. Aether bended to my Will; I could feel its advent through my veins like winterserpents grazing my skin. I raised my right arm fully up in the air, left leg ahead. I inhaled the last air I would take for the next couple of minutes and danced. Aether, following me, I created small white platforms beneath my feet, stepping on them as I rose to the air. I tumbled in the air, aether forming a platform right before I could begin to fall.
Cheers and laughter arose at every corner of the circus tent, blessing my ears. I jumped on a platform only big enough for a single hand to fit. Everyone went wild, eager to see what I would do. Standing on one hand, my legs fully up in the air, I jumped again and again. Hopping on another small platform, standing on one hand. I leaped up and tumbled, creating small podiums to stand straight. I couldn't stop myself from looking down and seeing how high I was in the air, which made my eyes darken for a moment.
"Lola," I uttered. "Get a hold of yourself."
Jumping back, I let an aetheric blast from one of the catapults hit me. Lunging me up in the sky, nearly reaching the ceiling of the circus tent. My hand briefly brushed the top as I began to fall once more. Waving aether all around me, I laughed like the maniac of a clown I had to be.
"She is AWESOME!" three little girls yelled with their gargantuan ticker.
My ears perked at their words; hearing their pleasure and enjoyment was one of a kind. Aether formed all around me. I followed it, running across the white platforms of aether I created simultaneously. I hopped and danced all around the chamber of spectators. The fool jumps on in, closing her eyes, letting only the sound of entertainment fill her ears: a dream yet to happen, a gift to be given. Moving from platform to platform, I laughed. Witnessing what was to be true joy for the first time in years. To be the clown of this kingdom, the fool of all their hearts.
Up in the air, down in the vale. Hearing the swing of gods and Death. Storm's End covers the distant world I call "home". Suffocation in their desire, let it happen. I am who I am, and who I am is enough. Blasting again and again, moving like the fool I am, like a storm yet to have an end. Blazing at the sides, standing atop aether, glancing at the world I am encircled by—claps and cheers everywhere, echoing their gratification.
I dashed up to the sky, relishing the joy of being the fool. Flowers thrown at me, kids crying my name, speaking in their innocence and laughing their hearts out, and giving voice to their love for me.
Bursting all the way up into the sky, I closed my eyes and descended towards the audience seats so fast that everyone shouted. I merely sneered, catching myself with a podium of aether formed right before I could crush on a couple of children. The small kid under my platform stared at me in disbelief, and more came. Everyone is clapping their hands up in the air, shouting the fool's name. Shadows of them coming at me like a tide. I am their fool. I swept my foot, falling onto the audience as they carried me, throwing me back into the air. Kids trying to grip my hands and toes, wanting me to give them my barren attention. They are all looking at me.
"I LOVE her!" two boys screamed at the same time.
"PRAISE THE FOOL!" A girl tore her lungs out.
Thrusted to the air by my beloved audience, I am back in the sky as they bellow. Dancing across the aether, flowering the grace of the purple, I am alive. Laughter vomiting from between my tongue and teeth as I soar high in the sky, fire swaying the circus. And here, at the forth of my ascension, I let the fool fall to the ground, opening my arms all the way, leaning aether with the snaps of my fingers. I hit the ground softly, then leaped back to the sky once more. Blue, black, white, and orange fire covered my entire body before I released it, letting it drown the world. The fool is no longer alone.
"Very good job, Lola." Sir Adelard came into my small tent, clapping his hands, voice rusty as ever.
He was my circus owner. A middle-aged man, balding at the crown of his brown hair, with soft teal eyes, wearing a classic top hat and a very fashionable mustache.
"T-T-Thank you very much, Sir Adelard," I said, bowing slightly.
Sir Adelard quickly shook his head.
"Ah, no, no. Please, don't, Lola. You bring glory to our circus. I am sure that the Dream King will love to watch you."
I blushed, scratching my cheek, glancing away.
"I-I am sure King Orinn has better things to do than watch a f-fool like me."
Sir Adelard chuckled loudly.
"Don't lower yourself, dear Lola. You are a great clown. Now, if you allow me…" He placed a purse of coins onto my table, "This is for your marvelous performance."
My blush deepened, reddening even my ears.
"T-Thank you very much, sir."
"No problem. Now, if you please, I need to attend some naughty meetings. There are many single, gorgeous mothers out here."
I giggled curtly.
"O-Of course, Sir Adelard."
Sir bowed to me, leaving my tent on a whim. I turned my chair around, looking at the pale paint I wore off in the mirror. There were no smiles here to warm me.
I wiped the white paint off my face, revealing the smooth color hidden beneath. My eyes were more tired than usual, and my real hair, which is all brown, short to the chin, showed itself to me. My real face. The girl under the clown. Looking down at my burn-scarred hands, I felt the white motes chittering all around the tent, as if aether is mocking me.
The city center was beaming. Walking here on foot was a bitter choice that made my legs ache. Rain had begun to fall from the distant skies, the Crimson Moon casting its light over the world. Wind moved through the crowded streets, its voice mournful, carrying the breaths of nobles and peasants alike.
Tall buildings and sleek people all around me. I felt out of place here. Everyone was wearing luxurious robes, and me… Funny enough, I still looked like a mere fool. But not blue I must, everyone here mostly belongs to a Great House, there wasn't much I had to be gloomy about.
Fog had fallen on the city, covering the roads. Where powerful Awakened walked by, some stared at me with curiosity, some with disgust. But most just walked past me without even glancing. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe. What a fool could want much.
I stepped into a public alehouse where many different sides of Storm City came to drink. Feeling gazes on me was terrifying, it was disturbing and meek. Everyone was talking loudly; it was annoying.
"I just want to have a moment of peace."
Sitting down at the bar counter next to a long, hoar-haired man. I glanced around, feeling alien to the spot. Some furious-looking men were glaring at me, their gaze uncomfortable. I chuckled peculiarly and immediately turned my head back.
"Don't be an idiot, Lola. These are not the outskirts," I murmured to myself. Calming the girl after the fool.
"What would be your desire, madam?" a bartender with a very funny accent and a weird pointed mustache asked.
"O-Oh, I-I…"
I flushed red, mumbling. I had completely gotten lost in thought. This is so embarrassing.
"I-I will get a goblet of Saevio, please."
The bartender smiled and nodded.
"As you wish, madam."
His face was the opposite of the usurpers and rapers. Great Houses would not choose to pick this kind of an alehouse. He moved to the shelves, grabbing a bottle of the blue wine and pouring it into a glass.
"Here you go, madam, please, don't drink it all at once."
I thanked the man with a gentle smile and cupped the goblet of Saevio in both hands, holding onto it dearly. I stared down at the glass of wine, its odd color was strangely relaxing. I had never drunk Saevio before. Only knew how hard it was from Sir Adelard. From the yellow aetheric crystal on the bar wall, externalizing the speech of the Dream King. He was at Bilda Town, questioned about the outsider Awakened called "Fate's Masterpiece".
"Realms and worlds. A life on the other side of the cosmos. Ah, how aspiring," the man next to me uttered.
I tried to ignore him, feeling stiff. The sentiment of absurdity crept up my neck.
"I am talking to you, girl, aye."
My eyes widened instantly, almost dropping the wine from my hands. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, flushing red.
"I-I am sorry! I thought—"
"Ugh, you kids nowadays, always so apathetic."
He shook his head, sloshing down an entire bottle of Umbra Rubra, a red wine produced by the folk of Bloodbound City. Staring at him with bewilderment, I scowled.
"I-I am not a kid."
The drunken man hovered the bottle in his hand like a stick.
"Kid, teen, adult, what's the difference?" He sneered loudly. "Deathdamn Masterpiece! Orinn has bad luck with kids."
I cocked my head, trying to sound firm:
"The Dream King has no need for luck."
The drunkard merely rolled his eyes, sucking his wine.
"Eh… This is so delicious. Now, what is thy name, girl? You don't look like you're from around here."
I narrowed my eyes, looking away and sipping my wine, its effects surging directly to my head.
"I-I am Lola… Lola Asina."
The man fully turned his head around, glaring at me up and down.
"You look like a fool."
"I-I can… You…"
I trailed off, gazing at the man's face with awe. He had four scars on his face, gentle crimson eyes, a sharp, proud face, young yet aged by war. He carried himself like a drunk, but he was more than that.
"You are… You're Oscytel Aldo Sangius, the War-Eye."
He scratched his sharp chin, looking bored already.
"'Dream King', 'Star Slayer', 'Marshals', 'War-Eye', 'Boy of Miracles'… All just names to be given to powerful men and women. The Old Empire was much tidier than whatever…" He pointed at me with his bottle of wine. "This is. Twelve kingdoms, and they are called cities. One is conquered, under the dominion of Storm City; their own great bastards rule the other ten. But only one true tyrant that monarchs the realm all as one. War is much easier to control than peace."
"I-I don't understand."
The War-Eye sighed, placing his bottle on the counter he looked at me with his red eyes.
"How old are ye, girl?"
I paused, my eyes darting away for a second, feeling a needless pressure on myself. The end of living as the fool lives on. Death comes for us all, but not for the fool.
"I-I am nineteen years of age. B-Born on the outskirts, near the Niya Town, I—"
"Okay, shut up. I did not ask for your damn life story."
"S-Sorry."
I looked at the crystal screen again, watching the Dream King talk about how the Red Lotus Rebellion is a mere outlaw havoc to be dealt with at whim. The discomfort in his voice is yet clear.
"Kill the rebels, build a fearlord, create the world, end the conflict. 'Death comes for us all', how much of a dilemma." Lord Oscytel murmured.
"D-Do you not favor King Orinn?"
Rubbing his nose, he sneezed violently.
"D-Death may always give you a day more," I wished him.
"Damn, I need an army of you naive daughters of Tarn." His brows formed a frown. "Who in their right mind would favor a bum of a king like that?"
I instantaneously looked around to see if anyone had heard us. Seeing no dicey gazes, I leaned closer to War-Eye.
"He does his best to rule the Dream Realm." I couldn't say more. Looking back at the crystal for a moment, then back at Sir Oscytel. "Maybe not anymore."
He smiled mischievously.
"Good girl, you've done well. Now, why would a sweet girl like you drink here, in an alehouse infested by rapers, cutthroats and molesters?"
I gulped, feeling the raw sensation of dread. My belly quivered at the thought of what everyone here could do to me. Of how they can put their cocks to my mouth and between my legs, of how they can slash my neck with no one left to remember me. My vision lost color for an eerie, brief moment of fear. As my mind tried to get a hold of the state I was in, the fool hid behind.
"I-I am not a-afraid."
War-Eye burst into laughter, spewing Umbra Rubra everywhere.
"'Unafraid, ' you say, huh, girl?! You will drown me in my own shit. You are everything but unafraid."
"I-I am not afraid," I shot back. "And as I can see, you are the one who is scared!"
I regretted what I said instantly. Everyone in the bar went silent, all watching the fool of a girl I was. War-Eye's entire demeanor shifted, his face hardened, mouth opening and closing repeatedly.
"L-L-Lord Oscytel, I am sorry. I beg of you, m'lord, I did not mean it."
I begged, thus to let the scene calm. But the silence lingered; it lingered until Lord Oscytel's mouth twitched into a smirk. A mirthful, insane laugh tore out of him:
"HAHAHA! Girl! You should have seen your face. All winey and stupid. Ah… Never had this much fun from even a whore."
I looked all around the bar as everyone began to laugh violently, trying to grasp what was happening was impossible. Sir Oscytel got up abruptly, turning to the entire bar and shouting:
"Drink whatever you desire, my brothers! I—War-Eye of the Great Purple Awakening War—shall be paying for every one of hard sons of bitches!"