Chapter 1 – "Opening"
-
…
I am not a storyteller. And since my time is short, I cannot formulate a proper storyline for you. I feel, already, that distant pieces of my memory are fading into the void of the forgotten. I can tell you what I remember, but only what I remember.
The rest is not for me to say.
Shall I begin…?
…
-
…
My name I didn't find out till later. At first, I don't think I had a name. Rusalka is what you've known me by. It was given to me by Jukuna, and so that was who I became.
But that comes later.
…
-
…
I've never seemed able to recall my life prior to seven years ago. I now know why. So when I say in the beginning, I really mean from that period of time, the furthest my memory can reach.
I will start from the beginning.
…
-
I remember the Green Deviruchi. It was my home, my family, my life. We were the grandest circus in Comodo, the land of fantasies, the realm of everlasting festivities. I did not know what escapism meant. I did not know the complications in Rune Midgaard.
But more or less, I was happy, then.
I believe I was sold into the circus life at a young age. There must be some sort of story behind that, though the circus master never leaked a drop of information regarding my true past. That is not of importance, however.
I liked it there. I had nowhere else to go, even if I wanted to leave.
For the latter years of my life spent at the circus, the circus master had discovered that I had an unsuppressed reserve of dexterity, rivaling that of the most skilled of acrobats he already had.
It wasn't long before I realized all the spotlights were trained on me during our part of the show. It didn't bother me. All I knew was that the crowd, larger and louder as it got, could not touch me if I were on stage. The stage was my sanctity.
That June night, after one of our ongoing performances, I spied the circus master beckoning me from the side of the stage. This was no unusual occurrence for me, since he did that on average twice a week for the same reason. The only strange thing about this time, however, was that as I approached him near the curtain, he didn't tell me to change into another set of clothing. I was still in my stage costume.
"Who is it?" I had asked the shorter, mustached circus master who'd been looking out for me for the better part of my years in his caravan. He was a clean man, a good-natured gentleman. He'd never punished me once and I've never hesitated in speaking out or in asking him questions.
"Someone wants to see you," the little man replied. I picked up on his slight discomfort. This was new to me. Normally he would be resigned, or even irritated, when some patron of the show demanded to see me after a performance.
Without further ado, the circus master pushed aside the thick, heavy blue curtains to form a gap to the outside. Not sure how to behave unless instructed, I was a bit anxious, but I followed through without comment.
His presence hit me like a breath of fresh air. Through the evening veil of aquamarine blue, I was staring at the lithe back of a dark-haired man, a rather tall man. His straight, long hair trailed down to the small of his back, drifting gently with the breeze from the sea.
It was apparent to me that the stranger already picked up on our presence, but remained motionless until the circus master cleared his throat and addressed, "Master Jukuna?"
Jukuna. Yes, his name sounded familiar to my ears.
The dark haired man had turned to face us. I let my eyes wander over his features, as I've often done, with everyone. He, however, never glanced at me once during the whole conversation which followed.
"What is your price?"
I fell in love with his voice at once. Not only the sound of it, but also because it was the voice of someone who've seen and heard things beyond my knowledge. The authoritative voice of someone who knew his destiny in life.
"My lord…" The circus master began. I, of course, knew what they were talking about. "She is my star acrobat. Not only that… There are uncountable numbers of patrons who come just to see her on stage each night. I-"
"Is eighty enough?"
It was true that I've been brought aside to many of these conversations before. It was easy for me to discern that I was a valuable asset to the circus master, and no matter how hard they tried to persuade him, he refused to give me up.
This was the first time I've seen him struck speechless.
"I-…I beg your pardon?" the short man said rather breathlessly.
"Eighty million," I heard the one named Jukuna clarify. Judging by the countenance the circus master wore, I could guess it was a large sum of money.
"But you must never mention her again," the dark haired man added.
The circus master cleared his throat and spoke quietly. "How do you propose me to do that?"
By then I was staring at Jukuna with a mixture of excitement and dread. He was the first person who had moved the circus master into thinking about selling me off. What was going to happen to me?
I didn't wish to leave.
"Place someone else in charge and leave quietly. Go somewhere far away. I shall send people to escort you there."
I saw the shorter man consider this carefully. At last, to my surprise, he turned to me and asked, "I will leave this up to you. Will you want to leave with this man?"
Needless to say, I lost my voice. I observed the circus master's face to see if there was any hint of what he wanted me to say. Was there a hidden meaning somewhere? I couldn't tell.
So, I looked to the dark haired stranger and found him looking directly back at me for the first time. For some reason all my thoughts came to a standstill under his gaze.
Then he reached out a hand to me and told me, "Come with me."
I knew then that I had to. I don't know why.
"Yes," I had replied, although I hadn't moved from where I was.
He looked back to the circus master and nodded. "Then it's settled."
I only managed to tear my eyes away when the little man nodded agreeably, and continued nodding as he stirred me away by the elbow. "Allow me a parting word with her, my good lord."
And so, he pulled took me aside, but not far enough to create tension or suspicion. "Ghost," he addressed me, for it was what everyone addressed me as, "do you know who this man is?"
"No."
"He is Jukuna, one of the well-known war heroes of our time, the one who led the Payonese to victory in countless battles during the Wars of the Unrest. You must not offend him in any way."
"What does he want with me?" I had wondered out loud.
"I don't know, Ghost. But I cannot deny him what he wants. If Rune Midgaard did not have him on our side, who knows what would've become of us?"
He gave me a pat on my back. That was meant to be our farewell. I turned to face him squarely.
"Goodbye," I said, and it wasn't to him alone. Behind his short, tidy form loomed the central tent of our circus. We all viewed the tent as the life of a circus. That image was the last I have of him.
"God save thee, child."
He was a good man.
-
"What is your name?" Jukuna had asked me while we were on our way. He slightly ahead and never glanced directly at me once.
"Ghost," was my automatic reply. Indeed it would sound peculiar to any outsider. They did not know how I got that name. It was from the other performers. They all noticed that the only time they could actually see me in clear, full view, was when I was on stage amongst them.
Afterwards I would fade away, completely disappear, as soon as my role is done. It was as the circus master had instructed.
"Then, your name from henceforth shall be Rusalka."
Rusalka.
I grew up in a circus. Of course I knew what the name meant. I heard tales and tales told at nights gathered around a bonfire when no one knew I was listening.
Rusalka. Ghost.
It did not matter to me that they practically meant one and the same thing.
I was happy with a subtler name. If happy was the right word.
"I'm taking you to your new home. However…"
I looked to him curiously.
"That facemask you're wearing," Jukuna told me, "you must never remove in anyone's presence."
I brought my hand up to feel the white satin covering the bottom half of my face up to the top ridge of my nose, white to match with the costume I wore that night.
"I understand."
It was no difficulty for me to do. After all, the circus master had set the same requirement for me.
He nodded his acknowledgement, without looking at me. Some people would stare. Some people would avoid my eyes completely. Still others never knew I was there. I had learned to keep a distance between myself and others. I did not want to alarm anyone.
"You will now be part of us. The Crow. You will meet with the others soon."
That was how it began.
-
He briefly introduced me to the lower ranked members of his guild, only asking for the three other tribunals to remain. Twelve members they were in total. Five men and three women who tossed me curious gazes as Jukuna ushered them out. The three who remained seated were all male. The elites.
"Rusalka," he said my name. I went up to the edge of the round table and bowed. He introduced them to me by their codenames.
Ice.
Karma.
Art.
Each of them studied me through veiled gazes.
"This is Rusalka," Jukuna repeated as before, and then added, "My younger sister."
That statement at once leveled me to their level. Because Jukuna was their leader. I could tell by the way all three men remained silent until he beckoned for them to speak.
"I entrust her safety to all of you whenever I'm away."
"Welcome." Art stood gracefully and reached across the table to shake my hand.
I didn't take it. I didn't know if I were supposed to.
I looked to Jukuna in the midst of the awkward stilling of time. His grey-green eyes were fixed impassively on Art.
"Word of advice, men," Jukuna said in a soft, threatening voice. "Do not get close."
Art had let his hand drop back to his side, but he remained standing. Three pairs of eyes I felt on my face as if they could discern the mystery if they stared long enough.
I do not think they figured out the warning until after. A while after.
Can you guess why?
It was because Jukuna had bought me for a reason, you see.
Majesta.
-
…
Majesta.
Back then, I've already heard mentioning of the name, in hushed voices behind the tents.
Majesta, they fancied, was a ghost caravan, never staying in one town longer than to set up a single performance.
Majesta, it was rumored, once eliminated an entire village within three hours; the duration of their show.
Majesta…the macabre circus.
But that comes in later.
…
-
Jukuna installed me in his room. My bed was on the opposite side of the room from his. It was a large room, a circular one with tall window planes all along the edges, plenty of light pouring through if the curtains were drawn aside.
I spent the majority of my time in that room. Jukuna seldom came in before I fell asleep. When I would get up in the morning, he would already be gone. I didn't know why I was there. I was restless enough to talk to him about it, if I ever saw him during the day.
So I passed my time doing my drills. There was more than enough fresh air coming through the windows to keep me active. During the evening I lit the candles and explored the various curious objects in the room. Bows, medals, a small oil painting of a woman with deep blue eyes.
By the candlelight, I browsed through his journals. It didn't seem wrong to me; he would've kept them locked up if he didn't want me to touch them.
They were dated back to his early teens, through the tragic lost of his family, to his roles in the Wars of the Unrest, seven years ago. Seven years ago was as furthest as my memory reached. I've always assumed that I've lost my memory sometime then, during the chaos.
I flipped through the pages carefully until one word, printed neatly dead center of a blank page, and had caught my eye.
Majesta.
"It is not polite to read through other people's journals," a voice said softly, directly behind me. I spun around in my chair.
He went by 'Ice'. The platinum blonde with eyes of liquid blue fire. They called him 'Killing Ice'.
"I am his sister," I replied calmly. Indeed Jukuna had insisted I stuck with that.
He tilted his head slightly, pondering over me. He wore a facemask similar to that of mine, a dark maroon one. It highlighted his fair, fair skin and made his hair look almost white in the candlelight.
"Then, you know all about him. How did his family die?" he questioned me, his eyes having a hypnotic effect combined with the strange soft voice.
"They were killed, by some wizards," I replied automatically. Of course I realized my mistake immediately. Though outwardly I kept my eyes blank, I knew that he knew I realized it.
His eyes told me so.
"You're not supposed to be here," I pointed out simply, pleasantly.
He bowed his acknowledgement, a slow, half-bow. As he backed away, the candles on the half of the room where I sat flickered out into darkness. I never saw where he'd gone, but he had disappeared completely.
I would never feel at ease in that room ever again.
"Jukuna," I said to him that night, having stayed up late to wait for his return.
"Yes?" came his polite reply.
"I would like to leave this room."
"You don't like it here?" he inquired curiously.
"I-I'd like to go outside," I explained. I realized he thought I meant wanting a different room.
"Why, if you desire it, of course," Jukuna told me. "I've never said you couldn't."
"One piece of advice, however," I heard his voice trail over to my bed, "…Keep your distance from the others."
I would've done that without being told anyway.
Back at the circus, everyone respected each other's distance. Of my seven years, I only made one friend, the person who was kept in the cage next to mine. She died, two years past.
At times I still wondered why she died, and I was alive.
But let's not dwell on those details…
As I was saying, back at the Green Deviruchi, no one breached the unspoken agreement regarding personal space.
I didn't expect things to be different.
I did not expect someone who was daring and persistent enough to ignore my need for room.
Someone who was cold and stagnant when it comes to getting something he wanted.
Ice.
