You're back outside now, still enamoured by the place's beauty. But now, a small sense of unease has diluted some of your wonder. You can't help but think about that secret – and all the ones which you were scared might have been unveiled. But it wasn't, and you know you should just relax – but you just can't seem to.

Lost in thought, you aren't paying much attention to where you are walking. You stumble slightly, and reach for a nearby canvas to steady yourself.

The Pool of Sorrows,

the sign on this tent says; in delicate, ornate writing which you would love to be able to reproduce. You rest your hand on the silver for a moment, pondering entering. Melancholy. That's the word you're looking for, and that's what this tent feels like. Quiet. Subdued.

Taking a deep breath, though you are unsure why, you push aside the fabric and step into the tent, pausing to pick up a pebble as instructed.

Inside – a pool, dark, seemingly bottomless except for the light patches, floating somewhere underneath the surface, which denote the presence of another stone like the one in your hand.

You wonder quite what it is that you should do. Drop the stone with the others, then leave? No, that doesn't feel right. Not right at all.

You sit down next to the water, trailing your fingers across its surface. The ripples you make seem to disappear abnormally fast. But a plethora of other thoughts knock this one from your head. You remember the other tent, and what might have happened. You think of all the secrets which could have come out, not just big ones, but all those tiny truths which you've been trying so hard not to acknowledge.

You move on from secrets to worries. About everything – yourself, your friends, your upcoming exams. Things that have kept you up at night for months.

All the while, you are aware of the pebble you are holding; how perfectly it fits into the palm of your hand. And with every thought it seems to grow slightly heavier – as if you are pouring your heart out into it.

You'll never find out how long you were sitting there for. No one interrupted you, and no sounds passed through the canvas walls to your ears. The sense of peace is blissful, must have come about through some form of magic. But you've already seen extraordinary things here tonight, and will soon see much more, so the logistics don't bother you. Not at present, anyhow.

When, finally, your head and your heart have quieted enough to be at one with the pool, you find you know exactly what you must do. It is with only a slight reluctance that you drop your pebble, though your eyes are too tight shut to see where it ends up, or to see the ripples that it leaves behind.

It's been a long time since you've felt as free and as light as you do when you leave that tent. But now, now you're truly ready to enjoy the Circus.


So, Chapter 3. I won't turn this A/N into an argument over how Tabs's chapters are better than mine, but... :)

Any thoughts/suggestions/recommendations/ideas will be very gladly recieved! ~ Em