The child looked around the carnival, eyes wide as he listened to the shouting. It was an annual thing that had started slipping in popularity though something had started to bring the carnivals back, claiming that it was all thanks to miracles. The child looked around, eyes widening when he saw a clown pass.
The clown paused for a moment, turning to look at him before watching with a slight smile, walking over casually. "Do you believe in miracles?" He asked, watching the child with a smile, his eyes a strange color that he could not pin down.
The child hesitated for a moment, glancing around the carnival. He was unsure of where his father had gone, though he didn't feel like he should be afraid of the clown. "Everyone should believe in miracles." He said finally, gaze resting on the clown before his eyes flicked up to the horns, amazed.
"Miracles are the shit bro." The clown said. "The Bard is known as the one to pray for when it comes to all them wicked miracles. Do you know about the gods?"
The child watched the clown, slowly shaking his head. "Not really," he said, tipping his head back.
"The Bard is a god unlike the others. He likes them miracles and he likes to be surrounded by them miracles. Shit bro, he loves carnivals and is said to appear more then the other gods whenever there is a carnival and he's attracted to the wicked miracles that the carnivals bring with them, the happiness and the glee of others." The clown said, squatting down slightly to study the child. "They say whenever The Bard of Miracles is around, people's prayers will come true. The miracles they want, to escape the hard times they face. That's what them fucking miracles are all about bro."
The child took a slight step back, made wary by the clown's language but not wanting to offend him. He glanced around quickly before looking back up at the clown, wondering about him. His clothes seemed to match that of those in the carnival, though they seemed to also make him stand out. The child frowned, wondering if it was the horns that made him stand out, or the fact that his clothes did seem different then what he was used to.
"Everyone needs a miracle in their life. Them wicked things are as slippery as fish. But if you ever want to pray for a miracle, The Bard will be all up and happy to listen to those miracles of yours. Even if you don't have anything to ask for, The Bard likes hearing about all them wicked miracles, otherwise he wouldn't want no part in that wicked elixir of miracles and shit." The clown said. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard someone call his name, letting out a small honk. "Remember, even when everything is good, The Bard enjoys hearing those miracles and how they worked out. Even if you need a pick me up miracle, The Bard is good for that too."
The boy walked over to the clown before he could stand, hugging him tentatively with a smile. He noticed the pin clasped to the cape, wondering what it meant before he ran off. He thought about The Bard a lot, considering the clown and what he had said before he turned his attention to the carnival. He saw the little miracles throughout the day, picking out miracles and sending up a silent prayer to The Bard each time he saw one, wondering if it was all a jest. He also kept an eye out for the clown, wanting to tell him what he was doing, but soon he had to leave the carnival, though he kept the miracles in his mind, thinking that the best miracle of all had been the clown.
He told his parents of this story, though they didn't believe him. And he went to each carnival he could, hoping to run into the clown once again with the strange cloak pin and the stories of The Bard, though he never did and he did not really mind it. He felt as if The Bard was a god of joy, a god that could make any moment joyous, or send little miracles on any sad person's day.
And thus The Bard was known to the boy as a clown to set out making people happy, perhaps in the form of a clown, passing on messages without anyone noticing who he was. Though they, too, noticed the miracles after an encounter with the mysterious clown.
A/N: I realized I never linked to Palemarried's art that inspired this little fanfiction and I am sorry, so here is a link:
post/39097401192/if-the-trolls-won-their-game-this-is-how-i-think
I would like to say that I'm doing The Witch and The Prince a bit out of order, since I have an end idea for The Prince that wouldn't make sense if it came before The Witch. And with that, I should be done with the fanfic. So hopefully tomorrow, if not tonight.
Happy readings!