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_Genus Mali_
Sebastian had fallen to the ground in spasms.
Bard and Will grabbed the butler by each arm and helped him to the ground. The spasms continued for a good five minutes, the servants, their master, and even the Reapers help less to do anything for him. It broke their hearts as the butler writhed in pain on the ground.
Soon after the spasms stopped, Sebastian supported himself on hands and knees. He panted for a minute or two, not moving. Finally, he managed to stand up, wobbling, but standing.
The butler held a hand to his head in a daze, the other clutched the box with the bracer in it. Sebastian leaned against the far wall for support.
By the time he reached the wall, most of the group was out of their daze. They quickly went to him, but Sebastian just brushed them away.
"I'm fine," he said, turning around and leaning his back against the wall, "Just had the wind knocked out of me, is all..." He stopped, "Oh god, what am I saying?"
Ciel held back his laughter at the befuddled butler. It was oddly funny to watch the normally calm and cool demon completely confused by his own words. Though, in all truth, it was very weird to hear Sebastian talking like a peasant, but it was still humorous. The earl looked around to find the rest of those in the room as amused as he was, even the butler had to chuckle a bit.
After the butler got over his confusion, he examined the bracer in his hand, "Damn thing," he said to no one in particular, "All way's a bother."
"What'd you mean, Mr. Sebastian?" questioned Finny.
Just after the gardener said that, the screen flickered back on, "I guess you'll see for yourself," answered the butler, as he sat by the wall while he began undo the strings and clasps holding the bracer closed.
_Genus Mali_
Winter had fallen quite to quickly.
The forest was blanketed with a thick coat of white, as well as London and most of England. It was much to cold to work, but the harvest in the fall had been plentiful, so no one really minded. The English all took the white winter as a gift from on high and used it for rest and relaxation, along with some recreation. Children were out of school, men spent time with their families, and women took the time to make splendrous meals and desserts.
But what all of London looked forward to were the fairs.
Colorful clowns, beautiful dancers, enticing snake-charmers, strong wrestlers, lovely singers, and much more. With the entertainers came merchants and such that traded wonderful trinkets and toys, as well as more valuable goods or surplus harvests.
The most beloved group of such entertainers and traders, was a small, rarely-seen group. They took old, hidden roads, and came quickly before they left just as fast. But there performances were amazing. The group was quite small, being most young men and women, but they had many tricks and gimmicks up there sleeve as well as wonderful goods to trade. You could always know who they were by the symbol they wore of a crown, a moon, and a sun.
There was much speculation amongst the public about the group. Every time they came to town, things went missing, people lost money, or sometimes people disappeared entirely. It was a strange coincidence, but the groups wonderful performance usually turned away accusations quickly.
In London, fair day had finally come. Performer and merchant came and went as normal, but then, the sound of a much grander crowd came along in a gilded wagon, lead by a black horse and a white horse.
"Woah there Dot!" cried the red-haired teen holding the reins, "You too Spot."
The horses stopped in the middle of the city square as an excited crowd soon began to gather. The teenage boy in the driver's seat of the carriage wore a bright red, checkered cloak over his shoulder, and a scarlet tunic with black letter pants. His chipper appearance was blown away by his sheer muscle build, which made him easily able to guide the two horses. On his shoulder was a tattoo in the emblem of a crown, a sun, and a moon.
"Ehem," began the teen as he stood, "Titus, would you care to begin?"
From the back of the carriage, a smaller white haired boy hoped up to the roof of the carriage. He wore a shiny, eye-catching white cape with a hood. His shirt and pants were both pure white, but a patch on his shirt bore the same image from the other boy's shoulder.
"Gladly, Remo," said Titus, "Ladies and gentlemen!" he then cried in a louder voice, "Children of all ages! I present to you, the one and only, Western Traveling Caravan!"
At Titus' announcement, the crowds cheered loudly as the boy gave them all a dashing smile and waved to them all brightly, "We bring you the finest in entertainment there is," he proudly proclaimed, "We dare to do what others would not, simply to give you the best quality we can possibly preform for you!"
The back of the carriage opened wide, "If you do not believe what I say," continued Titus, "Then please bare witness to the great Lyn, the magician of one-thousand tricks!"
From the back of the carriage came another teenage boy. He wore bright yellow mixed with black and a strange tunic with a tall collar and a crooked bottom that went to the left. The crown emblem was above the odd bottom of his shirt. He didn't look like much a wizard, except for his two different colored eyes.
"Do not be alarmed!" cried Titus to the crowds, "For our wizard is not here to befuddle your minds or harm you in anyway, but watch as Lyn stupefies you and excites your senses."
Lyn smirked and gave a deep, low bow to the crowds. When he raised from his bow, he surprised the crowd by flipping back quickly on his hands, doing a reverse cart wheel. Lyn's feet hit the carriage, and he pushed forward, throwing himself in the air.
Unnoticed by the crowd, mid-flip, Lyn grabbed a black powder from his sleeve. His blew it into the air as he landed on his knee.
The crowd watched the black powder sprinkle to the ground, and Lyn then turned and snapped. In the air, the powder exploded into ash before the crowd's eyes.
Everyone cheered loudly as the fire in the sky died down. Lyn bowed one final time before he flipped into the audience itself, doing much smaller tricks as he went off. He landed and waved to Titus and Remo on the carriage as he disappeared into London.
A few of the crowd followed the magician, hoping to see more magic, but what was left of the crowd had there eyes on the carriage.
"If you still don't have faith in our extraordinary ability," Titus went on, "Then perhaps my friend, our great, terrific strong man, will sway your minds, yes?"
Remo took his cue and bowed to the audience from the front of the wagon. He leaped from the seat and on the horses back gracefully on both hands. Neither Spot or Dot (as they were named), flinched, as the horses had been trained well.
Remo amazed the audience by switching hands and undoing the horses hold on the carriage upside down. The red-clad strong man whispered to the horses and, with him still doing a hand-stand between there backs, rode in a circle side by side around the carriage. While the horses circled, Remo flipped in the air and landed on the horses' backs again.
After a few gravity-defying flips, Remo leaped off the horses. He bowed to audience once, then went to the back over the carriage.
The strongman grabbed hold of the bottom of the carriage, and pulled out a thin, mini platform from underneath. Remo laid it on the ground and motioned for Dot and Spot to come over to him and onto the platform.
"We ask the audience for absolute silence during this amazing feat!" asked Titus loudly, as the crowd hushed.
As the two horses walked onto the platform, Remo quickly laid down and lifted up one side. As the horses got on, the teen scooted further down, till Remo was directly underneath it, and the horse were being supported by the boy below them.
Titus raised his hands for applause, which the strongman received, as Remo had the horses walk off, "Wonderful isn't he?" boldly asked a smiling Titus.
Remo laughed heartily once he was standing again. The strongman stood on the horses backs, one foot on each, as he rod off in a different direction then Lyn had taken.
More of the crowd followed Remo, but the remainder stayed to see what else the caravan could possibly offer.
"Though I doubt you were not please by Remo's act," declared Titus, "You will most certainly enjoy our next act!" He stomped hard on the carriage roof. At his stomp, a tall man in a black suit quickly walked out with a dagger tied to a length of rope. The man threw it strong, and it stuck firmly into the roof of a near by bakery. The black suited man threw the other part of the rope up to Titus and bowed to audience as he left.
Titus pulled the rope, once he was sure it was suck tight, he tied it to a hook on the front of the carriage. He stomped again and cranking sound was heard. The hook went higher up as a pole with similar hooks made up the difference in height, making the rope even, "Everyone," he said when the rope was all the way up, "This carriage is fifteen feet high. The pole is up five feet. Meaning that the rope is at twenty feet in the air."
Titus clapped his hands, "But, for you entertainment, one of our daring performers will climb this height and, without a safety, reach the adjourning roof."
The audience cheered in awe and excitement, as they wondered what brave man would try this feat.
"Everyone, please give your round of applause to the lovely rose of our caravan, Talia!" cried out Titus, raising his arms.
Out of the main doors of the carriage, along the sides, came a teenage girl with mousy hair cut off at her shoulders. Her beauty stole away the audience, with her silver eyes, bright smile, and thin body. She wore a skin tight, rose colored unitard (which the women of the crowd cried in outrage to such indecency) with a short, transparent, pink dress over it. In her hair was a small golden crown like the one on the caravan's emblem, that was adorned with pale pink flowers.
Talia bowed low to the crowd, much like her brother Lyn, and she gracefully climbed up to the top of the carriage. She was meet by Titus, who gave her a warm smile and a 'good luck', on the roof.
Talia smiled to the audience as she reach down to the floor she stood on. She picked up a length of satin cloth and she went to the tall pole.
With a small bit of help from Titus, she fixed the cloth to her back. With that in place, Talia began to gracefully climb the pole.
The crowd was transfixed by the beauty of Talia's climb. She spun in the air around the pole, making a lovely air about the town square.
When she reached the top, Talia stood at the very top of the pole, twenty feet in the air, balanced. She made a carefully curtesy to the crowd, then Talia walked onto the rope.
The crowd was hushed as they looked up at the young girl walking the tightrope. Talia went about a yard before she leaned forward and did a cartwheel on the rope. She never even faltered in her maneuver, which she followed up by flipping off the rope twice and landing back on it perfectly.
About fifteen minutes of cartwheels and flips later, the rose of the Western Traveling Caravan was on the bakery roof.
The crowd cheered wildly as Talia climbed down from the roof and in turn cartwheeled off in a different direction than Remo and her brother.
Once again, some of the crowd followed her through London, but most stayed behind.
Titus was certainly ready to dazzle now, "For those who are still unconvinced of our gifts," he laughed, "I present to you the more exotic and daring rose of our garden, the wild Lysandra!"
At this, a raven haired girl walked out of the carriage side, holding a dagger in one hand, and a length of cloth in the other. As for her clothing, the proper women almost screamed in outrage at her black short shorts and her showy, blue, corset-like top. A leather strap holding a scabbard for her dagger was fastened to her bare leg, as well as several other dagger were in her belt loops. For Lysandra, the crown emblem was on her single, long blue, fingerless glove on her right hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen," smiled Titus, "For our dear Ly's performance, we require the assistance of a brave soul from the audience!"
The whole of the crowd pale a little at what a girl with so many sharp knives could do to them. But, the man in the black suit appeared out of almost nowhere. He stood behind a tall young business man, "Miss Lysandra, will this young gentleman do?" asked Henley to his master's friend.
Lysandra considered the man for a moment, then nodded.
Henley forced the horrified man forward to the carriage. Lysandra kicked the wall of the carriage and a white tarp fell down from the top and was held in front of the carriage. The business man yelped; a target was clear on the tarp.
Henley made the man stand in front of the target. The butler whispered in his ear, and then man smiled. He did not move through the rest of the performance. Henley quickly went back inside the carriage.
"Everyone," addressed Titus, "I implore you, do not try this at home! Ly is a trained professional!"
Lysandra laughed loudly, "Professional! Ha!"
"Shut up!" hissed Titus.
The girl rolled her eyes and picked up a dagger.
The audience was hushed as she raised her blade to her lips.
"You are witnessing a magic greater than even that of our great magician Lyn!" whispered Titus, loudly, "This is the magic of the Kiss of Fate. Any man or object that touch's her lips are blessed with good fortune for years to come!"
Lysandra ended her kiss and aimed the blade at the target. Everyone flinched as the dagger embedded itself an inch away from the man's head.
Several other kissed daggers were thrown, each missing the man by mere inches. By the time Lysandra was out of daggers, the crowd was so entranced by her fluid throws, they were sad when she was done.
Ly bowed to the audience, then took her assistant's hand. She pulled the man away from the target and kissed him full on the lips, to the cat calls of the men in the crowd.
Lysandra ran off into London, quickly followed by a large amount of men, including the business man, who wanted a 'Kiss of Fate'.
Titus laughed as the knife-thrower and her love-struck victims disappeared into downtown London. Most of the remaining crowd was women and children, "Well, ladies," sighed the white boy, leaning against Talia's pole, "It seems our show is almost to an end," he looked up at the sky, which was quickly becoming a beautiful sunset, "But, I believe we have just enough time for one more."
The ladies and children cheered, "I give you our most impressive performance of the day," said Titus, jumping off the carriage and walking off to his own part of London, "I present, The Lord of the Western Traveling Caravan, Johnny Traveler."
As Titus disappeared, the carriage doors opened for the last time. Out steeped a tall boy with dirty blonde hair, one electric blue eye and another covered by bandages. The Lord of the Western Traveling Caravan wore a darker shade of orange on his strange tunic. The tunic had one long, orange sleeve and bottom, but then it was cut off to a back under shirt that showed his stomach. His crown was right on the edge of his shirt, right before it cut off. The caravan's leader was the only one of all seven (including Henley) to wear any form of jewelry, which was his black onyx ring.
But the main difference between the caravan and their lord was that Johnny Traveler did not throw a dagger or climb heights. The Lord of the Greatest Performers walked out in front of all the women and children of London with nothing but his two hands and a violin.
_Genus Mali_
Johnny smiled to the crowds and knocked on the carriage door.
Henley briefly stuck his hand out and gave his master a stool. Johnny took the stool and sat down on it and motioned for the women and children to come closer, "Don't worry, I don't spit fire," he said in all seriousness. The crowd drew closer, children going the front and sitting in the dirt in front of the boy, soon followed by their mothers.
Johnny lifted his bow and smiled to the women, "I've told been it's a little unconventional, but most say I play quite well, just ahead of my time," he said calmly, "Let's see what you think, eh?"
The boy looked away from the crowd, and focused on his instrument as the sun began to set. He quickly thrust his bow across the strings, starting off his song quickly with a jolt.
The crowd was stopped for brief second as the boy began. As his hand danced against the violin, more than just the individual instrument was heard. Even though only Honny played, they could hear the intermingling sounds of an orchestra following it. Johnny was making a symphony with one violin.
It was true art not worthy of being bestowed on such a lowly performer, but no one argued, only listened to the wonderful music.
Johnny's song went on for several hours, a true symphony, leading far into the night. By the time he was done, the men had stopped chase Lysandra and had returned to there wives. Now, most of the village gathered to watch.
As Johnny finished, the crowd erupted in applause, "Thank you, all!" cried out Johnny, "I am sad to say that our day with you all is done," the crowd sighed in despair at this, "But know that we will return, soon!"
As the crowd gave a final cheer, the rest of the Western Traveling Caravan came out from a side street, riding on Spot and Dot. Titus had an empty potato sack, which he threw to the ground. The crowds quickly threw coins into it, and Remo snatched it back up.
As the horses were reattached to the carriage, Lyn jumped on the roof, followed by Johnny and Titus.
Remo soon edged the horses on, out of London. Lyn threw out some of his exploding powder, which, with two snaps, bursts into flames for one last act.
Titus waved with a flashy small at the crowd disappearing off the horizon, "Remember us always!" he called.
"The Western Traveling Caravan," said Johnny, "Will remember you!"
_Genus Mali__
He smiled a dastardly grin when the crowds were out of sight, "How much did we make?" asked the Lord of the Caravan, as he, Titus, and Lyn leaped down into the open carriage door.
In the main part of the carriage, Henley had converted what was the old Chinese traders pigsty into his young master's quarters/office as well as a meeting place for the Caravan. Being it was a large carriage, they had a bit of furniture in it. Henley had put the trader's old desk against the front wall, right under the window to the driver's seat. A small hammock opposite of it made a fine bed, and a few chests and draws lined the wall.
On the floor was the rest of the Western Traveling Caravan, all around Titus' potato sack, "Well," answered Talia, looking through the bag, "At a brief estimate, I'd wager about twenty crowns max."
"What a killing!" laughed Lysandra, "That'll feed us for months!"
"No," said Johnny, laying his violin on the dresser, "I meant how much did we really make?"
There was silence for minute, then everyone laughed, "Right," chuckled Lyn, digging in his shirt sleeve, "I managed to nick a bag of gold from the bankers stand and I even nabbed his knife." The magician brought out from his a leather poach and a silver dagger with a ruby crusted hilt.
"Well," said Johnny examining the dagger and the bag, "He'll miss that. Five crowns in the bag, and I'd say the dagger worth near half that." Johnny took two crowns out of the pouch and threw it back to Lyn, "Use that to buy more of your powder. I don't like you using it, but it does make a killing in shows."
Over the course of the years, it was discover why Lyn had two different colored eyes. His mother had been a green-eyed English witch that bewitched a nobleman to love her. The witch had Lyn two years later, but soon the nobleman broke from his trance and left. The witch taught her son magic for two years till he was four, then traded him to the Chinese merchant from potion ingredients. Lyn meet Talia in his father's village while the merchant was trading. The nobleman recognized his son and went berserk, trying to kill him. Talia intervened by calling for help, but Lyn lost an eye before he could stop. Following the ways of his evil mother, he cut out his father's gray eye, used a simple spell replace his own with it, then took his new found sister away with him, though they were soon caught by the merchant.
Lyn hid his power by only using simple spells that could have logical explanations. His favorite was throwing black powder in the air, and using magic to form sparks by it, causing an explosion. Johnny didn't approve of him using magic in public, but as he said 'it made a killing in shows.'
The magician slipped the pouch in his yellow sleeve, grinning, "Am I the only successful one today?" he asked.
Talia smacked her brother on the head, "No way!" she said as she pulled off a gold chain from her neck, "I swiped this from that fat, old lady at the pub."
Henley took the chain and looked at it closely, "At fair price, maybe a few shillings. But if we have Titus take it to market, given he performs as well as he did today, we can probably get two crowns off it."
As the caravan grew up, it came to there attention that little Titus had a way with words. He could probably talk his way out of the death sentence if he needed to. When the caravan went from honest trading to full out swindlers, Titus became their announcer and seller. He would take a broken pair of knives and come back with thirty shillings. 'Little' Titus had grown into one sly little devil.
"Eh," shrugged said boy, "I could try. Plus I smooth talk a few ladies out of their purses." He reached behind his head and took two silk purses out from his hood, "I already counted. Five shilling in one, eight in the other."
Johnny patted their youngest on the back then turned to Lysandra, "What about you, Ly?"
The knife-thrower scoffed, "You think a ran around London from all those men for nothing?" Lysandra pulled two heavy pouches of coins from her pants pockets, "Three crowns each."
"And the Kiss of Fate has spoken," mumbled Johnny, looking into one of the pouches. He threw one back to the knife-thrower, "Buy some more knives, you lost some back there."
When they began learning there trades, Lysandra never thought knives would be her act. But the minute Henley handed her a dagger, she knew it was right. With the butler's assistance, Lysandra grew into the Robin Hood of knives.
Lysandra tied the pouch other belt and called out window, "What about you Remo?"
Said strong man chuckled, "It's in the back. I slipped into the merchant district since we needed some things. I couldn't get much food, but I found fabric to fix Tally's dress and a little powder for Lyn."
Henley did some quick math, "Well, young master," he said to Johnny, "That makes our trip to London worth thirty one crowns and thirteen shilling."
"Good job, guys," praised Johnny. He then had Remo stop the wagon and sent his caravan out to set up camp.
With the group gone, Johnny sat down at his desk and began to log their income.
"I can do that, young master," said the butler, "You have other things to do."
"No, Henley," scoffed at Henley, "I will do it."
Henley sighed at his master, but made no other comment.
Johnny took a half an hour to finish his log before he stood. The teen stretched and looked out at his caravan.
The group set up a small bonfire to light up the night and laid there blankets around the fire. Titus told exciting stories that he made up as he went along. Remo had tied the horses to a nearby tree and he leaned back, listening to Titus. Lysandra took a whetstone from her pocket and sharpened her knife, deep in thought. Lyn had Talia on his lap as the younger sister dozed.
"Your all growing up, young master," said Henley, walking up behind Johnny, "It has been a long time since you donned the name 'Traveler' and formed this ragtag group of misfits into a top notch band of performers and thieves."
Johnny looked at his butler, "Yes I guess, so, though it only feels like yesterday was when..." He felt the onyx ring on his finger, "You know, you never did tell me where you got this from."
Henley hesitated, though he knew his master would ask eventually, "Well," he smoothly lied, "I took it from your brother the night I left him. I felt it appropriate that the one to kill him should have his ring, so it will be the last thing he ever sees."
Johnny was shocked for a second, then looked at the ring, "No matter who had it before..." Johnny ran a finger over the stone, "I still like it."
Henley smiled, "That is good, young master." The butler walked to the chest of drawers and pulled something out, "By the way, I had something to ask of you."
"And what would that be?" Johnny raised an eyebrow as he put his violin in it's case.
The butler smiled, "I have come to realize that you carry no form of self-defense on your person. This makes you quite weak, young master."
The Lord of the Caravan was shocked, "I have my reasons, Henley. I am not fond at holding swords or knives. Nor am I vastly good with bows. I believe our... training has been efficient in protecting me."
That was true. Henley had been fulfilling his master's original order by teaching him the ways of the demon. Though Johnny Traveler was far from a demon, his anger made a perfect inward power supply that made him much stronger. But as for his not carrying a weapon, Henley did not agree,
"Young master," the butler sighed, "I am well aware of your inept use of normal weaponry. But I believe I have a solution."
Johnny raised an eyebrow once more, "Really?"
Henley nodded and held up what would soon be one of the most iconic idem in Johnny's life.
"What the hell am I supposed to do with a bracer?"
Henley sighed and released the knife from it's holder, "Sometimes, a hidden, small weapon is better than a massive sword. As you know well, the smallest can easily rise to the top."
Johnny glared and took a different form of attack, "That is the weirdest knife I have ever seen. Look at the holes in it."
The knife in Henley's hand was not a normal dagger in the least. The hilt was black and wrapped in rich dark leather, but in the middle of the grip there was four holes and a thick looped ring was strapped to the end firmly. The blade itself was made of what looked like obsidian and was curved inward. In all, the blade could easily fit in the palm of one's hand.
"This," said the butler, "Is a tactical knife. It is a bit of knowledge that I should not share with mortals, but I choose to. It is easy to hold because of the grip, and easy to hide."
"I'm not wearing that dumb bracer," snarled Johnny, turning away.
Henley simply slipped the knife in the slot, undid the bindings and clasps, then quickly grabbed Johnny by the waist.
"Hey!" cried Johnny, "Let me down, you big ox!"
Henley smirked as he grabbed his master's left arm, "I apologize, but this is for your own good." He tied the bracer on, then clasped it tight, before letting go, "I will train you with the knife tomorrow, but I suggest wearing that constantly."
Johnny rubbed his sore arm under the bracer, then sat on his hammock, still in his clothes, and went to sleep quite angry.
_Genus Mali_
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