The muted sound of rapturous applause and gasping still rang in Anje's ears. Everything had moved so quickly from the initial jump to the half twirl, gripping the fly bar, then into the normal routine. At least that was the plan. Anje had done it hundreds of times, if not thousands at this point in her career. But everything had happened so quickly when it came to the transition to the second bar.
Her confidence that had been built up over nearly two decades of life and practice vanished the moment her hands touched that greased bar. Eyes wide with fear and the crowd's cheers changing slowly, then rapidly into a frenzied horror. No net, no safety awaited Anje below, only the cruel reality of smooth pavement. All part of the thrill. The rush. And now the threat of it all it was rapidly all too real.
A sharp inhale, followed by a flood of regrets and fears that Anje herself didn't even know sprouted from her psyche. Hopes, dreams, and ambitions that would never be achieved now that she was nearly halfway to her fate. Anje didn't scream as her blonde hair obscured her view of the riot that was beginning to erupt in the stands filled with onlookers ranging from wayward souls to children seeing their first trapeze act, and perhaps their last.
Anje glanced one last time toward her starting mark, where her trapeze partner Annabelle gave her last bit of advice to Anje before the performance. 'Break a leg' she said to her, yet Anje couldn't prevent a mirthless laugh escaping from her lips at that final vote of confidence, something seemed off in her last glances toward the take-off mark high up in the rafters.
Her partner wasn't present watching on in horror as the rest of her troupe or the crowd, but something else was there. Anje squinted her eyes to try and identify the strange cloaked figure masked in black that seemed to stare back into her. A strange dark miasma seemed to surround and obscure the person highlighted by two eyes that burned like orange embers.
"Who is-" Anje muttered to herself as the world went dark and the sound of cracking and popping rang in her ears.
There would be no encore at The Crimson Circus today.
Anje's eyes opened. Her breath was ragged and her back hurt from laying on the hard ground. Her eyes darted around frantically in the dimly lit wooden room. A slight rocking and swaying indicted to her this was a ship. Anje's gaze settled on a nearby table where an oil lamp lay lit near a long-haired man sat with a book in his hand. His ruffled outfit Anje, as she didn't recognize the style. A sharp pain shot down her back as she tried to sit up, causing her to grit her teeth to help her power through the simple movement.
Feeling pain was nothing new to Anje as she glanced down at her calloused and scarred hands. Years of practice on the bars combined with a few injuries from her early days of mishandling throwing knives had given her lithe and dainty form a hardened part of herself that revealed the dedication of a performer.
Her movement had caught the attention of the gentleman reading nearby, to which he closed his book and cast a curious glance at Anje. Anje frowned, as it wasn't curiosity she recognized. It was the thinly veiled amusement and leering eyes. Anje knew this to be the least desirable of all attention.
"And so she awakens!" The boisterous man said as he turned to Anje and dramatically clamped his book shut. "Not even the storm last night woke you! A real sleeping beauty, if I do say so myself."
Anje's ears still rang slightly, as if still sore from the bellows of the patrons at her last performance. She winced slightly as she said, "And you are loud. Where am I?"
"You don't know?" The man said as he raised an eyebrow and his smiling facade vanished, as he looked truly confused. "Why you are on the Reliant. A magnificent ship, really, well if it weren't for the brigands that run it I suppose."
"I figured out this is a ship," Anje said with a venomous tone.
"Apologies, my good lady," The man said as he put his hands up defensively. "I, Virion, Archest of Archers, merely looked to aid a young maiden-"
"One more flowery word and I'll show you what this maiden will do," Anje retorted.
Virion's gaze looked downward as his bravado deflated. "Ah, perhaps I shall give you a moment then. I'll be outside that door," Virion pointed to the nearby waterlogged wooden door. "If you'd excuse me. I'll continue my vigil to keep the rowdy crew members out of your hair while you gather yourself."
A sigh escaped Anje's lips as Virion trudged out of the room, but not before casting one last glance at Anje. A different look from before, which made her feel more uncomfortable than his first look. A brief look of pity.
Anje knew she wasn't mad. With the room now empty besides the oil lamp on the nearby wooden table and a large burlap sack covering her, Anje took stock of her body. Much to her surprise, her limbs were not broken. Sore, yes, but completely functional.
The next detail of note was her clothing. Gone was the flashy and glittery red and gold leotard she would wear during all of her performances, and instead she was covered in the equivalent of roughspun rags, a basic brown tunic, a pair of pants in a lighter shade, and no shoes. A quick whiff of them immediately made Anje turn her head.
"Ugh, they're disgusting," Anje said to herself.
Getting to her feet proved no challenge for the nimble acrobat, though a few sharp pains coursed through her back. Anje decided it must have been a combination of the hardwood floor and the sleeping on the burlap sack that she had been sleeping on. Nothing out of the unusual, unlike her circumstance.
She investigated her body for any markings or signs of injury from a fall. From the splotchy vitiligo on her legs to the large scar on her right thigh where she cracked her femur, nothing new presented itself.
With nothing remiss about her physicality, she pondered her place on the ship. The last performance was held in Istanbul. Or was it Sevastopol? Her troupe's last tour had all been a blur the past few months. Perhaps she ended up in a coma, and her troupe was somewhere on board perhaps? It would explain much, especially if she was traversing the Black Sea by boat.
Even if that was true, it did little to explain the lack of injuries and the strange man that seemed to share her room. Virion, he said his name was. Anje rolled the words over her tongue, as the name didn't sound particularly European. Maybe it's Latin or Spanish, Anje thought.
Anje looked once more at the closed door, and let out a sigh. Perhaps she was too rude to the man. "He is probably just an eager fan, and he could provide some information," Anje quietly said to herself as she shook her head.
Ambling her way up to the door, she gripped the handle and opened the door to reveal Virion standing nearby reading his book. Beyond Virion, Anje could see what looked to be a cargo hold of the boat with several barrels and crates scattered around.
"Are you refreshed my sweet maiden?" Virion said with a honeyed tone. "I pray that these rough waters have not despoiled your deposition."
Anje stepped away from the door to allow Virion back into the minimalist cabin, and closed the wooden door, but not before spotting a burly sailor in the distance that flashed her a rotten grin. Unable to suppress a shiver of disgust, Anje quickly walked back into the room and looked at Virion.
"So, you said your name is Virion?" Anje asked as she crossed her arms.
"Indeed it is! Virion, Archest of Archer, Du-"
"I don't need your made-up titles," Anje quickly interjected. Seeing Virion's expression falter a bit, Anje exhaled and closed her eyes. This fool would be the end of her patience. "I'm Anje if you were curious. I presume you are a fan that saw my show?"
Virion's excitement returned with newfound vigor. "A show? You are a performer? Truly magnificent! What is it that you do?"
Confused, Anje opened her mouth to reply, but then immediately clammed up. Regathering her wits, she asked, "Are you unfamiliar with The Crimson Circus?"
"Can't say that I've heard of it," Virion confirmed as he tapped his index finger against his chin with his other hand firmly planted on his hip. "And I'm quite the artistic connoisseur if I do say so myself. You sure that's what it is called?"
"I'd know the name of my own damn troupe."
"And so you would," Virion replied as he bobbed his head in acknowledgment. "Quite the conundrum, wouldn't you say? I don't believe you are lying though."
"Oh?' Anje piped up. "What makes you say that?"
She thought he was either trying to play coy and be cool, but his mannerisms and tone seemed genuine. Something remained off.
"Something is on your mind, care to share?" Virion asked as a warm smile graced his face.
"This boat...where is it going?" Anje carefully asked as she looked around her mundane surroundings fervently. A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was beginning to form. All of this around her was too convenient.
"To Ylisse of course! We left port from Rosanne about 2 days ago," Virion confirmed, much to Anje's dismay as her shoulders slouched.
She did not know what places he was talking about. None of that sounded like places in Crimea, Ukraine, or Turkey. Something had indeed gone wrong unless this Virion was trying to get a cheap reaction from her, but that didn't seem right either. Anje eyed Virion skeptically, but the man in return merely shrugged. He appeared to be genuine, despite the odd information.
"Is this 'Ylisse' some new city or settlement near Istanbul," Anje inquired as the anxiety-fueled pangs in her gut grew stronger.
Virion's expression remained steadfast and focused. "Not that I can recall. Ylisse is a country on the continent of Archanea. I reckon we should arrive in a week."
Anje swallowed hard. Breathing began to feel unnatural as her knees started to buckle. Seeing her discomfort, Virion rushed to Anje's side to help keep her steady by ducking under her armpit and supporting her with his shoulder.
"I take it this is a revelation of sorts for you?" Virion asked with a concerned smile.
"If this is some joke, you can end it here. You've got me," Anje remarked as Virion gently guided Anje to a sitting position on the burlap sack in the room. Her hands started shaking as she took a deep breath and look up to a sympathetic Virion. "Please tell me this is some joke or nightmare."
"I'm afraid this is real," Virion answered as he knelt beside Anje. "What can I do to help you?"
"I want off this damn ship," Anje spat out. Fear had turned to anger for the moody acrobat, and she needed somewhere to direct it. Collateral damage be damned.
Virion pat Anje on the shoulder softly and sighed. "We're already two days at sea. Your best bet is waiting until we dock in Ylisse."
"I'll fucking swim," Anje haughtily replied. She needed something to make sense. To be in control of something in this strange situation where she should be a mangled mess of bones and flesh on the ground in Istanbul. Her mind was being betrayed by the very logic and street smarts she had grown so accustomed to relying on.
"My lady," Virion said with trepidation. "I don't recommend that. The waters are frigid and we are already far out at sea."
Anje clenched her fists and bolted for the door. Virion made no sudden movement to stop her as she fiddled with the door handle in her blind rage, unable to open it. She needed to leave. Escape to somewhere that made sense.
"Maybe this will help?" Virion cautiously offered as he withdrew a slip from his front pocket. "This letter was left with you. A tall man in a cloak brought you if I remember correctly. I've been holding onto it for you when you awoke."
Anje's attention snapped back to Virion with bloodshot eyes on the verge of tears. Even in her raw rage, she strode elegantly across the floor and snatched the sealed letter from Virion's fingertips. Anje tore ravenously into the letter and unraveled the neatly folded piece of parchment. Feelings of hope quickly turned to despair as Anje's eyes scanned the mysterious letter.
"I can't read this," Anje lamented with a frustrated grimace.
"If I may?" Virion said with an extended hand. "I'm quite the linguist if I do say myself."
"Well aren't you good at everything," Anje snidely commented as she thrust the letter into Virion's hand. Anje sighed as she conceded, "I never learned to read well. Wasn't ever that important…"
"Have no fear Virion is here!" Virion said as he flashed Anje a toothy smile. His expression quickly shifted to perplexed as he examined the note closer. "Though, I must say this script is most unorthodox. It uses old symbols that I can't recognize. Sadly it's beyond my knowledge."
"You can't read it either?"
"Only recognize some bits and pieces," Virion conceded with a sigh. "I'd recommend seeking a scholar in Ylisse."
Anje frowned as that word again graced her ears. Ylisse. Virion said it with such conviction, yet Anje felt something else hidden between his words. Something perhaps similar to the hope that had buried itself into her gut that she desperately wanted to eschew. Anje didn't want hope. She desired clarity and certainty.
Virion handed back the note to Anje, who looked to put it inside her pant pocket only to feel the paper softly drift down her leg. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed and picked up the strange note from the ground.
"Would you like me to hold onto that for you?" Virion offered. "If you searching for a translator, then we might be heading in the same direction. Would you consider joining me?"
Anje's attention remained firmly on the floor as the gears in her mind churned while Virion slowly collected the letter. Anje saw the advantage in Virion's offer; traversing into an unknown land would be much easier with someone than alone. She tilted her head up slightly to observe Virion neatly packing away the note into his inner chest pocket that appeared to be woven with intricate lace. An odd companion to be sure, as he didn't strike Anje in the slightest as someone who would hole up in the cargo hold of a leaky freighter.
"I think that will work, considering I find what I need," Anje agreed. Reluctant as she is to accept help from a stranger, Virion has been forthcoming and genuine with his actions thus far. Only time would tell if he kept up this resolve towards her.
"Excellent!" Virion exclaimed as he clapped his hands together. Anje cringed slightly at the flamboyant display, Anje took a step back as Virion cleared his throat. "Why this is magnificent. I, Virion, the devilishly handsome archer of Rosanne with Anje, the lost performer! We shall make quite the team, mark my words."
"Don't get too carried away," Anje warned as she narrowed her eyes. "Besides, who said you were in charge?"
"Eh, excuse me?"
Anje shook her head as she walked toward the door. "If you shout like that while we travel, I may have to find some ear muffs."
"Well, every occasion deserves a celebration of sorts," Virion rebutted as he raised his index finger as if to lecture her. "It's only natural that the most beautiful and illustrious be-wait where are you going?"
"Fresh air should be up above unless boats don't work how I remember," Anje replied with a bored tone. "But you keep talking, I'm sure you'll still be going when I come back."
Anje powered forward despite Virion's feeble protests. Focused by anger and the gnawing hope she so desperately wished to be gone, Anje walked through the cargo hold with a confident aura about her. She tried to put the intrusive thoughts of home and fear aside and focus on the now; getting fresh air to see something other than Virion and the four wood walls of that room.
While her face showed a woman that was determined, on the inside her thoughts kept gravitating to her last fall. The figure with vibrant embers for eyes that watched her plummet stuck out. The thought of it felt like a fever dream now, though she felt as if it had happened moments ago. Even her memories still felt vulnerable to the dark figure.
Maybe this is all a bad dream, Anje told herself. Maybe I'll wake up from this. At least then I can be certain I'm dead and not linger on these damnable thoughts.
"There we are," Anje mused as she opened the final door at the top of the staircase within the galley of the ship.
With a rough push, the door released to reveal a bright starry evening sky above and the rhythmic sound of waves gently crashing against the vessel. The cool salty air greeted Anje as she departed from the musty-smelling insides of the hull. Anje looked over her shoulder to see Virion hot on her heels with a finger still lazily held up, as if to pontificate his yet to be made point.
"Whew, my you are a fast walker," Virion huffed out as he leaned over to catch his breath.
"I consider myself efficient," Anje said as she smirked at Virion's weariness. "Besides, I needed a change of scenery."
"Very well, I'll keep that in mind when we get Archanea."
Anje nodded to Virion before carefully wandering around the top deck of the ship. The sky above was bright and filled with stars, though no constellations nor any landmarks in view gave her much to go off of.
The water over the side of the deck looked dark and ominous to Anje, yet that didn't stop her from resting her arms on the side railing to take a breather. Part of her hurrying up to the deck so quickly was a means of escape, while a sliver of her believed maybe perhaps this whole ordeal would end in white light when she reached the last door. A foolish notion from a girl with overly ambitious dreams.
"You know, evenings like this are quite soothing, are they not?" Virion commented as he rested beside Anje on the railing, who immediately scooted down a half step. Virion quickly closed the distance and chuckled. "Indulge me, Anje. What is your favorite thing about the night?"
"About the night?" Anje incredulously replied. "There is very little to like about night. The night is night."
"You are perhaps not looking in the right places," Virion said. "When I think of night, I think of the hidden beauties of the world that we ignore during the daytime. The moonlight. The stars. The little creatures that come out to play. And finally, the quiet that comes with the evening that allows our thoughts to wander and dream."
"I think of other things," Anje responded as she raised her hands to her mouth to blow hot air onto them. "I think of what lurks. Shadows that watch your every move. A playground for thieves and bandits. The coldness that wraps around and inside you. The hunger that gnaws at you when you didn't get enough at mealtime," Anje paused to see Virion's eyes downcast with a frown on his previously joyous face. Frowning didn't suit that man. "And finally, it makes me hope. I see the vastness and I wish I could jump up among the stars and carve my own path."
Virion turned to Anje and nodded with a slight smile replacing his frown. "Yes...I think that is an apt way to think of night. A place where wishes and hopes go dancing among the stars. Perhaps our dreams will too one day be up there."
"Perhaps," Anje reiterated with a tired tone.
The anger that had fueled her earlier now had left her. Her limbs felt leaden and stuck in place as she listened to Virion sigh as he looked out into the ocean. No anger or fear remained, not even despair. Only hope paired with a quiet resolve to find answers. But those answers could wait for now, as she gazed out into the open water.
Looking out into the sea gave Anje clarity to her thoughts and perspective. Not too long ago she was bound to a rover circus troupe of underpaid daredevils and dangerous acts, despite her love for the attention from the clamoring crowds and her troupe. Her old family helped fill the hole her birth family could never fill.
Yet, Anje didn't feel sadness at this moment. She tilted her head to look at the man beside her. Virion. While she felt unsure and worried about what the future may bring; Anje knew at this moment that she wouldn't be alone.
A/N: Hello and welcome! Some of you may know me for writing Stolen Remedy, another OC Fire Emblem story here, but this one here is Awakening! This is a story that I'm branching out to write some new (and hopefully engaging) characters. The main themes here I'm working on are refining my romance writing, so hope you enjoy the Archest of Archers :)
Anyways, lemme know what you think!