There would be boring days as almighty rulers; however, neither De Spell would ever admit that. Hours would pass between scared individuals bringing offerings for the sorcerers, and days would linger on in a funny sort of manner. It was like an endless summer, of heat and anticipation. That just made the times when things happened all the more interesting.
Poe always had a grudge against other men in Magica's life. It was always that way. Magica never minded her brother's seemingly obsessive overprotective nature, but her patience would wear thin. She never had any friends, only her brother. Her studies consumed her, along with her brother. It was always the two of them, never anyone else, and it was always going to be that way. That was the assumption when they were young, eager to strike fear into the world's conjoined heart, always trying to find a way to jab at the cruel universe that set them apart. The siblings were close, to say the very least, and that's why it was so important when someone came between them. Rarely did it ever happen, but, when it did, the entire world shook.
The first time the circus entered town, the De Spells were disenchanted with the idea of ruffians stealing from their personal treasury. The townspeople were even more bewitched by the simple folk of the performing arts, spiteful of the true magic the twins possessed. The Bearded Lady or Sword Swallower were much more interesting acts than your father being turned into a goat. Magica loved the animals; it was something that plagued the town. The circus people never seemed to care. They adapted, providing something for everyone in the slowly dwindling town.
That was when Poe was the brains, or enabler, of their schemes. Magica had the talent, and Poe had the strategic background. she'd studied combat while he studied ancient Greek. They'd always made a formidable pair. The dreamer, she'd call herself while turning someone into a frog. Her brother would be just as giddy, but would sour upon the arrival of a second toad. He was bitter about her abilities, Magica thought, being split in two. Magica was more versed while he acted as a guide; that's when Poe started to venture out a bit.
What began as measly adventures to the local tavern had turned into friendships, and Poe quickly became the diplomatic entity of the twins. Magica had the leadership and force of an army, but Poe could talk his sister down like the negotiators of a peace treaty. The townspeople flocked to him, pardon the pun, and Poe gained a reputation. That reputation exceeded him, especially when the circus people came again.
By the fifth year they'd started coming into town, a carousel had joined them. The strange tent had been set up in the center of town, the envy of the pony rides and dancing girls. The contraption was the most popular among the townspeople. Naturally, Poe and Magica were interested in those who ran the grandiose machine. It was during a time that the De Spells only ever went out at night, always holding hands down the long stroll from their castle. Magica could easily remember the lights of the carousel, and the pain that came from her brother's hand leaving hers. He'd always been entranced by the next goal or plan.
The steel gate of the carousel provided a small boundary between the outside world and the fantasy riding a wooden horse gave it's viewers, but it also acted as a barricade from the men of the village attempting to court the operators. They were a pair of sisters; one ran the tickets, and the other ran the ride. The two ducks operated as a pair, completely functional on their own. On busy nights, the dog from the performance booth would give them a hand, but they were often alone. This sometimes encouraged less than savory remarks, but the sisters were stronger than most women of that time.
The woman in the ticket booth was a hard, coarse duck who tolerated nothing but success. She bled innovation, making her the fastest cashier on the fairground. A small cross tied with wheatgrass was always tied to the woman's booth, reenforcing the rumor of suspicion that circled the sisters. The other was much more lively, a free spirit. She would often play the organ at the center of the machine, a smile constantly gracing her face as she would help others onto the moving platform. Children loved the woman, thinking the daring jumps she made from horse to horse impossible. She'd even climb on the poles, only hanging on by the bunched skirt and knee that clung to the cold surface. The girl would hang from the pole, wind in her hair, til the ticket woman would scream at her to not fall. The townspeople loved the two girls. They were sunlight in a sea of salty hail, but no one could figure out where they came from.
The De Spells approached the carousel on a lighter night, when most of the townspeople were still at work. Children were the fair's only guests during that time, but even the children knew to cower at the sorcerers. The girls did not. Magica could easily remember the glare the ticket woman gave them when they approached her booth, her eyes not moving from Magica's. She didn't even acknowledge Poe.
"I've heard about you lot. You're bad for business." She said. Magica scoffed, looking around for her brother. He stood in between the crowds of children, watching as the ticket woman's sister ran around each horse, hopping onto one of the poles. A bright smile was on his face, and Magica scowled. His eyes flicked around the carousel, watching as the young duck entranced the children. The woman laughed at the sight of Magica, turning into a backflip. The woman on the ticket counter sighed, snapping her fingers to get Magica's attention.
"Well, what would you like?'' She asked.
"We'd like to meet you both. Right, Poe? '' Magica turned to her brother, expecting a response. Instead of a bright smile, the same sickening smirk he'd flash his sister was directed at the carousel woman. Infuriated, Magica reached for her brother, receiving a backlash as her arm touched his. The ticket woman sighed again, pulling a lever in her booth. The carousel came to halt, sending the young duck plummeting to the wooden stage instead of hanging by a thread. With a small oof, the girl dusted herself off, refusing to move from her spot on the stage. Her sister raised a hand to her head, rubbing her brow.
"And this is why you run this thing and are not in charge of the money. " The girl muttered. The young duck laughed from her spot, immediately awestruck by the De Spells.
"Well, I'll be damned. It's their excellencies. " She said. Poe immediately felt a rush of heat fall onto his face, stammering for a reply. The utter shame of it all! This silly girl on the ground having the audacity to call them her masters. There was something amusing but shameful about the entire thing. Magica scoffed, looking up at the machine.
"You're the operator, I presume? " She asked. The duck nodded, finally standing up. Strings of hair wrapped around her face as the wind blew, and Poe looked away again. He focused on his sister, unable to read her face. Magica was tricky at times to understand, always thinking about the next spell instead of her words. Her face twisted into a wry smile, and Poe felt at ease. At least his sister was alright.
"I am the only duck who knows how to keep this damned thing from exploding! " The girl said, chuckling to herself. Her sister sighed from behind the pair, immediately rushing to her sister. A glance was shot between the pair, and the younger quieted. The older duck stared at the De Spells, hoping to find some sort of resolution. Magica's smile only widened.
"Well, let's hope that doesn't happen. " She said. "Have a good night, ladies. "
Poe could only describe the next few seconds as intense. Magica immediately retreated from the machine, tugging her brother along. Poe, however, was still staring at the younger duck. The same wriggling, irking feeling of shame and delight wormed into his skull, and it was terrible. There was a sudden fondness in his gaze as the sisters looked back, the younger duck now standing with a placid expression. It was furiating not to see any reaction.
"Poe. Let's go home. " Magica hissed. Poe finally broke the gaze of the sisters, spinning to find his own sister, clearly upset. The single raven lock of her hair was flush to her face, and her beak was spun into a terrible frown. Her hands gripped his jacket with a sudden ferocity, and Poe smiled. He grabbed his sister's arm, taking it under his own. The new prey could wait.
Sister acts were common within the circus. There was not one, but two leading ladies, which always seemed to rake in more customers. That's the way the owner of the tent had put it when the sisters signed onto the staff. One was a singer, the other was a dancer; the perfect pair. There was never a distinct tone in their performances, always playing up the crowd's demands. Some nights would be hot and heavy, but others would be sad and blue. It was the perfect act.
Until the dancer couldn't dance anymore. Tragedy had struck when an overeager man almost broke her ankle, leaving the duck injured. There was immense terror in those hours after the scene, and a deep sense of embarrassment reeked in the older sister's mind. The utter idea of her sister going through the same thing was even worse. She already knew of men in her sister's life, but this new fear overtook everything for months. The act was over, and the pair had to find a new position fast before they were left on the road.
The accident on the carousel was just that-an accident. Everyone at the circus said so. There was no foul play or conspiracy against the mangy owl who ran the contraption. Even his prized pupil, the singing side of the nefarious sister act was heartbroken. Her tears were like a waterfall, covering the cave of lies the girls spun. It was the perfect cover for months, that they would naturally take over. He intended it to be this way, they often said, and no one would disagree. After all, who disagreed with the dead?
Town after town, the sisters played on, the mournful tunes and cheery marches of the mighty Wurlitzer making the hours pass. The grand organ was a symbol of pride for the singing sister; it was her lucky muse. Her star. It was the last thing that connected her to a love a lifetime away. The only song that never played during business hours was his, and the older sister respected this from a large distance. The younger duck's obsession with the song grew, but her love was always halted by the next move to a town or performance for children.
The De Spells were different, in that sense. They were indiscernible as twins or simply siblings, constantly working off each other. There was never any visible argument between them, and the two managed to conquer an entire region. The oldest sister sometimes wished to have that power, but the small ticket counter would have to suffice. The relationship of the owners was always about fighting, in seemingly direct contrast to the De Spells. The oldest was envious of this too.
There was much to be envious of within the circus lifestyle. The chorus girls got their own wagon. The animals had their privacy. There was sound proofing in a home, not a rickety wagon. If you were up to something, everyone could hear it. This led to some wild nights ending in either noise complaints or the endless screeching of the night beasts invading the ears. You never seemed to find issue with the festivities, but your sister acted as your rock. You two were situated in their own wagon, parked far from the rest. There was reasoning to your plan, but it didn't stop men from knocking on your doorstep at foul hours of the morning.
"Sister. He stared at me. " You say, leaving only the last bit of clothes on your person. Your sister scoffs, reaching for the brush besider her cot.
"You can't let those things haunt you. He couldn't have been admiring you. He's royalty. " The thin strands of the brush ran through coarse locks, pulling out knots along the way. The older duck winced, almost whimpering as she raked the fibers through her hair.
"He stared. I'm sure of it. " You insist.. The older duck nods, pulling the brush through again.
"Well, go see him on the offering night tomorrow. Bring him our golden treasures. I'm sure their majesties will love the goblets we stole."'' Your sister says, finally paying attention. You smile fondly, remembering the stained glass of the church you robbed together.
"Yes. I think I will do that."'' You echo, voice softly flying into the wind.
As you climb the rocky cliff, the image of Poe's face staring back at you burns inside your head. Hours had passed since the event, but there was the strange feeling of lust that could not be shaken. You shake her head another time, watching as more goats pass. The saddened look upon the farmer's face only makes you worry more about the choice of offering .
The golden goblets were the prized relic of a church passed on the tour, and it was the perfect opportunity for the tents to make cash. While the townspeople enjoyed the tent shows, every hand not in the performance scurried through the town to collect valuables. For you and your sister, the deacon of the church had been kind enough to provide the goblets, as long as nothing else was touched. The oldest deemed the cups to be satisfactory, and the pair left the little stone building alone. The rest of the town had been sacked. Every home had been tainted by the travelling group, and by the time the circus retreated, there was no gold left in the area. It was a raucous night in the wagons.
You slightly wish for a better way of travel as you reach another incline. There's a deep jealousy within you at the sight of horses, others riding along the hillside. You would eternally be an outsider to them, as long as you were a part of the circus. With another sigh, you continue trudging along, hoping to make it in time.
What felt like hours passed by, but they were only mere minutes. The grand entrance to the palace finally came into view, and you are relieved at the sight of a familiar purple. Burning bright was the image of Poe, and you feel another hot rush of color throw itself onto your cheeks. In the meantime, you could blame the wind, keeping the truth to yourself.
Stone was cold within the castle, the grey bricks lining the way towards the De Spell's throne room. A nervous energy was rampant in the halls, as crowds began to form along the path. You stare around you, beginning to recognize some faces.
"Hey. " One of the circus hands found you, making a point to say something. The dog next to him waved, and the girl nodded in response. There was no need for words to the men you wouldn't see for another week; it was easier to save the words for later. In front of the crowd, the wide wooden doors began to open, encased by a bright, burning aura of magic. You stare as color splashed on your face, watching everyone around you become equally mesmerized. While dangerous, magic was beautiful; the De Spells were not beautiful, but they were dangerous.
"What have you brought us today? " Poe's voice shouted from the other side of the door. You smile at the sound, hoping to finally see the matching face. Torch light filled the crowded hallway, and the surge of people almost sweeps you away. You frown as someone steps on your foot, the nicer leather immediately pushing through the cheap fabric of your walking shoes. It was another detriment to working there-the cheapness of everything. There was a strong desire to provide a better life for the people you surround yourself with, and you were determined to start that with the goblets resting in your hands. With a determined glare, you march in with the rest of the crowd, making sure not to step on anyone.
Poe De Spell was beside his sister, beginning to sit down in the imposing throne. Magica sat in the twin chair adjacent to his, an unamused frown facing their guests. She waved an arm at a group in the front, grabbing her brother's hand as he sat back. He nodded, making a few individuals move towards the throne. They were armed with offerings. A few baskets of food came forth, along with bottles of milk, and it was quickly whisked away by servants. Magica smiled as the large bounty passed in front of her, and her amulet gleamed at the sight of gold. The circus hand you saw earlier presents himself, introducing the circus to the room. Poe was more intrigued than Magica, who immediately turned away from the beagle. Poe's smile quickly faded into boredom, and the blabbering dog spun to you, stretching out his hand.
"I'd also like to introduce you to this lovely lady, who happens to run our carousel. " He said. An electric shock of fear ran through your feathers, and your legs feel like concrete as you march across the room. Your shaking arms hold out the goblets, and you look again at Poe. The same intense stare greets you, and another shiver runs through you. Magica's eyes were immediately on the pair of cups, a smile slowly growing on her face. You feel another rush of excitement at the mere idea of pleasing the lords, but still hold out the goblets. Poe De Spell comes down the stairs with alarming interest, plucking the cups from you.
The physical contact was a necessity between you , but it provided an instant of luxury. It was likely the only moment the two would ever touch, or so you figured. This was it, you think, the only time I shall ever have touch to match a face.
Poe smiled to himself, admiring his reflection in the cups. The gold was cleaned by a superior hand, obviously skilled enough to buff out any details. Even the marks left by his feathers did not detract from the cups, and as he turned to face the girl, he presented a wicked smile.
"These will suit us nicely. From your sister and yourself, I presume? " He said. A rush of panic enters again at the sudden aggressive remembrance of your sister, let alone the fact he remembered you had family. There is an almost stupid look on your face as you nod, hoping that Poe will finally break his stare. Precious seconds filled with abnormal eye contact, and you look away first, backing up into the crowd. Poe smiled again, bringing the cups back to Magica. The witch set them in her lap, spinning them in her hand. She nodded at her brother, and he turned back to the circus group. He waved them off, watching as the girl shuffled away with the rest, the same surprised stare on her face. He chuckled to himself, making a mental reminder to visit the circus at a later time.
Days passed in between the offering nights, but they were wildly uneventful. So, in a desperate act to create action, the sisters took to town. Each had their own day dresses, both a simple grey color, and they could not stick out in the similarly dressed town.
Goats yelled around you, the marketplace becoming a beacon of stability and commerce in the area. Your older sister immediately runs towards a music vendor, searching through sheet music in one crate. Each piece was quickly glossed over for another, leaving room for pages to slip by. You stare nervously at the crowd, weaving in between the various groups. A familiar face slips by, the beagle from the staff, and you wave to him. He tips his hat, moving along with the dancer on his arm. The younger girl giggled, holding a hand to her face. No one could have seen that pair coming.
You'd skipped details after the offering night when explaining to your sister, only mentioning how they were to be spared. In desperation, you'd fended off your sister's questions, rushing into your own side of your conjoined quarters. You were alone the rest of the night, the older girl unwilling to push the subject, leaving you with your own thoughts. There burned the clear image of Poe's smile, almost unwilling to tear away from you. Surrounded by others at the marketplace, this same image brought a darker shade of red to your cheeks, and you moved along the side of the crowd, ducking into another stall. It was the honey tent, selling local ingredients and minerals too. You hold up a bottle, examining it.
"Those cups you offered us were lovely. " A gravelly tenor voice said. Your heart almost jumps at the familiar sound; instead the jar of honey practically smashing back into the table. You spin around, finding a vaguely hidden figure in black watching you.
"I mean you no harm. I only wish to congratulate you on impressing my sister. You've also pleased me. " Poe says, another light smile on his face. There was something entirely surreal about his presence in the shop, and the store owner's absence only further encouraged the idea you really weren't talking to him. You finally release the jar of honey, edging along the side of the table. Poe's yellow eyes concentrate on your movement, finally settling on your face.
"I'm glad I could please then. I aim to do so. " You say, looking away from the sorcerer. There was that laugh again; it could rip apart entire dreams if Poe really meant it. You blindly assumed that nothing comical was in your response, but something had amused Poe. He had a bright smile on his face, and the infectious laughter only made your heart jump.
Poe moved across the room, getting closer to the edge of the tent. He peeked out the front, turning back to you. You can feel a small smile run across your face, still unsure of what you should be thinking. Poe's face quickly turned into a daunting smirk, accentuated by the devilish teal of his feathers.
"It is good to see you, miss. I hope to again, soon. I will visit, at some point. " He says, moving again towards you. The edge of the table buried itself into the back of the younger duck, and you grip the ends of the table. Poe comes in front of you, wrenching a hand from its spot. His other hand went to your arm, gripping the small bit of muscle that had formed. Slowly, Poe bends his head down, and you watch in sick delight. He kissed the light amount of feathers on your hand, a content smile making its way onto his face as he stood upright. You are still stuck to the table, unmoving.
"Good day, then. " He said, beginning to move from the tent. You immediately panic, not wishing to leave the man. There was that sudden rush of life you felt whenever he was near, as though he completed some strange part of you. A desperation began to form for some sort of parting contact, but there was no other choice than to stop him from leaving. You rush forwards, gripping his sleeve. The small hands dug into the soft fabric, a warmth underneath the silk. Poe turns to you with a confused stare, and you immediately retreat from his arm, a slew of apologies coming at lightning speed. Poe, still in light shock, nodded his head, ducking out of the tent. You are alone.
A hand raised itself to your mouth, a quiet squeal leaving your lips. The shop owner bursts through the back curtains, shuffling in with another set of boxes. You stare at the older gentleman, before rushing back into the crowd while shouting another hurried apology. The crowd was a nauseating sea of colors, making it almost impossible to find anyone. You run back towards the music tent, finding your sister completing a purchase. Windswept strands of hair fall as you reach your older sister, and the older duck smiles.
"I finally got new music. " She says. You only nod, not wishing to share any more than before. This would be your secret alone to keep, and only one other could share it.
Hours pass, and the seemingly chance encounter slowly begins to fade, only the memory of soft silk becoming prominent. There were moments on the carousel that stand out, mostly children's delighted faces, but the days were still uneventful. That's when your gaze would fall on the castle above them, the bright magenta flashing in the night sky, and a long sigh would draw out from you. You'd hop from your horse, immediately standing next to your disapproving sister. Shouts would call from the crowd around you, demanding to be let on the machine, but your older sister would shake her head, only letting those with a ticket on the ride.
"You're distracted. It's unappealing to everyone. " Your sister would say, watching as you climb aboard the ride. Children would be plucked from their spots, and soon the contraption would be full, and you would laugh.
"Of course I am. It's only natural. '' you'd say. The ticket woman would scoff in reply, but the look of worry would still be present on her face. Those were nights when the circus people would converge outside the wagons, lighting fires.
These flames danced across your face as you ran across the field, hoping to rush back to your own wagon. Your sister had left for food, meaning you would be alone at last. Voices carried greetings as you passed another group, the dancers performing in front of the large bonfire. Laughter erupted from the front rows, and you only wished to be alone even more.
A hand latched onto your wrist, pulling you back from your path. You yelped, tumbling into the body of the beagle who'd been saying hello to you. His face showed a bit of concern for you, and he immediately released your wrist. You smiled, seeing a few friends sitting around him.
"Won't you stay? It's nice out here. '' He says. You shake her head, moving backwards. A dancer behind him scoffed from her seat, bringing her plate of mush into her lap.
"I can't. I wish to be alone. Next time, I promise.'' You excuse yourself again, and the rest of the group seems sour at your reply. The beagle gives you a waning smile and moves from your side. You nod, moving further into the darkness. The sister's wagon was parked far from any of the flames, and the night wind slowly reached you. You shook as another breeze ran through you, the soft wool you'd wrapped around yourself unfit against the wind. The grass spun in the wind, a few leaves brushing against your skirt.
You reach the wagon door, pressing against the wooden outside, moving closer towards the handle. A cold hand grabbed yours, and leather pressed against the palm of your hand.
You almost scream at the contact, another leather glove wrapped around your face. You try to rush forwards, but the hand holding yours finds itself on your throat, keeping you in place. It was tight, but you could still breathe. It is only restrictive, you think. You shift backwards, finding another body behind your own. A cloak laps against your ankles, the fabric moving in the wind. You groan into the leather glove around your mouth. After another moment of silence, the glove moves away from your mouth, slithering down to your hand. It grabs your own palm again, and you can't resist it.
"I promised I would visit. " The person said. Dread fills your stomach at the realization that this was someone you know, but you cannot place who. The weeks have passed with monotony, and this leather could only be someone higher than the circus. Thoughts swirl in your head, but the person behind you shifts again, pulling you away from the wagon. Your back is against the wood now, but it's scraping slowly to the end. Your eyes dart upwards, meeting golden irises. The little black triangles of these eyes dart around, the unforgiving nervousness of their gaze setting in. Your breath stops at the sudden realization of who it is.
"Poe.'' You say, and your face betrays delight. The golden iris blink twice, before the cloak envelopes further around you. You lean into him, and you move together. He leads the two of you around the fires, keeping out of sight. There is a point where he stops his rushed gait, but you don't speak. Every once in a while, you can feel his hand tighten around yours, the hand around your neck crawling around your collar bone. Grass is what keeps you aware, the sudden spikes of nature curling into your heels as they walk by. Poe's warm body continues to keep away the cold, or perhaps it is the strange embarrassment that creeps into your face. What if someone finds them? Your eyes flicker back to the retreating flames, and the disapproving glare of your sister beginning to form. There's nudge from Poe to move faster, and you continue to follow him.
Darkness encircles the pair, and you only grow more confused. Where were they going? For a small instant, you begin to panic for your safety, watching the flames grow dimmer in the distance. You stopped only for a moment, feeling Poe's hand slither around your wrist. They're at the carousel, a cruel reminder of what you belong to.
"Is this alright?'' He asks in a hushed whisper. There's a moment of silence before you give a hum of approval, but Poe did not seem to care. He was more amused than concerned, at least in appearance, and as he hopped aboard the unmoving machine, you take a moment to look around. There is no one, only the two of you. An outstretched hand meets your own, and he pulls you onto the machine. You moved forwards, beckoning Poe to follow. The cold leather pressed against your hand again, and you lead him towards the center of the machine, weaving your way through the horses. A small compartment door was placed on one side of the middle rotating column, and you kick it open with your heel. You beam at Poe, ducking inside the machine. He lit a match, following inside.
The lantern to the right of you is quickly lit, and you finally see Poe. He lifts the hood of his cloak from his face, the purple streak in his hair standing out against the ebony. It looked so soft, everything about him was soft, and another shade of embarrassment crawled up your spine. How dare you, the dirty circus gremlin, infect this man with your filth? Who was he to ask for that? You shivered at the thought, but did not see Poe's gaze. He smiled, lifting the cloak from his shoulders.
His hand meets your head again, and you give a soft whine as he grasps your collarbone, almost intending to break it. It was a death grip, but it quickly loosened in favor of another possessive curl on your throat. You look at his face, searching for any sign of emotion, only finding soft inklings of rage. You grab his arm, wishing to be let go. He smiles, running a hand through your wispy hair. Another rush of embarrassment; you were unclean in comparison to the ruler the town worshipped, even if that was by use of brute force. Stupid devilish charm...leading all this way, you think.
He tilts your head to the side, another finger running up your neck. You look at him again, watching a concentrated gaze refuse to meet your own stare. You sigh, making a move to push away from the mallard. The grip on your throat tightens again, and you're jerked back to Poe's side. A light chuckle escapes his lips, and the air is still.
"I'm surprised you didn't scream.'' He whispers. You roll your eyes, instead focusing on the glass case behind Poe. It held your precious vinyl, the last flicker of your old flame, his voice forever captured on the record. You hold your breath as you meet his eyes, finding the calculating yellow irises studying your face.
"I couldn't. The leather isn't very easy to scream into.'' You reply. Poe's face shifts into a smile, his hand moving to the back of your head. As you are pushed forwards, you find the perfumed body of Poe, slowly drowning in the intoxicating scent of whatever he'd put on. Maybe this was natural, for all you know, as you'd only ever been around the oily men of the commoners. It was all encompassing as he pets your hair, and it feels like you could faint. He pulls away, his face far too close to yours.
"You are smarter than that, after all. You wouldn't give this up.'' He says, the look on his face too determined for an answer. You won't provide him the luxury of one, instead looking away. Sheet music finds your gaze, and you swallow what little moisture was left in your throat. Of course, it was the vinyl's sheet music copy. Everything seemed to fall apart as leather caressed your chin, moving your gaze back to Poe's .
"I'll have to leave soon.'' You whisper. He nodded, looking around at the carousel. You open your mouth again, ready to explain further.
"Shh. Do not worry. I have taken care of everything.'' He said, focusing back on your gaze. He moved forwards, kissing the top of your forehead.
"You are a part of my treasure now.'' He said. Every bit of guilt you felt earlier came rushing back, and the table you are pressed against feels painful. He looks to the lantern, pulling it towards the two of you. With a quick glance at you, he lifts open the glass panel, exposing the flame. With a hot breath, the flame is gone, plunging you both into darkness.
Poe's focus waned as he sauntered through the castle, the early signs of daybreak entering through the windows. He ran a hand through his hair, moving towards his own quarters. No one could hear his light footsteps, even if they tried, for he had practiced. If Magica were to learn he was "fraternizing'' again, his head could likely burst from the sheer amount of lecturing he would get (and rightfully deserve). A door opened behind him, and the tired face of his sister peeked out from the cracks. His wide eyes betrayed surprise, but Magica did not make a sound. Her eyes did a onceover of his attire, taking immediate notice of the mud on his cloak. She sighed, putting a hand to her head.
"I won't stop you, but I don't want another word about my flings ever again.'' Magica's frown deepened as she saw her brother's eyes sparkle, and she began closing the door.
"Don't be stupid.'' She warned. The door hissed as it shut, and Poe sighed. She'd be too tired to remember the conversation, but he now had leverage. He was now free to pursue.
The next morning was full of panic for you, as you woke up in bed alone. You were sure that someone had been there with you, but that might have been the smoke playing tricks on your mind. Either way, the memories of what transpired in the carousel's interior flashed through your mind, and a small groan escaped your mouth. It was a momentary lapse in judgement; you were still faithful to someone else (your faith was wavering).
Stepping into the fresh air should've been good for you, but instead it only made you more depressed. You practically ran to the carousel, ignoring everyone on the way. There, inside the golden machine, was the record still encased in glass, and as you reached for the corresponding sheet music, tears began to fill your eyes. What did you do to yourself to deserve this? What did he see in you to begin with?
A mournful tune splashed through the air, bringing people to the fair. The Wurlizter came to life under your fingers, digits precisely moving according to the blurry sheet in front of you. You knew this song by heart; it was your old flame's song. The one you used to dance to. Over and over, the song soared around the carousel, the Wurlizter heaving to keep up with your playing. More buttons and pedals were pushed, and the cacophony of sound rose higher into the air.
Across town, your sister rushed back towards the carousel, almost causing three wagon accidents on the way. She knew what it meant when that song played, and there would be no risk in leaving the circus. It was much more secure than a simple apartment flat, living off a performer's salary in a town that had plenty. Desperation clawed at her mind as she reached the machine, throwing open the door.
Sunlight flooded in around you, framing your broken image in front of the Wurlizter. You looked to your sister, expecting to be scolded, receiving a tight hug instead.
"We'll be back to him soon. You're the only thing that's kept him going. Write to him.'' She whispers. You nod, your hands continuing to move across the keys. Another melody picks up, slowly morphing and changing as you continue to make errors. Anger fills you, and you slam your hands on the keys in frustration. There's lots of unusual excitement in you, and it may be partly due to last night. You'll never admit that; instead, you leave with your sister, slamming the door behind you. You want to cleanse the room of that accursed perfume, finding rage instead of love for the sorcerer duck. However, deep down, there is a part of you that deeply wishes to see him again. You suppress it, for now, trying to focus on the man you left behind. It doesn't work for very long, as your mind continues to return to the concentration of yellow in a pair of eyes, flanked by dark green feathers and a sinister smile.
t's another day before you see Poe again, and it's grueling. There's a deep emotional conflict about this devil within you, constantly taking up your thoughts. Bruises form where you've fallen off the carousel, and you begin to regret your stunts. Until, he's standing there in the crowd. Or, at least, you think so. You're pretty sure you see the black cloak with the people, but the carousel moves too fast for you to be certain. You only get a confirmation at the pub later, where the circus folk have gathered instead of the fires.
You smile as you walk by the beagle again, the man immediately following you across the room to another table. You've been table hopping all night, you think, and there's a never ending trail of conversation between you and the group you'd been following. He throws an arm around you, hoisting your arm into the air. The table cheers as you sit, and you recognize the faces you'd turned down the other night. The dancer next to you smiles, giving you something to drink. Her face promises something good, but the foul tasting drink is hard to swallow. There's a lingering after taste, and you fake a smile, hoping to impress. It works, but you don't let them refill your glass. More people come and go around you, and another duck from the stagehands wagon asks you to dance. There's a growing circle at the center of the room, and you gladly accept.
The world whirls like the carousel, except everything is much more alive. The duck in your arms smiles at someone behind you, and you laugh. It is so different from the mechanical marvel you operate, and it feels like home. It feels like the small apartment you miss so much, but it doesn't last. Happy things never seem to for your sister and yourself.
You're thrown to the side, in favor of a much prettier dancer, and you trail back to your own table. The girls there study you, one finally making a comment.
"You should sing for us.'' She looks you in the eye, noticing your surprised expression.
"Oh, yes! You always had such a way about it.'' Another girl says. You shake your head, another round of cheers circling around the dance floor. You find another man asking you to dance, an older owl. You graciously take his hand, spinning away from the protesting table. There's a pause before the dance starts, and you're whisked away again, happy to feel alive again.
A sharp grip finds your shoulder, replacing you with another dancer in the owl's arms. The gleeful eyes of your sister drag you away from the dance floor, pushing you to the back of the pub.
"Will you be okay alone?'' She asks in a hushed whisper. You nod furiously, watching as your group removes themselves from the table. She looks over to them and shakes her head.
"Promise me, you'll be safe.'' She says.
"I will. You have nothing to fear.'' You turn to the crowd again, watching as a dark figure retreats into the shadows. Your smile wavers, thinking again of the other night, and your sister pulls away from you. Small inklings of betrayal fall over your fingers, feeling her slip away, but you correct yourself. She was her own person too, and you had to deal with your own mess. You move back towards your own group, watching as they continue out the door. You rush after them, but they are gone by the time you reach the outside. You sigh, looking back into the pub. There was no point in going back, and you continued down the street, the glaring magneta of the castle above shining on you.
You move towards the postal service, a small bell ringing above you when you step in the door. The person behind the counter looks up, and a smile graces their face.
"Ah! So they do send letters.'' They say. You nod, pointing to a piece of paper and pens. You soon are situated in the back corner, loopy letters forming across the page. It looks rushed, almost scared, but you don't care. Something needed to be done about clearing your head.
"Who's it to?'' The clerk asks from the desk. You quickly sign the letter, stuffing it into the envelope.
"Someone very important to me. '' You reply, handing it to them. They write a few markings on the outside, looking back to you.
"Where to?''
"Hollywood.''
"Ah. The States. Family there?''
''In a way, yes.'' Your eyes dart around the room as they ask more questions, hoping to avoid the scrutinizing gaze of the clerk. By the time you leave the building, it's completely dark, and you're without an escort.
You move with the street lights, hearing sounds of a party a few blocks away. The beagle's smile flashes in your head, but you're stopped by the darkness ahead. You stare out into the unlit street, immediately turning into an alleyway without thought. Someone was in the darkness watching you; you'd stake your life on it. Ahead the party lies, bright colors flashing in front of you. Leather brushes your wrist, but it only causes you to break into a run, rushing out into the street of people. The glacial hand doesn't touch you again as you rush past people, dirt being pulled up from the street.
There's a sudden rush of excitement within you, knowing you've escaped, and you move through the crowd with a relaxed pace. The circus folks are at the helm of the beast, the lion tamer holding his hat in the air. You smile, watching as more familiar faces gather around you. Everyone around you is happy, and the energy is infectious. Another drink is thrust into your hand, and you down it, making a sour face as the crowd continues to move. You follow them, keeping towards the center. If you were surrounded, there'd have to be a scene to find you. Nothing happens, and the party continues back to the wagons, where you eventually end up. Outside of the fortune teller's wooden transport, you laugh with a few others, uncaring for the arm tossed around your shoulder.
From across the green, you can see your sister and your former group, seated around a growing fire. Part of you would like to join them, but there's a sweet contentedness in how relaxed the man next to you is. He's another stagehand, likely from the acrobats. His infectious grin is almost as bad as the lion tamer's, and you can't choose which is better. Another laugh erupts from you, and the grip on your shoulder tightens.
You force yourself to pull away from him, beginning to trail around the side of the wagon. The stagehand doesn't seem to care as you move away, but you are stopped by someone else. Dread pools in your stomach as you follow your gaze to the hand latched to yours, finding instead someone familiar. It's another girl (thank god), and she walks with you arm in arm across the green. You're easily delivered to your sister, giving her a tight hug. You don't notice the visibly shaking man across the green, or his yellow eyes twitching in the dark, but maybe you just choose not to acknowledge them.
The next morning you find yourself in front of the carousel, determined to air out the inner room. There's been a mess in there the last few stops, and some strange part of you wishes to organize the various music scores and parts you have in there. As you hop the iron gate, you notice that the lock has been busted. Another thing to add to your list-replace that. There's not a lot of emotion following your steps to the inner, still finding the mess on the floor. You cross the room, holding your breath, and soon both doors are open. You smile, finding the sunlight endearing.
"I hope I won't be interrupting.'' A dark shadow casts across where you are stuffing papers into a drawer, the frown on your face only becoming deeper. It's him, again, and you sigh.
"No. You could never interrupt anything. What can I do to help you?'' There's a certain level of pretend that comes with your tone, almost as though you choose to forget what has transpired between the two of you. Poe De Spell laughs, stepping inside of the inner room.
"You're trying to clean, I presume?'' He asks. You nod, shoving more papers into another drawer. His gaze falls on the encased record, and your breath stops. It takes everything in you to not scream at him to leave, hoping he won't touch the record. He admires it for a moment before turning back to you, the sour look on your face intriguing him.
"Yes. I would like to be left alone.'' You plead with him, hoping to draw attention away from anything else in the room. Poe shakes his head, only moving closer.
"But, you see, I would like something from you.''
Your arm is held out faster than he can proceed, and it keeps him at bay long enough for you to move towards the other door.
"No.'' Your words are quiet, and you almost regret your refusal upon seeing Poe's enraged face. You've kept your boundaries, and that in itself is a silent victory for you. For Poe, it's rejection, and his actions clearly show his contempt for refusal.
"You dare to refuse me?'' He asks. The same purple aura you've seen before fills the room, and Poe is encapsulated in it. He rises from the floor, coattails flickering in the wind that has now picked up.
"You'll be sorry!'' He screeches, disappearing into thin air. It's a bit anticlimactic, you think, but you soon realize what's happened. The machine outside creaks to life, and the horses begin spinning faster than they should. You're trapped inside the inner room, and the wind is picking up again. The world passes by with screams from people around the carousel, and you can faintly hear the shouts of your sister. There's a moment of panic in you before you reach upwards, removing a cooling valve for the carousel's operating system. It was fatal to the machine, which would likely burst into flames, but you had to get out.
Sure enough, your assumption was correct and the flames spread higher and higher into the canopy. Finally, the machine slowed and you rushed again into the arms of your sister, tears streaming down your face as you watched your beloved contraption be soaked with water. That would be your final lapse in judgement, ever getting involved with magic, but there's only one way to fix this.
"We'll be stuck here for weeks with repairs. It'll ruin the circus.'' Someone speaks within earshot of you, and you stare at the castle above. It's not the best solution, but it's the only chance you might have.
There's a deep fear within stepping inside the De Spell's castle again, but remembering the painted look on your sister's face lights a fire. It's anger you feel for defacing your property, and you will get your way. Magica sees you in the throne room, clearly impressed you've come to argue with her brother. She's disturbed by your story, but there's a slight disbelief that her brother would do such a thing. Then again, he was eyeing you during that first night at the carnival. She waves you away, sending you and a butler to his chambers. As the massive doors stand in your way, fear creeps in again, and you feel lost.
The door creaks open at the butler's behest, and you're alone in the dark as he leaves. You've come to understand that people come and go quickly in this castle, but you wish you were not alone. There's another few moments of silence before you begin to explore, feeling your way through the dark. You find a gas lamp moments later, beginning to have a look at the room. It's quaint, you think, but still regal. The large vanity of mixtures (and eyeliner) sits adjacent to you, but you don't dare look in the mirror. A bed frame made of oak is farther from you, and the purple curtains hanging from the rafters add an aura of imminent danger you just can't seem to explain. It's frustrating, this room, and you don't know why. Maybe it's the obvious luxury and show of wealth? No, it's more than that. There's something wrong with you being in his room, and you hate it.
"I didn't think you'd come so quickly. I would've thought you'd try fixing that machine first before begging.'' You whip around to find Poe at the door, a pleased smile on his face.
"I'm not here to beg. I've come to demand your compliance in fixing the owner's property.'' You can feel how heavy the air is, and there's a part of you that wants to run for it. It's too late, and Poe shuts the door behind him. His gloves are off in an instant, and the white shirt looks strange on him, his jacket abandoned on the bed. There's a look of slight disbelief on his face as he moves towards you, like he doesn't believe you're really there. It's gone when his hand meets yours, pulling you into a stiff embrace. He enjoys it more than you; you're only here to get the machine fixed.
"I've missed you so much.'' He leans back, golden irises flickering with anticipation. You frown, pushing him away.
"I want my machine fixed.'' You're monotonous in your voice, and Poe throws his hands in the air, frustrated at your lack of a response.
"All you think about is that damned circus! When will you learn there are greater things than silly entertainment. You're constantly hungry; there's no security.'' He holds your hands now, and they feel cold. "Where will you go when it's over?''
This was a question you weren't expecting, but it's something you're willing to take a gamble on.
"Home. My lover waits for me there.'' Your words bring a smile to his face, but Poe quickly realizes it's not him you're referring to. As you let go of his hands, something in his gaze snaps, and he's cornered you on the bed frame. Your back is pushed against the wood, painfully stabbing into you.
"Do I mean nothing to you?'' He asks. You shake your head, looking to the floor. You can't bear to look in his eyes.
"You've been a dear companion for a little while, and that's all I'm comfortable with. However, I will not abandon my true love.'' You are firm in your speech, and the confidence you have brings a light smile to your face. Poe sighs from in front of you, bringing you close to him again. He shakes as his arms embrace you, and you think nothing of it. That is, until he throws you on the bed.
Malice rests in his gaze, and it all quickly becomes another mistake. He's smiling wickedly as he leans over you, and you swear his eyes glaze over green.
"If you've left him once, you can do it again. You are mine, and I will save you from a cruel fate.'' Poe's face is frantic with jealousy, unsure of which part of you to grab first. You kick at him, climbing off the bed. He's too fast, grabbing you by the leg, making you fall. You scream and kick at the duck as he drags you across the room, but he's stronger than he lets on. He's thrown you into the bathroom, locking the door with a key as you stand. You pound against the door, hearing his laughter.
"We will continue this conversation later, treasure. However, I believe you already know my answer. I'll even have your sister brought here if you'd like.'' His offer is enticing, but your thoughts are stuck on the record in glass within the carousel.
"Don't you dare.'' You warn. Poe groans again, his fist making impact with the door.
"Fickle! That's what you are! I offer everything you could ever want, an escape from that dingy trap of a circus, and you still refuse me. You will break in time, dear, but until then, you never leave this castle.''
Hurried footsteps move away from the door, and you sink to the floor in desperation. Even the water won't turn on, you discover, and there's no blades in the bathroom. That option is out, likely thought of by Poe before you arrived. You scream again, hoping someone will save you. No one comes, and it looks hopeless. Your lapse in judgement has consequences after all, and you will pay with your life.
Magica finds you sobbing in the bathroom, your failed attempts to break out evident from the busted window. She immediately grabs you, dragging you out into the hallway. There's deep fury in her eyes, and when she speaks to you, you're expecting anger.
"I'm so sorry he's done this. I neve expected him to go this far.'' Kindness greets you, and it's a breath of fresh air compared to the obsessive deceit of her brother.
"I can take you back to the circus, but you must leave at once. You and your sister cannot stay here. He'll kill you.'' Magica's voice exploded with fury as you continued down the hallway, only stopping to avoid servants.
"He'll know if we take the mountain roads. People will talk.'' You speak in a hushed whisper, and Magica grabs your hands. She leans in, similarly to Poe, looking at you through her eyebrows.
"I will get you out of here. I promise.'' It's strange to hear her speak with such serious sincerity, but you nod in agreement. She raises her staff, and the world around you warps. The walls shake with intensity and you rush into Magica's arms. She feels cold against you, and soon the purple haze surrounding you becomes a familiar looking wagon. Magica fades from your grasp, leaving you alone in your quarters.
Your sister is nowhere to be found, and you can't tell why people are shouting outside the wagon. With a deep breath, you open the door, peeking out into the field. There's men with guns, ushering aside some circus people. The unmistakable logo of the Pinkerton Agency catches your eye. `
You've been followed to Europe, and these men will likely make you pay for the accident you and your sister caused many years ago. These "detectives'' do anything for their pay, you've heard. When you see your sister with a gun to her head, you aren't sure that leaving the castle was the correct choice after all. There's a nudge against your back, and you turn with horror to find another man with a gun, a glazed look on his face.
"C'mon. Time's up.'' You're pushed from the wagon, joining everyone else in the hot sun.
Magica paces around her room, unsure of what to tell her brother when he returns. There's going to be some suspicion towards the sorceress, but she wonders if Poe would even think his family would hurt him like this. It's for the best became her mantra, and as she heard a shout from across the castle, she almost screamed in fear.
Every servant in the hallways fled for their quarters, determined to avoid the De Spells at any cost. Magica threw two younger girls into her chambers, moving out into the hallway. There was no sign of her brother yet, but furious anticipation clung to the air.
"Brother?'' She called out. No response came immediately, but a wail soared through the hallway. Magica shivered as it got closer, and there was Poe. His hands were constantly on his amulet, using it to throw whatever displayed in the hallway to the wall. He rushed to Magica's arms, throwing himself into her embrace. Magica ran a hand through her brother's hair, trying to appear concerned.
"She's thrown herself from the castle. She's gone.'' He moans, and Magica almost scoffs. He gives her a look of disgust, moving away from her.
"You don't care, do you?'' His words cut through Magica, and she smiles.
"Poe, you are family. It's my job as your sister to care. We're a team, after all.'' She reaches for his hand, but he continues to back away.
"How can I-''
"Milords! There's a ruckus in the village. Men have come for the circus people.'' The beagle delivering the news falls to the floor, tired from the run up the mountain. Poe turns to Magica, and he has a look of desperation on his face. Magica sighs, grabbing her brother's hand, moving down the hall.
They've taken you into the woods, along with your sister. She's disappeared from your sight but you can still hear her crying. It's reassuring, in some way, compared to the angry owl behind you.
"You killed 'im. Over a job.'' He repeats himself again, almost convincing himself that he needs to kill you. The shotgun in his feathers is intimidating, and you won't run. Not without your sister.
The group gathering you has sent you farther into the forest than you thought possible, the pine trees growing more dense as you move forwards. They're everywhere and they make it very hard to see.
"Magica!''
Poe's voice rings out, and a shot goes off. You hear your sister scream, and you run around the next tree. You immediately turn away, the sight too disturbing for you. The owl that was behind you raises his gun, and you sigh, eyeing the branch next to you.
Magica's grip on her brother's hand tightened after the first shot was fired, and the dense tree line gave no help to the sorcerers and people that were determined to find the captured party. The people below the hovering De Spells held torches and pitchforks, and it was strange to see the groups working together. Another shot rang out, and Poe lunged forwards. Magica tackled her brother, sending them both flying to the forest floor.
"We have to stay together.'' She hissed, her arm outstretched over his. "If they separate us, we're useless.''
Poe nods, and together they stand in unison, another shot ringing out through the forest. A few screams ring out in the crowd as they round the next tree, and Magica is shocked by what has happened. Bloody footprints lead away from the terrifying corpse of the carousel woman, and the town is mortified. Magica sighs again as Poe clutches her arm, that same look of desperation finding itself on his face. They don't find another body that afternoon. They don't even find a body that month, but rather the camp of detectives far in the forest. Your body is never found, unsurprisingly, and there's nothing that can be done. Poe's heartbroken, but Magica hopes you've gotten away. Far away.
Rumors persist for years that you've escaped the forest, returning home to the States. The post office beagle swears your letter has a response, but it has been "lost in my mail sorting''. Some say you've found your lover again, the singer in a jazz club, holed inside their apartment far across the world. The stories about your lover stop the moment Poe passes, but the village is still upset for months. There's a desire from them to turn you into a hero, the one that got away, and (much to Poe's fury) they celebrate your death with parties for weeks.
Even when the circus people initially leave, taking the broken carousel with them, there's no sense of sadness in the air. They've lost one of their own, giving them a burial in the little field, but they are still frollicking in their carts. Life has moved on for them, and the owner is soon focused entirely on making up for lost profits and the next stops on their tour. By the next carnival season, they know to avoid the small town in the mountains.
Dear Magica,
I've wanted to thank you for all this time for what you did for me. Before I begin my story, I'd like to inform you that I've enclosed a photograph I think you'll like to have, along with a record from a live performance I did a little while back. You've gifted me the chance to sing again, and I can only extend the favor by sharing my voice. Now, about that night….
The words on the page seem to taunt the sorceress on her throne, her brother unamused next to her. Her hands are shaking along with the package in her lap, and she feels like she's dreaming. Poe stares at his sister, attempting to grab the note. She flings her arm away, giving a look of anger.
"What? Is it something important?'' He asks. Magica sighs, eyeing the record in the package. It's the exact same label as the one Poe has on display in the castle, a gift from the circus that stopped coming years ago. There's a very recognizable name below the lead singer's, and Magica's heart stops. She stares at her brother, a smile coming onto her face.
"Nothing to worry about. Just an old acquaintance.'' She says. His face lights up with relief, and he smiles.
"Anyone I would know?'' His question makes Magica almost scream, and she holds the note closer to her heart.
"No. I don't think you'd remember.'' It's a stupid comment; of course her brother would remember you. He even stood on the edge of the forest some nights, staring out into the darkness.
She shivers again as Poe turns away from her, focusing on the next offering. Magica hesitates to look at the note again, but after a quick glance, she puts the package to the side, the photograph fluttering on top of it. Magica's grip on her brother's hand is tight, and as they stand, she can only focus on the people below her. As Magica collapses into her chair, the newly formed goats below her begin to scream. She held her hand to her head, thinking of the screams in the forest. Not many things have come between the siblings, but the world likes to laugh at them, never letting them forget.