5. Comfortable Illusions
Summary: In which Zesha and Zepha decide that Therius needs to spend a little time with them. Takes place just after the events of the previous chapter.
Performers: Illusionists Zesha and Zepha, Contortionist Therius
The Contortionist let out a breath as he journeyed to his tent. He was praying that he wouldn't get lost this time (though he usually did, it was basically a ninety-nine-point-five chance of him ending up in the wrong tent), considering that the tents were always set up differently every time...
He then saw, in the moonlight, the appearance of his own tent. A creamy white, it glowed quietly in the moonlight, draping elegantly and pitched well (probably with thanks from the Strongman and Strongwoman, Therius figured).
He kind of stared at his tent for a moment. Did he actually find his way to his tent for once? Seriously? The Contortionist felt a small bit of pride bubble up in his head. Now he could actually tell the carnies that he didn't get lost for once. That felt good.
At the same time though, Therius decided as he continued towards his tent, it kind of sucked not ending up in Yurick's tent. As embarrassed as he felt about it, Therius actually really didn't mind being in the same tent (and bed) as Yurick sometimes. And he and the Firebreather got along decently. Yes, they had their minor arguments, but besides that it seemed alright...
As soon as he stepped into the tent, he knew that something was wrong. Everything was still, silent, but something was off. If something felt off...that probably meant that certain Illusionists were nearby. Therius knew that they weren't going to come out unless they wanted to, or unless spurred on by something. Therius paused, trying to remember some lines, before speaking.
"Angels, and ministers of grace, defend us." he started quietly, looking around. "Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd. Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell. Be thy intents wicked or charitable. Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, that I will speak to thee..."
There was silence.
And then a voice spoke, whispering ever so gently into his ear.
"You have witchcraft in your lips," Zepha murmured softly, his breath tickling Therius' skin. Therius swore he heard Zesha laughing from somewhere.
Therius frowned a bit. He wanted sleep and the twins were ruining it. How would he get rid of them? Would an intentional insult work...?
"More of your conversation," The Contortionist replied, "would infect my brain."
Zesha appeared in front of him, glaring slightly. "Take you me for a sponge?" He hissed, glaring even more at the Contortionist in front of them. "Thou mis-shapen dick!"
Therius growled a bit in frustration-from running out of Shakespearean lines as well as figuring that he should apologize now, lest he be haunted with nightmares in his sleep. He stopped himself from spouting yet another insult, and instead gave an apology.
"If it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul."
There was silence for a moment, Zesha and Zepha both appearing in front of Therius as the tent surroundings about him shifted to what Zesha and Zepha's tent looked like. Black and white striped colours, everywhere, and Therius swore that there were floating candles flickering about. Zepha paused, before speaking up.
"A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool." Zepha then gave Therius a small half-smile. "And you, Contortionist," he continued, breaking out of the lines, "are a wise man..."
If there was a response like that, the apology was accepted. Otherwise they probably would have used another insult.
Zesha gently escorted Therius to a cushion-like chair, which was extremely soft and comfortable. Therius thought, for a moment, that he might simply sink into the chair as if it was nothing but a giant pile of marshmallows. Therius nearly felt swayed by some sort of scent (was it roses or something? Whatever it was, it was very soothing, and reminded him briefly of the last time he'd been in Mirania's tent for a quick visit) that invaded the air around him, soothed to the point that any frustration he'd felt from earlier slowly dissipated into nothing. The Contortionist let himself relax, just as Zesha sat by Therius side, smiling faintly.
"Are you surprised," Zesha started quietly, "That the dear Acrobat decided to accompany you despite not having to?"
Therius let out a quiet breath, before speaking. "I am a bit surprised, yes. That I admit completely. I do not understand why, though..."
Zepha let out a quiet sigh from nearby, the blue-aura Illusionist still standing. "She has a curiosity for the outside world, outside of the carnival. I envy her greatly that she can easily walk about outside without being seen as someone that will be possibly infected with the sickly orchids that we have..."
Therius nodded quietly in agreement. Despite of what he knew of Calista from the past (something about her being a noble, wasn't it?) she was still somehow able to walk around freely in public without being shunned, or anything of the sort. When not in her Acrobat outfits, she looked like any normal civilian of any empire or other place. With Zesha and Zepha, however they had the disease that was all the rage everywhere. They had survived, somehow, whether it be by luck or something in their DNA, but despite them not being carriers of the disease there was no way anyone would even come near them. Zesha and Zepha always made sure that they used illusions to conceal their orchid-shaped marks on their skin so that no one would get into a huge panic about it.
However, that didn't really help explain why.
Zesha noticed his frustration, and the red-aura Illusionist gently ran his fingers through a lock of Therius' white hair. "You want to know why she would wish to accompany you? Perhaps," He smiled a bit at this, "Perhaps she has a liking towards you, Contortionist. You two worked so well together in your today that I swear that if I was one of the audience, I would have thought you two to be lovers."
Therius shook his head, looking away from him-only to make eye contact with Zepha, who spoke up.
"Are you so completely sure of that?"
Therius paused, before nodding. "Of course. She wouldn't see me in that way. Me, one that cannot truly fly like her. I do admit I have some envy for her talent. If there is anything I see her closely as, it is more of a sister, in a way, and if not, friend."
Zepha seemed to ponder about that for a moment, before Therius thought he saw Zepha faintly smile. It mad the Contortionist wonder if Zepha was the one who had a thing for Calista, considering that he was practically staring at her during the entire performance. Therius always had this habit of noticing things-a gaze from someone, a gesture of another, what they were saying that was in their eyes. Therius could read it all, and what he was reading right now from Zepha was relief that he didn't have to fight with Therius over Calista.
Therius felt tired, suddenly, as if he'd just practiced his act for six hours straight without stopping. He tried to stay awake, but his body refused to obey. He sank more into the chair, his body completely collapsing.
"Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow..." He heard Zesha murmur.
There was a pause, before Zepha spoke.
"...That I shall say good night till it be morrow."
Therius could barely get a word of goodnight out of his mouth before he fell asleep.
Zesha and Zepha watched Therius sleep quietly in his own bed. The two had actually led Therius back to his own tent for once. But...they thought it would be nice to trick him a little, to make him think that he thought that he ended up in Zesha and Zepha's tent by accident. What a brilliant trick it was.
"Brother?"
Zepha turned to Zesha.
"Yes?"
The other Illusionist paused, before speaking.
"Do you think Yurick might be disappointed by the fact that the Contortionist is not sharing the bed with him tonight?"
Zepha smirked at this.
"I do."
Author note: Okay...there are a lot of Shakespearean lines from Romeo and Juliet, and a whole bunch of other plays, so I don't own them...