How to Make a Sinner Sleep - Chapter 74: Chapter 74

The circus was where dreams were born in the midst of dazzling lights and inhumane talents that could be disguised as the living's most natural magic.
The four hustled to the tent, melting in the night where it stood, location unknown.
All they knew was that they were at the circus, but not where they were. Illusionary magic had been used again to blur and disguise the location.
Perhaps they were everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
At the entrance, where the flap of the tent was pinned back, a woman waited with raven hair pooling down her back, down her legs and just missing the ground. A white lace ribbon rested over her eyes, drawn into a bow behind her head.
She was decorated like a design, a masterpiece crafted.
With a black dress that draped behind her, cut shorter in the front to reveal porcelain legs, silver jewels twinkled where they were placed—hanging at her ears, her neck, at her wrist to connect every slender finger folded in front of her.
She turned her head to their direction, a gloss of the night skies painted over her lips.
"Welcome, guests of the circus."
Niklas strolled forth, leaning forward to press a kiss to her hands. She allowed him, reacting impassively, arm limp as he took it.
"Does this circus have a name, fair lady?"
Kaden shuddered, goosebumps on his arms. He glanced at Noah who wore a similar expression, seemingly slightly disgusted behind his mask.
But Niklas had an undeniable charm that worked, and if they had to endure this flirt of a friend, they could manage.
The woman shook her head, a slow sway. "There is no need to name something temporary. Something that isn't meant to last. The circus can be the Circus."
"Is that so?" Niklas smiled, lazily stepping back. "Then, may we partake in the festive acts you have planned?"
"First," She held out her silver-decorated hands, both palms up. "Allow me to read you. To see you. Only those skilled and unique may enter the Circus."
"Just by looking at us, you can't tell? Particularly, looking at that foxy over there? He's very unique."
Niklas waved over at Kaden, who stepped forth and muttered, "When we return, I'll feed you the spiciest chillies I can find."
"Ah, Foxy," Niklas whispered back. "The one who lacks tolerance isn't me, is it?"
"If I shove it down your throat, I'm certain you'll choke regardless."
"How scandalous, Kaden, speaking of shoving something—" Mid-speech, Niklas felt his body crudely shoved to the side as a broad body moved between them. "...You're not subtle at all, you know that?"
Noah's reply was simple. "I'm not trying to be."
Kaden, unaware of their conversation that was quietly muttered, looked up at Noah and smiled. "My darling Doggy. Starved for attention, are you?"
"If I say yes, will you give me attention?"
"I do adore dogs." His green eyes twinkled with mischief. "But you don't look too much like one. So I'm not sure."
The dragon regarded the masked fox beside him silently, a dangling earring hanging on one ear as he opened his mouth to utter an impassive,
"Woof."
"Cough—" Niklas spat out air, clearing his throat. "Hurry, do you have any water? Any liquids? I need some to spit out in shock!"
Even Kaden was a little surprised at the serious 'bark' and a breath of laughter slipped past him, his eyes curving. "That was a very realistic bark," It wasn't. "Care to prove yourself more?"
Deciding Kaden was growing a little too smug, the dragon lowered his head to whisper in the other's ear. "Do you want another bark? My loyalty? Or would a bite suffice?"
Kaden stiffened, tilting his head languidly as a smile stretched on his lips, surprising Noah who shifted back slightly.
The fox revealed his teeth. "I think I'll take that bite?"
Serves you right, Kaden thought proudly in his mind, if you can become immune to my teasing, I can as well.
Noah turned his head, responding with an amused huff.
Nicola laughed at their shenanigans, her spot behind giving her the perfect space to eavesdrop. Stepping around, she smiled politely at the woman. "What shall I do? Do I need to place my hand in yours?"
Niklas leaned to Noah, since his spot next to Kaden was taken. "Don't you think the Pres is even more charming than me? I'd swoon if she said that."
Kaden sneered. "Anybody can be more charming than you."
"Sorry, Foxy, I don't think I was talking to you?"
"He and I are the same. Isn't that right, my loyal Doggy?"
Noah suddenly regretted standing in the middle of two fools, but it was too late to step away. He turned his attention to Nicola.
The woman had her hands placed flat against the other's, gently resting atop.
There was movement behind the white ribbon, as if skin had moved, as if she'd opened her eyes behind the slip they hid behind. Her voice took an angelic turn, a vibration buzzing in their ears.
"Devotion, you are. A loyalty that transcends lifetimes, suited to the armour you wear tonight. Protecting a fruitless love, when you loved truly, and when you loved falsely. Pitiful dear, adored by all but those you desired."
Nicola's smile didn't waver, a kindness in her gentle cherry gaze. "I don't believe I'm pitiful. I'm blessed to have loved and to have lived."
The shorter woman tilted her head curiously. "You truly believe that?"
"Yes. Yes, I do."
"Devoted you are indeed."
Kaden thought she heard a click of the woman's tongue as she waved her hand in the air to Noah, gesturing for his turn. He left his position beside Kaden, and was about to take his gloves off before he stopped.
Then, he looked at his own. "Do I have to take these gloves off?"
"It would be polite to do so." And the dragon was often well-mannered, despite his bouts of silence. The woman glanced past him, a long piece of hair falling over her shoulders. "But you may do as you will. It will not change anything."
He nodded, and placed his gloved hands over hers.
"A knight you appear, dear poet, but a knight you are not. That is a role that belongs to neither she, nor you. You can only write the story and pray it loves you."
Noah's hand lingered, saying nothing before he stepped back, allowing the next person to approach.
Niklas smiled languidly. "My turn?"
Was Kaden mistaken, or did the woman sigh?
"My beloved friend, companion to our kind." All three bystanders stared at Niklas. He scratched his chin sheepishly, placing the hand back down. "No secrets shall I spill, but you cannot escape the requirement I've been assigned."
"Even if I ask nicely?"
She ignored him. "To each guest, I must read them. A liar you are, and yet more honest than any other you attempt to be. Do you practice honesty to mask your guilt?"
"I feel like this is a little more attacking than the other ones."
"You've imagined it, dear companion." She said impassively, waving him away.
Kaden stepped forth next, hidden by the guise of a skeleton mask and the costume of a fool. He smiled, the red lines making it appear wider, more vicious. He rested his hands lightly over the slender palm, barely grazing.
"You behave as if I have germs, and you're reluctantly touching me."
He felt a little apologetic. "I have a phobia."
"Of germs? Or of women?"
Niklas snickered, muttering, "Both, of course." But the standing two pretended to hear nothing. The woman's gaze behind her ribbon seemed to fixate on Kaden.
She raised her hands lightly. "Ah, I see. Regardless, it's fine as long as there is some connection between us. Please remain still."
Once again, her voice took an eerie turn, twisting as every airy tone strummed in Kaden's listening ear.
"A fool you dress and will remain in all the histories you rewrite. A tragic first, an empty second—will the third slip through your fingers as you attempt to grasp it? Will the next ending teach you how to satisfy your tale?"
Kaden's lips parted slightly and he wondered, "Who are you?"
"I am merely a hired performance with a lacking pay. I'm simply reading a script."
"A script that exclusively reads us?"
A smile forms on the dark lips. "A script that reminds you. That there's little time left to change."
"Change myself? Or the future?"
She went as still as a statue, her head slowly trailing down the length of Kaden's body, seeming to read every negative thought, every self-hating idea. "For you, the former seems more important than the latter."
Niklas grinned widely, taking two skips closer to high-five the woman who raised her hands gracefully as they connected. "You couldn't have worded it better! Is there anything else in that script of yours that calls him foolish in several different languages?"
"I'm afraid not. I do not get paid enough to speak out of my script."
"Your employer must be poor, is that right?"
"The poorest." she spat.
Kaden was still muling over her words while Niklas exchanged words with the woman. He'd thought of something for a while now.
How easy some things felt.
Perhaps easy wasn't the right word. He lifted his head. "Did you mean it? What I must focus on isn't the future, but myself?"
The woman stared back, ebony hair fluttering around her. "Hasn't your future already changed? If it has, then there is only one thing left you must alter."
Kaden lowered his gaze to the ground, to the blades of grass messily stacked beside one another, stretching over the grounds among clusters of dirt. The future had changed greatly, due to Kaden's actions.
However, it felt too simple. That his mere actions had changed so much in his current present.
Changing himself was the priority.
He didn't understand. Did that imply that should he change himself, the future would fall into place naturally? That there was another force working for a happy ending in a place that didn't need his interference?
That was unlikely. For one, he didn't understand why he took her words with such solemness. Was it the stress of everything collapsing at once, the possibility of everything spiraling downhill?
Was it because that little girl's burning gaze haunted his dreams?
The woman sighed, walking to him with such grace, she almost appeared to be floating. She raised her hands, an inked shackle around both wrists and clapped it once.
"Do not over think it. I am only following a script. More than the words others preach, follow what you know. What you believe, and the result can only be what you've achieved."
"And if what I believe is wrong?"
"Then it's wrong. You are lucky, perhaps even at failure, you'll be granted another chance. Nevertheless, keep walking. Keep moving. Do not falter, do not fear."
The firm words spoken in the woman's soft voice formed such a compelling contrast, he was forced to listen. He was over thinking again, doubting himself, doubting everything.
He was changing, inevitably, undoubtedly. He was no longer that killer in the dark, no longer simply the royal family's loyal dog.
To change himself he needed to stop doubting what he needed to do.
Wasn't there some irony in that?
He bowed his head lightly to the woman who turned, returning to her position at the entrance. She lifted her slender arms to the pitch black entrance. "Please enter."
The group wandered into the tent as a light shone down on the center stage, casting a dim brightness near the middle. The many rows were sparse, every participant cautiously glancing at each other.
The four took to a secluded area, where few surrounded. They had safety in numbers, but people were also more weary due to their group. Kaden and Niklas seemed to share a wavelength at that second, noticing the attention.
The Misfits of Obscurity.
They were not to remain in the shadows, unknown.
Both took a confident stature, Niklas prowling down the rows with a slight strut to his step, smiling lazily at all those who turned to look over. He even wagged his fingers at a masked woman, blowing a kiss.
Through the bone mask, Kaden's steps were smooth and elegant, but despite the fool's outfit that made him appear silly, his eyes grazed the observers coldly, a depth of madness hidden in the green gaze, darkened by shadows.
Noah and Nicola didn't have to pretend or to act for them to be noticed, not as bystanders, but people with power. Nicola, who walked slowly but steadily, decked as a noble and reliable knight. A beautiful smile graced her lips.
Noah followed closely behind Kaden like a loyal dog, pitch black eyes empty and expressionless as they stared at the figure ahead, indifferent to those surrounding. As if anything that wasn't reflected in his steely gaze was insignificant.
They took their seats, and as they lowered themselves, the center lights flickered on and off. Sparks danced in the air and the torches around the circle were lit by flames.
Burning orange, they danced and seemed to have a life of their own, the wisping flames stretching further towards the center. They spun, faster and faster, and Kaden felt a sweltering heat.
The flames raced against one another, spinning higher into the air as a small tornado spun. The lights turned off, and the tornado reached unimaginable heights.
In the next second, the lights flickered back on and the fire dashed away, revealing a standing figure, one hand held behind his back as the other welcomed them.
"This meeting will have a different form, my dear patrons, exclusively selected."
They stretched their arms out widely with the same arrogance as the Organizer, the same strange features that seemed to be an arrangement of different peoples' faces. Kaden leaned slightly forward, frowning.
For some reason, he felt as if that wasn't the same man he met.
The man's voice bellowed across the room, not lost in the expanse of the tent.
"The actors tonight are yourself, so come take upon the stage and sell your desires! You all who have been chosen, picked for your nature and talents!"
Noah and Kaden shared a look. The one who had been chosen, who invited them, was Niklas. However, they passed the strange test by the blindfolded woman, and were allowed entry.
A voice from the audience yelled out impatiently, "We have to perform?"
A wicked grin took to the Organizer's mouth, stretched thin. "Tonight, it's all about the performance! Delight in debauchery! This performance is exclusive to those who know how to act! You are judge to my meaning, to your performance!"
Kaden hears movement a few rows behind him, even further into the shadows. There was a hiss, and something slid against the ground, thumping lightly.
As the figure passed his seat, he stared at a woman, her face hidden by hair.
The slithering sound was closer, now.
He looked down, and his breath caught. Instead of legs or the hem of a skirt, a thick tail dragged along the ground. The body of a serpent, leaving a slimy trail along the ground.
Her hair fell in rows like seaweed, cascading behind a bare back.
The limits of what he knew, what he read were only enforced in this moment. The shapes that living could take, far beyond his imagination.
She took to the stage, dismissive of the gasps or whispers, and slowly turned.
Her hideous face transformed with a sneer.