11. Wonderland (33)
11. Wonderland (33)
The 'Falcon's Nest' was renowned as the tallest structure in all of Wonderland.
A theater in Wonderland fundamentally reflected the stage where its owner had performed during their life, so a building's size or artistry wasn't always proportional to its owner's fame. Yet the Falcon's Nest earned its reputation for sheer wonder on its facade alone.
Among open-air theaters, the Falcon's Nest had a uniquely distinctive structure. Its overall shape resembled a bamboo stalk split lengthwise in half, its convex face buried into the cliff wall.
Audience members sat in a ring of seats carved into the cliff face, where they could feel the wind that had climbed thousands of meters up the slope brush past their eyes.
"No throwing paper airplanes. You could cut someone in the row above."
At the staff member's warning, Ella shot her an awkward glance and stopped folding her ticket stub into origami.
The building was tall, yes, but its location was equally unmatched. It sat at the very top tier of the spiral theater district encircling Cadsun. From the audience seats, the whole of Cadsun lay spread below. The view alone justified the price of admission.
The Falcon's Nest, long beloved by residents and tourists alike as Wonderland's premier scenic overlook, had been shuttered for some time. Its owner had been quietly preparing for retirement.
Today marked his final performance before that retirement. The theater's owner had invited all the residents he had come to know over the years to his last show. Thanks to them, the Falcon's Nest bustled with an audience for the first time in ages.
Skreeee.
A sharp, piercing raptor's cry echoed across the half-cylindrical seating.
The eyes of the spectators admiring the view below the cliff converged on the stage floating at the center.
The stage itself was nothing more than a massive log suspended by iron chains — shaped much like a bird's perch.
A man alighted onto it with a featherlight step.
He was the acrobat who owned the Falcon's Nest.
He had discarded the butterfly mask he wore during patrol duty and now donned a falcon mask with a sharp beak. His uniform had likewise changed: no longer the Guard Corps standard-issue, but the brilliant feathered bird's wings he wore for performances.
He offered a brief greeting to the audience and spread both wings, standing upon the perch.
"I hope you enjoy my final acrobatics."
Boom. Boom.
The drummer standing in the corner swung his mallets. He struck the great drums, heightening the atmosphere.
Boom. Boom. Ba-boom. Boom. Boom.
The winged acrobat drew a deep breath — then hurled himself straight off the perch.
His body plummeted down the cliff face.
"Kyaaah! H-he really jumped!"
"Keep calm!"
"Whoa, so this is what they always talked about...!"
He had shot down like an arrow, but at a certain point he spread his wings wide. His body was yanked backward, caught the updraft climbing the cliff, and soared upward.
It didn't take long for him to rise back to the height he had jumped from. As he passed in front of the audience, he folded his wings around himself and spun through the air in a whirling flourish. A roar erupted from the seats.
"Waaaaaah!"
"Whew, that's something else!"
"The old fellow didn't die — he didn't die!"
-Krrrr
-Heeheehee
The Kikling who had gathered unnoticed burst into laughter as well.
He rode the wind like that, soaring through the air and displaying his artistry for thirty minutes.
Scarecrow watched him bank and wheel just above the spectators' heads and couldn't suppress a murmur of admiration. A real falcon couldn't fly like that.
Ella spent the entire performance shouting and bouncing in place. Rumi observed his show with keen interest — a fellow flying acrobat herself.
When the performance ended, he circled through the audience to greet his guests. Only a few days remained until his extinction. Each person, believing this meeting to be their last, exchanged farewells.
By the time he reached Scarecrow's party, most of the spectators had already filtered out of the venue.
"Ah, it's you. Thank you for coming."
The moment he stood before them, Ella — who had been fidgeting impatiently, desperate to speak to him — cut in.
"You're Chen Hawk, right?"
At her words, an expression that was both nostalgic and foreign flickered across his face.
"That name. It's been a long time. Around here, they usually call me Director Hawk. You were the young lady who cheered so fervently throughout the show, weren't you? You made an impression."
"Hehe, oh, it was nothing."
Chen Hawk.
Ella had chattered so incessantly about him before he arrived that Scarecrow had learned all the details.
Chen Hawk was an acrobat born of the Highland Tribe of the Sierra Madre. Strictly speaking, he was closer to a warrior caste than a mere performer.
But as the age of industry and trade dawned, the warrior caste in remote tribes lost its purpose. So they had taken their tribe's secret flight technique and performed flying acrobatics through the mountain ranges for travelers visiting the Sierra Madre, elevating their tribe's prestige.
Among all the Highland Tribe's flying acrobats, Chen Hawk had been the most famous.
Ella mentioned she had once seen the falcon mask he wore in a textbook.
"I know I was called by such a name. But I'd prefer you didn't ask about the life I lived. Haha, to be frank, I can't remember a thing."
"Oh, was that a rude question? I'm sorry. I haven't been here very long."
"It's fine. Plenty of people, even long dead, still obsess over the stories of when they were alive. That aside... Is this child, by any chance, the family member you mentioned?"
Hawk remembered that Scarecrow had wandered the outskirts trying to retrieve the spirit of a deceased family member.
Scarecrow shook his head quickly, feigning heartache.
"No. The family member... I couldn't find them. This child is simply... a friend."
"Is that so? A pity. Just because the bonds of life were strong doesn't mean you can summon someone here at will. Luck and timing must align."
Chen Hawk offered him several pieces of advice on the methods for calling a loved one's spirit. His long patrol duty had evidently made him well-versed in such matters.
Honestly, it had nothing whatsoever to do with him, but Scarecrow feigned attentive interest, nodding along. Eventually, he steered the conversation to its intended point.
"You want to perform in my theater?"
"Yes. We need to stage a performance urgently in the coming days, and finding a theater hasn't been easy."
He embellished their circumstances just enough to present their case. Unfortunately, Hawk seemed not to have heard of their stage from the Duet Song Festival. He shrugged it off without concern.
"You didn't place? Eh, it doesn't matter. I've only got a few days left myself — I'd be happy if my juniors put the theater to use. But do you have a performance suited for this venue? As you can see, it's an awfully difficult structure for anyone who isn't a flying acrobat like me."
They had finished surveying the Falcon's Nest the day before.
Rumi demonstrated the specialty she had prepared in advance: the Fairy's Wings. Watching Ella fly through the sky on four dragonfly wings, Chen Hawk let out an exclamation of wonder.
"Magnificent! I've always been curious about fairy flight magic... How many can you create at most?"
"Just one right now. But once I'm granted stage authorization, I can create up to ten within the theater."
"Haha, I'd love to fly alongside you. I can't very well refuse permission now. So, what's the content of your performance, if I may ask?"
Ella took over the explanation.
She recounted the plot of the script they had hammered out over yesterday and today.
"There's a country where birds live. A young, wealthy peacock throws a ball to find a wife, and five princess birds arrive — that's the story."
The keywords meant to communicate with their scattered comrades had been chosen with care.
They didn't know what the three captured members might have spilled under interrogation. They couldn't use material from <The Five Acrobats> directly, nor the circumstances of their gathering. Instead, Ella had cleverly altered the details.
Making the protagonist a peacock was a coded nod to Duke Slagbort, who had summoned them all in the first place.
Hawk listened to the first half of her outline and nodded with great satisfaction.
"Excellent! Birds — I like the theme. You'll fly with the Fairy's Wings and layer bird costumes on top of that? I'm dying to know how it continues. Haha, I may have to delay my extinction by a few days. Vanishing without seeing this performance would be too regrettable."
Hawk gave them a thorough explanation of how to operate the stage equipment and the structural quirks of the theater.
"I'll enter a deep sleep. If I stay awake, my Spirit Body scatters faster, you see. Sleeping should delay extinction a little longer. So, I'll wake up in about three days. Prepare well. I'll be looking forward to it."
The three saw him off to his rest, then exchanged wry smiles.
Their plan, once all their comrades assembled, was to immediately rescue the three troupe leaders and escape this place. They had ended up deceiving a man with barely any time left before he faded — unintentionally, but still.
"If it comes down to it, we'll just show him <The Five Acrobats> before we go. 'The living's talents are more impressive than a winged performance' and all that?"
Ella said that, then called for Ticketer to begin preparing to list the performance under the theater proxy's authority. When she registered the performance description, auto-recommended tags popped up.
"No, remove the harem tag. This is a story about connecting with one single pigeon princess."
Scarecrow studied the tags she registered one by one. Some were predictable, others he had never seen before. Then his eye caught the keyword currently being entered.
"The protagonist peacock's name is 'John Zalstein.' Was this also a keyword your friends shared, Miss Elphi? Whose name is it?"
At his question, Ella flinched, her shoulders jumping, and she forced an awkward smile.
"Ah, well, th-that's, um, a pretty famous magician from the living world! It came up while we were talking at night. We're all fans, you see..."
Scarecrow nodded as if that made sense — then noticed Rumi beside him struggling to suppress a laugh.
"What's wrong?"
Rumi glanced sidelong at Ella and whispered.
"You don't get it?"
"Get what?"
"Take the hero's first and last name. Put them together."
Scarecrow followed her instruction, and moments later, he was seized by an urge to bury his face in his hands. Beside him, Rumi giggled quietly.
At that moment, Ticketer, who had been drafting the 'New Tag' entry, spoke in an indifferent tone.
"The keyword 'John Zalstein' is already registered. I will classify it under existing tags."
All three turned to stare at him, startled.
"Wha — wait, it's registered? Where?"
"That location is... Ah, two admission tickets have just been sold."
"What?"
At that instant, a flash of light flared from the theater entrance — the telltale sign of the admission ticket's fast-travel function activating.