15. Frankenstein's Successor (7)
The modern circus began with capturing rare creatures and putting them on display. At first, it was limited to showcasing animals with unusual appearances, but eventually, to stay competitive, they started teaching animals tricks or exhibiting fairies, demons, and even people as spectacles.
That was exactly the circus the old men remembered from their childhoods.
"In my hometown, the 'Flying Baby Elephant' was famous. Later I was shocked to find out they'd been replacing that elephant with a new one every year."
"I loved 'Fairy Fights.' Poured every bit of my allowance into betting and lost it all. The ones I bet on would rack up win after win, and then, wouldn't you know it, lose spectacularly the very next round."
"Ah, Fairy Fights. A nostalgic name. They've mostly disappeared these days, considered too savage. Same with monster circuses... To be honest, back in our day, half of them were monster circuses. I remember how we'd jeer when they kept showing off 'the strange ones' too late, stuffing clowns and ordinary acrobats in between."
"Ha ha, honestly, before the Troupe Leader dragged me out into the world, I thought all circuses were like that too. Well, it's true that we ended up in a monster circus, but things have certainly changed a lot since we were kids."
Carlson, Bartel, Gaston, Sven. The four elderly members of the Monster Circus walked down the street, reminiscing about their youth. Scenes you'd be hard-pressed to find in today's festivals flowed freely from their lips, as cheerful as fond memories themselves.
Pitting animals against each other in fights. Comedy shows that dragged out slaves of other races to mock and humiliate them. There was certainly a savage edge to it by modern standards, but it was equally true that they had enjoyed watching those things as children.
"Ever see a Reptilian Amputation Show?"
"Ah, that! Snake-oil peddlers used it all the time, showing off tails getting chopped off and growing back!"
"Heh. An old man I knew guzzled the stuff trying to get his own equipment back in working order and probably went straight to an early grave."
"Ha ha! Now that you mention it, I seem to recall trying to use it to restore my muscles when they were dissolving away!"
"Bwa ha ha! And since a skeleton just confirmed it, that was definitely counterfeit medicine! Stick to potions certified genuine by the Alchemy Guild, I tell you!"
Their conversation, weaving life's bitterness into mirth with practiced ease, had the familiar rhythm of old-timers who had seen everything worth seeing — and plenty not worth seeing. When it was just Gaston and Sven, such talks never happened. Gaston had never given much thought to the circus as a concept.
But after Carlson and Bartel, who were around the same age, had joined, and after Gaston himself had spent several months in the troupe, the atmosphere had softened considerably. Each had spent his whole life in a different field, but bound together by the theme of the circus, they found they had plenty to talk about.
In the midst of their animated chatter, the old men suddenly remembered the young woman walking along behind them. She was the only member who had chosen to spend this free time with the old-timers.
"Ha ha, Miss Clara, are you sure you don't want to go elsewhere? Isn't it dull keeping company with old fossils like us?"
At a festival, what the old men sought out were somewhat antiquated acts. They preferred things that evoked old memories over novel, innovative feats. For someone like Clara, who had trained in cutting-edge acrobatics at a place like Rekachev, this was likely to be boring. But she shook her head, beaming.
"Not at all! I really enjoy watching what you all like! I think our tastes match pretty well."
At her cheerful answer, warm smiles spread across the old men's faces. It wasn't as if they could possibly be displeased to have Clara along.
Whenever they showed interest in something, she promptly explained what it was. As befitting the top student of a circus school, she was versed in practically every kind of acrobatics. And even aside from that, watching a girl young enough to be their granddaughter chatter away lifted their spirits, making them feel as if they were out and about with a grandchild.
"Miss Clara, if there's anything you'd like to eat, just say the word. We old-timers will buy you whatever you want."
"Wow! Really? Thank you!"
Before long, her arms were full of snacks the grandfathers had insisted on pressing upon her.
"Mmm, this is really delicious!"
The four of them watched with fond expressions as she stuffed her cheeks full and chewed happily.
"You'll give yourself indigestion, you little rascal."
"Take your time eating. We'll buy you as much more as you like."
"Ehehe, are you sure you gentlemen don't want any?"
"Our stomachs are too delicate. Anything that spicy will give us trouble."
Clara felt she'd made the right choice tagging along with the old men. Her allowance had dwindled sharply of late, and she'd grown self-conscious about even buying a single snack.
Of course, she hadn't followed them just for the freebies. Her tastes genuinely did align well with the old men's. Perhaps it came from having spent so many years pretending to be an old man herself.
Ursus. She didn't know the exact relationship between that old man she had impersonated and the Troupe Leader. Even the authority of Sinepekus, which collected the whispers of the world, struggled to exert power over three categories of beings.
Those who, at birth, were never given a name.
Apostles of other Demon Gods.
And priests of cardinal rank or higher.
The Troupe Leader's case was most likely the second.
***
As long as a fairy retains her wings, she retains a childlike heart. A fairy's ability to forget yesterday's hardships and throw herself entirely into today's pleasures is thanks entirely to her wings.
The reason Lumion's memories from before the age of thirty were hazy was because that period counted as her "childhood." It was similar to how a human struggles to remember events from before the age of ten.
But the life she had lived was too brutal to forget completely, as other fairies might. Over thirty years ago, she had come out to the continent for a visit and been seized by a band of humans.
Originally, fairies could freely travel between the Spirit World and the Material Plane using their wings. But the moment she inhaled the drug they scattered, the strength drained from her wings. She couldn't even form illusions properly.
Tossed into a cage, she was sold off as a pet to some noble household. The noble gave her to his daughter as a gift.
The noble's daughter used her as an accessory to show off at social gatherings. But "social gatherings" were, in practice, a playground for children's cruel pranks, childish and vicious in equal measure.
Much as commoner children might tear the legs off frogs or stage cricket fights.
They fed her spicy things and admired her runny nose and streaming tears. They snapped her arms and legs with thumb-flicks. Tossed her a fork and made her fight a vicious cat.
All the same, she had been lucky. Many of her kin became test subjects for mages, preserved in jars or dissected.
After enduring years of such torment, she barely managed to escape the manor and joined a circus troupe. There, she met a young gardener, and he became the first friend she had ever made in the human world.
His name was Leonardo Rendelin. Maya's father.
"That should explain things a little, I suppose."
Rumi had asked to see Wonderstein so that he could repay the debt from the last trial. She had helped the Monster Circus pass the test at Rekachev.
Her invitation had arrived just as they were deciding to head for Kaldir. Without her help, they would likely have failed that test. Wonderstein couldn't refuse her request.
"So what is it you want me to do?"
"I'll explain as I show you."
Arno led him outside the tent. Passing through the busy grounds where members of the seven troupes dashed about, the two arrived at a warehouse set up behind the stage. Inside, thousands upon tens of thousands of sky lanterns, each the size of a human head, sat in storage.
"These are?"
"At the Amur region's New Year festival, people write their New Year's wishes on lanterns, light them, and release them into the sky."
Arno's tone was cold and rigid. There were too many people coming and going around them. He was playing the part of a human mage in his fifties to the hilt.
"Back when I still had my wings, I used to fly among the lanterns at this festival a few times."
He looked around at the stacked lanterns, his voice wistful.
"But now, that's no longer possible."
The moment she lost her childlike heart, her wings had fallen away. Her body had also grown from the size of a palm to roughly that of a human child.
"Don't you have the 'Fairy's Wings' illusion?"
Wonderstein recalled Arno's signature illusion magic. It gave a person the experience of flight by attaching fairy-like wings to their back. He, too, had experienced it once in Wonderland.
"I cannot 'imagine' creating them on my own body."
For ordinary illusion mages, imagination was a crucial tool for creating illusions. An illusion could not be formed without the mind's active participation. Maya's case, sculpting illusions entirely through three-dimensional calculation, was exceptional.
"Why did it come to that?"
Arno hesitated briefly, then spoke. It was a story from her past. How she had come out to the continent, how she had met Maya's father, and how she had confessed her feelings to him only to be rejected — she summarized it all succinctly.
"That should explain the situation a little, I suppose."
A moment of silence passed between them. Had a gust of wind blown in? The warehouse door creaked once. Arno was still lost in the haze of memory and didn't notice the sound. Wonderstein briefly turned his head, confirmed there was no one there, and looked back at Arno.
"I see. So it's a psychological issue."
"It's my own fault, for loving someone I couldn't have."
"So your request..."
"Yes. I'd like you to lend me your body."
Wonderstein tilted his head at Arno's words.
"It doesn't necessarily have to be me, does it?"
"Ever since Leo broke my heart, I've lived hiding myself from the world."
Arno hesitated for a moment, then spoke, a note of shyness slipping into his voice.
"But not long ago, being held in your arms, I got to taste that sensation again, even if only briefly."
"That time, then."
Wonderstein remembered. He had held her and flown through the sky in Wonderland.
"It felt good, didn't it?"
"Yes. Intensely."
"I want to taste that feeling again."
"But that still doesn't answer my question. Why did you have to pick me?"
When he countered with a smile, Arno averted his gaze. Meeting that handsome face head-on made him feel as if he might make some kind of slip of the tongue.
"I simply don't want to increase the number of people who know my s-secret."
"Hmm, is that so? Very well. Then during the lantern event, the two of us will slip away and meet in secret to do it."
Arno nodded. Wanting to fly among the lanterns again wasn't simply because it had been enjoyable.
That was the last happy memory she had experienced before losing her wings. Memories from when she still had her wings were as hazy as those of childhood. But that final experience, just before losing them, stood clearer than the others.
Rumi, Leo, Luma.
The last moment that held the three of them together, happy. Just thinking about recreating it brought tears welling up in Rumi's eyes.
"Oh dear. What's this, already?"
"Wha-what did I do?"
Instead of answering, Wonderstein abruptly slipped his hand inside Arno's illusion. She could have used her ability to materialize illusions to repel him, but she didn't. She made a token show of resistance, then accepted his touch.
"Wh-What do you think you're doing?"
Wonderstein found the spot corresponding to her eyes and wiped her tears away. Then, gazing toward where her antennae would likely be, he spoke.
"Didn't I tell you once? I have the ability to sense biological changes. Even if I can't see it, I can feel this part of you twitching and fidgeting, and this part getting damp."
He stroked her head. Arno immediately shouted.
"What do you think you're doing! I'm more than twenty years your senior! Treat your elder with respect!"
"Heh heh, you're rather cute, despite your age."
"You insolent little—!"
Arno was about to drop his illusion and pounce on Wonderstein, but just then, workers entered the warehouse. He glared at his smirking adversary for a moment, then whirled and sprinted away out the front. Wonderstein chased after him, wearing a playful grin.
"Though, hearing you speak like a young girl in an older man's voice is the real issue. That was a bit creepy just now."
"I-It's because there's a risk of someone else hearing! A-And things just got dangerous back there, didn't they!"
The conversation the two had after leaving the warehouse wasn't audible to the people still inside. After the workers gathered their equipment and left, a moment later, the empty space in the corner of the warehouse rippled and squirmed. Two figures emerged.
Maya and Karen. The two of them had slipped inside earlier, using the creak of the wind-blown door as cover, and eavesdropped on the conversation. Naturally, they had coated their bodies in transparent paint, so they were invisible.
Their faces were drained white with shock. The words exchanged between the two men were the sort of things you'd expect between lovers who had been physically intimate. In particular, both of them had clearly witnessed Wonderstein suddenly thrust his hand inside Arno's trousers and toy with him with lewd hand movements at the end.
Karen suddenly recalled the time she had come to him for advice. He had told her there was nothing strange about feeling affection for someone of the same sex. But he'd also said not to jump to conclusions about her sexual identity, since it settled firmly only in adulthood.
In this era, the norm was to express contempt and revulsion toward same-sex love. Yet back then, he had listened to her worries with such an unnaturally benevolent attitude.
His bizarrely kind demeanor now made sense. He, too, was someone who felt love for the same sex.
'But... what is this! If this is how things are... what about Maya's feelings!'
Karen squeezed her eyes shut. She had no idea how to comfort her friend, who had frozen solid from the shock.