The streets were still lively at dusk, something Ezan took no shame in enjoying as he escaped his duties. Though he got several strange looks for his dark clothing amid the sea of bright colors, there was no fear.

Because the creatures of the night had no power when the deadly sun still shone in the sky.

At least, that was what the human population believed. They had no idea that the older and more powerful of demonkin were strong enough to walk under weak sunlight. If Ezan pushed it, he might even be able to stand under midday sun for an hour or two; he wasn’t willing to give up on a solid eight hours of sleep to test that theory. He could easily manage the few hours before the sun fell, when its rays were dusky and weak, tingling against his skin rather than hurting. It was almost a pleasant feeling, a reminder that even if he were halfway dead, he was still alive enough to feel.

Which was the reason why he was walking the city while it still bustled with human chaos. Those bright, burning candle flames gave off an irresistible air of energy, strong and uncontrollable emotion. Ezan was old enough to take some sustenance from that emotional energy. He found himself drawn to those with an emotional aura stronger than others; though it stoked his blood lust, he couldn’t resist finding them.

The street he travelled, unfortunately, seemed to be full of dismally normal people. Disgruntled, Ezan closed his eyes to drown out the buzz of human voices. It was hard, as it had been many decades since he had fed deeply enough to truly maintain such an effort, but he expanded his consciousness to search for the depth of emotion he wanted. He didn’t expect what he found, a blazing white light at the end of the street, such strong happiness spreading itself among the people who crowded around its source.

Ezan opened his eyes as he released the breath he had held on a heavy gush of air. He hadn’t found such emotional strength in a human for so many centuries that he almost didn’t believe it was possible. His feet moved before he could give them proper direction. They pulled him toward the bright spot of cheer, and he heard the bright laughter before he found the one he was searching for. There was a crowd gathered; Ezan gently pushed his way to the inner ring, eager to see his burning candle.

A man stood in the center of the crowd, and he was the one who exuded such strength. Dusty blonde hair feathered around a feminine face, brushing over grey eyes to half hide them from the world. He was small and slim in figure, dressed in a loose, patched together outfit of brightly colored rags- but his smile, sweet and inviting, made him seem larger than life. Ezan must have arrived soon after the man had; he swept into a bow, and began what seemed to be an introduction.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of District Three.” His voice washed over the audience, and Ezan glanced around in surprise as the tension of the group eased. When humans gathered in crowds, anger and tension rose the longer the group was maintained, but the blonde had managed to soothe them all with his low, sweet tones. “We approach the witching hours, where the demonkin wander the streets in eager search of prey to warm their night. The demonkin begin to stir at dusk, and their powers bleed into the city as they wake from the sun’s slumber.”

He could be a bard, if he were born in a different time, Ezan mused, a smile pulling at his lips as the crowd gave half fearful murmurs as the blonde no doubt wished for. It didn’t matter that his words were a lie, and the power of the demonkin didn’t spread unless it was an attack ending in death- the crowd gathered around him seemed all too happy to believe whatever he said.

“This strange phenomenon makes dusk a strange time for humans such as us. Most don’t notice the flow of power. But those who are lucky enough to be sensitive can feel it- or, is it unlucky enough?” His words woke laughter that time, the crowd acknowledging the aggressive fear which reared its head in return to anything associated with demonkin. “I can never tell, and I may never know, but I am one of those who- fortunate or not- can feel these energies. And more than that, I can play with them as a child would his favorite toy.

“Fear nothing, my friends, as I am no different than you. But allow me to delight you with the beauty which can be raised from the horrors of the demonkin.”

Horrors? Can’t say he’s wrong. Ezan’s smile grew, only to freeze in place when the blonde did as he’d boasted.

Sweet smile still firmly in place, softening the grey eyes which could have been cold- should have been cold, in the world he lived in- the blonde raised his hand. The crowd waited with bated breath as he closed his eyes and hummed. His captivating voice was melodic, even if the tune wasn’t one Ezan recognized. And as he hummed, light bloomed in his hand. Blooming was the most apt term, for as the light grew brighter, it spread across his hand, unfurling in the graceful drooping leaves and petals of a flower. It was beautiful, but no more so than the light in his eyes as he gave his hand a gentle upward push- and the flower exploded into butterflies which fluttered in the air around him.

The crowd cooed their approval, sounding awed as they watched the light filter around the pretty blonde. Ezan was the only silent one, watching wide-eyed and shocked. He hadn’t seen an enchanter in a very, very long time. They were extremely rare, and in the rare cases they were born, they didn’t show off their talents- because it always got them killed in the end. In one way or another, they died early. It was their curse, as one who rode the line between human and demonkin; he was human, Ezan could tell, but just as he’d claimed the blonde could manipulate the energy of the demonkin- it just happened to be his own.

The blonde’s melody changed, and that time it was recognizable; it was a tune which had been written long ago, when the human race went to war with demonkin. It had been a song of rebellion for humans as the overturned the demonkin who had enslaved them for generations. Ezan was impressed that the boy knew it; the crowd was more impressed with how the light of the butterflies had turned red. It was even more impressive when the enchanter began to dance. Wherever he had learned to move like that, Ezan wanted to thank and curse them at the same time; it was provocative, even as it called to his mind the memory of the violence of the war with the human race.

The awed murmurs faded to silence as the blonde danced, his song rising in volume. The creatures of light seemed to dance with him, wheeling in tight circles and at times seeming to dive bomb each other in ways that had members of the crowd gasping in dreadful anticipation. Even Ezan was leaning forward, eager to know how the macabre butterfly would dance.

The beautiful dance wound down slowly, with the blonde’s hum slowly fading to the soft, sweet melody Ezan didn’t recognize. The enchanter came out of a turn which had the brightly colored rags he wore furling out around him, his hands held up at either side of him, and the butterflies swarmed to his palms. They dissolved upon touching his skin, light dripping out along his fingers to hang in dazzling strands like lace. When all the butterflies were spun into silk along his hands, he brought them together in front of him. The dance of his fingers spun the light into a dazzling fountain which spun up into the air in front of his face, before collapsing back into his hands.

The blonde was grinning as he peeked up at his audience, and Ezan was sure he was the only one who noticed that smug pleasure; the rest of the crowd was too focused on his hands. Ezan felt privileged to have seen it. And the blonde noticed him, too, an expression of shock fading into a slightly sheepish smile before he tossed his hands upward. The light fractured and then shattered, falling around him in broken fragments like snow which winked out when they brushed the sidewalk just inches away from the crowd which had circled the enchanter.

The final display was met with a rush of awe, which turned into wild applause when the blonde bowed before his audience once more. Again, Ezan was the only silent one; he was dazed, reeling from the energy around him. He had already seen the blonde’s joy infecting the rest of the crowd, but this was stronger. Purer. He could see the halo of light around the young man as he grinned at his adoring audience. The light filtered over the crowd and would likely make their night hiding in fear from the demonkin much easier.

Ezan was drawn out of his shock when the blonde straightened, and used his foot to nudge forward a small glass container he doubted anybody had noticed before. “Thank you all for taking the time from your preparations for nightfall to witness my performance. If you would like to leave behind whatever small change you may carry in your pocket as thanks for being shown the beauty which can be found if we harness the energy of the demonkin, I would be most grateful.”

Smooth, Ezan thought, a wry smile quirking at his lips. He had made it sound like he was doing a favor by relieving them of the change in their pockets. To his surprise, the crowd was completely fooled by it. The jar was half full of spare change by the time the crowd had dispersed, the people who had been enthralled by the enchanter scurrying off to hide themselves for the night. It wasn’t long before Ezan was the only one left, standing with his arms crossed and watching the blonde collect his jar from the ground.

Their eyes met when the enchanter looked up again, and his sweet smile seemed showy and fake. “Still here? I’ll come back tomorrow, but it’s too late to do any more today,” he said, his smooth voice slightly strained as he drew the jar of money closer to his chest.

Ezan winced at that obvious display. “I’m not here to steal your earnings,” he sighed, letting his hands drop to his side in a more neutral position. It had the enchanter relaxing slightly, enough for Ezan to feel comfortable in speaking to him. “What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I…” The enchanter hesitated, looking torn as he nibbled on his lower lip. As if giving his name was a hard task. Depending on where his life had taken him before that point, though, it could very well be a dangerous question. “They call me Uzume.”

Ezan laughed, and it made the blonde jump, his blue-grey eyes gone wide with surprise. “After the Japanese goddess who cheered Amaterasu with her dancing? I suppose it’s apt. Your dance was beautiful, Uzume.”

Uzume smiled, a little shy, but it seemed more honest and open that those he had given while performing. “Thank you. Do I get to know your name, as well?”

Ezan simply shook his head; if he told the enchanter his name, it would be very clear who he was, and he wasn’t entirely sure of the young man’s stance on demonkin. He doubted it was positive considering he’d been humming a song of human rebellion. He strode forward, instead, pretending he didn’t notice the enchanter’s flinch. Ezan reached into his pocket, drawing out his wallet and leafing through it for a few bills which made the enchanter’s eyes go hugely wide in his pale face as Ezan offered them out.

“Th-that’s too much,” Uzume protested, turning away slightly to keep Ezan from adding the money to his jar.

The man smiled in response, warm and kind. “Take it, please. I won’t offer you more money, though I plan on coming to see you again. Think of it as a gift- I hardly enjoy myself anymore, but your dance was enough to make my night a pleasant one.”

Uzume’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he looked away. His face was flushed a soft pink as his posture eased and he allowed Ezan to stuff the money into his jar. “Thank you,” he murmured without looking up.

“Do you perform every night?”

“When I have the energy to do it.” The answer was vague, and Uzume looked more determined to avoid eye contact than ever.

The enchanter’s behavior had Ezan dropping the line of questioning, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. “I see. Then I’ll have to check every night, or I might miss you.”

“What?” It was almost a yelp, though Uzume visibly forced himself to calm soon after. “I meant to say… I am flattered. I hope you enjoy my dancing in the future, as well.”

“I can almost guarantee I will. Thank you for dancing for us, Uzume. I will see you the next time you perform.” The words were matched with a genuine smile, before Ezan turned his back on the blushing boy. It was almost nightfall, and it was time for the enchanter to find a place to spend the night. Ezan would survive- the demonkin were the only ones who could survive the night. No matter how many times he wished it weren’t true. At the least, he had something to look forward to, now, to ease him through the long nights. Because Ezan’s words had been a promise, one he fully intended to keep.

One he would keep, for several months, before fate thew a wrench in his plans to silently watch the dazzling street performer- because destiny had other plans.