I’m used to being the strong one.  The reliable one.  I’m clever enough, but not as educated as Bardoul or cunning as Calista, he thought, the images of his older brother and youngest sister flashing through his mind.  Ulva was always the best hunter of the five of us, which you wouldn’t think to see her in human form.  She’s no good in a fight against something with sharp teeth and claws, and the brains to strategize, but she could tear out a deer’s throat faster than looking at the Goddess Eye makes you sneeze, he thought, smiling as he remembered his older sister’s haughty attitude juxtaposed with her wolf form’s bloody face after a successful hunt.

Harou sighed deeply and leaned back on the bench he sat upon, and let the hand holding his purchased meat skewers (the vendor took gold, thankfully) sink to his lap.

Orfilia is the determined one of us, not giving up on finding a mate despite all the whining that she never would, he thought of his younger sister, with her flaming red hair and equally fiery spirit.  She and Ulva may be spoiled, but they still have their good qualities, and all three of my sisters found love and achieved their goals.  What have I done?  I became a soldier because I wasn’t good at much besides fighting, and I couldn’t be a troublemaker at home.  If I can’t fix my leg, what would I do?  I don’t want to teach spoiled rich boys how to use weapons they’ll only treat as toys for the rest of my life.  If I can’t be the strong one, the skilled fighter, the decorated soldier, then what’s left for me?

After he had rested a while, he checked his pocket watch.  It was nearly time for Brise’s show.  If Harou hurried, he could make it on time!  Alas, he didn’t really have it in him to hurry.  At least he wouldn’t miss the whole performance, and he’d still be there for Brise at the end.

Harou was a bit surprised to find that when he got there, the show had not yet started.  The line to get into the tent was still quite long.  As Harou limped towards the line, he was intercepted by a fae, specifically, a fairy.

The fairy was about as tall as a human head, with translucent wings that shimmered with iridescence like a bubble.  He wore a doll-sized acrobat leotard, and his long green hair was tied back in an elaborate fishtail braid.  Harou wondered idly whether a show of acrobatics from a fairy would actually be impressive, given both their small size and their wings removing the element of danger.  Then he remembered sylphs could fly, moving anywhere wind could go.  Brise didn’t do that during his show, to create the illusion of danger, but he could never fall.  Harou belatedly realized that was why the sylph couldn’t fake an injury from performing.  It wouldn’t be believable without a real injury.

The fairy snapped his fingers in Harou’s face, pulling the lycan’s attention from his own thoughts.

“Brise said you’re a VIP and sent me to get you before you got in line.  You’re later than I expected, so we have to hurry,” the fairy said, his voice a surprisingly normal pitch and volume given his size.

“I’ll try, but I’m not really one for hurrying these days,” Harou said wryly.

The fairy looked him up and down and turned and gave a sharp whistle.  Another fae zoomed over.  This one looked similar to the fairy, but she was half his size, despite clearly being an adult.  Her wings looked like dragonfly wings rather than butterfly wings, and they lacked that bubble-like glimmer to them.  She was a pixie, then.

“Maeve, pixie dust if you will,” the fairy said, gesturing at Harou.  The pixie nodded and turned to face the lycan.  She tossed a handful of glittery powder at Harou, who reflexively tried to duck to avoid it.  That did prevent it from getting in his face, but it merely settled on the top and back of his head instead.  The pixie snorted and rolled her eyes, then whirled and zoomed off.

“There,” the fairy said, “now you can float.  She didn’t give you enough to fly.  But at the very least it’ll take the weight off your leg.”

“Just think happy thoughts, right?” Harou quipped.  The fairy gave him a long-suffering look.

“If it helps you, sure.  Your feet will leave the ground on your will, happy or not.  If you think you can’t, you won’t, so just hurry up already!” the exasperated fairy waved his arms in frustration as he spoke.

Harou gave a sheepish chuckle and started walking forward to follow the fairy.  He didn’t have to try hard to believe he’d float; he had no reason to disbelieve such magic.  He was therefore unsurprised when he rose an extra head and shoulders above the crowd compared to what the already-tall lycan already stood.  What did surprise him was that it never felt like his feet weren’t on the ground, except that he felt no weight or pressure on his legs anymore.

He followed the fairy to one of the private boxes that sat above the grandstand where ‘regular’ guests sat.  Harou was surprised to see a whole lobby above them that sold special snacks and drinks that were much higher end than what was available in the rest of the circus.  Most of the items were still priced in silver or gold coins, though.  Only a few items on the menu displayed no price, and Harou was sure they were potions or enchanted food items of some sort.  He didn’t dare to find out.

Past the wood-paneled lobby was a curved hallway with a surprising number of doors along the far wall.  Each led to a private box.  The boxes were wood-paneled as well, but draped with velvet and tapestries.  The front of the box was open, with soft, padded chairs arranged before a low table.  Getting there required a step down.  Harou settled into one of the chairs and turned his attention to the stage.

The view from up in the box was interesting.  He realized the boxes were set more forward than it looked from below, and they were quite close to the stage.  He wouldn’t see what happened on the ground quite as easily, but he’d have a much better view of the aerial part of the act.

Harou avidly watched the ring below, wondering if the show would be the same.

Brise didn’t keep the audience waiting much longer.  The lights dimmed, and the crowd quieted from a roar to a murmur.  The sylph entered the darkened ring, illuminated by the glow of swirls and whorls intricately patterned across his skin.  Harou was a bit startled, but he did recall the sylph having those markings on his skin before, but very, very faintly.  Music began to swell from the orchestra pit, starting off soft and delicate.  It changed along with the sylph’s performance, loud and energetic when he moved quickly, and more quiet and gentle when his movement slowed.

The sylph began to dance, lit only by his own powers, not any torches or goblin fire.  His back arched and his legs extended as he rose up onto his toes and spun around.  It almost seemed as if his awareness of the audience vanished and he became lost in the music.  It guided him even as it followed his cues.  His arms curved back as he dipped forward low, then arched over his head as he rose and turned.  He leapt nimbly across the stage, spinning when he landed on one foot.  He danced an intricate and impressive ballet on the stage floor.  At moments, all that could be seen was a blur of light as he moved with unnatural speed.

The audience began to murmur as light began to flow down from above the ring.  A big ribbon, sparkling with a dim glow like that of pixie dust began to descend towards the floor in the center of the ring.  It glowed just enough to be visible, without shedding any light around it.