Chapter Text
The day began like any other for Pomni: wake up with the dawn, set up in the town square by the fountain, set her hat upside down on the cobblestone, and begin strumming her lute. The music she routinely played on quiet mornings was gentle, like the songbirds whistling in the rooftops. By noon, she was full on singing and dancing around the fountain. Crowds did not show all the time, but gold, silver and copper coins came nonetheless.
It was a simple living, for the bard. She would stay in a town for a few days, sing and tell stories while collecting some from townsfolk, and then move onto the next destination. This had been the way she had done work for years now.
Yet, as the cheers of the crowd that had gathered filled her ears, coins filled her empty hat, and she bowed as low as she could, legs crossed, Pomni wondered if she was truly happy. Satisfied, sure; she never went hungry, and always had company in one shape or form. She made people smile, and she did what she loved: music. It was more than enough for any one person.
Happiness, though, was harder for her to decide whether she had or not. While she did have company in towns, her travels were done alone most of the time. She made acquaintances, but they were only faces she knew she could return to on her travels. She wrote music and sang songs, telling stories of the memories of people she met, but she never told anyone her own stories.
Pomni felt like nothing in her life was worth discussing.
She held out her hat and thanked the stragglers of that afternoon, as they dumped the last few coins into it. She waved goodbye to a few children before sighing and sitting down on the edge of the fountain, staring at her full hat.
There was a pop sound in the air, but Pomni ignored it. It only signaled the arrival of her travel companion—if one could call him that. A little fairy-like creature, with a jaw full of teeth as both its head and mouth, and two round eyes sitting inside the chops, one blue and the other green. He performed a flip in midair before tipping his top hat to the bard. “Another phenomenal day, my dear Jester Bard Pomni,” he spoke, a deep, jolly voice emanating from invisible vocal chords. “Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised. You seem to enthrall everyone, everywhere you go.”
Pomni scoffed as she poured her earnings into a brown bag. “I get hacklers too,” she said. “This town is just known for being one of the most generous in the country.” She tied the now filled sack, and then tossed her had back onto her head. “I’m running out of material to work with, though,” she added with a sigh. “With the virus spreading so aggressively, it’s hard to get any good stories nowadays.”
“Maybe change your focus. Try adding a bit of… suspense to your songs.”
“I am not writing horror stories, Caine. No matter how much you want me to.” Pomni slung her shoulder bag over her shoulders and then picked up her lute. “People want funny and happy songs. Songs that will make them feel better in these terrifying times.” She looked at the little dapper entity, who dressed as spiffy as the people in the Capital. “Songs of Horror will just drive the people away, and leave me hungry.”
Caine shrugged before adjusting his tie. “Suit yourself,” he said, floating up to Pomni’s hat and sitting on it. He crossed his legs over the edge of the muffin cap, as the bard began heading in a direction. “But if you ever need inspiration, I’m your entity.”
Pomni rolled her eyes with a smile. Caine had been her companion—or shoulder demon felt more appropriate—for a little over a year by that point. On one of her travels between towns, she found an odd-looking coin. It was silver, but larger than even platinum pieces. It had a blueish sheen to it, when she held it up to the moonlight, with many finely etched circuit lines that ran through from one side to the other. She decided to keep the coin, hoping to exchange it for money in the next town, until it glowed red and out of nowhere a tiny strange creature with the head of a mouth of teeth and the body of a small dapper man popped into existence. It gave her the scare of the century, but without much explanation on how he got where he was, Caine introduced himself and said that he liked her aura. Therefore, he would accompany her on her travels.
Caine was an enigma, one of chaos, if anyone was asking for Pomni’s opinion. He filled with glee when something suspenseful occurred, and giggled when fights broke out at pubs. Yet, he had strong opinions about the greed of people. He tried coaxing Pomni to do things she did not deem honest, and yet praised her when she performed music, sang or made someone smile by doing a good deed. He loved horror, but had the wonder of a child in his eyes when he saw flowers sway in the summer breeze or snow glisten on the ground on a crystal-clear night. No fey researcher could tell Pomni exactly what he was, or where he could have come from. Only that he was connected to the coin she found, and he had somehow taken an extreme liking to her.
He annoyed her on the worst of days, but Pomni was still grateful for his company, especially on the lonelier nights.
Caine hummed one of Pomni’s songs as she made her way through the evening streets, heading towards the stables. She looked around, searching for her best friend. She knew he was arriving that afternoon, and after several weeks of not seeing each other, she was excited to be in the same town as him once more.
His steed was noticeable. It was a ginger horse with trails of natural pink hair in its mane—a signature feature from his homeland. His two teammates had similar-looking horses as well, though of varying types.
When the familiar smell of maple syrup reached her nose, above all the other usual stable smells, Pomni grinned and rushed forward, much to Caine’s surprise. She brushed by one person after another, farmers returning from work, travelers or other adventurers, until she had reached the stall she had been searching for. The stable boys were already tying the horse up for the night and getting her food and water, by the time Pomni skidded to a stop nearby. “You said you’d be here an hour ago,” she said, but the smile on her lips gave away her true excitement.
The rider chuckled as he descended from his steed. “You weren’t the one wrestlin’ with the beasties, Mate,” he said, his Australian burr making Pomni dance in place. He pushed back his cowboy hat and turned to face his best friend, straightening his cloak as he did. He smiled, jagged as it was, but that was to be expected from a crocodile. “How much did you miss me this time?” he said.
Pomni giggled and leaped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck as he laughed and hugged her back. “This much!” she exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you, Gummigoo.”
“I missed you too, Pomni,” the adventurer replied.
*****
Gummigoo had been Pomni’s best friend since before she had become a bard and he an adventurer. They promised to stay in touch, and get together when their paths crossed. They sent letters to each other when carrier pigeons were available, and shared stories when they met up. Normally, they took a few days off in order to catch up, but lately, with the Virus infecting more and covering more territory, Gummigoo and his team had been picking up more missions of tracking Abstractions—infected people—down and marking the range of their Zones of Wandering. It was a dangerous job, but one Gummigoo was proud to take on in order to keep people safe.
It made their time together precious.
“So there I was, trackin’ this monster into the valley,” the adventurer said, retelling his most recent mission at dinner that evening, “When out of nowhere, another three came chargin’ through the thicket, headin’ straight for us!” He made wide gestures with his arms and hands, as Pomni ate her food and watched him. “We split up, and I lure the beasties to the river, cuz I knew they couldn’t swim—they weigh too much.” He took a bite of his steak and continued: “I leaped off my steed and dove into the water, an’ the boys felled a tree large enough to knock ‘em all into the water after me, while they were watching me from the shoreline.” He crossed his arms and raised his chin, beaming. “An’ that’s how I sent ‘em down the rapids. Thankfully, I’m a good swimmer, so I had no problem getting to shore after that.”
Pomni shook her head with a chuckle. “But what about tracking their Zone of Wandering?” she said.
“Eh; losin’ one group of ‘em isn’t the end of the world.” Gummigoo held up another piece of meat. “We managed to get a dozen the day before, so I think we did our money’s worth.” He stuffed the food into his mouth.
Pomni watched him chew happily while playing with the last of her vegetables. “I hate thinking how dangerous your missions have been getting,” she said, placing a hand against her cheek. “Every night, I’m worried I’ll wake up and learn that you got killed, or worse; infected.”
“You worry too much about me, Pomni,” her friend replied. “You know I’m a good fighter. And I’ve saved several more people before this.”
“But we’re talking about Abstractions, Gummi,” Pomni pointed out. “There’s no cure for it, and no way to properly kill them either. Your lucky streak can’t keep going on forever, can it?”
Gummigoo slowly put his glass down and looked on, as the bard stared across the restaurant they were eating at. Most customers were happy, discussing other matters or laughing at a joke a companion said.
“People have told me about losing someone to the Virus,” Pomni continued. “The more I travel, the more I can tell the difference between those who have been affected, and those who are blissfully unaware of the dangers lurking outside the town walls.” She stabbed her fork into her beans and held them up, studying them. “I hate to think I might be one of the ones affected by this whole ordeal,” she added in a hushed tone.
Her friend cleared his throat. “Your songs, your music,” he said, voice gentle, “They make people smile. They make them feel safe, during the hard times.” He waited for Pomni to look at him before placing a hand on his chest. “My duty as an adventurer is to make sure they’re safe when they can’t hear your music. We both have roles to play. You wouldn’t want me to tell you to stop playin’ music, right?”
Pomni sighed and sunk into her seat. “I dunno,” she grumbled. “I love making music, but… I don’t feel happy with how my life is going.” She looked at her now empty plate. “I feel like I’m missing something to my repertoire.”
“Why not change it up then?” Gummigoo tapped his chin. “How’s about… a song of Abstractions, terrorizing a village?”
“What is it with you and Caine and horror?” the bard scoffed, glaring at the crocodile.
“He’s got good taste, eh?”
“I should smack you both over the head with my lute.”
Gummigoo snickered and raised his glass to his lips. “Lighten up a bit, Bugger; my point is, I enjoy being and adventurer. We both already know the risks of bein’ in my line of work—that’s why you refuse to join me. I want to keep people safe, and I will, whether the dangers are real or not. You respect that, right?”
Pomni looked up at him.
“Aye, you do. Now peel yourself up off the tabletop, before you stick to it like glue.”
She snorted at that and pulled herself back upright. “Sorry I overthink things,” she said.
“Just a tad,” Gummigoo replied, measuring the air between his fingers while winking at her. “But that’s one of the things I like about you. If one of us isn’t doin’ the worryin’, then we’re both in for a rough time.”
She giggled at his words before raising her own glass to her lips. “Tell me about a successful mission, now,” she said.
“Oi! That hurt.” Yet, he complied. As Gummigoo threw himself into another story, Pomni smiled and watched him attentively. Seeing as she knew their time would be short, she pushed her worry aside and listened to another one of his heroics. Hearing what he had been up to made it seem like no time had passed between their visits. It also made her routinely life more interesting.
He was deep into a rescue tale, when Pomni overheard someone at the table next to theirs mutter about a passing adventure team. She was ready to ignore them when she heard the all too familiar name escape their lips: The Traveling Circus.
Pomni sat up straight, and the sudden shift made Gummigoo stop his storytelling. He stared at her in confusion, and Pomni ignored his questioning look as she pushed back from her chair and leaned against the window to peak outside the restaurant.
The sun had set by then, but the sky was still a mix of purple and orange, dotted with stars. The street was not as lively as it had been earlier that day, but there were still a few businesses open and people walking this way and that, whether to run errands or to enjoy a romantic evening with a significant other. A handful of horse-drawn carts trotted by, and children still darted here and there, laughing.
Among those walking through the street was a group of adventurers Pomni had only heard of, never met for herself. They were a motely crew, varying in height, size, and according to rumors, personality. No one knew who the leader was, but many figured it was the red-headed cleric with a button sewn over where her right eye should be. The shops in towns knew the hooded rogue, the short artificer and the ranger, tallest of the group, most. It was from them that most rumors began, considering the cleric and the wizard—who trailed at the back of the group currently, examining what looked like a jar of… fireflies?—did not often need to do dealings with typical shop owners.
Pomni had never seen their group in person before. She had thought that most physical descriptions of the team’s members were exaggerated, but there they were, walking through town, keeping to themselves. The only time any of them made a move other than walk forward, was when the ranger stopped, turned and looked back at the trailing wizard. Two purple rabbit ears poked out from beneath his hood, both adorned in a piercing or two. He seemed to mutter to the man trailing behind him, and grabbed the wizard’s cloak in order to pull him along faster.
Pomni watched them head to the inn at the end of the street, and only when Gummigoo had pressed his face against the glass, did she notice that many people in the street were watching the group, some whispering amongst each other.
“Oh, them,” Gummigoo said, pealing his face off the window.
Pomni did not. She kept her eyes on the adventurers.
“That’s something I’ve been meanin’ to ask you, Pom,” Gummigoo continued, finally catching the bard’s attention. He sat back down in his seat. “Are you sure they’re the ones you need to ask for help from?”
Pomni blinked before sitting back down as well. “Need is a strong word,” she said with a short laugh, but no smile.
“Then I’ll rephrase my question: do you really plan on asking the Traveling Circus’ help for…” Gummigoo waved a hand through the air. “For whatever quest you said Caine had?”
“I… do.”
The crocodile frowned. “You don’t even sound sure about it yourself,” he said.
“Look; Caine seems to think that they’re perfect,” Pomni explained, holding her hands out over the table. “He never told me why, but as strange as he is, he’s never steered me completely wrong.”
“Keyword here is completely.”
“Gummi, please.” Pomni pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is serious.”
“I’m not sayin’ it ain’t. But you saw ‘em.” He held his arm in the direction of the outdoors. “People don’t call ‘em the Traveling Circus for looks only. They’re disruptive, chaotic, the whole shebang. I can’t say if they’ve even successfully completed missions without problems. Not all the stories are exaggerated.”
“Which means that some of them might be good.” Pomni sighed and massaged her temples. “Look; I’m skeptical about the whole thing myself, but I think maybe this is the change I need. Maybe, instead of waiting for people to bring me stories, I need to go look for them myself.”
“But…” The crocodile looked out the window again, this time with a worried look on his face. “You don’t adventure. You said so yourself. Isn’t throwin’ yourself into the shark tank the worst way to begin?”
“I dunno. Maybe.” Pomni traced circles on the table. “But maybe, they might not be as bad as everyone says they are. And I trust Caine… for the most part,” she added, under her breath. “You know he would never let anything bad happen to me.”
Gummigoo groan and passed a hand over his face. “I trust Caine as far as I can throw ‘im,” he said. Hearing Pomni laugh washed his frown away. “They’re a bunch of misfits. No one even knows what they specialize in, aside from their ranger has damn good aim. I’ve never seen them around when missions are handed out to help track Abstractions and their Zones of Wandering.” He crossed his arms. “If you’re set on doin’ this… I just want to know you’re takin’ every precaution you can, Pom.”
Pomni chuckled. “Now who’s worrying?” she teased, making him smile. Placing a hand on her chest, she added, “I promise I’ll look out for myself. You know no one’s more careful than I am.” She pulled out one of the daggers she kept in her belt. “I’ve got protection too! Got these as soon as you told me to buy myself something to keep me safe.”
Gummigoo snorted. “Now I’m really worried,” he teased.
“Oh shut up.”
*****