Kioyo spoke not a word as he led them away from Finvarra's tent. The only distant sound came from the flags on the peak of the Big Top that rustled violently in a new, aggravated wind. The fabric fingers clawed the air in futile attempts at snapping free, to fly far from the storm of that afternoon that still lingered in the air. Leanna swallowed tightly. The loitering violence stained her skin and threatened to drag her away all the same into this anger and darkness. She closed her eyes against it and let Kioyo steer her as she dug down and centered herself, hoping to find some semblance of calm. It was worse within. Her heart still pounded from Krinard's anger, her spirit still mourned Inara's horn. In the backdrop of it all, the echoing of Finvarra's tumultuous oceans haunted her. Its waves folded what remained of her inner peace into its arms and dragged it from the shores, into black, raging waters.

Leanna sighed resignedly and opened her eyes. She gazed out to the sea mist that now clung to the outer, overgrown fields of the fairgrounds as if trapping them all in this dream of tents and magic. The crystal stakes were now but shadows in the fog, their peaks coalesced with the mist. And beyond them, a white unknown. Leanna's heart sunk. With Inara's horn fallen, in less than a month, their power would be gone, and with it, all protection. The circus would be left to the mercy of the greatest of unknowns: Machina.

A shiver of dread roped down Leanna's spine and unwittingly she held on tighter to Kioyo, feeling less stable than ever. He didn't deny her and held her closely to his side, offering her some peace against this faceless and invisible, yet very real enemy.

Forcing her thoughts away from such glumness, Leanna lifted her eyes to Kioyo. His midnight eyes, were focused straight ahead on the black and red tent, as if hypnotized by the swirling sensation they fashioned under the afternoon light. She searched this now familiar face, taking in the pointed features on the boyish façade. His composure controlled and stride stable, Leanna lamented the woe just beneath the easy features. Though she knew he could be no older than perhaps Lydia's twenty-one years, the stress upon his brow shadowed his already dark eyes and aged him. And while not in his clown attire, dressed simply in shirt, brown breeches and an open coat, Leanna knew no paint on earth or careless air could ever hide the traces of blue and worry dulling his face.

Leanna took in a quiet breath, thinking she ought to say something, perhaps thanked him for drawing her away. She did neither. She simply relished in his scent, a hint of pine and tea—her own personal Christmas morning. With an exhale, she kept to their quiet and spoke not a word of what had transpired. There was no need. It echoed in the silence between them.

Once inside the Big Top, the stillness was dispelled. A robust man sat in a small stool at the furthest ring, playing a slow tune on a violin. It carried in the air like a scent, wafting and touching every heart with its sorrow. Leanna remembered the melody from the prior night. It was a variation of what played during Ellie and Jin's performance. It was slower, but the spirit of it was the same. The man's brows gathered in this quiet ache, as if searching for something lost deep in memory. As he swayed to the cries of the violin, a dark haired girl stretched back into herself, creating a perfect loop on a pole. Effortlessly, she knotted and re-knotted into herself, unable to free her body from this self-made prison. Leanna refused a breath; scared that the slightest take of air would send the pole wobbling and the girl would fall.

"That is Yelena, our contortionist. And playing the violin is Vicente, our bandleader."

Leanna braved a breath. "It's all so beautiful," she said quietly.

Finally, Kioyo looked down at Leanna and his mouth curved into a small smile. It was a little comfort in an otherwise gloomy start, and it gladdened Leanna to know he wasn't angry, nor blamed her for Inara's horn.

"Come," he said, leading them to the nearest ring. "You will see the rest of the performances soon enough. But there is practice to be had."

"I do wonder," Leanna asked absently, following yet still staring at Yelena. "Why do you all practice if you already know the routine?"

"What else is there to do? We can't leave the protection of the crystals—well, we can, but who would be foolish enough to do it? This circus is all we have," he said and patted her hand twice, though it felt more as if he soothed his own heart. "We practice and perfect our routines as much as we can, we perform, and such is our curse."

Kioyo released her arm and walked to the gallery seats, where he fetched a bundle of clothing. He had been waiting for her, Leanna deduced.

"And this curse, " she mused aloud. Her question was halted by a booming voice coming from the tent door.

"Wait, wait! You cannot begin, not yet!" The voice belonged to the fire breather who strode inside and toward them. He was a jovial man with an upward swept coiffe, sculpted like a stagnant flame. The red tresses remained unmoving in his dramatic approach. Leanna wondered how much pomade went into the style and then worried as pomade was highly flammable.

He came to a sharp stop before Leanna and held out his hand to her with theatrical gallantry. When Leanna slid her hand into his, he bent graciously over it.

"What now, Bertrand?" Kioyo groaned, massaging the back of his neck in apparent frustration. "I have work to do."

Bertrand straightened and scoffed incredulously. "Why, I have not told our dearest fairy girl that I am here for whenever she needs me," he said, and whirled back to Leanna. With a great exhale, he bowed dramatically. "At your service, my dearest Leanan."

"Let's not frighten the girl, Bertrand," Kioyo warned through an arched brow. He motioned with his head for Betrand to step away from Leanna.

"Nonsense," Leanna smiled, trying to fight off the quaver of her lips. It really was a delight to have someone else on her side. "I am glad you are here, regardless of, well... of what has happened."

The mood between them instantly darkened, but Bertrand warmed the air just as quickly.

"What happened with Inara is a tragedy, of course. But Krinard is—how do you say it?" Bertrand mused, turning green eyes toward the open spaces above. "Ah, right. He is a lunatic." His thick accent stressed the c, sounding more like a spark of fire. It tickled Leanna to hear it and she laughed. It was a warming sound, and she'd missed it so very much.

"But enough of this gloom," Bertrand boomed, and with even more whirling of the hands in extravagant gestures, added, "Now it is time to dance! And as you do, I can send beautiful sparks into the sky, making you appear as the angel you are, my divine sidhe." At this, a burst of fire shot from his hands. Leanna flinched with a yelp, and then clapped her hands to her mouth like a child watching them reach into the distance above and explode into crimson streams of fire. The fireworks rained down until dissolving into nothingness. Leanna could have cried. To have fireworks exploding around her as she danced? Why, that was as frightening as it was marvelous! More than she would have ever imagined for herself.

Leanna opened her mouth and closed it in succession. "How did you... how is it that you all do these—these wondrous things?" she marveled, forcing her eyes from the remnants of colored fire that evaporated above her. "Those flames came from your hand?"

Bertrand held his hands at his sides and wriggled his fingers. "Where else, my dear? Just as Ellie and Jin had wings, I make fire. I can wield it into anything I like. Hence, the dragons."

"Marvelous," Leanna breathed with a giggle, and turned to a curiously quiet Kioyo. "And you? Last night, you walked across the rope so easily, and I could have sworn your eyes changed somehow."

Kioyo lowered his head, and fumbled with the white fabric in his hold. "Unfortunately, my ability is not as mesmerizing as either Ellie and Jin's, or Bertrand's."

Leanna stared at him through narrowed eyes. "So says the clown that abandoned me on a platform leagues in the air?"

Though humor hung on the side of his mouth, sorrow still claimed Kioyo's eyes. "Sadly, no. So says your friend, and now your instructor." He gazed back at Leanna with a sad smile and shrugged. "Perhaps later, once I have redeemed myself with honorable qualities will I show you. But do not expect anything as great as wings or fantastic as fire."

Leanna tilted her head a little and her lips curved a little. "I daresay you've shown plenty of honorable qualities. Regardless of what, I am certain I will find you immensely beautiful, and breathtaking."

Kioyo's face reddened and he walked away toward Bertrand at the gallery seats. "Now for that practice," he said, clearing his throat. Leanna smiled inwardly; glad to have offered him a bit of comfort as he had her.

"Here," Kioyo said and tossed the bundle he held at Leanna. She caught it blindly, her face suddenly buried behind layers of fabric upon fabric. Peeling them apart, Leanna unearthed a short muslin gown and long hose.

"These were supposed to have been for Ellie," Kioyo said as Leanna held up a pair of satin slippers before her eyes. "You two are about the same size, so they should do."

Leanna clutched the clothing to her chest. "How could I ever thank you? I left in such a hurry, and am so terribly unprepared."

"Don't thank me. Thank Minerva—well, don't thank her yet." Kioyo was quiet for a thoughtful moment. "Perhaps you shouldn't thank her at all."

Leanna shot him an enquiring look at which Kioyo rubbed the back of his neck, a smile of utter mischief curving his lips upward. He rocked back on his heels with a sheepish shrug. "You see, she doesn't know I've taken these... yet."

"I couldn't!" Leanna protested archly. "You must take them back!"

"She'll have your skin," Bertrand chuckled. "You sneaky little—"

Kioyo tossed a sharp glare at Bertrand who quieted instantly. Had Leanna not been fretting over the stolen attire in her possession, she would have seen it. She didn't, instead holding the garments out to Kioyo.

"You must take them back, Kioyo. There is no way I could wear these. After this morning, everyone hates me, and now they'll only think worse!"

"Relax," Kioyo coaxed, gently easing Leanna's hands back toward her. "Minerva was not there during the little incident this morning. She was fast asleep."

"That's even worse!" Leanna cried archly. "Minerva doesn't know me. The last I need is for her to think that I am a thief. I don't want her to think ill of me before we've met." Leanna looked down to the garments and bit her lip. She really did need the wears for rehearsals. Clutching them against her chest, she said, "Or perhaps we should ask her now." Leanna started for the door decidedly. "Yes, yes, take me to her and I shall apologize and ask to borrow them."

Kioyo looped his arm around hers, and twirled her back around. "Impossible. I told you, Minerva won't be awake until later on this evening, at least until the sun goes down. She has, well..." Kioyo trailed off struggling to frame the right words. "She has an extreme light sensitivity of sorts."

Bertrand snorted. "Yes, the deadly sort of sensitivity. The type that will make you burst into—" He snapped his fingers and sparked an orb of fire at his palm.

Kioyo rolled his eyes and slapped the fiery sphere to the ground. It rolled and extinguished with a hiss. "Never mind him. Minerva will not mind. I will take full responsibility."

Leanna gazed at each of them equally through narrowed eyes, just as confused. "Well, when she wakes, I would very much like to thank her and apologize, if you don't mind taking me to her."

Kioyo deflated with a long breath. "Yes, there will be time for apologies, but we must begin, so if you would please," he said, encouraging her to the back door of the Big Top. Leanna walked few steps and looked back only to see Kioyo waving her along. She did not quarrel with him anymore as she knew she would meet no harm with the likes of Kioyo and Bertrand... or at least she hoped not.

Through the curtain folds at the rear side of the Big Top, Leanna encountered a more narrow room connected to the Big Top—the dressing tent. Long tables and mirrors lined the walls, and on the opposite side costumes hung in rows. Leanna would have liked to walk around and trail her hands along the feathers and sequins, even along the chairs, if only to feel the lingering anticipation from performances past. She closed her eyes, imagining how alive she would feel opening day. The mere thought sent her stomach into a series of somersaults. But there would be plenty of times for dreams. She quickly found a fairly secluded area between two racks of costumes and changed as quickly as she was able to with trembling fingers and the cold.

Once dressed, Leanna gathered her things and intended for the door when sight of her reflection gave her pause. She approached it slowly, transfixed by the stranger gazing back at her with bright brown eyes full of... hope. Her skin, though still pale, now looked like the delicate petals of a white rose, rather than that of a sickly girl. Before the mirror, Leanna touched the lace that adorned her bodice and ran her hand lightly along the scooped neckline. Though just for practice, never had she looked so beautiful. Leanna twirled once—twice, giggling at the feel of the light muslin floating in the air. Coming full round, Leanna tucked her necklace between her skin and the soft fabric. She glanced one last time at this new version of herself, gathered up her belongings and rushed back into the Big Top.

At her appearance, Betrand clapped louder than was necessary. A small smile toyed at Kioyo's mouth. His brows rose slightly, his dark eyes unable to hide his approval. Leanna's face grew hot, but she did not lower it. This new sensation warmed her, and it was pleasing. Mirroring his grin, she set her previous attire down on the gallery seats and met Kioyo at the ring edge.

He cleared his throat a few times. "So what dance experience have you got?" Kioyo asked first, climbing onto the wooden edge of the ring.

Leanna shrugged awkwardly, gazing up at him. "I danced ballet since I was a little girl. I haven't danced in quite some time, so I fear I may not be so good."

Kioyo hummed noncommittally. "We have three days to make you better than good."

"You mean magnificent?" Leanna taunted him and herself.

Kioyo wrinkled his nose. "You've seen the posters, then? Well, we can worry about those later. We will start practice on the ground, and then work our way to the rope. First we stretch, and then I will show you the routine as it should be performed."

Stretching, to Leanna's dismay, was as painful as it was hard. It had been so very long since she'd stretched and pushed her body to such length. Practice from the prior night had taken its toll and Leanna was reminded of it with a pang when she attempted to bend. Touching her toes brought with it a few snaps, reaching to her sides a few cracks. And after a few more pops from numerous bones and joints, Leanna pressed her heels together, mustering up as many memories of lessons, and as much courage as she could manage. She could do this. She had to.

As she lamented her aches, Kioyo explained, "Each show has a theme. Finvarra is against random acts simply taking up space in the rings. He likes for each piece to tell a part in the story as a whole. Thus your act must follow within the main story, illustrating your own personal experience with the theme."

"And what is the theme for this performance?" Leanna asked.

"Degrees of Yearning," Kioyo said. "In my act, I make spectators laugh through my desire to learn to ride a unicycle. Bertrand longs to rid the world of darkness. And look there," he pointed to Yelena and Vincente. "Yelena wishes for freedom, but everything she does only enslaves her more. The image of her haunts Vincente's memory as he has loved her all his life and only wishes to help her. Thus they are trapped in this desire, in this longing... yearning."

Leanna tore her eyes away from the paradox of beauty and sadness. "And my act?" she asked tentatively.

"You, my dear, long for love and acceptance--and thus was The Raven and his Dove. But without Ellie and Jin, you will have to perform alone. We have no time to create a new routine, so I will teach you Ellie's first performance from long ago. You must call to mind whatever memories you have of an unrequited love and dance such as this," he said, and with the end of his words, Kioyo twirled once, and on pointe swayed through a series of liquid movements as if he were coming out from within his skin.

The actions evoked sentiments of pain, of ache, of longing, akin to Vincente's song. Leanna forced herself from the awe of watching him dance to pay attention to the actual movements. They were simple enough, a sway here, and twirl there. Simple, yes, but it was more. There was a plea to his every move, to the way he held his hand out to this invisible ghost he desired. Lost in this world of furtive love, his brows furrowed in agony as his fingers extended to the reaches before him, to no one at all who was everything to him in that instant. Leanna found her heart putting words to his florid dance, one of waiting eternities for a love, only to have it there, just out of reach.

When he was done, Kioyo did it once again so Leanna could capture each measure to memory. Leanna, however, could hardly see through the tears in her eyes. It was as heartbreaking as it was beautiful.

After various displays, Kioyo bowed and jumped down from the edge and into the ring. He extended a hand to Leanna and drew her beside him. He faced her and with an incline of the head, stepped back.

Leanna nodded nervously at his quiet prompt. She rubbed her fingers nervously on her gown, hauling in various deep breaths to tame her tumbling stomach. It wasn't that she didn't want to dance—she did—but it had been so very long. Oh, how she wished she could have attempted it without everyone watching. But matters could have been worse, and so she thanked the heavens that she at least had some formal training.

Leanna pressed her heels together, but her hips felt tight and therefore the stance awkward. She disregarded this and loosened her hands. She extended them at her sides—but no, that was wrong. She lowered them. Looping them before her, Leanna arched her back and put her feet together. Yes, that was right. She took a breath, and now she... did nothing. Leanna dissolved.

Trying again, Leanna regained her posture, tipped her chin up and set off on her memory of the routine, stumbling through the many steps, clumsily bumping into Kioyo at every turn. Arabesques would wither into tipping forwards, pirouettes only led to Kioyo getting hit. Badly she tried to lose herself in the moans of the violin, wanting fuse herself with its tender strokes and somehow liquefy her movements. But her heart pounded its own song, the familiar, erratic tune of fear—fear of it failing her, fear of her failing everyone else.

Each furious heartbeat locked her joints, and where she was to look as if a blooming flower in a spring sun, she appeared more to wilt under a harsh winter's snow. Where she was to soar like a bird, hesitation clipped her wings and she crashed miserably. Instead of feeling as if her soul yearned to come out of her body, as Kioyo had done, she felt trapped... caged behind the bars of her ribs, and those of her dread. Something as natural as breathing became as unnatural as that of a mechanical heart.

When she managed to reach the end of the routine—or of what she could remember of it, anyway—Leanna turned to Kioyo and Bertrand.

For a moment, they just looked at her, stunned. She hesitated, afraid to ask what they really thought, though their arrested expressions said it all. Kioyo rested an elbow on his palm, while the other hand held his head up thoughtfully. Bertrand tilted his head to the side as if trying to decipher what on earth she'd just done. He looked at her for a moment through narrowed eyes, then leaned his chin on his fist.

Leanna twisted her fingers together at her core. "It's a disaster, I know." She walked to the ring edge and with a huff of frustration, sat down miserably on the wooden rim, defeated. She looked down to the slivers of sawdust. A great wind would blow them away. No doubt Finvarra would blow her away as well, did he see her atrocious dancing. Oh, she'd been a fool to believe she could do this.

Finally, "Not a disaster, no—well, not exactly," Kioyo chuckled warily. "What are you thinking about while dancing?"

"Getting the routine right," Leanna answered plainly, with an equally helpless shrug.

"And therein lays your problem." Kioyo rose and walked to her. Extending a hand to her, he tugged Leanna to her feet. "It is about feeling, Leanna. All the training in the world cannot teach you to feel. Ellie's routines are not so much about structure and exactness. It is freer flowing. It is your soul pouring out of you through your movements."

With his words, Kioyo swayed a hand, tracing a line in the air, and then let it trickle like a waterfall. He whirled behind Leanna and cradled her elbow, encouraging her arm into the air in a like manner. "Dancing is not an act bound to this earth. When you dance, you must rise out from this being and let your spirit lead you. That is the only way you will find fluidity and grace in your movements." He whirled her various times until she giggled with dizziness. Bringing her back to center, he said, "Show me how your spirit yearns, how it wants to leave this body only to meet the soul of her love. Think of that one person you love and wish for your own, only they don't know you exist. Better yet, think of your first kiss, of the moment just before, as their lips lingered but a breath away from yours. Only imagine them backing away, taking with them the kiss that should have been."

Leanna's cheeks tingled pink and she lowered her head. "I... I've never desired anyone," she confessed in a little under a whisper, wondering whether she should disclose that she'd never had her first kiss either.

"Then it is a good thing you are in the circus, where illusions are our way of life," Kioyo said. A gentle finger encouraged her downcast face upwards, where Kioyo gave her a sly smile. "We will fake it as best we can."

"And what if we can't?" Leanna asked.

Kioyo looked to Betrand, whose face lit up as the very fires he possessed. "Then we will need lots of fireworks."

Rehearsals blurred the hours into a smear of dizzying pirouettes, failed arabesque, and painful echappes. When the sun gave way to night, Bertrand left to light all the fires throughout the circus, though Leanna's bitter half told her she'd extinguished all his hopes with her dancing—if it could even be called that.

The moon was but a little less than a half in the sky when Leanna finally mastered the routine as best she could. However, the stagnant crease on Kioyo's brow made it clear she still fell short of expectations. After expressing hunger—perhaps a mere disguise for frustration—Kioyo now led them to the cookhouse.

In passing the menagerie tent, Ben waved and flashed his toothless smile at Leanna. She waved shyly, but in seeing Kia still sleeping behind him with a tipped bucket beside her wagon, Leanna's hand trickled to her side. Ale, Leanna thought sadly. Kia still mourned Ellie and Jin.

This gave Leanna pause. It was unsurprising that Kia still grieved over Ellie and Jin's departure. Hardly any time had passed... yet, it felt like weeks had come and gone since they'd vanished. Leanna shook her head, too tired to contemplate the passing of time... or its lack of.

Leanna turned her head. She stopped abruptly, halting Kioyo's steps as well. Leanna narrowed her eyes to the sight passing before them, at this hooded horse a distance away, crossing the field alone. A heavy ache gathered just above Leanna's heart. The sadness of Inara's eyes still lingered in her thoughts. Leanna shook her head slowly. No one should be left to suffer alone. Perhaps if she went to her, just to introduce herself, and apologize or—

"Don't even think about it," Kioyo muttered from beside her. "Krinard will never allow you to talk to her. Look." Kioyo gestured with his head toward the cookhouse. "He's watching her like a vulture until she enters the tent."

Leanna could not be troubled to look away from the hooded mare until she vanished into the dark tent. Kioyo started to move, but Leanna remained rooted where she stood.

"I need to do this," Leanna confessed, and followed Kioyo's gaze to Krinard. "You're right, he watched her go in, but look now. He's looked away." And he had, now deep in discussion with his fellow horsemen.

"Now is my chance. I'll say what I need to say and be gone before he even realizes I've been there. I only want to see how she is doing, and introduce myself, and let her know that I mean no harm."

Before Kioyo could disagree, Leanna drew closer. "Please, Kioyo. She's ill and alone, and I know all too well how she feels. It hurts, and I can't just leave her there to suffer this alone as I did. Sometimes just a smile would have brightened my day, would have made my illness more bearable, but I was left to the confines of my room with nothing but fictional characters and waving trees as my company. Understand me." Leanna smiled weakly, blinking back tears of painful loneliness. "Even if she runs me out, at least I'll have tried."

A deep crease marked Kioyo's brow. His eyes, alit with worry, stared across the field. "But Krinard—"

Leanna cupped his cheek delicately, turning his face back to her. Her action was bold and it surprised him, surprised her, but she rose above proprieties, above the foreign sensation of his stubble tickling her fingertips. "I'm not asking for your permission, Kioyo, just your support. Just as you snuck into Minerva's tent, I need to do this. I would feel safer with you by my side, but you can turn away and pretend you never saw me enter. I won't hold it against you in any way."

Kioyo's black eyes narrowed for a moment. He held her gaze and his jaw clenched under her fingers as disapproval weighed heavy on his brow. Cold air strummed chillingly between them, but seeing the concern in her eyes warmed Leanna's heart.

His head fell back with a groan. "You have to be quick."

Leanna allowed herself the sigh she'd gathered in her chest in wait for his reply. A radiant smile beamed onto her face, a lacking imitation to the gladness that ignited a flame in her cheeks. Kioyo fashioned a grin, although forced and unconvincing.

As Kioyo lay down their plan, Leanna listened intently and trembled, but from cold or nerves, she wasn't sure.

Casting a fleeting look over Leanna's shoulder to a preoccupied Krinard, Kioyo held a finger over his lips. On prompt, they took off between the tents.

Their hands bridged them together as they found their way under the cover of night to the frantic poundings of Leanna's heart. Though it slammed wildly against her ribs like death knocking at her soul's door, never had Leanna felt as alive as she did there, with the cold, damp grass bleeding through her satin slippers, with Kioyo's warm hand never letting her go, leading them across this grassy field toward risks unknown.

Frigid winds howled. The violent gust tore Leanna's ribbon from her hair and she yelped as brown tresses whipped at will, as if wishing to catch the crimson thread. But it wriggled out of reach and slithered into the night, unencumbered... free.

At the sound, Kioyo ducked them behind a tent where within, the inhabitant shadow froze. Kioyo spun to her, his dark eyes ablaze with warning. Yet against all the coming dangers, Leanna giggled quietly at the dizzying sensation of blood pumping through her veins with a vengeance, at this warmth of life happening with her, around her. Oh, never in a million years would she have dared such travesty! She cupped a hand against her mouth to stifle the silent, flowery sound, but her nerves swelled and it cascaded from her lips as free as the strands that belted around her. Skeletal branches conspired with the choral winds, however, and veiled Leanna's mirth with their crackling sound. After a moment, the shadow figure began moving about once more, and all was safe.

Kioyo's shoulders slumped with a cloudy breath, extinguishing the previous anger. He stared at Leanna, and after a moment, shook his head with a quiet smile that softened his features. He slid off his cloak and draped it around Leanna's shoulders. Pulling the hood up against her fugitive tresses, he held a finger to his lips and took her hand once more. With the invisible fingers of the wind pushing them toward their destination, like insolent children, they ducked outside the ring of lamplights and passersby, and reached Inara's tent undetected. Another count and Kioyo steered them inside.

The world fell away then, bowing out to the sight of Inara lying alone in the only stream of light coming in from outside. On her side, Inara's whitish mane spread on the grass in rippled rows that glistened like spider silk in the faint light. Around her, buds of snowdrop flowers sprouted from the earth with each of her breaths. Leanna watched saddened as the trail of white flowers birthed and died with the natural rhythm of Inara's life. Still, her beauty surpassed all bounds, leaning more to an angelic nature. This angel's glow, however, was dimmed, fading like the light of a dying sun.

Leanna grasped her skirt tightly, and neared her. Hearing Leanna's approach, Inara lifted her head. Leanna sucked in a quiet breath, and for a moment, they stared at one another. The instant over, Inara lowered her head down and turned pale eyes back toward the shadows.

Leanna gulped, hesitating. She looked to Kioyo who stood just inside of the curtains, keeping watch. He nodded once and waved her along. Tentative steps carried her forward, to the rim of light. She knelt at Inara's side.

Silence. Then,

"You're not supposed to be here."

Leanna's brows furrowed. Inara hadn't made a sound, yet Leanna heard the soft, feminine voice that was not that of her conscience or of her meddlesome bitter half, clearly inside of her head as if a thought. Leanna leaned in a bit. "D-did you just speak?"

Inara lifted her head, snowy eyes focused on Leanna. "Yes. As my guardian and mate, only Krinard can hear me. Finvarra as well, but it is his sovereign right. I suppose some abilities are extended to you by that crystal you wear."

Leanna clasped the crystal in her hands. "You know what it is?"

"I do. I made them, but I don't think that is the reason you are here..."

Leanna gathered her thoughts. "You're right. Pardon me. I know I shouldn't be here, but I've only come to... to introduce myself, and to pardon myself, and to let you know that despite what Krinard thinks, I am not the enemy. If in any way I caused your horn to fall and am the reason you are sick, I am so terribly sorry. I would never inflict harm upon anyone. I know all too well what it feels like to be ill and alone." Leanna lowered her head, the pain of a lifetime still very present. "I know my words may not mean much, and you would probably wish for Krinard to find me and toss me over the crystals for Machina's taking, but... I just want to say that I am sorry."

Inara stared in silence for an infinite moment. "Just because I have no horn does not mean I have no heart. I would never wish Machina upon you, nor do I blame you, Leanan. It is not your fault that my horn has fallen," she lamented and lowered her head, "or that Krinard is too afraid and stubborn to accept the truth."

"Truth?" Leanna whispered.

"You've heard it been said. Fear drives out all magic." A shimmering tear trickled from Inara's eyes like the dying remnants of a shooting star. "I fear every day."

"Fear what? Machina?"

"No," she said, weak and solemn. "Krinard and Finvarra. I fear what this circus is doing to them. We were all the best of friends when we were younger, before statuses happened, before circuses happened, before Machina happened. We all turned a blind eye to Finvarra's actions which only made us just as guilty and thus we must share in his curse, as our part in the blame. Krinard does not see that," she cried, her voice breaking. "He blames Finvarra, just as Finvarra blames himself. And now, they are losing themselves to this blackness and I don't know how to keep them away from it. My wisdom has failed me and I can only watch on, powerless, as I lose them to their hate, to their desperation, long before ever losing them to Machina."

She let out a weary breath. "And I am losing myself. I used to love to simply ride, but this grief consumes me and I cannot bear to move. Caught in between these crystals, all I can do is wait for death at the hands of sorrow, or at the rusted hands of Machina." Inara wept. And as she did, so did Leanna realizing that her heart wasn't the only one broken. "It is I who fear, little sidhe. It is I who fear, and you must be her, or I will lose them both."

Leanna opened her mouth, but emotions gathered in her throat and consumed her words.

"I smell Krinard. He is coming!" Kioyo hissed behind her, angling his body to peer outside of the curtains from within the shadows. "We need to go!"

Leanna stopped sharply, her mind suddenly hitching in alertness. Her senses somehow expounding, she heard Krinard's hollow taps on the earth. Leanna looked back to Inara and wavered.

"Now, Leanna!" Kioyo whispered heatedly.

"Go," Inara said. "But please, whatever it is you are going to do, do it fast. Before the crystals fail us." Inara bowed her head onto Leanna's lap, and together they shed one more secret tear. Leanna gathered up her skirts, and scurrying to Kioyo, she turned back to the dying unicorn just as she lowered her head onto the damp ground, defeated.

Leanna's heart strummed. Too many times she'd lay the same, cried the same...

Conviction swelled, and Leanna tore away from Kioyo's hand and rushed back to Inara. Falling beside the downed horse. Leanna draped herself over her, and with a gentle embrace spoke the words of her broken heart. "You must make do with what you have," she spoke hurriedly. "Forget about all else and ride because you cannot imagine not doing so. Do not do it for Krinard. Do not do it for Finvarra—"

"Leanna!" Kioyo hissed.

Leanna's pulse quickened and pushed out the rest of her words. "Do it because you yearn for freedom, because if you don't feel the breeze at your hair, because if you don't feel the blood bursting through your veins, because if you don't go faster with each step, you will go mad. Even if you falter and fall, feel weakened and discouraged, ride again, because it is what you truly love, what you are meant to do. Ride because if you don't, you will surely die."

And with a light kiss on the golden mane, Leanna pushed back to standing and ran to Kioyo's outstretched hand. Together they slipped out into the shadows of the night.

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