Chapter 5 - New Warmth

Before the bewilderment of his current situation could fully settle, Nikos found himself swept up in a whirlwind of activity. The members of the Wandering Menagerie Circus moved with mesmerizing efficiency as they dismantled their fantastical world.

Nikos couldn't help but watch in awe as the once-imposing tents collapsed into neat bundles, colorful banners rolled up with practiced precision, mysterious contraptions vanishing into ornate boxes. It was as if an entire realm was being packed away, leaving behind only breaths of its former glory.

"So, what's your name?" 

Nikos blinked, tearing his gaze away from the organized chaos around him. 

"Uh... what?" His voice cracked, throat dry from disuse.

"Your name?" 

"Oh, uh… Nikos. Where... where are we exactly?" 

Kento's grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I told you, The Wandering Menagerie Circus!"

Nikos shook his head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. "No, I mean... we're still in Shodun, right?" 

"Well yeah, but…" Kento's brow furrowed, his nimble fingers still absently juggling the ornate daggers. "Hmm, I don't think this place is on the map. I think they call it Shim Village?"

Nikos's eyes widened as he released a deep sigh. Shim Village – the name stirred memories. Bernhard had said it was only a few days' journey from Graybarrow. Far from being lost, he had made progress.

"How did I get here?"

Kento's cheerful demeanor sobered slightly, his nimble fingers stilling the daggers. "We found you in the wastes about a week ago. You were in pretty bad shape, a few of us thought you were already dead."

The words knocked the breath from Nikos's lungs. He stumbled backward, his legs suddenly unsteady, his voice rising with panic. "A week?! I... I'm grateful, truly. But I have to go. Now."

"I don't believe you'll be scampering off just yet, my young friend," a smooth, cultured voice interjected. The words carried an undercurrent of authority that made the hairs on the back of Nikos's neck stand up.

Nikos spun around, his body instinctively shifting into a defensive stance. He found himself once again face-to-face with the enigmatic ringmaster. Nikos couldn't help but shiver at the intensity in eyes.

"Mr. Ahriman!" Kento's voice rang out in surprise. "I didn't hear you, are we ready to go?"

Ahriman nodded, patting Kento's arm. "Indeed. Run along and inform Ingrid, would you?"

As Kento rushed off, Ahriman turned his full attention to Nikos. His eyes seemed to peer into the boy's very soul. "As for you, spirited young Nikos, you're in no shape for lone wandering. The measly morsels we've nudged down your gullet won't cut it. Besides," a hint of concern crept into his tone, "a sapling like yourself shouldn't be roaming about unattended, come what may."

Nikos bristled at being called a child, but before he could retort, Ahriman continued. "I couldn't help but notice your keen eye during our show earlier. Those moves weren't all jumble to you, were they?"

Nikos nodded, a lump forming in his throat. "Yes… The man who raised me… he taught me the Lechi Martial Arts."

"Well, isn't that something," Ahriman's eyes twinkled like old stars. "A rare bird of a fighting style, that. Who was this remarkable teacher of yours?"

"Bernhard," Nikos's voice was barely above a whisper. "Bernhard Strumfels."

A flash of recognition crossed Ahriman's face. "An Ascendant, how interesting. I trust the term rings a bell?"

A fire kindled within Nikos's chest. "Yeah! World-famous. People in the history books." Nikos stood a little straighter, his voice gaining strength. "I'll be an Ascendant one day."

"Ah, will you now? No wonder our Kento took a shine to you," Ahriman chuckled, a mischievous lilt in his voice. "Tell me, young Nikos, where are you bound?"

Nikos felt his fire change from pride to hatred. "The capital." 

Ahriman studied him for a long moment, then nodded as if coming to a decision. 

"Here's a thought for you. Why not throw your lot in with our merry band? We're headed northward – not all the way to the big city, mind you, but it's a start. You might pick up a trick or two, and more importantly," his tone grew dramatically serious, "you won't be keeling over from thirst or hunger along the way."

Ahriman's toothy grin sent a shiver down Nikos's spine, but the energy around the strange little man was undeniably captivating. Despite his initial wariness, Nikos found himself drawn in by the man.

Everything inside Nikos screamed to run, to flee. But his feet were rooted to the spot, his body a statue against the man's gaze. If they wanted to kill me they could have done it already… and they did save me…  

After a moment, Nikos relented. "Alright," he said slowly. "It... would be nice to learn more about those techniques I saw earlier." His mind flashed back to Bernhard, a pang of grief twisting in his chest.

"Wonderful! Simply wonderful!" Before Nikos could react, the ringmaster had wrapped him in a surprisingly strong embrace, spinning him around. "Allow me to introduce you to our motley crew!" Ahriman led Nikos through the bustling activity of the small troupe, his red eyes gleaming with pride. Their first stop was near a wagon that seemed impossibly small for its intended cargo.

"Ah, Goliath!" Ahriman called out, his voice carrying an authority that belied his small stature. "Come meet our new traveler!"

Nikos's jaw dropped as the mountain of a man he'd encountered earlier lumbered into view. Goliath's massive hands easily hefted entire tents, folding them as if they were mere handkerchiefs. Crates that would require a team of men to move were tossed onto the wagon with casual ease.

"This is Goliath, our doorman and ticketmaster," Ahriman explained, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Say hello, Goliath!"

The giant's face split into a gentle, almost childlike smile. He lowered one enormous hand, extending a single finger towards Nikos. The boy hesitated for a moment, then reached out, his entire hand barely managing to wrap around Goliath's fingertip. The contrast was staggering – Nikos's sun-weathered, calloused hand against skin that felt like warm, living stone.

"And of course, you've already seen Shahin in action," Ahriman gestured towards the pale man from the performance.

Shahin approached with fluid grace, his movements so smooth he seemed to glide rather than walk. He fixed Nikos with an intense gaze, eyes still smoldering like embers, before sweeping into a deep, formal bow.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, young one," Shahin's voice was rich and cultured. He took Nikos's hand in both of his own, skin cool to the touch. "I trust our performance was... illuminating?"

Nikos nodded, momentarily at a loss for words. The raw power he'd witnessed on stage was now contained, coiled just beneath Shahin's polite exterior. It was both thrilling and terrifying to be near such skill.

"And I am Enki!" A booming voice rang out, followed by a resounding thump as the Serkan man clapped Shahin on the back. The pale man barely flinched, a testament to his inhuman strength.

Enki turned his attention to Nikos, his green skin gleaming under the fading light. Those reptilian eyes, with their vertical slits for pupils, bored into Nikos. He felt an instinctive urge to look away, but something – fear, respect, or sheer fascination – kept his gaze locked.

"So, you liked the performance?" Enki asked, his voice high and jovial.

Nikos swallowed hard, finding his voice. "Y-yes. You use Lechi?"

Enki's brow furrowed, confusion replacing his grin. "Lechi?" he echoed, giving Nikos a puzzled look. "Never heard of it."

"The fighting style you used, the way you moved like you knew what was going to happen."

Understanding dawned on Enki's face. "Oh!" he exclaimed, his sharp-toothed grin returning. "I actually learned that from an old friend, Lucio. I connect my energy to things so I can see through them."

Nikos's eyes widened. "The soaring style of Lechi is all about connecting yourself to your surroundings, becoming one with it," he explained, his voice gaining strength as excitement overrode his initial nervousness.

Enki leaned in closer, his reptilian eyes glinting with newfound curiosity. "Really?!" His voice tinged with genuine fascination. "Why don't we train together sometime? Perhaps this 'Lechi' is somehow derived from us Serkans."

The offer sent a thrill through Nikos. Here was an opportunity to not only learn new techniques, but potentially uncover the origins of the fighting style Bernhard and Valda had taught them. It was a chance to grow stronger, to take another step towards finding Sigrid, and getting his revenge.

"I'd like that," A determined smile slowly spread across Nikos's face. "A lot."

"Well now, Nikos, why don't you go and meet with Kento and Ingrid, you can sit with them. You should find them right over there." Ahriman pointed towards a small wagon adorned with two flickering torches, pulled by a large black horse with metic legs.

As Nikos approached, he could just make out Kento. Beside him sat a girl with fiery red hair cascading down her back, wearing a purple sequined dress that caught the torchlight. As her face came into view, Nikos's heart skipped a beat in a way he had never felt before. Heat flared in his cheeks, and his stomach began doing somersaults. Confusion wracked his mind as these new sensations washed over him, leaving him wondering if it was just exhaustion catching up to him.

"Over here Nikos!" Kento excitedly pat the spot opposite him and the girl, "this is Ingrid, she's Azrael's partner."

Ingrid had bright green eyes and pale dotted skin that sent shivers down his spine. Nikos awkwardly offered his hand, to which she promptly shook. Her skin was soft and warm, sending another wave of heat wafting into his face, he tried to speak but as he stared into her eyes his mind seemed to halt. 

"Hi…uh… I'm Nikos." He stammered as if learning to speak for the first time. The carriage lurched forward without warning, sending Nikos stumbling. His foot caught on the edge of his seat, and he pitched forward, nearly colliding with Ingrid. He caught himself at the last second, face burning hotter than ever, while Kento's quiet snicker turned into full-blown laughter.

"Careful there," Kento extended his thin hand to steady Nikos. "So, where're you from? Don't usually find kids wandering the wastes alone."

Nikos forced himself to look anywhere but at Ingrid, his fingers drumming against his knee. "Small town called Graybarrow." He struggled to keep his voice steady. "Probably never heard of it."

"Why were you out there?" Ingrid asked softly, the sound of her voice sending another wave of warmth through him.

"I'm… I'm tracking someone… Two people. Actually. This man, he took my sister. Sigrid." His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white. The earlier butterflies in his stomach turned to lead.

"Loss is what brought most of us here. The circus, it's our family." Ingrid touched his arm gently.

"Do you have anyone left?" Kento blurted. Ingrid shot him a look that forced the boy back, tugging at his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

A weak smile played on Nikos's lips. "It's fine. My birth parents died when I was little. Sigrid's family took me in, but..." He shrugged, trying to seem casual even as his chest tightened. "They're gone too."

A heavy silence filled the wagon. Punctuated by the gentle sway of their transport and rhythmic clinking of the horse's metallic hooves. The wagon hit a bump, briefly jostling them. As they settled, Kento reached out, gripping Nikos's shoulder. 

"Well, you're not alone anymore. Whatever happens when you find her, you can count on us!"

"He's right. The circus, we look out for our own. And like it or not, you're one of us now."

"But..." Nikos glanced between them, brows knitting together. His fingers fidgeted with the frayed edge of his sleeve, and he swallowed hard. "You barely know me."

Kento snorted, some of his energy returning. "Know you? We've been sharing a wagon for hours! That practically makes us siblings." His expression softened. "Besides, I know what it's like to lose family."

"We all do," Ingrid added quietly, "That's what brought us together." 

She hesitated, then continued, her green eyes shimmering in the torchlight."My parents... they gave me up. They thought the circus would give me a better life than they could."

A small, sad smile curved Ingrid's lips. "The circus is my home now. Ahriman became like a father to me. And Kento..." She glanced at the white-haired boy. "Well, he's the annoying brother I never asked for."

"Hey!" Kento protested, but he was grinning.

Despite everything, Nikos found himself smiling too. The ache in his chest was still there, but somehow it felt lighter, shared between the three of them.

"So," Kento leaned back and resumed his knife juggling, "what's the plan? You can't just wander around right? That'd take way to long."

"I..." Nikos faltered. "I hadn't really thought about it."

"Good thing you've got us then," Kento declared. "I'm great at plans!"

Ingrid raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you ended up stuck on the big top last week?"

"That was intentional! I was practicing my high-wire act."

"Without a wire?"

As his new friends bickered, Nikos felt a shift inside him. He cleared his throat, interrupting their playful argument. "Thank you."

Kento draped an arm around his shoulders. "That's what family's for, right?"

"Right," Nikos echoed, the word feeling both foreign and right on his tongue.

The wagon hit another bump, jostling them again. Kento nearly dropped one of his daggers, causing Ingrid to roll her eyes and Nikos to laugh. As they settled back down, Nikos found himself talking more freely about his life in Graybarrow - about Valda's strict but fair training, about Bernhard's legendary cooking, about lazy summer days spent playing with Sigrid.

In return, Kento regaled him with tales of circus mishaps and triumphs, each story punctuated by Ingrid's corrections and additions. The night deepened around them, but in their small, torch-lit wagon, a new kind of warmth bloomed.