Shadow-Stained Revelations

Palomino exhaled the breath she forgot she had been holding. In the fading light of the empty circus tent the pale gold of her hair became a tapestry of stardust and moon silk. Ethereal white and glory gold. These were the things that pretty Palomino was made of. A shard of diamond, a cut of glass all contained in a precious jar. Her heart. Her memories. Her emotions.

It had been what seemed another lifetime since she had entered the circus tent once more where the acrobats and tight rope walkers offered the spellbinding visuals of their acts of breath-taking feats.

Remedy.

Another breath drawn in. A close of eyes to crush the threaten of tears. A shuddering breath to deafen the sudden sound of her thundering heart. Her spirit was a wild mare. Never broken and never tamed and yet things never remained. She was dust and memories, sunlight and sorrow, moon dreams and despairs.

A rustle of fabric from the silk of the ropes and ribbons they took flight upon and wove about their lithe figures brought her eyes once more to open. The loss was suppressed by the simple beauty of Prymm interwoven through the ebony and ivory of the ribbons she took flight from. The vision brought a smile to the lips of Palomino as she watched the prot?g? with affectionate fascination and proud pleasure. For a time she could forget what had been. What once was?

Life however was not so sympathetic or forgiving. A voice smooth as dark honey to match the dark beauty on the ground below. The dark beauty that would draw her eyes from Prymm in that moment held not her attention but instead what she held. Elegant fingers danced around the sharp edge of a bladed playing card. Palomino narrowed her eyes in speculation before the sharpened scrutiny of her gaze proved her suspicions.


The Ace of Spades.


As if in acknowledgement of Palomino?s understanding the Enigma herself shot a wink upward towards Palomino. A flick of fingers and something more than parlor tricks left the playing card to disappear.

?So now that you know who I am, I imagine it is time that I confess that I know who? you are, pretty witch.?

Palomino blinked once, twice, revealing nothing and speaking less. The tension would not cut the night with a knife but it did still Prymm?s motion till she was suspended like a fallen angel in mid-air. Breathless. The world was waiting for a response. Palomino?s heart beat a solo melody that begged and ached for the duet it once knew. Where was that song? where was the resolution? the salvation.



Remedy



Gone. Gone. Gone.



Forever was a long time?


It spiraled and twisted. A silk ribbon once so soft upon her flesh felt now to be something to strangle her. Suffocate her.

The enigma who was Sidonie Malloy smiled a bittersweet smile of madness and loss. A heartbreak of a woman never to be the same again. Like the light and the dark it seemed the pair were to be in this moment.

?Should I speak your name? Call it out like the summoning of a clarion call? ?

?No. You know it well enough. No reason to say it out loud?

?Yes of course, names have power.?

?So they do?

The words were spoken with a near angelic descent by the woman that had called herself Palomino since she had been a part of the carnival. The circus itself had ever wielded to those within its employment the opportunity to wear a mask. Sometimes more than one, those pretty facades they all would wear.


For so long Palomino wore her own so well but with an Enigma sudden to become a Spade, all of those facades came falling down and breaking away.


Dark and Light faced off within the shadows and the moonlight where neither of them elected to speak. It was the startled gasp of Prymm and the breathless whisper of a name that sent the silence to shiver on the feathers of ravens and doves, crows and swans.


?Krysanthe??

The name struck a chord, sent the stars to shivering with delight even as the moon itself seemed to increase the brilliant sheen of her light in silent anticipation. Could it possibly be that the one the world had known in the confines of the carnival could be Krysanthe?



Mirror stared awe-struck upon the lithe beauty of a girl even as the fey-slender legs of Poppet brought her ever closer to Mirror.



“It is you, is it not?”



The whimsy of a dream lilted and wrapped its way through the dancing words of the crimson haired girl as the Enigma behind her smiled with the awareness of the knowledgeable. The I told you so smile of a cat swallowing a canary whole was the look the dark born one wore as she looked upon the light born. Mirror had no choice. The illusion dropped, falling to pieces like shattered glass.



The lack of sound of a broken mirror had Poppet shivering as she waited for a response when a looking glass cracking would not provide a shriek or cry.



“Yes.”



Gone were the eyes of golden illusion to leave the celestial blue depths so well known of the Valendria witch. Pale wheat of hair became that of star dust and dreams, and the skin of gold softened to the moon dust sheen of moonstone.



“There in is the truth I was waiting for. If you will excuse me, my life does call.”



A hint of a smile smooth as the stroke of a raven’s wing tucked itself upon the lips of the Enigma that Krysanthe knew as Spade as she made her departure.



The Poppet and the Mirror were left alone.



“So you know then. My name was once Arianrhod Baine to become Mirror and then to take the true namesake of Krysanthe when I became one of the Sisters.”



“The Valendrias.”

“Yes lovely, as you are, as you once were, as you will be.”



Poppet offered the mischief of her smile then as she shook her head, holding still that whim of a secret within the depths of her eyes. Krysanthe could only look on transfixed as the shades of emerald green rippled and trickled into ocean blue only then to become the sweetest mating of earth and sky, land and sea.



“No. I think not. Maybe once. Long ago. But not today. Or tonight. Or ever again.”

“And why is that, dear Poppet.”



There the sprite shining twinkle in her mismatched eyes as the Poppet looked upon the Mirror Lady of Moon and Stars.



“Because I tied a ribbon around the wishing tree… and I will wait. My love has not faded, nor will it wilt or die. He will come.”

“Is that so?”

“Quite so. He will come if I but believe it to be. Just like your Remedy. It is meant to be.”



Krysanthe’s lips parted to voice a response but she found herself unwilling to utter a reply. It seemed that the woman of Smoke and Fog would save them both for the undercurrents of uncomfortable stories as she made her presence known.

“Remedies and Wish Trees… it has always fascinated me how those born within the grace of the Goddess always focus so intently upon such fanciful ideas.”



Her voice was a whispering caress of a breeze that did not exist in the night air. As if formed from the misty fog and the evening shadows Ever stepped from her watchful post to greet Poppet and Krysanthe. Her motions would always seem so effortless and regal, it was always the way of her. The tragic mystery of a story never told.



A faint smile touched her lips as Ever’s haven dark eyes drifted between the two and her fingers touched their shoulders each in turn. What a gathering of radiance the trio made, breathtaking in their individual beauty.



As Ever stood between them she seemed well aware of the visual they made to the carnival grounds for she radiated an aura of peaceful serenity and pride. This was always how it should have been.



“No matter how many years pass to the point where time seems no longer significant… still I find that each of us always hold on to something to offer us hope in otherwise hopeless times. Whether it be an assassin…or a dream.”



Her gaze moved from the Palomino gold and sapphire creature of the Light bringing Valendria to the delicate prim nature of the na?ve Poppet. Calculating and considering Ever weighed them both with the serene judgment of her gaze.



One look of haven dark eyes were directed with unease towards what the shadows hid before she gestured to the women.



“Come. There is something that you need to see and much you need to know.”



“What is it that you would tell us? I always thought you were rumored to be the one forged of Mystery and Secrets.”

“Who said I will not be even after this, dear Krysanthe of the Palomino Light and Silver Wheel?”



A breath of laughter, a whisper kiss of sound before Ever moved to step within the shadows once more. It was left to them to decide if they would follow.