Though the town was small, it was still bustling with activity when Fire finally passed between the first of the buildings. Most of the people strolling along the cobblestoned streets were too busy going about their business to spare Fire more than the barest look, but Fire was too relieved to be seeing anyone at all to care. He was tired of being alone in the wilderness, with no one to keep him company but the local flora and fauna. He needed other people.
Fire stepped off to the side of the street so that he wasn’t in the way when he stopped to rummage through his bag. After a moment, he managed to pull out the thick leather journal that he’d been searching for. He flipped through the scribbles of conversations long past, until he came to the place in the book marked by a folded-up sheet of paper. He unfolded the map and, with a steady hand, marked the path that he had taken to reach this town, along with today’s date. Soon enough, Fire thought, he’d need a new map; this one was starting to get overcrowded with crisscrossing lines and increasingly tight handwriting.
While Fire was still staring down at the map, he heard something over the general hum of the street: a collective gasp, followed by a burst of applause. Curious, Fire glanced up and searched for the source of the sound.
There, just down the street, a crowd had gathered in a circle around something that Fire couldn’t quite see. Fire stuffed his journal and map back inside his bag and crept over for a closer look. Luckily, Fire was tall, so by the time he reached the edge of the crowd, he could see over their heads with minimal craning. He could see just enough to realize that there was some kind of show going on. Beyond that, though, he couldn’t. However, there was one thing he was sure of: he wanted a better look.
Fire pushed his way through the press of people. They were tightly packed, and he accidentally rammed into more than his fair share of spectators in his hurry to get to the front. He offered them all an apologetic little bow or wave. Some of them just turned their attention back to the show after that, but a lot of them took note of the mark under his left eye, and seemed able to guess at its meaning, at least. They followed after him with suspicious gazes, turned to the people next to them, whispered, even pointed at him. Nerves twisted Fire’s stomach into knots. Still, he only smiled in response to their brazen stares, hoping that would be enough to alleviate some of their suspicions, at the very least.
By the time Fire reached the front of the crowd, though, all thoughts of the townsfolk’s nervous looks were wiped from his mind. He was entirely focused on the spectacle before him: a one-man magic show, as far as Fire could tell. Fire watched the purple-haired man with unabashed wonder as he performed his act.
