#prokhor

[queennoty]

My characters

Thank you my friend sparks220stars  for beautiful pictures!

Soon will replenishment.

[alexprophetwritings]

Full Moon

Prokhor took a long drag from his cigarette. Savoring the relaxing tingling that the stick gave him, focusing on the burn, centering himself for just a moment.

This well may be the last moment of peace he would know for a solid 12 hours. The sun had just set and the moon was on its way to raise on the horizon and he had a few precious moments still.

Just a few more.

“I would offer you a drink.”

Prokhor turned to the voice as another joined him, he automatically held out another cigarette for the arrival.

“Thank you, Constance.” Prokhor said as the older woman took the offered cigarette. “I do not think that drink would be a good decision tonight.”

Prokhor took out a match and struck it, holding it out for Constance, pulling his eyes away from the darkening sky to look at the other who had sat next to him. Constance had her long grey hair tied back out of her way, she was wearing some black work clothes with her sleeves pushed up, showing off her thin and boney arms, even in the waning light, the circus master could see the scars in on the underside of those arms.

Her lined face was dark with exhaustion already. He could smell the earthy tones that she always had on nights where she had to do much physical activity. Constance was never a very physical woman, she tired easily and didn’t have much strength to speak of, a hanger on from a long childhood of illness, as she had explained to Prokhor after she had joined up with her traveling circus act.

Prokhor was certain that was only part of the full reason for her weakness in body. Necromancy was not easy on the spirit. No doubt that would manifest in a physical way on the old woman; even one who had stop the evil practice years ago.

“Are we ready?” Prokhor asked after Constance lit the cigarette, blowing out the fire of the match with a quick wave of his hand and tossing the stick away.

“As ready as we ever are on nights like this.” Constance reported. “I have everyone in the safest places they can be. But…”

She took a draw of the smoke. Prokhor knew what she was going to say even without reading her mind.

“I think we are too close to civilization. We should have moved further west before we set down for the night.”

“Yah…” Prokhor agreed with a sigh. “But I couldn’t risk waiting ay longer. What if we were still in motion? We cut it close enough as it is.”

Constance shook her head and didn’t argue. She had given Prokhor her option of the location that they touched down for the evening strongly enough. She knew as well as Prokhor did that it was pointless to argue about it now.

“I just hope everyone stays quiet.” Constance muses out loud, in a tone that was obvious that she didn’t believe that it was a hope she had much weight in.

Prokhor nodded his head, letting the cigarette burn itself shorter in his hand, watching it.

“Who do you think will be the most trouble?” He asked.

Constance let out a laugh, putting out the light as she let out a breathless laugh. “Are we taking bets on which of the circus will fare the worse tonight? That seems to be in bad taste, Prokhor.”

Prokhor found a smile.

“I’m asking honestly.” He explained.

“Well, in that case.” Constance said with a half shrug. “I think it might Divna.”

“Not Dimitre?”

“I gave him something to help him sleep. With luck, he will remain that way through the entire night. And his wife is with him in case anything might happen.” Constance continued. “Artyom always acts like he is going to fall to pieces on nights like this, but I think he is not going to the problem.”

“But Divna? Why do you think she is going to be a problem?”

Constance looked at Prokhor then, meaningfully, turned her eyes to the fading lights from the city that they had left.

“I think she is going to be a problem because we are still to close.”

“We’ll see.” Prokhor said.

“We will see.” Constance agreed. She looked back to the sky and let out a quick sigh, as if bracing for impact. “And we will see soon.”

There on the horizon, the full moon began to light the sky.

“What about you, Constance?”

The older woman looked at her friend.

“What about me?”

“Are you going to be alright tonight?”

She let out a breathless chuckle, looking back at the moon. “It’s been a long time since moon cycles made my blood move faster, Prokhor. The only thing I feel right now is weariness. Mark me; this night is going to get a lot longer before we see the end of it. The last thing you need to worry about is if your resident Fae Doctor is going to raise the dead on top of everything else.”

Prokhor nodded at her and put out the cigarette quickly, heading to the camp that they had set up.

It was time to make the last rounds of the tents before they were out of time.

He knew Constance was right, they were far too close to civilization to ride out the full moon without care… he had to make sure everyone was as secure as they could be.

The first tent that he checked on was where they had Divna, their contortionist. The aero faerie was trapped in a circle of salt and runes that Constance had placed down earlier. The faerie had stripped herself of all her clothing, her translucent wings shuttered and twitched ineffectively, feeling the changes in the air, but was unable to do anything in her prison. She was curled up against Eben, who was sitting in the circle with her; the giant, strong man was cradling her in his arms like a child.

Eben looked up from watching the fearie in his arms when Prokor entered. He nodded his great stone head at his master.

“Is she asleep?” Prokhor asked.

“No.” Eben said, his deep voice has a echoing effect in his chest. It was not unexpected from a Golem, or any other constructed man to sound that that. “Sleep will not come to any this night. It will soon be time.”

“I know… will you be alright in there with her?”

“Yes. She cannot hurt stone with the air.”

Prokhor nodded, looking at the shivering girl in Eben’s arms.

“You don’t suppose I can speak with her?”

“She is angry at you right now, Prokhor.” Eben reported, a little apologetically.

“I will apologize when we see the sunrise.” Prokhor said with a small smile, turning to leave the tent.

His next stop was the dark ‘animal’ tent.

He pushed the curtain aside and saw Dimitre on the ground, his head on Liliya’s lap.

“He is asleep.” Liliya said, not looking up from where she was running her hand through her husband’s black hair. The animal tamer looked exhausted already. “Why didn’t we move further from the city, Prokhor?”

“There was no time.” He answered, keeping a respectful distance from the couple. “I am sorry, but there was no more time. We needed to start getting everyone… locked down, I suppose you could say.”

Liliya sighed, looking up, her normally vibrant green eyes dark in the dim of the tent. “I am sure you did your best… but I still worry.”

“Do you need anyone else here? Anyone to help incase he starts changing?”

Liliya shakes her head gently.

“Just make sure everyone else is alright. I will stay here with my husband.”

Dimitre shifted in his sleep, but his human form still held. Prokhor prayed that it would stay that way. Full moons were not only hard for the fae… but also those who had been cursed by them. He closed the curtain behind him, starting for the other side of the circus grounds.

On his way, he saw the light on in Sonya’s cart, no doubt doing a long minute reading to see if there was any guidance that they should have.

His own cart was lit as well. Taisha, his wife, likely staying up with Innokenti to keep the mute child calm.

The cart he did take the time to stop in was the cart that the trapeze artist shared. Grigori was awake, and on either side of him were the twin fire dancers, his hands on their heads as they slept. The acrobat smiled at Prokhor grimly.

“Just to be safe.” He said as an explanation. “I don’t want any fires starting… like that month.”

The twins, Ildri and Yaroslav looked completely peaceful in their sleep… the circus master hoped they stayed that way. The two elementals were not usually that affected by moon cycles… but it was better to be safe then have another cart singed.

Prokhor left the cart and continued through the fairway… It was then that he heard it.

A loud otherworldly wailing started up from the tent where Divna was being kept. The cry of the contortionist carried over the air, racing out on the four winds.

He broke into a sprint, running as fast as his legs could carry him back to the tent he started with. The light of the full moon was bright enough to light his way, climbing ever higher into the sky, like a curtain rising from the stage. A stage that was not set. A crew that was not ready. Players that did not yet know their lines.

All he had was improvisation. And the first act was knife throwing.

[alexprophetwritings]

Learning to Fear

James had never been afraid in his entire life. 

Fear was a completely foreign concept for the young man, little more than a boy but four times as entitled as the average. James never knew fear, because he always got exactly what he wanted when he asked for it without question.

He couldn’t explain why he did, it was just something that he knew he always could do, and from the moment words were able to form coherently in his mind and he looked his mother in the eyes and made his first demand, and he was always obeyed.

He knew there were limits. He spent most of his childhood seeing exactly how far he could push people to obey him. There were rules that he found. He had to be looking directly into eyes of the person that he was giving the order to. He also had to focus onto some sort of a warm center that he always had in his chest. It was always as natural as breathing for him. It never hurt to use it. In fact, it always left him feeling really good afterwards.

But as for limits? He had never found them. He could ask anyone to do anything and they would. Without question. Without hesitation. He never knew hardship, want, discomfort, denial.

Until the fateful day that the country he lived in went to war a letter arrived in the mail addressed to him. His service was required for his great country.

There was nothing that James wanted less. So he ignored the letter.

But that was not a solution. Soon his home was visited by men in uniforms, inquiring as to why he had not responded. If he was a patriot or a criminal.

James told them to go away and leave him alone.

And they did. But days later another group of men arrived, different ones. Now suspicious and angry as to why their last crew failed in their mission.

James told them all to go away and this time, go tell their superiors that they needed to stop pestering him.

They came armed the next time. Now fearful and sure that something strange was about.

James knew then that the only way he knew how to get out of unpleasant situations was not going to work. He didn’t have any other method.

That was when he decided that he had to run away.

He didn’t take anything with him. He didn’t need to. He could get food and transportation easily enough, but he didn’t have a plan of where he was going to go.

At first he really didn’t think that was going to be a problem, just go somewhere else that wasn’t his house and stay there for a while, then these people would forget all about him and he could go home, if he wanted to.

That wasn’t the case. He was found by the police before he was able to get completely out of town. They knew his face, they knew he was now a wanted man. He deflected their attempts the only way he knew how, but now it was too dangerous to stay there. He was discovering that did have limits, it was hard to use his… well powers, for lack of a batter word over and over again is such quick succession and it was hard to convince a group of people to obey him where he could only focus on one person at a time. The euphoric feels he got in his center started to ache and he felt like he had to fall asleep immediately.

He had to go further than his town. He was raising too much attention to himself.

So, he got himself into a car and drove for hours. He finally stopped when he got to another city. And he really thought he was in the clear.

Except… he didn’t take into account that the car that he took, while he told its owner to give to him, the owners family was less enthusiastic about the decision and reported it as stolen.

James didn’t stay there for long. He was stopped by the police again and this time, rather then pushing them away from him, he thought it would be a good idea to use them.

He ordered them to take him to the next biggest city from here. Surely, he wouldn’t be stopped if the police where taking him somewhere, that was not suspicious.

By the time that James was dropped off in Bloomington, the police that he had used to take him were considered missing and possibly dead, along with the police vehicle that drove them. Even as James got out of the car and told them to forget everything that they had seen about him, he knew that he wasn’t safe.

He needed another plan. Something fast. Something wouldn’t keep him in one place for long.

He was in this exact state of mind when he met Prokhor and the Zaraysk Traveling Panoply of Wonderment for the first time.

James was initially attracted to the circus that was breaking down and preparing to move on from a weekend of entertaining. There was a large enough crowd of people still milling about the activity of the area that he thought to blend in with a crowd. He detested crowds, there was no chance he would be able to control this amount of people at once, he avoided them with a violent passion. But now, he saw the value of their cover and safety.

“Don’t play games with me! I’m not here to play! Does it look like I’m here to play?”

A harsh voice caught James’ attention as he wandered about the closed fairway.

Curious, he followed the voice.

It lead him to a scene, hidden from the view of others by large crates and boxes with various Russian words written on them that James didn’t understand. What he understand was the three armed man in overly fine suits, aiming their weapons as one other man, up against the boxes. He man was tall and thin, his clothing had an odd mismatched look to them. He had the look of a circus performer. He held his hands out in front of himself, trying to look harmless as possible.

“No. No play.” The man said, his voice was thick with a Russian accent. But James could understand the English words without difficulty. “No need for fear. Will have money soon.”

“Yeah? Well ‘money soon’ is not what the boss wants. Boss wants ‘money now!’” The man in the center said, gesturing menacingly with the handgun at the much taller man, mocking his accent as he spoke. “Didn’t your show here just finish up for the weekend? And ain’t you a ring leader of these traveling freaks? Must have made something, eh boss? Give us what you got.”

“Need. I need more time.” The Russian said.

“Pay us. Now. Or it’s gonna get ugly.” The man in the center of the thugs said. “Say, ain’t your wife traveling with you?”

“I will pay. I need more time.” The Russian all but growled out. “Leave crew out of this.”

“Ah, did I strike a nerve, red?” the man said in mock sympathy. “Maybe you should have thought about your crew before you were stupid enough to borrow money without a plan to pay it back! Now, where is the money!”

“What are you talking about? He did pay you.” James said, stepping forward to the group.

“Wanna say that again?” The man in the center said, completely insulted and shocked that some stranger would think to step in-between them.

“Sure.” James said, unconcerned in the slightest at the weapon in the man’s hand pointed directly at him. The man had deep brown eyes and they were already flashing angrily to make contact with James odd ice blue eyes. He had their obvious leader before he could take another breath. He kept walking towards the group, putting himself between the thugs and the Russian. “First of all, you are not going to shoot anyone right now. So, go ahead and lower those weapons before someone gets offended.”

The man in the center, shrugged his shoulders easily and lowered his piece, much to the apparent shock of his two lackeys.

“Johnny, what the hell are you doing?” came a question from a man at his left, but James didn’t dare break the eye contact to address the other very confused men.

“Tell you men to lower their weapons too.” James ordered. “We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“We don’t want anyone to get hurt.” The man in the center, Johnny apparently, repeated. “It’s fine, boys. Put the guns away.”

James could make out their shifting in his peripheral vision but they obeyed and put the guns back into their holsters.

“That’s better.” James said, letting a smile break over his serious face. “We are all friends here, especially since this man has already paid you whatever he owes.”

“What the hell kind of scam you trying to pull here?” The second man asked, his tone was harsh and far beyond confused.

“It’s hardly his fault that you spent all the money that he paid you before you thought to return it to your boss, isn’t it?” James said, keeping eyes locked hard with the enforcer.

“Yeah… I guess it is.” The man muttered back, nodding.

“Johnny! This kid is some sort of freak! Snap out of it!” The man on the left said, drawing out his gun again.

James broke eye contact with the man in the center and grabbed recently rearmed thug on the left.

“But you SAW him receive the money!” James insisted, pouring the instruction into the man’s mind. “It was hard to believe that somehow the red was able to find the money to pay you all back but you’re not one to ask questions like that. You had the money, and you saw Johnny spend every dime of it. That was even more hard to believe, in fact you wouldn’t have believed if, if you hadn’t seen it with your own two eyes.”

The man on the left, lost his breath for a moment, his face twisting from rage to shock and worry.

“This is crazy… I’m getting out of here, man.” The last thug said, almost turning the running away, but James was faster, catching him in his gaze even as he started to feel a tiny discomfort in his center from the strain.

“But you saw it too!” James insisted. “You saw Johnny take the money and you saw him spent it all. All on consumables, but hey, you would definitely say that top shelf whiskey was worth it.”

“Hell yeah, I would.” The man said, relaxing with a small smile on his face.

“Well, I think that you had better get on your way then gentlemen.” James said returning his eyes to Johnny. “After all you have the money to deliver to your boss, or wait… I think you only have excuses to deliver.”

“Damn… we got to get out of here, boys.” Johnny muttered, his face going pale as a sheet as he turned away from James and to the two men that he was standing with.

Without another word the trio hurried away from them.

James felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped, surprised at the contact. He turned and saw the Circus master was standing there behind him, a curious smile on his face. James almost forgot that the man was still standing back there during the whole thing.

“That was… impressive.” The Russian said, holding out his hand for James to shake. “Prokhor.”

“James.” He took the offered hand, but he felt a strange tingling unease start to grow in mind.

“Am not sure how well… how to say гипноз… will be on men like that. But, gesture is welcome.” Prokhor said, with a nod of thanks.

“Yeah, I guess you owe me now. Don’t you?” James said with a grin, a new planning forming in his mind.

“Is fair.” Prokhor said with a small grimace. “Do not have much. What is it you want?”

James looked hard into the eyes of the other man. They were very strange looking, he noted with no small interest. Ice blue. Shockingly so. Like James’.

“I want this circus. Make me your partner. You work for me now.” James said. He wasn’t sure what to do with a circus, but it seemed like a good way to keep moving undercover, at least until they got away from the city.

Prokhor laughed. James froze in place, not sure what went wrong.

“Oh no. That will not happen. Your tricks will not work on me, boy.” Prokhor said, returning his own eyes on James again. “No matter now impressive.”

As James looked into Prokhor’s eyes he felt something like ice cold worms twisting into his core, worming their way into his mind. Searching and digging into his memories. His thoughts.

“No!” James cried out, tearing his eyes away from the eye contact, is breath coming in hard as his heart hammered in his chest, the feeling gone as soon as the link was broken. What was… this feeling?

Prokhor laughed again, this time under his breath, leaning in close to James.

“You are in more trouble them I am.” Prokhor said. “I think, you work for me. Keep moving. Stay out of trouble. Both of us, stay out of trouble.”

James looked up, watching the man’s mouth, nor daring to look into the ice blue eyes of the other, as familiar as his own. It was the first time James wouldn’t dare meet another’s gaze. All he could do was nod his consent to the plan.

“Come.” Prokhor said, another laugh in his voice as he started away. “Much to do.”

It was them that James put a name to this feeling. Why he couldn’t stop shaking. Or why he was sweating. Or why he both wanted to get as far from this Prokhor as possible at the same time that he knew he didn’t dare go far from him.

He was afraid.

52 Short Stories in 52 Weeks

Week 8 – A story set during a war

[alexprophetwritings]

A New Beginning

 “Prokhor! Hurry! You have to see this!”

The young Russian man looked up from where he was sitting with his papers, doing his last minute checks to assure that everything was in order in the meager warmth of the cabin on board the Evangeline. Any others of the passengers were doing the same, but they hardly looked up at the call meant for the man. The trip from St. Petersburg to New York had been a long one and no one was in a mood to be disturbed, perhaps they were all deep in prayers for a respite from Prokhor and his crew of circus performers.

Prokhor saw the speaker was his wife, a young woman with a funny face and wide eyes that took in the world like there was a secret punch line that she was waiting to find. She had on her warmest dress and a thick head scarf to block out the cold Atlantic air, but her nose was flushed pink from wind.

“Come on, Prokhor!” She called up to him.

Prokhor folded up his papers and secured them in his jacket pocket and stood to follow his wife out of the cabin.

The sea air hit him full in the face as soon as he stepped out and made him pull his jacked in closer in against the cold. He was glad that he hadn’t shaved since the voyage started, his dark beard was warm and comfortable.

“This way! Hurry!” His wife called, waving him over to the railing of the ship, the wind tugging at her scarf and skirt.

Prokhor closed the distance and stood with her at the rails, he placed an arm around her and she nestled closer into his chest, sighing happily to share his warmth.

“Do you see it?” She asked excitedly, pointing out over the ocean.

Prokhor tired to take in what she was gesturing to when he saw a glimmer of a green spire in the distance.

“I see something out there, Taisha…” He said, squinting against the bright sunlight as he peered at the object out in the ocean. “But I can’t make it out.”

“We are almost there.” Taisha breathed. “Finally. We are almost there.”

They stared at the object for the while as it very slowly came nearer.

“You should go get the others.” Taisha said with a grin.

“Why?” Prokhor asked.

“We should all see it together!” Taisha said with a laugh. “America is almost here. We should all see it together! Hurry. Find the others.”

Prokhor let out a quick but happy sigh at the suggestion. At the very least he should let the rest of his troupe know that they were nearing the port and they should prepare themselves. Checking papers and making sure they had account of their traveling cases that they had brought with them.

Giving Taisha a small squeeze he moved away from her warmth and went to locate the rest of his circus.

-

It was not hard to find them, even though the ship was large, there were not many places that they were welcome to travel about. And, while the journey was without trouble externally, they had found ways to rub their fellow passengers the wrong way from time to time, as the cooped up performers got progressively more bored on their journey.

He found the first of his crew right where he had left them that morning, in the common quarters trying desperately to keep to themselves. Grigori, the only acrobat from the original troupe that was willing to go with Prokhor on his journey to America, saw the man enter the common room gave him a tired smile. The two other’s that he was sitting with turned. Liliya, the animal tamer and Sonya, the fortune teller.

“All’s well, Prokhor?” Liliya asked, her dark eyes taking in his face with concern.

“So far.” Prokhor recounted with a half smile at the other. He was happy to see Liliya out with the others. She spent most of her time on the ship keeping their ‘special cargo’ company in the storage under the ship. She looked far paler and less healthy for her time doing so, which little surprise to him. The monstrous creature that they called Dimitre was not pleased to being transported over the water. The only way to keep him calm was for Liliya to remain at his side most of the time, only able to escape when the cursed man fell asleep.

“You should all be sure that your papers are in order.” Prokhor when on, tearing his eyes away from fretting over Liliya, once they made it to land and they all got solid ground under their feet they would be stronger. “It seems that we are nearing land.”

“God. Finally.” Grigori cheered, his grimace of a smile turning into a real beaming grin that he was known for. He was handling the voyage better than most of the circus. Things had to be very wrong for Grigori to be caught in a foul mood.

“Can you see the city yet?” Sonya asked, pulling out her folded papers from her worn purple and black dress. Prokhor noticed that she had done quite a bit of repair work on it these past few days. Sonya was typically the guardian of two rather rowdy twin siblings and their time in the cramped quarters of the ship did nothing to help settle them. Prokhor wasn’t sure she would be able to get the scorch marks out of the fabric.

“Not yet.” Prokhor answered. “There is something out there; it’s too far to make it out just yet.”

“Is it the statue?” Grigori asked, excitedly.

Prokhor just shrugged at that. The gesture was enough to send the gathered into motion. Liliya dug out her papers and rushed from the table, heading down to the storage hold. Grigori and Sonya started for the deck.

-

Prokhor followed after Liliya, heading to the lower cabins on the ship to where the circus had their ‘private’ quarters. They were on a sleep rotation so that everyone could get some rest to themselves rather than pile all twelve people into one room. It wasn’t ideal, but it was survivable.

Prokhor got to the room and rapped on the outside of the door. Their lock didn’t work so they had formed a sort of barricade behind it to prevent people from sneaking in and out of their quarters. The only down side to it was that the when the doors were shut, no one could get in without waking the sleepers inside.

The door opened only seconds after Prokhor knocked. A very frantic looking Artyom was inside. His normally sharp and clean appearance was in turmoil and his mustache in a desperate need of wax.

“Oh! Prokhor!” Artyom, the circus’ ‘master of illusion,’ cried out as soon as his eyes fell on the ringmaster. “Thank heavens you are here! Hurry! You must get in here!”

Prokhor was not swept in by the overblown tone of the other man. If Artyom was not crying with some sort of invented crisis, Prokhor would have assumed something was truly wrong.

Artyom pushed the door open the rest of the way and Prokhor went inside to see that the twins were in the cabin as well. The two looked over at Prokhor as he entered. Both had their fire red hair fastened down in a way that made them look far younger than their fifteen years. Ildri, the girl, gave Prokhor a warm smile but her brother, Yaroslav, only looked relieved to see the ringmaster.

“Prokhor, you have to stop him.” Yaroslav demanded, gesturing helplessly to the state of his hair. “I look like a child!”

Prokhor lifted his hand to hide a smile. The boy was little more than a child, but he wasn’t about to provoke this situation any further.

“Artyom, what are you doing?” Prokhor asked, his voice controlled to keep the giggle out.

“Prokhor,” Artyom started, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself, then held out his arm to present the twins to the other. “Just LOOK at these two. They are skinny. They are pale. They look like they might collapse at any second!”

“I suppose they look a little worse for wear.” Prokhor commented while he took in the state of his two fire dancers. “But I could say the same for all of us. Not to mention yourself, Artyom. You look terrible.”

“I KNOW!” Artyom cried out, pressing his hands up through his hair in dismay. “I’m a tragedy!”

Taking a deep breath, Artyom placed his hands purposely at his sides, then leveled Prokhor his most severe stare that a sharp nose and dark eyebrows could allow and continued:

“As bad as I look, this is not about me.”

“That might be the first time I have ever heard you say that.” Prokhor interrupted.

“Prokhor! Please! This might be life and death!”

Prokhor forced himself not to roll his eyes. “Ok, Artyom. Please tell me how this is a life and death situation.”

“They look sickly!” Artyom bit.

“They look like they have been on a boat for weeks with very limited chances for bathing.”

“Don’t you hear what I am saying, Prokhor!” Artyom cried, baffled that he could be making light of this. “If they look sickly, they are never going to pass inspection!”

A sharp spike of fear shot through Prokhor at that. He had forgotten about the rumored inspection when they would arrive on shore. As he stared at the twins again the possible critiques against them started to populate in his mind.

“I will be fine once we make landing.” Artyom went on. “But those two? I do not think a second wind will come as easily!”

“We are not sick!” Ildri said, indignant. “And even if we were. I do not see how making us look like children will help us pass any sort of test.”

“Many things can be excused because a child is young!” Artyom argued back. “And besides, people are more sympathetic to children!”

“This plan is as stupid as you made us look.” Yaroslav folded his arms in front of him and leveled an angry amber eyed glare at their magician.

Prokhor was hardly listening to them. His mind rushed to his wife. How did Taisha look, was she healthy looking? What about Liliya, he knew she did not look well at all. Would they be separated once they got to shore? Would anyone be sent back? All the worse scenarios played out in his mind, one on top of the other.

“You can fix this.” Prokhor said, leveling a commanding stare at Artyom.

“Me?” Artyom asked back, looking taken aback. “Did you just say that I, Artyom the Magnificent, can fix this?”

“Yes.” Prokhor said again, his mouth working to catch up with his mind. “You are our illusionist, you can cast an illusion over us. Masking any possible imperfections.”

Artyom let out a strained and strange laugh.

“Yes, I suppose I could do that, except there is one very large problem with your plan.”

“That being?”

“Perhaps you have forgotten how my powers work. I would not blame you for, it has been frightfully mind numbing, this whole experience. Almost made me regret agreeing to go along with you at points…”

“Why won’t it work, Artyom?”

“I can’t work my illusions when I am on the water! I hate this blasted element! How am I supposed to work with it all around me? You think I would look like this on purpose?” Artyom gestured to all of himself as if he was the ugliest work of art anyone had ever brought forth into the world. “I can’t even keep myself together, let alone anyone else! No, Prokhor. The only way to fix this will be good, old fashioned, make up and wardrobe!”

Prokhor forced himself to put the fears in the back of his mind. Artyom clearly had a plan. Artyom’s plans, while often far more complicated then they needed to be, had a high success rate. He didn’t have time to worry about them, he had to find the rest of the circus.

“Whatever you are planning, you had better do it quickly.” Prokhor said turning toward the door again.

“Are we almost there?” Ildri asked, her face brightening again. Even her brother looked hopeful at the suggestion.

“We are almost there.”

-

Prokhor knew he had to find Liliya again. The threat of inspection was hanging over him and she was the first person that flew into his mind, her dark eyes, the dry patches on her skin, her thin and paleness. The twins would be fine; Artyom was worrying himself over nothing, as usual, but Liliya? Prokhor had to find her.

It was while he was on his march to the lower levels that he saw Antoliy and his little sister, Pasha. The tall tattooed man was down on one knee in front of the little dark haired child, he had their papers in his hands, talking to her in a low voice.

Prokhor wasn’t sure if he should just walk by them, but Pasha looked up and saw him and ducked into her brother. The other man looked up, his eyes dark with suspicion and challenge. When he recognized Prokhor, the expression softened, into a curious frown and he picked his little sister up and turned to face the ringmaster.

“Prokhor.” Antoliy said with a small head bow. “I hear we are nearly to America.”

“Yes.” Prokhor returned the bow, a little formally. “The trip is almost over.”

Antoliy looked over at his sister who just hid her face into his shoulder. He sighed, then turned his eyes back to Prokhor.

“Thank you. Again. For bringing us with you.” Antoliy said.

“You do not need to keep thanking me, Antoliy.” Prokhor said. “I would do what you can to clean yourselves up before we arrive.”

Antoliy nodded in understanding and walked on to the quarters. Prokhor watched his back for a moment, Pasha twisting around to keep an eye on him. They were a strange pair. Prokhor only know Antoliy from his reputation, which was a brutal and savage enforcer for a dangerous family, but when he came to Prokhor and begged him to take his sister to America with them, he didn’t know how to refuse and took them both.

Antoliy assured him that he was an accomplished acrobat, but Prokhor had yet to see his audition. For now, it was enough to have another person traveling with them, especially one who was not afraid of a fight.

-

Prokhor was not stopped on his way into the cargo to where the ‘live animals’ for the circus were being kept. The men who watched the area knew just about everyone in the circus by first name they saw them so often.

He couldn’t help but be heartened by the sight the greeted him in the hold. Too often he came into the hold to find their little contortionist, Divna, laying face down on the large crate that held Eben, moaning and muttering soft curses in an ill sounding tone. The small aero faerie did not travel well over long distances and she did exceptionally badly over water.

But not today.

Today, Divna was sitting up on the crate, bobbing her head happily in the dim light from the lamp that Liliya brought with her to illuminate the windowless hold. Liliya was over to the right of the hold where Dimire sat in a large open bar cage.

“We are almost there, Eben.” Divna said out into the air, her tone still sounded ill but at least she looked more energetic. “That day you have been telling me about for as long as I can remember.”

“That is not such a long time,” Prokhor commented, walking over to where she was sitting on top of the crate, “when you have a week long memory.”

There came a deep rumble from the box that she sat on.

“That is so rude, rocks for brains!” Divna scolded, smacking the side of the box with her heals. “Eben says I have a just a WEAK memory! I say we leave him on the ship forever!”

“You would be very unhappy if I did that.” Prokhor said with a smile. “Besides, we what kind of circus would we be with a strong man?”

Divna seemed to consider that conundrum for a moment.

“A circus must have a strong man. We will keep Eben. Until we can hire one that isn’t made out of stone.” Divna suggested.

There was another rumble in the crate and Divna giggled and patted the top of the box contentedly.

“We are almost there.” She said, closing her eyes in the darkness. “I can feel the land getting closer. We are almost there.”

Prokhor moved away from her and went to where Liliya was sitting in front of the cage. She had a hand in between the bars as she stroked the head of the creature that was trapped inside. Prokhor always found that he was surprised with the way that Dimitre looked. Three days ago, he appeared to be a bear with a lions mane and tiger stripes. Today he looked to be a black wolf the size of a bear. He rested with his eyes open, watching Prokhor as he moved closer to Liliya. When he got within three feet of Liliya, the wolf growled weakly and stood.

“Dimitre. Shhh. Be calm.” Liliya soothed.

Dimitre let out an unhappy huff, but flopped back down onto the hard flooring of the cage. Prokhor felt a twinge of sympathy for the cursed man. He had been unable to hold a consistent shape since they left St Petersburg and any human shape was completely out of the question. His curse had full control of him. The most Liliya could do was keep him from hurting himself on the iron bars around him.

“Liliya.” Prokhor started, looking at the woman worriedly. “We need to talk.”

“The only thing you need to do it let poor Rasputin out for a while. Poor thing is cramped from being in that cage.” Liliya said with a tired smile, turning to face Prokhor.

She looked even worse in the poor lighting in the cargo. Her face was shallow and the dark rings around her eyes looked like bruises.

“I am fine, Prokhor.” She said, her smile fading. “It is nothing a good rest will not fix. The land will calm Dimitre and then I will be able to rest easy.”

“I thought I was the mind reader.” Prokhor teased, trying to keep his tone lighter than his heart felt as he went to where their capuchin monkey, Rasputin, was waiting impatiently to be let out.

Prokhor unlocked the latch and the little monkey scampered out of his cage and climbed up the tall circus performer in record time, chirping happily and immediately setting to grooming Prokhor’s hair.

“Liliya.” Prokhor started again. “What are you going to do about inspection?”

“I think that once Dimitre is on land, he will be able to hold the wolf shape for a while. I do not think you have to worry about him.”

“I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about you.”

Liliya raised an eyebrow at him. “Me? Why? I’m fine.”

“I am worried that you will not be allowed to land with us. There will be a physical inspection before we disembark.”

“And who told you this?”

“Artyom.”

Liliya scoffed.

“I trust him on this one Lili.” Prokhor said. Letting her old childhood nick name slip out without meaning to.

“I would be more concerned with that stowaway that Taisha has picked up.” Liliya said, turning back to Dimitre, a sullen edge to her voice. “That little wretch isn’t going to be going anywhere with us if there is any sort of inspection.”

Prokhor flinched at the reminder. ‘Innokenti’ was the name that Taisha gave the child when they found the skinny stowaway on board with them. The ship’s crew was furious, but Taisha claimed it as one of the children that they brought with them. Prokhor also agreed. It was a lie, but he couldn’t well sit by and let violence come to a child, no matter how desperate they appeared.

Since then, the child was never far from Taisha’s side. Innokenti was like her shadow. A silent shadow. Never saying anything. Shying away whenever someone reached for them. Thin and mute. Prokhor had caught small glances of a scar on the child’s neck, but was never able to get close enough to see exactly what it was.

If Liliya even had a chance of failing the inspection, Innokenti most certainly would not.

“Taisha will be heartbroken.” Prokhor said.

“So will you.” Divna chimed in from her eavesdropping.

Prokhor turned to look at the girl who giggled and continued.

“Eben says that Taisha claimed the kid. If Innokenti doesn’t pass inspection, she will have to go back with them. They won’t send a child back without their parent.” Divna explained.

Prokhor was in motion before the thought fully processed, he didn’t even realize that Rasputin was still perched on his shoulder until he was on the main deck, looking for Taisha. There was a larger crowd then when he had left, it seemed that most of the passengers were there, all silent in awe.

Looking for a familiar height, Prokhor saw Antoliy standing a good head above everyone else. He had to find Taisha. He weaved into the crowd, keeping his eyes low, looking for the familiar head scarf.

It was while he was searching that he felt someone take hold of his hand. He looked and saw Taisha, her eyes damp.

“Taisha, we need to do something about Innokenti. I have heard-”

“Prokhor… look…” Taisha whispered, looking away from Prokhor and up past the rails.

The man turned his eyes out over the water. There, with flame in hand and a book in the other, her head adorned with a spiked crown, stood the statute. The sightless eyes looked out to them, as if welcoming them to their new life.

Prokhor felt tears in his own eyes, the stresses and fear that had beset him only moments ago placed on pause. They were nearly there. So far away from his homeland. So far away from his family that he left behind to start a new life here. A new life with no assurance other then the vague guidance of his friend and future seer.

Prokhor gripped Taisha’s hand tightly. He had no words to say, no thoughts to think. A new life for them was about to start and suddenly it felt all too real. All he could do was hold on to her until the world caught back up to him.

It was time for a new beginning.

52 Short Stories in 52 Weeks Challenge

Week 1 – A story entitled “A New Beginning”