Chapter Text
“OH, um. I’m, I’m loo-king for, um, Sanctuary?” Yasha tried.
Molly’s grin widened. He nodded. “Of course, dear. We’re all looking for somewhere safe at the end of the road. How many cards would you like in your spread?”
Yasha blinked. As someone is wont to do when put on the spot, her mind went completely blank. Molly always used a three card spread for customers. He used other standard spreads only if asked (and bullshitted his way through ones he never heard of.) He never asked for how many cards someone wanted. Tension seized her shoulders.
Kingsley smiled. “You know, Tarot cards are a lot like people, Yasha dear. They have their own personalities, ideas, and feelings. And they are bloody little sarcastic shits,” he quipped, smirking. “Think about the people important to you, right now. Perhaps that will give you a clue of how many cards we need? Remember to include yourself now, dear. After all, this is your reading.”
Oh. That made sense. “Um, seven, I think?” Yasha answered.
Molly nodded. “That’s doable,” he hummed. “And of course, this reading is free of charge.” Yasha let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her resources were dwindling in the face of keeping a small group of people fed, supplied, and out of sight.
While the style of reading was slightly off from what Yasha remembered, the way the cards moved through Kingsley’s fingers was not. The cards moved with a deft purpose through his skillful hands. They were cut and shuffled in intricate patterns. Sometimes part of the deck disappeared, only to reappear on the table, or in his other hand. More than once he threw cards from one hand to the other. He preened under her admiration. He finished shuffling them with a flourish. The deck disappeared completely, leaving seven cards in a pile on the table.
“There we are, Seven Saints to light your path,” Kingsley mused. He placed the top three cards in line, then added the other four below it, all still face down.
Molly flipped the first card in the top row. “You recognize this one,” he announced. “The Hermit. The woman wanders the maze with purpose, seeking a place to rest. She knows she will find it eventually, even though she has been aimless and lost for a while.” He revealed the next card. The art depicted a city made of crystalized northern lights. It was surrounded by a barren landscape. “The Oasis, a place of light and life in the dark. A promise of respite after your long journey,” he reassured. Reversed, the card read ‘Illusion’ and the city faded into nothing more than obscure clouds. He flipped the last card in the top row, and Yasha felt warmth bloom in her chest. “The Star. Always important to remember the reverse of this one,” fondness colored his tone. He tapped the bright, colorful star rising above a raging storm. “You will see the stars again, even after the most raging storms. While violent, the storm can also be rejuvenating. A balm for a soul that's wandered beneath an unforgiving sun for too long. After hardship all things are made new.”
He flipped over the last four. “These represent what you need to keep in mind for this journey.” The first card read Gambit/Riches, showing dice rolling on a pile of coins and jewels. “You have to keep the risks of what you're doing in mind. But the rewards could outweigh the risk.” The next was Love/Rumor, and Yasha smiled at the depiction of her and Beau in a friendly duel, weapons crossed. Beau had an open journal in one hand, and it was full of scribbles. Love was upright. “You are protecting love, and family. The Rumor seeks the truth in all things, breaking down all the lies threatening their Love.” Yasha smiled, tears in her eyes. The third was the ‘The Tower' was facing upright. Reversed, it read ‘Possibility.’ It showed a crumbling tower, large spherical chunks gone in black holes. At its base, was a dodecahedron with stars in its center. “Upheaval, reckoning, and disaster. This journey still has the potential to be deadly. Think carefully before you follow this path. But where will it lead?” Kingsley asked. The last card was ‘Judgement,’ and the ‘Tyrant.’ The art was different, but Yasha still felt her throat go tight. “This is the final goal. Judgement.” Upright, the card presented a group of ordinary people overthrowing a tyrannical red dragon-born Queen. Reversed, the Tyrant gloated over the shattered people. “I think it speaks for itself.”
Yasha took a moment to process the card reading. Her gaze kept shifting to the Love/Rumor card. Her hand hovered over it, questioning eyes meeting Kingsley's. At his encouraging nod, she touched it reverently. Molly rested his chin on one hand, the elbow propped up on the table. His tail swished in a patient arc behind him, adding a gentle chime to the room from his jewelry. A somber mood fell over the tent. Yasha nodded. “I think I understand.”
Molly smiled. The cards were swept off the table, and disappeared to wherever he was keeping the deck. “Spend some time with these Seven Saints, and make peace with them.” Make sure your party knows what we are offering, and the inherent risks. “As much as I would love to catch up,” he sang, brightening the mood. “I have other customers to attend to. Though I doubt any will be as entertaining as you are, dearest.” They both stood, Kingsley coming around the table to give her another hug. “Come find me after tonight’s show,” he whispered. “I’m staying in the purple and blue caravan with another old friend. Bring your Saints, and we’ll get this sorted out.” He paused, and held her tighter. “I promise we’ll find the Unpleasant One, Yasha. Whatever it takes.” She hugged him back, a shaky sigh escaping her lips.
“Okay.”
Molly watched Yasha’s exit, amusement on his face, and relief in his heart. He had tried everything to find the Nein. Especially after his memories started coming back. There was so much he wanted to share with them. Seeing Yasha again, and knowing why she was important, was like a balm on his tattered soul.
Kingsley felt something nudge his heart, friendly and familiar. Like seeing the stars wink into existence when the sun dipped below the horizon. He smiled.
“Hello Midnight,” he called softly.
Midnight stepped out of the shadows, their white on black eyes flashing in the magical light. He shuffled his cards idly while they settled themselves down across the table. They were dressed in traveler’s clothing, and lacked their usual jewelry. So, trying to be discreet, Molly noted. Well, as discreet as Midnight could get, given their appearance. Their skin was like the night sky, the darkest of blue, with a scattering of white freckles across their face and shoulders, like stars. Their deer-like antlers, dark near their head and fading to a light blue at the tips, curled over a silver, braided undercut. It matched the tuff of fur at the end of their slender tail. Silver scales hid beneath their jacket. They were also almost as tall as Yasha. With all these characteristics, their race was as ambiguous as their gender. People often mistook them for a tiefling. Kingsley certainly had upon their first and, well, second-first meeting. In their, or her, or hisーpronouns didn’t matter to themーperformance clothes, Midnight stood out like the sun on a cloudless day. Granted, being in the circus meant they were surrounded by ostentatious people. Despite this, when Midnight wanted to go unnoticed, they did. It helped that they could travel through shadows.
Midnight rested their chin on their hands. “Yasha looked exhausted,” they noted.
Molly hummed, nodding. “Hopefully, we can offer her more than a place to rest,” he answered. Several things were left unsaid between the pair. Kingsley knew the look in Yasha’s eyes. The weight of fear and loss, mingled with relief at seeing him safe and sound. It worried him. He knew little of the Cobalt Soul, but he knew Beau. She wouldn't have let them hang Yasha out to dry. Yasha was also following the Crescent Moons without Beau, which boded even worse. He couldn’t see either of them leaving the other to do something this dangerous. At least not without a way to contact the other. Midnight frowned into the distance. They had been trying to find the Mighty Nein for Molly, with limited success. They either found information about his friends outright, or there was nothing. Molly knew they were coming to the same conclusion as he was. Things were far more dire than either had realized before. Neither dared voice these thoughts out in the open. Far too many of their customers were also nosy Crownsguard or curious hyper-loyalists. Or worse, Righteous Brand on leave.
If Midnight clocked the anxious twitch of Kingsley’s tail, or the frantic shuffling of his cards, they didn’t say. Midnight’s tail wrapped around his ankle under the table, and squeezed lightly. A reassuring gesture, and one he was happy to return.
The heavy silence was broken by Midnight’s quiet: “How much are you going to tell her?”
He sighed. “Not much more than I already have, I’m afraid.” Midnight cocked her head. “I..I don’t,” he started. “She’s going through some shite herself. She doesn’t need to be burdened with mine.” A half truth he knew Midnight would let go. "You're sure Beau wasn't with her?" Midnight nodded, and Kingsley hung his head. The cards stilled. He was half tempted to draw three just to see what would happen.
“She has a deep connection to the Storm,” Midnight began.
Molly raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
The look Midnight gave him told him all he needed to know. “Do you think it’s safe for her to be with us?” Midnight asked.
“Cirque de la Lune, or you and I specifically?” he quipped. Midnight’s gaze was withering, and completely neutral. It was one of their talents. He shrugged. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. Yasha is the last person on Exandria who needs someone to protect her. If she wants to get in on this bloody mess, she is more than welcome to. Or she can go.” Kingsley felt his chest tighten at the thought, and did his best to push the emotion aside.
Midnight smiled. “Heavens help anyone who tries to stop Yasha from doing what she wants to do.” Molly let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I’ll pass the word along to the others about the Seven Saints.” They stood, walked around the table, put a hand on Kingsley’s shoulder, and kissed his forehead. “We’ll keep her safe. I promise. And we'll find the rest.”
Yasha gathered her traveling companions shortly after her visit with Molly. The group consisted of two half elves. They were the proud adoptive mothers of a teenage tiefling who hadn’t quite figured out their gender, and a four year old female half-orc. When Yasha first met the family, they didn’t follow Kord. They were accused of consorting with dark powers to gain their children, and chased from their village. They now thanked Kord for Yasha and her protection. The male dwarf and non-binary human were barely adults when they escaped from a secret Stormlord temple's destruction. They were training to clerics. Their limited healing had come in handy on more than one occasion.
Yasha told them all she had learned, in cryptic and quiet whispers. The group’s consensus was that despite the risks, there was nothing to lose, and any chance they had was a small miracle.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. They disassembled their campsite before they headed off to the big tent for the night. Yasha hardly registered watching the show, anticipation and worry swelling in her gut. She doubted she would have moved from her seat afterwards if not for a gentle tugging on her arm by one of the half elves. Yasha’s eyes flicked across the ring and met Molly’s. He was standing at the entrance to ‘backstage.’ He flashed her a grin, saluting. She watched the shadows seem to gather around him. Yasha blinked, and he was gone.
“Okay,” she said, looking at her weary companions. “Let’s go.”
The group picked their way out of the seating area, moving with an ease born of brutal necessity. They made their way behind the big tent, unnoticed and unbothered by the crowds of people flocking home. Behind the main tent were caravans and tents surrounding at least five large campfires. The staff and performers gave them reassuring smiles as they passed. Yasha’s gaze flitted over caravans that were every color combination except purple and blue. Seeing Yasha's searching gaze, a dragonborn juggler stopped mid-practice. He winked at them and pointed to the far northern corner of the camp. Yasha nodded her thanks, and adjusted their direction.
They left the cheery light and noise of a circus troupe winding down. Something Yasha hadn’t realized she missed until that moment. Fletching and Moondrop felt like ages ago. The easy warmth behind her was similar her old friends. She remembered the happy afterglow of a show well done with fondness. Sort of. They all tended to get drunk while celebrating good nights when the circus brought in a lot of money. But the feelings were still there.
The purple and blue caravan loomed into view. Slightly isolated, it was neither plain, nor grand. Thee only decoration was some glowing painted designs, and two crescent moons on the door. Yasha’s dark vision picked up a few large round objects at various distances around the caravan. These morphed themselves into practice targets once they came closer.
Her traveling companions balked at the sight of the caravan, and the two figures in front of it. Molly was sitting on its’s steps. He was having an animated conversation with another figure, clad in a white coat, with the hood up. Something about them was familiar to Yasha. They brought back the same feelings of warmth and home that the camp behind her had. White on black eyes peeked out of the hooded cloak. A smile blazed across the figure's face at the sight of Yasha.
“Hi Yasha!” the figure sang.
“Midnight?” Yasha questioned.
Kinsley’s laughter crackled. It broke the tension in the air.
“It’s been far too long, Love,” Midnight said, a knowing look in her eye.
Yasha nodded, still bewildered. “Since you left Fletching and Moondrop.” A smile crept its way up Yasha’s face. “You finally kept the promise you made to Gustave.”
“Oh, I remember it being more of a threat. But yes. Left in the middle of the night, no warning, no good-bye, and joined the Cirque de la Lune like an idiot!”
“One good-bye,” Molly stated, stretching. Midnight rolled her eyes, all drama.
“Do they let you perform?” Yasha searched, voice quiet.
Midnight’s smile widened. “They do!” she laughed. Kingsley gave Midnight a proud smile. Yasha’s heart soared. Midnight had longed for the spotlight for as long as Yasha knew her. She was a damn good trick shooter and aerial acrobat. Gustave had been vehemently against it. He always stated it was too dangerous for the young archer, which frustrated Midnight to no end. One day, Yasha returned from her wanderings to find Molly sullen, Gustave sporting a black eye, and Midnight gone. “I’m currently on break, but I’ll be performing again when we get to the next town! Right now I’m using my...other skills.” She smirked. “Honestly, Cirque de la Lune is a better fit for...hmmm, someone like me.
“And what sort of person is someone like you,” one of the half-elves bit out. They pulled their daughter closer to their chest.
Midnight's eyes softened. “Someone who wants to help people, and has a very specific skill set to do so. I’m Midnight,” she bowed. “Any pronoun goes. My gender changes so much I can barely keep up with it. That’s Mollymauk or Kingsley; he has all the gender all the time, and goes by all pronouns. This mess” she gestured to the camp, “is Cirque de la Lune.”
Mollymauk gave a flamboyant bow to the Stormlord followers. “We’ll get into details once everyone is inside,” he said.
Midnight produced a key from thin air, and unlocked the caravan door. The key disappeared in much the same way. She held the door open with the same expression she had the time she and Molly had dyed all of Gustave’s white shirts teal. Gustave hated teal. Gustave had also, allegedly, deserved this. Yasha narrowed her eyes at the mischievous archer, whose grin only widened in response.
Kingsley strolled in first. Yasha followed him into the soon to be crowded interior of the caravan. It looked empty, save a few quivers of arrows and some extra rigging. Yasha was less than enthusiastic about spending an extended period of time in here. It would be difficult to fit three people in here, let alone seven. The others came to the same conclusion. They dragged their feet after Yasha, grumbling. Midnight brought up the rear and closed the door.
“Everyone’s here?” she asked, her stage voice shining. Grousing assertion answered here. “Excellent!” She clapped her hands together, giddy with excitement. “Molly, dearest? Would you please open the other door?”
“With pleasure,” he purred.
Kingsley said a word in infernal. On the opposite wall, four lines of silver light connected. Molly pushed the new door open. He beckoned their guests into the true interior of the place with a flourish.
The door opened into a living room with plush black couches lining three of the four walls, small tables at their ends. In the center, a low coffee table sat on a plush white and grey rug. Above the couches were shelves with books and knick-knacks. In the far right corner, an island with six chairs separated the living room from the kitchen. Yasha watched soup prepare itself over the stove, and wondered how many unseen servants were in the room. Next to the kitchen, was a table piled with art supplies. In the kitchen/dining room space, two doors were separated by a cupboard that displayed intricate ceramic dishware. Yasha could not see where they led.
“Oh thank fuck,” she whispered. Yasha walked confidently into the room and took a seat on one of the couches.
“Go on, go on, I promise its safe. Yes there are invisible people preparing some food for everyone. Sit wherever you like!” Midnight invited, pushing the rest of the group into the living room. “I’ve less than ten minutes to explain everything, so please take a seat.” The group settled, even if wide eyes continued to wander around the room.
Midnight strode to the center of the room. “I am going to activate an object that will cast a spell called Zone of Truth. Please allow it to take effect. Molly and I will both be allowing this. Everyone who is under the effect of the spell will glow light yellow. If you do not allow this spell to take effect, you will be asked to leave once it is over. If you lie, the glow will turn red,” Midnight explained. Everyone nodded. It was not the first time this had happened while they were following the Moons. She touched a round object sitting on the coffee table. Yasha let the effect take hold, and was pleased to note her six traveling companions were also glowing. “I am the color pink,” Midnight announced and her glow turned red for a moment. “That’s how the spell works,” she stated, while fading back to yellow.
“This space exists outside of the Prime Material Plane, which means it’s difficult for prying eyes to see in,” Midnight explained. “It's safe to speak freely here.” She did not turn red. Midnight asked each of the group (minus the sleeping half orc) their names, what their purpose was, and if they were in any way working for the Empire. She also asked a few other pointed questions to gauge their trustworthiness. No one failed.
After all her questions were answered, Midnight pulled out a pendant from around her neck. It was a crescent moon strung like a bow. “Molly and I follow the Moonweaver. As do many of Cirque de la Lune. Many of us also follow the Archheart, the Allhammer and the Changebringer. As you all know, three of these deities are banned inside the Empire. Cirque de la Lune was created with the purpose of helping people being wrongfully oppressed. We recover things that stolen by people the Empire’s laws won’t prosecute. We take down corruption where we find it. We help smuggle worshippers of unapproved deities to places where they can be safe.
“Which, as followers of Kord, is what you are,” Midnight continued. The people shuffled uneasily. “Be at peace. I won’t turn you in for something that isn’t a crime,” Midnight smiled. “This smuggling effort has been significantly stepped up, given recent events.”
“You have four options,” Kingsley picked up. “We can get you somewhere you can start a new life, with some resources to help you along. This means never returning to the Empire. Next option: we take you somewhere to wait out the Empire’s current wave of violence. This has a medium risk. There’s no guarantee this place stays hidden, or that the Empire will ever end its current rampage.”
“To be completely honest,” Midnight sighed. “My sources are saying the opposite. Things are about to get worse. However, I believe there is a chance you can return to your lives from before this mess started. Yet, it's going to take years.”
“The next option is the most dangerous,” Molly continued. “You can join Cirque de la Lune, or our network. This requires training we will provide to you, in whatever capacity you wish to join in. Healing, message running, performances, and a bunch of not-so-legal shiーstuff.” He amended as the half-elves glared at him.
“The biggest risks include dying or getting caught,” Midnight stated. “We do keep records of everyone who passes through our doors, in code, in locations like this one. We can take your information down, or use our ledgers to help you, if you are looking for someone.”
“We can also take you outside and replace the last ten minutes of your memory with us saying you can travel with the carnival, then get you on a boat,” Molly added. “Any takers?” No one volunteered. “Eh, there never are,” he said breezily.
The spell ended soon after. “I can activate that again, if anyone would like to ask questions,” Midnight offered. People shook their heads. “Very well. Lets get you all some food.”
The unseen servants began passing out bowls of soup and cups of tea. The meal began awkwardly. This was broken by the force that was Mollymauk Tealeaf. Yasha smiled as he animately told the group highly embellished stories of his time at Fletching and Moondrop, with the Mighty Nein, and at sea. He had them all laughing along in no time flat. The group’s tiefling stared at Kingsley with stars in his eyes. They asked rapid fire questions about the circus at every chance they got. Eventually, Molly quieted down and let the now happier chatter in the room wash over him, tail wrapped around Midnight’s ankle. He leaned heavily into Yasha’s side. Yasha leaned back, her head resting on a horn. Her eyes closed in contentment.
Midnight caught her soup bowl before it hit the ground. Yasha blinked slightly blurry eyes awake.
“It may be time to rest,” Midnight suggested. The unseen servants gathered the rest of the dishes and began washing them. “Through that door,” Midnight said, pointing to the closer of the two, “is a sleeping space. Well, its more like a loft with a giant mattress, piled with every blanket, pillow, and stuffed animal on the continent of Wildmount. Feel free to make yourselves at home. Through the door on the right side, there’s a mini-private bathhouse you are all welcome to use. There is also a walk-in make-up room and closet that is locked on the left wall. Obviously, this means stay out. Everything in there is circus related and/or deadly, and hard to replace. May Kord and the Moonweaver watch over you,” Midnight said.
Kingsley took Yasha’s hand when she tried to stand.
“We’re sleeping out here, if you want to join us,” he yawned.
“White chocolate and mint tea please, and a bottle of whiskey,” Midnight asked an unseen servant. They got their drinks shortly after. Both Molly and Yasha added whiskey to their tea. Midnight nodded her understanding, but abstained. Yasha smiled fondly at the memory of the first and last time Midnight had alcohol.
“We’ve been trying to find you,” Molly started, tea halfway gone. “Well, one of the healers has. Tabaxi druid. Grows the best lilies in a moving caravan and everyone is insanely confused how they do it. Remind me to show them to you. Not the point…”
“Oh, uh. I have this necklace. I got with the Nein when...the city...yep. It makes it so I can’t be seen when people scry on me,” Yasha explained, pulling out the pendant. “I’ve been using it since Beau,” she took a breath. “Since Beau disappeared.”
“That explains why the spell kept failing,” Midnight sighed into her tea. “I’m glad you are alright.”
“What happened to the Unpleasant One?” Kingsley asked.
She struggled to find words. “The Cobalt Soul sent her on a mission to Odessloe.” Midnight’s brow furrowed at the town name. “She was after some lord there? I didn’t get specifics. I..I haven't seen her. Since then. I tried to find her, but…”
“But the Empire got stupidly dangerous overnight,” Midnight finished.
“Yes,” Yasha whispered. “I ah. I couldn’t make it outside of the Empire, not even to the Blooming Grove. And trying to get in contact with Caleb is...very dangerous. I think my physic link to Veth”ーMolly face palmedー”is also broken...I haven’t heard from her in awhile. And well, Essek has hidden himself away...somewhere very hard to find. Um, have you heard anything?”
Kingsley sucked in a breath. “Whelp. Good news, Not-VETH, gods I keep forgetting. Veth is fine. Ish. She’s keeping an eye on things for us in Nicodanas. Bad news, I have no idea where anyone else is, except...Fjord. Fjord...is a bit...lost at sea?”
“Nice way of saying he’s a giant sea serpent's puppet,” Midnight stated.
“Thank you for destroying my attempt at being delicate,” Molly shot back.
“Anytime, heart.”
Yasha blinked, teacup halfway to her lips. She looked down at it. Midnight passed Yasha the bottle of whiskey. Yasha popped the cork and drank straight from it without hesitation. It burned her throat. Molly took the bottle from her soon after to do the same.
“So yes. Fjord’s lost in a mess of tentacles right now. Which is a lot less hot than it should be…The Nein Heroez is damaged, but still sailing, and most of the crew is safe. Marius still hasn’t killed anyone. Orly said Fjord submitted to...what did he call it? Over grown eye-squid? To save them. Evil-Fjord grabbed Jester before he left, and we have no idea where she is now.” Molly’s eyes narrowed. “Or that damn weasel...archfey? Not surprising; he’s more than useless.”
“We also can’t get to the Blooming Grove. Clique de la Lune has an arrangement with Shady Creek I can’t break. Plus, none of your other friends are able to be scryed on. I’m guessing because of the necklaces?” Midnight asked. Yasha nodded.
“Well fuck,” Molly stated. Yasha stared at the now half empty bottle of whiskey forlornly. The situation was becoming more complicated by the minute.
“That lord in Odessloe wouldn’t happen to be Wallace Merriweather?” Midnight pipped up, scowling at her tea.
“That sounds, right, I think? It was a while ago,” Yasha answered.
Midnight nodded, the gears turning behind her eyes.
“Oh, I know that look. I dislike that look.” Kingsley quipped.
“He’s on Cirque de la Lune’s shit-list. Real scumbag and blackmailer,” Midnight smiled without mirth. “We’ve been wanting to take him on for ages. Cobalt Soul asked us not to, then went dark. Not uncommon. But, if one of their expositors is in danger, that changes things.” The mischief returned to Midnight’s face. “I know how to get your heart back to you, Yasha.”
Molly gagged.