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He had begged again and again to go with them. Over and over, they had told him no, promising that they'd take him with them next time, always next time.
The next time never came. Each time had another excuse for the young boy, always putting it off. He knew the truth-- They didn't want him to be seen with the protests, not when it could jeopardize his education and his future in Grulovia. It was already terse just to be in the same circus troupe as his parents when their allegiances were clearly not with the royal family.
This time, as he waited at home, he could hear the pouring rain pummeling the windows, seeping in through the cracks of the caravan walls, leaking into every seam of wood and fabric. The water was welcoming, and yet he knew what it meant. They had told him dozens of times how the protests were rained out.
"Be careful with the water, Gussy-- If it is used against you, you won't have the strength to fight."
He still hurried outside, gathering the droplets in the air to form his favorite friends, the animals of the circus and the storybooks. A lion, a wolf, a ferret, an elephant. Out of the usual forms the water could take, he stuck with the wolves this time. They always felt more like family than the rest, and they would defend him from the storms. He danced with the water, spinning in circles as the forms created themselves, wolves barking at his heels in no time. He laughed, whooping with glee, but the rain only grew stronger. A crack rang out, and then screaming.
He could see the water rushing towards him and his wolves. He knew what his family had told him to do when the world was screaming.
He ran to the caravan, the wolves protecting his little home, and he held the door shut as tight as his eyelids, counting the seconds as the rushing water flooded past. He could hear the torrents passing by, rocking the caravan, but he was safe inside, safe where the world was still dry enough to let him survive another day. As soon as the sound was gone, he stepped away, and the door drifted open.
The caravan was no longer where it was before, but it still stood, the wheels upright and dripping. The waves had carried it away, and now, he stumbled out, searching for a sign of where the home had been set down.
The statue before the door told him the answer-- Maligula's statue, commemorating her efforts in the war. It was in the center of the city, not by the circus encampment. Water still sat in the streets, draining through inadequate systems, and his leather boots didn't offer him much comfort from the freezing layer that soaked his body to his waist.
The signs still sat in the streets, ink and paint running down the wood and cardboard. The water flowed past, giving him barely enough grip on the ground to find a foothold, yet he stumbled through, sloshing through waterlogged streets to find where the protest had been just an hour ago.
There, he found the thing he feared he would. People, face-down, lying in the water. They weren't breathing. Still, he checked them for pulses, for any sign of life. Nothing.
Again and again he checked their faces, breathing for an instant when they weren't his mama or papa. At last, he found the last one, and he slogged to its side.
"I found you! You can't hide for long, Gristol! I'm the best at hide and seek!"
He wished he wasn't so good at finding people.
"Mama?" he managed, falling to his knees. His shoulders were still above water as he shook her, those glasses falling off into the water. Her eyes were still open, glassy with shock and horror, and he hugged his mom tight, sobbing. "MAMA!"
A figure descended from above, looking at him, and he stared up at it. A familiar fur coat let four thin braids escape it, and those yellow eyes stared back at him, filled with the same shock he saw in his mother's eyes.
"Aunt Lucy-- Aunt Lucy, please, Mama-- Mama's hurt, please--!"
"Aunt Lucy, look! I made this for you!"
Aunt Lucy's gaze grew cold, and she raised her hand to the sky. "...So the storms will come, boy."
"Aunt Lucy, please!" he begged, but she only glared at him sternly.
"Maligula. My name is Maligula, boy."
He yelped with fear as the water constricted around him, but he broke free after a moment, his wolves biting at the watery snakes she summoned. He tried to point them to fight her, but instead, one grabbed him by his shirt, throwing him onto its back as it fled, taking him with it. He struggled the whole way, but the words failed him, his voice cracking into shards of ice lodged in his throat. He didn't even have tears to shed.
All he had was gone in an instant, and he couldn't even begin to understand why.