Date Finished: August 4th, 2023.
By: Jose R. Garcia

Once upon a time, on distant April nights, there was a circus that displayed spectacular sights. This festival weird, this home of the odd, played day in, day out, shows not really known about, outside of their own little world. For you see, this carnival of dancing lights, of neon nightsky bliss, is not held in the realm where we mortals lived. Deep in the heart of the fae, where sirens and satyrs live, the show runs with a life self given. From the jester from the west roads, the strong man who lifts the world, the animals who sing in tune, and the spirits jumping through hoops, to the self setting chairs and laughing tents, everything inside was living. 

And at the crown of all the show’s, at the very height of the evening’s call, the nightingales were the biggest. The lights would dim, smoke would fill and spread the stage, and from the shadows they would immerge. A flash of light would flood the stage, suddenly out of the grey would stand 9 figures of gold and blue, with masks of the same colors to hide all desire and intent. The would each stand apart only by a couple of inches, yet as soon as the music started it was almost like they became a unit, each one a fraction of a whole. Their moves were gentle, yet calculated, cold. The crowds of faerie folk would hold their breath as they watched the show. There was a strangeness to end, something that even to the spirits seemed otherworldly. Yet no one could ever claim that for a single second they were not entertained. 

And from the sidelines the ring master would watch. A tall man of tired complexion, large comb beard, wearing a yellow glittering coat to outshine even the brightest jewel. The roaring applause, the louder cheer, it filled the ring master with a pride that nowhere else he could feel. The talent was theirs, but the show was his. He would run it with perfect precision. Yet the Ringmaster, as prideful and as greedy as he was, had a weak spot that most knew but never saw. 

In one of the carts, far to the back, guarded by an old, powerful hag, there was a tween girl with red curly hair, watching from the window and hearing the music of the nightingales. She had only seen the once, so long ago. On her birthday the only thing she wanted was to see her daddy’s show. After begging and crying, and asking non stop, the Ringmaster finally decided to let her come. That night she sat on the front row, on a corner reserved for special guest only. And while she had enjoyed most of the acts, like everyone before her, the nightingales captivated her. She had never seen such beauty, such perfection in the moves and the flow. In a way it made her young heart flutter. The moment she became a being with a purpose. After that day, whenever she would hear the song again, she would close her eyes and starts the delicate movements that stayed with her till that day. 

And tonight was no different. 

One arm up, feet on her toes. Jump, spin, and pose.

It wasn’t yet right. It needed to be perfect. 

One arm raised up, on the tips of her toes. Jump, spin, falls over. 

“How do they do it?” She asked to herself, frustrated with tears filling her eyes. After a few moments, she gave up and sat on the edge of her bed, frustration filling up and making her shake. She would sniff and shake her head, lost in thought as she wondered how were they able to do it, how could they move so gently, so elegantly. Laying down she would keep herself lingering on the thoughts until eventually she doze off. 

Her father came by some time after, surprise to see her asleep relatively early. He would sit on her beside and tucker her up. The girl, due to the movement would wake up in a daze and look to her father “Pah?”

“I’m sorry dear. I didn’t mean to wake you.” he smiled and gave her a kiss on the forehead “Ill leave you now so you can rest.”

As he walked away, she would get up “Pah, I want to meet them!”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose “Darling, I already told you no.”

“Why not?! I just want to learn! I want to be a nightingale some day!…” Then she paused and reflected “…do you… think I’m not good enough?”

He would rush over and set his hand on her shoulder “You’re not just good enough sweetie. You are my perfect little girl.” 

“Then why won’t you allow me to become a dancer? Or at least see them to try and learn.”

The dad grunted and pinched looked to the side, taking a step back “I’ll… think about it. But not right now.” Then begrudgingly walked out of the room with too much in his mind to bear. 

The daughter wasn’t happy. She knew what he meant. He wanted to buy some time until she forgot again. Difference was that now she felt a fire in her chest, she had to know how they did it, what they were truly. But how?

As she lean down on the window once again, she would stare into the starry sky in direction of the tent when suddenly sometime would peak through the side of her vision. She turn her gaze to a cart larger than the others, painted of blue with golden stars on it. It was strange, she had never seen this cart before. Part of her wanted to question, but at the same time it was like her own mind was connecting the dots on her own. “That must be theirs!” she cheered in a quite voice.”

And so, a new objective was set. She waited until the dead of night, when all the lights of the festival were out and everyone was in their tents, to sneak about and knock at the Nightingales door. Her heart was heavy, but fluttering in excitement. She waited a couple of seconds before knocking again. She knew that there still were people inside, for the light was on. Soon enough, to her relief, the door opens up to reveal one of the masked figures. She would look down to the girl and say in a very mature, yet still warm and inviting voice “What have we here? Isn’t it a bit late for an autograph?” Followed by a chuckle. 

“I’m sorry!” she whispered excitedly. “My dad didn’t wanted to come by, but I just… I just want to know how can I become a Nightingale like you!”

The masked woman was taken aback “Oh? You seem so young darling. You want to be part of our group? And your dad you say?” 

The girl couldn’t read the woman, given the obvious masked. Even so, she could still feel the questioning tone in her voice. Seemed more like care than actually curiosity. “Y-yeah… My dad is the ring master. I-I-I don’t know if that’s a problem. I just… I really want to learn!” 

The woman would tilt her head and look inside. The girl could hear soft whispers from behind. “Give me a second sweetie.” The girl would wait outside for a couple of minutes while she heard whispers and what she assumed were chuckles of sorts coming from inside. Finally, the woman opened the door again “Alright sweetie, we can answer any questions you have inside.”

She would open the door, revealing her actual height. Her feathered masked touched the ceiling of the place so she was a bit bent. As the girl started walking inside, she could hear the distant voice of her father “Sweetie! Sweetie where are you?!” The woman would look to the direction of the voice and pull the girl inside. 

“Come on, before you get in trouble.” and closed the door behind them. 

Upon hearing the door locked, the girl turned around to see that the masked woman was gone, along with the door that lead to the outside. She found herself in an empty dark space, visibility dim but not completely gone. Her chest would tightened and she would begin to feel cold, though she couldn’t tell if it was from the temperature or her nerves. She suddenly saw a flickering, like that of a hearth coming from her far left. She walks over through the vass nothingness until she eventually comes across an old doorway. Peering through, she notices the fireplace flickering softly at the end of this strange room, two chairs in front of it but no one sitting on either side. The girl would walk over and warm herself for a bit, watching around to see if anybody was there. A few minutes pass and there was nothing but silence. She tried to call out, but her voice had gone silent, she wasn’t able to even mutter. Her body warmth up but her chest was still tight, heart racing. She hid her gaze down on her knees as she sat down besides the fireplace. 

She eventually must of dose off, as she felt a cold hand on her shoulder. She jumped awake and looked to the side. It was the tall woman, but there was something about her that now terrified the girl. It wasn’t a physical trait she could describe, perhaps just her mind because of what little she had seen so far. The moan had her hands held together and said in her soft yet mature voice “I’m sorry to keep you waiting child. We were not prepared for your arrival. We needed to get things ready, and your father would have been… difficult to deal with if he prohibit you from ever seeing it.”

“S-See what?” The girl asked in a shaky voice. 

The woman simply extends her hand. The girl is fearful, but eventually her curiosity wins over it and takes the woman’s cold hand. They walk back into the empty space and take a few moments before they eventually come across into another doorway. The woman was taller, but slowed down enough so that the girl had no trouble following besides her. The room would form in front of her eyes, showing the dancers all set and ready for a full on performance. The girl suddenly turned red, both excited and embarrassed “Oh! Oh no! Im sorry! I just wanted to ask how you…” 

The woman shushes her “I know darling. No worries, enjoy the show.” 

She takes her over to a makeshift bench set up and join the group at the very center. How had they set up everything so fast, she wondered,  And by themselves?…  She hadn’t even realized until now that this whole place was supposed to be a simple cart to sleep. The fae wilds were a strange place indeed. 

The show began, a soft drumming coming from somewhere in the distance. A tempo. Thum Thum. Repeating over and over as the woman at the center moved her right arm, the four to her right moved like a gentle breeze away from her with a single step and fell into position. The woman of the left did the same as she pointed to them. The girl was instantly mesmerized by them. They began a routine different from what usually they usually did in the show. This one wasn’t a grand spectacle like those. This one was simple, yet refined. The soft drumming creating the beat that would almost, in a way, allow them to move. The soft steps would begin to move in a circular motion, a hypnotic wave of syncronized energy, carefully shared between the nine so that they would all move between each other yet never touch or collide unless intended. 

Then the nine stop and form a line. The tall woman at the center again. She break away from the others and walked towards the girl. Kneeling down in front of her, she offered her hand. The girl knew exactly what the woman wanted  but hid her hand away and shook her head “No… I’m… I’m not as good as you are.”

The woman chuckled “It’s okay darling. We all start somewhere.”

The girl, still scared, found some comfort in the words of the masked woman and extended her arm out. The woman would gently pull the girl into a positon in front of her, among the dancers and the Thum-thum would begin again. 

The nine started to move with senses all to their own. The girl lost still held the pose that the tall lady had set her in before she heard the womans voice “Keep a gentle figure, but follow the rhythm of the music. The moves themselves will come to you. Just let go.”

The girl would take a deep breath, remembering the steps she practice every night in her room. 

One arm raised up, on the tips of her toes. Jump, spin, and… fall over. 

The girl’s face flustered. The woman chuckled but walked over and helped her up. “Don’t let that 

get you down. Try one more time.” She said as she tilted her head, as if to show a smile. The girl nodded and took a deep breath. The other eight continued to dance as the girl got ready.

Thum-thum, played the music. 

One arm raised up, on the tips of her toes. Jump, spin, and… pose… it was perfect. The girl’s eyes filled with excitement as she cheered. The woman spoke out “Don’t stop now, follow the rhythm!”

They would dance together for what felt like hours. The girl wasn’t perfect, but she was having fun, and the more she got, the more her moves were alike those of the Nightingales. She giggled and smiled as the moves became more and more refined yet gentle. Harsh yet precise. And all while the music played more and more to their rhythm. Thum-thum. 

Finally, the girl stopped, finding herself exhausted but happy, she would try and catch her breath. The woman would walk over and smile at her “You did very good. You were born to be a nightingale.”

The girl almost bursted in tears “You really think so?”

The woman, would walk past the girl over to a small table the girl hadn’t noticed before. She would move her hands, cleaning something the girl couldn’t see from her position. Then the woman walked back over and kneeled in front of the girl and handed her a mask “For you.”

Thum-Thum. Thum-thum.

The girl was taken aback, tears now streaming from her face “A-are you sure? I still have a lot to learn…” She said shyly. 

“I will teach you.” The woman replied with a loving tone on her voice. “Would you like to be a Nightingale?’

Thum-Thum. Thum-Thum. THUM-THUM. 

The girl nodded “YES”

The woman tilted her head and put the masked on the girl’s hands. 
THUM-THUM, CRASH. The door would crash open to an old wooden cart with marionnetts hanging from the ceiling, each one of a different shape and form, each one holding a different pose, as if ready to dance for the world to see. The Ringmaster looked relentlessly inside of the cart until noticing a new 10th marionette at the center, in front of the tall woman who’s hand were on the new puppet’s shoulders. The father rushed over and, with shaking hands, caressed the face of the gentle doll, tears cascading from his face like a silent waterfall. Opening a little music box, a song would start to play, and suddenly, softly, her daughter spoke “I… I did it dad… I became perfect.”