Beyond Reality: Part 9

:warning: TRIGGER WARNING :warning:

Abuse, a bit of gore

Word count- 4282

Fairies Point Of View

     Alaric sat beside Kestrel in the quiet of the cage, his gaze fixed on the ground. Kestrel’s breathing was steady, his nicely healed wings folded protectively around him. His skin had regained all of its former glow, his markings standing out once more. The ritual had fully healed him physically, but mentally he was a mess.

     Kestrel broke the silence first, his voice soft. “You saved me. I...I don’t understand why.”

    Alaric flinched at the unexpected sound, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Because, I care about you. I know you don't believe me, and that's fine, but it's true.” He muttered, avoiding Kestrel’s gaze. “But there’s something you need to know.”

    The tone in Alaric’s voice made Kestrel straighten as he looked at him. “What is it?”

    Alaric hesitated, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “The ringmaster…he gave me the ingredients we needed. But he didn’t do it out of kindness.”

    Kestrel’s eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into his expression. “What did you promise him, Alaric?”

    “I had no choice.” Alaric said quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “He wouldn’t help otherwise. You were dying, Kestrel. I couldn’t just…”

    “Alaric,” Kestrel interrupted, his voice sharper now. “What did you promise him?”

    Alaric swallowed hard, finally meeting Kestrel’s gaze. “I told him…that we’d obey him. Completely. No more defiance, no more rebellion. Whatever he wants, whenever he wants it.”

    Kestrel’s face fell, his expression a mixture of disbelief and anger. “You what? Alaric, you can’t be serious!”

    “I didn’t have a choice!” Alaric snapped, his own frustration boiling over. “You were dying in my arms, Kestrel! Do you think I wanted to do this? Do you think I like the idea of being his puppet? But what was I supposed to do? Let you die?”

    “Yes! That's exactly what you were supposed to do!” Kestrel growled and looked away, his jaw tightening. “You should have let me go.”

    Alaric recoiled as if struck. “How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through, after everything I’ve done to make this right…”

    “Right? You think this is right?” Kestrel closed his eyes. “I can't live like this, Alaric.” His voice cracked as his wings closed tighter around him. “Now we have to dance to his tune, suffer his every whim. You've tied us to him forever.”

    “I’ll find a way out.” Alaric said desperately, his voice softer now. “I swear, Kestrel. I’ll figure something out. But I couldn’t let you die. Not here. Not because of me.”

    Kestrel kept his eyes closed, leaning back against the bars of the cage as he struggled to calm his breathing. For a long moment, the only sound was the faint rustle of the tent outside.

    Finally, Kestrel spoke, his voice quiet and defeated. “We’ll never be free, Alaric. Don't make promises you can't keep.”

     “Kestrel… we’ll find a way. Together.”

     He opened his eyes and studied Alaric's, seeing only determination and sincerity in them. Wanting to keep Alaric’s hopes up, Kestrel nodded once. “Together then.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

    The ringmaster gave Kestrel two days to fully recover before the training began. He wanted them to blow the audience away, to make up for the months of defiance and refusal to perform correctly. He worked them hard, making sure they would really do anything he demanded.

     Everyday the fairies were forced to sing and dance for the humans, to spin just right to capture the lights with their wings, cascading the audience with their glimmer. Every performance was longer, more strenuous, and more demanding than the one before.

     After weeks of following the ringmaster’s demands to the letter, he pushed another on them.

     “Tonight will be different. Tonight you're going to give them the show of a lifetime. Something they'll talk about for years.” The ringmaster smirked as he watched the fairies.

     Kestrel and Alaric just nodded, they knew they had no say in anything so there was no point in speaking.

     The main tent buzzed with anticipation, the crowd already roaring as they filled the seats, eager for their next dose of fantastical entertainment. Spotlights swept across the stage, painting the arena in shifting patterns of light and shadows.

     Kestrel and Alaric stood in silence in their little cage. Kestrel’s wings drooped with exhaustion, but he kept his back straight and head high. Alaric fidgeted as his wings flicked with nervous anticipation. He was tired and sore, his muscles crying out for reprieve.

     Kestrel worked harder than Alaric every night, keeping his part of the deal. He knew they were in this mess because Alaric had felt the need to save him. He felt responsible for the deal Alaric made, so he did everything in his power to keep the ringmaster happy. Kestrel could tell in the way the ringmaster looked at him that it was him who would pay the most should either fairy falter. He had no intention of doing anything to bring the rod near again.

     They knew the ringmaster had a surprise in store for them, they just didn't know what exactly. But they knew it wouldn't be good. It worried Kestrel, but he couldn't worry about that now. Whatever it was, they'd have to deal with it.

     The ringmaster appeared next to the cage, dressed in his usual bright outfit, his grin razor sharp. “Tonight you're going to give them something to . Perform faultlessly and with grace. Or else.” His voice dripped with menace as his eyes lingered on Kestrel, who flinched under the weight of his gaze.

     “Yes, Ringmaster.” Alaric said through gritted teeth. He hated how the ringmaster looked at Kestrel, how he constantly aimed his threats towards him. Not only did it say Kestrel would be the first punished, but it also told him that Kestrel’s obedience meant more to the ringmaster than his own.

    Soft music began to play as the ringmaster disappeared through the curtains to address the audience, giving his overly dramatic speech.

     Alaric looked at Kestrel. “You okay?”

    “I'm fine.” Kestrel lied without looking at Alaric.

     As the ringmaster concluded his introduction, the handlers moved in, hoisting the fairies' cage with practiced ease. Kestrel and Alaric gripped the bars for balance as the cage swayed in the air. It was carried out from behind the curtains and suspended by a chain above the stage.

    The stage itself had been utterly transformed overnight. It was now enclosed by massive, gleaming golden bars, turning the entire platform into an extremely large cage.

    The audience erupted into cheers the moment the fairies' small cage came into view. Applause thundered through the tent as spectators leaned forward in their seats, eager for the performance to begin. The ringmaster strode dramatically to the dangling cage, the dreaded magical rod clenched in his hand.

    Inside, Kestrel and Alaric shrank back, pressing themselves against the farthest bars.

    "Don't disappoint me." The ringmaster growled, his voice sharp enough to cut through metal. He tapped the rod against the cage door, unlocking it with a faint click. His eyes narrowed as he waved the rod threateningly. "The stage isn’t the only thing that’s been upgraded. You don't want to know what this can do now.” He smirked, then threw his arm out dramatically and yelled, “Now fly.”

    With that, he swung the cage door open and stepped back, retreating beyond the golden bars that defined the new stage.

    Kestrel and Alaric exchanged uneasy glances. Neither dared move at first. Was it a trap? What lay waiting beyond their small prison?

    When Alaric hesitated, Kestrel exhaled a shaky breath, summoning what courage he could muster. With a beautiful shimmer, his wings unfurled, their gold and blue hues glowing brilliantly in the light. Taking a step forward, he leapt from the cage.

    For a moment, Kestrel felt free. His wings beat steadily, their soft light casting shifting colors across the enormous cage and the enraptured crowd. He twirled and soared, the air rushing past him as he rediscovered the sensation of freedom, even if only for a moment.

    Lost in the rhythm of flight, Kestrel allowed himself to dream. He spun in tight circles, his movements elegant and precise, then climbed higher, nearly brushing the top of the golden bars before diving steeply toward the ground. At the last second, he pulled up, his wings sweeping gracefully as he arced through the air.

    In the smaller cage, Alaric stood transfixed, a smile tugging at his lips. Watching Kestrel fly had always been mesmerizing, something he never tired of, now it was a reminder of the beauty and grace that once defined their lives before captivity. With a deep breath, he moved toward the edge of the cage. His wings flared wide, and in one powerful leap, he ed Kestrel in the air.

    The two fairies circled one another, their movements a silent conversation, a brief return to what they once were. Beyond them, the audience roared with delight, completely unaware of the bittersweet undertone of the fairies' display.

    As Kestrel soared alongside Alaric, his smile crashed and his euphoria disintegrated as his chest suddenly tightened painfully. Memories came rushing back, unbidden and unwanted. He saw their days in the forest, filled with laughter and teasing. He ed how they used to race each other, darting through the trees like streaks of light, their joy uncontainable.

    But then, darker memories pushed their way forward, memories he wished he could bury. He saw Alaric’s face the last time they were together in the forest, etched with a mix of anger and something else Kestrel couldn’t place at the time. The words Alaric had spoken echoed in his mind, cutting as sharply now as they had then. “It’s better for me if you’re gone.”

    Kestrel’s wings faltered for a moment, the glow dimming as the pain of those words pressed against his heart. He glanced at Alaric, who was flying with an ease that seemed almost carefree, his movements fluid and confident. Did Alaric even feel remorse? Did he really understand how badly he hurt him?

    Kestrel clenched his jaw, forcing his wings to keep him aloft. He didn’t have the luxury of confronting Alaric here, not in front of this crowd, not under the watchful gaze of the ringmaster. The stage wasn’t just a cage for their bodies, it was a cage for their emotions too.

    But the pain wouldn’t stay buried. As they continued their flight, the applause from the crowd became a distant hum, drowned out by the storm brewing in Kestrel’s heart. His movements grew less fluid, his energy waning. He spiraled lower, landing on the stage's floor with a soft thud. He tried to hide his trembling as he folded his wings against his back.

    Alaric landed beside him, his brows knitting together in concern. "Kestrel, are you okay?" He whispered, careful to keep his voice low so the audience wouldn’t hear.

    Kestrel didn’t answer at first, his gaze fixed on the golden bars surrounding them. Finally, he turned to Alaric, his voice as sharp as the edge of a blade. “Does it feel good, Alaric? Flying like old times? Pretending nothing happened?”

    Alaric flinched. “Kestrel, I…”

    “Save it.” Kestrel’s voice cracked with emotion, his glowing markings flickering faintly. “We’re nothing more than dolls now. But at least I didn’t sell out a friend to get here.”

    Alaric’s face fell, guilt twisting his expression, but before he could respond, the crowd roared again, demanding more. Above them, the ringmaster’s voice boomed through the tent. “Don’t stop now, my little stars! Give them a show they’ll never forget!”

    Kestrel straightened, forcing himself to push aside his emotions. He spread his wings once more, their bright glow hiding the darkness growing inside him.

     “We’ll finish this.” He said, his voice low. “Because you promised him our souls.”

    Kestrel launched himself back into the air, his movements almost mechanical. He would dance for the humans because he had no other choice.

     Kestrel began to sing, finally moving into the rehearsed performance the ringmaster had planned for them. His voice was soft, but carried through the tent easily as he danced in the air.

     Alaric flew up to Kestrel’s side, but kept his back to him as he moved with the rhythm.

     This performance was unlike anything they have ever done. The ringmaster had choreographed every second, every movement meant to push them to their limits.

     Alaric’s performance was all sharp edges and raw power. His leaps were high, his turns forceful, and every motion carried an intensity that demanded attention. He moved as though he were battling an unseen force, his golden wings slicing through the air with precision. His muscles tensed with each pivot, his expression a mask of determination, as if he needed the audience to see his effort, to know how much he fought for their iration.

    Kestrel, by contrast, moved with a quiet elegance that seemed almost effortless. Where Alaric struck the air, Kestrel flowed through it, his body bending and turning with a grace that defied gravity. His blue, glowing wings unfurled like waves, each beat a soft ripple of light that painted the stage in ethereal hues. His movements were fluid, deliberate, yet entirely unforced. His spins seamless, his steps light as though he barely touched the air. He moved with the elegance of a creature born to perform.

    While Alaric fought to impress, Kestrel simply existed, each motion carrying an unspoken confidence. His gaze never faltered, his body never strained, and his presence seemed to draw the audience in like moths to a flame. Every turn of his head, every flick of his wrist was art, natural and sophisticated.

     Where Alaric’s performance was a display of fiery ion, Kestrel’s was the embodiment of serene mastery. The contrast was stark. Alaric’s raw energy filled the stage while Kestrel’s tranquil power captivated it entirely.

    Kestrel’s song was angelic and sorrowful, the sound of someone who had been caged and almost broken. No human could ever understand the words, but the meaning, the feelings sank deep into their souls. His notes wavered at times, a reminder of his exhaustion from being overworked, but the raw emotion in his voice captivated the audience.

     Half way through the performance, the ringmaster added his cruel twist, to test their loyalty. As the fairies danced through the air, the stage below them began to shift. Jets of flame erupted in rhythmic bursts from hidden nozzles, their searing heat radiating through the cage. The crowd gasped and cheered, their excitement mounting as the fire illuminated the golden bars and cast flickering shadows across the tent.

    The ringmaster's voice cut through the noise, commanding the fairies. “Dance through the flames, my little wonders! Show them your resilience! Your grace!”

    Kestrel hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning the pattern of the fire jets. The flames were unpredictable, some bursting in short, sharp intervals while others roared to life and lingered before dying down. He felt the heat scorch the air around him and swallowed hard, his chest tightening even more. He was already weak from the relentless practices, his wings battered from previous punishments when he messed up, but he had no choice. He knew Alaric was just as tired, just as sore, and he'd help him any way he could. Even with his anger boiling over, he wouldn't allow Alaric to get hurt.

     Alaric trembled as he moved closer to Kestrel. “He's trying to kill us?”

     “He's testing us.” Kestrel growled as he glanced at Alaric.

     Kestrel was the first to move, his wings beating furiously as he darted forward, narrowly avoiding a column of fire that shot up just inches from his side. “Stay close to me!” He called over his shoulder, his voice urgent. “Watch the pattern, Alaric. Stay one step ahead.”

   Alaric nodded, forcing his body to respond. He launched himself into the fray, staying close to Kestrel who's movements were precise as he wove through the bursts of flame.

     The heat was unbearable, making Kestrel's already fragile wings feel as if they might ignite. Each flick of his wings sent trails of golden and blue light shimmering through the air, blending with the fiery glow, attracting the audience's attention fully.

     The two fairies moved together seamlessly, their flight paths crossing and intertwining as they dodged the deadly flames. Alaric took the lead, his sharp instincts guiding him through the chaos. Kestrel followed closely, his glowing markings flickering with every twist and turn. The crowd roared with approval as the fairies spun and twirled, their movements a breathtaking display of agility and courage.

    The flames grew more erratic, their timing less predictable. One burst erupted dangerously close to Kestrel, the edges of his wings singeing as he barely managed to pull away. He cried out in pain, faltering mid-flight.

    Alaric noticed immediately, his eyes darting back to his friend. “Kestrel!” He shouted, looping back toward him. Another jet of fire roared to life in his path, forcing him to veer sharply to the side, but not before burning his hip. He yelped and grabbed his side as he spun out of control for a second.

     “Don't worry about me! Just keep moving!” Kestrel yelled as he gritted his teeth, pushing himself to keep going. His vision blurred from the heat, and his chest felt like it was being crushed, but he couldn't stop. With each beat of his wings, he forced himself forward, weaving through the deadly flames.

    The ringmaster watched from the sidelines, a cruel smile on his lips as he tapped the magical rod against his palm. “Beautiful.” He murmured to himself. “Absolutely beautiful.”

    Finally, the flames began to subside, their bursts growing weaker and less frequent. The fairies slowed their movements, their wings beating heavily as they hovered above the stage. The audience's cheers reached a fever pitch, masking the lingering danger on the stage.

     Kestrel’s wings trembled with exhaustion as he hovered over the stage, Alaric already landing on the ground. Kestrel watched as Alaric gingerly touched his red, burnt hip, examining the damage with trembling fingers. He had a few other burn marks along his legs and on his chest, but nothing too serious. Kestrel sighed as relief flooded him. He'd be okay.

    Without warning, a rogue jet of fire erupted beneath Kestrel, roaring to life in a searing burst of heat. Kestrel had no time to react and the flame caught his leg, licking up his ankle to his hip, leaving a trail of agony in its wake.

     Kestrel screamed, his cry of pain pierced through the tent, silencing the crowd for a moment. His wings froze as the pain enveloped him, and he spiraled downward, hitting the ground hard. He curled in on himself instinctively, clutching at his burned leg. The skin was raw, and red, already blistering as some flesh peeled from his body.

     “Kestrel!” Alaric shouted, his voice filled with panic, his own wounds forgotten as he ran to his friend's side. He dropped to his knees as his hands hovered over Kestrel’s leg, unsure of what to do. “I've got you, just hold on.”

     The crowd, oblivious to the severity of the situation, began to cheer again, assuming the fairy's pain was part of the performance. A little drama to entice them.

     The ringmaster, however, frowned. This wasn't part of his plan. They weren't supposed to get seriously injured. Just a little burned to remind them of who held the power. He strode forward, the magical rod tight in his hand and banged it against the bars.

     “Get up!” He barked loud enough for the fairy's to hear but not the audience. “The show isn't over until I say it is!” His voice was cold and uncaring.

    Alaric’s head snapped up, his expression filled with rage. “He's hurt!” He hissed back. “He can't keep going!”

     The ringmaster sneered, his eyes narrowing as he pointed the rod at the two fairies. The faint hum of its magic filled the air, a threat that needed no words. “It'll keep going, or you'll both suffer for it.” He promised darkly.

    Kestrel sat up, his face twisted in pain as he tried to move his injured leg. “No…” He whispered. “No more, please. I'll do it.”

    Alaric reached out and put his hand on Kestrel’s shoulder. “You don't have to do this.” He said softly, guilt and fear lacing his words.

    Kestrel tilted his head up, his expression accusing as he whispered. “Thanks to you, I do.”

     Kestrel pushed himself to his feet and hissed in pain as soon as he put pressure on his injured leg. He stumbled, but didn't fall. Alaric reached out and took his arm to steady him.

     “I'm sorry…” Alaric meant it, he'd never been so sorry in his life. Watching his friend suffer like this was more than he could take.

     Kestrel gritted his teeth against the searing pain in his leg, forcing himself to focus. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to stop, to rest, but he couldn’t. Not with the ringmaster glaring, not with the audience roaring in anticipation, and not with Alaric looking at him with guilt so heavy it might crush them both.

    “This is your doing.” Kestrel hissed through labored breaths, his voice barely audible over the noise. “You wanted me here, ? You wanted me to suffer. You should be happy, slapping yourself on the back for a job well done. Enjoy the hell you brought upon us.”

    Alaric opened his mouth to argue, but Kestrel held up a trembling hand. “Help me… or stay out of my way.”

    Alaric hesitated, his wings twitching with uncertainty, but the determination in Kestrel’s glowing eyes left no room for doubt. He nodded as he looked down.

    Kestrel took a shaky breath, then spread his singed wings. Their usual glow flickered like a candle, but it was enough to catch the audience’s attention. The cheers rose again, and Kestrel knew he had to give them something spectacular.

    He turned to Alaric, his voice low and commanding. “Fly with me. Match my movements.”

    Alaric’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, his wings snapping open. Together, they took to the air, Kestrel’s movements slower and more deliberate to compensate for his injured wing.

    The fire jets were replaced with beams of light and the fairies wove between them, their bodies spinning and twirling in synchronized patterns. Kestrel led, his wings creating arcs of glowing light in the tent, while Alaric followed, his darker, sharper movements providing contrast.

    Kestrel’s leg throbbed with each twist and dive, but he pushed through the pain, his expression calm and serene for the sake of the performance. He moved his body to make beautiful arches as his legs moved in rhythm to the music filling the tent. The crowd’s cheers became a distant roar in his ears, replaced by the rhythmic beat of their wings.

     As they reached the finale, Kestrel gestured for Alaric to take the lead. Alaric hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding and shooting upward in a sharp spiral. Kestrel followed, trailing a ribbon of blue light behind him as he spun upwards like a ballerina.

     At the peak of their flight, Alaric grabbed Kestrel’s hands and the two fairies spun and twisted under each other's arms in perfect harmony as they descended. Their wings fanned out, catching the light and scattering a dazzling array of colors across the stage.

    Kestrel landed first, his legs refusing to hold him up and he crumbled to the floor. His charred wings drooped before he pulled them in tightly against his back. Alaric landed beside him with a mix of anger and concern etched on his face.

     “Help me up.” Kestrel asked softly as he reached out to Alaric.

     Without hesitation, Alaric did as he was asked. He wrapped his arms around Kestrel and pulled him to his feet. Kestrel wrapped an arm around Alaric’s shoulder to steady himself then raised his free arm in a triumphant gesture despite the searing pain that radiated through his body, indicating the show was finally over.

     “You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard.” Alaric whispered in his ear, his voice tight with emotion.

     Kestrel didn't respond, his heated gaze locked on the ringmaster. The disgusting man had entered the large cage, clapping theatrically, his grin wide, his weapon under his arm. “Magnificent!” He boomed, addressing the audience, and walking past the fairies as if they weren't there. “The wonders of the fairy world. Their resilience is remarkable.”

     As the handlers moved to lower the small cage back down, Kestrel's jaw tightened. The memory of moving through the flames was burning in his mind. His eyes moved to the rod, and he wondered for a second what would happen if he hit the handle hard enough. Would it turn enough to zap the ringmaster in the side?

     “Don't.” Alaric warned as he followed his line of sight, tightening his grip around Kestrel's waist. “We're not strong enough. It weighs more than both of us together.”

    As the handlers lowered the cage and escorted it off the stage, Kestrel collapsed to the floor, his body shaking with exhaustion and agony. Alaric knelt beside him and looked at his badly burned leg.

     “You shouldn't have done so much. You pushed yourself too hard.” Alaric whispered, his voice barely audible over the muffled cheers from the audience not far away.

     Kestrel turned his head, his face pale. “I had to.” He murmured. “Because if I didn’t, he’d break us both. And I won’t let him break you too.”

    The words hung heavy between them as the handlers carried the cage back into the darkness, the echoes of the crowd fading into silence.