Gods & Monsters

Part 3 - The Scorched Temple

River wandered barefoot, the icy water saturating his feet as the temple crumbled like chalk around him. He knew where he walked to, had taken this same walk every night since he'd become a man. He could smell the smoke of burning heartwood, of the hyacinth and roses she grew, their perfume seeping into his brain till he was heady with their richness.

Then there she was. River's life may belong to the circus, but his dreams, his dreams belonged to her.

Kneeling before the fire, her hair flowing down her shoulders like milk, skin like a still lake, mirroring the flames that flickered before her. She turned when she saw him; her full lips parted, amber eyes open and unguarded. Their gaze offering, not devouring. Of all the dreams they shared, it was the simple joy in her expression that left in speechless, humble in its power to move him. He did not deserve such devotion, not when his soul was sour from years of being used by those with the riches to sway Villeneuve into selling. What was left of him was rotted and hollow. Her loving gaze filled him till he was overflowing.

"River." She said his name like a sonnet, uttered with rich emotion. He almost looked away, but the dreams were fleeting and moments like this were worth more than every coin or jewel River's body could ever earn. He needed to take what he could. "You're here."

She took to her feet, robes dragging through the water, darkening the lavender fabric. She walked to him, placing a hand on his chest, touching the skin above his heart.

"What's happening?" His eyes took in the temple. The pillars had collapsed, the black expanse of sky visible where the ceiling had once been. The seawater rising around them.

Her lips drew together in the smallest of smiles, a touch of sadness darkening the corners.

"Time has caught up with us, my love."

A wall next to them crumbled, sending dust the colour of bone into the air. It floated up to the night sky, meeting the stars above their heads.

"No... what does that mean?"

Her hand went to his face, tracing the lines like she was memorising him, her thumb caressing his lip with a tenderness that made him ache.

"Time is a puzzle, River. The more I say, the less it comes to pass."

She shook her head, those lips parting once more. She reached up to place them on his, her kiss a softness, a tattoo on his heart.

"No more words. If these are our last moments, let's seize them."

The temple shattered around them, fracturing like thunder. The tide rose, carrying away the wreckage - all nothing against the sounds of desire, of moans in the dark.

After, when they had kissed the salt off each other's bodies, their pulses quick from where they fell together, only to come apart, River could feel himself disappearing. Could feel the call of daylight tearing him away from this sacred place. From her.

Her tears dropped like oceans onto his chest.

"Will I ever see you again?" He asked, turning to her; her face already fading from view, already burnt away by the rising of the sun.

When River opened his eyes, sunlight scorched his vision away, and she along with it. Leaving him alone in the white.

🎪

Time moved onwards, as time does. Gently, the heat of summer faded, turning into the chill of Autumn. During the day, River spent his hours in the tent with the Beast and her creatures. Together, despite her reluctance, they trained. At sunset he was the Strongman, performing his feats of strength against the sound of gasps and cries, and when the sky turned black, full of a richness of stars he performed once again, for whoever offered Villeneuve the highest coin.

On one such night, River stumbled up the dirt road back towards the circus. The bottle he had taken from the Baroness's chamber was nearly empty, and he intended to consume every drop until the night became a mere shadow. He had not dreamt of her since, and he missed her in ways he longed to forget.

The carriages and tents he passed were silent, the gods and performers of the circus drinking away the remnants of another show by the fire. He could hear the laughter from across the field. There was little peace in this life, but what there was they found in the company of each other.

"For a man with claims of servitude, yet again, you smell of indulgence, Strongman."

River turned his head, the world hazy. The Beast's buttery eyes peered at him through a small gap in the animal tent. River wandered inside, her animals hissed and howled at him through their cages.

No longer forced to endure just her cage, Villeneuve allowed her to roam the animal tent. She sat in the centre, a strangely regal sight with her held peering at him from its great height.

"We're not slaves. According to the church, we're performers. And some of us perform long after the curtain is drawn", River slurred, his thoughts fracturing as the wine did its job.

He began to wander away from the tent. His skin throbbed and itched. He needed the solace of the lake, the icy chill of the water, freezing his skin until it burned.

River felt her staring. Her burning eyes held something in them. Something he never enjoyed seeing.

"Don't give them everything. The church, the crowds, the Ringmaster, keep something. Even if you can't keep your pride, keep your soul."

River, with his golden hair and eyes the colour of the ocean she missed so deeply, was not what he appeared. She had seen so many things, so many souls had passed through her island, but she had known none like him.

"And have you kept your soul, Strongman?"

River faltered, surprised by the question.

"Them. They're my soul." He pointed in the direction of laughter, of music and dancing. Of the gods and performers, he'd made his family, his home.

She was silent for a long time, long enough for River to sink clumsily onto the hay-coated floor and drink more wine.

"Before the war, before I was cursed, I lived alone. Men came, sailed on ships as wide as the sea. They were animals, lower than animals, so I enchanted them, made them what they truly were." The Beast swallowed, lost in a daze of the past. "I know the look in the eye of someone who wants what they see, but sees nothing. There are some things, Strongman, as you know, that once taken, cannot be given back."

River nodded at her.

"I don't think... I don't think I have anything left to take."

"Then let someone else carry this burden."

He chuckled, pouring more wine down his throat, a streak of red sullying his cheek.

"I'm not a clown or a juggler, I'm the strongman of the Circus of Thorns, it's for me to carry such burdens. It's what I can do, what I can do for them. I can carry this weight, so none of them has to."

"Your family."

"Yes."

He smiled, and she watched him. Her eyes lighting up the dark shadows that filled the tent, the glow warming him from within.

"Goodnight, Beast."

"I think Strongman, that if you had come to my island, I wouldn't have turned you into a beast."

"And if I'd come to your island, I'd have given you no reason to."

He smiled and walked away, unaware of the golden eyes that watched him leave.