People are whispering anywhere, even near the church.
No place is safe now. One mistake and words flood crazily. One wrong step and you're out of the society. Nyx, the orphan girl understands this well.
But the circus, the Étonnant Lubrique Circus - they never sleep, really. Even in the darkest night filled with uneasiness, laughter and sounds of magic are still heard. Avique the ringmaster welcomes anyone there, anything.
Shape-shifting faeries, dragon tamers, a wicked story teller, mid-air ballerina, and the mysterious ringmaster himself... such enchanting tales Nyx found herself in.
But every dream ends, and so must this one.
"Welcome, one and all, to the Ghostly Circus of the Died Land," the Ringmaster intoned, their words reverberating through the air like the tolling of a bell. "Prepare to be entertained, and unsettled, in equal measure."