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𝗟𝗨𝗖𝗔 𝗟𝗘𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗫
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Luminos hung low in the sky, lazy golden streaks painting the Fablecraft Amphitheater like it was a canvas. The old stone steps were warm and worn, the sounds of shoes on the steps as families descended down towards the center. Lanterns were strung across the path, hanging from sturdy wires and casting a gentler orange glow alongside the sun’s light. At the center of it all was Luca, a guitar in his hands and curly hair tousled by the gentle breeze. He gave an easy, wide smile in the direction of the forming crowd, earning a few shrieks from a couple of women and an obviously fruity man in the back. When he finished wooing the crowd, he gave a small gasp as he saw a group of younger children rushing forward, weaving between the adults filtering into the rows of seating, his flirty smile shifting into a crooked, honest grin.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀They were immediately surrounding him, clambering up onto his back and clinging to his legs, screams and shrieks also coming from them. And questions—the questions—that Luca couldn’t keep up with. He staggered backwards, more dramatic than necessary, chuckling as he feigned defeat. The easy warmth that he held with everyone around him, mostly children, drew them near like a moth to a flame. “Alright, alright! Hey!” he shouted gently, false indignation in his tone as he held his guitar far up from reach, easily shaking off a critter clinging to his flannel sleeve. “One at a time, critters,” he said, dodging another onslaught of the climbing children. Great Luminos, why did they need to climb? He was a man, not a tree. Probably.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“One question at a time, too! I’ve got one mind, and hardly even then,” he added, finally removing the last of the—one, two, three—six kiddos from his body. The chorus of laughter-giggles could’ve fooled the most stoic man into thinking he’d said the most funny thing in the world.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Did you kiss my mom last night? Was that you?”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Is it true you play so fast your fingers catch fire?”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Can you stop time by playing?”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Did you perform at the founding of the cities?”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Can you make animals dance?”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Can I play your guitar?”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Luca stood, much like that standing person emoji in modern day, blinking as he processed the questions. They were always like this, but the questions got more intense and invasive over time. He had to breathe for a moment every time they started the question pummeling. He loved children, absolutely adored them, but by Lantas were they a handful. “I most certainly did not, sometimes yes, nope—how old do you think I—nevermind—I can ask them to, yup, and absolutely you can!” Luca said in one breath, placing a hand on each kid’s head as he answered. “This guitar’s older than all of you put together, but I trust you lot. After today’s performance, come back up here, y’hear?”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀It was like he offered them a trip to Lantas—the sheer screeches of joy and agitated wiggling and more grasping at his legs and arms were that of children who had been offered the world. Although he supposed their worlds were quite tiny at their stages of life. It felt wonderful to offer them an opportunity that would become core memories, Luca thought.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀One of the girls turned to her friend and whispered with terrifying sincerity, “I’m gonna name it Harold.” Luca pretended not to hear that. Harold was not his guitar’s name.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀He gave a quick clap and ushered them away, shooing gently as they scrambled back to their parents and families. The adults had started settling into their seats now, murmuring with fond amusement, already passing small parcels of sweets and savory snacks as the golden light dipped lower. The amphitheater glowed like a hearth, and Luca, ever the flame at the center, strummed a gentle chord just to quiet the crowd. It worked instantly. Every head turned. Every child dropped mid-giggle into a hush.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Now,” he said, his voice dipping softer but still playful, like a bedtime story with a twist ending, “before I get into any tales about lovesick geese or the outlaw rabbit of Moormist, I wanna start with something a little more . . . hm. What’s the word . . .” He looked skyward for dramatic effect, then turned and grinned with teeth and trouble. “Personal.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀He eased into a seat at the amphitheater’s center, legs crossed as he settled on a comfy stool, guitar resting on his thighs like it had always belonged there. “This one’s for my mama, Lenore,” he said, his smile gentler now and tone more sincere. “She has wit like lightning and a heart like the sun pouring over your skins at this very moment. If you so much as look sideways at her or her people, she’ll flatten your ego and your kneecaps in the same breath.” A few adults chuckled knowingly. The children stared, enthralled solely by his aura and less the words and what they meant.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Luca played the first few notes, slow and soft, letting them linger. The melody was a warm sort of remembrance—the kind that wrapped around you instead of weighing you down. Luca’s momma, Lenore, was not gone, but she was ancient and pure as a dove. The memories made with her had always been his favorites in the world.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“She raised me on wildflowers and warnings,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀With lullabies sung over chores.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Taught me that love don’t always rhyme,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀But it’s worth picking up off the floor.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Her hands, weathered and worn,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The hands of a warrior, bred and born,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀But on my skin and in my life, adorned with warmth.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She said, ‘Boy, the world’s got teeth and hunger,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And it’ll bite if you let it decide.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀But you’ve got a tune and hands built for wonder—
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀So sing it proud, and take your time.’”⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The amphitheater quieted so thoroughly you could hear the breeze ruffle the banners. Kids leaned into one another. Parents held hands without realizing. The fruity man in the back pressed his palms to his heart and sighed so dramatically that someone near him giggled through a tear.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀As the final chord faded, Luca sat back with a breath, like he’d exhaled a story instead of sung it. “That one’s for the great Lenore,” he murmured, thumb brushing the strings. The crowd seemed to understand what he was singing to them, telling them, understanding the woman he spoke of on a deeper level than her being one of the city’s Council members. Luca wanted to cry every time he realized that he could connect with a crowd in such a way, but he kept it in check. Somber to serious in moments, as a performer does. In the next beat, he clapped his hands and sprang to his feet with mock-urgency.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“That’s all for the sickeningly sweet sentiment! Now, who’d like to hear the tale of a giant who fell in love with a frog?”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Prove your worth and loyalty to the Night Riders by stealing something of value from Voxthain. Do not return until you have something interesting, valuable, or sparkly enough for the Boss. We will know if you do not make your find in Voxthain, and we will know if you are an incompetent thief.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The orders swirled around in Blue’s head as they slunk through the alleyways of Voxthain. They had just joined the Night Riders the previous week, and this was the final task before they could be considered a full-fledged Scorpion. The other tasks had been inane and exhilarating, from cave diving to graffiting the Asterath Council building to counting the number of broken bones in a night at the Fighting Ring. Blue didn’t understand why they had to do even half of the tasks they were ordered to complete, but it was fun and new and a change from the suffocating stillness at home. It gave them more of a reason to be out and preoccupied their mind from the things they didn’t want to think about.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀This latest task was the first to take them away from the familiar and comforting twists and turns of Asterath into the bright, cobbled streets of Voxthain. Cogworks was also located in the surface city, so they were comfortable enough in the neighborhood of the school they hadn’t seen in the last week or so. Cogworks was bound to send a letter home about their truancy any day now, but Blue didn’t think anyone would read it or care. Mail was already piled higher than Blue could manage right inside the front door. Sol was rarely home these days to even see it, and when she was there, Blue wasn’t sure that she noticed it. So much had changed in recent years, and Blue had fallen completely off of Sol’s radar. What was the point in going to school when nobody would care about their grades or attendance or accomplishments anyway? Sure, they were going to miss homeroom and lunchtime with Artemisia and talking to their other friends, but they would all move on without them there. If Blue didn’t matter to their own flesh and blood, how would they ever stand a chance in the minds of their peers?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀But all of that didn’t matter anymore. They were going to make a new family with the Night Riders. The Scorpions stood together and cared for each other through thick and thin. They had purpose, had actual fun lives. Blue craved the attention and activity so desperately. They would do anything, complete any task, commit any crime to have it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀After wandering around the neighborhood surrounding Cogworks for nearly an hour with no avail, Blue knew that they would have to go out of their comfort zone to get what they needed. The rest of Voxthain was a clockwork enigma, but they felt confident that they could figure something out. They’d mastered the art of weaving through a crowd, snagging watches and purses and earrings in the bustling markets and Fighting Ring in Asterath, and a crowd in Voxthain couldn’t be that different from what they were used to. They just had to actually find a crowd.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Voxthain was so different from Asterath in every way. Back home, all Blue had to do was follow the echos ricocheting off of the walls of the narrow caves or look for the brightening of lights to find a crowd. Here in Voxthain, the light of Luminos shone down with a ferocity and the sky was so big and open that it carried away any sound. The streets were all so bizarre and labyrinthine that it made it difficult to track where they’d been and if the roads were even leading to something bigger. Just as Blue started to lose hope and daylight to find their way back home, they started to hear something off in the distance. It wasn’t the roar of a crowd but…music?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Yes, that was music all right. Antsy and more than ready to be back underground, Blue broke into a run, covering the last few blocks with an increasing fervor as the music grew louder until they broke through the endless rows of buildings. A wide open space, larger than the meadow by Cogworks, met their gaze, with large stone steps swarmed with people leading down to a central stage. It was an amphitheater, Blue thought the word was, and a massive one at that. Blue did vaguely remember one of their friends talking about seeing a play at some amphitheater near their house in Voxthain. This must have been the place. Jealousy tore through them for a moment, thinking of a life where they could stand with the crowd, surrounded by family, and just enjoy the music.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Life hadn’t worked out for them like that, and they didn’t have the time to stand around and sulk. They had pockets to pick and trinkets to take, and a very distracted crowd to sift through.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀In times like these, Blue appreciated that they were still small enough to slide through a crowd unnoticed, too far below most adults’ field of view to be of note in their peripheral vision. Their pockets filled with rings and watches, dropped toys and loose bracelets, anything they could get their slippery hands on. None of it felt very interesting or valuable (maybe a little sparkly, though), so they kept moving closer and closer to the front of the crowd. For the most part, the music had become background noise just beyond their notice, but they had to admit that the musician was pretty good. In different times, Blue didn’t think they would mind actually attending one of his concerts, if they could figure out his name, that is.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Just as the thought crossed their mind, a song ended and the crowd around them surged forward, screaming and yelling out the name Luca. Well, there you go. His name is Luca…something. The man, Luca, offered to answer questions from kids in the crowd, which felt like a good distraction for the parents close to the front. Maybe Isadora was a fan of Luca and he could swipe some merch off of one of them. As they pushed closer to the front, Blue half-listened to the questions thrown at the singer and his shouted responses, but one comment there at the end caught their notice.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The guitar.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀That was interesting, check, valuable, check, and potentially from a singer that Isadora liked. It was the perfect steal, and they were bound to have an interesting tale along with the abduction. Not only entering into the Night Riders but doing so with a legendary steal would do wonders for their family-acquiring goals.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Cutting away from the front of the crowd, Blue searched for a way backstage. They could lie in wait there for the concert to end, and steal the guitar when Luca was busy canoodling with his fans or whatever it was he did after a show.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The tale of the frog and the giant drew to its ridiculous, laughter-choked end, and Luca bowed with one hand pressed theatrically to his chest. The crowd cheered, clapping in a warm scatter, a few stomps echoing off the amphitheater’s stone as the children shrieked in delight. He set his guitar down with exaggerated care upon the chair he’d been perched on, brushing his palm gently over the worn wood before stepping away. The moment his hands were free, they were claimed by others—smaller, sticky ones tugging for his attention, larger ones reaching for a handshake or clasp of gratitude.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Thanks for coming out, darling, you look far too good in that dress—sir, your beard should be illegal, can I borrow it? No? Fine,” His words were woven in between laughter, his grin flashing quicksilver at men and women alike. He shook hands, bent low to meet children eye-to-eye, offered teasing winks that sent more than a few hearts fluttering. The amphitheater buzzed like a hive, his energy carrying it even as the crowd slowly began to filter away.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A boy no older than ten gripped his sleeve, asking if giants were real. Luca solemnly swore that yes, but they only came out when you ate your vegetables. The fruity man from earlier pressed a flower into his hand, which he promptly tucked behind his ear with all the gravity of a fresh king donning a crown.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The tide of people ebbed away by degrees, leaving the amphitheater a little emptier with each wave. Just at the end of the flow, a little girl toddled forward, her tiny hand tucked securely in the grasp of her grandfather, who leaned heavy on a cane. His face was weathered, sweet and sagelike, smiling faintly as the girl tugged Luca down by the wrist until he crouched in front of her.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“I wanna be just like you when I grow up,” she said with absolute seriousness, her dark eyes shining.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Luca’s breath caught. He gave her a smile that trembled at the edges, then opened his arms in an invitation. She accepted with a leap forward, and he wrapped her in a big, sweeping hug, lifting her just enough to make her squeal. He pressed his cheek to her hair for a second, swallowing the sting in his eyes before setting her carefully back on her feet. “You’ll be better than me, little star,” he whispered with warmth, brushing her hair back from her forehead.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Her grandfather patted Luca’s shoulder, wordless thanks brimming in his gentle eyes. Luca almost didn’t notice when the girl leaned past him, her gaze narrowing suddenly toward the chair onstage. She jabbed a finger at the guitar and gasped.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“We’re not allowed to touch that!” she scolded someone with all of the fury in her little soul. Luca spun around, confused and a tad concerned, eyes wide and searching for the source of her reprimand.
