True to what Ryu and Ryder had claimed, the entertainers turned out to live up to their name, and Ike had no regrets about going with them to the village. Even as he first stepped out of Ryu’s home he could tell that the day should be entertaining enough, as he caught sight of a man breathing fire as though it was the most natural activity in the world. A plume of flames erupted from his mouth, and he twisted them through the air, then caught them in his hand and began to form the fire into words and shapes that stayed in the air, burning their presence there.
Upon catching sight of the approaching quad, he extinguished the flames with a simple wave of his hand and looked towards them cheerfully, a bright smile coloring his face. Ike had brought a small handful of coins with him, knowing from past experience that when one enjoyed a performance it was considered proper respect to give the performer a tip for their talent.
However, unlike some entertainers, this group did not seem entirely interested in activities such as fire-breathing. The fire-breather strolled away from them, almost as if leading them on, and Ike and his group followed him to the edge of the village, walking through rows of brightly colored. When they came to a stop, the man turned around and nodded as though he had expected them to follow, and then clambered up onto a hastily set up stage where a woman in the reddish suit of a dancer was, naturally, dancing.
Ike had never been much of one for such a mundane act but had to admit that there was some talent involved, and he heard Ryder whistle at the woman. The fire-breather, still acting completely natural, began to erect pillars of flame and other obstacles in the path of the woman, all of which she managed to avoid with some talent, her fiery hair blending in with the flames at times.
A few passerbies had tossed coins in interest, and the inflow increased as the flames around the woman increased, threatening danger which she continued to ignore. Ryder stayed behind, but Ike was drawn away by a small booth, where a woman was sitting with a bored expression on her fair face. She was thin and dainty, looking strange in comparison to the rest of the roughened entertainers, who obvious had plenty of experience with hardship and traveling.
The woman glanced away from the performing dancer with a start as she caught sight of Ike and quickly sat up, flushing as she realized that she had been slacking. A rickety, old, wooden table sat in from of her, and was completely empty. On one side was the chair the woman was sitting on and on the other side a chair for anyone who came by to sit in.
“Just what are you supposed to be?” Ike asked curiously; it was not often that an entertainer would sit behind such a bland booth, especially with no advertising placed around. “Most people try to be a lot more bright and colorful, you know.” The woman was about his age, and her hair was long and hung down her back, a strange dirty-blonde color more unique than even Helen’s.
“If I’m running such a bland booth then why did you come to look at it?” She replied calmly and in a cheerful, friendly tone.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” he said.
“Satisfaction brought him back,” she finished, “But I guess that curiosity is what keeps my booth alive.”
“And you still haven’t told me what you do, miss…?”
“Iris, and you?”
“Ike.”
“Short name for such a big man, seems more like it would be the name of a brute. I tell fortunes.”
“I guess I’ll take your first part as a compliment, your name sounds a bit like that of a messenger of sorts, very colorful.”
“A messenger? I can’t say that I’ve heard that before.”
“Maybe you deal too much with brutes named Ike.”
“True enough that might be my problem. So, do you want your fortune told or did you just come here for small talk?”
“Well, I don’t have a problem with small talk and I can’t say I’m much of a fortune kind of guy.”
“You don’t think the future is preordained or are you just not willing to pay for what I can tell you?”
“I’d say the former of the two,” Ike answered.
“What if I was to tell you that there was darkness in your future?”
“I’d wonder if that meant that there’s a bad crop season coming up,” Ike answered, “My life is too simple to have anything else bad happen really.” Inwardly, though, he thought back to Iseult, who was being sheltered at their farm still, and shuddered; could it be possible that he had been right that she would be bringing misfortune to them?
“You really don’t care much, do you? Maybe you should let me try just to see what I might be able to tell.”
“I don’t know if that’ll be worth it,” Ike answered, “Wouldn’t you rather be able to make more money than be stuck here looking at my palm for a divination I won’t believe in?”
“I might be able to prove you wrong about fortune telling, though,” she replied, “Besides, getting to know someone is better than just telling a bunch of different people what I think I can see about their future.”
“You probably can’t prove me wrong though, especially with what you just said about only being able to tell what you think you see about someone’s future.”
“Even if it is only what I think, how do you know that it’s not right? It usually seems to be.”
“Fine, then, other than darkness, what do you think you see in my future?” Ike retaliated, still somewhat skeptical of the woman and her abilities.
“Okay, maybe I can’t see the future,” she answered, “I just wanted to see what you said.”
“Then don’t you feel a little bit dishonest about lying to people about what you think you see?”
“Is what I do really so bad, though? I bring some degree of hope to people through my ‘lies.’ It brightens their day, and more often than not the fact that they expect something good to happen makes them pave the way for it to happen, meaning it does come true.”
“To an extent. Would it still be true if you didn’t tell them about it and set them on the trail to prepare for it?”
“No, not usually at least,” Iris admitted, and Ike allowed himself to grin, believing that he had effectively proved his point.
“If we’d lived a few centuries ago I might be willing to believe you about being able to use magic to see the future, but not now.”
“Who says it involves magic?”
“It doesn’t, because it isn’t real,” Ike answered, still as sure as he had always been.
“I can see that this argument won’t end with me winning.”
“At least you’re smart,” Ike said with a wink, and heard the energetic voice of Itar behind him, making him turn. Apparently he was finished with whatever amusement he had been looking at, and his brother was still hot on his brother’s tail, a protective look on his face.
“Ike! Whatcha doin’?” Itar asked as he stood next to the chair Ike was seated in.
“Nothing,” Ike said with a laugh, glancing over as Ryu caught up to his somewhat troublesome younger brother. “Just talking to this lady here.” To Ryu, he added, “I can see the family resemblance; you were just as energetic when we were his age.”
“At least I didn’t have to get chased down by my family, though, you and Ryder and the others always managed to keep up with me.” Ryder briefly glanced over after the wind carried his name to him, and then turned back to the stage. The woman who had been dancing was no longer onstage, but the fire-breather was staging an elaborate performance which obviously had caught Ryder’s attention.
“Come on, Ike!” Itar was already waning in interest and turning away from Iris; not wanting to leave his friend on his own, Ike decided to follow, turning back to nod at the form of Iris as he departed. She gave him a brief smile and then resumed the sleepy disposition she had had before his arrival.
It turned out that the object of Itar’s interest was a juggler who was tossing knives into the air and continually catching them with undiminished skill characteristic of an indefinite period of practice. At first only three knives whirled through the air, and then four, and finally five, the silver blades whirling around quickly and yet somehow managing to avoid stabbing their master.
Nearby, another man had strung up a rope so thin that Ike had difficulty even seeing it. Atop this rope, the man was dueling another man mid-air, neither of them bothered by the height and instead keeping all their focus on their sparring partner. The craftsmanship displayed was impressive, especially considering that both men managed to continually avoid would-be fatal blows with artistic flourishes.
Then there was another man who was spinning glass plates on his fingers, somehow managing to keep all of them balanced at once and risking dropping them. Ike knew from seeing them around the market that the plates were easily worth a considerable sum of money, and this only gave the man more motivation to keep them balanced.
Slowly, as the time passed the day turned into night, and Ike slowly found that he had no choice but to return to the farm, but would be sure to return the following day, assuming he managed to finish his work quickly enough; Saturdays had a tendency to be somewhat easy work days.
Surprisingly, as he made his way out of the village, he turned back and regretted leaving so soon, making him chuckle a bit from the irony of it.
