"Roland!"
The shout caught him off guard. Few people in Alvadas knew him. He scanned the audience quickly until he saw two Vantha waving. One, a child, waved with both arms, his face beaming. His father waved as well, though one of his hands was firmly planted on the boy's shoulder. "It's me, Ardent!" the boy called, doubling his waving efforts. Roland waved back with a smile, but it wouldn't do to end the performance. The other people looked between him and the Vantha with ambivalence. They didn't care about a reunion.
Before people started to slip away, Roland raised his arms and launched himself forward. His hands hit the mat, his arms straight but not locked in place. With a grunt, he let his arms bend and then launched himself forward to complete the handspring. His head spun with the flip, threatening to dislodge his breakfast. He fought the feeling, keeping his mind on where his limbs were in relation to the rest of his body rather than the ground. His legs braced for impact, and he landed with a bounce. Like catching an egg, he let his body bend with the impact rather than resist it.
No one clapped louder than Ardent, though his father Kalo gave a whoop of appreciation as well. Emboldened, Roland turned and gave a short bow, then continued with his performance. Between every trick and tumble he could hear his two new acquaintances applauding. He'd always worked in front of strangers, expecting showing this side of him to people knew to be embarrassing. Instead, he loved it. Especially with Ardent, it was like he was performing for just one boy instead of the small crowd that had passed through.
Finishing a short run of tricks with a front flip, he found his body suddenly colliding mid-air with a springy net. The audience experienced the same shock that Roland did, as the whole street was suddenly covered with a series of web-like mesh. The illusions spread from rooftop to rooftop, doors to windows, carts to the ground, and even between people, who stopped and shouted in confusion. Roland rolled over on the net he'd landed in, causing it to bounce and shift under his movement. "What in Ionu's blessed petching name?" he muttered under his breath. The mesh stretched across his performing space at odd angles. It seemed the god of trickery had decided to toy with this particular street.
Disentangling themselves from the webs, it seemed people were keen to move on. Not ready to call it a day, Roland bounced out of the net to get to the ground. Instead, he landed on one large section of mesh that stretched across most of his mat. It sprang under his feet, tossing him almost a foot back into the air. Annoyance turned to excitement. "Wait!" he called to the thinning audience. "I can work with this!"
The mesh of the net was tight enough that his feet didn't slip into the holes. It flexed and sprang under his feet, and when he gave it a few small bounces he found that it would propel him higher every time. Alright then. He pushed off with more force, launching himself into the air. When he came back down he tensed his legs like he would after every jump. This time, instead of cushioning his landing, he used it to throw himself higher into the air. Exhilarated, he couldn't help but laugh at the feeling.
The hardest part would be avoiding the other strings of netting over his head, but this would be a fantastic way of earning some extra coin. He pushed the extra air to his advantage. Once he was comfortable jumping, he did a single flip. Then another. Then a backflip. Before long he misjudged some timing and collapsed back onto the net, but found with glee that it didn't hurt a bit.
Before long he found he wasn't the only one bouncing. The Alvads took great joy in their god's trick, and other nets around the street were put to good use. By the time Roland's legs were too tired to go on, the people of Alvadas were taking to the nets like spiders. It was a surreal sight: men, women, and children alike climbing and springing in their business clothes. Roland took a seat on the net he'd used to perform, massaging his calves. The muscles had never been used quite like that before, and they hummed pleasantly. "This is really something, huh?"
Kalo handed Roland his collection basin, heavy with bronze and silver mizas. "Sorry it distracted people from your performance."
Roland shook his head. "If anything it added to it. Ionu can be kind sometimes."
"Truly." Kalo's eyes were trained on his son Ardent, who clambered up a net a little ways away. "Not too high there!" The boy laughed, swinging down to bounce off another net. Kalo's eyes softened. "It's been too long since he's been able to relax like this."
"Are you still troubled by those Priest of the Seasons' fanatics?" Roland asked with concern. They'd met when Kalo and his son were assaulted in the street. Frankly, Roland had expected the pair to leave the city.
"Not like we were. Things have quieted down lately and I was able to get back to work."
"I thought you planned on leaving. Take your family somewhere safe." Kalo frowned, his eyes never leaving his boy.
"No. This is our home."
"I don't get it," Roland insisted. "How can it be your home if you aren't even wanted here?" Kalo stiffened at the comment. "You know what I mean."
"To the average Alvad the Vantha aren't to blame. The people know that. The Speakers are on our side. It's just the vocal few who hate us. And I can weather that. So can Ardent. I don't think he'd want to live anywhere else."
Roland followed Kalo's eyes to Ardent, who was bouncing now with two other children. Their giggles turned to laughter as they took turns bouncing each other higher and higher. Ardent used the height to pull himself into a ball, flipping in the air. Roland laughed, recognizing some of the moves he'd been pulling a few chimes ago. "Well now you have to leave, or he'll be taking my business." Kalo chuckled at that.
"He loved your performance. So did I. You really have a knack for this. How quickly you reacted to the illusions, you were like a true Alvad!" Roland shrugged his shoulders, smiling at the praise. "This is your home too, now."
"I don't know about that."
"No, I mean it. This amazing city... it welcomes all who can accept its whimsy. You told me when we met this was your first season here. But even after that short time, would you really leave if you were threatened like we are?"
"Probably." Roland admitted. "But I'm a coward that way." He stood, emptying the new mizas into his bags. "I won't tell you what to do with your family. If you left, who would cheer me on?"
The two chatted a little longer, but soon the nets began to dissolve into the air. Luckily most people were able to get back to solid ground safely, though their were a few scraped knees. Kalo collected his son and they waved goodbye to Roland. He waved back, pulling his jacket back on. His mat had a few stray piles of dust from the fading nets. Lifting one side he gave the rug a couple of heavy snaps, throwing the dust into the air. When it was clean enough he rolled it back up and lifted the bundle to his shoulder.
This was the worst part, trying to find his way back to his room after a performance. The mat felt heavier than ever, and there was no telling how long it would take to find the Cubacious Inn. But Ionu had been merciful today, so he ignored the pain and got to walking. Maybe the god would be kind once more.
Word Count: 1,347
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