The Theater

The sun shone through the curtains of the tiny forest home vivaciously, as if trying to prompt its inhabitants to get out and delight in its warm rays. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and Benedict couldn’t be happier to be doing nothing but lay on the couch in the sunbeams and take a nap. The past week had been a long one - a lot of criminals had been on the loose recently and making themselves known in the town nearby, leading to their capture by his and Althea’s hands. Though he felt happy with his job and knowing he was one of the gods hands in enforcing justice, he couldn’t help but feel awfully worn out by it from time to time.
The smack of an envelope on his face caused him to groan, his eyebrows crinkled up in annoyance. He refused to open his eyes and face Althea, who was surely hovering over him and waiting for him to open his eyes.
“Aw, c’mon, Bennie! Up and at ‘em! We just got an order from Their Highness themself!”
The wrinkles in his brow grew deeper as he rolled over, ignoring the situation entirely. If he wanted to sleep, he had a right to sleep. Whatever fate had in store for him could wait until he woke up.
“Beeeeeeenediiiiict…”
A muffled groan in response. No. Not today.
“C’mon, buddy… This one’s real interesting, I promise! We’re searching for a pair of people, this time. They’ve eluded capture thus far, but Their Highness says they think we can catch them! If we do, we’ll be loads closer to tracking down Yunvei, and y’know what else?”
Benedict rolled over even further, bringing his pillow to his ears so he could muffle her words.
“They’re supposed to be performing at a theater a little ways away from here!”
Finally, something he cared about. Hesitantly, he dragged the pillow from his ears and opened his eyes. Gods, the sun was blinding. As he’d guessed, Althea was looking down at him, that usual bright smile spread across her face. Her arms had spatters of some strange, orange fluid, a sign that she’d been working recently. Her red eyes were bright but a little sleepy, her long, blonde hair framing her face. Benedict looked up at her with still tired eyes.
“...Were you working all night?” he asked.
“Morning to you, too, sleepyhead!” she chuckled. “I was! I think I’m getting close to a solution to everything. If we’re able to get blood samples from Yunvei when we find him, everything from then on should be a piece of cake!”
“Mm…” he yawned, slowly sitting himself upright on the couch and re-opening the envelope. He pulled the letter out, quickly reading it over.
To Mr. and Mrs. Certra -
I request your assistance once again. I have sent countless detectives to search for a certain pair of people, but no one has succeeded as these two happen to be very adept at hiding and leaving when they realize that something is amiss. They also seem to be protected by a strange force of some kind. I am of the belief that they communed with Yunvei, are at least somewhat protected by him, and may know of his true whereabouts. Knowing the calibre of both of your work, I believe that you will be able to catch these two, dead or alive. It should also help you with your main mission, capturing Yunvei.
The people in question are both Strelan men. They often wear gloves to cover their pads, so you will not be able to find them by looking at people’s hands in a crowd. One of them has purple eyes while the other has green. The one with green eyes bears a strange, black, scar on his left shoulder. They both have short, white, hair. They were last seen wearing traditional Strelan garb. I have been told that they are likely to perform in the Namak theater later tonight.
Also, congratulations on the wedding. May the gods bless you and your marriage.
From the desk of Their Highness Lord Murcco
“Strelans, huh…” Benedict muttered, folding the letter carefully and placing it into the envelope again. He chewed the inside of his cheek, deep in thought. “We haven’t had to capture one of them in a while, have we? The last one has to have been ten or eleven years ago.”
Althea nodded in response. “That sounds about right. They’re mostly do-gooders from my experience. And even with the one from a while back, he wasn’t all that bad! We were just sent to help kill him,” she paused for a moment, her expression softening, eyes half-filled with guilt. “I still feel bad about it, to be honest.”
“That was just his fate. The gods willed it, and it happened. We only served as their hands in the incident,” Benedict replied, getting up and stretching his arms far above his head. “I gotta say, I’m excited to go to this theater. Its been a while…”
“Yeah, me too!” Althea agreed. “I’ve never enjoyed the theater very much, but I think we both need the break, and doing stuff with you’s always great!”
His cheeks heated up at his wife’s comment and he looked away, biting the insides of his cheeks again and causing her to laugh. “...Let’s get going as soon as we can.”
-
The crisp night air bit into the pair’s skin, making them both wish that they’d brought a few more layers. The trip to Namak had been quick and easy - it turned out that the town was only around an hour away on horseback, and the weather had been favorable. The pair had neglected to remember, however, that it was turning to fall, so it was getting colder and colder.
The two got off of their horses and tied them to a post outside of the theater. Benedict looked over his clothes briefly before making any movement towards the door. They’d gotten dressed for their night out, Benedict wearing a black tux and pants paired with a red shirt and black bowtie while Althea wore a similar outfit, though hers had opposite colors. As they walked to the entrance, he leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured softly, taking hold of her hand.
She chuckled and pulled him down to kiss him on the lips. “And you’re handsome. C’mon, the show’s about to start!”
They walked into the theater hand in hand and took their seats on the edge of a row. The theater was somewhat filled, only some spaces remaining. Althea judged that they were probably some of the last people to show up. As the lights dimmed, the show began. There were dancers, and singers, and everything in between. At one point, there was even a magician. And yet, none of them matched the description that they’d been given.
Just as Althea was starting to nod off, Benedict tugged on her sleeve gently. She squinted up at the stage sleepily, and, walking onto it were two people. They wore suits with the familiar squiggles and dots of Strelan clothing designers, a long strip of orange fabric tucked into one edge of it for both of them, connecting them. Their faces were covered by bear masks, and their hair was stark white.
“White hair,” Benedict whispered as the one on the left took out a wooden viola, its dark brown a stark contrast to the rest of their outfits. He rested it on his shoulder hesitantly, as if something just wasn’t right about it, but shrugged it off. He then took out his bow and rested it against the strings before releasing a sorrowful first note. Soon enough, his companion began to sing.
“Yeh zairfo vinsho shodv yeh Korsr paiesh poorors ko’sh yar Korsr vzair maev nufo vzairaevr Korsr vaed foeno yeh’n orsee
Yeh zairfo, nuvsee Nosko yeh Shodv yeh korsr yehsaed Pormeerors
Nuvsee shodv yeh Yehsee fov eev vshoceeyak Yehsee fov vzairpo’ yehseesho vzairporr Ceeyaee porsho yeh yehoo, vinshokaer Vinshokaer shovin orsk zairyaors
Insair raemporr Insair vineshko Insair fosceepor korsr vnuya Ee’n orsk ye’oonsho raedvr
Eeno aedno seek vees? Eeno aedno seek vees? Yeh poroo no’os snew seek nuyakors, Yeh inaedya, yeh veeksho
Yeh rees insair orsk ye’oonsho Yeh rees insair orsk al Ruunah no’os snew seek nuyakors in nuyakors.”
The haunting melody carried itself through the theater and Benedict and Althea almost felt as though time was standing still. When the song was finally over, the boy on the left carefully set his viola back into its case. The audience was silent for a moment before exploding into applause. The pair took a bow, the boy on the left picking up the case with care and walking backstage with his companion. Althea looked over at Benedict, gesturing with her head towards the door. He nodded, and the two of them quickly sped out.
Their footsteps pounded down the hallway as they searched for the backstage area. There it was, a door in a little nook at the end of the hallway, completely unguarded. Perhaps they didn’t think anyone would be interested in coming by.
Benedict opened the door quickly and hustled in, Althea following close behind. The room was large, mirrors set up in the corners and on the walls so that the performers could look nice before their performance. The floor was wooden, but a ratty, circular, purple rug was set in the middle of the room. There were desks and cabinets along the walls, and many performances were dressing up in their casual clothes once again.
All except for those two, in the corner. The ones who were eagerly gulping down water and who were still dressed in their concert clothes, clearly just having gotten off-stage. Althea noticed them first and bounded towards them with a friendly spring in her step.
“What a lovely performance you two gave!” she exclaimed with a bright smile. It was as if all her sleepiness had worn off, Benedict thought to himself.
“Oh, th -” The boy who’d been singing began to speak, at least Althea was sure that it was him given the sound of his voice. But he was cut off when his companion gently punched his shoulder and shook his head.
“Eev’yen…” The viola-player murmured.
Althea tilted her head at that, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Eev’yen? What’s that supposed to mean, huh? Is that the same language as that song you sang?”
The singer shuffled his feet tensely, eyeing Althea, then Benedict, who was far taller. The viola-player was slowly putting his hands behind his back. “You’re asking an awful lot of questions…” the singer murmured.
“And you’re not giving an awful lot of answers,” Benedict muttered, glaring down at him.
There was a grim silence in the air, a tension begging to be released. Suddenly, in a flash of white light, the viola-player spread his palms out in front of him, releasing a blast of icicles from the floor. They left a haze of mist so dense that neither detective could see through it. The two could hear the performers’ footsteps as they sprinted away. But now was not the time to get delayed by something as inconsequential as an attack meant to divert their attention. Althea quickly reached into her bag and retrieved an axe. It glowed green briefly before she swung it into the icicles, smashing them to smithereens. As she did, a gust of wind also blew the mist away, showing them that there had been stairs behind the two performers.
Without any hesitation, Benedict and Althea sprinted up the stairs. They could smell the crisp night again, and then they were there on the roof. On the other side of the roof, the performers were there, pacing around and looking down the edge of the building as if trying to figure out where to go from there. Benedict couldn’t help but laugh. They clearly hadn’t thought out any escape routes.
“Give it up, you’re cornered!” Althea shouted. The performers froze, turning their attention to the detectives. “If you don’t put up a fight, you’ll come out of this whole deal unscathed! So, just let us take you, okay?”
The wind blew fallen leaves through the area. It was a full moon tonight, and the stars were out. The performers didn’t respond, but she could see them talking to each other, one of them reaching for what seemed to be a knife strapped somewhere under his suit.
“No response, huh… Gee, I really hate to do this,” she murmured, digging around her backpack for a ponytail holder. She tied her hair up messily while Benedict put his hands together.
“They did say dead or alive, I suppose… It’s as the gods will it. If we can catch them without killing them, that’ll be all the easier,” he replied, closing his eyes. He then spread his arms out, and four more pairs, detached from his body and floating by his sides, appeared, each wielding a different weapon. The weapons and arms were all hazy, black and blue and purple.
“Now, times up for deliberation!” he shouted, letting an arrow fly with one pair of arms. It flew towards its target at a merciless speed, and yet, both performers dodged in sync. As soon as they did, they both spread their arms out wide, icicles appearing before them. They shot towards the detectives, half of them falling short and piercing the ground instead. Benedict chuckled to himself. There was a clear power imbalance here - him and Althea would definitely win.
Althea sped towards the remaining icicles, her palms glowing light green. She spun around, almost as if she was dancing, and a tornado flew out, picking up each icicle and throwing them back. The boys, obviously shocked, took a moment too long to dodge, one of the icicles slicing the one on the left’s cheek. He reached for it with a hand and pulled it back when it stung.
In the midst of the flying icicles, Benedict came hurtling forth, each arm ready to use its shadowy weapon. When he reached the boys, he thrust his lance arm, then his sword arm, hoping to catch them off guard. Again, they dodged both attacks in sync, as if they didn’t want to be separated. Frustrated, he continued swinging out, and the boys kept sidestepping. Why couldn’t he hit them? He’d never met anyone this synchronized with someone else before. But, maybe it was fine. They were clearly getting a little worn out from all this dodging, never lashing out themselves. Althea didn’t even have to help at this point.
“Leave us alone!” the performer on the right, the singer, shouted. As he did, a wall of ice shot up from the ground in front of him, preventing Benedict from advancing. He hit the ice repeatedly, but it was clear he needed more power to get through. The performers watched him from the other side of the ice, talking to each other quietly and looking around.
“Let me try!” Althea shouted. As she dashed towards the wall, the pair held hands, faint light beginning to surround them. She bore down on the wall and it shattered instantly, but, just as she did, the light around the performers grew brighter and brighter until she and Benedict had to shield their eyes.
When they opened them, there was a huge polar bear standing before them, an orange scarf tied around its neck and with five eyes. It assumed a battle stance before growling loudly. Althea gazed up at it with wide eyes and whistled.
“Wowie… The amount of magic power it’d take to assume a form like that… I wonder how they managed to fuse together...” she murmured. She rubbed her palms together, a habit Benedict knew meant she was extremely interested in something. He couldn’t help but smile.
“We can ask questions later. I mean, honestly… This form would only serve to scare away lesser detectives, right? Who do they think we are?” he chuckled.
Althea nodded, grip tensing on her axe. “We’ve dealt with fused creatures before, but never people. The usual should work. After all, most of their makeup at this point is magic energy. If we split ‘em down the middle… They’ll be fine.”
Benedict grinned. “I’ll go first.”
The man shot a flurry of arrows at the beast quickly, his fingers flying with each shot. It roared, batting them out of the way before Benedict leaped over it, shooting arrows onto its back. They left small gaps, as if the bear was just an empty husk underneath. It roared again, whirling around to try and reach him but to no avail. At that moment, Althea began charging forth. As if by instinct, it turned its head towards her and narrowed its eyes. It got on its hind legs and bore down onto the ground with its front paws, ice covering the ground starting at its paws.
But Althea had been anticipating this. She leapt into the air and swung her axe down on the beast’s head, slicing it vertically. Its form shuddered for a moment and it roared, its legs shaking, then buckling. It began to shimmer, and then, as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared, leaving the two performers on the ground groaning. By some miracle, Benedict observed, they were still connected by the scarf. He walked towards the one that he assumed was the viola-player and pinned his arms down while Althea did the same for the singer.
“Now, let’s see who’s under this mask…” She murmured, beginning to pull it off gently. All at once, the other boy cried out.
“Don’t touch him!” he screamed, trying to shake Benedict off. Icicles began appearing underneath him, ready to shoot up and penetrate the far bigger man. But, all at once, Benedict’s shadow expanded over the boy, consuming each and every one of the icicles. Despite the fact that he was clearly outmatched, the boy continued to squirm, icicles disappearing as soon as they reappeared. Benedict looked over at Althea and nodded, leading her to take off the mask. When it was off, she gasped, letting it fall to the hard ground under them.
Benedict, hearing this, raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“You’re… a child…” she gasped, getting up and taking a step back.
The boy was opening his purple eyes now, the one pinned down by Benedict taking in deep breaths before wheezing a reply. “Who were you expecting? Beyoncé? Some criminal mastermind?”
Benedict looked at him in annoyance, then at Althea with worry. The other boy gave a dry cough, then started laughing. “Nice one, Num.”
“Thanks Ísja, but also, we’re in a real shitty situation right now, so maybe don’t use my name and we might be able to leave here alive,” the first boy replied.
“...Didn’t you just use my name, though?” Ísja laughed.
“Enough!” Benedict shouted, causing the two boys to freeze up. “Althea, what is it? We caught them and they clearly understand that they’re nothing against us.”
The woman was pacing back and forth, anxiety written plain on her face. “These are literally children… These are literally children,” she murmured repeatedly. Her hands went to her hair, her ponytail undone, and she ruffled it. “Bennie, these are literal children… We can’t send them to Firan! They’ll get executed!”
“I could end it here, if it’d be easier,” he offered.
“No, Benedict!” she shouted, eyes ablaze. “They don’t deserve death! They haven’t even done much wrong from my understanding! Maybe we can take them in and I can study them!”
The man stayed silent for a moment before replying, weighing his options. At what felt like an eternity, he responded. “They’re war criminals, Thea. The gods willed us to catch them. It was their fate.”’
“How do you know their fate isn’t to be freed by us?!? How do you know, Benedict!” she shouted, fists clenched. Her eyes were full of tears, causing his stomach to drop. He loosened his grip on Num’s arms.
“We’re setting them free. I don’t care what Their Highness has to say about this… Maybe they won’t find out, if we’re lucky. Let him go, Benedict.”
The man stared at his wife for a moment, taking in the night air. The moon was sinking below the horizon, the sky tinging with pinks and oranges. He closed his eyes, breathed in deep, and let go of Num. The boy stared up at him with wide eyes, not daring move lest he change his mind. Benedict stared back at him with narrowed eyes.
“Step out of line again and we won’t let you get off easily,” he muttered, approaching Althea.
Ísja got to his feet, looking up at the couple with wide, afraid eyes before helping Num to his feet. The younger brother snorted with irritation, glaring at them before leading his and his brother’s escape downstairs.
The sun was bright in the sky, now. It left behind its trail of pinks and reds before they faded to blues. Clouds were scattered across it haphazardly, like someone scattered splotches of white paint at random.
Benedict and Althea were completely silent on the way home.