Chapter Text
Nilou couldn’t remember when her career had gone downhill.
She was the star of the Zubayr Theater, a talented, beautiful dancer who received standing ovations with every performance. The merchants of the Grand Bazaar frequently went out of their way to get her special gifts after her dances. A quick glance at her cabinet backstage would reveal an excess of fancy perfumes, beautiful, expensive bouquets of flowers, and all sorts of elaborate trinkets given to her by friends or admirers. Truthfully, she'd never known what to do with those gifts—all she had done in her mind was practice something she loved, albeit on one of the largest stages Sumeru City had to offer.
She was a skilled dancer who put hours and hours into her work, pushing through any signs of injury or fatigue to entertain her massive audience. She spent long hours in her studio, doing the same choreographed moves over and over again. Those who saw her rehearse stared in awe as the dancer, who appeared to be in a trance, moved so fluidly despite hours of work.
Was. The emphasis was on was.
Maybe a year or two into what appeared to be a promising career, she’d woken up to find scales lining her arms. “That’s strange,” Nilou had murmured, but she dismissed it as something minor. Still, the thought lingered all day as she practiced. Those scales- odd. Maybe it is? No, no way it’s Eleazar, she said. It can’t possibly be- Maybe it's something else?
Deep down she knew something was wrong with her—she just hadn't assumed it would be life-threatening.
She hasn't assumed it would threaten her ability to dance.
—
Nilou had hoped her condition was minor enough to allow her to continue dancing. For a while, she was able to. Despite the gray scales slowly climbing up her back and shoulders, she found that her movement was hardly inhibited by her potential Eleazar.
After all, the pain hadn’t set in. Wasn’t Eleazar supposed to be a fatal terminal illness?
For a little while, it had just been a dull pain, only slightly worse than being sore after a long day of hard work. For a little while, could forget about her ugly gray scales and continue her promising dancing career as normal. For a little while, she could step onstage and forget that anything had ever happened. She could put on a smile, a genuine smile, and start the show as normal.
“Welcome to the Zubayr Theater, all!” she’d say before every show. “I’m Nilou! I hope you enjoy the show. We’ve all put a lot of love and hard work into this performance, so please show your support, and again, enjoy!”
For a little while, her audience couldn't tell that anything was wrong.
For a little while, nobody could tell.
For a little while, Nilou couldn’t, either.
—
One cloudy evening, Mr. Zubayr stopped by Nilou’s rehearsal room, a bouquet of flowers in hand. The flowers were an assortment of roses in several different hues of orange, red, white and blue—just like the colors of Nilou’s signature outfit. But the flowers weren’t from him, they were from a dear friend of Nilou’s.
The tag attached to the side read, in a messy scrawl, “Hello, Nilou. I’m sorry that I missed your show. I’m sure you did well. I asked Mr. Zubayr to deliver these for you in advance, since my work has been sending me all over Sumeru lately. Keep dancing. Yours, Cyno.”
Mr. Zubayr knocked on the door with a smile on his face, and an exhausted Nilou answered.
Nilou sighed. “Oh, hi, Mr. Zubayr. Now’s not a good time. I’m sure your flowers can wait. I know I did well.”
Mr. Zubayr raised an eyebrow. “Nilou, you look exhausted. Are you alright?”
Nilou gave a tentative nod. “Yes, Mr. Zubayr. I’m fine,” she said. “I’m just tired. I’m just… tired, yeah.”
Mr. Zubayr’s eyes darted to Nilou’s arms, clenched into fists at her sides. His eyes darted to the gray scales that started to creep up her fingertips.
“Mr. Zubayr, what are you staring at?” Nilou asked.
“Nilou, have you seen your hands?” Mr. Zubayr replied. “You should probably check that out. Archons. That looks like Eleazar, for crying out loud! Are you really that careless?”
“Oh, ah…” Nilou said, staring to the side. “I suppose I should get that checked out. Good night, Mr. Zubayr.”
“Good night, Nilou. Please get that checked out,” Mr. Zubayr said, as he handed her the flowers.
Nilou smiled. “Good night, Mr. Zubayr. I’m probably fine, but… thank you for your concern.”
She closed the door abruptly and glanced at the flowers Mr. Zubayr had handed her. Nilou sighed and stretched out her sore, achy, scale-covered arms one last time—she found she’d needed to do that more recently. She glanced at the worn parchment tag attached to the flowers—a letter from Cyno.
“Keep dancing,” the letter had said.
Keep dancing , she thought. But what if I can’t?
—
The dreaded scales kept creeping up Nilou’s arms and back. Nobody had ever said a word to her, but deep down, everyone knew what was going on. The feeling hung around the Grand Bazaar like a spiderweb. Nobody ever said a word, but deep down they knew that something was wrong with the star performer of the Zubayr Theater.
At first, the scales had been a minor inconvenience at most. But they were visible now, and most regulars at the Zubayr Theater were beginning to notice. After all, her near-transparent sleeves were hardly a help.
A dear friend of Nilou’s, a tailor based in Sumeru City, was willing to help.
“I have to cover this up,” Nilou had said, in a panic. “If people know, my career will be over. You have to help me.”
The tailor had sighed. “Nilou, you should just take a break from dancing. Your health should come first, dear. Maybe go to Bimarstan if the pain is too much for you to handle.”
“Just one or two more months,” Nilou pleaded. “Please, I’m begging you. Just model it off of my old costume, but with more grays and more sequins.”
“Okay, Nilou, I’ll make you a costume just this once. But promise me you’ll seek treatment if it ever becomes too much for you, okay?”
Nilou nodded. “Yes, sir.”
—
The months took their toll on Nilou. After she debuted her new costume, she’d started going out less. Her almost-definite Eleazar had taken a toll. She’d rehearsed less. She couldn’t get any sleep. Eyebags lined her bright blue eyes, and the scales had nearly crept all the way up her arms. She was getting to the point where she couldn’t hide it anymore. But still the thought of one more dance, one more dance was just too promising for her.
Her outfit had stirred up a lot of discussion in the Grand Bazaar. She didn’t know how to feel about that.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you much lately, but I just wanted to say, I love the grays, Nilou!” A textile merchant had said. “It’s almost better than your old outfit. I think it goes better with your headpiece, anyways.”
“Ah, thank you,” Nilou had replied.
The merchant smiled. “Oh, I almost forgot! Here, have some extras. I’m not going to sell these, anyways.”
“You spoil me,” she said, smiling. “But thank you, sir.”
Mr. Zubayr, however, had not taken kindly to the new outfit.
“You’re just trying to hide your condition!” he’d yelled angrily. “You need to put your health first, Nilou!”
“Mr. Zubayr, I assure you, if it ever gets to the point where I can’t dance-“
“It is at that point, Nilou! You should have quit ages ago!”
You should have quit ages ago . Those words echoed in Nilou’s mind throughout the night. And as much as she loved dancing, she knew Mr. Zubayr was right.
She should have gone to Bimarstan.
She should have gotten her stupid hands checked out by a doctor.
She should have quit.
—
Nilou wasn’t going to give up her biggest hobby that easily, but she agreed with Mr. Zubayr that her promising career had to come to an end. The scales had crept all the way up her arms and legs. Her limbs were tense. She could hardly do anything but prepare or rest. So she put on her headpiece for one last show, just one more, when suddenly, she heard familiar footsteps—
“Mr. Zubayr, I thought I told you no guests backstage!” Nilou exclaimed, alarmed.
“Well, ah-” Mr. Zubayr replied. “I think these guests are pretty important to you, Miss Nilou. But take your time if you please.”
Nilou reluctantly put down her hairbrush and fumbled over to her two guests backstage. Immediately, she recognized one of the faces as her dear friend—
“Cyno!” she exclaimed. “I’m so sorry about that- It’s nice seeing you here. And this is…?”
“Tighnari,” Cyno said, gesturing to the dark-haired man next to him with rather peculiar fox ears.
“Yes, I’m Tighnari, Cyno’s, ah- good friend,” the vulpine man continued.
Nilou raised an eyebrow. “And what brings your friend Tighnari here?”
“Don't worry, Loulou. I’d trust him with my life,” Cyno murmured.
Tighnari chuckled. “That's true. He's done that several times, actually.”
“Hey, being the General Mahamatra is dangerous work, Nari.”
The fox-eared man—Tighnari—sighed. “Cyno, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that, especially around strangers?”
Cyno sighed. “Sorry, anyways, about your shows—“
Nilou cut him off. “I’m not performing any more after this.”
“You didn’t hear what we had to say,” Tighnari said. “Cyno and I have recently taken in a child—“
“—One who has Eleazar, that’s very important, Nilou—“ Cyno continued.
“—Yes, and we were thinking that maybe she could see one of your shows,” Tighnari said. “Maybe it would inspire her or something—“
“—or show her that she’s not limited just because of her condition, right?” Cyno finished.
Nilou gave the two a faint smile. “Oh, ah. Congratulations on being parents, I suppose. The both of you. Anyways, I’d be absolutely honored to have your child see my shows, but—“
“That’s amazing! Thank you, Nilou!” Cyno exclaimed.
Nilou sighed. “I wasn’t done talking. It’s my last show, Cyno.”
Cyno frowned. “Your last show—what do you mean it’s your last show? Do you seriously mean—“
“Yes, Cyno. I’m quitting.”
“Well, I suppose your health comes first,” Tighnari said. “I’m so sorry about everything, Nilou. Cyno thinks very highly of your dancing, you know.”
Nilou sighed. “You don't need to tell me that twice. The whole Bazaar expects me to perform on a near-constant basis. I don't want to imagine what their reaction will be when I’m done… or what they'll think of me once it's all over.”
“Well, good luck out there,” Cyno chimed in. “Don't hurt yourself too much. I’m sure they'll understand.”
Him and Tighnari slowly began to turn around and pull the door shut, but Cyno paused halfway to turn back to Nilou and smile.
“You know, for what it's worth, Nilou, that gray costume suits you nicely.”
—
Nilou hesitantly stepped onto the stage, eyeing the gray scales covering her shoulders. While they were covered by her elaborate, showy outfit, now covered in various shades of blue and gray, she still felt their presence.
Her eyes darted to her hands, her delicate porcelain hands, trying to ignore that the gray scales had made their mark there too. She took a deep breath, inhale, exhale , knowing every movement will be pain, every movement will feel like her arms and her legs and her entire body is burning in a fire, every movement-
She inhaled again. Put a smile on her face. Stepped onto the stage. Best not to think about it.
“Welcome to the Zubayr Theater, all!” she exclaimed, with a fake smile on her face as if nothing was wrong with her. “I’m Nilou. I hope you enjoy the show!”
She nervously eyed Cyno and Tighnari in the crowd. They gave her a faint nod as she took her first steps on the stage.
Despite the scales restricting her movement, she was still able to flawlessly execute her simple yet stunning number. She still moved as if nothing had ever happened. But everyone knew that was just a façade.
Despite her fluid movements, she still burned all over. Her feet were on fire. She could barely feel her arms. She felt like she was going to pass out, and then almost as suddenly as it had started, it ended. Nilou took one last breath and took what would be one of her final bows onstage.
“Hello, all,” she murmured into the microphone. “I’m sure you've all heard the rumors about my condition. Well, I’m here to tell you that they're all true, unfortunately.”
The crowd gasped in unison. Nilou could have sworn she saw Tighnari wince.
“I just wanted to say… Despite my lackluster dances, despite my condition I've been struggling with for the past year… Thank you all for supporting me. And thank you for being there for me throughout all of this. But I regret to inform you that this is my last dance for all of you. I need to put my health first. Goodbye, Zubayr Theater.”
And with that, she took her final bow.