Chapter Text
Prince Egbert was a long way from home. His home, with long marbling towers and a cluster of handmaids waiting on his every order. His home, with the endless amounts of jesters his father had hired just for his entertainment that the prince didn't even really like. His home, with his father so buried in work that he barely even saw him anymore. His home, where his nanna used to bake a cake for random occasions, like "Happy 3rd Tuesday of the Month!" His home, where he was the sole heir of an entire kingdom.
Yeah, Prince Egbert was a long way from home.
But he didn't even think of it.
On his way through the twisting forests, he had encountered a stray flyer, advertising for Alternia, the most wondrous and bizarre traveling cirque in all of the universe. John had remembered his father taking him to festivals like that, so he followed the general direction of what the flyer said. What he encountered was a vast landscape of sunsets drenched in pink and the atmosphere building with joy and excitement. There were crowds of people heading towards the towering tents of red and blue, the lanterns illuminating the outside performers and awe-inspired children.
He approached the ticket booth, afraid that the vendor might recognize him as the prince. But he quickly realized the vendor was blind, with flashing red glasses and a mouth full of sharp teeth that grinned wide when he dropped a few coins into her slim fingers. She nodded, and gestured to the rest of the circus without a word. He began to take a step into the circus grounds, when she tugged his arm back, sniffing a little.
"Forgot to ink you," she enunciated, and her tongue poked out a little. She took out a feather quill, dipped it into a blue ink bottle out of an array of colors, and drew a funny little symbol on his hand of swirling lines.
"T-thank you," he stuttered, assuming it was for, and quickly walked away, rubbing his hand cautiously, which only made the ink hiss and burn permanently into his skin. Strangely, it didn't hurt. He was too busy staring at the wondrous contraptions this place had thought of. A man in a double tier bicycle approached him and handled him a soft pink balloon, refusing to accept the coin John pulled out of his pocket, only shaking his head and grinning widely before wheeling away.
The circus itself wasn't one huge big top like he expected. It was a smattering of smaller, cozier tents, all with signs advertising different abilities. Unsure of where to go first, he started his journey to his right, tugging on his long blue jacket that matched his eyes. As he walked by each tent, a different long-legged being would be standing outside the tent, attempting to coax him into the tent.
"Hey, you seem purrfect for my love predictions! I'm paw-sitive! Come on in, I'll tell you what your heart really desires," a yellow eyed girl asked, short and skinny. Her smile was close lipped, beckoning. At first glance, one might think that she was delicate and fragile, but it was quite the opposite. Her muscles were defined, and cut to show rigorous labor in her past.
"Hey! You! Want to see real strength? Come into the tent, there are strong men in here!" A muscular body-builder told him, sweating profusely. His tent was larger, and inside you could see men grunting from their attempts to lift various weights. John took a step back, shaking his head. The yellow-eyed girl rolled her eyes.
"Equius! You're scaring him away!" she said.
"Fiddlesticks. Sorry, sir," he said to the prince, giving a weak smile in apology, showing an array of smashed teeth. John nodded, swallowing fear, and walked on. The calls to enter other's tents only grew stronger, a pressuring build up of performers who were salesmen in disguise.
"I can bring you luck, hot thing-"
"I can show you science! Science! Not fake magic like the other lowly cretins here-"
"Looks like you need a motherfucking miracle, my brother-"
Ignoring them all, his shoes crunched in the sweet spring grass as the gypsy blue moon rose steadily in the sky.
He passed by another tent, that was stark red with no signs or ornaments around it. Only a man, or a boy, John's age, with black sunglasses and blonde hair. He wore a black suit, in stark contrast to the casual and somewhat outlandish clothing of everyone around him. They stared at eachother as the prince walked past, not saying a single word. He was about to say something, when the sunglasses boy retreated back into the tent.
The prince blinked, and tucked his front teeth away into his mouth, which he often did when he was puzzled.
"Care to see your fortune, John Egbert?"
The voice was low and smooth, coming from behind him. John Egbert spun around, raising an eyebrow and pushing up his thick framed glasses. "Excuse me? How d-did you know-"
"I'm a seer. I know everything." Her eyes are a deep purple, reflecting knowledge and wisdom. Her hair was lighter than the blonde boy's, almost a white. Bare feet curled into the grass, and she cradled a crystal ball in her hands. Out of all of the people in the circus, she actually looked like a gypsy, with a bandana wrapped around her head and a swooping skirt that fell in crisp layers. "Besides, anyone could recognize those royal blue eyes. Well, anyone outside of this sheltered circus."
Royal blue eyes. He didn't know that was a thing. John stared blankly, blinking a few times.
"Well, do you want your fortune told or not?" she asked again. He nodded shortly, and she smirked, going into the purple tent. He swept away the beaded door, into the candle-lit room. There were various antiques and miniature statues placed around the room ,and the distinct smell of cinnamon incense. She placed the crystal ball on a rounded table, sweeping her ringed hand over it. Hesitating slightly, he sat in the chair opposite her, trying to smooth his hair.
"Uh, what's your name?" he asked, trying to break the silence.
"Rose Lalonde. Now shush." Without another word, she stared at the crystal ball thoughtfully. She didn't do any dramatics; she didn't wave her hands around and shout gibberish into the air, like John expected. Rose Lalonde didn't seem like the kind of fortune teller who talked shit with zero results. "You've ran away from home."
He didn't need a crystal ball to say that. John could have told himself that. But he didn't want to be shushed again, so he kept his mouth shut.
"And for good reason. Your advisers planning for a coup d'etat? Shame," she continued. John's face whitened, horrified.
"Holy shit you cannot tell anyone about that!" John said, waving his arms about frantically. Oh god, if she told someone, then they told someone else, then he would be captured and put in jail or something. Or his kingdom would seem weak. His bodyguard said to run and not tell anyone what had happened, and that was what he was doing. Oh, jeez, oh jeez! Lalonde smiled softly.
"My lips are sealed. I only speak for the client." She placed her fingers to her black lips. Then she turned back to the ball. "I see a lot of fight. Struggle. Pain. But you are not alone. There are others. I see a fire, with the flames rising higher and higher, reflecting in your eyes. I see much love and hurt."
"Anything specific?" Egbert didn't want this psychic to be some fake, because she seemed like she knew what she was doing.
"Well-" Her tongue curled around the next word, but her eyes focused on something. Rose paused, and grabbed John's hand, pulling it towards her. She inspected the strange ink marking on his hand, her lips crawling into a small smile once again. "Oh, I see."
"What?" John asked, staring at her staring at his hand. Oh wow, he was gonna make his head hurt!
She was about to say something, when the curtain opened again and a short young man with bags under his eyes came storming in. He had an air of arrogance about him, but not the kind royals have. Royalty have their heads held high, because they know that they were born great and can rule to show it. No, this man obviously had to work to earn anything, and the callouses on his fingertips show early labor. He was a fire with multiple coals of hard earned respect.
"Lalonde! What the fuck is this about you and Maryam in…" he saw John there, and his attitude faltered. "Sorry, didn't know you had a client. Didn't mean to interrupt," he was quick to correct, making a move to back away. The older woman quirked a smile, and stopped him with a flick of her wrist.
"Karkat, I'll ignore the fact that you just apologized to me, if you will come over here and see this," Rose said, and gestured for this Karkat to take a look at John's hand, making the heir very uncomfortable. "Look at the marking." After some suspicious eying, Karkat took the hand of the prince, staring down at the blue ink that the girl gave you earlier. John's skin bristled against the contact; Karkat's hands are ice cold to contrast with the flames in his eyes.
"Well shit in an uncle's fucking monkey," Karkat breathed. "Did Terezi give this to him?" he turned to John to address him. "Did a freaky girl with red glasses mark this on you?"
"Yeah," John says, hesitantly. "Didn't she mark everyone? To get in?" He jerks his hand away, subconsciously rubbing against it.
"No," Karkat said slowly, like John was dumb and didn't know anything.
Rose smiled again, looking at John in a completely different light. "Looks like we have our new Breath."