Hellamorgue

Chapter 17: Ally

"Everything used to be okay. I was happy. I was thankful.... Because people were there for me. I live for their praises... I strive for the best, because everyone was there behind my back." the jester solemnly narrated. Eyes were half closed, his sight was locked on the grasses that gently danced with the breeze. The man's gleaming red eyes that were once full of secrets was now being told.

Mort delivered his downbeat story, with a weak and bleak voice. Beside the unfortunate clown, his four-eyed friend courteously sitting, with his hands resting on his lap and crossed together. He was in his all ears. Silence gave the jester a stage to carry out his deed, his lonesome tale. His raspy voice shuddered as he spell out each words and sentences.

"And now... they all hate me..." he paused. Mort crinkled his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes to the ground. His lips quivered. "All of them." he continued.

"But I don't hate you." Yves inserted with a calm voice, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

"Of course... Ahaha." the jester chuckled nervously. He straightened his back and stretched out a bit. He arched it back afterwards. He moved his head beside and looked at the teal haired man. "That's a different case."

Yves smirked proudly at the jester's face. Mort reacted back with an unsteady grin on his face, slightly embarrassed with the situation. Yves adjusted his eyeglasses with his fingers covered with glove. He turned his face forward and stared at the grass. The horned man shrugged and continued his story. Each phrases was wrapped with guilt and regret. And everytime he opens his mouth, was burdened by his heavy feelings, that was kept for a long time. With no one to speak with, the harsh memories filled the bottle inside his heart, too full to contain more hate and sorrow. Yves never showed any sympathy on his face but paid his attention at the clown beside him. The merchant and the house were the only witnesses to the struggling clown's confession. Under the white porch, the horned man cleared the heavy air as he finished his narrative.

"So that's what happened..." the four-eyed man commented. His eyes were avoiding his friend's.

"Yeah..." Mort replied while stroking his nape. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Everything went downhill and I ended up in the way how I live today.." he spoke while looking above the sky.

Yves went silent. He glided his eyes around and was caught by the attention of a red suitcase beside the clown. He glanced at the quiet horned man who was looking at the sky. The four-eyed man got an idea what was inside the bag. But he didn't point it out instead, to make everything sure, he called for the jester to ask a question.

"Mort." he called softly.

The clown looked at him with a puzzled face. "What?" he replied.

"What was inside that suitcase?" the man asked while looking at the red luggage.

Mort moved his head to his right and looked down. He stared at the red suitcase that collapsed on the ground. He remembered he yanked it out earlier. His eyebrow curled and bit his quivering lip. He erased his sight off the suitcase.

"This? It's my jester costumes and props." he answered.

As expected, the four-eyed man's guess was right. But, it wouldn't be outside his house without a reason. There has to be an intent on it. Yves knew what could be the reason, he was intelligent enough to conclude the answer. But he doesn't want to confirm it by speaking out himself instead he wanted the jester to confess it himself. He continued interrogating the clown to know more about his intention. He asked him one by one and not bombarding him several questions at one time.

"Why did you bring it outside. Is there a reason?" he calmly asked, eyes on his partner.

"Tch." the jester rasped by clicking his tongue. It's a hint of his irritation. But this doesn't stopped him from answering the question. Knowing that the person who asked was the one he's most comfortably to talk with. With little hesitation, Mort still managed to spell out his intentions.

"I was checking it..." he mumbled. "And..." he continued and paused.

Mort drifted his eyes back to the red suitcase on the grass. His breathing slowed. Yves was patiently waiting for the clown's answer. He never break his sight to the jester's direction. The clown closed his eyes and sighed. There's no need to hesitate with his friend around.

"And I thought I could attend the fest with this." he finally spoke out.

"You want to perform in the stage?" Yves followed.

"I thought so. I love performing," the clown proudly said, a warm smile grew on his face. "But at this point, no one in the plaza would even look at me properly without grappling on the past." he reasoned out. His smile faded away.

Mort crossed his hands and rested his elbows on his thighs. He looked down and focused his eyes below. His shadow was looming over the green grass.

"My reputation was tainted for a long time," he paused. "I don't think somebody inside would even dare to watch me." the bothered jester added.

"So yeah, I think that's it... I can't bring this luggage with me there..." the clown shrugged. "Nor walk myself inside the event."

Yves remained quiet and stared at the jester. Mort noticed it and decided to break the silence before the atmosphere become awkward for him. He switched the topic and asked back the merchant, making the subject focus on him.

"So how about you, Yves?" he drifted his red eyes beside. "Don't you said earlier you wanted to attend the fest?" he asked.

"Oh. That." he flinched. Yves blinked and turned his head in front. "Yes, I did say that earlier." he confirmed.

"So.... you're going back there, right?" Mort interrogated the teal haired man. His face was a little down and eyes were gleaming sad.

Yves stared at the clown. He closed his eyes and sighed. He murkily replied,

"Yeah. Maybe."

"Maybe, huh?" the clown scoffed.

He snickered to hide his real emotion. Mort knew Yves only said those unsure words so he wouldn't get sad on the possibility that he would stay there with him. But the uncertainty of his answer only made the clown lonelier and paranoid. Mort, after the darkest days of his life, spent his time all alone. Away from people and everything, he got used to it. But it was no doubt that he needed company on some days where he felt like the world was against him. It wasn't easy, it wasn't nice. Living in isolation pierces every parts of his mind, and slowly, his depression ate him away. Mort was very grateful to have one person to stay behind his back, to spend his time with him despite the ugly reputation bounded on his shoulders. The horned man is glad to have Yves on his side. But the clown knew that his life doesn't only revolves around him. And the four-eyed man has things he wanted to do for himself. The jester would not cling around to burden the man.

Mort reassured himself. He doesn't want to plunge into the pits of his anxiety at the moment. Not in front of the merchant. He breathed in and sighed.

"Tell me, when are you going back to the plaza?" he asked without looking at the man's face.

"Maybe in a few minutes." the merchant replied without any hesitation.

"Uh-huh. Okay..." Mort's gloomy reply.

"Are you sad because I'm leaving?" Yves genuinely asked with concern but with a hint of teasing. A little smirk formed on his face.

"What?!" the clown flustered. "W-what are you talking about? I'm not!" he stuttered in denial.

The man with eyeglasses chuckled with his long and steady fingers covering a part of his mouth. "You look so flustered." he teased.

"I-I am not!" the clown denied once more.

"Okay, If you say so." the merchant shrugged.

He stood up from his seat that caught the jester's attention. He turned his back and started to walk away. Mort was confused and immediately called out for his friend.

"W-wait! Where are you going?"

The merchant turned his head around, looking over his shoulder. His cold eyes drifted at the puzzling face of the jester. He smiled.

"Heading to the plaza." the merchant confidently replied.

"Already?" the jester questioned, his face was a mix of worry and confusion.

"Yeah. You don't want to?" the man ridiculed.

"I.... you didn't even- I mean. Well, goodbye, I guess?" Mort stuttered with a wrinkled face.

"Ahahaha." the merchant giggled.

Mort raised an eyebrow. His mind was completely mixed up. The tall man turned back and marched on the clown's direction. Mort saw the man approaching. Yves scrunched down. His face met the clown's on the same level. Those icy eyes were cold as ever, but his smile was ironically warm. Mort inched backward a little. His face was flushing red.

"I thought you won't stop me as I stood up."

Mort clenched his teeth, forcing a smile. He giggled awkwardly. Then, he looked away in a swift, breaking the eye contact with the merchant.

"I mean it was so sudden. Of course, I'd ask you." he muttered.

Yves crouched down in front of the jester. He pulled out a small marble from his trench coat. It was colorful and magical looking orb. Mort look at with a curious face. The merchant spread out his hand with the marble resting on the center of his palm. In an instant, a serene magical wisps came out from his hand. The frothing cerulean magic swirled around the marble. Mort's face was filled with amazement. His eyes were widened and mouth was open. The bluish glow reflected on the clown's face. Yves glanced at the clown who's attention was locked on the marble. The merchant smiled warmly. The magic covered the marble and started to reform it. The wisps sparked and turned into smokes after it successful morphed the marble into a crystal ball resembling a snow globe.

The enchanting transformation was done, yet the clown was still astonished by what happened.

"You..." the clown mumbled, his eyes were still locked on the snow globe.

Yves blinked and looked at the jester's face in awe.

"You can do magic?!" he screamed, eyes drifted on the merchant's face.

Yves giggled and tilted his head. "Yeah. Like what you witnessed."

"And you didn't even tell me that you are a mage?!" the clown retorted.

"I don't think it's an important thing to tell." Yves shrugged.

"It is important!" he countered. "Mages aren't that common inside this town. Only five-percent of the population are." the jester explained.

Yves passively watched the jester talk. Mort expressed his thoughts while making actions with his hands. Juggling it at the same time.

"Mages were one of the things that inspired me to perform. That's why I imitate them in my shows back then. I barely knew mages, and one of them is the town's leader who I didn't even get to talk with. And now, I just found out you are one of them. Great!" the clown ranted.

"Are you mad or amazed?" Yves asked.

"I am not mad!" he disclaimed. "Of course, it's just a stupefying experience. I know you for years, and now, suddenly you can do magic." he explained.

"Well, you can do magic too." the merchant jokingly said.

"It's not the same magic as you do! I can only do mine with sneaky tricks... Nothing special at all!" he bleated and crossed his arms.

"But it is still an impressive skill, you know? You needed a great focus and be quick with your hands. Thus, making it believable for your audiences. It's amazing." the mage praised.

"You only say that!" Mort grumbled, eyes wide opened.

Yves clicked his tongue and sighed. He closed his eyes and grabbed Mort's right hand with his left. He carefully placed the crystal ball on top of his palm. He grabbed Mort's other hand and sticked it to the orb. He rolled the clown's fingers, locking it on the globe.

"I mean it." Yves responded firmly. His eyes were focused at the horned guy's red eyes.

Mort just stared at the mage and gulped. The mage let go of his hands. The jester blinked and looked down. The crystal globe was on his hands. He scanned its bits and looked at the mage.

"What is this?" he asked.

"A gift."

"Gift? But why? It's not my birthday."

The mage snorted and cackled. Mort's eyes darted around. He felt awkward. The horned man pulled out an unsteady grin and giggled forcefully. Yves put his fist against his mouth and coughed, clearing his throat. He looked above and stared at the clown's face.

"It doesn't need to be your birthday to receive a gift." he said. "It's a newly made project that I sold at my booth earlier. There were five stocks. I saved this one for you." he explained and smiled.

"Woah... This might be cost a silver..." he stated while scanning the magical globe. He moved his eyes below. "Do you really need to give this one for me?"

"Of course, a special gift for a special person." Yves commended.

"Wha- I-it's not special since there were four more people who have this!" the clown countered, flushing red.

"Out of all the town's population." the mage retorted smoothly.

Mort blinked several times. A tinge of red spread out on his face. He pressed the globe on his chest. Quickly, he turned his head around and giggled.

"Hehehe... Right..." he awkwardly mumbled.

"It's actually a compass," the mage inserted. "So it's not that special as you are." he continued.

"Stop flattering me." the jester spat and pouted.

"Ahaha. It's true."

Yves crawled nearer to the clown. He sat beside him and talked about the crystal. The merchant introduced it and told the instructions on how to use it. Mort nodded and got all what the mage said. He understood the entire thing.

"I see. So that's how it works." he said while holding the crystal.

"Yes." the mage agreed.

Yves stood up and the jester looked above. Mort already knew it was time for him to leave. He asked the mage once again.

"You're leaving now?"

"Yes. I think by this time, the dishes were already served at the buffet. I'm getting hungry. Ahaha." the mage replied.

"I see." said Mort who turned his head down.

Yves watched the clown who's mood went gloomy all of sudden. Silence occurred for a moment.

"Do you want to come with me?" the mage invited.

Mort didn't respond immediately. The two of them went quiet for a brief moment. The clown closed his eyes and replied,

"....No. Sorry, I just can't."

Yves didn't say a thing. The clown noticed it and thought the mage was disappointed. Although, Yves understood his decision. The breeze blew gently and touched each other's skin. It was cold.

"I'm sorry." Mort followed.

"Okay." the mage replied. "Just wait for me here, okay?" he added.

The clown's eyes widened. Quickly, he glanced above to see the mage's face. Mort's face was a puzzle.

"What?"

"I said to wait for me here." the man repeated.

"W-why? Won't it take a whole day and night for the fest to finish? I can't wait for that long ahaha." he stated nervously.

"Who said I'm staying there all night? Ahaha... I was just planning to grab some food and meet some friends. Then I'll go back my way here." the mage explained.

Mort's bewildered mind was cleared up by what his friend said. Sparkle sprouted on his dull eyes. He thought he would spend the rest of his time alone. The heavy feeling on his chest faded away and his mind was on ease.

"Oh! Is... that so? Then, uh... Great! ...really great." the clown's erratic response, albeit in relief.

"Besides, I don't want to spend my time there without you." said the mage in a mellow tone.

Mort felt his heart pounded. He was touched by what the mage said and wanted to cry. He felt his eyes were becoming cloudy and teary. The clown tried to hold it back.

"But then, won't you get tired to go back your way there from here? The plaza was quite far here." the jester's follow up question with a hint of concern.

"Heh." the mage sneered. "I can just teleport my way there and here." he confidently answered.

"Oh! Right... You are a mage." Mort responded awkwardly.

The jester looked at the mage tenderly,

"Take care." he spelled out.

"Thanks. Stay here, okay?"

"Yeah... I will."

The mage just smiled and then vanished into thin air. Mort jolted from his seat, he knew it would happen but he was not used to seeing real magic in front of him yet. Especially from his closest friend. He glided back his sight to the crystal ball he's holding. He stared to its magical beauty inside. Colorful magic swirls inside, it was hypnotising. Suddenly, an image formed on it, but it was made by the clown's playful imagination. It was Yves. Mort's face soften and smiled. He gently closed his eyes and sighed.