Author's Note: The underlined words are defined at the end of each chapter.

1st Shot: High-Flyer

It is assumed that humans instinctively avoid death, and form all kinds of theories about it with the secret wish of concealing its deeper meaning. It can probably be said, then, that the words "memento mori" have always managed to shake up mankind's concealed handiwork, while continuing to provide an opportunity to look its inevitable fate in the face. In Latin, the words mean, "Do not forget death." This expression gave a voice to humanity's sense of powerlessness long before the affluence of plague and war that followed the Middle Ages. It not only addressed the age-old question, "Can death and humanity be reconciled?" but also, "Why must we go?"

For those who choose to defy death and all its rules, the answer is, "Why not?"

Her eyes were shut, long graceful legs hooked one over another as she sat on a high trapeze in dim light. A pale blue emitted from a spotlight suddenly, and she flipped herself backwards, hanging by one knee with her arms behind her back, her other leg extended to display nonchalance. Her hair had been left down, long, straight strands of hair that fell to her waist again as she sat up and flipped herself forward, hanging on with one hand.

And then she began to swing, flipping the slender body back up, bracing one foot against the pole and hanging on next to it, turning all the way around it and coming to hold on again with just one hand.

An Eternal Angel Turn. She brought her speed up, bringing herself up so the bar was against her stomach and pushing herself up and into a spiraling flip, landing gracefully on both feet on the trampoline-like base of the ring.

Retriever's Spiral. The eyes opened now, a lovely green, and she smiled.

"Brava, Mademoiselle! Elize, you have brought life back to Stardust…" A man with short-cropped blonde hair approached her, bracing her hands as she gave him a sweet smile. The eyes that looked on her were warm and kind, and familiar.

"It comes easily…I just do what I feel," Elize said. She looked down slightly, slipping her hands form his. "It's no trouble, but…"

"…but?"

"…but…I'll be leaving before you do the show in Sungria." She flinched, waiting for the begging.

"…is it really what you want, my filleule?" She looked up at him.

"Oh, parrain…I wish I could stay, but…" he cupped her chin in his hands and brought his grey eyes upon hers.

"You do…what is right for Elize. Stardust can live without you, as it did before. We may not draw the same crowds, my filleule, but we will survive." He gave her another gentle smile before being called away. Elize sighed, jumping off the bouncy platform and popping her wrists.

Kir grinned to himself, smoothing out the jet-black feathers on his head and lighting on her shoulder—much to her surprise—and giving her a nice look. "Somethin' tells me that this stage just won't light up…not without a star as bright as you." An attempt at a debonair grin, and he waited for a reply.

Elize just blinked those wide green eyes at him, wondering what his problem could possibly be. "I—uh, I think you may mistake me for someone else…"

"How could I, my dear? A piece of work like you, hard to forget. I don't believe we've formally, met, my name's Kir…and you, my lovely, a—yeow!" Kir half-choked, getting pulled back by a conveniently timed hand.

Jing stood there, pulling the albatross away and giving her an apologetic smile. "You'll have to forgive my friend, he's…not very self-controlling, I guess you could say."

Elize just stared at him for a few seconds, trying to take everything in. The boy was possibly three inches taller than herself, black hair, dark eyes—very pretty, steely grey eyes, mind—and a long orange coat that seemed to be tattered at the end. Otherwise, he looked to be wearing all black, clothes a bit too big for him. Or maybe that was done on purpose…?

"So…I heard the old man call you Elize?"

She snapped to, blinking and giving a little red tint in her mortification. "Ah—yeah, that's what they call me…I do the high-flyer acts here. Trapeze, that sort of thing…who're you? I've already met your, um…"—she risked a giggle—"…friend."

She saw the boy smile before giving his name. "Jing. Nice t'meet you." He looked around at the stage setup. "This isn't any sort of circus ring I've ever seen…

Elize sat down on the edge, pulling her left knee to her chest—Kir drooled…she was, after all, well developed for a fifteen-year-old girl—and taking a little breath. "We try and make plays with some acrobatics…Alice Through the Looking Glass, The Three Musketeers, Cinderella, Saiyuki…"

"Saiyuki...?"

"Ah…it's a love story, this one. Kinda odd. I like it though, it ends nicely." She looked up at the stage setting. "Right now, we're doing an adaptation of Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew…"

"This one a love story, too?" Kir snickered at her. She just smiled.

"Oh, so you've heard?" That shut him up.

Jing grinned, rolling his eyes. "So…what part do you play?"

She stood up. "I'm playing Kate. You know enough, I guess, to know she's a defiant bitch…"

"You're the shrew?" Kir blinked at her.

"Yeah. Because I'm the only one brave enough to be on a trapeze bar with another person holding onto it at the same time."

Jing blinked at her this time. "How does that work?"

Elize winked and handed him two tickets. "Come see it, and find out. You'll like it. It's my farewell performance, so it'll be good!" She turned to go, and gave a little wave. "…nice meeting you!"

"…yeah, you too…later…" Jing was half-dazed, staring at the ticket. So, he thought, maybe a little extracurricular activity before Sungria will do us some good…

"Kir…we're goin' to a show."

filleule-goddaughter

parrain-godfather

Author's Notes: Yeah, yeah...I know. I'm a complete and utter idiot with nothing better to do with her time than write little stories. GET OVER IT I'M DOING IT ANYWAY! BWAHAyeah...I'm a dork. Review for me, okay? Next chapter's coming just as soon as I can bring myself to write it.