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 Posted: Sun Sep 06, 2009 10:39 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 06, 2009 11:55 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 06, 2009 11:56 pm
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Posted: Mon Sep 07, 2009 12:02 am
Biography I remember my mother. She was a very proud looking female. Tall and curved in a way that seemed almost unbelievable for a elf. I have her eyes, I remember her often telling me that she was grateful to the Goddess that I had inherited that trait from her. I suppose it made it easier for her to look upon me and not wonder who's child I was. I was her's obviously. But my father? He could have been any male drow in any city we had passed. He could have even been one of the males in the circus even. I never knew, and mother never seemed to care. 'Elkaun' she would say to me. 'Elkaun. The Circus is your family. What the rest of the world thinks or feels is of no consequence. Love your family, respect your Ringleader, and do your best to make us proud and we will all be your mothers and fathers.'
I liked that sentiment. I carried it with me as I grew and it served me well. I watched the other performers each day, and I tried to help in any way I could. From mucking and cleaning the lizards to scrambling around delivering messages pre-show. I loved it. I often saw the lot's of other drow children and while I envied them their stable homes and their daily studies, I never would have exchanged my life for theirs. How often I saw unhappy expressions! Downcast and wounded eyes. What price were they paying for for these treasures of theirs? It certainly did not seem like a price I wanted to pay.
I wanted to contribute, so mother helped me decide on a talent to make my own. There were plenty of entertainers in the circus, but there was always room for one more. I started juggling, as it seemed the easiest thing for a child to do by themselves in a corner. I will admit, I was not that good. I grew discouraged when I did not appear to have a natural talent and wanted to give up. Mother would not let me though. She shared some of her insight and wisdom with me at this time when I was trying to throw my little practice sacks of sand in the garbage. She told me nothing worthy of praise comes easily. Those who work hard and become skillful are far more impressive then the one who easily accomplish's any goal. I still threw the sacks away. Mother though pulled them out, and she laid them on her vanity next to her make up. After a few days of looking upon them while watching mother apply her show make up, I began to grow ashamed at my actions. I am still not certain how she did it. But I took up the sacks once more and began my practice anew. Mother would often watch me practice, and when I dropped one of the sacks she would laugh as if I had done it on purpose. I found this to be strangely encouraging, and would often make silly faces after my slip up, which only caused her to laugh more.
Mother laughed so often. She had this perpetual smile of joy on her face. I loved her laugh. I could fall asleep listening to it, or to the gentle hum of her voice as she sang me to sleep. Her spicy perfume clinging to her performing outfit as I nestled in bed against her. Despite being a promiscuous female, mother never let a male lay in her bed besides me. 'Elkaun' She told me once. "Elkaun. The Bed is a place for either terrible or wonderful things. I'm a woman who prefers her bed to be a cradle of joy, so I only let the wonderful things lay within it.' I was mothers wonderful thing, and this filled me with a pride that pricked my eyes with tears.
When mother died I couldn't lay in her bed anymore. It was a place for wonderful things after all, and I would not cry my bitter grieving tears upon her perfumed pillow. I can still remember that day with the clarity of water. Mother was the Exotic Dancer Serpentina. She did a variety of very exciting dances with poisonous snakes. I had played with those snakes and I knew their temperament to be calm. All I could think, when that first snake bit her, that I had somehow seen wrong. My eyes had to be seeing things. But there was no mistake when the second snake bit..then the third. These serpents that I had known my whole short life were somehow strangers, and they were killing my mother. One of the other circus hands swept me up and carried me away with a hand pressed to one of my ears. I struggled of course, and attempted to fight my way back. I remember screaming something about her needing me. But he would not let go...
I was told little later. It was as if they were afraid to speak to me. I did not understand at that time that they were as clueless as I was. No one understood what made the snakes bite. No one could figure out why mothers anti-toxin was missing from it's secret place in her costume. I believe I was suspected for a time of killing her. Maybe they still do. But I tell you I did not. I still cry for her. I still cling to her pillow and inhale the long faded scent of her perfume. I will never find a female that will love me as unconditionally as my mother had. Though I am a grown man now i still feel a boyish longing for her. I have gained skill in my juggling, and whenever I take up my performers tools and don my costume, I feel almost as if I can hear her voice murmuring with approval in my ear. I perform now to hear the laughter of the crowds, and in their laughter there is the ghost of my mothers laugh.
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