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There is something magic in the things we can't understand, that's the reason why we go in crowds to the circus, to be amazed by things that look imposible.
Nikolai Gogol was borned in a magic enviroment, a circus for ability users to share their powers with the world.
From performance to performance he got fed by the glow in people's eyes, by the way they looked at him as if he was the most amazing thing when birds flew from his cape.
He was happy. Until the fire came.
Humans are also afraid of things they can't understand... and scared crowds are dangerous. Dangerous and heartless.
He was left, in the middle of the ashes of the place that he once called home, to wonder /why/, why would someone do this? Why if they never hurt anyone? Why... why... why why why why!?
The magician had ran out of tricks, out of light, out of everything. The void of his own ability starting to feed on his soul, to tear him apart because... what's left when you've lost it all?........
.......He. He was left.
"Do you know the legend of the phoenix? Everytime it dies, it reborns from the ashes"
Wide eyes looked up from the gray ground to meet bright purple eyes, a soft smile and ashes flying from his hand
"Who... who are you?"
The light was comming from behind the man, obscuring his form, making him look like a shadow... making him look like a God.
Nikolai had never been so overwhelmed by a sight
"My name is Fyodor Dostoyevsky. I'm here to offer you freedom"
It called him like a bug to a light, he followed without a doubt, without a question. This man brought hope back to his life, gave him a purpose, a cause to fight for.
Have he gone insane? The warm blood all over his skin and his own laught say yes, the skeletons on his closet say yes. He now gives different performances, performances for one, only for him.
Magician? No, not anymore. Fyodor is the King and Nikolai is his Joker
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"It's dangerous, you might die"
Those words does not scare him, he should have died back in Russia and he would gladly die for his master so Nikolai simply puts on his best smile
"If I die, wouldn't you bring me back when the war is won, Dos-kun~?"
Fyodor's smile is mischevious, the kind of smile that no one in their right mind would trust.
But Nikolai is not in his right mind and so he trusts him.
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Fyodor doesn't react when the news reach him in his captors mouths. He stays still, unmoving, eyes closed... one could say he's dead if not for his soft breathing.
He is tired of being tied, going insane for the seclution, mourning his joker's death.
"Don't worry, Kolya, once the war is won, every rightful soul that fought for us will come back and you, my dear, will come back to me..."
His word was a sentence more than a promise.
He would never fail and so he would never lose Gogol
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He opened his eyes to a red sky, rising from below the ashes of the war
"Do you know the legend of the phoenix? Everytime it dies, it reborns from the ashes"
Fyodor had a red glow all around him. He looked majestic, as always.
"Someome told me about it"
Muttered, testing his voice.
All around them there's death and destruction, the remains of the world that was, future foundations of the new world bound to raise under the King's command.
"I knew that you'd bring me back"
His voice lacks the usual cheerfulness, instead there's amazement and fondness. It was over... they were free because they fought for it, a new world to shape to their will.
"I know you knew, and that's why I brought you back"
Because what would be a King without his most loyal Joker?