It had been decades since she had been to the circus. The last time she went was with her grandparents, may their spirits rest in peace. It had been shortly after she had returned from her training, just barely into her teenage years; she had been surprised at the visit, as the circus was well known to also employ benders and her grandparents were staunchly against the employment of benders instead of nonbenders. 

But she had also been fascinated. Even if only for entertainment, the training and discipline required of a circus performer was not unlike that required of a warrior. She went back many times that summer, with and without her grandparents, watching in rapt attention.

Today, so many years later, she found her steps leading her down a once familiar path — though the scenery had changed much since her childhood.

She bought a ticket and made her way to the big top, just in time to see the Clowns and their airbending display. Charumati smiled a little. She wasn’t against benders per se; she was simply against the notion that benders were inherently better than nonbenders by virtue of chance. The circus though made use of everyone’s talent regardless of bending ability, and for that it had earned her respect and support.

Perhaps that’s what her grandparents had wanted her to learn.

She joined in the applause as the Clowns finished their act, but felt a stab of disappointment at not seeing the Ringmaster. 

It suddenly occurred to her that the Ringmaster of her childhood would also have aged, and she had no idea what he would look like. She looked around the big top, examining the older gentlemen to see if she could somehow discern what the man in her mind’s eye would look like now.

The assistant walked up to the stage, coughing along the way. Once he reched the center, he cleared his throat whic not only served to catch the attention of the crowd through his mic but also to actually try to get talking with the powder irritating his throat. He didn't know why but the powder had always made his throat dry. No one else seemed to be affected by bit though.

"What a wonderful show from our Specters!" He takes the mic away from his face to let a cough out for a moment. "They put their heart and soul into perfecting their act. Don't y'all think they showed some spirit back there?"

Some of the crowd chuckles, other shake their heads in disapproval but still held a smile on their faces. Dao had a affinity for puns and it served him well most of the time. His general personality made it impossible to hate him or hate his act for the puns even if you do hate puns. Jyrell once challenged him to a match on created puns. He lost the first time, very badly actually. However, after doing endless trivial research, he had gsiven rise to hundreds of high quality puns. Jyrell and Dao stood equal in ability when it came to puns. Jyrell, however, would probably not try to make them at the unhealthy level Dao did.

"Speaking of ghost, it seems that our Necromancer has arrived!" Dao points to the audience, directly at Jyrell. His corpse skin shined like a vampire's in the gaze of the spotlight turned to him. Jyrell held a smile before winking to those in front of him. He recieved heavy applause before he himself started to speak.

"I harbor great agony to leave all of you with this wraith, my dearies! I had a issue to attend to that was quite grave. Now that I'm back though, I feel like I'm back from the dead seeing all of you here to witness our show." The crowd listens attentively to him. They nod and smile understandingly as a response. "Now, please, enjoy the rest of the show and don't mind me. I am, as of now, just another face in the crowd. Take a look at our newest addition to the circus: The Dagon-Dragon Duo!"

Water falls from the ceiling like a raging waterfall while a gong resonates its music through the tent. It splashes upon the floor and continues to take up space at an alarmingly fast rate. It cleans the floor of the powder too. Waves crash upon the sides of the ring, droplets falling upon the front seats. Suddenly, the ring itself is set on fire. It's hotter than most flames of skilled Firebenders, which obviously means that unless there is a Master firebender among the ranks of the Little Dragons Circus, the flames are assisted by chemicals. The heat could be felt even from the backseats. Because of the intensity, the water evaporates, creating a cloud of mist. It obscures the view of the audience as the two benders make their way down to the floor.

Two red orbs glow ominously in the mist, reminiscent of eyee. They flicker as they get larger. It reminds the crowd of something everyone fears, something that threatens their existence: A predator on the prowl.

Suddenly, the orbs vanish. A few seconds later, a large blue being bursts out of the mist. Two benders stand in its mouth. It would take a while to register it, but it eventually becomes clear that the beast, which largely resembles a dragon, was made of water. One of the benders, Qui Lung, is a skilled waterbender. The other one, Huori Wan, was about to make sure that this dragon had it's finishing touches. He put his palms out in front of him in a firebending stance and let's out a mighty roar, making the dragon breath fire just atop the heads of the crowd.

The next act was met with thunderous applause, but Charumati only joined in half heartedly. She appreciated the skill and artistry behind the act, but she was far more interested in watching a nonbenders act. Carefully, she found herself a seat to settle in and (hopefully) see some nonbenders troupes. She even paid for a back of sugar-roasted almonds, which were quite delectable albeit thirst-inducing.

All the while, she kept searching for the Ringmaster that had been etched into her memory, trying to account for the changes the passing years would have made to his features. She sincerely wanted to thank him for being such a long-standing proponent of nonbender employment. 

It suddenly occurred to her that the young man with discoloured skin might know where she could find the Ringmaster. He seeemed to carry an air of authority amongst the performers, so she decided to seek him out after the show.

Sadly, as stated before, those were the last acts. After the Duo bowed and left, the crowds left satisfied. The Ringmaster, Jyrell, has disappeared once more when the audience turned to him after the show. However, those with a warrior's keen eye would've easily spotted Jyrell climbing up the supports of the tent. He walks upon the tighropes with balance that seem inhuman even to some performers. He twirls his cane gleefully as he watches the crowds leave with smiles on their faces. He rests upon the crow's nest built upon the main support before heading off on another tightrope leading to and through a small hole in the tent that was used for tightrope walkers to enter. Some of the older and more perceptive fans of the circus would remember this as something that the former Ringmaster did as well before heading off.

This lead outside to a small tower that the one of the guards use to keep an eye out for any troublemaker hoping to stir up the animals that also doubled as the starting area of the tightrope walkers act. He continues to watch the audience leave from the tightrope, crouching upon it and somehow maintaining effortless balance. His face stretches a smile as he takes in the view. With little to no hardship, he was easily able to pick out kids who had just visited the circus for the first time. He knew that type of smile as he had it too when he was younger.

When most of them have gone, he drops down from the rope before letting his cane hook onto it. It guides him and prevents him from falling to certain injury. With a swing, he jumps down onto the sides of the tower before jumping upon the stables. He reaches the ground from there and is met with Dao immediately after.

"How'd the meeting go?" He asked as he reached out a cigar. Jyrell, before he responds, touches the tip with his finger to light it. Dao nodded thankfully but didn't bother to offer Jyrell a cigar as he already knew that Jyrell didn't smoke and preferred to stay away from it. He found that quite funny, a firebender thar disliked smoke. "Did the smog bastard pay his debts?"

"Unfortunately, it is a negative. I'm afraid Mr. Fyin shall not return to our business." The sword-swallower, Si Fyin, was one of the lesser known acts of the circus. "He has been removed from this circus by my orders and perhaps removed from this world by his creditors."

"Well, I'll say lucky us! His act was completely reliant on props with no skill anyways with those folding swords. He's nothing but smoke and mirrors." Dao says after taking a puff of his cigar. "How much did he owe to the Triads anyways?"

"More than he could ever earn here with his 'talent'."