Drefan Foley's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

The tavern sat at the edge of the markets, its door painted with spirals that moved when no one watched. Drefan pushed it open and stepped inside. Smoke hung in the air, smelling like cinnamon and copper. Around a long wooden table sat performers unlike any Drefan had seen—a woman with hands that flickered between solid and shadow, a man whose skin changed patterns like a kaleidoscope, a girl who balanced three spinning plates on her horns without touching them. They laughed and argued over drinks, sharing tricks and stories between bites of food. Drefan walked to the table and set down a sketch of the carnival. The performers leaned in, eyes bright with interest. One by one, they shared what they knew—how to make lights dance without wires, how to build stages that folded, how to train audiences to see the impossible. By the time Drefan left, their notebook was full of techniques and three performers had agreed to visit the field. The carnival had its first real crew, and the dream felt closer than ever. The next morning, Drefan stood in the field surrounded by their new crew. The woman with shadow hands suggested they needed to spread the word. People in The Rabbit Hole didn't trust ordinary things, so the carnival needed ordinary advertising turned strange. Drefan pulled out sheets of bright paper from their coat and handed them around. Together they drew roller coasters that twisted through impossible angles, tents that looked bigger on the inside, and words that promised "The Hopping Mad Circus—Where Physics Takes a Holiday." The performers added their own touches—handprints that shifted colors, sketches that seemed to move when you looked away. When the stack was finished, Drefan gathered the flyers and walked to the edge of the markets. They tossed them into the air and watched the wind catch them, scattering them across the grass where curious eyes would find them. Back at the field, the performers began setting up their practice spaces. The girl with horns marked out a circle for juggling. The man with shifting skin started building a small platform. The woman tested how shadows moved under the morning light. Drefan watched them work and felt something solid settle in their chest. The carnival wasn't just drawings anymore. It had people who believed in it, flyers announcing it to the world, and a field that was starting to look like a place where impossible things happened. They pulled out their pocket watch and checked the backward-spinning hands. Time moved differently here, but progress was real. The Hopping Mad Circus was becoming something crowds could actually visit. That afternoon, Drefan walked through the town square to see if anyone had noticed the flyers. A crowd had gathered around the fountain, pointing and talking. In the center of the square stood a tall clock, its face covered in bright colors and gears that spun in opposite directions. The hands moved in circles that made no sense, sometimes forward, sometimes sideways, sometimes through each other. People stared at it like it was alive. Drefan moved closer and saw their flyers scattered at its base. The clock proved what the flyers promised—that impossible things were real in The Rabbit Hole. A young couple picked up a flyer and read it out loud. Others joined them, asking questions about where to find the carnival. Drefan smiled and handed out directions to the field. The clock had done more than any speech could. It showed people that physics could bend, and that made them want to see what else was possible. The carnival had its audience now, and opening day was almost here.