The Sneak Peek

Guests and crew members shuffled out of the theater in a daze, weary visions still reeling from the intense, unexpected light show during Paulo Perfeito-Alto's play.

Dusk's orange glow disappeared beneath the ocean, stars twinkling overhead alongside the rising moon. Several restaurants on the Despit Decks remained open. Tab moved over to the Esperanza Quarter on Deck 5 so they could attend to the demand for late night refreshments. Some passengers opted to turn in for the night to prepare for another exciting day.

To those who preferred mingling and dancing until the sun rose, a small party in Deck 5's ballroom was authorized. Though not marked as an official event on the Paragon's itinerary, Audra being the main headline was enough for cruisers to flock towards the front of the ship.

Most entertainers congregated in the ballroom to unwind. Time spent on stressful prep work leading up to the maiden voyage paid off. The first day—and the second from the looks of things—went smoothly (garish spectacle notwithstanding).

After gently setting down the last speaker and plugging in a couple wires, Audra wiped his forehead. Satisfied, he fixed his sunglasses, looking at all the equipment now properly placed. He set everything up with the help of his manager Syndesmos… albeit it felt more like pulling teeth to get him to do anything.

Normally, such an arduous task would have been done by an A/V crew, but Syn fired them a week before the maiden voyage. He didn't want the budget to go towards paying them to be onboard. So, the responsibility of preparing the live set lay on him and Audra. Syn was sure that his own connections were done properly... he had told the musician while eyeing entrées and drinks being carted to and fro.

With the hard part done, Audra carefully took a vinyl record out of its sleeve: a supplementary piece of music to add ambience, give the crowd something to listen to while he searched for a specific track. He turned a knob on the turntable to increase the volume; it was softer than he liked. Noticing some of the servers ever so slightly giving into the beat, letting themselves bob their heads, brought a smile to his face.

“Syn? How's this? All good?” he called out.

His manager wasn't beside him onstage.

Audra briefly scanned the area, only to see Syn moseying about, hovering by the bar Tab currently manned.

Unintentionally he caught the gaze of two guests nearby. They waved excitedly, thinking Audra looked right at them. He shrugged off Syn's lax demeanor, and reciprocated with a smile.

More people entered the ballroom when, finally, after shuffling through his discography, he found the record he had been searching for. Audra was ready to be the perfect end cap to a successful day. Time for him to show people what kind of DJ he was.

“All right everyone,” he began, lightly tapping the microphone in hand. “Here comes a favorite of mine. Grab a partner, dance the night away. Get ready to feel some passion!”

Cruise goers cheered at the hype Audra drummed up as he tossed the record on his turntable. The lights dimmed. People moved away from the center of the dance floor, testing the music with their ears first.

The fan Audra smiled at earlier gasped upon hearing the steady rhythm of the bass. It enthusiastically held its partner's hand, leading him to the now empty center in time with the track, pulling him towards its body—then dipping him with flair, relishing in his rosy red visage and love-struck stammering.

Many passengers whooped and whistled over the bold move. Tab, who watched from the bar, clapped approvingly.

Audra beamed at this. “Now that's what I'm talking about!”

As the couple giggled, resuming their dance, more followed suit. Those already paired up made their way to the center. Others searched the crowd for potential partners, and they, too, joined. Soon, the floor was abuzz with a zeal for Audra's ballroom swing.

Before entering the ballroom, Eli had changed out of their Perfeito-Alto costume and into something that better fit who they were. Servants and guests couldn't keep their eyes off them in their tailor-made corset dress and pants—it must have been saved for the maiden voyage. Upon finding a mirror, they fixed the little muse of comedy hair clip, having noticed it being crooked in their reflection. They clicked their tongue. If only they caught that earlier.

“First the banquet last night, then the play getting sabotaged, and now this—gods above what is happening to me? Ugh,” Eli huffed as they went through the doors.

Their eyes settled on the dance floor, and they hummed, amused.

Perhaps they could dance the stress away.

Excited guests swarmed over Eli, spellbound by their dark green and teal getup, entreating them to dance. However, the only response they all received was an aloofness implying a sense of superiority over the masses. Eli glanced at each suitor and let out a dignified (yet, to someone not enamored with them, snobbish) sigh.

“Oh please everyone, do settle yourselves down.”

They scanned around the ballroom in search of a particular someone, a person they already decided would be their partner before they even stepped onto the dance floor. There was unfinished business, and Eli thought, what better way to deal with a topic they deem so dreadful as business than to make it a matter of pleasure?

Over at a corner their gaze stopped, for they found their target: a shadowy figure tucked away, reading.

People snickered and whispered when passing by. They remarked at the odd sight of someone going to a lively party only to read, noting the heavy eyesore of a bracelet. It signified him being restricted in more ways than one compared to the blessed and talented, who were free to act to their hearts' desire. Vardan paid them no mind, preferring they'd sneer or do whatever they pleased, so long as they left him alone and unimpeded in pouring over this small freedom that lay in his hands.

Eli slyly laughed. They moved away from the crowd that formed around them, attention now focused on where they were headed.

Partygoers murmured among themselves in surprised, hushed tones, watching the esteemed actor approach Director Meneur's prisoner. They gossiped animatedly on what reason, and most assuredly they all thought a reason there must be, Eli could possibly have in mind to grace a lowly magician with their presence.

Rien snapped his fingers. An attendant approached him, met with his usual dour visage.

“Is there something wrong?”

At a glance, the steak looked fine, having been cut in half. The outside had a beautiful sear, and a juicy, rosy pink center. There was a thin slice stuck on the fork's prongs.

Vardan lowered his head to ignore the inevitable complaint and his own stomach, clawing and writhing for sustenance. Damn the gods for dangling a juicy piece of meat in front of him.

“Is it not apparent?” Rien sneered. “This food is prepared horrendously and is offensive to the sensibilities.”

“I'm so sorry sir, the steak is prepared according to the chef's wishes, and she requested all steaks be cooked medium rare unless the customer states otherwise.”

“Frivolous cur, I do not care for the rarity of this steak. I do not like its color or shape. I want my steak shaped exactly like the continent of Despit with a color befitting of its royal eminence in Hangarin.”

The server did not understand his absurd request.

“I will not hear it!” He loudly proclaimed before the server could even recover from the stunning criticism. ”Toss this worthless meal away. Prepare a new one immediately with the specifications I provided!”

“...My apologies Mr. Director, I will ask the cooks to prepare you a new dish right away.”

The server picked up the plate and retreated back to the comfort of the kitchen, to which Rien snorted.

Eli watched from afar; they couldn't help but narrow their eyes.

What an utterly repugnant man. It's not charming to judge tastes, but it is even more unsightly to take a work of culinary art, painstakingly prepared by someone, and disrespect it utterly and ignorantly at that. Such a man as that has little to offer to the mind, body, or spirit.

They then turned their gaze over to Vardan.

After watching the server disappear through closed doors, Vardan shook his head, then returned to reading—

“What was that I saw? Did I ask you to give your opinion on how incompetent the staff on this cruise is?”

And you, Eli mused, I know not your scheme yet but I'll make sure no one gets the upper hand on I.

Rien put down his utensils, ready to strike. Metallic clattering made Vardan steel himself. “Insolent child—”

The Director saw Eli and their entourage of suitors approaching.

Intuiting that their business with Vardan would lead to humiliation, Rien lowered his hand, instead, folding them together, making sure his elbows did not touch the table's edge. Despit's Gladiolus remained ignorant to the impending trouble. Rien reckoned it would be prudent and proper, if nothing else, to let him know. “Look alive; you have a special someone interested in you, eh?”

He remained still, arms above his head. Slowly he opened one eye to see Eli fast drawing near with a smile harboring malicious intent. While lowering his arms, he vaguely remembered them from earlier, but what could they want with him?

“Vardan.” Eli politely stated, half hoping for an interesting reply.

Eli could only narrow their gaze. Again with the blank stare.

He couldn't even open the book he'd brought along, as Rien sharply tapped Vardan on the back, a tap that felt more like a grip from a beast. Vardan glared up at the Director, who took that as an invitation to reciprocate, sending a chill down his spine.

“What's this then.” Rien stated in his especially cold, matter-of-fact tone.

Vardan shrank a bit.

“You have a renowned celebrity greeting you and you have the temerity to give Ringmaster Mirabelle and I a bad name by not responding back.”

Callously Director Meneur grabbed a fistful of Vardan's hair, pulling him closer. He didn't care if everyone including Eli witnessed such cruel admonishment. A few onlookers did gasp, but many were silent, knowing the Director's stature would allow no criticism, even aboard Paulo's cruise ship.

He whispered harshly, hissing out venomous words that pierced Vardan's being with each syllable:

“She will not take kindly to this, do you know? I have been protecting you against her demonic nature, dear me, and this is how you repay that kindness? You disgraceful brat.”

Knuckles whitened; Vardan gritted his teeth.

“When I tell you to do something, you do it, like a child listening to a parent, yeah? Exactly like that. Address them. Now.”

Rien pushed Vardan's head away with a start, causing him to lose balance and nearly stumble out of his chair. The book fell to the floor, causing its spine to break from the binding. A few members of the crowd sneered and laughed at the sight of this magician being disciplined so openly. Eli was completely unfazed.

In fact, they seemed almost impatient, as though their time was being wasted and there was something urgent to be attended to. Vardan knew Rien was the very last person in all of Hangarin who would protect anyone, much less him, but he wouldn't dare protest, especially not now when he was cornered.

“How very droll,” Eli yawned exaggeratedly as this whole scene was unfolding, glad to have finally gotten an opportunity to speak. “I do regret disturbing you from your doubtless riveting story, but I have come before you to ask if you'd like to have a dance with me.”

Vardan picked up his book, gazing thoughtlessly at it. He looked at the damage and frowned. It wasn't particularly meaningful to him, but seeing a callous disregard for books always bothered him. Ren would be worrying up a storm right now if they saw this.

His eyes misted over for the briefest of moments, wondering about how he found himself here on the Paragon, forced to perform for a crowd of sadistic onlookers until he exhausted himself. All Vardan ever wanted to do was read at peace in his parents' library, enjoying the calm quiet whispers that tended to accompany the locale.

He looked over to an amused Rien. Vardan's heart sank; the Director showing any emotion other than a dull anger was a rare sight, and one that did not bode well in all the time he knew him.

“Well? You can't very well reject this wonderful offer now, yes? It would be quite a sight indeed to see you dance, eh? A shame Mirabelle isn't here to see this,” Rien said before letting out a chilling laugh, seeping in the purest malevolence.

Even some spectating guests and staff grew uncomfortable, and backed away.

“Oh worry not, Director Meneur. I, Eli, am not only an exemplar in the art of dance, but can also lead our dear magician along so that even they can keep up with me.”

Loud music pounded on Vardan's eardrums as snickers from onlookers intensified from Eli's offer.

The lack of autonomy was nothing new, especially in the presence of a celebrity, judging by the growing number of guests swarming to his corner. As much as he'd want to run away or hiss at everyone to fuck right off, it would only worsen the predicament he found himself in. The silver shackle on his wrists weighed him down; if only he could unleash a firework show for everyone in this damned ballroom.

Alas, with Rien as Vardan's puppeteer, he handed his strings over to Eli.

Slowly, Vardan moved his chair back... stood up… and placed the book down on his seat. Eli crossed their arms watching this robotic display from him. His gaze averted theirs, focusing instead on the ballroom's polished hardwood floors.

“Well well… No matter. Let us have this dance shall we, dear magician?” Eli laughed and held their hand out for Vardan to take.

They found it amusing that this new lackey Harun sent to eliminate them was so… pathetic. Little emotion reflected in his glazed over eyes. Gods above, he must be this desperate to find fools to do his dirty work, they thought to themself.

If that oafish socialite was to send someone to get rid of them, at the very least, he should have sent someone who would do the job with zeal. Truly this joke had gone on long enough. A little punishment was in order for his lackey, one that would no doubt put an end to Harun's treachery once and for all.

Partygoers that intruded upon Vardan's little corner cleared a path for him and Eli. Those already on the dance floor eagerly waltzed out of the way in time with the music, letting the two ill-fated dance partners head to the center.

On cue, everyone stopped what they were doing and gazed in rapt attention to the sulking figure juxtaposed with a triumphant Eli, every step radiating their presence.

A spotlight shone down on them; they smiled and held their head up high, basking in its glow like a flower blooming under the sun's gentle rays. Vardan shrunk, wishing for a rock to crawl under. He desperately wanted to tear apart the suit to give his body a reprieve from the suffocating heat. His throat tightened, as if someone poured a desert down it.

Eli took Vardan's hot, red left hand in theirs, letting it softly grace their cool palm, before closing their fingers around it with an iron grasp. Their heart fluttered at the sight of him wincing.

Vardan had longed to learn how to dance. He remembered the sunsets in which he'd watch colorful dresses swaying about, mixing and mingling.

In those days, Caveta was a land full of song and dance, magic freely expressed without judgement. Flyers decorated bulletin boards in the Orchid Hill Heritage Library, advertising a yearly festival Ren would take Vardan and Zinn. He spent many happy moments eagerly joining dancers, enjoying each step and sway. Much like his parent Zinn in xyr younger days, he had a habit of stealing the show—unintentional on his part, he would swear.

Every festival showcased new dance styles. But the one that spoke out to him, as he came to realize over the years, were the elegant, stately ebbs and flows of the ballroom dance. He mimicked the graceful twirls and motions from dancer to dancer. Spellbound, he asked over and over for lessons, constantly pleading to go back and watch people waltz.

At one point, Vardan proudly proclaimed to his pars that he would become a dancer when he was older, which spurred Zinn to order more books on dancing and its history.

In a cruel twist of fate, the gods vexed him with those dreams while he partook in this farce of a waltz. Deep down, he cursed them so.

Vardan's body dulled as Eli took the lead—pulling him forward with a sudden start, raising his hand up high, forcing him to be on the very tips of his toes. If they pulled a bit higher, he would topple over (Was Eli always this tall?). Instead, they leaned close, whispering into his ear:

“O my dear, dear saboteur... Director Rien mustn't be too happy with your cute little magic show, hm? Unfortunately your dance moves leave much to be desired too... Can you do anything right? One can hardly blame him for his disappointment, but I suppose it's of no concern to you, is it? It must be hard for you to pretend to care about any of this. Not while your real target is right here before you, joyfully consorting with high society.”

“What are you talking abo—”

Eli pushed Vardan, seeming to let him fall, then holding on to him again.

In sync with the song's beat, Eli performed this cruel mock dance repeatedly as dancers circled stately, mechanically around them. They were mercilessly graceful, never stopping, moving around Eli and Vardan.

“Playing coy are we, darling? You regard me a fool? Is this what Harun hires these days? Hah! I'd almost pity the man were he not so pathetic! Perhaps you are the perfect lackey for someone like him!”

Staring him down, they hissed, “I know not your scheme yet to ruin me, but you had better make it count, magician. I intend for tonight to be the last time Harun can ever sabotage me!”

A sharp jolt of pain surged up from their left foot—like it pierced straight through to the bone. Eli's body stiffened; their eyes shot wide open.

The average person would have yowled in pain. But, thanks to years of acting in tense situations where, above all else, one must never break character, Eli harnessed a high level of restraint and suppressed this urge. Even so, they swore internally over their facial expression betraying enough as it was. They quickly regained composure, body unclenching itself.

They met Vardan's eyes, who venomously glared back with a smirk. Eli glanced down at their left foot to see his heel dig in deeply on it.

Despite Audra's music booming through the speakers, Eli swore they heard the low growl of a cat, ready to attack.

Wait. There were no c—

Vardan pushed Eli off balance, causing them to nearly trip. The crowd still did not react, too focused on the dance they must maintain.

The gods graced him with a small window of opportunity—he had to take it. He knew doing this would inspire Eli to be more cruel and vindictive. Yet, he felt a deep catharsis.

Whether they realized it or not, Eli gave their “darling” an outlet for his frustrations. A new kind of joy, one he hadn't experienced before, that invigorated him like a swig of spirits. If it weren't for the shackle, for sure the rush of adrenaline would've allowed the sparse greenery in the ballroom to bloom with vivacious flowers. He'd thank them, but their pettiness yesterday led to severe whipping from the Director.

Eli was not taken by surprise by his act of rebellion, and turned their near fall into a graceful pirouette before going back to him. Spectators clapped, but they cared little for these strangers' praises. Not when the object of their desire was right in the palm of their hand.

From his table, Rien closely monitored the two and sighed heavily, mumbling something to himself. He searched his pockets for his taser, readying it in the event Vardan continued these insubordinate acts against Eli. In fact, he hoped that Vardan would continue.

“A moment of your time, Director,” a smooth tenor voice called out.

He turned to see a golden garbed man approach him.

Back on the dance floor, Eli ensnared Vardan back into their grasp before he could dare think of escaping. Their fingers intertwined. While looking deep into scarlet eyes, they let their right hand cup his cheek. He swatted it away; to this they dug their nails into his hand.

“Let go,” he hissed.

If the stomp wasn't enough, he surmised, perhaps a swift kick to the leg would do the trick—

When the strings from Audra's music swelled, Eli stepped away to dodge, and went back to Vardan.

In spite of his protests, they simply stared at him. They gave a smile that made Vardan shiver. It did not match the situation at all—he expected them to be livid. But instead, they gazed at him with an almost gentle doting expression.

“How pathetic,” Eli cooed.

They swung Vardan with brutal force.

To anyone observing this cruel scene, what transpired between the two at the moment could hardly be called dancing. A sympathetic eye would liken Eli's act to a child carelessly tossing their doll in frustration until it tore apart. However, the crowd around them remained ignorant, more concerned about being so close to such an esteemed actor that none noticed—or dared to notice—the merciless whirlwind Eli formed with Vardan. They simply looked elated, as though dancing with their fated love.

“Harun should have at least hired someone who could dance! No matter; once I let Director Rien, nay, everyone aboard know who you really are I doubt you'll be in any position to dance. In a way, I'll be granting you an act of mercy once you are exposed and detained, my darling magician. If you're lucky they'll put you in a dismal cell where Harun can reach you after your failure! Make no mistake though: This isn't for you. Consider that my last act of scorn against Harun, and you'll help me with it!”

The hand they used to hold Vardan tightened its grip; searing pain shot through his wrist. Eli laughed as they swung him over and over, yanking and pulling him wherever they pleased, no longer caring about maintaining the appearance of a dance.

Passengers who chose to relax at the bar instead of dancing heard Eli's laughter which could, at times, be heard through the music and made it impossible for anyone to ignore what was going on. Some patrons turned their heads, wondering what made them so jovial.

Sable snickered at the sight before sipping on her martini.

“Take a look at that,” she pointed over at Vardan and Eli to Nur, who had been quietly watching with a sense of unease that she could not place. “And here I was thinking that stone-faced magician would be fun for nothing!”

She cackled like a hyena watching Eli toss the poor magician around the floor, almost hitting a couple.

Nur stirred what little remained of her own cocktail. “Don't you think Eli is pushing him around a little too much? He doesn't look like he's enjoying it.”

“You care about the magician's feelings? HAH! You're way too sensitive.”

“What? No, it's not that—I don't care, it's—well, look, other people are in the way too. Someone's gonna get hurt.”

“Ahhh to hell with them, at least Eli is making him entertaining for once. I tried to talk to him, you know, because he seemed a little interesting, and he stared at me like I was an alien or something. What a freak!” Sable hooted.

After downing the rest of her drink, she waved for Tab to pour another round.

Nur couldn't handle Vardan's pitiful torture anymore. So, she stepped off the bar stool and excused herself. “I-I gotta go, I just remembered that Corvo needed me to get some supplies ready in case there's any accidents on board, gods forbid right?”

“Aw, okay then. I hope you don't miss out on too much and become stiff like the bodies you deal with every day. Just kidding, love ya!” Sable lazily downed her martini, motioning a different crew member to request another.

A white lie never felt so good, Nur thought as she wiped off a bit of sweat that formed from her brow. How could someone sit idly by and watch that poor person be tormented?

Before embarking on the cruise, she had a lot of respect for Eli's craft. It was hard not to when they rose to prominence, how many challenges they overcame. It was inspiring to see someone build themself up through sheer merit alone. But after seeing that miserable display, she wasn't sure she could ever really view them the same way.

Nur was aware of the difference between her and others on this ship, and accepted the fact that she could never be like the majority of the people aboard the Paragon. She didn't have the cruelty it took.

On this thought, she decided she would further distance herself from the people here by making her lie a truth. Nur headed downstairs, towards the morgue, to see what she could do to divert herself from the negativity permeating the halls.

Back at the party, from the turntable a similar sense of unease welled up inside Audra as he witnessed Eli toss Vardan around. He was far too intimately familiar with this feeling numerous times in the past. Audra recalled the times Syn had thrown him into a venue, not giving any guidance, and left him to figure things out. And sure, earlier he announced he wanted dancers to feel passion, but Eli clearly intended on tormenting Vardan for reasons Audra couldn't understand.

Regardless, he didn't approve. He disliked the idea of every note that he poured into accompanying such a dreary dance, to have someone associate a piece he composed with cruelty.

While the music played, he crouched down towards his collection. Fingers flitted through records. Luckily for him, he quickly found one containing a track that was a complete change of pace. It was a small act of defiance, but as head DJ, Audra could give this dance floor a hard reset, and maybe provide Vardan a much needed respite.

Just as the current song was reaching the bridge, Eli prepared to sweep Vardan off his feet in one final climax that would make the entire crowd gasp. All they needed to do was—

“Okay everyone! Are you ready to change gears? This one doesn't need any partners. Just bring yourself to the dance floor and get loose and wild!”

Eli took on a dour expression from the tonal whiplash.

They were about to send Vardan off with a flourish that would put everyone to shame, ending with a loud proclamation of his intent to cause harm to them and possibly others on the cruise. It would have been a picture perfect scene in Eli's eyes.

Now, however, their rhythm was thrown off from the sudden change in beat. The grand scene in their mind no longer made any sense. In fact, it was worse than that—the scene was ruined. How could Eli maintain their composure when the entire script was changed mid-play? No amount of training could prepare for this most heinous of acts in Eli's eyes.

People hopped about to the bass in the new track. Eli suddenly they felt awkward holding Vardan.

Audra saw the change in mood, noticed Eli stopped, and was elated.

…At least until Eli turned around to face him. They glared at Audra with an icy gaze that made him stagger back. He nervously turned up the music in the hopes that Eli would back down and just enjoy the rhythm.

The booming bass shook the dance floor as the crowd resonated with the music, their bodies moving and swaying with the fast rhythms of this new modern dance beat. It was one of Audra's most popular tracks that could be heard in clubs around Hangarin. Even among the high falutin socialites in the cruise, they could appreciate Audra's simple and upbeat melodies.

It seemed like everything would now be back to normal before Eli and Vardan's harrowing dance. Audra avoided their venomous gaze, instead focusing his attention on the dance floor.

Little by little, as each note played on, the sinking feeling they struck lifted off his shoulders, and his mood matched the upbeat atmosphere once again. His head bobbed to the song's quickening tempo, his favorite pa—BZZZZZZZT!