Aditi's Story, Part 2

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Dear Steemians,

Here you will find the continuation of Aditi's Story, also known as Story #1 from "Fancy a Game?", which my Special Algorithm determined to be the story most worthy of an ending. And my Special Algorithm is very special, so rest assured that it doesn't make mistakes (or maybe that story just got the most comments; you never can tell when Special Algorithms are involved). But if you're devastated that another story wasn't chosen, don't worry! There's a good chance that I'll go back and finish them once Aditi's Story ends. But in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this story of a dancing pirate. :)

Yours Truly,

The Owl Hours

Part 1 of this story can be found here.

They couldn’t hear it at first, but Aditi was patient. A turn here, a leap there, and slowly the music started to build: drums and flutes and the wistfulness of the sea, creeping onto the wind as she danced. As the music grew, the crowd became quieter and quieter until the only sound in the bazaar was the music that her feet called into existence.

They didn’t look around for a band — they never did. They assumed it was some performance trick, that she had hidden musicians on the rooftops or behind the stalls. If they had known that she was the source of the music, they would have run away shrieking as if she were a pretty little monster from the underworld. Perhaps she was. After all, none of us remember being born. The fact of the matter is that we could have come from anywhere, and our mother’s wombs are only one possibility. And not only did Aditi not remember being born, but she didn’t remember her mother either. So while the underworld seemed unlikely, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

She continued dancing, never losing her balance as she moved along the ledge of the fountain. The rest of her crew worked the crowd, holding out hats or pails or buckets. But Jaidev stayed stock still, watching her, his hand on his sword. If anything went wrong, he was her (self-appointed) body guard. She had pointed out the futility of this multiple times, arguing that if anyone tried to hurt her, it would be easier for her to take care of it than for him to have to fight through a crowd to get to her. His only response had been to stand closer to her when she performed.

She knew that he was thinking about the times that she had fainted while dancing, not about the possibility of being attacked. It was unlikely that anyone on this island knew who she was, so she was in little danger. But it had taken her a while to learn the limits of her gift, and she had pushed herself a bit too far just a few too many times for his comfort. Never mind that she had yet to faint in front of a crowd. But Jaidev could be stubborn like that.

Aditi danced until her feet were sore and the crowd was starting to murmur. When the spell of silence was broken — that was when she knew to stop. People could only be enthralled for so long.

She twirled one last time, then sank into a curtsy, the hem of her skirt trailing in the fountain. A roar of approval went up as the music faded. When she smiled at the crowd, she was sure to keep her lips closed. There was no need for them to know she had a pointed tooth. If one word about a dancing girl with a fang got back to her father, her crew would be hunted down and dragged back to Uilhara without so much as a by-your-leave.

The clapping continued as she moved to Jaidev’s side. The rest of her crew was already in place, working to create small clearings in the crowd so that they could disappear into an alleyway. Before Aditi could blink, they were away from the fountain and hidden in a gap between two stalls. That was one of her first lessons as a performer: always leave them wanting more, and half-convinced that you were simply a dream.