Continued, Carnival Fantástico
The Bell-Flower Brothers
There was once a traveling carnival that brought joy wherever it went.
Fluffy white clouds puffed from the whistling train’s smokestack, beckoning people from nearby towns to join in on the merriment.
The Valerio brothers, orphaned when they were just eight and six but now strapping young men at twenty and eighteen, were always first to depart the rusted caboose.
It was their job to ready the fields and map out where each tent should go. The work was grueling, and no one paid them any mind or offered them respect, but the carnival was all they knew.
One day, the carnival stopped in a foreign land. With their duties completed for the day, the brothers went exploring and spotted a field of deep magenta flowers. The shape of the petals reminded the brothers of the noisy bell the carnival used during its welcome parade.
“I’ve heard whispers of such flowers,” the younger brother said. “And of what rests within the waters.” He smacked his elder brother on the shoulder and hooted. “We’ve found the mirror to the gods.”
Yipping with excitement, the brothers ran through the blossoms until they came upon a steaming spring.
The elder brother, who’d become his younger brother’s guardian after their parents had perished in a trapeze accident, bent over the bubbling waters.
The shallow spring was glistening in shades of black, purple, blue, and yellow.
He caught his reflection in the waters. His brows rose in surprise.
Gone was his smooth skin and cheeks still rounded with youth.
In the reflection, his jawline was sharp enough to cut steel.
He had scruff on his chin, scars that spoke of great battles won, and wrinkles spreading from his eyes like whiskers.
He was a man, a man no one would be foolish enough to disobey.
One who could always take care of his younger brother.
A mysterious whisper came from within the hot spring. “This life could be yours for a simple exchange,” it said.
“Who are you?” he asked the spring.
“The question shouldn’t be who are you, but what are you,” the spring replied.
The elder brother raised a brow. After years in the carnival, he found those who spoke in riddles most insufferable, but he humored the talking spring. “What are you, then?”
“I am a god,” the quiet voice replied.
The brothers gaped at one another.
The god chuckled. “I am called Tezcán. Ruler of night and enchantment.”
“We really found a god!” the younger brother exclaimed. “Do you truly grant wishes? Or are all the tales the priests tell lies?”
“I do. To prove it, I can grant you one wish right now, if you like.”
The elder brother, ever astute and careful, had read enough scriptures to know that not all gods were good. He asked, “What would you want in exchange?”
“A simple trade to feed my hungry soul,” Tezcán said. “I will grant you whatever you desire: wealth, true love, peace amongst humanity, anything. All you must do in return is give me someone of equal value.”
“Someone?” the elder brother asked.
“Anyone. A perfect stranger will do,” the god replied. “If it is wealth you covet, feed me the soul of someone who has great riches, and theirs shall be yours.”
The elder brother shook his head. “We cannot do that. That’s…evil.”
But the younger brother rushed forward. He fell to his knees beside the hot spring.
He had heard the rumors about the mirror to the gods.
He knew the stones materialized and vanished at random.
This opportunity may never come to them again, and he didn’t want to ruin whatever chance he had to make a wish.
He gazed at his reflection within the spring. His face had become even handsomer than it already was. Beautiful women danced behind him and kissed his cheeks. People in expensive suits called out his name. He could feel their admiration. Could sense their envy.
His heart began to race. This. This was exactly what he wanted. He was tired of grinding away as a grunt carnival hand. As some nobody. He wanted to have women dangling from his arms, and rich men green with jealousy whenever he passed by, to be forever handsome and adored.
And he would have that no matter the cost.
“I will do it,” he said to Tezcán. “I will make the trade. But we are so far from anyone. How could we possibly offer an exchange out here?”
“The answer is simple. You may take me with you,” Tezcán said. “Reach into the waters and retrieve a stone. It is a looking glass. A portal between your realm and mine.”
The younger brother rubbed his hands greedily. He reached forward, but his brother snatched his wrist.
“That water will burn your flesh.”
“A small price to pay,” the god said.
The younger brother jerked his arm free. “This is our only chance. We must do this, or we’ll remain the nobodies we’ve always been. Don’t you want more? Don’t you want to be a somebody?”
The elder brother felt his cheeks burn. He had thought they were somebodies regardless of their lowly station in life. But he had to admit he was greedy to be the man he saw in the reflection. He longed to have power, to be respected and feared.
“We do this together,” he said.
At the same time, the brothers shoved their arms into the scalding waters. The eldest could have sworn he felt fingers wrap around his wrist, trying to pull him in.
The ground rumbled viciously. They fell back, panting, each clutching a black stone with an iridescent sheen.
“Go,” Tezcán commanded. “Summon me when you have found your trade.”
The horns blared from the carnival. The brothers needed to return before the ringmaster who owned the carnival reprimanded them.
Tezcán eventually gave the Valerio brothers what they asked for: One shone with charisma and one gained dominance.
However, the brothers only grew hungrier for fame and power.
The god grew hungrier too. They continued down this path, sacrificing and receiving, sacrificing and receiving, for many years…
Until one brother fell in love and realized he no longer wanted the life they led. But by then, it was too late, and sacrifices would forever have to be made.