“Dammit,” a deep blue leatherwing scowled and cursed as he examined the wreckage, “Looks like what’s left of Barnham’s caravan.”
“They were good folk,” the gigantic, antean pale horse beside him said solemnly, “Good, honest carnies, just like us, they deserved better than this. Baylie, I know we’re behind schedule, but it feels wrong to just leave them like this.”
“No need to ask, Atlas,” The leatherwing bowed his head. “We’ll make camp. Shouldn’t take more than a full day to dig the graves. I won’t leave fellow carnie-folk to be eaten by the scavengers.”
“Mr. Deadlift!” A clown faced human ran up to the giant, panting and out of breath. “We found a survivor!”
“Mercy of the Ash!” The giant flashed a thin smile. “Baphomet! Margarine! We have a survivor! Where?”
Atlas Deadlift galloped in the direction indicated to find a young, clown-face, insectile, unicorn colt curled and shivering in fear, surrounded by three clowns, two gem gnoll males, and a pony satyr with the shapely upper torso of a female gem gnoll, and the lower body of an equally shapely pony. “It’s okay, little guy,” the female spoke in soothing tones, “You’re safe now.”
“Give the poor colt some space!” A bearded cow pushed past the trio, throwing around her not-inconsiderable bulk. “Can’t you see he’s in shock!”
“Mirage kissed,” a matronly she-goat spoke in thoughtful and reverent tones, “Rare for one so young…”
“Wowsa,” the taller of the gem-gnoll clowns quipped, “should someone put Mirage on some kinda watch list? Cause he really is kinda young to be sucking face with a goddess…”
“Don’t you talk no bad about the Veiled Mother!” The colt sprang to his feet, fear suddenly forgotten.
“Whoa, soorrryyyy,” the gem gnoll laughed easily, “Just a joke, one clown to another. I’ve never been one to blaspheme the gods…”
“Since when?” The female satyr raised a critical eyebrow.
“Cease your prattling tongues!” The goat snapped. “What is your name, child?”
“S-slapstick ma’am,” the colt shuffled nervously, “Slapstick LeFaux.”
“LeFaux, yes, that explains it,” The Goat said thoughtfully, “Then your great-grandame would have been Madame Alias Le Faux. The name is not unknown among the circus folk. The Veiled Goddess has a long memory, and she has blessed the families of ponies who helped her children in the days of the war… adopted them, some would say…”
“Oh, enough of that, you old nanny goat!” The bearded cow pushed forward. “This colt needs our compassion, not some mouldy history lesson!”
“I’m sorry about my brothers,” the satyr smiled warmly, “I’m Dotty.”
“And I’m Wakko!” The shorter gem gnoll grinned enthusiastically.
“Yakko Wormer, at your service!” The taller flashed a friendly smile. “We’re the Wormer Brothers…”
“An the Wormer sister!” Dotty interjected. “You’re safe now, just go with Margarine, she’ll make everything better, I promise! No secrets or lies between clowns, right?”
The matronly Krava smiled and led the youth away, as the giant scowled, “You three, establish a parameter. We don’t know for sure if whoever did this has moved on yet or not. Get Ziggy to help, and tell Franklin to set up a sniper nest. If he gives you any lip, just laugh it off and let me know… I’ll bring him in line myself.”
Slapstick walked behind the krava mare in a dim, trancelike state. All around him his eyes took in the destruction and death of what had, just yesterday been the only family and home he had ever known. Master Barnham’s circus had never questioned his family’s “condition”, why would they? The LeFaux’s had been a part of the troupe for generations. Generations of LeFauxs working for generations of Barnhams for decades long lost to the ash… and that was all gone now. There was no more Barnham’s Circus of Wonders. The was no more Master Barnham, he was dead now. Goldy Barnham, the young mare, not much older than himself, who’s pretty eyes watched carefully over the three ring empire her father was grooming her to rule one day was dead now. His father and mother who had served the Barnham family as faithfully as they had served Mirage herself, as had their parents, and their parent’s parents, all the way back to the old times when the sky was blue… it was all gone. They were all gone. He wanted to bawl like a newborn foal, wanted it more than anything in the whole of the waste, but something inside kept his eyes hard and dry, even as his hooves threatened to give way beneath him. He was all that was left. All that was left of Barnham’s Circus of Wonders, and all that was left of the great LeFaux legacy. Just one, half grown clown was all that survived. And he knew he had to be strong, he had to be… because he was the only vessel left to carry their memories into the future, even as Soft Whisper carried their souls into the beyond.