Short Story: Wysta's Tranquility

As she breathed in the chilly air of late winter and the aroma of her spiced drink, she found herself frowning. This tranquility felt unnatural.


The sun was beginning to rise over the wagons of the carnival camp, bringing to life the myriad colors of each home from the sleepy dull greys of the night, when Wysta stepped outside. This was her favorite time of the day, when most of the late-rising troupe were still abed and she could have her tea in relative peace. She stretched out the kinks in her back caused by working too late into the night and sat on the top stair of her home. As she breathed in the chilly air of late winter and the aroma of her spiced drink, she found herself frowning. This tranquility felt unnatural. The sunrise, the lack of emergencies, the breeze that had her holding her mug with both hands, those were all correct. The silence was all wrong. It took her a few minutes spent in quiet contemplation to figure out what was missing.

Solei. Ever since the twins had joined the troupe, almost every morning started with a bang in the literal sense as Sol began his day with hammering, sawing, and the occasional explosion. Next would be the inevitable shouting from Blythe as she tried to get his attention before he woke everyone else or hurt himself on a new project. Blythe's heart was in the right place, but her not-exactly-gentle voice was just as likely to jolt anyone within a half-mile radius from a sound sleep.

Wysta smiled to herself as she carefully sipped at her tea. Blythe taking on Sol as her responsibility had solved a problem before it could start. Wysta would not have been able to heal the reckless troupe and an even more reckless inventor. Sol was a full time job wrapped in one well-intentioned disaster and Wysta was forever thankful that Blythe was such a competent assistant. When Blythe returned, Wysta was going to have to find a new troupe for her to join. Her dedication was going to waste as a healer mainly to one, even if that one gave her more experience than any five normal performers. Blythe was long-due for a promotion and any troupe would be pleased to have her, even if she was a little... vocal.

Still, with Sol and Blythe off with the quiet twin and the artist boy they'd picked up, that left the camp peaceful, tranquil, serene... And absolutely boring. Wysta set her tea down on the step to finish cooling. Over the years as the troupe's lead healer, she'd grown so used to having to abandon it and drink it cold, that the hot temperature felt as unnatural as the silence. She would have to become accustomed to this, she supposed. If Blythe found a better gig with another troupe, Sol and all of his din would likely go with her.

(This is a mini-story I wrote for a writing challenge from the POV of one of the secondary characters in Unexpected Inspiration. This story would take place near the beginning of Colorweaver [book 1].)

CONVERSATION

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