William did not wake up again that day. Instead, Ringmaster rose a little after the sun and greeted the day with a grumble. He was not pleased to find himself alone in bed, nor was he pleased to find his shoes had gone missing when he tried to dress. He ended up "borrowing" Daniel's sandals after he'd slipped into a very loose grey shirt and a pair of jeans. With an air of purpose, he then burst out of the wagon and marched towards the big top tent, determined to prepare for tonight's show as early as possible.
Jem was in there practicing when Ringmaster entered the tent. The dragon hybrid's wings flapped absently as he swung throughout the trapeze equipment. Contrary to how he operated during the show, he had put the net up under himself. His close call with Nakusha a few months ago had taught him a hard lesson. He didn't go without that net anymore if he was in a quiet tent where he could get surprised by noise and lose his grip. As a matter of fact, that's nearly what happened this time as well.
"Where's the girl?"
Jem heard that hated voice and cringed mid-air, clenching his jaw and focusing on sticking his landing on the platform before he looked down at Ringmaster.
"Were I you, I'd chain her to the bed so that she couldn't fly away again. Wait... is that what you did?"
Jem was silent for a moment as he crouched down, seemingly preparing his reply. His green fingers rested curled over the edge of the platform as he parted his lips... and let out a cat-like hiss.
Ringmaster lifted his hands to wave away his own question with a defensive shrug. "Geez, sorry," he mumbled as he tucked his hands into his pockets and slunk further into the tent. Jem climbed down off of the trapeze equipment and crawled out of the tent on all fours, directing a low continuous growl at Ringmaster as he went. These days Jem acted like an abused animal more often than he behaved like a human. So much crap from Ringmaster over these two years had changed him. Ringmaster ignored Jem's cranky exit and focused on checking the ropes of the tent instead. He flinched when he heard a sudden voice, but tried to play it off with a growl.
"...You haven't changed a bit, have you?"
Ringmaster turned and faced the source of the voice. It was a man. Ringmaster recognized his red skin and devil-like tail at once. "Azazel," he murmured with an air of surprise. "I thought you'd be dead by now."
Azazel crossed his arms and leaned against a wooden support pillar for the trapeze setup. "I age slowly," he replied as he idly studied his sharp, claw-like nails. "...And I am even slower to forgive."
Ringmaster visibly deflated at Azazel's words. "Come now, is that really why you're here? Revenge? For what? For taking you in? For letting you live when you tried to steal from me?"
Azazel's anger flared. "FOR TEARING ME APART!" Ringmaster fell silent and so the red-skinned freak took the opportunity to vent. "You didn't even have to touch me, did you? You dissected me with your words and laughed at everything you found! You struck me down at every turn and then made me feel guilty for it! As though it were my fault!" Ringmaster stood from his crouching position, fully aware of the malice in Azazel's voice and all the more wary for it. "By the time I had found the sense to leave, I was changed. I wasn't human anymore. Like that boy you spoke to just now."
Ringmaster cut into the man's rant and jumped straight to the point. "Have you come to kill me?"
Azazel blinked as though emerging from a haze. His anger faded into the background, replaced by a determined calm. "No,' he muttered as he shook his head. "I've come to break you. I want you to know what it's like to be rendered asunder from the inside out. I want you to know what it feels like to be separated from yourself. And I know just the person to do it."
...
...Ringmaster did not return to his wagon that night. In the tent rested a single sandle in the place where he had disappeared.