Chapter 2: The full moon_ part 1

The weather was so cold and damp that Bennett Archer had to lower the hood of his cloak down to the tip of his nose.

Still, he was shivering in the morning breeze like branches of a young willow tree. A recurring thought suggested that the shivers could be caused by his stress. But the booming sound of the city trumpets, signalling the opening of the gates, made him lose his train of thought.

The iron gates of the city opened quickly to the sound of the trumpets and a fast-moving flood of travellers made its way into the main streets of Crescent City. The crowd pushed Bennett and other actors of the travelling theater group of shadow act into the city along with their horses and wagons.

It didn't take long for them to find themselves right in front of the main square of the city: a high, thin tower could be spotted right away in the middle of the square. It was said that the structure had once been the most ideal place to study the stars. But now, it was just another abandoned building. However, the more Bennet kept looking at it, he would become more certain that there was nothing serious wrong with the tower to render it useless.

The theatre group made its way with a harmonious rhythm, through the crowd and headed for the area at the back of the city's largest marketplace : where travellers, by paying a few copper coins, could store their wagons in a vast yard for a few nights.

Bennett climbed off his horse's back and began to empty the wagons and unload their luggage. Other actors of the shadow act would not want to get close to him, it seemed. Bennett guessed it was because of that little trick he had shown them in his audition to join the group. He had obviously not thought that through and was now immensely regretting having done so.

They had been afraid of him ever since and that had caused him two sleepless nights in a row, worrying they might be planning his death or something like that. He was so tired that he couldn't see any face or object very clearly. He had reached a point where he was now willing to trade most, if not all, of his belongings for a warm cup of coffee and a safe bed.

As he climbed the ladder of the group's largest wagon to unload it, he thought to himself, " Bad luck it is. I haven't rested for so long that I don't think I can ever sleep again. Even if I did, these people would choke me in my..."

"Oy, little birdie!"

A raspy voice from behind him, startled him so intensely that he was a hair away from diving head-first down the ladder.

He had learnt to never look someone in the eye when he was anxious or scared. That way, he could pull himself back together more efficiently. Therefore, still with his back to the source of the voice, he said, " Don't you want the luggage unloaded? We have a show tomorrow to take care of, don't we?"

"No, pretty bird. Don't you feel the damp in the air? Or are you just simple? There will be a storm soon. Leave the luggage be. In fact, there are others better suited for the job than you. No need to ruffle your pretty feathers so soon. You might just survive a few days more with us."

As the raspy speaker, who was the chief leader and owner of the act, had walked a few steps away from Bennett, he slid all the way down the ladder like bad pastry dough. He tried to suppress the urge to gag in disgust and anxiety.The hatred he felt for Big Thomson was excruciating on an empty stomach.

The leader of the Shadow Act was a moody, rude and arrogant excuse for a man whose height resembled a cave ghoul at its best days. There was not a single spot on his huge, muscular body without a strange mark or a tattoo. He was responsible for the famously entertaining series of plays called the Shadow Act Tales that would be held every year in Crescent City, by the rise of the first Autumn full moon.

Bennett was a first-time actor and the black sheep of the group. The only reason he had joined them was an easy way to get past the city entrance guards. But so far, this stressful journey had offered him nothing but a nightly fear of being murdered in his sleep by these wretched criminals that got away with their dark deeds under the false pretence of being a very socially acceptable theatre crew.

Thomson however, had been right this whole time. Shortly after their awkward conversation, the morning damp turned into heavy showers of rain that left puddles all over the stone-clad streets in a matter of minutes. Bennett had heard that snow was more common in this city and rainfall. But at least, he was safe now from the frostbite or a blizzard.

He looked straight over his head at the darkening clouds, let out a deep sigh and thought, " If I could only... if it were only possible... . But, no. Not now. I should wait this one out. Nobody can see me like that. I can't afford that kind of a disaster.

"Say, Birdie!"

Bennett turned toward the voice and saw Thomas and some other actors staring at him intently.

As he caught Bennett's eyes, Thompson said, " You're on your own tonight. We've got no use for you here. With this climate, were lucky to get anything done for a long time at least. We will probably be here a few more nights than we care to. So go on. Go find yourself a place to stay."

Thomson and his companions soon faded in the crowd as Bennett watched, quietly asking himself, " Now what did I need most again?"

His exhausted mind seemed to be able to grasp the answer from the loud noises of the rainy streets at that very instant: he heard a salesman shouting from afar, " Hot beverages! Meals hot and ready for any appetite! Come right in before you freeze out in the rain! Come in! Come in!