Chapter Text
Elia’s POV
I used to remember every conversation I had with Jester...
Every argument...
Every debate...
There weren't many, since he would usually end the conversation in less than a minute or simply... ignore my existence.
I used to hate the look he gave me every time I spent time with Pierrot or Harlequin...
It was... strange…. Confusing…. Complicated.
Jester... he was a being that everyone in the troupe deeply admired and looked up to.
The Ticket Taker even compared him to... a god.
At first, I found that comparison rather… ridiculous, to say the least... I couldn't see him as one.
The god I have in mind is righteous, caring, powerful... loving to all... perfect.
And Jester was far from that image….
...But at the time, I didn't understand why he was so distrustful... so repulsed by the idea of me living among them.
I couldn't understand...
Why wasn't I welcomed?...
Why was I hated?...
What had I done wrong?...
...
Honestly, I didn't like Jester at all... or even the Ticket Taker at times.
I hated the way they looked at me.
I hated how they constantly reminded me to "know my place”...
I hated how I didn't feel... human in their presence.
To them, I was a pest... a filthy speck of dust clinging to the shining mirrors of the Blue Tent.
...
It was destroying my mental health.
Until one day...
Jester invited me to sit beside him.
And then he asked me a question...
How far can human cruelty go?
End of Elia’s POV
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Flashback
Inside the purple tent
The Jester was sitting in his comfortable chair, slowly turning the pages of the book he was reading.
Meanwhile, Elia stood there, waiting.
She had been standing there for fifteen minutes now, and each passing second made her lose her patience.
…Is this some kind of new method of torture?..., Elia thought, tapping her foot against the ground.
“…Could you be quiet?” Jester said calmly, without even looking up from his book as he turned another page.
Elia stopped.
And let out a crooked smile.
Then why did you even call me here?...
A low chuckle escaped him, making her slightly more unsettled than before.
“…Typical… and very predictable…” Jester muttered, finally closing the book.
Elia took a small step back.
“Stay.” His voice was quiet, but firm enough to leave no room for refusal.
Elia exhaled slowly.
“…May I know why you called me here, Mister Jester?...” she asked, looking away from his gaze.
“…Hm. How interesting… and rather ironic,” he said. “‘A conversation, by definition, requires at least two individuals facing each other’… if I recall correctly, those were your words.”
Elia fell silent.
Then, slowly… she looked him in the eyes.
“That’s better. Come here,” he said, gesturing for her to stand beside him.
She hesitated… then walked over until she was in front of him.
“Sit,” he ordered.
Elia glanced around.
The only chair available was his.
…Does he expect me to sit on the floor?...
She sighed, preparing herself to lower down.
“…What are you doing?” Jester asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Eh?...” Elia froze.
He stared at her for a moment longer… then tilted his head slightly, gesturing for her to sit beside him.
“…Oh.”
Elia awkwardly sat down next to him, her cheeks faintly red with embarrassment.
Someone… please… End my suffering.
Jester glanced at her briefly, then looked away as silence settled between them.
“…Tell me, Elia. What do you think about humanity?” he asked, breaking the quiet.
“…Why are you asking me this?” she replied immediately.
“Your answer does not answer my question,” he said simply.
Elia let out a quiet sigh.
“…I think humanity is complicated… Extremely complex. I don’t think I fully understand it either…” she admitted.
“How so?” he asked.
“Such things about morality… and what lies beneath each of our minds… its.. Quite fascinating as well as frightening how we can go from doing kind acts just as cruel…” she mentions.
Jester lets out a crooked smile.
“Kind, you say?.. Humans possess what they call a ‘bias’ or prejudice among themselves… they extend kindness only when it benefits them… appearance, wealth, status, race, sexuality, beliefs… even their so-called own kin are not spared from cruelty,” he said, smiling. However, beneath that calm expression, he looked… deeply repulsed.
Elia raised an eyebrow at his comment.
“…While that may be true, I don’t think it defines all of humanity, Jester… Humans are not only shaped by their flaws, but also by their capacity to question them... To change,” she said.
“We are capable of recognizing injustice and standing against it, even when it goes against what we were taught... Entire movements have existed because people refused to accept what was considered ‘normal’... for example… the abolition of slavery, the fight against racial discrimination, the protection of human rights, among others…”
She paused briefly, then continued.
“Even now, people continue to challenge those ideas…. We can be cruel… yes. But we are also capable of growth, resistance, and empathy that is not always selfish...”
Hearing everything that Elia said, Jester expression sours, his crooked smile never leaving his mask.
“Oh? Funny you mention that…” Jester said. “Those ‘movements’ you refer to are limited to only a few regions. What about other places, hm? Where freedom of speech or religion is still restricted and controlled by those with… radical beliefs? Where others remain… oppressed?”
He paused briefly, studying Elia’s uncomfortable expression.
“Besides… even the countries that do claim to have such freedoms are still… flawed.”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“Why do you think the word corruption is mentioned almost every day on the news?”
“…I–” Elia tried to speak, but Jester cut her off almost immediately.
“…Let us change the topic, shall we?” he said calmly. “Tell me… how far can human cruelty truly go, Elia?”
His eyes held a faint purple glow as he studied her.
“…I… I…” Elia stared back at him, but something in his gaze left her momentarily frozen.
“…Well? I don’t have all day,” he said coldly.
“…I don’t know…” she admitted, lowering her gaze.
Jester remained silent for a moment.
“…I appreciate your honesty. At least you are not wasting my time with a thesis on something you cannot properly define,” he said, rising from the chair and turning away.
“…Jester. I am very well aware of the cruelty humans are capable of–”
“Are you, now?” he interrupted, stopping in his tracks.
“…To hear of it is not the same as witnessing it. And to witness it is not the same as living it. Only through experiencing it does one truly understand,” he said, glancing back at her.
“…What… what have you and the rest experienced to form such a view of humanity?...” Elia asked.
“….”
As he reached the exit of the tent, he added without turning back:
“…It was a pleasant conversation. We should do this again sometime, shall we?”
End of Flashback
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Elia’s POV
After that conversation… I couldn’t understand what Jester meant…
Just how far can humanity truly go?…
Are we really that cruel?…
…Are we incapable of change in his eyes?…
…What happened in their lives that made them think that way… even now… in a century considered advanced?…
Well… at least that was what I thought before seeing Jester’s memories…
… I was disgusted.
Repulsed.
What was their reason to prey on them?…
What did they do wrong?…
They were just… trying to survive…
Isn’t that what most of us do these days?…
…Why do others enjoy feeding on the suffering of others?…
Was Jester… right all along?…
End of Elia’s POV
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Back in the present
Duke… Duke… what have they done to you?…
Elia’s hands trembled as she held the box.
…
There was too much happening at once… Angela’s men laughing in a mocking tone, the monsters behind her calling out to her, asking if she was alright… and Angela saying something to her.
However… Elia couldn’t hear or see any of it.
She was seeing red.
She wanted to end that miserable excuse for a human being who put even the devil to shame.
“…Hello? I’m talking to you, Salazar… when a lady is speaking, a gentleman should respond, yes?” Angela said with a snicker, caressing Duke’s fur now wrapped around her neck like a scarf.
Elia still didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on Duke’s body inside the box.
Seeing that her words weren’t getting through to her, Angela decided to change her approach.
“…It’s unfortunate the children didn’t have a purpose… at least this little stray managed to end up keeping my neck warm from the cold for a few months.”
That sentence did it.
Elia slowly looked up at Angela… and then began to walk toward her.
The monsters, realizing what she was about to do, tried to stop her immediately.
But their words didn’t reach her.
Nothing did.
Until she was standing face to face with her.
Angela smiled, hoping Elia would finally lose control and attack her, everything going exactly as planned.
As Elia raised her hand… she felt her past self whisper something she once told Leila:
“Revenge requires patience. Discipline. The ability to endure discomfort… Can you follow instructions without letting your anger take control of you?”
At those words, Elia subtly redirected her movement, disguising her raised hand as if she intended to touch the fur scarf instead.
She shifted her tone and expression instantly… composed, almost polite, catching Angela off guard.
“…It is quite a fine scarf,” Elia said calmly. “Capable of shielding one from the cold of the approaching winter… just as you said, Madam.”
Her gaze lifted to meet Angela’s eyes, unwavering.
“…Although, in my humble opinion, even something so expensive and well-preserved does very little to improve one’s overall appearance…”
Elia looked at Angela up and down.
“…If anything, you’ve only refined your ability to look cheap.”
“…?! What did you just–”
“You asked for my opinion, did you not?” Elia interrupted softly. “As a gentleman… I have no choice but to comply, Madam.”
“...Tsk! Let’s go! This was such a waste of time!” Angela snapped, turning toward the exit.
“This isn’t over, Elio…” she added before leaving the tent, her men following behind.
Silence fell over the tent.
“…E-Eli… are you–” Columbina began.
“…I apologize, but I just need some time alone…” Elia said quietly, before leaving the tent, carrying Duke’s remains with her.
The others exchanged uneasy glances.
They knew it well… Elia still stood strong…, still spoke… still moved… but beneath it all, something in her had already broken.
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In a void beyond sight…
“...YeS… At LaSt!!!!…” the Entity whispered, its voice echoing through nothingness as it observed the sphere.
“iT bEgInS… tHe PiEcEs… tHe bReAkInG pOiNt…”
There lay Elia, surrounded by empty bottles, Duke’s remains resting beside her unmoving form.
“…sO cLeArLy pAtHeTiC…”
The Entity’s gaze sharpened.
“…aNd sO pReDiCtAbLe…”
A pause.
“…nOw… iT bEcOmEs eAsIeR…”
“cHeCkMaTe.”
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