Kesi knew that going alone into Zein’s tent would cause some rumors to spread. Unless it were business, there were only two tents Kesi would go into by herself. She would spend time with her mother or… have some fun with her brother. Kesi was a good girl. Her interest didn’t stray far from her brother ever. Like a puppy she was dutifully loyal, her tail wagging at the single sign of attention.

But right now Kesi didn’t care about rumors, nor did she necessarily want to wait for a man who was clearly busy today. This new man had caught her attention… which was typically a dangerous thing. It didn’t matter which personality was at the forefront. Whether it be the child, or anger, or desire all of them shared a common interest: Fun. And Zein would be perfect for tonight.

So she tilted her head, a small smirk playing on the girl’s lips. “Your tent would do just fine.”

In all fairness, this was unusual for even Desire. She glanced around the other circus members and admired from a distance. But the girl never had a curiosity outside of Nem. Desire, like all the other personalities, were obsessed with her brother. They would die for him. They would do anything for him. But this was a new evolution in a typically static reflection. She was thinking outside of her own little world, for once toying with someone that she would typically appreciate from afar.

This could be fun.

Calm, cool, collected and nothing like the Child, Kesi followed Zein to his tent. There in the corner was the tray with coals and the long thing vase that held the opium. There was a part of Kesi that feared that vase. It was an illogical part, that Desire often tried to shove away. There was no reason to fear opium, nor the contained that it contained. And yet so often when she laid eyes upon it, she could hear a distant chattering. A little panicked voice that was spewing unintelligible nonsense.

But that voice would quiet soon too. Kesi would be lost in a sea of euphoria. Her emotions, the shards of broken sanity within her mind, would instead come out in the colors that she would see around her. And the ever whirling tempest within her would become still, as Kesi lived in the moment instead of instead battling her ego for control. In fact… she was about to lose control in the best way possible.

Kesi bent down and lit the coals for Zein. Perhaps her seniority in the circus, or her position as the sister and lover to the ringmaster, or even just the fact that she was a guest in his tent would suggest that it would be Zein that should light them. This was, however, a small habit that she retained from her childhood. She would often light the coals for her father should he request it after he had his tea. The child would sit on her knees in the corner, head bowed and completely silent until that order was called or she was dismissed. Five years after his death and Kesi was still the dutiful worker just… to other people entirely.

With it warmed, Kesi looked up at the man, eyes glinting mischievously. “After you.”

Why come to me?

It was an interesting question. Typically she wouldn’t. The child within her thought of one person and one person only- Amenemhat. But not only that, despite the girl being what some would consider a being of chaos, she was… one that had routine, whether Kesi wanted to admit to it or not. She found comfort in being near her brother or her snakes. She sought Delia for companionship or otherwise worked hard for the circus and the betterment of its ringmaster. She would care for her snakes daily and spend the rest of the day obsessing over her brother and what she can do to bring him joy. It was… predictable, to say the least. None of which would likely involve the man in front of her today.

Oh sure, he may distract Kesi. What was he? A beast tamer? An acrobat? Something about his art would catch Kesi’s eye and she’d want to know more. The child was always playing pretend, stuck playing the game that she once enjoyed with Nem more than a decade prior. But to sit here in new garb and makeup and smoke was something far outside the normal character of Kesi.

But since when was Kesi normal? She was an echo of not one human but multiple. She adapted to her environment and those that surrounded her, and became what she needed at that current moment. And while Desire may not know why she awoke this morning in control, she knew that she was needed. The child must have wanted fun, and that was exactly what she would give to the girl.

And this man would be the one to give it. Why go to him? “Because I wanted to.” It was simple. It didn’t need any explanation. Kesi did what she wanted to. No one else. Desire didn’t care for what Amenemhat wanted, at least no so much that it would get in the way of her own wishes. She didn’t care what her mother wanted, or the circus, or Zein or anyone but herself. For too little people ever fought for Kesi and her wishes and dreams. The child grew up in a world filled with shattered illusions and worked instead to fulfill everyone else’s. If not even that reflection can take care of Kesi, this broken shard would be the personality that fulfills their most desperate wants.

Her lips lowered to the device and she took a deep breath. Smoke filled her lungs in a familiar way, akin to the medicine she took as a child. When she exhaled, she felt the wave of euphoria begin to hit. Her shoulders relaxed, lowering farther from her ears than they had been in weeks. She passed the device to Zein.

“I’m always different,” Kesi returned to his previous statement. “If I was the same then it’d be predictable, boring. That wouldn’t do well for the circus, no?” Not an untrue answer, but in reality it was far more complex than even she knew. The entropic nature of the girl was ever-shifting, dynamic to fit the false reality that she lived in.

“Why do you care?” She asked leaning back on her hand. Her head tilted to one side as she examined the man once again. How long had he been with the circus? Why hadn’t Desire noticed him before? “Different is good. Different is… fun.”

Have you ever known a life outside the circus?

This took a sharp turn. Kesi started coughing out the smoke that she had inhaled, caught off guard by his question. She felt like she got suddenly punched in the gut. Why would he be interested in her life outside of the circus? Those weren’t memories worth remembering.

Right?

To be quite honest, Kesi didn’t really remember her life before the circus. She knew of her life before the circus. She knew she spent time with a Greek learning poisons. She knew she got bullied by different children and never had a true friend. She knew that she felt lost without her brother there to guide her.

But why remember things like that? What was the point in causing pain? Why would Kesi think about the bitter loneliness of her nights? Why would she think of the children that shoved her and picked on her? Why would she think of how she would hide from her papa when he returned home, and how her brother would shield her from the worst of his blows?

“You couldn’t call that a life.” Kesi finally answered.

It wasn’t. But life in the circus wasn’t a life either. She was mistreated, beaten, and tortured during her first years here. Unknown to Kesi, this was why her personalities were formed. While Kesi was still young and unable to defend herself physically, her brain did so mentally. It sectioned itself off, shattering itself into pieces and placing invisible walls so that the true horrors of the circus didn’t kill her. While Kesi thought she was normal and felt she was normal, the reality was far darker than that.

It wasn’t until sixteen did her life truly begin. Kesi killed her father and with it came the freedom she now had. And now able to be at her brother’s side both as sibling and lover, Kesi finally had the happiness that she longed for. No longer was she worried about saving herself. No longer was she trying to please a man who would never be pleased. Her path was clear, and it was wherever Amenemhat set it to be.

For the purposes of this conversation, that sentence alone wouldn’t suffice. He was trying to make a point. Different can be lonely. And… he wasn’t wrong. Kesi was different. That at least she knew. She wasn’t like the kids growing up. She struggled to connect to them in a way that many would find appropriate. She knew even now she struggled with that. Her brother was a God and Kesi was flawed. Her father punished her for that daily when he was alive. Kesi was different.


But Kesi would never have wished to be normal. If she was normal she wouldn’t be able to serve her brother. She wouldn’t excel as a snake charmer. She wouldn’t have pushed herself to learn poisons. She probably wouldn’t even be alive. If Kesi hadn’t learned to adapt, to grow, to change she would have been crushed under her father’s fist. Kesi had to be different, everyone in this circus had to be. Not one person belonged in a normal society. They were all outcasts, living on the outskirts. They would never be accepted. And if they weren’t different, if they weren’t outcasts, they’d be nothing. They’d had starved on the streets like the people desperate to be accepted in a world who only cared about proper upbringing. They’d be weak, instead of the strong people they’ve become.

“Would you have rather been like everyone else? Would you have preferred to be a normal boy in Judea?”

Her childhood was different. Kesi was never starving. She did not live on the streets. She had a family that kept her warm. But there was something within her that never allowed her to feel safe. In part, it existed because of her father. The man caused her nothing but misery, harming her with any chance that he had. But even after Kesi killed him, the feeling of safety was not familiar to her. Her mind remained fractured, and Kesi remained oblivious to the horrors that she had been subjected to. And while the reasons for her feelings were unknown to the girl, she could sympathize with the feelings the Zein might have felt. Their stories may be different, but the strength needed to handle their hardships were similar.

The subject of friends was a particular interest to the girl. This facet of Kesi knew how deep the desire for friendship ran within the girl. As a child, she had attempted to have friends. Before she came to the circus, she would run around Alexandria with the other children. Kesi, however, was different. She was ostracized for this, bullied by the people she desired to accept her. Then within the circus Kesi found a different dynamic. They were family. The circus would protect one another to the bitter end.

But could Kesi call it friendship? The desire was strong, and the attempts were made to have some sort of genuine relationship of that nature. But there was a barrier that prevented Kesi from forming those connections, one that she still struggled to understand. It could, perhaps, be the way that Kesi spoke. Was she offputting? Or was there a fear of these connections? Or perhaps she lacked a basic understanding.

It was all because Kesi was not normal. But in that abnormality, Kesi began to create her own definitions. No longer could she call herself friendless, because there were people who she decided were her friends whether they wanted that of her or not. People hurt Kesi. A lot. People were more dangerous than anything out there. They were more dangerous than her snakes, more dangerous than the Nile. But if Kesi protected herself and did her best to not let them hurt her, she could find her own happiness. She could decide to be happy.

“I agree that Egypt is unusual, but I don’t agree that you’re normal,” Kesi said quietly. Her might was floating too, meeting him in this philosophical space in time. “What is normal? Are normal people those who conform to societal expectations? Are normal people those who think the same way, act the same way, feel the same way?” Kesi tilted her head. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to be normal. It sounds like a horribly sad life, don’t you think? If I’m abnormal, I can be happier. If I’m abnormal, I can adapt and be dynamic. If I’m abnormal I’m… chaotic.”

“If I was normal, I’d be dead.” Her tone turned grave. “If you’re normal, you’re weak. I would have killed myself.” She would not have survived her father and the pressures he added on her. She would not have survived losing her memory and the mental anguish she went through in order to become herself again. She would not have survived the pressures that came with being part of the circus and finding yourself within it. Kesi would have lied with her snakes, allowing them to consume her.

Kesi didn’t know this man’s backstory. There was a chance that the child did, but she doubted it. This wasn’t the type of thing that concerned her. Desire didn’t necessarily care either… typically. Perhaps it was the drug that they shared, the words that were exchanged, but… she listened to him. She didn’t disregard his words, uncaring of whatever tragic backstory he might have.

Because there was something that was… interesting about Zein. They were of two different nationalities, two different stories, two different genders, ages, everything and yet… there was something familiar about him. The struggle to find the right word, the fight for survival, and how their abnormality saved them…

There was a connection.

Now a connection in the circus wasn’t particularly odd. Kesi could not think of a single person, Amenemhat included, who had a happy past with no problems. The circus was filled with survivors, from the slaves to the ringmaster. The circus was odd, certainly outsiders from society. Kesi recognized this. But she reveled in it too. She had no desire to join the community that cast her away. She didn’t want to be the child bullied by the older children for being weird, or so they called her. She was used to the stares, the names, the ostracizing, and Kesi was okay with it. Because… she had connections. She had the Tempest of Set.

But also there was an odd sort of connection with Zein. He was… comfortable. He was like Shakir had been before his disappearance. Zein was easy to talk to, and Kesi could appreciate that. There was a barrier between her and people. Kesi often shared her mind, but people failed to understand her, and Kesi failed to understand them. At this moment, however, Kesi understood Zein, and she hoped that he did the same.

“The circus family does,” Kesi said after a moment’s hesitation. She quickly took another puff and allowed her mind to float, just like the smoke, towards the sky. “But there is a word, at least in Coptic. Survivor. That’s what the people of the circus are. We’re all survivors. We’ve survived slavery; we’ve survived homelessness, we’ve survived… abuse.” She took another swift puff, coughing up some of the smoke before passing it onto him.

Abuse. The child hated to think of it, the others protected her from it, but deep down, they all knew who Somgi of Cairo was. He was an abuser. Perhaps that was why he never fit in with the circus. He didn’t survive anything. He perpetrated. He hurt Kesi, broke her, shattered her into a million pieces.

There was another aspect of the circus that was similar to everyone. “We’re survivors; the circus is our Savior. Without the Tempest, I would be lost… or dead. I’d be a shell of who I am. The circus gave me a home, and it gave me a family; it gave me somewhere I can be me and not… worry.”

More than that, it was Nem who saved Kesi. He protected her from her father. He nursed her back to health after the river stole her memories. Nem gave Kesi everything. He built her up, made her who she was today. And for that, Kesi would provide him anything. Her heart, soul, body, mind, and everything were his because that’s what he deserved. He was her God, and Kesi loved Nem above all else.

That, too, was evident across all facets of Kesi. Nem, at Kesi’s core, was everything. But it did not mean Kesi didn’t have interests outside of her brother. At this moment, Nem was not here. It was Zein who was here. The mysterious Judean was easy to talk to, and Kesi desired to know more about him. He was more than just a pretty face. He caught Kesi’s attention, and most importantly, he maintained it. The latter was a feat very few people could claim.

When Kesi was a child, she was called a freak. She thought it was because she the daughter of a circus ringmaster. As she grew older, she realized it was the disconnect she had with the world around her. Her ever-evolving mood, her penchant for chaos. But what made Zein so different? Speaking to Kesi, she could sense nothing… unusual about him. But there was one because otherwise, he would never have found himself here at the Tempest.

But was it any of her business?

Kesi didn’t often think against her desire. She wanted something, and she would get it. Well, at least this aspect did. But she did hesitate this time around, tilting her head to the side. “What do you know about Set, Zein?” She decided to ask instead. “Do you know anything about our patron God?” Kesi had realized it wasn’t his past that necessarily interested her. It wasn’t what made Zein unusual… no, it was something more profound than that. “And chaos?”

Was there a reason? Kesi didn’t often have reason to do what she did- or logic. She was the epitome of chaos, no matter which mood had decided to take the regions at that moment. Born and bred within a storm of entropy, Kesi embodied the values of the Tempest and of Set to her very core. It mattered not the God’s name, it was what he represented that truly called to Kesi.

Chaos.

“Call it curiosity,” if he wanted an answer, then Kesi would supply one. She moved her neck from side to side, listening to little cracks as all the tension she didn’t even know she had begun to dissipate. She was relaxed. Was it the environment? Was it the drugs? Was it Zein? Who knew? Kesi didn’t really care to explore it at the moment.

She moved a bit, put some space between them. Then she drew in the sand the symbol of the Tempest of Set. The swirling lines of a storm, the circus’s storm, Set’s storm. “Set’s main domain is Chaos. That is his gift to us. But there are different elements of chaos, such as storms, of which he also claims a name. That’s what we embody. Set’s storm, his Tempest.”

She remembered hearing about the name when she was a little kid. She had asked her brother why they had gotten their name. He had given her an explanation, but as Kesi continued to grow within the circus. In that time chaos, and the meaning of the circus itself took a life on its own. To everyone it was different, and that’s what made it special. Chaos shouldn’t be defined. It couldn’t be contained. It was ever-changing- just like Kesi.

“Have you ever been in the middle of a big storm? And people are running around everywhere trying to get supplies, or helping other people, or just… existing? People are scared, people are nervous but there’s this… tingling in the air. There’s excitement. Because everything is different. You don’t know what’s going to happen, things are out of your control and you have to adapt. That’s what I think of chaos. It forces me to change, it forces me to grow, to think. It keeps me… creative.”

Why be creative without chaos? There was no reason to adapt. Everything was predictable. Everything was as is. Everything was normal. And Kesi was not normal. Kesi, as her brother once told her, was extraordinary.

“We, at the circus, are the center of the storm.” Her finger continued to trace the lines that she memorized since she was a child, staring at the painting on her wall. “It’s our heart. It’s our essence. No show is identical. When you juggle, something always goes differently. A knife might be a little higher, a step a little to the left. But you’re quick, you adapt. And your energy is translated into the audience. They are brought into it too, into the chaos. ”

Kesi had feelings on the subject, clearly. She had desires. But rarely did she speak of them. They changed depending on which emotion was in control. Not to mention this poppy they were smoking truly expanded her mind. It was no wonder different acrobats had some before a performance. She could practically see chaos.

“Even if you believe in one god, or no gods, it doesn’t really matter.” It’s not like you have to worship Set if you’re part of the circus. “But the idea of chaos… that’s something we all embody. Don’t you think? That’s what helped us survive.”