A Night at the County Fair
Copyright© 2025 by Arcadia
Chapter 3: Loki’s Chosen
“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!!!”
Her twin brother’s blood-curdling scream sent Rian’s adrenaline pumping, and she took off through the crowd. This was far from her first time being chased by Wyatt in a homicidal rage.
And it ended just like every other time — with Rian easily eluding him, snaking through the mass of people. But this time, she found it harder to keep the delighted grin on her face.
Okay, fine, maybe that was pretty dickish. But I mean, he should really be grateful! He was gonna spend all night being sooooooo STUPID. And then he was gonna fall flat on his face anyway! I just saved him some time. And gave him a villain!
She wasn’t even convincing herself. They were twins, but she felt like they came from different planets sometimes. He was always so hung up on such unimportant, dumb shit. He lived in such a safe little bubble with no idea what real problems were. Why did he even like Madison Bell anyway? She was just some basic bitch who had no idea he existed.
He should just bone that little redhead who’s always stopping him from falling down open manholes.
“OOF!”
Rian let out a grunt as someone slammed into her from the side, wrapping her up in their arms. For a nanosecond, she thought maybe Wyatt had somehow tracked her down after all — but then she recognized the rings digging into her skin.
Sora.
The grin returned, but without any hint of the malice it’d held for her brother.
“Gotcha!” Sora said, pulling back to show a grin of her own. It was punctuated by the silver ring pierced into her lip, just like the ones in her nose, ears, and eyebrows. Her shoulder-length hair was hanging loosely, somehow always managing to look carefully messy — jet black except for the front, dipped in a faded green that matched her eyes. But surrounded by heavy eyeshadow, the emeralds set into her face seemed to positively glow.
Reddish in the sweltering heat, Rian could’ve studied the details of her face for hours. Sora was always so effortless in looking, just ... fucking cool. She was wearing fraying, dark blue jean shorts and a black crop tank, showing off her belly button ring and the top of a snake tattoo that ran down most of her leg.
Sora’s hand took hers, shooting back close to give Rian a quick peck on the cheek, and Rian felt herself start to blush in the same spot. Sora pumped her eyebrows up and down alongside an impish grin.
“I tollllddd you,” Rian admonished quietly. She knew that’s why Sora did it in the first place, though — of course.
“I know, I know,” Sora said with a shrug, not letting go of Rian’s hand. “You’re ashamed of us. I understand.”
Rian wasn’t going to go through this again. Sora was joking, but she knew there was an undercurrent of truth to her exasperation, too, even if Sora would never come right out and actually say it. Rian just ... wasn’t ready to let the rest of the world in on their little secret yet. Not even after...
Shit, has it really been like 8 months?
Sora gave her a gentle nudge to knock her out of her thoughts. Sometimes Rian was a little more like her brother than she wanted to admit — out loud, anyway.
“I’m just fucking with you,” Sora said, her smile softening. “Well, not in public, obviously.”
Rian rolled her eyes, but she knew that meant Sora wasn’t going to press the issue any more tonight.
“So, did I hear somebody scream they were gonna kill you?” Sora cocked her head, a teasing grin saying she knew the answer already.
Rian snorted. “Yeah. It. The usual.” Her eyes rolled at the very mention of her twin brother.
Sora drooped a little until Rian turned to her, the two of them meandering to nowhere in particular.
“You shouldn’t call him that,” Sora said, a gentle smile still on her face. She squeezed Rian’s hand. “Be nice. He’s sweet.”
Rian rolled her eyes again, but that warm, kind smile just stayed on Sora’s face and Rian gave in with a groan. Just like always.
“Fiiiinnneee. I know. You’re right.”
They were both well aware the smile didn’t really have much to do with it, though Sora had never approved of the way she and Wyatt treated each other.
Okay, mostly how I treat him. And ... I guess that’s fair.
Rian looked over at Sora, the late afternoon sun lighting her up like she was carrying a golden spotlight with her everywhere she went. So, a usual day, as far as Rian was concerned. Sora gave a curious glance when Rian squeezed her hand and pulled her a little closer while they walked.
“I ... didn’t think you were gonna come today,” Rian said, not completely changing the subject.
Did she come just because I told her I was coming?
They’d been ... doing whatever it was they were doing for a long time now. But it still just didn’t seem possible that someone like Sora would go out of her way to hang out with... her. It still made her heart flutter faster inside her chest.
“Eh, fam came too.” Sora shrugged. “So, figured, hey, why not.” The smile on her face seemed forced, which Rian understood. As much as Rian hated the fair, Sora hated it even more.
Although... hate isn’t exactly the right word.
Sora actually kind of loved the fair. It was just ... more complicated than that, Rian knew.
She looked around for a distraction, something to get Sora grinning again — and she quickly found it. A little smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth and Sora noticed, turning to follow her steady stare to a pile of crates and equipment behind the main stage. It was... unattended.
They exchanged knowing, wolfish grins and approached as casually as they could. Nobody was paying them any attention, and the area behind the main stage was cluttered with cords and electronics that kept people from exploring.
Well, most people, anyway.
On the side of the crates was the same logo, some ridiculous-looking mustache superimposed over a top hat with the name MEAD E. OCRE THE MAGNIFICENT under it all.
Some kind of comedy magic act? They have something lame like that every year on the first night, pretty sure.
Sora was diving in, rooting through the crates with a grin that kept getting wider while Rian posted up on sentry duty, trying to look like they both belonged there. When Rian turned back to Sora, she had produced a top hat in one hand and a goofy plastic wand in the other, getting Rian to guffaw.
“Abro cadabro ... accio ... rabbito!” Sora intoned, tapping the upturned hat.
Nothing happened.
She turned it over and shook it, and some hidden compartment’s flap came loose inside. Out tumbled a huge tangle of red ribbon in a big ball — it must’ve been more than 20 yards of the stuff.
They laughed, delighted, and that glint appeared in Sora’s eye that always sent a charge through Rian. Nobody else had ever had that effect on her, not like Sora. Not even close.
Surveying the crates of magic equipment, Sora stepped toward Rian and took her by the shoulders, an even more excited grin on her face.
“Rian, do you know what this is??”
Rian nodded solemnly, trying to keep her own grin from escaping.
“A blessing from Loki,” she responded.
“THE GOD OF MISCHIEF FAVORS US ONCE AGAIN!”
They both burst into laughter. By the time they’d calmed down, Sora was much more meticulously going through the inventory. Casually, she plopped the hat on Rian’s head. It sunk down almost over her eyes, much to Sora’s delight.
“Yes, yes, this will do just fine,” Sora muttered, practically salivating, then took Rian by the hand and led her cautiously around the side of the stage so they could get a look at what was out front.
There were some people milling around outside the bleachers that set the whole area off from the rest of the fairgrounds, but nobody hanging out near the stage yet. No one was set to perform until later.
“Bingo,” Sora whispered, her attention on the stage where a microphone sat in its stand, a stool beside it. The glint in her eye got a little brighter.
Backstage, she tugged Rian over to the mess of cords that led to a controller and mixer. Next to it was a laptop showing an open window: “MEAD E. OCRE PLAYLIST.” Sora looked to the heavens, her hands together as if she were praying.
“I swear, patron of trickery and all that is mischievous, we shall make you proud.”
Dramatically, Sora hit play.
...
And no sound came out.
Rian took the hat off, planting it on Sora this time and watching with the same amusement as it lowered itself over her forehead. She took it off while she performed a fancy bow, making room for Rian to take over at the console.
Sometimes — okay, like, all the time — Rian felt like she was struggling to just keep up with Sora. But this stuff? This was what she was good at, and they both knew it.
Immediately, she made sense of the cords and connections ... which weren’t actually that hard to figure out since they were all labeled.
But obviously we’re not going to tell Sora that.
She rejiggered a couple, flipped a switch, and turned back to Sora with a shrug.
“Should be good to go. You wanna do the honors?”
Sora bit her lip, thinking it over. “No, wait. You go out front. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
The devilish smirk on her face made Rian tingle all over with anticipation. They’d done some pretty mischievous things, but this was shaping up to be the most hilarious prank they’d ever pulled. She knew that already, even though she wasn’t entirely sure what Sora was cooking up.
Or ... maybe it’ll be our shortest-lived prank ever. One or the other.
As instructed, Rian sidled out front and took a seat on the blazing hot metal bleachers. She didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, music started playing over the sound system on the stage, and Sora bounded out from where the two dark curtains at the back of the stage met.
Rian immediately started laughing uncontrollably. Sora was wearing a ridiculously oversized tuxedo jacket — complete with tails trailing on the ground behind her. She’d rolled up the sleeves so her hands stuck out the ends, pointed rings still on her fingers and her crop tank and shorts showing underneath. The top hat completed the ensemble, somehow secured so it no longer slipped beyond her pierced eyebrows.
And Rian had to admit, even while she tried to catch her breath from laughter, Sora somehow still made it look... cool.
She is such a fucking badass.
“Please, please, ladies and gentlemen, settle down!” Sora said, tapping the microphone experimentally. To Rian’s relief, it was working.
“Play ‘Free Bird!’” Rian yelled, but Sora was on another plane of existence — ascended to a level of mischief that made Rian dead certain there was no one else on Earth like the woman on stage.
And she likes... me.
“Yes, that’s right, it is I, the Mistress of Mischief!” Sora bellowed out.
Rian hooted and clapped while Sora took another bow to the nonexistent audience.
“For my first trick!” She looked at Rian and took off the hat, letting hair fall back into its disorderly place. “I shall do ... something... magical!”
“Ooooohhh!” Rian yelled mockingly — and then she did a double-take when she saw something out of the corner of her eye: A few people were filing in and taking a seat on the other set of bleachers.
Sora, though, remained completely unfazed. She showed the inside of the hat around as if every seat were filled and she weren’t some teenager in a suit obviously made for a very large man.
“You see! A normal, run-of-the-mill top hat! Just like all of us wear every day!”
Another family filed in, then another. Rian was trying not to explode with laughter. This was going so much better than her wildest expectations already. She wondered how long Sora could keep it going without actually managing to do any magic tricks ... but she wasn’t about to underestimate the Mistress of Mischief.
“But!” Sora said, sticking up a finger. “I’ll need an assistant!” She closed her eyes and started moving around the stage as if pushed and pulled by some invisible force, until she slowed and pointed at one of the children who’d sat down on the bleachers, opening her eyes again.
“Young man! YOU’VE GOT THE MAGIC IN YOU!” The boy — he couldn’t have been more than 6 years old — grinned in excitement as if he’d known it was true his whole life. “Come on up here! Come on! Quick! Magic waits for no one!”
The boy scampered up one of the sets of wooden steps to the stage, completely willing to accept that a magician could be a pierced and tattooed teenager with green hair and a mismatched, ill-fitting outfit. His parents apparently were, too.
“Okay, junior magician, tell the folks out there your name.” Sora knelt down and proffered the microphone.
“Tyson,” the boy said in a small voice, still grinning.
“Hi Tyson. I’m... THE MISTRESS OF MISCHIEF!” She thundered out her stage name dramatically, but nobody except Rian and Tyson seemed to think it was uproariously funny.
“All right there, Tyson,” the Mistress said, standing back up and holding out the hat again, just above the boy’s eye level. “Reach your hand in there and tell me if you feel a piranha or something.”
Tyson gave her a shocked look.
“Go ahead, it’s okay. The kid in the last show found the piranha ... what are the chances there are two of them?”
That elicited a chuckle from the several people now scattered around the bleachers, but not Tyson. Nonetheless, he bravely reached up his hand and fished around inside the hat, his little tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth in concentration. Finally, he gave up and shrugged.
“Empty,” he said into the mic, clearly disappointed.
Sora feigned confusion. “Wait, really?”
She peered into the hat and pulled it closer, sticking her face into it and getting a few laughs from the — holy shit, when the fuck did so many people get here??
There had to be at least two dozen people sitting in the bleachers now, most of them families, watching the show like... like it’s a real fucking show.
Wow. People are so fucking stupid.
“Aha!”
Rian’s attention snapped back to the stage as Sora apparently found something in the hat. She set the hat on the stool next to the mic stand and thrust her own hand in ... and ... started pulling out the red ribbon.
The crowd clapped as she kept tugging at it and tugging at it.
“Ah! There we go! Here, hold this.”
Sora began unspooling the ribbon and piling it into Tyson’s waiting arms. Before long, the ribbon was piling up over his face, bringing some more laughs. By the time she was done, the jumbles of ribbon covered the poor boy, who stood there dutifully — a junior magician with a job to do.
“Hey now it’s empty, there we go!” She clapped for herself and the audience joined in. “Big hand for Tyson, everybody — and hey, don’t worry, that’s yours to take home, big guy! A souvenir from... THE MISTRESS OF MISCHIEF!”
She ushered Tyson off the stage, a giant grin poking out from beneath the yards of ribbon as he stumbled down the steps back to his family.
Holy shit. That was like ... she’s like ... actually fucking doing it.
Rian had stopped laughing and was just grinning as big as Tyson now, in awe of the woman on stage. She’d never felt Sora’s magnetic pull more.
More onlookers had arrived, maybe following the sound of microphones and laughter, filling up the bleachers more than halfway. There were even people on either side of Rian.
“Now!” The Mistress of Mischief exclaimed, sticking her finger in the air again. She was pacing the stage and handling the microphone as if she did this every day. “It’s... time ... for a crowd favorite. Everybody always loves this one! Who here thinks they’re immune to hypnosis, hmm?”
She motioned for those who fit the description to raise their hand, and hands went up all around Rian, much to her amusement.
Holy shit, is she really gonna try to hypnotize someone??
Sora seemed to look over the audience with a discerning eye ... until she landed on her target: pointing right at Rian.
“You there!”
I should’ve known.
Rian cracked a smile, pointing questioningly to herself.
“Yes, the pretty one!”
The audience laughed a little and Rian felt herself turn a little redder in spite of herself.
“I need a skeptical volunteer to assist with this one, and you look as skeptical as they come! Why don’t join me up here on stage!”
Unable to stop grinning, Rian caught a glimpse of the bleachers as she got up. They must’ve been three-quarters full. On the way up the steps, she got a better look, confirming her estimate and—
Holy shit. Is that Mr. Pamponella?
There was no doubt about it. Her creepy science teacher was sitting alone at the top of the bleachers, watching eagerly.
What a weirdo. Of course he’d go see a fucking magic show at the fair on his own.
Face-to-face on stage, sweat matted the green of Sora’s hair, poking out from beneath the top hat. Her cheeks were flushed with heat and excitement, and her midriff almost glistened with perspiration. In any other situation, those would’ve been the sexiest things about her.
But right now? It was the unbelievable run Sora was on. They loved getting as big an audience as they could for as outlandish a prank as they could muster. This, though ... this was a fucking legend in the making.
They just beamed at each other, grinning for a beat too long as they stood on stage together. Sora cleared her throat.
“So, you don’t think I can hypnotize you, huh?”
Rian played along, shrugging.
“Okay, well tell everybody your name.” Sora held out the mic, and Rian stared at her with a daring smirk.
Rian cleared her throat. “Sora,” she said, trying to keep the giggle inside that wanted to burst out. The real Sora, unprepared, had a little less luck, turning away for a second to compose herself again.
“Really?” she said, trying to marshal her grin. “You don’t really look like a Sora, if you don’t mind me saying. You’re much too...”
Rian leaned into the mic. “Sexy?” The audience laughed, and Sora tried to contain her proud grin.
“Hey, you said it, not me,” Sora said. Rian tried not to preen at the admiring look Sora was giving her, like the Mistress of Mischief was somehow impressed with Rian, when Sora was the one who was pulling all this off so smoothly.
“Well okay, Sora,” the Mistress said as she fished into one of the tuxedo jacket’s pockets. Triumphantly, she yanked out a golden chain that led to an old-timey pocket watch. “Aha!”
Rian shook her head subtly in absolute admiration, and Sora gave her a quick wink to acknowledge that holy shit, this was fucking iconic.
How did she even pull all this together so fast??
She began dangling the watch in front of Rian’s face, back and forth.
“You’re getting very, very... hypnotized,” Sora said into the microphone to a few chuckles.
Rian did her best to look like she was staring intently, nodding her head along with the movement of the watch.
“Good, good. Feel your subconscious mind melding with ... the ... umm ... pulse of ... the universe...”
Rian clenched her jaw, willing her face to stay stone-still instead of cracking into laughter.
“Now, I’m going to count to three. At one, you’re going to feel very calm and content,” Sora said in a soothing voice, continuing to pendulum the watch in front of her. “At two, you’re going to clear your mind of all extraneous thoughts. And at three ... you’ll be so relaxed, all you’ll want to do is whatever the Mistress of Mischief commands. Err, within legal parameters of course,” she added hastily, and the audience gave a polite chuckle. “You will stay in this blissful state until I say the magic word: Loki.
“Ready?”
Rian gave what she hoped looked like a somewhat-hypnotized nod, doing her best to suppress a smile.
“One ... you’re calm and content... two ... your mind is clear... three!”
Sora waved a hand in front of Rian’s face, and Rian kept herself as blank as possible. The Mistress of Mischief grinned out to the audience.
“All right! Well, so much for Sora the Skeptic!” She pretended to whisper to the audience, “Now, let’s have a little fun, shall we?” Turning back to Rian, she gave her first command. “Sora, please bark like a dog.”
As commanded, Rian did her best few dog yips to a few laughs, and the Mistress led a smattering of applause.
“Hey pretty good! Okay, let’s try something else. Hmm.” She seemed to ponder for a second, then raised the mic back to her mouth. “Sora, why don’t you tell everybody here a deep, dark secret you’ve never told anyone else. Go ahead, it’s just us here, you can trust us.” She gave a melodramatic wink to the audience.
Rian’s palms were sweating even more as her eyes pleaded with Sora for direction on what the hell she was supposed to say. She didn’t have any idea what a good answer would be.
“Umm...” she started, speaking into the mic and hoping something coherent would follow, “I...”
“Yes?” Sora encouraged her.
“I had a science teacher, Gerardo Pamponella, in school, and ... one time ... he asked me to eat an entire banana during detention.”
Sora bit her lip, trying to respond without giving away the game. “Oh yeah?” was all she could manage without breaking.
Rian nodded. “Yeah. He ... he told me not to tell anybody and said he’d give me an ‘A’ if I did it reealll slow. Without peeling it.”
“I see. And...” Sora struggled, chasing a quaver from her voice. “And did you... like Mr. Pamponella’s banana?”
Rian shook her head, about to lose it. “No. It was old and spotty, and way too...” Oh God, must ... finish ... without laughing... “too mushy.”
The only two people who were amused were both on stage, and Sora tried to cover up her laughter with a gasp instead.
“Hooohh well, I guess we got more than we bargained for there! Tell you what, how about we move on, huh?” Rian made to leave, but Sora caught her by the shoulder. “Oh no, I’m not done with you yet. You’re hypnotized, remember?”
Rian blushed. Shit.
“I’m gonna need your help with this next trick ... and also someone else ... hmm...”
Sora surveyed the crowd again, this time settling on some guy with a dadbod that matched the vibe of his cargo shorts and thinning hair. He hadn’t been raising his hand; he was just leaning against the bleachers idly.
He shrugged, though, and came up the steps while Sora pulled a deck of cards out of a different pocket.
“Okay, sir, I think you know what’s coming — I’m going to saw you in half!”
The man looked briefly startled, but Sora held up the card deck and then gave a start, as if she’d been expecting to see a saw there instead.
“Oh ... well, okay I guess we’re doing a card trick.”
Rian had never seen Sora this... goofy before. She suddenly got the feeling Sora would have been able to make her grandparents laugh. Which was not a pairing she’d ever really thought of, but ... now ... well, it made her want to smile a little bit.
If I wasn’t hypnotized, of course.
Sora handed the deck of cards to Rian and stuck the microphone in the guy’s face. “What’s your name, sir?”
“Devin.” He was eyeing them both like this whole thing looked even more ridiculous up close — which Rian couldn’t blame him for. She couldn’t understand why nobody else seemed to be giving them that look.
“Okay, Devin!” Sora said to the crowd. “Please take the deck of cards from my gorgeous, leggy assistant over here.” She gave Rian a wink. Rian wasn’t sure how she’d feel about it later, but right now, she had a hard time minding who knew that the Mistress of Mischief thought she was gorgeous.
Warily, Devin took the deck, still packaged, and pulled the cards out into his hand.
“It’s a brand-new deck of cards, correct? Feel free to look them over, make sure there’s nothing weird about them.”
He gave the cards a cursory inspection then shrugged, speaking into the mic again.
“Yeah, looks normal.”
Sora gave an exaggerated wink to the crowd.
“Please pull a card from the deck, Devin — but don’t show it to me! Just show it to the charming and beautiful Sora over there.”
The Mistress of Mischief turned away so she couldn’t see, and Devin held up a card at random to show Rian — the three of hearts.
Once Devin said he’d done that, Sora told him to insert the card back into the deck, and she turned around to take the cards from him. Holding the deck up to her forehead, she pretended as if she were somehow telepathically divining what card he’d picked ... while never taking her eyes from Rian.
Shit. Am I supposed to do something?
Her mind scrambling to keep up, Rian slid her hand down to her side, where the audience couldn’t see it. As subtly as she could, she folded her pinkie and ring fingers — leaving three for Sora to spot. That was the best she could come up with.
Flippantly, Sora tossed the whole deck off-stage.
“Welp, won’t be needing that anymore!” She got a little laugh, at least.
But her gaze kept returning to Rian, looking more insistent.
How the hell am I supposed to tell you the suit??
She could feel the sweat dripping down her forehead, into her vision.
As casually as she could, Rian scratched her chest a little longer than would be normal — right over her heart. She had to hope that was gonna be good enough for Sora to get the message.
Suddenly, Sora threw her hands up to the heavens.
“OH MAGIC OF MISCHIEF, REVEAL YOURSELF TO YOUR MISTRESS!!!!”
Then she teetered around the stage, nearly toppling over the edge at one point, before careening back to the two of them with a gasp.
“Your card was ... THE THREE OF HEARTS!”
Rian’s mouth dropped open.
Sora hadn’t just said the card. Somehow, she was holding the card up for everyone to see. The little hairs on the back of Rian’s neck stood on end, and she couldn’t stop grinning.
Holy fucking shit. She’s ... she’s actually fucking magic.
The crowd gave her a polite clap, much less impressed than Rian was.
Sora took a deep bow and Devin exited the stage. Rian stared at her the whole time, slack-jawed. Sora just gave her a wink, then cleared her throat, looking back to her audience.
“And now, for my next—”
“HEY! WHAT ARE YOU— TAKE THAT OFF!”
They both whipped around to the steps opposite them to see the source of the voice. It was immediately clear who the easily 300-pound man with the giant mustache was, stomping up to the stage in a dress shirt and pants — and conspicuously missing a jacket and hat.
The two of them quickly exchanged a gleeful look, no longer needing to keep straight faces. Before Rian could take off running down the near steps, Sora shocked her one more time.
“SMOKEBOMB!” Sora yelled with an elated grin, and she threw something right in front of them as the real magician barreled toward them. A POOF of smoke went up — covering them — and Rian felt Sora take her hand, the pair giggling and letting out all the laughs they’d been holding in as they scampered down the steps, behind the stage, and out into the rest of the fair.
Mead E. Ocre was still in hot pursuit — or at least, what qualified as hot pursuit for him. Rian felt pretty confident he was going to be even easier to lose than her brother.
Still hand-in-hand, Sora pulled off the top hat, giddily sending it flying into the air, then they separated long enough for her to strip off the giant tuxedo jacket, leaving it on the dusty ground as they twisted and turned their way through the crowd — leaving the real magician huffing and puffing behind.
They kept running for a while, just in case, until they both needed to catch their breath. Sora pulled Rian behind the building nearest them — the ag building, judging by the smell — so they could double over in laughter without anyone seeing them. The stench of shit wafting through the air didn’t deter them.
“Bruh,” Rian wheezed out. “That. Was straight. FIRE.”
Sora took a deep breath, grinning at her, then let out a squeal of excitement, like she’d been holding it in since the start of the magic show.