One of the best memories Thenio had of his childhood was when his father took him to see a magic circus when he was five years old. It was a few months after his brother Lem was born, and Thenio's parents told him that it was a reward for being such a good boy and helping them look after the baby.

Later, he found out it was really just that his father had gotten a couple of tickets for free from one of his coworkers. That ruined the sentiment a bit, but it wasn't really surprising. Thenio knew that his father hated spending money on 'frivolous things.' At that age, he didn't exactly understand why some things were 'frivolous' and some weren't. He just knew that it seemed to include most of his favorite things, like toys and picture books and pastries from the bakery on the next street. And there was never enough money for them because all the money had to go to 'essentials.' That category was also confusing. It contained things that Thenio could recognize as being important, like bread and soap and magic crystals to make the lamps work. But he wasn't sure why it also included things like fancy new curtains for the dining room or an ever-growing collection of cute hats for Lem to wear when they went to the park.

In any case, if the things Thenio liked mostly went into the 'frivolous' category, then it only made sense for the circus to be included there. Because he loved it.

He laughed at the clowns who told jokes and acted out funny skits. And he watched in open-mouthed wonder while the jugglers tossed flaming sticks to each other and the illusionist used light magic to put on a dazzling display of fireworks that filled the inside of the huge circus tent.

There were horses wearing fancy harnesses and feathers on their heads. Real, live horses—not the horse-shaped golems that Thenio usually saw around the city. They pranced and galloped around the ring, and a woman in a sparkly dress did tricks while she balanced precariously on their backs. Then there were brightly-colored pygmy gryphons that jumped through rings and balanced balls on their beaks.

But the part that Thenio remembered most vividly was the acrobats.

He stared, transfixed, while they used wind magic to soar and tumble high above the stage, like a flock of graceful swallows. Thenio had never seen anyone use magic like that before, and he thought it must feel wonderful to be able to move so freely through the air.

At first, it was simply exciting. But as he watched, a strange, aching feeling rose up inside of him, and his throat tightened with an emotion he didn't quite understand. A painful sense of loss and longing.

I wish I could fly like that again.

It was a strange thought. At five years old, he could barely use magic at all, and he'd certainly never flown before. He didn't understand it then, and he didn't understand it when he thought back to that moment, even years later.

Strange thought. Strange feeling. But there they were. And Thenio never forgot them.

"How was it? Did you have fun?" Thenio's father asked as they walked from the circus grounds to the nearby trolley stop.

"Yeah! It was so amazing!" Thenio clung to his father's hand and half ran to keep up with his long strides. "There were so many animals! And those guys with the painted faces were really funny, huh?" He was usually a calm and quiet child, but for once he was chattering excitedly. "And the people flying around at the end were really great! They're all wizards who use wind magic, right? Can everybody who uses wind magic do that? Do you think I'll be able to use wind magic when I get older? I hope so. I want to be a magic acrobat when I grow up! It looks like so much fun!"

Thenio saw a crow swoop over the street ahead of them and land in a nearby tree. He briefly imagined himself flying high over the city and perching on rooftops to watch people below like the birds did.

His father looked down at him with a sigh. "Thenio. You can't pick a job just because it's fun. A job is how you get money. And money is how you live. Our house, the clothes we're wearing, the food we eat, the bed you sleep on at night. All those cost money. So you need a job that pays you regularly. Performance magic isn't like that. Sometimes you can make money. But sometimes you can't. Just because you have enough this month doesn't mean you will next month or next year. You always have to be worried about the future. It's much better to have a nice, stable job doing something that people will always need and always be willing to pay you for, even if it's something you don't like doing as much. Like healing magic. People will always need doctors. Or crafting magic. Magic crystals are everywhere, right? They have all kinds of uses. So people always need more of them. I help make magic crystals at the workshop, and people keep buying them, so I keep getting paid. So you and I and your mother and brother keep having food to eat." He sighed again. "Well…you're probably too young to really understand what I'm saying. But even at your age, it's important to start thinking about…."

The lecture went on while they waited for the trolley and lasted most of the ride home. There were a lot of things in it that Thenio didn't understand, but he got the most important point: He shouldn't talk about wanting to be a magic acrobat in front of his father anymore.

"Grownups are weird, you know? Why do they have to be so serious about everything?" Thenio asked Butterfly while he got her dinner ready that evening. "I mean, I just said I thought it looked fun. I never said I had to do it as a job or anything. Why is it so bad to want to do fun things?"

The cat didn't seem to have an answer. She just rubbed against Thenio's legs and meowed impatiently. He smiled a little at the sight of her staring expectantly up at him. Her funny, mismatched face—black on one side and orange on the other—never failed to cheer him up.

"Okay, okay.... Here, it's ready." He knelt down on the floor and set the bowl in front of Butterfly, who rushed to it and started chomping enthusiastically on the minced chicken. "Silly cat. I fed you at lunchtime. Why do you always pretend you're starving?"

Again, she didn't answer. But Thenio didn't expect her to. It was enough that she listened to him without lecturing him about anything.

When they'd gotten home, Thenio had made the mistake of telling his mother about the magic acrobats. He tried to explain that he already knew it wasn't a good job but that it looked really fun, so he wanted to try it sometime. But even that much was enough to earn him his second lecture of the afternoon—this time about the importance of good impressions and social standing and how performance magic wasn't a well-respected career. It was even harder to understand than his father's lecture about money. But again, he got the main idea: His parents did not like magic acrobats.

Thenio sat on the floor for a while, stroking Butterfly's soft fur and laughing at the funny snorting noises she always made when she ate. His parents didn't really like cats, either. But they liked mice even less, and getting an anti-rodent enchantment put on the house was very expensive. Thenio was secretly glad about that. Butterfly was his best friend, and he had happily taken on the responsibility of caring for her, which his parents had just as happily given up.

Cats were so much easier to please than people were.