...a myth -- that deep within the forests of Nightflower Island, there is a circus that only appears to those it chooses...

It’s beautiful -- too beautiful. Tents that shimmer like dew-draped silk beneath moonlight. Lights that twinkle in rhythms you feel more than see. Scents of caramelized fruit, toasted vanilla, and something warm and unknown drift on the wind. The closer you get, the sweeter it smells. The more impossible it feels.

They say this circus only comes to the outcasts. The wanderers... Those who who don’t quite belong. It appears to them and promises them wonder. Delight. A show they'll never want to leave.

But that’s the danger.

Because nothing on Enderas stays the same. Not the seasons. Not the Doomlings. Not even the stars themselves.

But this circus? This circus never changes. (Except for the popcorn prices. Those somehow keep going up.)

For years -- generations -- those who claim to have seen it describe the same thing: the same acts. The same music. The same faces, dancing and twirling beneath the velvet sky.

Faces that look… familiar.

Doomlings long gone. Those who wandered off and never returned. Now here they are, center stage. Smiling. Spinning. Still.

Some say it’s just a tale to scare young Doomlings. Others swear it’s real. That the circus is alive. That it watches you. That it waits.

You’re told: if you're in the forests of Nightflower Island and the circus appears to you, ignore it! Don't look. Don’t listen. Don’t follow the scent of sugar through the trees...

But then again… if the curtains parted just for you—

If the music beckoned, and the air turned sweet—

Wouldn’t you be curious...?

Wouldn’t you want to take just one peek inside?