;)
The last notes of the music had faded slowly into the air as a candle cast shadows across a dark blue face, alien yet somehow feminine. She had been smiling, teeth startlingly white against her dark lips.
“Fair enough,” the akontak had laughed at last, and when he saw the silver crane glittering in her hand, Tobias had known the day had been won.
That had been twelve chimes ago. As the sun had risen, Tobias had won Aena’s favor with a Fratavan folk song and proven himself worthy of playing at the White Crane. It was a queer sort of establishment that made musicians try out for the honor of playing, but once he had stepped inside the White Crane and amanged to catch the ending of a flutist’s performance, he suddenly understood. The White Crane was no ordinary tavern, and many and more legendary musicians had graced its stage…it excited Tobias that he was now counted among such prestigious company, even if he wasn’t being paid.
The lute had not been Tobias’s first weapon. No, as a child he had feasted on legends and heroes and trained himself in arms and other skills long forgotten. It wasn’t until much later that Tobias had discovered he preferred the sound of music over battle.
Tobias didn’t oft think of his childhood. For him, golden Ahnatep hung over like a specter, and any good memories he would have of his ancestral home were drowned out by that single terrible night. Though Tobias tried to avoid it, that night, and the mistakes he had made…it troubled him. He would sit up at night, unable to sleep for the fear of nightmares to come, and it was only the pricking of soft strings, and music in the air, that would finally lure him into a deep, dreamless sleep.
But on that day Tobias was still flush with his morning victory, and any thoughts of the past had been banished. Though it was now the afternoon, at the White Crane the excitement was only beginning. Patrons filed in through the door and hailed for food and drink, all the while Tobias waited on stage, lute to hand and silver crane in his pocket. He was the first to play that evening.
He was so excited, in fact, that he hailed the oncoming patrons with a smile and asked: “What shall I play first, my friends?”
On the 5th of Fall, 512 Years After the Valterrian.
The last notes of the music had faded slowly into the air as a candle cast shadows across a dark blue face, alien yet somehow feminine. She had been smiling, teeth startlingly white against her dark lips.
“Fair enough,” the akontak had laughed at last, and when he saw the silver crane glittering in her hand, Tobias had known the day had been won.
That had been twelve chimes ago. As the sun had risen, Tobias had won Aena’s favor with a Fratavan folk song and proven himself worthy of playing at the White Crane. It was a queer sort of establishment that made musicians try out for the honor of playing, but once he had stepped inside the White Crane and amanged to catch the ending of a flutist’s performance, he suddenly understood. The White Crane was no ordinary tavern, and many and more legendary musicians had graced its stage…it excited Tobias that he was now counted among such prestigious company, even if he wasn’t being paid.
The lute had not been Tobias’s first weapon. No, as a child he had feasted on legends and heroes and trained himself in arms and other skills long forgotten. It wasn’t until much later that Tobias had discovered he preferred the sound of music over battle.
Tobias didn’t oft think of his childhood. For him, golden Ahnatep hung over like a specter, and any good memories he would have of his ancestral home were drowned out by that single terrible night. Though Tobias tried to avoid it, that night, and the mistakes he had made…it troubled him. He would sit up at night, unable to sleep for the fear of nightmares to come, and it was only the pricking of soft strings, and music in the air, that would finally lure him into a deep, dreamless sleep.
But on that day Tobias was still flush with his morning victory, and any thoughts of the past had been banished. Though it was now the afternoon, at the White Crane the excitement was only beginning. Patrons filed in through the door and hailed for food and drink, all the while Tobias waited on stage, lute to hand and silver crane in his pocket. He was the first to play that evening.
He was so excited, in fact, that he hailed the oncoming patrons with a smile and asked: “What shall I play first, my friends?”
