23rd Spring, 510 AV
The Rearing Stallion was a bar of repute. Known to be loud and boisterous in the evenings, it was a tavern where one could find fun and cheap entertainment during the evening without venturing too far. Though it was an Inn for the shady as well as the upstanding it was a place where one could enjoy themselves, especially on family night. A few nights during each season were devoted to attracting families and even couples to watch travelling minstrels that had come to play. This night was one such night. Despite his lack of trust for humans, he loved a good story. Which is why he’d persuaded the entire Welcome Home to come this evening.
But boy had it been worth it. Stitch, Kamalia and the children seemed to be really enjoying themselves. The kids of course sat at the front to watch the entertainers as they danced, sang, played and other such things. The two adults and the Ivaski watched from close by to keep Damien in check predominantly. Gromhir beamed feeling the happiness in the room but he knew that there was more to come. He’d planned it.
They had been wowed by tall tales of heroism. Stories of beautiful princesses, dashing princes and evil monsters had captivated young minds. Funny sketches, fights and dances had sent ripples of laughter through audience. Loud and joyful music had filled the room but as Syna was setting, the festivities had begun to pick up. Gromhir looked to Stitch and Kamalia suddenly. “I shall get some drinks,” The Kelvic had an odd bounce in his step as he disappeared into the crowd. The act finished and the room went dark around everyone except for the small lights on each table.
A familiar voice filled the room through the darkness. “I am not a poet,” ambient music began to play in the background. Calm and joyful under tones swam their way around the audience. “Nor can I sing. But I have seen, heard and smelt many wonderful things. I have witnessed great power. I have smelt the very essence of the morning dew. I have heard a sound sweeter than even the morning birdsong. But I would share with you the story I live.”
Lights shone on the stage illuminated a white haired man wrapped tightly in a forest green cloak. Blue eyes flashed as he looked over the children illuminated before him. “For the story I live is filled with wondrous things. Terrible things! Happy things. And fun things,” each word the Kelvic spoke, he tried to fill with emotions. He knelt down before the children looking at each one gathered in turn then smiled. “Would you like to hear it?”
It was a strange sight to see the Kelvic so open. It was stranger still to see the guardian so animated when he was usually the stoic bastion of the Welcome Home. His gestures were slightly wild and embellished the story in odd but complimenting ways. But every word he spoke came from his heart, for it was driven by one thing. She was sitting in the crowd.
“Do not be fooled by my appearance. You see before you now a man like yourselves. But this book should not be judged by its cover. I can be a horrid monster. But I can be a loyal friend,” Gromhir smiled and stood up to his full height. “But this tale. It is not just about me. Oh no! For any story must have a beautiful Lady. None were more beautiful or kind than she. But do not trust everyone you meet. I was just lucky, this time.” Gromhir was picking his words carefully.
“I had no home when I met her. She found me on a beach, tired and alone. Her hair shines silver and her are like bright sun rises on a spring morning. She was generous. She gave me a home. A place to stay. But most of all, she gave me friendship when everyone else had pushed me away,” Gromhir singled out a single member of the younger audience with his gaze. “Going through life with no friends is not fun. Always be nice to those around you and don’t push them away.”
“But my beautiful Lady held a dark secret. One she showed me a few days after we met. She had a great power, but a terrible curse. Even now, she fights it. She could fell a deer with only her mind as a weapon. But it is a weapon that comes at great cost to oneself. I was not sure what to think but she had shown me kindness. I would show her the same. For it seemed I was not the only one who needed help.”
“She taught me many things. Simple, mundane things, like how to speak, how to act around people, how to show respect, all so I could blend back in with society. I would say she has done a good job. Life was safe. Life was good. But something changed all that. This is where our story takes a turn for the worst,” there was sadness now in Gromhir’s tone.
“You see children, not everyone is good natured like my Lady,” Gromhir sat on the end of the stage, a solemn, morose look in his cerulean orbs. There is always going to be someone who hangs around to spoil the fun, to ruin what was once pure and innocent. It is what jealously does to people. Even to ones as flawless as my Lady herself. Her enemy was like her. In fact, at one point, I even was fooled into thinking they were the same person. But they are not.”
“I was placed in a trap. But, that only served to anger my Lady even more,” Gromhir smiled. “My Lady came and brought the wrath of sea and the air down on the evil one. She saved me from the torture but she paid a heavy price. My Lady lost herself to sadness that day. Lost herself to the powers that she wields. But she was my saviour and now all I could do was be hers.”
“We travelled away from the land of ours enemy’s and sailed across the wide open sea. The winds carried us here. But it has still not been easy. My Lady was shaken and disturbed by the ordeal and even now, she still fights. But we have fought together. Where she was to lead and teach me, I have taught her. But she has taught me so much more.”
“She taught me something very important. She taught me how to love something. To cherish it. To protect it. Now, I hope she’ll let me use what I’ve learned. Because I want a happy ending to my story too.” Gromhir stopped to a chorus of cheers and shouts from the children and applause from the adults. He was no storyteller. But he had no problem in recounting his own tales.
Finally, Gromhir’s gaze fell on his Lady. He gaze a bow to the audience and Kamalia a smile before disappearing off the stage to let the real entertainers get back to their jobs. A few short moments later, Gromhir placed a hand on Kamalia’s shoulder, kissing her cheek gently. The small group returned to the Orphanage not long after. Overflowing with joy and merriment, the children slept soundly, even Stitch left them alone as they sat in front of the fireplace.
