Striking a Chord
15th Summer 516 A.V.
15th Summer 516 A.V.
Some things are best left to be said without words. Many nights Epifanio would be in his room simply playing through the day’s struggles to himself. Despite his charm his feelings were fairly complex. It showed in most of his music. Though, the piece he had been working on recently was like a plague to his beloved Eisen (gamba.) The truth in it all is that despite being a flirt and a charmer, he was lonely. He realized this after a number of events between different women within Avanthal recently.
It seemed like for the past few nights he would strike page after page of notes down on paper after playing them out. Remembering the specific tones he improvised while playing out his heart was complex.
It is simple enough to just play, but remembering or playing a specific song required memory and a sort of intelligence to perform without mistakes. During that time, he took to the advice with a few of the Snowsongs on how to incorporate flutes into his music while playing Eisen at the same time. He wasn’t ready for such a feat. Though, often in practice he would put the occasional chirp in between notes.
Performing in a tavern was also a difficult thing. People go there to get away, to enjoy life and drink, and hopefully some passion. Working there held a different story for Epifanio. He was doomed to see others having a great time without a worry and drinking away their problems. Often this resulted in him acting and playing along with them.
This time. Just this one he figured he would give it his all. Give his heart to Eisen. The result was spectacular to say the least. When he finished his first rough play through he even shed a few tears through it. As it was like no other song he had ever played before. It felt a bit more modern and different than playing on a series of notes which just seemed to follow a pattern. That was far too easy.
- - -
The night at the Red Diamond Tavern started off early. Flames creaked and passionate lovers sat by the hearth. All while Epifanio was working his way through the tavern, his instrument case open and ready for tips to the busking. People were off telling their own stories of excitement and plea. “Did you ever hear of that guy that got sent to prison for fire reimancy? A mage! Out in the open! It’s almost unthinkable!” Rumored a woman from afar. Luckily, Epifanio overheard it.
“The Beserk Vantha! His eyes ever red with the fiery flames!” Outspoke Epifanio. He grabbed most of everyone’s attention. In doing so he grabbed a nearby torch and held it to his face being careful not to set it afire in the act. Epifanio wasn’t sure of who all was in the tavern this night, but he sure did have a show to perform.
His voice went dark and cold to portray the horror story in its fullest.
“The nearing city with lights dancing on,
Like a distant fire burning in the night,
Each step coming closer in sight,
Fueling the rage inside the con.”
During the end of the stanza his voice got deeper and coarser. Each syllable more potent than the other.
“Ideas sparked and smirks emitted,
Freedom from prison,
His intention has risen,
His face lit up, a thrill hid what he committed.
Hands in his pockets, twiddling about,
Moving with a sweat of nervousness,
His eyes rampant with aggressiveness,
The city was in a drought!
A group sat in the streets,
People looked at him crazily,
He smiled towards them easily,
Every one of them sat still in their seats.
He went out of control, possessed by the heat,
They all danced with his white flames,
Not a one playing along with his games,
They all turned to crispy meat.
He laughed with a delightful joy,
his cruel heart wanted him to commit suicide,
He strapped his body with djed and replied.
His intentions were to destroy.
People screamed, cried, and pleaded,
He looked at them with sorrowful eyes,
They were the ones that led to this demise,
They all went down with him when he conceded.
His death was heard by many,
The fire-reimancer sentenced to death previously,
Was falsely accused which made him act deliriously,
In the end it caused him to kill plenty.”
A grisly story to be sure. A few of those that were drinking and watching Epifanio could almost see his own eyes turn red during the acting. Every now and then he would walk up to someone drinking or eating and tease them with the flame, being careful not to harm anyone, but still adding to the effect.
After the story was finished the Bard simply took a pause and offered small talk to those that were curious.
“How are you Epifanio”
“Oh, doing well, doing well! How is your son doing? I hear that he is coming of age tomorrow!”
“Wow! What a memory you have! He is excited and at the same time nervous. Poor kid hasn’t seen Morwen in person yet.”
…
“Ah! Epifanio! Great story!”
“Thank you, it would be nothing without your charm gracing this tavern, though!”
“Oh no, you’re rightfully insane as that beserker vantha!”
…
“Hey bard, how about a drink!?”
“Oh thanks, just the thing I need for my next performance!”
“Its on me! What you got planned for tonight?”
“Just a song, gather your maiden for this one!”
“Oh-ho, you hound!”
…
Epifanio travelled about the tavern all while thinking about the song. The song devoted to the Isur which had opened herself up to him. Then he almost froze as the door to the tavern opened.