Timestamp: 50th of Summer, 520 A.V.
She was barefoot again, perched upon the counter in the kitchen of The Protea Inn, a parchment and quill pen in her hand. A bottle of ink was nearby. The young woman had been baking and cooking all morning and was obviously ready for a break by the time the old bard had wandered in looking for a shady spot, fresh juice, and a space to work on the new wooden flute. Xander, one of her newest wizened guests (and by far the most interesting) was sanding a flute in the indoor gathering area and watching Tazrae with some amusement.
They’d been talking for a while now… back and forth banter that was half debate half conversation. To Xander, Tazrae was one of the more entertaining people he’d met in a while. She came alive talking about music… and seemed endlessly fascinated in his life as a bard.
He was partially amused because his hostess wasn’t a bit mad at him for working on a new instrument inside out of the sun, a work that required sanding and making a mess. But mostly he was amused because she was so precocial. He’d already heard her story about running off from Riverfall and starting a business on her own in Falyndar’s wilds. The old bard was finding the entire trip very amusing and had in the instant of meeting Tazrae, understood why his Master had sent him over to Syka. He didn’t have many good seasons left, not with his old bones giving him problems and his heart acting up… but there was something about the sun and the sand that was having a rather recuperative effect on him.
Or indeed it might just be his newest unexpected student. He’d found out, almost immediately, that Tazrae was not going to charge him a dime to live at the Inn as long as he taught her a thing or two and held mini-concerts in the Gathering Room and the Main Deck when he felt of a mind too. And Syka, surprisingly, had a host of things he actually needed like a decent healer, fresh food, and no devastating winter in sight. He also loved to fish and he’d found something of a companion in one of the founders – Mathias – who also enjoyed the occupation almost as much. So, for Xander, there was no real reason NOT to be in Syka…. at least not currently.
"I'm serious! You of all people should understand the power of the sung word. It’s the best way possible to start a rumor or secure a legend. Nothing is a legend until it has been rendered into song or tale." Tazrae insisted, tossing her wildly curly hair and grinning at Xander.
Xander, as patient as always, simply smiled at Tazrae. "Tazrae, be that as it may, true bards create a song. Those songs are immortalized just by the fact that they were created by this famous bard or that famous bard. It’s the great ballads that merit attention, not because of who sings them, but because of their content. True bards have gifts, and their ballads are beyond compare… whereas you argue any ditty has merit or even more merit than those carefully composed ballads just because they are in fact sung more often…" He insisted. It was starting to become an old argument between them.
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