By the Twelve... how much changes, how much stays the same, and how long had it been since...
Too long. Much too long.
Violet motes still danced in his vision, from the lingering fires of candles and from thoughts dredged more from the guts than from the soul. He counted breaths, until they entered the teens, and could no longer screen out the murmurs and last remnants of anticipatory applause from the crowd.
They expected love songs - it was Menphina's moon, after all, and Twelve help him, he'd been delivering sweet and songs of friendship and amorous affection for days now, drawing joy from voices and faces when he could.
Soon enough, they would have what they expected. The Celebration of Menphina loomed within a fortnight, and he would surely offer praise to the goddess, then, and feel it within his own heart, and be buoyed by the crowd once more.
But not yet. Before he could feel it, before he could even consider trading eyes like beds of violets, for eyes like sylvan glades in autumn, green and gold and framed by a red like sailors' favored sunsets, there was one more thing he had to do, and there was only one way it was to be done.
He was a bard, and this was his stage, and all else did not matter for the next five minutes.
And so the opening note strummed on his lute, quieting all else, preparing the air for the words and notes that would purge the last block, and provide his last sacrifice to Oschon before he could give Menphina her due.
"Shared a longing gaze with you and, too long, let it linger
Saw your eyes light up, soft and sincere
Held your silken hand upon the chord, guided your fingers
I never heard a note ring out so clear
One note, was all I could hear...
Falling, as the night was falling
I remember music, and an angel calling
In the tune I knew I was wanting, to believe in something
But I don't want to remember falling... for those eyes.
Slipped out of those robes, showed me your soul, showed you my vigor
Rejected inhibitions you held dear
Took me in, and held me, left me feeling like a winner
Let your heartbeat be the last note I could hear
Falling, as the night was falling
I remember music, and an angel calling
In the tune, I knew, I was wanting, to believe in something
But I don't want to remember falling... for those eyes.
Took our act upon the road, out stalking songs and sunsets
Went harmonizing with the crowds and flowers
Two fortnights of starry nights we spent watching horizons
Under a lovers moon we spent our hours
Yet Oschon still demands a price from those who would revere him
For some are not cut out to leave their homes
Too heavy was the price to me, a man who still must fear him
And upon the road I travel on alone.
Falling, as the night was falling
I remember music, and an angel calling
In the tune, I knew, I was wanting, to believe in something
But I don't want to remember falling... for those eyes."
Too long. Much too long.
Violet motes still danced in his vision, from the lingering fires of candles and from thoughts dredged more from the guts than from the soul. He counted breaths, until they entered the teens, and could no longer screen out the murmurs and last remnants of anticipatory applause from the crowd.
They expected love songs - it was Menphina's moon, after all, and Twelve help him, he'd been delivering sweet and songs of friendship and amorous affection for days now, drawing joy from voices and faces when he could.
Soon enough, they would have what they expected. The Celebration of Menphina loomed within a fortnight, and he would surely offer praise to the goddess, then, and feel it within his own heart, and be buoyed by the crowd once more.
But not yet. Before he could feel it, before he could even consider trading eyes like beds of violets, for eyes like sylvan glades in autumn, green and gold and framed by a red like sailors' favored sunsets, there was one more thing he had to do, and there was only one way it was to be done.
He was a bard, and this was his stage, and all else did not matter for the next five minutes.
And so the opening note strummed on his lute, quieting all else, preparing the air for the words and notes that would purge the last block, and provide his last sacrifice to Oschon before he could give Menphina her due.
"Shared a longing gaze with you and, too long, let it linger
Saw your eyes light up, soft and sincere
Held your silken hand upon the chord, guided your fingers
I never heard a note ring out so clear
One note, was all I could hear...
Falling, as the night was falling
I remember music, and an angel calling
In the tune I knew I was wanting, to believe in something
But I don't want to remember falling... for those eyes.
Slipped out of those robes, showed me your soul, showed you my vigor
Rejected inhibitions you held dear
Took me in, and held me, left me feeling like a winner
Let your heartbeat be the last note I could hear
Falling, as the night was falling
I remember music, and an angel calling
In the tune, I knew, I was wanting, to believe in something
But I don't want to remember falling... for those eyes.
Took our act upon the road, out stalking songs and sunsets
Went harmonizing with the crowds and flowers
Two fortnights of starry nights we spent watching horizons
Under a lovers moon we spent our hours
Yet Oschon still demands a price from those who would revere him
For some are not cut out to leave their homes
Too heavy was the price to me, a man who still must fear him
And upon the road I travel on alone.
Falling, as the night was falling
I remember music, and an angel calling
In the tune, I knew, I was wanting, to believe in something
But I don't want to remember falling... for those eyes."
"But in the laugh there was another voice. A clearer laugh, an ironic laugh. A laugh which laughs because it chooses not to weep."