RESONANCE
ACT I, SCENE VI
ACT I, SCENE VI
The Wanderer's Lantern Inn, in the Lavender Beds
(Special acknowledgements go to Kiht'li Jinjahl, Ereshkigal Atropos, and Lottie Forsaidh for their contributions to this installment, which is derived from our RP logs. Thanks to all three of you!)
From the outside, one could be forgiven for missing the place. It wasn't the largest edifice in this part of the Gridanian village, and was nestled between two larger properties. The front gate featured lively woodwork, true, and the sign of the Tonberry was distinct enough, but the place had an air of being satisfied with its position as a locals' favorite rather than a grand destination. The Sakura trees in the yard, in full pink bloom with the season, obscured much of the outside save the path to the door, giving those wandering in a feeling of sanctuary under the warm-tinged and dappled shadows. Despite the isolation, the place did have the benefit of being quite near to one of the more prominent market and advertising boards in the area, and got just enough curious clientele from foot traffic to keep it in a comfortable business without driving the regulars off.
It was a connoisseur's sort of inn, in truth, trusting to its curious and distinct house beverages, and perhaps a little bit to the entertainment room below, to build its reputation, one that they hoped would be as potent and persistent as the little green entities whose images decorated wall and rug, and for whom the house's most powerful concoction, the Tonberry Tonic, took its inspiration.
For all this, though, the tall bard was, for once, not there to drink, at least not more than was proper for taking up time at one of the cozy tables near the fireplace; he had been satisfied with a mug of the house mead, the better to ruminate. He sat alone, for the moment, content to watch the interaction between the regulars; the lady of his favor had promised to come by eventually in the evening, once her appointed tasks were completed. A clutch of off-duty soldiers were sharing a raucous tale by the bar, something about a goobbue and spell-flinging, and he caught the occasional glance from the well-formed barkeeper, a woman of highland blood; he wondered, idly, whether their usual barkeep - a fetching Roegadyn woman, spicy of both skin tone and disposition - was off that night.
He'd taken a bit of time to converse, briefly, with Ereshkigal, upon arriving, speaking softly to her of the request he'd made a fortnight before though, she'd had her hands full with patrons for much of the evening. He watched her bustle about the tavern floor, looking every bit the perky mix of scholar and businesswoman she'd become, styled pigtails flouncing as she stepped, tail picking up effortlessly with each spin to avoid swatting chairs and guests, and her well-fit dress of Limsan cut making her the model for barmaids everywhere, even though she was, for all intents, the owner of the establishment. There had been a time when she was simply a digger and a scholar, spending time in caves and in study of rocks and lost history, and he had been fresh from his shepherding days, not having found his audience, relying on his skill with the bow to earn gil guarding her excavation team. There had even been a time of greater closeness between them, but it had melded into a solid friendship as each of them, having a dream bigger than simple dalliance, chose a separate path. Odd, in retrospect, that it should bring them both into the business of entertaining tavern patrons, in their own ways.
The door opened, letting in a cool breeze, and into the room stepped a Miqo'te male of the same scholarly disposition that he had once associated with Eresh herself. He was clad in a green robe, of a fashion commonly seen among Limsan arcanists, and his skin and well-groomed hair were a grey that reminded the bard of pipe-smoke. The bard recognized him, from a pair of brief encounters, as the personage he had come to see this evening: Kiht'li Jinjahl, Eresh's brother.
"Dare I ask?" The miqo'te in question directed a gaze across the tavern, as his eye fell upon the owner.
Eresh herself turned to face him, and waved. "We're up and running." She stepped through the small crowd, to take her brother's arm. "Come this way. You have someone waiting."
The bard took a quick sip from his mug, and eyed the two as they interacted.
"We're open? And who needs what?" The learned Miqo'te allowed himself to be escorted through the crowd.
Eresh nodded in the bard's direction. "Nathan requested to speak to you about your skills."
The thus-named bard nodded, suppressing the amused thoughts brought on by her phrasing, and politely gestured them over, addressing Kiht directly when the pair reached the table. "That I did. I was hoping I might have a few moments of your time." He could sense the gears turning in the Miqo'te's head as the answer came.
"I see; it's been some time Nathan. I trust you are well? How can I be of assistance?" The scholar settled at the table.
Ereshkigal, harried by the customers and business, interrupted with a quick practicality directed at both bard and brother. "If you need anything, let me know. And then tell me all about this meeting. You boys have me curious." She stepped away, to have a quick word with the patrons, and check on the hyuran bartender, who was humming to herself and cleaning the bar top, possibly thankful for a break in the action.
The bard patted his tunic, and took another sip of the mead, before replying. "I'm well enough, sir, but I am hoping that you might have the scholarly range to help me with a little puzzle. It seems like something I -should- know, but... well, is there a private room where we might share a few words? Nothing hostile, just a matter that a little less cacophony would help with."
The scholar across from him must have been curious, but he reacted promptly. "We can step to Eresh's office, if she doesn't mind."
The woman herself had apparently heard her name, and smiled a quick goodbye to one of the patrons before calling over to them. "You boys can head on there now if you'd like. Let me know if I need to bring room service."
Kiht stepped from the table. "If you will then my friend, we'll see what we can discover." He turned, and gestured for the bard to follow. "You do know the way to my dear sister's room, right?"
Nathan clucked his tongue, likewise getting to his feet from the table. "I'm sure I can find it."
"You mean you've never been? Twelve blessed..." The bard found himself the target of the sort of amused glance that he was more used to directing at others, than receiving himself. "Allow me to buy you a drink in celebration of finding the lone highlander in Eorzea that hasn't found himself there."
Nathan glanced briefly toward Eresh, who by accident or design, was not looking at them, and shrugged, following Kiht to the back of the tavern, and through the door into the staff's quarters.
Another door admitted them into an ornately laid-out office, serving as both meeting space and the proprietress' personal quarters in the back. The two males disregarded the bed and living space, and ignored her meeting desk and its two chairs to take seats across from each other at the large wooden meeting table within.
"Now, what have you brought me?" The scholar's tone was calm and collected; betraying neither undue curiosity nor annoyance.
Nathan had taken the few strides to the table, taking in the layout of the place; as he sat, his gaze lingered a bit longer on the room's light source: an ornate chandelier consisting of lit and hanging suns and stars and moons. It was very much the sort of fixture he himself would favor, if he ever meant to have a house of his own, and gave off a bright yellow glow which lent the wood furniture a certain warmth. He had spent a full few seconds wondering what exactly was lit in the fixtures - there was no tell-tale flickering to suggest flame - before he focused back on the other male to answer.
"Something I can't read, and that I hope you might at least help me with, if it is familiar to you." The bard removed the crumpled and smoothed-over parchment from the relative safety of his tunic pocket, and slid it across the table. He felt a slight hitch in his own breath, and blinked to ward off the feeling.
Kiht pushed his glasses up and arched a dark brow, savvy enough, apparently, to catch the hyur's hesitation. "Hmmm, odd that you'd..." his gaze slid over the document and his brows rose considerably. “Well now, something you don't see often. High Allagan script? I haven't seen this in ages..."The scholar trailed his fingers over the strange letters. "Hmmmm....interesting. Where did you find this, if I can ask?"
Nathan leaned forward, peering at the page, a memory of tinkling crystal rising and falling away in his thoughts. "The musical notation is no mystery. It's older, but I've played harder. I know it works..." He paused, holding back a further thought. "But, I feel I need to know what's on the rest of the page. Allagan, you say? I've seen bits of that, but I can't read the stuff." He chewed his lip, tying to derive motivation from the slight pain. "It was stuffed in something I bought from a peddler in Uldah. I... played the notes. It's a compelling song, but... you can read it, then?"
Kiht nodded, still tracing his fingers along the script, his eyes shifting over the foreign characters. "Hmmm? Oh yes.... Reshie didn't tell you I studied this at the Academy?"
The bard's shoulders relaxed of their own accord, barely visible, likely, but his nerves could not be convinced of it; he shook his head. "Not specifically, but I haven't many scholarly contacts, and I was taking a gamble that you might at least have a lead to offer. Usually, I wouldn't be quite so concerned about a song, but... this one, I played, and it's left me with a painfully compelling need to know more."
The other canted his head, his gaze on the aged document seeming to fall upon the less legible portions of it. Growling softly, he muttered to himself, eyes suggesting that he was rereading the part before and after. "Dammit... “The word was followed by a snarl, which took Nathan by surprise, which the bard hoped he successfully stifled. “Please tell me you didn't smudge this." The scholar finished.
Nerved frayed by swirling thoughts of possibility and nightmare, the bard was taken aback enough to find his hand held to his chest, in the fashion of both guilty and surprised alike. "Me, sir? No, not I. The words were as they appear when I found it. Its previous owner didn't even know it was there, I don't think, else I'd not have it in my possession. Is... is it bad?" His fingers drummed the table.
"No. I should have expected not, as you are friends with my sister. Reshie and I share a passion for preserving such things.... Oh yes, the text... well let me write out what I can make of it and we'll see what you think? Personally, I find it fascinating."
Kiht rose from the table, and after a few steps, returned with a bottle of ink, a fresh quill and a sheaf of parchment from the workdesk. He was smiling as he sat, and the practiced hands were soon dancing ink upon the fresh page, looking back and forth between paper old and new.
A lump formed in Nathan's belly, and he chewed his lip once more, looking back and forth between the document and the scholar. "Fascinating is a good thing, in this case, I hope?" His bootheel dragged over the floor, leaving a jarring squeak than maybe only the bard himself heard. The squeak was drowned, though, in the click of the room's door opening, and the sound of swishing cloth and two pairs of footsteps.
"Your lady friend has arrived, Nathan."
Ereshkigal stepped through the door, her gait the same collected sway as before; behind her followed a woman of long red hair, Midland stock and wearing the light, flowing robes of a Gridanian healer and conjurer. Eresh motioned to the table, bringing her attention to the robed woman, who walked in with a steady, but perhaps slowed pace. "Go on and have a seat, hun. You three need anything from the bar or kitchen?"
Lottie Forsaidh 's eyes finally lifted from her quietude to fall upon Ereshkigal; she shook her head slowly. "Nay, thank you." She murmured, her voice quieting.
The bard's brow furrowed; he was torn between lurid fascination over the scholar's activity, and the sight of the lovely midlander. "Lottie? Well, I suppose this is not a matter of terrible secrecy..." He looked up to Kiht, eyes widening. "Is it?"
Kiht'li continued to neatly write out the sentences as he translated them, pausing only to look up at Eresh. " Hmmmm? What? Another? One of yours, Nathan?" He inclined his head, still focused on the task. "Apologies, but we'll have introductions later."
Eresh shook her head at her brother, chuckling softly. "Nope, no customers for you." She offered up a cheery smile to the room, and stepped back out into the tavern's bustle.
Nathan steepled his fingers together on the table; hoping that would still them; his nerves were frayed already. What would she think of all this? "Ah, Lottie, you remember Kiht'li, from our last evening here?"
The midlander's reply was subdued, but polite. "I have. I'm happy to see you both again."
Both Hyur turned their heads to watch the scholar work. Outwardly calm, both, Nathan still felt a stirring of sprites in his stomach, and tried to sneak sideward glances at the lady, in a balance of both tight concern and shoulder-relaxing relief to see her.
Kiht's scribing subsided. "Hmmm. Other than the parts I cannot make out due to smudging, this is what your piece says." He slid the paper over to Nathan.
Nathan Telluride grasped at it as if it were a drink at last call after a horrible evening. He wasted no time in scanning over the words, eyes frantically darting over the page, teeth nearly making a meal of his own inner cheek in seeing the results of the scholar's work.
The title was simple enough: “Crystal Fugue.†The original was followed by the song’s musical notation, which Nathan had no trouble understanding, still, but the scholar had transformed the old characters of the final message beneath the music into something more legible:
“My Lord and Emperor:
As your humble servant, it is my role to support your will with all the skills and powers given to me to do so, just as I was able to resurrect you from the void. To promote your ends, I offer you this masterpiece of compositions, the playing of which will strike her at the very foundations of her…â€
The translation noted that a smudge had followed, but continued to the next paragraph.
“With her resistance shattered,†A smudge had followed, again, the notes clarified. “…and the void need have no hold upon your empire. Should the very world oppose you, then this song will unmake the world.â€
Kiht'li raised a finger, to point out the translation's highlights. " 'Crystal Fugue', and here regarding, ‘My Lord and Emperor.' It appears that this piece was intended to do more than simply delight the ears, Master Bard; however, the lines of text that have been smeared render a full translation impossible. I could only guess and speculate regarding them, something I'm loathe to do."
The bard blanched at the mention of crystal, and his knuckles cracked from the pressure he put on the table with suddenly flattened hands. "Emperor? Allagan script, and Emperor... somehow, I feel I should be even more worried than I am, and I'm already feeling a chill." He threw a quick glance at Lottie, trying to force a smile, but even inside, he felt it was unconvincing. The woman herself seemed briefly lost, eyebrows lifting and fixating toward the two males.
Kiht'li Jinjahl looked up at the man and canted his head again, thickly rimmed glasses sliding down his nose. "Hmmmm? Ah you seem apprehensive about this, sir. Surely you don't feel this piece would invoke some lost magick or summon forth a daemon or voidsent to lay waste to us all?" His tone was light and seemingly humor filled.
Lottie broke her silence swiftly. "I pray it wouldn't."
The scholar reached to push his glasses back up on his nose. "Nathan, is there something you’re not telling me about this document?"
Nathan Telluride lifted his chin, but looked not at Kiht, or Lottie, but at the light fixture above them, and continued to stare at the lights for another moment before replying. "The song, in particular. It has me concerned. I played it, and... well, maybe it was an incredible coincidence, but, I don't think so. I think this.... this may be some lost bardic melody, like the ones we play to inspire mages and warriors."
Kiht'li Jinjahl let a single brow arch behind his glasses. "While it is true that your kind have made an art out of fusing the power of both verbal chant and music into an unusual form of spellweaving, I've never heard of those songs being able to inspire more than a handful of people at a time, let alone summon the sort of power this one hints at."
Nathan's breath caught, and he looked towards Lottie, care for her, and worry about her reaction both clawing at his guts. "You're a mage, love. Maybe this may make some sense to you?"
She directed a look at him, and his anxiety made it hard for him to read. "Do you speak of invoking the soul with song fueled by aether?"
Nathan shook his head vigorously - a denial much more emphatic than his usual sort. "No, no souls, not that I know." He peered at the translation, and whispered aloud, "Resistance, shattered... Twelve forfend."
The bard took a long breath, and turned back to the scholar. "Do you happen to know if Eresh lights her room with shards of any kind?"
The scholar remained steady in demeanor “To my knowledge the whole house is illuminated in much the same manner as most, that being crystal shards as flame has proven to be ... unstable."
Nathan glanced up at the light fixture again, peering at it rather too directly. The shapes of the celestial objects danced in his thoughts as the bright yellow light danced in his vision, leading to images of moons, stars, shattering in his mind's eye. It was not certain how long he might have remained thus spellbound, for the room's door opened to admit the proprietress once more, a drink in her hand, tail trailing behind her. Eresh sat at the table, quietly.
Kiht also broke the bard's reverie. "Are you implying that you played this song, and...†He gestured vaguely to the lighting at the ceiling. "The crystals responded?"
Lottie smiled at Eresh as the miqo'te settled herself, but offered no verbal response.
The bard was used to banter. He could deflect questions with practiced ease. Silence, though, was not his best element. He took another labored breath, looked at the translation once more, and then faced Kiht. "Not simply responded. Shattered. I had a fireshard lighting the room the first time I played it. It practically exploded when the song ended, and then, I tested it again, with an Earth shard that I purchased. I got the same result - the song, well, shattered it somehow. I tried to stay away from a large formation of aetheryte, but..." His nose wrinkled. "This translation is word for word?"
Kiht'li managed to look mildly offended. "It is word for word, sir." His sister snickered softly.
Nathan's eyes locked on the translation, and he made an effort to steady his breathing. "Maybe I am over-reacting; the effect caught me by surprise. After all, bards are known for being overdramatic, but... this could be something of real note."
Lottie's eyebrows furrowed, and then her form seemed to jolt to life; she said only a soft "Pardon," before sliding closer to the document.
The scholar sighed and muttered something before returning his gaze to Nathan. "So you claim to have played this, and the crystals shattered? Perhaps it's less to do with magic and more to do with the resonance and tone? At the proper pitch, a chord struck on your harp could shatter glass."
Nathan Telluride sets his hand on the lute case at his hip; it was reflex more than intent. "I could play the melody - it's a haunting thing, but not immediately sinister. I don't want to ruin Eresh's ornate chandelier, though, if this was not some cosmic coincidence. As for glass, well, I first played it at an Inn, and the windows remained perfectly intact."
Ereshkigal arched a brow herself. "Please, leave the inn first. I've heard enough of this conversation to know better than to allow it."
The pointed request seemed to have a calming effect on the bard; several butterflies departed. Eresh always did have a way of defusing problem conversations, something which had endeared her to him in times past. "Which is why I'm not simply demonstrating, my dear."
Eresh flashed him a bright smile. "Thank you for that."
The bard lifted the translation, and looked at it as if it were a dozen malms away. "So. Now, what do I do with a song that plays havoc with aetheric crystals? Gods know what I could do... and what I probably shouldn't."
Eresh tilted her head, her drink apparently yet untouched. "Have you thought about attempting it around the negative aetheric crystals?"
Lottie's voice pierced the room, its absence from the earlier conversation lending force to her words. "Burn it."
The bard's heart skipped a beat, and he turned to her. He paused, quiet, unmoving; inside he felt as if cold water had been splashed with him. "I ought to have some long-winded reply to that, love, but... I'm not sure what to think."
Lottie's voice was mellower, more filled with the lilt of sweeter calm, as she replied. "My heart adores adventure, Nathan, you know this. But years of training beneath the conjurors bid me to pay mind to the possible dangers that arrive."
Kiht was fast to interject. "And the preservationist and historian in me demands that we seal the document and attempt to study it."
The bard felt a tugging within him as if a rope was being pulled through his innards, and he sat up straight, mind reeling, words coming in starts, as the two ideas wrestled with each other. Finally, he looked to Lottie. "That's... that's a concern. I've only played with shards, love, toys... but I have no idea what this thing can do, if I brought it near an Aetheryte... or, gods forbid... a chorus of bards to Mor Dhona... but still, I have no idea what this thing could really accomplish. Could the Allagan truly do what this dramatic scribble suggests?"
Lottie Forsaidh 's sunset gaze wandered to Kiht, likely anticipating his reaction. "There are particular groups of thieves and bandits who may hear whisper of its existence and attempt to steal it." Her lips twisted with confusion. "What happens then?"
The scholar remained adamant. "Then we set the resident mercenaries upon them and beat them off like the craven fools they are."
Lottie, too, was fast on the response. "If it is possible. Even the Lambs of Dalamud existed despite the watchful gaze of the Wailers - thousands died before they were apprehended. “Her finger tapped delicately at the table, "How many days would pass before these bandits would be caught for their crimes? How many people would they encounter, I wonder?"
Kiht's brow revealed his discomfiture. "Do you always find the ones that seem to seek out the most negative and violent endings to your tales, Master Bard?"
Nathan bit his tongue at that; there was no way the Miqo'te could know exactly the stories that he and Lottie had shared, of their past tragedies, and how they drew strength from them, and from each other, choosing life and dreams over dwelling in defeat. He traced his fingers over the notes, slowly, almost reverently. "Imagine, though, what effect could this have in beating back the beast tribes and their primals." He went back to chewing his poor, abused lip.
Ereshkigal looked between the three. "I'm sorry, but am I the only one who wants to see what happens when that is played around the various crystals?"
Lottie's eyebrows lifted. "Negative." Her elbows leaned against the table. "Pray forgive me if I care to not take unnecessary risks to abide personal vices, Mister Kiht'li."
Nathan's head swarmed with stories, stories yet untold, of great battles between wailing primals, assaults on the Garlean enemy, shrieking Ixals standing within the broken shards of shattered aether crystals. "But, still, I concede that she has a point. One bard, with this song, could wreak horrible havoc, if this is what it sounds like. Mor Dhona..." He lifted the brim of his hat, though it seemed to weigh five times as much as it should have.
Lottie looked at him, and it seemed as if a weight was lifted from her; her shoulders seemed to lose their tightness.
Kiht shrugged and laughed softly. "Ah, but it matters not, as it is your document, sir. I'd ask that you leave it behind if you intend to discard or destroy it." He paused at the conjuror's suggestion. "A weapon? Such is the nature of men and certain women: give you a piece of lore and history, and you immediately seek to turn it to use dominating others."
Ereshkigal sighed, her expression a crestfallen one, and she muttered. "No love for the science behind it all."
Nathan set his jaw, feeling the tension fill the room, and let old habits attempt to break it. He looked up at Eresh. "And here, you were asking me to take it outside. I could risk your chandelier on a demonstration."
The hostess blinked at him. "I'm not saying in here!" She shook her head vigorously. "No, I know of a place we used to go where we experimented with blowing things up."
Kiht remained solid in posture, his composure apparently untouched. "Sister mine, I've every bit the curiosity that you have regarding this. However the Bard's mistress seems to believe that naught but ill will come our way. Should he leave the piece here and we find ourselves besieged by thieves, we'll at least have an idea of who sent them. But again my part in this is played out it seems: you've your translation, sir. I bid you all good eve." The scholar strode towards the door, offering a final farewell gesture as he took his leave. Lottie inclined her head to him as he passed.
Nathan cleared some cobwebs from his thoughts, and rubbed his chin. "Eresh, this place you describe. How secure is it?"
The miqo'te paused; her glanced shift side to side, and it was her lip that was chewed upon this time. "Umm, it’s an open desert with nothing around it. So, secure how?"
The bard paused with her, his own insides feeling like a dust devil. No, there was no real choice but to confront the uncertainty, and he addressed the Hyuran conjuror. "This puts dread in you, doesn't it, love?"
Lottie's reply was swift. "Uncertainty. But I do not govern your actions; you're free to do as you wish."
Nathan set his hands still on the table. "Then, I have a thought. Eresh, you know about keeping destructive forces under wraps. Twelve knows you've handled pyromaniac mages for uncounted moons, right?"
Eresh nodded and chuckled softly. "Yes, I do."
Nathan felt a lightness of his own, in his stomach. "Then, let's let a field test decide. No one but the four of us knows of this thing. I'd like to see what it would do to a bigger crystal, in a safe place, but..." He paused. "If it is too much of a risk to the world, we will consider disposing of the document. Is that a fair thought to all?"
Eresh nodded excitedly, turning her attention to Lottie. "Pleeeeease?"
The conjuror smiled, "Yes, we may."
Eresh clapped her hands, wiggling excitedly in her seat. She turns her attention back to Nathan. "So, when do we do this?"
The bard still grappled with the storm in his head. Lottie seemed to have warmed up a bit to it, but he knew her well enough to suspect that further convincing might be needed; the miqo'te's, reaction though, gave him pause; he'd not seen Ereshkigal so excited about anything in a long time. Outwardly, he could only sigh deep enough to leave him gasping for air. "Soon. In the meantime, if it makes everyone feel better, we can leave this document here. I don't know of anyone else I'd trust with it besides you two ladies, and Kiht."
Eresh shrugged. "Up to you. I know a safe place to put, it but I'll leave that up to your discretion."
Nathan licked his lips. "Well, I trust myself, most of all - I simply wanted to show a little caution. I've no issue keeping the thing. Kiht's already translated it." And, I've already memorized the song, he thought to himself.
Lottie gave him a direct look. "I'd feel comfortable if it was in our room. I have been gifted with a flower press; we can rest it between a layer of wax paper. It's least likely to be found even by the passing, curious cleaning lady." Her tone was even; the request seemed reasonable enough.
If Eresh pouted just a little when she leaned forward, he pretended not to notice. "Just be safe with it, Nathan. You're too good to lose. Be extra careful."
He returned a brisk nod. "I think that's a fair compromise. Unless I was heard before, which I don't think I was, no one's actually played this song, or knows its notes, but myself. The seller, as I mentioned, didn't even know it was hidden in the item I bought." He looked at the two pages on the table - the transcription, and the original. So much potential trouble, possible destruction, or power... He slapped his palms on the table, with an air of finality, and reached for them, rolling them into separate scrolls, his hands gentle with years of instrument practice.
Lottie nodded a slow acquiescence, leaning back into her seat. "It relieves me to see that you are taking this so seriously; I pardon for my stance as well. I might seem slightly different."
He felt his shoulders slump. The conjuror had seen plenty of pain and destruction in her life, this he knew. The two of them had spent a number of nights in each other’s arms, mutually relieved to have someone who knew tragedy, understood it, and yet, determined to live onward despite it. If the two Miqo'te were dubious of her hesitation, he could understand it, but twisted bits of memories, of fire and screams and feathered killers, made him sympathetic to Lottie's thoughts, for more reasons than his attraction to her.
"I do hope you'll forgive me not being my usual jovial self, both of you. This has been hanging over me for some time now, and it may still be. But at least I know what it says, though that does not make me feel rather better at all." He looked at the rolled documents in his hand; the feel of the parchment on his calloused fingertips dominated his consciousness for a moment.
Eresh piped up a cheery response. "You're fine. You know I've got your back no matter what."
The bard hesitated but a moment. "Eresh, no one else must not know anything about this. At all."
The miqo'te waved him off. "Pft. With you two being this concerned about it, I wouldn't say anything to anyone."
Nathan turned to Lottie. The whirlwind in his thoughts still spun; perhaps it was time to let it loose, to dissipate. "Love, I know you have danced with, and faced, some magical horrors in your past, and survived them. I know so little of magery, really, and apparently not enough of history. Bard song or not, I am a bit out of my element."
Her demeanor remained even and calm. "Then we'll behave accordingly from then on, and see where it takes us."
He tucked the scrolls into a pouch at his belt, feeling much more grounded, as if his feet had touched the floor for the first time in hours. "I thank both of you, and Eresh, please also give my thanks to your brother, for his time and expertise." He looked to Lottie. "I think I'd rather like to stay in the inn tonight, love, and let sunrise bring some fresh perspective." The smile he offered must certainly have been tainted by the weariness he felt within.
The hostess pushed her chair from the table, and stood. "If you two need anything, let us know. We'll do what we can. I'll return in just a moment with a key."
Lottie offered a smile and a bow of her head, "Thank you for your hospitality." The words followed the hostess as she stepped out of the office, and Nathan watched the door close behind her, before setting a hand softly on Lottie's shoulder. "A white witch is suddenly someone I think I need at the moment."
Anything else he might have said was cut off by the quick return of their hostess, her tail swishing behind her; Eresh stepped over to them, and offered a key to Nathan. "Go get your rest."
The entire evening must have come crashing down upon his thoughts; he looked up at the chandelier, its lights piercing his vision, and he rubbed his forehead as if to massage away the concern, and the pounding it left in his head. What does the fool do when the power of kings and mages falls into his hands? "Thank you, Eresh, for everything. Your inn is quite the place, my dear. I'd hate to have broken the fixtures.
Eresh smirked at him. "I'd appreciate you didn't, but you're both welcome. You know I'm here for whatever you need. Take your woman and head on to the room. No need in keeping her up." She tweaked the smirk into a final, warm smile, and paced from the room, leaving the two Hyur to themselves.
With the miqo'te gone, Lottie beamed up at him, looking more sheepish than she had seemed in many suns. "I fear of snoring the paint off the walls; I’m dreadfully tired tonight.â€
He pushed himself from the table and stood, reaching out to her. She was always lovely, but something in the weariness of the evening, of the subject at hand, seemed to frame her in an ethereal beauty, to him. Perhaps it was relief. Perhaps it was anticipation, or hope, or the promise of rest. Perhaps it was simply the passing of apprehension from his spirit, a weight that had already begun to lift, now that his secret had been shared, and accepted. "Let's enjoy the comfort while we can, and let the sun give us inspirations come the morn."
She took his hand. "...Or perhaps promise that tonight is behind us. Today has been particularly draining on me."
They walked like refugees from the office, and up to the inn's suites. If the Crystal Fugue's notes resonated in his thoughts, he focused on the touch of her fingers upon his palm, and the noise abated.
END OF ACT I
"But in the laugh there was another voice. A clearer laugh, an ironic laugh. A laugh which laughs because it chooses not to weep."
![[Image: 3610850.jpg]](http://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/1266293/pics/original/3610850.jpg)
