Post by Ed on Sept 6, 2015 22:03:17 GMT 8
Pace Ripley, the Half-Elf Bard
Pace had come a long way since then, and was more than just a bard, after all. Half a century had passed since he'd first heard the Songs.
He was just a child, and he was asleep when he first heard the music. Then the music swelled. It was a wonderful, mysterious melody. He woke, afraid it would fade away along with the rest of the dream, but it remained, coming from outside. He scrambled out of bed, scrambled down and got out of the house.
The autumn dawn was frosty. Pace hurried out, intent on the melody, not caring how cold it was. The landscape seemed very bright, better than real life; this was fun!
He paused before the house, reorienting on the sound. The farm backed onto a forest, and the sound was from the forest.
He ran across the field, scattering chickens, and reached the edge of the wood, panting. He was six years old, and this was a good-sized trek for him to accomplish alone. He wasn't supposed to come here without an adult, and that gave him a bad twinge of unease, but the music was fading, and he knew he had to catch it right away.
The forest loomed tall and dark, so he scouted along the edge, hoping for a way through. The music was becoming quite faint, making him desperate.
He found a path! He ran down it, into the depths of the wood. To his horror, the music was now fading out entirely. He stopped, pricking up his ears, but it was gone.
Except - there was another sound, not the same, but possessed of its own melody. Maybe that would do. It was ahead and, as he continued along the path, it grew louder.
The path dead-ended at the river. Pace had encountered the river before, but not at this spot. Here it was swooshing merrily over rocks, making its music. He strained to hear the tune of it behind the rushing noise of water, and it came clearer, but imperfect. He made his way along its bank, guided more by his ears than his eyes.
*** *** ***
"I heard a song," Pace confessed, knowing that his father would soon get around to inquiring why he was out in the lake. "When I woke up, I just had to find it. And I couldn't. It just went. Then I heard the river, and it was singing, too, only not the same, and the pixies called, and - are you going to tell Mom?"
"Will you promise me not to do it again?"
Again Pace considered. "Dad, I've just got to reach that song!"
"Pace, you just can't reach that song."
"Why?"
"Because it is the Melody of Dawn. It fades out when dawn ends."
"But-"
"It will return tomorrow at dawn. I'll take you out to listen to it. Now will you promise?"
"Okay, Dad."
"Then I won't have to tell your mother. Hmm... You heard the Melody of Dawn. And the Chord of Water. You saw the pixies. Those are signals of our family magic. It is just manifesting now. I was older than you are now when I first heard the music, and older yet when I learned to make it. Give it time."
Those were Pace's earliest memories.
*** *** ***
He'd come a long way since then, and was more than just a bard, after all. Half a century had passed since he'd first heard the Songs. Now, he'd pieced together both the Melody of Dawn's Majestic Word and the Song of Storms. For the Climatic Chord of Water and the Cherub's Song of Wind, he'd found most of their fragments, but, as for the Immortal Crescendo of Victory, well... that was the main reason why he'd come out of retirement for one last dungeon delve...
*** *** ***
Pace had come a long way since then, and was more than just a bard, after all. Half a century had passed since he'd first heard the Songs.
He was just a child, and he was asleep when he first heard the music. Then the music swelled. It was a wonderful, mysterious melody. He woke, afraid it would fade away along with the rest of the dream, but it remained, coming from outside. He scrambled out of bed, scrambled down and got out of the house.
The autumn dawn was frosty. Pace hurried out, intent on the melody, not caring how cold it was. The landscape seemed very bright, better than real life; this was fun!
He paused before the house, reorienting on the sound. The farm backed onto a forest, and the sound was from the forest.
He ran across the field, scattering chickens, and reached the edge of the wood, panting. He was six years old, and this was a good-sized trek for him to accomplish alone. He wasn't supposed to come here without an adult, and that gave him a bad twinge of unease, but the music was fading, and he knew he had to catch it right away.
The forest loomed tall and dark, so he scouted along the edge, hoping for a way through. The music was becoming quite faint, making him desperate.
He found a path! He ran down it, into the depths of the wood. To his horror, the music was now fading out entirely. He stopped, pricking up his ears, but it was gone.
Except - there was another sound, not the same, but possessed of its own melody. Maybe that would do. It was ahead and, as he continued along the path, it grew louder.
The path dead-ended at the river. Pace had encountered the river before, but not at this spot. Here it was swooshing merrily over rocks, making its music. He strained to hear the tune of it behind the rushing noise of water, and it came clearer, but imperfect. He made his way along its bank, guided more by his ears than his eyes.
*** *** ***
"I heard a song," Pace confessed, knowing that his father would soon get around to inquiring why he was out in the lake. "When I woke up, I just had to find it. And I couldn't. It just went. Then I heard the river, and it was singing, too, only not the same, and the pixies called, and - are you going to tell Mom?"
"Will you promise me not to do it again?"
Again Pace considered. "Dad, I've just got to reach that song!"
"Pace, you just can't reach that song."
"Why?"
"Because it is the Melody of Dawn. It fades out when dawn ends."
"But-"
"It will return tomorrow at dawn. I'll take you out to listen to it. Now will you promise?"
"Okay, Dad."
"Then I won't have to tell your mother. Hmm... You heard the Melody of Dawn. And the Chord of Water. You saw the pixies. Those are signals of our family magic. It is just manifesting now. I was older than you are now when I first heard the music, and older yet when I learned to make it. Give it time."
Those were Pace's earliest memories.
*** *** ***
He'd come a long way since then, and was more than just a bard, after all. Half a century had passed since he'd first heard the Songs. Now, he'd pieced together both the Melody of Dawn's Majestic Word and the Song of Storms. For the Climatic Chord of Water and the Cherub's Song of Wind, he'd found most of their fragments, but, as for the Immortal Crescendo of Victory, well... that was the main reason why he'd come out of retirement for one last dungeon delve...
*** *** ***