Twang! crunch!
The sounds echoed through Mossy's head, preventing him from claiming each and every moment of sleep he desperately needed. Mossy ran his hands through his green hair. It had been two days. Two days and the noises still haunted him. Like the realization that Santa Claus is real, but has simply stopped giving away coal. It haunted him like a whole graveyard full of restless Chihuahua’s.
It should have been his best day. His proudest day. Graduation day. The band’s set at his graduation ceremony was just moss-some. His band was going to be legendary. Battle of the Bands was only four months away, and he had nothing to do but practice and prepare.
Twaing! crunch! smash! The sound replayed again in Mossy's head.
Mossy cringed and stumbled out of bed and headed towards the kitchen, woodenly pulling out a coffee cup and filling it from the coffeepot, quietly thankful for delay timers.
Mossy heard the heavy thumps of footsteps before his father wandered into the kitchen, on his way to grab his own cup of joe. “What are you doing up so early?”
Mossy stared mournfully into his cup of coffee. “Nothing dad, I just couldn't sleep.”
“Still thinking about your guitar?”
“Yeah, couldn't you and mom just…?”
“No, Mossy, we talked about this. If you're not going to take care of your own things, we're not just going to replace them for you. You're an adult now; you'll have to figure this one out on your own.”
“Yeah, dad, but I thought…”
“You made an assumption, Mossy. And this time, that assumption has really come to bite you,” his father replied with an air of finality as he sat at the kitchen table that Mossy ignored.
”Yeah, but isn't there anything..?” Mossy started, but he was cut short.
“ No, and I'm tired of talking about this,” said his father as he pointed a knife covered in butter at him before spreading it on his toast.
Mossy tried not to sulk. But what was he going to do? Band practice! Band practice was at noon. Mossy knew the guys could help him figure out what to do then.
###
Dear Mom and Dad,
Things are going well in the city of Fairy Dale. I got off the coach bright and early this morning and have already seen so many sites. It just feels so different having my hooves on cobblestone. The city's walls are lovely and everything seems to be such a bustle and hustle around here.
I have found a guide who says that he will show me around the city for only one gold piece. That will be very helpful because I don't know where anything is. There are so many people here. It's so wonderful to see all the different shapes and sizes of people.
I even saw a Minotaur getting in a fight with a dwarf. It's not like at home where everyone is a Fawn. You really have to watch where you're going. I almost stepped on a gnome earlier. And, my, wouldn't that have been embarrassing? Oh, my guide is telling me that he has arranged for a tour of the Serpent Spiral canal. Doesn't that sound special? Well, I'll send this message along and I will write you again later with more news.
Your beloved daughter,
Tawney
###
Mossy stepped timidly into Chaz's cluttered garage. “Hey.”
“Mossy-man!” Chaz exclaimed, jumping up from his seat on a crate of discarded card tables and slapping him on the back. “Amazing show that night, amazing show! That bit at the end with the guitar... just wow!”
“Yeah,” Mossy replied blandly.
“That was bloody brilliant, that was,” said Jake, Clapping his shoulder with a hand still holding drumsticks. “The crowd went wild for it.”
“They sure did,” Mossy said with what no one would describe as a convincing smile.
“Well, go on,” said Chaz. “Show us the new one.”
###
Dear Mom and Dad,
That canal boat tour was amazing and it only cost me two gold! We saw such fantastical sights like the unicorn bridge, the statue of Nonesuch place, the gallery of invisible things. To be honest those last two kind of smelled. I wanted to go see the famous carnivorous garden at the wizard college, but I was told that you have to be a student or a guest. Would it be worth it to pretend to study magic to see a garden?
There are so many smells in this city. Who knew that so many people living so close together could create such a… well you probably don't want to hear about that. My tour guide says that next up he's going to show me Radacast, the sound mage concert hall; how amazing is that? Haven't even been here a day and they're already taking me to a music show.
Things sure are expensive here in the city. Everything seems to cost a gold or even more, but it's worth it. I'm learning a lot and seeing so many beautiful things.
Tawney
###
“So, let me get this straight,” said Steve, picking at the scales on his stand up bass-shaped-bass. “You don't have one?”
“No, I do have one. It's just broken,” explained Mossy for the fifth time.
“But you don't have one you can play?”
“No. No I do not.”
Steve looked at Chaz. “So, what are we going to do with a guitarist with no guitar?”
Mossy did not like the sound of that question. It seemed like things were going in entirely the wrong direction.
“We can't win Battle of the Bands without a guitarist,” continued Steve. “It's bad enough we don't even have an illusionist.”
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“Hey,” said Chaz. “I can make an illusion.”
“Those fairy lights don't count,” Steve retorted. “And that's not what's important now. What's important now is Mossy here went and wrecked our only guitar.”
“Yes. I'm glad you see it that way,” said Mossy. “Well, I could try and get it fixed. Or, if you guys would help me, maybe we can get a new one? It was a pretty old guitar to begin with.”
"Wasn't it your grandfather's old fiddlehead guitar?” asked Chaz. “That's what you always told us when we asked about the twist on the end.”
“That's right. It was my grandfather's. Been in the family for years, but now I think it's time for a change. It's time for a new look. It's time for us, as a band, to get a new guitar.”
###
Dear Mom and Dad,
The show at Radacast was amazing. There were four musicians on stage, four, Each with a different instrument. It was like one of those traveling bard shows, but it happens every night. And they were all so gorgeous, I think I might be in love. And they did this thing where they made lights dance, using magic all over the stage. And at one point the swirling lights even danced in the audience. I don't know how they make it dance to the tune of the music, but it was the most amazing show I've ever seen!
Tawney
###
“So, they just laughed at me and told me to get out of there,” said Mossy to the gorgeous girl covered in scales across the counter from him. “It's like we haven't been friends all this time. And like the band means nothing to them. They just laughed me out of the garage.”
“Look,” interrupted the barista, “are you going to order a coffee or not? You're holding up the line.”
Mossy looked behind him, then looked back at the curvaceous dark-red serpent woman in an apron in front of him “What do you recommend…” his eyes flicked to her name tag, “Bloodwyn?”
###
Dear Mom and Dad,
My tour guide showed me this amazing place called a coffee shop. The sign was so odd; I don’t know if whoever made it knew how to spell properly or maybe there is something special about a “Magig Mug.” It's just down the street from the concert hall. I had something called a lunar latte. It had coffee, and cream, and moon dust. Get this: on top of the drink, they somehow managed to make an image of a witch riding a broom across the moon. It was beautiful and delicious and sweet. We don't have anything like this back at home.
Well, it's getting on towards evening and I'm not sure where I'm going to be sleeping tonight. But I'm sure my tour guide will have some amazing ideas. I just can't possibly imagine how this day could get any better. This has been truly amazing. And I want to thank you for lending me the money that's helped me get started in the city. I promise I'll pay you back just as soon as I make it big here.
I love you so much,
Tawney
###
“So, it has come to this,” Mossy told himself. “We've truly reached rock bottom. Back to where it all went wrong.” Mossy looked up at the door ahead of him. In large letters read the words ‘Fairy Dale High School’. “Okay, let's hope that Mr. Trebblecliff is here.”
The school felt different when it was empty; the hallways echoed and the floor seemed to squeak. Moonday and Toot Toot, the Fairy janitors, were at work furiously scrubbing away some end-of-the-year graffiti.
“Hi there Mossy!” “How you doing Mossy?”
“Oh, hey guys. Is Mr. Trebblecliff in?”
“He's back in his office, finishing up with grading,” Moonday replied, gesturing with his cleaning wand.
Mossy stood in front of Mr. Trebblecliff's office for a long moment, bracing himself. “This is it,” he told himself. “Mr. Trebblecliff has always known what to do musically… Just knock on the door, that's right. Just knock on the door.”
###
Dear Mom and Dad,
How is housing so expensive here? My tour guide showed me several lodging houses and when he told me the price I nearly fainted. Thankfully, he introduced me to his best friend's mum who has a room for rent and was kind enough to let me stay there.
It's really not much, it's only one gold a week. Which is way better than most of the lodging houses I was told about. Who would even charge a gold piece a day? I could see that for one of the really fancy places, but the one we looked at was no better than The Old Coat, and there the innkeeper only charged one silver a night!
Tawney
###
An hour had gone by and Mossy still stood in front of the door. For the twentieth time he raised his fist to knock, and for the twentieth time he paused. For the eighth time he turned and started to walk away. This time though, something different happened.
Creak.
“Who's out there?” said Mr. Trebblecliff. There was the sound of footsteps and the door opened. The happy round face of Mr. Trebblecliff poked through his long braided beard jingled with dozens of instrument-shaped beads as he talked.
“Oh, you're here,” said Mossy. “I wasn't sure if you're in or not, and I didn't want to disturb you. But I kind of came to talk.”
“So you didn't want to disturb me, but you came to find me?” Mr. Trebblecliff deadpanned, his eyebrows raising.
“Yeah, sort of. I should go.”
“Go? You just got here?”
“I mean, I don't want to,” Mossy looked away nervously.
“ You clearly do want to talk, my boy. Something is bothering you. Come, come have a seat. Tell me what's on your mind.” He took a winding path around a broken musical stand, up a well-used Xylophone, and finally up a small step ladder to his Human-sized desk chair.
“Well, you see Mr. Trebblecliff,” began Mossy as he nervously stroked the tip of his pointed ears, “you remember the show last week?”
“At graduation?”
“Right.”
“Of course, my boy, what an amazing showman you are! You and your friends must have been practicing that for weeks. And that finale, wow!”
“Yeah. The finale” said Mossy grimacing. “That's kind of one of the things I wanted your help with.”
Mr. Trebblecliff sat back in his tall chair stroking his long white beard. “Of course, my boy. Tell me more. How can I guide a creative soul such as yourself?”
“So… so at the end, when I...”
“Oh! The ending” gushed Mr. Trebblecliff. “So spectacular. That guitar. That fiddlehead guitar of yours was a classic, though. So beautiful. Did you have to sacrifice such an elegant piece of craftsmanship to your finale?”
The pit in Mossy’s stomach seemed to grow even deeper with those words. “It was a beautiful piece, wasn't it? You see, it was graduation and I saw my parents had gotten me a rather large gift, and-”
“Oh, did they get you a new guitar?”
“Well, sort of,” Mossy admitted. “They got me a guitar… case.”
“Oh, well. You'll need that if you want to be a traveling musician, carrying your guitar from place to place. Got to keep it safe on those stagecoaches.”
“Of course, Mr. Trebblecliff,” said Mossy. “I will definitely need it if I ever do that.”
“Now, now my boy. What's gotten you looking so glum?” Mr. Trebblecliff asked kindly.
“Can I ask you for a really, really, really big favor?”
###
Dear Mom and Dad,
Who knew that so much tragedy could befall one person. My landlady told me about all of her struggles. It seems her husband was just recently killed in a freak gargoyle accident.
Now she has to put her three daughters and six nephews through culinary school, and apparently the Dragon Tax just went up in the city. I didn't even know that they charged a Dragon Tax. Is there really a dragon living in this city? Well, she needed money and I know you told me to be more careful with how I spend, but after hearing everything I just couldn't not help her.
So… I may only have enough gold for another week or two here in the city, but I'm sure I'll find a way of making it work . After all, it's only a matter of time till… till I find my prince charming and all of my problems will be over.
I've been going back to Radacast for almost every show. Of course, with my finances the way they are I've had to go without my tour guide. Something that he was very frustrated with. I don't think he's going to be my tour guide for long because keeping him around is expensive and I have to keep on paying his way into events as well. For now, I'm going to strike out on my own and see the city. Real adventure awaits!
Tawney
###
“And would you believe it? He said no.”
“That's very disappointing,” said Bloodwyn in a distant voice as she started to untangled her mess of silver medallions from the straps of her apron. “You wanted that slow poured, right?”
“That's right,” said Mossy. “Make it like mud. Mud, so I can wallow away my problems, sink deep in and never show my face again.”
“Aren’t elves supposed to be all proper and hate getting messy? What’s with all the mud talk?”
Mossy was too deep in his feelings to let this attempt at normal conversation phase him “It's been a week and I still haven't figured out how to replace my grandfather's old guitar.”
“Well,” said the barista. “Have you ever thought of getting a job? We are hiring after all. I'm sure a young elf like you would make a great impression on Mr. Beanhammer. If you pull enough hours I'm sure you'll be able to earn enough to replace that guitar in three shakes of a rattle tail.”
“Wait,” said Mossy, “are you suggesting I get a job and earn the money? To replace my guitar?”
“Well,” said the barista, slithering back on her tail to get a little more height. “That's one possibility.”
Mossy crinkled his brows in thought. “Work for it… earn the money.” He stroked the greenish-gray patch of moss on his chin that passed for goatee. “You know,” he paused, “you're saying I should work and earn enough to get a new guitar?”
“Well, yes. I mean, do elves like you not work?”
Mossy looked up, an entirely different color of embarrassment spreading across his face. “Elves like me work. Not all elves work. If I were a high elf or a Wood Elf, then my family would probably have a fortune dating back centuries. If I were a sun elf, people would swoon over themselves just to help me out.”
“You're not a Wood Elf? But you're all green, and-”
Mossy shook his head “No I'm not a Wood Elf. I'm a Sw-”
“Wait,” said a tall, brown haired Fawn, stepping around Mossy to look at the barista. “Did you say you're hiring?”
“Why, yes.” replied Bloodwyn, happy for a distraction from her faux pas. “We're hiring.”
“Get a job and earn the money,” muttered Mossy once again in his own world. “That's brilliant!” He hopped up onto the counter driving one finger into the air.
“I'll take an application, please!” said Mossy and Tawny together.
###
Good news, Mom and Dad!
I figured it out! I figured out what I'm doing to solve my money problems. I'm going to work in a coffee shop!
Tawney