Chapter 7: Refuge
The sun’s light shines against my eyes waking me from my comatose. I slept on the ground or wood for three months, so the bed cradles my figure as I enjoy the tender sensation. I stretch my body empty of the aches and creaks of travel. They no longer curse me. The piercing cold that stabbed and slashed at my hands swaps with this comfort that rejuvenates my resolve.
After preparing for the day, I clamber down the stairs with unpracticed and slow steps. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I find Klessilia handing out breakfast in bowls for paying customers. She smiles with graceful ease that created an appearance both approachable and stern. Her hands wear wrinkles and scars from cooking while she snaps at customers with a customary sharpness that evokes the laughter of the men who tease her.
It looks warm and welcoming, so I walk towards her asking, “Good morning enchantress. Would you please grant me a meal?”
Klessilia reddens as she hands over a bowl of soup without retort. The soup triggers my appetite, and I gulp the delicacy down with freakish speed. After finishing, I push the bowl away from the edge of the bar while standing up. As I prepare myself for my trials, I pace towards my destiny outside, but I remember my lack of knowledge of the town, so I turn around asking Klessilia,
“Would you mind imparting knowledge of the city miss?”
“O course dear. The center ah town is the Montave Spring. When yeh walk out, turn left tuh reach thuh spring. From there, you’ll find the town splits tuh eight different streets. You should be able tuh figure out thuh layout from there though."
“Thank you my lady.”
After walking down the streets, I find street vendors selling goods and children running. As I start soaking up the town, a breeze flows against my skin. The air's cold and refreshing, and the smaller buildings comprise of cob with thresh roofs. The taller, more extravagant buildings support themselves with logs and shale by contrast. The rustic atmosphere exacerbates the ruggedness that spawns from how far North the settlement is.
Living here leaves the people rugged and stiff. Every set of hands adorns thick calluses with strong forearms from hard labor. The faces of people stare forward with dry, composed expressions while their skin glows pale with freckles dotting their visage. These people know of hardship and work, and every person appears older than their actual age.
The fact disappoints me. Even though I labor for a goal, no one wishes for loneliness. Hearing another voice of my own age may distract me from my own problems, but without any signs of their presence, I acknowledge their absence as an anomaly. I need to focus on my own goals.
As I reach the Montave Spring, I discover other performers parading their talents. The ice in the air leaves their hands slow and sluggish leaving their play tattered like rag hosting a tug of war between to dogs. These people orchestrate with quiet entitlement. They expect rewards for their sloppy show as though they warrant a medal for playing in wintry weather. No such award exists, and worser still, no such award is deserved.
Deluge rasps, “Dismal.”
I raise a hand as I think, “Exactly. Their mentality will fail them.”
Despite my prodding for conversation, Deluge envelops in silence once more. He's rather soft spoken, though I've no complaints.
As I refocus onto my goal, I tune my mother's harp before preparing a classic tune from my home town of Gredal, “The Giggling Girl.” The catchy and relatable nature of the song makes an excellent attention grabber for most while the message within teaches children who hear.
I begin my performance with an instrumental chorus before I sing in my light tones,
“On a journey of thick wonder,
~~ ~~
she trips herself with a blunder.
~~~ ~
She lays down to frown and pout
~~ ~~
when all her friends start to shout.
~~~ ~
They stay with her through thick and thin,
~~~ ~~~
yet laugh when she skins her shin.
~~~ ~
They giggle with gleeeee
~~ ~~
then the girl laughs carefree.
~~~ ~
Rather than cry and dismay,
~~ ~~
she smiles and saves.
~~~ ~
Good humor with good friends,
~~~ ~~~
leads a good life with good ends.”
~ ~ ~ ~~~
While I may enjoy more poetic and meaningful songs for the majority of my performances, a simple chant relates with people on an instinctual level. The ease of joining in chants along with the nostalgia of known tunes imposes feelings rather than thoughts. Every person understands emotion, so this method presents my best opportunity for connecting with the townsfolk considering my foreign roots.
Deluge snarls after my first song, “You waste your time...”
I state, “My means have a purpose. If I attract the attention of the townspeople, then the nobles will follow.”
He says, “Hmmm, perhaps...”
I attract a group of shoppers who’d been browsing the vending stalls for goods. I chant with them singing the songs of our people. Few things bring people together like a song, so after an hour has passed, I lead the crowd of twelve into the inn I currently reside in.
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Morne eyes me with a grin beaming from his face while raising an eyebrow at me. I return the greedy look with my own grin as he nudges Klessilia pointing at me. After she slaps his shoulder, he belts out laughter as he walks over to our party. He understood my ambition with the instinctual understanding of a business man who smells money in the making. A clever man. He opens his arms saying,
“Greetins. May I offer yeh a drink tuh quench yer thirst?”
One of the party members replies, “O course me friend. I’ll buy thuh first round of drinks fur everyone!”
An explosion of cheers flares from the crowd. As Morne and Kless prepare the drinks, I entertain the group and fellow onlookers with melodies that prove easy to pick up and even easier to enjoy. After several hours of merriment, the sun settles, so I tell tall tales inspiring their own tellings. They speak of legends and heroes ages past as the stars shine their aura upon our merriment in the orange glow of the inn's fireplace.
Many own homes hours away, so they end up staying over night - just as I planned. After these boisterous festivities, Morne walks up saying with the curiosity of someone who knows the answer to a question yet wants the answer from the horse's mouth,
“Oi, how did yeh get so many people over ere then get em tuh stay till they lost their wits and had tah sleep?”
I grin as I brandish my harp saying, “In the same manner I convinced your allowance of my stay. I use my talents,”
He raises an eyebrow saying, “Ats it aye? Well I’ll be keepin a closer eye out fer yuh then. This type of business don't sit well with me. We're usin these people Jack. They can’t afford this anymore then me or you,”
I raise my an eyebrow and hand saying, “We gave these people a day worth remembering. They celebrated with satisfaction all night. I simply gave their previous enjoyment a push here is all, and they aren't children Morne. They chose to come here.”
He scratches his head saying, “Argh, yeh may be right, but it don’t feel right makin a youngin such as yurself twist folk like at. It leaves me with a vile taste in me mouth.”
I wink as I say, “Think of it as a form of assuring my future with this inn”
He shakes his head as he says, “Yur just a child. Yuh ain’t got tuh worry about yur future just yet.”
I frown as I say, "Judging others for their appearances seems rather naive."He smiles gazing down at me saying, "Now look here lad. I done seen a lot more in me days then yuh could imagine. Trust me that yuh ain't had it hard yet."
I scowl as I say, "I believe I've suffered."He laughs at me saying as derision leaks from his words, "HAH, yuh can barely reach a doorknob let alone ah suffered."
I snap, “I have seen the deep black of humanity. My mind is corrupted with calamity and catastrophe. I harbor memories of bane and burden. You need not worry for my innocence, old man.”
Morne blinks dumbfounded at my speech with his jaw gaping like a man unfamiliar with seeing remarkable sights. His jaw remains open until he says with a new, begrudging respect,
“What happened to yuh lad? What could ah caused all that hatred yug got here? I didn’t mean tuh offend yeh. I didn't mean nuthin by it.”
The bitterness I horded since my parent's death had gushed out in my words. Morne meant well, and even though he belittled me, I can't expect everyone to know my plight. After a moment of patient deliberation, I calm myself saying,
“I’m sorry Morne. I meant no harm as well...Many trails have plagued me as of late, so I leaked my hostility against you. I ask for your pardon.”
He places a hand on my shoulder as he say with the wisdom of experience granted only to the old, “It's alright lad. Just don’t let yur demons out on yur friends. Save em for yur enemies.”
I nod my head saying, "I will take your advice, and I thank you for granting it."
He lowers his hand from my shoulder as he says, “I forgot tuh thank yuh. Fer all yur help today, I’ll give yeh ten free meals as compensation. Yuh done right by me Jack.”
He turns around as he says, “Try tuh keep that anger in check though. Few would’ve handled it as well as I did. I need tuh wake up early tomorrow, so good evenin to yuh.”
I nod saying, "I wish a good evening for you as well.”
As I glance at the bar, Klessilia prepares to throw the leftovers of dinner away. In a frenzied dash, I sprint over saying,
"May I please-"With a smile unlike the practiced expression of earlier, she says with a sweet sincerity, "Ah course dear. I seen yuh help us, and we don't leave unpaid debts."
I beam with a joy only the young and naive own as I finish the delicious scraps scarfing down the meal. As I eat, I ponder bouncing my thoughts with youthful energy. My plan will take time for fruition as I need the townsfolk telling stories about me and my performances if I ever want a noble recognizing me in the future. Before I embrace the life of a musician, my reputation must shine with a brilliance akin to the sun's radiance.My lack of proper parentage or paper work leaves me vulnerable, but with my schemes uplifting my allure, I still have a chance for greatness. Morne and Kless's acceptance of me warms my heart, yet their ready compliance unsettles me. Giving me a room for just singing accentuates this feeling, though no other alternative presents itself to me.
Regardless, I need their help for my goals, so as I finish scarfing the food, I say my goodbyes with Kless before walking up the stairs to the attic. After readying myself for sleep, I rest my rejuvenated soul.