Many things had happened to the young ice tribe man since he had left home. First he had lied to his family and ran away to live his life the way he had wanted to, not wanting to follow in his fathers footsteps. Lying and literally running away from home on the premise he was training to become a warrior. They had traveled long and far, he was apart of a troupe, consisting of himself, his sister, Eira her brother Makani and Gyuri their body guard. And now a new addition having joined them just recently Eira's little boy.
It was wonderful to have everyone nearby, Gyuri was strong and silent but he always made Borra feel safe. It was fun to see his sister blossom into a fine young woman, (even if she was the older sibling) and was going as far to actually show interest in people and even fall in love. Eira had brought them all together and built this inn where they all lived now.
Life should of been wonderful, at the inn he could perform every night for the patrons if he wanted to. The wars were over, a reign of peace was surrounding them, so why did he have this niggling sense of guilt in the back of his mind? Right... everything always led back to his father in order to escape a life of hunting and tracking that he didn't want to be involved in, he had run away.
He was not as far away as he would of liked, but he was certainly far enough. It wasn't that he hated his father...or resented him he was just avoiding the guilt he would have to face when he came to see his dad again. The wind was picking up, at the moment he was outside plucking at his lute, as a sour note would lift into the air he would pause and adjust his strings before he resumed strumming. He was watching idly as another troupe appeared to be moving into the town and though it had been made clear that the inn was off area's Borra found himself drawn to watch them. His curiosity always got the better of him as he began to trail after the moving caravan.
There was always something interesting about seeing others perform. If they were from foreign lands, places he had never been, they tended to dress exotically and play music with instruments he wasn't familiar with. It was the musicians who typically caught his interest,not to say he didn't enjoy watching them dance, or perform plays. Music was his life. The troupe stopped in the middle of town, several blocks away from Eira's inn he noted before moving to lean against a small tree. The troupe wasn't very large, but it didn't look like they needed to be, he watched quietly as the performers went about setting up for their show. Given that they were not wasting any expense on an extravagant display it didn't seem like the would be staying in town for long. Bored fingers resumed their plucking of strings while he watched them move about.
Borra wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed, but a small crowd had began to murmur as their own curiosity rose with each passing moment. There was movement on the make shift stage, pausing in his own plucking he listened as a particular soloist took the stage and lifted her instrument up. Revealing that she would be playing on a fiddle. Closing his eyes the young man could almost envision the struggles unfolding in song. Pictures blossomed into his mind and though there were no words the soloist was painting a picture with her notes. He pondered if the song was an original or perhaps one that was handed down from the past.
Borra listened for a long time pondering his questions silently while the woman was completely enveloped in her work as was the crowd as well him. When the last note faded and clapping entered the air in its stead Borra opened his eyes to find the woman looking at him with a smile on her face. Perhaps she had noticed the lute he was carrying in his hands or had noted that a rival member of a troupe was watching them. Whatever her motives, she pointed at him and then to his lute and gestured for him to come up and join her.
Like a child being caught in the act, his cheeks colored and eyes wide the minstrel shook his head to politely decline the invitation. There was no way he was good enough to join this new troupe that consisted of one vocal and numerous musicians. Before he could move to avoid being targeted any further his choice was made for him as the musician stepped off the stage lightly and approached.
"Come, Ive seen you watch us for awhile now. You play?" She inquired her gaze moving to glance at his callused finger tips and he shakily nodded his head in response. Flustered at being approached by the woman just as much as any troupe member.
"Ah yes...but I am not nearly as good as your troupe...I..I would just..I don't even know the song.." He protested trying to find a way out of getting up on that stage. Once again his protest was ignored as she gripped his arm and began pulling him towards the stage. Not only was he nervous about being up there, he knew that Eira was going to be angry at him for joining a strange troupe to help them make money.
"Don't worry..I am sure you can pick up the tune easy enough," She explained as she nodded her head towards their vocalist as well the other muscisions came to join them on stage. Though a few of the troupe members gave Borra a warm smile, other gave a chuckle as if this wasn't unusual for them to be playing with a novice. A tap of the foot to set the timing and then the instruments began to play, as if getting the tempo down before the singer joined her voice with their notes.
A chill went down his spine as he listened, he had heard many singers but somehow this group only managed to amplify her voice. Jumping slightly as the other vocals backed her up softly he realized it was the other members of the troupes joining their voice with their lead singer. He always had assumed that if you played an instrument you were to remain silent and that your voice was that of your instrument.
A nudge in his ribs reminded him where he was, the fiddler was trying to encourage him to join in. The rest of the troupe didn't seem to care if he joined or not, but she seemed intent on getting him to perform. Closing his eyes he listened for the beat. Fingers poised upon his struts he he found himself joining in slowly. Adding a few notes here and there to enhance what was already amazing by his ears. The fact no one was telling him to stop, but rather encouraging him to continue caused him to softly smile .
Without him realizing it the other players dropped out of the tune one by one. Soon it was just him playing and the vocalist was listening keenly to the song he had created on the spot. Borra opened his eyes when he clued in that he was playing alone. Blinking he was about to stop when the fiddler shook her head and gestured for him to continue. Swallowing he was plucking a slow song, it seemed like it was light and yet there was a lingering sorrow in the notes being played.
The vocalist seeming to pick up on his melody joined her voice with his melody. It was a song that seemed of regret and sadness, she sang of nothing in particular in fact words weren't really even being sung, she was just joining in his song without altering his intent. Slowly the other players joined in with his song. The crowd was getting larger around them and normally this would make Borra nervous and self concious, but he was lost in his own song. As if trying to express the sadness in his heart, the betrayal to his father for his own selfish desires. How he wished he could be brave and go face his father for the things he had done, the lies he had told.
As if they sensed that the song was coming to an end the other instruments one by one dropped out of the song, soon it was only him and the singer her voice complimented his song only to end quietly and leaving him alone with his melody. Even he felt that if he continued the song any longer his hands would begin to shake too badly to hold the notes properly. As Borra brought the song to a close, he blinked realizing that his vision was blurry. Tears had snuck upon him without him realizing it.
There was no applause, perhaps the crowd realized it wasn't proper to be clapping for such a sorrowful song. Turning away his face flushing he quickly stepped off the stage feeling very vulnerable. The rest of the troupe as if sensing that the mood was going linger and sour the crowd unless they did something began a more upbeat song. They had a large crowd now may as well make the most of it.
Borra quickly fled, the only person who pursued him was the fiddler. Borra hadn't gotten far when she rounded a corner and discovered him. He as in fact leaning against a building. Lute in his hands as he inspected it, his fingers ran over the old wood, the faded paint. It had been his fathers lute, and he still didn't understand why he had discarded such a marvelous gift.
"You left too soon.." Griisea spoke quietly, startling the young man as he went to wipe his eyes in surprise.
"Ah...well..I would just mess things up for you...and your troupe. They are very gifted." Borra spoke, thankful that his voice didn't catch in his throat. In all honestly he had felt at home there, with the singers and the other players. But he didn't want to leave the troupe he was in, it would mean more goodbyes he wasn't ready to say.
"Nah, I think you are too hard on yourself. Your inexperienced anyone can see that, but your music comes from your heart and even the most experienced musicians can't tap into that sort of raw talent." Griisea spoke as she came up to lean against the building joining Borra. She glanced over at his lute before she raised her own fiddle.
"Its funny, how two instruments although similar in build can produce such different music. I'd say that lute really suits you," Griisae spoke as she tried not to stare at it to long before returning her gaze forward. "It looks like a old, perhaps a family heirloom?" She inquired inquired causing Borra to flinch. Chewing on her bottom lip she sensed she had touched on a sore subject. Hesitating she went to rest a hand on his arm making him look at her like a startled animal.
"You don't have to answer...I ...the song you sang sounded like you have a lot on your chest. Did you want to talk?"
Borra looked to her her hand and then to her face, he felt embarrassed and uncomfortable at her touch. Her had slipped off of him as if she could sense his discomfort and she plucked at her fiddle slowly. Notes leaping into the air slowly, he had never seen someone with a fiddle pluck like that before, it made the similarities between the instruments even more so.
Borra leaned against the wall, raising his head to look up and into the sky above. Although the large tree's blocked a large amount of light it still allowed the sun to dapple through the large leaves.This place was so unlike Zena and he wondered is Baroke was doing well back at the inn. The raoti had become a very popular pet at the inn for all the children who had frequented there and had become a sort of mascot for the troupe.
"I...am quite far from my homeland, this forest is very different from Zena and I am grateful for my experiences here..." the minstrel spoke quietly giving a small chuckle as he plucked notes to accompany Griisae's own. A small little tune blooming into life between them, as if Borra was trying to distract from the conversation at hand.
"Hmmm we are quite far from our homeland as well, but I agree seeing all the different cultures has been quite rejuvenating." Griisae spoke as she sped up her plucking as if initiating a challenge for Borra to keep up. Silently accepting he joined in plucking notes until his fingers began to get sore but unwilling to lose. Luckily Griisae had to stop, to use to using the wand to play her fingers weren't as tough as Borra's.
"I miss my home...I cannot say I miss my friends for I am with them here, but seeing the white snow playing with the village children..I wish I could go back to it." Borra explained with a sigh as he stopped and stretched his fingers before lowering his instrument.
"Then go back. I am sure your troupe will understand you wanting to go visit your home." Griisae stated as she too lowered her instrument. They stood in silence beside each other for a quiet moment.
"I...I can't...I lied to my father about why I was leaving. He didn't approve of me becoming a minstrel...even though this was his lute.." Borra explained looking down at the instrument and rubbing a thumb over the polished wood. It had been in disrepair when he had originally found it in their storage but with some money and a lot of care it had been restored to its former glory.
"So? Go show him how good you've become. Any parent will respect their children's choice if they are happy ...you are happy about playing aren't you?" Griisae inquired looking back the way she had came the the sound of her own troupe seemed to be going quiet and it looked as if they were finished up soon.
"Yes...it...makes me very happy." He responded noting the music in the background had died away as well. A small stream of people had begun to trickle away meaning the show was likely over. Pushing away from the wall Griisae gave a stretch before turning to face him.
"If you are happy then you should stand by your choice. If you feel bad for lying you should go tell him the truth. Else..all your songs will bare a heaviness strung with regret." She explained before nodding her head, "If ou like why not travel with us? We will likely travel back in Zena's direction once we have finished in Jahaur." The offer hung in the air as Borra stared at her a moment. Leave? And go with them? It would be quite the experience, but he didn't want to leave his friends and family either..
"Ah..the offer is very generous but I cannot leave my current troupe. But...thank you." Borra smiled softly giving Griisae a small grimace.
"If you do not lighten the burden on your mind you will never progress forward in your music. A bit of advice in exchange for helping us make some money. Good luck to you then." Griisae stated with a nod of her head before turning back and heading towards her troupe members. The man watched as she left him, alone with his thoughts before he glance down at his instrument.
She had a point, he felt like he was stuck in a rut unable to progress anywhere with his music. Although he played well enough to entertain the patrons currently he wanted to get better and..what she said rung true. He was so caught up in his guilt that unless he faced his fears there was no way he could get any better. But this meant that he would have to go back to Zena and face his father.
Going alone felt daunting, would his sister go with him? The thought of asking her felt wrong, if only because she was just starting to go somewhere in her love life asking her to come be his chaperone felt inappropriate. But being the little brother he would of felt better to have some one with him. Should he ask Gyuri? The thought cross his mind for a moment, it would be fun to go traveling with the body guard but since he was somewhat involved in the lie to begin with he would feel bad asking him to come back to Zena to face his father.
Sighing Borra pushed himself away from the wall and then wandered back towards the inn. His thoughts heavily weighing on his mind as he strolled back to what was now his home. Upon entering the inn Baroke getting a bit pudgy from all the indulgence of patrons looked up at him lazily before settling back down. The barkeep waved Borra over and gave him a rolled up scroll explaining it had just arrived for him. Curious the minstrel wondered just who would be sending him a message? Who even knew he was here?
Moving upstairs he fiddeled with the wax seal before opening the door to his quarters, slipping inside he carefully sat his loot down on the bed allowing him both hands to unfurl the message. His gaze scrolled through the script quickly, his face going pale as the words dawned on him.
His parents...were coming to 'see' how he and his sister were doing. Things...suddenly got very real and panic began to rise in his chest. They were coming to see them, some how they had found out that he was here. How he wasn't sure but no doubtfully they had found some way. It would only be later that he discovered that his sister had been conversing with their mother ever since they had settled in Jahaur.
Finished: Word count 3126 words - counts as 3 solos
Reply
