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Sorrow giggled when Mike’s voice had cracked. She stared deeply into his eyes and sat there, her mind wandering around the room. She had a smile on her face, the first time she had smiled since the previous night where Contri had attacked her. It seemed all that she was worrying about had melted away. She looked down at her half eaten plate.

“It sounds like a good plan, however we will need different clothes. I think I could sew up a few costumes. I just need some thread and material.”

Mike grumbled to himself. He hated showing weakness, and he had just shown his biggest weakness of all. He now felt hatred in his heart, though this was directed straight at himself. He didn't like to show his weaknesses, and he couldnt be with anyone without knowing who he was and what he was really capable of. He was scared he'd do anything to hurt those he cared about. What was he like in his past? If he could remember he could possibly be like that again. But for the time being, he couldnt.

Then he had a memory. Everything was suddenly pitch black around him, but he could hear everything clear as a bell.

There was beautiful music, sounding similar to a flute, but more clearer and beautiful. It was a wonderful tune, harmonizing nature and all that came from it. Mike's soul began to feel at ease as he heard it. And then, he heard a voice he hadn't remembered in years.

"Alright Honey, now you try it."
"M...Mother?"
"Aw-right!" Suddenly the tone was horrible and painful to the ears. Mike cringed and snapped out of the memory.

Nothing had passed, not time or anything. Mike had instantly relived a memory from his past. His mother was teaching him how to play an instrument most elves specialized in. He couldn't place the name of it, but he could see it so clearly, a small, oval object with a mouth piece sticking oddly out of one side, with a couple of different sized holes drilled into it. He wanted to find one more than anything, to see if he could stir his memory. Without a word or second thought, Mike walked away from the table and out the door. He needed to find a shop that sold instruments as soon as he could. That song he heard could be a key to some of his memories.

Flint nodded at Sorrow's suggestion.
"Good idea. Can't go to the King looking like this." he said, pulling on his baggy white shirt that was slowly losing its colour from the dirt of travelling. Sure, he had cleaned it last night, but it was becoming an off-white colour.
"Come get me when you have any ideas. I'm off as well, I need some fresh air." he said, getting up as well.
He walked out, spotted Mike up the street, and jogged to catch up.
"What's up with you, mate?" he asked casually, walking alongside him. "You look down a little bit."
He stayed quiet, then started up again. "Just tell her, and get it over with. Trust me, this whole adventure would be easier if you just said it." he added quietly.

[Meh, I follow the quality of quantity rule. To me, a post can be one line if its good enough.]
----
Flint simply shrugged. "No offence, but don't play dumb. I've seen your reactions around each other." he started.
"If I said Sorrow was right behind you, chances are you'd turn around. You obviously wont now, but if I hadn't said anything, you would have. And at breakfast...what I said about being her husband for this charade of ours...it was intended as a joke, but your reaction sealed it." he finished.
"Just tell her, mate. If there's one thing I can't stand, is that kind of strange tension in the air you get when two people are playing it a little coy."
He stopped when Mike spoke up about the music store.
"Not to be that little annoying thing that follows you around, but speak of the devil, that was my plan as well." Flint said, shrugging.

Flint paled and stopped walking when when Mike showed his anger. That was completely unexpected, and he was sure he touched the wrong nerve.
And was about to pay for it.
But nothing happened.
Still in a state of minor shock, Flint didn't get a chance to respond to what Mike said. By the time he was able to make up a response, he was already gone.
"T-that was...strange." he stammered to himself, walking after him.
He slowly walked into the store, and stood beside Mike again.
"Sorry if I touched a nerve there..." he said quietly.

"Yeah...I'll try to remember not to bring up that subject again." Flint said casually, picking up his own instrument off the wall.
It was made up of a wooden hoop, with what appeared to be animal skin drawn across the top, and a plain wooden board for a neck, with 4 metal pins at the top and one 3/4 of the way up, attached to each was a string.
"Do..." he started, but stopped when Mike started playing.
"That was incredible!" he said as Mike left. As soon as he left, he turned to the shop keeper.
"Do you have this, but you know, smaller?" he asked casually. The owner shook his head.
"Ah. Can I get five strings, same as the ones on this please?" he asked, hanging up the instrument.
After paying for his purchase, Flint walked out into the street. Next, he visited a small carpenter's shop, where he bought a plain piece of wood not much longer than his arm.
His third stop was a forge near the centre market. There he bought the 5 pins he needed, much smaller than they where before.
Flint's final stop was the market itself, where he bought himself a small gourd. Then, with a large burlap bag filled with probably the most eclectic mix of stuff in the world, he made his way back to the inn. He had work to do.
He hoped the innkeeper wouldn't mind the mess.

[me too...I hope we dont have to split into just three again. That would REALLY blow, mostly because we'd need a new plan, and I'd have to switch some of my RP ideas around...alot...which would be very hard.]