Fate - First Reply Vel Anirian Nights

During a stormy night in Vel Anir as rain pattered down onto the rooftops, the cobblestone, the tops of heads, like an army charging to to their final battle gentle notes would drift through an open plaza in the richer districts of the city. A few homes owned by noble families were in the same quarter, temples to various religions, and it all overlooked those that lived below in both means and status. The soft, amber glow of the homes beyond seeming to clash with the blue-black hue of the horizon lit by the scattered light of stars overhead.

The storm clouds above were scattered things and wherever their billowing, ominous depths did not dwell stars shone like glimmering diamonds in the depths of a pit of tar. Twinkling and shining up above as a harp was played with masterful clarity and proficiency despite the weather, despite the noise that the rain made all around. The downpour was not torrential, at least not yet, and the sounds the rain made upon the ground were just loud enough to make cuddling up with a cup of cocoa before a hearth seem like the best way to spend the night to nearly anyone.

Save one lone figure.

Seated up a parapet's edge and swaying gently in time with the strum of their harp a cyan-clad figure did not at all seem to mind the rain. Their head was tilted back, eyes closed but raised to the stars above, as soft motes of magic would flick from their fingers to the gently-glowing strings of their harp with every plucked syllable. The slight figure would continue their song, continue to play, until they heard someone approach and would turn to glance over their shoulder at whoever should approach. Their eyes glowing a gentle aquamarine under the starlight and the wispy hues of their gently glowing harp.....​

Not seeing anyone at first it wasn't until their visitor spoke, betraying his position not on the street but above, that Ispir's eyes rose to glimpse the shadowed, nigh-invisible figure of a cloaked entity. Stray strands of white hair that may have stuck out from under his thick coverings the only visible feature save for the whites of the speaking man's eyes.

Ispir would freeze for a moment, wondering if perhaps the man was a member of the cult that had attempted his kidnap, but would swallow down his fear softly and speak through the rainfall to his observer.

"To tell the truth Ser I haven't named it yet."

Ispir's harp would lower as their aquamarine eyes glimmered in the starlight, their gaze lowering from looking directly at their unknown audience to look at the ground below.

"But tonight, for some reason, despite the rain and despite my recent troubles I feel...."

A timid, modest shrug would be given before he finished.

"...at peace."

Steeling himself, the thin shoulders of the small Bard arching upward as he took a steadying breathe, he would then exhale a single sentence to address his fears.

"If... if you are a member of some cult o-or here to kill me, I won't fight you, I spread joy and music, not bloodshed."

It felt, and sounded, to Ispir like a flimsy, cowardly excuse. Though it was given with all the mustered courage the little Bard could offer.

Zyndyrr K'yoshin​

Ispir was very confused by how their guest responded. He would tilt his head in abject confusion, trying to think the words through.

'He found no difference with both.... when it comes to spreading death and trading blades?'

Ispir scrunched their button nose. Both of those sounded like fighting to him so... not different? His head hurt thinking about it so he decided to stop as the man stepped closer. Ispir was, for better and worse, a trusting person so they nodded and believed the man's answer.

"Oh! Well I always enjoy company good Ser. Umm I suppose I could play more o-or maybe just talk if you would like some company?"

ispir would venture a small smile and even giggle a bit as he ventured.

"I can imagine you don't make many friends running around on rooftops in the night eh?"

Ispir was too naive to realize this likely meant the person he spoke to was a killer at worst or a thief at best but it didn't matter to him. Every stranger was simply a friend he had not met yet after all!

Zyndyrr K'yoshin​

Pursing his lips at the answer the Drow gave Ispir's expression became one of something close to pity, but not given out of any sense of superiority, but because of what he said in response.

"Forgive me Sir. That sounds a very lonely way to live."

Pausing for just a moment to continue his soft, lilting song Ispir would play the notes more softly now so he could speak over them, and despite whatever the brief flash of clarity under the man's hood allowed him to see Ispir still treated him as a person.

"Have you no family? No hopes beyond.... death?"

He asked softly. Eyes wide and full of sorrow for the man whose life sounded like it revolved around the next quarry to claim. The next life to end. A fact that resulted in Ispir desiring more for the man before him even if he did not desire it for himself.

Zyndyrr K'yoshin​

Ispir would listen to the man's answers with a puzzled expression on his face. Alone but not lonely? Everything else made sense to the small Bard except for that bit. Maybe it said more about him than it did his new companion but, regardless, as the question was turned back on him Ispir smiled. It was a simple, genuine smile and he would pause his playing to motion out over the warm amber glow of the city. After that he didn't speak for a moment, as if expecting the view to provide his answer for him, before he added.

"This rooftop in particular? Nothing really. But all the same Sir I practice where I can and this vantage point had not only a beautiful view but also the perfect acoustics to make my music travel far and wide."

Shrugging jovially Ispir would point down a street that was heavily illuminated, still possessing a scant few pedestrians going about their business despite the rain, and he would continue.

"For all I know my music is helping some poor soul trudging home in the rain feel just a bit better. Though... admittedly I-I suppose if I was offered to play in some sort of amphitheater for an audience that would be more effective."

He nodded and glanced up at the hooded man.

"Your... family... do you see them often?"

Zyndyrr K'yoshin​

Ispir was more than a little stunned at the man's words. Quite frankly they hurt his feelings and Ispir would pout as he mention his father banishing him. In fact not only was he surprised and hurt but he was also in pure disbelief that someone who just earlier had been drawn by his own music would then call him wanting to play it to help others 'arrogant'.

"It's not arrogant!"

He insisted softly, frowning up at the dangerous man without a drop of fear, and crossed his arms.

"I've seen music help people in all sorts of ways! Whether they were drunk and drowning their sorrows in a bottle, or lost and just needed somewhere comforting to stay. O-Or like in Elbion when I helped a scruffy man who was having some sort of.. umm... episode."

Drawing his knees up to his chest Ispir would hug around his legs, pout out over the city lights, and murmur once more.

"It's not arrogant. I've seen it work....."

Zyndyrr K'yoshin​

Ispir would give a rather naive nod as the cloaked man questioned him. The small bard was resolute in their statement, even if it was perceived as childish, and would look up as their companion for the night stepped closer. Ispir's aquamarine eyes glowing in the starlight as Zyndyrr made their heritage known.

Ispir, however, did not seem to care. They did not have any memories that would lead them to believe a Drow to be anymore dangerous than anyone else and so simply gave another nod as Zyndyrr acquiesced. This one more determined as Ispir retorted softly.

"I do."

A pregnant silence hung in the air for a long moment, Ispir's gaze falling to the stone parapet they sat upon, and they would absentmindedly scratch at the stone with a nail for a moment before shrugging and asking.

"So.... your father is a lord of some sort? Does that make you a handsome Drow prince then?"

They tried, and likely failed, to add some levity to the latter question. Less flirting with the term 'handsome' and more playing off the trope in tales of princes and princesses all magically being handsome or beautiful.

Zyndyrr K'yoshin​

Ispir would watch this "Zyndyrr" with wide aquamarine eyes that certainly used to all this talk of noble titles, distinctions between Lords and Queens, or Marquis and Scions. He did, at the very least, understand that Zyndyrr calling his father a bastard was quite the insult and would wince a bit returning a small smile as Zyndyrr stepped closer.

"Me? I'm Ispir! Ispir Sione. Bard, Traveler and Minstrel, at your service."

Ispir bent over at the torso in a sitting attempt at a bow before giggling a bit, having only done so for theatrics.

"Ummm as far as I know I'm not any nobility or special marching lord or Under-Prince."

Ispir's smile would turn to something somewhere between apologetic and awkward as he shrugged his shoulders.

"To be honest Mister K'yoshin I don't really remember anything about my family. I've never met anyone with my last name, no one seems to recognize it, and no one seems to recognize me for that matter. No matter where I go."

Another shrug, this one softer, as his smile faded and his lips pressed together into a pensive line.

Zyndyrr K'yoshin​

Ispir gave a small frown as Zyndyrr spoke. Not out of any sort of hostility toward the Drow but more so out of a sense of empathy on the great pain and hardship that must have sculpted him into the hurt man he now was. Sure Ispir couldn't remember his family, or where he was from, but in this moment he somewhat agreed with Zyndyrr that compared to his own upbringing having an unknown blank slate in place of a horrible relationship as preferable. Zero was still more positive than a negative number after all, right?

Pausing for just a moment, hand twitching into motion for only a heartbeat, Ispir would then slowly extend a hand toward Zyndyrr's own and, if allowed, would gently grip Zyndyrr's hand, hold it gently through the Drow's glove, aquamarine eyes glowing in the starlight as rain made Ispir's pale face and forehead shimmer, and his smile seemed to have a radiance of his own.

"Well, bad dads or gods aside...."

That small, slim hand, even through the gloves the Drow may have worn, were obviously not those of a warrior. Dexterous, slender, soft even...... no. The Minstrel before Zyndyrr was near to an opposite of himself even as he voiced his empathy.

"......I for one am glad to meet you Zyndyrr. You seem to have a lot on your mind b-but well.... I just get the feeling from you that you're a better man than your father realizes. Even though we just met!"

That smile would widen into something truly beaming, heartfelt and innocent.... perhaps naively so as Ispir added.

"That's how obvious it is, I think!"

A soft giggle punctuated those simple, heartfelt words.

Zyndyrr K'yoshin​