Private Tales Comfort 'Neath the Moon

[Ispir Sione]

Spoiler: The Hole in the Wall

The Hole in the Wall was, well, a hole in the wall of a very special variety for Elbion. Foremost was the fact that the majority of the above-ground structure was nothing but a façade to make it more obvious the place was a tavern in the first place. While patrons were allowed to drink and converse on the ground floor and above this was the secondary section of the somewhat famous tavern. What really made The Hole in the Wall stand out was how popular it was with those more artistically inclined from Elbion College, for loaners, bookworms seeking peace and quiet, and most folks who just simply didn't quite fit in. This was due to the fact that the true tavern was actually below ground, with a much darker, more intimate atmosphere. They also allowed smoking inside so, hey, that's a plus.

'Neath the bright moon the world was cast in a shade of silver-grey from the moon's near-full splendor tonight. So bright was the moon tonight that someone with good eyesight or used to the moonlight would be able to navigate even without the light of the various lanterns lining the street. Whether Kilien had ever been to this particular tavern before, or if some other business had brought him here this particular night, as he made his way down the secured staircase to the true tavern he would hear a voice mid-speech that was seemingly calling to the gathered patrons.

"-.....my next song will be much slower so I hope you all enjoy~!"

As Kilien finally pushed through the deep purple curtain at the end of the stairs into the tavern itself a gentle song would begin to fill the Hole in the Wall along with a unique sight. This small, tucked-away tavern where everyone was usually holed up in their booths to their own business had somehow a much mellower atmosphere than even the subtle clink of drinking and occasional conversation from a group who thought they were being more quiet than they truly were. But not tonight it seemed. While not everyone had been pulled from their booths by the music being performed by the small woman on stage most were on their feet, gently swaying and dancing with partners either of existing relationships or those formed in the moment. Even the bartender, a middle-aged dwarf with a series of tattoos that sleeved his arms and even went part-way up his neck, was gently dancing with his wife behind the bar. Her face was red and she would lightly, playfully smack his chest as he whispered something to her.

Spoiler: Small woman

But as Kilien came into his line of sight the bartender would kiss his wife's hand and move to the bar as the song finished and the bard woman would bow to the crowd, speaking in a much different voice than they sung with. A more masculine voice but still rather androgynous.

"Thank you all so so much for letting me play here. I hope you've all had a wonderful time.~"

A light round of applause was given, coins deposited in a very simple, humble wooden bowl at the edge of the stage, as the bard began to gather up their enchanted instruments and stow them away. More than a few of the people there now not only sat down with their new people but those that were obviously already in relationships snuggled up in the boots even closer than before.

Kilien Basmarc​

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

It was the tune that brought him here, arriving upon ears far more attuned to listening than any set attached to a normal human. Beneath the waxing moon there was no comfort to be found. He who spent nearly every full moon locked away deep beneath the ground was now exposed to the world at what was soon to be his most dangerous and most vulnerable lunar state.

With naught but a sliver of shadow left to the silver medallion in the ink above, Kilien could sense the world around him with such precision it nearly drove him to madness. Every scent, every movement, every heartbeat of every living thing. His eyes, typically hazel in his more gentled state, had drawn into feverish lamps that flashed in the dark. He'd taken leave from Vittoria Larrainth's side for a walk to find some semblance of peace and along the way the lilting tune cut through the din.

They often say that music could soothe a savage beast and until now Kilien wasn't sure he'd ever found that to be so true. Something about the dulcet tones of the Bard called to him, spoke to his racing heart, calmed the encroaching boil of his blood. The closer he got, the greater the relief until he found himself near stumbling through the green curtain and into a wash of soothing sounds.

Kilien breathed a deep sigh of relief as he made his way past tables and patrons alike to the stage where the last few notes dwindled out.

"W-wait," he murmured as the crowd clapped and began to disperse.

The absence of the song felt like someone sucking the air from his lungs to let the anxiety fill them back up again, "One more song," when he made it to the stage his knees buckled as he felt his heart began to race again. A hand gripped the stage edge to keep him from spilling entirely with the other latched onto his chest, "please. Just one more."

 

[Ispir Sione]

As Kilien made his way into The Hole in the Wall and staggered to the stage Ispir would give a small jump, somewhat surprised at his demeanor. The gathered crowd also seemed to pause, initially thinking Kilien may have been rushing the stage for ill purposes, but upon seeing the man gasping and pleading for another song Ispir would blink rapidly. Even blushing a tiny bit as the young woman.... man... averted their eyes and coughed into their hand. Giving a slightly nervous chuckle as they set their instruments back down and nodded.

"O-Oh. Very well Sir. I suppose I have one more song to share."

Ispir would set out all his instruments, from strings to winds to drums and even some chimes. Once that was all done he would purposely take up the violin and take a breathe. He would then sit on the edge of the stage right by Kilien and give him a smile. Nodding his head a bit as he met the man's eyes. Shining, kind aquamarine meeting the feverish hazel lamps of the other man. Calm, oceanic hues unafraid of the disquiet there as Ispir placed the bow on the violin and spoke.

"If you have someone who holds your heart Sir, kindly keep them in your thoughts for this song for the greatest thing I can give is to remind others of love."

A truly unique sound would come from the violin as Ispir drew the bow, like the solemn mating cry of some unknown creature would those undulating initial notes drift through the air and Ispir would close their eyes as they played. Only when their singing reached specific lyrics would they open their eyes, scan the crowd, and their eyes would once again meet Kilien's. A soft, rosy hue to the bard's cheeks as they sang this part of the song, seemingly, for Kilien and Kilien alone. But why even Ispir themselves did not consciously know.

"......underneath the stars, a wild world sharpens it's claws."

Ispir's gaze swept now over the crowd, leaving Kilien for a brief moment as they continued.

"As the Nightfire burns the Shadows fade."

But then those aquamarine eyes would return to Kilien, the music coming to a vacuous halt as Ispir softly sung the next few words, once again, just for him. Every word slightly stressed, enunciated clearly and sincerely, spoken as if to that fever pitch within the windows to Kilien's soul.

".... and at the blush of dawn we'll be okay."

A heartbeat of a pause before Ispir closed their eyes, tilted their head back, and continued their song. His eyes would not open again until it ended. The notes once again drifting solemnly into memory before Ispir slowly blinked their eyes open, smiled, and looked down to Kilien to see if the song had satiated the man's desire without a word.

Kilien Basmarc​

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

A reminder of love.

Such words that could make so easy a connection to the wayward Initiate. Love was one of those simple truths of life and for him he could think of no other than Vittoria Larrainth. Certainly he'd met plenty of fine young women over the course of the last several years, but somehow the scariest girl of her year had managed to sink her proverbial claws into him.

It must have been the moment she stabbed him with that knife.

A strangled half-sigh-half-chuckle seeped out of his throat, his grip of the stage loosening once the tune began to play. He didn't watch the bard once his gaze shifted away, but allowed the melody to soothe the boil of his blood and the fire of his bones. Finally catching his breath, Kilien slumped against the front of the stage and allowed himself to crumple to the floor there, turning his back to rest against the wooden slats.

The anxiety dissipated, he could feel the tightness of his chest loosen and the weight of his worry lift. He focused on Vi and the way she always met him with a smile or that little laugh she allowed herself to give when it was just the two of them. There was nothing perfect about their match, but that was sort of the appeal wasn't it? She was so far out of his league and he had no dreams of greatness or even of staying in Vel Anir once this charade as an Initiate came to an end.

It helped him cherish the time they spent together all the more with the burden of its impending end sitting at the back of his mind.

"Th-thank you," Kilien breathed to the minstrel, wincing at the return of the lunar pangs, "that was real nice of you."

 

[Ispir Sione]

As the second round of applause dimmed and Ispir gathered up his instruments he would hop gently off the stage and adjust his clothes before smiling down at Kilien as the scruffy man thanked him. Giving a shake of his head he would giggle softly.

"No thanks necessary Ser. Sharing the gift of music with those willing to hear it is what I live for."

Ispir would copy Kilien's mannerisms to sit beside him, back to the wood of the stage, only to blink as the bartender's wife brought them two mugs of warm apple cider, the soft scent of cinnamon sprinkles in the drink reaching them both and Ispir would accept the very large mug in both hands. Nodding and voicing a thank you as the second mug was offered to Kilien, the cheerful dwarvish woman commenting to him.

"Aye ya seem like ye've 'ad a long night lad. Rest all ye need."

Dusting her hands on her apron she would return to the bar as Ispir took a sip of cider and sighed. Giving a sidelong glance at Kilien that was both kind and slightly worried.

"So what brings you here tonight good Ser? Even I rarely meet such enthusiastic fans of my craft."

Kilien Basmarc​

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Kilien closed his eyes against the turmoil within, attempting with every means he knew to hush the disquiet. It distracted him so, another could have walked straight up to him and put a blade through his heart.

Luckily it was just the barmaid putting a mug of cider in his hands.

His eyes fluttered, still sitting somewhere between the shade of moon frenzy and disturbed forest, and blinked down at the drink. A grunt was offered in response as he quickly tried to catch up with the words spoken to him, now garbled in the ether of disconnection. Something something intent...

"I ... heard your music while I was out for a walk."

"I, uh..." Kilien drummed his fingers along the mug, not feeling particularly keen on drinking, his eyes searched about for words, "been dealing with something recently that's got me real worried. Haven't been myself. Haven't... been able to think straight for a few nights now, but the music helped."

 

[Ispir Sione]

In contrast to the distracted scruffy moon moon next to him Ispir drank heartily from the mug of cider and gave a big sigh. A slight moustache coloring his upper lip as he tilted his head and gave a hum at Kilien's words. His brow furrowing in worry even as he subconsciously copied Kilien's motions of drumming his fingers along the mug he currently had cradled in both hands. Ispir would then turn his gaze down, staring at his murky reflection in the cider before venturing.

"Not able to think straight...."

He mused for a brief moment before raising his eyes to Kilien and asking.

"What troubles you good Ser? N-Not meaning to pry of course but if it's nothing too personal, or even if it is, I can lend an ear. Family. Finances. Romances."

Ispir shrugged and ventured a smile before looking up and squinting in thought.

"Umm.... fancy dances? Yeah that rhymes well enough."

A soft, reassuring giggle, a friendly smile, and Ispir waited for Kilien's reply.

Kilien Basmarc​

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

And this... this was why he tried so hard not to let his personal issues out in public. Aside from the obvious, it was definitely best if no one knew what he was. His kind--well, Kilien couldn't really say that he had a kind for what ailed him--those with his particular case of troubles were usually not welcome by anyone.

The only person beyond those that kept his secret for him for their own machinations that knew of his plight was far, far away.

Surely it would have been nice to have Zinnia here for company right now. She would know to a far greater degree than anyone else just what he was going through.

"I can't talk about," Kilien said after a long pause of silence and a wayward glance at the bard, "sorry."

But maybe just talking in general would help in the absence of music?

"Go fish," he added with a small but trying smile, hoping the musician would get the reference and perhaps ask a different question.

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would wince a bit even as Kilien apologized, hoping he didn't upset the man, and nervously adjusted his cap with one hand while taking a sip of cider with the other. Taking the offer to 'go fish' and the small attempt at a smile as confirmation that Kilien wasn't truly bothered by his question Ispir would move the mug down and return his eyes sheepishly to the scruffy man before him.

"Ummm.... okay I'll have to think...."

He reassured Kilien gently before giving an enthusiastic nod and smiling.

"Mmm! Do you have any pets and, if not, what kind of pet would you have if you could pick anything!? "

Ispir would wiggle in place, adjusting his posture as the hard floor was making his butt go numb. But he didn't truly mind if it meant continuing his conversation with his new friend.

Kilien Basmarc​

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

That was certainly not a question he'd been expecting.

Pets. What a novel idea. One he'd never entertained before given the restrictions of the life he'd lead for the last several years. Living behind bars did not an idea situation for owning a pet make. Unless you counted the rats ... though he'd not bring that up. Most of the rats had become a meal.

Waste not, want not.

"My people usually keep dogs and cats. Horses. But if I could choose anything..."

Fingers drummed along the tankard, the many rings adorning them clink-clink-clinking as he did.

"I really like owls. They just always seem so calm." No matter what the night brought. "What about you?"

Ispir Sione

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would nod along politely as Kilien Basmarc answered his question. Not that Ispir was just humoring him, the Bard was genuinely interested, and he would smile at the answer of owls. Chirping at first in response to Kilien's question.

"Yeah! I hear they're also really wise too. Umm...."

Setting his mug down Ispir would stand up after some effort and wince, shifting from foot to foot before holding up a finger.

"One second...."

Scampering over to a table Ispir would pull a chair over and plop into it before bending down to grab his mug and sighing.

"Ah. Sorry my butt was going numb from the floor."

He giggled softly before humming and taking a sip in thought.

"I'm not sure honestly. I travel a lot so it would have to be something with a lot of stamina. So a horse, dog or wolf I think? Though i guess any type of bird that could ride on my shoulder and fly around would be good too. Oh! Or a dragon! Though, I guess they're kinda smart most of the time so calling them a pet doesn't feel right...."

He shrugged before smiling.

"Now you go fish.... and no you asking me the same question back doesn't count!"

Ispir would wink and stick a tongue out playfully.​

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

For a brief moment there was doubt. It was a hard habit to doff when one's life could be summed up in the simple act of people walking away from him after exchanging only a few words. Sometimes that's all it took in Vel Anir... sometimes it didn't even take that much. In that moment he wasn't sure what stung more; the fact that it was a complete stranger in a foreign city, or that the only source of comfort for the evening was potentially leaving his company.

Never in his life had he been so pleased to hear about someone's arse going numb.

Kilien chuffed and decided to finally take a swig from his mug to wash down the growing lump of anxiety in his throat.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice cracking slightly over the swallow, "not sure I'd take my chances with a dragon."

And then it was his turn to ask a question. Kilien raised his brows at the bard, briefly chastised for daring to ask the same back of another, and gently cleared his throat.

"Sure... alright, uh-" tired hazel eyes surveyed the musician in mild consideration, one hand lifting to itch at the scruff along his jaw, "ya ever had to sing to save your life?"

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would nod emphatically at Kilien's worry about dragons. Leaning forward dramatically in his chair as he agreed.

"Mhmm! They can be really scary!"

Tapping his chin in thought Ispir would look upwards as if recalling a memory.

"Though I do remember a ballad about a knight going to save a princess from a dragon, only for it to be revealed that the princess WAS the dragon but just shapeshifted."

Taking a drink Ispir would sigh.

"Can you imagine?"

At Kilien's question Ispir would blink and scratch his head, nudging his cap around atop his noggin as he stuck his tongue out in thought.

"I ummm.... not that I can remember! I'm sure I have at some point but...."

He shrugged before smiling at Kilien.

"Okay! Here's one! If you had one favor to ask of a Fae King what would you ask for?"

Ispir was thoroughly enjoying himself making a new friend, listening to the low hum of chatter in the tavern, and idly swung his legs as he gave Kilien an expectant look.

Kilien Basmarc​

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Strangely enough, the tale of a princess being the dragon felt rather close to home. His own princess being what she was...

"Yeah..." he mewled back as he briefly recalled moments of Vittoria's magic tearing their enemies apart, "I kinda can."

As for the return question, the young man's brows rose in mild alarm.

"Nothing," Kilien shook his head, clearly concerned for such a fantasy, "never. Not ever. I don't bandy with fae."

Not even to wish away his curse. He could not even begin to fathom what cost they would enact for such a thing. No, he'd much rather live with something he had a modicum of control over than risk living with something far, far worse.

"If you're smart, you won't either."

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir paused mid-drink at Kilien's serious response and lowered his mug, tilting his head, and hummed softly. He would give a nod as Kilien warned him against making contact with Fae as well and cradled his mug in both hands now. Looking down into the liquid, then at Kilien, with obvious concern.

"Wow they must be really scary if they make you react like that. Scarier than dragons even!"

Clicking his tongue Ispir would slump his shoulders.

"I-I mean I sometimes see small fairies around my camp listening to my music."

A cold, coiling feeling suddenly formed in the put of his stomach at the thought of something so harmful being so closeby as often as they were.

".... I-Is.... is THAT bad?"

He frowned softly, genuine concerned shimmering in his eyes as he met Kilien's gaze.

Kilien Basmarc​

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

The face he made in response to hearing about fae frequenting the bard's campsites did not bode well for the bard.

"They like music," he responded, brow furrowing in concern over his eyes. Much akin to his own inner beast, lesser fae were easily drawn in by a good tune and lulled into complacency. Higher fae could also be soothed into favor, if the song was good enough. At least, some of them could.

Others might simply turn the bard's spine to mud for the mere annoyance. Such was the coin one flipped when it came to the higher spirits of bedlam.

"The little ones can get drunk off it but the bigger ones..." he shook his head forcefully, "you're better off not catching their attention or they might just steal you as a pet ... or feed you to one of their other pets. Just... don't speak to them. Any of them. They can ruin your life."

With a look down at his mug, still quite full from his own neglect of drinking, he groused on his own family's bad run of luck when it came to fae. Perhaps not quite so bad as someone that he met while on the road for an Academy mission.

"I met a woman... well, she didn't look like a woman, while I was traveling near the spine. She'd been on the road south in the mountains with her mate when they were visited at their own campfire by a stranger. Who asked for too many favors. It was a fae in disguise, but when she realized what he was he'd locked her into the form of a beast and then took her mate. It's been years and she still hasn't found her."

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would clutch his mug in both hands, staring with wide, naive eyes up at Kilien as the taller man began to regale them with warnings about Fae. including a particularly harrowing story that made Ispir genuinely frown, not pout, and the Bard would look down into their mug for a long, pensive moment. His fingers drumming along the sides of the mug in nervous motions. Ispir was just clever enough to maybe put two and two together though and, after really getting the runes of his brain glowing he would look up at Kilien for a long, silent moment.

"This umm... woman. You said you met her but is she related to you somehow?"

Ispir had noticed the influence in Kilien's eyes and this story, his reaction to Fae, sounded like a very personal wound. With concern in his eyes and empathy in his heart Ispir would extend a small hand to rest over one of Kilien's own.

"A-And I promise to be careful with Fae from now on Kilien, thank you for the warning."

Patting Kilien's hand a couple times Ispir would withdraw his own, a world different from the lycan's own hand, all softness and dexterous fingers, meant more for plucking harp strings or painting than combat or hard work.

Kilien Basmarc​

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Related?" brow furrowed, Kilien eyed the bard, "No, she was one of those Yaegir folk. Monster hunters, ya know."

Didn't feel the need to expand any further on the details. He looked down at the hand patting his own, uncertain of the offered sympathy.

"Good," a delayed nod followed as with more of a habitual twitch than any desire to drink lifted his mug to his mouth and commenced with glugging. A few moments later and the empty tankard hit the floor. Kilien wiped his mouth on his sleeve, which went about as well as you'd expect.

A beat as he stared at the Bard a bit more intently now.

"How do you know my name?"

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would give a knowing nod, very familiar with the "Yaegir folk" Kilien Basmarc mentioned and Ispir would take another sip only to jump a bit as Kilien simply dropped his mug. That was... unexpected. But as Kilien questioned him on how Ispir knew his name the Bard would give a smile and answer.

"Well, two ways really, but the simpler one is that you stand out almost as much as I do. You've even got folks they still tell stories about and I, well, it's my job to know stories! You're related to Berren Basmarc and you don't have folks worthy of legends in your bloodline without whispers of what you will also become too!"

Ispir would wiggle cozily into his seat and think for a moment.

"I dunno if you're as good as your great grandpa with a sword but the second reason is a bit more uhmm... magical. Sometimes when I sing for certain people the songs aren't what I write, they just reflect part of the person I sing for. You needed reassurance tonight, a man named Kilien Basmarc struggling with some umm.... what lyrics did it whisper to me again? 'Wild World' and it's 'Sharp Claws' along with your heart beating out love for someone every time it thumped, which is why I asked for you to think of her. "

Ispir gave an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. Normally I ask permission to sing for someone so directly but you seemed pretty insistent and, w-well, in need so.... once your... you-.... ness gave me your name I remembered the stories about your great grandpa."

Rubbing the back of his head sheepishly Ispir would sigh.

"I did kinda mess up in just using it without asking though. Sorry about that. But don't worry, my songs don't do anything other than convey part of you or who you are. No charms or mentalism here."

Kilien Basmarc​

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

A tiny part of him felt the sharp sting of defensiveness for an apparent magical intrusion into his psyche. The want to lash out at the young Bard and tell him how invasive such a thing was. Was privacy no longer sacred?

But he had asked for another song, damning any consequences for the demand, and his gratefulness for Ispir's concession to oblige far outweighed any minuscule rise of anger. That wasn't him.

And he wasn't his great grandfather.

"Berren Basmarc was a murderer," Kilien intoned flatly. That ancestry beget no pride and, as of late, something more than his usual apathy. Normally he shrugged off the mention of his legendary ancestor, knowing just how many generations and worlds apart they were. But a discomforted tension settled into his expression as Kilien's mind lingered on their actual similarities. It bothered him now more than ever because speaking truths of his predecessor only further revealed the truths of himself. His other self. The one he no longer wished to shrug off.

Apathy of his curse could not possibly serve his purpose anymore and he knew, without a single doubt, it would drive a rift between himself and Vittoria greater than his desire to leave Vel Anir ever could. She'd overlooked a lot of things about him that should have turned her away, but that?

No, he was certain she would not.

"I'm nothing like him," mood spoiled on such rotten thoughts, he slowly pushed himself up to his feet and looked over at Ispir in his chair through the tangle of his wily mane, "I'm nobody at all. Just... forget my name."

Boot met tankard and set it skittering like a kicked dog across the floor, giving him pause as he moved to leave. "Thanks for indulging me."

Perhaps he should have just stuck with walking. Maybe a dip in the Cairou would clear his thoughts. Kilien pushed past, staggering slightly between the chairs.

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would wince a bit as Killien was obviously upset with them. Never mind that tales and legends could often omit the truth so or more grizzly details of the figures or events they portray. A 'legendary' battle for some could be a bloodbath for others. A hero for some a tyrant for others and, in this case, a legendary swordsman to some, a murderer to others. Ispir would purse his lips gently and start to reply.

"W-Well I didn't mean he-....."

A sharp reprimand, a determined separation, an insistence on the denial of blood and resemblance. Ispir simply nodded, looking up at Kilien with wide, eyes. Certainly the small bard was afraid, Kilien was much larger than he and undoubtedly a better fighter... but more than that worry was also... sadness. He had never wanted to hurt Kilien's feelings. Not at all.

As the tall man skulked away Ispir would look down sadly at the mug in his lap, heart heavy with regret, and gently rise from his seat to go to bed for the evening. One thing for certain: he definitely wouldn't forget the name Kilien Basmarc or how he had hurt him anytime soon.​