23, Fall, 513 AV
A haunting tune wafted through the chilly morning air as Vernadel piped away on her clay flute. She was perched on the stairs of the Wright Memorial Library, her tail tumbling down a few steps and her tortoiseshell sack draped haphazardly over some more on her right side. Fingers resembling wiggling worms, she played her slow paced melody to the early city goers of Zeltiva.
Not that anyone paid much attention to her, busy as they all were. Those that happened to glance in her direction gave her odd looks, but by now, she was used to people thinking she was some kind of strange creature that better belonged in a carnival. The crude name of butterseal had seeped out of the University grounds and was now a standing joke amongst many in the port city. Vern longed for the day that another Akvatari would find his or her way to Zeltiva so she could share the cruel sting of the name with them. The more dismayed she grew, the more violent her song became, the notes sharp and menacing as she blew into her instrument.
Banishing her dark thoughts, Vernadel replaced the blackness in her mind with an image of Niall, as she nearly always did to try and cheer herself up. The gallant Isur who made her fear nothing when she was in his presence was also so vulnerable sometimes that it made her heart yearn to take away whatever pain he had and bring it unto herself. She loved the way his hair swept into his eyes on windy days, and how his new clothes fit him so perfectly that they showed off every defined muscle in his body. If only she were human…or Isur herself…she would be able to profess her love for him.
Sighing dreamily, Vern’s eyes glazed over, her fingers automatically finding the correct holes in her flute to plug and release. The tune had now turned to a lazy, whimsical song that vibrated around the exterior of the library with wild abandon. Until now, she had never realized how much her melodies changed with her moods. Imagining Niall’s handsome face and broad shoulders, she let herself play her feelings, the small clay instrument filling with soft melancholic sounds. She was so lost in her reverie that she never heard the other soul who approached.