Spring 12, 514 AV
Gwin hadn’t wanted to come to that place. Yet here she was, nestled into a corner far away from the fireplace and other patrons, scribbling away with black charcoal on her parchment. As an Akvatari, she longed for the blue sky above her head and endless horizons to both sides, maybe even gentle waves beneath her tail.
A fellow student had recommended it to her. The boy had seen her work several times around campus, the last time with her parchment rustling in the fresh spring breeze. He’d suggested she relocate to the Quill’s Rest for it’d provide shelter from the wind, a quiet atmosphere suited for studying and cheap drink. That day she’d decided to follow the suggestion. After some time, a pot of steaming tea and a mug had appeared next to her. A sniff proved it smelled curiously of the sea and… food. It was still too hot to drink though, so she returned to her parchment.
Every location had a melody, an underlying tone and rhythm that surfaced when one listened to its sounds and voices for a long enough time. Whenever she sat down to compose, Gwin tried to grasp that before writing down anything. After determining the rhythm, the next thing she did was discovering the basic melody. Only then did charcoal meet parchment and the process of writing lines and dots begin.
After that, it literally flowed out of her fingertips. She only had to listen carefully and record what she heard. Most times her fingers couldn’t even keep up with the steady trickle of music in her ears. Yet she had to chase after it again and again. There was no purer form of expressing emotion than music and no better way of sharing it with others than writing sheet music.
While she worked, her wings moved lazily through the air and sometimes her green fin twitched with excitement. Although she heard everything around her, Gwin’s other senses were completely focused on the parchment and the notes in front of her. The tea was cooling down slowly, but surely.
A fellow student had recommended it to her. The boy had seen her work several times around campus, the last time with her parchment rustling in the fresh spring breeze. He’d suggested she relocate to the Quill’s Rest for it’d provide shelter from the wind, a quiet atmosphere suited for studying and cheap drink. That day she’d decided to follow the suggestion. After some time, a pot of steaming tea and a mug had appeared next to her. A sniff proved it smelled curiously of the sea and… food. It was still too hot to drink though, so she returned to her parchment.
Every location had a melody, an underlying tone and rhythm that surfaced when one listened to its sounds and voices for a long enough time. Whenever she sat down to compose, Gwin tried to grasp that before writing down anything. After determining the rhythm, the next thing she did was discovering the basic melody. Only then did charcoal meet parchment and the process of writing lines and dots begin.
After that, it literally flowed out of her fingertips. She only had to listen carefully and record what she heard. Most times her fingers couldn’t even keep up with the steady trickle of music in her ears. Yet she had to chase after it again and again. There was no purer form of expressing emotion than music and no better way of sharing it with others than writing sheet music.
While she worked, her wings moved lazily through the air and sometimes her green fin twitched with excitement. Although she heard everything around her, Gwin’s other senses were completely focused on the parchment and the notes in front of her. The tea was cooling down slowly, but surely.