10th of Spring, 515 AV
The Bizarre was flourishing, and Vard was growing used to the duality of clinking. His ears caught two nigh identical sounds that could only be described as clinking; the exchange of coins and the collection of water glass from the menagerie of fountains. Passing underneath the archway into the Bizarre proper, the morning sun cast rays of multiple colours into the air which sent Vard's heart into a flutter of excitement. This season is spectacular. He'd brought along just enough coin for something to snack on at noon so he made his way to a stall selling food and traded some Mizas for some cherries. Pocketing the fruits the Symenestra made his way to a corner a little way from the entrance. Laying down his cloak, Vard sat with crossed legs and placed his empty coinpurse in front of him. Time to play once more.
Vard put his ocarina to his lips and began a quick trill of melodies, letting his fingers dance along the round instrument. He tried a few scales that he had picked up in Wind Reach many months ago. His C scale was best, keeping a steady rhythm and only fumbling the second transition in the formula pattern. His D scale was a bit more difficult, so he didn't do formula pattern and instead tried a melodic and harmonic scale. Vard finally caught his breath, feeling suitably warmed up and sifted through his mental songbook. He would have to visit some taverns and listen to some higher class musicians and see what they were playing. He himself had largely forgotten a great many pieces which he'd only put a token effort into to begin with. He cursed his laxity of past years but resolved to pay closer attention in the future.
The Canticle of Esteria was still fresh in Vard's mind so he decided to play that at least once. He took a moment to run through it silently, fingers tapping the holes of his Ocarina in the Canticle's tempo. Satisfied, he began to play in that oddly spidery beat. Up and down the Canticle flew, and while nobody was there to sing the lyrics Vard heard them loud and clear in his mind. Cracking an eye open, the Symenestra saw a handful of people pass by and a few turned their heads. Fewer stopped to listen, and the smallest amount actually dropped in a gold Miza or two. Seems my past performance was a mighty fluke. I need to practice more. Still, it warmed his heart to see his purse fatten, even slightly. The Canticle was in its last throes, and as Vard charged into the last refrain he botched a note and winced. Valiantly, he kept up the pace and let the last note drift off...
Vard set down his flute and raised his gaze to meet the eyes of a young boy. The boy's messy hair and grubby face bespoke a street urchin. The boy's eyes though had a keen attention to them that Vard recognized. He'd seen those same eyes in his own face, many years ago. This boy had seen things that would probably curdle most people's stomach just hearing about. Vard knew exactly what to ask this boy within whom he'd found common ground. They'd both seen such terrible things, that it only seemed fair to ask.
"Any requests?" The boy grinned widely and stepped forward to stare down at Vard. "Ever heard o' The Blushing Maiden?" At that, Vard couldn't help but cackle and return the grin even wider. The lad had chosen a song that even a Sunberthian would find scandalous. Vard had heard different versions of it in some of the seedier inns he'd frequented in his travels and while the lyrics differed, the tune remained the same. Vard pulled the ocarina to is face and said, "Will you sing for me if I play this? I can't seem to remember the third verse you know." The boy nodded sharply and cleared his throat. Vard began the song's slow and ponderous chords, before it dove into light-hearted melody and harmony, which was interspersed with contrary fifths and majors. Even as he made small mistakes, he felt the music bubble up out of him, like laughter. The boy for his part, began to sing an impressive tenor.
Vard stopped his music when the boy stopped singing and saw that he was wrestling against the grip of a well-dressed older man who had him by the neck. "You petching bastard! Get off me!" Vard put down his ocarina and got up. He went to the two of them and held out a warding hand. "Beg your pardon sir, but what exactly are you doing? The boy hasn't robbed you has he? I could surely compensate anything he's stolen. There's no need for violence." The older man glared at him and grunted, shoving the boy to the ground. "This wretch of a boy ran away from home. I'm taking him back to his mother, who is worried sick!" At the last part, he kicked the boy in the ribs.
Adopting an apologetic expression, the older man looked at Vard directly. "I'm sorry for any trouble he's caused you and your business. This should be enough recompense, right?" The sour man withdrew a pouch of money and tossed it beside Vard's own coinpurse. Vard was shocked. Presuming those were gold Mizas, he was wealthier than he'd been in weeks, possibly months. His eyes fixed on that pouch that had shifted his fate significantly, and then he looked at the boy. The poor lad had tears in his eyes and he looked scared. In fact, he looked far more scared than he had any right to be. As a young runaway, Vard would be more angry and insulted at his capture than frightened of punishment. At least at first. Was this man really who he said he was, to take away the boy like this? Vard wasn't so sure. "I thank you for the gift of recompense but this boy was being no trouble at all. In fact, I'd be more than happy to keep watch over him while you go get his mother to collect him personally." The older man scowled at this, and he grabbed he boy gruffly by the collar of his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, Vard spied a blade shining within the man's coat. "Actually, his mother's bedridden." "And his father?" The older man's face was now terribly displeased. "Dead. Now take your reward and look the other way, petch you!" Vard knew all he needed to. This boy's fate was worth far more than the gold of a thug's generosity.
Vard took a breath, and stepped away. He took up his ocarina and began playing the Blushing Maiden's tune as though nothing had happened. He could still hear the boy's cries over the music, but it was deafened by the noise of the crowded Bizarre. The older man grabbed the boy and made to leave. It was a shame that Vard hadn't brought his sword this morning. It was however, quite the boon that the thug hadn't taken back the gold. Quirking a smile, Vard kicked the gold underneath his cloak and stopped playing. He closed the distance between the thug and himself and brushed off the last of the reluctance he felt. This petcher was going to get what he deserved, one way or another.
Vard grabbed the older man by both shoulders and let his fangs release. He felt a surge of hunger and tamped it down angrily. He did however, let his fangs hang mere inches from the thug's exposed neck. "You know who I am. I'm a widow. A Symenestra. I don't suppose you've heard about our rather gruesome bite? It's markedly worse than our bark, I can guarantee. Here's a little biology lesson. The hungrier a Krova gets, the more potent our venom becomes. Can you guess how long it's been since I ate last? You know, I myself can't quite remember. Only, I do feel quite famished. I haven't tried your ilk before. There's a first time for everything!" He made as if to bite the man's neck and he heard the panic in his voice that was relieving to the Symenestra. "Okay, okay! Have the damned urchin! I doubt he's even worth the trouble anyway! Just, let me go! Let me go you monster!" Vard obliged him, and the scum ran faster than he would have thought possible. The boy it seemed, had been forgotten the instant his own life was at risk.
"Come back to my things, and we'll have a talk you and I." Vard walked back to his spot and took out the pouch of gold that he'd found. From within he found a veritable treasure stash. Mizas of all three varieties were in no short supply. He withdrew the sum he'd paid for the cherries, put it in his own coinpurse and perused it one last time. Sighing heavily, Vard gave it one last look and then turned to the boy. He was quite shaken by the turn of events. So too, were some of the Bizarre's other patrons. Vard hadn't failed to notice the looks he'd garnered from his threat. He felt his fangs retracting slowly, but their fear of Symenestra like him probably wouldn't be so short-lived. He tied up the pouch and handed it to the boy. The young lad was surprised, and still hesitant. He took it and held it like something he had stolen. He had clearly never had so much money at any time. "Take that, and get yourself some proper clothes. Get a room at a half-decent inn, and some dinner, alright?" The boy nodded, clearly still trying to process what was happening. "I take it he wasn't really sent by your mother then? The boy nodded, and then cocked his head as a thought came to him. "Why did you save me back there? The man paid you. And now you're giving me this? How come?"
Vard looked fondly at the boy, and again his expression reminded Vard of his own youth. Scarred but still curious. Still wondering where his place is in this world. "I did it because there are good people, bad people and people who eat people in this world. I count myself among the first group, if you couldn't already tell. Why have I given you money? Because firstly, this is my job." Vard hefted his ocarina, and then put an arm on the boy's shoulder. "And secondly, because you need it more than me. Whatever you've been through, it will get better. Tell me one thing though. What's your name?" The boy stared at him for a long moment, then took Vard into a strong hug. Of course, at least it wasn't a rib cracking hug. Not like Phobius's hugs. "My name's Levi, and thank you sir, for everything. Without any warning, Levi shot off into the crowd and Vard watched him leave. If only I could have taken him in myself. Only, I can barely support my own, much less a growing boy. Maybe some day... "Hey Levi, let me know if you run into any blushing maidens alright?" Vard heard him laugh, and saw the wave of his hand. Levi's strides were light, and perhaps his path would be all the brighter for having met Vard. At least the Symenestra hoped so.
To have class, is not to be generous and kind without reserve but knowing when and where to be kind. It is also knowing who to be kind to.
Vard put his ocarina to his lips and began a quick trill of melodies, letting his fingers dance along the round instrument. He tried a few scales that he had picked up in Wind Reach many months ago. His C scale was best, keeping a steady rhythm and only fumbling the second transition in the formula pattern. His D scale was a bit more difficult, so he didn't do formula pattern and instead tried a melodic and harmonic scale. Vard finally caught his breath, feeling suitably warmed up and sifted through his mental songbook. He would have to visit some taverns and listen to some higher class musicians and see what they were playing. He himself had largely forgotten a great many pieces which he'd only put a token effort into to begin with. He cursed his laxity of past years but resolved to pay closer attention in the future.
The Canticle of Esteria was still fresh in Vard's mind so he decided to play that at least once. He took a moment to run through it silently, fingers tapping the holes of his Ocarina in the Canticle's tempo. Satisfied, he began to play in that oddly spidery beat. Up and down the Canticle flew, and while nobody was there to sing the lyrics Vard heard them loud and clear in his mind. Cracking an eye open, the Symenestra saw a handful of people pass by and a few turned their heads. Fewer stopped to listen, and the smallest amount actually dropped in a gold Miza or two. Seems my past performance was a mighty fluke. I need to practice more. Still, it warmed his heart to see his purse fatten, even slightly. The Canticle was in its last throes, and as Vard charged into the last refrain he botched a note and winced. Valiantly, he kept up the pace and let the last note drift off...
Vard set down his flute and raised his gaze to meet the eyes of a young boy. The boy's messy hair and grubby face bespoke a street urchin. The boy's eyes though had a keen attention to them that Vard recognized. He'd seen those same eyes in his own face, many years ago. This boy had seen things that would probably curdle most people's stomach just hearing about. Vard knew exactly what to ask this boy within whom he'd found common ground. They'd both seen such terrible things, that it only seemed fair to ask.
"Any requests?" The boy grinned widely and stepped forward to stare down at Vard. "Ever heard o' The Blushing Maiden?" At that, Vard couldn't help but cackle and return the grin even wider. The lad had chosen a song that even a Sunberthian would find scandalous. Vard had heard different versions of it in some of the seedier inns he'd frequented in his travels and while the lyrics differed, the tune remained the same. Vard pulled the ocarina to is face and said, "Will you sing for me if I play this? I can't seem to remember the third verse you know." The boy nodded sharply and cleared his throat. Vard began the song's slow and ponderous chords, before it dove into light-hearted melody and harmony, which was interspersed with contrary fifths and majors. Even as he made small mistakes, he felt the music bubble up out of him, like laughter. The boy for his part, began to sing an impressive tenor.
"The maid! The maid! How her hips swing and sway! By Ionu's grace, no finer maid lives today! She turns the heads, in pairs of two! I imagine the lads know just what to do! And here I wonder, is she truly as she seems? She certainly could be the woman of my dreams!
Oh the blushing maiden! How her chest is laden! Oh the blushing maiden, she's as lovely to me as a haunch is to a Myrian! When she comes to meet me at the bar, should my hand drift too far, I'd be the luckiest man in Mizahar! Oh the blushing maiden, if she loves me I'll be taken! No woman fair or flirtatious bold, could catch my eye young or old!
Now the maid, she comes with tankard in a hand! A fine gift with a finer friend! Now come my maid, shall we dance? Maybe we could be more than friends? AGH! The maid so bold, has drenched me in ale colder than cold! But aye my form is strong and proud, I'll bet she admires me though she'd never say that aloud! The maid so sweet and red, come dance with me and your dress you'll shed!
Oh the blushing maiden! How her chest is laden! Oh the blushing maiden, she's as lovely to me, as a haunch is to a Myrian! When she comes to meet me at the bar, should my hand drift too far, I'd be the luckiest man in Mizahar! Oh the blushing maiden, if she loves me I'll be taken! No woman fair or flirtatious bold, could catch my eye young or old!
I've lost my shirt and the maid, she gasps! I spy her hand at her blouse fumbling with clasps! This blushing maid, she's seen sense at last! My smile wide, I cross the room! The candles flare, chasing away the gloom! And now-"
Oh the blushing maiden! How her chest is laden! Oh the blushing maiden, she's as lovely to me as a haunch is to a Myrian! When she comes to meet me at the bar, should my hand drift too far, I'd be the luckiest man in Mizahar! Oh the blushing maiden, if she loves me I'll be taken! No woman fair or flirtatious bold, could catch my eye young or old!
Now the maid, she comes with tankard in a hand! A fine gift with a finer friend! Now come my maid, shall we dance? Maybe we could be more than friends? AGH! The maid so bold, has drenched me in ale colder than cold! But aye my form is strong and proud, I'll bet she admires me though she'd never say that aloud! The maid so sweet and red, come dance with me and your dress you'll shed!
Oh the blushing maiden! How her chest is laden! Oh the blushing maiden, she's as lovely to me, as a haunch is to a Myrian! When she comes to meet me at the bar, should my hand drift too far, I'd be the luckiest man in Mizahar! Oh the blushing maiden, if she loves me I'll be taken! No woman fair or flirtatious bold, could catch my eye young or old!
I've lost my shirt and the maid, she gasps! I spy her hand at her blouse fumbling with clasps! This blushing maid, she's seen sense at last! My smile wide, I cross the room! The candles flare, chasing away the gloom! And now-"
Vard stopped his music when the boy stopped singing and saw that he was wrestling against the grip of a well-dressed older man who had him by the neck. "You petching bastard! Get off me!" Vard put down his ocarina and got up. He went to the two of them and held out a warding hand. "Beg your pardon sir, but what exactly are you doing? The boy hasn't robbed you has he? I could surely compensate anything he's stolen. There's no need for violence." The older man glared at him and grunted, shoving the boy to the ground. "This wretch of a boy ran away from home. I'm taking him back to his mother, who is worried sick!" At the last part, he kicked the boy in the ribs.
Adopting an apologetic expression, the older man looked at Vard directly. "I'm sorry for any trouble he's caused you and your business. This should be enough recompense, right?" The sour man withdrew a pouch of money and tossed it beside Vard's own coinpurse. Vard was shocked. Presuming those were gold Mizas, he was wealthier than he'd been in weeks, possibly months. His eyes fixed on that pouch that had shifted his fate significantly, and then he looked at the boy. The poor lad had tears in his eyes and he looked scared. In fact, he looked far more scared than he had any right to be. As a young runaway, Vard would be more angry and insulted at his capture than frightened of punishment. At least at first. Was this man really who he said he was, to take away the boy like this? Vard wasn't so sure. "I thank you for the gift of recompense but this boy was being no trouble at all. In fact, I'd be more than happy to keep watch over him while you go get his mother to collect him personally." The older man scowled at this, and he grabbed he boy gruffly by the collar of his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, Vard spied a blade shining within the man's coat. "Actually, his mother's bedridden." "And his father?" The older man's face was now terribly displeased. "Dead. Now take your reward and look the other way, petch you!" Vard knew all he needed to. This boy's fate was worth far more than the gold of a thug's generosity.
Vard took a breath, and stepped away. He took up his ocarina and began playing the Blushing Maiden's tune as though nothing had happened. He could still hear the boy's cries over the music, but it was deafened by the noise of the crowded Bizarre. The older man grabbed the boy and made to leave. It was a shame that Vard hadn't brought his sword this morning. It was however, quite the boon that the thug hadn't taken back the gold. Quirking a smile, Vard kicked the gold underneath his cloak and stopped playing. He closed the distance between the thug and himself and brushed off the last of the reluctance he felt. This petcher was going to get what he deserved, one way or another.
Vard grabbed the older man by both shoulders and let his fangs release. He felt a surge of hunger and tamped it down angrily. He did however, let his fangs hang mere inches from the thug's exposed neck. "You know who I am. I'm a widow. A Symenestra. I don't suppose you've heard about our rather gruesome bite? It's markedly worse than our bark, I can guarantee. Here's a little biology lesson. The hungrier a Krova gets, the more potent our venom becomes. Can you guess how long it's been since I ate last? You know, I myself can't quite remember. Only, I do feel quite famished. I haven't tried your ilk before. There's a first time for everything!" He made as if to bite the man's neck and he heard the panic in his voice that was relieving to the Symenestra. "Okay, okay! Have the damned urchin! I doubt he's even worth the trouble anyway! Just, let me go! Let me go you monster!" Vard obliged him, and the scum ran faster than he would have thought possible. The boy it seemed, had been forgotten the instant his own life was at risk.
"Come back to my things, and we'll have a talk you and I." Vard walked back to his spot and took out the pouch of gold that he'd found. From within he found a veritable treasure stash. Mizas of all three varieties were in no short supply. He withdrew the sum he'd paid for the cherries, put it in his own coinpurse and perused it one last time. Sighing heavily, Vard gave it one last look and then turned to the boy. He was quite shaken by the turn of events. So too, were some of the Bizarre's other patrons. Vard hadn't failed to notice the looks he'd garnered from his threat. He felt his fangs retracting slowly, but their fear of Symenestra like him probably wouldn't be so short-lived. He tied up the pouch and handed it to the boy. The young lad was surprised, and still hesitant. He took it and held it like something he had stolen. He had clearly never had so much money at any time. "Take that, and get yourself some proper clothes. Get a room at a half-decent inn, and some dinner, alright?" The boy nodded, clearly still trying to process what was happening. "I take it he wasn't really sent by your mother then? The boy nodded, and then cocked his head as a thought came to him. "Why did you save me back there? The man paid you. And now you're giving me this? How come?"
Vard looked fondly at the boy, and again his expression reminded Vard of his own youth. Scarred but still curious. Still wondering where his place is in this world. "I did it because there are good people, bad people and people who eat people in this world. I count myself among the first group, if you couldn't already tell. Why have I given you money? Because firstly, this is my job." Vard hefted his ocarina, and then put an arm on the boy's shoulder. "And secondly, because you need it more than me. Whatever you've been through, it will get better. Tell me one thing though. What's your name?" The boy stared at him for a long moment, then took Vard into a strong hug. Of course, at least it wasn't a rib cracking hug. Not like Phobius's hugs. "My name's Levi, and thank you sir, for everything. Without any warning, Levi shot off into the crowd and Vard watched him leave. If only I could have taken him in myself. Only, I can barely support my own, much less a growing boy. Maybe some day... "Hey Levi, let me know if you run into any blushing maidens alright?" Vard heard him laugh, and saw the wave of his hand. Levi's strides were light, and perhaps his path would be all the brighter for having met Vard. At least the Symenestra hoped so.
To have class, is not to be generous and kind without reserve but knowing when and where to be kind. It is also knowing who to be kind to.
Class is remaining true to yourself
No matter the cost
No matter the cost
