Spring 32, 515 AV
Gwin was curled up on the floor of her suite at the Blue Gem, bent over a few sheets of parchment that she was covering with tight scratchy writing. From time to time she looked up, humming a melody to herself. Although she was gazing at the small pool next to her, turquoise eyes hardly saw its still surface. Plunge Pool Bay had satisfied her hunger just an hour ago. Now she was trying to remember the words of the ballad she’d sung with the Hirem the Benshira. Who would’ve expected them to meet him again after that!
Words didn’t come as easy to her as music did. Thankfully, a ballad wrapped words into a melody, drew some out and swallowed others, which helped her memory. He’d only recited the words to her twice, only once in Common, but eventually she had it all in front of her.
Pushing herself up into sitting position, she went through the ballad again. Raising her voice, she sang in a soft soprano, struggling to adjust the words to the rhythm. It felt weird to sing it in a language it wasn’t intended for, but she’d already gotten that feeling during the duet with Hirem. Even so, she’d heard of musicians that translated songs into different languages, connecting words and melody in new and interesting ways. Gwin didn’t want to stray too far from the original, but she did think it possible to translate Dimah’s Lament.
Through singing it, she discovered a few words that didn’t fit and replaced them according to her memory. Picking up the parchment, she read over it again and gave a satisfied nod.
As the tips of her tail lazily dipped into the pool, the next sheet was filled with lines and notes at frantic speed. The melody was still fresh in her head, so writing it down proved to be far less difficult than remembering the words. The alphabet of music, a series of lines and dots most people found mysterious or even intimidating, had been etched into her mind through years of practice. Ledousium had taught her daughter well.
It still took longer though. As Gwin drew her charcoal stick across the parchment, doubts were crawling up her spine. Her wings trembled slightly, sign of her unease.
Gwin was curled up on the floor of her suite at the Blue Gem, bent over a few sheets of parchment that she was covering with tight scratchy writing. From time to time she looked up, humming a melody to herself. Although she was gazing at the small pool next to her, turquoise eyes hardly saw its still surface. Plunge Pool Bay had satisfied her hunger just an hour ago. Now she was trying to remember the words of the ballad she’d sung with the Hirem the Benshira. Who would’ve expected them to meet him again after that!
Words didn’t come as easy to her as music did. Thankfully, a ballad wrapped words into a melody, drew some out and swallowed others, which helped her memory. He’d only recited the words to her twice, only once in Common, but eventually she had it all in front of her.
Dimah's Lament :
Pushing herself up into sitting position, she went through the ballad again. Raising her voice, she sang in a soft soprano, struggling to adjust the words to the rhythm. It felt weird to sing it in a language it wasn’t intended for, but she’d already gotten that feeling during the duet with Hirem. Even so, she’d heard of musicians that translated songs into different languages, connecting words and melody in new and interesting ways. Gwin didn’t want to stray too far from the original, but she did think it possible to translate Dimah’s Lament.
Through singing it, she discovered a few words that didn’t fit and replaced them according to her memory. Picking up the parchment, she read over it again and gave a satisfied nod.
As the tips of her tail lazily dipped into the pool, the next sheet was filled with lines and notes at frantic speed. The melody was still fresh in her head, so writing it down proved to be far less difficult than remembering the words. The alphabet of music, a series of lines and dots most people found mysterious or even intimidating, had been etched into her mind through years of practice. Ledousium had taught her daughter well.
It still took longer though. As Gwin drew her charcoal stick across the parchment, doubts were crawling up her spine. Her wings trembled slightly, sign of her unease.
