The Secret of Song (invite only)

[Illial]

Timestamp: 10th of Winter, 509
Location: Near the Main Gates
Status: Invite Only

Illial returned to the same part of the street every day for four days, pretending it was because she needed the money, not because she was hoping to Abashai again. In truth, she wanted nothing more than to hear stories of his travels, hear the music of his home... And she would, of course, teach him, as that was what he would come to her for.

If he came at all. She was beginning to wonder if he would show up. She had said she would be here all week, and she would stay that long, maybe longer if he didn't come. But she had hoped he would come straight back. It was probably a foolish hope, he was surely busy and would come when he would come, if he came at all.

Throughout the day she played songs, and she even sang once. It was warmer today than it had been the past few days and she played well despite her worry.

[Abashai]

Abashai had told Nya about the fiddler named Illial, and he had hoped to take her to hear the street musician play. But the benshiran had been busy with his work on the Cultural Council, and almost four days had passed since he first met Illial. Abashai wanted to find Illial something warm to wear while she played on the street. He had also asked his bondmate if she thought it was appropriate to buy the woman something, as he believed the musician did not have a coat or cloak. He did not want to insult the woman, but hated to see her stand in the street in the winter cold. Naya seemed to agree and had directed Abashai to the Elegant Weave to find something to get for Illial.

The desert man did not mention to Nya taking music lessons from Illial, he had already been playing with some benshiran musicians, secretly, hoping to improve his skills and impress Nya. But they were only playing Eyktolian music. Abashai wanted to learn something of Syliran music.

Abashai decided not to wait any longer, since Illial had said she would only be playing in that location for a few more days. So, after visiting the Elegant Weave, with a wool cape in hand and his oud (though he wasn't sure if he would need it), Abashai made his way toward the main gates, to the place where he had seen Illial.

The distinct sound of the fiddle, this time mingled with a woman's singing voice, once again reached him before she came into sight. Abashai approached Illial, glancing around for her feline companion. When she had finished her song, the benshiran applauded. Then greeted her with a warm smile. "Lovely! So you sing as well?" He looked again at the unique instrument she played, he had never seen jewels on an instrument before. "I was wondering if the offer to teach me some music still stood?" Then he held out the wool cape. "Oh, and I hope you will take this. Seeing you playing out here without a something to wrap around you makes me feel cold, you would be doing me a bit of a favor if you would wear it." He gave her a wry grin, hoping that she would take it without much fuss.

[Illial]

Illial stared at the cape for a few seconds, blinking in surprise, before reaching out gingerly to take it from Abashai's hand. It was thick and, though not for royalty, well made. A fine gift, but her pride would not allow her to accept the charity. Still, it was winter... She looked at him a little awkwardly, then smiled.

"I will wear it, if it will make you feel better. But I must pay for it."

She noticed the lute-like instrument in his hand, most likely the oud he had spoken of before. She could teach him to play Syliran lute music on it, probably, the only real difference between the instruments seemed to be the oud's lack of frets. She would need to return home to get her own lute, however. And Catti's absence, though not unusual, still had her a little on edge. She would probably return home to find her curled up on the bed after a morning of hunting mice in the alleyways, but she wanted to check anyway.

"If you are not busy we can begin your lesson now. Where would you prefer to it to take place? My house isn't far and I need to collect my lute, but if you if you are unhappy staying there then you can choose the location."

[Abashai]

Illial was something of a curiosity to Abashai. In spite of only having a sleeveless shirt and short pants that only reached her knees, the woman could be found daily busking in the winter streets. She stood on the cold brick street barefoot. He knew she was cold, though this day was warmer that others. Still the cool air gave the bare skin on her arms and legs a slight pink tinge; her cheeks, a rosy coloring. He wasn't sure why it seemed to bother him. She was dedicated to this kind of work, for what reason he could not know.

Abashai was pleased that Illial accepted the cape, and was not surprised that she offered to pay for it. The woman seemed to be quite self-sufficient, and probably did not like the idea of accepting charity. He gestured toward the cape in her hands. "Please, accept it as a gift. I had lost everything I owned in a sandstorm once. If it wasn't for the generosity of my people, I may not have survived. By giving this to you, its like repaying their kindness, just a little bit."

The benshiran was glad she was still willing to teach him. "Now is good for me." He smiled. He considered the offer to take the lessons at her home. The prosect seemed harmless. "It is very kind of you to offer your home. That would be fine, if I'm not imposing." He did not offer his office or he and Nya's home. He wanted to keep his music lessons a secret for now.

[Illial]

Illial looked at the cape in her hands, half of her understanding and half of her stubborn. She clenched her hands in the fabric, hidden from view, exhaled quietly, and nodded. Not wanting to insult Abashai, she smiled. "It is hard for me... I was raised in a part of town where everyone is out for themselves. I have never recieved a gift from anyone outside of my family before, so it is strange that I should recieve one from a stranger! But I thank you, it is... wonderful." She trailed off, blushing at her own awkwardness. Her! The Queen of Performers (or so she liked to think of herself) stumbling over her words and fumbling to express her gratitude.

She laughed off her awkwardness and picked up her fiddle. "Shall we head off then? It is not far, though I would watch your pockets once we get further off the main street." She instantly regretted speaking without thinking. What if he thought she lived in some sort of criminal hotspot, or worse, that she was associated with them? One of them, even? "It's not dangerous!" she said hastily. "It is still a busy street, but it's a little run down. The people there are all honest people, just trying to keep bread on the table and support their families."

She winced inwardly at her gushing. Something about this man made her act like an idiot, and she was almost certain she knew what it was: she saw him as the next step in achieving her dream, and she was afraid that if she scared him off she would be back where she started. Stuck in the slums.

"Shall we, ah... just get moving?" she asked, grinning apologetically.

[Abashai]

Abashai listened to Illial, hearing her concern over how he may perceive her home street. The smile he returned was understanding and meant to put the young woman at ease. "Every part of Syliras has its beauty and its shame, as does every person. Lead the way." Still grinning, he gestured grandly up the street.

The benshiran allowed Illial to take the lead, then moved to walk beside her, though he politely gave ground when moving through heavier crowds. The thought of her warning to watch his pockets made him shove his hand in his long coat pocket, wrapping his hand around the figurine there. He didn't have to feel for it, he knew it was there, even though he hadn't put it there. He could feel the little monkey's hands, one pointing at its eyes with two fingers, the other with two fingers pointing out. He wondered if someone did swipe it from his pocket, would it reappear there. He sighed with a grin, he knew it would. He remained diligent nevertheless.

Abashai found the silence between them a bit awkward, so he struck out with a question. He was not one for small talk. He was used to conversations with his bondmate, which were usually either poignant or pensive, and always interesting. But when one wanted to get acquainted with someone, one had to start somewhere. Illial had already proven pretty open about herself.

"How long have you lived in Syliras?"

[Illial]

Illial felt a bit more at ease now that the initial meeting was over and they were moving.

"My whole life, sadly. I grew up in a house only a few streets away from where I live now, and I have never even left the city." She sighed and fell silent. A plump woman with a basket filled with more eggs than could reasonably fit inside nearly walked into her, and as she skipped sideways to avoid toppling the precariously perched objects she bumped gently into Abashai. "Sorry," she said, frowning at the woman as she disappeared into the crowd, none the wiser to the accident which she had almost caused herself.

She sighed again. She seemed to be doing a lot of sighing lately. "Everyone here cares about themselves, and no one else. I sometimes doubt any of them even truly love their families. There are so many selfish people..." she caught herself before she went too far. She should learn to keep her mouth shut, maybe she would stop offending people then. "I didn't mean everyone. You know what I meant, right?" She shook her head, silently scolding herself.

"I just want to get out of here while I still can. If it's not already too late," she chuckled. She shook her head again and ran a hand through her hair. "Anyway, what about you? How long have you lived here?"

[Abashai]

Never been outside of the city? Abashai was surprised by Illial's confession, though he did not let on. The musician's frustration with her life was not lost on the benshiran. Spending one's entire existence within these walls may satisfy some, but definitely not this young woman. In fact, it had jaded her perception of the town. But again, he had not been in her shoes, had not seen what she has seen.

"I first came to Syliras almost two seasons ago, though I don't live here permanently. My bondmate and I have a home in the Bronze Woods, but rent a room in Travelers' Row to use, as we are in the city quite often."

Abashai reflected on Illial's comment that it may be too late for her to leave the city. Skipping over a large, dark puddle in the uneven street, he offered a bit of encouragement " I would never say it is too late to do something. I was older than you when I left my desert home." Then he added, "And I have met many people here who do care about others, even in my short time here." Testing the woman's sense of humor, he took a chance to make a jibe, grinning at Illial as he spoke. "Maybe you just haven't met them yet."

[Illial]

A bondmate? Illial was surprised, although she didn't know why she should be. Kelvics both unnerved and fascinated her; their frankness and openness seemed so out of place in human society, yet she thought humans could learn to be more thruthful from them and the world would be a better place.

His encouragement lifted her spirits a little. She felt bad for her earlier comment, but he seemed to understand its cause, and the cause of her frustration. She chuckled at his jibe, but remained silent. The street widened out into a small plaza here, the road itself spliting in two, one heading northeast and one northwest. A third road, smaller and narrower, opened off from the northeast one and it was down this one they headed.

"I told you it wasn't far," she grinned.

Illial's house, the third one in, was little more than a tiny brick hovel. As she approached the door, she produced the key on a leather cord around her neck. She bent down so the cord would reach to the lock, and then pushed the door. It didn't move, so she lent against it with her shoulder and shoved hard. It flew open, almost sending her sprawling, but she caught herself.

In one corner of the single room house, Catti lay curled up on the bed. She mewled at them as they came inside, stretching gracefully before jumping down and padding across to them. Wrapping herself around Illial's legs, the furry tripwire continued to mewl pitifully, moving on to Abashai when the musician ignored her.

Illial crossed to where her lute was propped up against the bunk. "Take a seat," she said, motioning towards the wooden chair by the unlit fire. She laid down the fiddle case on the bed, laying the cape on top of it, and smiling, was about to pick up her lute when something small and brown caught her eye, partially concealed in the covers.

"Catti!" she scolded, picking up the dead mouse between her thumb and forefinger. She hurried to the door and flung it into the gutter. "Such a waste, to kill it and not eat it." The cat ignored her and contined to pester Abashai.

Illial retrieved her lute and turned her attention to the man. "Shall we begin?"

[Abashai]

Illial's house was small and simple, only slightly larger than the room Nya and he shared, though the structure was considerably older than Travelers Row. He had not asked the woman if she lived with any family but, by the looks of her home, it was just she and the cat.

At Illial's invitation, Abashai thanked her and took a seat. He reached down to pet Catti, running his hand across the ginger's back, then gently scratching behind her ears. When the woman held aloft the dead rodent, then moved to chuck it out the door, the benshiran stifled a chuckle. She should see some of the things his forest cat brought home! Though, Nya always ate what she killed, and usually shared with him. Illial should meet Nya, he thought, his bondmate liked to meet new people. Even more so a musician.

With the offending mouse disposed of and Illial with her lute ready, Abashai shook the loose locks from his face, produced a plectrum from his pocket and set his oud on his lap. With a wide grin, he replied. "Yes, I believe I am ready."