Timestamp: Winter 508 AV
During the Winter, Gwin had returned to Abura to work with the music she had heard and the exotic songs and melodies she had gathered. The little apartment she had moved in after leaving her mother’s home was still ready for her, a little dusty, but that was nothing that couldn’t be rectified if one wished to move in again. The first day had been spent tidying up and looking around the city for any novelties she had missed during her absence. But Abura was as slow and thoughtful as the Akvatari themselves, so there wasn’t anything that attracted her attention.
After that, she embraced the music. Sitting at the outskirts of the city, on the sand near the ocean waves, she had unpacked her violin and tuned it. The strings were not quite in tune, probably offended by the immense heat in the desert. Now that she had returned to the milder climate of Akvatar, Gwin hoped that the violin would stop being offended and work with her as effortlessly as usual. After the tuning, the first notes were sent across the ocean.
Then Gwin went through the songs she had gathered in Eyktol, starting with the sad ballad Nurya and her girls had taught her in Yahebah. It was about a shepherd who kept his sheep every day. One day a beautiful woman from his tribe visited him to bring oranges, but shortly after a pack of desert wolves attacked the sheep and the man had to fight with all his might to protect the precious herd and his beloved woman. The song ended with a few sad, low notes. Nurya had said that the shepherd was at least injured at the end, probably even dead. The sadness and tragedy of the ballad moved Gwin and that was why she liked the song. Recalling the melody in her head, she started playing it, slowly and carefully so she got every note right. The last time she had played it was about a season ago, still she perfectly remembered it. Her mother had called it absolute pitch, the perfect musical memory. Apparently every family member possessed that feature.
Gwin paused, sighing, and then continued. Rushing through the dramatic part with fingers dancing over the fingerboard, she soon reached the last part. It was filled with sadness, the man was fighting for his life, although he knew that he couldn’t win against the wolves. They were too many. Her blond hair swaying, Gwin rocked back and forth with the rhythm while the music was sent across the ocean and towards Abura, a ray of light in the beginning darkness.
