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aj-the-satyr · 5 years ago

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Echoes of memory

(Day 9 of @thenightofthelivingwriters series of prompts for October. I have to smile about how many of these are leading to me writing snippets about one of my D&D Characters, a Ratkin Bard. Since the word for today is Music it’s not hard to tell who this will feature is it? :) Onward with the words!)

Maximus huffed as he picked himself up brushing aside yet another daily interaction with fellow students. Why him? He frowned as the answer very easily presented itself. Unlike some of the other odd students like the Dragonborn he was weak, easy to bully. He’d never been strong like his clan mates and was overlooked by the elders so never got to do more than dabble in their arcane teachings. He thought that by going his own way he could find a way to overcome this weakness of body, find a way to gain strength, to overpower others. A smile crept across his rodent features as he remembered his first meeting with Noxwell......

...

The music was there. The snow sought to soften it, hide it almost but it was definitely there. It was a faint plucked instrument of some kind playing a rather lonely melody. The Ratkin brushed snow off his fur and sought out the source. Someone was playing a sad song in the snow and he certainly knew what it was like to be ignored in the cruel world, perhaps he might find a friend in this place.

It took a while but eventually he came across a young girl playing some kind of handheld instrument. She continued to pluck out a rather sad song as he stood nearby. Eventually when the song came to an end she looked up at him. He offered a smile. “That was.....” He paused. “That was a sad song, but it was also beautiful.”

He got a smile in return. “Thank you.” He noticed her teeth were pointed.

He reached into his knapsack and pulled out half a loaf of bread. “Are you hungry?”

A frown creased her features. “Why are you offering me this? You seem to have little yourself.”

“I have enough to share and that is what matters.”

She blinked slowly as if taking this in, before jumping to her feet. “Come!”

“What?”

“Come!” She repeated holding out a hand.

He shrugged and took her hand, entrusting his life to this strange little girl. If this was to be his end then so be it. Life had been nothing but misery since leaving his clan and going back wasn’t an option anymore. She led him through back alleys and darkened streets that the snow hadn’t quite managed to blanket yet. It was strange. He remembered walking past people but none reacted to him and the girl. Where were they headed?

Eventually they stopped at a doorway that looked just like many others they had walked past. The girl knocked a strange pattern and the door swung back revealing a rather warm looking interior. He noticed that none of the light seemed to spill past the threshold. What was going on?

“Come!” The girl said again before skipping inside. He shrugged and followed.

“Ah! A guest. Giselle tells me that you have an ear for music. Play an instrument yourself?”

The Ratkin blinked at the immediate question from someone he couldn’t yet see. “No.... I..... I try and write poetry.”

“Poetry? Interesting. And what inspired this?” The voice was getting closer.

The Ratkin sighed. “Looking at the arcane books I was forbidden from touching. The way things seemed to always be written in odd ways and not straightforward instructions.”

A laugh. “Ah! Some of the old coots never tire of making their books into more riddle than magic. Loosing some wonderful spells and tinctures that way, because they feel more inclined to keeping their secrets than making sure others learn the craft. Name’s Noxwell. And you are most certainly the most interesting person I’ve had enter my little shop in a long while.”

“Er.... Prekk..... that is.... I’m called Prekk, at least in Skritt.”

“Skritt? Not familiar, but unlike some of those old coots I mentioned I never bother to pretend I know it all. A fine name for a fine gentleman.”

“I....”

“Nonsense. Giselle excels at reading people Prekk, no denying your heart or the fact that a great capability for malice lies within you also.”

Prekk slumped a little. “I’m sorry...... I...”

More laughter. “Nonsense. You are who you are. You did not need to offer Giselle your food yet you did so. I sense the Malice will only be turned against those that truly deserve it.” The voice finally came into the light and Prekk could see a rotund man, balding but with a long white beard. “Well? Do I look like I sound?”

Prekk considered this. “With what you have told me I think you and Giselle can look like whatever you wish. Plus I’m a giant rat trying to make my way as a poet. Nothing in this world is what it seems.”

More laughter. “Good, good. Now here’s the thing would you gift us with one of your poems and in return we shall grant you something that will help you.”

“Do I get to know what it is beforehand?”

Noxwell seemed to consider this. “Worried about making deals with strangers?”

Prekk smiled. “You have basically confirmed yourselves to be shapeshifters, Fae I would suspect at this point, and that would make you notorious for offering deals with unexpected downsides.”

“Well. Aren’t you quite the clever mortal? Why follow Giselle then?”

Prekk shrugged. “Curiosity, a lack of care for what happens to me, some mad urge? Who knows? I am just glad to be out of the snow, if only for a little while.”

“You are most curious.”

“Thank you. Guess with what I’ve said it makes my questioning the deal all the more..... moot. I will trade my art for yours.”

“Art?”

“Is that not what was offered?”

Noxwell smiled broadly, his teeth were just as pointed as the girl’s. “Art thou sure of this mortal?”

Prekk nodded. “Yes.”

“Then by all means. Show us your art.”

“There are those that while away, In shadows and in between, The very threads that Fate tries to weave, And would rather be unseen.

Beauty have they that live this way, But far beyond the norm. Cold as Ice, cruel as fate, Yet somehow remaining warm.

Deals they make, trades they like, But be wary for they try, To catch you while you’re unaware, But they never lie.

Power lies within those hands, And if you are nice, It will be granted to thee, But for a terrible price.

So wary be of deals you make, With those that hide this way For lives will change when you doth meet, A member of the Fae.”

Prekk bowed a little after finishing and looked at Noxwell trying to gauge his reaction. The old man’s grin seemed to grow wider.

“Splendid. Well remembered.”

“Not remembered. Written, well spoken. I suppose I should write that down.”

Noxwell frowned. “I thought for sure......” He waved a hand and a book leapt into it. He flipped through its pages. “Well.....” He lowered the book. “Master Prekk.” He bowed low. “That is indeed a fine example of your art. I’m afraid that you will never be able to write that down, part of the deal I’m afraid.”

Prekk nodded. “Well I am glad that you are happy.”

“Indubitably. That was wonderful and not rehearsed. No, it is true art that thou hast given us this day. You have earned yourself a boon today. What do you seek?”

“To be successful with my poetry and be strong enough that no one will be more powerful that I.”

“Interesting. The first is easy, I shall merely give you a starting point. As for the second Giselle has something for you.”

Prekk spotted the girl again and she had in her hands a box. She offered it to him. He took it. Inside was a bracelet made to look like a coiling snake. “What is this?” He asked.

Giselle smiled. “A tool to teach you about power.”

“Ok. How do I put it on?”

“It’s magic. It will fit you.”

“Ok.” he looked a little unsure but plucked it from the box with his right hand, it immediately slithered around his wrist and grew tight. “AHH!” He dropped the box and collapsed to his knees as the snake seemingly tried to squeeze his hand off his arm. His breath came in gasps but eventually the pain subsided and the bracelet settled into a better fit. “How......?” he began.

The girl just smiled. “You will learn in time.”

Prekk just nodded. He had just made a deal with the Fae. Who knew where his life would lead next.

Noxwell helped him back to his feet and gave him a sealed letter. “Take this to the Bard college in Weirvas this will get you started on the path you seek, but be warned this path is hard and will try to break you.”

“Nothing is ever easy is it?”

Noxwell laughed. “No it is not. Beware though you have entertained me and thus I may well call upon you again.”

“More art trades?”

“Perhaps, we shall see. For now you need rest and food. That we shall provide, free of any bargains or plays for power. There will be much time for that later in your life.”

...

He reached out and touched the snake bracelet on his right wrist. It had indeed taught him a great deal, it may prevent him from getting physically stronger but that merely taught him to rely on his other strengths. He smiled as the memories faded away slowly, an old life complete with an old name. He was Prekk no longer. Now he was Maximus Delapore and no amount of idiotic bullying would prevent him from achieving his goals.

(Right..... that took an interesting turn and made me write a brief poem. Cool. I am definitely liking writing for Maximus a lot. Thanks again to @thenightofthelivingwriters for the prompts and the usual tags for Maximus of @the-bearded-hylian and @jaimistoryteller and a big thanks to all the writers out there creating worlds and characters. Keep on kicking words and taking adjectives!)

#TNLW #the night of the living writers #D&D Character #Maximus Delapore #My Writing #Yay Writing #what will be next?

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