The Lonely Bard

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“The stars above are glowing brighter than normal…” announced a voice that weaved through branches of towering oaks, a voice that sounded like chimes, musical and cheery. But a tinge of sadness hung in the echo of his melodic statement, a flat in his string of notes. Loneliness was a great weakness for Moonin; his nomadic ways often unnerved others. Companions he wished of having simply refused even the thought of leaving home and possibly never returning. Stars far and wide were his only friends, visiting him at night and comforting his thoughts from the hours before of tiresome travelling. In fact, stars fit him quite fine as being his company, a lie he used constantly to brighten his spirits after a long day. Often times, he would stare at the lights of the twinkling stars for hours on end, muttering as if having a conversation with them. Moonin had travelled many miles before finally obtaining the companion he sought after and this is where the tale begins.

Yawning emerged through the quiet forest as young Moonin Ruse awoke from a deep sleep filled with adventure, quite similar to his current life. However, in this dream Moonin had a full crowd of friends surrounding him as they fought off giant ravens taking their perch in the oaks he often slept around when in a forest. The ravens had eventually evaporated into black foggy smoke as the dream reached its end, and the friends that surrounded him vanished as well, leaving Moonin watching their receding figures float up through the night air and into the waning crescent moon. Dreams similar to this one occurred frequently throughout the boy’s life on the road, a reminder of his seemingly eternal loneliness. He trudged ever forward, though, believing that someday he would meet a person like him that could travel with him till death. After all, he couldn’t stop travelling; such was a bard’s wandering ways, impossible to defy. Moonin had already given his oath to forever follow the path of the bard, which was an everlasting journey to every location in the world. Bards are people who are very musical and creative, often using music and storytelling as entertainment, but a bard may never rest until having reached every city in the world.

Stretching, Moonin gathered up his supplies, which consisted of his rucksack filled with bread, water, and dry meat, and his rapier. He strapped the thin blade to his brown leather belt, and fastened his lute [a musical instrument similar to a guitar] to his back. His platinum blonde hair swished in the wind, along with his crimson tunic as he set off into the sun-spotted forest path ahead. Guarded on both sides by closely set oaks, Moonin headed off through, singing a merry little tune known as “Praise Nature” by the Wood Elves of the west. Flawless sound came from his mouth, flowing soothingly in the air and weaving in and out of the canopy above. Moonin raised his left hand, and in a musical manner swung his arm from the left to the right, looping in the middle. Wind soared from the east and made the bushes sway adding their crackly tone, afterwards in which Moonin got a bit carried away. Both his hands deftly darted this way and that, sending bursts of wind through the trees. Magic ran through Moonin’s veins, and allowed him to manipulate the elements at his command.

Suddenly, Moonin heard a splitting sound other than the cacophony of music around him, and in instinct he pulled his rapier from the blade’s place on his belt. Crack, the twigs broke around him, signaling a being, and Moonin had a bad feeling the sound hadn’t come from an animal. Then, out of the blue, a young lady sung a C, a high C to be exact, as she sauntered across the dirt path in front of him. Moonin watched in confusion, and followed closely behind. The lady looked around his age, and didn’t seem to notice him at all, as if she was in some sort of trance. After a few paces she spun around with an odd sort of grin, and laughed.

“I’m so glad to see a fellow bard around!” Moonin exclaimed, a little cautious. The lady scanned his features and the rapier in his hand. Her eyes darted from the weapon to the bard’s face, and she gave him a lovely smile. She seemed friendly enough, and Moonin wouldn’t give up the chance to finally have a companion. The lady was also dazzlingly beautiful with her auburn hair and golden eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” She stuttered, “I haven’t told you my name. It’s Lyanne… And you are?” Moonin stared at her, confusedly at first, and then blurted his name after comprehending the question. Moonin decided to go in for the kill – asking her to join him “Hey, since we’re both here and by ourselves, would you like to come with me. You’re a bard too, I’m guessing, so we have a long time till we finish our pilgrimage, and I was wondering if you’d like to…”

“Journey together? Oh yes! Yes please! You have a nice voice I’d love to have you around, of course. So… shall we set off?” Lyanne gave her pretty smile, and brandished her arm out for Moonin to take it. He decided she couldn’t be against him, unless she was a very good actress. Either way Moonin couldn’t resist, he felt a feeling deep inside he had never felt before. The young bard shook Lyanne’s hand, then twisted his index finger down and then back up, like a hook. This was a sign of friendship in bardic history, and thus friendship they gained. Chatting like two old friends, they recounted their adventures as they walked slowly down the path, sharing an emotion much more than companionship.





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