Kellryia - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“The Bard”, a mysterious and a bit confusing choice of nickname. I’d never known anyone to hide their real name before. People who did in stories were usually up to no good and were hiding their identity for nefarious reasons.

Bards were folk who traveled frequently, performing to the common people for money. They were charismatic, mischievous, and sometimes deceptive, charming people with their magical songs.

By the way he was dressed, shiny buttons and high quality fabric, and the fact that he had dubbed himself The Bard, as if he were the only one worth knowing, he was well known and successful.

I must have hit my head really hard when I landed in the bottom of the cave. It couldn’t be coincidence that I met a bard in my dream, since I was just talking with Ethan about bards. I must be in a coma, because I’d never had a dream that lasted this long before.

The sun was setting now, and Mrs. Salisbury had gone home to her husband. Even though she insisted that I take the rest of the night off, I assured her that I wanted to finish stitching this dress first.

Try as I may to ignore it and bury myself with work, the memory of The Bard’s voice and face distracted me. The way he had moved so quickly, I couldn’t attribute that to a trick of my eyes. He had crossed the room within a second, and without making a sound. In this world, being able to teleport short distances wasn’t unheard of, but still, it was rare. Kellryia was naturally imbued with magic and some people could harness these powers, but most could not.

As much as going to the inn down the street tempted me, just to sleep in a bed, I didn’t want The Bard getting any ideas. He certainly knew how to get under my skin, and that frustrated me further. Sewing unfortunately didn’t occupy my mind, but there was nothing else available to do.

Lighting a lamp so I wouldn’t keep pricking my fingers, I started to become paranoid. The flame cast shadows on the wall that would occasionally move, and I would think there was something inside moving about. I wouldn’t say I was afraid of the dark, but afraid of the unknown, and being a consistent worrier didn’t help.

In this magical world, I feared that anything could and would happen. That someone could suddenly appear, like The Bard could, and do heaven knows what to me.

I rose to triple check the doors and windows were locked, though it probably wouldn’t do me any good if someone really wanted inside. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when I confused the reflection in the window for someone else.

Returning to the table, shaken, I returned to sewing, jumping at any sound, no matter how small, fearing the worst, and going to investigate the sound, inevitably finding nothing. Thoughts turned to Ethan and his family, how they and some rescue crew were probably looking for me. I wondered if Ethan would actually be worried, though I was sure he would be. Somewhere deep down he really cared about me, he just had a hard time expressing it, a lot.

I missed him now, more out of routine than anything. Just knowing he was near was enough to comfort me, and now that he wasn’t with me, there was a void. He would be laughing at me, if he was here, at my paranoia, but then he would calm me and tell me there was nothing to be worried about.

Little by little, I would lean further into the table, at first resting my forearms on the edge, then laying my arm along the top, resting my head on my arm. My eyelids became too heavy to hold open any longer, so I rested them for a moment, determined to keep working after a break.

Suddenly I was outside in the snow, everything hazy. The Bard was next to me, whispering things in my ear, his smile shining brilliantly. “Come away with me, I can help you.”

Trusting him, and in his ability to help me, I smiled. “Where will we go?”

Distracted with flirting with me, he didn’t know we were found. “Run,” he said. I turned to see Ella standing with her guards, armed and ready to arrest me. This was more a feeling, rather than being told this.

Never had I ever imagined being afraid of Ella, one of the holiest and most selfless of people. But she looked menacing and determined as she glared at me now. I turned to run, but I was grabbed by her guards, supernaturally fast.

As quickly as I was taken, I was released, The Bard knocking them back with a wave of his hand. I stumbled out of the area and ran as fast as I could, which was comically slow, as if in slow motion. I had no idea where I was running to, but I ran as I was told.

“Attacking the servants of Alton, carrying His authority on the mortal realm, is an attack on Alton himself!” called Ella, clearly shocked that The Bard had interfered.

“Let Him come, and I’ll deal with Him personally,” the Bard taunted.

“Meet Him at the Godlands, and He would happily deal with you there.”

“Ha! This is my realm. Never would I challenge Him to a fight on His. It’s not like He’s never embodied a human before, and in essence, interfered with human life. What a hypocrite! He can break the rules, and I can’t?”

Ella pressed on. “The girl knows too much, we will take her into our custody.”

“We’ll see about that.”

The Bard unexpectedly appeared, and ran along side me. “She’ll never stop hunting you.”

I realized he shouldn’t know about my encounter with Ella that occurred earlier. “How do you know so much about me?”

Smiling he said, “I know everything concerning your fate, Lillian.”

***

I woke with a pain in my neck and my back aching. The sun was shining through the windows and into my eyes, blinding me temporarily. Shielding the light with my hand, I saw that the room was exactly the way I left it the night before. I was still in the back room of The Red Hat.

I was startled as the figure of Mrs. Salisbury walked into the room. “My goodness child, did you fall asleep here last night?”

Giving her a pathetic smile, I nodded and combed my hair with my fingers, still disconcerted from my dream.

“Oh dear, you certainly got a lot of work done,” she smiled at me. “It would appear that I’ll be able to start your dress presently.”

“That would be great,” I said, regretting I couldn’t sound more enthusiastic so early in the morning.

“Here, let me show you some sketches, and you can decide the style.” She quickly fetched a leather bound book and flipped the pages. “You’ll want one that laces in the front.” Glancing over at me, she added, “And some undergarments. I’ll have you work on those today. I have some patterns you can use, ‘tis very simple.”

Going through the book, I decided on a front-laced dress with a square neckline and long sleeves. “I like this one here,” I said.

“Very good, now come choose a fabric.” She led me over to her stacked bolts of a variety of colored and quality of fabrics. The silks, velvets, satins and damasks I ignored, looking for a practical and durable fabric for everyday wear. My hand fell on a very nice bolt of wool that was solid navy blue that I thought would do well in the cold weather. “A fine choice, I should have this done by midday, I’ll get you the patterns and fabric for your underclothes.”

My fingers I realized were disinclined to work properly due to overwork yesterday, but I managed to make them cooperate. I had just finished cutting out the fabric when my stomach grumbled loud enough for the whole of Aldenshire to hear.

“Was that you, Mrs. Kerr?” she asked, amusement in her voice.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes.”

“You may go fetch some food from the tavern across the way.”

Glancing at my current attire, I grimaced. “I’d prefer to keep working, Mrs. Salisbury.”

“If you insist. As I haven’t eaten either, I think I’ll go get us something. You’ll be alright without me?”

I nodded, “Yes, I can handle the store while you’re gone.”

I began pinning the pieces of fabric together to be sewn as Mrs. Salisbury left, the bell ringing as she closed the door behind her. The chemise and drawers were basic and unembellished, which suited me fine. No one was going to see my underwear anyway.

The bell rang as the front door was opened again, too soon. Mrs. Salisbury may have forgotten something perhaps. The footsteps were slow and light as they progressed towards the back of the store. They were steady, as if they had no intention of stopping. My suspicions were verified as I turned to see the man I met yesterday, smiling down on me.

“Good morning, Lillian.”

“Mrs. Kerr,” I corrected. I didn’t like the pleasure he gained by saying my name.

He ignored me. “What are we making this morning?”

Of course I would be working on underwear the day he chose to visit again. His face appeared innocent, but he knew very well what I was sewing. I childishly put them under another pile of clothes I had hemmed yesterday and said, “They are lady’s undergarments, and it is inappropriate for you to see them.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, but if you must.”

I realized I hadn’t anything to occupy myself with now and immediately regretted my decision to hide them away. The way he looked as if he was resisting laughing, perhaps I had saved myself from further discussion of underwear. Same as yesterday, I had a hard time looking in his direction for too long, though I wanted to inspect him further.

He slowly strode around the table until he was before me and stood completely still. I met his eyes and they were locked with his for a moment. It was the longest amount of time I had ever had the chance to gaze upon him. My heart would have normally hammered in my chest, but again his presence was soothing and hypnotic. His eyes were bright and golden as they smiled.

My eyes moved to his lips as he said, “Take as long as you desire.” It startled me to learn that he knew I wanted to look at him. Was my face that readable? “’Tis normal to be confused. You’ll understand soon enough. But before I explain, I want you to answer a question for me.”

Curiosity alone made me say, “Alright.”

Bluntly, he asked, “Do you want my help?”

Confused was right, he was confusing me more and more. “Help? With what?”

He grinned at my ignorance, and then in a flash he was beside me whispering in my ear. “You had a dream last night, yes?”

Curiosity wanted to ask how he knew about the details of my dream, but I didn’t want to be confused further. Instead, I nodded my head, understanding what he meant now. Slowly, I turned my head finding his face inches from mine. Distracted by the flawless beauty of his features, I forgot what we were talking about.

“Do you want my help?” he asked again.

Any help at all I would do almost anything for. Key word, almost. “What’s the catch?”

Laughing, he leaned in close to me. “I’m sure I’ll think of some way for you to repay me, but do you really want to waste time bartering?”

I couldn’t know which option was worse, so I had to take my chances with this personified perfection who was willing to help me.

“Yes, I want your help.”

“I’ll explain it tonight, I’ll be at the Blue Dragon Inn.” His lips tickled my ear as he whispered into it, “Farewell, my dear.”

He was gone before the bell rang of the front door opening, his missing presence leaving me shaken. I didn’t know what he wanted from me, but I assumed the worst, and hoped for the best. Trying not to think too much about how much he knew about me and how he knew it, I gathered the hidden undergarments. So much for no one ever seeing them.

Mrs. Salisbury returned with food, but I was too distracted to note what it was that I began to eat. Hopefully Mrs. Salisbury attributed my silence to the early hour.

Memories of last night’s dream played over and over in my mind. The Bard had told me to run from Ella and run I would. With his help, hopefully she would never catch up.

After pricking my fingers several times, I managed to finish the chemise and drawers. Mrs. Salisbury had enough finished for me to try it on, so I donned the newly made underwear and dress. The undergarments were suitable enough and the dress was nearly perfect.

“You look lovely, dear. I’ll just take this in a bit and it’ll be ready to wear.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Salisbury.” She was doing me a huge favor, and I didn’t know how to repay her.

“No trouble, child. ‘Twill be good to see you in proper clothes.”

My appearance had to have looked out of place, as if I were wearing men’s clothing. Looking proper would allow me to blend in more, hopefully escaping detection, and I would look normal.

“Yes, I’ll be glad of it too. I’m planning to see The Bard at the inn tonight.”

“You may leave a little early, since you worked so hard yesterday.”

Smiling, I said, “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”

Mrs. Salisbury finished my dress while I continued with finishing other items. Before I knew it the sun was falling and I hurried to put on my new clothes. My boots were clunky and were thankfully hidden by the skirts of the dress. Mrs. Salisbury braided my shoulder-length brown hair and tied it with a ribbon of a matching navy blue, and I was finally presentable.

“It would do you some good to sleep in a bed tonight, Mrs. Kerr.”

“I’ll see that I do, Mrs. Salisbury.” And nowhere near The Bard, I added mentally. “See you tomorrow.”

Stepping out of the store, the wind swept my skirts against my legs. Thankfully they were long and heavy enough to not get blown upward to expose my drawers. The snow had been packed into the earth with the heavy foot traffic, so I didn’t have much trouble making it to the inn down the street.

The Blue Dragon Inn was a wooden building with glass windows, a sign that this was a fancy establishment. As I opened the door, the warmth of the fireplace blew over me and I quickly shut out the cold. There were a few people inside, an employee stood behind his counter, the registration book in front of him, and some other humans that were sitting in the common room in front of the fire. I admired the artwork on the walls, oil landscapes with dragons as the main subject, some blue, some copper.

Dragons were magnificent creatures, though rare. Depending on their color they were prone to have a certain disposition. Copper Dragons were my favorite, they were both beautiful and good natured. Some colors I knew that were likely to kill were red and black, the red using fire and the black using poison.

The man behind the counter greeted me. “Good afternoon, madam. May I assist you?”

Approaching the counter I said, my voice wavering a bit, “Yes, um, I’m here to see the Bard.”

“Your name, please?”

“My name?”

“Yes, madam, security measures.”

What kind of place was this inn? The Hilton? Agreeing to his stupid rules, I gave him my name. “I’m Mrs. Lillian Kerr.”

“Yes, he is expecting you.” Waving his hand, there was a faint noise from the room behind him and a young man emerged. Turning to him, he added, “Please take Mrs. Kerr to the Dragon’s Lair.”

If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was themes. Seriously? The Dragon’s Lair? Why was it so difficult to number the rooms? The name of this room disturbed me, like this place was some sort of deviant whore house.

Attempting to control my hesitation, I followed the young man up the stairs and to the end of the hall. Thankfully the outside of the door looked normal. My escort knocked on the door in an odd pattern, as if it were code, and a voice sounded from the other side. Murmuring a few words, the man waved his hand a bit and opened the door, his hand never on the handle.

As I walked through the threshold, I saw a pair of wingback armchairs before the fireplace, upholstered in grey velvet. The carpet beneath them was a subtle pattern of blues that contrasted the oak flooring nicely. There was also an adjoining room and part of the room separated by a paneled changing screen for privacy. Since the curtains were drawn, the light was low, and I almost didn’t see the Bard as he emerged from behind the screen.

“Good afternoon Lillian,” he said cheerfully. “I’m so glad you decided to come.” Smiling broadly, he approached me and took my hands in his.

“Mrs. Kerr,” I corrected him as I rudely withdrew my hands.

Clearly seeing my unpleasant reaction, he said, “Mrs. Kerr, yes of course. Please, sit.” His arm arched out towards the chairs before the fire.

Taking a seat, I asked, “Would you explain how you know that I’m hiding from Ella?”

A surprised look crossed his face and he sat opposite me. “I am very well, thank you for asking, and you?” He grinned as he saw that his sarcasm wasn’t found humorous.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. He did have a point, my manners were severely lacking. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually this stressed.”

“Yes, I can’t imagine anyone so tense for long. I won’t ask you about it, I know you won’t tell me why.”

My body froze. He knowing that I couldn’t tell him the truth about my circumstances only made me more stressed.

Chuckling, he added, “I wouldn’t tell a complete stranger either, I’m not offended.” Folding his hands, he continued, “It is best if I not tell you how I know about Ella, it’ll only put more strain on you.”

I nodded, agreeing that he was probably right. “Okay, another question then. How are you going to help?”

“I’m going to help you help yourself, if you’ll allow me to.”

Not understanding what he meant exactly by this, I said, “Help myself how?”

“That will come with time, but let us play a game.” Reaching into a small bag at his waist, he withdrew what appeared to be a neck of a string instrument. He extended his hand until a whole lute emerged from the pouch, an extra dimensional bag that could hold more than it appeared it should. Holding the lute in his lap, he plucked the strings for a moment and made adjustments to the tautness.

“A game?” I asked, wondering how this was going to help me.

He began to play a cheerful upbeat song, one good for dances. His fingers were precise and skillful, but occasionally there was a note that sounded wrong. As I watched more closely, I realized it was the same string every time. He finished the song and looked to me expectantly.

“Are you sure you tuned that?”

Smiling, he said, “Good ears, excellent.”

“Excellent?”

“Yes, now, what exactly was the problem?”

“Why are you asking me?” A musician of his experience surely would know what the problem was. “Are you testing me or something?”

“Doesn’t take you long to catch on,” he said, chuckling.

Sighing, I asked myself why he would be testing my musical talent, but I was sure he had a good reason. It was looking like he wanted to teach me something, and I was always one who loved to learn new things. Leaning forward I pointed out the string that was out of tune. “This one.”

“Correct, was it flat or sharp?”

Now I figured he was testing my knowledge of the terminology. Flat was if the note was low, sharp if it was high. The string was too low. “Flat.”

“Good, so you have been trained in music already?”

I had been in choir and band in high school, so I had a solid foundation. “Yes, but I haven’t practiced in several years.”

“Sing me something.”

My voice was nothing special, and I knew it. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wouldn’t be anything close to it. Nervous, I tried to convince him that I wasn’t very good. “I haven’t sung in a while, and my voice is mediocre. I don’t think-”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Looking at him, as much as I could without looking away, I could see that he was going to be persistent about this. We could sit here all evening and he would still want me to sing him something. I mentally flipped through all the songs that I knew, trying to find one that would be a good choice for my voice, one that would be complex enough to show him my range. Songs from Les Miserables captured my interest, though they were difficult to sing. I wanted to try “I Dreamed a Dream”.

I stood and walked to the window, opening the curtain to look out. The sun was beginning to set and cast an orange glow on the people walking outside. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that he was expectantly waiting. I took a deep breath and tried not to tremble. Singing in front of others was something I never really got comfortable doing. I turned to the window and pretended he wasn’t there.

The song was a ballad, starting low and used one constant note for several measures. It would be an easy start, a way to test my voice. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

The next part of the song became mildly more difficult, using some dips and jumps, but the same phrase of notes were repeated.

My voice was stronger than I remembered it, not weak and quiet as it used to be. It was like there was someone else singing. Filled with confidence, I continued the next several measures, the same as the previous.

I was pleased with how I was doing so far, but I was to the difficult part now, full of accidentals, notes that were not part of the original key. This section would also test my lower range, something I was not strong in, as well as my higher range, with a crescendo at the end as it scaled upward.

Amazingly, I managed to hold the note with the power that was close to an opera singer. I repeated the following phrases the same as the first, not worrying about screwing up the song anymore, focusing on the emotion of the song.

Continuing through the key change with no problem, I sang with more passion and command than I knew I had.

Ending the song, quiet as the beginning, I whispered the last phrase as an uncontrollable melancholy washed over me, the words hitting home. I thought of Ethan, how I’d wanted to be happy with him, how I’d dreamt of having my life with him, but things don’t always worked out the way you want.

I bowed my head, trying to keep the tears from falling, avoiding the Bard. Glancing to the door, I sought escape, and moved toward it. The Bard was standing in front of the door before I even took a step.

Kellryia - Chapter 3  (13+) Lillian begins her sword fighting training with The Bard. #1646921 by Goldfish