BF Entry: All-Stars
Wooooo! I did it! busted this thing out in a couple hours. Hopefully there's nothing too glaringly wrong with it. Anyway, this is a continuation of my entry from week one. i don't think it's necessary to read week one, but in case anyone wants to the link is here
Word count is1204 -- a VAST improvement over last week's epic length story. Hope everyone enjoys and thanks for reading!
Sacha had never been farther than a long walk from Tuluth before. The woods that ran wide around the fields were reportedly infested with thieves and bandits, making it very dangerous for anyone to wander into. Only a handful of villagers had any knowledge of what lay beyond that. They all knew that the lord’s lands were somewhere out there, but other than that it was a complete mystery.
He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was just as nervous as the younger novices. The leafy canopy overhead was so thick that he couldn’t tell if it was day or night. Every crack of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush made his muscles tense further. Vikton and a girl whose name he didn’t know were the youngest to have passed Auditions and were so frightened they were close to tears. He could feel the little girl’s arms tremble around his neck as she whimpered into his shoulder. He’d been carrying her since entering the forest, when she’d frozen in place and refused to step into the shadows.
Sacha gave her a little bounce against his side, causing her to look at him with wide, watery eyes. He smiled and hoped it was convincing in its confidence. “It’s not all that bad in here,” he said.
“Yes, it is,” she mumbled back. Something shifted in the branches overhead, causing her to gasp and quickly bury her face against him once more.
He didn’t know what to say to that. It was hard trying to be brave when he too felt uneasy about the dark tree. He was about to just let her continue trembling when Kessandra sped up to walk alongside him. She was carrying Vikton on her back, who, unlike his fellow novices, was looking around the woods with an oddly curious expression.
“He’s right, y’know,” she said, smiling brightly as the girl peeked at her warily. “These woods here are full of music. That means they can’t be bad.”
“Papa says music is evil,” the butcher’s daughter chimed in disapprovingly. It was the first time she’d spoken since the Auditions.
If it bothered Kessandra to hear that, it didn’t show. If anything, her smile widened further as she shrugged. “Well, I like it. And you probably do too, deep down. You just haven’t been able to show it before.”
The girl glanced away quickly. There was a moment of silence before she admitted softly, “I like listening to the river. It… It sounds pretty.”
“I really like hearin’ th’ wind in th’ field grass,” Vikton chimed in. He giggled when Kessandra cast an approving grin over her shoulder at him.
“Once, I blew across the top of a glass jug,” Sacha volunteered. “It made this really high, wispy sound.”
The girl lifted her head from his shoulder. “I did that once, too,” she said. Her dark eyes were now shining almost excitedly at discovering she was with others who understood her.
“I sat underneath the bridge and listened to people walking by,” an older boy with auburn hair and loads of freckles said. “I used to go there when my pa and ma got in one of their fights. Used to make me feel better, y’know? Like it kinda went inside’a me and made all the bad stuff go away.”
There were a few sympathizing nods from the others in their group, Troubadours included. Sacha knew very well what the boy was talking about. When he’d been younger and things had been rough, he used to go off and sit out in the middle of one of the fields, close his eyes, and just listen to the world. He’d take in the rhythm of the village - the many voices and sounds of daily activity - and blend it with the easy harmony of nature until all he could hear was each rise and fall in the sound, each quickening and slowing of the tempo. When his mother had gotten sick, it had been this habit that had kept him going for her.
It was strange and more than a little comforting to know he hadn’t been the only one.
“Music has a way of making itself known. Whatever form you need it to take, it will,” the dark skinned woman, Noemi, replied softly. Her voice was low for a woman and carried a calmness that seemed almost tangible.
“What’s that mean?” Vikton asked, craning his neck so as to stare at the back of the older woman’s head.
“It means,” Kessandra explained, “that if you’re feeling scared, music can make you brave again. And if you’re sad, music can make you happy.”
The boy’s eyes widened with interest. “Really?”
She laughed and said, “Really. How about we give it a try?”
Kartach turned just enough to level a sharp look in her direction. “This probably isn’t the right time or place for a first lesson, Kess.”
Before the blonde girl could reply, Noemi placed a hand on Kartach’s arm and said, “There is never a wrong time for music.” She looked back over her shoulder and smiled. “Go ahead, child.”
Kessandra, beaming happily, closed her eyes and concentrated on the forest around them. After a moment, she opened them and said, “Can anyone else hear that soft tapping sound? Listen: tap … tap … tap….”
Sacha’s brow furrowed as he strained to hear the sound she was pointing out. She continued keeping time, her voice dropping into a whisper. Finally, he heard it: the faint tap of water dripping onto wood. It was a steady, beating pulse that, once filtered through his head, seemed to permeate through his entire body. Without realizing it, his feet fell into time with the tapping sound.
“There’s a bird somewhere up above,” the butcher’s daughter offered quietly. “It’s going chip, chir-chirp. Chip, chir-chirp.”
Sure enough, it was and soon its warble joined the tapping of water in the forest, adding a new layer to the wood song.
A breeze started then, ruffling his hair and moving through the canopy. He closed his eyes and savored the rushing rustle. It was a low sound, but it was getting louder. The gentle tapping kept the beat, but it was in the background now. The bird’s chirps cut through it all, providing a much needed break and falling in a counter-rhythm to the water.
The familiar sensation of the sounds seeping into his skin took over him and he let himself go to it freely. He could feel each tap, each chirp, each shift of the breeze as if it were a part of him, as if the rhythm was being carried in his blood. It took away the fear and uncertainty, leaving him feeling lighter than he had in years. Any doubts he’d had about saying goodbye to his life in Tuluth were swept away in the natural music of the woods.
When his eyes opened again, he almost felt like a completely new person. He felt Kessandra looking at him and turned to her, meeting her smile with one of his own. “Pretty neat, huh? How the smallest sound can create something so big?” she asked.
Sacha nodded and let out a contented sigh. “Yeah, it is.”
Word count is1204 -- a VAST improvement over last week's epic length story. Hope everyone enjoys and thanks for reading!
Sacha had never been farther than a long walk from Tuluth before. The woods that ran wide around the fields were reportedly infested with thieves and bandits, making it very dangerous for anyone to wander into. Only a handful of villagers had any knowledge of what lay beyond that. They all knew that the lord’s lands were somewhere out there, but other than that it was a complete mystery.
He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was just as nervous as the younger novices. The leafy canopy overhead was so thick that he couldn’t tell if it was day or night. Every crack of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush made his muscles tense further. Vikton and a girl whose name he didn’t know were the youngest to have passed Auditions and were so frightened they were close to tears. He could feel the little girl’s arms tremble around his neck as she whimpered into his shoulder. He’d been carrying her since entering the forest, when she’d frozen in place and refused to step into the shadows.
Sacha gave her a little bounce against his side, causing her to look at him with wide, watery eyes. He smiled and hoped it was convincing in its confidence. “It’s not all that bad in here,” he said.
“Yes, it is,” she mumbled back. Something shifted in the branches overhead, causing her to gasp and quickly bury her face against him once more.
He didn’t know what to say to that. It was hard trying to be brave when he too felt uneasy about the dark tree. He was about to just let her continue trembling when Kessandra sped up to walk alongside him. She was carrying Vikton on her back, who, unlike his fellow novices, was looking around the woods with an oddly curious expression.
“He’s right, y’know,” she said, smiling brightly as the girl peeked at her warily. “These woods here are full of music. That means they can’t be bad.”
“Papa says music is evil,” the butcher’s daughter chimed in disapprovingly. It was the first time she’d spoken since the Auditions.
If it bothered Kessandra to hear that, it didn’t show. If anything, her smile widened further as she shrugged. “Well, I like it. And you probably do too, deep down. You just haven’t been able to show it before.”
The girl glanced away quickly. There was a moment of silence before she admitted softly, “I like listening to the river. It… It sounds pretty.”
“I really like hearin’ th’ wind in th’ field grass,” Vikton chimed in. He giggled when Kessandra cast an approving grin over her shoulder at him.
“Once, I blew across the top of a glass jug,” Sacha volunteered. “It made this really high, wispy sound.”
The girl lifted her head from his shoulder. “I did that once, too,” she said. Her dark eyes were now shining almost excitedly at discovering she was with others who understood her.
“I sat underneath the bridge and listened to people walking by,” an older boy with auburn hair and loads of freckles said. “I used to go there when my pa and ma got in one of their fights. Used to make me feel better, y’know? Like it kinda went inside’a me and made all the bad stuff go away.”
There were a few sympathizing nods from the others in their group, Troubadours included. Sacha knew very well what the boy was talking about. When he’d been younger and things had been rough, he used to go off and sit out in the middle of one of the fields, close his eyes, and just listen to the world. He’d take in the rhythm of the village - the many voices and sounds of daily activity - and blend it with the easy harmony of nature until all he could hear was each rise and fall in the sound, each quickening and slowing of the tempo. When his mother had gotten sick, it had been this habit that had kept him going for her.
It was strange and more than a little comforting to know he hadn’t been the only one.
“Music has a way of making itself known. Whatever form you need it to take, it will,” the dark skinned woman, Noemi, replied softly. Her voice was low for a woman and carried a calmness that seemed almost tangible.
“What’s that mean?” Vikton asked, craning his neck so as to stare at the back of the older woman’s head.
“It means,” Kessandra explained, “that if you’re feeling scared, music can make you brave again. And if you’re sad, music can make you happy.”
The boy’s eyes widened with interest. “Really?”
She laughed and said, “Really. How about we give it a try?”
Kartach turned just enough to level a sharp look in her direction. “This probably isn’t the right time or place for a first lesson, Kess.”
Before the blonde girl could reply, Noemi placed a hand on Kartach’s arm and said, “There is never a wrong time for music.” She looked back over her shoulder and smiled. “Go ahead, child.”
Kessandra, beaming happily, closed her eyes and concentrated on the forest around them. After a moment, she opened them and said, “Can anyone else hear that soft tapping sound? Listen: tap … tap … tap….”
Sacha’s brow furrowed as he strained to hear the sound she was pointing out. She continued keeping time, her voice dropping into a whisper. Finally, he heard it: the faint tap of water dripping onto wood. It was a steady, beating pulse that, once filtered through his head, seemed to permeate through his entire body. Without realizing it, his feet fell into time with the tapping sound.
“There’s a bird somewhere up above,” the butcher’s daughter offered quietly. “It’s going chip, chir-chirp. Chip, chir-chirp.”
Sure enough, it was and soon its warble joined the tapping of water in the forest, adding a new layer to the wood song.
A breeze started then, ruffling his hair and moving through the canopy. He closed his eyes and savored the rushing rustle. It was a low sound, but it was getting louder. The gentle tapping kept the beat, but it was in the background now. The bird’s chirps cut through it all, providing a much needed break and falling in a counter-rhythm to the water.
The familiar sensation of the sounds seeping into his skin took over him and he let himself go to it freely. He could feel each tap, each chirp, each shift of the breeze as if it were a part of him, as if the rhythm was being carried in his blood. It took away the fear and uncertainty, leaving him feeling lighter than he had in years. Any doubts he’d had about saying goodbye to his life in Tuluth were swept away in the natural music of the woods.
When his eyes opened again, he almost felt like a completely new person. He felt Kessandra looking at him and turned to her, meeting her smile with one of his own. “Pretty neat, huh? How the smallest sound can create something so big?” she asked.
Sacha nodded and let out a contented sigh. “Yeah, it is.”