EverBright: The Darkness Pool

Prelude

The wagon was nothing special, constructed as it was of plain woods and simple metals, splintered and rusted from years of use. It was open with burlap sacks of grain slumped drunkenly in the back, pulled by two thin horses showing early signs of breaking down, led by a middle-aged farmer whose crow-footed eyes were just beginning to betray his age.

The day was nothing special. It was nearing dusk, the sun pushing the shadows of trees across the road on its evening descent. The air was filled with the late summer, early autumn smells of turning leaves and freshly cut vegetation. Crickets talked with one another, hidden in the roadside grasses.

The accident, though. Now that was something special indeed. Perhaps, if it had been earlier in the day, the rabbit darting from the treeline wouldn’t have spooked the team, but as it was, the horses panicked and ran away from the sudden movement to the forest on the opposite side of the road.

History has suggested that there is reason in every event. If that’s so, however, then the reason for what happened next has remained elusive. In the horses’ fright, the darkening woods became an impassable labyrinth. Branches and twigs bit at them like vipers in the waiting grass. Somewhere far off the road, the beasts attempted to pass a tree in opposite directions, crashing the cart directly into it. The tree itself was a massive, gnarled thing, nearly the same width as the cart.

The trouble was that this tree, planted generations before the path of the road was cut, had been a lock. Life binds. Those bonds tie may things. This lock was created to to bind a hole in the earth. At each of the four compass points, a sapling was planted. These saplings were then woven together over the hole to create this lock. However, the impact of that wagon broke the lock, and where it broke, shadows seeped out. The shadows didn’t billow like smoke announcing itself; rather, they escaped by stealth to blend in with their darkening surroundings, but they had teeth and they had claws. The shadows were hungry- that is until they set upon the limp form of the farmer. The shadows slinked up his broken form like a blanket, but this blanket did not tuck itself under his chin. Rather, he was covered completely, devoured by the blackness. With that feast, they were sated for a while and drew themselves into a perfectly round pool of murk that seemed almost liquid, yet no breeze could disturb its surface.

Chapter 1: Tiernan’s First Job

Tiernan balanced the small pile of bowls in his hands, each made lopsided by the spoon sticking out from it. Sticky residue from the night’s soup course streaked the outsides, making them harder to handle. The bowls rattled and wobbled as Tiernan made his way toward the kitchens. Two rooms adjacent to one another, a proper kitchen and a scullery, they were typical of noble houses in EverBright.

“Watch it!” His mother shouted at him just as the precariously positioned tower fell to the ground in a clatter. She was by his side in a second.

“I told you to take the spoons out first. You’re just lucky you dropped them outside on the lawn. If you’d been in the scullery, they would have shattered, and we’d be out a few days’ wages.”

As she bent to help him clean the mess, she saw tears welling up in his hazel eyes, his rosy cheeks flushing a deepening shade of red. Gold ringlets of hair drooped down his forehead damp with sweat. The eyes he got from her. The height too, eventually. The hair was his father’s, though. Not that Tiernan would ever know him. Not that his mother had ever known him either for that matter. Just enough to pick him out of a crowd, months after their tryst, to tell him she was pregnant.

“I’m sorry, mommy. I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to hurry.” The tears fell in earnest now. She hated that at just 5 years old, her master expected him to work alongside her. It was part of the agreement, though, and she was resolved to it. She put the bowls back on the ground and embraced him.

“It’ll be alright. Remember, we never cry over things that can break.” The boy stifled his sniffles and nodded. “Now, grab that tub and let’s get these to the kitchen.” Tiernan obeyed, rushing back with the tub she’d pointed out. “We’ve got to hurry. They must all be cleared before the next course is ready to be served.”

The maddening rush was always the same at these parties. This was the first time, though, that she had to worry about Tiernan at the same time. Usually, he was out of the way, taken care of by another member of the staff. Now, he was expected to work, and she had never been more terrified. He’s only gotten sure of his feet in the past few months. What if he breaks something? What if he makes a mistake that embarrasses the master? What if he does something that gets them kicked out? Could she go back to being what she had been before? She glanced around the courtyard. To the west was the house. It was huge, three stories tall, ornate stonework creating a pattern of concentric circles, alternating dark and light as had been the fashion when it was built two hundred years earlier. The other three sides were lined with a stone fence, four feet high. Short enough for onlookers to be envious of its goings-on, but tall enough to keep them on the outside of it. Next to this house was the lodger’s house. It was customary for the EverBright nobility to run a small lodging house on their estate to keep guests visiting the city. She gazed at the east wall. Just over it, she could see the small shabby roof of the house she and Tiernan lived in now. It wasn’t much. In fact, it was barely anything. Still, most halflings had it far worse. She’d had it far worse just four years ago.

Most of the time, the courtyard was simple. It was ornamented with a few flower beds speckling color in a sea of green. During parties, though, the courtyard had an otherworldly feel. The butlers and the maids are pulled from their daily duties on party mornings to get the courtyard ready. Of course, a good chunk of the yard was used for tables, yet theywere never just tables. They were always draped in the richest colored cloths with grand centerpieces fitting the theme of the party. Tonight’s party was to celebrate the annual noble hunt which would take place the next day. Each table had at its center a black leather quiver tooled with silver. The openings and straps were adorned with silver baubles in swirling patterns like the wind. Inside each quiver was a passel of arrows fletched with red-orange feathers that could only be phoenix plume.

Surrounding the tables, there was a series of trellises, each ringed with vines created by the itinerant wizard to flower with blooms that changed colors revolving through the colors of the rainbow. If you caught sight of them at just the right moment, you could see three colors on them at once. As the red faded away to the far left, the predominantly orange bloom gave way to a soft yellow on the right. Tiernan said he loved the purple best.

However, the prize of the decor was the stage and all the pomp that surrounded it. It was always grand. It was draped with glorious backdrops and outlined with columns. The scene of the back drop this time showed a hunter on one knee, crossbow extended, arrow flying through the air toward a prancing hart. Perfect for the occasion.

“Hey there,” The chef’s first assistant, Reginald, called from the scullery door. “Get those bowls in here and get them to wash. We need them for the dessert.”

Gathering the tub, Melody rushed to the scullery, Tiernan close behind. As she dumped the tub into the already cold soapy water, she gave the boy his instructions. “Now, you just stand there and dry as I wash and rinse. Make sure the bowls are evenly spread across the tray so it’ll be easy to carry.” With that, she made her way to the small stove, grabbing the simmering pot of hot water. This she dumped in the sink to warm the dish water as she began her work.

She was perched on a small wooden stool made just for her by the head butler in his spare time. The house had made some concessions in hiring a halfling, though truth be told, she didn’t need the stool for most jobs and was usually too proud to use it. But the sinks were simply too tall for her pride. As she began the familiar rhythm of the wash and rinse, her mind started to drift. She thought about her life before. She thought about that night. She thought about Tiernan’s father. She thought about who she had been.

____

Life was hard in EverBright for a halfling. She’d come to town after her parents died. They’d lived on the edge of a nearby forest growing crops and hunting game, but it would be impossible for her to keep up the farming and other chores on her own. Since no one really owned the land, she just left it behind without a thought. The wolves that had attacked and killed her parents were still on the hunt, and she refused to be a victim.

She was 17. She had no skills. She knew no one. It was only through angry shouts, rude shoves, and an entire day of wandering that she found her way to the halfling slums. They called it Backwater Row. Her eye caught red crystals glowing near a door.Those crystals, that door. That’s what got her into trouble. The door creaked despite its polished appearance. The woman she saw struck her oddly. Her mother never wore makeup, so she was not prepared for Madame Minx, and she looked a bit like a clown to her, but her face was kind. She wore a thin blue dress. The kind of thing made for sleeping, not for answering doors. This she covered in a flower shawl with fringes.

“Can I help you, my dear?” Her thick northern accent made it clear she was a transplant as well. “It’s awfully late in the evening for a young girl to be traveling Backwater Row alone.”

“Is that where I am?,” she asked with a resigned sense of confusion.

“Of course. This is where all the Halflings end up eventually. I’m Madame Minx.”

“Hello, I’m Melody. Is there a place to stay for someone new to town?”

“ Come in,” Madame Minx beckoned. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

Melody bowed her head slightly, pushing her mouse brown hair down in the back. “Thank You,” she said more quietly than she had intended.

The foyer she entered was lit with the same red crystals as had hung outside the door. It gave a dim light that made it impossible to see the details of her surroundings. A bright yellow light shone from a room in the back, however, making it clear to Melody that the red lights were there to set a deliberate mood in this part of the house.

“Come with me to the kitchen. We will talk about your situation and what I can do to help.” Madame Minx was leading her to the room in the back. “If you’re hungry, I have scones left over from supper. Take one. Take two. It’s fine. Now, tell me, what brings you to EverBright?”

“My parents were killed by wolves a few days ago. There was nothing at home for me after that, so I took what little money we had and came here. It was the nearest city. I guess I need to find a job. I don’t know what inns cost, but I doubt that 17 copper pieces will last long.”

“You’re right about that. With that, you could probably find one of the seedier inns to house and feed you for four or five days. After that, though, you’d be left with nothing. It turns out that I may have an opening here at my establishment.” She looked at Melody with eyes that betrayed a wildness, adding to Melody’s growing bewilderment.

“What sort of work do you do here?”

“We are in the entertainment business,” the Madame mused.

“I know nothing of that world. I cannot play any instruments and know no songs.”

“That’s alright. All you need is a certain look, and it’s a look you have.”

Melody looked down at her simple dress, confused. “What sort of look is that?”

“You look young and innocent. Those are the two attributes our clients are most interested in.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“You will. The world’s a hard place for halflings. Humans treats us like we’re not fit to be trampled under their feet. You will be despised by them, but you can live with it. Your own will take quite a shine to you.”

The destruction was nearly immediate. Melody went from frightened to numb to hardened in less than six months. Then that fateful night.

He stumbled in. She just happened to be next in line. He paid his fee and blew a belch of wine and digestion in her face. She didn’t remember the rest.She never remembered. Her brain shut down like it always did. Except that when he left, he muttered, “Halfling. Disgusting”

She wouldn’t have given him a second thought if she hadn’t been puking the next morning. If it hadn’t been evident that her appetite and her stomach were already growing. Halflings only take five months to bear a child, not like the 9 months of a human. So, with a huge belly at 4 months, she went to seek him out.

She had no choice. Madame Minx had “no use for ruined merchandise.” Slim as it was, he was her only hope.

She found him by chance in a tavern around mid-morning. The place was mostly empty, and her presence was conspicuous.

“Do you remember me?” Melody asked? It was obvious from the look on his face that he did.

“So what if I do? What am I to you?”

He didn’t offer his name. She didn’t ask. She only learned later that he was Leeren, third son of a high count in the city.

“I need your help.”

“Why are you coming to me?”

“I may not be able to prove it now, but in two months it will be obvious that you have a child.”

“My child? Surely not.”

“I am certain. Halfling pregnancies take quickly. I was puking the next morning. I haven’t worked since that night.”

“Why are you here?”

“I have nowhere else to go,” she said.

“There’s nothing for you here, either. Leave me alone.” He turned to leave.

“This can go one of two ways,” she told him. “Either you help me now or you are forced to help me by the courts when the baby is born. You may look down on me. All the humans in this town may believe their better than me, but even Halflings have some rights. If you don’t help me now, you will help me later. I’m sure your family would not appreciate that embarrassment.” She couldn’t tell if the forcefulness in her voice would mean anything to him. She only knew that it didn’t matter. She had to do something for the child now bulging her stomach.

She could tell he was being swayed, though. He stood a little stiffer at the mention of his family. Perhaps the family honor goaded him to help. It was clear he saw the need to deal with this quickly. His gestures became furtive and unnerved. It made the question he asked feel brusque and dismissive.

“Fine. What do you need?”

“I need a job.”

His sign of relief at this request lifted a weight off Melody’s shoulders. “I can do that. It won’t be fancy, but my uncle needs a new scullery maid.”

“That will work. Thank you.”

“Go to Lord Marol’s estates tomorrow. Just don’t talk to me after this.”

“Hey, Ya done yet?” The testy question from the chef’s first assistant brought the dishwashing back into focus. “I need those bowls, and you need to clear the plates from the main course.”

___

“Finished!” Tiernan shouted and carefully carried the tray to the assistant's waiting hands. Then, Tiernan rushed past his mother and out the door, beckoned by the sounds of the announcer on stage.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” said a dapper man in velvet finery with faint lines of thinning black hair plastered to his head as if he’d just come out of the river. He was Fenly, the head of Lord Marol’s staff. He always introduced the entertainment. “It is with great pleasure that I introduce to you the first of tonight’s entertainments. In grand Noble Hunt tradition, I present one of the finest marksmen EverBright has yet produced. He has taken top marks in the past five Noble Hunts and has presented his quarry at the feet of kings and governors around the world. Please join me in welcoming Narlix the Hunter.”

A thunderous applause caused Tiernan to cover his ears, but his eyes were fixed on the man taking the stage.

“Thank You, Thank You,” Narlix intoned with the confident air of someone who was used to working a crowd. He was tall and thickly muscled. His short sandy hair was tucked under a green cap bearing a red-orange feather, a phoenix fletching. It was clear now that the centerpieces were an homage to his preferred hunting gear. His clothing was simple, trousers and a shirt, loose enough to move, yet tight enough to stay out of his way as he shot. As he spoke, he began removing two hand crossbows from a case at the back of the stage. This motion revealed a quiver of similarly fletched bolts strapped to his back.

“It would be best if tonight’s demonstration involved some audience participation.” Tiernan heard the last bit of Narlix’s greeting as he began to listen to his words again. “Do I have any volunteers?”

Hands shot up around the courtyard. Condescending looks countered, glaring at those so uncouth as to volunteer. Still, many were excited about the prospect of being part of the show. Not all the wealthy in EverBright were stiff.

“I need three volunteers of various sizes. As you can see, my assistants are bringing out three targets. Why are there ropes attached to them, you wonder? Not to worry. They are there to assure that you don’t move. Ha Ha!”

A chuckle from the crowd. The three targets were each a circle affixed to a stand. The first of these was around 10 feet in circumference. The second was around 7 feet, and the third was only 4.

The first volunteer didn’t even look like a man to Tiernan. He looked like a tower with arms and legs. His belly was large and round but did not look out of place on his frame. As they bound him, Tiernan could see the edges of the target peeking modestly around the man.

The second volunteer was a tall, slender woman with red hair in a flowing green gown. She stood proud and indignant. It was clear from the snickers of her tablemates that she had been goaded into service.

All this was was so interesting to Tiernan that he was completely dumbfounded when the crowd’s attentions were turned to him.

Narlix was speaking. “...and here I thought I was going to have to skip the grand finale!

You there, serving boy, come here.” Tiernan gave a confused glance in response. “Yes. You. It’s alright. Come.”

Tiernan walked to the stage.

“What’s your name, boy?” Narlix inquired.

“I’m Tiernan, sir.”

“Tiernan. Would you like to be part of the show.”

“But the dishes, sir.”

“The dishes can be cleared by someone else. Am I right?”The chef’s first assistant nodded. “Excellent. Tiernan, please head back to the target at the far end of the courtyard.”

As Tiernan made his way there, his mind began to wander. He was thinking about the other volunteers and listening to Narlix explain what was going to happen. “You might think that large game would prove to be the toughest to catch. In the wild, when the prey is cunning and quick, that might be so, but in a controlled environment such as this, smaller is more difficult. Let us begin then with our largest target. I call this the Northern Star.” With that, he loosed the first bolt. It soared through the air and landed dead center, just above the tall man’s head. Here, Narlix paused, “Excuse me, sir, are you married?”

“I am.”

“And for how long?”

“22 years.”

“A long time! Congratulations!” Then, as a false aside to the audience, “It seems as if it’s been long enough that a miss won’t hurt either of us much.”

The audience laughed at this. While they did, Narlix send a bolt straight at the man’s crotch. It connected with the target a mere few inches from the man, cutting his nervous chuckle short and replacing it with a horrified stare. “Thus we have the northern and southern points!” The crowd cheered. “And for the east and west!” Narlix sent two bolts speeding nearly simultaneously toward the man, each of which slammed into the targets underneath either of his palms.

The crowd erupted. Narlix bowed into the din, allowing it to wash over him like the tide. His grin grew amidst the deluge of adoration. “I call this next one ‘The Maiden’s Corset.’” In rapid succession, he loosed six arrows - two at a time - which hugged her waist in a perfect hourglass shape. Again, the crowd roared its marvel at his skill.

Tiernan was mesmerized. He had never seen something so incredible before. In the past, he had been inside, under the watchful eye of some makeshift nanny or other during these parties. Needless to say, the festivities were leaving an impression. So much so that he had forgotten himself entirely, not remembering that someone was about to be shooting at him. Until he heard his mother’s cry.

“No,” she said. “He’s just a boy.” The Chef’s first assistant grabbed her arm to restrain her, but she jerked away, heading toward the Hunter.

Narlix tried to calm her. “Don’t worry, lady. He is in the best of hands. Ready, Tiernan?”

Then, turning back to the crowd, he continued, “Finally, spanning the length of the courtyard, I shall perform ‘The Cherub’s Halo!’”

With this, he affixed two bolts to each crossbow using a special extension he claimed was of his own design. He aimed calmly and slowly, taking a breath. With a smooth exhalation, four bolts flew at once, landing in the perfect shape around Tiernan’s head. Only the people closest to the stage could see the way his eyes widened and his head jerked when the bolts slammed home all around him. Everyone in the audience, however, had no problem seeing his head slump forward as he passed out a moment later.

“Tiernan!” His mother screamed. There was an audible gasp from the audience, and a few guests rose to rush toward him just as his mother did. As they got to him, they saw for certain that none of the bolts had hit him. One of the guests brought a cup of water and threw it into his face. Tiernan jerked himself awake wearing a grin as wide as that of Narlix himself.

“Hoorah!” Tiernan shouted, and the crowd echoed the sentiment as he was untied from the target.

“Bring him down here,” Narlix said as he gestured with his hand. “Let him sit with me for the remainder of the show to reward him for being such a good sport. This caused the crowd to erupt in applause again as Tiernan was carried to a table near the front and given a chair.

“Are you hungry,” Narlix asked?

“Yes, sir, but I’m not supposed to eat in front of guests, sir.”

“Well, then, that is when you are acting as a servant, but right now you are acting as my guest. I have a whole table of meats, cheeses, fruits and vegetables at your disposal.” With that, Tiernan ate the proffered food greedily, washing it down with a mug of ginger ale.

The vantage point Tiernan enjoyed that evening proved to shape the course of his future. It was at this time that the announcer stepped on stage to continue the evening’s show.

“Let’s hear it again for Narlix the Hunter!” Applause again filled the air. “Now that you’ve had your excitement for the evening, let’s see if we can play on your emotions a little. Straight from the King’s palace in Tursdeg, I give you Dilou!

The man who walked out had dark hair and an unassuming grin. He carried an instrument Tiernan had never seen before. It was like a smallish lute with only 4 strings. It’s tone was bright and enchanting.

“Hello, my name is Dilou. I come to you from the kingdom of Tursdeg with the regards of the king himself to offer you. I can’t offer you all the thrills of my previous act, but I humbly offer what I have to give. This,” he strummed, “Is a lute. It is a traditional Tursdegan instrument. Most of our youth take it up for a time. However, there are but few of us who never put it back down. I hope you enjoy.”

He plucked the strings, and the chord came out like a question of acceptance. “Is this what you were expecting,” it asked in its dulcet tone. He let the sound ring out until the audience hushed even their slightest murmur. When all was silent, he began a delirious assault of joy upon the strings. The rhythm sounded like the rush of finishing outside chores as a storm bears down. The tempo sounded like a fevered search for a precious thing just lost. The melody pitched and swayed through a litany of strums and picked notes. It carried with it the feeling of what it might be like to dance on the tops of trees with the birds and chase around their trunks with squirrels. The ending of the song was just as abrupt as its start, and the crowd was left speechless.

Tiernan broke the silence with childish applause and shouts, and the audience followed his lead. From there, Dilou served up many songs from his native Tursdeg, most of which were new to audience members. Though he didn’t have the words for it then, Tiernan was connecting with the soul of the music in a way he had never known anything before. It’s grip on him was undeniable from that moment and he doubted whether it would ever be loosed. He was living a touchstone moment in is life as he relished the music washing over him.

It was stunning the variety that could come from just four strings. There were raucous dance songs that caused even the most reserved to get to their feet. There was melancholy ballads that made people weep. Just when it seemed they had heard it all, Dilou showed them something different. The Tursdegan melodies were both foreign and familiar. As the set wound down, it was clear to everyone that this was a night they would not be forgetting. As the evening wound to a close, Tiernan was surprised to be called on stage.

“Please, bring a chair to the stage. Bring the boy from before and his mother. Here, lady, sit and hold your boy as I end with something special. What I would like to play for you all to end the night is an old Tursdegan lullaby. It is the song from my oldest memories. My mother would rock me to sleep, singing it to me in her sweet, soft tone. When she died, I sang it for my father at her funeral. Now, I want to share it with you. Our young hero, so brave, is the perfect audience for it. So, ladies and gentlemen, as I play you ‘Good Night,’ look on this mother and her son remembering what it’s like to hold and be held in the arms of love.”

The light, wispy music coming from his instrument was accompanied by sweet word.

“My dearest son/Heaven’s gift/My truest love/My only wish…”

That was all Tiernan heard as he drifted off to sleep in his mother’s arms. He stirred only slightly as the song ended in the evenings final applause. After that, his mother laid him in his bed and went about cleaning the courtyard after the guests departed. It would be hours before she could join Tiernan in his slumber, but the evening’s end was so perfect that she didn’t mind the clean up at all.

As for Tiernan, his night was filled with dreams. In them, he was tall and proud. He was playing music for crowds or hunting in the thick of the woods with hand crossbows. He was leading other men, deftly searching out prey. He was entertaining them around campfires after long days of successful hunting. All the wonder of the evening danced around in his head all night long.

He was the head of a great excursion. The people had hired them to find a beast that had been menacing the town, killing livestock and scaring everyone. The other men in his group did everything he asked. They never questioned him, and he was never wrong. The trail was hard to follow and the forest was thick. They spend over a week in the woods, living off the land and coming closer and closer to the beast’s den.

At some point in the evening, a dark cloud fell over his dreams. The men he led dispersed. The crowds he entertained slipped away into the night. He found himself alone. He stopped being the hunter and became the hunted. Deep in a thicket of forest, he began to run, first dropping his lute, then losing his crossbows as he climbed a tree. Once in the branches, his form changed to that of an owl, gigantic yellow eyes with brown and white flecked feathers. The beast that followed him was all blackness and claws, slavering snarls of hate. Until it reached the base of the tree he perched on. Then, the blackness resolved itself into a face. The face of his father. Even though the blackness was gone, the vile hatred remained. There was no love in those inky black eyes staring at Tiernan.

The beast that was his father carried a longbow. His snarl turned into a mirthless chuckle as he knocked an arrow and drew back the string. Believing he could hide, Tiernan hunched down into the thickest clump of leaves he could find. However, his father’s arrow was not aimed at him. Instead, he aimed it at the tree’s trunk and it struck like a hammer on an anvil. The very bones in Tiernan’s owl body shook, and to his dismay, he looked around to see that the blow had knocked all the leaves from the tree, and he had nowhere to hide.

Before he even knew what was happening, another arrow flew through the air and struck his wing. Dislodged from the tree, Tiernan fell headlong to the ground.

He awoke suddenly, falling out of his bed with the haunting laughter of the father in his dreams offering him farewell.

The noise woke his mother, and she called to him. “Tiernan, are you alright?”

His cry was answer enough. As he came to her bedside, she scooted toward the wall and let him climb in with her. As she wrapped her arm around him, he spoke through his sobs.“Why does father hate me?”

She couldn’t keep her exasperated sigh quiet. “He doesn’t hate you, Tiernan. He doesn’t even know who you are. How could he hate you?”

“The stories you tell, from when you were little, they were so happy.”

“Aren’t you happy here with me? Am I not family enough?” She asked. “You know I do what I can to give you what you need.”

“I know, but it still like there’s something missing. Something I don’t have. A hole in me.”

Silent tears slid down her cheeks. She understood but didn’t want to. She wanted to be enough for him even though she knew she wasn’t. She couldn’t blame him. Any advice she could give him about manhood was secondhand, untested. The best she could do was tell him stories of all the things that made his grandfather great. Again, she cursed his father in her head, knowing that if he ever got to know the boy, he would love him as much as she did. And also knowing that he would never take the time to speak two words to him, let alone ever hear what he had to say. Her heart broke for Tiernan. It broke over and over for him, but the boy’s smile healed it every time.

“Tonight, though, during the party, things were different.”

“How’s that?” She asked

“When I was watching Narlix the hunter, when I was listening to Dilou, I didn’t hurt so much inside. I didn’t think about not having a father or being a servant. It was like my mind could live somewhere else for a while, in a place where I was in charge of myself with nobody to boss me or disappoint me. The kind of place where I could be happier. I think that those things could make me happier. How much do you suppose a lute costs anyway?”