Fantasia

Fey looked down at the town below her. Because citizens entered buildings from above, Pearlview lacked real streets, with shops and homes tending to cluster in natural-looking arrangements, spaced out by gardens and artwork.

Instead of the wide-open roofs designed to display wares and invite potential customers in, Fey now saw screens designed for privacy and small entrances that would only allow one person to enter at a time. She guessed that they had left the commercial district and entered a residential area.

 

Fey glanced back at Requiem, who was following her lead without paying much attention. She was not familiar enough with the merman to determine whether his withdrawn state was due to preoccupation and thought, or he was simply sulking.

 

Either way, Requiem was being useless, and uselessness was not something Fey was prepared to put up with.

:Any ideas?: she asked.

:Hmm?: Requiem blinked, then focused on Fey.

:On getting a quest.: Fey’s telepathic tone was a quarter of the way towards the exaggerated slowness she reserved for idiots, and her left eyebrow was very slightly raised. Neither of the cues were large enough for Requiem to consciously notice, but he flushed slightly and straightened his posture.

 

:Ah, well, I’ve only ever gotten non-hunt quests when NPCs heard me singing: he confessed.

 

:That’s fine,: said Fey. Now that Requiem was being useful again, her speech (and eyebrow) had returned to normal. :Why don’t you try that now?:

:Singing?:

:Yup.:

 

:…Okay.: It took Requiem a moment to shift into performance mode. As a trained singer, he automatically straightened his posture to optimize lung capacity, though telepathic singing did not require it. :Any requests?: he asked.

 

:Something that will buff attack,: said Fey pragmatically.

 

It took Requiem several seconds to find a song that fit Fey’s vague request, but soon enough, the music began with a martial drumbeat. It appeared that one of the bard’s skills was to produce instrumental accompaniment without needing instruments.

Requiem launched into a rendition of “I’ll Make A Man Out Of You” from the Mulan Disney movie. Unlike the sweet tone he used for his earlier love ballad, his telepathic voice now held the power and vibrancy of a warrior.

 

Fey tried not to be impressed. Her face remained calm and impassive, but her inner fangirl danced and twirled in silly circles in her mind. Requiem had unwittingly picked one of her favourite songs, and if anything, was performing it better than the original soundtrack.

It occurred to her that if Requiem stopped the flirting nonsense and simply sang all of her favourite songs as well as he was singing this one, she probably would develop a crush on him. She kept the thought to herself. (Meh, she’s safe. Bard-dude is too dense to figure it out.)

 

:…Mysterious as the dark side of the moon…!: The music ended with an emphatic drumbeat, and Fey applauded. She was not alone; a small crowd had gathered throughout the performance.

<Fey has listened to Requiem’s battle song.>

<Effect (in-party bonus): +20 attack, +5 agility, +10 stamina>

<Duration: 1 hour>

 

<Requiem’s fame has increased to 328 (+11)!>

 

Requiem bowed with a flourish, and began speaking to the audience members who went up to him.

It appeared that this was an NPC neighbourhood, as the audience had a balance of ages and genders rather than the almost exclusively young, female player population.

 

A few of the merfolk pressed a coin into Requiem’s hand in thanks before going about their business. Some requested that he sing one of their favourite songs; he was not always familiar with the song, but performed it when he did, gaining himself and Fey small amounts of quest experience.

 

Finally, only one NPC remained. An older female with gray streaks in her (blue) hair, the word ‘maid’ fit her no longer (so we’re just going to make one up and call her a ‘merdame’).

 

:You sing quite well, boy,: were her first words as Requiem turned his attention to her.

:Thank you. I practice a lot.:

The modest words were lost to the NPC; her eyes had gained the dreamy, faraway expression of a person dwelling in memory.

:You sing well,: the merdame continued, :but nothing like what I heard one day, twenty years ago. Now that was true siren’s song. It was so beautiful that I was mesmerized for hours until it stopped...:

 

:Are sirens real, then?: Fey asked. As far as she knew, mermaids were the closest match to the siren myth in Fantasia.

 

:I don’t know.: The NPC sighed. :I searched and searched, but I never heard the music again. According to legend, merfolk used to have singers that could stop entire cities with their songs, but our records say the last one died centuries ago. I’ve never heard of anyone with that kind of ability in any of the colonies. Plenty of singers that sound nice, like you,: she patted Requiem’s arm, :but nothing I couldn’t swim away from if I wanted to.:

 

:…Are you saying that siren’s song is a lost merfolk ability?: Requiem was beginning to sound very excited. A merfolk-only singing ability would give him a huge advantage over bards of other races.

 

:That’s what the legends say. I don’t know if it’s true, but if you ever find it, I’d love to hear it again.: The NPC looked wistful, as if she did not expect to ever again come across the music that haunted her memories.

 

A quest was being offered, and Requiem did not stop to think before accepting it. :We’ll find it for you,: he promised.

 

:I hope you do, boy. My name’s Wellia; I’ll be around here if you’re looking for me.: Patting Requiem on the arm a final time, the merdame swam off about her business.

 

Requiem turned to Fey excitedly, only to sober abruptly as he realized that he had made a major decision without consulting her. :Hey… Sorry about that. I guess I got too excited about the possibility of a new singing ability…: he trailed off awkwardly.

 

Fey decided that since Requiem expected her to be annoyed, she would be gracious and understanding instead (*contrary*). :Oh, it’s quite understandable,: she said in her most musical tone, channelling rainbows and sunshine into her telepathic speech (in a way that was quite creepy if you knew her normal demeanour). :I’d be quite excited as well, if I were you.:

When Requiem proved to be at a loss for words in the face of her unexpected response, Fey smiled mischievously (evilly) and continued, :Why don’t I tell Blade and Sirena and we can start looking for clues?:

:...Yeah, good idea.:

 

Fey opened the party chat at a text-only level.

<Fey: Hey guys, we found a quest to find a hidden merfolk ability, ‘siren’s song’.>

<Sirena: Ooh, how apropos, considering my name.>

<Blade: Is it bard-only?>

<Fey: No idea.>

<Sirena: I’ll just have to sign up as a bard, just in case.>

<Blade: If you’re going to pick a non-combat class, shouldn’t it be one we don’t already have?>

<Sirena: Oh, please. We’re already unbalanced with a mage and three warriors.>

<Sirena: Well, two warriors and a Fey. Whatever.>

<Fey: …>

<Sirena: My point being that we might as well learn whatever skills and classes we want, then figure out how to work together.>

 

Having followed the party conversation without participating, Requiem glanced at Fey, wondering why Sirena had implied she was not a warrior.

 

Fey simply smiled wryly (he’d find out soon enough) and continued the conversation.

<Fey: Meet at the performing arts guild? Sirena can sign up and we can plan our next move.>

<Blade: Maybe the people there will know something about siren’s song.>

<Fey: Blade, you’re quite insightful, sometimes.>

<Blade: …Thanks?>

Fey sent a smiley face over and closed the chat. She and Requiem swam towards the commercial district of town.

 

The performing arts guild was modelled after a giant conch shell stuck vertically into the seafloor. Divided into three floors, the lowest level was devoted to dance, the middle to drama, and the top to music. Fey and Requiem swam directly into the third floor, where Sirena was running through scales and arpeggios while a female NPC listened critically.

 

In real life, both Leah and Arwyn had been through the standard piano lessons expected of them from ages four to eighteen. They were highly educated in music theory and had fairly good ears for pitch, but only passable, untrained singing voices.

 

Sirena, however, sounded a lot better than ‘passable’ as she breezed through the telepathic singing exercises. While singing using the vocal cords required specific control of the muscles related to sound production and breathing, singing telepathically only required that a person be able to vividly imagine the correct pitch and quality of ‘sound’. Therefore, most trained musicians could sing incredibly well using telepathy.

 

As these thoughts occurred to Fey, she toyed with the idea of becoming a bard as well. She enjoyed singing, but preferred to do it where she would not bother others with the occasional off-pitch note. Being able to sing well enough that others would want to listen would be a novel experience.

She decided against committing to the non-combat class. Since telepathy was not an innate racial ability for elves, if she ever took off the stone she wore on her throat, she would be forced to rely on her vocal cords to sing (*negative bard skills*).

 

Sirena finished the last of the singing exercises and everyone turned to Songsmistress Gwenna for her judgement.

Gwenna looked satisfied. :You have some talent. I would be happy for you to join our ranks.:

:Thank you, mistress,: said Sirena, shaking (webbed) hands with the NPC.

:Work hard,: Gwenna advised, :and perhaps one day, your name will be known across the land and sea.:

 

Requiem took the opportunity to enter the conversation. :I was told that there were once legendary singers who truly had siren’s song.:

 

The songsmistress scoffed. :That old batfish Wellia’s been telling tales again, has she? There’s no special ability; if you honed your skills enough, you could bring a water dragon down with just your voice.: To demonstrate, the NPC telepathically voiced a wordless melody, each note ringing out with crystal purity.

 

Fey, Requiem, Sirena, and Blade were instantly mesmerized by Gwenna’s song, unable to move or look away from the captivating performance. Even after the NPC let the haunting melody fade away, it took the players about a minute to shake off its effects.

 

Having some resistance to mesmerization due to his own bard skills, Requiem was the first to recover. :That must be it! Siren’s song!: he exclaimed, enthusiastic at the demonstration of the power he might one day attain.

 

Gwenna sniffed. :Apparently not, according to that old batfish. Every year, she comes to the guild’s summer performance, and every year, she moans about how none of us are good enough compared to that random hallucination she had.: The songsmistress was clearly offended at the insult to her skills.

 

:Have you ever gone looking for sirens?: Sirena asked.

 

:Me and every other musician to pass through this town. We’ve all gone to that chasm in the southeast that old Wellia said she heard the music, but there’s nothing there.: Looking at the players, she sighed. :I can tell that you are going to go looking, no matter what I say, but you’re wasting your time.:

 

:It’s not that we don’t believe you,: said Requiem apologetically, :it’s just that…:

 

:…it’s every bard’s wildest dream come true, if it’s real,: Gwenna finished for him. :Yes, I understand. Go on, then; the sooner you see for yourself that there’s nothing to find, the sooner you can move on.:

 

The newly-reunited party swam out of the performing arts guild, strongly concerned about the chance of successfully completing the quest.

:Do you think she’s right?: Sirena asked.

:Well, it’s a real quest, so there has to be some way of completing it,: Fey answered logically. :If there’s no special ability, then the songsmistress has to be right in that if you level up your normal bard skills, you’ll eventually be able to convince Wellia you have siren’s song. It’ll take you months or years before you pass the level Gwenna’s at now, though.:

 

:We should at least go look at the place she said she heard it,: said Requiem. It was clear that he still hoped there would be a hidden ability to unlock.

It was a logical next step in the quest, so the other three agreed and the party headed towards the dolphin taxi stand to arrange for transport to the distant chasm.

 

Fey recognized the dolphins who had transported her and Blade to the lobster territory (in Chapter 31) based on the pattern of weaving in the harnesses they wore. The dolphins recognized her and Blade based on the fact that the players had legs.

 

:Hey, it’s the humans!: Click exclaimed, swimming around the party in excited circles.

:I’m an elf,: Fey muttered, again ignored as more dolphins came to inspect the exotic land-dwellers.

:Hello again,: said Whistle as she swam up in a more dignified fashion than her younger companion. :Are you looking for another lift?:

 

:Yup,: Sirena answered cheerfully. :For all of us this time. We’re going far out, to the chasm in the southeast.:

 

:Are you bards?: asked Click. :Bards always want to go out there.:

:I’m a bard,: said Requiem, causing Click to circle the merman more closely.

:I’ve never seen you before,: Click commented. :Are you friends with the humans?:

 

When Requiem said, :Yes,: instead of clarifying that Fey was an elf, he lost an opportunity to earn brownie points. Fey sighed, not really expecting anything else from the (clueless) merman. Her attention was diverted to more important matters when Amethyst squeaked inquisitively (“Req-Req isn’t on Fey-Fey’s friend list and Fey-Fey doesn’t seem to like him, so how is he a friend?”).

:He’s not,: Fey answered in a low voice, mostly unheard by the rest of the party as they conversed with the dolphins. :He’s just being delusional.:

 

Since Sirena had taken over the task of negotiating the party’s travel fare, Blade’s attention was free enough that he caught the tail end of Fey’s muttered explanation. “Delusional?” he asked over party chat.

 

Sirena glanced over at Blade, saw who he was talking to, flicked her gaze over to Requiem, smiled amusedly, and returned to her negotiation, all within a second.

 

Aware that Requiem could hear party chat and was in fact paying attention to her and Blade, Fey answered by private message.

<Fey: I was just explaining to Amethyst that Requiem doesn’t fall into any of the three categories of ‘friends’ (as touched upon in Chapter 29), and therefore isn’t one.>

 

Blade was still unclear on Fey’s terminology for different kinds of friends (because she used the same word for all three), and focused on the part he did understand. “So you understand what it’s saying now?” he asked, referring to Amethyst.

 

Fey grinned playfully. :Nope, still guessing. I seem to be getting it right, because Amethyst nods and stops squeaking when I answer.:

 

Sirena concluded her bargaining with the dolphins. :Okay, so five mackerel per person each way, and energy- and speed-boosting songs along the travel route.:

:Done,: said Whistle. She went to confer with her fellow taxi dolphins to decide who would go on the trip.

 

:You pay them in fish?: asked Fey.

Sirena grinned and asked, :What else would you pay them with?:

:What if they’re not hungry?:

:They go off shift.: Sirena was enjoying being able to treat Fey like a slow-learning student; it was rare to find a subject that Fey was not already familiar with.

 

Fey just shook her head, accepting the playful barbs because it was the way she treated other people (mostly Blade). :I don’t have any fish.:

 

Requiem saw and seized the opportunity to come to the rescue. :Don’t worry, Fey, I’ll take care of it,: he said in his most suave and self-assured tone.

 

Unfortunately for the merman, Fey’s attention was distracted by her pets. After an excited squeak from Amethyst (“We have fish!”), Inkblot and Onyx dived into the satchel attached at Fey’s hip and emerged with a dead nomfish apiece.

Fey raised an eyebrow. Her diving satchel was not enchanted for extra space. :Did I know those were in there?: she asked Amethyst.

The slime shook her head.

:Are there any more in there?:

Amethyst shook her head and squeaked apologetically (“No more room.”).

:I’m impressed you even managed to fit two in there.: said Fey, patting the slime in praise. She did the same for Inkblot and Onyx as they delivered the fish to her hand.

 

:Are those nomfish?: Whistle asked as she approached with Click and two other dolphins. There was an undercurrent of delight in her tone that Fey missed.

 

:Yeah. I don’t know if you guys eat these things, but I guess I could use these to pay and borrow another three fish from someone else.: Fey held the two (green) fish towards Whistle, who approached eagerly.

 

One of the unfamiliar dolphins shoved Whistle aside. :Oh, no way is Whistle getting all of the nomfish,: he said in a commanding voice. :We’ll divide them equally.:

:Nomfish!: Click chittered excitedly. :I haven’t had one in ages!:

 

:So, you guys really like nomfish?: Fey asked.

 

Dolphins in Fantasia were created so that the higher the combat level of the fish, the more delicious it tasted. Compared to non-monster fish like mackerel, the level 21 nomfish were exotic treats.

:Any fish that’s hard to kill is delicious,: was Whistle’s explanation. :They’re vicious, though, so we generally avoid going near their territories.:

 

The nomfish were equally divided between the four dolphins, who reduced the fare to only three mackerel each due to the treat. Since neither Fey nor Blade carried fish with them, Sirena and Requiem provided the fare.

 

When Requiem pulled out the fish to pay for Fey, Sirena casually took the mackerel and fed them to Click as Blade gripped the dolphin’s harness. She then pulled fish out of her own pouch to feed Whistle as Fey grabbed the female dolphin’s harness.

Looking ‘confused’ at Requiem’s displeased expression (*subtly plot to make his life miserable*), Sirena fed her own taxi dolphin and zoomed off towards the southeast. Requiem’s ride, a female dolphin, gave him an impatient look at being left behind. He hurriedly fed her and they set off after the rest of the party.