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Side A – Yasgrid

Yasgrid felt the end of the song drawing near not because she was growing tired of it, if anything she was desperately curious to see where else it might lead them all, but because she felt the call of her future beckoning to her. 

The Roadies had a drum problem, one she knew she didn’t fully understand, but one that she knew she could at least bring them a new perspective on resolving. One she was delighted to investigate further and learn more about.

So that was what she started weaving into the song. Not an urgency to wrap up what they were doing – she suspected the song would continue long after she and Nia bowed out from contributing to it, there were too many other people with too many other stories to share for anything else but that to happen – but rather the lure of tomorrow that she knew was pulling at them all.

Sharing with people that they were all standing in a moment when change was terribly, terribly possible was what she and Nia had planned to do, but in doing so Yasgrid could see that the knowledge of the possibilities before them wouldn’t be quite enough to motivate most people to action. What they needed, what she’d needed, was a lure. Something to strive for, a guiding star to pull them into a new tomorrow by their own yearning.

And so she sung of the directionless wanderings she’d ambled through Frost Harbor with time and again. The feeling that there were things she was supposed to be doing, things people had told her were important but which felt so apart, so distant, so untied to anything that could really happen or that would really bring her joy.

Shatter drumming practice? That wasn’t supposed to be easy, and she knew that. She understood and accepted that hard work was required to master any skill and that mastering the drums held challenges no other practice did. She saw the life that investment had brought her mother and could feel the excitement of attaining a position in the Shatter Band long before she’d ever touched a drum. It had been a goal given to her and encouraged at every step. It was a goal she’d made significant progress towards, learning and listening and playing until she was more beaten than the drum. 

With time and energy, she’d paid for the skill to lay claim to the heritage her mother offered, and enjoyed every moment of pride that had brought her.

But when she’d looked towards the future and imagined her life in the band, she hadn’t rejoiced at those days to come. She didn’t hate them. She just felt disconnected from them. She could play, and played well, but it was work. A chore. Something to fulfill expectations and obligations.

Where joy had failed, will and determination had carried her onwards.

Down the wrong path.

She changed her song on that note, and began to sing of the future which lay before her, the one which called to her promising answers to mysteries her curiosity was near-mad about, the deepest and more important one being the mystery of the woman who’d accepted her proposal and who was going to be waiting for her in each of those tomorrows to come.

Side B – Nia

Nia picked up the change in Yasgrid’s song immediately and joined her with gusto.

It wasn’t hard to find passion to match Yasgrid’s, she had work to do and work she loved. Going back to the Darkwood was, somewhat, enormously, terrifying, especially since the Darkwood seemed to be actively aware of her existence, but even that added an element of excitement into her life.

As she played, she heard her own beats. Heard what they were telling her.

What she was doing wasn’t safe. She’d bungled things several times, and paid a variety of prices for that. 

But she was still there. 

She’d made mistakes and she’d survived them, even ones she hadn’t seen coming and couldn’t have imagined dealing with when her life was so much smaller and safer.

Without changing places with Yasgrid, Nia was sure she would never have known that. Growing up she’d felt the weight of her father’s passing as something else, as a general hostility of the world, and the general helplessness of people before that.

Bad things happened, irrevocable bad things, and no amount of crying about it afterward could change that.

Nia had thought that Naosha had been the one to hold her back, to insist that her daughter be safe and remain safe at all times, and on occasion that had been true.

But Nia had absorbed far more of that lesson than she’d ever noticed. She’d held herself back and wrapped herself within boundaries and given those boundaries her mother’s name. 

I’m sorry, she played into the song, that was unfair of me.

It hadn’t been until she was a world away from all the boundaries she’d once known that she’d let herself be free to discover where her limits truly lay.

So that was what she added to the song. As Yasgrid sang of finding joy to follow as a guiding star, Nia added beats to break the past the limits of where that joy could be found. Was it dangerous? Was is difficult? Was it worth it? Yes to all.

Yes, and always yes and around that she build the backbone of the song to a crescendo, feeling the crowd raise their voices and beat their drums in a crescendo with hers.

She carried them over into the denouement and with a quiet hum in her hands and ever softer singing from Yasgrid gave the song over to the players who’d been drawn in and the singers from whom words still waited to burst forth.

“This feels like a dream,” Yasgrid said, though only to Nia.

“Maybe it is, but I think it’s one they’ll remember when they wake up from it,” Nia said.

“You may need to provide them some assistance with that,” King said, speaking to them both at once. “This dream you’ve woven does not seem likely to allow any of them to leave.”

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