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Side A – Yasgrid

The zoo hadn’t been the highlight of their day but that was only because a trip down into Gray Rift had led them to a tiny little bakery that made the best Redberry Turnovers Yasgrid or Kyra had ever eaten in their lives.

Most of the day though had been spent wandering around the two conjoined towns and talking, not about anything great or weighty. They’d hopped from thought to thought as various things they passed by brought ideas or stories to mind.

Dinner came late since they’d visited more than a few shops with Stoneling delicacies that Kyra had insisted they needed to try, more than a few of which Yasgrid herself had never indulged in. In that time though they’d also checked in with Horgi and Grash to learn that a contingent of Roadies were preparing to return to Frost Harbor the next day to begin the ceremony for Nia’s improperly buried drum. Most of the Roadies would remain behind though since there seemed to be continuing drumming-adjacent issues that were sprouting up as people began playing variations on the songs they’d been swept up in over the last several days.

“I’m surprised they haven’t just banned drumming entirely for some duration?” Kyra said.

“They wouldn’t have much luck with that,” Yasgrid said. “The Roadies handle all of the concert quality drums, but a lot of families have their own drums that they care for themselves.”

“I think I sympathize with the Roadies, though I probably shouldn’t,” Kyra said. “My old Fate Dancer roots are screaming at me about how powerful items need to be controlled at all times.”

“That’s an argument that’s come up a lot in most Stoneling communities,” Yasgrid said. “In some there are communal spots for the drums, so no one has direct access to them. In others there’s writs people need to earn to show they’re properly trained. And then there are places like Frost Harbor where it’s a bit more ‘do whatever you want’. Mom always liked that about it, but it’s definitely given us a more adversarial relationship with the Roadies than in some other places.”

“Is there more of a problem with drum-related crimes there?” Kyra asked.

“Sort of? Using the drums themselves for criminal activities is a bit tricky since drumming is many things but subtle is not one of them. It can happen but somethings that are done by drumming can also be undone by drumming, so if you want to kill someone or steal their stuff, you’re mostly better off using tools other than a drum. Also, the drums themselves can complain about being put to a use they don’t like.”

“Wait. The drums have a preference for how they’re used?”

“Yeah. It’s why we don’t drum up breakfasts and stuff like that.”

“But you were surprised at the idea that there was a presence within the drums? It visibly shook the Roadies when Nia noticed it!”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, we always assumed it was a metaphor that the drums don’t like doing certain things. Finding out it was literally true was like saying ‘you know I think my house likes being painted blue’ because you thought it fit in with your neighborhood better and having your house respond with ‘I’d prefer green’.”

Side B – Nia

Nia’s demonstration of her drumming had lasted all of one note. Just a single beat was all it had taken to convince Margrada that Nia was telling the truth. 

A single heartbeat later and they were both in agreement that proceeding very carefully was the wisest of wisest moves possible.

“It should be safe for me to drum on actual drums still though,” Nia said. “I’ve been doing that for months now and we know it’s worked out okay so far.”

“For Nia-shaped values of okay,” Margrada teased her.

“Hey I was hiding who I was for like half that time and trying to play like Yasgrid did. I only really started learning properly…”

Nia didn’t get anymore out past the kiss that Margrada smothered her protest with. As smothered protests went, Nia found absolutely no objections and swiftly had no idea what words she’d been planning to say anyways.

“Good, you didn’t die this time,” Margrada said a few minutes later when she broke their embrace.

“I didn’t…what?” Nia asked.

“Last night, when I kissed you then, you kind of died on us, or at least that’s what I thought was happening,” Margrada said. “I was afraid…”

“That you’d killed me? Oh, no, no, no. That was all me,” Nia said.

“I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to chance it again,” Margrada said.

That they were alone on the peak was a good thing.

It meant Nia didn’t have to hold back on proving to her fiance just exactly how much she was willing to ‘chance it again’ and for how long and in how many different ways.

Much later, cuddled against one of the of sparse trees near the top of the peak, Nia found her fingers tracing little meaningless patterns through the hair at the base of Margrada’s neck as she quietly listened to Margrada’s heartbeat.

“There’s magic here too you know,” she said, placing a kiss a handswidth below Margrada’s collarbone.

“Is that an Elven belief?” Margrada asked, placing little kisses on top of Nia’s head.

“Probably,” Nia said. “Probably everyone else’s too. I think we’re all magical beings, and I can’t imagine a culture where no one recognizes that.”

“I think the Elves have a little more magic than most,” Margrada said. “No Stoneling could have pulled off that water hose spell that your people did at the fire today.”

“That was just technique and pre-existing contracts coming into play,” Nia said. “We’re more than that, we’re just so used to ourselves that we don’t see it as much. It feels like we’re mundane and unexciting when we’re walking, talking miracles.”

“I’ll settle for a walking, talking you for, you know, the rest of our very, very long lives,” Margrada said.

“Deal!” Nia agreed. “This does give me an idea.”

“An idea that does not involve drumming. Of any sort.” Margrada was not making a suggestion or asking a question.

“Surprisingly, for me, it does not! I just think I might be able to help those Fate Dancers.”

“How?”

“I just need to talk to Endings.”

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