Previous – Next

Side A – Nia

The flowers and trees of the Darkwood still lived. Nia could feel that without drumming at all. There was a vital beat which thrummed within them, but it was being held in a strange sort of stillness, one she’d never encountered before, though the inner moment of a Resonance State was certainly similar.

“Can you hear that?” she asked, listening as carefully as she could.

In the distance, beyond what she could see around her, she heard the whistle of the winds playing through the treetops. She heard the faintest murmur of a far away brook. She heard birdsong but only from high above the treetops. Around her there was something other than silence, but no sound she could give a name to.

“Nope. There’s nothing here,” Gossma said, but Osdora put a hand on her arm.

“There is. It’s…it’s like a single beat that’s being stretched out and out and out,” Osdora said, her gaze going as distant as Nia’s had been.

“Take care,” Ilia warned, concern snapping through her words. “Whatever this is, it does seem to be contagious in some manner.”

“Contagious? You’ve had more people fall into this state?” Nia asked, more intrigued and less worried than she knew she ought to be.

“You’ve had drummers…” Osdora started to ask but cut herself off. “Pelegar. Did she stumble into this too?”

“That is why I came to greet you,” Ilia said. “This may be more perilous than you were informed it would be.”

“If it got Pelegar…” Gossma did not elaborate on just how bad that would be which was just fine by Nia..

“If it’s got Pelegar then we definitely need to get her out,” Osdora said.

“She’s a comrade you’d risk your lives for?” Ilia asked.

“She’s a comrade I cannot pass up the opportunity to tease mercilessly when we get her out of this,” Osdora said with confident glee. “But that will require that we manage to get her, and the rest of them out.”

“There’s a problem with that,” Nia said, bending down to put her ear to the ground.

“Several problems, I imagine,” Gossma said. “How many people did you say have fallen under this effect?”

“At last count it was thirty two,” Ilia said, “including both the people of stone and those of the woods.”

“I don’t think it’s the total number of people who are going to be the problem,” Nia said. “I think it’s the type of people.”

“Normally I would agree,” Osdora said. “This feels like a Resonance state, a strong one, and that should only be possible from someone who is very good at drumming making a very foolish mistake. For the Elves, this shouldn’t be a part of their world at all.”

“It wasn’t designed to be, but it demonstrably is,” Ilia said. “Which does make a certain among of sense.”

“Because we’re part of the same world,” Nia said. “We each have our own magics but the world that lies underneath us is shared by all of us.”

“Yes, there is that,” Ilia said. “Also though, the Stone Gods stole our work.”

Side B – Yasgrid

Yasgrid hadn’t expected Karsda Naswuf to recognize her. To the best of Yasgrid’s recollection, she’d never set eyes on Margrada’s grandmother, much less formally been introduced to her. Also, and this seemed like a somewhat relevant point, Yasgrid looked just a trifle different from how she had when she lived in Frost Harbor, on account of her wearing elf body.

“Aww, you’re back Mar! Gimme a hug!” Karsda had said with a glorious smile the moment she laid eyes on her granddaughter. The smile sank into a disbelieving frown and a look of exasperation as she peered over Margrada’s shoulder and saw Yasgrid waiting patiently. “What’s Osdora’s kid doing here?”

Karsda had been a member of Frost Harbor’s Shatter Band. She’d retired a few years after Osdora joined. Yasgrid remembered there being some sort of rivalry between the two as Karsda had been the band’s principal drummer for years and Osdora’s arrival had led to fierce arguments over who should be given the primary seat in the band.

By retiring, Karsda had theoretically put those arguments to rest, though whether that was a tacit admission that Osdora was the more talented of the two of them or the result of one of the many infirmities Shatter Drummers could pick up on the road finally catching up with her had led to more than a few sprawling, multi-blockwide brawls even months afterwards.

“Hello and a pleasure to meet you Ms. Naswuf,” Yasgrid said, at a loss for how else to respond.

“Ms. Naswuf? Karsda’s all anyone’s ever called me, and I don’t see a need to change now,” Karsda said, pivoting and heading back into her house.

“That’s not true Gram,” Margrada said. “Mr. Rogsden calls you Karry.”

“If she makes bread for me for thirty years, maybe she can too,” Karsda said and began rummaging in her kitchen cabinets.

“I’m not much for making bread,” Yasgrid said, bewildered and conflicted. “I usually got mine from Hegsda’s bakery.”

On the one hand, she was deeply curious to learn how Karsda had instantly identified her. On the other, using her sorcery, while possibly effective felt like a trespass of some kind and so she held her magic tight within.

“Poor girl. Didn’t your mother ever take you to Beldoves?” Karsda asked as she produced three mugs and plates.

“She did, but my house was too far from there. By the time I got to them in the morning, they’d already sold out,” Yasgrid said, remembering all too clearly her disappointment at missing out on morning pastries after she’d moved out on her own.

“Should of just magicked yourself over there, or is all this something new?” Karsda asked, waving a hand towards Yasgrid.

It was only then that Yasgrid noticed the pale film which seemed to cover Karsda’s eyes and should have left her quite blind.

Previous – Next