Chapter 7 - Muted Strings

Disembarking at the docks, Raven and Songbird entered another bustling capital city. Namarien was an elven kingdom, but was known for its tolerance of other races.

Tolerance, perhaps, but not necessarily more. There’s a difference between tolerance and respect, after all. Fortunately both were half elves, and that bought them a certain amount of indifference.

Perfect for today, when Raven wanted to keep a low profile and get Elanor to their destination without incident.

They left the docks and walked swiftly through the mid-morning crowd. Raven said there was a safe house three districts over where they could lay low until nightfall. Then they would move again.

She’d asked him why all the secrecy was needed now that they were out of Myrrindel, but he just shushed her, pointing to his ears. People everywhere were listening, and it was best not to speak of anything important out in the open.

He said that to her three times during their short voyage, and by the third time, she’d gotten the hint. So she hugged her lute to her chest as they weaved through the crowd.

As they passed by an inn preparing for the lunch rush, a man tried to stop them.

“Can the lass play, stranger? We’ve need of music for the midday crowd.”

Before she could speak, Raven bowed low like a servant would, and said they were just transporting the instruments for a bard passing through town. Then, grabbing hold of Elanor’s hand, they faded back into the crowd.

They passed through the crafting district, and into an area filled with wonderful smells and sights. Carts lined the streets with men and women peddling everything from sweetcakes to skewered meats.

Raven stopped at three of the vendors to get them some food to tide them over for the day, and they moved on again.

Finally they arrived in a residential district, where houses abutted against each other to form a row of doors and windows alongside every narrow alley.

Looking around, Elanor thought to herself that this was definitely not the rich part of town.

But then again, it’s probably easier to hide here. Right?

Raven continued pushing forward, moving past a couple carrying a crying baby, excusing himself as he bumped into a wealthier man who was there to collect rents from his tenants.

She thought she glimpsed Raven’s hand slip inside the man’s coat during the collision, but it happened so quickly she couldn’t be certain.

Eventually they arrived at a house—if you could call it that. It was more like a corrugated metal wall with a rickety door in it. There was a window to the side of the door, but it was so dusty and dirty that she could see nothing of the inside of the place from the street as she stood waiting for Raven to… is he picking the lock?

A moment later, Raven pushed the door open, ushering Elanor inside and locking the door behind them.

He moved a couch to the side, and a hatch in the floor caught her by surprise. They stepped down the ladder into a surprisingly spacious room below, and he closed the hatch on top of them.

“At last,” he said, exhaling. “We can finally speak freely here. Just keep your voice down. I’m sure you have a lot of questions. I can answer some. But I was only tasked with protecting and transporting you so I don’t know a lot.”

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He opened up his pack and brought out the meats and pastries they had picked up from the street vendors. Elanor looked at the spread a moment and realized how hungry she was. After years in captivity where water and only the bare essential nutrition was provided, she found the rich taste of normal food exhilarating.

Yet, she restrained herself, allowing her sense of discipline overpower her more primal desire to shove every morsel in her mouth at once.

Raven chuckled softly.

“Go ahead, you can eat. All this is for you, I have my own traveling rations. Just… don’t eat it all at once, okay? You’ll get stomachache.”

Elanor smiled and looked greedily at the stash.

“Are you sure? You don’t want any of it?”

Raven just nodded, taking a small package from his pouch and unwrapping it, revealing a stack of flatbread. He took one piece and wrapped the rest, replacing it in the bag.

“Sometimes I forget that, despite your talent, your skill, and your destiny, you are still a fourteen year old girl who hasn’t seen much of the world yet.”

She had just bitten a piece of meat from a skewer, and was chewing it, but she looked up at him. Staring into his eyes, she got the feeling he wasn’t being cruel.

Just stating facts, I guess, she thought. It’s not like he’s wrong. What do I know of the world?

“I guess you’re right. I was born in a small village in the countryside and the only time I left there, all I saw was a prison cell and the inside of taverns and private parlors.”

Raven put his hand on Elanor’s shoulder.

“I am sorry that you were treated like that. You should be allowed to be just a girl. But I’m afraid that fate is moving too fast for that. Goldenvale held you as his songbird, but he actually did us a favor.”

He looked at her with compassion in his eyes.

“Keeping you hidden away like that ensured that nobody knew of your emergence as The Songweaver. But now that word has gotten out about your performance, you will be hunted.”

She set the empty skewer down, now just a pointed stick.

“Why are they after me? What’s so special about—”

Raven cut her off.

“As I said, there’s only so much I can tell you. Only so much I know, in fact. But I can say this: There are factions who have been searching for you to appear for centuries, Elanor. You were born on a specific day under specific constellations. Your musical talents were foretold by lore written so long ago, the parchment itself is already faded.”

He paused a moment, still trying to decide how much he can tell her. How much he should tell her. She just looked on with innocent eyes, waiting.

Sighing, he continued.

“You got a second class, didn’t you? Dual classes assigned by the System?”

Elanor nodded.

“It’s called Discordant Virtuoso, which gives me enhancements to my musical abilities. And Nocturne of Silence, which seems to be like…”

“Like an assassin. That’s the part that was not written. And I have to say, my little Songbird… It’s going to affect a lot of what’s to come.”

She looked down at her hands. Since she got her dual classes, all callouses from playing had healed. Her voice felt stronger than ever before, and she could feel in a subtle way the power her voice carried when she spoke or sang.

Glancing back up at Raven, she asked a question that’s been on her mind since the attack on the ship.

“Who is after me?”

He leaned back in the chair. A long pause. Then:

“Well, first there are several groups after you because they want to stop the prophecy from coming true. Then I’m sure Malric’s father will be looking for you whenever he figures out what happened.”

He looked off to the side.

“I mean, the carnage you left behind. It was a sight to behold. Shocked me to the core, and I’ve seen some shit in my day…”

Elanor looked frightened by his words.

“I didn’t mean to kill them all. I just wanted to be free.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Every single one of those men deserved what they got. Your dispensing of karmic justice that day was perfect. I promise there was not an innocent one in the bunch.”

Raven finished his flat bread, and brushed his hands off.

“Anyway, that’s one side of the coin. Then there are at least three factions I’m aware of who want nothing more than to protect, teach and nurture you. To help you become who you must. Tonight, when darkness falls over Elethrae, I will take you to the first of these groups.”

He went to lean back and get some sleep, but remembered something.

“One more thing, Elanor. Don’t tell anyone the name of your classes again. Keep that private, okay? And except for those training you, don’t ever speak of your dual class. Nocturne of Silence is your secret alone from now on. Got that? This is to protect you.”

She nodded. “I understand.”