Ballad in the Dark

The young bard Strahan watched the scene before him. His heart was heavy with the sight of Barig's only daughter and soul survivor, who now thrust herself towards the unicorn embracing the unicorn's breast and long neck to herself closely. The girl was hysterical. Blathering through her tears words that Strahan could not comprehend. He wondered if even the girl understood the words she spoke.

"Kenzi," a woman called to the girl soothingly covering the shaking young woman with a thick warm woolen cloak. Though the weather had not yet turned cold within the valley, the girl was shaking like a leaf in her sorrow. The woman soothed the girl with wordless sounds slowly prying her from the unicorns body.

It was a shame he thought to see Kenzi in such hysterics. The sudden loss of her father had been not only a blow to the young girl, but also the entire western valley community. Word of his death had spread as far as the Drazgow Market where the bard had been performing for the street festival within a day.

Strahan had taken no thought what so ever to make the decision he would return to the upper valley to attend the mans pyre. Some time back Barig had been a saving grace in the bards life in more ways than one. Strahan felt he owed it to the man to be there in attendance for his final burning. Playing at the beloved mans pyre was truely the least Strahan felt he could do.

The journey had been a hastened one. Strahan had arrived late the night before completely road weary seeking a room knowing he would find none. The bard had been fully prepaired to spend the night in the stables so long as they were warm. To his suprise, word had preceeded that Strahan Keveiron was returning for the pyre ritual. A room had been reserved in his name by Kenzi herself.

Strahan had intended to thank the girl, who had in her grief been handling a full villages worth of preperations. She had however been too preoccupied with duties. The time had simply not come where Strahan had a moment to take the young woman aside and express his sympathies much less his gratitude. Her thoughtfulness in reserving a room for a traveling bard had been a truely considerate gesture. One Strahan was sure he would never forget. Hospitality it seemed was a trait that ran in the family.

In all honesty, Strahan had known Kenzi since she was a mere infant. The last time he had seen her, she had been but a round fat little brat. The years had passed kindly for her. Rounding her figure out to a volumptous shape that Strahan found himself admiring far more than was decent, especially for the circumstances. Still he could not help but look on the young woman and wonder if perhaps there were not a ten year age gap between them, perhaps she would be interested in him as a man and not merely a traveling bard.

Stepping off to the side of the gathered crowd Strahan played
on. He reguarded the spectacle with vague disinterest. Unicorns were at times beautiful majestic sites to behold, however in his travels he had seen more than his fair share. It was not that Strahan disliked unicorns. They were infact elegant creatures, he however could not much tollerate the abruptness of the beasts. As a bard Strahan had attended many pyre rituals. At most a unicorn had come to perform a short purification upon the body, but never had he really seen one show any actual interest in anything other than there own comings and goings.

Frankly, Strahan thought unicorns in general were a bit self absorbed.

Strahan strummed his lute, unwilling to put an end to the beautiful song. It was one of his favorites. The finger work on the refrain was such a bit of lightly intricate notes that Strahan did not have the heart to end the melody mid-song. He let the slow moving harmony breeze though his body, intoxicating his mind with its beauty. It was always this way with Strahan when he played. Music was not a livelyhood for Strahan as it was for most bards. More for him, music was a courseing breathing true to life current of emotion that bled from his fingers as blood would from his very verins.

"The sun is setting," a voice spoke bringing Strahan back from a musical haze.

Strahan had not realized his eye had been closed. Opening them he found himself staring at a local preistess. She appeared somewhat irritated. Strahan assumed the elder woman had been trying to get his attention for some time.

He only nodded in understanding. The song he played transitioned from one lilting melody to the next as a river current might blend soft and gently over a pebblestone brook. Strahan nodded to the priestess as he strummed the traditional hymn to the goddess that signified the pyre ritual was about to begin.

This was something Strahan could have done without. The irritating praises to the Goddess Trinity. The bard was hardly what one would call a religious man. He attended the funeral receptions more for the free food and drink after the burning of the body than any feelings of duty to religion. Mechanically Strahan played the expected traditional hymns while one priestess to each guise of the Great Goddess performed a short arcane ritual. One to the Maiden Lharaesa, another to the Mother Moragwen and lastly to the Eldercrone Rukiyah. Each priestess fullfilling her duty the body was blessed and then set abalze. Another prayer to the Goddess was whispered through out the solemn crowd as the sun set far beyond the western horizon. The only light now to see by was that of the rising moon and the pyre before the crowd of mourners.

Strahan loathed this part of any ritual. It was up to the family and those grieving how they wanted to mourn. Strahan however had known Barig personally. The hulking beast of a man had been a jovial teddy bear. Strahan could not imagine the man wanting his loved ones to sit about sobbing as his corpse burned through to the sunrise in solemn wordless silence.

Taking the initiative upon himself Strahan transitioned his song from a bittersweet slow dulcet tone, to a more fast paced dance song. One that had been known by all as a favorite to Barig. Picking up his feet Strahan swaggered through the crowd incouraging the people to rejoyce with him. Kenzi was one of the first to smile through her tears. She took the hand of a young lad beside her and began a series of footsteps that quickly led much of the assembled mourners into a roucas celebration.

Strahan played on before allowing a few of the locals to perform as they pleased. He had need to attend to the large buffett of food provided near the forest edge. Strutting quickly to the ale barrels, Strahan tapped himself a round oaken mug to the brim with frothy rich coal black ale. "Tonight," the young bard announced to a local hillsman standing beside the barrels "I fully intended to get stark raving drunk! I believe it is what Barig would have wanted."

The man besides the ale barrel grinned a hearty approval slapping the bard upon the shoulder. Ale sloshed within the mug nearly spilling. "The old bear would have been insulted by anything else!" the stranger agreed, obviously he too having known Barig personally.

Holding the mug to his lips Strahan downed the entire tankard in one long breathless swig. Winded he slammed the mug back down upon the makeshift wooden bar, whipping a bit of froth from his mouth. As he contemplated having another draft of the fine rich ale, Strahan noticed a glint of light off to the side of the celebration. A feast was fully underway now. All who had attended the pyre in solemn hushed tones, kicked up there heels dancing and rejoycing in the life of a man whom none would forget. Strahan strained his eyes a moment to investigate the strange glint of light towards the forest wall. He was somewhat suprised to find sight of the unicorn's horn shining in the moonlight.

Strange, the bard thought to himself, as he allowed the hillsman to refill his mug, that the unicorn had not left yet.

Before the bard had the chance to truely contemplate his actions, he found himself walking towards the beautiful beast. She stood alone, hidden within shadows. The celebration bustled now with life. Many of the mourners had taken to there own amusments. The novelty of a unicorn amungst them having been replaced by the revelry and enjoyment of the evening. Strahan however, had always wanted to speak with one. He felt this night was perhaps his best and maybe only chance ever to do so. The bard was not about to let the opportunity pass him by.

Swinging past the buffett table as he neared her, Strahan plucked up a rather juicy looking valley pear and offered it to the unicorn. "It's customary to enjoy yourself at one of these things." he told the rather starteled unicorn who seemed fairly confused to find a man speaking with her, on what appeared to be nothing more than a whim.

She nodded a gratitude to the bard and politely took the pear from his hand. Chomping the fruit with a delicate grace she swallowed and continued to simply stand and watch the celebration. Strahan ignored her put upon deameanor, and proceeded to speak as if she had invited him to the conversation. "You know most of your kind don't stay past the purification." he said knowing he was talking more to himself than her.

"I know it means a lot to Kenzi." Strahan nodded towards the girl who had just a short time ago been sobbing as a child, stood surrounded by young men. She was now the center of her own little group of admirers. Strahan felt warmth in his heart to see the girl would not be alone in her grief. She deserved to be treasured. Strahan knew her father would have been glad to see she would also not go uncared for. "Well anyways thanks for staying."

This statement seemed to amaze the unicorn. She turned her head and looked down towards the human man leaning casually against a fence post besides her. "You are welcome." she said, her voice a lyrical melody to his trained bards sensitivity.

"Why don't more unicorns stay longer?" he asked curiously. It was a question that had been on his mind for some time now. One he had always thought to ask a unicorn, but the opportunity had never really arisen.

The unicorn tilted her body weight and reguarded the young man carefully before speaking. Her nostrels flared an abrupt snort. "The smell."

It was something Strahan had never really considered. Of course the scent of burning flesh was not exactly appealing. It had never however occured to him that a unicorn may have a hightened sense of smell or perhaps stronger senses at all really. He nodded understanding.

Before Strahan had a moment to really consider his thoughts, the unicorn now spoke a question for him. "Why do you rejoyce in this mans death?" confusion seemed to plague the unicorns aqualine blue eyes.

This Strahan realized, was why she had remained so long. The revelry was something she lingered behind in hopes of understanding. Strahan smiled gladly willing to explain the peculiar human habit.

"Barig was the kind of man who would give the shirt off his back, if only you'd ask it. He'd feed a stranger in return for a days work when the work offered was pittifully less than the food on the plate. Everyone loved him and no one could ever find words to speak against him. Barig loved himself a good hearty feast and thoroughly enjoyed himself as such."

"But you disrespect such a great mans death by celebrating do you not?" the unicorn interupted the bards speach, in true honest confusion.

Strahan shook his head. "We dont think about his death so much as we are here to remember his life." the bard explained. He glanced across the gathering and saw people talking, sharing stories of the great man whom none would ever speak with again. It tore at his heart to imagine a world without the great hulking man in it. He turned his attention quickly back to the unicorn who still seemed somewhat at a loss. "It is an honor to who he was to keep that in our hearts. We do not want to remember Barig as a corpse and ashes blowing to the winds. For us he will always be the great kindly man we have known him to be for all the years of our lives. This is how we wish to remember him."

The unicorn nodded a somewhat stalled response. It was apparent she did not fully understand what Strahan was trying to say. Perhaps this was something she could not understand at all. Unicorns were not very social beings. "Then why shed tears and sob, if you are to honor death with laughter?" she asked.

Strahan considered the question with some thought before answering. No one had ever put the circumstances into that light for him before. "I dont know about you unicorns but we regular folk have a whole heck of a lot of emotions. Keeping them inside of us can be a very bad thing. It isn't good to sit on your pain. It festers like that. Like a fresh wound from a sword or a spear. We need to irrigate it. Crying does that for us." He was unsure if the words made sense properly to her. The analogy might have been clearer were the rich dark ale not beginning to cloud his thoughts.

The unicorn nodded. "I believe I understand."

For a moment there was silence. A sort of quite understanding between the two as they watched the feasting around the pyre. Many people were gathered throughout the wide open space sharing common tales of old master Barig. Strahan watched a community gather together for one last goodbye to the man who had been like a father to many and a brother to most.

Two young women played a harmonic duet as they strolled through the crowd. One girl on a beautifully crafted wooden flute, the other on an intricatly designed hand harp that Strahan could not help but admire. As the women strolled Strahan took note of the people the girls were passing by. A large assemblage of men had gathered roucasly around the ale barrels, each man drunker and more boastful than the next. Beyond the kegs was a buffett that though being assended upon by the whole crowd, Strahan had still yet to see the platters lessen with food. Handmaids made continual trips to the feast having obviously been sent down by way of the local inn.

The night having grown long most children had been taken by this time to there beds. Yet Strahan did catch the odd random glimps of short feathery haired heads bounce through the sea of adults. One young boy imparticulare had attracted Strahan's attention. He was a thinly young lad wearing ragged clothes that stood out amungst the mostly well dressed assemblage of mourners. Strahan wondered as the boy snatched at the buffett, if this was one of the hillsmans lads. The hillfolk were after all hardly known for there proper manners. The boy lingered by the buffett, his eyes scanning the crowd much as Strahan's were. As if he were looking for something or waiting for someone.

"Who was he?" the unicorn asked breaking the ambient silence.

Strahan jumped not expecting the unicorns words. "Hunh!?" he muttered turning to look at her.

"The man upon the pyre. Who was he?" the soft lyrical tone of her voice lulled Strahan. Her words were like a song, and the bard could not help but let himself feel intoxicated by her very voice. He had never guessed the unicorns spoke with such beauty in there words. "Surely he must have been someone of great importance to the village." she said, as if a thought that were spoken aloud for his benefit.

The bard let a wide grin the length of his mouth. "He was." Strahan's words were a muted whisper.

"An elder? A sage? Was he the leader of you people?" she asked searching to understand.

Strahan chuckled amused by her reaction. "Yes he was all of them. Barig Van Edderbrock owned the Whitedragon Inn, he was the local barkeep."

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