Author: Tyrlien
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It had started like any other day with the sun breaking through the window to stream across the floor of her room. A sharp light, like one of her knives, cut through her eyes to the back of her skull. The Chaos that was a part of her had tightened its grip the night before. Her blood burned and memories that had faded became as real as the day they happened. The fayberry wine the Bard left for her had helped soothe the madness long enough for her to fall asleep.
But now, lying in bed she closed her eyes tightly against the morning to block out not only the light but the memories that came with it. Once again she rolled out of the warm bed by the fireplace to draw the shade across the window.
Tyrlien was hungry though it wasn’t a hunger in a physical sense. The journey from Aerynth to Norrath had ended almost a year ago yet she was still weary. It had drained her of more than just the protective magic her tattoos had provided. She had been close to the edge then. Close to letting the Cold overcome her a final time. “Aelfborn”, she muttered under her breath, “my curse”. As she turned from the window the mirror on the dresser captured her and she rubbed at the faded tattoos on her face, making them appear darker, but the bruising would not bring back their protection. “My price”, she said to her reflection.
Fully awake, she dressed and pulled on her boots, tucking her knives into their hiding places and started towards the stairs. Today was just another day in Qeynos. The Bard had been gone for almost a fortnight. He had taken the boat from the harbor to Nektulos Forest and from there would be traveling through the Enchanted Lands to a place he called Rivervale. She had wanted to go but the thought of the boat had terrified her, afraid the deep waters would pull her to their icy depths. She had heard the stories of what swam in those waters and that had frightened her more than being alone with the Chaos. So off he had gone to collect his songs and stories, promising to return within a fortnight. Tonight he would be home, and she had an errand to run before then.
Stepping out of Fish’s Alehouse and Inn into the busy street of Qeynos Harbor, Tyrlien was taken back at the sights she saw. It had snowed and these silly people had piled it up into three balls stacked one on top the other and then dressed it up with hats and stones. There were huge red and white sticks with curly tops sticking out of the ground on every street corner. Then the people whom she regularly thought of as fools looked even more foolish to her as they danced down the streets wearing robes and red, blue, or green hats with a white snowball that dangled from the end atop their heads!
Shaking her head she walked past the harbor towards the bank trying to avoid bumping into any of the crazed people in the street. Upon entering the square, right where the Clock of Ak’Anon was supposed to be, there was a huge tree! Not only had she never seen anything so tall, there were also colored sparkling lights all over it with what looked like a starburst over the top of it. Underneath its boughs were brightly wrapped boxes and more of those red and white sticks. But what caught her eye was a wardrobe. Puzzled why someone would leave a wardrobe in the middle of the town square, Tyrlien moved closer and as she did the wardrobe began to glow. Curious as to what had happened to Qeynos overnight; she put her hands on the doorknobs and pulled open the wardrobe’s doors. Her palms began to tingle as she felt herself being pulled into the swirling snow and lights that were inside the wardrobe! Tyrlien closed her eyes sure the Chaos had taken her.
Then she heard the music. “Bard”, she thought.
“Open your eyes, Tyrlien”, whispered a familiar voice.
Obeying the voice she knew to be her friend, Tyrlien looked at the place she had stepped into. Snowy cliffs and islands, rainbows and trees, and more of the snow people she had seen in the streets lay below her. She stammered, “The people in the city? What has happened? Where is this place?”
“This is Frostfell”, replied the Bard with a smile, “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Whoosh! All of a sudden Tyrlien was hit in the shoulder with a snowball, a hardened fruitcake bounced off her elbow, and chocolate cake splashed on her cheek! Her hand went to the knives she had hidden earlier.
“You won’t need those”, the Bard told her and she relaxed.
She saw the Crazy Berserker hiding behind the tree with a handful of fruitcake; a tall Kerran trying to fit underneath a table with a pile of snowballs beside him, and a small serene Monk peering over the Bard’s shoulder eating a piece of chocolate cake. They all rushed towards her. It was her friends, her little family here in Norrath, and they all started talking at once about Frostfell.
“Let’s go ride the rainbow”, said the Crazy Berserker.
“How do you ride a rainbow?”, asked Tyrlien, puzzled again.
“You’ll see!”, they all shouted and ran off.
The Bard looked at Tyrlien and placed a small wooden music box that he had picked it up in his travels to Rivervale, the home of his people, carefully into her hands. Lifting the lid, Tyrlien could hear the music spilling out and she felt whole again. More than a box, it was a promise. The music of the Bard, Frostfell, would be with her through the Chaos, always, until the end.
“I don’t have anything to give you”, Tyrlien cried and started, “I want you to know…”
“I know”, the Bard said, “You already have.”
“Now let’s go catch that rainbow!”
Happy Frostfell!
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