A Hero's Ballad

      A Hero’s Ballad: Nocturne

     ~~

     It was a cool evening in the wilds of the Haunted Woods. Lightning bugs filled the trees like dazzling ornaments. A gentle breeze moved the treetops wave-like reaching hands, making them appear alive. Within these woods, four battle-weary heroes were setting up camp for the night in a small clearing. Among them, a red Techo in a white robe laid a pile of firewood into a small fire pit, while a blue Acara with a red tunic readied her wand with a spell.

     “Fireball,” she said, fighting back a yawn. A fist-sized ball of flame emerged from her wooden wand and fired straight into the pit.

     The Techo jumped out of the way, grabbing his tail. “Ahh, Mipsy! Watch where you point that thing!”

     “Whoops, sorry Velm,” she said with a shrug.

     Out of the tent emerged a White Blumaroo. His stern face betrayed his otherwise youthful features. He wore a green tunic, breeches, and a metal chestplate with the insignia of Meridell at the front. An ornate sword was affixed at his waist. He gave a perplexed glance at Mipsy and Velm, the latter who was still holding his tail, before turning to a green Eyrie in leather armour.

     “Talinia, how are our rations for the night?”

     “Pretty good, Captain Rohane,” she replied, her hands sorting through boxes of hardtack, water, and dried fruit. “We’ll have more than enough for a few days in the woods.”

     “Good,” he nodded. “And Mipsy, how’s the fire?”

     “Nice and hot.”

     “It nearly barbequed my tail,” Velm interrupted, holding his tail like an infant.

     “It’s not like you can’t just heal away the burn, Velm.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re being dramatic again.”

     The robed Techo snorted. “Remind me not to heal you in the next—"

     “Alright, alright,” Rohane made a cutting motion with his paws. He lifted a log from the woods and placed it by the fire. “Talinia, help me lift a few of these over here.”

     She jumped up from the supplies and grabbed the opposite end of a large, felled trunk. “You got it, Captain.”

     “I just wish we were at an inn tonight,” Mipsy sighed, gathering a few twigs to throw into the fire. It crackled and popped, giving off a yellowish glow. “Especially after we spent so long in Nox’s terrible Castle. I don’t think I’ll be able to hear the word ‘hand’ without involuntarily cringing for a long time.”

     “Yeah, but that would require gold,” said Velm, who winced when she said ‘hand.’ “The last of which bought our current supplies.”

     Talinia and Rohane placed the makeshift benches around the camp and sat down. For a few minutes, the crew stared in silence at the fire, watching it gently waver in the dimly lit night.

     A lightning bug landed on Rohane’s nose. He cracked a smile before gently offering his paw as a platform.

     “You made a friend,” said Mipsy, turning her eyes to the sights above, “in a surprisingly pretty place for being called the ‘Haunted Woods.’”

     “Yeah.” Rohane’s eyes crossed as he looked down at flashing visitor.

     The little creature hesitated before sauntering onto his paw. It tickled at his fur as it wheeled about in aimless wandering. He continued to offer it places to crawl before it opened its wings and flew away.

     More silence followed before Velm made a loud, almost comical cough. “So, everyone, why don’t we sing together?”

     Mipsy visibly sucked in her breath, Talinia gave a bemused look, and Rohane shook his head.

     “You don’t want me to sing,” said Mipsy, “but I can clap along with whatever.”

     Talinia shifted in her seat. “I’ll just listen.”

     When Rohane did not answer, Velm pushed the question. “Rohane? What about you?”

     The Blumaroo wrapped his arms around his neck. “My older brother, Reuben, used to run out of the room with his ears covered, shouting that my voice sounded like a wet Meowclops. After a while, I stopped. Never got any better.”

     “Wow, that’s kind of harsh,” quipped Velm. “I’m sure you’re at least as good as a dry Meowclops.”

     Rohane’s eyes narrowed. “Thanks,” he said through gritted teeth.

     “You’re welcome!” Velm added a wink for good measure.

     “My father loved his folk songs,” continued Rohane, doing his best to ignore the Techo’s goading, “and would entertain his fellow adventurers in taverns and inns. I tried to follow his example; it just didn’t work out.” He poked the fire with a stick. “But anyway. Velm, if you want to sing, sing. I’ll just listen, too.”

     Velm reached into his sack and removed a small lute. Before the others could ask, he added, “I got her as thanks for saving a kid’s life in the Lost Desert. Lucky for you guys I had plenty of time to practice before you found me.”

     The crew chuckled lightly as Velm strummed the strings. “She’s a bit flat,” he noted.

     “She?” Rohane’s right ear rose with confusion.

     “Yeah,” the Bard answered, hugging his prized instrument tight. “Her name is ‘Lucy.’”

     “… I don’t think I want to know,” responded the swordsman. The two ladies merely looked at each other and shrugged.

     Velm could scarcely hide his disappointment by the team’s lack of curiosity, but made a point to cradle her on his knee as he tuned the strings. Mipsy watched with interest as he meticulously worked his fingers from the first string, which he called the “chanterelle,” to the sets of strings that travelled across the instrument, tuning each pair with precision. Notes quavered in the air and reverberated against the surrounding trees as his fingers slid up and down the neck. When the instrument sounded melodious, he gave her a hardy strum and smiled contentedly. A low, somewhat flat base voice joined the rich song of the lute.

     Alas, my friend, you do me wrong,

     To cast me out so thoughtlessly.

     For I have known you for so long

     Delighting in your company.

     Green Hills was all my joy,

     Green Hills was my delight.

     Green Hills was my heart, my soul,

     And where would I go without thee?

     As Velm continued to the next verse, Mipsy attempted to clap on the first and third beat, but after a while clapped at random, offering a nervous thumbs-up when that failed. Rohane, on the other hand, was grinning, moving his head to the beat. Taking note of Rohane’s joy, the Eyrie gently laid her hand on his shoulder. The Blumaroo jolted back. Shifting his gaze between his shoulder and the Eyrie, he tilted his head, causing his ears to flop over to the side.

     “Everything okay?” asked Rohane.

     Velm stopped strumming and stared at the two of them.

     “Oh.” Redness crept into Talinia’s cheeks. “I noticed how happy the Captain looked when you played that song. It made me happy to see him at ease.”

      “Was it that obvious?” The Blumaroo sank in his seat. “My father often sang Green Hills at inns and taverns, it’s a popular song in Trestin.”

     Wearing a smirk, Mipsy elbowed Rohane. “You heard this song in your home town? Come on, you gotta share it now.”

     “It would be nice to hear it since you know the songs,” added Velm. “Even if you don’t sound very good, knowing the lyrics helps.”

     “Only if you want to, Captain,” noted Talinia, tensing as she saw Rohane’s face twisting with annoyance. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to.”

     “You know you want to!” Mipsy sang the word ‘know’ with such a sharp note that Velm visibly shuddered.

     The bard positioned his fingers and played a C chord. “I’ll add the accompaniment!”

     “Fine!” shouted Rohane, springing up from his seat. He made a beeline for the rations. “But only one song, after I drink some water, and only if Reuben isn’t told. He’ll tease me in every letter for the next year.”

     “Yes!” Velm and Mipsy high-fived each other.

     Rohane took a deep breath before taking slow, deliberate sips of metallic-tasting well water. A Whoot made a distant, haunting call from deep in the woods, causing a few critters to skitter in the brush.

     “We’re all friends here, Rohane.” Talinia offered a hand on his shoulder again. “No matter what, we’ll support you.”

     “Thanks.”

     “So, what song do you want to sing, Rohane?” asked Velm. “If I don’t know it, I’ll make up some good lute tunes to make it sound better. Most clerics in the Lost Desert have some basic bardic training, including yours truly.” He waggled his brow, causing Mipsy to laugh out loud.

     Kneading his temples, Rohane paced the camp, nearly tripping on the logs in the process. “How about the ‘Song of Nolan?’”

     Velm wiggled in place from excitement, rapidly clapping as he did. “Oh, a classic! Just give me a cue when you want to start.”

     After giving an exasperated sigh and muttering, “I’d rather not at all,” the Blumaroo forced a terse nod. “Now.”

     “Okay, Rohane, I’ll play for three measures, then it’s your go.”

     The tune began lively and bright with a fast cadence. Velm gave Rohane a slight bow at the start of the fourth measure.

     The trio could barely make out a sound as Rohane muttered the words to himself. They craned forward, causing the swordsman to lower his voice even more. Velm motioned towards his leader, giving him eye contact while gently playing the lute. Noticing the attention, Rohane rubbed at his sword arm with discomfort.

     After a few mumbled measures, Rohane squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth to sing:

     Nolan, Nolan, King Leon’s sister’s son,

     Renowned through all of Meridell for battles you have won.

     In Council hear you carry on and plea to go to war,

     And aid his ailing homeland against its rebel lords.

     Nolan, Nolan, sound out your mighty horn.

     Try to call the troops back that rode out yestermorn.

     The king has heard you call afar, resources they say nay,

     ‘Tis only our young Nolan, out here to save the day.

     Nolan, Nolan your name will live in song

     Whenever brave Neopians take arms to fight what’s wrong.

     The fairest flower of chivalry to bloom in all the land,

     The noblest of all the knights of our fair Meridell.

     Noticing a lack of response, Rohane slowly opened his eyes, biting his lip as he did. Not only weren’t they holding their ears in pain, they were staring wide-eyed at him, mouths agape. Rohane reeled back.

     Velm shook his head as if removing himself from a trance. “That was—”

     “Where in Neopia did you learn to sing that well?!” Mipsy jumped in front, cutting off the cleric and causing Rohane to reflexively step back. Her ears were flapping with excitement. “Whose voice did you take? Is it a spell? Can I use your voice, and if so and—”

     “I think what Mipsy’s trying to say,” interjected Talinia, gently pulling down the excited Acara to a seat, “is that you’re amazing. Truly.”

     “Rohane,” said Velm, as he improvised a tune on his lute, “that sounded as good as any bard I’ve ever heard. And I’ve heard many.”

     “You’re joking.” In response to all this praise, Rohane stumbled backwards, tumbling over a log and landing face up. A few leaves blew around and landed atop him. One tickled his nose, causing him to sneeze it away. “I think you all just landed a critical hit. Or at least a stunning blow.” He tried to stand up and collapsed back down.

     “You’re literally shaking.” Velm placed the lute on the ground and replaced it with a wooden staff, his face scrunching with concern. “Let me heal you. Or at least bring some rations.”

     “No, no.” Rohane waved his paw in the air dismissively before sitting up. “I’m fine. I just get stage fright, is all.”

     “Hey, everyone.” Talinia’s gaze was transfixed on the dark woods.

     “Who would have thought—our Rohane. A singer!” There were stars twinkling in Velm’s eyes. “With a strong vibrato, rich baritone, and perfect pitch. Amazing.”

     “Hey, crew.”

     “No, no, no.” Rohane huffed in annoyance. “I’m no singer. And far from perfect pitch. My brother—”

     “Is wrong.” Mipsy stomped her foot to the ground. “He’s wrong, Rohane. He must’ve been jealous or something.”

     “Everyone, I think we have a problem.”

     “Yes, Talinia?” said Rohane, seemingly happy to take the focus off of him.

     Dozens of glowing eyes shined from the woods, reflected by the light of the nearby fire. A low growl permeated the air, making the fur and feathers of the team stand on end.

     Rohane jolted to his feet, drawing his sword from the scabbard while the others readied their weapons.

     Without missing a beat, Velm cast Haunted Citadel, lowering a veil of damage protection around the crew. “Alright, monsters,” he said, beckoning the glowing eyes with a wave of his fingers, “let’s dance.”

To be continued…