Page 2 of The Song of Sunrise
It’s a piece of a Teller cloak… anemptypatch with no embroidery!
“This is for you.” He hands me the patch.
“I don’t understand…” Surely, he cannot mean to give this to me just yet. This would signal that he thinks I’m ready to begin my ascent to the mastery level of Telling.
“It’s your patch, Akemi, for a Teller cloak of your own.” He places the small square of fabric in my hands. “I want you to take it. As a reminder to be bold.” A slow smile spreads as he likely takes in my utterly shocked appearance. “You are destined for greatness.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“I just do.” He winks. “I’ve seen enough sunrises to know the beginnings of a story when I see one. Only you are holding yourself back.”
Marrow’s words strike a chord in the center of my being. How can he believe in me, when I don’t even myself? I tuck the patch into my brown corset belt, its physical presence a token of his confidence.
“You will do great. Remember, I’ll be right here the whole time.” He offers me a comforting smile. “Now, I’m going to start with a song, then introduce you to Tell. After tonight, once you get more comfortable with Telling, we can move into songs for future performances.”
“That’s assuming I make it through tonight still intact,” I grumble, but a part of me is looking forward to singing. There is something so freeing about it.
“You will,” he says knowingly, arching a bushy brow.
“You’re right. I’ll stop being so negative. Tonight, I’m going to wow all of Midland with my incredible Telling abilities. Maybe even replace the resident Master Teller.”
“Ho! Coming for my position now? That escalated quickly.” Marrow chuckles as he places the fiddle under his chin, then closes his eyes, centering himself.
Then, after a few seconds of complete stillness, Marrow begins.
He plays a long, resonant note followed by a pattern of notes. A call and response of sorts. His fingers dance across the fiddle, quickening in pace. Once the song finally settles into a new, faster rhythm, patrons tap their feet and pat their thighs, blissfully unaware of their own visceral reactions to the music. They follow along his melodic journey, entranced, bright tones washing over them.
I’m just as enthralled as the audience.
Just as people begin to clap their hands and stand, Marrow stops as suddenly as he started. Leaving us all hanging in suspense.
A hundred eyes blink with anticipation.
The front tavern doors creak loudly as Nickel slips into the room characteristically at the last minute. He smiles broadly at me.Good luck, he mouths. My cheeks heat.
Nic is a handsome Midlander. He inherited the region’s taller stature, broad shoulders, dark hair, and warm brown eyes. My blush deepens recalling last night’s escapades in his one-room hunting cabin in the outskirts of town. This was our arrangement. To seek physical relief without the pressure of a formal relationship. Some nights are uniquely passionate, but most times, our sex is just to relieve that itch.
Marrow clears his throat.
“Hello to all, and all, hello!” Marrow spares no dramatics. “My name is Marrow, Master Storyteller.” A few gasps of surprise come from the crowd, many of them having never attended a Master Teller’s performance. Especially those who came from distant, rural Midland towns.
As if to emphasize the mystique, the sky breaks open and releases a thunder clap so loud it shakes tableware. Lanterns flicker and pop. A couple people startle in their seats, their yelps earning a mixture of chuckles and hisses from the other listeners.
Marrow continues with a smirk. “Tonight, I will debut a new song.”
Murmurs and whispers erupt as the crowd can no longer contain their excitement. To be in-person at the debut of a song from a Master Teller is like knowing you’re living through history. A distant rumble of thunder shakes the windows. A gust of wind flickers out one of the lanterns next to the stage, lightingMarrow from the side in an unworldly glow. A server rushes to relight it.
The air is alive with tension. And Marrow uses it. He plays slowly and deliberately, pulling each note from his fiddle like he’s weaving a spell. The tempo builds again, but this time, it’s darker.
His words are unfamiliar, the melody strange and haunting, yet it fills the tavern. The audience is bewitched, caught in the swell of emotion in the room. It’s like he’s leading them through a dream, pulling them closer with every note.
When Marrow finishes, the song fades into an eerie quiet. The crowd’s applause is hesitant, unsure whether to clap or hold their breath.
Marrow stands, flourishing his bow up and around his head like a lasso, then wrapping across his stomach as he bends with his signature bow.
The crowd erupts with applause, and the servers make quick work of the break to refill mugs and collect plates.
“I hope you enjoyed the first performance of theSong of Starlight. Curated for this very day in dedication to my Prentice Teller, Akemi Nox.”
