Write One Page Per Day – 351/365 – December 17, 2018

A Bard’s Tale (Excerpt) 12/17/18


“How did it go?” his mother’s voice called softly as he walked past the doorway to the common room.

Neil paused and walked into the room. It was small and quaint with sparse furniture. His mother sat in a chair with a blanket covering her lap as she knitted what appeared to be a sweater.

“I’m not sure,” Neil replied as the image of the upset wizard flashed in his mind for the hundredth time since leaving the inn. “Things were a little odd.”

“Sit down and talk to me about it,” she said, setting her needles and yarn in the basket next to her chair.

Neil told her of the events of the evening, including the music he played and the reaction of the wizard as he left. His mother sat through the entire story listening intently to his every word.

“It sounds like you may have tapped into something that our family hasn’t seen in a very long time,” she said. Her eyes were wide with wonder and excitement.

“What do you mean?” Neil asked.

“Your grandfather was more than a simple minstrel, Neil. He was a full fledged bard. He didn’t just collect stories, he also lived them,” she said. “He was the last in our family to tap into the magic that only music can bring into the world. Until tonight, that is.”

“You think I was using magic?” Neil said, “Wouldn’t I know if I was? I mean, all the stories I’ve read about magic involve a lot of practice, which I don’t have.”

“Music is a fickle sort of magic,” she replied leaning forward, “for some it comes when they call, for others it doesn’t. Only truly great musicians ever see or feel it.”

“I don’t understand,” Neil said.

“Do you remember last year when Willow hurt her leg?” she asked.

Neil nodded.

“Do you remember what you did?”

“I calmed her down while I rubbed her side,” he replied.

“You did more than that,” his mother said, “You hummed a tune while you were petting her. I didn’t say anything about it because I wasn’t sure, but your father was sure Willow had broken her leg. When he got back with the village healer, Willow was fine. Her leg had somehow been fixed.

“I had thought that perhaps your father had been mistaken, but now I see that you were the one that healed Willow. You used magic that day as well. Not because you studied it, but because you felt it.”


Did you like this or another piece I’ve done? If so, please share it. Exposure is the best way for a writer to make it.
Facebook | Twitter | Website
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s