Striking a Cord

[Anamnesis]

being made of additional resonant frequencies to the main note.

a feeling or emotion

A scream echoes through halls of the Leringard Arms, before Cord wakes up in a cold sweat, clutching at phantom wounds, and buries her head into her knees, as she tries her best to muffle her crying and hoping that no one has heard her.

She sings to chase away the shadows, keeping her voice low so she doesn't disturb others who may be trying to sleep, looking over at the still empty bed of a lady named Clover after her pounding heart settles back to a normal rhythmic thundering only heard in her ears.

She isn't at all sure the lady exists or more that she is a story Master Steel has told her so she only uses half the room, of course half is all she pays for in what rice she can find, and the milk she can coax out of almost dried up cows to provide cream for milk and butter to the inn. Still this side of the room is sort of hers and that provides some comfort.

She is trying her best to find her voice but just as things seem to be peaceful, the shadows chase away the light and remind her of her place and her voice grows quiet again. She hasn't even seen her Xeenite friend at the inn in a long while. She remembers though how he sang for her and that brings a measure of comfort to her and a gentle genuine smile touches her lips as she thinks of how they fell asleep talking for hours at the Silver Buckle.

He found pleasure in simple conversation, in the fact that she was comforted by his presence. He never pressured her into anything more like the others thought he may. Simple, truthful conversation they were both content with. He had become a prince in her mind. Sadly misunderstood by most, but she could open up to him about most things and he listened without judgment. Though when it came to that... she could not even tell him that.. How would he react? What would he begin to think? No she can't tell him yet about what happened. She can't even bring herself to admit it happened. Best to just ignore it and pretend it never happened.

Then there was her, dressed in red, hood drawn, and voice soft until raised at her, as they sat by the fire of the Storm Crest Crossroads, daring her to find herself, or fall back into the darkness again and slavery. How could she truly understand how Cord felt? Cord knows better than to trust the dark masters, they are cold and painful suffering, yet...No they are not to be trusted. If she lets her guard down for one moment, the mistress of death will find her...again.

Even since finding the light, they have drawn her back into the shadows again, threatening to take away the only thing that brings her any comfort. She has tried to avoid them, to find others in the light to be near, to make friends within and with the light again, and to stay out of the shadows as much as she can.

She has met friends, Leo, Robin, Jumbala and Leo was so kind to her, and in return she gave him all the apples she could to fill his belly. Then Robin asked her how she felt about him. She couldn't lie, not to Robin, she had been so kind. She did like Leo, but she wanted to just know them as friends. Something she had not dared to risk in a long time, you don't meet friends in the darkness, only pain, death and sorrow. That is all the darkness knows.  

Then there is Master Andrew offering to teach her how to play the smaller version of double harp. Teaching her how to pull the strings just so and how to end and begin, but their names don't quite make as much sense as their tones do to her ears. Diatonic and Chromatic? G's and C's, Sharp F's, A A Sharps, B's, C's, E's? To her they are all tones she knows by ear, she's never seen a scrap of music before much less how to read it or what the notes are by name, only that she can hear them inside, and listening to others sing, she can pick up the melodies and understand where her own chords would fit within their own.

Can't that be enough? But she is curious, drawn into the light more and more by the chance to learn, and then there is Miss Jilsephonie, allowing her a moment to make a fresh meal for her at her beautiful house, and offering to teach her how to read and write. She knows that learning will not be easy but she knows she can.

And then for that one brief moment in Center, she allowed herself to play a whimsical melody for a genuine audience! And they so enjoyed it that one, Mister Wolfshead even gifted her with a platinum harp, and then she knew she had to renew her studies to learn, so much to learn and yet she did not know where to begin, and as the tears fell from her cheeks, and her crying stopped, she found herself running her fingers from the lower strings of the harp across the top in a beautiful sound that startled her and brought her out of her thoughts, appraising the instrument, letting her fingers strum across the strings in memory of Andrew's first lesson.

Always her hand carved piccolo had been her voice, a plan piece of wood carved with her own hands, while staying as a guest at the Silver Buckle, but he convinced her to buy the most beautiful instrument she had ever seen. A simple elegant piccolo of reddish wood, smooth as glass, polished to such a shine it, so shiny, it was like looking into a crimson mirror. He said it was made by a bardess whose name is Layl, and she couldn't help but love it, but still she held to her own hand made piccolo, and kept the new piccolo and harp carefully and protectively tucked away afraid that they would be lost if the darkness found her again.

Her soft humming filled her room and comforted her, and then another thought struck her, a bard who couldn't sing simple beautiful music, to convey what his heart felt inside, a bard who she felt sorry for, even more than herself and she couldn't feel as bad for herself in that moment. She knew if it were her, she would be devastated not to be able to sing anything more than rage, to scare people, instead of providing them comfort within, though he still had his voice and could share stories, and his powerful voice had even scared her, after a few tries. .

It made her realize by listening to his story, how much she cherished what her mother had taught her, and even though her story was sad, she knew the kind of song she wished to convey with the gift she had been given, he had helped show her that, his name is Flynn introduced to her by the dark mistress cloaked in the colors of Ilsare..

Then there is Master Karn, He fell into the character so quickly and brought her and Master Aden into the rolls, so easily once they stood upon his hidden stage in Haven. He had his own stage meant for people to enjoy yet so far it sat collecting dust. Of all the lessons she had learned since being freed of the darkness creativity was meant to be shared, not hidden. Dreams were meant to be shared with friends, and those you love should want to know what wishes their beloved has. She couldn't believe the elf in green had not told his beloved, though he had not told Cord either, maybe he was afraid of telling her, maybe he feared she wasn't his true love. Whatever reason he would not share with her, he barely knew Cord.

Cord's travels, her freedom had taken her so many new places, meeting new faces, exciting and terrifying, dark and bright and it seemed as though her adventures to her had just barely begun.

[Anamnesis]

to bring into existence

It warmed her heart to listen to him talk about his goddess, she could hear in the way he conveyed to her how much Ilsare meant to him, and how she worked in his own heart trying to bring others to understand his goddess.

The heart of creation...  
weather it be a plate of food, a fine gem or a song...
Ilsare cares not about the object created ...
it is the passion of the creating...

Ilsare also asks that we seek beauty..
it can be an easy beauty of a beautiful girl...
or it can be the inner beauty of Dwarf who gives up life for a brother
it can be the disturbing beauty of a Deep Moth Wing...
or the melody of a tastless pub song
or the simple beauty of truth
She challenges us to see beauty where it is hardest to find....
hidden and deep

Our holy mission is to inspire others...    
inspire them to create, to write, to sing, to create with heart.
it is not enough that we who follow Ilsare create with our hearts....
we must inspire each other, and inspire others...


It made her wonder if in some way Ilsare was not working in her too and when he asked her to tell him about the story she had herself created her own answer made her further wonder if the inspiration of Ilsares grace was not in some way warming its way into the elf's heart despite her efforts to keep all the gods at a distance and finding any sort of faith with them.

"how did you feel when you made the story?" He asked searching from her an honest answer. Simply wanting to understand how she had felt and while the answer was simple there was a great amount of complexity in the feeling of that moment creation formed in the depths of her, and bubbled forth from her own lips, but how to convey that emotion to the Ilsarian that awaited her answer.

Her answer started simply.

I felt inspired
It flowed out of me like it was meant to.
A story that had to be told.

But the more she thought about it, in that moment of what he called Reflection, she went on.

"tell me how you felt when you wrote the story...  
tell me in a way I feel it too" He encouraged almost in a way that honestly wished to know how she felt and such genuine interest she continued softly.

I felt within like a weight was pressing down on me, because I felt the emotions of heartache, of confusion, of sadness and honesty. I felt as though a young maiden had been touched by a prince's heart, saved from the depths of despair by a compassionate soul. Who reached out and took her hand in friendship in the moment she needed it most.

It is as if the well found the water it was looking for so it could serve the thirsty and revitalize them.

He nodded understanding.

[Anamnesis]

the absense of light
 
conscious and deliberate wrong doing with the intention of harming another. causing pain or suffering.

Even in the light the darkness and evil seemed to hold a firm grip around the young elfs heart. Fear of the dark masters taking away all the good she had come to know, kept her watching her back. Even now as she dreamed, it reminded her that the darkness was there keeping a watch over her ready to embrace her once again.
 
Her dream of the dark mistress leading her deeper into the darkness, filled her thoughts. The sound of an evil laughter sending goosebumps speckling across her skin, and the feeling of being totally abandoned unable to sing caused her to pull in on herself, trembling in her sleep. She could see the eyes all around her, she could feel the illithids creeping deeper into her mind, and feel the thunderous footsteps of the earth moving around her.
 
Finally she woke from the nightmare, with the gentle breeze of the night blowing across her flesh from the opened window of her room, and rocked herself as she tried to humm softly, the tears falling from her cheeks. The nightmare fresh in her mind, the nightmare that was not a nightmare but a memory fresh in mind of her last encounter with the dark mistress. The feeling caught in her throat that kept her from singing at that moment to comfort herself, that the darkness may never go away.
 
At least this time she didn't seem to wake anyone else as the house remained eerily quiet, or perhaps it was that no one was home to hear if she had.
 
She moved from her bed and moved to the wash basin not far away splashing water over her face and trying once more to find her voice again, to make sure she could still sing. Ah! There it is, the sound of the C filling her ears, a slight tremble in the tone brought on the emotion she felt but it was there and that brought an enormous amount of relief to the young elf.  
 
Finally she moved to her desk to look over the letter that she had received turning it over again and looking at it, curiously. She still didn't know what it said and had not had time to have it translated. It didn't smell like Deverain's but somehow it smelled familar.
 
And scattered across the desk were the forms she was called to study, going over each in her mind, and then a question she still had to ask Master SehKy.
 
 First Form - Aul'El - unknowing mystery - the mystry for which the answer can not be comprehended
    a scene that displays the first letter as petals falling from a flower, and many other scattered across the ground as if the season is changing or the flower is wilted, she then draws the sun brightly above the flower, before she begins to draw many more flowers like the first clearly looking sad or wilted, beneath the soil drawn in are what look to be a bug of some sort, an infestation of them, clearly the picture meant to reflect the current famine as the artist sees it.  
 
- Second Form - Asur - rebirth of life and nobility ... lordship caring for the wellfare of many
   
      depicting the form between the bodies of two fighting wolves, trying to convey their struggle, allowing the second form to dominate more prominently in the picture and the wolves themselves to be part of the background, in the front, turned to face the fighting wolves, are two pups huddled together. The way they are huddled the form again makes its presence more prominent.
 
- Third Form - Ar'hain/Ar'Hain? - is of secrets and shadows, the assassins form - shelter...  agility...  and quick painless death, also the form of the hunter or the defender.
 
- Forth Form - Auyl'Isha?
 
Two sheets of parchment lay unmarked on her table and she looks over her studies, her very first attempt to replicate her teachers work, serving as a reminder to her of his disappointment. It was a perfectly recreated work, but it was not what he wanted. He wanted to have his forms understood and see them through her eyes. He wanted to understand her. He wanted her to show her emotions through her artwork.
 
She closed her eyes again as she looked over the table, and hummed again. What did he want from her truly?
 
She was grateful for Her Hero in her Life, always caring for her, watching over her, keeping her safe. She missed him and had not seen him for awhile. Maybe if she let her mind wonder away from the task of study for now, she could find him and he could settle her mind. He always had a way of centering her, of making her feel safe, and happy, and bringing out her voice. She hoped he was being careful because she could not imagine her world without him as part of it.

[Anamnesis]

a b c... easy as... 1 2 3

 
 
 

The common language seemed harder on her ears, much more abrasive and not nearly as lovely as the elven she was learning from SehKy, but she was picking up on it much more quickly than she had been the elven. Images of things were pinned to bookshelves, water kegs, the pantry, cupboards, her bed, the desk, the armoire, which still looked funny, the carpet, and paintings, her basin. Naming them each in common, as well as elven. She supposed that Jilsephonie and Sehky had been sometimes working together to help her learn.

 
 
 

Knowing already what things were made learning easier and when she would stop in front of a piece of parchment she would sound out the word phonetically, and commit it to memory making up a little song about it to make it easier for her to remember, and for her lessons from Jil, she would practice writing new words after sounding them out, and drawing an image of them as well as writing the word again.

 
 
 

Sometimes the lessons started to begin to blend into each other, she had been sitting at her desk what seemed like months, hoping for a knock on the door that would be Deverain coming to see her, but he had been gone for awhile and she was growing to miss him terribly.

 
 
 

She wanted to tell him how she had picked apples for him, and saved them but she didn't want to tell him how they had gone bad and she had to throw them away. She wanted to tell him how she could sound out his name now, and write it, but he was not there to listen. She wanted to sing him silly songs and to inspire him but she had not heard from him. So she started to bury herself into her study of language and music and art. She loved to draw and had a real talent for it, that surprised her. Sometimes she would draw for no reason, and sometimes as part of her lessons with Andrew, and sometimes with Sehky encouraging her to open up her mind to learn the artistry of the elven forms, so she could interpret them in her own way.

 
 
 

Her harp, her piccolo lay on her bed as she fumbled over her lessons, and she frowned at the parchment that lay scattered on the floor of her room, finally sitting her quill down and moving away from her desk. She was tired and she needed something else to do, and that is when she remembered that Miss Jil had been saving some hickory for her to practice with...

[Anamnesis]

Drip Drip Drip

[/I]

The storm raged outside the window, she could feel it, literally from the constant dripping on her head. She had given up on the bowl to catch the water, and it didn't matter where she tried to move the bed, another drip would spring up in defiance. She needed to get her roof fixed. Her roof. Well almost, she had to repay the loan, which she was working hard to repay, but she could move shelves around, set up a small table with a few chairs, and build shelves into the wall to catch the things she collected so she didn't have to carry them around with her all the time.

It didn't matter the wind wipped through the house or the roof leaked in places, it was hers to do with as she pleased. She had never had that and she couldn't get that thought out of her head. Jetta had helped her place the one thing she couldn't so the trip would be quicker back to Center. So the portal was there and she could come and go as she pleased. She could play her music and practice without bothering anyone as her closest neighbors were either the undead of the Broken Halls or far enough away in the grove it didn't matter. They would not hear her unless they came to visit.

She had heard one of her former neighbors, was a bard by the name of Acacea and that brought a smile to her face. Maybe there was a reason that this house at this time, seemed perfectly suited to her, despite the constant dripping and the shivering from the cold. Compared to what she had been through, this was an absolute dream.

A fixer upper, it had things to fix as much as she did, and she knew she didn't have to do it alone. So far she had given a copy of her key to two people. Vulcan, who she felt connected to by their own pasts, and Deverain who she loved and had been so happy to see again. He had offered without her even asking or expecting to patch the holes on the roof. He even cut more fire wood for her to keep the cabin warm for her despite the rain. It was just another way she knew, that he was trying to protect her. So she could tolerate the dripping while she rested, knowing that he was there for her, and she could help someone else find shelter too.

Now her thoughts, turned though to the Broken Halls so close by, the ones Sehky had warned her to be careful of, explaining how they were cursed because of the actions of one of their own. how a elf....one of their own had given a woman as a slave to a dark elf in exchange for the help of two dragons and then how when the General lost the war, he betrayed the dark elf only to be cursed to walk the Halls for all of eternity.

Maybe this is why she was here at this place at this precise time...to find a way to break the curse. Only time will tell, but it felt personal to her and she couldn't ignore that feeling.

[Anamnesis]

She was furious and she had every right to be. She could understand the pain the girl was going through, how her own father had packed her up and sent her off, but that wasn't what really bothered her. What really bothered her is that he would raise his hands and hurt his child. He was supposed to be her sanctuary, her light in the darkness, her inspiration and he failed her miserably, over come by ale and grief.

Yes Cord was mad and she took it personally. She had taken the knife from the girl, but the girl needed a way to let out her anger. She just needed a way to do it without hurting those trying to help her, and without hurting herself.

That kind of pain was suffocating and she lashed out at people, she lied, she hated and she was hurting. So she went back to Hlint to see Ellie, and asked Captain Alicia if it was alright that she see her and try to talk to her, she had to make sure Ellie was alright.

Cord's mother had never raised a hand to her as long as she could remember. Cord could also not remember her ever mentioning her father. Where was he? Who was he? Was he still alive?

She shook off the questions as she waited for the Captain humming to herself in an effort to calm her own emotions. Ellie needed a friend more than anything right now. Someone who wasn't going to leave her or hurt her. Someone she could trust.

[Anamnesis]

I have this song stuck and it won't come out

It had been a long time since Cord had been in the mood to sing, but she had made her way to Center, and in doing so met up with new people she had never had the chance to travel with before, making new friends along the way. And while she could not completely understand it, she had become more comfortable with her own voice, her own songs, and let herself be inspired by the moments, the situations and the people around her. It had in truth surprised her, how out of the blue she just sang what was on her mind.

She wasn't nearly as afraid as she was before, and her audience truly did enjoy her voice, and that approval to her, the receptiveness translated into a greater confidence in her songs. It made her happy, made her beam and made her want to return to her mentors, Sehky and Andrew, who she had been avoiding for awhile because she had been blocked and unable to move past the last lesson that Sehky had given her. Still the block was there, and she needed the patience of both, to push past it.

That is where she on her way to now, to see them, whoever she came across first, and hope they were still willing, and understanding of how she had been feeling and could offer their wisdom to help her.