Micky sat comfortably in the warehouse with Mattheo as the afternoon sun warmed the air. The Vaixell was a comforting weight in his hand.

“So show me Micky, what have you been practicing over the last few days?” Mattheo ask as he gently ran the bow across his violin.

“I’ve been working on playing a bit more metal mate, I wanted to get it a little higher, maybe catch up with my shanty skill level.”

“An admirable goal, it would not do for a Bard to be one dimensional. Has your skill improved during this practice?”

Strumming out a slow, haunted rhythm Micky began to sing.

Bury all your secrets in my skin

Come away with innocence, and leave me with my sins

The air around me still feels like a cage

And love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage again

“Good Micky, there is emotion there, and not just that of the songwriter. Your own soul is carried though the notes and into the hearts and minds of those who hear it. Tell me, what do you think about when playing that song?”

“It’s about what I’ve left behind mate. All those things I never got to say, all the people I will never see again. When I arrived here I was scared, and sad.”

“Those are reasonable emotions, everything you know has been torn away from you. Dumped in a place without friends or family.”

“Way to sugarcoat it for me there mate.”

“We are not in the business of hiding uncomfortable truths young Bard. Through your music you share what you feel and allow others to feel it too.”

“I thought this was a class training session, not therapy” Micky retorted, emotion thick in his voice.

“How can it not be both? My heart is in everything thing I play, just as much as yours is.”

“I honestly don’t know how to respond to that Mattheo.”

“Tell me about how you feel now Micky? What does life in Outremer bring to you?”

“Now? I don’t know. I’m angry I guess. At the same time I’m excited about my new life, but that just makes me feel guilty. Like I shouldn’t be enjoying myself here.”

“Then let that rage and shame pass through into the music. Let it find no purchase in your heart, lest it poison you. Keep playing.”

His hands heavy Micky picked up the rhythm again.

So if you love me, let me go.

And run away before I know.

My heart is just too dark to care.

I can't destroy what isn't there.

Deliver me into my fate -

If I'm alone I cannot hate

I don't deserve to have you..

His hands were shaking before the song ended and he felt tears roll down his face. They dropped down to splash against the rough wood planking, forming rivers in the dust that coated it. Mattheo sat in silence until long after the song had ended, unwilling to break the silence that hung heavy in the warehouse. The temperature dropped slowly as they sat in silence.

“Good Micky. Very good. We’ll make a bard of you yet. Keep playing and do not forget these feelings”

Mattheo stood and walked into the evening without another word. Leaving Micky alone in the now cold warehouse.

It was a long, quiet walk back to the boarding house.

The light above the door was a lighthouse beacon and he could hear laughter and the sounds of life from within. Putting on a smile like armor he walked through the door and into Ma Duke’s kitchen.

“Micky, it’s good to see you” exclaimed Opal from her chair at the dinner table. “Since you started working with those salvagers you’ve been so busy.”

“Yeah, it’s been kind of a lot. It’s good though” Micky replied, pulling up a chair of his own next to Ma Duke.

“It’s good to be busy boy” Ma Duke said as she slid a plate over to him. “Just don’t get too busy for dinner you hear me?”

“I could never Ma” he replied with a smile as he took a plate and began to serve himself from the central platters.

“Good boy, you can’t go wrong with home cooking.”

“I’ll agree with you there. I’ve been eating lunch at little places around the compound and so far its 50/50. Either amazing or horrific. Not even a little middle ground.”

Opal chortled at this. “You’re braver than me Micky. My first six months I pretty much lived on bread and fruit. I couldn’t find any proper dragebarn food and the Outremer stuff kinda freaked me out.”

“I know what you mean, like my second day I saw a Daimh woman cooking thins giant ant thing, and I’ve never been so freaked out.”

“Dino’s are delicious boy, nothing better than cooked fresh on the half-shell” interjected Ma Duke, ignoring the shudder of Micky’s shoulders.

“Wait, this isn’t ant now is it?” Asked Micky, looking down at the meat sauce covering his plate with wide eyes.

“And if it is?” Ma Duke replied, her eyes twinkling.

“Don’t tease him Ma.” Opal made shushing motions towards the older woman, “it’s just beef Micky, she tried the same thing on me too.”

“Bah, denying an old woman her fun. You’ll be telling me not to put brandy in my tea next girl.”

“No, but I will be looking for my share in the next pot” Opal laughed.

“Thanks you two, I think I needed this today” said Micky as he cleaned off the last of his plate and stood up from the table.

“If you ever just need someone to talk to I’m here Micky, I know how rough the first few months can be. Just let me know okay?" Asked Opal as she stood to look into his eyes.

“I appreciate that, thanks Opal. I think I’m okay for now. I’m gonna get an early night though, I need the rest before training tomorrow.”

“Okay, keep it in mind though. You can call it the lunch you owe me."

Climbing the stairs towards his room Micky thought over the two very different conversations of the afternoon and evening. The insistent passion of Mattheo and his music was a sharp contrast to the gentle companionship of Opal and Ma Duke. They had come at the same issue from very different directions, but they were equally necessary. It seemed like the adjustment to Outremer was going to be a process. One he had just started.

Climbing into bed he was consumed by thoughts of people he had left behind and people he had found. The same harmony he had played into the warehouse echoed in his head as he faded into sleep.