Amelia

The Twin Mares' Inn was like a second home to me.

Being the daughter of the Countess of Mayfield, I had been sheltered most of my life. My father used to never allow me to leave our manor and go into town, however once he died several years ago, mother allowed me to have freedom for the first time in my life. Mayfield was not a particularly dangerous city at all, however, like all border towns, it was home to a variety of people from all corners of the Empire. The diverse people of Mayfield

My best mate Christie's father owned the Twin Mares' Inn. I had known that black-haired, pixie-like girl since I was a small girl. It was renowned as the best inn in the whole town, and I tried to visit it whenever I had free time. All of the gossip of our small, five-thousand person town was passed around at the Twin Mares' Inn. Travelling musicians and merrymen would also frequent the inn, so there was always some kind of entertainment to be had. It consisted of a fairly large common room with around five tables and a bar. There was a raised ledge in the corner used for performances.

Just yesterday was my twenty-second birth year, and I would be twice-damned if I was going to be found anywhere but at the inn.

That was my thought as I emptied my third cup of wine. My mission was to get myself hammered before my extended family moved in. It would inevitably end with a restriction of my freedom. I was sitting with some of my mates around a table at the center of the inn listening to a bard strum his lute. Across from me, Christie was leaning in a drunken stupor on Jessie, a sandy-haired young man she had been shining on recently. I didn't like Jessie very much, and several times throughout the night I caught him staring at my chest. Men! Hopefully it was just the drink affecting his judgement.

I felt rather tipsy myself, even as I poured myself another drink. Christie's father, Eugene, was a huge, bear-like man who was working at the bar, so Jessie did not dare try anything with Christie. It would not be the first time Eugene had thrown out a boy for being too touchy.

Sitting to my left was Marc, a boastful son of a blacksmith who was determined to prevent anyone from making it into my bed. I had known him for almost as long as I knew Christie, around ten years. So far, his mission had been successful seeing as I still had my chastity and had only kissed one person. His imposing, two meter frame managed to scare off every male who made a pass at me. Sometimes, he really pissed me off.

As if I was his to protect...Though, he had gotten me out of a few bad situations...

I poured myself a fourth drink, noticing that the bottle was nearly empty. The red wine almost matched the colour of my dark red hair. The bard on the platform had begun to strum and sing a song called, "Decius". Everyone started to cheer and sing along to the well known tune, about the spirit of wine, Bacchus. I joined in the motley chorus:

Bacchus, who is a spirit draws,

all sorts of men to own his laws;

Devoted sots he frees from cares,

He gives to them what joys are theirs.

Bacchus, most illustrious,

we thy devotees;

Revel in thy gifts to us,

gifts that always please.

Loudly now we sing thy praise,

see our lungs are bursting;

Bacchus bless us all our days,

until there's no more thirstin'.

Yes, my intention is to die,

in the tavern drinking;

Wine must be at hand for I,

want it when im sinking.

The angels when they come shall cry,

at my frailties winking:

"Spare this drunkard, God, he's high.

His breath is bloody stinking!"

A roar of applause and laughter erupted from all those listening. I was left breathless and laughing after the bawdy tune. If a Gligian Priest were to hear that, it would be immediately declared blasphemy, and rightfully so. Any worship of deities except for their God was considered evil to all members of the Gligian faith. My uncle and his family were all Gligian, which meant that they were also a bunch of mopey pushovers.

I looked back at my friends only to find my eyes drawn to someone walking by the table. An old man with brilliant, white hair was walking towards where that bard was sitting. He turned left my way and I realized that he was not old at all, in fact, he looked younger than me. I noticed that he was also horribly scarred, nearly half of his beautiful face was missing. His grey eye made contact with mine and his gaze seemed to pierce through me. Just as quickly as the moment happened, it passed. The person turned away and walked towards the bard.

I must be completely, bloody wasted...

Nameless

I had found the source of the music.

I had entered a well-lit common room which reeked of alcohol. There was someone playing an instrument in the corner, and I moved to approach him. I tried to survey everyone in the room, but there were around one hundred people all talking and drinking loudly. An attractive face stood out in the crowd and I saw a familiar flash of red. I turned back to the musician and made my way over to him. The musician set down his instrument and took a long sip of his drink. I walked up to him and he seemed startled to see my face. He was an old, grey man in a multicoloured coat.

I motioned with my hands and said to him, "May I...Try?"

He looked at me hesitantly, but then stood up from his stool and chuckled, "You're a @%$#@@ one aren't you. Don't break it."

I sat down and picked up the instrument and held it in a way that felt natural. Most of the people had gone quiet. I reached down and plucked one of the strings and it rang out with an ugly sound. Several people in the common room started to laugh. I strummed the instrument testing all of the many strings. It had a deep wooden bowl and the noise of the strings resounded across it. Why was I attracted to this instrument?

My head exploded with images again.

An amphitheatre with an audience of thousands. An unknown woman was playing the same instrument as the one in the common room. She was wearing a long, silken dress which flowed across her curves like quicksilver. She herself was a world-class beauty. She had a round, pretty face with golden locks cascading down her back. The song she was playing was beyond complex. Her delicate fingers were dancing across the strings in a blur. It was a sad, despondent melody with elegant lifts and dramatic pauses. The crowd was dead silent as the woman spun magic through her instrument.

Suddenly, a voice boomed, "Before I was anything...I was an artist...A saint of song...They say I invented music..."

I finally remembered something.

My consciousness returned to the present. It seemed as if only moments had passed. I set my fingers on the lute in a familiar position and looked back at the grey old man with a smile. I now had the attention of the entire room. The whole room seemed to collectively suck in a breath, waiting in suspense for me to begin.

I began to play, the same song of the woman from my memory.

Amelia

Things had taken an interesting turn.

The white haired boy was now on stage cradling the old bard's lute while staring off in a daze.

Marc leaned over to me and said, "Look at that freak sitting there on the stage. Ha! He only has half of his face."

Quite the observation...Idiot.

Marc continued to ramble drunkenly as I rolled my eyes. He always became crass when we went drinking, however most of the time, I thought it was funny how loud and obnoxious he was. For the past few years, Christie, Marc, and I went drinking on Endays. We usually started right when the sun went down and today was no exception.

The boy on the stage started moving again. The boy looked calmly centered as he set his hands on the lute as if to play. His fingers slowly began to move across the strings, first striking a minor chord, and then breaking the initial melody by playing a series of individual notes. The soothing, sad melody quickly got the attention of everyone in the common room. A hush fell over everyone listening as they strained to hear the quiet melody. The boy's fingers began to move faster on the strings as the melody gained momentum and tempo. Suddenly, the boy separated the tune into two intertwining melodies. The harmony of the two melodies blending into one rang out beautifully across the Twin Mares' Inn. It was music no one had ever heard before, unique in its elegance.

The people in the common room were all in a stunned silence, straining to hear every inflection of the melody. The boy's face was a mask of concentration, however, he seemed at ease. The tempo steadily increased as his fingers flew across the strings. Suddenly the boy stopped playing the soothing piece and someone coughed loudly. The boy opened his mouth and began to sing in a deep tenor as his fingers attacked the strings with a renewed vigor. He was singing in a language I did not understand, however, it flowed together with the lute to create a harmony the likes of which no one in the entire world had ever heard.

Soon, the melody went from sad and soothing to heartbreaking and beautiful, every intonation of his voice blended seamlessly with his music. Pressure was slowly building in the common room which now seemed too small for the music being conducted in it. The melody rang out with a loud crescendo and then quickly drew to a close.

After a very long silence, the boy looked up at the crowd and I noticed that there was a tear glistening on his cheek. I heard a muffled sob and looked behind me. All around the room, people were quietly crying, Christie and her man both had tears streaming down their face. I felt my face and felt wetness on my cheeks.

There was no applause to the performance, only tears...

The boy stood up quickly and gave the lute back to the old man before heading for the exit. Most people did not even notice the movement. The boy swiftly exited the building in a flash of white.

Someone said out loud in the silence, "Who the fuck was that?!"

I stood up and grabbed my cloak before stumbling after the boy. Marc called after me, but I payed it no mind as I exited the Twin Mares' Inn onto one of the main streets of Mayfield. Even at this time at night, there were people conducting business out and about. I saw the white haired youth enter an alleyway across the street and I moved to follow.

When I entered the alley way, the person was waiting for me, his one eye boring into me. We just stood there uncomfortably for one second, looking at each other in the torchlight.

"W-Who are you?" I asked the boy. The term boy was not really accurate seeing now that he was closer to my age than I previously thought.

The stranger paused for a few seconds before responding, "I..Have no...Name..."

Does this person think I'm an idiot?

Nameless

The girl from the inn was standing in the alleyway.

I simply did not have the answer to her question. I had no clue what my name was, and the girl in front of me obviously did not believe me. Her cheeks were all red from drinking and she was glaring at me annoyed. Her eyebrows drew together and she put her hands on her hips. She was really cute when she was angry.

I couldn't help but smile.

"What? You think this is %$#@%? Why is every*hic* boy I meet such a %[email protected]#@%$#@?" The girl questioned with a slight slur in her words.

I responded, "I am sorry...I have no...Memory..I can..Hardly...Speak...Language"

The pretty girl looked shocked. She probably thought I was mentally unstable, and she would probably be correct. I decided to steer the conversation away from my shortcomings.

"What is your...Name?", I asked almost smoothly. My language was improving as I analyzed each conversation I had with people.

"Amelia. My name is Amelia Conrad..." She replied.

She seemed like she was waiting for a reaction of some kind. I had no guesses as to why. Perhaps she was someone well-known.

"Where...Do you...Live?" I inquired.

She started laughing.

"Are you some type of %[email protected]#@$# or something?" She asked through her laughter.

I apparently made an error in asking her where she lived. She then looked concerned.

"You have a place to stay...Right?" She said slowly.

I had no place to stay and no idea where to go. I was lost. There was nowhere for me...

"Yes," I replied with a smile.

She was scrutinizing me, as if she could see through my facade.

"Alright, well are you going to play at the inn often. I would love to hear you play again..." She told me.

I shook my head and then said, "I don't know...I must go now..."

"Oh...Okay well we'll catch up some other time then," She said while looking down.

She stumbled as she turned to go back to the inn. I watched her as she walked back.

She was quite charming.

I turned back and walked behind a crate in the alleyway. I felt bad for lying, but I know it would only bring trouble if I told the truth. I sat down and soon drifted to sleep.

I dreamt of music.

Several kilometers away in a Gligian church, a priest recieved word from one of his messengers...