Iorrjaer

Chapter 14

Their meal complete and chores of clean-up finished, the party decided to sit around the fire and enjoy the evening. Things were quiet at first, thankfully so, with Yophiel already asleep. She was better now that the dream voice had been silenced but her behaviour and attitude still concerned them all. However, this was the night before they entered Ockburg, so they wanted rest and bonding over stressing over Yophiel.

Bethar was the first to break the silence. Using the snapping of the fire, he started to rhythmically snap his fingers in a one-two rhythm. Sparks sprung on every snap, adding a kind of chorus with the fire.

Häsmæl started to hum, a low, guttural hum that resonated deep into the rhythmic snapping of the fire. Malka was the first to get up and return from the wagon with an instrument, a lavish oud. Kârael followed suit and returned with a beautifully carved lute. Graphiel returned with a carved dragon and a thick stubby wooden rod. There were ridges on the dragon's back that looked perfectly separated and raised for raking the rod over. Sorâth returned with an elegant lyre.

"Looks like we all had the same idea." Bethar said. "Anyone know a song?"

To the snaps of fire and Häsmæl's guttural humming that was now more throat singing than humming, Sorâth started to pluck away on his lyre as he tightened and loosened the strings, searching for the right pitch.

To help, Malka sets his oud to their deep pitch and Sorâth is able to tune to that. Kârael joined in next with his lute, adding a haunting strumming that was finalized by Graphiel's tapping and raking.

Barsabel started to hum and sing lightly, catching the tones.

"My ancestors told me;
Someday I will die;
But not before I;
See them before me;

My ancestors told me;
Someday I will die;
But not before I;
Feel them beside me."

The melody of Sorâth's lyre, Kârael's lute and Malka's oud harmonizing with Häsmæl's throat singing, Bethar's snaps and Graphiel's beat gave the night a chill that Barsabel's dirge seemed to oddly warm.

"My ancestors told me;
Someday I will die;
I am not afraid;
They are with me.

Everything I do;
Everywhere I go;
They see me."

The song echoes out into the night and finishes with Sorâth's lyre strumming out the last chords as Häsmæl's throat singing comes to its guttural conclusion.

The group looked around at each other and collectively agreed that that was as surprising as it was spontaneous. None of them had known about the other's instruments nor Barsabel's ability to sing so well. Bethar and Hasmael knew of each other's talents, having practiced before but the whole group hiding musical attributes was a pleasant surprise.

"Well." Bethar said. "That was something else. Where did you learn that song, Bar?"

"The Abbott." She answered. "It came to me during meditation. Well, my ancestors did. They really did tell me not to be afraid of death. That they really were with me."

"That's really sweet." Malka said. "Where did you get your lyre, Sorâth?"

"I made it."

"Really?"

"Really." Kârael answered. "We both made ours while Sorâth was visiting my village. It was a kind of carnival...tournament week? There were a lot of crafts and skill events happening. One of our elders had a table for crafting an instrument. It was Sorâth's idea that we make these."

"So, I'm curious." Barsabel said. "Why did you seek Kârael out?"

"I needed an archer." Sorâth replied. He set his lyre aside and laid it down gently. He sighed when he straightened back up and saw that they were all waiting for further detail. "I wasn't after Kârael specifically when I sought out his village. I wanted to recruit an archer - that was my goal. Finding Kârael was an unexpected, but welcome, bonus."