Oscar lived in Kandrakar, he was a commoner with absolutely no value, earning money for the sole purpose of surviving, but he had one thing in his life he enjoyed, and it was the way he earned his living.
He would go every early morning and late evening to create melodic tunes with his old guitar for everyone to hear, he lived alone, but people appreciated his talent, his gift which he shared with them every day. They would give him a penny or two; sometimes they would sit and listen until they would have to go back to their own shores. He lived in the lower town, his house modest with two small rooms which provided food, bath and rest. For such poor life, he still enjoyed it, with his few earnings he could bathe and satisfy his humble apetite, he could go to wander in the forests and appreciate all kinds of nature's most precious gifts. He didn't have money, but he had clarity, clarity which gave him what he was sure money cannot, peace with himself.
Oscar believed in his own values, what he himself saw as right. He didn't want to follow anyone else's values, he didn't want to lie to himself, and he chose not to. He would look to other commoners, each of them working to the bone and down to their knees praying for a better next life, but he didn't believe in one, he thought of himself alike any living thing, he knew that when he'd die, his flesh would rot, his bones would decay into dust, and he accepted it. He wasn't going to compromise himself in hopes of a next life, but he would live his only one by what his heart truly believes. He didn't do what he thought was right for the path to heaven, or to escape hell, he didn't believe in such things, he simply did what his heart, his mind and his instincts told him to do.
People would condemn him for his beliefs, see him as a follower of what is dark and wrong, some would hide their children from his sight because he was an emblem of their most inner fears.
It was late in the evening, darkness swollowed the skies and stars shone their brilliance with all their splendour, families and people walked up and down the streets, all familiar faces, most of them friendly, those young would always enthusiastically ask their parents to go "sit with the silver haired man", he chuckled at their playfullness, remembered his own beautiful childhood. The night, however, grew on and he found himself alone, he embraced the loneliness of the night and played his heart out, just because it was beautiful, the melody, the people moving, the fresh cool breezes in the air, the atmosphere was beautifully intoxicating.
His eyes opened, growing fractionally wide and settling down again when he felt a couple of coins dropping onto the small folded cloth he had besides him, Oscar couldn't recognize the presence in-front of him, the figure, a man, was hooded with a blue cloak which covered his body, Oscar, where he was sitting could make out the young man standing before him, he had light golden hair, a pale face the colour of porcelain, the skin looked so incredibly fresh, but the features of the man were hindered by the shadows and his cloak. Oscar didn't appreciate that one gesture of the night. He continued to play out his melody, pleasing the listener in return for whatever coins said listener tossed, while the sounds vibrated swiftly through the air, Oscar sometimes looked up again, catching the sight of the vibrating blue intent eyes of the young man, he never saw him before, not in the lower town, maybe not in Kandrakar.
After a couple of minutes, the cloaked man's lips formed a small smile, barely visible to anyone, and moved onwards up the road. Oscar's eyes trailed the man, watched him as he slowly mixed in with the other figures, and dissapeared. The music stopped when Oscar glanced at the coins, they were gold, he was paralyzed with shock, could barely move a muscle, most people in the town could barely afford silver, figure out about gold. He was confused, and dazed, he looked at the cloth and stared, smiled, collected his few possessions, and headed home.
He hoped he could receive the same visitor the next night, not for the money, but for the company, something about the cloaked male's silence, he never felt more appreciated, he missed the feeling he had when he played to a face he was not aware of, to novely. Oscar was simple, but he was a free spirit, he didn't bind himself with the crowd, music was the only routine he felt he could bear, for it helped him travel with his mind where his body couldn't.
But the man didn't show, neither the night afterwards; He felt a little sad, and curious, but accepted the fact that the man was a one time passeesnger and continued on always playing out melodies, alluring people to listen and remembering his encounter, with the golden cloaked fellow.
It was on a Sathurday, he decided to stay later than usual for a small gathering of people and children stood around him, listening to his melody, some conversing silently with each other, and sometimes one would throw a coin or two. But when he looked at the crowd, allowing himself one glance at the people, he spotted the cloaked man once again; he stared momentarilly and altered his gaze again, smiling as he continued playing.
When he finally stopped, shoulders a little sore and tired of the constant tension, everyone but the hooded man left and as he approached, Oscar grabbed a small white cloth he had been keeping on him, unwrapped it on his palm and offered it to the stranger.
"Yours" Oscar said, he smiled solemnly.
The white clothe had the money in it, for he could not accept such money for so little, he wondered if it was the man's mistake, if the man came to take it back.
At first the man's eyes were surprised, he couldn't believe the silver youth held the money, a commoner, desperate for a living, rejecting money. But then he simply smiled and tossed another coin, nodded, and moved on.
Oscar, dumbfounded at the man's actions continued to play for a little while, and head back home.
The visits came more frequent, and each time none of the men would talk, they would smile, one would listen and one would play, then one would move on and one stay. Each time the stranger dropped a coin. The people would notice, some would stare, others glare, curiosity poorly hidden.
~x~
The stranger was solemn and confused as to why the young commoner stopped playing, he felt... almost betrayed, he smiled at the irony. It was only six days after, in the morning when he learned that the silver haired man, named Oscar, from what he had gathered from other commoners, was playing again.
When the stranger was about to toss a coin again, a hand gently stopped him.
The man, whilst startled, did not withdraw his hand.
"Please, don't"
"Why would a commoner deny my money?"
"It is not for money that I play"
"Is that why you have been missing?" The man pressed.
"I did not want you to think im doing this for more money from you" Oscared explained.
The stranger smiled.
"Strange, I saw the picture from a completely different light, I thought you stopped playing now that you had enough gold"
"I am indeed starting to find more money unnecesary, but music is my passion"
"I understand, I too have a passion"
"What is it?"
"Listening to music"
