Seven Souls |Updates Fridays|

6 Nyka Larkin

_Nyka Larkin_

Nyka sat up fast in his bed, the book on his face flying to the floor. He'd gone and done it again, hadn't he? It was not a rare thing for the boy to fall asleep with a book. He just couldn't keep himself interested enough to stay awake sometimes. He wondered if his grandmother knew. She would not be pleased with him. He should have had this book completely read two days ago and here he was still falling asleep.

From the sounds of it downstairs, his grandmother was home now, possibly having returned from the market. She usually checked on him every time she got home so it was likely she knew he slept through his reading time again. It would be no surprise. Nyka was fully prepared for a bit of a scolding.

He hopped out of bed as soon as he heard a familiar voice from downstairs. It was singing, followed by the strum of a stringed instrument. Nyka smiled at the sound of the voice and hopped out of bed, racing down the stairs and stumbling on his way.

He faced the direction of the music and smiled all the more at the sight of his tanned friend, strumming a lute and humming a tune. Nyka quickly bounded over to the man and greeted him. "Byrne!" He called enthusiastically to the man.

Byrne's face brightened Andre stopped humming, coming to slap Nyka on the back. "Nyka," he greeted in return, a fond look crossing his face. The bard pushed his wavy chin length hair away from his brown eyes, moving to set his lute down.

"Wait wait, can you play me that song I like?" Nyka asked him in an excited manor.

Byrne smiled and shook his head. "You always ask for that song," he said with a chuckle. "How about you play it? I taught you it, didn't I? Besides, I have not even gotten the chance to warm up completely,"

Nyka scrunched his nose. "I always mess up though, and I have not warmed up at all,"

Byrne laughed again and thrusted his lute in Nyka's direction. "Go on, you know the chords. Don't be afraid to mess up, even I do."

Nyka swallowed, unsure if he wanted to do this. A quick glance around the tavern part of the inn proved that there was just a handful of people here at the moment. No doubt many more would fill in around dinner time. "I don't know..." he said slowly.

Byrne shook his head, the wavy brown mass of hair finding its way back into his eyes. No doubt the women around here found him as a foreign charm, what with the accent and all.  "Try," he pressed, his R rolling with the word. "Is that old man going to laugh at you if you stumble?" He asked, gesturing to an older gentleman who was drinking away at the bar. "Who cares what he thinks," Byrne leaned in and whispered now, "He's a drunk anyway."

"Fine, I will try, I suppose..." Nyka said without much confidence behind his words. He placed his hands where Byrne had thought him and took a breath, trying to remember the song.

He strummed some random chords, testing the waters before he got serious, playing out the first bits of the song. He was a bit hesitant to sing, not being the best singer himself and surly paling in comparison to Byrne's talent. He cleared his throat quietly before he started in a delicate voice.

"Gunter was a poor young man,

Who's grin was bright as coal,

He was born to a prideful clan,

But he had naught to eat, not even a bowl,

Guuunter, a poor wretched soul

Guuunter, a man without a goal

Then one-..."

Nyka has forgotten the next word and looked at Byrne for help. The man was grinning now, nodding at Nyka to continue. "Sorry evening" he whispered.