It's been years since the trial. Years since I took the stand against him. Life should be normal. It isn't.

Silence in the Broken Keel Tavern as I stepped onto the rickety stage. Moonlight and whale oil lanterns lit the place, flickering with the salty breeze. Everyone had frozen, watching me. Where was the band? A simple tavern wench shouldn't be up there. That was true. Even now I have to admit that I shouldn't have stepped onto the stage. Pirates and simple sailors were all judging me. About to demand for me to get down from that stage. How they were going to say it I'll never know. I lifted my viola and put my bow to the strings. Before they could complain I played. Years have passed since that day, too many for me to recall exactly what I played. It was a song of the sea at least. A song I'd heard every day while in the bowels of a slave ship. One that echoed around the room. The song I'd heard the night the ship sank, wind and thunder. Finally the song I'd heard upon waking on the beach near this port town. I played the sounds I knew, and when I stopped they cheered. That night I became a bard. A storyteller through song. That night my life truly began. (This is a work in progress.)