043.008

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Return to Lyria

Feast II

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Stairway to Heaven was probably the best song to play for people on Nod. Not lyrically, Alyssa didn’t care much for the lyrics—she really didn’t actually like the song that much, though whether that was because it was overrated or her father just overplayed it in her youth wasn’t an argument that she wanted to get into. But musically, instrumentally, it was quite amazing.

The song started out with just the recorder and the guitar. Or lute, in this case. The opening rift was simple enough that even Alyssa, who had touched a guitar for maybe three hours in total over the course of her life, thought she might be able to play it. Very catchy, yet it really sounded just like something she might hear in a tavern. Almost too much so, as it earned a quip from the Third Prince. “Guess they aren’t something new after all.”

“Quiet,” Alyssa snapped, just as the song entered into its second part.

The bass player started up, filling a bit of empty air as Chris handed his lute to the arcanist, who set down the recorder to start playing it. Chris picked up his acoustic guitar and used that to fill in for what should have been an electric guitar. It didn’t sound quite right. But that was to be expected. More than anything, Alyssa was just amazed that Chris had managed to reproduce the song for completely different instruments by memory. His phone didn’t have access to the internet like Alyssa’s did. He couldn’t listen to it over and over while composing for the other instruments in his band.

He had mentioned being in a band, but all the way back in high school. He must have memorized the song all the way back then well enough to reproduce now. Did he even play the drums? As the drummer joined in for the third and final portion of the song, Alyssa had to suspect that he did. Poor Chris. He had clearly missed his calling as some kind of musician.

Or perhaps he was fulfilling that calling now.

Looking around the room, most everyone was giving him their full attention at the moment. They definitely hadn’t been doing that back when the Third Prince commented on the music. Was it the drums? Drums weren’t a new and unknown thing in Nod. Though being played like a modern drums was probably something a little shocking to see. But no… thinking back a bit, they had been paying attention around when the second portion picked up.

When the song came to an end with just Chris singing out the final line a cappella, the gathered nobles and royals all did that weird little snapping applause again. It was more enthusiastic this time, which Alyssa could appreciate, but she found herself frowning when, after a few moments of bowing, Chris and his band started packing up to leave.

Alyssa waved over a servant, who promptly refilled her mulled wine. That wasn’t what she had called him over for, however. “Go grab the lead singer and bring him up to me.”

Without even glancing toward the Third Prince, the Pharaoh, or anyone else to see if her request was fine, the servant ran off to do as she had asked. Which Alyssa was quite pleased with. She would have been a little annoyed if he had stopped to ask permission.

Chris stood before her, on the opposite side of the table, after only a few moments. Just looking at him, it was clear that he was nervous. His eyes were down, staring at the plates—breads?—of food. She wondered if his nerves stemmed from having just played in front of a crowd or whether it was the powerful people in the crowd that had him on edge. When she had first picked him up off Earth, he had been spouting some nonsense about conspiracy theories. It wouldn’t surprise her to find out that some distrust of authority figures applied to this world as well.

“That was amazing,” Alyssa said as she stood up, deciding that pure praise might work the best. “Did you put that together on memory alone? Or did you sneak in some music sheets when you came here?”

That got him to blink, look up to her, and blink again. He opened his mouth, but didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to look her up and down once more. “Alyssa? I… didn’t recognize you.”

“You’re one to talk. Have you visited a barber even once since your arrival?”

A hand moved to his long hair. It was clean… which made her wonder if it was normally that way or if the servants had washed him up too. “It is a bit long, isn’t it?”

“Still, I’m impressed. I’ve been out of the city for a few months and I guess I’m just a tad out of touch. I didn’t even know you put together a band. You play for nobles often?”

“No. Absolutely not. I can’t even believe we’re here?” he said, casting his eyes around the room. Though as he looked over the rest of the crescent table that Alyssa sat at, he noticed the Pharaoh staring. That made him jump a bit and snap his eyes back to Alyssa. “I guess someone heard us playing in a tavern and decided to bring us here. I hope you all enjoyed,” he said a little louder with one of the more awkward bows that Alyssa had ever seen.

“It was quite… unique,” the Third Prince said, leaning forward—he had not stood as Alyssa had done. “You say you only play at taverns?”

“Aside from tonight, that is correct.”

“Hmm… I am something of a patron of the arts myself,” the Third Prince said. Alyssa had a little frown, wondering where he might be going with this. And wondering if she shouldn’t try out a silencing miracle—sound was just waves propagating through the air and if she could use Tenebrael’s power to still a bubble of air around him, it should effectively silence him—but decided to hold off for now.

Even despite how nervous the long trailing thought was making Chris.

“Well, I hoped we managed to entertain you for a few minutes,” Chris said, deciding to break the silence himself.

“I didn’t care for the first part. It sounded similar to most minstrels I have heard before, but the latter portion was something definitely unique. There is an amphitheater I visit frequently. It is mostly consumed with traveling bards, a few local minstrels, and a particular playwright whose works invariably contain nothing but unsubtle adulations toward my father. I’m sure we could slot you in if you perform more of that latter portion of your demonstration. I’ll have a contract drawn up. One night a week for four weeks, after which we will evaluate your performances and the crowd they draw—or lack thereof—and consider an extension or other changes.”

“Wow,” Chris said after another long silence. “That’s… I’ll have to talk with the others—”

“I don’t have such a contract on me now, so you have some time. But don’t take too long. I shall have one of my servants meet you out in the hall to discuss a few issues such as how we might contact you.”

“That sounds great. Uh, sir?”

“Please. You may refer to me as Medai.”

“Well thank you, Medai.”

With a short nod, the Third Prince leaned back, clearly done with the conversation. Though he did wave a hand back behind him, calling over one of the servants from behind the row of royals—one who Tess was glaring at—and proceeded to have a whispered conversation with him.

“I’ll call you later on,” Alyssa said. She considered offering to create some real drums and strings for a guitar that weren’t made from pig intestine, but if they broke and she wasn’t available, they wouldn’t be able to replace them easily. It was probably best that his band make do with local materials for now. So she just smiled and said, “We should meet up for lunch again, talk about how you’re doing and such. Maybe get Jason in on it too.”

Chris scoffed. “If he can spare five minutes. Though he did make the foot pedal for the bass drum, so I shouldn’t complain too much. But he’s… busy down at that workshop of his.”

“Yes… I saw pictures of the contraption he and Guillem designed. Haven’t seen it myself yet, but… well, we’ll talk later. All three of us.”

“Right. Enjoy your feast, I guess?”

“I’ll try.”

He turned away, but hesitated a moment. None of his friends were still in the room, all having been ushered out by the hall steward. Luckily for him, the servant the Third Prince had spoken with quickly led him out. That gave the steward the opportunity to bring out another, far more traditional-looking group of lute players, flute players, and other such musicians. These ones, however, did not set up in the center of the room, but rather on a stage-like area far to one side, behind the tables of some great houses.

That probably meant that the meal-portion of the feast was about over.

Alyssa gave a slightly nervous look around the crescent table as she retook her seat. Brakkt had his back to her, talking with the First Prince, but Companion noticed her look and offered a hearty wave.

“That was nice of you,” Alyssa said, turning to the Third Prince.

“Hm?”

“But I hope you weren’t just doing that because of me.”

“Getting that guy a few nights at the amphitheater? No. Was already considering it from halfway through his act.”

“I see… Well, that’s—”

“Oh, Lord Medai.”

Blinking, Alyssa frowned at the new presence at the table. People all around the room were up and moving at this point. Mostly mingling between the tables of the great houses. A few brave ones had approached the main table. Mostly men gathered around Irulon, but also a young woman standing across the table from the First Prince as well as this woman.

“Dina, is that you? Haven’t seen you in quite some time. How have you been?”

The woman flushed, probably finding it hard to believe that a prince would remember her. Though, in her extremely limited experience with the Third Prince, Alyssa doubted that he forgot about many pretty women.

Deciding to not listen in on their conversation, Alyssa turned her attention back to the main floor of the room. Several people were up and about at this point. The minstrels were playing and the people were moving. It wasn’t a dance that Companion had taught her… They didn’t actually seem to have partners. Everyone was moving between each other, weaving around while occasionally reaching out and touching hands. A big group dance of some kind. She wasn’t sure if there was some purpose to it or if they were just out having fun.

“I’m afraid you’re a little out of the loop, my dear. I was grievously injured, valiantly defending our great city from an incursion most foul. There will be no dancing for me tonight, I’m afraid. But perhaps you might be interested in seeing some of my scars back in my chambers?”

Alyssa just rolled her eyes. The woman looked more like a tomato at the moment than she had previously.

“I think I would love that. A chance to get out from under the gaze of my horrid uncle? Can we go now?”

“Please,” Alyssa mumbled.

Apparently just a little too loud. The woman shot her a glare, but the Third Prince just grinned at Alyssa. “Can’t have us irritating the guest of honor tonight. Come, Dina dear.” Standing, the Third Prince waved her around the side of the table. The woman hesitated, seemingly noticing Fela for the first time as she started walking, but the prospect of spending the evening with the prince apparently won over her fear. Steeling herself, the woman quickly stepped past Fela. Shortly after, they disappeared out a side door.

“The feast isn’t over, is it?”

Fela, Alyssa just noticed, was a mess. Her face. Her paws. Even a bit down her front. Alyssa had taken incredible care to avoid getting food on herself. A slightly difficult task as the only utensils were a knife and a two-pronged meat fork. Better forks wouldn’t have helped Fela much, but she could have taken some care in eating…

Alyssa reached over, running her hands over Fela’s mouth, feeling an awful lot like the mother in a restaurant who had to break out the baby wipes for a grubby toddler. Except she didn’t have baby wipes. All she had was the power to utterly obliterate anything she wanted, which was probably better, all things considered. “I think the food part of the feast is over. Though if anyone does offer you more food, it would be nice if you could eat without getting too dirty.”

Looking back down at the dancing group, Alyssa had to ask. “Did your people have dances or anything like that?”

“Like that?” Fela said with a snort.

“It is a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?” Even back on Earth, Alyssa always thought dancing was pretty silly. She just went to the school dances because her friends were going. Beyond as a high school sophomore, she doubted she had danced even once. She certainly couldn’t remember any such occasion.

“Ridiculous or not, having tonight’s guests of honor go without at least one dance will surely reflect poorly on us.”

Alyssa turned around, expecting Brakkt because of the voice. Instead, she found herself staring up at the Pharaoh. She should have been more shocked, but somehow… she just wasn’t. Although their voices were similar, there were enough differences that, subconsciously, she probably knew just who was addressing her.

“It will be trying enough to get Irulon out there… but that is really to be expected at this point. She is always so focused… no time for little pleasantries that won’t always be around.”

Alyssa didn’t necessarily disagree with that, though she still didn’t think that dancing was at all pleasant. “What about Kasita, Fela, and Izsha? Are they going to be required to go dance? Do people even know that we’re supposed to be some guests of honor? It’s not like you announced the reason for this feast or had us give a speech or anything…”

The Pharaoh raised one smooth eyebrow. “Would you like to give a speech?”

“No,” Alyssa snapped out quickly. “No thank you.”

Which just made him chuckle. “As for your friends,” the Pharaoh said, half turning away. “I believe the mimic is already out there dancing.”

Blinking, Alyssa quickly glanced to the opposite end of the table. Both Izsha and Kasita were missing—as was Brakkt, now that she noticed; he was probably taking Izsha back to the stables. Sure enough, Kasita was down on the main floor, grinning wildly as she mimicked the weaving dance that all the rest of the nobles were performing. “Of course she is.”

“After this finishes, there will be a slightly more formal dance. If you would be so kind as to join me…”

Suppressing a frown, Alyssa considered. For a moment, she thought to reject the Pharaoh. His request didn’t feel like an order. It would probably still be rude, but…

She found herself wondering if Brakkt was going to return. Companion had gotten her all riled up. She didn’t really want to dance, but at the same time, she didn’t really feel like dancing with Brakkt would be a terrible experience. Thinking about it in the privacy of her own head where she could try to be honest with herself, she honestly didn’t know what she wanted. Except maybe a bit more of that mulled wine. Though maybe she had drank just a bit too much as it was.

“Companion taught me a slightly more formal dance. Might as well put the lesson to good use,” she mumbled after a moment of thought. Putting on a sly grin, she looked over to her friend. “Though only if you dance with Fela after.”

“Me? Why me? I don’t know how to dance.”

“If I have to suffer, so do you.”

“You’re thinking this will be far worse than it will actually be,” the Pharaoh said. “As for dancing with Fela… it would be my pleasure,” he added without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Which made Alyssa feel a bit better about the whole thing. The Pharaoh and her friends, including Brakkt and Irulon, were probably the only ones who would actually dance with Fela. She doubted Fela cared, but she still didn’t want her friend to be left out if it did turn out to be a good experience.

Alyssa wasn’t counting on it, however. And, after a few more minutes, the dancing ended and the Pharaoh led her down to the dance floor by taking her hand. Alyssa didn’t know much about dances. She suspected that this was something akin to a waltz, but she really didn’t know the difference between a waltz and a tango. It didn’t involve changing partners, for which Alyssa was quite glad as she didn’t really want to dance with a whole bunch of nobles. Especially not with Decorous dancing a few paces away from her. The less she interacted with him, the better off everyone would be.

It wasn’t a slow dance either. Not the romantic kind that would finish off a high school dance, anyway—Alyssa had once danced with a boy during such a song, though it had been less dancing and more hugging while slowly sidestepping in a circle. Very awkward. For both of them.

Dancing with the Pharaoh was a little less awkward. Alyssa felt like she was making all kinds of mistakes, but the Pharaoh managed to keep going in perfectly smooth steps. So smooth that it made her wonder if he was somehow using Time magic to know when she was about to step on his feet and skillfully move out of the way in time.

“Companion has taught you well, it seems.”

Alyssa definitely did not feel like that was true, but she accepted the compliment anyway. “What do you actually think of Companion anyway?” she asked as she danced around the Pharaoh, using the dragon to keep the conversation away from herself.

“She certainly came as a surprise. It is unsettling just how similar her mannerisms are to those of my daughter. But she’s a lot more ambitious. Trying to claim seniority in terms of inheritance because she is an ancient dragon.” The Pharaoh gave a light chuckle as if the thought was amusing, but barely concerned him.

“Yeah… is that going to work?”

“I’m considering letting her and my eldest son have a little battle of wits and words over the next few years. Though perhaps I should consider something a bit more fair to the poor dragon.”

“Fair? You know that she and Irulon still share a mental connection, right? And she’s a dragon…”

“What do dragons do aside from laze about for decades if not centuries at a time? And in a contest of wits, my eldest son would triumph over my eldest daughter.”

“How much of that triumph comes from Irulon viewing the whole thing as a farce, only participating out of obligation instead of desire to win?”

The Pharaoh nodded his head, conceding the point. “It wouldn’t be a crushing victory, but I still believe my son would come out ahead. You haven’t spent much time with him, but he is sharper than you might think.”

“If she did win, would you actually let her sit on the throne of humanity? A dragon?”

“Why not? I’ve been looking to shake things up around here. Stagnation is death. A new perspective and a controversial leader might be enough to spur some changes in society.”

“Wouldn’t that start riots?”

“That would likely be part of the contest. Whoever rules next already needs to show that they can keep the houses from tearing each other apart. And themselves, where applicable.”

“So she actually has a chance?”

“All my children do. Some don’t think they do, which turns into a self-fulfilling thought. If they don’t think they can rule, they won’t rule. Simple as that.”

“So the First, Second, Third, and so on… That’s all just nonsense?”

“It certainly determines who gets the most training. But if one of my children can rise above the handicap of not having had my personal attentions since birth, doesn’t that mean they are vastly more fit to rule? Of course, I don’t plan to abdicate soon. Evaluations will continue.”

The minstrels wound down on their tune. The dance was almost at an end. She had honestly barely noticed the steps and moving about during her conversation with the Pharaoh. She wasn’t possibly good enough to have carried on while dancing, but at the same time, there was actually a certain serenity that came with letting her mind go and just following the steps of her partner…

The dance ended with a courteous bow to the Pharaoh, who returned the bow. Probably one of the few times that he actually bowed to anyone, even if it was just part of the dance. Before he could run off to ask Fela for a dance—something Alyssa was beyond excited to see—she had to ask one more question.

“And if I wanted to rule?”

The Pharaoh laughed. Not the polite chuckle he had done earlier, but a real hearty laugh. Alyssa found herself scowling at him. It was true that she didn’t want to be the Pharaoh, but she didn’t think she would be so bad at it as to warrant such a hard laugh. She thought she did a pretty good job acting as an intermediary between Illuna and the monsters. She had successfully managed to prevent any incidents from occurring… though maybe that was more thanks to Martin and Volta than anything she had directly done. She probably wouldn’t have been anywhere near as successful had she tried to do the same at Yora.

“I’ll speak with you later,” the Pharaoh said as he turned and headed back to the crescent table.

Alyssa tried to follow him back, less because she was following him and more because her seat was in the same direction, but wound up quickly stopped. And then stopped again. And again. Eight different people tried to proposition her for a dance. None of whom she knew. They kept coming, even as Alyssa politely rejected one after another. By the time she made it back to her seat, the next dance was already starting.

The Pharaoh and Fela were both down on the floor. All the other dancers gave them a wide berth. And yet, despite Fela having had absolutely no training from Companion or anyone else, the Pharaoh still managed to make her somewhat clumsy movements into something resembling a dance. It wasn’t graceful, but it did work. Somehow.

“Alyssa.”

Brakkt’s voice came from right behind her. This time, it had to be Brakkt. She had her eyes on the Pharaoh, after all. Though, as she set down the goblet of mulled wine, she supposed that the Pharaoh could probably use Time magic to be in multiple places at the same time.

“I thought you took off for the night,” Alyssa said as she turned to find that she really was speaking with Brakkt.

“Izhsa… probably didn’t appreciate the invitation as much as Fela. Let’s just say that.”

“Sorry. At least the food was good, right?”

“Heh… That is probably one of the few reasons it wasn’t biting your head off on the way out.”

“Izsha wouldn’t do that… would it? Izsha couldn’t have been that upset.”

“I might be exaggerating a little,” Brakkt said with a smile. “Still, I would probably avoid getting my father to bring the draken to things like this in the future.”

“Yeah, well… At least Fela seems to be having fun.”

The hellhound was currently making a game of the dance, seemingly trying to step on the Pharaoh’s feet. He didn’t let her, of course, which made Alyssa wonder if Fela was grinning or baring her teeth. It was hard to tell the difference. Still, it turned what was supposed to have been a rather slower dance into something far faster paced. More akin to something Alyssa might have seen in high school.

Most of the other dancers had stopped just to stare at the two. If the Pharaoh wanted to shake things up, taking Fela as a dance partner was certainly a good choice.

“Hey,” Alyssa said, glancing back over her shoulder. “You, uh… want to dance?”

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Alyssa snapped her head back to the dance floor. The heat in her cheeks welled. That wasn’t how it was supposed to have gone at all. Companion said that Brakkt would ask her. But she had gone and asked him? And now she was acting like some middle schooler asking out their first crush.

“Oh god…” Was that what he was? A crush? No. They were like work colleagues who hung out on the weekends. Friends. Good friends, even, but still friends…

“Is something wrong?”

Alyssa spun around… moving just a little too fast. There was a slight wobble in her step, but it vanished the moment Brakkt put his hands on her shoulders, helping to steady her. “No. Nothing wrong at all.”

“Good. Because I’d love to dance.”

“Okay.” Alyssa took a deep breath. Letting it back out, she smiled. “Okay. Let’s dance.”

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