You stroll down the beach at night, clad in your light-weight leather armor, looking at the moon like you desire to be there one day, but not before you complete what you've set out to do, you get back to your campfire, sit down, your gaze locked on the crackling flame.
Your lips shift slightly all of a sudden, as if you were about to say something, but instead of speaking you draw a small smile, thinking of how silly it'd have been if you did such a thing with no one around to talk to and the smile grows wider since you never thought yourself the type to feel even the slightest itch of loneliness, though you realize - deep down - that you long for someone who understands your silent nature, how you prefer action to words and be fine with it all the same.
You quickly discard the heavy train of thoughts and lie down for a bit of rest after an exhausting day of traveling, hunting and some confrontation against your run-of-the-mill thug for hire after your life, you look at the sky and draw another smile as you hear .. music ?
At first, you think it was your own mind conjuring up a beat to suit the atmosphere, a quality - you thought - most people lack, but to you was something that came as natural as breathing.
A minute later and you're absolutely certain, the sound is very much real, it's coming from the south-east of your location, about 700 footsteps away from your location, you think of how your hearing is this strong after years of living a hunter's life, you take in the pride for a moment but your curiousity is nigh bursting right about now as you start going in the direction of that charming, cheeky but slightly melancholic beating.
Strutting quicker and quicker by the step, eager to reach your destination which finally happens after what seemed an eternity.
There she stood, fragile figure, bony fingers holding a flute, dressed the same as a bard would, she was happily dancing to her own tone, white hair swirling in the breeze, her boots snapping on the stony ground below her give the music more, of what you're not sure, you think to yourself..
" She's.. old. "
You'd think the cheeky tone of her music would come from someone younger, more energetic. She notices your presence which seems to startle her, she stops playing and looks at you, in an attempt to ease the woman's fright you say ..
"Your music, beautiful."
You sit down and listen, the woman, now a bit relieved, starts playing again, the embers of her campfire dancing around her once more in what seems to be a miraculous sight.
Unlike most of the sort, her music wasn't dramatic, neither were it epic, it's like the sort of music that would lull a child to sleep but still not quite, it tells of a funny story that'd make some smile, and others laugh, though it comes with a hidden sad tale in the background.
As hours passed, with you joyfully listening, the woman seems to have gotten a bit more comfortable with your company, the leaves rustling to her tone, and even the creatures of the night seemed to have quieted down to enjoy her performance.
Suddenly, she stops, she knew it was time.
You stand to attention as the woman looks at you with a gaze of regret, of pity, as if she wanted to keep company for just a little longer.
For some god-knows-what reason she's slowly disappearing, from toe to head.
Shock overtakes you, a person you'd finally had the pleasure to keep company - as short as this encounter was - is somehow being removed from existence, you try to say something but your throat is locked, words are gone before you can form them, she gestures that you step forward, and while you were doing so, mind swarmed with all sorts of thoughts, she flicks her middle finger towards your forehead, snapping you out of your thoughts and turning your full attention towards her face, which - to your surprise - had a full on smile with no other signs of regret or pity this time, as bright as the moon overlooking you both, a smile that shouts of appreciation, of happiness, as if the woman had never had such company before, and you feel you have no other choice but to smile back, as you share the same rare sentiment.
She completely disappears, and you take a few steps back to try and understand what just happened, magic is no stranger to the world you live in, but you've never seen such a sort before.
You slowly walk back to your own camp, but before you could come to any sort of conclusion, a sprite appears, out of nowhere, it resembles the woman that just disappeared but much smaller in size, and in ethereal form, she flies towards you, flute in hand and sits on your shoulder.
As you approach the beach again, the sun starting to rise, she starts playing her cheeky tone and you smile slightly at the irony, you thought the story's gonna have a sad ending. Well..Joke's on you!
....The end.
A bit of clarification: The whole thing is my own personal thoughts (excuse the mess) on a couple of things, a tribute to others, i tried saying it in a more peculiar style and this was the result. Loving solitude is not a common thing and finding company in which your privacy or personal space don't get trampled is even more uncommon. The music I'm referring to is the music of one Kirill Pokrovsky, the late musical composer for the divinity game series, he passed away on the first of June two years ago, and the bard i'm speaking of is a compilation of many people i knew, a friend of mine, my aunt ( and a couple of others) and how she slowly passed away to cancer .. and so on.
Image courtesy of Google search.
I realize this story feels a bit rushed, but I hope you found it entertaining and..
Thanks for reading.