The Golden Ticket – Sheryl, the Fae-Touched – 21.07.2020

---

An unfamiliar, almost strange feeling has been present in Sheryl’s mind over the last tenday since her return from Luskan. She had tried to determine what the source of this peculiar feeling could have been. Going over the events of recent weeks, there were two occurrences she kept coming back to: The battle at the Sundered Chains during the Rift War; and the Marfachrei.

“It was the first time I participated in the Marfachrei and not paired off with someone, Astra. It’s practically unheard of in the Court.”

“You said it has happened before though, right?”

“It has…” Sheryl worries at her lip absentmindedly. “But not in many a turn of the Wheel. I’m worried what it could mean.”

“Do you think it will affect your standing in Queen Titania’s Court?”

“I don’t know.” Her heart squeezes. “I had hoped that it would be the night Kruxeral would come to me, or that I would find him. I want a chance to mend things between us.” Sheryl sighs, burying her fingers into Astra’s mane as they fly over the treetops of the Feythorn Forest heading back to Daring.

“Do you miss him?” Astra asks, sensing the unspoken feelings beneath their bond.

“I do miss him. But I no longer know if he misses me or even thinks of me. And that…” She stops herself, not wanting to follow that train of thought. “He has always been there, watching over me. Kruxeral protected me.” Swirling blue eyes look to the horizon, seeing memories rather than the rolling green treetops below them. “There were many reasons why I wanted to explore the Realms when I first asked my Queen Mother if I could leave her Court. One of them was so I could become stronger and not be so reliant upon him. I did not want to always be the Student, I wanted to be his equal, to be able to stand beside him with my own power.”

Astra doesn’t say anything, her steady wing beats a comforting, rhythmic counterpoint to the beating of Sheryl’s confused and worried heart.

“Why does love have to be so tricksome?!” Sheryl shouts into the wind. For some reason, doing so makes her feel a little better. She calls out again, this time a bit more melodious and her mind eases as the knots around her heart start to detangle a bit. The fae-bard feels Astra’s sides shaking and it takes her a moment to realise she is laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Astra looks back at her mistress briefly before she banks to the left, slowly descending.

“For someone who likes to sing about love, you sure have tied yourself up in knots with it.”

Sheryl rolls her eyes. “Oh ha-ha, very funny. My pains are very real Astra, I hope you know.”

“I do, Merla.”

They get closer to the ground and Sheryl grabs hold of the vines around Astra’s withers, preparing for their landing. Without a lurch or a misstep, the winged unicorn transitions from flying to galloping as gracefully as a swan would when landing on a lake.

“Well… maybe this trip to The House of Wondrous Pleasures tomorrow will help ease my heart a little bit more.”

---

There was a perpetual mischievous quirk to Sheryl’s lips as Taz talked to Za’zymm, selling their skills. The fae-bard was amused, watching how Arkadius hung back, maybe finally realising his lack of disguise from the last time was probably not the smartest idea on his part, but also at how smooth Taz was trying to be with his sales pitch. It seemed to work though as the djinn made them a proposition.

“An acquaintance of mine has a music box that I would like to acquire… for safe keeping, naturally. He is a tinkerer and a bit of an artificer by trade and would keep such an item in the factory that he runs. If you can bring this to me, I will guarantee you six invitations to my fine establishment.”

“I think that sounds reasonable enough,” Taz says, looking at Sheryl and the others. Everyone nodded their assent.

“Of course, should you be caught and try to tie any of it back to me I will deny everything and, well – ha-ha-ha… – you will see how quickly you won’t be believed.” The golden bells on his chains jingled merrily in the invisible wind that swirled around him.

“We recently led an invasion into Avernus, I think we can handle this,” Taz boasts. It doesn’t look like Za’zymm believes him though. Still, the djinn gives them a map to the Candy Factory and they start to make their way over there.

“I think it might be best if we disguise ourselves before we break into this factory,” Sheryl suggests to the group, as they duck into an alleyway.

“That would probably be best, yes,” Arkadius says.

“Well I have this hat…” Ghesh starts, pulling out a rather crumpled looking thing Sheryl recognises.

“I have a spell that will work for the rest of us. It will make you all Seem like you look different, but not actually change your person. So it would be best to keep to the same size I think, to make sure the illusion holds up against any scrutinising eyes.”

Taz asks to be given the illusionary appearance of a tortle, whilst Bones requests to look like a hawk aarakokra.

“There’s only so many things you can be when you’ve got wings.”

“He’s got a point,” Arkadius agrees. “Make me look blue.”

Sheryl pouts playfully. “Is that all? Could I make your horns look like icicles at least-”

“Do not do anything to my horns,” he says rather harshly.

“Alright, alright,” Sheryl said, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. It was very unlike Arkadius to be so on edge, let alone to snap at her like that. But she didn’t hold onto it.

“Can you make me look like a goliath and Blue like a woodpecker?” BB asks, and Sheryl nods.

Weaving the somatic shapes into existence in front of her as if she was conducting them forth from an orchestra, softly singing in Sylvan, Sheryl expertly drew the names of their disguises in the air. Then, with a flick of her hands, she sent the symbols to each of her friends. As the magic collided with them the symbols burst into a shower of glittering stars, covering them in their new, illusion appearance.

They blinked or rubbed the stars from their eyes and stared at each other, impressed with the magical disguises they all now wore.

Sheryl’s illusion dwarven face broke out into her trademark, mischievous grin. “Now, let’s figure out how we’re getting in.”

---

The main workroom of the warehouse was completely empty, none of the clay or crystal golems which had been patrolling the other areas to be found here. The private office of one Randal Candy, owner of the factory, lay ahead. It was eerily quiet and that uneasy, dark disquiet was starting to creep into her thoughts. Taking it as her gut instinct to maybe not cross the open floor, Sheryl needs only to think it and her multicoloured, feathered wings lift her up and start moving her forward.

…Kraa…

Sheryl looks to her left then right, listening to see if she hears anything. But whether the sound she thought she just heard was real or not she couldn’t tell. The others started moving forward, no one having any trouble crossing the room to Mr. Candy’s office.

Bones gets the office door unlocked easily and they go inside. There is a large, metal safe-like closet beside the main desk which looks like the kind of place they could find the music box. Taking a look, Sheryl determines that though the scratching around the keyhole looks like a drunkard’s attempt to get the key in the hole, it is actually Pixie Script. The fae-bard glances back at the chair behind the desk, notes how small it is, and suddenly feels like she knows exactly what kind of lock this is, and what will make it open.

“Bones, can you help me with this?”

With Bones using his lock picks and Sheryl casting magic into the lock, together they get it to open and there, waiting for them is the bone white, small music box they came for.

As Sheryl, Bones and BB look it over, seeing more of the Pixie Script written on it, BB notices the ruins itself describe how the music box works. It seems to trap music and life within it. The small woman can tell that BB is quite uncomfortable with that idea.

“Pixies are more mischievous than nefarious by nature. I’m sure it’s not-”

Thud. Thud. THUD. THUD.

“Um, guys? We got company!” Ghesh says from the doorway, a panic to his voice that makes them all rush towards the door. Sheryl puts the music box in her Handy Satchel, before she zooms past the others, seeing what manner of creature is coming for them.

---

“Come on BB, snap out of it! We’ve got to go!” Sheryl calls out to her friend, hoping to inspire the firbolg out of her frightened state before turning her full attention to the lumbering arcane dreadnought. She calls forth another Shattering sphere of thunder and the concussive explosion damages its mechanical form. Not waiting to see her handiwork, Sheryl flies over to the workbenches in an attempt to hide from its merciless attacks.

The cover does not seem to help her though as another volley from the arm cannon of the dreadnought explodes in fire and thunder all around her. Shaking her head and patting out the fire that’s trying to cling to her, she gets ready to make one last pass at this troublesome construct.

Kraa!…

Shooting out of the smoke and flames like a dark bird through the air, Sheryl calls forth another concussive sphere of magical thunder. The shadows below her swirl, looking darker than they should, dark enough for two, as her spell finds its mark and finishes off the mechanical construct.

There’s a moment of stillness.

Shouts can be heard coming from outside, heading in their direction, but Sheryl and her friends are already moving. They quickly vacate the premises, losing anyone trying to track their escape in the winding streets and alleys of Sigil.

---

They were making their way back to the House of Wondrous Pleasure when BB sidled up beside Sheryl, trying to act casual.

“Soooo,” BB starts, looking down at Sheryl, her voice quiet. “That, uh, new feather cloak you’re wearing is pretty cool… but also it’s very gothic looking.” The small woman raises an eyebrow. “It’s even got a whole feeling of dread associated with it. It’s… an interesting change in style.”

Sheryl gives BB a bemused look. “Dread? It’s not that scary, surely… Or is it because it makes me look more like the fey I am? Fierce and not someone to be messed with!” She puts on an air of being more regal and otherworldly which does come across a bit more intimidating than Sheryl intended it to be.

“Maybe?” BB says, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “You are certainly a force to be reckoned with. But you’ve also always been just and kind Sheryl, I’m worried this cloak is changing that in a way without you even realising. Just, if you’ve noticed anything weird recently, don’t brush it off. Make note of it. You know my history of experiences with certain magic items, I’m just looking out for you.”

Sheryl gives BB a reassuring smile as she takes the firbolg’s hands in hers.

“A cloak won’t change my heart so easily BB, even if this one is doing that, which I highly doubt it is.” She lowers her voice a little. “We all went through something that altered us when we went into Averus to fight Zariel’s army. We experienced a lot, lost some things…” Her expression saddens for a moment before it flickers back into her usual sunny smile, a light of mischief in her eyes. “…and gained some. I know you’re looking out for me, just as I will look out for you. When you’re ready to look into your blessing,” Sheryl looks down at the tattoos on BB’s arms, “I’ll be by your side.”

BB smiles a little, but also sighs. “Thank you. Just keep what I said in mind okay? I worry. You’re right in that Avernus changed us all, but let’s not let the memories of that experience ruin today’s good fun!”

“Of course!”

---

Finally, we got our invitations! Let's see what this place has to offer.

Sheryl set off right away, not in a rush, but with an excited anticipation of what she may find that would tickle her fancy. She wasn’t sure which pleasure she wanted to experience first. She was just wondering where to start looking for a music room when she turned a corner and walked into a small amphitheatre. Tiered seating rose above her, the seats empty. Soft sun-like light shone overhead through the branches of a large tree bathing the stage in a green and gold light where the most beautiful grand piano sat.

Mouth agape, Sheryl steps forward, hand reaching out to run across the light and dark keys of the familiar instrument – the same one Kruxeral had played at the last performance they did together all those moons ago. There is no one else in the amphitheatre, just her and the beautiful instrument.

And the echo of a memory.

She sits down on the piano bench, finding it is the perfect height for her. Fingertips trembling, heart fluttering, Sheryl brings up her right hand and lays it on the D and B-flat keys.

The first two notes ring out, pure and sweet. A shiver runs down her spine as she repeats the notes, closing her eyes, savouring the taste of the music in the air. She breathes in, and swears she can smell the meadow.

Our meadow.

Merla starts to play through a song she has never heard nor played before. The music is being born in the moment as if it is a living and breathing thing. Her eyes are closed but her hands know exactly which keys to press, where the tempo increases and when there is a suspension between the notes. It’s not long before she doesn’t know where the music ends and she begins, so much of her is in what she is playing. Merla feels she is the music. Heart beating hard against the cage of her ribs, wanting to dance on the beams of summer light that make her skin glow golden. Fresh dew falls from her eyes but there is no happiness or sadness to them, they are all of her emotions manifested. A shiver of ecstasy courses through her as she reaches the crescendo.

As the journey of the song nears its end Merla feels her spirit coming back into her body, the music getting quieter, no longer coming from her, but from the grand piano itself. Her heart settles in its cage, no longer fluttering against it’s bindings. As she plays the final notes she sees a face – wood-brown fey features, verdant eyes and a wicked grin that hides promises. Then the eyes change, becoming sharp peridot in a face marred by two distinct scars, and though there is a cold hardness to the eyes at first, they soften as a smile touches the pale man’s lips.

The fae-bard sighs, opening her eyes as the last notes hang in the air. She glances to the stands and is surprised to see she is no longer alone. Sheryl spots her friends all clustered together, applauding her and she smiles warmly at them. But then she starts to notice the applause is louder than just her five friends. She looks around and sees just how full the amphitheatre is, spotting a number of different types of elementals, a few lesser fiends, a couple of djinn, even a devil, and several eladrin with the telltale mark of the Feywild on their skin.

Music truly is a universal language.

Sheryl bows her head to them all and turns back to the piano. Fingers running across the keys, she lets it speak to her for when the music is ready.

There.

She plays for hours, song after song, sometimes singing, other times not. The audience comes and goes, but she is not playing for them. This is for her, for her heart and for her soul. And no one else.

---

After spending hours in the House of Wondrous Pleasures, sampling more than just the Grand Piano room, Sheryl was ready to leave. She was waiting for her other friends to get back from Ghesh’s fight with the young black dragon when she spotted Arkadius waiting in the front gardens by one of the fountains.

“Did you find the pleasures you were looking for, Arkadius?”

He gives the establishment a shrewd glance. “I would never have found what I wanted in there.”

Sheryl gives him a searching look and he seems to gather himself. Arkadius inhales, pauses and then reaches out to take her hands in his.

“I want to go home, finally, but… I won’t be able to do this without you,” he says, his voice shaking with emotion. “I want you there with me when we go. Like I was there for you when you asked, can you be there for me?”

The emotions tearing through him are plain to see and she finally understands why he has been on edge.

The fey bard takes a step closer, bringing Arkadius’ hands up to her lips and kissing the right one softly.

“You are my best friend Arkadius and I will be with you every step of the way. You came with me to the Feywild when I asked you to. Now it’s my turn to return the favour. Let’s find your home – together.” She kisses his left hand, looking earnestly up at him.

He swallows and smiles, sadness still present slightly in his eyes. “Thank you, Sheryl. My best friend. I’m glad you’ll be there, that gives me hope that we will succeed. I know you love your home, and… I think there might be a chance I might love mine too.”

He looks down, meeting her gaze. “I would invite Kassandra too, but I think she might be busy continuing with her kill count, or something equally awesome,” Arkadius says, his usual happiness slowly returning with a giggle.

“We'll make sure you can tell Kassandra all about your home when you come back. I’m sure she would love to hear it,” Sheryl says with a knowing wink.