Starting a Band – The Planes of Existence

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At the Flourished Hook Matthew was sorting out his bill as he sees Arkadius walking behind him. He finishes it fast then leaps to catch up with unnecessary performance calling out, “Hey six fingers, how are you?"

Arkadius grinned for a moment. "I think you'll find it is useful having six fingers, but I get your intention," he said, slapping one of his six-fingered hands down lightly on his friend's shoulder affirmingly. "I'm fine, my friend. I haven’t been pecked to death again. Not quite yet, and I've almost got the smell of smoked sewer vine out of my clothes. How are you faring?"

Matthew Smiles "Not bad. Thinking of going to Daring Heights, to get inspired by some of those new musicians appearing. Maybe they will help me find out what exactly is I am looking for."

The two start making their way out into the sun, through the town’s centre and out onto the windy road that connects it to the town on a hill, surrounded by forests.

---

The Fair Winds was one of the nicer establishments in Daring Heights. Wood paneling, polished with a nice varnish, tables spaced out with cushioned chairs, the patrons each around their own islands of light. Some tables had extravagant meals, others had a mix of small dishes which were picked at with soft hands. The talk was low, soft murmurs. A gentle melody of notes lilting through the air came from a raised dais, swaying through the air to weave around wooden railings that divided up sections of the floor. All were able to see the beautifully dressed halfling woman as she played a sweet set for all who came into the establishment that evening.

Sheryl’s fey wings had changed since Arkadius last seen her. They seemed more real, more magical. Which was impossible because he knew they weren’t real… And yet-

“Is that your friend you mentioned?” Mathew asks Arkadius, breaking through his thoughts. Sheryl is dancing across the stage as she plays through the intro to her current song.

“Yes, that’s her,” he answers, “I need a drink,” he grumbles and walks off to the bar, muttering about being jealous about something.

Mathew gives a nod and searches for an empty table, finding one near the edge of the room. He takes a seat, eyes transfixed on the woman performing, studying her as one artist would another.

Sheryl, absorbed in the swell of the intro as she comes to its end, doesn’t notice her friend Arkadius or the man watching her so intently. She is lost in the magic of the music, holding the audience’s breath with the final chord, fingers carrying the notes up to the sky.

Then the wave comes crashing down.

        Leaping off the edge into the abyss of despair
        When living alone becomes unbearable to the soul
        I want to be by your side, never losing you to time
        Through the ages that has been my only wish

        Wandering in search of forgiveness
        I want these eyes to reflect only you

        If I cannot say “goodbye”
        My heart will slip off into the darkness for eternity
        Your hands were too kind
        It left behind a wound, oh, but I wasn’t afraid
        I did not need to love myself...

        Where are you now?

Sheryl continues to sing and dance across the stage, twirls and swirls of tulle fabric from her leaf-green dress making her look like she floats across the stage, feet never touching the ground. The song comes to its end and the patrons clap, some even whistle. She smiles and bows low, wings shimmering as they catch the candle lights in the room.

Arkadius again mutters to himself, “Her wings are nicer than mine. It isn’t fair.”

He turns to face Mathew, feeling inspired by the performance and putting aside wing-jealousy. “So, listen. I’ve been meaning to tell you something, since we… had that trip over to Kundar, after you saved my life.” Mathew nods absentmindedly. Arkadius continues on the floodgates starting to open. “No doubt you remember my, uhh… dislike of music?” He pauses for a moment, a final hesitation before speaking again, sounding rather embarrassed by his words and rushing through them quickly like a child admitting to a mistake. “I don’t hate music. I just dislike the idea of music, as my parents forced me to learn the lyre as a kid. I know how to play the lyre, I’m not proud of it, and I’m jealous you’re all better than me, and let’s not talk about it ever again.” Arkadius stops speaking abruptly, downs whatever alcoholic beverage was within his reach, slamming down the glass onto the table with the flourish of a natural habitual drinker. “Maybe– I dunno... What do you think?”

Mathew, with his eyes still focusing on the halfling, still absorbing the song, dissecting it and testing all the notes in his head, completely unaware of what Arkadius just told him except the fact that he can play the lyre says, “She is terrific– Wait, what? You can play an instrument? You gotta show me. Better yet join me for a song!” Completely focusing on Arkadius now, Mathew calls for a bottle of brandy and a couple of glasses.

Whilst the half angel tempts the half devil to try his six-fingered hand at music, the fey-daughter finishes the first part of her set to a warm round of applause. She is beaming as she steps off the dais to have her half hour break in the evening whilst the patrons enjoy the main part of their meals. It’s at this point that she spots her tall tiefling friend. Sheryl notices he has a look of trepidation on his face as the man talking to him looks like he’s attempting to convince him of something. Curious, she slips off to the side and makes her way over to the table surreptitiously.

“I- No, I’m not ready for tha- Sheryl!” Arkadius starts as Sheryl suddenly sees his friend seemingly appear beside their table. A plan was quickly forming in his mind, he leaps to his feet. “Tell my dear friend Mathew that I should never, ever, ever go on stage. Ever.” He gives her a pleading look. “It would be… bad.”

“Oh, you know each other?” Mathew stands up and gives a flourished bow taking Sheryl’s hand and giving it a small kiss. Sheryl gives him a playful smile. “I am Mathew Mentar, pleasure to meet you and even greater pleasure to attend your performance.” With a small heartfelt smile, he pulls up a third seat and gestures to the staff to bring out one more glass.

Glad of the disruption to previous events, Arkadius sits back down at the table. “Yes. Sheryl’s a good friend of mine, a very good friend. Rather like you, she’s saved my life when I’ve made mistakes. A stellar performance yet again, my dear. What’s with the, uhh… fancier wings? Couldn’t you repair the old ones?" he said, a smile slowly appearing on his face. Good work. Keep it up. Then we don’t have to face the music, he internally monologues.

Sheryl takes a small sip of the feywine the server brings her before she speaks. “These are my new and improved wings. Faye helped me with them.” She turns to Mathew. “They are also from the Feywild! Such a lovely person. They helped me, just like my dear friend Arkadius did, when I was being torn apart by giant lizards.” A small blush touches her ears at remembering how badly things went on their last adventure. “It went… rather poorly.”

Matthew says straight away, “Well, glad to see that you are still here and your inner song still powerful for everyone to enjoy. I’ve been through something similar a few months ago with some ancient god and ghosts but luckily my blood was strong enough to withstand their attacks at the cost of my new snakeskin cloak.”

Sheryl looks at Mathew with interest as he speaks. “Wow that’s amazing! I’d love to hear more of this some other time.” She turns to Arkadius, “I’m going to have to back in 20 minutes to do the second part of my performance but–” and a sly grin spreads across her face. “–what is this I heard about you being able to play the lyre? I thought you hated music Arkadius.” Sheryl’s eyes twinkle with a mischievous light as she stares down her friend.

Mathew downs his glass in one go and starts pouring another healthy serving while seeing where this will go with a look of amusement.

All of the blood drains from Arkadius’ face, leaving him looking a little paler than he was a few moments ago. “...You heard that. Oh. Joy,” was his simple response, the usual grin on his face missing. “Fine. Whatever. I only hate music, as I said, cause I was forced to learn the lyre. Might as well be open about it now, sure.”

Sheryl rests her small hand on Arkadius’ large, red one and smiles gently. “Music can be whatever you want it to be. It can heal, it can bring joy, it can be a way to express your hearts most secret desires.” She glances to Mathew and an idea pops into her head. “I may be wrong, but I get the feeling you are also a connoisseur of music. Maybe even a player of it?”

Matthew looks up with a smile and picks up the resting lute from next to him, “I dabble a bit.”

“Hmmm,” Sheryl looks Mathew up and down. “I have to return to the stage to play in 20 minutes, but I wonder…” Sheryl looks between the two men, the idea become more of a plan. “Give me a moment.” She suddenly gets up and dashes away.

Mathew with a laugh looks at Arkadius and says, “Oh, I think I know where this is going and I love it. You though….” Speaks no further waiting for Sheryl with a mischievous smile.

Arkadius’ face goes a little more pale. “I think I know where it’s heading too, and I don’t like it one bit, no. Unless she’s just gonna take you up on the stage instead and do a duet, in which case… sure! I like that. But something tells me it isn’t a duet she’s planning, and more a trio.”

After a few minutes Sheryl returns, sauntering over to their table, a lilting skip to her step. “Get ready friends, we go on in 15 minutes.” She turns to Arkadius. “This means you too.” She beams up at him, turning up the charm with her smile. “I need to change outfits! I’ll meet you over there,” she points to where she went backstage, “once I’m ready.” She gives Arkadius a heartfelt look of encouragement, turns and skips away, humming a tune.

Mathew smile deepens but his eyes are becoming a bit unfocused as he downs another glass with only a third of the bottle left. Just a minute or so before Mathew stands up and approaches the stage with a snap of his fingers smoke starts flying from his hand and covers the stage with half a foot of fog, not moving out of it. Then he snaps his fingers again, stopping the flow saying, “That should do it.”

Arkadius watches Sheryl skip away, and sits there quietly for a moment, watching his other friend head towards the stage. He follows, watching Mathew cover the stage with the smoke, and finally pipes up, “I don’t really think I have anything to bring to the situation, seriously. You’re both better than me, I’m just gonna bring you down. This is a bad idea,” he says, peering at his friend closely, noticing that he has stopped his dance-like walking and now seems to be trying to be a lot more careful, as if trying to focus. “Are… you OK there, friend?”

Mathew looks worried a moment and looks behind him on his shoulder for a moment before relaxing. “Oh, I am always OK, unless something tries to ruin my clothes.” With a chuckle looks back at his handy work and downs another drink.

A few minutes later, Sheryl arrives, changed into her adventuring gear. Gone is the lighter armoured leather she used to wear. Instead it’s now an intricate pattern of vines and leaves, studded with vicious looking flowers on leather dyed an aubergine purple. A new rapier is strapped to her side. Where before her wings looked beautiful, now they look like they could cut the air if she whirled around to fast. The transformation is very different and it’s a bit unsettling.

“Ready?” is all she says to the two of them.

“Ready as we could be. I like this look by the way,” Matthew chimes as he takes out a neatly folded cloak out of his small bag and unfolds it into showing a midnight colour silken cloak with gothic symbols woven with white silk on it and wears it jumping on stage and offering his hand to both Sheryl and Arkadius. Sheryl takes his hand, gladly, gracefully leaping up onto the stage, her wings folding back and down out of the way.

Resigning himself to the “torture” he was about to be dealt, Arkadius takes Mathew’s hand with a sigh, he flutters of his wings to assist with climbing up to the stage to stand alongside his companions. “I hope you both know what you’re letting yourselves into, I’m really bad. Seriously, I haven’t played this in years,” he said, as he pulled his lyre out of his backpack.

“Just relax and have a drink. On your mark Sheryl.”

“Just live in the music Arkadius. Your hands will remember the rest,” she says and gives him a wink. Then she turns to the audience, raising a hand. Like magic, a quiet falls on the audience, as utensils are set down and glasses stop clinking.

“I hope you all have been enjoying your evening. This next set is a little different, a first time in these lands. But sure to be a memorable one.”

Sheryl looks back at Mathew, and then Arkadius, nods, and starts plucking the first small notes on her harp. She starts alone, careful, and delicate. A small melody of single notes lifting over the crowd. As the music starts to fill the space she look to Arkadius on her right and nods encouragement for him to join her.

Arkadius nods in response and closes his eyes for a brief moment, his six fingers sliding into place around the lyre reflexibly. It seemed to come back to him naturally, all of the childhood lessons hadn’t quite abandoned him as much as he had tried to leave them behind.

At the same time from her other side, Mathew starts strumming chords on his lyre, bringing a baiser, fuller sound that sends tingles of excitement down her spine. This is it. This is the magic, she thinks to herself as she closes her eyes, getting to the end of the introduction of the song. The other two look at her, but she doesn’t notice. Her hands hold the breath of the notes, suspended on the peak of the mountain. Then she opens her lips and starts to sing, hands tearing across her harp in a strong chord.

        It happens every night
        I watch my world ignite
        But there's no waking from this nightmare
        The stage is always set
        The place I can’t forget
        The hidden eyes that I can feel there…

Sheryl holds the last note, building it to a crescendo. The patrons are on the edge of their seats uncertain what they are hearing as the music these three bards are playing is something they have never heard before. Then Sheryl gestures to Arkadius, wings flashing out in dramatic flare as they are released into a hard riff on his lyre. The louder, heavier chords now tear through the room as his six fingers dancing across the strings of his instrument. His eyes are closed, but he doesn’t need to see. His hands remember the notes, they remember the way to pull the music forth. Seeing him get lost in the music sets a wild and wicked energy through Sheryl that makes her also start dancing across the stage fog swirling around them all.

Mathew’s jaw hangs open in surprise at Arkadius, but he quickly recovers, seeing his tiefling friend riff off in a way he has never seen or heard before. Not wanting to be outdone, he also starts playing just as hard on his lute, head casually banging to the beat.

The audience, which had been accustomed to softer ballads and more heartfelt lilting music, are taken aback. The music cascading down from the fog laden stage is loud, but full of daring and determination. They don’t quite understand why, but as they listen to Sheryl singing, Mathew backing her up on vocals and attempting his own daring and harsh cords on his lyre, Ariadkus all the while forgetting his dislike of music, the audience is swept away by the new sounds.

        Remember all too well
        My time of living hell
        The night my enemy would conquer
        But now I've been set free
        Lived through the tragedy
        You'll wish you'd killed me, now I'm stronger!

        I am the golden one
        Who burns just like the sun
        Next time we meet is your disaster
        I’ll bring the punishment
        Your song will be lament
        Revenge, my happy ever after!

As the song builds and crashes down, and as Sheryl dances and sings across the stage, swirling fog up and flashing lights with bits of magic, the crowd is enthralled, constantly on the edge of being ready to get up and fight, but the music holds them back, just on the precipice. Sheryl, Mathew and Arkadius are giving their all to the song, so lost in the music, in the cathartic release as together they build up to the final verse.

        Feel like I'm finally unbroken
        Oh, now I'm back from the dead
        Strength back, confidence growing
        Out of my way
        ’Cause I’m armed and ready (armed and ready)
        Ready (armed and ready)
        I’m ready (armed and ready)
        Ready! Ready! Ready! (armed and ready)

---

Mathew, Arkadius and Sheryl sit around one of the small tables, a bottle of feywine and a bottle of fire whiskey being shared between the three of them. The high of their performance is still buzzing through their veins as they clink glasses together in a toast.

“That was absolutely the best performance I have ever been a part of!” Sheryl looks at Arkadius. “And you were amazing Arkadius! The way you played the lyre was just magical!”

“I loved it too. See Arkadius you even outdone me. But our lovely lady Sheryl had us there both for a moment.”

Sheryl looks at Mathew, a mock affronted look on her face. “Whatever do you mean good sir?”

Matthew winks saying, “Means I should go a bit harder maybe even a bit more sober next time.”

“Oh you want there to be a next time, hmm?” she gives him a playful smile. Arkadius looks on and is unsure if his friend is flirting with Mathew or just being mischievous.

“Do you two want some privacy, or are we good?” Arkadius says sarcastically, giggling to himself for a moment, his usual cocky attitude having returned in force. “Hey, there being a next time would be good, actually. Now that I’m… a little more confident.”

Sheryl gives a lingering look to Mathew but turns her full attention to Arkadius after a moment. “I’m glad you’re onboard for this threesome Arkadius.” She tries not to smirk as she continues. “I get the feeling this is going to be quite the thing if we do it right.”

“This is something that I am definitely with. Just one performance helped me make more sense of my Inner Song. A great threesome we shall be,” Mathew says, ending with a chuckle.

Arkadius’ six-fingered hand meets his forehead with another sigh. “If we do this, we aren’t calling ourselves a threesome. That’s just… no.”

Sheryl’s bursts out in a tinkling laughter, tears in her eyes at Arkadius’ face. “Agreed Arkadius. The naming of things is important. How about… the Planes of Existence?”

Arkadius nods. “It could work. Almost like a nod to the places where we came from.”

“And where we are going,” says Mathew, raising a glass of fire whiskey. “To the Planes of Existence, the best band in Kantas.”

Sheryl raises her glass of feywine. “And one day, all the realms.”

The two bards look to Arkadius waiting. He nods, raising his glass of whiskey. “Here’s to the fire we have burning within us.”

The three clink their glass and drink long and deep, the beginnings of yet another new and exciting venture starting in the Dawn Lands.