Difference between revisions of "The Great Bard Returns!"

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(Created page with "By: Sylvance Posted on: April 29, 2012 <center> <u>'''The Great Bard Returns!<br>'''</u> (an historical fiction, by Sylvance DeFleur)<br></center> Strange, that I, even I...")
 
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I watched on as Ralph wooed Lord Scarlatti with His own esoteric musics, and I quietly took my place within the then-new Bards Guild. For a time, all was peace and art. Freshlings flocked to our halls in droves; no celebratory party was complete without a Bardic presence and a closing Chorale to lift the spirits; no hunting party left Cyrene without an Anthem ringing true and the unsurpassed threat of the Funeral Mass to deter Cain and Proficy. Yes, all was peace and art.
I watched on as Ralph wooed Lord Scarlatti with His own esoteric musics, and I quietly took my place within the then-new Bards Guild. For a time, all was peace and art. Freshlings flocked to our halls in droves; no celebratory party was complete without a Bardic presence and a closing Chorale to lift the spirits; no hunting party left Cyrene without an Anthem ringing true and the unsurpassed threat of the Funeral Mass to deter Cain and Proficy. Yes, all was peace and art.
   
   
And then ''She'' came.
And then ''She'' came.
   
   
Love and Beauty? Rather, name Her the Goddess of Falsehood and Infatuation. Like a rabbit hypnotised by the scintillating rhythms of a snake, Scarlatti fell head-over-heels for Lady Selene. I shall make no complaint as to the effect on His work; what sonnets and sextants and dances and ditties did He weave for Her! Pieces and songs and plays that made us cheer and weep until our hearts might have burst.  And His searing inspiration was contagious. We wrote our fingers cramped, sung ourselves hoarse and danced holes in the floor of the Academie of Fine Arts. It was a good time for us, but as with a delectable wine with a sour after taste, this was to be no lasting joy.
Love and Beauty? Rather, name Her the Goddess of Falsehood and Infatuation. Like a rabbit hypnotised by the scintillating rhythms of a snake, Scarlatti fell head-over-heels for Lady Selene. I shall make no complaint as to the effect on His work; what sonnets and sextants and dances and ditties did He weave for Her! Pieces and songs and plays that made us cheer and weep until our hearts might have burst.  And His searing inspiration was contagious. We wrote our fingers cramped, sung ourselves hoarse and danced holes in the floor of the Academie of Fine Arts. It was a good time for us, but as with a delectable wine with a sour after taste, this was to be no lasting joy.
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Selene's priests say that She could not have all Her love focused on any one person. Perhaps I believe them. Maybe I do not. But tell me this, neighbour, could the Goddess not have foreseen this transpiring? I will not accept that She did not. Rather, She chose love over judgment, and we would all soon pay the price. For, truly, what choice did Scarlatti have, ensorcelled as He was by Her, but to turn His glorious back on us and depart Achaea?
Selene's priests say that She could not have all Her love focused on any one person. Perhaps I believe them. Maybe I do not. But tell me this, neighbour, could the Goddess not have foreseen this transpiring? I will not accept that She did not. Rather, She chose love over judgment, and we would all soon pay the price. For, truly, what choice did Scarlatti have, ensorcelled as He was by Her, but to turn His glorious back on us and depart Achaea?
   
   
And so, leave us He did.
And so, leave us He did.
   
   
We were struck low by His absence, a rudderless ship in storm-swept seas, and I watched from the shadows as the Guild stumbled from one folly to the next. At one point the leadership managed to lock horns with Cyrene so uncouthly that the City threatened to smash down the doors of our Guildhall and remove all of our totems, before casting us out one and all. Do I blame the Guild for behaving so churlishly? No, I blame Selene for taking our Leader.
We were struck low by His absence, a rudderless ship in storm-swept seas, and I watched from the shadows as the Guild stumbled from one folly to the next. At one point the leadership managed to lock horns with Cyrene so uncouthly that the City threatened to smash down the doors of our Guildhall and remove all of our totems, before casting us out one and all. Do I blame the Guild for behaving so churlishly? No, I blame Selene for taking our Leader.
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