"Discord" by Emma Melville
Emma's done a great job developing Nikos, former member of the shadowy Bards' Guild and a close friend of Aetos, King of Thila. Here's a peak at "Discord," a story which delves into Nikos's history:
“Nikos!” The man who confronted him was a singer of exceptional skill. He’d been one of Nikos’s teachers, a master of harmony and resonance. His voice rang through the hall, carrying its rich timbre to every corner.
Nikos relaxed his firm clasp on the harp and tried a smile. “Master Karos, how good to see you again.” He was ignored.
Karos resolutely fixed his gaze on a point two inches to the left of Nikos’s head in a most disconcerting manner. “Welcome,” he said, his voice lacking any warmth or sincerity. “Do come with me.”
The tall singer strode off across the marble floor without a backward glance. Nikos briefly considered staying where he was or even leaving, but it wasn’t every day a bard was summoned – however rudely – to the guild. Failure to respond to such a summons was simply unacceptable.
With a heavy heart, he hurried to catch Karos and fell into step beside him.
“I wondered why-”
“You’ll be told.” Karos still refused to look straight at him.
“You’re obviously not happy about it,” Nikos said. “Can’t you tell me something?”
“No.”
They walked a few steps further. Nikos hoped there would be more, but Karos continued in silence.
“How about if I leave now?” Nikos suggested.
Karos finally look him in the eye. “Don’t be an idiot, Nikos. You’re right; I don’t like this one bit, but we’re saving the guild, so...“ He turned away and walked on.
“Saving the guild?”
“Enough. You’ll be told. Through here.” He led the way into the testing chamber at the back of the Great Hall.
Nikos remembered the room from his very first visit. Here was where all musicians were judged by their skills. The small chamber was perfectly round, its acoustics faultless. The floor tiles with their central circle of pale green were occupied by a single chair, placed in the very center. Here the applicant would sit to play while those assessing could view him from every angle.
Two guild members stood in the room today. They turned to face the door as Karos pushed it open. Nikos recognized both of them. Thera had tutored him on the harp and assured Nikos on graduation that his playing would one day surpass even her’s. It had been the greatest compliment he had ever received. Today, like Karos, she couldn’t meet his gaze. The third bard, standing perfectly still and watching Nikos with hard eyes, was the head of the guild. Gylmyn Mor was as grim faced as ever, forbidding lines etched in each side of his long, thin nose. Karos stepped away from Nikos and joined his colleagues, indicating as he did that Nikos should take the chair.
Judgment-the word ran circles round Nikos’s head. This was a place of judgment, of testing. But he was already a member of the guild, and he knew he had done nothing wrong.
Such a thought made the cold room, with its silent judges, even worse. “I’m a Thilan,” he thought. “It must be that. I’m going to pay for Pileaus’s failures.”
“We have heard the paths of the future,” Gylmyn announced, disregarding all introductory courtesies. “They are strident with discord, and the tunes of some we love will be silenced forever.”
Nikos blinked in surprise. This was nothing like he’d expected.
“It is clear,” Gylmyn continued, glancing at his companions who stood either side of him. “Is it not?”
“Clear,” Karos agreed, staring again at the wall beyond Nikos.
“It saddens me that it is so,” Thera said.
“It is clear,” Gylmyn repeated, “that all disharmony to the guild spreads from your tune in the world.”
“Nikos!” The man who confronted him was a singer of exceptional skill. He’d been one of Nikos’s teachers, a master of harmony and resonance. His voice rang through the hall, carrying its rich timbre to every corner.
Nikos relaxed his firm clasp on the harp and tried a smile. “Master Karos, how good to see you again.” He was ignored.
Karos resolutely fixed his gaze on a point two inches to the left of Nikos’s head in a most disconcerting manner. “Welcome,” he said, his voice lacking any warmth or sincerity. “Do come with me.”
The tall singer strode off across the marble floor without a backward glance. Nikos briefly considered staying where he was or even leaving, but it wasn’t every day a bard was summoned – however rudely – to the guild. Failure to respond to such a summons was simply unacceptable.
With a heavy heart, he hurried to catch Karos and fell into step beside him.
“I wondered why-”
“You’ll be told.” Karos still refused to look straight at him.
“You’re obviously not happy about it,” Nikos said. “Can’t you tell me something?”
“No.”
They walked a few steps further. Nikos hoped there would be more, but Karos continued in silence.
“How about if I leave now?” Nikos suggested.
Karos finally look him in the eye. “Don’t be an idiot, Nikos. You’re right; I don’t like this one bit, but we’re saving the guild, so...“ He turned away and walked on.
“Saving the guild?”
“Enough. You’ll be told. Through here.” He led the way into the testing chamber at the back of the Great Hall.
Nikos remembered the room from his very first visit. Here was where all musicians were judged by their skills. The small chamber was perfectly round, its acoustics faultless. The floor tiles with their central circle of pale green were occupied by a single chair, placed in the very center. Here the applicant would sit to play while those assessing could view him from every angle.
Two guild members stood in the room today. They turned to face the door as Karos pushed it open. Nikos recognized both of them. Thera had tutored him on the harp and assured Nikos on graduation that his playing would one day surpass even her’s. It had been the greatest compliment he had ever received. Today, like Karos, she couldn’t meet his gaze. The third bard, standing perfectly still and watching Nikos with hard eyes, was the head of the guild. Gylmyn Mor was as grim faced as ever, forbidding lines etched in each side of his long, thin nose. Karos stepped away from Nikos and joined his colleagues, indicating as he did that Nikos should take the chair.
Judgment-the word ran circles round Nikos’s head. This was a place of judgment, of testing. But he was already a member of the guild, and he knew he had done nothing wrong.
Such a thought made the cold room, with its silent judges, even worse. “I’m a Thilan,” he thought. “It must be that. I’m going to pay for Pileaus’s failures.”
“We have heard the paths of the future,” Gylmyn announced, disregarding all introductory courtesies. “They are strident with discord, and the tunes of some we love will be silenced forever.”
Nikos blinked in surprise. This was nothing like he’d expected.
“It is clear,” Gylmyn continued, glancing at his companions who stood either side of him. “Is it not?”
“Clear,” Karos agreed, staring again at the wall beyond Nikos.
“It saddens me that it is so,” Thera said.
“It is clear,” Gylmyn repeated, “that all disharmony to the guild spreads from your tune in the world.”
Labels: short stories, writers
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