Dual Wielding

136. Sing Me a Song You've Heard Before


Wyn double checked, then triple checked. He hummed along with the song, and watched as the city flowed with it as well. Throughout the winding streets draped in greenery, crowds stepped together, and voices occasionally harmonized with the song for a moment before drifting apart into separate melodies. It wasn't as perfect as he'd first thought—some people definitely seemed more in sync than others, and in many places it was so subtle he thought he might actually just be finding patterns where none existed—but it was definitely there.

"A song of Liresil?" Corrin muttered, working through the bard's words himself. "But we can't all hear it?" His eyes lit up with understanding. "Wyn is it—?"

"It is," Wyn confirmed, nodding. "They're definitely hearing the spirit song, or at least feeling it."

Kei raised an eyebrow. "You've said that before and I let it slide, but what the hells is a spirit song?"

Wyn glanced her way. Oh right, they'd never actually explained it to her. It wasn't a large part of his blessing as far as he was concerned, so it never usually came up. It was just… an oddity, really. Though he was beginning to doubt that assumption.

"It's something I hear as a result of my blessing," he explained. "I'm honestly not exactly sure what it is, though I've never really thought about it."

"You mean you've heard it before?" Bruno asked curiously. "Now that is strange. I've never heard of such a thing. Even my sister took a week to hear the song, and from what I understand, most take months. They say it's a blessing you receive after spending enough time in the city, but if you could hear it even before…"

"Then it's not," Wyn finished. "But even if people can hear it, why would that result in us 'swaying'? It's not like I'm going to start dancing just because I hear music."

Bruno tapped his chin. "I've given it some thought myself. I don't think it's as simple as hearing the song and swaying—though that's certainly part of it. Have you ever noticed that if you are speaking with someone and they smile, you are likely to smile as well?"

"I guess so," Corrin said thoughtfully.

"If you pay close attention, oftentimes you'll find people who match posture as well. And even outside of this city, if you are having a conversation whilst walking with someone, you'll often synchronize your strides, especially if you happen to be holding hands," he winked at Kei, who blushed again. "I think this is a similar phenomenon, just on a much larger scale."

"So you're saying you don't think I would 'sway' outside of Liresil?" Wyn asked.

"I couldn't confirm it," Bruno shrugged. "From my understanding, the song does not linger once you leave the city. You're the first I've spoken to that can hear it outside. You must be quite an interesting person indeed."

The bard fixed Wyn with a studying look, a faint smile on his lips.

Wyn shook his head. "Not particularly. I hope to be one someday, but for now I'm just the son of a baker, and a measly bronze rank adventurer."

Bruno laughed at that, long and loud. "Is that so? Somehow, I don't believe you. But if you insist, I'll play along for now. In any case, I would be interested in getting to know you better. I fancy myself something of a storyteller you see, and I've found that accruing experience is the key. Meeting interesting people, trying new things, feeling new emotions—these are the essence of creating song and story both."

"I can get behind that sort of thing," Corrin nodded. "But song and story, is that right? Do you write your own or tell the classics?"

"I dabble in both, though as for what I have planned tonight…I'm afraid you'll have to show up in order to find out!" Bruno winked. "And with that said, I should likely be going now, so I'm afraid I must cut this conversation short. If I'm much later, my dear sister will have my head. We're playing on the emerald stage tonight at sunset, if you ask around you should be able to find it without difficulty. It was lovely meeting you all—especially you, Miss Hayashi—I do hope to see the three of you in the crowd."

"We'll be there," Corrin assured him. "Save us a good seat."

He took a step and then turned to look back. "Oh yes, I should say. I would be happy to continue this conversation after the show. If you stick around, I'll send for you. Of course, you needn't accept, but I would appreciate it if you would." His eyes gleamed. "All I ask is that you share with me one of the stories I have no doubt you possess."

He waltzed off after that, leaving the three of them alone once more.

"I like him," Corrin said. "But what a weird guy."

Wyn eyed his friend. "You're not very normal yourself, you know that?"

Corrin laughed smugly. "You're damned right."

***

And so, a few hours later, they found themselves at one of the largest amphitheatres Corrin had seen in the city. Unlike many of the others, its stepped-slopes were kept in pristine condition, its limestone steps cleaned to a smooth off-white shade.

They'd arrived a bit early, and yet the cavea was already filling up with people, the crowd buzzing with excitement for the show ahead. Corrin was a bit surprised to see how popular Bruno really was—a part of him had thought he might be all bluster—but the growing audience seemed to indicate there was good reason behind his confidence.

A young woman came by where the two of them were sitting, holding a tray of chocolate covered berries and nuts, of which Corrin happily took a small bowl in return for a couple copper pieces.

"So what are we thinking is the plan for tomorrow?" he asked Wyn as he tossed a few into his mouth.

"Good question," Wyn said thoughtfully. "Frankly I hadn't given enough thought to tracking down the great spirit in question. Iillia didn't give me any real clues in that regard, but I'm not sure how much she knows about the happenings of this city anyways. Still, I'd assume there must be some sort of reliable way if she wanted me to come here. I'm thinking there's a place I have to go, or something of the sort."

Corrin snapped his fingers. "Like the pond in the spirit glades."

"Exactly. Some sort of place of significance."

"The best bet would be to find a shrine then, right?" Kei asked. "Surely they'd know of the most spiritually significant places in the city?"

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"I was thinking the same thing," Wyn hummed. I didn't see any on our way here, but I'm positive there's some around. Eia's been trying to find out as well, but other than the existence of a great river spirit, she hasn't had much luck. The tree itself is so radiant it makes finding a great spirit amidst its branches harder."

"Not to get off topic, but there's a great river spirit around here?" Corrin asked.

"Apparently so," Wyn shrugged. "No idea what it does, but it's in the river somewhere."

"Huh." Corrin scratched his chin. "Here's a thought—who runs this place? Does Liresil have a king or something? Maybe they'd know?"

"That's not a bad idea… I wouldn't know who though."

"If I remember right, Liresil has an elected council called the Ecclesia," Kei answered. "I'm not entirely sure how it all works, but they're voted in by the citizenry and then gather to vote on issues and run the city."

"Think they'd actually know anything?" Wyn asked.

Kei shrugged. "No clue. But it's another place to look if a priest can't give us a better answer."

Before the conversation could continue, a voice rang out over the amphitheatre from the stage, and the crowd grew hushed.

"Welcome all, good people of Liresil!"

Bruno spread his arms wide as he greeted the audience from the front of the stage. He was dressed in an interesting ensemble, brightly colored loose garments, with thread dangling from the ends of each limb.

Corrin thought of himself as fairly fashionable, but even he was thrown off by the strange garb.

"Once again, we, the Virellian twins, are honored to perform before you tonight!"

Corrin chuckled at the speech as Bruno continued, but a moment later his breath died in his throat.

He hadn't seen her at first—Bruno had caught his eye with his loud voice and outfit, but as Corrin's eyes drifted, he caught sight of the girl patiently towards the back of the stage, waiting for the show to begin. Long silver hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing a delicate face and amethyst eyes that seemed to sparkle in the soft light of the paper lanterns at the edge of the stage.

It wasn't love at first sight—Corrin wasn't so easy to bewitch—but it wasn't lust either. She had a beauty like a sunset, or a glimmering lake hidden in the mountains.

He whispered under his breath. "Wyn do you—"

"Yeah."

"Even I see her," Kei muttered, catching on quickly.

Bruno continued talking though, and Corrin slowly came back to his senses. As he traced the eyes of other audience members though, he could tell they weren't the only ones.

"For our first song tonight, I present to you, The Tale of Vanyr the Forsaken!"

Corrin frowned, it was a common story, one he'd heard a hundred times growing up, one of the chief legends of Vanyr, The Blade King. While it had been a favorite in his youth, repetition had dulled its impact. The slow strumming of the strings as the bard told of Vanyr's solitary trek through the desert of Setsah—now Khadat—was meant to be hypnotic, like the illusory temptations described in the story, but it lacked excitement.

The sound of Bruno's lute rang out sharply across the crowd, a few quick notes to catch the ear, and Corrin once more found his attention drawn. He heard a rhythmic clap, only to realize that Aria had begun to clap from the back of the stage, her hands blurring as Bruno strummed another set of aggressive, fast notes. Then, Bruno spoke.

"I speak the tale, of blood-soaked sand

I speak of betrayal, of greed-choked man

I speak of keen-eyed Vanyr, who had plundered the riches of Retem's vaults

I speak of lion-hearted Vanyr, who wandered beneath the scorching sun of Setsah

Of the men who had returned. Only Vanyr

Still yearned for home. He now found fury in him…"

Corrin leaned in as Bruno told the familiar story, yet twisted it into something else entirely. Vanyr's lone, spiritual journey returning home, beset by heat and enemies alike, had become a quest for revenge against his allies who had betrayed him. The beats were the same—tempted by the desert's illusions, defeating the spirit of a sandstorm, tricking a djinn—but the portrayal was completely different. The accompanying song changed drastically throughout, sometimes fast and energetic, with Bruno's fingers flying along the neck of the lute, and other times slow and mournful, his sister taking over the melody with her lyre.

Finally, when they arrived at the portion of the story where Vanyr received a sword from a mysterious woman living within an oasis, and Bruno's sister, who'd only provided accompaniment thus far, spoke her first lines. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say she sang them, as there was a melodic lift to her voice. For the third time that night, Corrin's breath was taken away.

Her voice was clear and musical, like a mountain stream. From the first utterance, she had the audience spellbound, and as she sang, song spirits rippled into view above her, dozens of them.

Wyn half-rose out of his seat, eyes wide as it happened, but he managed to restrain himself a moment later, sinking back onto the steps.

Whether it was an hour later, or two, Corrin couldn't have guessed, but soon the performance finished, and he found himself on his feet with the rest of the audience, cheering as the twins bowed to them, Bruno's face tight with exhaustion and pride in equal measure, while his sister seemed still serene.

Not much of a performer my ass, Corrin thought back to the bard's words in their earlier conversation. He had claimed his sister was a generational talent, and Corrin had no choice but to concede that he was right. However, it was clear to him that Bruno wasn't without skills of his own. His voice wasn't special, nor were his looks any more than plain, but he still managed to stand out, forcing his way into your vision rather than being naturally gazed upon. Corrin could respect that, just as much as he could appreciate his sister's divine voice.

As the twins bowed once more and walked off-stage, Corrin excitedly chattered with Wyn and Kei about the show. There seemed to be a bit of a disconnect though, with all three of them being interested in different things, and thus Corrin's enthusiastic love of the music was hampered just a tad.

Still, Wyn had been just as obsessed with stories of the five kings when he was younger, and Kei had similarly grown up hearing them on repeat, so they were all able to chime in, and had all greatly enjoyed it.

Just as they were about to leave, a fourth voice, faintly musical, whispered from amidst them.

"If you'd like to continue our conversation, follow this spirit and let it lead the way."

Corrin and Kei jumped at its sudden intrusion, looking around to try and find the source of the voice—which was unmistakable. As if coming out of invisible mist, suddenly there was a single song spirit amidst them, a ribbon of luminescence undulating in a wave-pattern.

"Kings!" Kei exclaimed, placing a hand against her chest as she slowly caught her breath.

Wyn's brow furrowed, he seemed the least spooked, though he'd still flinched when it appeared. "Did that song spirit just talk?"

It began to drift up the steps, out of the amphitheatre.

"It sounded like Bruno's sister," Corrin said. "Is that what he meant when he said he'd send for us?"

Wyn frowned. "Did you notice the spirits gathering when she sang?"

"Must be some sort of blessing right?" Corrin watched the spirit drift away. "Can she control them or something?"

"I'm not sure," Wyn muttered, thinking for several long moments. "Though I guess this would make me think so."

"Maybe she's like you?"

Wyn's eyes widened a bit at the possibility. "Follow the spirit huh? Any objections?"

"None here," Corrin shook his head.

"I'd love to meet his sister," Kei said. "That performance was incredible! Besides, they might even be able to help us with the search now that we've got some ideas. They seem quite popular, so it couldn't hurt to see if they have any strings they can pull."

"I suppose not," Wyn nodded. "Let's do it."

The spirit continued on, and the three of them followed close behind.

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