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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #2006873
I was born singing, but the gift had only caused me pain and loneliness, until...
The Miracle Bard Of Triem

By Kenword

I was born singing. In fact that is what the name Marsden means. “You came into the world my Marsden, singing your wee heart out,” my mother has said to me time and again. “And so we all called you Marsden.”

On my sixth birthday I was amusing my friends and mother in our front yard when the Queen walked by. “That boy must have been born singing” Lady Victoria said. She heard me sing the Robin Song. My playmates scattered when they heard the Queen's voice. “That boy must be added to my court.”

“The children were just making up a game,” my mother said, bowing before the Queen of Triem. “They meant no harm, your Majesty.”

“No harm? Well of course there is no harm you silly woman. 'Red Red Robin come a bob bob bobbin' along'. No harm indeed. If he is your boy then have him to my Royal Court at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. You will be happy you did. He is enchanted you know?” The Queen twirled her hand in the air to inform the neighborhood that the impromptu audience with her was over. Her escort slipped behind her and she was gone.

I would occasionally see my neighborhood and mother after that. But as I grew older the time between visits increased. Mother in time seemed so depressed that it was hard to make our visits pleasant. “I don't want you to sing to me any more my Marsden,” she said to me on my fifteenth birthday. “You enchant others, but I regret every day that you were born with such a gift. You are my son, but I've lost you forever.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “You mustn't come back here again. I don't want to see or hear you anymore.” She ran away from me. Staring at the path before me, my hands shoved deep in my pockets I walked back to the Queen's court with the sound of mother's sobs consuming my mind, heart and soul.

Because of that day, I honestly could not see how it was such a gift. I had been snatched from my family to be a singer among many singers in the Royal Court of Triem. I redeemed my lonely times by studying magic with several of the Royal Court's wizards. And while I was the only soloist the Queen Victoria wanted to hear, I really was nothing special. Granted, it was the only time of the day that she would smile with her eyes, as her face brightened to a warm golden rose color. At the first notes of my lyrical tunes, every muscle in her face relaxed. Then she would stare at me as if looking to see if a storm were coming. There would have been a storm too, except I hid the torrents of pain deep inside. No tears. No smiles or joy. There was no emotion for Lady Victoria to see in my face. Yet it did not sadden her to observe my condition.

Two weeks after my birthday, I had just finished singing for the queen when a creature with translucent body and wings suddenly materialized before Lady Victoria. The startled guards rushed towards the hovering being of light, their arrows trained on what appeared to be a winged fairy the size of a teenaged girl with long honey colored hair and green eyes.

“Gillian!” Lady Victoria said, motioning for the guards to lower their weapons, “For pity sake girl, you want to be shot?”

“O, Your Majesty,” cried Gillian, dropping in a heap at Lady Victoria's feet. Her shoulders shook with great sobs. Each of her tears created a pool of deep sorrow somewhere in my soul. It was like her grief was my grief. I could not take my eyes off of her.

“Merciful Mercy child,” Lady Victoria said, “you exasperate me so with your dramatic drivel. What is it this time? Has your staff rebelled against you again?”

“Oh it is so much worse than that your majesty,” Gillian cried. “My fawn Goldie is very ill and the wizard says she is going to die.”

The Queen nodded revealing no emotion, “Well my dear, if the wizard says Goldie is going to die, I don't know why you have come to me. You should spend as much time with your fawn as you can. Triem's wizards seldom make mistakes about such things as life and death.”

I narrowed my eyes and glared hard at Lady Victoria until our eyes met. Could she know that there was a storm rising in me? She raised her hand and pointed to the distressed fairy still sobbing at her feet. “Marsden, you wish to intercede for this friend of my court? You may go with her to the fawn's sick bed. But don't be long. I feel a sadness of my own coming on.”

I had never been near to anyone so beautiful and sweet as Gillian. A song swirled in me to respond to her sorrow, pain and desires. I wanted my loneliness to be her loneliness. My new found joy of being with her, to be her joy. Though I was still a boy and she was several lifetimes older than me, I knew the magic that could make me her perfect match. She would be my fairy for ever. I was so wrapped into the spell I was inventing that would make me her fairy prince, I forgot the fawn and my mission directed by my Queen.

In a desolate field, half way between the Queen's court and the Serene Forest where Goldie was to be found, Gillian turned on me with a vicious slap to my face. “You are a wicked little boy,” she cried. “I know what you are thinking all bug eyed. Beetle eyed bug. You want to enslave me with your tricks, not even caring about my Goldie's fate. You are like all selfish punky punks your age and if you were not the Queen's pet I would shrink you to the size of the beetle you are.”

My cheek burned where a red welt was forming. That Gillian new my thoughts caught me by surprise. That she misinterpreted my intentions made me want to defend myself. But her tantrum and threats brought me to face the truth of the mission ahead. I was defenseless. My only merit was in my song. My only value was in the stream of lyrics that flooded my voice, which, inspired by the kingdoms of life far beyond my comprehension, began to lift like gale winds whipping the tops of the trees.

“Oooooo, My Sweet Love, being of light of gold,” I sung out dropping to my knees before Gillian. Facing the forest, I lifted my arms to the sun gilded clouds above us.

“I was born singing and singing makes me bold,
To bare the grief within your heart
My song has healing to impart
Break forth new life new stories to unfold!

Thunder rolled across the dry plain and the earth shook. I sensed Gillian take flight and saw her form dance like a shadow within one of the clouds. I heard the steps and shouts of the members of the court behind me. I raised my voice and sang the verse again. The clouds separated and a rainbow arched over the woods. Bears, badgers, foxes, rabbits and deer, with their little ones, came and lay down before me. Gillian led her fawn into the middle of the congregation of animals and smiled at me as I continued to sing. Water from the sky drenched the parched land around us though none of us seemed to be wet.

“Look!,” a voice cried out. It was Lady Victoria, standing next to me, her hand pressed hard into my shoulder. “Its a miracle!”

Before our eyes the desolate wasteland burst forth with every manner of green plant. Sun flowers shot up eight feet and bloomed instantly. Fields of corn, near the woods, grew in just a few moments; ears fluffy with silk appeared ready for harvest.

The sound of people cheering and shouting in my ears was deafening. I could not believe my eyes and ears and had nothing left to say or sing. I smiled at Gillian who cuddled with her fawn. Her eyes filled with tears, I saw her delicate lips form the words “thank you,” though I would have never heard her above the commotion of all of the people and animals around us.

Several days later, installed in my new home in the shadow of Lady Victoria's Royal Court, my mother served tea and cookies to Gillian and her fawn while I happily worked out a tune on my four stringed lute. My front parlor's windows looked out over the now flourishing fields of Triem and I still could not believe I had been promoted from a court chorus boy to the Grand Wizard of Triem. It was just a simple song, sung by a simple bard. My new songs would be filled with the contentment I now knew would last forever.

Gillian laughed as my mother picked up the Triem News Herald from yesterday for the hundredth time and cleared her voice with a loud “Ahem”. We gave her our rapt attention.

“Young Wizard Performs Amazing Miracle!”

“Victoria, Queen of Triem, announced yesterday that a new grand wizard had been discovered. Lady Victoria was effusive in her praise of Marsden, his mother and family. She declared a national holiday in honor of Triem's new Wizard. All she could say about the moment that Marsden's gift was discovered was:

Everything that had happened was shockingly beautiful, enough to make you crazy.

Word Count = 1625
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