"In the beginning of the cosmos, from a long time ago, there existed many beings called celestials — powerful entities of unknown composition. They inhabited the heavens and when they slept, stars would awaken. And–"

  "That's not how you tell the story, father". "Stick to the original, please?". A cheeky child begging his way to get what he wants.

  "But this is the original, my boy. The singing part is my own version; do you like it better that way?". A weary father trying to spend the night time with his son.

  "Yes father. The singing makes it better. It makes me sleep better."

  That memory was from ten years ago. The only thing remaining in this world are memories. The bad, the good, as long as they are remembered, they don't disappear.

  Barding was never a high paying profession, the family knew that much. But the passion for music was a higher calling, more than any coin could offer. Through the years, music has become a core part of their roots. From the forefathers to their sons and their son's sons thereafter. It has become a second nature. The Boch family is full of colorful notes carried by the family's latest chord player — Viernes.

  Since the early years of the civilization age, this family has always been there in the annals of history. From the small town of Grandeus, the Boch family prospered. For the most part, Viernes is traveling from one town to another to make ends meet. A musician's life is much different from normal people.

  "Where are you off to now?" asks Heidi as she carries her basket of fresh potatoes.

  "Gidosprel. The son of a lord is celebrating his 33rd birthday, he needs a lot, I mean a lot of musicians for his party. Might be a good payday this time." answers Viernes, his voice carrying a sulky undertone.

  This has been a common occurrence in his daily life. Travel somewhere, perform, go home, then repeat. Repetition. That's how their kind master instruments, and that's how they live. Repetition. The only deviation from this routine, are the moments of clarity in between destinations. Was this the life set before him, before his father, persisting even now? If it is, then it's pretty mundane.

  What is the end goal for his path, fame, wealth, prestige?

  The lord's celebration was a success with a little bit of inconvenience. Everyone performed well, the guests were satisfied, as well as the celebrity of the occasion but there was a commotion in the middle of one of the performances but it was resolved.

  The trip home was silent. Viernes was pondering his future.

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  "Under the sky, anything is possible. Why can't I see myself doing anything else? It's such a stupid saying. The one who made that had everything he wanted in life that's for sure." he mutters to himself.

  Viernes' caravan arrived in Grandeus at dawn. It was cold, like that night. The chill of the wind reminded him of a painful memory. He entered his chambers like he does every day.

  "I'm glad to be home." "I'm glad t—, I'm home." he stammers a little as he lies down on the warm floor. "What now? What else."

  Warm light of the sun greets the Evergreen, waking the sleeping Wilders out of their nests. “Morning brings hope to those who've slept and woe to those who do not— the will of Solarus blesses those who are righteous and smites those who are not.” The Liwan Creed— a short prayer-like verse that the members of the Solarus faith recite after they wake up.

  "You know what, I think I'll leave." echoed the voice of one of Viernes’ band members.

  "Fine then. Leave for all I care. We don't need you anyway." said another band member whose face was so red it looked like a tomato.

  "Let's all calm down now, no need to raise voices, it's early." eased the band leader - Jayce in an effort to stop the war of words.

  Waking up to this ruckus sure is a welcome change. Viernes' band mates are arguing. This may be because of the disagreement in the splitting of wages — an irregular occurrence.

  "I play the percussion. I should get ten silver coins, not six." said the tomato-faced band member.

  "How about me, I have to carry this gigantic bass, I should get more than you." inserted the lanky band member who had no business playing a gigantic instrument.

  "Nobody asked you to play that instrument in the first place." said Jayce with a slight grin almost bursting into laughter.

  "Viernes is on the guitar, why's he getting ten?" exclaimed the lanky bass player towards Viernes’ who was approaching, still yawning.

  Their pointless bickering falls on deaf ears. For a person with a keen sense of hearing, Viernes sure seems good at ignoring voices. To end the ceaseless noise, he decided on something.

  "You can have my coins. I'm leaving the band." as Viernes inserts his response among the noises of his band mates. "I think it's time for me to quit, I don't feel like playing for some time, maybe forever."

  Without a moment for pause, they looked at Viernes dead in the eyes and smiled ear to ear.

  "Good. More coins for us then."

  "You sure man? Gee thanks!"

  Amongst the rest who couldn't care for his resignation, Jayce the band leader noticed something off with his friend but couldn't say anything of it. "Well, I hope you find what's for you. Take care man, keep in touch, tell me if you need anything." says Jayce with a concerned expression.

  Viernes just nods, then walks back inside his chambers.

  Throughout the eerie ambience of the gloom, only the wind dared break the silence. Quiet the night may be, but the inner voice of Viernes shouts loud inside his ears. It keeps ringing without ceasing. One word over and over again — go. Go? Where? Go? When? Questions upon question.

  Fearing he might go mad, Viernes decided to play his guitar. This seemed to calm him down. Playing no particular arrangement or song, he just let his fingers move on its own.

  "I love music. Always have and always will." "But music is not all of me, I know it." He talks to himself as if it's a discussion with peers.

  "I refuse to believe that my life has little to offer me. I just don't know what it is yet."

  Now lost talking to himself, his hands continued to play those strings unknowingly. Until a familiar arrangement of chords caught his attention. He tried to recreate it to no avail. Defeated, Viernes forgot about it and continued his self-talk until it happened again. Now it piqued his interest. It sounded familiar, like something from long ago, it invokes the feeling of nostalgia as well as dread. It was there it occurred to him.

  "The Somber Melody." he spoke to himself softly as if in a whisper.

  "That's it, I know what I must do."