The Awakening of Lark
Squee pulled his covered closer, up tight around his neck. The writhed and bit in this bed, enjoying the cozy warmth of his blankets. His chambers were human height, but he had built a floor in the middle...making two zwergish sized chambers stacked upon each other. Artifacts and keepsakes littered his double-decker chamber...evidence of his many adventures and death-defying acts in the name of himself...and Eldermont.
The Astral Plane had taken some getting used to. Luckily, the piece of the world that had come with them, had brought many of the comforts from home. They could make fire...and the Githzerai had shared how dangerous this was in the rest of the Astral Plane. Squee smiled. The Githzerai looked so similar to their destructive cousins, the Githyanki, but had turned out to be more than helpful. Food could be cooked traditionally in confines of Eldermont. There was water, and the fish of the bay seemed to be somehow replentishing themselves more quickly than natural reproduction could account for. Squee furrowed his brow. Perhaps the fish knew something didn't about getting back and forth to the World of Kempin?
A musical note sounded in the lower level of Squee's chamber. A single crisp clear note from a stringed instrument. Squee sat up in his bed, bringing to mind a song he could sing to cast a spell. He listened closely. No footsteps. Not even breathing could be heard. And then another note...and another. A song formed, and it was unlike anything Squee had ever heard before. There was a longing in the music. A purity...and sense of innocence. The structure of the tune was altogether alien to Squee, and though he knew a 1,000 songs, he had never heard this one.
"Nice song, intruder. What ill will do you seek with me?" Squee readied himself to defend his chambers and his life from a fiend...or perhaps one of the stranger void vampires he had been told about.
The voice that responded was high and clear. "Um...is someone there?"
Squee was surprised the intruder was playing dumb. "Is someone there? These are my chambers! How dare you!"
The voice took on a sheepish tone. "I had no idea. I was suddenly here...and felt like playing a tune might be the right thing to do."
Squee pulled a long wicked dagger from where he stowed it near his bed, and leapt from the top level to the bottom level of his chambers with a quick bound. A song of magic on his lips, he braced himself for the battle to come.
The chamber was empty! His desk was scattered with papers, covered with scribbled musical notes. His books were all in place on the shelves. The nicknacks all seemed undisturbed. And his lute, sat leaning in the chair had had set it in when he had climbed up to bed. "Show yourself, intruder! I'll show you what's what! Playing a tune, indeed!"
A dischordent note sounded from his lute, though no visible being was in the room, or anywhere near it. The pure young voice sounded off in Squee's head. "Eeeek! I mean no harm...I'm but a simple lute!"
Squee set his dagger on his desk and approached his instrument. "What manner or witchcraft or nefarious dealings is this?"
The high voice sounded again, "I'm a lute...I'm guessing I'm your lute. And I've awakened."
-------------------------------
Squee sat in his chair, holding his adventure-worn lute in his hands. "Awakened? I don't understand."
The lute answered in his mind, in that high pure voice. "I don't understand either...I'm as new to all this as you."
Squee strummed a few notes, and his lute sound sounded as good as ever. "Well, lute, this is both amazingly cool...and more than disturbing."
The high voice in his head again, "Lark."
Squee looked closer at his lute, so familiar to him, but now so strange and different. "Lark? Lark what?"
"Oh...just Lark. I think that would be a nice name to have, if you don't mind. I much prefer Lark to just being called lute."
Squee started to answer, and then just sat back. A few minutes later he answered. "Well, Lark, I'd rather this new new name and independent status doesn't mess up what was a perfectly good relationship before."
Lark laughed in his mind. "Play me a tune...one that uses the best of my sound...the best of my tone and tenor."
And Squee played then, for just he and Lark...long into the night.
