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Man is a substance clad in shadows...

And poetry the art which substantiates him.

Created on 2008-11-13 20:15:12 (#17159386), last updated 2008-11-18

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1 Journal Entry, 2 Tags, 0 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 12 Userpics

Basic Info

Name:	The Shadow Bard
Birthdate:	10-31
Location:	(states/regions/territories)

Bio

Introduction

TBA

Backstory: The Two Bards

"A creature of night followed him, seeming to melt out of the shadows that flitted in the hall, flowing like smoke to form and stand before the dais. With hair of obsidian and eyes of onyx, he seemed to soak in the brightness of his fellows, his grey cloak a stark contrast to theirs. He carried no instrument, but when he spoke, his words filled the room and slid through the people in it, and Keelia knew he was a bard, and had no need of any other instrument. Beside her, Aislinn caught her breath, and a glance at her showed that she looked surprised for a moment before a perfect mask of polite interest fell again.

His was a lyrical exposition of darkness, of loss, of grief and despair, but somehow a thread of hope ran through it, and his lips, scarlet and the only color about him, smiled a secret sort of smile as he brushed his words over grace and through redemption and finally settled them in an aching pool of completion. Keelia found her eyes wet as he bowed, and though the looks around the room wandered the gamut from confused to scathing to intrigued, her smile rested on him, and he bowed, returning it with a flourish of his cape before he melted back into the shadows from whence he came.

The fifth who stepped forward made Keelia catch her breath. Unlike the others, he was Daoine Sidhe, able to pass for human except for his extraordinary beauty. Dressed all in white, with golden hair that fell straight to his knees and sky blue eyes, he was the epitome of what she had imagined a fairy prince to be. Indeed, he bore an uncanny resemblance to Midir, and she wondered if he might be another son, remembering that Midir, too, had often wandered the courts in the guise of a minstrel. Midir seemed to show no more interest in him than the others, though, his smile merry and approving, but with no special favor in his eyes.

The man bowed, and she noted that like his dark counterpart, he had no harp or lute or lyre. When he spoke, his voice carried, trained and melodic to the farthest reaches of the room. It was light and lilting for all of that, evoking the green of the woods on a summer day, and the quiet of a brook by which lovers met. His words were soft in temperament, but Keelia found herself frowning as he moved through his lyric. The room was colder, and while everyone shone as brightly before, there was a harder edge to it, sharp, cutting, like broken shards of stained glass cast out among the tables that were full of splinters awaiting the unwary touch.

There was light, his light, and he seemed to reflect it all the way around the room, and yet, it was gone at the same time. The shadows were darker, filled with mysterious creatures that waited. The green woods of his voice grew close around her and the babbling brook held a trap for the lovers, and was she the only one who could hear it? He wasn’t talking about her.

She wanted to stand up, accuse him of it, her mind well trained from countless hours of teaching and learning, specializing in critical evaluation of literature, diving under the twisted layers and calling him out in a duel of her own. He wasn't talking about her. Not her triumphant return with her enemies tossed down and trampled underfoot. Not her grace upon the throne. Not her loving husband, children at her feet. Not her rule. Not her, at all, except lying twisted and defeated on the ground. He was not weaving a story of rejoicing, but tossing down a threat and a promise of retribution, with his innocent eyes and his beautifully twisting lips of sensual promise and poison beneath.

Breath coming a bit short, Keelia looked to Midir, wondering if he was uneasy as well, if he heard it underneath, but he was smiling, hearing only the surface, the Princess returned home, and in his eyes she saw that throne, hers, golden and set with jeweled butterflies which struck her suddenly as a macabre choice. Trying to swallow, she looked the other way, to the girl beside her. Aislinn was frowning, one among all of the others who seemed to sense the chill the air had taken on as the bard’s words wound their way up the walls to wait in the rafters, a gryphon protecting its mistress’ home until she came to claim it in her rightful return.

Then it stopped and the air returned and the hall warmed, and applause attempted to sweep away the shadows. In their faces, all of them, Keelia saw support for her, for the words that brushed atop the meaning that lurked underneath. They weren’t scholars of literature, but this bard, and whomever had hired him, had some skill in the matter. She met the man’s eyes, and he smiled. When she did not, his sharpened for a moment, then he spun and bowed to the crowd with a merry grin.

The others shrugged, not showing any disgruntlement as the favor of the court brushed over the bard, and though Keelia’s eyes searched the shadows for the dark one, the one she knew would understand, she couldn’t find him anywhere."

- Excerpt from A Reason to Remember by Bria Ferguson

OOC Information: Communities

mad_muses

sixwordstories

justprompts

Copyright Information: The Shadow Bard is an original character and the character and all content of this journal is owned solely by ladyofbrileith. Any infringement is a violation of the U.S. Copyright Act.

Disclaimer: The Shadow Bard's PB for purposes of RP via LJ is Peter Steele. I am not him, nor is he in any way associated with this journal or character.

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