Solemn Songs (Part 1)

Chapter 1 : Melody's Close

The bards of the village of Ruden were famed, not because of their voices, but because the village of singing people prophesized with their songs, but often, their prophecies were vague, and so interested in singing were they, that they opened a school of musicians, opened with their majestic coffers filled by kings and queens of many lands, far and wide across the region of Pacem.

One night however, a great fire burnt through the Shrine of Canticum, its fire ravaged and burned, through the Hall of Tributes, its wooden walls quickly succumbing to the fiery blaze, and as all of Ruden mustered to put out the fire.

The blaze raged into the Cathedral of Canticum, and the fire burnt, up the pillars made of great oak, and its flames licking the statue of Canticum, Goddess of Song, and many a villager would tell you, that it took a great while before the fires engulfed the statue, and the cloth draped on her burnt, and the villagers despaired.

The Shrine of Canticum had stood there in the village for time unknown, and Ruhen was once known as the Empire of Ruhen, though the history of that Empire had been lost, save the Shrine itself, said to be constructed with the very hands of those who had founded the Empire.

All in the village sung for its loss, and many a song would sound like this.

Canticum, fair Goddess and Protector! By your blessings of old , our villager has prospered.
Our lands green, our lakes blue and calm!
The breeze across Ruhen sing with pride!
For Canticum! Our Goddess and Protector, by her blessings of old, our villager has prospered.
Yet, when night set in, the filthy God of Ignis, where Sivatag he forever resides and curse, jealous of your fair realm,
Tore down the Shrine of our worship.
Now, forever, men of Ruhens will not forget the day,
when our lutes will be replaced with swords,
our voice replaced with cries of blood,
to avenge Canticum, our fair Goddess and Protector!
And restore the gift of song through Pacem.

The songs cried of war, to smash down the Altar of Ignis, deep within the realm of Sivatag, where many say that the land contained great amounts of sand, and nothing can be grown there. They say that Ignis, with his evil and foreboding sorcery of the Heavens, had cursed the sun in the area, where the heat scorch the sand you walk.

Then, songs of old had foretold of Ignis’s cruelty. In those great lands of sand they said, as you cry for water, for rain, Ignis shut out the Goddess of Viz, who yearns to shower the gift of water on the barren lands, and save their people from thirst, and for plants to sprout, so the land can be as history of old, as lush and green with the rumoured land of Zold, where they said waterfalls fall from a great height, and trees align rivers, and the people wore clothes of green, and their people, skin fair and their eyes dreamy, but wise nonetheless.

Some said that the land had passed into history, but the songs that the Elders of the village proved otherwise.

Zold! Land of the old! Behold the magic of the green that Canticum would shiver!
Beyond the seas, where storm churns and rain screams.
Behold, travellers! This is Viz’s regime! Goddess of Water, fair and pure.
Where the seas warn when her nightmares fall.
Her blade of lightning, you can gaze from afar.
Zold, behold! Behind Viz, would be paradise eternal!

The Bard School, became the new meeting place of the Elders for the village of Ruhen. For the Shrine had fallen to Ignis’s wrath, and the affairs of Ruhen must go on, for the village has many political affiliations, and they have to be dealt with.

However, one night in the month of Placida, the first month of the year, the first baby to be born in Ruhen since the fire, would shock the village.

“It is the right hour for the melody of Birth!” The midwife said excitedly, and the boy’s parents beamed.

The child of Ruhen would hum along to songs sung to them shortly after birth, and it was said that those who hum in rhythm with the song would become successful people. This practice had gone on for generations. The babies of Ruhen had always been able to sing since birth. A gift from Canticum they say.

“Let us begin?” The midwife said, and the parents smiled.

Embark on your elders’ talent! From birth, thy has been blessed.
The ever-rising Sun be the force of your life.
Canticum be the melody of your very soul.
Melody is thy’s blessing.
From your entrance to the world, may Donum, God of Blessing, lead you into light.
All hail Canticum, you are our fair lady.
With your blessing we will drink and we’ll sing.
Forever more, till Zold beholds.

The child did not sing, and the elders proclaimed him cursed by Ignis, and ordered his parents to keep him at home. However, following children did not have the blessed voice as well. Some children could sing, but not as well as their parents and the elders of the village, and nor could they prophesize.

The elders panicked, and they mediated in day, and slept in night, hoping for an answer to come to them, where their songs would then inform of this disaster.

To the east, lies Reverentia, great walls of stones, and famed for their great accuracy with the bow, be it on land, where the bards of Ruhen sang of the brilliance of their rulers, and the great ambition of King Aurum upon the throne of Reverentia.

Of the lineage of old, King Aurum upon the throne!
Pillars of gold, Oh! In the city of old! Empire of Reverentia!
Generals unmatched, and their great bows of yew feared by the wise and evil.
Behold! Ambitions of the old! Empire of Reverentia!
Greed has undone many. Many empires of old!
Of the lineage of old, King Aurum upon the throne!
Caution! Man’s fall of the old!
Cities of gold will never be known!
Only when the people’s hearts are told,
will cities be gold!
Of the lineage of old, King Aurum upon the throne!
Caution! For all that glitters is not gold!

To the west of Ruhen was Judicium. It was not a mighty empire like Reverentia. It had its own army, but the Kingdom of Judicium minded their own business, and the old ailing king, King Modus presides over the Kingdom’s affairs.

Their army was not particularly remarkable, but still more than able to crush Ruhen in one mighty stroke, with or without siege weapons, for the men and women of Ruhen are bards, and their fortunes come from singing songs of fortune and old prophecies, not from strength of arms. The people of Ruhen are prosperous, so there is no need to steal. Ruhen has not even a militia, therefore any aggressor will take this village in a matter of hours, if not, minutes.

In the following month of Lacrimis, the Elders counselled.

“The two kingdoms must not know of the youths of our village.” Elder Agandaur said, his eyes gazing at the fire that danced in the centre of their meeting, his hand upon his walking stick, which was engraved with a carving of the Goddess Canticum.

“Nor must the Bard School accept new students other than Ruhens. For outsiders will know something is amiss.” Elder Recanter sighed, shaking his head in a mix of embarrassment and disappointment.

“I agree. Nor should we allow the children to perform for the Two Kingdoms. Our next decree should be that our children must not go beyond the boundaries of the towers of Canticum.” Elder Tobius nodded, rubbing his forehead.

The Elder counsel was made of three of the oldest and wisest men in the village. Agandaur was the treasurer of the village. He could tell you from the back of his hand, the exact amount of money available in Ruhen, the cost of this building or that.

Recanter was the head of the Bard School, where he teaches the men and women of Ruhen to use the blessing of Canticum to prophesize and how to make their voice worthy of a villager of Ruhen. Judicium called the voices of Ruhen, divine. Reverentia called it heavenly. Recanter was the one to make sure of it.

Tobius was the diplomatic Elder. He dealt with emissaries from kingdoms, be it Reverentia or Judicium, or even remote villagers deep in the mountains south which no one had ventured because of their monstrous heights.

“Not only that... We should decree that only the adults of our village are allowed to perform. Not even our youths who still have the gift should risk it.” Recanter said, sighing and the other two nodded.

However, the three did like to meddle in each other’s affairs or judiciary once in a while. Good for the mind, they said.

“How is the reconstruction of the Shrine of Canticum, Agandaur?” Tobius asked, frowning, his wrinkles bundling up together, as he gripped his lute, and Agandaur looked back at him, tightening his grip on his walking stick before sighing.

“Nay! It is not going well! It is not about the money, Recanter. I know what you are thinking.” Agandaur spat into the fire, and Recanter shook his head ruefully.

“You are mistaken, my dear Agandaur. But you two already know what is going on. Why our children are like this. I think we all know. The housewives whisper at night, and the men discuss it over ale. Must we really ignore the topic, my dear Tobius and Agandaur?” Recanter said, and the other two looked down into the fire.

“The statue of Canticum... It vanished.” Agandaur said, looking away from the fire.

“Vanished? What do you mean by that, Agandaur? We all saw it. We all did. It was taken by the fire. But can’t you make do with what you got? Whatever that is left of the statue of our Goddess?” Recanter said, and Tobius was gazing intently at Agandaur.

“Yes, we did see it engulfed by the foul weapon of Ignis, curse him. But it is what happened after that no one know about.” Agandaur said, placing his walking stick on his lap.

“What did happen after, Agandaur.” Tobius said quietly, and Agandaur looked at him for a moment before continuing.

“Alexia and Truyip were helping me to move the burnt statue out of the Cathedral lest it collapses and destroys it. Then, as we moved the statue out, it started to... To... It’s not burn... There were no flames... But it was giving off smokes... And fumes that choked us... So we stared at it.” Agandaur said, shuddering, as if he smelt those fumes once more.”

“Fumes...” Tobias said quietly.

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Chapter 2: The Song of Paradise

“What happened next, Agandaur?” Recanter urged, getting visibly irritated by the minute.

“The statue just... Disappeared?” Agandaur said, shaking his head.

Suddenly Tobius seized, and he pointed feebly at his lute, and experienced elders them, Recanter ran to the town bell and tolled it, rousing men and women to them, and Agandaur passed his lute to Tobius.

“Hear ye! Sons of Ruhen! Blessed by Canticum, Goddess of Song! Listen to your elder! Tobius the Old!” Recanter shouted to the skies, and his clear voice projected across the village.

“It is beginning!” Agandaur said, helping Tobius up, whose hands were on his lute. Tobius started singing, his voice loud and powerful. Deep, and rousing.

Childs of Ruhen! Hearken to me!
Luna, Goddess of the Moon and Tide, speaks to you!

Everyone present gasped, Luna was the Goddess of the Moon and she controls the sea near the coasts, for Viz, the Goddess of Water, has a huge burden, as legend has it that only the paradise of Zold upon which no one has laid eyes upon and Pacem were the only places where men could live upon, and Luna, was known for her kindness, and offered to help Viz.

The moon shines forever bright, songs of the Heavens sound forevermore!
Yet, down on Gaia, mother of all beings, the singing voice dims.
Canticum’s blessings fade.
Journey now, to Zold, and reclaim what was rightfully yours!
Secrets of old!
Let the story of Canticum be untold!
Fear only those with reason!
Fear not those who are mighty,
for power wears out those who do not deserve it!

Tobius’s hands playing his lute suddenly stopped, and he staggered back, held up by Agandaur.

“To Zold... And reclaim... What was rightfully yours...” Tobius gasped, and fell back, his eyes closed.

“He has fainted! Chiurgeon!” Agandaur cried out, and a man ran to them, shoving through the crowd, and pulled up Tobius’s eyelid.

“Get me the Spirits of hartshorn! And a feather!” The Chiurgeon shouted, and the alchemist raised his hand, and opened up the rucksack of his and rummaged through it.

“Spirits of hartshorn. One bottle.” The experienced alchemist, Hart said, pulling out a flask of colourless liquid.

“On the count of three... One... Two...” The men grunted and heaved Tobius till he was near the fire.

“Give me a feather of a crow!” The Chiurgeon said, and the alchemist handed him a black feather and a pair of tongs.

“Command thinking, Hart. Very good.” The Chiurgeon said, and Hart laughed. Hart was Ruhen’s only alchemist, and he was the youngest to reach this post in the village’s known history. Primarily because his teacher, Kayla the High Alchemist, went missing six years ago, and he took her spot, but nay, the boy was not without talent even at just an age of four less than two decades. He knew how to charm the ladies in the village, and agree with the men and gain their favour.

The Chiurgeon clamped the flask of spirit of hartshorn and as its fumes slowly started to fill the air around it, the Chiurgeon fanned it towards Tobius who started coughing and sat up, wheezing.

“What terrible stench is that!” He coughed, and the Chiurgeon handed the clamped flask back to Hart.

“Hartshorn spirit, sire!” Hart bowed and Tobius nodded, dismissing him and the Chiurgeon.

“Next time, Chiurgeon, I’d rather a bucket of water.” Tobius growled and grabbed Hart’s shoulder as he stood up.

“Luna has spoken...” Agandaur muttered and Recanter was already writing in his book furiously, not even realising that he was writing in red ink, his quill darting up and down the page.

“Heavens forbid. Luna wants us to go to Zold and reclaim what is ours?” A man shouted from the crowd, a mixture of excitement and bewilderment.

“That is the decree of Luna!” One cried out and a woman shrieked-
“We listen only to the words of Canticum! Not anyone else! Kinsman! Hearken to me! Where is our protector, Canticum?” Ferrum the Bold said, grim faced, and the disgraced guard of the Shrine of Canticum. He stood out from the villagers of Ruhen, for he was much taller, heavier built, and carried a great blade of steel on his back, not to mention a steel flute at his side.

“Shut yer foul mouth, Ferrum! It was your fault that we got into this mess in the first place!” Ignavus the Cunning barked at him, and Ferrum grunted, and the village started to split into two factions.

“A coward if I ever saw one!” Ferrum roared at Ignavus who leered.

“One who uses his brawn and not his brains often suffer the consequences. Just like how the Shrine of our fair Goddess was razed to the ground.” Ignavus said mockingly and Ferrum’s eyes glowed.

“Says the one who was flirting with two ladies at the Canticum pond.” Nychole said, a youth from the Bard School, and Ferrum roared his approval at the young lady, who looked in disgust at Ignavus.

“Silence!” Recanter said, raising his hand, and the quarrel and bickering ceased.

“Go back to your homes! And do not speak of this matter to any foreign people! Back to bed!” Agandaur stood beside Recanter and said loudly, his voice sounding through the clear night skies.

“And it is decreed! That the Bard School will not accepting! Any! New students! And children of Ruhen s forbidden to go beyond the Towers of Canticum! Nor is anyone in the village allowed to discuss affairs of Ruhen with any outsiders!” Tobius announced hastily and the Elders quickly retreated into the Bard School where they now reside.

“Well, you heard the Elders! Back to bed!” Nychole took the lead and started walking back to the school and after a while, the lateness of the hour became apparent.

“I have my eyes on you, filthy slime.” Ferrum muttered as he watch Ignavus go home, his head held high, his musical instrument nowhere in sight, unlike a true Ruhen who would guard a lute or drum more than his or her own life.

Ferrum headed back to his cottage, which was on a hill, some way up the Hill of Songs, where Ruhen celebrated the Canticum festival annually, but it had an eagle’s view of the Shrine of Canticum.

As much as Ruhen was a peaceful village, the Bard School and Shrine of Canticum were built to withstand a siege. The Shrine of Canticum had trenches several metres wide, filled with water and the only way to enter it was via the draw bridge, which would have been pulled up in the event of an attack. The walls of the Shrine of Canticum was a lost art. Some say that the founding King of the Empire of Ruhen had it built with materials from a faraway land, but no weapon even in the great army of Reverentia could make a dent in it.

Ferrum knew that the Shrine of Canticum was impregnable, and anyone scaling the walls would have been spotted by him and his hunting bow, or by the villagers gallivanting in the night.

No man had razed the Shrine, but of course, no one in the town would buy it. Be it God, Goddess, demon, demon mistress, Ferrum wanted revenge, for he had failed a duty, and honour forbade failure.

As many fell into deep slumber even Ferrum himself, one man was losing his sleep. It was Elder Recanter.

“The people of Ruhen, may be able to deceive the two kingdoms till the last of those who have the blessings of Canticum and what then? The only reason that those two have not turned this village into rubble is for fear of disturbing the gift.” Recanter said, his voice rebounding from the brick walls in the relative comfort of his study.

“Of course, we can assume its temporary...” Recanter said, albeit in a more different voice, and he nodded, and walked over to the window.

“Nay, one must never assume a good scenario. What if it is permanent until we obey what Luna decreed or even, requested?” He said, hitting his fist against the window ledge and crying out in pain.

“Oof! Be sane you bumbling fool! That... Well... Is a possibility... ” He said, sounding hesitant.

“Of course, I’m right!” Recanter said, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

“Yes... Yes... But who would brave this journey? In fact, ha! Would they even return, my dear Recanter!” He said going into a laughing fit before slapping himself in the face.

“True, Recanter. I know Ferrum will go on the trip willingly. He... Needs to compensate the village... Who else...”

“Someone eager! Some yearning for that! That... Inch of glory!” Recanter said dramatically, stretching his hand out, and then he rolled his eyes.

“Yes... Yes... Yes... Very well thought, Recanter! You’re a genius!” Recanter said, smacking himself on the forehead and putting one leg on the window ledge, like an explorer staring triumphantly from a ship to a distant land that he had been seeking.

“Tarry not too long to send our gallant knights from Ruhen out, my dear Recanter!” He said, throwing himself onto the great wooden bed, and closing his eyes.

“Forever more, we seek Zold.” Recanter sighed, and he drifted into sleep, humming the lullaby that had once been known as Song of Luna.

Luna! Goddess of Moon!
For whom the stars shine!
Luna! Goddess of tide!
Whom keeps enemies nor foul beasts from our coasts at night!
Sleep soundly forever more child!
For Luna watches over you at night!


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Hello all! Thank you for reading! This is actually a longer story still at work, but I'm just publishing it slowly to get a feel of the ground here on writing.com and to see if anyone has a way to improve my writing ^_^

My dream has always been to write a novel, or a short story, for that fact. It may not have to be successful, and be like J.K Rowling, but even the sight of my novel in a solid copy would make my life a great success already.

I approached a publisher and had a reality check, as Singapore where I live in has a tiny reading base.

I mean, sure, my plot may not be the most fantastic one ever, outdoing Tolkien's Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit, nor will my characters be as intriguing as Hannibal Lecter in the book Silence of the Lambs, but as I write, I pour my very... What would be a suitable term to use? Not heart and soul, as I am not dating my book, so... Yes, just soul. What I want to find in a book, I write. The book is perfect to me. That's all that matters.

I may not have the perfect vocabulary to fling into a story, but even if I do, I will not. Why? Because if I were a reader, and needed a dictionary to get by even one page of the story, I won't even bother continuing, even if it did had an amazing plot, fantastic character outlines, primarily because I would be too annoyed to.

Sure, a lot of things can be copied, or exaggerated to the point where a typical high school romance becomes something like all out war, and fantasy stretched to the point where it is even difficult to believe. I won't do that. I want to be original.

I guess I will start uploading parts of the story, Solemn Songs onto this site soon! Hope you enjoy it!