Chapter 179: 179. Mandolin and Ringchord

“Gloria,” Dallion said for the fifth time. “It’s fine. You don’t have to.”

The objection was promptly ignored as the girl continued examining the musical instruments. After her outstanding victory in the plaza—and after the gathered people had dispersed, getting back to their daily chores—it had turned out that Hagel didn’t really have the money to pay her bet. Rather, she didn’t have it in gold. As such a compromise was offered—Gloria could choose any instrument within reason from the goth’s family music shop.

Despite Dallion’s objections, the offer was quickly accepted by Veil and Gloria, who dragged him to the shop to choose the musical instrument he’d play with. No amount of logic seemed to help. The two were set on him picking something, or they would do it for him.

“What about this?” Gloria asked.

“It’s a mandolin.”

“I know that. What do you think about it?”

“It’s very…” Dallion spent a few moments trying to search for the appropriate word. Ultimately, he failed. “Mandoliny.”

Just ask for a ringchord, the armadil shield suggested. You can’t go wrong there.

“What the heck is a ringchord?” Dallion whispered.

One of the modern instruments. It was all the rage back at the time. I had a few, all gifts, mind you, but never found the time to learn to play them properly.

Something told Dallion that it was more than a lack of time that kept him from learning. Even so, he was curious what a ringchord was. Given how objects were named in this world, there was a basic understanding that there would be rings and chords involved, though what else remained unknown.

“Did you say a ringchord?” the owner of the shop asked. As Dallion had come to know, the old man was Hagel’s grandfather—and also an awakened—who had retired from guild activities years ago and now enjoyed the calm of “dealing with people” all day long.

Looking at him, one could guess where Hagel got her fashion sense. The man was just as pale, with enough tattoos on him that he could pass as a living tapestry.

“Do you have any?” Dallion just asked, masking the fact that he knew nothing of the instrument.

“Haven’t heard anyone ask for one since I was a child.” The old man stroke his thin beard. “What do you know? Some of Hehe’s friends actually have an actual appreciation of music and don’t just jump about to it all day.”

“Grandpa!” Hagel said. Embarrassment emanated from her like a beacon.

Ah, grandparents, Dallion thought. Another constant in the universe. No matter the circumstances, they always had the superpower to embarrass their grandkids.

“I’m only saying that it would be nice if you bring someone proper for once. Is that wrong?” the old man continued making the situation worse. “You’re so focused on the theatre that you skip out on everything else. By the time you come to your senses all the good ones will be taken.”

Mumbling to himself, the man went to the backroom. While he was gone, an awkward silence filled the room with everyone pretending to be examining one musical instrument or other. All but Veil, who seemed to enjoy having a laugh at this. A short while later, the old man returned with a small wooden box.

“Please.” He handed it to Dallion.

Feeling a tingle of excitement, Dallion opened the box, revealing a set of thin metal strings and oddly shaped rings. There was no clear indication of how they had to be worn or even used. The one thing that was interesting, was that the effort that had gone into crafting them was considerable. The rings weren’t made through a mould, rather they were forged the standard way. Dallion could see over a hundred folds on them using his forging skills.

“Dwarf made,” the shopkeeper said. “Seven strings, with the option to be increased to nine. Tuned to perfection.”

“Hmm.” Dallion nodded, pretending he understood what the old man was talking about.

Nil, I’ll need some help here.

While I have many areas of expertise, exotic dwarven music instruments isn’t one of them.

Harp, please ask the shield to help me out.

Gently, Dallion took out one of the rings. The design was such that they could be fastened and loosened to match several finger sizes. Some of the rings had grooves and spots to have the end of the strings attached, while others were more like guitar slides.

Wow, I didn’t think they’d actually have this, the dryad said. Don’t worry, I’m here to assist. We’ll go with the basic form. Take the three normal looking rings and place them all on your left middle finger.

Dallion picked up one of the rings.

Be sure to string them first. It would be embarrassing otherwise.

With a mental grunt, Dallion placed the end of the string to each of the rings, then put them on. That done, he attached the other end of the strings to three more rings of a similar shape.

That’s it. Now put those on your index, middle, and ring fingers. That’s what makes the heart of the instrument.

I should have taken the mandolin, Dallion grumbled.

Now, put a few of the thicker rings on your pinkies and thumbs, and you’re done.

As Dallion did,  everyone watched him in amazement. Even Veil nodded, impressed at the intricacies.

“It’s rare for someone your age to know how to use a ringchord,” the shopkeeper noted. “Where did you learn to do it?”

“I just read about them,” Dallion toned down the lie. “Never have played one to be honest.”

Uttering those words proved to be a mistake. Emotions lit up, ranging from expectation to disbelief. Several of the people believed that he had experience with the instruments but was resorting to false modesty. The rest were wondering how well he would do, and were willing to forgive some small errors.

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Last time I take friends about the city, Dallion thought and started playing

The experience was weird—a mix between playing cat’s cradle and doing a guitar solo. The strings and rings were well crafted, letting out a unique, slightly metallic sound. After getting a grasp of things, Dallion went for a full chord. The result was almost competent, making him go for another attempt. That one was better, though not to the level he would have liked.

“I’m really not good at this,” Dallion said, taking the rings off. “I think I’ll go with a mandolin.”

“You know best,” the shopkeeper sighed. “I’d say you have promise, but there’s no point in doing something unless your heart’s in it.”

“How much does it cost?” Gloria asked all of a sudden.

“Cost.” The old man rubbed his beard again. “It’s absolutely priceless. Which is to say it has no price. Musicians aren’t interested. It takes to be an awakened to play it, but since this model isn’t made of special metals, no one will buy it.” There was a short pause. “They’re still a good set of rings, though, so I’d say five.”

“Would that and a mandolin cover the debt?” Gloiria asked. She was still determined to get the instrument.

“What about this?” Veil asked, holding a pan flute. “He won’t be able to sing, but it’s—” a single glance from his sister made him reconsider and place the flute back from where he took it.

“That one’s good.” Hagel pointed at one placed near the ceiling of the shop. “For that price.”

“That and the ringchord… hmmm.” The old man kept stroking his beard. Everyone could tell he wanted to haggle, but at the same time, since there was no buying in the direct sense of the word, the whole thing seemed somewhat awkward. “I guess it’s alright. Provided that you visit now and again. If things don’t work out between you to, maybe you could put some sense in Hehe here.”

It took an advanced set of skills to make everyone somewhat uncomfortable with a few sentences, but the old man had done just that. Without a word, Hagel took the mandolin and handed it to Gloria. On her end Gloria accepted with a nod, then taking it and the box of rings, left the shop.

“Well, congrats.” Veil slammed his arm on Dallion’s shoulder. “You get to sing in half an hour.” Then left as well.

“Thanks,” Dallion said before he, too, headed to the exit.

“I hope it brings you luck.” The old man smiled. “Everyone could use more of that.”

With evening approaching, the plaza was starting to get more crowded. People were starting to treat it more as a destination than a place leading to other parts of the city. The oily “manager” was still there, picking up his attempts to recruit Gloria in the theatre business. The girl still refused, although she agreed to take his contact token. From what Dallion had learned, they were the local equivalent of business cards that had a pager inside. The token contained an echo of the awakened who could constantly keep others up to date as to the original’s whereabouts. Once that transaction was done, the trio went back to the Gremlin’s Timepiece.

Word of a pair of pure blond awakened working at the inn has already spread. If Dallion thought his first few days had brought in a crowd, he hadn’t seen anything yet. Hannah was happy with the turnout, and naturally she insisted on Veil taking the first shift. That left Gloria free and Dallion sentenced to a chair in the far corner of the room from where he was to play his newly acquired mandolin.

“Can I at least go to my room for a bit?” Dallion asked.

“Ten minutes,” Hannah said. “Then you start.”

“Fine. See you in ten minutes.” Dallion rushed up.

The first thing he did upon arriving was to put the ringchord box at the bed stand. The second was to enter his awakening realm.

PERSONAL AWAKENING

 

His surroundings changed, taking him back to the familiar room. Upon arriving, Dallion quickly went to the part of the realm that was linked to the harpsisword. Looking into the distance, the sea was as soothing as ever. This time, the nymph wasn’t on the top of her tower, but at the lowest level, expecting him.

“Hey.” Dallion approached. After surviving the Star encounter, he had gone to see the guardian almost as much as he had Nil. Every now and again he’d do so asking for advice or to discuss things that he didn’t want Nil to hear. “I need some help again.”

The nymph nodded.

“I’m thinking of asking Veil and Gloria to help me out with my guild job. Do you think it’s a good idea?”

The guardian looked at him.

“Their arrival is too convenient. I don’t want to get paranoid, but I don’t want this to end up being another of the Star’s games. For all I know the village might be all gone and under his control.”

That was a stretch, although, sadly, it couldn’t be discounted. Unless Dallion returned to Dherma, he could never be sure. On the other hand, maybe that was the entire point? The Star didn’t want him in Nerosal for some reason, so there always was the danger that something might happen on the way back.

“Am I overthinking this?”

The nymph nodded.

“So, what would be your advice?”

Turning back towards the sea, the nymph reached forward. A tendril of water emerged, making its way to her hand, where it transformed into a sword. The guardian then handed it to Dallion.

“Be vigilant,” he said, looking at the weapon. Good advice. Moments later the weapon transformed back to water splashing over Dallion and on the floor. His immediate reaction was to take a step back, but the nymph grabbed hold of his shoulder so he couldn’t. “Be vigilant, but be mindful of the consequences,” he added after a while.

The Guardian let him go.

“Thanks.”

Despite the coincidence they remained his friends, and if Dallion were to stop treating them as such, they might change as well.

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