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How long has it been since the rain started? About three days or so? She couldn’t remember, nor did she care. Having no place called home to return to, she could only hide within the narrow alley of the two local inns. Hiding behind a barrel and under the protection of the roof, it was where she remained still; only leaving occasionally to collect the pouring rain, her only source of clean water required to survive. She could barely think straight. Her body was shivering, her arms and legs were numb, and her vision was blurry. She vaguely remembered moments where she would kneel down and prayed to whatever god was out there; begging them to simply “free her”, before blacking out into a restless slumber.
The hours past. A flock of crows could be heard cawing and the flapping noise of their wings stormed the sky, causing the lonely girl to reluctantly open her leaden eyes. Perhaps the rain had past, she wondered. She then slowly rose from her resting spot, dragging her sluggish body down the alleyway while gripping her shivering body. She gripped on the wooden corner of one of the inns. She stepped out of the alley, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight before finally adjusting her visions. She opened her eyes to finally see the bright azure skies that greeted her after the rain. This was it. The long rain had finally passed; marking the end of the spring season and into the summertime.
The raven-haired girl walked down the wet and muddy path; barely keeping her brittle body together. Wearing only a thin, grey robe that merely stretched until her knees, the humid air affected her the most compared to the other residents. Arms and limbs shivered uncontrollably due to both hunger and the cold. Each step she took became heavier and heavier, unknown to her surroundings. The people of the city had more pressing matters than being concern about the well-being of an insignificant hermit such as herself. Merchants cared about attending their stalls while selling their wares to the demands of the customers, meanwhile the smithers and the carvers had their eyes locked on completing their crafts. The girl was completely invisible to the world. She could collapse at any moment and no one would even notice.
The more the girl walked, the more her vision blurred. She was quite that she was still conscious, yet her ability to see have failed her; a temporary blindness. Her sense of direction had diminished and her grip on reality deteriorated. The next thing she knew, a passer-by nudged her frail self, causing her to fall head first into a puddle of mud. Her seemingly lifeless body remained there, lying to waste as the people simply walked pass her. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to curse the heavens if there ever was to begin. She tried to weep, but she didn’t even have the energy to lift a voice. She simply cried out a soundless scream, forever unheard…
… Or maybe not.
A soft melody could be heard from the distance. The sound of it was similar to a lyre. Though the young girl had heard a few street performances, she never heard one played in such a way as that. As if receiving a breath of new air, the girl picked herself up and brushed off the excess mud from her hair and robe. Without thinking twice, she dragged her limping body in a much, much faster speed, to find the source of that melody. She didn’t understand why, but there’s a desire to keep listening to that music and hearing it until the end.
The melody became louder and louder, meaning that the girl was close. After walking quite the distance for her fragile body to handle, she found herself in the town square. There, she could see a small crowd of people gathering in front of the white chapel. The melody was clearer than it ever was. She rushed towards the crowd, pushing and grunting to get to the front. She had to know about the one who was playing those tunes. Once she was at the front, the song became apparent.
A mellow tune comprised of a set of resounding notes that kept on rewinding. It was composed in such a way that no matter how many times it repeats itself, it never become stale. Instead, the more it was played, the more mesmerizing it became. It was alluring, almost hypnotic, but not in a sinister way. The feeling when hearing this was like listening to a lullaby sang by a loving mother in a cold winter night. It gave you warmth and comfort just by listening to it. You won’t even know how many loops had passed because you were too captivated by it, knowing that you can find peace in it. Maybe this was the answer to her prayers.
Her memories of her past had become obscure over time, but she could never forget the face of the nameless bard that seemingly “saved” her life that day. Long turquoise hair that reached down to her waist and a pair of eyes that were akin to jade. The bard wore a navy-blue garb and a beret that matched her clothing. The bard danced ever so gleeful while her hands strummed the lyre’s notes without fail. Her mouth recited a poem that the girl never heard before, but at the same time, very familiar to her. Her azure eyes couldn’t keep up with the bard’s movement. She was stunned, yet relieved by this feeling of freedom emitted by the bard. Tears began to flow from her eyes. The girl felt like she had forgotten all those lonely and miserable days she’d been through and just listen to this… Song, for as long as her mortality permits.
Before long, the bard finished her performance, leaving the tearful mess of a girl standing there. The bard walked towards the girl and offered her a piece of handkerchief in an attempt to calm her down.
“Here… Use this.” said the bard in a soft manner. The girl began to snap back to reality and started panicking when she realized that her tears were overflowing.
“T-thank you…” the girl answered as she took the handkerchief and began wiping her tears.
“It’s alright, dear.” the bard smiled, “Mind telling me your name?”
“Ichika… Hoshino.”
“Ichika… Fu-fu~ That’s a lovely name.” The bard took a step back before turning around and offered her hand to the girl. “Say, Ichika, will you sing with me; this nameless poem?”