“Oh yes, I’ve made the trip to the Servinian Wastes. Remarkable land if I may say. What’s that? Why yes, I’ve spoken with the Countess of Calandria. Remarkable woman, full of spirit as they say. Excuse me? Rebellion? No… I really don’t know much about that I’m afraid. Spent most of my time in the castle.”

Derrek pushed his way through the throng, emerging from the crush of bodies to where Alec stood. Aspiring minstrels and bards had gathered about him, listening intently to the stories that sounded far too familiar.

“And what of the sunken treasures of the Jade Turtle? Were you apart of recovering those?”

“Derrek!” Alec cried. He shifted nervously upon his feet, his fake smile wavering. “What-how did you get here? I thought you wouldn’t be competing.”

“And why would you think I wouldn’t?”

“Oh, just, you know. You’re not a real registered member of the College or-“

“And yet here I am.”

“Ah, yes. Here you are.”

It was awkward.

Alec smiled nervously, grabbing Derrek’s arm and pulling him away from the throng of onlookers.

“Perhaps we could spend more time catching up!” he called. Once they were alone beneath an arch, he turned the unimpressed man.

“How are… things?”

“Why are you stealing my stories?” Derrek asked.

“Yes, that. Well, you see, I didn’t know you would be needing them. So I thought I would just… you know, assist myself with your material. Like a testing of it, if you will.”

“And yet, I don’t recall writing any of them down. You came to my room looking for my tales, couldn’t find them but there you stood repeating them nevertheless.”

“Uh. Right. Fancy coincidence that.”

Alec was swallowing quite voraciously. He looked like a fish dangling from the angler’s line.

“You’re not particularly clever,” Derrek said. “Nor is Mikael particularly traitorous. And I’ve dealt with Mairen in the past. She’s not nearly this subtle. Who is behind this?”

“I want to tell you, believe me,” Alec gritted. “But I made a vow of secrecy.”

“Believe you?” Derrek asked. “You were the one that got me barred from the College initially.”

Alec laughed nervously.

“Oh that. It’s so long ago. Water under the bridge and what have you!”

This was getting Derrek nowhere, save confirming his suspicions of some greater puppet master. What he need was a more direct tactic. He need an attitude that would cut through this nonsense. He needed Keirn.

Derrek closed his eyes, feeling the brush of his muse as he began to channel the essence of his friend.

His hand reached quickly for the head of his lute. A few quick flicks of his fingers to unlatch the concealed triggers and he produced a hidden blade, pushing Alec roughly up against the wall while the metal bit at his throat.

“AH! DERREK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

“I don’t have time for this,” Derrek spoke, his voice dropping and turning husky. “Tell me everything you know or I’ll make the last song you a sing a requiem.”

He pushed the blade closer for effect.

“No! PLEASE!”

Derrek flicked the blade, producing the tiniest of scratches against the fat man’s jowls. He howled with the piercing cry of a dying man.

“I won’t ask again,” Derrek growled.

“ok…OK! I’ll tell you!”

Derrek pulled back the blade, looking left and right to insure they hadn’t drawn any unwanted attention.

Alec reached a hand up to his throat, rubbing the fresh cut. As he held his blood flecked fingers to his eyes, he began to swoon on his feet. Derrek grabbed him roughly by his ruffled, styled lapel.

“Look, I never wanted any of this!” Alec said, raising his hands in submission. “I never wanted you expelled. It wasn’t my idea. I was set up to take the fall. I was a patsy!”

“What does that have to do with my drugging and your vandalism?”

“I’m getting there!” Alec said hastily. “You see, they came to me. I didn’t go looking for them. They wanted to see your ambitions reigned in, checked. They didn’t want you to garner the attention of the masters.”

“Who did?”

“I don’t know,” Alec said.

Derrek raised the blade warningly.

“I swear! I never saw them. They communicated with me only through letters.”

“Where? How?”

“Now, or when you were enrolled here?”

“When I was enrolled?”

Alec pointed towards the dormitories.

“I found them on my windowsill when I returned to my room at night. My door was always locked so I don’t know how they were getting there except…”

“Except what?”

“Well, one time I returned from my studies early. I had forgotten my coin purse and couldn’t really afford all the wine for the evening. When I opened my door, I heard a greater flutter and as I rushed to my window I saw the retreating back of a large bird.”

“And these same letters told you to ransack my room last night? How do you know they were from the same person?”

“The writing and paper were all similar. The writing itself was very elegant and flowing but it was the paper that mostly caught my attention. It was dried papyrus. Only, recently it wasn’t a bird delivering them but a cat.”

“A cat? What kind of cat?”

“Well, it was about yay high and…”

Before Alec could explain more a terrific scream filled the air. Both men turned towards the sky to find a large bird swooping down upon them. Immediately, Derrek dropped to the ground but Alec just shouted as the animal descended upon him. The fat man raised his arms to defend himself, but the bird struck with beak and claw, driving him screaming from cover and into the courtyard.

The creature hovered for a second, eyeing Derrek warily. It looked like a common raven but almost three times the size. Derrek tightened his grip on his blade but the bird merely squawked its disapproval before chasing after Carver.

Would-be bards and minstrels shouted in surprise and uselessness as the giant avian fluttered through their midst. Derrek jumped to his feet to give chase. However, the bird ceased its pursuit the moment Alec ran into one of the dormitories, barring the door from inside.

The beast gave one last caw before taking wing and disappearing into the sky.

Derrek approached the door, knocking loudly against the wood.

“Alec! Alec, I know you’re in there.”

“I’m not coming out!”

“The bird is gone!”

“I don’t care!” he screamed. “The moment I come out it will be back for me. No, they know I was about to tell you. I… I won’t cross them. I can’t!”

“You’ll miss the Challenge!” Derrek warned.

“So be it! I can try next year!”

Derrek sighed. That was always his excuse. And so long as Carver kept receiving money from his parents he never had to worry. Derrek sighed, returning to the courtyard. There was nothing left to do but wait for the Challenge to begin.

Despite the interruption of the giant raven, the contestants seemed particularly unshaken by the encounter. Some, in true bardic fashion, had already begun retelling the events to make them more dramatic. Personal flair invariably began to exaggerated the moment to a daring defence against a flock of mighty Rocs by a few brave souls.

Bards made the worst damn eyewitnesses.

However, it did leave the officials in a bit of a fluster and they approached the participants with wary glances to the sky. Three of them came to address the participants, bedecked in bright pantaloons, tunics, ruffles and the most extravagant hats money could buy.

“Very well, you have all been registered for this year’s Challenge,” the administrator called, gathering everyone’s attention mostly to his enormous peacock feathered chapeau. “As you all know, the Bard’s Challenge involves three main tasks. I just want to add that any suggestion we stole the layout from the Wizard’s Challenge are wholly slanderous lies by the wizards and the Academy in an attempt to belittle our process. For one, they don’t have a singing and dancing portion. Which is good for us, because it makes the Wizard’s Challenge mighty boring for others to watch.

“Second, our trivia portion bears no resemblance to their recitations. Once again, the Bard’s Challenge tests its participants on their ability to remember interesting tidbits or knowledge and, forgoing that, fabricating some entertaining lie that at least sounds plausible. The wizards, however, feel some misguided need to repeat arcane theory or mystical history or whatever nonsense generally drives students to fall asleep.

“Finally, while it is true that we both share a magic component to our respective Challenges, you can bet that the Bard’s Challenge shows more ingenuity and excitement. Mostly because we don’t tell you that there is a magic component. Ha! I want to see all those monologues you’ve been studying help you now!

“Above all, we hope that you perspective minstrels maintain to the tenets of the bardic way. Cleverness, wit and unwavering confidence! Very well, no more dillydallying. Would all the would be bards come this way!”

The administrator beckoned for them to follow and trudged off with most of the participants in tow. Only four stood back, watching as the administrator led the majority of them away. Derrek shrugged and turned to see what the other two would say.

Once the last of the participants following the administrator passed through the arch to the inner courtyard, a great portcullis came crashing down behind them. The stragglers yelped, turning towards the bars and pulling on them helplessly.

 “Very good,” spoke the female administrator. “The five of you…”

“Six!” cried Alec from his distant door.

“Six of you have passed the first test. We aren’t here to tell who is and who isn’t an artist. True bards and minstrels know in their hearts that they are so. Those poor suckers will have a full year of additional studies and lectures pay to hopefully learn this lesson for next year. Now, if you all will follow me, let’s get this competition underway.”

The woman turned in a flourish of rainbow scarves, clothes and ribbons, walking towards the main hall as bells hidden in her great woven hair jingled merrily.

Derrek looked at the other contestants curiously. All of them were unsure if this were another test. Derrek shrugged and hurried after her. Two followed suit with Alec tentatively emerging from his barricade and following at a distance. The last two remained behind, watching the man in pure green who silently appraised them.

Once all of them had followed the woman through the door, the administrator turned, jammin a heavy key into the lock of the door. The click of the heavy tumbler fell into place and she lowered a great plank of wood. She then turned to the worried four faces watching her.

“Very good,” she smiled. “You’ve passed the second test and to not suspect that the Bard’s College is filled with absolutely trickery. Every good bard and minstrel must trust both his instinct and others if she is going to get anywhere in the world. Perhaps those two will eventually figure out that the third administrator is mute and doesn’t have anything to say after an hour or two. Who knows, Gorbel sure does just love to stand and stare! Come along!”

The four of them walked after the jangling hair through the back halls of the Bard’s College. Memories returned to Derrek of sneaking through these passages during the night. He could remember the sounds of rehearsing bards’ voices filling the air during the evenings. As they passed closed rooms he recalled the hours spent in movement and body study as they learned the intricacies of uncountable cultures and their dances.

And all of that before he was kicked out and had to spend two years at an Academy.

“Hey, not bad. Final four already eh?” Alec whispered, nudging Derrek encouragingly in the ribs.

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten you still haven’t told me anything.”

“Tell you what, you beat me in the Challenge and I will tell you everything I know,” Alec smiled.

“You’re just hoping you have to perform first so you can use my best tales,” Derrek grumbled.

“Here’s hoping this year is also done by alphabetical order!”

“Here we are!” the administrator called. She slammed another key into a wooden door, opening up the back of the main stage for the competitors. They each passed quietly through, gathering around her as she stood before the front curtain.

“Very well, before we begin I have to insure that you all have been registered of course.”

A young man came running from the wings, his face flushed and his breath heavy. He held out three papers to the administrator who took them with a smile.

“Thank you Tobias. Here we are: the last registrations of those who didn’t fail the first two challenges. Gorbel and Elcelsior were much faster this time.”

The administrator pulled a pair of jewelled spectacles from her shirt and looked over the papers.

“Very well, when I call your name please identify yourself. Alec Carver.”

“Present!”

“Laara Sinclair?”

“Here.”

 “Dirrek Ginmg… Gungm…”

“Derrek Gungrich,” Derrek corrected.

“Yes, of course. That’s it then!”

“Ummm, excuse me ma’am,” the fourth contender said. “But you haven’t called my name.

“And who would you be dear?”

“Dirrac Gilimari.”

The administrator flipped through her clearly three papers before looking back at the young man and smiling politely.

“It seems we’ve misplaced your forms, if you wouldn’t mind following Tobias here, he’ll help you get them sorted immediately.”

The young man nodded, following the flustered aid from the stage.

The administrator shook her head, a cascade of tinkles emitting from her hair.

“There’s always one every year,” she sighed. “No matter, hopefully next year he’ll remember to file his registration. I hope Tobias is gentle with pitching him out.”

The administrator turned, clapping her hands loudly. Immediately, the curtains were drawn back, revealing the grand hall in all its glory. Massive chandeliers hung from the great vaulted ceiling casting long shafts of light down through their tinted crystals. Enormous decorative banners and tapestries hung from the walls and balconies filling the massive hall with intricate designs and glorious pieces of colourful art.

Immediately, the gathered crowd began a thunderous roar as a hidden band struck up a celebratory cord. The administrator hopped forward, letting her dress, ribbons and scarves twirling about her as she twisted her ringing head. She immediately flowed into an elegant dance with her body moving perfectly in time to the music as if the two had become one.

As she finished, the applause seemed to swell to a thunderstorm and she stood beaming in the adoration, bowing deeply as whistles and flowers were sent her way.

“Thank you, thank you!” she shouted, raising her hands. She waited for the applause to die enough for her to speak. “Greetings honoured guests and welcome to the sixteenth annual Bard’s Challenge. We welcome with open arms our esteemed guests of Etreria to bear witness to the ultimate competition to name our Seeker of the Cord. This year, we have three very special competitors!”

“Let me first welcome Laara Sinclair! Esteemed daughter of the High Duke of Westermarch, Laara is an accomplished orator and harpist. Being the daughter of a High Duke, she has borne witness to many talented individuals coming through her halls but it was the charming smile and quick wit of Petrarchis that lured her into the dreamhalls of minstrelry. Hopefully her father’s knights don’t find her until she has successfully achieved that dream!”

The crowd cheered as a very stunned and overwhelmed Laara stepped forward and bowed meekly.

“Don’t act timid, we deduct points for that,” the administrator whisper to the girl. “Our next competitor calls the temperate steppes his home. Born of a wealthy merchant and apothecary, the ever pampered Alec Carver sought training in these illustrious halls as he had no other prospects for his future. Much to the dismay of his family, he refused to return to carry on any of their businesses, aspiring to become the biggest name in the land and prove to all the children at home who taunted him that he could amount to something!”

Alec strolled confidently forward as the applause, while continuing, didn’t seem as supportive as that of Laara.

“Be careful, for even the smallest of chinks in the mask of your confidence will break under the crowd’s scrutiny,” the administrator whispered. “Our final competitor is a surprising one since we have very strict rules against non-members participating. But after being what he considered unfairly expelled from the College, our dashing (and may I add gorgeous) Derrek Gungrich sought training at one of our rivals’ Academies. There he met another young man from his village and after only a year and a half at the Academy, they returned home to set off on grand adventures. Eschewing traditional classroom instruction and gathering worldly experience, Derrek travelled across uncountable lands and kingdoms until returning to the city of his true calling. Relying on the virtues of a true bard, he lied and trick his way into the final test where he hopes of finally receiving recognition for his artistic endeavours!”

Derrek was too stunned by the candid introduction that he simply stumble forward and gave as gracious of a bow as he could.

“Don’t think anything goes beneath our notice,” the administrator whispered to him before smiling broadly and applauding with the crowd.

“Let the Challenge begin!”