This was not the first time that Dante had been to the sea, but somehow, it was even more beautiful than he remembered. The water was clear, shimmering with blue-green light; the air was heady with that salty, briny tinge that was unique to the ocean; the sun was hot on his dark coat; and he had the sudden urge to recite a ballad. Yes. A ballad. After all, as a wandering minstrel, such stories were his trade. He lived and breathed them. They were as natural and essential to him as sunlight to a flower and such magnificent sights as the one before him served well as inspiration. Too bad he had no audience. Oh, well. A good story might be better shared, but at the least, he could keep himself company with a little music. Perhaps something to do with the ocean that had so inspired him.Thus, Dante launched into a story, his voice taking on the measures, lyrical quality of a minstrel as he began to recite one of his personal favorites.
“I sing of dark and fearful times and fragile, timid things.
I sing of monsters, fierce and strong, and warriors, brave and true.
I sing of little, gentle babes and great, deceptive kings.
I sing of crimes too long ignored and justice far past due.
“And lo, I sing of hope renewed beneath the sun-drenched sky,
of long-lost love and friends anew swept up on sandy shores.
I sing of wings that soar above and queens trapped by their fate.
I sing of chains that bind us all, even the mightiest of ‘giet.”
Farther up along the shore, Savitr, a more brightly colored ‘giet, dozed in the sun, allowing his fur to dry from his foray into the sea. Eventually, however, the large, lean male stirred, an ear twitching from some noise that his unconscious mind registered as out of place. He blinked sleepily and yawned widely, bearing his sharp fangs to the world, before he rose and stretched languorously. Finally, he turned his attention to figuring out what noise, specifically, awoke him.His spotted ears swiveled back and forth until he caught the sound again. It was louder this time. The voice of a ‘giet – headed toward him, it seemed. Vaguely curious and in a more relaxed mood than normal due to his quality time with the surf, the great male decided to wait and see who approached.
As the stranger drew nearer, his voice became more distinct and Savitr, realized that the stranger was reciting the story of The Bound Queen. It was a tale of many things, but ultimately, it spoke very highly of the ocean as a place of renewal. Curiouser and curiouser.
When he could finally see the other male, Sav spoke.
“You have good taste,” he commented.
Startled from his song, Dante blinked at the unfamiliar ‘giet whom he had failed to notice. Still, it was not his habit to be rude, so instead of gaping like a beached whale, he simply bowed his head and replied, “My thanks. It has always been one of my favorites.”
Savitr raised a brow, surprised at this dark-coated male who had interrupted his private time. “Mine, as well. It speaks well of the ocean,” he added, as though that fact alone was enough to win his approval.
“Oh? Well, it is true that the ocean plays a great role in the story, but one would think that the queen is more poignant.” The minstrel had certainly spent enough time pondering the story to know that it had many facets and that there were many points of view when considering it. After all, it was one of the greatest romances in ‘giet lore. As such, it held meaning for everyone. Still, he was curious about the other male’s interpretation.
“On the surface, perhaps. But what would she be without the ocean to guide her, protect her, nurture her?” One always had to look deeper. It was a lesson the sun-colored male had learned well. There was always a hidden meaning. A hidden agenda. Something beneath the surface. Here, at least, that something was benevolent.
It was Dante’s turn to be surprised. Who knew that he would stumble upon someone with whom he could have an intelligent conversation? Especially in so random a place as a strip of beach in the middle of nowhere. “I might argue that the ocean was merely reflecting the queen’s emotions, the turmoil of the story,” he countered.
“And I would have to say that it was guiding the story, creating the path for the characters to follow.” Really. Sav was certain that he should not be this amused debating the nuances of a story with a complete stranger. It was completely ridiculous, and yet, he was enjoying himself.
“Perhaps,” the dark male conceded. “The ocean in this particular story might be the instrument of fate. It is certainly a possibility.”
“I’m glad you can see it my way.”
Dante simply smiled in return. “It is beautiful, though,” he mused, staring out across the blue-green expanse of water.
“It is the sea – the only mistress a ‘giet needs.” And there was the truth of it. For Savitr, at least, there was nothing more sacred or necessary than the sand and the surf. The ocean did not complicate matters with emotions or petty whims, nor did it deceive or act unjustly cruel. It simply was. It could be peaceful or stormy, gentle or dangerous, but it was never anything other than itself, and that was something that Savitr valued above all else.
“Hmm…” he muttered noncommittally. It was true that the tranquility and solitude of the ocean had its virtues, but for the minstrel, there was no replacement for the companionship of other ‘geits. A glance at the sun was enough to alert the male that he had dallied long enough. “It was a pleasure meeting you,” he said. “I am Dante.”
“Savitr.”
“Well, then, Savitr. I hope our paths cross again in the future.” With that, the minstrel resumed his journey. After all, he did have an appointment to perform in a certain city in a few days time. It wouldn’t do to be late.
Amused despite himself, Savitr watched the brightly colored male wander away, picking up his ballad where he had left off. “I’m sure we will.”
