For the Love of Light- Part 3

It was three days before Father Robert Delion saw Beckyann again. It was evening, and he had just left the abbey to fetch some water from the nearby stream. They were going to consecrate some holy water at dawn and he was just putting the final touches on the materials used in the simple ritual. As he bent down near the stream, he heard sounds drifting through the forest. Curious, he set his bucket down and headed towards the sound.

She was sitting on a small rise of earth that overlooked the flowing stream. Dressed in a black and silver dress this time, she sat cross-legged with her back against a tree, her bare feet folded beneath her. Moonlight arced down from the sky above, glittering on the flowing waters of the stream and playfully highlighting her hair. Strangely enough, she still wore glasses, these being a deeply tinted green that obscured view of her eyes rather than the sunglasses he'd seen previously. He idly thought that perhaps she had poor vision and needed to wear them all the time.

In her hands was something that made him gasp. He had been expecting her to have a violin, but not one with the quality of craftsmanship that she now held in her hands. Exquisitely hand-carved from some tree in Quel'Thalas, the instrument was a stunning work of art. Its graceful curves were polished to a deep rich sheen, the wood stained a deep brown with bits of gold filigreed along its length. The bridge itself was inlaid with gold and pearl, artful designs of trees and flowers making patterns across it. Here and there was a deeper splotch of color, as if the wood had absorbed more stain or a deeper, richer red stain than the rest. Clearly it was the work of the elves of Quel'Thalas, and the fact that the obviously poor woman hadn't sold it told Father Delion much about how she valued her music.

She had been tuning the violin, expertly adjusting the tension on the strings to ensure that each played true. Using a small flute to help her identify the notes, Beckyann finished as Father Delion approached, scraping a bit of rosin from a block she kept in a pouch and applying it to the bowstring carefully. She brushed some of the leftover powder off her hands and dress before she finally looked up and noticed his presence,

“Good evening, Robert,” she murmured. “I believe I have mastered a few of the songs you gifted me. I've been practicing a little each day as I've been able. Some of them were a bit harder than others, but I've done my best.”

He nodded at her, offering her a smile, “Becky! This is an unexpected surprise. I had thought it would take you longer to pick up a few of the songs. Clearly you must have been excited to try your hand at the music. It's an excellent first step!”

She smiled at him, dipping her head once, her blonde hair falling around her face for a moment. He watched her, smiling as she took the violin up, resting her chin against it and putting the bow in position. He contemplated how much work she must have put in to have learned the songs over such a short time. He settled down beside her, watching with rapt attention as she began to play.

The music was beautiful. Her grasp of the piece was immediately obvious as the flowing melody drifted out into the silent, dark forest around them, the haunting song of the hymn seemingly belonging in the mysteries of the night. Father Delion found himself staring, his entire being wrapped up in the moment, in the feeling of the music flowing through him. The hymn was familiar to him, the music a backdrop for the words of faith and worship that he often repeated or sang during his sermons or private worship.

His admiration of the woman increased as she began a second piece, and then a third. Each song was lovingly played, practiced to perfection and not a single note out of place. To think that she had learned the pieces in such a short time was amazing to him, and the fact that she had put such effort into the hymns was a hopeful sign that perhaps he would be able to help the talented young woman.

After a time, her playing came to a pause, and she frowned as she held the violin, her fingers moving along the strings but her hand holding the bow in place. She looked over to him, shaking her head slightly, “I'm sorry, there is one part of this particular hymn that I have not yet mastered. The fingering is quite difficult and I fear I need more practice.”

Father Delion quickly shook his head, holding up a hand to forestall any negativity on her part, “Do not fret over it! What you have already accomplished is amazing! I can hardly believe I'd only given you that sheet music a few days ago. The fact that you have put so much effort into it....well, I'm quite impressed, Becky. I think that many others would love to hear the passion that you have put into our simple hymns with your playing. And doesn't it feel good? To let your heart free while you play? The Light touches you then you know.”

She paused, studying him and then shifting her head to look at the instrument in her hands. She spoke slowly, “There is...a certain satisfaction in playing well. Completing a task properly in an orderly fashion or obtaining a new skill can make things less dull, and give purpose when there is little reason to go forward. I am uncertain if this is the Light speaking through me as you say, but beautiful music can be stirring, even to me. Still, it vexes me that I have not learned all of this piece yet. I worked for many hours at it during the previous nights.”

He nodded at her, admiring the fact that she had spent her evenings practicing, “Why don't you show me which part? Perhaps I can help.”

She nodded, taking the violin up again and slowly beginning a new hymn from the sheet music. Father Delion closed his eyes, listening at first and then beginning to hum the tune as she played. The further she got into the song, the more he became engrossed in it, his voice rising up to sing the words of faith that went with the music. Violin and voice flowed together, the two forming a perfect harmony as she played. Towards the middle of the piece she began to falter as her fingers attempted to play the notes she was still familiarizing herself with, and after a moment or two she paused, frowning as she moved her fingers in practice with out playing.

“Here, let me help you,” Father Delion said. Without waiting for a response, he reached over and took her hand in his, his fingers sliding over hers and into the correct positions. To his surprise her hand was quite cold, and he wondered if she was chilled sitting in the night air in such a thin dress, despite the warmth of summer. For her part, Beckyann nearly recoiled from the touch, a slight gasp escaping her as he guided her. He realized that it must be rare for anyone to come into such close contact with her, and he felt pity battling with admiration at her courage in allowing him to do so.

“Like this, and this,” he said gently, moving her fingers through the positions. The black lacquer on her fingernails glittered in the moonlight as he positioned her hands, the two sitting close together. She paused as he finished, and although he couldn't see her eyes through the glasses she wore, he could tell she was staring into his eyes.

“Thank you,” she murmured, that winter-fresh scent in the air around her again. “I think I've got it now.”

He nodded, his hands sliding from hers somewhat reluctantly. To his surprise, she shifted in position, sitting close enough to him that her knees touched his, the bow in hand again as she began to play. To his delight, she picked up the hymn where they had paused, her fingers flying over the positions and hitting the notes she'd been having trouble with only a moment before. She was a fast learner, and he added 'intelligence' to the growing list of things he liked about this Beckyann.

When she finished, she lowered the bow and set the violin in her lap, looking down at it. In the silence, he could tell that she was awaiting his judgment, as if fearing to hear expected criticism. Instinctively he reached out, patting one of her cold hands and smiling, “That was beautiful, Becky. You played it perfectly. I'm really very impressed! Did you feel anything while you played? Did you feel closer to the Light through the hymns?”

She paused, studying his hand on hers. She didn't move away, seemingly taken by surprise at the gesture. Finally she spoke slowly, nodding to him, “I felt...something. It...is strange to me, that others would wish to hear me play. I haven't had anyone to play for in a very long time. There may be a few who would appreciate it, but I never thought to bring it up between my duties and other pressing matters.”

He smiled at her, patting her hand one more time before releasing her. “Well, that is the next thing we must do then. We must get you used to it. Why don't you practice a few more of the pieces, and come back in three days to visit. Come back at this time of the day, and I will listen to you play and also show you a bit of my own interests beyond the work I do for my faith. We all have hobbies and the like after all!”

She looked up and smiled at him, nodding, “I would like that, thank you. I fear I've taken up too much of your evening already. I should let you get back to your own tasks.”

He grinned, nodding and rising as she did the same. As she brushed the rosin powder from her hands and violin, he watched her in the moonlight. “I look forward to it then! Consider it a date!”

With that bowed, waving at her and turning away. In the back of his mind, he was berating himself harshly as he headed back towards his bucket.

A date? Did I seriously just tell her it was a 'date'? What a moronic thing to say! What am I even thinking! She's a member of the faith and someone who is coming to me for aid, not for a 'date'! Light!

And yet as he stooped to pick up the bucket he had left by the stream, he couldn't quite get her out of his mind, a smile playing across his lips as he thought of her wonderful music once again.

As Father Robert Delion stood and turned to bring the full water bucket back to the abbey, he never looked up to notice the shadow that passed across the glowing moon. The shadow of a skeletal gryphon as it descended at its mistress's call.