A sweet simple melodic tune grew from the gentle hums echoing in the back of a mans dry throat. The song a simple one, was given no credit by this man. His tone was off, timing uneven and rhythm clearly faulty. But he did not care, for what he heard in those vibrational patterns in the air was far different to what played on out in his head...
[indent]Memories...[/indent] 

He did not hear the failing song of of a single talentless tired throat crying to a large overwhelming lonely silence, no... There was a ringing, nimble fingers delicately running across the fine ivory keys of a grand luxurious piano. A harmonious interlude with itself as deep chords complimented the fleeting patterns of higher notes. 

From the other corner of the room comes a deep vibrational rush, filled with an invigorating energy as it bounces of every wall and pushes the bouncing melody in the mans frail old bones forcing them to move to the bouncing beat. 

Then he reaches a part in his song where his croaking hums fall flat and his smile fades, dropping away. He reaches the part of his memory that is bitter sweet. A new instrument sweeps the fray and all others bow down giving it way. A tear rolls from the mans closed eye, down a wrinkle in his dry leathery skin. 

In his mind he hears it. The sweet resonating sound that swept a silence over the busy bustling room. All the clutter and chattering that gave the joyous bustling undertone vanishes to awe. The air goes still as breathes are held and all eyes fall captivated. 

Unless heard for oneself, one could not begin to understand how much power a single voice could hold. As the vocals smoothly run out over the lips of an angel to bless his simple mortal ears, the other instruments picked back up joining in and accentuating the beautiful master piece that crescendoed into a chorus that everybody knew but no one dared taint. 

The song danced around the room like a living fey creature, taunting and teasing, pulling and pushing. It was lively, fun and touching. Layered upon and within itself everyone could find something in it.

It wasn't until the song was over and spirits and minds left a buzz as a moment of magic was experienced by all, the singer had left the stage and musicians had retired, it was then that every voice in the room, drunken or straight, merrily sung the song now stuck in there heads.

The chorus sung by the many jeerful men, rattling the tables and walls as they strained their lungs in merriment, trying to out do one another. This sound sounded more like the old mans song. But this is where his song broke...
[indent]He chokes on a breath as he swallows a painful ache.[/indent] 
He wants to go on, he wants to push past it. But he's scared. Scared of what might re surface. Scared of what he might find. 

The old man cranes up his clicking neck to look back around the tavern. An empty silent lonely room. In his boney speckled hand he held a dirty dish cloth, wet with polish and dust. Every table shined in a way they hadn't for years. 
With nothing left to do now slow steady steps carefully took the old man to the base of the daunting long stairway. As he endeavoured on this tedious quest he fell back into thoughts and memories. 

The joyous sound of many merry drunken men once again echoed around the old man as he slipped back into a distant faintly familiar world. The clattering of glasses, the scuffling of feet, the cries of laughter and even the shouts of passing aggression. All of the liveliness. It tugged at his heart while remembering what was only made him further long for all the things now far gone.

So much time had passed it could have just as easily been a dream. But one thing was real for sure. While everything else might be muffled and blurred one memory stood out as clear as the day he first saw it. 

The wooden step creeks beneath the mans shaking legs. He leans heavily on the rail to support himself. Halfway up the stairs he pauses before his eyes reach level with the floor. Nerves and excitement creep into his bones like they haven't since his adolescence. 

While just a memory, still he is eager to live it, see it, see her. Mustering strength and courage he lets go of the railing as he steps up another step just as he did so many years ago. He finds the music. It locks him to that event so long ago. He takes another step and his eyes find petite feet atop the stairs. His eyes run up the slender legs and over the dress to her face. Nondescript hair surrounds a featureless face....

No! It's not right!

Finding the strength of his younger self the man lunges forward driven by the mad beating of his frantic panicked heart! The noise, that cheerful uplifting chorus drowns away into a murmured bubbling as he pushes forward towards the the faceless figure. 

He just wanted to see her again. One last time. Step after step he failed to notice his explosive agility as he reaches for a fleeting memory. It's at his fingertips but he just can't grip her. Diving he wraps his strong arms around her waist but is met only by the floor as he awakens empty handed and heavy hearted from his lost memories.

Time was a cruel mistress, and in this tavern she would run amuck. Dorian knew this better than all else. For he and her had an unpleasant history. 
He stood up tall from the floor and brushed the dust from his suit and knees. Twisting from side to side he stretched his nimble back before cracking his neck.

Time was a cruel mistress, even more so in this tavern and worse yet to a man she despised. With a heavy breath Dorian held back a sobbing breath as his hand pressed against his eyes blocking wayward tears. 

Time was cruel. Making him live the memories he had not yet even earned. Gathering himself he looks back down the steps and over the empty tavern floor. It was empty bow but he knew it would not be for long. For he was still young and he knew patrons, employees and excitement hid just meters away behind every door. This lifted his heart but could not fill the pain of loss that had dug its way in there.

He knew what awaited him, the pleasant, the painful and the fear.