[center][h2]Several years ago…[/h2][/center]
It had been a week since Zachary had fled the household. He had not wanted to run away initially. After all, he was but a mere boy only armed with a lute and a now empty food satchel. However, [i]Papá[/i] had intended on destroying grandfather’s instrument before Zacahry's very eyes. Zachary could not stand idly by and watch his heritage be smashed in front of him. Striking [i]Papá[/i] was both the bravest and most stupid decision Zachary had ever made, and to make matters worse he had run out the door with what he could grab with no plan in mind. 

It had been a few days since he had crossed the channel between Ibion and Estala. The foreigners welcomed him with a language had had never heard before, causing him to feel uneasy the further north he traveled into these unknown lands. It wasn’t until now that he had reached his limits. Zachary knew he could not go on like this for much longer. When this thought crossed his mind the winds gusted and blew his hat off his head until it landed in front of an open doorway. Rushing forward and quickly grabbing his beloved hat, Zachary stood back up and saw the doorway had a sign next to it. The words were unfamiliar but the image showed that of a bed and warm food. It looked the same as the image used for inns in Ibion so Zachary walked right inside.

However, this inn wasn’t as uplifting as the ones his grandfather once took him to. The people in here were all either silent or mumbling to each other. There were no loud people having a fun time with their ale, there was no occasional roar of laughter from the bar, and every person had a somber expression. Walking towards the bar with his lute and satchel feeling heavier every step, he kept hearing one sound among all the others the Estalians spoke: war. Zachary knew not what this word was, yet the atmosphere clued him in that it meant nothing good.

Approaching the counter, Zachary reached into his pockets to find he had no coin left. Frantically searching his satchel to find nothing as well, sadness filled his heart as he would go without food for a second day. The barmaid gave the young boy a strange look at first but paid no mind as he went to take a seat at the edge of the entertainment platform. Zachary sighed to himself, taking off his hat and laying it on the ground next to his feet. The top of the hat sunk slightly under its own weight as the bottom remained open to the air. His lute rested on his lap as Zachary leaned forward in defeat. Before giving up, the words of his grandfather rung through his head, [color=fff79a][i]“If you ever feel down child, play a tune. It is good for the mind [i]and[/i] the heart. Trust me, you will feel better in no time.”[/i][/color]

Zachary’s heart pulled slightly at the memory of his lost grandfather. Sitting up straight, Zachary tuned his lute. The slight twangs from his adjustments caught the ears of nearby patrons. Once his adjustments were done he [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ny-boeAP-pc]let his fingers loose into song[/url]. The notes flew naturally off of the lute’s strings and filled the air of the inn. Soon all eyes were on Zachary. The patrons could not believe that such a young looking boy was playing this music. Zachary was too focused on playing his music to notice their expressions, and he kept letting his hands fly freely across the lute. The song was one of hope and inspiration. The song opened with a somber tune which quickly shifted into a faster paced sequence that raised the spirits. The chorus was when the inn patrons began to whisper among themselves about this display of skill. The minutes went by and Zachary slowly stopped the song to its end. As he did, the patrons burst into applause which snapped him out of his focused state. Men and women alike were cheering for the boy’s performance, tossing a few spare coin into the hat he laid down by chance. A great big smile broke across Zachary’s face. It was not due to his payment but to the smiles and joy he had just brought to this small inn. In a matter of minutes Zachary alone had cheered up these people. The event had set a flame in his heart.
[hr]
[center][h3]The Present[/h3][/center]

From then on, the boy traveled northward reinvigorated with a new purpose: to bring that same joy he brought to that inn everywhere he went. Hopefully one day he would play for his grandfather once again. Days soon turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Zachary was now seventeen years old and quite familiar with the language of Estala. Word of a young bard traveling north soon spread throughout the land, earning Zachary his own reputation. This reputation is what led him towards responding to the king’s call for prince escorts. Although he might not be a fighter, keeping spirits high was just as important as a cleric’s duty for healing. This reputation would be his foothold for joining this party.

Zachary stood in an archway, leaning against the wall spacing that separated the lounge area and the grand stairwell. He observed the people present for the prince’s escort that were in the vicinity. A foreign maiden, an armored knight, a young mage, and a swordsman as well. He looked at them with a smile as he tuned his lute in silence. The adjustments took him just enough time to get a good look at the people present. They all looked like people from various different backgrounds. Zachary was sure there would be conflicts among everyone, but he was sure they could all pull through and do their best for the prince.

Speaking of which, as Zachary was finishing his final tuning adjustments the prince slid down the stairway railing. [color=Yellow]”Bravo, [i]joven amigo[/i],”[/color] the bard spoke under his breath. He watched as the prince go by when he noticed the blue haired mage alone in the lounging area to his left. He decided it best to greet and be friendly towards the boy, as a start at least.

[@Tenma Tendo] [color=Yellow]"¡[i]Hola[/i], my young friend!”[/color] the bard spoke in an Ibion accent to the prone boy. The bard let his lute go slack on its strap as he took a few steps forward. [color=Yellow]”What might that tome be, friend? I am… what is the word…”[/color] The raggedy bard paused and scratched his chin for a moment. The sweet smell of straw lingered from him as he stood there struggling to formulate the word. His eyes brightened not a moment later. [color=Yellow]”Curious! I am curious about your magic prowess, friend.”[/color] He had a big grin on his face as he stood nearby in the room.