[center][i][h1][color=olivedrab]Hearts & Minds[/color][/h1][/i][/center] [hr] The preparations for next week’s harvest celebration was in full swing, and with it came visitors from all over the land. Farmers and traders, eager to participate in the event of the season and form new connections to the growing population of their little settlement. Every year, prospective travellers fleeing the scourge of Ketrefa, the wasps and beasts of the east, or in search of the growing legend of Ha-Dûna, came through their humble village nestled on a piece of arable land amid the hills. Every year, a few more seemed to stay behind, entranced by the charm of the simple life in the sun and relative safety of Àite-Tàimh, and most families welcomed them with open arms. More people meant easier work, safer work. Each white-cloak moving through towards Ha-Dûna was a blessing, and even one deciding to stay for a month or year was a miracle in disguise. This year, they had two; A crusty but jovial old crone who spent all her time looking after the women in Àite-Tàimh - especially Lucrais, with her third child on the way - and her young apprentice Aoife. Ever since she had first walked into the village, smiling with a warmth of a thousand summers at Eòghan where he had sat on his fencepost, watching them both approach, he had been smitten. Aoife was the perfect storm. Her flowing red hair, a fire that could not go out. Her blue eyes, and the dusted freckles on her cheeks. He lay awake at night thinking about her happy waves from across the village as she trailed her tutor, about that mild-mannered laugh when he told her his latest story. Her words were like a song, a song he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, stop listening to. That was why, on this day with a sleepy sun making the last preparations before sinking beyond the horizon, and a gentle wind, it was with extra distaste that Eòghan watched the wonderful Aoife being tricked into spending more and more time with Cailean, Old Claib’s son. From his usual perch he watched the two frolic about the village, Cailean dancing around her like a hill snake coiling around its prey. His smug, dumb face locked in a grin as he harassed her with silly jokes, and pointing out things around the village that she surely already knew about - after all Eòghan had made a point of showing her around after the first day of their arrival. For some reason he didn’t understand, Aoife seemed to be full of mirth, laughing at Cailean’s jokes and skipping around asking questions of her own. The butterflies in his stomach grew to a strange churn, and eventually a boulder that seemed to catch in his throat. Aoife was going to leave after the festival, and all she’d remember was that dumb Cailean and his stupid grin. Unable to watch anymore, Eòghan headed home with a head full of worry. [hr] A week passed in no time, with the whole of Àite-Tàimh abuzz with a variety of chores. Eòghan’s father had him help with seating - they’d hewn long tables perfect for the outside feast, and the farmers from the hill across had dug fire pits on either side to keep them warm long into the night. Tons of families had come together to make wreaths, effigies, and different charms for the many gods, greatly helped by Aoife and her tutor. It was shaping up to be an amazing celebration, remembered by the village folk and gods alike. Eòghan was dressed in his best clothes, and his sister had knitted him a personalized hair pin that looked like a rose surrounded by lilies. When she’d found out that Aoife loved flowers, she’d made it just for him to give as a gift. She’d also snickered a lot. With the hair pin in hand, he made his way to the center of town, eager to find the girl of his dreams, and win her over once and for all with this memento of her time in the village. She’d spent a lot of time with him over the week - that much was true, but each time he had hoped to talk to her alone, Cailean had come and ruined it all. Spirited her away, or given Eòghan a bigger workload. But this time, he could not be topped. That dumb boy wouldn’t ruin his time together with her anymore. As Eòghan reached the village center, he glanced around for her. Her red locks were easy to spot, and his smile grew as he picked her behind the crowd of milling visitors. However, his heart sank like a stone in water not a moment later. Across the way, by the chicken gate, who was taking up Aoife’s attention from afar if not Cailean. Worse, he had some kind of intricate instrument that he was managing to fully ensnare her with. Eòghan pushed through the people, saying hello to those he knew, determined to fully scope out his competition. Even from afar he could hear the twangs of music, a few discordant notes off-key in a song that Cailean had obviously practiced at least for a while. He knew he could handle a flute, but this, this was something else entirely. He stared at the musical procession from afar, and tried to make out what the dastardly instrument was. A nearly round shape of wood and animal skin, with strings running up the middle in a loose net. Almost like a bow drawn back far beyond its limits. Cailean’s fingers strummed on the strings, and music flowed forth in delightful, taut intervals. Eòghan stared at the instrument in disbelief and saw Aoife nodding her head next to him, enjoying the miniature concert. It was the last straw. Seeing his chances shatter in front of him, Eòghan stormed forwards towards Cailean and his dumb instrument, and pointed at it sharply as he interrupted the performance. [color=olivedrab]”What [i]is that[/i]?”[/color] he demanded, and immediately regretted it when he saw Cailean perk up with a smug smile. “Oh, Eòghan, hey. Didn’t see you there. This here is a lyre, you know. M’dad got it all the way from the Prairie-folk in the west, he did. Says it’s all the rage. I been practicing for this lovely lass here. Yes, you.” Cailean replied, and winked towards Aoife, whose cheeks burned with a summer fire. Eòghan was speechless, and felt a despair and rage well up within him. How could this be how it ended? Cailean had been practicing on some exotic instrument, and the world had never intended for Eòghan to have a chance. It wasn’t fair. He mumbled a brief compliment for Cailean’s instrument to not lose face, and walked off with all the self-control he could muster. Between tears and the urge to hit Cailean, wrestle him for her attention, he clutched the hair pin in his hand and mosied over to his old fence post instead, away from the bustle of the celebration. Alone at his perch, he glowered over towards the now distant Cailean as he continued to play for Aoife. In his head, he cursed his own luck, and his inaction. How could he compete with something like that? He held his head in his hands and thought the worst of his life. Cursed existence. Felt like he could scream. Finally, he prayed. There was nothing else left to try. He called out in his head, asking for guidance, for salvation, and for love. He had never truly cared much for the gods and their tales, but it couldn’t hurt to try. He knew from his mother’s stories that there was such a thing as a love goddess. So why should only Cailean get her blessing? To his surprise, Eòghan felt a stifling presence wash over him, a whisper in his ear, though no one was there. [color=8493ca]”You call for me, Eòghan, son of Baltair and Muire, and I answer,”[/color] the voice whispered, seductive and intrusive in tone. [color=8493ca]”Your pain is my pain, my sweet. Truly, the world is wicked.”[/color] He stood breathless for a moment, gaze flicking from side to side as he tried to sight the voice, but no one else seemed to hear her. It was a miracle. He looked up to the sky instead. [color=olivedrab]”Can you help me, goddess? I-.. I cannot compete with his exotic instrument.”[/color] [color=8493ca]”Is it competition you wish for?”[/color] the voice asked with a whisper. Eòghan nodded firmly, eyes moving back to stare at the far away Cailean. And her. [color=olivedrab]”I would do anything to win her heart. He doesn’t care about her, he’s always like this. What I wouldn’t give to give him a dose of his own medicine.”[/color] There was a lingering pause. Were it not for the presence still impacting on his mind, he would have thought he was alone again. [color=8493ca]”As you ask, so shall it be. Anything for you, my dearest. The sweet music of love shall forever run through your veins. Enough to win any battle.”[/color] Eòghan heard a sultry exhale, and felt the wind briskly grip and tussle his hair. Before he could speak, the haze had lifted from his mind, and he blinked vigorously as sound and sensation came back from the world around him. Had he dreamed? He didn’t feel different. He lifted his arms as if to weigh them and inspect his own clothes. Nothing had changed. Perhaps he imagined it. Somehow. His eyes trailed back to Aoife and the dumb, stupid scoundrel with his equally dumb instrument. Only this time something felt strange. He straightened himself out and narrowed his eyes, gaze falling on the distant lyre as Cailean played on. Slowly he found himself walking back towards the two, watching Cailean’s fingers as they strummed on his exotic instrument. As if elevated to new understanding, Eòghan began to see the pattern he created as he played, and how it could change through simple rhythm and motion. He saw what Cailean did wrong when he created his errors. He knew he could do better. He felt it in his bones. No. He [i]had[/i] to do better. [color=olivedrab]”Can I try?”[/color] Eòghan forced out as he found he had stamped all the way back to them both. Cailean stopped playing his sedate tune and eyed him with a mixture of surprise and smug glee. “Of course, Eòghan. Go easy, though. It’s harder than it looks. Wouldn’t want you to have to buy a new one!” he remarked with his typical attitude, and slowly handed over his lyre to Eòghan. From his expression, Eòghan knew he expected him to fail. He wasn’t so sure he could do it either, but he felt compelled to try. Eòghan glanced to Aoife, who gave him a smile that made his cheeks warm. He had to. He hefted the instrument like Cailean had, and settled his hand against the strings. Then he began to play. At first, he played the same tune as his idiot rival had. Gentle and unassuming. Knowing how it worked from watching Cailean, he corrected the mistakes his rival had made, and the song flowed with gentle ease. Aoife clapped happily, and Cailean looked both dumbstruck and impressed. But Eòghan didn’t feel victorious. It wasn’t over. It was too easy. It wasn’t his instrument. He had to wow her, no, wow them both! He paused in the gentle rhythm, took a quick breath, and closed his eyes. Tried to focus on the songs he had heard sung in the past. He settled on one, and began to play anew. His fingers moved as if on their own, well-learned and graceful on the instrument. It was a pleasant melody, one that deserved the lyrics he had heard before. And so, to the already awestruck two listeners, he sang. [center][color=olivedrab][i]”Ask not the sun why she sets, Why she hides her light away. Or why the moons in the sky do raise, When night turns crimson gold to grey. For quiet falls the tired sun, As day to dark does turn. Instead her sister climbs her peak: Her light cast for us to yearn. She watches from above, Worry not my darling sun. The moon guards us in the night, Shielding from fear and blight. Gentle sun, go to rest, The moon has come to us again.[/i][/color][/center] As his hands came to a rest, and Eòghan once more opened his eyes, he was stunned to find a whole crowd of villagers nearby, stopped in their tracks to listen. There was a brief pause, before two of the Kinley boys started applauding, which in turn brought on a deluge of approval from the others. It felt like the whole village was there to adore his words, his tunes. A hand slammed into his back with sudden, if manageable force. Cailean forced himself into view, grinning like a madman. “Wow! You’re a natural, Eòghan! You gotta teach me! I’ll tell Father for sure!” Eòghan smiled back, relief and pride washing over him as even Cailean seemed genuinely touched. He had truly done it. He was blessed by the gods. He glanced around for Aoife, and found her crowded out by the approaching villagers. His green eyes locked with her blue amidst the commotion. She gave him a gentle smile. He smiled back, and her face dusted with summer red. He would give her the pin after all. [hr] [hider=Summary] It’s harvest party time in the northern highlands! Eòghan is a local kid who is seriously crushing on Aoife, a druid apprentice in town over the festival. They get along well, and Eòghan is building up confidence to express his emotions properly. Unfortunately, local jerk Cailean is also all up in Aoife´s face, and worse; Aoife seems to like him too! Oh no! As the festival arrives, Eòghan has a plan to fix everything and express his affection; he will give her custom bling to win her over! But as he arrives to find Aoife, it turns out that Cailean has used the power of parents to acquire a devilish new instrument, and he is in the midst of wooing Aoife with his demonic (not really) powers! Eòghan is drained of confidence, and curses his existence. He prays to what little he knows of the love goddess for guidance, and to his surprise, she responds. After he accidentally words his request to Neiya without knowing it, she grants his request and gives him cool learning powers - which he promptly uses to beat Cailean the Jerk at his own game! Music battle! He smiles at Aoife, and she blushes. [/hider] [hider=MP Summary] Starting MP/DP: 5/3 Consecrated: Eòghan - Hero Unbeknownst to Eòghan, Neiya worded her blessing very specifically. His musical blessing is eternal, unlike him. As such, his heroism is passed on as a Bloodline in the event of his passing. Compulsive Rivalry I: (Whenever this hero hears music, singing or folk tales, they are compelled to outperform them.) - 1 DP (3/5 towards Envy) Idea Thief II: (This hero has an innate talent for mastering new instruments, singing techniques and cultural niches of musical entertainment, but only if they see someone else performing it.) - 2 DP (5/5 towards Envy) Remaining MP/DP: 5/0 5/5 towards unlocking Envy Portfolio. [/hider] [hider=Prestige] Eòghan: +5 (10k+) 5 total Prestige! [/hider]