Chapter 1: The Jaga Nest

The bar was rank with the smell of tobacco and alcohol. A man in a leather jacket , aviator sunglasses and a red mask sat at one of the highest bar tops, drinking a large mug of Daxian ale; drinking like a man who had spent a very long time in the desert and had become very thirsty with a hankering for alcoholic beverages. Daxia was a village in England dedicated solely to the brewing of ale. Only the best ale was ever produced there. The name of the bar was the Jaga Nest, and the man in the red mask was Tahu, an up and coming vocalist. He hadn't sung with a group or had any gigs for months and his money was running out like a well going dry. He sat there, drinking and trying to think of ways to earn more money.

Every Tuesday at the Jaga Nest there was a new music act. There were many different styles of music, and Tahu had seen or participated in nearly all of them. He realized that he couldn't continue on his own as a vocalist; he needed some instrumentalists like a jalapeno needed spiciness. As time dragged on, the band prepared to play their setlist. Tahu watched intently as three musicians stepped onto the stage, two of which appeared to have the confidence of a goat being told to roar like a lion. The third, which Tahu noticed the most, had a white mask and wore a vest. He picked up the guitar that awaited him on stage. One sat on the drummer's stool and picked up the sticks. The other took his place in front of the microphone and, smiling nervously, spoke to the drunken audience.

"How ya'll doin' tonight?" he said. A few drunken shouts were his response. Tahu said nothing but intently watched the guitarist.

"Well," the group's vocalist continued, "We're gonna play some songs to send you home with." A few more drunken shouts were all the acknowledgement he received.

Shaking his head, he signaled the drummer who nodded back and began the count of "1…2…3!"

Then the music started; Rock and Roll, by Led Zeppelin. The drummer and singer played well but it was the guitarist who caught everyone's attention. Even the crowd, who were as drunk as if they had consumed many pints and mugs of beer, could tell that the group's guitar player was far too skilled to be playing in such a small town band. The rest of the music seemed to go quiet, which it did as even his bandmates were mesmerized, when he broke into a solo. It was largely an improvised solo but it touched on nearly every note of the original and ran almost twice as long. Remembering what was happening, the drummer knocked out several fast rolls on the snare before the band resumed and finished the original song.

Tahu sat stunned. He had never witnessed any music like this before. The group's vocalist smiled; both he and the drummer had built confidence with that excellent start, the entire bar was standing, cheering, clapping, shouting and ordering more beer. The guitarist stood still, watching the crowd expressionlessly. Tahu could see, though, that he was not quite expressionless; it seemed to Tahu that there was a gleam in his eye that told he knew it was him they were cheering for, not the others.

"Thank you!" the singer said. "How about another?"

Everyone in the bar cheered; the vocalist signaled the drummer and the drummer counted off again: "1…2…3!" and he smacked the stick on the snare twice, beginning Man in the Box by Alice in Chains. The crowd watched and Tahu noticed several guitar bits that weren't in the original song, mostly bends and a few hammer-ons, bits of flare that showed the guitarist's playing style. It seemed to scream to Tahu that he wanted so badly to be playing original compositions rather than classic songs known by everyone. When the time for the guitar solo came, the guitar player went into it like a madman. Again it was mostly improvised with several bends and hammer-ons and new notes not previously present. It still touched all the major notes and riffs of the original solo. It ran nearly three times as long as it should have.

It was at this point, when the solo seemed to be drawing to a close; that the lights went out, the drums ceased and the entire guitar was set ablaze simultaneously. Notes were produced from his guitar, the likes of which had never been heard before, that are almost impossible to describe. It began sounding like Eddie Van Halen's Eruption; fast-paced and a great example of shred guitar playing. It turned into more fast hammering on and improvisation; everyone was equally surprised by the guitarist's talent. The solo went on until the guitar had been burned down to nothing more than charcoal and hot metal. As the last few notes died out, the lights came back on and the band was nowhere to be seen.

There was much cheering to be heard in the Jaga Nest that night, so much so that the police were called out and arrested half the patrons for disturbing the peace. Tahu was not present to witness that scene. He finished off the last of his drink and walked back-stage where the band were lounging around, high-fiving amongst themselves and talking excitedly about how well they had done. They stopped when they saw Tahu, half-drunk himself.

"Hello," he began, gruffly but smiling. "My name is Tahu."

"Um, hi," the vocalist said. "I'm Gresh, these are my boys Tarix and Kopaka."

Tarix, the drummer, and Kopaka, the guitarist, proceeded to shake hands with Tahu.

"Pleasure to meet you," he said. "I'm a vocalist. Well I was. I haven't had much work recently, and I'm down to my last widgets. I couldn't help but notice the talent you have and, well; I'm afraid I must be blunt: I want to join your band."

"Well," Gresh began, unsure of what to say. "We'll have to discuss it amongst ourselves and then—"

"How well do you sing?" Tarix asked.

Tahu smiled and began one of his favorite original compositions:

The darkness comes

It's here to stay

There's nothing to do

But sit and play

My guitar,

My guitar

Kopaka, who had been tuning an acoustic guitar this whole time, immediately caught on to the tune and began a chord progression, Dm, Am and Em. It was simple but it provided the proper tone for the song as Kopaka joined in the second part.

When trouble comes

With each new day

The thing I like

Is to sit and play

My guitar,

My guitar

Gresh and Tarix were still partially skeptical but the fact their guitarist had joined in the song he had never heard made them less reluctant.

"Here's my card," Tahu began and produced a card from one of his pockets. "Give us a ring when you've had the proper time to—"

"You're hired." Kopaka said, the first words anyone had heard him utter that night. Though on the outside he seemed to show no emotion, on the inside he was quite excited, believing that Tahu could be his ticket to playing more than just covers.

Of course, Kopaka could not be argued with, his bandmates had learned that the hard way. Kopaka was as stubborn as person who would not let anything happen unless it happened the way they wanted it to. Gresh and Tarix were not thrilled to have Tahu join their ranks but at this point nothing could be done. Gresh, especially, was worried that he would ultimately be replaced by Tahu, who was a vastly better singer than he.

Tahu smiled and left the bar, walking across the street to his apartment. He had a guitarist; he also had a singer and a drummer he didn't need but he would find a way to get rid of them. As he lay on his bed that evening, he hoped the rest of his band could be found as easily.