"LYNNARA!" Master Webdancer hollered at the top of his lungs as the older merchant standing before the maestro cringed; the birds in the treetops surrounding pausing, startled, for a moment, before resuming their chorus. As the last of the reverberations of his shout faded, a scuffing noise overhead was heard, followed by a series of thumps across the roof. Dust drifted down from the rafters, glinting in the sunlight that streamed through the windows, making various instruments lying around the room glow ethereally. Giving a long-suffering sigh, the tall wood elf straightened his uniform and rubbed his temples, trying to keep away the headache that threatened him.
A crash sounded in the antechamber followed by muffled yelling. The door to Jakum Webdancer's chambers opened and a young, gangly Feir'dal fell into the room. She was tall for her age, and more eloquent than a child of eight summers should be allowed. Her fiery hair was a mess, falling over her flushed face, her freckles becoming more pronounced. The headmaster arched an eyebrow and shook his head in mild amazement as she hastily tried to smooth her wrinkled tabard that showed her as a student of the Songweavers guild. One boot had come untied, slumping around her ankle, her breeches covered in stains with a gaping hole at the knee. Her ministrations to her hair were in vain, so she gave up, calming her breathing as she stood up straight.
It was a large room that served as office to the guild master and occasionally for private lessons or recitals. Lynnara saw it when she was first brought and accepted into the guild, and now only when she was in trouble, which was often. There were tapestries on the walls and floor to reduce any echoes, as well as shutters and smaller tapestries over the windows to reduce the outside noises. At the moment, the windows were open, bathing the room in golden-green light and letting a small breeze move stir the pages of sheet music that were stacked around the room.
The silence dragged on as a chunk of hair fell down, covering half of her face. The young apprentice did her best to not fidget and keep her eyes on the floor. The merchant frowned at her with pursed lips, and her master had a throbbing vein in his temple; this could not be good. After a moment's pause, annoyance and frustration under control once again, Jakum sighed, breaking the heavy silence. "The good merchant Uaylain has had to take time out of his busy day to speak to me about my students and their innate abilities to leave a path of destruction in their wake, which happened to have disturbed his business. I have spoken to the others and now it is your turn. Please. Kwentra i'narn."
The order was obvious. Tugging once more at the ruined tunic and shaking her hair out of her eyes, Lynnara cleared her throat, looking up at the two adults. "It was my fault, Hodoer Webdancer. I suggested the game. I did not realize by how far but it got out of hand and we – I...tumbled into Master Uaylain's stall." She bobbed her head towards the wronged merchant. "I assume full responsibility. Amin hiraetha." I am sorry.
At the last sentence, she straightened further, her chin going up and her shoulders back, as if to defy her teacher and mentor. Jakum ran a hand over his face, almost weary; she had the habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time along with taking the fall when the students got caught. He did not understand how someone so young could get into so much trouble with such ease. "Did I not tell you to find a quiet place to finish your studies?"
"Yes, Hodoer. And I did, but I completed them before it was time to return." She smiled proudly, "I think I got that rhythm you showed me..." her voice trailed off as she remembered why she was there, the blush returning to her cheeks. She stared once more at her feet, scuffing her toe along the floorboards.
"Lynnara, d'anthaer, I'm going to have to tell your parents." She nodded slowly, her face falling and a worried crease appearing between her brows. "It would also disappoint me greatly if you were unable to complete your studies over some childish antics." She hung her head. "Until the next new moon, four hours a day helping Master Uaylain," he turned to face the merchant, "Is that sufficient recompense for you?"
The merchant nodded and turned to the young wood elf, his brow still furrowed. "Amrun. Tomorrow. You have a lot of work ahead of you." She bowed deeply as Uaylain turned on his heel and marched out of the guildhall, the mess Lynarra created in the antechamber evident through the open door.
Jakum turned back to his wayward student, frowning at the suppressed smile on her face. "We're not through." Her face fell at the tone of his voice. "Around your four hours with the merchant, you will spend at least eight hours a day with myself or Mistress Sylia. You will attend us, either performing various tasks or pursuing your studies, including more histories. When you are not with us, you will be sleeping or helping with the children. When you are not in the nursery or your bed, you will be with your mother or father. Your meals will be had only when you have a spare moment or permission. When I meet with your parents, they may decide to add on to this, so be prepared to more. You are also forbidden to leave the city heights, and I am going to suggest being banned from the festivals as well until you show that you can be responsible. The guard will be notified, and I will know if you disobey me. This will be adjusted when you have completed your month at Master Uaylain's and have free time once more on your hands. Have I made myself clear?"
With each pronouncement, Lynnara's eyes grew wider with each serious proclamation, until he spoke of the forced confinement, when tears welled up and spilt, unbidden, from her bright blue eyes. History was her worst subject, and she would die not being able to run free! And what would she tell her friends when she wouldn't be able to attend the festivals? Her cheeks burned with shame as she rubbed away the tears with the heel of her hand. Not trusting her voice, she nodded once, not meeting his stern gaze, and turned to go, her shoulders slumped.
"Lynnara." His voice was soft in the golden room. She turned back, hiding behind a veil of her hair. His heart ached for her as he placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder, "Ah, Mother of All, what am I going to do with you? You have so much potential but if you keep allowing yourself to get into trouble and not taking this path seriously, I will have no choice but to recommend you be removed from the Hall records. When you apply yourself, you make us all so very proud." He put a finger under her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes, to see his concern and sincerity, "Remember, this punishment is to keep you busy; the more you show us you can do, the easier it will get. Focus on your studies and the time will fly by, and I'm sure Beleth will be happy to help you with histories if you need it and he is not busy. You may go now."
The door swung silently shut behind her as Jakum sat down at his large desk, raking a hand through his dark hair. "Mother of All and Father of the Rains, kyorl phor dosst dalhar...ser ilta sreen'aur," he prayed. Watch over your child and keep her safe. He stared at the report of his troublesome student, his latest transposition forgotten.