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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Raising Evzen - 5. A Little Night Music

“The Alliance fleet dragged the Lidikrys from their ancient homeworld orbiting a massive blue giant star. Many say that your forefathers were rescued by the fleet, as the Lidikrys homeworld has not been seen in hundreds of years.”

Sasha stared at one of the history books in the library. Thick and covered in dust, the tome looked like it hadn’t been touched since the library had been built. But it would certainly do the trick, introducing his charge to the concept of Imperial history. Bohdan would not let his children learn from anyone outside the clan unless they passed his inspection first, and it left the burden of finding a worthy teacher on the Novák pups. Tanya and Tomas had been lucky to find good teachers. Evžen had been bought one.

“Throughout the exodus from what is commonly claimed by the Alliance of Free Systems to be a supermassive black hole, the Lidikrys requested sanctuary on habitable planets near their ancestral home. However, the Alliance saw fit to take them out to a little-known system near what they called the Colonia Nebula, in the distant reaches of the mapped galaxy. There, your forefathers were abandoned on a tidally locked world, with the promise of aid. It never arrived.”

Evžen yawned as Sasha talked, and the Faro fought off a small frown, staring at the book in front of him. He was losing the Lidikrys’ interest, but then, Sasha had expected that. His master had been teaching himself gardening, the piano, all things that interested him, since he learned to read. Switching that to a more general study was going to be difficult for them both, unless Sasha could find a way to keep Evzen focused on his lessons.

“I want to play the piano,” the Lidikrys said.

“Your father told you not to.”

Sasha reached for a small tablet, tapping the screen quickly. The sound of soft violin music filled the library, and he set the tablet aside.

“Why don’t we take a short break and listen to some music? You’ve been working for almost two bells already,” the Faro said. “Do you know where this song came from, Pane?”

His master shrugged, leaning back in his seat to stare at the light above them.

“This song was composed by Mistr Černý, who was known for his choppy embellishments on older pieces. This theme is one you can hear in the exposition of Mistr Kovář’s Sonáta 42, though it has been rewritten in a style you would be more likely to hear in the jungles of Narax, where Mistr Černý got his start.”

“Didn’t he ruin Mistryně Krejčí’s Sonáta 31 by messing with her guitar?”

Sasha nodded thoughtfully.

“Some would say that he did. There are those who believe Mistr Černý was a shameless thief of themes. His supporters claim that he never intended to steal the music he altered, he merely wished to recreate it in a more comfortable style for himself. It’s a touchy subject among musical theorists.”

Evžen stared at the Faro silently, in what Sasha hoped was a contemplative manner. The Faro really didn’t have much hope for that though.

“I want the piano,” Evžen insisted, standing up.

“Pane, Pan Novák specifically told you not-”

The Lidikrys threw himself at Sasha. In the space of a breath, the Faro forced himself to relax, letting his breath escape his lungs as he sank into a silent mantra drilled into his head.

Do not harm the master.

A fist pummelled his stomach, knocking Sasha off his feet. Hands grasped his tail, twisting it, wrenching it as a bone snapped. The Faro bit his lip, blood spilling from his mouth in an attempt to keep from screaming. Screaming would do no good, not here.

“I said I want to play the piano! Let me play the piano or I’ll tear your tail off!”

“Pane, I cannot control whether you play or not. I can only warn you that your father will be displeased.”

He let the tiniest amount of satisfaction wash over him as his voice somehow remained steady, free of the agony that filled him. The pressure released slowly, and the Faro fought down a sigh of relief. His body ached, the pain of his broken tailbone shooting through his body as Evžen stood up.

Slowly, Sasha lifted himself into a kneeling position, dabbing a hand at the broken skin of his lip. Blood marred the soft white fur on his hand as he pulled away. Nothing a few storms wouldn’t heal naturally. His tail though… he’d have to ask Radek if there was a wrap for it. The Faro could not spend another storm in the med tank.

“Why do you do that?”

His ears flicked slightly, the Lidikrys’ words piercing the pained haze threatening to claim him. Sasha glanced up, his head remaining bowed. Evžen was staring down at the Faro, confusion filling his eyes.

“Pane?”

“You don’t cry. You don’t scream. And you didn’t in the bathroom either. Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t help. And because pain doesn’t bother me.”

“Even if I tore off your tail?”

Sasha shrugged.

“If you decide you do not wish me to have a tail, I will not have a tail. There would be no sense crying about it.”

“Father says pain is the best way for me to learn…” Evžen scowled.

“Perhaps he is right. But it is not the best way for me to learn,” Sasha said evenly. “Slave masters would beat me from the time I could walk. Pain as punishment lost meaning quickly.”

“Then how did people punish you?” Evžen asked curiously.

Blood dripped from his lip as Sasha looked up at his master. Never at the face, he would never meet the Lidikrys’ face.

“There is something that every person fears. The masters at the farm said find that fear, you will control that person. You fear pain. You fear the dark. Your father uses these to control you,” the slave explained quietly. “I was taught to fear pain. But they pushed too hard. Now there is only one thing I fear. The death of my master.”

“So… you fear death…” Evžen said uncertainly. “But if I killed you, Father would punish me…”

“No, Pane. I do not fear my death. I fear your death, for it would mean I failed as a slave,” Sasha corrected gently. “But there is another way to correct someone under you. Logic. Reason. If you make them think like you do, if you can find a way to prove beyond a doubt that what you say is rational and right, they will have little choice but to listen. And if you prove to be someone reliable, someone who can offer the right path, people will follow you without question.”

“So… if I told you to let me play the piano or I’d hurt you again-”

“Pane, that path is not the best way to control me. You are relying on pain. It doesn’t work.”

“But it makes me feel good. I’m stronger than you. I could kill you if I wanted.”

“You could. I would do nothing to stop you,” Sasha agreed. “But who would you beat after me? Using pain would only leave you without a slave; a slave who would do nearly anything to ensure you are protected, safe from harm. Could you beat Radek? Could you hurt your father? Or would you be left without any release from the anger and pain?”

The Faro lowered his head again, breathing quietly through the pain. His body was getting used to the broken bone, the throbbing burn in his tailbone dulling. It made the break easier to bear, though Sasha knew he’d be hurting more when he moved.

“Pane, if I might make a suggestion. You have learned much in the last few bells. It would be wise for us to take a break. If you wish, I can accompany you to the keeping room. Your father purchased a violin for you to use.”

“I don’t like the violin,” Evžen growled, stamping his foot. “I want to play the piano!”

“Are you prepared to accept your father’s punishment for disobeying, Pane?”

“I don’t care what he does,” the Lidikrys snapped, his tail flicking in anger and fear.

“Then you will play the piano. I have done what I could to stop you. But your father still wishes you to learn the violin instead. I will be teaching you while you play.”

 

Pure piano notes rang through the keeping room. Sasha ran his fingers along the neck of the violin, following the scales with his master. It had been nearly eight storms since he’d last touched an instrument, and he could feel the barest hint of rustiness wash away as he practiced.

“Switch to the C minor,” Sasha said quietly, picking up the bow.

Gentle pressure ran over the strings, the Faro keeping up with his master easily, ensuring he could hear each note, understand the tonal differences between the instruments. It was a barebones way for the Lidikrys to learn; Pan Novák would not call it learning, but Sasha understood that he would not get Evžen to touch the violin unless he made the instrument more exciting, and he had to find a way of doing that.

“Now… do you know Mistr Kovář’s Concerto 21?”

Evžen nodded, pulling out several sheets and searching through them.

“Tanya always turned the pages for me,” he complained.

“Perhaps Radek could help us?” Sasha asked, glancing at the Daknar in the kitchen.

“Pan wishes supper to be ready early today,” Radek denied. “Forgive me Pane Evžen.”

The Lidikrys growled, slumping slightly in his seat. He sat up a moment later, rushing from the room. A minute later, Evžen threw himself back into his seat, dropping a tablet onto the music rest. He tapped at it furiously for a moment, before letting out a happy chitter.

“I got it!”

“Well done Pane. Will you lead us in please?”

There was a moment’s breath, and then playful plinks came from the piano, a jaunty start to the piece. Sasha set the violin to his shoulder, foot tapping lightly before his right arm exploded into action.

The bow whipped across the strings, a staccato running up and down several strings before advancing into a playful series of somewhat squeaky chirps as the piano fell away. Evžen was left to play a series of five notes over and over in the second movement as the violin filled the room with joyful banter.

Sasha pressed a smile to his lips as the young master turned his head to gape at him. He would show Evžen how much fun the violin was, with so many pieces that were more advanced than a woman’s piano. This was the instrument of a true master.

The piano stopped abruptly, Evžen scowling at Sasha as the Faro lowered the violin.

“You’re tricking me,” the Lidikrys growled, staring at the violin. “You’re taking all the fun parts for yourself.”

“Forgive me Pane. I am merely playing the concerto as it is meant to be played. The violin is more nuanced in this piece than the piano. If you wish to learn it, I am at your service.”

He held out the instrument, Evžen glaring at the violin. The Lidikrys snatched it out of Sasha’s hand, propping it onto his neck.

“The other way, Pane,” Sasha said gently, watching the Lidikrys struggle with the grip on the violin’s neck. “You want to keep your wrist up, underneath the neck. Your left hand plays in the reverse of the piano.”

He loosened the bow hairs, tucking it back into the case before approaching Evžen. Passing the Lidikrys, Sasha sat on the piano bench, his tail sending agony up his spine. A moment’s breath let him fight the pain down, and he turned to Evžen.

“The first string on the violin is G3.”

A key pressed down, a rich note filling the air, holding steady as Sasha held down a pedal. He heard an uncertain plucking, Evžen taking a moment to realize he could play the string without a finger on it.

“The first note after is A,” Sasha added, letting the note die out before pressing the next key.

“But what about the flats and sharps?”

“Those are low and high notes. If you find A, you can find A flat and A sharp more easily.”

The Faro pressed the note again, subtle encouragement for the Lidikrys, and Evžen growled quietly, plucking up the string until he found the note.

“And now up to B.”

Copyright © 2021 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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