The voice beckoned.
It's tone, melodic yet frigid, tore into everyone's hearts. Softly, it started to recite the words of the first night, growing louder and louder as it repeated the verses. People have been known to have gone insane with such a voice—beautifully rhythmic and alluring to the ears, yet daunting to those who were submissive and easily hysterical.
To those who saw past the lyrics, the voice was a boon of pure artistry, a brilliant aria encompassing frightful emotions that was strangely pleasing to hear. However, to the sane and mundane, this voice was anything but; rather it was a grating sound that clawed open their chests, releasing everyone's inner demons—the most sinister cry from the Devil himself.
It quieted everyone in the kingdom, including those within the tavern inn. A stillness settled after Dileena tried to help the hapless whelps—er patrons—of her establishment. She brought them several ear coverings and passed them around like candy. After a few moments, all the coverings were allotted, and Dileena returned to soothing her patrons and quelling their worries with rounds of ale.
Yet the voice still leaked through the walls, as though the siren itself was in the room with them.
This caused a commotion with the newer travelers. They jittered in their shoes, like little lost puppies in a cold rainstorm. After getting used to the voice after so long, it was almost comical for Dileena to see people fear what's always been normal—but she took no pleasure in it.
Rather she sympathized with a few of them… just a little bit.
"Hey, stop your quivering!" She shouted to the one traveler who had been the most rowdy all night; the very same man who antagonized Marius—er, Darius (she was so used to calling him that she slightly forgot his name for real)—as he was belting out tunes. Even though she talked down Darius earlier, that didn't mean she also wasn't upset with the man in the slightest. In her own way, she vented a little bit of her frustration on him by calling him out.
But as she drew closer to make him get ahold of himself, she realized that she was perhaps being too insensitive.
The man was doubled over, bringing his leather-gloved hands over his temple, as if blocking out reality. She knew the ear coverings didn't block out the noise, but rather brought a sense of security to most travelers. Knowing this, she still handed them out so people wouldn't feel as overwhelmed. However, security was not what this one needed. Earlier she could tell that this man was the most anxious about the voice out of all the travelers today—him provoking Darius was proof of that.
What he needed was a literal escape from the voice—if that was even possible. No… there was not much that she could do for him that would fix his predicament other than a sleeping potion.
Really, he was a sight for sorry eyes—I can see why Darius was so irked by him.
Afterall, those who disrespected the voice, in Darius's eye, were unappreciative and would get what was coming to them. If they least listened to him this wouldn't happen.
Not all hope was lost.
A few locals, those that enjoyed the company of the siren's wail, glared at her for interrupting the monster's tune. She sent a silent, "Is this what you would like instead?" to Darius in her mind and moved on from them.
She didn't bat them an eyelash and instead left them all to suffer together. The bard had given up playing another tune to drone out the howls. His comedy wouldn't lighten the moods of those who were frightened. Not only that, but the same people who glared at Dileena would've thrown chairs at her lovely stage if he kept playing.
So she dismissed him, compensated for his shift, and then bounded up the stairs to the upper inn like Darius had done shortly before—giving up for the night.
Typically, a bartender shouldn't leave their post unattended, but she had faith that while the voice called, no one would dare move a muscle, let alone try and steal from the liquor shelf. Before she left they were all entranced in their own world, as if hypnotized.
She had never been transfixed by the voice. Maybe she's insane, or maybe she's just the opposite, but the voice was nothing more than a presence in her everyday life. Like the clock on a wall chiming to the hours in the day—the voice held no power over her other than alerting her that it was midnight.
Dileena was making her way to her own quarters to rest, but on the way, she passed Darius's room. His door was open, which was unprecedented for him. He was always very meticulous of his things and never let eyes pry in on his privacy. She thought that maybe he didn't fully abolish his intoxicated state as she had hoped. Afterall, we all do abnormal things when drunk.
As a sign of respect and as a natural mother-hen, she drew near the door to shut it for him.
However, as she got closer, the voice was more audible than it was downstairs—strange… Her inn was under strict orders to barricade all orifices. Surely, it couldn't be that—
As she speculated, the voice rose in crescendo, as though it was in front of her. The melancholy tone vibrated the walls around her; its wail amplified ten-fold. Shivers ran up her arms along with a feeling of dread.
Normally, she would never barge into another's private quarters. Yet her body moved before she could rationalize a better strategy. With force, the door knocked on the wall adjacent, startling the occupant of the room.
In response to Dileena's unexpected appearance, Darius, who had been sitting on the windowsill, nearly fell off the ledge. He managed to catch himself, thankfully, but his recovery didn't extend to the embarrassment at being caught with the window wide open. Dileena wore a crazed expression on her face when Darius nearly fell, but breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him perfectly fine.
Hand on her heart, she quickly got over her shock and frustratedly motioned for him to close the window. After all, if any of the patrons were to come upstairs, especially the newbies, then she would have another problem on her hands…
However, Marius—Darius (she did it again, was she getting that old?)—stared at her resolutely, unwilling to do as she wanted. Rather, he scooted closer to one end of the seats by the sill and patted the empty space for her to join him. If she ignored him, he'd keep the window open. If she joined him, he would convince her of why he should keep it open. There was no winning for her. This guy... You really always know I can't ever say no to you…
She sighed internally. Even if she could move mountains and bend matter to her will, only Darius would stare at her without fear and test her patience like this. You could lead a stubborn horse to a pool of water, but you can never make him drink.
Giving in to his whims—hoping he better have a damned good explanation—Dileena quietly shut the door she had entered through and tucked a towel under the small gap where the door met the floor so that the voice wouldn't be as loud in the hallway. She also double checked the lock, in case some drunk patron wouldn't mistake this room for theirs in the middle of the night. Once she felt that everything was secure, she sent a death glare to her partner in crime and plopped her fatigued body next to his.
Darius immediately looked back outside, taking in the voice. Dileena had no idea what he was staring at, but the more she studied him, the more he looked… serene.
Feeding into this claim, he piqued her interest by commenting, "Lovely isn't it?"
There it is again...
Try as she might, Dileena couldn't for the life of her understand what was so appealing. After knowing Darius for six years, she knew he had an inclination of respect to the voice, like those frequenting patrons downstairs—but for her it was different. She wanted to counter Darius's claim, but the moment she tried to open her mouth, he shushed her so she could listen to the verse repeat.
Really this guy…
Not realizing that he was currently fanning the flames coming from his superior, he absentmindedly closed his eyes and breathed in the cold night air. The voice echoed across the valley that faced the storefront. Its tune was picked up from the north wind and was carried over to where Darius and Dileena were sitting. She watched as he silently took it in. To Dileena, he looked rather insane for calling the voice lovely though she was used to it, but to him, the voice really was.
As a musician, he has appreciated every type of music there ever was to exist; as a bard, he fell in love with stories that carried mystery and awe. He recognized that this voice was weaving a tale of its own, a twisted one with brutal endings and tragic deaths. He couldn't help but listen to it's call, enchanted by the lyrics, hoping one day that they may finish its story.
But there was something else… A pull that he couldn't rectify, that drew him towards the voice. Dileena would call it the curse of the voice, like a siren would allure a sailor. But for Darius there was a familiarity that he also couldn't explain. It was more than a simple lull; it was as though the more he listened… His past would open up again.
This he explained carefully to Dileena—albeit leaving out the last part of familiarity; this he would keep to himself because he knew she'd never understand.
Dileena was already used to Darius's musings about the voice. Although she never agreed, she still understood where he came from. Tonight was no different. Never had she thought of the voice in this way—or ever could. She had surmised the reason why people may be charmed by it, but she knew Darius's respect was different than a mere appreciation.
Darius was infatuated with the voice—or better yet—the singer and its tale.
Even if he didn't say it, there was something about Darius's fantasy about the voice that had always piqued her as odd.
Try as he might, Darius always showed her how to listen to the voice in a new light just like now, but she still didn't change her opinion of it.
In the end, just like always, Darius could tell that she wasn't as interested in the topic as he was, so he dropped it. Instead he said, "Just … let me have a few more minutes, please. I'll close the windows before I sleep."
She couldn't fault Darius for wanting to appraise the beauty of the voice, everyone had their reasons, but still—this was a business and she can't compromise the security of her patrons. So she suggested, "Just ten more minutes. After that, if I still hear it this loud coming from your direction, I'm cutting you off."
Darius tried to say something in return but she butted in before he could, "I care about you Darius… I care about you as though you're my son."
She changed her caring tone to something more strict, which was uncharacteristic of her. The stress of the night and the voice was weighing her down and she no longer feared trying to confront him, "But this… Look at me, okay? This isn't healthy."
Darius knew what she meant. He was always obsessing over the voice—living in the past. Even if he never told her what it meant to him it's not like she didn't know. She could tolerate him speaking about it… but he took it too far when he tried to open the window. It's not like he hasn't done this before—but all the other times he was just never caught…
"I… I know. Blame it on the alcohol tonight."
"As long as you close it in a few minutes."
With that, she let out an exasperated sigh, mumbled under her breath how Darius would be the death of her, and rumbled his hair before going back out into the hall. As Darius watched the door close behind her, he turned his attention back to the darkness.
Eventually, his ten minutes were up and his eyes started to betray him. Before Dileena could even file a complaint, Darius cut off the voice and secured the windows. It would continue to wail for a few more hours, as was the pattern every night, but tonight Darius couldn't afford to listen any longer or else he might lose his job and his home. It's only been six years since he's lived here, and although he and his manager were close, she still wouldn't hesitate to cut him off if he got her business into any trouble.
Blowing out the candle, Darius hummed the rest of the tune to himself and got ready for the night. It seems he would sleep soundly again after listening to the Devil's lullaby.