The backyard of the guild hall was quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of the crescent moon. Crickets chirped in the distance, their melody blending with the faint rustle of leaves. Krucose sat on a weathered bench, his lute resting on his lap. Beside him was a worn book titled The Ballads of the Wandering Bard, its pages filled with ancient, forgotten songs.
He plucked the strings, testing a melody that resonated with an unfamiliar sweetness. Slowly, the notes flowed together into a romantic tune, one that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand untold stories.
As he played, Seria wandered past the guild hall's back door. The melody froze her in her tracks. Her blue flames, normally steady, flickered brighter within the lantern she carried. Drawn by the sound, she followed it, her heart beating faster with each step.
She stopped when she saw him, bathed in moonlight, eyes closed as his fingers danced over the strings of his lute. The song was tender, unlike anything she'd heard before. She stayed hidden, leaning against a tree as she listened, not wanting to disturb him.
But Krucose opened his eyes mid-song and froze when he saw her. His nose turned a deep shade of red, and his ears tinged pink.
"You—" He fumbled with the lute, nearly dropping it.
"You were there this whole time?"
Seria stifled a laugh, her lips curving into a teasing smile. "No," she said, clearly lying.
"I just got here."
Krucose's embarrassment only deepened. "Oh, really? Then why do I feel like I've been spied on?"
"Spied on?" Seria stepped closer, her lantern casting a soft glow.
"Please, don't flatter yourself. I was just curious. What was that song? It's beautiful."
He glanced at the open book beside him, then back at her.
"It's from this old bard's book. I thought I'd try it out. I didn't think anyone would be listening."
"Well," she said, sitting on the bench beside him,
"now you've got an audience. Play it again."
Krucose hesitated, his fingers hovering over the strings.
"What? No way. It's embarrassing now."
"Oh, come on," she said, nudging him with her shoulder.
"You were already playing it when you thought no one was around. What's the difference?"
"Everything!" he blurted. "It's one thing to play for myself. It's another thing to have someone... watching."
Seria chuckled.
"You've faced pirates and fought with legendary will energy, but you're scared of performing for one person?"
"That's different!" he protested.
"Battles don't require... emotion. This is... personal."
Her laughter softened into a warm smile.
"I think that's why it's worth sharing. Play it for me, Krucose. Please."
He sighed, his nervousness melting a little under her kind gaze. "Fine. But if you laugh, I'm never playing for you again."
Seria held up her hands in mock surrender. "Promise. No laughing."
Krucose began to play again, the melody even more tender this time. Seria closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. When he finished, there was a moment of silence between them, broken only by the night's ambient sounds.
"That was... amazing," Seria said softly.
"Really?" He looked at her, his expression both hopeful and doubtful.
She nodded. "I mean it. You have a gift, Krucose. And not just with your music. You have this way of making people feel... safe. Like they can let their guard down around you."
Krucose tilted his head. "You let your guard down? You're one of the strongest people I know."
Seria laughed lightly. "Strength isn't just about fighting, you know. It's about trust. And you..." She paused, searching for the right words. "You make it easy to trust you. Maybe it's because you're so genuine. Or maybe it's because you're just... you."
Krucose's nose turned red again, and he scratched the back of his head. "I don't know what to say to that."
"You don't have to say anything," she said. "I just wanted you to know."
There was a pause before Krucose spoke again, his voice hesitant. "What about you? You got comfortable with me and Gulpy so fast. Why?"
Seria looked up at the moon, her lantern's light flickering softly.
"I've always been part of the guild, but it's a lonely life sometimes. People see me as the guild master's daughter first, and as Seria second. I guess I've always been looking for people who see me for who I really am, not just who I'm supposed to be."
Krucose frowned. "That sounds... rough."
"It was, a little," she admitted.
"But then I met you two. Gulpy with his ridiculous humor, and you with your... unique charm." She smirked, making him laugh nervously. "You don't treat me differently because of who my father is. You just treat me like Seria. And that means a lot."
Krucose nodded, his gaze softening. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you're pretty amazing. Not because you're the guild master's daughter, but because... you're you."
Seria smiled, touched by his sincerity. "Thank you, Krucose."
Before either of them could say more, a familiar voice cut through the quiet.
"Well, ain't this a touching sight?"
They turned to see Gulpy leaning against the doorway, his bulky frame silhouetted by the light from inside the guild hall. His jolly grin was back, but his eyes held a hint of fondness.
"Gulpy!" Krucose said, jumping to his feet.
"How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough," the toadfolk said with a chuckle.
"Don't worry, lad. I ain't here to embarrass you... much."
Seria rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Gulpy?"
"Just to say," Gulpy began, stepping closer,
"it's a fine thing to see friendship bloom after a battle like that. New bonds forged in the heat of struggle have a way of sticking. Treasure it, you two."
Krucose and Seria exchanged a glance, both smiling despite themselves.
"Now," Gulpy said, clapping his hands, "you two can keep your heart-to-heart, but don't stay up too late. We've got another quest tomorrow, and you'll need your rest."
With that, he waddled back inside, humming a deep, cheerful tune.
Krucose looked back at Seria, his nervousness fading. "He's not wrong, you know. About the friendship thing."
"No, he's not," Seria agreed.
"Now, about that song... do you know any others?"
Krucose grinned, lifting his lute. "I might. You want to hear another?"
"I'd love to."
And as the night wore on, the sound of music and laughter filled the backyard, weaving a new chapter in their budding friendship.
After the song Krucose's mind wandered as he sat in the backyard under the soft moonlight, Seria's words still ringing in his ears. No one in his past life had treated him like this. As Dan, he was often overlooked a shadow to brighter stars. His music, the one thing he had poured his soul into, was dismissed as a hobby or background noise.
But here in Castoria, it was different. For the first time, someone genuinely appreciated his talent, calling it beautiful. Is this what it feels like to be seen? To be valued? The thought made his chest feel warm, though he also felt a twinge of sadness for the life he'd left behind.
"Hey, Krucose," Seria's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
He blinked and looked at her, still sitting beside him. "Yeah?"
"Do you want to have dinner?" she asked, her tone casual, but her smile carried an unmistakable warmth.
"Dinner? With you?" Krucose's nose turned a deep red, and his voice wavered.
Seria tilted her head with a teasing smile. "Yes, with me. Unless you're too busy practicing your masterpiece, oh great bard."
He stammered, unsure of how to respond. "I just... well, I mean—"
Before he could finish, a booming voice interrupted them from a distance.
"HOW ABOUT ME?"
Both of them turned to see Gulpy leaning out of one of the guild hall windows, his bulky frame barely fitting through the opening. His large, round eyes sparkled with mischief, and his signature grin was plastered across his face.
"GULPY!" Seria shouted, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. "Are you eavesdropping again?"
The toadfolk chuckled heartily. "Me? Eavesdropping? Nah, lass, I just happened to overhear. You know, these ears are sharper than you think!" He pointed to the side of his head, his grin never fading.
"And besides, if food's involved, you know I've gotta be there!"
Krucose groaned, covering his face with his hand.
"This is so embarrassing..."
"Relax, bard," Gulpy said, waving a webbed hand.
"I ain't comin' along just makin' sure you don't forget about ol' Gulpy while you're off having your fancy meal."
Seria rolled her eyes, though a small laugh escaped her lips. "Fine. We'll save you something, okay?"
"Make sure it's something good!" Gulpy called back, resting his chin on his hand as he watched them from the window.
Krucose glanced at Seria, still flustered. "Well, I guess dinner it is?"
She stood and brushed off her skirt, giving him a playful smile. "Come on, bard. Let's go before he decides to join us after all."
Krucose followed her, his lute slung over his shoulder, and the two headed toward the guild hall's dining area. As they walked, Gulpy's laughter echoed behind them, full of warmth and mischief.
"Don't forget about me, you two!" the toadfolk shouted, his voice fading into the night.
Krucose couldn't help but chuckle, his earlier nervousness easing. For the first time in both his lives, he felt something unfamiliar yet comforting a sense of belonging. Maybe this life really is my second chance, he thought as he stepped inside, the night carrying a quiet promise of new beginnings.