Chapter 20.2.3

Breck bent his head and hands to the task. The notes came out smooth and perfect as he worked through the Cycle of Songs, a set of tunes that marked each stage of a person’s life. Birth was a simple melody with a steady heartbeat, then a long, joyful rise. With a ripple of sound it changed to Growth, a swelling, circular air that slowly became more complex. With Maturity it deepened, moving to a lower register, and then came the fast-paced, giddy dance of Pairing. Livelihood, a sturdy melody with a strong beat, gave way to the whisper of Old Age. Then all the harmonies gathered into a single strand of notes that faded into a soft hum of the strings – Death, and the journey beyond it.

A flawless performance. Breck had indeed worked hard – but his only reward was a stern nod from the Grandmaster. "Now play your original ballad."

With a shaking voice, Breck forced out the title. "Ballad of the Willow Tree." He bowed his head, plucked the harp strings, and sang.

"My name is William Willow –
I am naught but a tree.
I bow my head down o’er this bank
And weep for all to see.

Once – I was a true man
With a heart and hands and eyes;
But now I’m rooted to this soil
With a pain that never dies.

I had myself a maiden,
Fair Bridgett was her name.
But I was just a toy to her,
For loving was her game."

The ballad went on to tell William’s tragic story. He had loved his Bridgett so much that he had bragged about her to all he met, and even traveled into the Eastern Green Forest to tell the trees. There he met a tall man in a dark cloak who laughed at his story and told him that no woman ever truly loves a man. William claimed that his Bridgett was different; the stranger replied that the woman would be in the arms of another when William left the forest. Taking offense, William had called the man a liar, and said that on his soul he would prove his Bridgett to be true. At this the man threw off his cloak and revealed himself to be Oberon, lord of the Herart of the Eastern Green Forest. He then offered a bargain: if Bridgett did indeed prove true, then William could return and fill his hat with jewels and silver, but if Bridgett was false, then William was to lose his soul and belong to the forest forever. William agreed, then left the forest in search of his true love. But:

"I saw her with the iron-smith’s son
Embracing by the river;
Her took her face between his hands
And then he sweetly kissed her.

And then he pulled his knife out
And stepped up to a tree;
With swift, deep strokes he carved their names
Inside a heart – on me.

My name is William Willow –
I am naught but a tree.
I bow my head down o’er this bank
And weep for all to see."

An interesting idea, carefully played, but the tune was stiff and unremarkable. And long – Master Iving wasn’t the only one to blink himself awake at the end.

Grandmaster Meiltung did not comment on it, however. He only closed his eyes, then recited, as if from memory, "For everything there is a purpose. What is the purpose of failure?"