12.Oct.20, 12:00 AM
"Since I was twelve turns," she replied easily. "Still an apprentice but apparently good enough to send to Telgar."
Her slim, lightly gloved hands tuck the map away in a pocket and stay there as she moved fluidly, following the map in her head. She grimaced a little.
"I do love it, really, but seven turns is a long time to wait for my journeyknots. I've been waiting for them my whole life, it seems. I can fix broken instruments better than new, compose, and--" Meryem waves if off rather than launch into the whole sharding mess. She opens the door to her rooms soon enough and takes a look around.
Larger than her quarters at the Hall, lots of space, organised. Her trunk and instruments have been settled neatly at the foot of her bed. Well done. She'd be worried about that. With care, she moved to get the gitar out. The pegs that allowed for tuning had been turned into little flames and the grain of the wood was whorled with a few different colors or wood.
She turned it carefully in her hands and determined it had not been harmed by the voyage, her fingers brushing over an etching of dragons fighting thread - a copy of an old tapestry she had seen many turns ago and reproduced. It had been painstakingly etched and burned, then sanded and polished. A small ruby had been inlaid above the fighting dragons and glittered in the light of the glows.
Meryem ran through an easy flurry of notes and sat at the edge of the furs, waving vaguely to a chair. She did not need her pick for this, it was all fingerwork and chords.
"Now, flying songs, easy to keep in the mind, correct?" Meryem asked quietly, settling into her element.
Her slim, lightly gloved hands tuck the map away in a pocket and stay there as she moved fluidly, following the map in her head. She grimaced a little.
"I do love it, really, but seven turns is a long time to wait for my journeyknots. I've been waiting for them my whole life, it seems. I can fix broken instruments better than new, compose, and--" Meryem waves if off rather than launch into the whole sharding mess. She opens the door to her rooms soon enough and takes a look around.
Larger than her quarters at the Hall, lots of space, organised. Her trunk and instruments have been settled neatly at the foot of her bed. Well done. She'd be worried about that. With care, she moved to get the gitar out. The pegs that allowed for tuning had been turned into little flames and the grain of the wood was whorled with a few different colors or wood.
She turned it carefully in her hands and determined it had not been harmed by the voyage, her fingers brushing over an etching of dragons fighting thread - a copy of an old tapestry she had seen many turns ago and reproduced. It had been painstakingly etched and burned, then sanded and polished. A small ruby had been inlaid above the fighting dragons and glittered in the light of the glows.
Meryem ran through an easy flurry of notes and sat at the edge of the furs, waving vaguely to a chair. She did not need her pick for this, it was all fingerwork and chords.
"Now, flying songs, easy to keep in the mind, correct?" Meryem asked quietly, settling into her element.