Marching Bard

'Finally, peace and quiet...' I said to myself after my twins and wife have passed asleep. As much as I love Litick, Hilda, and Aiamada, there's been moments I feel like I can't have time for myself. In my household, there's always: "Dad, can we do something together, just you and me?", or "Daddy, let's go play," or "Jorfy, do this for me." It's always something of someone asking more out of me, and I'm just tired. So much so, I want just to be myself for once and now's that time. After a full hour and no sleep on my part, I decided to quietly head to my study room.

Upon arrival, it's just how I left it (roughly a month ago). Everything was still in place so that last time I had with my twins worked like a charm, after the hundredth time... Inside of my personal office, I had all of the essentials a dwarf like me needed for an office.

I had a mini desk at the corner of the room by the window, filled with mini assortments along with a mini chair pulled in (I have a pet peeve when someone doesn't push in their chair). Also acquired a futon that was a bit big for a dwarf, but I hardly get enough sleeping space thanks to my dear Aiamada hogging up the bed (please don't tell her I said that).

Across the office, I even had my own closet of which was filled with all sorts of clothes that I used to attire as a Bard (how long has it been now since I last worn those; it honestly feels like a century ago). Amongst the wall between the futon and closet was my bookshelf, I had books upon books of musical archives that Rissindell and other countries proved along with my own journals of such discovery and adventures. However, on top of the bookshelf (which isn't too high for me, considering it's a dwarven bookshelf of 4 feet tall) was my old tenor drum...

"Now, are you a sight to see," I said this as I touched it delicately as if it would disappear in front of me. I grabbed gently, pulled in my chair and cleared some of the dust that was saturating due to the lack of not being in this room for an entire month (cause responsibilities of course, yay). After cleaning the dust off of my drum, I then polish it for old time sake. It's been quite a bit too since I last did this. I polished it for a good ten to fifteen minutes and then I just placed it down in front of me and sat there in complete silence.

I honestly don't remember the last time, it's been this quiet in the household. Usually it would be someone or something (the family wiener dog: Oskar) would make such noise. However, it seems like everyone is caught in a sleeping spell of which I ain't complaining one bit; I'm just surprised it's all.

I sat down on my stool, looking at the drum in front of me. And before I realized it, I was talking to it.

"How long has it been, my old friend?"

The drum provided with no answer.

I continued: "I think it must have been when the twins were born..."

Again, no answer came from the inanimate object.

I resumed: "No, it couldn't be that long, right? I must have been when the twins were five..."

Once again, the drum just remains a simple drum. If only, inanimate objects could talk. I'm sure they will have words to say.

"What am I even doing? I'm sitting here in my office, talking to a blasted drum. I wanted silence in this house and now, I got it. But what else is there that doesn't satisfy me?"

As if, it spoke, I looked at my drum with clarity. I needed to play. I need to play now. But it's late at night and I don't want to wake up the others. How was I going to play my drum in the middle of the night? I think long and hard about it, until I had an epiphany. We live close by a forest that's literally in our backyard. Surely, I can go there and play my drum to my heart's content!

Without hesitation, I grabbed my drum and carried it by the strip. I gathered my belongings and placed them in my daily satchel. Before leaving the house, I was contemplating if I should leave a note in case anyone were to wake up while I was gone.

"This shouldn't take too long. I'll be back before anyone notices."

I locked everything and started my walk to the backyard where a forest was calling my name for me to play with my drum. As I approached the forest, I stayed on the given path and walked for a good half mile. I needed to get my steps in but I didn't want to start playing right away. I could be drumming out here earshot for my household to woken up. I need some distance.

"Man, it's been a long while since I traveled this far," I said to myself.

Eventually I came to where I wanted to be, and once I was there, I started to beat my drum. At first, it was rusty cause come on, it's been awhile since I last played my instrument. You try having kids. Your hobbies will have limited time.

I walked as I went at a steady and rhythmic pace. I was my own marching band, a marching bard, if you will. Soon enough, I was in the middle of the forest, in my own world as I played on my trusty drum. It was like having a dance with your old partner. I could feel a smile upon my face as I closed my eyes absorbing this special moment. It honestly made me nostalgic to the point that I couldn't help reminiscing about the good old days when I was a Bard. A Bard before becoming a husband and father. Sometimes, I wonder what my life would have been if I just continued my life as a Bard to the Fanjesters...

It came to a point that I was at the other edge of the forest without even realizing it. Just as I was about to turn around, something caught me in the eye.

A few yards away, was an old lady in front of her parlor, just sitting down giving me a small round of applause. She stands up from where she sat and proclaims: "What a marvelous performance! I never would have expected anyone to give me a show at 1 o'clock in the morning! You have talent, my dear."

Modestly, I go: "Why thank you, mad'am. I haven't played like that in so long. I'm a bit rusty."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. You should play in a band."

"Funny enough, I'm used to..."

"And what happened to that?"

"I made myself a family."

"I see...I see..."

"See what?"

"What if I told you can be back to where you wanted?"

"What ever do you mean by that?"

"There's much to discuss but it's getting rather chilly now. I'm going to make some tea. My name is Syl, what's your name, sweetie?"

"Jorfrikin..."

"A pleasure meeting you. Would you care for some tea?"

I stood thinking about what to do. Should I go into this stranger's parlor? One of whom sees my potential as a performer and is offering me with a nice hot cup of tea. Or should I go back? Where, I can attend to my family and just let things be the way they are. I think you can figure out what I choose. Because after meeting Syl that day, everything in my life changed.