2. Ameriden
Ameriden
Dumpling was barking.
The poor guy tended to bark whenever Ameriden Perzar had to transfer him to his traveling case, but today he appeared to be particularly fussy. His complaints constant as Ameriden laid a damp cloth over Dumpling’s grumpy body.
“I know, I know, you hate traveling,” Ameriden said, running his fingers over his wet, leathery back in a comforting matter.
Dumpling’s eyes were obscured by the cloth, but Ameriden could feel the stare of the small stingray.
It reeked of judgment and disapproval, but he was willing to endure it if it meant traveling safely with his pet.
Carefully, Ameriden reached for Dumpling’s traveling case—a large glass bowl encased with gold for the base and top.
Once the lid came free, Ameriden plucked the small stingray from the water jug and delicately deposited him into his case.
He pulled the cloth away, securing the lid, even as Dumpling continued to stare at him.
“I’m not leaving you on the Firesong Isles with people we don’t know,” Ameriden argued, tossing the cloth back into the water jug at his feet. “Last time we did that, your tank was filthy and you hadn’t been taken to the ocean the entire time.”
I’m arguing with my pet, Ameriden thought with a soft laugh.
It wasn’t the weirdest thing Ameriden had ever done.
The weirdest thing award went to the time he performed on top of an active volcano.
As a water hanfen, the experience had been particularly dicey.
Ameriden felt the water in his heart nearly dry up from the heat, had sweat so much as he strummed his lute and swayed his hips to the music.
By the time the crowd screamed for an encore, the event organizers had to stall for half an hour while they recovered their water resources.
“My boys are never doing that again,” Seira swore, then again in dwarven. “That was a liability and you know it. We will be taking an extra twenty percent for reckless endangerment, thank you very much.”
The sharp tongue of Seira Redborn was what made her the best manager a bard could ask for.
Sadly, just because a bard could sing, dance, and tell stories didn’t mean having people in your corner.
Ameriden heard the horror stories back in college.
How some bard managers only cared about the fame and connections they could make to enhance their own careers.
Seira hadn’t been like that. She spoke plainly when they had approached her years ago, two newly graduated bards with nothing to their name but a lute, a handful of songs, and a dream.
The dwarf woman took one look at them, explained the facts of the business plainly—including all the pitfalls—and when she hadn’t scared them away, Seira signed both of them.
“You made it impossible not to,” she said once over dinner and ale. “You both got the look for this business.”
Ameriden wasn’t ignorant to the fact that he was attractive.
A good chunk of his career relied on how good he looked without a shirt on.
Medium-dark cyan skin stretched over rock solid muscles that Ameriden gained without any of the scars warriors wore.
He kept his blue-green hair cropped short, giving the crowd a clear view of his dark blue eyes.
A sharp grin was almost always plastered across his face, eyebrows arched whenever he caught the eye of a fan and held it.
Dressed in tight fitted pants that Seira sometimes had to sew him into and a lute across his naked chest, Ameriden could tell from the screaming crowd he wasn’t just attractive.
He was grossly hot.
More power to Seira for recognizing it because honestly? Getting me topless was probably the best move we could have made, Ameriden thought as he slung his lute over his back.
Ameriden was dressed a lot more conservatively for traveling. More layers meant there was less of a chance of fans recognizing him. Glamour charms also helped, but anyone carrying an instrument and who could hum was usually recognized as being potentially famous.
Humming a quick tune under his breath, Ameriden felt the magic expel from his breath and release around him.
The glamour of the spell concealed his hanfen ancestry and replaced it with an elfish one with long blond hair and green eyes.
Just as the spell was completed, the front door to the villa jerked open.
Seira briskly walked in, clutching a scroll in one hand and a small travelers pack in the other.
The Firesong Isles had littered her face with freckles during their two week hiatus, but the dwarven woman looked healthy and her makeup was spotless.
Her red hair perfectly styled in waves down her back.
The thick sideburns that connected to the sparse chin hair was curled, littered with gold beads.
She lifted a nail, sharp points directed right at his face when she caught sight of him.
“You better be Amer or I swear, I’ll beat your head within an inch of your life for trespassing on private property!” Seira barked.
“Jeez, cut me some slack!” Ameriden rolled his eyes. “I’m a bard, not helpless.”
“Says the bard who continues to get jump scared by fans,” Seira retorted.
“It’s not my fault,” Ameriden frowned, the illusion of his elf facade’s thin lips nearly disappearing. “They keep using magic.”
“Which is why we shouldn’t linger here. The carriage is waiting, the majority of your luggage has already arrived at the pier.
As soon as we leave, I’ll be sending in some cleaners and divine workers to check for stowaways.
” Seira explained. “But we need to hurry. There’s a crowd at the pier already, let’s move. ”
Ameriden grabbed Dumpling’s traveling case, tucking it beneath his arm like a cannonball. He made it one step before pausing, biting his lip.
“And did—”
“He’s already at the pier,” Seira assured. “I managed to sneak him on earlier.”
The bard nodded, tightening his hold on Dumpling, and followed Seira toward the carriage. It was just decorative enough to prove its weight in gold, but not enough to draw so much attention. A judge or political figure—but not a celebrity. Bards were notorious for their lavish lifestyles.
The undercover work was part of the lifestyle as well.
At least, it was when you had the kind of fame that Cashmere Fantasy did.
Bard’s typically worked solo, maybe with some musicians who didn’t have access to spell work.
It made sense, most bards were self obsessed—not necessarily a bad thing in Ameriden’s opinion, but he digressed—and preferred not to share the spotlight.
But Ameriden had never been like that.
He enjoyed sharing the stage with his partner. Enjoyed creating music, singing nonsensical lyrics over and over again until they were sick of hearing the words. Being on stage was fine, but it could never compare to sharing it with—
Seira knocked, indicating for the driver to move the horses. The lurch of the carriage brought Ameriden back into his body, and he nestled Dumpling’s temporary home closer to him.
“The itinerary for the ship is pretty standard,” Seira said, as she opened her pack and pulled out a bit of parchment.
Reaching into her leather vest, she pulled a pair of spectacles and placed them on her round nose.
“The ship comes courtesy of King Oryin’vel’s royal fleet, so we won’t have to worry about any theft or overzealous fans.
We’ll travel for two days, then the ship will make one stop in the Chroma Coast before heading toward Vyrthsalis… ”
Ameriden nodded, though he stopped paying attention to his manager as he stared out of the window.
It was difficult to concentrate when traveling, especially midday on the Firesong Isles.
A series of islands with several active volcanoes east of the Chroma Coast. The islands were said to be one of the ancestral homes of the fire hanfen—and true to the history, the islands were primarily made up of fire and earth hanfen.
Humans, elves, and aldagos made up the rest of the denizens and the islands were rarely quiet.
Locals traveled to the beach for fishing, others traveled in search of merchants.
Children filtered through the crowds without a care in the world and for a moment, Ameriden wondered what it might have been like.
His own childhood hadn’t been…ordinary by any means.
In fact, it was partially due to his upbringing that he even had his current physique.
So much time had been invested into his appearance, and all for a singular purpose that made his stomach churn at the thought.
“—hey…Ameriden? Are you listening to me?”
“All the time.” Ameriden shot Seira a crooked grin.
The woman rolled her eyes, running her nails along the interior wall of the carriage. It was one of Seira’s many tells that Ameriden had used to his advantage. As a bard, it was important to be able to read a room. To understand how to play an audience was as vital as knowing which key to play.
“You have something face,” Seira said, eyeing his glamour. “Which is saying something considering this isn’t even your face. What’s wrong?”
Had he really been that lost in thought that his own fake face betrayed him?
If I’m going to crack in front of anyone, it might as well be Seira.
Ameriden pushed his broad shoulders back against the seat of the carriage. He turned his tired eyes toward Dumpling, observing the lazy turns the stingray made inside his temporary enclosure.
“I’m worried about him.”
Seira didn’t need to ask who him was. There was only one person Ameriden ever thought about. And that person wasn’t at his side because…
“I know,” Seira replied with a tired sigh. “I offered to extend your vacation into a three month hiatus but Casi… well, you know.”
Oh, did Ameriden know.
Casimine Moonsong was the other half of Cashmere Fantasy, the bardic duo of music and story.
While Ameriden held the stage with his body, melodies, and string playing skills, Casi was responsible for the aesthetics, lyrics, and singing.
And fuck, could Casi sing. Even their harshest critics had said Casi sounded like he’d been blessed by the gods.
Only one god could gift the fellow water hanfen with such a beautiful voice.
There had been much debate about who, but Ameriden knew who was responsible.
The Water Mother—the goddess that hung in the shadow of Eluthka every night and the one true mother of all water hanfen.
She was calm shores, clear blue oceans, and life giving water itself.
Ameriden wasn’t religious per say—at least not in the way that was expected of someone with his history and background.
But it was impossible to deny the Water Mother’s power every time Casi’s lips would part and that gorgeous voice would sing stories of tragedy and love.
It makes sense this happened, Ameriden thought. The denizens of this world are selfish. Of course they would want him for themselves.
“There’s still time,” Seira continued. “We don’t have to get back on the ship once we hit the Chroma Coast. We can rent one of the beach homes, you and Casi can rest, and I can send a message with the ship crew that you got food poisoning.”
“No,” Ameriden shook his head. “We should keep to the schedule. Casi wouldn’t want to cancel such a big event.”
“Amer,” Seira brushed a lock of red hair behind her ear, training her knowing stare at him, “I know it’s been hard.
I’ve seen the way the road has been treating you both.
You don’t have to keep doing this. I told you, I’m happy to handle whatever backlash that might come our way if you and Casi were to—”
“Cashmere Fantasy exists because Casi and I know how to walk the line,” Ameriden said. “We can harmonize, we can dance on stage and flirt… but we can’t be more than that.”