When The Bard Came Visiting

Chapter 2

Once, there was a man whose tongue carried magic in every cell. It could weave webs from the simplest words and craft portraits straight from his imagination. But he had not always been a master of his powers.

You see, in his youth, his elders had thought his speech affected, and assigned him tutors and doctors to improve his diction and enouncement. Such was his level of study that his grasp of language rivalled that of most scholars. Yet what had caused this difficulty of speech was not an abnormal mouth nor laziness of wit, but the magic of his tongue itching to break free.

Years passed, and still his power was not allowed the freedom it sought, as the man had been told many times that his words, however clever, meant nothing. In their eyes, he was worthless. And without confidence to break its lock, his magic stayed trapped inside.

Then it happened that one day, when he"d all but given up hope that anyone could truly understand him, he met a woman who also possessed magic. Unlike him, she had already discovered her gift. It was quite different to his, for she could only express her magic through written words.

The man was fascinated by the woman"s writings, enthralled by the wonder they brought forth. He itched to speak with her, and so, forgetting the hurt he"d been dealt by others, approached with a puzzle box containing a precious, rare ink. Twisting and turning it in the right combinations, he opened the box before her, presenting its prize.

With delight, she accepted his gift and together they spent a day talking of secrets neither thought they"d ever share with another person.

So at peace were they that the man"s tongue finally allowed itself to free his magic. It spilled forth, vivid and beautiful, adding rainbows of colour to the surroundings and the fine ink within the pot.

The woman gave a joyful laugh. Seizing her quill, she dipped it into the pot and then wrote:

Sir, your words colour the landscape and make me warm. I feared the winters long chasing me had forever turned me to ice, but you have disproven that. How might I repay you?

Sir, your words colour the landscape and make me warm. I feared the winters long chasing me had forever turned me to ice, but you have disproven that. How might I repay you?The words shimmered as the ink dried, and grew into intricate flowers no bigger than a thumb.

The man smiled, plucking a flower and placing it in her hair, saying, "Let me befriend you so we may always be close. You"ve given me permission to be my truest self. No other has ever done so. You have aided me."

YoumeBoth knew they complemented each other, and though there were times when they had to travel apart, their hearts and minds were always one, and so it was that they worked together to keep wonder present in the world.