The cold drifted in from the north. The nights grow longer as Gela, the goddess of dawn was pulled into the arms of her paramour to keep warm for a few extra moments. Alous, the god of dusk held his lover tight allowing Tilous, the king of winter to usher in his troops. The legion of ice marched through the mortal realm, making the journey of calmion every year, brushing past souls and leaving a frigid cold in its wake.
With winter's wake, time slowly marched on. Every eight days pious individuals attend church. Once at night and the next in the early morning. Sixteen gods, eight reside in Paeneya guiding new souls into the world, and eight reside in Ibaris ushering souls on to the next life. The pantheon of sixteen gods. A day dedicated to each one in the harnios calendar.
*****
Anelle pulled her cloak tightly around her shoulders with her free hand. She pushed open the outer door to the workshop and braced for the bitterly cold winter winds. Strands of hair came loose from her braid and whipped around her forehead. She walked round to the sheltered lean-to on the outside of the workshop. The wagon was placed at the front of the alley between the houses to give some respite from the wind. Anelle walked behind it and fiddled with the ice cold metal to unlock the gate.
"Lile, Lile." Anelle called in a higher pitched sing-song voice.
The tilk was lying up against the back of the shelter. Her short curly coat blended in with the hay. She lay perfectly still. The first morning Anelle had come out to feed her she had been terrified Lile had frozen overnight.
Anelle lifted the bucket and dumped the vegetable peelings and food scraps onto the ground. Lile's pointy ears twitched and her snout sniffed the air. Hay was scattered into the air as she sprung to life. Anelle loved watching her little hops as she came over and tucked into breakfast. Lile lifted her head as she ate, the heat from her breath was warm against Anelle's leg. She embedded her hands into Lile's curly locks and scratched behind her ears. Lile made a low groan and leaned into her fingers.
Even with Lile's warmth, Anelle's fingers were beginning to turn blue from the cold. She patted the small tilk on the top of her head and walked over to the gate. Lile watched through the wooden slats. Anelle gave her one last scratch under the chin and walked back towards the workshop.
The wind howled and wrestled against the door as Anelle pulled it shut. It took all her strength and body weight to stop it from flying open again. She slid the bolt across and leaned against the door as she caught her breath.
The gentle notes of a violin drifted through the house and passed the open door of the workshop. Anelle paused as she placed the bucket back in the pantry. Klin and Tiione had accompanied Emera to the market that morning to get supplies and still weren't back. Emera had let Kae sleep in as the attic had sprung a leak in the middle of the night and soaked him in freezing cold water.
The sounds of the violin continued with a set of scales. Anelle quietly peeked into the living room. Kae stood facing the hearth with a violin under his chin. The fire's orange light reflected off of his dark hair and eyes. He played another set of scales in a higher pitch. His brows were pulled together, his lips thinned, in concentration.
Anelle watched in silence. She felt horrible ease dropping but her curiosity got the better of her. Klin and Tiione often tested the violins and lutes in the evening, making sure they were ready to sell, but Kae never played.
He finished another set of scales and nodded. He placed his fingers in first position. He played the first note. On the second the bow bounced against the strings sending out nervous jitters. He lifted the bow and straightened his shoulders. He took a breath and closed his eyes for a moment. His eyes opened with new confidence as he started again. The bow graced the strings in long sweeping arcs. His confidence grew and the velvety notes filled the entire house.
Anelle's breath hitched as the sound consumed her thoughts. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the music. A beautiful song filled with passion and longing. Her chest swelled with joy.
She gasped as it abruptly stopped.
Kae let out a string of curses.
He signed and tried the note again. He moved his fingers from first to third position. His face was contorted in frustration as he did another set of scales. He practised the jump from first to third position.
Anelle was seeing a vulnerable part of him he hid from the world, all his anger and frustration. He always looked composed and relaxed in everyday life; everything he did seemed to come naturally to him. Anelle felt vile for inadvertently spying on him. If she didn't want to be discovered, her only option was to head back into the freezing workshop. She considered it for a moment but her fingers were still red.
Kae started the song again. The deep notes sang out, with a slow tempo. The air transformed with the sound. Kae relaxed his shoulders as he played the next section. The ghost of a smile traced his lips as he played through the jump. The tempo picked up with a passion. The music thickened as the chords layered one after the other.
The front door opened. Kae immediately stopped playing.
Emera walked in and handed Anelle a bag filled with vegetables. "Anelle, here, can you put these away?"
Anelle looked over at Kae as she took the bag. He looked back at her in shock, his cheeks flushed. He hastily looked away. She felt terrible as she walked towards the pantry.
Klin and Tiione carried in four planks of wood and laid them on the dining table.
"The violin is good to sell." Kae mumbled. He placed the violin down.
*****
The bitter cold of full winter brought everyone inside. The house felt smaller. A constant fire roared in the hearth. The dining table became a revolving station of activity. After the morning meal the table was transformed, first laid out with deep crimson fabrics and cut to strange shapes. Emera demonstrated each cut before handing Anelle the scissors. She then cleared the floor and rolled out black fabric to do the same. Anelle folded and laid out the fabric for another lot to be cut. The cloth was soft and velvety to the touch.
The women finished cutting just before midday. Emera placed a small pot of water over the hearth in the living room. She added smaller sticks to the fire, encouraging the embers to feast on the new wood then topped off with a larger log to keep alive. The flames sprung to life crackling and popping. Emera grabbed three ceramic cups from the kitchen and handed them to Anelle. With a metal spoon she carefully ladled the boiling water into the cup. Anelle took the cup expecting the feet to hurt but only felt a slight warmth. Emera looked at the girl's hands, her eyes wide in concern. She fervently pointed at the table behind them.
"Down… table." Emera took the hot cup from her hands. She took Anelle's hands in hers looking over them. She traced the lines of her palms and down each finger. Anelle looked at her hands as well, confused. Emera's hands were calloused from years of hard work and bright red from the heat of the cup.
"I… good." Anelle awkwardly smiled, trying to reassure her. Emera took one more look at her hands before releasing her.
Emera went back to the other two cups and filled them. This time Anelle put them down on the table as soon as they were handed to her.
The door to the workshop creaked on its hinges, followed by hastened footsteps. Tiione rushed in, holding out his hands towards the fire. Kae and Klin followed shortly after. Emera lightly touched the hot cups before grabbing hold of two and handing them to Tiione and Kae. Anelle picked up the last and handed it to Klin, since their first meeting he had slowly started to warm to her. He nodded his thanks and held the cup in his hands, warming his frozen fingers. The boys sat by the fire warming up as Anelle and Emera prepared the table for midmeal.
Once the meal was consumed and cleared the table transformed anew. Anelle helped Tiione bring in a multitude of curved boxes from the workshop. A wall of cold air hit Anelle square in the face as she entered. The room had once been part of the street, three wooden walls kept out the biting wind but did little else for warmth.
The boxes were brought to the table one at a time. Anelle watched as Emera used an old brush with bristles long stuck together, to smear glue across the inside of the box. The curved box had a long skinny end that billowed out into a round bottom, the perfect shape for a violin. The inside had smooth curves and indents to perfectly hold a violin or lute. With a thin layer of glue covering the inside surfaces Emera picked up one of the red pieces of cloth Anelle cut that morning and laid it on the box. She started at the edge gently caressing the fabric into the right spots.
Emera looked up at her, a slight smile on her lips, inviting her to try the next. Anelle opened her mouth but closed it again. This wouldn't be the same as learning to do the washing or peeling vegetables. If the fabric or the box were ruined it would be a far more costly mistake.
"Come." Emera said, in her motherly tone, beckoning Anelle over to her side of the table.
Emera picked up a new box and placed it in front of Anelle. Emera stood behind her, leaning over her shoulder. She picked up the paint brush and handed it to Anelle with a nod of encouragement. Anelle began painting a thin layer of glue across the box. Emera picked up the red fabric and lined it up with the edge. She held Anelle's hand and guided her through the motions of smoothing the fabric, teasing it into place. Anelle was slow and her fingers light but picked up confidence as she went, adding more pressure. Emera tweaked a couple edges to complete the task.
"Good, very good." Emera's smile reached her eyes. "You should be proud!"
"Thank you." Anelle smiled at the praise, unsure of the last part of the sentence. A feeling of warmth filled her chest.
The next box Anelle did by herself under Emera's watch. Only a slight mistake was made with the angle but Emera managed to pick up the edge and adjust before the glue dried. Satisfied with her work Emera handed her the next box and moved on to finishing the first with black fabric on the outside. They continued working side by side until the winter sun dipped below the horizon towards its early bed.
Anelle enjoyed working. Being a small part of creating something and having a purpose each day. The closest thing she had experienced in the past was embroidery. At first she enjoyed creating bright colourful designs but that quickly changed. Embroidery wasn't about creative expression, it was about critiquing other women. Your colour choice reflected your ability to decorate a future husband's house. A stitch out of place was a sign of slovenly behaviour unbecoming of a lady. It was about tearing each other down to feel better about yourself. This was different, they failed or succeeded together.
That evening Kae brought down his books again and continued going through basic words and phrases. Anelle had memorised the alphabet by symbols and sounds. She was getting better at recognizing them and reading phonetically but still struggled to connect meaning to some words. It often ended with an elaborate game of charades, with Kae walking around the room, using cups and wooden spoons as props. That night Kae had a metal bowl upturned on his head and a broom outstretched in front of him as he galloped round the room. Anelle was bent double, laughing. Tiione was laughing as well, ignoring his brothers' pleas for help.
Klin walked in from the workshop holding two wooden violins and chuckled at the scene before him. Emera followed and laughed at the confusion.
"What exactly are you trying to do?" She asked through her amusement.
"I'm trying to illustrate what the Riane games are." Kae responded standing with his chest puffed out, staying in character.
"Oh I see," Emera let out another chuckle, "well if the games come back to Athon in a few years you can show her. But for now I don't think it matters if she understands the sport of nobles riding around on horses picking up laurels."
"You have a point there." Kea said. He turned back to Anelle, lifted the bowl off his head and took a deep bow before putting the utensils back in the kitchen.
Klin took a seat by the fire and handed one of the violins to Tiione. He rested the bottom of the violin on his leg and began gently plucking each string, adjusting the peg at the top as he went. Tiione, his every watchful shadow mimicked him with the other violin. Klin reached over, instructing him on what sound to listen for.
Anelle watched Klin teaching Tiione, his soft and caring tone brought a pang of jealousy to her chest. She pushed the ugly feeling aside but couldn't stop thoughts of her own childhood. The way her father was absent. Once she reached the age of sixteen the only conversation she ever had with him was about potential husbands. Can it be called a conversation if she was only permitted to listen? She thought. What could her life have been like if her father had been more caring? Would she miss him?
Klin raised the instrument to his shoulder and smoothed down his beard before placing the bow on the strings. He ran the bow across each string, getting a feel for how she sounded. Starting at the lowest note, the bow gilded back and forth in sharp quick movements before moving up to the next note. Satisfied with her voice Klin brought his fingers on to the strings and played a few cords. His eyes closed; focused entirely on the sound. A smile twinged at the edge of his lips as he began to play. The notes began slow and long with quick playful interludes. The long notes quickening, warming up like two dancers entwined. The first unsure, taking slow graceful movements, their partner's devilish charm pulling her in. A dance. A fight. Neither one willing to give in to the other. The dancers circled round and round. The notes got faster and faster. Rising and falling as the pair circled one another.
Klin's eyes were closed. His fingers played each note like they were a part of him. His true voice. The violin was an extension of his body. A sound more powerful than any words.
The dancers collided and separated as they fought. Every step was crucial. Neither willing to give up the fight. The rise of the crescendo. Hearts beating fast.
Silence.
The room sat completely still as if the air had left it. Anelle felt her eyes glazing over, she blinked to keep back tears.
For a brief moment she was back in her youth sitting in an old concert hall next to her family. Different musicians had been playing for hours and she sat bored listening to old music played note by note. The last person to walk on stage was a young boy close to twelve years old. He had a round face and short black hair. He stood on the stage alone, no accompaniment nor music stand, just the boy and his violin in a sea of black. Having heard the same five old musical pieces many times that evening Anelle was bored and had taken to analysing the paintings on the theatre's ceiling. The first couple notes were played perfectly. Anelle recognised Antonise Klue's concerto again and rolled her eyes. The boy was stiff with nerves. The next note was shaky but he took a breath and closed his eyes. His whole body relaxed and he played like no other that night. The violin sang. The boy had found a way to make the notes his own. The story of a lonely man wandering the earth came to life through this boy's music. Each note coming from the soul, never to be played the same way again. The same passion and talent that Klin had for his beloved violins.
It was beautiful.
Emera clapped into the silence, breaking the tension. Smiling one of her warmest smiles. Anelle slowly brought her hands to join in with the applause.
Klin swapped the violin with Tiione's and began plucking the strings to tune it. Tiione stood and began his own set of scales. Then moved onto cords, which Klin had to correct his finger for one.
"Now I am ready." Tiione said.
His piece was longer but just as playful. He kept a medium tempo with the notes bouncing off the strings. As he played, Klin walked over to the cabinet next to Anelle and pulled out a rectangular stool from under it. He lifted the shelf to reveal a set of white keys underneath. Anelle was dumb founded. She had never seen a pianoforte that small before. Granted she had only ever seen two, the grand piano she grew up playing and the one at the theatre.
Klin played softly at first. Then he began to build his notes rivalling Tiione's. From her seat Anelle could see Klin had a mischievous smile poking through his beard. Tiione responded, taking back control of the melody, enthralled by his father he played with even more passion, making the violin purr in a way only known to him. Klin's smile only grew, he tried again changing the tune but Tiione was ready. He played with the piano both instruments harmonising together before contrasting for the final crescendo. Klin tapered off, letting Tiione take centre stage. The final bars washed over the room before falling to silence.
Klin clapped the loudest as Tiione stood and took an over dramatic bow, a smile plastered across his face.
Emera stood and took the violin next. She played well but it was evident she did not possess the same raw talent as her husband and son.
Anelle looked over at Kae. He forced a sad smile. She recognized a familiar longing in his eyes. She remembered watching her half sister, Thea, take centre stage at her own coming of age ball. Anelle reached over and placed her hand on his. He looked up at her. For a moment his eyes were filled with unguarded pain and jealousy.
He shook his head and rebuilt his walls, smiling and clapping the loudest.
The winter nights continued in the same way, most filled with music and laughter. Some nights the neighbours would come over and join them. Many were filled with singing as well. Anelle was unsure of the words but most of the people couldn't sing a single note in tune.
She noticed that Kae loved the attention and leading the room in song. But he never played.