The Crystal Bard: A LitRPG Adventure (Kingmaker Saga Book 2)

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  "I'm ready."

  Jondar grew serious. "But I want your assurance that you will follow my directions, no matter what I ask. Becoming a crystal bard is serious business. It can be extremely powerful, but only if you've trained yourself to harness it. Otherwise, it's just a parlor trick."

  After Terran nodded, Jondar led them out of the settlement, meandering down the hill toward the nearby pond, his jovial demeanor returning. Along the path, whenever other elves passed, they waved excitedly to the chubby bard, who shot them playful winks.

  "You've made many friends in your short time here," said Terran.

  Jondar rubbed his belly. "It's easy to make friends when you like to drink and you bring the entertainment." His eyes lit up as he gestured towards a rock the size of a melon. "Could you bring that with us?"

  "Is this for my training?" asked Terran, but Jondar was already further down the slope, humming a ditty and making tiny skips as he strolled. Terran admired the elf's carefree attitude, but he wondered if he'd be an effective enough trainer.

  The rock wasn't so large that he couldn't carry it, especially with the bonus on his new ring, but he couldn't quite figure out how a rock would help him become a better crystal bard. When they reached the edge of the lily-covered pond, Jondar faced him with his hands clasped in front.

  "Give me a G above middle C, rising to an A, and hold it," said Jondar.

  Terran bent his knees to set the rock down, but Jondar shook his meaty finger. "With the rock."

  With Jondar's eyes upon him, Terran sang out, oscillating his pitch until he found his G, then once he received the nod, he let his voice climb until he hit the second note, which he sustained for a short while before his breath gave out.

  His teacher rubbed his chin, squinting in thought. He looked skeptical of the attempt. "You know what the notes are at least, but you sing like a drunk singing bawdy songs at the tavern, all chest and no stamina."

  "Does it really matter?" asked Terran. "Aren't I just belting out sound to convert into a magical effect?"

  Jondar raised an eyebrow, until Terran got the message. "Right. Follow directions. No questions."

  "Excellent," said Jondar. "You're learning already. Now strip out of your leaf armor, pick the rock back up, jump into the pond, and sink to the bottom."

  When Terran's jaw dropped, Jondar took his forefinger and thumb and squeezed his lips to indicate his agreement not to ask questions. After removing his armor and picking up the rock, he waded into the chilly water, sucking in his gut. The pond was shallow around the edges where the lilies grew, but as he neared the center, the bottom dropped out. Terran took a big breath and jumped forward, sinking rapidly with the rock at his gut. He drifted to the bottom of the crystal-clear pond.

  Though the surface wasn't too far away, he watched the sunlight dapple the water from his quiet repose on the floor of the pond. But the ache in his lungs grew until they were burning, and he had to abandon the rock and kick to the surface, sucking in sweet air upon breaching.

  Terran paddled to the edge of the pond, then bent over on his knees as Jondar tapped his chin. "How long do you think you were underwater?"

  "A minute?" asked Terran.

  "Eighteen seconds," said Jondar with a heavy sigh. "It seems you have a lot of work to do with your lung capacity. A good singer must have a huge reserve, because you never know if you're going to be able to take a breath in the song, or spell."

  "What do I need to be at?" asked Terran, shivering slightly in the cool breeze.

  "I can hold my breath for five minutes and twenty-four seconds," said Jondar. "My personal record anyway. Zoras, for all his insufferableness, can hold his for nearly nine minutes."

  "Nine minutes? That short time I was under seemed like a lifetime," said Terran.

  "Wonderful," said Jondar with a twinkle in his eyes. "Then by the end of this you'll feel immortal. Now back in the pond. Do a better job of holding your breath this time."

  For the next two hours, Terran spent his time between the bottom of the pond and the edge, recovering from his last attempt. As his time grew, he learned to enjoy the peacefulness of his watery solitude, but the end was always filled with the burning desire to breathe again. During one of his attempts, he gained a new skill.

  [You have gained the skill Bardic Endurance]

  Skill: Bardic Endurance 1 (END)

  It works on alcohol tolerance, too

  When his chest began to ache from holding his breath and his hands wouldn't stop shivering, Jondar motioned for him to get dressed.

  "Forty seconds," said Jondar. "Not bad. I mean, not good either, but it's getting better for your first day. Since your lips have turned a nice shade of blue, I'm going to give you an hour break."

  "Grr-r-r-reat," said Terran, rubbing his limbs for warmth.

  "Meet me behind the barracks in an hour after you've lost that unhealthy pallor," said Jondar with a wink.

  As Terran pulled his leaf armor on, he wondered if training with Jondar was going to be harder than he first thought.

  #

  Terran found Jondar in a spot of sunlight behind the barracks tree. Lhoris and his trainees were in the forest, so they had the well-worn patch of grass to themselves. The training dummies rested against the trunk, heavily chipped from taking repeated blows.

  The jovial bard stood in a wide stance, a wooden training sword over his shoulder, whistling a carefree tune that rose and fell with an speed that Terran hadn't thought possible.

  "Feeling warmer?" asked Jondar.

  "My bones are no longer shivering," said Terran, responding to his trainer's good nature.

  "Wonderful," said Jondar with a wink as he extended the sword downward towards a spot in the grass before him. "Stand here and give me a middle C, hold it as long as you can."

  Terran swallowed his question as he took position, giving his trainer the side-eye before he opened his mouth to belt out a long note, adjusting twice to hit the pitch as Jondar stared him down. About ten seconds into the note, Jondar shifted like a panther, cracking the wooden sword right into Terran's gut.

  "Ooof."

  He doubled over, spittle shooting from his lips as the air left his lungs. Coughing, he returned to the upright position.

  "What was that for?" he asked.

  Jondar raised an eyebrow. "Are you expecting to be left alone on the battlefield by your enemies as you rain down destruction with your voice? Your lungs are your weapon. If you can't sing though a hit with a practice sword, you're doomed. Being able to sing in adverse conditions will save your life someday. You won't always be in ideal conditions. Middle C. Again."

  The second note warbled as he tried to find his pitch while simultaneously eyeing Jondar for signs of another strike. Almost as soon as he found the C, Jondar jabbed him in the gut with the wooden sword, disrupting his singing.

  "You haven't been practicing your pitch," said Jondar sternly. "It's taking you far too long to find the right note."

  "I have been practicing, but it's unnerving having you stare at me while I sing," said Terran as he rubbed his stomach.

  Jondar blinked incredulously as he wandered away with his sword held high. "Gods above, you should be reveling in the attention of your audience, even if they want to kill you. A bard craves attention like a fish craves a nice pair of legs."

  "I wish that were so," said Terran.

  "It's just another thing you'll have to get over," said Jondar. "Middle C. Again."

  For the next two hours, Jondar beat him with the wooden sword while he attempted to hit his notes. During the time, he leveled in Bardic Endurance twice and Battle Song once, but didn't feel like he was actually getting better.

  When Terran started flinching every time the breeze blew, Jondar said, "We should take a break. I'm not sure how, but you're getting worse at hitting your pitch."

  "Yeah," said Terran. "I feel like I'm second-guessing where I need to be, then overcompensating."

  "Confidence will improve if you
improve your stance," said Jondar as he scratched his chin and raised his head with eyes alight. He spread his legs and seemed to expand before Terran. "This is a power stance. When I inhabit it, I feel like I am king of the world, or at least king of the stage for a night."

  Terran rubbed the back of his head skeptically.

  "Another break, thirty minutes only, then meet me at the back of the settlement for your next lesson," said Jondar.

  "No rest for the weary," said Terran, grimacing.

  "Lucky it's me as your trainer. Zoras believes that pain is a great teacher. He would go for eight to ten hours a session before giving me a five-minute break," said Jondar.

  "Ouch."

  "Rest, quickly," said Jondar with a rosy-cheeked grin. "You're really going to like this next session."

  #

  Jondar's promise sat uneasily with Terran as he leaned against a tree, waiting for his next session. He was beginning not to trust that easy smile of Jondar's as none of the training had been simple. When he'd arrived at the training spot, he'd found a meandering row of colored glass balls suspended on strings from the trees.

  "I hope you're rested because this next one will test your stamina as well as your pitch." Standing beneath a glimmering orange glass ball, Jondar flicked the surface, which echoed with a perfect B. "Each one responds to a different note, starting with C, which is red. B is orange, and so on. Your task is to sprint from spot to spot, hitting your note, then moving on. We'll start with the natural notes before adding flats and sharps."

  Terran skewed his mouth to the side as he eyed the course. "That doesn't sound too bad."

  "Until you learn that if you hit the note wrong, the glass balls will shock you," said Jondar with his hands behind his back and an all too smug smile on his lips.

  "I see."

  "I'll let you go slow the first few times around before we pick up the pace," said Jondar, pulling out an hourglass filled with white sand and flipping it over into the grass. "Begin."

  A little startled by the abrupt beginning, Terran moved near the hanging glass ball, positioning himself at an angle, unsure if he had to treat it like a microphone or if it'd pick up his pitch from everywhere. The note was a touch flat when it came out, resulting in a shock that made him flinch. He shook it off and tried again, hitting it right the second time.

  The second ball was an F, which he hit first try. He thought he might be doing well until the third ball, which was a D. It took him four tries, each one leaving him less excited to try again. The rest of the course, twenty-five balls in total, left his jaw aching by the time he finished.

  Jondar tipped over the empty hourglass when Terran staggered to a stop. "The hourglass ran out eight balls before you finished. Are you ready to go again?"

  "No," said Terran, rubbing his side, which was sore from tensing up. "What am I doing wrong?"

  "Besides singing from your throat and not your gut, a lack of setting your feet before you open your mouth, and singing as if you were afraid of your own shadow," said Jondar, "not much at all. Terran. I understand the lack of stamina and the pitch troubles. Those will come in time, but you act like you hate singing, and I know that's not true."

  "It's not that I hate singing, I like it quite well, but just not in front of others," said Terran.

  Jondar made a noise in the back of his throat. "A problem for another time. Let's see if you can clear the course before the hourglass runs out, and if you do, we'll call it a day."

  Terran nodded, hoping that his decent first try would get better on the second, but the hourglass ran out when he had ten left, then thirteen. Fifteen. Fourteen. Eighteen. Eleven. A half dozen attempts he didn't remember, then when moonlight dappled through the trees and the shadow owls that liked to nest in the trees added their voices to the night, he managed to complete the course before the hourglass ran out.

  Lying on the ground in absolute exhaustion, Terran looked up as Jondar tossed the hourglass on his belly.

  "See you in the morning at the pond," said Jondar as he strolled away.

  When he was alone in the cool grass, Terran muttered to himself, "You just had to say you wanted to be a Crystal Bard. Next time, Terran, ask what the hell that means before you agree."

  #

  The next day went a lot like the first, except Jondar gave him fewer and shorter breaks. The bottom of the pond became as familiar as the back of his hand, his stomach was more black and blue than a bumper beetle, and the mere sight of a hanging glass ball made his jaw ache.

  It didn't help that his midsection was sore to the touch, which made every note, every minor effort, into exquisite pain. By the end of the second day, he was beginning to wonder if Jondar was smiling because he was trying to keep Terran from killing him.

  "Shall we do this again tomorrow?" asked Jondar as Terran lay in the grass again, twitching from the never-ending shocks.

  "If it's an option, no," said Terran.

  "It was a rhetorical question," said Jondar. "Meet me at the Mother Tree tomorrow for your next lesson."

  "Maybe I have to leave with the patrol tomorrow," said Terran.

  Jondar wagged his finger. "I've already checked with Lhoris. They don't leave for two more days because the troops need more time to train." He winked. "Oh, and bring a big rock with a flat spot on one side."

  As his trainer wandered away, Terran said to himself, "To drop on your head?"

  #

  When he arrived at the Mother Tree on the third day, a small group of Rock Leaf Elves were milling around, including Chanterelle, who'd been giggling all morning during breakfast. Jondar leaned against the Mother Tree with a piece of grass in his mouth.

  "Why are they here, and what am I doing with this rock?" asked Terran.

  "Put it over here," said Jondar.

  Terran waddled to the spot, dropped the stone into the grass, then waited for further direction. He was expecting to lift and throw it while singing or some other odd training request, so he was surprised when Jondar plopped down on the rock, shooting him a wink.

  "Thanks for the seat. Watching you work the last two days has made me tired," said Jondar.

  With so many elves watching, Terran kept his comments to himself. He crossed his arms and waited for the inevitable challenge to be unveiled.

  "This morning, you will be singing a song to our lovely audience," said Jondar, winking towards the elves, who collectively blushed, except for Chanterelle, who only had eyes for him.

  "What song?" asked Terran as his stomach tied into a knot.

  "I don't know, make one up for all I care. The most important thing is to sing, and have fun with it, pitch be damned," said Jondar.

  The task reduced Terran's vision to a pinprick. The heat of their gaze left him shriveling as memories of laughter rolled up his spine, triggering past shames. He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth as he tried to push away the memory of Tabitha's laughter from his mind to focus on the moment. Even though it'd been years, the shame burned within him as if it'd been yesterday.

  Jondar crossed his leg over his knee, resting his hands primly. "We're waiting."

  The audience, which had seemed primed for his success, deflated as they waited. Chanterelle caught his eye, giving him a nod of solidarity, which helped flog his resolve. Terran inhaled deeply, slipping into a comfortable singing position with his legs spread and chin lifted. When he hit the "power stance," momentarily feeling a sense of euphoria fill him, the dread of performing lessened until he could meet their gazes.

  Sensing that his resolve would dip if he didn't start singing, Terran reverted back to the songs he would make up on his travels with Luna.

  "Zoras is a"—he almost said man, quickly switching—"an elf, of uncommon wealth, whose words are a farce, unlike the stick that he keeps up his arse."

  As the words lilted off his tongue, the lips of his audience slowly stretched to smiles, then to fits of laughter. The head of the crystalline conservatory was an easy target bringing a host
of mirth.

  "...he preens and blusters, but he's hollow and lacks luster..."

  Terran was so caught up in his song, he didn't notice that everyone had gone stiff as if they were avoiding being bitten by a wasp.

  "...all his intellect you could fit on a small rock, and speaking of small, let me tell you about his—"

  When Jondar paled, his normally rosy cheeks a flat white, Terran turned his head to the right to see Zoras only fifteen feet away.

  "...cock."

  Terran might have been able to handle anger from the elf, but the devastation in his eyes, the absolute evisceration of his soul, was a step too far. Zoras backed away, his chin falling to his chest, then the stiff elf marched back towards his tree.

  The others in the clearing disappeared, except for Chanterelle and Jondar.

  "I've wounded him," said Terran.

  "He wounds easily," said Jondar. "The grand expectations of life that he had based on the stories of the former heads of the conservatory have left him constantly disappointed."

  "I should go apologize," said Terran.

  "No," said Jondar, standing. "That task should fall to me. He likely won't see you right now. In fact, he's probably packing his things."

  "We can't lose him," said Terran. "We need everyone in the settlement."

  "Don't worry," said Jondar. "While he might eventually leave, he usually packs his things a half dozen times before he actually gets the nerve to do it. On a good note, I think we can say that your song was a rousing success."

  Chanterelle clapped her hands. "I thought it was hilarious and spot on." She tilted her head. "I can't say that I didn't enjoy seeing him deflated for once. He's been nothing but a pain since he arrived."

  "A pain that we need," said Terran. "We can't grow the crystals without him, nor can we lose his knowledge. Not only does the defense of the settlement require him, but if I want to get my friends back, I need him." He sighed. "And my song was mean. I was letting off steam, but as leader of the settlement, I can't do that, not in front of its members."

  Jondar clapped him on the shoulder. "Chanterelle is right though. While your words were quite cutting, the rhyme and pitch was exceptional. Keep that lesson in mind the next time you're in battle. Form fills function. Once you hit your power stance, you performed much better."