Hello everyone! My second story! Finally, huh? Well, there are a few things you need to know before reading "The Last Singer".

1. This takes place in the same world as "Skin Deep" (my other story) BUT it is a very long time before "Skin Deep" takes place. Like... 1000 years.

2. This is a tragedy! That means it will be sad! That means not happy! Maybe even tears! (If I can write well enough to get tears ...)

3. Death and killing is mentioned alot in this. Not in a horrible gruesome way, but it still is. Well maybe horrible in some parts. You'll see.

4. The Dead Singer Language. When Senti speaks in this, it is in italics and quotes because he is saying it in another language so people can't understand him. It's like me walking up to you and speaking a foreign language. You can't understand me. But I wanted the readers to understand him, so its in quotations AND italics when he's speaking the dead language. If it's just italics then its just him thinking. Does that make sense? I hope so...

5. Comments/Reviews are REALLY appreciated! This is my first attempt at any kind of sad thing, so I want to know if I do it right or if I'm too sappy or whatnot. So all your help is really really ... well, helpful. I hope you like it, and here you go:

The Last Singer: Chapter 1- Fateful

The kingdom of Amedyn sat shrouded in a dark fog, the corner of streets so dark one could only imagine what might lie in their hidden corridors. The empty streets betrayed the fear of the people who inhabited this great and powerful country, fear of what encompassed the land outside their homes. As the country grew in power and place in the world, the people suffered as the purity of their land was slowly disintegrated by the corruption of the Noble class.

The Nobles had risen to power long ago, when over-zealous men had taken power over the different magic clans. That was what Amedyn had been in the past, a great power feared by all others and yet respected at the same time. It had been that Amedyn was not a country to participate in wars, merely observe and offer help to those who needed it. Many different Great Magics had originated in Amedyn, only to be driven out and extinguished when the Nobles came to power.

The Noble class, once it had reached its higher status, had come to fear the power that lie beneath them in stature. Creating an army fueled by Outside Magic (or rather, magic used by people not born with it) and attacked the various peaceful powers that lie asleep in the realms of this great country. One family that craved power more than the others stood to lead the Nobles, and became the Empirical class. As the years passed, the now powerless people of Amedyn had no choice but to adhere to these new controllers.

The free and peaceful country of Amedyn was gone, replaced by a feared and ruthless hierarchy that used its power to cause conflict with the outside world in want of conquest. The years had passed, the various magics hunted down and exterminated for their mere existence, and the 'Empirical' family of the Ver Montelis grew complacent in their state of control.

Hidden from public knowledge for centuries, the Ver Montelis had secretly kept survivors from the greatest magic of Amedyn- the Singers. There were five clans, and the Ver Montelis were able to keep a firm hold on these people, their will broken and lives threatened. Over the years, the Empiricals were able to successfully create what they had longed for in the beginning: a supreme power. This power was in the form of a child who held all five aspects of the Singers. The child was taken and kept in solitude by the Ver Montelis, while his makeshift family was disposed of making him the last Singer left in Amedyn and the world.

The small dying candle flickered its way through its final flame, the red light splattering the walls with its maroon veil. Once the small flame had snuffed itself out, the room was filled with the pale light from the moon shining through the barred window. The bars themselves caused lines of shadows to cross over everything in the small dank room, including the thin blonde scrap of humanity that cuddled in the far corner of the room. The soft light barely illuminated the bandages that wrapped themselves around his face and hands. His clothes were covered in stains and dirt, ripped at the seams and fraying.

The young boy's name was Senti, and he was the last carrier of the Singer power. He wasn't sure how old he was himself, but assumed it was around seventeen or eighteen just from counting backwards through the cold winters he spitefully remembered. He was kept here by the current Ver Montelis, His Majesty Lord Emperor Tormen, as a type of weapon against people who offered any threat or disloyalty.

You would think someone with such fearful power as his would have just escaped by now, correct? Well, Senti had tried many times, each time almost more rewarding than the last. When he had been a newborn child, the Ver Montelis had ordered his dark magicians to thread a sliver of orihalcon metal through his heart, binding it to a similar strand in a necklace that the Ver Montelis wore at all times. Not only did this keep Tormen immune to Senti's powers, but also gave him leverage over Senti's life force in general. The man wasn't afraid to use the torturous means against Senti if he ever refused to do his will, and the pain it brought was indescribable.

Bored and unable to sleep, the young boy began to hum to himself, forming threads of images through the air. He imagined a deep forest that hid a secret lake that brimmed with life. With every pitch and note the threaded picture was filled with more life, a small squirrel skittering up a tree or a fox running from one bush to the next. Having never actually seen places like this in real life, Senti enjoyed imagining them from small memories that came to him across battlefields. The thought of the battles and death infiltrated his thoughts, causing the threaded image to change to a burning field with many dead bodies piled on top of each other.

Senti frowned. The sound of footsteps caught his attention as he quickly waved a bruised hand through the air, causing the picture to dissipate into normal space once again. The door opened with a clank as a tall and well-built man entered. His head seemed to reach near the ceiling and was topped with dark curly hair that framed his face with a short beard and sideburns. His eyes were small and calculating with no feeling hidden in their depths as he glanced around the room. Finding the boy, he took two quick steps over to stand in front of Senti.

"Up Singer," he commanded. The boy didn't move. With an obviously short temper, the man reached down and grabbed his tattered garments and pulled him upwards, "I said UP!" He tossed the boy across the room sliding across the rough stone floor.

Senti pushed himself off the floor, holding his left arm. He was used to being beat, and rather didn't care any more. He heard Tormen snort behind him and leave the room while two guards came in and headed towards Senti. Instead of putting them under his will or fighting back, he merely let them pick him up and carry him out of the room. They walked through a maze of corridors and staircases until they came out the front doors. Tossing him into a caged cart, Tormen appeared and stared at Senti through the bars. "I have a small job for you Singer," he said authoritatively. "And if you try to get away I'll be forced to execute any standbys. I can't take the chance of them having helped you after all."

Senti slumped against the metal walls of the carriage, sitting close to the barred back. This was the closest he could get the outside world, and he liked the fresh air. He watched as people bustled out of the way and stared after him, whispering heatedly. He could hear what they were saying clearly, whether it was with their mouths or with their minds.

It's the Singer.

The one who kills armies.

He's a monster. No one should be able to kill so many!

He's a danger to everyone. He should die. The world would be better off. Then this war would end.

Senti closed off his mind's ear, not wanting to hear anymore. He knew people feared him for his power, but no one seemed to understand that he didn't do it because he wanted to. He could even possibly escape now, but he knew that Tormen would keep his word and slaughter every innocent city person within a certain range of them if he did. That was Senti's weak spot, he hated seeing people killed. And Tormen used that to his full advantage.

Senti saw himself as an oxymoron. He hated seeing people die, yet he killed so many. Forced them to kill each other. It had come to the point that he showed no signs of a troubled mind or remorse when he watched people kill each other or die. He hated himself. If he died, the world would be better off. But then, he feared death. The ability to be away from any control and free appealed to him, but he wanted to live like any other person. He hated his contradictory personality.

The carriage followed the path through the busiest area of the city, steadily making its way over the river that encircled the area. Once they were in the woods outside, there were fewer people but still some. The carriage paused and Tormen appeared. His face held a menacing smile as he stuffed a small package through the bars. "Put this on. We want to make a good impression." Tormen disappeared and the carriage once again began onward.

Senti stared at the robe he had been given. It was a long black robe with gold embroidery on the hems with black pants that held a gold crane wrapping up one leg. There was also a gold satin shirt that went underneath the sleeveless robe, with a collar that poked out around his neck and folded over the black. There was even a comb and soft black shoes with gold outline. He was disgusted. It was so obviously showy.

The thought of not bothering to change at all passed through his head, but it wouldn't be worth it. Besides, he was usually able to keep the clothes he got on excavations like these, and they lasted for a few months at least. He changed into the nice clothes, the expensive feel making him frown. He hated these colors because he knew why Tormen had chosen them. Once he was fully dressed he began to comb down his silky blonde hair. His hair was a mystery to even him, no matter how long it went without a proper wash or cut, it always managed to look… well, beautiful.

He felt something hard press into his leg from the pocket of the pants, and fished it out. He stared at the gold choker and tossed it into the back of the carriage. He would not wear a collar like some dog! After thinking about it, he retrieved the necklace from the back of the dark box and threw it out between the bars he sat by. Now he could say he didn't have it and be truthful, and maybe someone who needed it would find it and be able to sell it.

Falling asleep during the long ride, Senti was shaken awake when the carriage suddenly stopped. Tormen stood nearby as a soldier unlocked the barred door to let Senti out. His legs felt quivery after sitting for so long, so he began to stomp them lightly on the ground. Without a word Tormen began to walk down the road. Senti followed obediently.

Once he had rounded the carriage he found himself at the beginning of one of the smaller villages on the outskirts of the capital. Looking behind him he could see the outline of the castle that was like his prison. He turned away from it and continued down the street. His robe floated behind him in the dust that his feet kicked up, and he knew he looked the picture of a feared magician. People gazed at him with fear from windows and the sides of the streets. Everyone had crouched to the ground in a bow as Tormen passed, but they stared at the Singer.

When they had walked into almost the middle of the town, an older man ran out to meet Tormen. Two soldiers immediately stood between the man and their Emperor, stopping him with pointed weapons.

"Your Majesty," the man dropped to his knees, pressing his head to the floor. "We are honored with your presence."

"I have been informed that this village may be hiding and aiding treachery. Is this true?" Tormen never danced around a subject.

"Y-Your Majesty," the man said, his voice suddenly dropping to a low whisper. "Th-There are men here, Sire, they are … they are crude men, Your Highness. W-we were unable to argue with them. Th-They have already killed some who wished to report to you, Sire."

Tormen's raised eyebrow betrayed his disbelief. "And where are they now?"

"I-I do not know, Sire."

"You do not know," repeated Tormen calmly. He turned to look at Senti. "Well?"

"He speaks the truth," Senti muttered, nervous for the man. He really didn't know where they were.

"Then you are useless," Tormen continued walking forward. The two men soldiers left behind moved to attack the old man, but Senti stepped between them.

"You are forgetting your first duty to your Emperor. I will take care of him," he stared at them, using his voice to emphasize his meaning. The men immediately turned to follow after Tormen. Senti dropped to his knees and lifted the old man up. "Are you alright sir?"

The man jerked away, "No! Singer, I speak the truth!"

"I know," said Senti in a whisper. "Just go back to your home and out of my sight." He stood and walked away, playing the bad guy was the only way to get people to listen sometimes. The man skittered away as quickly as possible.

Senti began to walk after the soldiers and Tormen that were ahead of him on the road. Suddenly a group of nearly twenty men appeared, blocking them. A family of a middle aged man and a much younger woman who held an infant in her arms were caught as well when ten more men appeared behind the group. They kept closer to the wall of the building behind them.

Senti stopped walking, slightly hoping these people would be successful in killing Tormen, but knowing it would never happen. Tormen simply laughed, "So you are the rebels who have come so close to the capital, eh?"

"Today you will die!" yelled one of the men at the Emperor.

"Stop," was all Senti said as he moved through the men at the back. His voice held power all the time normally, but now he put a bit more emphasis into it. All the men stood still, watching as the young blonde boy walked through them slowly.

"The Singer!" whispered one. "He's here?"

Tormen smirked at Senti, a challenge in his eyes. "Well, Singer?"

"I have them stopped. You can easily arrest them," he said blandly. He knew what was coming.

"I don't want them all. Kill them."

"No."

"You try to defy me?" said Tormen viciously, his grin widening. He walked over to the family that stayed backed at the house. Without a word of warning, he snatched the child from the arms of the woman and walked back towards Senti, stopping a few meters in front of him. He held the child, who looked no more than one or two years old, up by the collar. The child was wailing loudly as Tormen raised a sword to its neck. "Kill them."

The woman was shrieking behind the Emperor, yelling for her baby, her husband holding her back as his white face betrayed his fear. Tormen pressed the edge of the blade near the child's throat, drawing blood. "Kill all but one Singer."

Previous experience told Senti that Tormen wouldn't hesitate to kill the child held captive in his hands. Silently, he picked one of the men with a small apology and then spoke in the dead language of singers that was foreign in its very being, his voice ringing and echoing like a song, deep with power. "I command you all, rectify yourselves to your fate, and die. Save the single one who is touched by the power, and mark him till time allows."

All the men around them began fighting each other violently. Blood sprayed around Senti, staining the leg that held the crane. Within minutes, all the men had managed to kill each, save one who stumbled towards the soldiers and fell, his consciousness lost.

"Make sure he's breathing," ordered Tormen, never looking away from Senti, whose eyes had darkened a black rimmed with gold at the sound of the dead language. When one of the soldiers confirmed the man was alive, Tormen turned and tossed the child unceremoniously back at the couple. The woman ran forward to catch her child, crying and shaking in fear.

The soldiers were carrying the sole survivor back towards the carriage and began to chain and bound him. Tormen walked back as well telling no one in particular, "I leave the job of cleaning this up to the inhabitants of this town. Do what you wish with the remains."

Senti trotted over to the couple and kneeled to the woman who was still shaking in her husband's arms. "Is… Is the child ok?" he asked worriedly.

"Monster!" cried the woman, burying her face in her husband's shirt. "Don't touch him!"

The man looked at Senti apologetically, "I'm sorry. She… she's just shaken."

"It's fine," he replied as he straightened. He looked down and saw the child's head poking out from its mother's protective arms. It had stopped crying to smile at him.

Senti turned to go and was stopped when the man tentatively whispered, "Th-thank you… Singer."

"I did nothing to be thanked for," Senti replied looking at the dead bodies. "I apologize for bringing grief to your village." He continued towards the carriage. Tormen watched him in victory. When Senti passed him without even a glance Tormen offered a comment.

"Heh, I never tire of watching you work Singer. Quick and swift as always, I'm sure your victims thank you," he laughed.

Senti turned ready to say something back as Tormen played with the small gold chain around his neck. Senti dropped to the ground in pain, holding his chest. "Now now Singer. Dogs that try to bite their masters do have to be punished you know."

Two soldiers picked Senti up and tossed him in the back of the barred carriage along with the out cold man. The pain finally ceased, and they headed back towards the castle, taking care to stay along the most populated streets possible.

"Bring the girl," ordered a tall figure shrouded in dark fancy clothing. It was a younger Tormen by at least 10 years holding a bloodied cat-o-nine-tails from one massive fist.

The skies held a black and red hue; as if foreshadowing the color the ground would be stained within minutes. Smoke billowed into the air from various places surrounding them, the sheen of fire apparent from the ground. The smell of war sailed through the air, attacking the minds of the soldiers and overseers. Atop the highest balcony in the castle stood the famed bloodthirsty Emperor of Amedyn, surrounded by his group of personal generals, dark magicians, and advisors. On the stone floor, surrounded by these people, lay a chained and beaten mess of a boy with bloodstained blonde hair. His back was an array of deep scars, trails of his dark blood leading to the whip held in the Emperor's hand. The boy's already gasping breath was hitched in his throat as he heard the sounds of high-pitched struggling.

Three soldiers carried in a bound and gagged girl of no more than six, a woman who resembled her quick on their heels. "Let go of my baby!" cried the woman. "Let her go! Give her back!" She didn't see the young Emperor Tormen give the smallest of nods to one of his men, who moved behind the woman and cut her down quickly. Her wails were quickly replaced by the crying of the small girl.

Senti stared silently at the dead woman whose lifeless eyes stared at him in desperation. Her daughter thrashed at the soldiers that held her down, keeping her from her mother. His eyes moved to the girl whose face was covered in tears. She followed her mother to work in the castle everyday, and had been charged with bringing him the scant meals he received. He hardly even knew her.

Tormen's foot came down hard on the blonde's head, crushing his face ever harder into the pavement. "I'll tell you one more time: I want to see your power! Show me your destruction!"

Senti did not move. Tormen looked at the men who held the girl, and they moved to hold her near the edge of the balcony.

"Stop… it…" came the broken croak of Senti's voice. The men stopped under his order- no one could resist him.

Tormen's victorious smile was infectious to his followers. "Destroy the Barbontan army!" he ordered, removing his foot. Senti stood slowly, his back searing with pain and his legs shaking with fatigue. The shackles around his feet and wrists dragged against the blood splattered stones as his feet left bloody prints. He took a moment to glance at his friend. She stared at him fiercely, shaking her head. Don't do it, he could hear her pleading silently. Don't.

Looking over the plains in front of him, the city was a pure mess. Barbontan soldiers swarmed everywhere, facing off against Amedian ones. Homes were lit with fire, innocent people trying to run and protect their families from the onslaught.

Senti's already blackened eyes became cracked with white lines as he spoke in a deep hatred. He spoke the dreaded song of destruction, talking low enough so no one heard him change some of the words. The earth began to shake, taking people's concentration on the battle. Metal began to rust, ruining weapons. Enemies from both sides of the field were too stunned to continue fighting by both the sudden ruin and the breathy voice of a child that filled the air.

"I said kill them! Not stop the fighting, you insolent brat!" yelled Tormen. Senti continued to stand there muttering under his breath, a pool of blood gathering at his feet. He was too far entranced in his song to be bothered. Soldiers and imperial entourage both were backing up from this child.

Sickened with the display, Tormen grabbed the chain around his neck in desperation, breaking the boy's concentration. A shriek that breathed death and pain coursed through the air before buildings below began to fall apart on their own, the fires rose into monsters that licked up the nearest people, and the earth itself opening and changing to swallow as many men as possible.

Senti grasped his head, his control lost. Everyone below, friend foe or innocent, was being removed from existence. Within minutes the Barbontan army, Amedian army, and whoever had been left behind in the city was either lying dead, buried, or burning. Their screams were as prominent in Senti's mind as if they stood next to him, cursing him, wanting to live, wanting to fight. After what seemed like forever, the connection to his power was severed, by what he wasn't sure, and he sat in a bloody and tearful pile.

"You little bastard," cried Tormen, half enthralled by the power he had just seen, and half seething with anger. "But… you will learn…!" He turned, found the girl still standing nearby between the guards, all who were staring at the sight below them, and grabbed her by the shoulder. Facing Senti, he grinned, "Watch as you kill her." His sword pierced her small body, her eyes losing light. He removed the sword and flung her lithe body at Senti.

The young boy could only stare at the dead face of the girl who lay against him. Fresh tears spilled over, his voice and ability to move gone. All he could do was sob as he held this girl who was now dead for merely knowing he existed.

Emerald eyes opened tiredly to view the dank walls of the room that surrounded him. Senti sat up, seemingly unaffected by the dream. He remembered that day clearly; he didn't need reminders when he slept. That day was the last day he had ever cried, and the day he had sealed the destructive part of his power away to never use it again. He'd been beaten many times to bring it back, but he refused.

A heated conversation reached his ears. It was coming from the stairwell that led to his corridor, and was rather far off, but of course that didn't mean anything to Senti. He could pretty much hear anything he wanted, even if it didn't exist. He stared at the ceiling as he listened.

"… Tockn and Marquis are thinking of coming to the allies meeting, Sire."

"They're positioned right next to Candeth. That would be extremely advantageous." Senti recognized Tormen's voice in an instant.

"But Sire, we've gotten various information about planned assassination attempts."

Tormen snorted, "You think that will stop me?"

"Not you Sire, the… the Singer."

"Ha! They think they can get close enough to kill the great Last Singer?"

"Sire, forgive my saying so, but the boy shows no resolve to live. If anyone was to regretfully get that far… he may let them kill him. Or worse, take him so he could fight against us."

"The boy's too much of a coward to die." There was a moment of silence before Tormen continued, "Although… I suppose we cannot be sure."

"Yes Sire, you know best."

"Well this will give us an opportunity to put my plan into action. We won't need stupid attachments after a while. We'll send the boy to the coast for safety."

"Sire… won't he, well, try to escape?"

"Heh, I know how to keep him in one place. Fetch him and take him to the dressing room. There's no point in trying to interrogate him about the sleeping traitor. I already know the man won't wake up."

"Yes Sire."

Footsteps going in opposite directions told Senti to expect a visitor. It seemed they had found the man they had captured a few days before under the deep sleep Senti had slipped him into. He knew that he was killing the man with sleep, but he also knew it would be better for him than to be interrogated by anyone here. It was an act of mercy if anything.

Eventually Tormen's first assistant Cayrn appeared in his room to take him down to the dressing rooms. Once he had been able to have a proper bath, he was given a choice of clothes. Senti was dreadfully weary as he picked out a lush green robe that pinned to one side of his waist with matching pants and a pale long sleeve shirt underneath. This outfit had a pale yellow design of a dragon spiraling up one side. He'd never been given a choice in what to wear or such a long bath. He was becoming suspicious.

Once he was completely bathed and clothed he was offered new wrappings for his hands and forehead. Once he had finished those, he was led into another room that had a glass wall overlooking the city below. Tormen sat in a fat cushioned chair as he ate something.

"Ahh, Singer," he set his fork down and patted his lips with a napkin. "I'm glad you could join me. I need to discuss something with you." When Senti didn't respond, he merely continued, "It seems your life is in danger here at the capital. Therefore, I will be sending you to stay at the coast for a while at Port Montel. My cousin is in charge there and will take good care of you."

Senti still said nothing, his eyes blank. "Singer, I will admit I have been nothing but horrible and unfair to you. Keeping you locked up in a little room with nothing. Beating you. I can only say I do what I was taught, so take this little vacation as my … apology."

You're not sorry for anything, Senti thought bitterly as the faces of so many people that had died at this man's hands for no reason flashed through his mind. Not for any of it.

"I will warn you though," continued Tormen, rising and walking to the window. "I would advise you not to try to leave the premises of where you will be staying. I will not leave you with any threats, but there are precautionary measures being taken."

In other words you'll kill everyone in the village if I leave.

"You are too important to this war, Singer. It is with you that I will be able to take grasp of this world and shape it into a better image. I am sorry to say that due to the way you have been treated you most likely do not believe me. Therefore, you will be taken to your new temporary home by the carriage. When you return, you will find your life in a turn for the better. So take the next few months to relax and get a new outlook on things."

Despite his growing anger and disbelief at this, Senti couldn't help but be slightly impressed at this man's act. How he could go from a murder loving egotistical overlord to a remorseful wonder bound ruler mystified him. It was then that Tormen walked over and leaned close in to Senti's face.

"I'll tell you again, just to make sure. Don't try anything funny. You wouldn't want to regret it. We can still help each other, all you have to do is cooperate." Tormen straightened again, and turned his back with the signal that Senti was dismissed.

Once he had returned to the hall, he was informed that he was to leave immediately. He was placed in the locked and barred carriage once again, this time with a pallet, trunk of clothes, and various other knick-knacks to keep him company.

Over the next few days, Senti found that continually riding in a carriage such as he was, was definitely not the most comfortable thing in the world. Thoughts of escape crossed his mind many times. It would only be too easy to get the soldiers to unlock the carriage and let him go free. But Senti wasn't stupid enough to believe that he could survive on his own for very long. He'd been locked up so much of his life he knew practically nothing of natural survival. His rare blonde hair and obvious clothes would make anyone know whom he was, and all that would do would make things worse. His best bet would be to get to Port Montel and try to figure out something from there.

He soon found a small wooden flute stuffed amongst the various objects that had been thrown into the carriage for his entertainment. Since sounds were his specialty after all, he spent the next few days that it took to get to their destination teaching himself to play the small instrument. By the third day he was already quite good, according to the soldiers. Not that they ever said that out loud.

The fifth day, they were near enough to Port Montel to see the Hold over the tops of the trees. When they passed the forest outposts, Senti felt a sting of pain rip through him, but it was gone in a second. The thought was pushed from his mind as he quickly observed the town they were now going through.

People were bustling about the street going from one store to the next as kids ran through the street. A few of the smaller kids noticed Senti in the back of the carriage sitting near the bars and decided to follow at a trot. They didn't do anything. Just followed while waving and laughing.

The place was definitely nothing compared to the size of the capital, but it was perfect in Senti's mind. He hadn't heard one thought of the dreaded Singer while passing through the throws of people. While some had stopped to gaze at the passing carriage with its guards, people were smart enough to continue on with their own activities.

One of the kids had caught up enough to grab hold of the bars and hang on as the carriage pulled him. A soldier moved to shoo the kids away, but Senti ordered him to leave them alone. Senti retrieved some of the candies he had found in the trunk a few days ago and tossed them out to the kids. They ran away excitedly, only thinking afterwards to turn around and yell thank you. Senti simply waved.

Finally entering the Hold of Port Montel, Senti was let out once the gate had been shut and locked. A servant appeared and guided him to the master of the town, Tormen's cousin. The man was not what Senti had expected, the exact opposite of his brother. He was a scrawny man with long black hair that fell around his shoulders. His bony face looked mathematical and calculating, every angle at a set point. He looked up at Senti only for a few seconds before returning to his papers.

"So you're the Singer, aye?" he mumbled. "Well, I'm sure my dear cousin told you the rules. No leaving the village grounds, no trying to escape yadda yadda yadda. You're free to walk around the village, as you like. Hmm, am I forgetting anything?" After a slight pause, he decided not. "The servant outside will show you to your room, make yourself comfortable. You'll be here a while from what I understand."

"Thank you," said Senti, unsure how to take someone who seemed to be very hospitable and very uninterested at the same time. The man stopped and looked at him again.

"I hadn't thought it was true," he said. Senti merely stared at him quizzically and he replied, "I've always heard of how your power was so prudent that your mere speech can affect a man. I'm honored to have met you Singer."

Senti stood silent baffled as to what to say. Honored to meet him? A servant got his attention and took him to his room. He passed a very tall and dark looking man in the hallway. The man seemed to glare at him from the corner of his eye, but didn't say or do anything.

The room in question was more spacious than anything Senti had ever been able to call his own before. There was a large fluffy bed with comforters made of the finest materials, a small desk with writing utensils, his trunk had been placed at the foot of his bed. There was even a balcony with a small ledge to sit on. After searching around a bit more, he had been shocked to find an entire closet of clothes and other garments with a tall mirror.

Senti looked out the window and decided that there was enough of the day left to traverse the village a bit. He found some normal looking clothes, some brown pants with a brown over vest and a white long sleeve shirt, and changed hurriedly. He knew he was overreacting and getting ahead of himself, but he was excited all the same.

He eventually found his way to the front gate and gained exit almost immediately. It seemed word had begun to spread who was in town. Senti silently cursed his blonde hair. It was so vibrant and everyone else seemed to have either brunette or black, he'd be sure to be spotted easily. Maybe the townspeople weren't aware of his presence yet.

Senti soon found the opposite to be the case, as people skirted far from him in their line of walking. He was greeted with wary glances and interested eyes continually. After a while he was tired of not being able to talk to anyone without them visibly shivering and turned to head back to the Hold. It was then that a small noise caught his ears. He turned and saw the group of kids from that morning standing behind him.

Staring down at the little buggers, he decided the oldest couldn't be more than ten and the youngest was about two or three. One little girl who held a ragged doll and whose dark red hair was pulled into pigtails. "Dey sayin joor Meester Seenguh. Does joo seeng songs 'n stuff?"

Senti couldn't help but smile at the girl. He squatted down to be head level with her. "Yes, I sing songs."

"Mama said we's not supposed to goes near you," said the oldest boy toughly.

"Well you should probably listen to your mother," Senti said sadly. "But I don't bite."

"Seeng uh song! Seeng uh song!" cried the little girl again.

"Well I can't right here," Senti said, not sure what to do. He'd never dealt with kids this openly before. "Maybe another time."

The girl's shoulders dropped visibly about half a foot. She sniffed, "Joo… Joo pwomise?"

"I swear it," smiled Senti. He looked down at the youngest boy who merely stood there sucking his thumb. "I'll come play with you tomorrow if you want."

A pair of twin girls Senti hadn't noticed at first suddenly spoke up, "We're not supposed to play with strangers."

"Mother says so."

"Well… I guess you should listen to your parents," said Senti again, feeling repetitive.

"I'll pway wif joo!" cried the pigtail girl, bouncing up and down. "And we'll bwing Matweev."

"That's Matriv," informed the oldest boy again. "And he won't want to come."

"Yes he will!" retorted the little girl.

"Alright, calm down," cooed Senti. The children instantly stopped fighting and gave him their full attention. Oops, he thought.

Suddenly a middle-aged woman ran over and grabbed the oldest boy and girl by the arms and tugged them away quickly, scolding them about doing the exact opposite that she had told them. Senti felt a pang of guilt at watching them be dragged away. "I guess you guys better run along before you get in trouble. If your parents say ok, I'll play with you tomorrow. I promise."

"See joo tomowo," waved the red haired girl. She walked up and patted Senti's head before turning away and running off, carrying her doll behind her.

Senti stood up and dusted his shirt off. He decided it was probably best to return to the Hold even though it wasn't near sunset yet. People were becoming a bit too wary. He happened to glance in the stall he was standing near and saw some very impressive jewelry. Taking a step over, he began to inspect the small pieces. They only jewelry he'd ever seen were the ones Tormen tried to make him wear, but these were different. Each one was different and they looked… homey.

A sound attracted Senti's attention, as he found a brown-haired man standing in front of him. He was slightly taller than Senti, and a bit more filled out muscle wise. He had deep blue eyes and his face held a smirk of amusement, although it held no maliciousness like Tormen's.

"Hello," offered Senti. The man simply smiled and offered a hand. Senti took it and shook. The man continued to simply stand there smiling. Senti could hear the man thinking something about humor and kids, but it seemed far off. His thoughts were more detailed than normal people's were. Why?

They continued to stare at each other for a while. "I don't know why the kids approached me, but I meant no harm," he finally said, tired of the staring game.

The man looked shocked, but not in a bad way. A thought of wonder passed through his mind.

"I'm sorry," Senti bowed his head slightly and turned to go. "I wasn't prying. It just happens naturally."

The man grabbed his arm to keep him there. So you can hear me though I cant talk?

Yes, Senti answered back without speaking. He had known about mental sounds since he was little, it had come naturally. What he didn't understand was why this guy's thoughts were so much clearer.

The man smiled and let go. He turned and rustled through a small box that had been sitting on a shelf by itself. He pulled out a small bracelet made of leather strips with small beads on it. He held it out to Senti.

Senti took it warily, not sure what to do with it. The man pointed at his wrist. Senti put it on, and observed the small token. It wasn't flashy or gaudy, but that made him like it more. "Thank you, but… I don't have any money on me."

I wasn't intending for you to pay. Feel free to come back tomorrow.

"Uh… Alright," answered Senti. He left the small stand and waved back at the guy who was continuously waving and smiling. When he returned to his room in the Hold he sat on the big fluffy bed and stared out the windows at the now setting sun. His life had taken such a drastic turn in such a short amount of time, he wasn't sure what to think. He had found some interesting people, although all but one of them were kids under 10.

I'm glad I chose to live all those times, he thought oddly before falling asleep.

Only because you were too afraid to die, a voice in the back of his head taunted that sounded awfully like Tormen.