A Breeze on the Water

[Regulus Grey]

Regulus clears his throat, then pitches his voice low and begins to sing.

“The Kingsword will stand.
The Kingsword will stand.

The Kingsword will stand
in its scabbard of granite
the quicksilver forged
in the pools of the sky

A rumour explained
by the one who began it
a boy’s hand will grasp it
a man’s raise it high

Son of the Dragon
of night and the slaughter
who’s wisdom
his unshaven youth with belie

Will wake from her slumber
the lake’s only daughter
to answer the calling
she cannot deny.”

He pauses, his voice was rough and unskilled when he sang and Regulus now seems embarrassed at singing in front of Christine.

“Those are the core phrases. The song continues to repeat after that..”

[Christine Daye]

Christine focuses on the song with a concentration that's eerie in its intensity.

"...thank you, dear Mr Raven... what fascinating lyrics! Obviously referencing Arthur's pulling the sword from the stone... though I have never heard him called Son of the Dragon... no..."

She seems to be searching her memory, but then moves on.

"...and the lake's only daughter... how fascinating! Do you know anything of the song's origins at all? Was it a folk song? And if so... where was it collected? ... oh, forgive me... Papa was a folklorist and collector of music... you see?"

[Regulus Grey]

“I can only presume that Arthur is referred to as Son of the Dragon beceause he is the child of Uther Pendragon?”

Regulus shrugs, gently resting one hand on Christine’s.

“It was a song I heard sung by my grand-Sire originally...but she heard it whilst in ‘Avalon’. I was not encouraged to ask questions unrelated to survival and fighting of my Sire and Grand-Sire. I’m sorry I don’t know more.”

[Christine Daye]

Christine laughs gently, self-deprecating.

"...of course! Silly me... to forget..."

A quiet humming, calm.

"...sires.... I met a fledgling recently... a cherished childe... and I feel sorry for them... for they do not appreciate, nor understand how lucky they are in their sire..."

She sighs, frowning slightly.

[Regulus Grey]

Regulus smiles

“The name of King Arthur’s father is not precisely knowledge everyone needs to know Ms Melody. It’s understandable that it would temporarily slip your mind.”

He snorts

“Oh that Childe...I hate my Sire. I fear my Sire...but I damn well learned from my Sire. Cruelty is often required to give appropriate emphasis to imparted knowledge. Pain is a good teacher.”

Regulus frowns

[Christine Daye]

"...just so... pain is a harsh teacher indeed.... strips you to the bone until you find that very core... the very centre of yourself... and you learn... or you die..."

Another sigh.

"...there are those who have been sheltered... who think that they have been hurt... that they know pain... when in truth... they know but the faintest shadow of it... living in a world of magic and moondust... where things simply happen because of talent... and beauty is not born from blood sweat and agonised effort... but instead falls from the heavens fully formed..."

She purses her lips, frowning again, but then deliberately schools her features.

"... this world is harsh, and even more so for us young... I pray for them... that they will survive... for the sakes of those who love them..."

[Regulus Grey]

“Nothing happens simply due to talent...hard work and graft is required to gain any true level of skill.”

He grimaces

“I too hope they survive. New blood needs to be injected into this court to keep us from stagnating.”

Regulus glances up as they turn into the street leading towards the theatre. He pats Christine on the hand.

“I shall walk you to the door Ms Melody, then I shall fly home.”

[Christine Daye]

Christine gives him a beaming smile.

"...yes... just so! You understand! Inspiration, but no skill, can lead nowhere. While skill can still create something valuable, even if it does not make the heart sing.... but there is joy in the serviceable things... not every table or chair or blanket needs to be a masterpiece!"

She giggles, then sobers.

"...new blood... yes... but mixing new with old... sometimes the clashes are..."

A sigh, a shake of her head. Then:

"...thank you, Mr Raven... you are very kind.... I do enjoy our conversations!"

[Regulus Grey]

“I quite agree Ms Melody, besides it’s probably a good thing that not every item in the world is master crafted. Otherwise the Toreodor Clan would likely have been wiped out centuries ago.”

Regulus grimaces

His scales...scales being torn out one by one...

He blinks and shakes his head.

“Yes, I am quite aware of what happens when new blood is injected into an already established system.”

He blinks slowly.

“I too enjoy our conversations Ms Melody, they are always enlightening.”

[Christine Daye]

"...very true! ... and I fear that the world would be the poorer, should the Toreador not exist... for all our failings... all the weaknessess of the blood..."

Her voice trails away as she loses the thread of our words, fading into a song.

"....Hickory, oak, pine and weed
Bury my heart underneath these trees
And when a southern wind comes to raise my soul
Spread my spirit like a flock of crows...

An abrupt jerk as she refocuses on Regulus, warned by his tone. For a moment, a heartbeat, she places her free hand upon his arm, gently, reassuring.

"...as you yourself said... pain teaches many things... and we have both learned... now we must take those lessons.. and grow..."

".... old heat of a raging fire
Come and light my eyes
Summer's kiss through electric wire
But I'll never die..."