From the heavy wooden doors at the High Citadel Theatre, the old burned out husk of a theatre now revitalized, a bard stepped out and began to strum his lute and hum. People from the street stop to listen, and some come from their booths and shops a street over. Immediately, everyone knew the song. It hadn’t been ten years since the young understudy, Elara, the song weaver, stole the light and love of the populace from the prima donna of the day and the vocal laureate of the king: Vespera Thorne.

Yet, on cue, Elara stepped from those same doors and began singing the song that brought her fame.

“Recall the light, let it break the sky / before the stars begin to die / reach through the veil, through the hollow night!”

The crowd reacted feeling the emotions well up within their chest and behind their eyes. They all listened and felt the power of the song weaver.

“Reach through the veil, through the hollow night / and give the blindest soul sight.”

Then, at that moment Duke Kaelen emerged from the crowd clapping his hands loudly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, so very wonderful. Well, audience, what did you think? Let’s give Elara some praise!” He raised his hands again to cheer her on and the whole crowd erupted in hoots and hollers.

Kaelen began to walk up the steps.  

“And you all can hear Elara sing in the fully restored Theatre!” He shouted over the throng.

The crowd erupted in jubilation and excitement. Elara cupped her hands over her focus and their joy and the duke walked over and embraced her. The crowd cheered louder. Then the heavy wooden doors to the theatre slammed shut with an unexpected show of force.

Elara shuddered in Kaelen’s arms. The duke shook as well.

“It’s been ten years.” She whispered to him.

Kaelen nodded, “We sealed up the tunnels and cleared out the old ruins.” He replied. “No one can be hiding in there still.”

Ten Years Earlier:

The Summer Solstice fair was the highlight of the summer festivities. The whole kingdom celebrated with treats and activities until the sun finally set late into the third watch and then the sky would erupt in a display of fireworks.

At the High Citadel Theatre, everyone was abuzz with the preparations. Duke Kaelen had been spreading word that the great playwright and song weaver, Madame Giry had written a play just for the festival and she had written the penultimate song of her illustrious career to be performed by Prima Donna Lady Vespera Thorne herself. Furthermore, the performance to be held on the solstice would be free to everyone to attend.

“Are you sure, Your Grace, that it is wise to promote a free event for the rabble?” Sir Duncan, the current owner of The High Citadel Theatre asked as the duke entered once more.

“Of course, Duncan. Nothing to worry about.” Kaelan smiled and patted the man’s corpulent cheek. “You see, I expect that we will bring in twice the costs to perform the show within the first week. As word spreads, we will sell more seats, old chap. This is to be the achievement of your career. And the beginning of mine.” Kaelen went through the doors into the inner auditorium and past the benches to stand on the earthen floor before the stage where the troubadours were busy tuning their instruments.

The warm winds of summer swirled through the open roof, and the rich sounds of the festivities all around along with all the smells of the fancy food filled Kaelen’s lungs. He grew hungry and hopped onto the stage. The actors usually kept fruit somewhere in the back so the actors could snack and eat nervously.

As the duke went around a corner he heard shouting. The screeching sounds of Lady Vespera Thorne. She was angry and she was yelling and she was about to damage her voice before the rehearsal.

“You dolt! You son of a dog! This is not the cotton of the Kashhite. It is to rough and scratch.” She growled the last words out as she dragged the fabric across the page boys face.

For all that she tried to humiliate him, the page boy came away from the assault smiling. The cotton chemise was probably far softer than anything the boy owned or had felt. Plus, he was being assaulted by the Lady Thorne herself. That story alone would earn him a loaf and some mead at the pub.

“I cannot wear this. It is too painful.” Lady Thorne whined.

Duke Kaelen knocked on the door before opening it. Lady Thorne had thrown herself over the small vanity in her room, one of the candles toppling to the floor and extinguishing there. The page picked up the candle and reset the wick.

“I’m sorry, Lady Thorne, I heard you were in distress. Is there anything I can do?” The duke enquired.

Lady Thorne rose from her chair and rushed to him, throwing herself upon his chest and hiding her face in his shoulder.

“It is too terrible. I can’t. This boy, he tried to harm me. He brought that– that thing here and it hurt my skin.” She moaned.

The boy looked at the chemise in his hands confused.

The duke winked at him and motioned for him to leave the room.

“Lady Thorne, I am so sorry. You know, these lads from the farms, they don’t know burlap from cashmere. Let me find you another dressing shirt, will you let me do that for you?”

Lady Thorne looked up at the duke. Real tears were resting in her eyes. No wonder she was the most beloved song weaver, she commanded her emotions as she commanded her heart to beat.

“You would do this for me?”

The duke smiled, “Of course I would. Give me but a lamp’s shake and I’ll be right back with a new chemise for you.”

“Oh, thank you dear, dear Kaelen.” She used his familiar name instead of his title.

The duke straightened and smiled at Lady Thorne, though it troubled him. “I will send the page shortly.”

And with that he left her room while Lady Thorne went and toppled upon a bench. In the hallway he found the page and gave him a full silver crown. “Wait ten minutes then take that chemise back into her and this time tell her Duke Kaelen sends it with his regards.” The duke winked again and walked off to find a snack.

Yet, deeper into the belly of the theatre, something new caught his attention. Someone’s voice. Warbling. Rising. Rolling. A breath then a crescendo of glorious sound. The duke followed the musical notes. Until he found a small room shielded by only a worn curtain.

Kaelen stood there in silence for a moment considering where to knock or if to knock. But as he stood, the silence was quickly filled with a soft woman’s voice.

“How was that? Don’t push the sound? What do you mean?”

Silence pursued for another moment, except for the rustling and mumbling– maybe. The duke raised his knuckles preparing to knock once more.

“You say I need to stop singing from my mind. Oh I know, I need to sing from my heart, but it’s– Okay, I can do that.” The woman spoke so cheerfully.

The duke knocked on the stones.

“Yes!” The woman within called.

The duke moved the curtain aside and flashed his brightest smile. “My apologies, my lady, but I heard–”

Kaelen grew speechless as he saw the young maiden before him. Her auburn hair pulled into a thick braid over her shoulder and her green eyes flashing him a bit of shock and curiosity.

“Oh, you’re the duke! I mean your grace. You are the– you’re one of the patrons.” She bowed deeply before him. “I’m Elara, my liege.”

Kaelen laughed. “Please, rise, my dear. And, I am a mere duke. The title is ‘My Lord’, but you may simply call me Kaelen, please.”

“Oh, sir, I can’t – I can’t do that. You’re a– You’re a–”

“A man asking you to call him Kaelen.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Are you in the cast of this new production?”

“Oh, yes. I am. I will play the milk maid and I am in the chorus.” Elara blushed.

“A chorus girl?” Kaelen seemed surprised. “You are far more talented than that.”

“Oh, no, I’m–”

Kaelen held up his hand. “Nonsense, I will speak to Duncan immediately.” He turned, refusing to hear another word of protest. Then he turned back to face her.

“Who were you talking to?”