The Musician's Lover

It has been weeks since Asia returned safe and sound and over time I have begun to dwell less and less on Sven, reconciling myself to the fact that I may never see him again.

Recently there arrived a new fellow at the House, seeking employent from Asia as a hired bodyguard. There is something peculiar about him that I don't like. I don't think Marius trusts him either, for he didn't miss the chance to grill the hopeful recruit and delve into all sorts of personal questions that clearly made the man known as Xenon squirm under the line of fire. I am convinced that this is because my Master truly cares for Asia, even if he doesn't show it outwardly.

One evening while Marius and I were out, the newly hired guardsman had showed up to visit Asia. I learned this when I had returned home earlier than my Master, and while still out in the yard I was stunned by a man hiding in the tall copse of bushes who'd suddenly lept out at me. Covering my mouth from crying out, he told me that Sven was waiting on the road for me on the far side of the Vineyard. And once I had gathered my wits about me again, I nodded in the man's overpowering embrace, complying with his wish that I accompany him that very moment.

Once we reached the end of the road, I saw Sven standing there. He was holding in his hands, a paper-wrapped parcel the exact size and shape of what could only be... my portrait! I was elated that he had brought it to me personally, and I ran to him the remainder of the way.

"I brought you a gift, Damos." He said this with a smile I shall never forget as long as I live. And once again I was compelled. This time to throw my arms about him and draw him into several shameless kisses. I cared not that his cohort looked on, boredly uncomfortable. Sven only laughed, and then he told me I should not tear away the paper and peek. Not until I got home.

I loved him. I love him still. And when he and his cohort turned to go, I myself ran all the way back home.

I suppose then that it was the commotion of my entrance that drew Asia and finally her newly hired guardsman out from their private cubby, for as they both peered into the Atrium, there I was already on my knees and ripping away the paper wrappings. My portrait! And true to his word, he'd not charged me a single tarskbit! Sven is the best friend I have ever had.

But I was suddenly confused, for there on the canvas was not my own smiling image... but Asia's. Naked and posed like a pleasure slave! Could she see the surprise in my eyes as I glanced up from the portrait to her... and finally the face of her guardsman peering over her shoulder from behind? I'm sure she could, and did. She wanted to see the portrait, too. But I could not allow this. Once again, I am afraid for Sven.

I turned and fled from Asia, who only called out after me adamantly to halt myself in my tracks as she attemped to chase me up the stairs. But I was faster, and I locked myself in my Master's private apartments on the third floor... where I have hidden away the Portrait for safekeeping. It is mine.

Sven gave it to me, and it is mine.

Paint Your Palette Blue & Gray

Vincent
Don McClean

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul

Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They
would not listen
They did not how
Perhaps they'll listen now

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue

Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry
night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you

Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget

Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They did not listen
They're not listening still
Perhaps they never will

Ransom Note

Funny how a small series of seemingly unrelated events can culminate into a much larger picture, a much larger explosion. Catastrophe. In the end, I am forbidden to ever see Sven again.

In the beginning, my heart was set upon making Marius and Asia see one another with different eyes. It should make no difference that each barely tolerates the other, or finds the other insufferable to a fault. I belong to Marius. Be default, I am unable to propose a contract of joining to Asia. Is it wrong to seek such vicariously through one who would serve as surrogate then? Because Marius is free, and he is free to enjoy such legal liberties.

Neither of them took my impromptu suggestion well. In fact, both seemed embarrassed and aggitated by it. Marius was the only to lash out at me, however. He struck me across the face and shoved me away from him, forbidding me to speak of a joining between he and Asia ever again.

Stung with humiliation, I left the house and went down to the beach where I remained for several ahn. When I returned home again, I was not empty handed, but had brought with me a fair share of live crabs, and I figured this would appease Asia, whom I also angered earlier that night. Marius had long since gone to bed but Asia was nowhere to be found in the house.

Within a few moments, Asia's thrall who dresses himself in women's things and wears women's makeup, came charging into the house screaming and yelling hysterically that the lady had been kidnapped by the Artist. He informed me that she was going to die and that I would never see her again. And then he took off running again to town, to go and make formal accusations against free men. A slave.. charging men with crimes. He seems to feel this is both his right and duty. I have a feeling his days are soon shortened and numbered.

I went to see Sven, because I wanted to hear him say with his own lips and tongue, that the thrall is a lunatic and makes extremely dangerous accusations about free persons. Sven does not know Asia, nor has he seen any woman fitting her description. And I was much relieved. I never believed Sven capable of extortion and taking hostages. He also offered to paint my portrait at last.. and without charging me a single tarskbit. He is kind, and I know he loves me.

It was during my visit that a stranger showed up with a Letter from Asia addressed to me. Rufus read it aloud in my hearing, and it was Asia saying she had been shipwrecked somewhere near the Isle of Talbot on her way to Thanta Island. I was instructed to return to the House and find her money in the vanity drawer in her room, then bring it to a certain Captain also named in the letter, so that he could promptly sail out to Talbot Isle and rescue her. I followed the instructions implicitely and delivered the whole sum of twenty-six silver tarsks and seventy-three copper tarsks to the named Captain. Rufus accompanied me to the House and back, ensuring I was not robbed by anyone while bearing such a large amount of money.

Asia was delivered home, safe and sound by the next day. But I learned, much to my own heartbreak, that Sven used me as an accomplice to collect a ransom for a hostage he was holding. I still have a difficult time accepting this as truth, and I want to run to the Artist and bury myself in his arms. Although I am forbidden to ever see Sven again. Asia says he is a dangerous man and she does not want me hurt.

He has something that she wants, however, but so far she has not named the item in particular. Marius offered legal councel, because he seems to think that Asia is contemplating engaging in something criminal. I have offered to retrieve this thing for her. If only I knew what it is that she seeks from Sven.

If only I could see him one more time.