Reishon's mind eagerly soaked up any knowlege released by Nicholas. He was not so long out of the Academy that his mind had lost the habit of learning, and he intended to take every advantage it gave him. Observe. Just listen t' where y' are, feel the rythm... Take a flute that feels right... His mind kept on repeating everything that Nicholas said, driving it home. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, I'll finally find somethin' I'm good at, somthin' that don't stem from war, somthn' that don't need me t' keep myself scared to m' wit's end... Just maybe... And so he followed Nicholas, too engaged in learning to much notice, or care, weather they were heading into a wheat field or the river, the city or the plains, on a road or through the countryside. Just following, and listening, until such a time as Nicholas ceased walking and talking.

nicholas found a spot of especially soft grass and smiling commented- "this is the spot!" holding the flute with his fingers covering the first few holes, and thne listing the notes, changing his postions, repeating this a few times and handing the flute to him. "we're running out of light so we can go to the britania after we lose it, for now though, just play the note i say and get your fingers used to it on their own- starting with: A major, B minor, C major.

Reishon sat down with Nicholas, pasuing only to take off his hat and put it sunny-side down on the ground before sitting on it. He grinned and said, "If you've a hat, y' might wanna put it down like I did n' sit on 'at. Helps keep y' healthy, y'see. If y' don't, I suppose a coat or even jacket might work in a pinch. Just som'm besides your pants is all." Reishon grinned again and sat down and continued to listen while his mind buisily tucked everything away. When Nicholas instructed him to play the notes, Rieshon stared blankly for a few moments while he recalled the relevent information. Place fingers there, there, and there, relax lips, blow with strength but control... He brought the flute up to his lips, pausing only to pull out a handkerchief from his pocket and thoroughly clean the mouthpiece and mutter something about sanitation. He blew, and the sound the flute issued could best be discribed as a dying bird. He laughed, and noted how much like medecine the flute seemed to be. It was one thing to know that a deep cut is best give cross-stiches, doubling back when needed. It was completely another to do so on a writhing soldier in the middle of a pitched battle when you're already hard-pressed to maintain bladder control. In short, not too hard to know, but strangly challenging to execute. Reishon brought it back up to his lips and, after a few modifications to tequnique, tried again. While far from pretty, the sound that issued could be loosly discribed as a musical note. Temporarily surpressing his delight, he reranged his fingers and tried again, this time for the next note. And a few retries and finger shifts later, he had strung together three notes. Beaming, Reishon pulled out his handkerchief and cleaned the mouthpiece again before offering it back to Nicholas, ready for more instructions.

nicholas smiled and spoke: "your a quick learner!, try standing up, it's easier to properly control your breath when your not sitting... though for me... *sits doen on his coat* same notes, just standing this time, and try to breath from your diaphramand chest, not your ribs *nods encouragly and hands him the flute*

Reishon nodded, retrieved his hat and stood, accepting the flute with a smile. Donning both his hat and a concentrated expression, he raised the flute, took a deep breath, and with the snail pace of a begniner who wants to do things right the first time, produced three rough notes. Spending absolutely no effort in hidding his joy this time, he gave Nicholas a grin holding the sincerity and delight that one might find in a child.

nicholas smiled with pride, he had just met Reishon, and he had just done in a day what had taken Nicholas a week, which he informed reishon of such- "took me a week to get a clear note out, and you just did three." *nods with an excited expresion* ummmm... lets try a few more notes, you pick, em this time, * hums the full scale. * i'll listen, and correct you if need be. *smiles and leans back *

Reishon pondered for a moment before picking a few notes he thought would sound good together. Of course, in his exitement he just forgot most of what had just been taught, and consiquentially reseructing his dying bird noise. After wincing and re-adjusting, he tried again, only to find that the notes were somewhat discordent when placed consecutively. Whereas his previous atempt had conjured an image of an unfortunate blue jay, complete with arrow, this more reminded Reishon of a pubescent boy he had once seen, who had tried to sing a song right in that range where every other note made his voice crack. Frowning, he turned to Nicholas asking, "How's it that y' made them all sound good like? I mean, how's it that y' know how t' pick good notes, 'stead of ones that don't work too good together?"

nicholas laughed in a good natured way " dont' be tring to get a-head of ya self, your good, but evne so gonna take longer than a day... annoying answer: practice. useful hints, repetion, once you find something that works,do it untill you've mastered that, then find something else that works, repeat... then when you need to use it, you can, string these things you'vemastered together , and you got a song, do this enough times, and you can play a song of any sort. so don't worry how it sounds, jsut play untill oyu find chords you like, or... *rumeges through his pack* aha! *pullso ut some bent sheet muisic* use these! i knew i had forgetten something, try ummm.. this one *hands him the pile with a song on top* muisic writing comes with playing, play enough songs, you'll know what sounds good ya know?

Reishon's browed furrowed as the corners of his mouth turned slightly down in the barest hint of a frown. He had never learned to read sheet music, and while that is to be expected from one who had no musical training, the entire situation was begining to make him feel uncomfortable. In general, he was more used to knowing the answers, or at least being able to fake it and look them up in some book soon thereafter, but now he found himself lost, almost as if he were reliving his early days of ignorence at the Academy. But no, this was diferent. Here there were no students to critizise, and he doubted that his teacher would look down on him for not knowing. Trying to shake the feeling, Rieshon joked, "Y' might want t' be treatin' me more like a baby than someone what's all grown up when it comes t' music. 'Cause those symbols there? It's all in Quchit t' me!" He laughed, but the feeling was still there. He took the papers from Nicholas, and stared at them for a while, noting how the strange circles and lines could just as easily have been words like "abcess" or "pulmonary artieries". A few seconds later, after this new thought was re-absorbed by his mind, he realized that in a way, he was back in school, only rather than learning about death and how to stave it off, he was learning about life and how to live it. On the battlefield, one would naturally see men or women with mortal wounds that, by rights should, have felled them within a minute. But with astonishing frequency, scores of those indaviduals would desperately grasp for life, clinging to the thin thread which suspends them above the abyss for the endless minutes between when the sword or spear enters their body to when a medic arrives to try to repair the often irreperable. Yet still of the score that fell, there will always be one or two that against all odds hold out and endure the suffering done unto them rather than accept Gnosis' blessing and pass peacefully into a world of tranquility. Was it this feeling that fueled them? Was this feeling why they would face death and walk away, often missing a limb or lung, and be grateful to be alive? Reishon smiled. He had been born eighteen years ago, but now, because of a chance encounter with a stranger in the barracks, he would finally start to live.

Not discouraged at all by his students momentary lapse, nick smiled and simply replied "that is something a little more difficult to show, and also it is getting late and time is right for drinks and a warm fire to better learn such things, what's a good place around here? (abrutly changes the subject) you know with practice, you are going to do wonders, lets work on geting you to read notes while we search for a flute that suits that fits your spirit" *smiles* --- (note that here my real knowlege drops alost comepletly, as i myslef can barly/if at all read sheet muisic hah.)

Reishon blinked, realizing that he had been staring off into space. The feeling faded slightly. When the spells started flying and the swords resumed their flashing, pondering the meaning of life wouldn't might let him keep his head in the sense of the expression, but it would most certainly aid him in losing his actual cranium and all its contents. Mentally reminding himself to keep aware of his suroundings at all times, he grined, half at Nicholas' comment, and half at yet another realization, this time highlighting how in many ways, what he needed for survival and what he needed for music, awareness of surroundings, coincided. "Yup, I know me a place. It's none too fancy, so should be within our little budget. I think it was called th' Barnacle, or somethin', o'er at the edge o' th' temple district. I used t' go there back when I was still in th' academy. They had this great dish, some kinda fish n' cooked vegetable mix, but I can't remember th' name. They were some kind o' small-time food, for before the main course, y' know? Ah, well. Maybe I'll remember it when we get there." Reishon stood, picking up his hat, shaking it a bit, then putting it back on his head. "Maybe I should get y' a hat or somthin', t' give y' somethin' back for the flute lessons. They're really good t' have. If you're hot, y' can wet you're hat n' let the desert wind coll y' down, it helps prevent heat-stroke, and o' course it pevents flesh damage from th' damnable sun." He offered Nicholas a hand to help him up, ready to start their treck all the way over to the Temple district.

the boy accepted the hand getting up with a natural yet essential grace that suited his trade. you've gotten too close to death my friend... if it randomly get's ta ya like this. and a cap' would do me well, thankee. Though you already offer'd dinner, i'll teke ya on the offer if your willing. Though doubt i'll need to worry about my skin getting damaged by the sun *laughs* it'd be pref'ring sunsets damaging my skin to the more likly case of sei's steel. he starts to walk towards the temple district (changes subjects quickly agian)and sings: to the rock in temples hall from which the Barnacle calls medic and solgier all- *plays a fun little tune on the flute which Reishonjust reliezed had dispiered from his hands* for fish and stew and small time food where to for food, and more! a lass perhaps o-ho! perhaps one more o-ho if all goes well the'll leave us sore and then, (laughs)make us sore some more o-ho to a rock where Barnacles show to temple district we go.

Arlette's platoon had been moved back to Tellus for the time being for recovery. They had suffered casualties and a great many of the soldiers that had survived were wounded in one fashion or another. Even she hadn't managed to avoid injury, though hers were less severe than some of the others. Just scratched up. Those of her platoon that weren't in the military hospital were stationed in the Barracks. That last attack had gone badly despite Arlette's best attempts at providing cover. And it had been a very long, and painful march back to Tellus. Arlette had to deal with the guilt of a death of a young man under her command, a stone mage that had gotten a hero complex. He had saved the lives of several soldiers though, which she was thankful for. So there she was, instead of on the front lines, she was sitting in the mess hall of the barracks stirring around some.... mashed up... watered down... something or other that they were feeding the soldiers right now. This was probably the accumulation of left overs from the last day or two. It didn't taste too bad, but you had to get over the look of it to actually force yourself to put it in your mouth. She looked up and glanced around, there weren't any familiar faces around, or very many faces in the first place. The mess hall was mostly deserted right now, as it wasn't close to a meal time so she was sitting there alone with her thoughts and her bowl of what she could only call gruel. Her thoughts turned then to considering another letter to Halyn. She had inquired upon her arrival at the barracks if there was any word or record of the man, but there was none. Perhaps he was away at sea, having been recruited by the Navy and was now away at sea for so long that he never received her letters. But that was ridiculous, the military would have held the post until he had docked and he would have come to port at least once by now. She shook her head to lose that train of thought and stood, returning her bowl and then back to her seat. she wasn't hungry and she'd rather sit there and drum her fingers against the table top than stare at possibly the least appealing food she'd ever seen, and she had seen a lot of unappealing food. (I figure this is the best place for Arlette to start. If i'm wrong, lemme know.:3)