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Silly One-shots: Forgotten Memory (One-Shot)

by Shiny Lyni

Shiny Lyni During a break, Ammon, cleric of the god of magic Nethys, has a short conversation with Vanya, a sylph sorceress. Based off of shenanigans from my Hell's Rebels campaign (Ammon is my character, Vanya is my friend's character).
Ammon leafed through his book, not really reading anything as he turned the pages. He’d read this particular novel a few times already and could probably memorize it word for word at this point. It was a story about a group of heroes who came together to defeat a great evil; one member of the group, however, betrayed the rest, and spent the rest of the novel fighting against them before sacrificing himself to save his former friends. An ending as cliched as any other, and yet, the story still spoke to him somehow.

“What’re you doing there?” He looked around and saw one of his newer companions leaning over his shoulder behind him. She was a blue-skinned lady, her hair fluttering lightly behind her, though there was no wind. Her name was Vanya, if he remembered correctly.

“Just doing some reading,” he said. “There’s not much to do on this boat, unfortunately, so our options for entertaining ourselves are… limited at best.”

“Reading is so boooooring!” Vanya said with a pout. “I’m sure there are other things we can do!”

Ammon raised an eyebrow. “Like?”

“Like…” she tapped her finger against her chin, before brightening up. “I know! We could make some music!”

“Music.”

“Oh, please, I know you know what music is. You’re a priest, there’s gotta be musicians at whatever temple you came from who sang hymns to that god of yours- what’s their name again? Nethord?”

“Nethys. Nethord’s that horned friend of yours you play card games with.”

“Whatever, point is, you gotta know how to sing at least!”

Ammon sighed. “I’m not much of a singer myself, I’m afraid.”

“Well, it’s simple! You just open your mouth and sing. Easy, right?”

“I’m sure there’s more to singing than just that.”

Vanya rolled her eyes. “You’re just being difficult now. Here, I’ll show you.” And without even waiting for Ammon to respond, she sat up straighter and lifted her chin, letting the song spill out of her lips.

The song itself wasn’t anything special; it sounded like a song the old miners of the town of Kintargo might have sung. However, the melody was beautiful, and Vanya’s voice seemed to drift through the air like dandelions in the wind: soft and serene. Ammon wondered if even the goddess of music Shelyn herself would be jealous of the woman’s talent.

The pacing of the song picked up slightly, and Ammon felt like he’d been transported to another time- a time quite different from his own, but still filled with heroes and rebellion like the Kintargo he’d grown up in. He imagined himself in the old Opera House, his companion’s voice echoing hauntingly around him. He closed his eyes, and felt himself smiling.

“Hello? Hey!” Ammon felt someone push him harshly from the back, and his eyes flew open. He blinked once, then once more, trying to adjust his eyesight. “Oh for Milani’s sake, did you have to doze off again?”

“Oh, wow, I’m sorry that I’m not a singer myself!” he found himself saying sarcastically, though his voice sounded strange. Less nasally, and a touch… huskier? He looked up at the person talking to him and got a better look at her. She had long hair pulled back into a braid running down her back, revealing her short, pointed ears. He felt like she looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite put where he’d seen her before.

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching him, and turned his head towards the noise. He saw a halfling hobbling over, careful not to trip over the long robe trailing behind him. “Now, now, we’re here to support Kyda. We should not be speaking so loudly, lest we distract her,” the halfling said.

Ammon waved his hand dismissively. “I know, I know. Look, I actually am sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to fall asleep. It’s just… been a long day.”

“Indeed it has,” said someone else. Ammon saw a masked figure walk over to him, a touch of confidence in each step. “It would do us all well to rest for a while once this is all through. But the Silver Ravens cannot rest until Kintargo is safe.”

Ammon nodded in agreement. “Until Kintargo is safe…” he repeated, muttering the words to himself.

“Hm? Did you say something?”

Ammon blinked again, suddenly aware that the singing had stopped. He jerked himself up, only for his forehead to knock against something in front of him- hard.

“Hey!” Vanya cried, falling down next to him. “What was that for?”

Ammon clutched his head. “I’m… Where did you learn that song?”

“What, no ‘I’m sorry’s or ‘Are you okay’s?” Vanya asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Now will you answer the question?”

“Yeah, fine.” Vanya rubbed her head a couple times before sitting back up, careful to keep her distance so as not to cause another accident. “It’s just a tune I picked up from my father. He used to sing it to me when I was a kid.”

“I see,” he said. Ammon looked at her, and for a second he thought he saw someone else in her place- someone older and smaller, but with the same bright curiosity in her eyes. But the feeling was gone as quickly as it came, as he realized Vanya was waving her hand vigorously in his face. “What?”

“You keep zoning out,” she said with a frown. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“I’m- I’m the weirdo? You’re the one who nearly died to wyvern poison!”

“Yeah, and thanks for nothing for that!”

“I saved your life, dipshit!” he said.

Vanya shrugged. “Whatever. You’re boring, I think I’m going to go bother Nethys now.”

“Nethys is my deity, I think you mean-”

“Good bye, Brasiki!” she said, before floating away towards their tiefling party member.

Ammon sighed and shook his head. Deities, just his luck to get caught up with a group of dumbasses. He turned his attention towards his book, though a thought kept nagging him in the back of his head as he tried to read. Brasiki...

Why did that name sound so familiar?