Heldon couldn’t tear his eyes away from Tival even if the tavern had started to burn down. The unfamiliar melody Tival strummed started out slow and steady, instilling the tavern with a relaxing rhythm.
“A vampire bard, never thought I’d see the night or day.” The covenless vampire at the bar lifted his cup in a toast.
Heldon barely paid him any mind, still hypnotized by Tival’s dexterous fingers moving up and down the fretboard and his curls bouncing to the beat. Then, unexpectedly, Tival straightened up, glanced over to their table, and started to sing. His rich amber voice resonated in perfect harmony with the melody he played.
What Tival was singing, he had no idea, for it was in a language he’d never studied. Yet, what he did know was when the song picked up the pace to a jaunty, zesty tempo was that Tival was enjoying himself.
“This is one of my favorites!” Shrai whistled to Tival only in the way werewolves could.