The Tragedy of Finiale

The Tragedy of Finiale

by Friedrich Darnell

Somewhere upon the vast terra firma of Elsvyr lived a young fellow named Finiale. A man who left the household of his progenitor’s at a juvenile age, and took to residing in the woods, discovered an artistry for the stringed instrument. Finiale was lonely for many years, but found rapture in the humming utterances of his instrument, and passers-by would recognize the sweetness of his music, and it came to be known that this woodsman was the most prodigal musician in the land. Rarely approached, yet often mentioned in the hearsay of surrounding villages and towns, Finiale was eventually approached by a young girl belonging to the Chavanta family, and known under the name Vera. Entranced by the divinely inspired melodic musings of such a man, she found herself in love. Vera seduced Finiale with her uncommonly alluring appearance and charming demeanor and convinced him to join the family of the Chavantas in the town of Kathladur. The Chavantas were a wealthy family, held in high esteem, and with the addition of Finiale’s musical talents, wealthy patrons from all over the land came to hear his musical performances. Finiale was granted fine room, board, and a wife of most enviable beauty. He indulged in this new life of overabundance, in opposition to his past ascetic escapades. He grew fat with the finest meats in the land and grew to be indolent. The music Finiale lost its sweet wit, and Vera began to lose the love she once had for such a fellow. Vera soon fled the Chavanta household, eloping with a young, wealthy gentleman to the country of Aqua Artis. Finiale’s reputation was soon lost, as his music grew increasingly dissonant, full of loneliness and desire. The Chavantas banished Finiale soon thereafter, leaving him to pursue his former lover. Finale foraged for Vera all over Aqua Artis, playing dirges on city streets. Alas, after many years of searching, he found no lover of his and lay down to rest outside a brothel of Lore, drinking and weeping for the viability he once possessed. So as he laid he sung a mournful tune,

“A life uncertain is at once forgotten

a song unsung is never maddened

so I search this land where I was once begotten

fame, once tasted, cannot be abandoned

so man drinks from the breast of time

hoping our paths will not be trodden”