Daqiang was a master of the zither. Or, rather, he had mastered it enough to be considered a 'master' of it before his father forbid him from wasting his efforts on such frivolous pursuits that would do no him no good as a weapon of war for his people. It had been over 30,000 years since he touched an instrument.
His hands still knew the positions, though, when he allowed himself to settle them on the beautiful dark wood. The zither was larger than he recalled his being. But that was to be expected, wasn't it? The last time he'd played, he still had a nursemaid watching over him.
A refresher course was appropriate only because of the usefulness of the spell that would be learned with it. There was no other reason for him to pick it up again. No reason for his fingers to hesitate so or his breath to hitch just slightly. Not even the memory of his father ordering his nursemaid's death for teaching him such things. She was dead and Daqiang had no feelings.
Fey Fighters (General)
His hands still knew the positions, though, when he allowed himself to settle them on the beautiful dark wood. The zither was larger than he recalled his being. But that was to be expected, wasn't it? The last time he'd played, he still had a nursemaid watching over him.
A refresher course was appropriate only because of the usefulness of the spell that would be learned with it. There was no other reason for him to pick it up again. No reason for his fingers to hesitate so or his breath to hitch just slightly. Not even the memory of his father ordering his nursemaid's death for teaching him such things. She was dead and Daqiang had no feelings.
No reason at all.