Fraggle fic: The Minstrel's Path

[Slackbot]

Once again, thank you for maintaining that FFLI. It is an incredibly useful tool, both for newbs looking for fics to read and longtimers looking for something they remember. You rock.

As for reducing or eliminating the in-progress section--it seems the only way to do that would be to put the stone-cold fics (say, that haven't been updated in a year) in the dead stories section, and only keeping stories that show signs of life in the in-progress area. If the authors object, let them do some writing to prove that the story is still alive!

 

[The Count]

That's why I contacted all (or mostly all) authors with outstanding stories, saying that unless they say so, after one year's time which should be more than enough for them to come and write something to show they're still "in-progress" they'll be moved to the graveyard.

*Leaves muffins for Kim and her Fraggles.

 

[Slackbot]

That makes sense. I don't know how many people read stories listed as in-progress, really. I avoid unfinished stories that aren't actively in progress because reading only part of a tale frustrates me. I try not to be that kind of author; if I start a story I'm dang well gonna stick with it to the bitter end!

Mmm, muffins. I'll save one for Derpy. She loves muffins.

 

[Slackbot]

The Minstrel's Path​

Part 17​

by Kim McFarland​

​

*****

It's been fun, but now I've got to go.​

Life is way too short to take it slow.​

But before I go and hit the road,​

Tell me when, when can I see you again?​

​

-- from When Can I See You Again by Owl City​

*****

Water sprinkled down into a pond. The stalactites above were long and thin, like crystals, and hollow. Fraggles enjoyed their continuous light drizzle as they swam and played.

The Minstrels were making music at one side of the Central Cavern. They now numbered four. Brio had joined them when she felt ready to leave her home colony. This had come as a surprise to no one. She had been hanging around the Minstrels as long as they had been visiting her colony, and Cantus, recognizing her talent, had been subtly instructing and testing her. She met his challenges and asked for more, and showed the intuition and understanding that a Minstrel needed. By the time she asked to join them she had already been accepted.

Murray and Cantus had been traveling for a long, long time. For people who reckoned time in terms of days rather than years it was an uncountably long time. So, they didn't bother to count it. It was long enough for them to have become established as honorary members of the colonies they regularly visited, and for Cantus to have accepted more than a few midsummer invitations.

Brool had been a Minstrel for years now, and he was glad he had fallen in with this group. Their mission of uniting the rock with music was not mumbo-jumbo; music could bypass barriers and bring people together. It was sad that his own people eschewed music as childish, and even sadder that they considered war a more appropriate pastime. He was lucky to have been left to perish, then found by Cantus and Murray.

Although the Fraggle philosophy of life could be summed up as 'play now, worry later' they were not as hopelessly frivolous as they appeared. In times of crisis they would band together without hesitation. Anyone who thought Fraggles weak and foolish had never seen them protect a child from a predator or dig someone out of a rockslide. They didn't always succeed, but they always tried. In Brool's opinion, that was brave indeed.

When they weren't frolicking they showed other admirable qualities, too. They loved their children, and although their family arrangements appeared slipshod, they worked and made them happy. Certainly someone who had offspring in half a dozen colonies wouldn't be considered wise among Brool's kind. But those children had been born because Cantus was so highly respected as a sage. And nobody thought twice about his children being raised by others. After all, that's how it had been planned from the beginning.

Brool found it strange and interesting that although all the Fraggle colonies they had visited shared the same basic culture, they had different rituals and special days. One would honor the summer solstice; another would ignore that day but have a festival for their breeding season, which came at midsummer. Some regarded that not as a time of festival, but simply a time to be enjoyed, and another considered it a very personal time, to be observed in private by its participants. In some colonies people chose their birthdays, in others they held them any time a Fraggle wanted to celebrate having been born, and one colony had a big birthday party at the beginning of Spring called the Birthday of the World, and on that day everyone was one year older. Brool had initially found it baffling—all of the tribes of his own kind had the same rituals and sacred days, though they agreed on little else—but, as Murray told him, don't worry about it, because it works for them. And, he thought, the staggered schedule allowed the Minstrels to travel, lending their music to whatever event the current colony was celebrating.

This colony had a unique springtime ritual. If any babies were born that year, they would be brought to the pool to be named and officially welcomed into the colony. Cantus officiated at that ceremony, despite not being a resident. The reason for that was sitting among Minstrels' current audience.

The Minstrels finished playing and put down their instruments. A little green girl—one much furrier than the others in the colony, evidence of her ancestry—who had been eagerly listening jumped up and grabbed Cantus's hand, exclaiming in a high, piping voice, "Come swim!"

He smiled and, after taking off his robe, let the child half his size drag him over to the pond, which was already populated with Fraggles of various ages. She flopped in with a splash, and he slid into the water after her.

A splash fight broke out. Everyone got splattered indiscriminately from all directions. Almost indiscriminately; the green girl made a point of aiming for Cantus. He retaliated by cupping his hands at the surface of the water and sending a blinding wave back at her.

*

After the day's horseplay had run its course the Fraggles ate their evening meal. The colony ate together, with many Fraggles contributing. Some gathered food from the cavern gardens. Others cooked it. The children who tended the gardens by weeding and caring for the plants made sure to let everyone know when food they had helped to grow was served.

The Minstrels were eating together. Brool, being a carnivore, had his own provisions, which he had hunted in the tunnels between colonies. Cantus was quiet, eating without paying much attention to his food, a faraway look in his eyes. Murray knew that look. He had something on his mind. It couldn't be anything to worry about, though. Lately life had been pretty easy. They traveled between a set of colonies, and were welcome everywhere they went.

After they finished eating Cantus said, "We must move on."

"Right now?" Murray asked.

"Tomorrow morning. We will go that way," he said, gesturing to the south.

Murray gave him a funny look. "There's no exit on that side."

"That is why we must go in that direction."

Brool said "You want to explore? Why?"

Cantus nodded. "Why indeed."

Murray said, "Seems like we've done what we set out to do, uniting the rock with music. What's out there for us?"

"Exactly."

Murray sighed. "Cantus," he said, looking the Fraggle in the eyes, "everyone says there's nothing out there but beasts."

There was a time for mystery, Cantus knew, and a time for answers. "Who is this 'everyone' who knows so much? Have any of these Fraggles ever left the safety of their colony? Murray, we began this journey years ago by walking into the unknown, and look where it has led us. We have done well thus far, as you said. But the journey is not over yet. If we stop now we will simply be playing pretty tunes and wondering what else we might have done. That isn't enough for me."

Murray studied him for a moment, then said, "You really think there's somebody out there?"

"I really do."

Murray shook his head, then said, "That was enough for me when we started out. Okay, I'm in."

Cantus looked at Brool and Brio. Brio just nodded. Brool said, "I don't understand, but I'm used to that."

Murray told him, "It comes with being a Minstrel. Cantus is the only one who knows what he's doing, though sometimes I'm not sure he does, either."

Cantus smiled and nodded.

*

When the Minstrels packed up their bedrolls the next day, the other Fraggles turned out to wish them a good journey. The little green girl hugged Cantus around the middle and said brightly, "Bye!"

He knelt and told her, "We may be gone for a long time, Clio-"

"How long?" she interrupted.

"Many, many days."

"You always go for many, many days," she scoffed.

"This time it may be many, many, many days."

"That's a long time!"

"But however long it takes, I will come back. Remember that."

"Are you going to find new songs?" she asked.

"I hope so."

"Then sing them to us when you come back."

He chuckled. "I will."

She hugged him again, then whispered in his ear, "Bye, Papa." She knew he wasn't really her Papa; he hadn't raised her. But she loved her sire, and called him that anyway. It was their secret.

"I love you. Goodbye," he said softly.

He stood and raised his pipe. As the music began, the Minstrels walked out of the Central Cavern.

*

They exited via a side passage, then took a branch that led south. Cantus led them, playing the Magic Pipe, which warded off many dangerous cave creatures. Murray, following close behind, blazed their trail by marking cave formations every so often. They could easily add large passages to their mental maps, but these twisty little tunnels could be tricky.

*

They walked for several days through dark passages. Darkness was dangerous. Ditzies, the tiny creatures whose bodies lit the caves, lived on the songs of the colonies' inhabitants. Where there were no people, there was no song, and the caves were dark. It was fortunate that some Ditzies had followed them, feeding on their music.

The Minstrels were worried. All, that was, except Cantus. He strode forward into the unknown as if perfectly at home. Either he was sure they would soon find other people, Murray thought, or he was very good at pretending he was. But he trusted Cantus, and followed him.

*

Their faith was rewarded when the tunnel they had been following opened into a larger room. They could see how big it was. Light! People lived here! Cantus, who was ready to see new faces, quickened his pace. They followed the light toward what they hoped would be a Fraggle colony.

The passage twisted, and they found themselves at one end of a gallery. They stopped and stared. There were colorful images and patterns on the wall, some painted and others woven into tapestries. But the only living things in the hall were large, brown bugs. They were milling around, some clustered in groups of two or three.

"What's this?" Murray murmured to Cantus.

"Where there is light, there must be music," Cantus replied, and glanced at the other Minstrels. They knew their cues. Brool took his guitar off his pack, and Brio got out her cymbals. Murray was carrying his guitar backward, with the instrument resting on his pack and the strap across his chest; he only had to swing it around to be ready. Cantus raised his pipe, and, playing their instruments, they walked into the gallery.

The bugs turned and stared at them in amazement. As the Minstrels approached they saw that Cantus had guessed right. These 'bugs' were people. They moved purposefully and spoke among themselves, and some wore clothing or adornments. They let the Minstrels pass unchallenged.

Cantus led them to the center of the gallery, then stopped. When they finished their piece Cantus lowered his pipe and said to the astonished creature that had gathered around them, "Greetings. I am Cantus, and we are the Minstrels. We wander through the Rock, playing music for those who will listen."

"What kind of music is that?" one of the beetle-like people asked.

"It is our music," Cantus replied. "It is music of Fraggles, Pisca, and Ainu, all together."

They began playing again. The beetle-like people watched for a little longer, then began to drift away.

That surprised Cantus. Their music had always fascinated people before. These creatures, however, weren't interested. He could not read their faces; they seemed to be formed of leather, and if they held any expression he could not see it. Were they tone deaf? But Ditzies lived here, and they must feed on something. He lowered the pipe and asked one of the few creatures who had not wandered away, "Is our music so unappealing?"

"It's…different," it answered politely.

"What is your music like?"

The creature stopped and thought, then beckoned and said, "Come here."

It led them into a large chamber. The high wall opposite the entrance was riddled with wide holes, some covered with tapestries. There were beetle people in some of them. Homes or resting chambers, Cantus thought.

The being led them to a cylindrical piece of wood as tall as a Fraggle twice as wide. It was mounted on a frame that held it above the ground. The inside was textured interestingly, with triangular notches cut into the thick sides. He could not see through it because something opaque was covering the other end. When he walked around to the other side he realized what he was looking at: the biggest drum he had ever seen. The texture on the inside must affect the sound, he thought as the beetle-like creature picked up a pair of thick wooden rods.

The Minstrels watched as it began beating on the drum. It started with a rolling hum that gradually grew in force to a booming they could feel throughout their bodies. The volume built and fell, the pace and rhythm changed from a smooth pattering to a thrum like that of a giant heart, then a galloping beat. It was music of a kind they had not heard before, all based on rhythm rather than scale.

Cantus was fascinated.

*

Several hours later the Minstrels were still at the drum with Balsam, the creature who had demonstrated it to them. Each had tried their hand at the instrument, and found it to be a very strenuous form of music. Cantus, who had experimented until his arms were tired, was sure that he would be sore for the next few days, but he had been having too much fun to stop until his strength gave out. After that more of the creatures—Thrumb—had brought out their own instruments, all of them percussion, and played for them. At the height of the impromptu concert three were beating on the large drum side by side, many others were playing smaller drums, ranging from cauldron- to bowl-sized, and some were rapping sticks together with sharp clacks. Children clapped along. It all came together to make music they could feel all the way through to their bones.

That lasted until the Thrumb mealtime, so when they were done people began taking food from the platforms that ran along the walls. By now the Minstrels were considered guests, and shared in the food. The selection was a pleasant surprise to Brool and Murray, as it included both fish and meat.

Balsam sat with them as they ate. It was interesting, Murray thought. Most people's personalities came through in their music. However, Balsam sat quietly, listening and looking a little shy. Not long ago he had been beating the daylights out of a drum three times as big around as he was tall.

When they finished eating Balsam asked, "Which colony did you come from?"

Cantus replied, "Each of us came from a different colony, far north of here."

"North?" Balsam asked. Cantus nodded. Balsam pointed, and Cantus nodded again. "I didn't know anyone lived in the north."

"Nobody in the north knows that you live here. It is several days' journey through dark, silent caves. Are there more colonies in this area?"

Balsam nodded. "Sure. They're Fraggles and other kinds of people, so we don't know much about them."

"Why not?" Brio asked.

Balsam thought, then said, "I don't know."

"What kinds of people are there? Besides Fraggles." Brool asked.

Balsam said, "Well, there are little people, this big." He held his hands a little less than an arm's length apart. "And then there are really big ones but I've never seen them. They're big! So big they don't live in caves, because there aren't any caves big enough."

Cantus asked, "They live above the caves?"

"I don't know."

"We will visit them all," Cantus said.

Balsam said, "I can take you there. I know where some of them live."

Murray said "That'd be nice, having a guide."

Cantus said, "Thank you. That would help us." He had noticed Balsam looking at his pipe. Cantus picked it up and said, "This is a magic pipe. Would you like to try it?"

"How do you play it?" Balsam asked, eagerness plain in his voice.

"It is a magic pipe. Just blow." He turned the dual mouthpiece toward Balsam.

Balsam leaned forward and blew. The pipe played several bars of a short, energetic tune. Balsam's eyes widened with surprise. It was the first expression on his leathery face that they could read. He said, "I like that."

"It came from within you," Cantus told him.

"That music was in me?"

Cantus smiled. "Everyone has music within themselves. Each tune is different. When played together, the songs merge and become richer."

"Like a stew," Balsam said.

It was an unexpected turn of metaphor, but the meaning was clear. "Yes."

"Just a minute. I'll be right back."

Balsam got up and scuttled off. When he came back he was carrying a pair of small drums, one a little larger than the other. They were connected in the center with a wooden bar. He offered them to Cantus, saying, "You can play these with your hands."

Cantus set then on the ground in front of himself and tapped on the heads. One played a slightly higher tone than the other. He experimented, seeing what sounds he could make by striking them with his flattened hands, his fingertips, and his thumbs; how the tone varied depending on where he hit it and how hard, and the patterns he could set up between the two notes. He hardly noticed when Murray started playing his guitar, and the others joined in soon after.

Balsam watched in wonder. He had to hear more of this.

*****

Fraggle Rock, Cantus, Murray, Brio, Brool, and Balsam are copyright © The Jim Henson Company. When Can I See You Again is by Owl City. Copyrighted properties are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Clio and the overall story are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9@aol.com). Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.

 

[Slackbot]

Here's a little something that is not unlike Thrumb music...

 

[The Count]

That makes me smile. Reading good fic... Cleo's still cute as ever. And we reach the colony of the Thrumb. Balsam joins up as their guide for this portion of the journey. The band's complete, I is happy.
*Leaves more muffins.

 

[charlietheowl]

Great chapter! I like the continual glimpses of Fraggle culture from the outsider's perspective, and Cantus' explanation of why they should continue north was very nice. Thanks for sharing.

 

[Slackbot]

Thanks, guys. Glad you liked it. (I say that a lot, don't I? Oh well, it holds true.) The gang's all here, and if anyone reading this has also read "A Wandering Heart" you've probably noticed that the story has moved into familiar territory and time frame. Pretty soon Fraggle fans may get deja vu.

It was kind of hard to figure out how to write Balsam. His verse in Music Makes Us Real (Ping) implies that he's dimwitted. (I can barely tie my shoe/If I got some gum to chew/I can't count from one to two/But music's number one, woo!) I don't want to write him as a dum-dum, so I made him a little shy and just not especially bright, but blessed with a flexible mind and drawn to music. And he has something to offer the Minstrels, musically speaking, even if he hasn't thought of it that way.

Mmm, muffins.

 

[Slackbot]

It's been a long time since I arted, hasn't it? Been so busy stabbing my fingers with needles and dyeing them icky colors and sticking them together with contact cement to draw. Today I got ambushed by a Sharpie and piece of scrap paper, and there's the reault. When I paint this up I'll post the full version to my art thread, but for now here's a B&W of Cantus and Clio saying their farewells:

 

[Collgoff]

Wow that's a nice drawing!