It had almost been a full year. Damn.
It was crazy to think that almost a year ago, he’d been falling to his death. His last act of defiance against the vicious du Wolff had been to add yet another name to his tombstone. But somehow, someway… he had survived. There had been a lot of light and noise and then he had landed in some kind of pool of water, a lake by the looks of it. He’d very nearly drowned, had it not been for someone diving in to drag his sorry ass out.
Of course there were a lot of questions on various sides. Where was he? Who was he? How had he fallen out of the sky? The one thing that he’d picked up on very quickly was that he wasn’t on Rhaegar anymore. Everything was too green, too lively. His home planet had been one of sand and grit, save for the oases that dotted the landscape. But wherever he was, there were so many colors and so much infrastructure. He’d never seen such shapely buildings, made of material called wood and such. He’d been transported away at the very moment before his death. The question remained; was it divine providence or something else?
Over the ten months that he’d been stranded in Earthland, he’d learned a lot -- about the world, about its people and its strange attributes. Magic was the biggest shock to him, no surprise there. Mysterious power that people could simply manifest with their own spirit, their own will? If he’d had that during the rebellion, it would have been a very short issue. It seemed the people on Earthland were born with the ability to manipulate the elements and beyond but there were also items that allowed people to use magic as well. Of course, to have those kinds of items, one had to have currency and he’d come to an alien world with no idea of what kind of scratch they dealt. He’d found himself once again destitute and impoverished but unlike on Rhaegar, there were plenty more places and people to pluck from. He just had to remember what it was like before God-King, before the rebellion, back when he was living in a hovel with his pops. It was like stepping back in time.
Things really started to change once he discovered the music of the world. Instruments of the strangest design but the sweetest of tunes. And people were kindly with their music, willing to share it for free if you ran with the right crowd. Among the poor, many didn’t care to ask too many questions and so he was able to filter in without concern. He downplayed his wonder over the instruments as sheltered life -- a not-all-together lie. And people were all too welcoming, letting him hold the instruments and giving him basic instructions and ideas of what to do to make it sing. They were not too far off from what he’d played on Rhaegar, the guitar and lute two instruments he picked up in no time flat. He played with a finesse that masters of the art would call prodigal. And with that came the opening to earn some cash fast. Some strumming on the corners, a few quirky tunes from his home and he was catching the eyes of people who recognized an artist.
Poor and destitute no more, that’s for sure. He’d earned himself some real cash, the currency called jewels though it didn’t shine like any jewel he’d seen or worn. He was invited to play at clubs, paid low to start but only until he began to prove himself. Along the way he met other musicians and found other instruments. His curiosity spread and new musical tools found their way into his hands to be practiced and mastered. He had a long way to go but that didn’t matter to him. He was building something from the ground up, something he’d never really gotten a chance to do. His home, the rebellion had been his father’s and he’d inherited the throne once he’d won. Only music had ever been truly his and his alone.
The du Wolffs were here, which proved that divine providence had a cruel sense of humor. It wasn’t hard to hear about them, considering they had been ousted from some country called Bellum due to being traitors. That wasn’t any kind of surprise. Now they’d disappeared but there was tell of a pointy-haired member of a guild called Fairy Tail that seemed to match the description of Vandrad. The fallen prince had talked up a big game about being born on another world and not knowing how he got to Rhaegar. Maybe he was to blame for this mess; transporting him here out of spite or punishment. He wasn’t sure what. All that he knew was that it had been a mistake not to kill him.
But those were plans he couldn’t worry about now. One had to start small and plan for the future rather than hit the ground running. So the former God-King Xavier became Trevor Winters, a mildly successful musician who was beginning to catch the eyes of bigger fish. It wasn’t until the fall that he got his first big break -- an invitation to play during a land-sweeping event called Halloween. Reading up on it had provided him enough details to come up with his own little ditty for the event. Along with the other band members that had been invited, they set the tone for the festival in Rose Garden. The drum started out the song, the wooden sticks bouncing against the reverberating surface. His guitar joined in after several seconds, his fingers plucking along the strings quickly as the rest of the band joined in. Then Trevor Winters stepped up to the microphone, ready to sing.
♫ Very superstitious,
Writing's on the wall,
Very superstitious,
Ladders bout' to fall,
Thirteen month old baby,
Broke the lookin' glass
Seven years of bad luck,
The good things in your past
When you believe in things
That you don't understand,
Then you suffer,
Superstition aint the way
Hey
Very superstitious,
Wash your face and hands,
Rid me of the problem,
Do all that you can,
Keep me in a daydream,
Keep me goin' strong,
You don't wanna save me,
Sad is the soul
When you believe in things
That you don't understand,
Then you suffer,
Superstition ain't the way,
Yeh, yeh
Very superstitious,
Nothin' more to say,
Very superstitious,
The devil's on his way,
Thirteen month old baby,
Broke the lookin' glass,
Seven years of bad luck,
Good things in your past
When you believe in things
That you don't understand,
Then you suffer,
Superstition ain't the way,
No, no, no ♫
The song played to a natural end and the audience that had gathered around the stage cheered and clapped vibrantly. The band took a bow and departed, having earned a break while some other musicians came on to play their own spooky tunes. Trevor hopped off the stage and walked over to one of the nearby food stands, tossing one of his drink coupons he’d earned for partaking. The man behind the bar nodded and filled him up a mug of beer while Trevor leaned back against the bar and looked out at the crowd.