Day 26 - Swing

Story by lantheorc on SoFurry

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#25 of Orctober 2020

With this, we begin the last batch of orctober stories. It's been a hard if brief month, trying to write all these stories in time to celebrate this month. At this point, the file where I wrote these stories has a whooping 31.099 words, much more than I have ever written in a month. A true achievement for me. As we look towards the end of this month and truly, the end of this harsh year, I want to thank all of you who accompanied me on this little trip through many worlds, your words of encouragement and joy were a good reward for all this hard work. You have my deepest gratitude. I hope these short stories provided a much needed break from all that's going on and perhaps a bit of hope for the future.

Now, let's talk a bit about this story. It will be a strange one I imagine, I had a bit of trouble finding out a story I wanted to tell when it came to swing and after asking a lot of friends for help, I ended up going with my gut and sticking to swing as music. I wanted to share with you how it feels to have a song that gets you, that surrounds you with its note and lifts you off after you fell. At least that was my intent, what came out is probably still rough and in need of work. Remember to leave your thoughts and comments below and I hope you can find some joy out of these last stories.


The trumpets blared in across the crowded room, announcing the start of the show. The light of the restaurant dimmed down, leaving only small candles on each table as the sole source of light. The drums joined in, their beats cascading like a waterfall. Together, both instruments started to weave a strong song of life in the city and nights lost on love. The notes brought a smile to many of the patrons, the melody carrying their problems away for a few minutes.

Up in the stage, over polished wood and a cheap burgundy carpet, the mixed species band kept on with their show. The twin bull trumpeters poured their heart out with their energetic songs, their wild brown fur covering everything but their nose and horns. Next to them, a gray rhino answered every one of their musical barbs with a strong beat of his drums. Under the bright yellow lights of the stage, the rhino's pink suit and polished ivory horns stood out like a ruby, his mischievous energy igniting the hearts of their audience.

All the eyes in the bar fell on the stage when the smooth cries of a saxophone joined the fray. Weaving between her companions note, the saxophone-playing hyena brought long notes and order to the chaotic melody of her friends. The audience was quick to catch on the change in the music, their hearts not longer pounding against their chest while bittersweet regret lingered on their tones. There was now a lighter air to the song, a soft padding to its call. The many patrons leaned forward, their eyes and ears focused solely on the stage. Their drinks were forgotten over wooden tables, their companions hidden by the darkness of the room.

The saxophonist took the lead, her dark blue suit giving a green glow to her light gray fur. Her melody rose high, her notes carrying across the room with perfect clarity. Under her command, the rest of the band felt in line, their notes and beats turning into a friendly bickering. The smell of fire and ashes spread to the room as thin tendrils of smoke rose from the center of the stage. Worried murmurs spread through the new comers while the regulars' eyes shone with expectation. The trumped gave a final wait before the light went out above them, their notes swiftly extinguished. The scent of smoke grew thicker, small clouds rising from the floor at the beat marked by the rhino. The hyena's sax grew in strength, its notes no longer undermined by the trumpets. Like a wave, the sax song rose, building up momentum. The patrons stared with wide eyes, their hands and feet following the rhythm maker by the rhino while their minds were consumed by the hyena's melody.

The patrons let out a collective gasp when the song came to an abrupt end, the lights of the stage going dark. Silence reigned for a couple of seconds, the audience minds catching up with the change. They didn't have a chance. Crimson like poured over the stage floor like a river, spreading out until it fell of the edges. From behind a curtain of smoke stepped out a single figure. His body was like a boulder, tall and heavy, dark green skin absorbing covered by a suave white shirt and plaid gray pants. Twin spires of ivory rose from his bottom lip, framed with a reddish glow. More than one patron gulped, the orc's size commanding respect from everyone in the room.

The orc broke the silence moments later, his deep raspy voice booming across the room.

"Oh, my evening star. You rocked my heart. Oh my evening star, you lit up my life." the orc sang, his tone carrying the salty melancholy of heartbreak.

The sax jumped into the orc's lament, its swift low notes harmonizing with the orc's own rumble. The lights over the hyena lit up again. Dimmer, gloomier. Like the distant years of childhood.

"What shall I do now that you've gone? Where shall I go? When can I rest? When everything reminds me of you."

The glinting of ivory horns filled came from the stage, announcing the return of the bulls and rhino. Like a well oiled machine, the remaining band members joined the song, their energy lifting up the somber mood cast by the orc. The orc swung his luscious black mane at the beat of the drums.

"So I'll say goodbye to the city. Goodbye to the dreams of old." continued the orc, picking up speed. His tone tugging at the strings of the audience, from those nursing old wounds to those sporting recent ones.

"And I'll go west, beyond the sea. Oh my evening star, I'll go west."

The orc's eyes misted up, his voice belting out the last notes of the chorus. The smoke died out under him, like a dream forgotten in the morning. The bulls trumpet took over the melody, trading quick blast of notes, like friends over glasses of beer. The sax was quick to join in, with self deprecating notes that mixed flawlessly into the trumpet's melody.

A quick image formed in the patrons' minds, of the whole band gathered around a table, sharing their woes over tall glasses full of dark liquid. The taste of alcohol lingered on their tongue, the notes brought out the pain coiling over their heart. The more they watched, the more clearly they saw it all. They thick earthy scent of smoke pushed into their nose, the image of the orc dancing over their eyes. The blasts of the trumpets were like the rumbling laughs those bulls would share. The rhino's beats were the countless barbs he would throw at his mates and the supportive pats he would deal when the tears came out. And keeping them all in line, was the hyena, her sax sounding like the friendly advice you needed after a long night.

Time grew still while band kept playing, captivated as well by the harmony of their song. The orc's words all blurred into one another, forming a constant rumbled that shook the patrons to their core. While the rest of the band drew them in deeper and deeper into a simpler world, a kinder world. One where music connected the souls and pain was just a note. And until the last note rang across the room, the patrons' worries faded away.