Echolocation: Discovery

“Are you alright here?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“I’ll come get you before dinner.”

“Alright.”

Midnight listened as his sister walked off. Her shoes crunched the spring grasses that filled the woods where he sat. He didn’t bother turning his head towards her as her sounds grew more and more distant. He wanted to keep his new invention a secret, at least for now.

He rested his head against the large tree that supported his back. Both hands started to feel around the grass for his bag. He could feel the blades of grass, the flowering weeds, the hard pebbles. Once he grabbed his leather bag, it was easy enough for him to open it and find what he was looking for: his beloved drum.

It was already difficult for him to find magical books made for the blind in the first place, much less what he exactly needed, but after two years of searching, he finally did it. He spent the past weeks memorizing the spells and the components. If he did everything correctly, hopefully this would give him a newfound independence he craved.

He had heard from others that the fresh grass of spring had a color that, if one wasn’t careful, could stain freshly laundered clothing. The spell he had modified used ink made from a plant halfway across the world, but he had to hope that this would do. He took out a small bowl and a flask from his pack. Midnight grabbed a fistful of grass, muddling it with a small bit of water. He found it strangely soothing to do this, although he couldn’t tell if was working at all or not.

Once he felt like his muddling was enough, he dipped his finger into the mush that resulted in the bowl. The liquid left on his finger felt thick, like a paste. He thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t put too much water. He could feel if the paste was on his finger or not, and he wouldn’t miss part of the sigil.

Midnight grabbed his bodhran, feeling for the bottom of it. He, as gently as he could, drew the sigil inside the drum’s frame. He tried to replace the paste on his finger as often as he could, hoping that he didn’t miss a single spot. It took him longer than he would have liked, but he wanted to make sure he didn’t mess this up.

Once done, just like he practiced, Midnight took a deep breath. He wiped his finger off on his pants, not caring how messy he got. As long as the spell worked.

He spoke over the sigil, pronouncing everything as close as he could figure. Midnight felt a tingling in his fingertips. The smell of cut grass intensified.

And then it went away.

Midnight leaned over and reached for his tipper, easily twirling it in his fingers. He slipped the drum on his other hand. Midnight didn’t hesitate as he beat the drum once. He felt the beat of it, like it vibrated the air in his lungs. More importantly, however, he seemed to feel the beat come back to him.

Suddenly he was aware of just how dense the woods around him were. He wasn’t in a little oasis with his patch of grass and his single tree. There was a rather large tree a few strides away from him. There was a shrub over to his left. A clearing to his right. He beat the drum again and the same information came back to him, although far more clearly now. There were other shapes of trees around him. He stood up, beating the drum in a rhythm. Each sound came back to him, as if it was a language he didn’t know he knew. He took some steps closer to the tree in front of him, feeling how the beats came back quicker as he got closer. He stopped his steps just in front of it. Midnight reached out to feel the bark. It was right in front of him. He knew where it was.

What amazed Midnight was that even though he had stopped the beating of the drum, he still had a sense of where things were. He knew there was a root sticking out of the ground that could trip him. There was a pile of rocks stacked on top of each other, probably from when the neighbor kids played in the woods. He felt overwhelmed by all the information, but it felt addicting all the same.

Midnight heard something fall behind him. He turned his head towards the sound, unsure of what happened. He, as carefully as he could, walked back over. He knew where the root was, avoiding falling on his face.

He walked back to where he estimated his belongings and the first tree were. He gave a beat of his drum, hoping to figure out what fell. A few things shocked him. First, he managed to get very close to his belongings. Second, he could immediately tell what was different from before.

Midnight reached down and picked up his fallen cane. He felt it in his hands, next to his tipper. It was so strange to him, now, that he had two items he could use to see. Both gave him his understanding of the world, but is different ways.

The spell worked better than he could have ever hoped.

Midnight rest his cane against the tree, turning away from it in favor of experimenting with his new magical abilities. His dream of adventuring and exploring the world rose to his mind. A dream he once almost gave up on. Yet now, to the beat of his drum and the sounds of the woods, he ran around like he grew up as a child of the forest. Midnight didn’t drop his smile the entire time.

“Midnight?! Where are you?”

The bard turned his head to the sound of his sister’s call.

“Bellini!” Midnight called back, running towards her as he played a complex rhythm, “I simply must show you my new discovery!”