Chapter 15
DESPITE HER LATE START, Mira’s Immortal Arts-enhanced mobility allowed her to reach the platform before most other passengers, and she secured another fourth-level window seat. She couldn’t help feeling a little smug when she saw it was the last one available. Before long, more passengers boarded, and the peace of morning was replaced by the commotion of a trainload of rowdy adventurers.
Oh, to be young, she thought philosophically, gazing down on the empty Counterclockwise Loop platform as she waited.
“Do you mind if we sit here?” A melodious voice cut through the commotion, interrupting her thoughts.
She looked away from the window and turned to find a man holding a lute and a woman with a hat pulled down low over her eyes. The seat she’d taken was a booth with two double seats facing each other. The man gestured to the seats opposite her.
He wore a russet surcoat, and his face was affable enough, with lips that seemed to naturally widen into a smile. Perfectly round eyes tilted down slightly at the corners, softening his features. His expression was open and guileless as he looked at Mira.
The woman wore a white hat in the shape of cat ears. Her jet-black hair flowed from under it, so fine a breath might be enough to make it flutter. Her eyes though… They seemed to stare vacantly into the middle distance. Though her features were delicate, she gave off the gloomy impression of a cloudy spring night.
Peeking up at the odd pair, Mira pulled her extended legs in to make space for them. “I don’t mind,” she said.
She looked around, assuming that the car must be packed if they were asking her to share. Despite the ever-increasing clamor, she saw several empty booths.
Mira’s habit was always to choose an empty booth if it was available. She had to wonder why they chose the seats next to her. Noticing her confusion, the man plucked a single string of his lute and explained himself.
“I’m sure you can tell, but I happen to be a bard. My name is Emilio, and I’m searching for stories of fellow travelers. And now you may guess that I’d like to hear yours. There isn’t much that I can offer in return, but I can play a little music to pass the time. What do you say?”
With little reason to refuse, and rather bored by the prospect of spending five hours staring out the window and reading manga, Mira readily agreed.
“I don’t have many fun stories, but if you want to listen, then why not?.”
“Thank you so much! I’ll take anything you can share.” Emilio’s smile widened. He took the woman’s hand and guided her over to a seat.
“Thanks,” she said, quiet as a whisper. The woman gave Emilio a fleeting smile, so quick Mira might have missed it if she blinked.
“This is Lianna,” he offered with a gesture towards his companion. “We’ve been friends since childhood, and now we travel together.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lianna said. She put her hands softly in her lap and bowed. Her eyes didn’t meet Mira’s; they looked instead toward the empty seat.
“Likewise. My name is Mira.”
Not long after, the departure announcement rang out and the train began to move. Mira excitedly looked out the window, waiting for the moment when the sluggish train began to accelerate. Emilio and Lianna gently held hands and watched as well.
Emilio narrated all that he saw. “The weather’s great today. It’s so clear you can see all the way to the horizon. We’re getting close to the rainy season, but it doesn’t feel like it. One white cloud is floating alone in the sky like a lost sheep. I hope it finds its friends soon. And the earth is just as vibrant as the sky. It’s as if they’re competing to see who can be more alive.”
Thus began Mira’s short trip with the bard.
***
“So, what would you like to hear?” Mira asked.
“Anything is fine. Things you’ve experienced, stories you’ve heard, things you’ve seen, even simple small talk. Whatever you’re willing to tell, I’m glad to hear.”
“Hrmm, right.”
As the train sped along, Mira turned her attention to Emilio. He said that he wanted stories, but she had no idea what to say to a bard. It seemed that what he wanted was human drama—not epic tales of heroism that all could enjoy, but more intimate tales.
So Mira told trifling stories. After all, anything was fine. Leaving out her mission and secrets, she talked about how she’d met Écarlate Carillon, how Heinrich was fun to tease, and how she’d bought a useless pile of cards on a whim. For a few hours, she let herself babble about anything that came to mind.
Emilio listened with sincere interest, occasionally flashing a toothy grin as he plucked his lute. Every once in a while, Lianna also smiled fondly as Mira spun her tales.
“Thank you, Mira,” Emilio said during a pause. “This was a fantastically productive conversation. And now, I’ll take any questions you might have. Anything you want to know, I don’t mind; you’ll know everything I know.”
He explained that they had traveled across the continent for almost a year and could tell her about many things happening across the land. He had gleaned from Mira’s stories that she was journeying in search of something. Any information that might aid in her search would be hers. Still, Emilio did most of the talking; Lianna rarely interjected.
“In that case,” Mira took out the letter from Solomon and checked the numbers within. “Could you tell me of any events or rumors, big or small, that happened around a few dates?”
“Okay. I’d be glad to.”
“Here goes… September 20, 2117. June 18, 2132. January 14, 2138.”
Emilio repeated each of them and began idly tapping at the body of his lute as he thought.
The activity in the car had calmed slightly since the train had started moving, but economy remained boisterous. The clacking of the rails occasionally rose in the gaps between people’s voices before fading. After a moment of thought, Emilio plucked a string of his lute.
“I’ve no idea about the first two.” Another lute pluck.
“Oho. Then it seems you do have an idea about the third?”
“If you’re fine with even the smallest of rumors…January 14, 2138—one day before the first anniversary of the peace treaty. An orphanage was opened to harbor over a hundred children orphaned by the war. I believe it was in a mountain village, northeast of Grimdart.”
The hint of reverence in Emilio’s voice as he laid out the tale made Mira think he had told this story before—perhaps many times. Normally, something like this would be a small, forgettable occurrence. After all, it had happened in a tiny village deep in the mountains, but Emilio remembered the story immediately.
“An orphanage, you say?” Mira repeated and checked her letter again. The matching note was A2138, 1, 4. The A was an initial, and there was only one Wise Man whose name started with an A.
Artesia, eh? It does sound plausible.
Elder of the Tower of the Holy, Artesia of Dissonance. Perhaps due to her own inability to bear children, she had a deep love of them. Mira remembered her as someone who would gladly build an orphanage if she found homeless children. Moreover, she was equipped with the power of a Wise Man. Caring for ten, twenty, or even a hundred children would be easy for her.
“Goodness me,” Mira murmured. “You’ve told me just what I needed to hear.”
“Really? I’m glad I could help.”
Mira thanked him for the useful information. Emilio plucked the strings of his lute. His fingers gradually flowed into a song, its joyful tune filling the train car.
Mira relaxed and listened to the pleasant melody. Leaning back in her seat, her gaze shifted again to Lianna. The gloomy cloud that hung over her was still there, but the smile spreading over her lips was as rare and beautiful as a blooming flower of the night. Perhaps her love of Emilio’s song was the metaphorical moonlight that shone upon her.
Lianna’s hands tapped a rhythm in her lap. Mira thought the two seemed like a couple who had been together a long time.
As Mira listened to the song, she noticed Lianna’s gaze. It was still vacant. Her eyes stared at nothing, looking without actually seeing.
Wait a second. Is she…?
Mira stared searchingly at Lianna’s eyes and waved a hand to gauge her reaction. There was none.
Lianna remained entranced by the lute’s music. Feeling that something was off, Mira shifted her gaze to Emilio. He noticed her questioning eyes and nodded.
He gradually wrapped up his song and responded, “Yes. Lianna is blind.” Emilio gently took Lianna’s hand. She returned the gesture and leaned against him. “It’s the result of an illness. A rare disease… She survived the treatment, but the price was her sight.”
“I had guessed. That’s rough…”
The gloom that hung over the young woman now made sense to Mira.
***
Lianna had lost her sight to a rare disease. The doctors saved her life, but in exchange, her world had been plunged into darkness. Back then, Lianna sank into depression even though everyone tried to cheer her. But Emilio tried a different approach.
Emilio had been following in his father’s footsteps to become a bard. He played his lute for his childhood friend and sung tales of adventure for her day after day. As time went by, she gradually began to react.
“You’re off-key,” she’d say. “Your playing is abominable.” Each biting criticism spurred Emilio to improve.
Once he’d sung every song he knew, he finally declared, “I want to write new songs. My own songs. I’m planning to go on a journey.”
Lianna turned her face from him. “You can do whatever you want.”
“I want you to come with me. You’ve been listening to my crappy music all this time, and you’ve given me good advice. My songs won’t be complete without you.”
She’d shaken her head in refusal at first, but Emilio insisted until he wore her down. Since then, they’d traveled around by train, singing all the way until they met Mira.
***
“The blindness does mean I get to touch her more, though,” Emilio joked and reached for her shoulder. He ran his hand over her skin until she swatted him away.
“Ow!” Emilio yelped as she threw in a painful pinch. With his other hand, he plucked out an ending to his current song in surrender, as if bringing an end to a husband-wife comedy routine.
“You brought it on yourself,” Mira chuckled.
“Anyway…how about I play a song to commemorate our meeting?” He plucked his lute again as if nothing had happened, then took Lianna’s hand. This contact wasn’t like his joke from before; it seemed more of a ritual to the pair.
The lute slowly swelled with a new melody, and Emilio’s pleasant voice was raised in harmony. His song spun a bittersweet yarn of a boy and girl’s first meeting and their hopes for the future. The story of Emilio and Lianna’s childhood—a song of adventure from the time before she was sick, when they saw the same world.
As the poignant song ended, the sound of the lute gradually faded until he plucked the final note. Mira applauded along with others who had listened in.
“That’s a lovely song,” she said. “It reminds me of my own childhood.”
“Umm…thank you,” Emilio said, a bit perplexed at her phrasing.
“Say, what’s wrong with Lianna?” Mira noticed her looking down sullenly in her periphery. Her shoulders trembled, as if wracked with pain.
Shortly after, a drop fell upon one of the fists clenched in her lap. Her tears fell one after another onto her hands. Emilio put his own larger hand over her small ones to cover them.
“Lianna? What’s the matter? Was I that off-key?” he whispered, gently wrapping an arm around her. Mira too was bewildered by the sudden tears.
“I’ve changed,” Lianna said. “I can’t see the world like you do anymore. I’m nothing but a burden. If not for me, you could see so much more of the world. I don’t want to hold you back anymore…” Her confession spilled out. In their year of traveling, Emilio had guided her the whole way. She knew what pains he went through to care for her.
Emilio’s dream had always been to wander the entire world, composing a masterpiece capturing its wonders. As long as he looked after her, Lianna knew, he couldn’t travel the way he wanted. Emilio would never abandon her, but the guilt of that knowledge pooled like mud in the depths of her heart.
Now, it overflowed.
“I…I can’t do anything without you,” she continued. “But sometimes, I’ve found myself hating you for talking on and on about a world I can’t see anymore. I know it’s not fair; it’s wrong. And the longer I stay, the more I’ll wrong you. So…just forget about me.” Lianna confessed one word after another, squeezing her eyes tightly to accept the scorn she was certain she’d earned.
As she stiffened in preparation for the worst, she instead heard the lute’s clear tones. Each chord gradually became more complex than the last, leading into Emilio’s singing.
The song was about the days he had spent with Lianna. The lyrics were corny—even embarrassing—but he sang that he loved every uneventful day with her, and that he felt best when by her side.
***
As the last notes of the outro hung in the air, Emilio whispered beneath the music, “I never used to get love songs, but now I do. That’s thanks to you, Lianna; you’ve expanded my world.”
The dam broke, and tears poured from Lianna’s eyes. Emilio pulled her closer and held her hand tightly.
I was worried there…but it looks like it turned out all right.
Mira was relieved to see them hug. Lianna was still a flood of tears, but there was clearly a different emotion behind them now.
“It’s no use trying. You’re too sweet, so you’d never abandon me. That’s why I have to stop taking advantage of you now.” Lianna pushed Emilio away. Her arms trembled. She was conflicted, still stuck between guilt and the fear of being abandoned.
“I’ve never thought of you as a burden. Besides, I’d like you to take advantage of me! You don’t have to worry about a thing,” Emilio protested.
Unexpectedly, the argument flared up again. As someone who wasn’t exactly a love expert herself, Mira was unsure what to do. Nothing would make her feel more guilty than watching in silence as they broke up.
She had no idea how to fix such a unique relationship. But maybe she knew someone who did.
Mira cast a Bound Arcana on the empty seat next to her. The dim glow of the magic circle drew Emilio’s attention as the Bound Arcana morphed into a rosary-shaped summoning circle. Mira’s rhythmic voice chanted:
If you can hear my voice, feel my thoughts,
Perhaps, will they wake you?
How I long to hear your words, to listen to you sing.
Echoing like a bell, right here in this moment.
[Evocation: Diva]
When her voice reached the summoning circle, scattered sunlight heralded the appearance of the greater spirit Leticia—governess of song and melody.
“It’s been so long, Master!” Leticia dimpled adorably.
Emilio gazed on in utter shock, and Lianna was disoriented by the voice appearing so suddenly nearby. Surrounding passengers gawked at the appearance of the scantily clad spirit.
“M-Mira? Who is this?” Emilio asked as he stared at Leticia, having totally forgotten the argument seconds before.
“This is Leticia, a Diva. Surely a bard such as yourself ought to know the Spirit of Song?” Mira declared, quickly requesting a song from the spirit. Mira asked for Lovers’ Nocturne, a melancholy ballad about two lovers parted.
“I love requests!”
Mingling melodies flowed from Leticia’s spread wings, accompanied by her soft yet clear voice. The sudden solo concert silenced the rest of the train car as all passengers listened, entranced.
“So this is the Queen of Melodies herself…” The Spirit of Song was holy among bards. Emilio had been suspicious of Mira’s claim…but as the rich notes of Leticia’s song reverberated through the depths of his soul, a tear rolled down his cheek.
“The Spirit of Song? Her singing is beautiful.” Lianna couldn’t see Leticia, but the light of her song warmed the woman’s heart.
It seems they’ve put that argument behind them.
Lianna listened attentively, tapping out the rhythm in her lap. Emilio had whipped out pen and paper and was in the process of writing something. His expression was serious, yet oddly bashful; when he glanced at Lianna, he looked happy.
***
Once Leticia’s solo ended, the train erupted in applause. Some people climbed up from lower floors to see what was going on.
“Thank you, thank yooou!” The scantily clad spirit waved to her audience with a brilliant smile on her face. This only served to confuse newcomers more.
“There. It’s done!” Emilio raised his sheet of paper proudly as the car rang with cheers for Leticia.
Even in the chaos of sound, Lianna heard Emilio’s voice clearly. She took his hand. “What’s done?”
“Our song. For now and forever,” he said emphatically, looking Lianna in the eyes. He then released her hand and began strumming his lute.
It began with the lute alone before Emilio raised his own voice. His clear baritone cut through the din of the rail car.
His song of love for Lianna flowed forth until the melody was accompanied by another: Leticia had joined in. Each new element created a perfect harmony that allowed Emilio’s voice to stand out even more.
The lyrics included the sights that he’d seen on his trip and the emotions that came with each. It was so vivid that one could see the places they’d been, as if the listener was there in person.
***
The song reached its finale and ended. This time, applause was directed toward Emilio. He bowed bashfully.
“Your songs are always wonderful, Emilio,” Lianna said.
Leticia exclaimed, “They really are!”
“Indeed. I’m glad to have heard it,” added Mira.
Happy to hear Lianna’s praise, honored by Leticia’s, and embarrassed by Mira’s, Emilio thanked them all and plucked a string on his lute.
“I could only write this song because of you,” he said, taking Lianna’s palm in his and placing his other hand on her shoulder. Though her eyes no longer held light, he still looked deeply into them. “A world I could only see because you were here. No matter how beautiful the world is, Lianna, everything loses color without you. I want to be with you forever.”
Emilio had felt that way for a long time now, even before their journey began. Finally, he was able to say it.
“But what about your dream? I can’t rely on your kindness if it means you miss out on that, so…!” Lianna protested and pulled her hand away. Her face was gripped by fear—of holding him back and of being abandoned.
But Emilio was resolved. He strengthened his grip on her trembling shoulder and smiled.
“I can’t know the pain of losing your eyesight, nor do I know your deepest fears. I can’t understand all your feelings, but listen to mine: I want to be with you, and I’ll say it as many times as it takes. I want to be with you forever. If you can’t see, then I’ll sing for everything you’ve missed. Don’t cover your ears, Lianna. I want you to hear every word of my song.”
Emilio began strumming, leading into another song. It was a cliché, a sickeningly sweet love song about marriage.
Leticia joined in, integrating her harmonies with his and weaving in a common wedding march. It shouldn’t have complemented Emilio’s impromptu song at all, but her power mysteriously brought the two songs together in warm harmony, coiling about each other like a double helix.
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