Tribute to Harmony

Arkies could not remember how they had landed in the busy streets of a city after having spent days chasing lizards for Amea. It happened more and more these days, almost a common occurrence. They would be doing something and then find themselves elsewhere, in another time and place altogether with no recollection of why or how. Days and even weeks slipped away from their mind.

Pausing amidst the bustling activity of the city, they gazed around them, the landscape felt familiar, and there were shops and avenues they could recognize. Yet it was only when their eyes landed on the concert hall that they knew for certain that their steps had led them to Celeste’s doorstep.

Turning their attention to a nearby journal stand, Arkies discovered the date they had traversed to, realizing they stood years ahead of Celeste's transformation. She was a grown spirit now, happier and freer. Far removed from the grief-stricken figure she once was, the melancholic and angsty soul she had been when they had met. After visiting Des, Elise, and Amea, it did make sense to find themselves here, near the home of another they’ve brought into this world. But unlike the others, which had been planned visits, their arrival here was unanticipated. Having lost themselves in their own mind before thinking of what to bring the harmonious esk, leaving them empty-handed. They did not have anything prepared.

Yet, as they glanced at the date once more, they thanked the Fates for leading their steps to this time. Here, in this time, lived a talented violinist, in this very city, someone Celeste would love to meet. Perhaps they could catch him playing, and maybe even had the musician already met paths with the spirit.

With newfound resolve, Arkies crossed over the threshold of the concert hall doors. They took the stairs leading to the main auditorium, where they found Celeste already observing the very violinist they had hoped to encounter. The man was preparing his instrument, lost in his thoughts and oblivious to the activity around him. Destiny worked in mysterious ways, and it seemed to have smiled upon them for once. Far from Arkies to question a rare gift from it when presented with one.

“Have you heard him play before?” Arkies said in the guise of greetings, breaking the silence.

Celeste startled and tensed, her features softening as recognition dawned, the golden fur and dancing moon all too familiar. “Hello to you too Arkies,” she replied softly. “I have not met this person before,” she continued, but there was a hint of anxious anticipation in her tone. “He arrived yesterday, though everyone in this building could not talk of anything else for the past month. He is said to play music so beautifully it stirs the very souls of his listeners.” There is a longing in her voice, one that would have broken her once upon a time. Now she was able to sit and witness someone else be what she had always dreamed to be, a true musician, only caring for the music itself.

“A singular talent, much like yourself, even now,” Arkies replied, offering a reassuring smile. “May I join you while you listen to him,” they enquired, ever considerate of her feelings.

“I would love to share a moment in music with you,” Celeste replied, her voice filled with warmth. ”It has been a long time since we last saw each other.” There was no reproach in her tone, only a quiet understanding. She and Arkies both knew it could not be helped. She let her eyes wander to a small cluster of people sitting in the front rows “This is a special occasion after all.”

Arkies did not have time to question her statement. As if on cue, the violinist stood and disappeared behind the curtain, before emerging back with his bow. There were only a few people present, this seemed to be a rehearsal. It gave the room an eerie air, with the only lights directed to the scene, leaving hundreds of empty chairs in the dark. The stage was set for an intimate performance.

The musician performed the final adjustments. He tuned the violin, minutely turning the four pegs with the fingers of his left hand, while the bow held by his right hand tapped on each string one after the other. Finally, after a long minute, he was poised and ready. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and opened his eyes again. Surveying the deserted room, with its rows and rows of red chairs, he gave the few people present, friends presumably, a tender smile. A small nod was offered to a man standing further back.

Satisfied, he placed his bow on the strings, initiating the performance. A serene and profound, clear-as-crystal melody rose slowly in the almost sacred silence that enveloped the room. A religious silence that nothing disturbed, that no one dared to break. Arkies felt Celestes shifting besides them, leaning forward as if she had to get closer to hear better, utterly captivated by the scene before them. The first few notes had enthralled her, capturing her whole attention. Her eyes were shining bright with emotion, her gaze piercing as she held her breath expectantly.

Bending down and then back up, swaying his body from side to side with the rhythm, the violinist played with closed eyes. The piece had started with a bouncing, jovial, and flourishing theme, like painting a sunny morning, basking in the simple joy of existence, spurred on by the curiosity to discover the beauty of the surrounding landscapes. At some point, as the music progressed, so did its colors and atmosphere, evoking repressed disquiet, akin to the sudden appearance of a looming dark cloud in an otherwise radiant sky. But this shadow was fleeting, as swiftly as it had emerged, it gave way once more to the playful motif that opened the piece.

How many times had they already heard this bright, sparkling motif? In its insistent return, this visible desire to endlessly embroider it, Arkies could feel the composer's unalterable attachment to this little melody. It felt like the unconditional affection one feels for a simple song learned in childhood, living free within oneself’s mind, continuous like an inexhaustible water source. A melody ever-present and ever-beloved, ready to gush forth at any moment in life, never to be forgotten. Arkies wondered if Celeste had performed this piece in the past, if she had ever deciphered the notes that now filled the air. The momentarily shifted their gaze to look at her, she had not moved, draped in a grave aura despite her captivated stance.

The balade had to come to an end. As it drew to a close, the music slowed abruptly. The violinist's body, swaying from side to side, suddenly leaned forward as if he needed to concentrate all his energy on defining the last rendition of the theme, until then shaped in various subtly differentiated ways. The piece had lasted barely three minutes. Three minutes during which the music notes intertwined, like strings of silver droplets on a bamboo leaf after a heavy rain. And then, with a final note, the bow detached from the strings, enveloping the room in a profound silence.

The musician opened his yes for the first time since he began playing. His gaze was lost in the distance. A gentle applause broke out, resonating from where his friends stood, soon stifled. Celeste seemed to shake herself out of a trance, having listened to the piece without moving a muscle, statue-like. Her whole focus was now on the group of people.

“Partita n°3 en mi majeur, Jean-Sébastien Bach, la Gavotta en rondeau,” she said with a soft voice, her eyes still fixed ahead. And Arkies might have imagined a tear forming on the corner of her eye.

Onstage, the musician seemed to come back to his senses, looking up towards his friends. His gaze halted briefly, locking right where Arkies and Celeste stood for one eery, fleeting second. One of the attendees, an elderly man, had removed his glasses, the fingers of his left hand pressed against his closed eyes. His right hand was held tight by the woman at his side who seemed just as moved.

“I dedicate this moment to the musical soul of Samara, may she rest in peace.” The violinist announced, bowing lightly before stepping down from the scene. Silence still reigned, only broken by the low murmurs of the group. Arkies noticed the man who had stood apart from them had already departed. They now realized this was not a mere rehearsal—it was a tribute for Celeste.

“They come here, sometimes,” she said, unwilling to elaborate further. Her gaze lingered on the humans, and though her eyes were not as sorrowful as they once were, they still held a whirlwind of emotions.

Arkies understood her desire to be alone with those people who seemed to care so much for her, even now after all the years since her disappearance. “I will be waiting outside,” their voices whispered as they made their way out of the room.

It was a beautiful March afternoon, as there rarely are in this part of the world. Neither too hot nor too cold, the city basked in beautiful lights cast by the sun filtering through the buildings. The trees placed in rows along the avenues swayed in rhythm with the mellow breeze.

“"Thank you," Celeste chirped as she rejoined them, barely an hour had passed. Her enchantment waltzed around her with a quiet melody.

“I did nothing more than stand by your side, listening” Arkies replied, affectionately nudging her.

“Music is everything to me, and you are important too.” she offered. And Arkies did understand the significance of sharing art with those you cherish.

“I am glad you are able to enjoy music again, to listen and even wield it for yourself.” They admit. There had been a time when her enchantment was unwelcome, causing too much pain and grief. Witnessing it now, freely expressed and embraced, as natural as breathing, was a testament to the journey Celeste must have gone through to heal.

“It was a rocky path, as you know very well. Or perhaps this version of you has yet to see it,” she mused, casting a curious glance at them.

“We have not indeed, still, we are happy you were able to find a semblance of peace here. It is comforting to see you enjoy the music once more.” They answer kindly. Their gaze turned distant, a tug in their core letting them know they had reached their time here.

"Are you leaving so soon?" Celeste inquired lightly.

“It seems our paths were meant to cross for the time of this memorial only, but we will meet again.” They say with certainty.

"In your future and my past," the harmonious spirit added with a hint of humor.

“In my future and your past.” Arkies’ fading voices answered in kind.