Despite her original decision of practicing her scales, Liriah just couldn't. Something was calling to her, pulling her towards its dark bosom. Her mind was beginning to lose itself within the realm of music. Her soul was breaking away from its chains and shell. Nothing good could ever come from that. It never has, so what says that it will now?
"No," Liriah whispered in her mind, her past and memories were warring against her pacifist nature "not here, not when so many can hear. That melody has caused too much pain already."
The victor has already been decided. Her fingers were now following the melody of souls, the tune which resonated from every sentient being within existence. Determined to keep the flute from playing her soul's own melody, to allow it to lay bare her past and story, she forced her slender digits to break into a playful tune. Her determination and fierce resolve was no match for the primal instinct called forth by the flute.
Fall into the darkness now, Child. Fall into the darkness of despair
Her soul was as vulnerable as a baby to Rhysol as to the flute. It was drawing upon her memories and weaving the dark shadows dwelling within into a melody only understood by Lhex and Rhaus, a melody which no mortal can comprehend unless blessed by the gods. The cheery tune was already making its descent into the shadows of tragedy, a single teardrop streaking down her left cheek, eyes glittering with dark memories, when the solo performance became a duet, disrupting the flute's influence and hold on her.
Glancing in the direction of the couch to see if Luma and Neroll also heard the second flute, and to insure that she wasn't going mad, Liriah found both of them on edge. Luma's ears were perked up, his eyes wide with surprise, and Neroll was glaring past the flute at my lips and outside the window, out into the city of Lhavit. She knew better, however, that the melody was coming from the path outside her window.
Continuing to play the flute absentmindedly, the tune growing into a mellow song which sang of lost love, Liriah raised her left eyebrow at the sight outside.
A relatively thin girl, couldn't have been any older than 19 years of age, was artfully playing the flute. She was much better than Liriah was at the flute, but that made no difference to the continued duet. The duet, however, was beginning to near its end, the climax building in the mourning atmosphere. It was heavy with sorrow, but something else within it made her feel better. It reminded her of light. Radiant light, telling her not to let go of hope, no matter how pointless and small it may seem in the darkness of Lhex's onslaught.
The final, climatic note wavered in the air, miraculously drawn out to perfection, petering off just as her tear fell, its stubborn hold on her chin losing to gravity.
"I am glad you joined in when you did;" Liriah lilted, facing the open window and hoping the young child below could hear her over the din of the city, its citizens still busy with preparation for Okomo Day "what is your name, child? I can see that that flute is important to you by the way you hold it. If you wish, come up to my room; room number 99."
Flustered by her first experience at taking the initiative in a conversation, Liriah turned back to her room, her face flushing with embarrassment. Looking up at her companion, she wiped her eyes and chin as she stared at Luma.
"I don't think that is how most people talk," her eyes glared at the huge dog, his head turning away from Liriah as if to deflect the glare "it sounded pompous, very pompous. You, and Schwarts, taught me the wrong thing. Again."
With a sigh of exasperation, she turned back to the window with a sigh of exasperation.