章節 4: Interlude: Melody, The One Left Behind.
1
I woke up to the sound of my parent's voices. They weren't fighting, but arguing. What's the difference you ask? If they were fighting, mother dearest would be shouting instead of father dearest. Either way, it's quite rare for them to be arguing, even more so in the morning.
I rolled off of my bed, making a muffled thudding noise when I landed on the padded ground. I have always had bad habits when waking up early in the morning, mother told me that I would fall off the crib if it didn't have borders.
Coincidentally, the idea of padding the floors came from my esteemed, sister dearest, Genevieve. She's a brilliant Artisan that shines brighter than the stars. Then again, she's not officially an Artisan yet, but her skills are second to none.
Still, I needed to drag myself off of the ground if I wanted to catch her before she left the house. Usually, she would leave super early so I could never play with her in the morning. Philippe says that she's not a morning person, but the fact that I don't see her in the morning made it clear it was a lie.
I placed my hand on the buttons next to the door and inputted a combination. Most doors in this house uses keys of some sort, but my sister dearest made mine work with button combination. I always forget to bring my keys, so it was easier to remember combinations instead. Also, Philippe wouldn't be able to go in unless he breaks the whole door which would acquire father dearest's ire.
The door's mechanism ticked loudly as its locks released themselves one by one and the door folded to make way for me. I walked outside and pressed a corresponding button outside, making it close and lock.
Incidentally, the combination would be changed each time I left the room, which means it's never the same. Yet, I've had moments when mother dearest would walk in without me telling her the combination. I also can't find any signs of tampering – she scares me sometimes.
I made my way towards where father dearest's voice originated. Since father dearest was being extremely loud, that means he's energetic enough to have done his morning routine. By that point, he would know where everyone is.
However, when I got closer, the tone of his voice changed. "Why?" Instead of anger, it was like anguish. So much so, that I was petrified.
"She has your stubbornness, love. What would you think she'd do if we stopped her?" Mother was being abnormally serious. This usually means something like the end of the world.
"I…I know…but…." Father couldn't even form his words. The news must've shaken him up… Did mother say 'she'? "Did you try to stop her, even a little?"
Who are they talking about? Why did they make it sound like she's gone forever? Won't she come back? "If I said anything to her…I would've probably tried to drag her back."
"Then why didn't you?"
I placed my hand slowly on the door of the room. All I needed to do was to push and stop their conversation. If I stop it, then it's not real. "If we stopped her, she would truly hate us…love, you know full well how she's like."
I need to push the door open. I need to stop her words. There's no way she left without telling me. She's just in the first level, doing her usual things. Please, let me open the door…
Why couldn't I push the door open?
"Gen was going to leave this house, sooner or later. All we could do is wait for her to come back. No matter how long that takes."
After my mother said those words, my hand fell to my side with the momentum opening the door. My parents both look at me with some kind of look in her eyes. I don't know what expression they had, it was all blurry. I could feel my cheeks turning warm when something fell down along it.
"Ah." It wasn't a particular word, I think the best description was that I squeaked. Like a small gerbil who got her body squished, I squeaked.
"Melody, dear." Mother raised herself from her seat and followed father to my side.
"What did you hear, dear?" Father asked. "Are you all right?"
"We can go to the park later, dear. So try to stop crying, okay?" I was crying? I see, that's what's going on. "Melody dear. We're here for you."
The two of them hugged me tightly before letting go and looking me in the eyes. I knew that fact. I knew that they were here for me, same with Philippe. I just had one single question in my mind that haunted me. A question that would drive me insane.
"Why…didn't she- she didn't take me with her…" After saying those words, I could feel water stream down my face. By the time I realized I was bawling, I fell to my knees and stopped holding it in. I just cried and cried as my parents hugged me tightly.
I didn't remember what happened afterwards. When I came to, I was in Philippe's room, laying on his couch as he was tinkering away with something. I sat up and wiped my eyes, trying to get a bearing on what happened.
"You're back, huh?" His voice was smoother than normal, he usually does that when he's worried about us.
"Back? From where?"
"A state of delirium." He put the opus he was tinkering with down and walked towards me. "So, you've heard the news, huh?"
I turned away from him. It was immature of me, sure, but I didn't want to talk about it. Also… "You knew…didn't you?" Philippe and Genevieve may not look amicable, but the two of them always get into mischief with each other. He's a bad influence on her.
"Knew? She asked for my help. I had to buy her ticket for her." I glared at him. "Now, now. Don't be so angry. I understand how you feel-"
"You let her leave Modrata and didn't tell me! Why!?" He didn't say anything, just staring at me. I wanted to get angrier, to scream at him, but….it's pointless when it comes to him.
So I silently pouted and plopped myself back unto the sofa. "Have you got it out, yet?" He asked.
I didn't even want to look at him. I just hate him right now. I want him to leave me alone. Then he sighed, "She's my sister too, Mel. I care about her, I worry about her. If you think I didn't have any heartache seeing her leave, then you'd be wrong."
Somewhere in my head I knew that. I understand what he was saying or at least, what he wanted to say. In my heart however, I was still angry. "Then why didn't you stop her?"
He took a deep breath and looked away. See? You don't care about her at all. I thought to myself.
"…Because she's an Artisan."
"…"
Those words…They were like a curse to me. Something that I've never felt before.
I was tinkering away in room. The opus that I tried to make was a watch, the same as my father likes to create. Unfortunate to say, but I was unable to complete it for weeks now. I'm not even sure if I've been making headway.
Father told me the ins and outs of making the watch but I couldn't wrap my head around it. How it all connected, how to connect them, and how to make them work. Even when I was done and put the opus together, it refuses to tick.
I thought that Mister Arland would be able to help since Gen and Philippe goes to his store frequently. Mother however, forbade me from going there and Philippe refuses to help me. They never stopped Gen before, so I wonder why they do it to me.
"Cogdammit." I cut my finger on a piece of the opus when I was moving it. "I should've worn the gloves." I was getting impatient, so I started being hasty and not wearing my gloves.
I put my bleeding finger in my mouth as I stared out the window. It was nice and sunny outside, the sun was leaking through the cracks into the lower levels. Sunlight would still enter the fourth level regularly, but today, it might even go all the way to the second level maybe first.
"Seems nice." I placed my head on the table while looking at my bleeding finger. I haven't been to the park since Gen left Modrata, around three or four days now.
"Maybe I should leave for the park." I mumbled to myself.
I'm still not a registered Artisan yet, if I were, I wouldn't need mother's or Philippe's help. I thought I'd be able to finish it by now. "Ugh." I leaned back on my chair. "It sucks being a kid."
"Now, don't be like that. Being an adult has its downsides too, dear." I flinched and lost balance, lucky that the floor was mostly padded.
"MOTHER!" I got up from the floor and glared at her.
"Yes, dear? Anything you wanted to talk about?" Her usual smile seemed much scarier right now.
"W-what are you doing here?"
"I thought you wanted snacks." She motioned to the tray on the table. She must've put them there while I was falling. Doesn't that mean she let me fall to put it there? I pushed the thought aside.
"I meant, how did you get in here?"
"I opened the door, dear. That's how it works. You open it on one side and you can go through either way." She was purposefully dodging the question which annoyed me.
"Would you look outside the window? Such a lovely weather for a walk in the park, don't you think?" Now, she's trying to switch the subject.
"I need to work on my opus." I tried to ignore her and started tinkering with my opus. I'm not going to lie though, the smell of the beef skewers she brought in is enticing.
Without looking at her, I could hear that she sat down on my bed. "You're still following Genevieve's footsteps, dear?"
"…Isn't that obvious?" I knew I was being rude, but she could've stopped her as much as Philippe could. She didn't.
"Well, forgive my saying, dear, but you are unfit to be one."
"I don't care what you think. I'm going to be an Artisan and I'm going to go find Genevieve." I wish she'd just leave.
"Fair enough. If I followed my parents' words, I would've been a Forger." For a moment, I wondered what she'd be like if she was one. "However, I do enjoy being a Virtuoso, much more so than a Forger or Artisan."
I stopped my hands and turned to her. "What- what are you insinuating, mother?"
"Not mother dearest?" I glared at her. "I'm just joking dear. What I'm trying to say is, it's fine to follow what you believe, so long as they're yours."
I thought about her words for a moment, then I could feel my brows narrowed. "…Are you saying that I don't believe in becoming an Artisan?" I was honestly more confused than angry.
She sighed, "What I'm trying to say, Melody dearest, is that you're doing this to follow Gen."
"Yeah." Wasn't that obvious? "She's a wonderful older sister and I want to become like her."
"Of course she is." Mother walked towards the table and started to check my opus. "She's smart, she's fun, and honestly, she's a person you'd want to have by your side."
"Is this where you tell me I'm not like her? It sounds like you're insulting me indirectly."
She looked at me and smiled before hugging me tightly, causing me to involuntarily scream-laugh. "That's not it, my little Melody. You're different from her."
"Can't I be like her? Smart, beautiful, amazing, graceful, creative, and perfect?" It would be a dream to stand next to Gen as equals.
Mother looked at me with a hint of concern in her eyes. "We need to find you a new role model." She joked. At least, I think she did, she sounded somewhat serious. "What I meant to say, is that you can't simply be someone you're not."
"…Can't I try?"
She looked at my watch and raised it to her ear, the ticking noise absent. "I can certainly do basic forging. However, I'm a Virtuoso. I can certainly try to become an Artisan or a Guardian or even a miner. No matter what I become, I'll still be Vivienne Laurent."
I think I was understanding her words, but it still confuses me. "If I became an Artisan, I'd still be Melody Laurent."
She nodded playfully. "Why make a watch for your first opus?"
"Because Gen- ah…" She nodded. "No, but, Philippe and even Gen would do use other people's opus as inspirations."
"Uh huh." She hummed. Then, she pulled a watch from her pocket. "In my, lovely and beautifully maintained hand, is the first watch and the first opus that little Gen made when she was six years old." She placed it next to my opus.
"Uh, well, it's the inspiration and I wanted to make sure I'm able to…to…" I lost my words. I don't know what else to say.
"Dear, I'm not an Artisan, I do not know what's beyond the surface of an Artisan's opus. Yet, I can see that you were copying this. The same needles, the name numbering and lettering, the straps, and even the metals. The gears too by my guess."
As she was listing it off I could feel my face turn hot. I wanted to scream at her to leave my room this instant. I wanted her gone. I hate her. She's a nuisance. "Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear." She gently placed her arms around me. "Don't cry, dear. I'm not reprimanding you."
I could feel my cheeks puffed up, trying to hold back my scream. Then, I felt my tears down my cheeks. "It's fine. It's fine, Melody. I'm not angry at you, no one is."
I swallowed my anger and struggled to get out of her hug. I trashed and pushed her away. "I hate you!" I shouted at her and ran to my bed, hiding beneath the covers.
Her hand was on my head with the sheets between them. "I'll be back later."
"I hate you! Get out!" I felt the water falling from my eyes unto my bed in the dark.
I don't know how long I was in that state, but somewhere along the line, I started thinking. Was I trying to not be 'me'? Is that a bad thing? As my mind raced with these questions, I fell asleep, covered by my own tears.
2
It's been two days since my last little outburst. Coincidentally, It's been two days since I've even touched the opus on my desk. I'm not even sure what I've been doing daily. I go out of my room, have breakfast with my family, then… I just wander.
I think I went outside and watched a play or an opera. I can't remember which it was, but I did remember I went with mother. The play or opera was done by her old troupe when she was still a prominent Virtuoso.
It was interesting, fun. I don't have much to say about it, other than it was enjoyable. Of course, it was well written and well produced, but that's expected of mother's old troupe. Also, I feel that while it was well written, it felt a bit more disappointing than when mother was their scriptwriter and composer. It lacked the whimsical element that mother likes to sprinkle in her writing.
After that, I don't remember. I know I had dinner but that's about it. The next day, today, I had breakfast as usual, then I went to Philippe's room again. He didn't say anything to me, he just tinkered with his opus as I laid on the sofa.
As I stared at him, I think I started to understand what mother was trying to tell me. The way he moved and the way he worked, it was entirely different than how I was doing it. He was like a maestro presiding over a symphony, moving like the pieces of the opus were his limbs.
The way he moved and commanded the parts, I've seen it a few times before. When Gen moved her opus… Her 'dearest sister', Eve. She moves it with Magicks that she learnt from a passing Wizard. Her motions did remind me of a maestro of a symphony.
Speaking of, there aren't many or any Wizards at all in Modrata. Most of them are hermits, I think that's what mother called them. They don't stay in one place, I think that's what the word means.
"Melody, is there anything I can help you with, at all?" My brother stopped his hands and turned to me.
"…I'm bored." It wasn't wrong, but there was something else. I couldn't feel motivated at all.
"What might you have me do then, dear sister?" He walked and sat on a seat next to the sofa. "Show you my opuses? Do a Magick trick?" He chuckled.
"No, none of that." The word opus causes my stomach to turn.
"How then?"
"I don't know how just…something." I buried my face into the cushion, I just wanted something to take my mind off of my opus.
"Then how about that song you're humming?" I peeked from the cushion. "You know? The one you were humming as you waited for me to finish my opus. To which I've decided to put on hold so that I could entertain you."
I raised my head from the sofa. "I was humming?"
"Did you not realize it? You always hummed when you're in a bad mood. Why, I remember the day you were born. You came into this world, humming to the tune of mother's symphony." I listened to his words with skepticism.
"I don't- did mother told you to tell me that?"
He looked me in the eyes and said, "No, but I wanted you to think you were a born Virtuoso."
I started climbing up his seat and hit him by the shoulders. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" He only chuckled at my aggression.
After exhausting myself, I went back to the sofa. "Let's go to the park, today!" Philippe invited.
"I don't want to."
"Well too bad, let's go." Without caring for my pleas, he grabbed me and lifted me up.
"NO! NO!" I struggled and thrashed against him, but it was to no avail. He was too strong for me. "LET GO!"
"What is all this racket about?"
"Father! HELP! Philippe is kidnapping me."
He looked at us, sizing us up. "Where to?"
"Father!" I shouted.
"I'm merely jesting. Philippe, unhand your sister this instant." Philippe did as he said and let me down. Where I promptly run to put father between us. "Where did you plan on taking her anyway?"
"To the park. I thought some sunshine and fresh air would be good for her." I stuck out my tongue at him for being such a meanie.
"Well, it might do her some good." He rubbed his chin.
I gasped, "FATHER! You cannot tell me that you agree with this…this barbarian."
"That's your brother, Melody."
"The point still stands." He gave an acknowledging shrug.
"Father!" Philippe's words were ignored with a wave.
I didn't want to leave the house. I just wanted to stay in my room and…stare….at the opus… never making progress. Oh… I see… If Genevieve was here, she'd probably be disappointed in me.
"Off to the park we go then." Father grabbed his coat and opened the door.
"Wait!" I called out. "I…don't want to go…" My voice was growing meek. I don't know what I want anymore.
"I heard Arland is going to the park today." Philippe's statement caused me to look up.
"That old coot? Why don't you just go to Gaspard? He has business near the park."
"Father, you can't possibly tell me that I annoy Gaspard on his day off?"
"A lot better than dealing with Arland. Melody is coming with us, you'd be a bad influence."
"She said she didn't want to go. She just said so herself. Right, Melody?" The two turned towards me, towering above me.
I know that's what I said but…if Arland's there then he might be able to help me with the opus. Then I wouldn't be stuck anymore. "I…don't want to go…without changing…my clothes…" I looked up and the two smiled, motioning for me to go and get changed.
I ran as quickly as my little legs would allow me, entering the combination for my room, and scrambling towards my closet to pick out my nicest sundress. All of my clothes were white and, or blue, sometimes I wonder if I should get more colors in but that's a problem for later. I need to go to the park to meet Arland.
We left the house and rode up the escalator towards the park. As we approached I could hear the sound of piano tunes dancing in the air. It was a familiar song, one that I think I've heard a lot of times but I can't remember where. Without me realizing, I began to hum along.
As we got closer and closer to the park, the song gets louder and louder. I kept humming along, knowing full well what the next notes were. If I know this song that much, then it must've been mother's song. Yet, I've never heard of it before.
Sure enough, a crowd of people were surrounding the noise. Philippe and father walked ahead to have the crowd give way for the three of us. And in the middle, I saw a piano and woman. My mother and her piano.
Each time I went to the park with her, I've always seen her wearing an almond sun hat. Below that wide-brimmed hat, she always wore her hair as fluffy as a sheep's wool. All my life, I've only see my mother being describable as fluffy and warm.
What I saw today was not that. She's elegant, beautiful, graceful, and…wowzers! She wasn't wearing her sun hat or sun dress. She was wearing a black and blue dress with a shawl around her shoulders. Even her hair, she had tied it up as an up-do braid with long bits and… She's very pretty. Mother was very pretty.
My eyes were stuck on her as her fingers were dancing across the black keys of the piano. That white bodied-black keyed piano which I've seen idling at home, was in the park producing a beautiful melody that I've never heard before.
It was like a dream. No, it was something more than that. It was like Magick.
Everybody lingered even though the song had ended. Each of them gave their praise and applause, making me feel bouts of pride of having someone like her as my mother. Then, she saw us from the crowd.
Mother gave a small wave towards us which parted the crowd further. Without waiting for anything else, I moved my small legs as fast as they could and ran up to her. Luckily, mother knows me well enough that she bent her knees to prepare for a collision.
I jumped towards her, forgetting my age at the moment, and entered her warm embrace. "My guess is you enjoyed the performance?" Her words were much more melodious than normal.
"Mother! Mom! You are a Virtuoso!" In hindsight, that was obvious.
She chuckled loudly before rubbing my cheeks against hers. "Of course I am, dear. I've always been one since before you were brought to this world."
"Enchanting as always, my love." Father commented.
"The last you played that was in my tenth birthday. Surprising you still remember that." Philippe clapped.
"I hum it time to time. I used it for your lullaby, Melody."
I tried to remember when she hummed it but none came to mind. "I don't remember."
"I would think so. After Genevieve told you that her favorite song was the other one, you only ever wanted to hear that one."
"What?" I did that? "Why? That one was a great song."
"Well, you know Gen. She enjoyed the complexity of the song, rather than the song itself."
The complexity of the song? Rather than the song? Didn't she enjoy the song because she liked listening to it? "But Gen likes the song, right?"
She looked towards Philippe who gave a shrug. "In all honesty, Gen can be a bit weird. She'd enjoy something simply because it's complicated or complex."
"…Is that why she's obsessed with the 'perfect' sister?" I could feel my tone turn sharp when I said that.
"…Perhaps."
It took a while before the crowd completely dispersed. Apparently, my mother's old troupe had an anniversary and they invited her to play with them. Mother being mother, she decided to do a few solo pieces with her own custom piano – which I found out today was custom built by father.
While she was busy with cleaning and dealing with the aftermath of her performance, I played within the park with Philippe and father. Philippe is as annoyingly athletic as he's always been, even though he rarely leaves the house. Meanwhile, father is getting old, he kept complaining about his back.
Mother joined us after she was done and we enjoyed a lovely afternoon in the park. Slowly, the sun was going down, leaving the park in darkness before the streetlights illuminated them.
"Should we go home, dear?" Father asked me.
I still didn't see Arland so I couldn't leave yet. If I did, I would not be able to find him since I'm not allowed to go to his shop. "I want to play more." In truth, I was exhausted.
"It's turning late, we must leave the park sooner or later." Father pleaded.
I wanted to retaliate but I don't have any other defense. Judging from his words, father had forgotten about Arland too, which means this is the perfect timing to strike. Yet, I have nothing in my arsenal.
"Father, I can keep an eye on her while you have your dinner reservations." Philippe cut in.
"Reservations?"
"Did you not know? Mother told me that she had reservations in celebration of her anniversary." The two turned to her who gave a bashful nod – something I've never seen before.
"I- I see, yes… that is important."
"Well, that was before I knew Melody wanted to go to the park today. We could simply cancel the reservation."
"That is also true…" Father looked at me and then towards Philippe. "Philippe, if you don't mind…"
"Not at all. I wouldn't want any harm to hurt our little melody."
"Is this all right, Love?" Mother asked father.
Father held her hands with both of his before giving them a kiss. "For you, my love, I wouldn't want to disappoint. Have faith in Philippe and enjoy the night with me." I wanted to puke.
Mother blushed. "All right, love. Also, Melody, one day you'll have someone you'll be like this with, do not vomit."
"Ew." I didn't want to think about it.
"Take care of her, Philippe dear."
"Yes mother."
With that, the two was off towards their restaurant. If I know mother well enough, then it's the one on the first floor, with the luminescent plants. The one that Genevieve found and brought us to.
"Philippe, is Arland actually here, or did you lie earlier?"
"I never lie, I simply don't tell the truth." He had a smug smile which made me strike her sides, causing him to laugh. "This time- This time, stop, haha. This time, I'm not lying." He raised a finger towards a single direction.
It was a demi-human with the attributes of a gray wolf. His hair and fur looks fluffy and well-kept. His demeanor was like a professional businessman, perfect for a Keeper. His smile however, was like a snake's.
3
"Mister Laurent!" He called out before we could even get close. "How serendipitous for us to meet!"
"It's a pleasure seeing you again, old friend. However, your business is with the little Miss Laurent." He gestured to me.
I tried my best to stand as right as I could, imitating Gen to the best of my ability. After looking at me, Arland let out a snort, causing me to narrow my brows. Then he raised his hand and gave a sincere bow which confuses me.
"Forgive me, Miss Laurent. I was not expecting your demeanor of trying to…well, it was stiff. Something that I am unaccustomed to thanks to your sister. It's a fresh feeling and I thank you for it." He gave a deep bow. "I look forward to your patronage."
"You're….not as suspicious as I thought." I heard Philippe chuckle and Arland gave him a look.
"What is it have you been teaching your sister about me?"
"Nothing, nothing consequential, I assure you." He kept chuckling. "Genevieve on the other hand, well her words are like a wildcard."
I could hear a small growl from Arland as he said that. "I suppose…out of all my patrons, you are my most loyal ones. But please, don't besmirch my reputation."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Arland gave a sigh. "Now, Miss Laurent, is there anything I can help you with?"
"Oh, yes, I need to know what it is my sister dearest used to make her first opus."
"Genevieve's? Are you referring to her…doll?" He looked hesitant referring to that doll as a doll.
"No…" I took a deep breath involuntarily. "I was referring to her watch."
"Ah, my apologies. Genevieve can be adamant about the…doll being her first and only Magnum Opus." I understood, but I hated it.
"You don't have to watch your back each time you say the word doll. Contrary to your beliefs, she's not some kind of daemon who would appear when you refer to that thing as a doll." Philippe looked behind his back for but a moment when he said that.
"Yes…you're right…" He dabbed his head as if he was sweating heavily. "Though I must say…I do somewhat miss her…intimidating presence."
"Let's not coat our words. We miss her fun insanity." Philippe shrugged to which Arland nodded in agreement. I could feel my face souring at the statement.
"Yes…" Arland continued, with a hint of sadness and guilt. "The watch. Forgive Miss Laurent, I do have the parts order but it is in my shop, would you be willing to accompany me there?"
My eyes widened. I could finally find where his shop was. "Yes, that's no problem! Philippe! You're coming with us, right?"
He shrugged, "I swore mother and father."
"Let's be off then." Arland gave a courteous bow and walked ahead of us.
The three of us made our way towards the first level towards Arland's shop. It wasn't my first time down here, but I don't really walk around here all that too often. Gen is the one who seemed to like the cold and dark of the first level. I heard she even visited some factories but I've never heard of her volunteering.
Arland's shop wasn't anything special. Well, I meant that it was a normal looking shop. With how father forbade me to come here or how Philippe and Gen would come in secret, I thought it looked more…shady. Though it did have some luminescent plants growing out front, which is nice.
Arland was going through his documents after telling us to wait. While the shop itself looked like a normal shop, the inside was cluttered. It reminded me of how messy Gen's room was, if maybe a bit cleaner.
"Forgive me for asking Arland, but this order, it must be nine years old now. Why would you think you'd still have such a thing?" Philippe asked.
Arland chuckled, "It is your sister's first opus, why wouldn't it be important?"
Philippe chuckled along, "So? What's the actual reason?"
"She handed me this small note. It was a piece of paper that was ripped from a notebook. She gave it to me and said; I need these things to make a watch." Arland explained.
"How is that any reason to keep it?"
"You'll see… Ah, here it is then." Arland walked towards us, handing a piece of paper to Philippe.
"Let me see!" My voice was stern this time.
Philippe ignored me, scanning the piece of paper before breaking into a smile. "Okay, that's fair." He started to chuckle loudly.
"Give me!" I raised my hands and Philippe handed me the paper.
When my eyes landed on the words on the paper, I could feel my heart cracking. I thought that maybe, my problem with my opus was that I had missing pieces. That maybe, there was something about the watch that I failed to notice.
"Wh- is this real?" Those words, my whimper was the only thing I could force out.
"As real as it could be. I wondered if she was uneducated or jesting. Imagine my face when she came back the day after asking me if she could trade the watch with another part in my inventory." Arland laughed.
"She wanted to trade it? It was her first opus, right? Why would she do that? I thought everyone kept their first opus?"
Philippe patted my head and lowered himself to meet my eyes. "Melody, in Gen's eyes, any opus she made that isn't her dearest sister is considered not an opus."
I looked at the paper once more. It had less parts than my non-working watch. It had less parts than father's own blueprints for a beginner's watch. This was…it was an amazing opus that no one could replicate.
"Gen's a genius…" I mumbled.
"I thought you knew that." Philippe said softly.
I met his eyes. Why did he looked at me so pityingly? "Y-yeah, but I didn't think…she's a…monster." There was no other word that came to mind.
"That's your sister you're talking about." He ruffled my hair. "She's always been a little monster. Lucky that she's not a bad one." Philippe stood and looked at me. "So? Will you try to keep trying your opus?"
My opus? It's not possible for me. It's not possible for anyone other than Genevieve. "I-I… I don't know."
"That's fine… Just give it some more thought." Philippe advised.
The next day, I woke up late. It was already nearing lunch, which meant everyone had their own business to go about. We usually don't have lunch together unless if we meet up with each other. On top of that, I didn't want to leave the house so if I'm alone here then I'll just spend time until dinner.
I didn't have any idea on how to spend it. Remembering my past times, I usually spend them in the park or with mother. Today however, it seems mother's not home.
I went up and down the house, entering everyone's room. Philippe's room in the second floor. Father's study then his and mother's bedroom, both of which are immaculately kept.
Then I walked down the stairs and entered Gen's room. It was a mess. When I looked around Arland's shop I was reminded of this room, but now that I'm here, I can see the difference.
For Arland's shop, there was a weird sort of order in that shop. I think I can describe it as controlled chaos. Something that I think I can appreciate now.
Gen's room was a just…chaos. Oddly enough, I know Gen quite a lot, so I know that if you were to ask her for anything in her room, she'd know where it is. One time, I witness her grabbed a small gear under one of the rubbles in here. I thought she had a system, but maybe she just memorizes everything.
If I think about what Gen's capable of, I feel dumb. I tried to copy and be like her when she herself is a genius…a monster. Then again, I don't think anyone would be able to make that stupid doll of hers. I don't even know how she incorporated Magicks into that thing.
My mind went round and round as I kept walking through the empty house. There was one room that I realized I never really enter. Actually, no one really enters it, which got me curious.
I opened the door and felt like I was smacked by a gust of wind that wasn't there. Inside the room were all instruments and music sheets stacked up neatly. Violin, Harp, and trumpet, even the white bodied-black keyed piano from the park. On the other side of the room was a music stand with a conductor's baton on it and a music book.
If I had to guess, this is my mother's atelier, but she stopped being a Virtuoso long before I was born. Even so, the room was still clean. There wasn't any speck of dust which means she still cleans this room up. As an aside, we were all taught to clean our own rooms while hired help clean the other, bigger rooms.
I made my way to the stand and picked up the baton. It was heavier than I thought, I was sure batons were supposed to be light. Then again, mother told me that a lot of Virtuoso have personal preferences for everything.
I then turned my attention to the book. It was a thin book with music sheets inside. The reason why it took my attention was the title of the book. It had my name, well sort of. It's called, 'Little Melody'.
I opened it and looked at the notes on the sheet. With curiosity, I sat on the piano and placed the music notes there. It was much higher than I am, causing my legs to dangle as I sat on it.
Even without the pedals, I should still be able to play the song. I know a little of the piano since mother taught it to me when we visited her old troupe. I hit the notes correctly, but my tempo was off. I grabbed a metronome in the room and placed it on top of the piano.
With the metronome guiding me, I played the song again. I thought that it might be the song she played in the park but it was a different song. It sounded soothing, pleasing, and oddly nostalgic. It's a hard song to play and one I've never heard of before, but still, I tried to play it.
Time passed and I have no idea how much time had passed. I kept playing the song repeatedly, failing each time and starting from the beginning. The notes were starting to get stuck in my head, bouncing around inside and driving me insane.
Unlike the opus I was trying to make – to replicate – this was a different insanity. No matter how much I felt like I was losing myself, I still felt like I was still in it. I was still here and I can still keep going.
In the end, I started the song from the very beginning. I made sure not to rush, not to be slow. I had to follow the rhythm, the flow, and make sure I didn't ruin any of it. I had to hit the notes firmly, gently, and forcefully. I had to glide my hands across them like I was a ghost. Then, I reached the finale.
After finishing the song, I could feel sweat dripping from my forehead. The metronome had stopped some time ago, I had not wind it up when it died. I did all that by practice and feeling alone. A nice warm sense of accomplishment filled me, making it so I can't stop smiling.
"Oh my! Will we have another Virtuoso in the family?"
I turned my head to the voice. "Mother!" I said aloud, the smile still plastered on my face. "W-what are you…did- did you hear that? Did you hear my playing?"
She giggled cheerfully, probably because this is the most energetic I've been for the last week. "Yes, I did. You were shining, dear."
"Like Gen?" A part of my heart stung when I asked that.
"No. You're not Gen and that's why you were able to shine brightly." She walked up and sat next to me, pressing the keys lightly. "Just as your father or brother would shine in their own way, you shone your own light. A light that didn't try to pretend to be someone else's. Your own light, your own star."
"Am I not copying you?"
"No, not really. After all, I would've played it differently. I would've played it fiercely, strongly, like a blaze or a wildfire. You, my little Melody, played it like a lullaby. If I had to say, you had the making of a Virtuoso." She smiled.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I could do something with this, at least, more than the opus. Gen would be surprised too! Would she be proud? Would she be happy? Would I be happy?
"This is still your choice, dear. If you want to, I can teach you all I know. Only if you want to."
Am I simply following her? Is that fine? "Am I not just following your steps?"
"Perhaps, but it's a step forward compared to your opus, no?" I couldn't deny that. "I had the same problem when I was younger. I was a Forger for eight years or so before becoming a Virtuoso."
"How did you know when you were making the right choice?"
She smiled. "That's the hard part. However, I remember being tired, in pain, and honestly, suffering. Yet, even with the stress and burdens, I did not want to stop being a Virtuoso no matter how much pain I was going through."
If that's the case, then isn't our fate just in a roll of a dice?
"Life is a gamble, my little Melody. That's why we explore our choices when we can. That's why your brother knows Arland. That's why I could become who I am now… That's why we let Gen leave." I shuddered when I heard Gen's name. "We don't know how it will become, we can only hope and do our best."
That's…scary. Why would our fate be so…indecisive? I'm scared….but curious.
"If- if that's the…case then…" I took a deep breath and looked into my mother's eyes. "Please teach me how to be a Virtuoso!" I pleaded.
With a warm and caring smile, she hugged me. "Of course, my dear." She let me go after hugging me tightly and fixing my hair. "Tomorrow though, it's already time for dinner, which is why I came here."
"I've been playing that long!?" I looked at the piano. "I'm a genius Virtuoso!"
"N-no, that's…that's not how it works." That was the first time I've seen my mother perturbed because of a joke I made.
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