act29side

And also... *sigh* Actually, now that I've gone and said it, I think something's not quite right with the boy lately.

On the day he got your recommendation letter, he asked me why his father didn't need one back in the day. Said he'd entered a certain Graf's spire solely by his own abilities.

'Talent was more important than lineage back when His Majesty was still around.' His words.

...Where exactly has he been hanging out these days?

Not sure.

The twisted horn sculptures.

As you implied, Jan shouldn't have even known what they looked like. Which means someone else showed him first.

Oh, right. Which area used to have the highest concentration of those twisted horn sculptures?

Hm, Gustav Park? Not far from here. They call it Forest Park these days.

You should head home early today, Thiem.

Huh? Sure. Wait, Herr Bordin? Why did you give me your wallet? You could buy a whole year's worth of beer with this much!

Keep it. It's for Jan.

He's a clever kid, and should go to a good university. That should be enough for him to leave Leithanien and go polish himself in Victoria or Columbia.

The rain stops.

The park fountains do not, not even when the rain was still falling earlier.

There are people sitting or standing under the trees in groups of two of three, most holding an instrument. Violins, flutes, cellos. They seem to be playing independently, but the resulting performance is a harmonious ensemble.

Melodies both soothing and mournful dance on the water and float through the trees.

When I was a child, I heard that Einwald was a vast stretch of black forest before the nomadic cities were built.

And whenever someone important passed away, people would go deep into the woods to remember the departed while playing their favorite music.

I don't see you holding an instrument.

When I returned to Leithanien, I brought nothing with me.

I used to believe I could play all manner of instruments, but later I met a teacher I respect, who was keen to tell me that I didn't understand the first thing about music.

But what he meant was... I didn't understand emotions.

Back then, I couldn't comprehend how that was possible. My short life had clearly been brimming with more than enough loss and suffering.

And then?

And then... my friend died.

Then you must have felt <i>true</i> pain.

To be honest, I'm still not sure I truly understood.

Then I left Leithanien and travelled the lands. I would play for the people I met, and their praise grew only more enthusiastic with every place I visited.

But I haven't played anything specifically for my dear friend in a long, long time.

I'm sure they'd love to hear your performance, no matter what level you're at.

I know. And precisely because I know, I hope I can improve.

Have I ever actually tried to stand up to anything in my life?

Can I honestly tell him, with my back straight and my head held high, that I lived a life full enough, rich enough... that it was worthy of his sacrifice?

I can't imagine how he would reply... because I'm not even sure what to say to him in the first place.

And you, sir? Who do you hold in your heart when you come here?

A mentor. He left us twenty-three years ago, but I never forgot him.

He must have been a great man.

I heard that this park was established to commemorate the victims from twenty-three years ago. Every tree standing here replaced a twisted horn sculpture made of flesh and blood.

I have to admire them. During those dark times, they had the courage to stand up and resist fate.

Perhaps you're the same.

A lot of the music we listen to is much older than even the entire history of Leithanien. The wills of the departed continue to live on in us, through their music.

Live on in us... Right. I want to believe that.

Do you see that man standing over there?

You mean... the one carrying a sword, who's been following you?

That's the one.

Do you know him?

Serious, calm, lacking emotion.

Their faces always look so alike I don't even bother distinguishing them anymore.

My time's up, isn't it?

...You certainly enjoy wasting time, 'Graf Urtica.'

Wunderbar. So I didn't mistake you for someone else.

Truth be told, Herr Overseer, I did think I was ready for you when I first walked into the park.

'If Their Majesties want my life, then they can have it.'

After all... from then 'til now, and even for the foreseeable future— my life has never truly been a boon to anyone.

Did you come here to plan your suicide?

I only considered it for a moment. Besides, if I'd pointed my wand at my throat you'd rush in to stop me, no?

The Voice of Mundane has yet to play. So you cannot die.

What a shame... No matter who I hear that from, it never makes me the slightest bit happy.

Can you hear that cello? I spent the afternoon reviewing my past through the sound of music, and myself on the water's surface.

And my conclusion? My life really isn't worth any more than it was a few years ago.

However, just like back then, no one can use it or manipulate it. Especially not—

You people.

What are you saying—

An ambush?!

Several black spheres conjured with Arts leap from the puddles in the area.

They had been camouflaged within the reflections of the trees in the water, and accompanied the melodies drifting through the air as they accumulated energy from the wobbly ripples.

—Ugh!

So they sent a whole party just to execute me. Would you like me to perform a deep bow in appreciation of Their Majesties?

Sadly, I'm doomed to disappoint them.

I still haven't figured out when I'll play for him.

But there <i>is</i> one thing I will absolutely tell him myself.

'I tried. I was always trying.'

'I never stopped resisting.'