- 10 years ago -
The Willdyer manor was a quiet place. It had always been a quiet place, as its inhabitants walked with poise, ate with poise, and even slept with poise. Under no circumstances should they betray their culture, for it will be an utter desecration to the Willdyer name and to the town.
"Whee!"
"Young master, young master, please slow down!"
But such courtesy did not apply to one particular nine-year-old heir, who is currently racing down the hallways as though playing a game of tag with his servants.
"Young master, please! You have classes right now—"
The boy halted abruptly, and so did his pursuers, who watched him intensely as if he was a nuclear bomb that would explode any second. He turned around, and grinned cheekily.
"If you can catch me, then I'll go to class!"
He sped off again, and the servants collectively groaned before resuming their pursuit. The heir slid down the banisters of the stairs deftly, landed on the marble ground floor, then proceeded to run into the direction of the dining hall.
But his chase came to an end when a tall figure blocked his path, and stared down at him like he was an insignificant insect that never brought any good, and only caused nothing but trouble. The boy braced himself for the scolding, as Master Willdyer barked,
"Darian Willdyer! Stop fooling around and go to your class this instant!"
—
At six o'clock, Darian rushed up to his room, excitement and anticipation pumping through his veins. The dinner etiquette classes with Miss Circum was so boring he would've fell asleep, but he endured it as his eagerness to meet his friend kept him awake.
Darian closed and locked the door, then poured his full attention into his hands, gradually creating a circular soundproof barrier that expanded little by little, until it enclosed his whole room. He hummed in satisfaction, dusting his fingers; he was getting better and quicker at manipulating sound now.
He then approached the window, looking out expectantly. Darian had been giddy ever since he finished his classes, and right now he was almost hopping with joy as he saw a figure wearing a case behind his back climb up the wall.
Darian reached out to pull the boy in, and they both fell inwards, one on top of the other.
"Ow, Michael! You're heavy!" Darian pushed him off and the boy tumbled aside, sitting up with a pout.
"That's so mean. You know all the weight is coming from this, not me!" Michael exclaimed indignantly. He took off the case and placed it on the floor, which turned out to be a violin case. He flicked it open, revealing the glorious instrument that glowed under the setting sunlight. The brownish timber of rosewood was clean and magnificent, its curved body elegantly crafted.
Michael picked up the violin, turning the pegs with caution. He then strummed the tight strings gently with his thumb and tuned it a little finer, while Darian just stared at him questioningly.
"You tuned that just yesterday. Do you have to do it again?"
Michael smiled. "Unfortunately, yes. A change in temperature can alter the sounds, so while it may sound all right in the day, it may sound flatter at night."
"That's annoying. You have to look after it everyday, as if it's your pet," Darian complained.
"Well, it isn't annoying if it's something you enjoy doing. Ready to hear my new composition?" Michael grabbed his bow that was equally well-cared for and held it in position.
"I'm all ears."
A melody so soft and so beautiful resonated throughout the room, and Michael poured his heart into the performance, closing his eyes while drawing the bow across the strings and playing the notes skillfully. Darian watched in awe as his friend played, his mind filled with only the harmony and the dashing charisma of his friend.
Michael was a relatively small boy for his age. His natural grey hair swept across his azure blue eyes whenever he moved, and his slender fingers were hardened with callouses on the tips. Everyday, Michael wore the same white, short-sleeved dress shirt and white pants, as they were the only garments he owned after running away from Dalphenstern. His violin was the only comfort he had while wandering through Witherblaire with his mother, both refugees as a result of mountainous debts left behind by irresponsible family members.
Nevertheless, Michael was still strong-willed, and believed that they can only get better from there. His determination proved him right when he accidentally stumbled upon the Willdyer estate one afternoon, when he was picking berries for dinner. He felt even more lucky when the young heir had spotted him from the window, and gave him food that was more than enough for three nights. Then, he hit the jackpot when he befriended Darian, and shared a bond thicker than blood with him.
Michael strung the last note, and the piece came to a finish. Darian clapped enthusiastically, cheering. "That was amazing!"
The boy blushed slightly as he placed his violin back into the case. "Thank you."
"You need to teach me that song. Do you have a music sheet? Or notes?"
Michael laughed. "I can write it down if you like. But why do you need them? You can create the exact same melody without needing the instrument."
At this, Darian's smile faltered, and Michael knitted his eyebrows. "What's wrong?"
"People always say that. They say because I have a Talent that can produce any sound, I can do it easily without requiring effort." He looked up, and the corners of his lips drooped. "But that feels like cheating! I want to learn how to play the violin too. I want to create music like how you do. And I want my efforts to be recognized as real talent, not because I'm Blessed."
Realization dawned on Michael. "Oh, I see. I'm sorry, Darian. I didn't know that's how you felt."
Darian shook his head. "It's all right. I guess it's because of my Talent, my family expects me to imitate any sound possible, so they always stop me from learning any instrument as they think it's a waste of time." He then folded his arms behind his head and leaned back. "But that's rubbish, so I just run and play around to make them mad. They won't let me do what I want, so I won't listen to them either!"
They both shared a laugh, but Michael was quick to remind him. "Don't go overboard, though. Your family seems to be really strict, especially your grandfather. Maybe you should listen once in a while."
But Darian merely flashed him a mischievous grin, and Michael sighed, seeing that there is no convincing his friend.
"Is your mom doing okay?" The heir asked.
Michael nodded. "She managed to tame some small beasts like Sullers, so they won't attack us at night. Now she's working on larger ones, like Drewls and Batcliffs. You know, sometimes I find her really amazing." He smiled softly. "She's so brave for approaching them, and so kind to be taming them. We're living peacefully in the woods thanks to her."
"She does sound amazing," Darian commented. "I can hardly remember my mom's face. Not that she's important, anyway."
"Why do you say that?"
Darian frowned. "For one thing, she's never around. Always off on business trips, and when she does come home, she only sticks to Father. It's like she doesn't even care about me. So of course, I don't care about her."
Michael looked down in shame. "I'm sorry. I keep bringing up topics that make you unhappy. I should stop talking."
"No, no! It's my fault, silly. I keep bringing down the mood," Darian reassured, waving his hand frantically. "I enjoy talking with you. Like, you're the only reason why I'm looking forward to each day. I love spending time with you."
His words made Michael turn pink. He coughed awkwardly, saying, "That's so embarrassing..."
Darian then pounced on him, tackling him to the ground and tickled him. "Then I'll make you more embarrassed! I like it when you giggle! I like it when you play the violin! I like—"
"Hahaha stop! Stop!"
Their cheery laughter rang throughout the room, as merry as jingling bells, heard to no one but them. In that one hour, the two boys had only each other on their minds, closed off from the rest of the world, and they were content enough with that.
—
Alina, Darian's Merry, was fuming outside.
She knocked again, and again, and again until her knuckles were red from pounding. Seeing that the heir still did not come out of his room to greet her, she huffed irritatingly and stormed around in circles.
How was she to get close to Darian if he wouldn't even spare her a look? Since last year till now, she had only seen his face for a total of three times. Granted, he was good-looking, and Alina wouldn't mind marrying him, but his attitude towards her was awful. She didn't think she was ugly, of course, and she was well-educated by the best tutors. So why is it that the heir never bothered to see her?
The sound of laughter from somewhere cut her off from her rambling thoughts. Curious, Alina approached the door and pressed her ears against it, listening. Indeed, there was laughter inside—and there were two voices, instead of one!
She was dumbfounded. The Willdyer heir is supposed to only interact with their family, servants and their respective Merry. They should not have any friends outside of the manor, for it spells a risk of the Tradition being revealed to the heir.
Alina closed her eyes and concentrated again. There was chattering now, and although it was soft and unclear, like a weak radio transmission, she could distinctly make out two voices; Darian's and a stranger's.
She kept this knowledge and hurried down to Master Willdyer's room, feeling triumphant as she had finally caught him. Now, Darian will have no choice but to be with her, and her only.