The First Notes of Spring
This wasn't it. To me, music was my closest friend, the pillar that held up my life. My mother, a composer, had played all sorts of pieces for me since I was very young. My father, who wasn't in the music business but played piano as a hobby, often performed for us. Music had been with me practically from birth. Naturally, I grew up wanting to follow that path myself.
But life is unpredictable.
"I'm sorry. Daddy's so sorry..."
When I turned fourteen, my father's company went bankrupt. Red eviction notices plastered our home, and overnight, we had to move into a tiny semi-basement room. The piano I'd grown up with, the violin I'd received as a tenth birthday gift—they were all gone. Dad no longer had time to play; he was constantly traveling the country, doing grueling manual labor. Mom would collapse into bed after working late into the night. Inevitably, I had to give up my dreams of music.
Music cost too much money.
Still, my parents were willing to support me through ordinary studies and college.
"No, I want to work here."
But I refused. I had no interest in any path but music, and I didn't want to force myself into something else. Better to start earning money early—that way, I could ease their burden. But saying that outright would only make them sad. And if I was going to work anyway, I wanted it to be in a field that at least sparked some interest.
"I've always been into instruments, you know."
So I chose an instrument workshop. I'd always loved instruments themselves. Even if I couldn't pursue music as a career, I wanted them close by. Thankfully, my parents respected my decision. And thanks to Mom's connections from her composing days, I got a job at a small workshop she knew.
"Instruments don't just make themselves."
After starting work, time flew by in a blur. Nine-to-six hours? A pipe dream. Early mornings in, late nights out—that was routine. Of course it was tough. But I didn't want to quit. Despite the hardship, it was fun.
"Focus! Even a tiny flaw means it's scrap!"
When scolded harshly, I'd redouble my efforts. "Hmm, not bad." The first lukewarm praise made the exhaustion fade away. "You're really shaping up. Make this one from start to finish yourself." Finally earning recognition and crafting an instrument solo had me jumping for joy.
I spent eight years at that workshop. Then I decided to study abroad. By then, I'd saved enough money, and our family's fortunes had recovered somewhat. I'd specialized in violins and violas, but overseas, I learned a broader range of instruments. Of course, I never neglected playing them either. Even if performing wasn't my profession anymore, I loved music.
Another ten years abroad. Just as I was thinking of returning to Korea to open my own workshop...
I got into an accident.
Screeeeech—!
Bam!
The memory is still vivid. Light. Intense impact. Consciousness slowly fading. The funny part? Even as I blacked out, my first worry was my fingers. Losing my hands would have been devastating.
But that worry was meaningless.
"Ah."
I remembered.
"I remember now..."
I was in a young boy's body.
Yes. I'd reincarnated. And I'd recalled my past life's memories.
That alone was astonishing, but something even more incredible awaited.
"So this is... an isekai world?"
The place I'd reincarnated into was utterly different from Earth. Magic existed here. Multiple races lived together. Dangerous magical beasts roamed. In my past life's terms, it was a fantasy world.
When I first recalled my memories, I holed up in my room for three straight days and nights. But as time passed, my head cleared. I knew what I had to do.
If I'd been born into an ordinary family, I'd have worried about survival. But not this body. I was Arden Clover, second son of the Count Clover family. I couldn't inherit the title, but money and food weren't issues!
So there was only one thing left.
"Music. Let's make music."
To fulfill the lingering regrets from my past life.
Early morning. After waking, washing up, and changing, I left my room right away. Servants bowed in greeting as I walked the long corridor. I nodded back casually and kept going.
My destination: the workshop in the castle basement.
As I opened the door, a middle-aged man with a long gray beard bowed deeply.
"Young master. Good morning."
"Dale. Morning!"
I greeted him brightly and approached. "How's it going?"
"Just as I reported yesterday—it's complete."
"Let me see!"
Excited, I spoke up, and Dale smiled, stepping aside.
"Ooh!"
There it was. None other than the violin.
"Finally!"
Gazing at the violin, I recalled three months ago. Upon remembering my past life, I'd resolved to pursue music. My older brother had long been set as the family heir. I wouldn't inherit anything. But my parents fully supported whatever I wanted to do.
Thanks to them, I'd studied magic since childhood—the height of my passion before regaining my memories. But once they returned, my love for music reignited.
I told my parents I wanted to learn music.
-Great idea.
They approved wholeheartedly. Decades ago here, music was a commoner's hobby, but now nobles learned it as refined culture. They not only supported me but promised to send me to the Imperial Academy for proper training.
Permission granted smoothly—but one problem: no instruments I knew.
Similar ones existed, but subtly different. Learning new ones would be fun, and I wouldn't slack on that. Still, I yearned to play the pieces I knew on the instruments I knew.
So I decided to craft a violin. With the family artisan Dale, after much trial and error, we'd made it.
"Let me play it."
"Yes. I'm looking forward to it too."
Dale smiled. We'd tested it during crafting, but never a full piece. This was the violin debut.
I picked it up. First, tuning. Violins slip even after a day; always tune before playing. I'd taught Dale the basics, but I preferred doing it myself.
Smooth, smooth.
Tuning done.
"Whew."
I exhaled deeply, assumed position. Chin rest secure, left hand on fingerboard. My young arms felt a bit short, but the sensation was anything but foreign. No—profoundly familiar. Like reclaiming a lost half of myself.
Smooth.
Right hand relaxed, bow hovering over strings.
Scrape.
A faint friction. Barely a sound—just strings meeting bow. Yet my lips twitched upward. A mirror would show an ecstatic grin.
Slowly.
I focused, drawing the bow steadily.
Slowly.
The first note flowed. Dale watched in wonder.
Similar instruments existed here. But dull resonators made muddy tones, fewer strings, short fingerboards—precise pitch was hard.
Slowly.
But this violin was different. It would express exactly what I intended.
"Perfect."
What to play? Something fitting this moment, this mood.
Ah, yes—that one.
Smooth.
The bow moved, first note leaping brightly. A melody poured forth, like sunlight bursting through winter's grip, filling the workshop.
Dale's jaw dropped slowly.
Smooth, slowly.
The bow danced over strings. Crisp notes danced alive, lifting each other. Light ones soared like birds. The melody flowed like spring breeze.
I grinned, playing joyfully. A perfect match for now: celebrating new seasons, new birth.
Vivaldi's Four Seasons—Spring.
Slowly.
Final chord drawn, bow lifted. Bright resonance circled the room, fading gently.
Brief silence.
"...Incredible."
Dale spoke at last, dazed, emerging from the afterglow. "I've never heard music like this."
Flattered, I smiled sheepishly, about to reply.
Whoosh—!
Sudden bright light cascaded from the ceiling. Caught off guard, Dale and I looked up in shock.
The light seeped slowly into the violin in my hands.
And where it soaked in...
"This is...?"
A vivid pattern etched itself. A circle intersected by lines.
Armonia's Mark
Meanwhile, at that very moment, chaos erupted in the temple of Armonia, goddess of harmony and music.
The saintess Stella had received a divine revelation.
"Go where the clover blooms lushly."
"There, a new melody awaits."
⟨ Armonia's Revelation ⟩
The priests huddled immediately to interpret it.
They quickly reached one conclusion.
Clover. Only one family in the empire used it as their symbol: the Clover Count family.
They dispatched Saintess Stella and the priests to the estate at once.