Summer's Storm
The stormy glare was intimidating. It was burdensome enough on its own, but knowing the other party's status made it ten times worse. Still, I couldn't just ignore it, so I swallowed hard and opened my mouth.
"Um. What I think?"
What did I think? I wanted to punch them in the face. Anyone could see they were picking a fight outright. But I had no intention of blurting that out. I had my dignity as a noble to uphold. So, I spoke in the most refined tone befitting nobility.
"Seeing you so casually belittle others, I can't help but think your level is truly low."
At my polite tone, the elves sitting across from us flushed red and blue. They looked like they wanted to snap back immediately but were glancing warily at Selenie. Meanwhile, Selenie didn't even spare them a look, flashing an intrigued smile as she said,
"Mm! You're right—it's not good to casually judge others like that. Isn't it?"
She glanced sharply at the elves at the end, and they paled instantly, stammering,
"Th-that's."
"We're sorry!"
These guys who wouldn't have flinched at anything I said now looked like scolded children. But Selenie's words didn't end there.
"You seem awfully confident in your skills. How about showing them on stage? I'm curious if you're really good enough to casually judge others like that!"
Her tone was soft, but the content was brutally direct. How good are you to run your mouth like that? That's what she was asking.
"You'll do it, right?"
Not just tossing it out there—she even pressed them again. The elves broke into cold sweats before finally replying,
"Y-yes."
"We will."
"Perfect, the stage is free! Come on up!"
In the end, the elves were pushed onto the stage. Selenie had only just appeared, drawing all eyes to our conversation, so everyone in the building was watching them. Most looked quite interested. And for good reason—no one had really heard what those elves said to me. Besides, humans were a minority in this place anyway.
"Start whenever you're ready!"
But under Selenie's pressure alone, they were sweating profusely as they tuned their instruments. I watched the scene, then glanced at Selenie standing right beside me. Honestly, I hadn't expected things to unfold like this. For the famous Selenie to suddenly show up? Monica and Temi were stealing glances at her too, clearly intrigued. Well, at least with Selenie stepping in, my boiling anger had cooled a bit. But that didn't erase the negativity entirely.
Who do they think they are, such arrogant musicians? No, it was offensive regardless of their skill. Still, with my temper somewhat settled, I watched the elves on stage.
Ding—
Soon enough, the elves took their positions and began playing—without even announcing the piece, their minds clearly elsewhere.
Ding, diring—
Their skill... wasn't bad. To be precise, they were pretty good. Far beyond hobbyist level. They were probably professional musicians.
"Ooh."
"Not bad, huh?"
The crowd seemed to agree, their expressions positive. Meanwhile, Monica beside me frowned, then smirked and whispered just loud enough for me to hear,
"We're doing it too, right?"
"Obviously."
"Good. We can crush them."
There wasn't a shred of doubt on Monica's face. And why would there be? I didn't think I was amazingly talented, but Monica was a genius among geniuses. She'd earned that title without any cheats like my past-life memories. Professional-level elves? Monica had been called pro since she was a kid. And one more thing. We were pulling that out here.
"That piece?"
"Yeah."
The unmodified Carillon was a concern, but Monica would handle it. She'd practiced plenty on the original version. We finished our quiet talk and refocused on their performance. No matter what, zoning out during someone else's play was rude. No need to stoop to their level just because they were mediocre.
Ting—!
Their performance ended soon after. As the final string's echo faded into the air, decent applause filled the hall. The elves, still wary of Selenie, couldn't quite smile, but relief was evident. Probably glad they'd finished without mistakes despite the tension.
"Not bad."
And right then, Selenie's voice rang out.
"A bit ordinary, but I enjoyed it."
The evaluation was middling at best, but that alone brightened their faces. "Ordinary" by Selenie's standards meant "good" by common measure. But her words didn't stop there.
"Still, I wonder if it's skill enough to casually look down on and belittle others. I don't think so, myself."
She still smiled, but her words cut deep. What was the intent of someone hailed as the top living musician saying that? She was openly stating that no skill justified casually insulting others. The elves flushed red again.
Selenie seemed content to end her scolding there. But not me.
"Lady Selenie."
"Yes?"
"May we perform as well?"
She smiled at my words, as if she'd expected it.
"Of course. The stage in my place is open to everyone."
"Thank you."
I bowed politely and stood, grabbing my violin case. Naturally, Monica stuck by my side.
"Fighting!"
Temi called out brightly from her seat, looking utterly unconcerned. Well, she knew Monica's caliber, so no worries there. With all eyes on us, we climbed onto the stage. The elves passed us with complicated expressions, heads down, descending into the crowd.
As we took the stage, countless gazes flew our way. Most were intrigued, though a few looked down on us. I figured that was possible. Long-lived races like elves often dismissed short-lived humans. How could a human who barely lives a century compare to an elf who's played one instrument for centuries? But I ignored those looks.
Sure, there were many great elven musicians. I knew that. But I also knew elves didn't have a monopoly on great music. If living long made you good at everything, those pointy-ears would rule the continent.
Click—
I calmed my mind and drew the violin from its case. Things had escalated unexpectedly, but the piece I'd prepared was one I'd practiced for this city anyway. The capital was too high-profile for casual performances. But here? We were nobodies in a city teeming with stars.
"Phew."
I exhaled deeply and took position. Before starting, I addressed the audience.
"The piece we'll play is Summer from the Four Seasons. Third movement."
Summer, third movement: Presto. The one commonly called the storm.
"Let's go."
I said it and drew the bow.
Sweeeee—!
A sharp melody pierced the entire hall. Monica's passionate strikes on the Carillon keys rang out too. I kept my ears tuned only to her, bow unrelenting. The swift bow birthed piercing notes in endless succession.
Unlike Spring from the Four Seasons or Salut d'Amour that I'd played before, this was a different beast. Not soothing listeners, but igniting passion. Like a storm, it unleashed torrential energy, filling the building.
Each bow stroke whipped up winds. Each key strike pelted us with rain. As always, immersion swept away trivialities. In this moment, I focused solely on unleashing the master's work through my hands.
Move the bow. Move it again, and again, unfolding the world I'd known. Master's music has depth. I groped for that depth with my fingers, pressing forward. And eventually, a bright light appeared far ahead.
The more I moved, the closer it came—until I reached it.
Sweeee—!
I lowered the bow and lifted my head. Sweat dripped from my brow. Beside me, Monica looked drained too, despite the short piece. But our eyes met, and we smiled in unison.
We'd nailed it perfectly.
And right then—
"Waaaaaaaaah—!"
"Whooo!"
Clap clap clap clap clap—!
Applause and cheers erupted. Looking out, everyone wore the same expression: intense admiration, shock, excitement. Especially the elves who'd insulted us—they looked utterly soul-crushed. Seeing that washed away my lingering negativity.
Music has no winners or losers, but anyone could see we'd won this round.
And then, the crowd parted as Selenie walked through.
Under all those gazes, she said,
"Intense. Thrilling."
Her eyes curved like a crescent moon. Then, in a clear voice for all to hear,
"Mind if I invite you all to my home?"