Jomei had been studying the mysterious ciphered tablet for hours to the point that its symbols began to look alike. Even with countless years of research and dedication under his belt, no clear solution was in sight. Deciding it was time to rejuvenate his spirit, he stood up, stretching.
Exiting his study, the playing of a violin greeted his ears. Pleasantly humming along to it, he strolled down the hallway of his home, paintings of father, mother, and daughter adorning the walls. Stopping in front of the door that the music originated behind, he knocked.
“Come in!” a female answered, the music pausing.
About to open the door, Jomei laughed when he wasn’t the one to open it. In front of him stood Cantrelle, his daughter, who brightly smiled. She boasted shoulder-length black hair that flowed like a river, hazel eyes that sparkled like pearls, and light brown skin that contained all of her big heart for those who couldn’t afford to blush.
Meanwhile, her room had a personality of its own. Numerous instruments hung on the walls, from an acoustic guitar, wood flute, and tribal drum to a cowbell, horn, and many more. Additionally, stacks of sheet music were tacked next to their respective instrument. Light shone through the windows, making her room about as happy as her every morning.
“You sure are a sight for your father’s sore eyes,” Jomei said, hugging her.
“Better than looking at that tablet all day, huh?” she said, returning the embrace.
“Ay, of course,” he chuckled, pulling away.
Cantrelle’s smile was soon replaced with a frown. “Can I be honest with you, dad?”
“It’s always encouraged.”
“You really should take a break from that tablet...” She threw up her arms dramatically, though whether it was playful in origin was unknown. “You’ve studied it every day!”
He nodded. “I wish I could, darling… but I can’t.”
“Why is that?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow.
Jomei hesitantly shook his head. “I wish I could tell you, but I can’t.”
“Then at least let me help! I hate seeing you tear yourself apart over some… some stone!”
“But you have been helping me… you just may not realize it yet.”
The girl sighed. “You’re so stubborn, dad.”
“Your mother always thinks the same,” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
“Must be why she also thinks you dedicate too much of your life to a tablet…” she muttered, picking up her violin. Perching it on her collarbone, she readied her bow.
Stolen novel; please report.
“It’ll all make sense soon, I promise… but hey, how’s that music sheet I gave you coming?”
Cantrelle playfully rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, dad. Whatever you say… but it’s been coming along good. I’ve been spiraling from it to make my own music! Che―”
“That’s great, darling, but I really need you to focus on the music I’ve been giving you.”
She lowered the violin, sighing. “You never let me make my own music, dad…”
“Nonsense! You’re always allowed to make your own! After all, the most important thing for an artist is artistic freedom! Just… not when I really need your help. Don’t get them confused.”
She sighed. “That sure gives me a lot of freedom when you always need me…”
He stood in silence for a moment before raising a finger. “How about this: we move our play along session to right now. If it goes well, you can have the rest of the weekend to yourself.”
The girl quickly stood up, determination painting her eyes. “I accept your terms!”
“Wonderful! We’ll be playing in my office this time… I got somethin’ to show ya,” Jomei said before bolting off down the hallway, his heavy footsteps echoing through the house.
About to chase after him, she stopped. “I― dad, wait! What instrument do I use this time?!”
“Your violin still!” he hollered back.
Swiftly making her way to his office, Cantrelle stopped in the doorway, her mouth agape. Her father was sitting in a chair next to a harp she’d never known he had. A smile covered his face as he ran his finger across the strings, the resulting sequence of sounds reminding her of paradise.
“So… whaddya think?”
“It’s beautiful!” Cantrelle said, thoroughly analyzing every little bit of the harp like a child eyeing their favorite candy. Setting her violin and bow down, she extended a hand, beginning to walk forward like she was in a daze. To just touch it once wo―
“Hey,” her father said, swatting her hand down when it got too close. “What’re you doin’?”
“Yowch,” the girl muttered, her hand retreating. “I just wanted to touch it…”
“No. It’s mine,” Jomei responded playfully. “We’re here to play music, young lady.”
“Can you at least tell me what it’s called? Pretty please?”
Her father raised an inquiring eyebrow. “You name your instruments?”
“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!”
Alright, alright, you little skrævinunci! Simmer down now!” he laughed, running a hand along the strings. “Its name is ‘La Resonancia del Abatimiento.’ Beautiful name, isn’t it?”
Cantrelle tilted her head. “Very. What does it mean, exactly?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s where I’m not sure. Still trying to figure that out…”
Grabbing her instruments and taking a seat next to Jomei, she gave him a pat on the back. “How about we start by figuring out if I’ll have the weekend to myself?”
“That sounds lovely,” he responded, leaning the harp’s tip against his chest.
“What song are we playing?” Cantrelle asked, readying her violin and bow.
“Start playing the sheet music that I gave you a couple days ago. I’ll join in.”
Closing her eyes after a subtle nod, the girl began playing at a leisurely, yet sanguine tempo. After a few moments, the harp seamlessly joined in, interweaving its somber, cascading voice with the violin’s weeping, eloquent voice. Together, father and daughter permeated their home with a melancholic harmony. It was a two-person orchestra hoping to recreate paradise.