Aolani was a happy boy. Which, naturally, led into him being a happy teenager, and then into a happy man.

He wasn’t quite sure if “man” was right yet. He didn’t really feel like an adult yet. One week ago he’d entered his twenty-first year, by all rights an adult. He was even a user, held in the highest esteem by his culture, and most cultures around the world. Despite having his star for three years or so, he still only had the one.

Oh, he’d grown quite comfortable with his abilities. At least two of them anyway. He’d gained a third, and a subclass too. He had been extremely lucky to have found a second awakening item and felt blessed to the high peaks to have been given such a gift.

It’s just that the ability he’d gained was so… loud. He couldn’t stand it, nor could anyone in the whole city. When he’d first used it, there had been a quorum called to see if they would throw Aolani out simply for his use of the ability and the disturbance it had caused. They decided so long as he never used it near the city, he would be allowed to stay.

Well, that was fine with him. He didn’t like the ability anyway. Noise was meant to be beautiful, purposeful. If you made a noise, it should be a deliberate one, a glorious one. If you could not manage that, then you should not make noise at all.

Aolani walked through the city with his large leather case on his back, padded shoes on his feet. The well paved and beautifully maintained streets making it easy and comfortable to walk almost anywhere in the mountain city. To either side, merchants peddled their wares with exaggerated movements and brightly colored cloth banners outlining their booths. Some of them signed to each other, fingers and hands moving rapidly as information passed, arguments were held, and secrets divulged. Of course, the most secretive interactions would happen behind curtains, or with backs to the street at the very least, not wanting to be overseen by prying eyes.

However, today was different. One of the vendors, at the very end of the massive thoroughfare, had paid the outrageous asking price for a user’s services. There stood a beautiful young woman with silky chocolate hair and skin of caramel, but with splotches of pale white standing out along her exposed face and hands. Her petite horns, curved back to barely rise above her hair, were clad in clear crystal rings.

On her own, the woman might have only garnered a small amount of attention. She was stunning, yes, but they were a civilized people, and wouldn’t dare to crowd around or harass someone merely for their appearance. Nor would it have mattered overly much that she was a user. Again, a wondrous thing, but nothing out of the ordinary for Lah’heiana.

No, the thing that made her extraordinary, and what drew such a crowd, was that she was singing.

The otherwise silent streets were a comfort to many, not like the wilds at the base of their mountains, nor the raucous and horrid cities elsewhere in the world, the silence the lay over their city was as a blanket to a child. A soft, reassuring presence. However, music was the sacred exception, a blessing, a gift, a wonder to behold.

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Joining the throngs of people, Aolani listened, enraptured by the sonorous voice she let out. Her voice was a mid-range, mezzo-soprano. It wasn’t the lowest he’d heard, but still resonated sweetly between the buildings along the street, drawing all ears towards this vendor's shop in particular. She let out long, wavering notes, stringing them together to create a harmony with her own echo as it came back from the nearby peaks.

But Aolani knew it could be better. It was magnificent, but incomplete. like a grandiose home without any furniture. He weaved his way through the crowd and set down the thick leather case he’d been carrying on his back. Popping it open with a muted click, he took out his most precious and most valuable possession. The only thing in this world he truly loved. Both his weapon and his passion: His violin.

Taking him in, the woman smiled with her eyes, the notes and song uninterrupted and unceasing, but he knew the sign to be her consent, and at the perfect moment when she was reaching her crescendo, he started to work his own magic, interweaving it with hers.

The air bent and twisted, snapping into place like it had always wanted to carry their tones to the world. Her singing and his violin together, playing off one another and their returning echoes, propelled the song into new and uncharted heights. Aolani could never say how much time had passed when playing music. It could have been seconds, or days, it didn’t much matter to him. What mattered was the air, the wind moving around him, dancing with him, playing with him, and carrying his music on to others.

As their eyes met, her pure silver eyes radiant in the setting suns, and his just as bright and just as striking, even with their streaks of purest sapphire on the lustrous silver, Aolani thought that perhaps she could be the one to show him the path forward. The way to advance, even with such a cacophonous ability to train.

She very well might have been, in another few years. He sensed power in her with his aura, as was common for all users, especially with their abilities intertwined in the playing of their song, but not enough. She had hardly the same as him, possibly less even.

Her sounds were pure, her tones were clear, but the tempo was too slow. Eventually, his playing left her exhausted as she tried to keep pace, and she collapsed unconscious to the ground before Sarees had even risen fully into the night sky.

She would not be the one to help him. She was good, but not enough. He needed someone more, a partner who could match his desire for strength, but also keep pace with his tempo, his cadence with the world.

He played on, the sounds of his song turning sad and contemplative, seeming to weep with the vibrato chords and harmonies he made.

Perhaps it was time to descend the mountains. He was loath to do so, to leave the peace and quiet for a world of depravity below. But the winds, his ever-present guide, were guiding him on.

All three moons hung in the sky, one full, one waxing, and one waning. Their lights were on Aolani, he knew they were, he could feel them. The winds were guiding the moonlight just as they guided him, ever onward. Ever onward.

He knew, as the moons started to set, and the stars began to fade, that it was time to move on. The winds were changing, and so should he change with them.

With a final flurry of notes, and a quick gust of air, he opened his eyes and half the city out on the streets, on their balconies, sitting in trees and lining the rooftops. As he put down his violin, putting away his precious companion, they all waved their hands wildly in adoration and gratitude for the gift he’d given.

The gift of song, and the gift of a purposeful sound.