the Magic Flute (for Lady of the Thread)
Title: the Magic Flute
Rating: K+
By: grey_damaskena
Summary: The life of a traveling minstrel is never dull. Quests aren't Ryuuren's standard stock in trade, but for someone of such fine musical taste, surely no service is too small!
Notes: . . . how did this turn out so long?
An animal roar gave the minstrel a moment’s notice to break off his playing before a whirlwind of fury broke through the trees-and they crashed together, edged steel against steel rod. At the unexpected clang of metal they sprang apart again, attempting to regain their bearings.
Ryuuren lowered his flute and raised his eyebrows. “You are quite the strangest animal I’ve seen in this forest.”
The rather bedraggled and dirty man straightened from his fighting crouch and put away a sword notably finer than he was. “And you are quite the strangest bird I’ve seen, ever. Er. But not in distress, I guess, if you were the one making those sounds.”
Ryuuren smiled, and twirled his flute in one hand with a theatrical swirl of his many-colored feathered cloak. “You liked it, sirrah? My latest composition! Pray tell, what did you think of it?”
The man, who looked to be fairly young under the dirt, looked embarrassed. “Um, well. I- you’ll forgive me saying so, but I rather thought it sounded like a maiden in some distress, being menaced by some sort of terrible beast.”
Ryuuren stared at him, open-mouthed.
The man fidgeted. “Sorry?”
“That- that’s-” Ryuuren gathered himself. “That’s amazing! Fantastic! This is the first time someone has truly understood my music! That was precisely what I wished to convey, and you grasped it completely! Sir, I am your man, most devotedly. For the compliment you have paid me, for the honor of a comprehending mind, perhaps- dare I say it?- a kindred spirit, allow me to help you, to offer you some service in return for this great gift you have given me!”
“You don’t have to do that-” the young man tried weakly.
“I insist! I absolutely must do you some boon, assist you on your quest! For clearly you must be on a quest- I’m a minstrel, you see, a bard, I can tell when there’s a quest afoot. Ryuuren, by the way, I shake you warmly by the hand.”
“So I see,” said the man, watching as his hand was pumped enthusiastically up and down. “I’m Ryuuki.”
“And you are on a quest?”
“Well, ah, actually yes.” The young man, Ryuuki, looked if anything more embarrassed.
“Saving a maiden in distress, perhaps?” Ryuuren prompted. It was pretty standard, after all; he could count it as an overwhelming obsession judging from the catalog of ballads at his disposal.
“Nothing so specific- really it’s a rather general quest, overall. I just have to, you know, prove myself. Save somebody from danger, expose some kind of evil deception, that sort of thing. You’d think it wouldn’t be that hard, but thus far all of my brothers have failed. I’m the only one left, and I haven’t been doing that well. I keep getting lost in this stupid forest, see.”
“Lost I can certainly help with,” Ryuuren said importantly, “I’ve traversed this forest many times, in my wanderings from one noble court to another. Finding a suitable answer to your quest problem might be a bit trickier.”
“Well, I thought I had that taken care of. This strange woman found me while I was traveling. Black hair, blue eyes, really nifty clothes- said she was the Queen of the Night, and that her daughter was being held prisoner in this forest. So I thought I could take care of that. Saving a maiden’s pretty quest-worthy, right? She gave me a portrait, I have it right here.”
Ryuuren accepted the ornate palm-sized frame and staggered theatrically to show his shock. “This is the daughter of the Queen of the Night? But I know her!”
Ryuuki looked hopeful. “You do?”
“Yes, I stayed at her house just the other night, it’s not three leagues from here. Rather tumbledown place, not that I’m complaining. To a footsore minstrel, a roof is a roof and a bed is a bed and a meal is a meal and a blue cloud in the sky is very obviously a sign advertizing the presence of a lurking dragon or perhaps a rainstorm, I get it mixed up sometimes. But yes, I have seen the lady! Shuurei, her name is. But- she didn’t seem like she was a prisoner at all. Lived with her father. She cooked me a most amazing meal and then made me scrub the dining room floor. I wrote a marvelous song about it, if you’d care to-”
“Ah, wait! That’s all right, really,” the young man said hastily. “Maybe she’s being held prisoner by some sort of magic spell. I think I read a story about that once, where a maiden was forced to cook and clean by her evil something-or-whatsit, which was somehow bad because people shouldn’t cook or clean? But I mean, what’s wrong with cooking and cleaning? It sounded kind of fun to me, I’ve never done anything like that before. Whatever, that part wasn’t quite clear to me. Maybe it was more the evil something-or-whatsit that she had to get away from. Maybe Shuurei’s father is actually an evil something-or-whatsit like that.”
“Dunno, he seemed pretty nice.” Ryuuren scratched at the feathers in his hair and shrugged philosophically. “But then it might have been a cunning disguise. I didn’t get to play my flute for him, so I can’t really be sure.”
At this the young man looked at him blankly. Really, he was very good at it, Ryuuren was impressed. Looking vacuous was apparently a well-developed skill of his. “My flute’s magic, you know? No deception can survive my music!”
Ryuuki’s vacuous look cleared. “Ah, I understand why, if the sample from earlier was anything to go by. My desire to flee was almost overpowering, I had to struggle to contain it. I’ve never experienced such an overwhelming urge to run away before. Indeed, when first I heard it for a moment I thought I would expire on the spot from sheer terror.”
“Sir, you compliment me too much!” Ryuuren blushed crimson. “To say that my music invoked such a strong emotional reaction in you- oh, I am flattered, I am undone. Come, come, let me take you to see the Lady Shuurei, before I am so puffed up from your praise that I float away like the very birds.”
******************
Ryuuren thoroughly enjoyed the walk back to Shuurei’s. His companion insisted that he not exert himself with playing his flute, which was vastly kind of him- to forgo his own pleasure in his concern for Ryuuren’s well-being! The minstrel felt truly touched by his thoughtfulness. Instead Ryuuren told him stories of his travels, to which the young man paid the strictest attention. Such was Ryuuki’s credulity that Ryuuren found he was even stretching the truth from time to time, just because he could. Ryuuki accepted it all with perfect equanimity and didn’t seemed to notice (not even when Ryuuren claimed the dragon he’d lured to sleep that one time had five heads, when everyone knew there could only have been three at most, and more likely just two. In fact there had been only one, but that was not nearly so impressive).
Before he knew it the ivy-covered walls of a familiar courtyard came into view along the forest road, along with the wrought iron gate permanently rusted open, and the over-large dilapidated manor house within. By happy fortune- dare he even say fate?!- the lady in question was in that courtyard, sleeves rucked up to her elbows and a sensible apron covering her dress, wielding a broom across the flagstones with absolute diligence. Her dark hair was falling down from beneath her kerchief in strands, and a streak of dust offset one cheekbone.
“Oh,” the young man said, pausing when he saw her. “Oh. She really is as lovely as her portrait. I thought it must have been exaggerated, but it isn’t at all, is it?”
Ryuuren wondered for a brief moment if perhaps Ryuuki’s standards and judgment were not entirely regular, but immediately dismissed the idea. His musical taste was flawless, after all. “Shuurei!” he called jauntily, causing Ryuuki to jump.
Shuurei looked up from her sweeping, and a strange expression crossed her face. It looked like she couldn't decide between welcome and consternation. “Oh, Ryuuren! I didn’t expect you back . . . what brings you this way?”
“Helping my two fine new friends, but of course!” he posed in the open gate, and then gestured Ryuuki forward with a dramatic swirl of his cloak. “This excellent man- as proven by his superior taste in music- is on a quest, and has come to save you!”
Shuurei took in the rather bedraggled would-be hero with raised eyebrows. “Save me from what, exactly?”
“Um, distress? I think that’s standard,” Ryuuki scratched his head and stepped forward to make a passable bow over her hand. “I’m Ryuuki.”
“Shuurei, good to meet you,” she returned, “And I suppose it’s nice of you to offer, but what makes you think I’m in distress?”
“A, ah, a woman in the woods. The Queen of the Night. She said you were being held captive, so I thought- and what with the cleaning- I heard a story once-”
Ryuuren’s suspicion that Shuurei was a remarkably clever woman was confirmed when she actually seemed to understand what the young man was saying. She laughed. “I’ve heard that story, I think- a couple of them, actually. They do seem to involve a lot of cleaning, don’t they? But it’s really not that bad. I’ve never heard of the Queen of the Night, anyway, I’ve lived here my entire life, with my father. We don’t have enough money for servants, what with Father’s miserable archivist salary, and this house is ridiculously huge, so it’s a lot of work to keep it up. It’s distressing sometimes, sure, but it’s not the kind of thing I need rescuing from. A helping hand, though-”
Ryuuren cocked his head to one side, a habit purposely adapted from the birds he resembled. Performance art would catch on eventually, he was certain of it. “You seemed at least a bit distressed before I left, for a little while . . .”
“That was because Father decided to make you a snack to take with you on the road. He’s a disaster in the kitchen, he somehow manages to destroy it utterly just making tea-”
“Laid out in the parlor, if our guests would care to come in,” said a pleasant male voice from the manor’s entranceway. “Hello, Ryuuren, welcome back. And- another guest, a rare day indeed-”
“Shouka?!” Ryuuki’s eyes went comically wide.
The worn and somehow faded man on the steps, who to Ryuuren’s sensitive nose smelled of ink and vellum and something that resembled rust, was rather good at pretending to be surprised. Anyone who wasn’t Ryuuren would surely have been fooled. “Oh, Prince Ryuuki! How’s the questing going, hm?”
Shuurei’s eyebrows looked like they were having trouble staying on her face as she gave Ryuuki a closer look. “You’re a prince?”
He didn’t really look the part, what with the dirt, but Ryuuren had noticed the fineness of his clothing and weapons, and was not the least surprised.
Ryuuki shrugged apologetically in answer to Shuurei's question, and sighed his answer to Shouka's. “Less well than it was going a bit ago. I thought I had finally found a maiden to save from distress . . . but I guess Shuurei must be the daughter you’ve told me so much about over the years. You’re clearly not an evil something-or-whatsit like you used to tell me stories about, anyway.”
“Well, there is an easy way to make certain! No deception can stand the sound of my flute! I will play, and then we shall know for certain the truth of the matter,” Ryuuren declared, raising his flute to his lips.
Ryuuki’s eyes went wide- with excitement, clearly. Shuurei and Shouka had much the same reaction. “No, that’s all right, you don’t have to-”
He put all of his warm feelings at their thoughtfulness in not wanting him to exert himself into the song he played then, a spur-of-the-moment composition just for them. The sound, so suffused with his joy, would slice through deceit like a sword.
No spectacular revelations occurred. All three members of his audience clapped their hands over their ears, too overcome by the brilliance of his performance to be able to stand the full impact of his soulful notes. He drew his melody to a close- no need to overwhelm them completely. “Well, I guess that’s confirmed it, then,” he said graciously, to give them a moment to recover themselves.
“Indeed,” Shouka cautiously lowered his hands. “Well, then. There’s still tea waiting, why don’t we go inside?”
“I would love to have some of your tea, Shouka, I’ve never had any like it,” Ryuuki said, heaving a sigh. “But if Shuurei’s not in distress, I’ve got to get back to questing. Otherwise I’ll never get to prove myself.”
Ryuuren blinked as he realized something. “Not so, my friend! Your quest is at an end!”
“. . . um, did I somehow save someone without realizing it?”
“No, not that! But you said that exposing some sort of deception fulfilled the terms of the quest, did you not?”
“Well, yes, but you played, and nothing changed, so,” he shrugged.
Ryuuren beamed at him for his unquestioning faith in the minstrel’s abilities. “But that means that there was indeed a deception revealed- that of the Queen of the Night! She lied when she said that Shuurei needed rescuing, as you have revealed!”
“Well, I guess you’re right,” Ryuuki said, scratching his head, “but it seems like cheating somehow, you know? It’s not like I really did anything brave or heroic to prove myself worthy.”
“Bah, you are clearly very brave. After all, back when you thought I was a maiden being menaced by some sort of terrible beast, you came straight to my rescue, didn’t you?”
Shuurei coughed down something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, and then added, “Also, you appear willing to drink Father’s tea, which is certainly heroic.”
“As for your worthiness, I think I can report that your studies under my tutelage over the years certainly qualify you,” Shouka said.
“There, you see?” Ryuuren posed triumphantly. “All you need now is for the fame of your achievement to spread far and wide through the land- and that is my duty as your faithful minstrel! You may leave everything to me! In fact, I have a wonderful idea for how to popularize the tale . . .” he paused dramatically, “. . . an OPERA!”
Shuurei and Shouka turned identical shades of pale with what was no doubt astonished enthusiasm.
Ryuuki looked blank. “What’s opera?”
Ryuuren’s eyes gleamed with feverish glee. “You don’t know?! Allow me to demonstrate!”
“NO!” Shuurei and Shouka shouted together.
Ryuuren leaped onto the gatepost with a majestic swirl of his feathered cloak, opened his mouth, and sang.
For three hours.
Rating: K+
By: grey_damaskena
Summary: The life of a traveling minstrel is never dull. Quests aren't Ryuuren's standard stock in trade, but for someone of such fine musical taste, surely no service is too small!
Notes: . . . how did this turn out so long?
An animal roar gave the minstrel a moment’s notice to break off his playing before a whirlwind of fury broke through the trees-and they crashed together, edged steel against steel rod. At the unexpected clang of metal they sprang apart again, attempting to regain their bearings.
Ryuuren lowered his flute and raised his eyebrows. “You are quite the strangest animal I’ve seen in this forest.”
The rather bedraggled and dirty man straightened from his fighting crouch and put away a sword notably finer than he was. “And you are quite the strangest bird I’ve seen, ever. Er. But not in distress, I guess, if you were the one making those sounds.”
Ryuuren smiled, and twirled his flute in one hand with a theatrical swirl of his many-colored feathered cloak. “You liked it, sirrah? My latest composition! Pray tell, what did you think of it?”
The man, who looked to be fairly young under the dirt, looked embarrassed. “Um, well. I- you’ll forgive me saying so, but I rather thought it sounded like a maiden in some distress, being menaced by some sort of terrible beast.”
Ryuuren stared at him, open-mouthed.
The man fidgeted. “Sorry?”
“That- that’s-” Ryuuren gathered himself. “That’s amazing! Fantastic! This is the first time someone has truly understood my music! That was precisely what I wished to convey, and you grasped it completely! Sir, I am your man, most devotedly. For the compliment you have paid me, for the honor of a comprehending mind, perhaps- dare I say it?- a kindred spirit, allow me to help you, to offer you some service in return for this great gift you have given me!”
“You don’t have to do that-” the young man tried weakly.
“I insist! I absolutely must do you some boon, assist you on your quest! For clearly you must be on a quest- I’m a minstrel, you see, a bard, I can tell when there’s a quest afoot. Ryuuren, by the way, I shake you warmly by the hand.”
“So I see,” said the man, watching as his hand was pumped enthusiastically up and down. “I’m Ryuuki.”
“And you are on a quest?”
“Well, ah, actually yes.” The young man, Ryuuki, looked if anything more embarrassed.
“Saving a maiden in distress, perhaps?” Ryuuren prompted. It was pretty standard, after all; he could count it as an overwhelming obsession judging from the catalog of ballads at his disposal.
“Nothing so specific- really it’s a rather general quest, overall. I just have to, you know, prove myself. Save somebody from danger, expose some kind of evil deception, that sort of thing. You’d think it wouldn’t be that hard, but thus far all of my brothers have failed. I’m the only one left, and I haven’t been doing that well. I keep getting lost in this stupid forest, see.”
“Lost I can certainly help with,” Ryuuren said importantly, “I’ve traversed this forest many times, in my wanderings from one noble court to another. Finding a suitable answer to your quest problem might be a bit trickier.”
“Well, I thought I had that taken care of. This strange woman found me while I was traveling. Black hair, blue eyes, really nifty clothes- said she was the Queen of the Night, and that her daughter was being held prisoner in this forest. So I thought I could take care of that. Saving a maiden’s pretty quest-worthy, right? She gave me a portrait, I have it right here.”
Ryuuren accepted the ornate palm-sized frame and staggered theatrically to show his shock. “This is the daughter of the Queen of the Night? But I know her!”
Ryuuki looked hopeful. “You do?”
“Yes, I stayed at her house just the other night, it’s not three leagues from here. Rather tumbledown place, not that I’m complaining. To a footsore minstrel, a roof is a roof and a bed is a bed and a meal is a meal and a blue cloud in the sky is very obviously a sign advertizing the presence of a lurking dragon or perhaps a rainstorm, I get it mixed up sometimes. But yes, I have seen the lady! Shuurei, her name is. But- she didn’t seem like she was a prisoner at all. Lived with her father. She cooked me a most amazing meal and then made me scrub the dining room floor. I wrote a marvelous song about it, if you’d care to-”
“Ah, wait! That’s all right, really,” the young man said hastily. “Maybe she’s being held prisoner by some sort of magic spell. I think I read a story about that once, where a maiden was forced to cook and clean by her evil something-or-whatsit, which was somehow bad because people shouldn’t cook or clean? But I mean, what’s wrong with cooking and cleaning? It sounded kind of fun to me, I’ve never done anything like that before. Whatever, that part wasn’t quite clear to me. Maybe it was more the evil something-or-whatsit that she had to get away from. Maybe Shuurei’s father is actually an evil something-or-whatsit like that.”
“Dunno, he seemed pretty nice.” Ryuuren scratched at the feathers in his hair and shrugged philosophically. “But then it might have been a cunning disguise. I didn’t get to play my flute for him, so I can’t really be sure.”
At this the young man looked at him blankly. Really, he was very good at it, Ryuuren was impressed. Looking vacuous was apparently a well-developed skill of his. “My flute’s magic, you know? No deception can survive my music!”
Ryuuki’s vacuous look cleared. “Ah, I understand why, if the sample from earlier was anything to go by. My desire to flee was almost overpowering, I had to struggle to contain it. I’ve never experienced such an overwhelming urge to run away before. Indeed, when first I heard it for a moment I thought I would expire on the spot from sheer terror.”
“Sir, you compliment me too much!” Ryuuren blushed crimson. “To say that my music invoked such a strong emotional reaction in you- oh, I am flattered, I am undone. Come, come, let me take you to see the Lady Shuurei, before I am so puffed up from your praise that I float away like the very birds.”
******************
Ryuuren thoroughly enjoyed the walk back to Shuurei’s. His companion insisted that he not exert himself with playing his flute, which was vastly kind of him- to forgo his own pleasure in his concern for Ryuuren’s well-being! The minstrel felt truly touched by his thoughtfulness. Instead Ryuuren told him stories of his travels, to which the young man paid the strictest attention. Such was Ryuuki’s credulity that Ryuuren found he was even stretching the truth from time to time, just because he could. Ryuuki accepted it all with perfect equanimity and didn’t seemed to notice (not even when Ryuuren claimed the dragon he’d lured to sleep that one time had five heads, when everyone knew there could only have been three at most, and more likely just two. In fact there had been only one, but that was not nearly so impressive).
Before he knew it the ivy-covered walls of a familiar courtyard came into view along the forest road, along with the wrought iron gate permanently rusted open, and the over-large dilapidated manor house within. By happy fortune- dare he even say fate?!- the lady in question was in that courtyard, sleeves rucked up to her elbows and a sensible apron covering her dress, wielding a broom across the flagstones with absolute diligence. Her dark hair was falling down from beneath her kerchief in strands, and a streak of dust offset one cheekbone.
“Oh,” the young man said, pausing when he saw her. “Oh. She really is as lovely as her portrait. I thought it must have been exaggerated, but it isn’t at all, is it?”
Ryuuren wondered for a brief moment if perhaps Ryuuki’s standards and judgment were not entirely regular, but immediately dismissed the idea. His musical taste was flawless, after all. “Shuurei!” he called jauntily, causing Ryuuki to jump.
Shuurei looked up from her sweeping, and a strange expression crossed her face. It looked like she couldn't decide between welcome and consternation. “Oh, Ryuuren! I didn’t expect you back . . . what brings you this way?”
“Helping my two fine new friends, but of course!” he posed in the open gate, and then gestured Ryuuki forward with a dramatic swirl of his cloak. “This excellent man- as proven by his superior taste in music- is on a quest, and has come to save you!”
Shuurei took in the rather bedraggled would-be hero with raised eyebrows. “Save me from what, exactly?”
“Um, distress? I think that’s standard,” Ryuuki scratched his head and stepped forward to make a passable bow over her hand. “I’m Ryuuki.”
“Shuurei, good to meet you,” she returned, “And I suppose it’s nice of you to offer, but what makes you think I’m in distress?”
“A, ah, a woman in the woods. The Queen of the Night. She said you were being held captive, so I thought- and what with the cleaning- I heard a story once-”
Ryuuren’s suspicion that Shuurei was a remarkably clever woman was confirmed when she actually seemed to understand what the young man was saying. She laughed. “I’ve heard that story, I think- a couple of them, actually. They do seem to involve a lot of cleaning, don’t they? But it’s really not that bad. I’ve never heard of the Queen of the Night, anyway, I’ve lived here my entire life, with my father. We don’t have enough money for servants, what with Father’s miserable archivist salary, and this house is ridiculously huge, so it’s a lot of work to keep it up. It’s distressing sometimes, sure, but it’s not the kind of thing I need rescuing from. A helping hand, though-”
Ryuuren cocked his head to one side, a habit purposely adapted from the birds he resembled. Performance art would catch on eventually, he was certain of it. “You seemed at least a bit distressed before I left, for a little while . . .”
“That was because Father decided to make you a snack to take with you on the road. He’s a disaster in the kitchen, he somehow manages to destroy it utterly just making tea-”
“Laid out in the parlor, if our guests would care to come in,” said a pleasant male voice from the manor’s entranceway. “Hello, Ryuuren, welcome back. And- another guest, a rare day indeed-”
“Shouka?!” Ryuuki’s eyes went comically wide.
The worn and somehow faded man on the steps, who to Ryuuren’s sensitive nose smelled of ink and vellum and something that resembled rust, was rather good at pretending to be surprised. Anyone who wasn’t Ryuuren would surely have been fooled. “Oh, Prince Ryuuki! How’s the questing going, hm?”
Shuurei’s eyebrows looked like they were having trouble staying on her face as she gave Ryuuki a closer look. “You’re a prince?”
He didn’t really look the part, what with the dirt, but Ryuuren had noticed the fineness of his clothing and weapons, and was not the least surprised.
Ryuuki shrugged apologetically in answer to Shuurei's question, and sighed his answer to Shouka's. “Less well than it was going a bit ago. I thought I had finally found a maiden to save from distress . . . but I guess Shuurei must be the daughter you’ve told me so much about over the years. You’re clearly not an evil something-or-whatsit like you used to tell me stories about, anyway.”
“Well, there is an easy way to make certain! No deception can stand the sound of my flute! I will play, and then we shall know for certain the truth of the matter,” Ryuuren declared, raising his flute to his lips.
Ryuuki’s eyes went wide- with excitement, clearly. Shuurei and Shouka had much the same reaction. “No, that’s all right, you don’t have to-”
He put all of his warm feelings at their thoughtfulness in not wanting him to exert himself into the song he played then, a spur-of-the-moment composition just for them. The sound, so suffused with his joy, would slice through deceit like a sword.
No spectacular revelations occurred. All three members of his audience clapped their hands over their ears, too overcome by the brilliance of his performance to be able to stand the full impact of his soulful notes. He drew his melody to a close- no need to overwhelm them completely. “Well, I guess that’s confirmed it, then,” he said graciously, to give them a moment to recover themselves.
“Indeed,” Shouka cautiously lowered his hands. “Well, then. There’s still tea waiting, why don’t we go inside?”
“I would love to have some of your tea, Shouka, I’ve never had any like it,” Ryuuki said, heaving a sigh. “But if Shuurei’s not in distress, I’ve got to get back to questing. Otherwise I’ll never get to prove myself.”
Ryuuren blinked as he realized something. “Not so, my friend! Your quest is at an end!”
“. . . um, did I somehow save someone without realizing it?”
“No, not that! But you said that exposing some sort of deception fulfilled the terms of the quest, did you not?”
“Well, yes, but you played, and nothing changed, so,” he shrugged.
Ryuuren beamed at him for his unquestioning faith in the minstrel’s abilities. “But that means that there was indeed a deception revealed- that of the Queen of the Night! She lied when she said that Shuurei needed rescuing, as you have revealed!”
“Well, I guess you’re right,” Ryuuki said, scratching his head, “but it seems like cheating somehow, you know? It’s not like I really did anything brave or heroic to prove myself worthy.”
“Bah, you are clearly very brave. After all, back when you thought I was a maiden being menaced by some sort of terrible beast, you came straight to my rescue, didn’t you?”
Shuurei coughed down something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, and then added, “Also, you appear willing to drink Father’s tea, which is certainly heroic.”
“As for your worthiness, I think I can report that your studies under my tutelage over the years certainly qualify you,” Shouka said.
“There, you see?” Ryuuren posed triumphantly. “All you need now is for the fame of your achievement to spread far and wide through the land- and that is my duty as your faithful minstrel! You may leave everything to me! In fact, I have a wonderful idea for how to popularize the tale . . .” he paused dramatically, “. . . an OPERA!”
Shuurei and Shouka turned identical shades of pale with what was no doubt astonished enthusiasm.
Ryuuki looked blank. “What’s opera?”
Ryuuren’s eyes gleamed with feverish glee. “You don’t know?! Allow me to demonstrate!”
“NO!” Shuurei and Shouka shouted together.
Ryuuren leaped onto the gatepost with a majestic swirl of his feathered cloak, opened his mouth, and sang.
For three hours.