Late One Night...
Sylph moved silently, slinking around stacks of boxes and items she didn’t care about to follow the blue one out into the trees. “Quiet was needed, absolute quiet; not a sound. A sound and she’ll know” Sylph repeated in her head.
Long flowing white hair fell around her face, over her shoulders, but no matter how long it grew Sylph refused to cut it. Jet black scales covered her lithe dragon-like frame, cracked with fiery crimson. Horns curled from the back of her head, over pointed ears. Short spikes stuck out from her elbows. Vaelon they called her kind, the remnant of the dragons of long ago; souls jammed into the bodies of humans. It had some unexpected results but she enjoyed the feel of it. Better, much better than her old body. Easier to move around in, like the clothing she wore. A simple grey button up shirt, held closed by one or two buttons, the dusky red of her underbelly scales shown with each ripple of the cloth. Her brown pants were short, tattered at the hem, and held up with a thick braided cord.
The night was so quiet in Haven, up on highest floor of the underground city. The top level of the city was open to a star filled canopy that glittered as Sylph silently stalked her prey. She was easy to follow, and never one to leave the dusty dirt road. The blue one’s only companion was the violin tucked under her arm. So off Sylph slinked through the flat fields and around sleeping animals. Always moving, always going forward, towards the trees, and the moonlit shade.
Sylph hopped a fence and kept low. She could hear the crunching of gravel under the supple shoes of the one she followed. They were getting close, that’s all Sylph knew. Eventually the other vaelon girl stopped in a clearing and looked up at the night sky above. It was alluring, what with the countless stars, and the two moons each entering a different phase. The blue one sat her satchel down, the first sign of a long night; good.
The moonlit Siren was beautiful. Dark blue scales glittering like sapphires beneath curls of rich brown hair. She was dressed down considerably than normal, the white of her blouse and skirt stood out pale in the darkened shadows. The way Siren looked at the violin in her hands was akin to a lover; soft and gentle.
Sylph watched Siren from the tree she hid behind. The Dragon of Song had well earned her title, it emanated from the blue vaelon’s soul with every breath. She was plucking at the strings of the violin, letting each sound ring out into the night. If it didn’t sound up to standard then the cord was tightened or loosened and retried. Eventually the instrument was tuned to perfection and the first draw of the bow made Sylph practically melt into the tree.
Siren’s first song was one of exploration, a test of every boundary the instrument could make. It was low and drawn, a long journey of notes over endless terrain. Sylph could follow the picture with clarity as the forest came alive around her to vibrant sound. So intent was Sylph’s focus on Siren and the music that she almost yelped in surprise at the firefly that landed on her snout.
Pretty creature, lovely creature, she stepped back from the tree and noticed that there were more. Like embers in the night, the little insects floated around and Sylph’s grin widened. She wanted to giggle at the thought of it but that would give her position away, but the tempo of Siren’s song picked up pace. So in the end Sylph compromised; she danced. Silent and barefoot in the darkness she danced and felt the night come alive. Alone in her own world, surrounded with the soft glow of a hundred points of light; it was magic.Late into the night Siren played her song, speeding up, slowing down, thunderous cacophonies, and mournful wails. She knew that Sylph had followed her, one could almost count on it. Stealth was not one of the younger vaelon’s strong suits; she got clumsy with excitement. Still Siren liked to play for her, the greatest audience one could ever ask for, who loved every song, and every moment of the music that burned within her soul. Sylph wouldn’t be watching by now, too engrossed in her dancing, so Siren crept closer, playing without so much as a skipped beat. Wrapped in the luminescent glow of fireflies, Siren couldn’t help but feel completely at ease. These were the nights she lived for; surrounded by music with an instrument in her hands, and the one person in all of Dylaera she loved more than anything.
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