Author: Violet Violinist PM
Sure we've all heard the story of the Pied Piper, but nobody has ever heard of the story of Iris Moonhart, otherwise known as the Piper. Her story has a darker turn, one with demons, murder, and even a romance or two.Rated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy/Romance - Chapters: 7 - Words: 8,653 - Reviews: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 12-16-11 - Published: 12-15-11 - id: 2979712
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Settling of the Spirit
Iris had become a statue. Her skin was still warm to the touch, her heart still beat, and yet she could not move. The pale lady simply did not feel like moving. In fact, she could hardly tell that Devin was still holding her hand.
Words had put her into this state. Soft words, yet words that carried the weight of the world and then some in their tone. Words that should make sense to the former AP student who had nearly gone down the path of perusing one of the wordier careers. Her parents had wanted her to be a lawyer. Iris was certainly glad she chose to pursue music instead. How embarrassing would that have been? To be told that she was the hostess of some immortal spirit of a long gone musician and have never picked up any instrument before.
"Iris," Devin said softly and lovingly as he nudged her softly. "Dear, you're drooling."
The statue that was Iris suddenly blushed, not only because she had been leaking saliva out of her mouth, but because the detective had called her dear. She quickly moved her free hand, which had miraculously healed over night up to her mouth where it trembled a bit before wiping away the spit. "Sorry," she said as a general statement to everyone about pretty much everything. "I guess that this is just quite a bit to take in. I mean, isn't it impossible? You know for Spirits to decide to rest over new people in different generations. Wouldn't I, well, we, have known about this?"
At that point, most of the Council sighed. It sounded as a typical windy October day. One where all the leaves had nearly already fallen, yet the wind still continued its song. They all stared at each other for the longest time, daring each other to answer the questions asked of them. These were not light questions, and the answers were not easy to put into words.
Finally, Sirena, the Creator of the Spirits cleared her throat. This was her area of knowledge, and her responsibility. She had regretted it for most of her existence. "My dear child, when are you going to learn? Nothing is impossible. Surely you should know that much by now." The woman said sweetly.
"Now, as far as the pair of you to have realized that you play hosts to two of the Four Spirits, which would have taken much longer naturally. It would have taken much more time than we have available to us.
"You see, the Spirits only come about when needed, and they choose people pure of heart. The two of you happen to be as such. The Piper is more decisive, ready to take charge. The Fiddler is a fiery type of person. The Drummer has always been quite loud. The Seer, well, that's the easiest to tell, even though the personality varies from person to person."
As helpful as Sirena's explanation seemed to be, Iris was still confused. Devin had loosened his grip on her hand because he felt satisfied with knowing that much at the moment. He still had no idea what his job was as Seer yet, but he was getting somewhere. He knew who he was.
"So how do I find out who I am?" Iris asked. She was getting tired of all this. Her mind was in need of a nap, and as far as she could tell, it was still morning. That definitely wasn't a good thing when the rest of the day still lay ahead of her.
"Well, that is where things are actually quite simple," Fenir replied in a rather uncharacteristic voice as the man who had escorted Iris to the room in which she currently found herself entered with a large black box that the musician immediately recognized as being an instrument case. However this one appeared to be much larger than any other case she had encountered before. "All you have to do is pick an instrument."
The young woman's green eyes lit up like a child's does when they sneak down early on Christmas morning to see that under the pine are piles and piles of brightly wrapped boxes waiting to be opened. "Any instrument?" she asked enthusiastically.
"That would appear to be so Miss Moonhart. Of course, you may only choose from the case," Zuro said softly, as though he didn't want the wrong ears to hear it. As he spoke, the man placed the case on the table in front of where Iris was sitting.
Inside of the case were three instruments. There was a silver flute lying atop a velvet bed, as well as a violin that would make a Stradivarius look like any run down fiddle found at a garage sale, as well as drum sticks that had clearly been used, and yet showed no sign of wear. Iris knew how to play each of these instruments, since she had lessons in them all. Now it was simply a matter of which she liked the most, of which she felt the most comfortable playing after all these long years. The pale woman hadn't played any of those instruments since high school. She had majored on piano in college, and played guitar here and there in a few bands that would come and go. But which one called to her?
She had to pick soon. From the looks of things, the Council wouldn't wait forever, especially Deidra. Iris had to admit that the violin wasn't her favorite, and the drum was much too loud, and the flute took way too much air, but that didn't make her decision any easier. However one of the instruments seemed to keep calling out to her, begging for her to glance at it, to touch it, to pick it up. It glimmered gently, making the other two seem much plainer and less interesting in her eyes. The instrument filled her head with a song that gave her memory of her Spirit's past lives. Journeys taken and foes vanquished all with a simple strand of notes.
Iris had made up her mind, or rather it had been made up for her. The song that played in her head clearly belonged to one instrument, and one instrument alone out of the three was destined for her. She let go of Devin's now sweaty palm, fairly certain her own palm would be sweaty enough on its own without the help of her date, and stood up in order to lean over the case. The raven-haired lady appeared to have been placed in some sort of a trance, as though it were no longer Iris controlling the body next to Devin, but the original Spirit moving her along like a puppet. Her pale hand stretched toward the case, it held no hesitation. Iris had picked up the flute.
"Welcome Piper to the Clandestine Council," Aravi said formally, causing the other Council members to applaud gently. Even the man who had brought the case in seemed glad.