Gold streaks and pale outlines glinted in the dim lighting. The mansion was as silent in the night—as quiet as it would ever be. Lights were on in one of the many Grand Halls that the veritable palace offered, but they were dimmed, as though the room itself were in a state of half-sleep.

The piano there had always somehow sounded both loud and muted once the general sound of day-time activity had retired. As though the very noise of it all, the booming chords, the cascading scales were all somehow offensive without a more formal audience to hear. And to keep its secret, the carpets and tapestries and furniture all promised to muffle the music that could give its location away…

Sebastian was probably out there, Zelos knew, waiting in the shadows. If his man-servant had been anyone else he might have gone to farther lengths to hide from him as well. Sebastian was Sebastian, however, and Zelos was oddly comforted by this. He couldn't remember a day without his loyal help—the man's quiet presence was a rare source of security, even if etiquette and proper behavior did prevent the man from more open displays of kindness. After Zelos' mother had… passed away, his father had returned to what Zelos could only assume had been the life he led before marriage. Sebastian had become the closest thing Zelos ever had—and would ever get, he mused soberly—to a fatherly figure.

Not that this mattered. Nothing ever really mattered in the end—life was an empty canvas, with a hollow space behind it and a blankness that even the thickest layers of paint could never really stretch to cover.

Zelos stared off into space, elbows on the magnificent instrument's keys. The dissonant chord that had leapt from the piano at his weight had long since faded, though any shift of the Chosen's position was likely to bring more notes creeping after their predecessors.

Zelos let out long sigh that he probably hadn't even noticed giving until the loose sheets of music before him stirred faintly. His eyes widened—he was being unlike his usual self. But then, a small voice in his mind retorted gleefully, he had needed time away from himself to begin with. He had told lavascious smiles which he normally would have answered in kind that his health was beginning to deteriorate due to too many nights spent with too little sleep, nothing to worry about and that he would be better than ever the night after… In a way this was true, but it was only an excuse to spend yet another night without rest, the difference being that this one was alone.

Arpeggio. A broken chord. A series of notes that were played with a rippling motion, rather than all at once. Why did was it called an 'Arpeggio', anyway? Someone had once told him it was Old Martelian for something, but he couldn't be bothered to remember what. Why hadn't the name changed when the rest of the language had? Why did traces of it still linger when it was obviously a useless language to learn, when all of Meltokio and Sybak spoke common? Goddess, even the impoverished little backwater villages spoke common—everywhere but Mizuho, but that wasn't important… Not very.

The small part of his mind that somehow enjoyed his brooding was only too happy to whisper to him that yes, it was useless, they had no reason. Just like the Journey of World Regeneration that he would someday embark on, where his pathetic, worthless life would be exalted as a hero's, and he—

Zelos jerked to close the unbound book of loose music, wincing his other elbow accidentally pounced a jeering chord to hound that cut-off train of thought. It was best not to think about that, about any of that, because those thoughts never led to anything enjoyable, and if his life was such a joke he might as well laugh with it as much as he could—

"Master Zelos, are you alright?"

Zelos stiffened at the voice, closing the book and turning in his chair with a look of forced cheer.

"…Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" He said without turning, voice sounding loud and overly-enthusiastic in his own ears.

"… It is very late, Master Zelos…" The Chosen's butler glided from the shadow he had been waiting in, like a benevolent wraith floating in a fog. "… Perhaps…" He began carefully.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll be going up, now. Tomorrow's another big day" The youth winced. He'd tried to put as much bravado into his voice as he could, but even he had to cringe at the obvious bitterness leaking its way in. He would have to do better than that. "I'm fine Sebastian." He repeated quietly.

"As you wish." Sebastian said quietly, and Zelos could tell he was grateful. The man was a servant, and while technically his duty was only restricted to the daytime, he hadn't had to get up at this ungodly hour of the night, he had taken it upon himself to look after the Chosen as much as he could for as long as the flamboyant youth could remember, and… Zelos shook his head slightly, hiding a frown as he stood and turned. His thoughts were going in circles, and they could do that just as easily while he waited for sleep to claim him.

Forcing a grin out of habit (though Sebastian would believe it as much as he believed the answer to his question), Zelos bid him a distracted 'good-night' and left him to dim the lights that had been turned on when his manservant had heard the Chosen stirring in his room.