Author's Notes: Chopin, Ludwika, and Father Jelowicki were all people who really existed. Polka, Allegretto, Beat, March, Viola, Jazz, Falsetto, Claves, Count Waltz, Legato, Rondo, and Polka's mother (whom I have named Harmony) are the property of Tri-Cresendo.

After I finished Eternal Sonata I was a bit disappointed by the end, so this is my version of the story. Some of the more obvious changes are: Salsa and March have been melded into one character and the change of the nameless doctor from the game into Father Jelowicki a priest who knew Chopin and was actually at his deathbed to name a few. One more brief side-note; In this story all the characters look realistic, not anime so I have given everyone more normal hair and such. For example, Claves has brown, not pink/purple hair in this tale.

Preface

12, Place Vendôme

Frédéric François Chopin, the poet of the piano, was dying. He was at his home, 12, Place Vendôme, Paris, France. It was Eleven O' Clock and Ludwika, his sister, had called for the priest. As Father Jelowicki entered the room, Frédéric fell asleep. "I think Frédéric is leaving us." Ludwika tearfully told the priest as she led him to the bed where her brother lay. Father Jelowicki sat down in a chair set next to the bed. "Frédéric," said Ludwika. "The Father is here to see you." She turned to the priest. "He seems to have calmed down. He doesn't look in as much pain as he did before." The pianist continued to sleep.

"Mr. Chopin, can you hear me?" Mr. Chopin did not answer. The priest sighed. "It seems as though he must be having a peaceful dream."

"Yes, well, that would be nice" Ludwika said. "It would be even better if it means he's headed towards recovery. A full recovery."

"I have heard," he said, talking mostly to himself, "that people can have the most peaceful dreams just before they pass on." Ludwika opened her mouth to say something but Father Jelowicki stopped her. "It's just an old wives' tale, but, I imagine that the dreams he dreams tonight will determine whether he lives or dies."

Chapter One

Mediocrity for All

Polka was selling Floral Powder. Or rather, she was trying to sell it. Three years ago, when her mother had first started taking Polka to Ritardando help sell the medicine, people had flocked about her and Harmony, her mother. Mineral Powder, although a stronger, quicker-working medicine, had been too expensive and rare for most people to buy. Then Count Waltz ordered mining in the Sharp Mountains, suddenly Mineral Powder was cheap and plentiful. It also helped that Mineral Powder was one of the few items in the kingdom of Forte that had only a small tax. The wonder drug was a cure-all, unlike Floral Powder which only stopped common colds and fevers. So Polka spent her afternoons standing near the city church, showing off the famed flowers of Tenuto, but selling nothing.

Across the plaza there was a fight going on in a bar. A crowd gathered as the shouts of the two men fighting grew louder. Polka too, curiously walked over to the bar entrance. The fight reached it's climax when one of the men was thrown out of the window. He landed on the cobblestones with a crack and the crowd gasped. Polka ran to the injure man. "Are you alright?" She asked. The man managed a weak groan. Polka took a deep breath and stretched her hands over the man's body. Then she began to glow. A blue-green light shone around her body and the man on the ground. What remained of the crowd gave a shout and stepped back. The man opened his eyes and stared at Polka, whose glow began to fade. "Do you feel better now?" She said kindly.

"Stay away from me!" The man shouted, quickly crawling up to stand. "Don't touch me! Get away!" He waved his arms at her as he and the crowd shouted at the girl and ran away. Polka began to cry. She slowly went back to her flower stand, gathered her things, and began the long walk home. All that was left of the crowd were two boys. One was about 16, the other 8.

"Did you see that Retto? That girl glowed." The younger one whispered.

"Yeah Beat, I saw it." Said the other, crossing his arms.

------

"Beat! Run!" Allegretto cried, his arms full of stolen bread. Beat, Allegretto's younger companion followed him into an alley, huffing and puffing.

"Thieves! Come back with my bread! Thieves!" The bakery owner cried, shaking her broom. "It's those brats again." She muttered. Allegretto and Beat sat silently in the alley waiting for the commotion to die down. When it did Beat sighed and said,

"Whew, that was a close one, huh Retto?" He looked at the loaves of bread in his hand and smiled with pride.

"Nah, that was easy." Said Allegretto confidently.

"Easy? If that was easy, I'd hate to see hard." Allegretto laughed when Beat said this.

"Don't worry. Come on, let's deliver this bread. I'm sure everyone is getting hungry." Beat held back a moment. "What?"

"I don't like the rats down there."

"Come on, what do you expect? I mean, they live in the sewers. There's bound to be a rat or two! And besides, we're carrying fresh baked bread. You don't have to be a rat to want a bite of this." Beat still looked nervous.

"What if one of them bites us?"

"We've never been bitten before. I took care of them last time, didn't I?"

"I guess..." Said Beat.

"Besides, the people lucky enough to live in houses aren't the ones who need us to deliver food to them." At this point the boys had walked from the baker's in the middle of Ritardando, to the plaza, where, a few hours earlier they had watched Polka heal a man with magic. Behind the church was the sewer entrance and the boys went into it. Beat kept a wary eye out for rats, but to his relief he saw none. They made their way through the underground labyrinth until they reached a large, well lit room with a number of small children.

"What did you bring us?" One of them shouted excitedly. Allegretto smiled and held up the loaves in his hands. The children cheered. After passing out the bread, promising to bring something better next time, and saying their goodbyes, the breadwinners returned to the surface.

"Hey, Retto," said Beat as they returned to their hideout; an old abandoned cellar. "Why is bread so expensive? We wouldn't have to steal it for people if it was a little cheaper. Do you think the baker lady's being greedy?"

"Well, you know Beat. It's not actually the baker lady's fault."

"What do you mean?"

"The reason bread is so expensive is because of the high taxes on it. And it's not just bread. Everything you need in Ritardando for everyday life has high taxes on it. Seems like the only thing not taxed is Mineral Powder these days."

"So that's why everyone can get it," said Beat. "Because it's so cheap. I guess the Count of Forte really isn't as bad as grown-ups make him sound. I mean, at least he makes the medicine cheap." Allegretto frowned, deep in thought. "Besides." Beat continued. "You and I pretty much have the bread problem under control."

"Don't get cocky Beat, it's not taken care of yet." Allegretto threw open the cellar door. "Come on, it's time to eat." The boys had created a comfortable home for themselves in the cellar. Their were two beds, some shelves, a small table, numerous boxes filled with odds and ends and scattered on the floor were various toys of Beat's.

"It's too bad." Said Beat in the middle of his meal.

"What's too bad?"

"That magician girl we saw today, she probably won't come back here since everyone yelled at her." Beat sighed. "I guess I should've taken a picture of her." Allegretto groaned.

"Why are you still messing with that stuff? You need to look at things with your own two eyes. You'd see things a lot clearer if you didn't look at things through bent glass."

"That's not what photography's about at all Retto! And another thing," said Beat, getting angrier. "It's not called 'bent glass,' it's called a lens!"

"Alright, alright." Said Allegretto, waving his hand at Beat. "Calm down." He suddenly changed the subject. "You have to feel sorry for that girl. She won't be around much longer." Beat was shocked.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Don't you know anything? That girl could use magic. And that must mean she's sick with some kind of incurable illness. That's how it works. Magic is a side effect of her disease."

"And it's always fatal?"

"That's right. Not quick-acting, but deadly. Only people who are going to die soon can use magic like that girl did."

"Oh I get it. Nobody wanted to touch her because they were afraid of catching her disease too."

"Hm-hm. But most people don't know that the disease isn't actually contagious. It's just a rumor someone started."

"Really? How do you know?" Beat eyed his friend suspiciously. Allegretto began to chew his final piece of bread thoughtfully.

"I just do." He said.

"That's not a good reason!"

"You're right! We leave first thing in the morning!" Allegretto said excitedly. Beat dropped his piece of bread.

"What!"

"Anyway," Allegretto continued, "I've been wanting to leave for a while. The only thing Ritardando has to offer is mediocrity for all. Someone else can take care of the sewer children while we're gone." Beat was speechless.

------

Polka quietly crept into her house in the village of Tenuto. "Mom," she whispered, setting her basket down on the kitchen table. "I'm home." Her mother had her back turned to the door as put a few herbs into a pot of soup.

"Perfect timing." Said Harmony, not yet looking up. "I'm almost done with the soup. could you-" Her voice died away after she saw Polka's red eyes. She used her hand to brush the blonde hair out of her daughter's face.

"Mom," Polka gulped. "Are you afraid to touch me?" Harmony sat down by the table.

"You used your magic in Ritardando didn't you?" Polka nodded sadly.

"I'm not afraid to die." She said. "But I wish other people would like me, wouldn't be scared of me." Harmony hugged her as Polka began to cry again.

"Of course I'm not scared of you. I love you and I'm living proof that magic isn't contagious." She hugged her again. "Wash up for dinner, it's almost ready."

After dinner Polka walked outside and to the flower fields, as she often did in the evenings. Tenuto was a small town with no more than 15 buildings, including the stable, but it had acres upon acres of flowers. The village sat near the edge of a cliff, overlooking Ritardando and the the sea below. Some people thought it was the sea air that made the soil of Tenuto so good, others believed it was the altitude, and yet others claimed it was the inhabitants of the Village of Flowers, as it was called, that made the flowers so beautiful. Those who lived there did not know which idea was correct, although some of the older ones liked to think it was the third one. Perhaps it was a combination of all three.

Polka sat under a lone tree by the cliffside and looked at Ritardando, four miles away. The city lights don't look as bright as they used too. She thought.

"Your right." Said a voice from behind her. "They're not as bright as they once were." Polka gasped and turned around. Behind her, standing in the flowers was a man. He was tall, had dark hair, and a warm smile that seemed to say: I know what you're thinking. He took a pocket-watch out of his coat and glanced at it.

"I- I'm sorry." said Polka. "I must have been thinking aloud." The man laughed.

"It's alright. I agree with you, the lights are not as bright." He smiled at Polka. "You see the world with open eyes, don't you, ah..."

"I'm Polka." She said, hastily introducing herself. The man shook her hand.

"I am Frédéric François Chopin. You may call me Frédéric for short." He added, seeing Polka look a bit astonished by such an odd, long, name.

"Are you from Ritardando?" Polka asked. Chopin coughed.

"No, I'm from, well, quite far away."

"Then how do you know about the city lights being dimmer?" He coughed again as she spoke. "Are you alright?" Polka asked. Frédéric shook his head.

"I'm dying of Tuberculous."

"Oh. Then you can use magic too. I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Well it means you're going to die. And I am too." Polka said.

"You're dying?" Chopin asked. Polka nodded. "How old are you, if I may ask?"

"Fourteen." Frédéric was quiet.

"I'm... sorry."

"Anyway," Polka said in a lighter tone. "How did you you know about the lights being dimmer?"

"I created them." Was the simple answer.

"What!?" Polka said in surprise as Frédéric sat down next to the tree.

"This world," he explained, "and everything in it is my dream. Those lights, this tree, even you are just figments of my imagination. In reality, I am asleep." Polka was silent a moment, trying to think how this could be true.

"Alright then. If what you say is true, what am I thinking about right now? If we're really inside your dream mind reading should be easy for you."

"Of course it is. You were think that you don't want to use your magical abilities in front of other people anymore. Am I correct?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I don't blame you for feeling that way. No one likes to be hurt."

"Did you make the flowers then?" Polka asked, not telling her new friend if he was right or not.. Frédéric looked back over his shoulder at the fields.

"Of course I did."

"No, not those flowers, the ones in the forest." Chopin shrugged.

"I would think so." He said. Polka wasn't convinced and stood up.

"Come on, I'll show you them, they're not far."