Sona finished the aria with a final sweet chord. The curtain created a welcome barrier between her and din of the audience, her head reeling from the sheer volume. Backstage provided a silent sanctum in which the beautiful Maven composed herself before facing the loud world once more. A dark shadow caught her eye as it got up from the corner. Its voice was muffled and hoarse.
"Lovely performance. You two make a good team," the shadow said as it approached. Sona took a step back. Then another. And another. "You found a very good hiding place. But it's too late now. I found you." Sona uttered a silent gasp as her etwahl trembled beneath her hand. "Time to die like your sisters did before you, Liliana." The etwhal squealed, loud and out of tune, its beautiful frame twisting before Sona's eyes, the strings snapping as her heart died with the instrument. The world seemed to shatter like a mirror as her vision blurred and faded. The last thing Sona remembered was a desperate voice coming from her hands pleading with her not to let anyone know its name.
Sona awoke screaming silently. The bed sheets twisted around her arms and legs, slamming her head on her bedpost as she struggled. Sona freed herself and ran to her table. Plucking a savory note on the etwahl reassured her that it had all been a dream. Sona blinked and found herself slumped at the table cradling the etwahl with the late morning sun streaming through her open balcony door and the smell of the lunch roast cooking downstairs.
"Look who woke up," Lux taunted as Sona glided into the kitchen half an hour later. Sona grabbed an apple and glided outside. Ignoring Lux was always better than taking the bait. Why Lux hated her so much was beyond her. The etwahl hummed a comforting note as Sona glided toward the rose gardens. The rose gardens provided her with many things: comfort from the flowers, solitude as she was the only person to make use of them, inspiration for new music, a safe haven on a bad day. Sona sat in her usual spot by the fountain. Last night's dream haunted her still. Two questions ran in circles in her mind: who was that shadow and how did that person know her etwahl's name? Sona shook her head to clear it. She couldn't worry about night time fancies when she had a performance in the evening.
The theatre was packed tight. All eyes watched the Maven of the Strings as she played. Swain leaned over to whisper in Katarina's ear. Katarina rolled her eyes. As much as she...admired...Sona's skill, the last thing she wanted was to hear Jericho Swain doting on her as only a fanboy would. Although she had to give him credit. Swain controlled his doting so that it could easily be mistaken for modest respect. Katarina looked at her program. One more song before the night was over. She was anxious to get home. If only this shitastic day could end.
No one saw why Sona suddenly clutched her etwahl to herself and turned her back on the audience. All anyone saw was her robes turning to ribbons and her body collapse. It was five minutes before anyone could comprehend what had just happened enough to react. Swain reached the stage first, issuing orders for someone to call an ambulance. Swain checked for vital signs. Her pulse was weak, but steady. Paramedics arrived within minutes and prepared her for transport. Swain accompanied the gurney as it rolled toward the door.
Sona drifted in a haze. She could hear voices, but they were distant and distorted. Reaching out with her mind, Sona called out. Protect me. The fog was disappearing into darkness. Please. Protect me. Swain stopped. Had he really heard her speak? No. Her lips did not move. The voice in his head grew fainter as the Maven of the Strings was rolled out to the ambulance. Swain caught Twisted Fate's eye across the aisle. It was clear that they had both heard it.
"Everything alright?" asked Katarina at Swain's shoulder. Swain looked at her and cleared his throat.
"Yes. Let's get you home. Shall we?" Swain offered his best friend's daughter his arm and joined the crowd pushing towards the exit. The feeling that the night was far from over flooded his body. Jericho Swain knew he would be back here tonight.