Tira entered the royal gardens when the festivities were in full swing. She had taken the time at a water barrel to wash herself up a bit, and was feeling much more refreshed. She was still wearing the white dress she had been clothed in from the Shadowlands, merely because she had nothing to change into. However, although it was somewhat dirty and a little stained, it looked quite good on her. It was simple in design, light and flowing.

She looked around her, and many differences between Noradz and Del were immediately apparent. The first major difference was how relaxed everyone was. In Noradz, while people hadn't exactly been tense all the time, they couldn't have afforded to let themselves be completely at ease, because dangerous mistakes were too easily made. An outdoor party would have been unheard of in Noradz, and yet here she was, watching people walk barefooted on the grass carelessly, enjoying the fresh, crisp air of a late spring night.

Yet another difference was that the people were allowed to eat…well, freely was the only way to put it. She was quite surprised to see people eating with their fingers, taking their time and helping themselves to anything which was available. While the food in Noradz was more appealing than this, it was always limited to a given quantity, and was never eaten with such careless ease.

When she entered, a small group of Ralad men and women were on the platform, playing a traditional song on the flute.
As it happened, Tira's people had loved the arts before their city had fallen. A city whose name had long been forgotten. The city built afterwards had discouraged performers, and through the years, the arts had eventually been dissolved out of memory. Before hearing the song of the Pirran pipe, Tira had never in her life heard music before. It fascinated her, and she found herself amongst the crowd of supportive spectators, completely wrapped in the melody they created.
While no song could be quite so beautiful as the song of the Pirran pipe, one thing the pipe could not do was create a harmony. Tira was amazed as how perfectly the notes and pitches from seven different flutes interlaced with each other. Sometimes a few flutes would lower volume and pitch to allow another flute or two to be heard more, almost like a solo, yet still backed up by a faintly heard melody. But the parts Tira loved best were when all seven joined into one loud chorus, a catching rhythm that seemed to radiate energy, lifting the spirits of all who listened.

As the song ended Tira felt as though she was waking from a trance, and she was not alone. The crowd broke into applause and the Ralads bowed low. Tira looked around her curiously at the foreign gestures. When she worked out that clapping seemed to mean appreciation, she joined in, nervously at first, then with more confidence.

The Ralads left the stage and the band set itself up again. Whilst it was setting up, Tira made her way over to the tables, giving the occasional greeting to someone she knew. It felt a little strange making the old Noradz greeting again, and she didn't feel that she wanted to make it anymore. It seemed wrong somehow. Dimly she remembered Kain offering her his hand, and realised this had probably been some sort of greeting too, and wished she had known what she was supposed to do.

She looked up and down one of the long rows of tables in front of her. She couldn't remember ever having eaten with her fingers, but that seemed to be the only option here. Delicately she selected a slice of roast lamb for herself, and tasted it. It was salted, and had a strong, rough flavour. It was unlike the careful, subtle, and varying flavours she was used to, but it wasn't bad.

From there she did as the other Deltorans had done. She helped herself buffet style. If she had been more used to it, she probably would have been a lot more relaxed and enjoyed her meal more, but she kept expecting that she would be caught by a Ra Kacharz and condemned for such a filthy act. But even her fellow people of Noradz it seemed, were excusing their own customs and eating as they saw fit.

All around the gardens there were places to sit and rest; garden benches, set-up chairs, relatively comfortable boulders, yet even the grass was fit simply to rest on in comfort. Tira took a small cake with her as she sat on the grass with her back against a tree, a little away from everything. For the next little while, she sat simply watching and listening. She listened to the band play and watched the various instruments, she watched the people dancing, (something else she had never seen before) and she watched the general surroundings.

The band played a few more songs, all of which were thoroughly enjoyed by Tira, then they all put their instruments down to join in the festivities while the next performers came on stage. It turned out that a few of the freed Deltorans; a group of Jalis, had put in a request for a performance. Once again Tira was in store for a new experience, as the Jalis began pounding on heavy drums and dancing a very old war dance. The deep rhythm was both stirring and fear inspiring. The dancers let out well timed war cries as they stomped their feet and slapped their thighs to beating of the drum. Tira had heard a little of the Jalis people in the Shadowlands, but watching their dance made her understand why they were known to be such a proud and strong race.

When the Jalis concluded their war dance, the round of applause was made a great deal louder by the many Jalis in the audience who were familiar with the dance. Their applause sounded much like the war cries of dance. They stepped down, but instead of bringing the band up to play again, a woman stepped onto the stage. A large man behind her carried a harp, while she carried her own stool. Setting both down on center stage, the man departed, and the woman seated herself beside the harp.

Tira squinted a little, trying to get a better look at the woman, who was strangely familiar. Oh! It's Hellena.
She looked stunning. She had changed out of the red gown from the Shadowlands, and was now wearing a dress of silver, beaded down the front in several places, with the fabric flowing down around her ankles. The sleeves were long, but did not cover her shoulders, and a large, elaborate necklace hung around her neck, with a blue stone resting just below the nape of her neck. Her long silver hair was tied back loosely and braided, and she smiled around at the audience before positioning herself to play.

Tira had known Hellena briefly before they were both placed into mental slavery. They had become moderate friends, and Tira was glad to see her looking so happy.
It appeared that the audience had heard her before, because she seemed to have a stage name. 'Syren', they called her.
It seemed to Tira that Hellena's fingers danced along the strings in patterns beautiful as the music she made. She played a short introduction before bringing her own voice into her tune. The song was sung in a language Tira didn't understand, but it felt ancient and powerful to her. The melody seemed to flow out of her as she played its tune, as though she were meant to sing it. It was riveting and hypnotizing in such a way that nothing else seemed to exist but the harp and Syren. Although at the time Tira was too wrapped up in the song to notice, very few people in all the gardens had their eyes away from the stage.

Tira was also admiring the way Hellena looked up there. She couldn't help thinking about how beautiful she was, especially her hair. Tira ran a hand over her own shaved scalp. Her head had been shaved right after birth and on a daily basis professionally thereafter. She suddenly found herself wondering what colour her own hair was. Surely not this fine silver that Hellena was graced with, but all the same, it would be nice to know.

The song became slower after two verses, and almost seemed to stop, but just before it did, the band, unnoticed until now, joined in. The strength of the harmony was so powerful it moved some people in the audience to tears. It was a song that had not been heard in Deltora for many, many years. Majority of the children in the vast audience had never heard this ancient music of the old lore. Tira was among them, and it was a moment in time which would stay with her all her life. As the song approached the finale, all the instruments in the band played more strongly than ever, before some of them stopped altogether and let the others wind the tune down. More and more instruments halted their playing, until only Hellena and her harp were left to conclude the musical enchantment over the people of Deltora. When she did, the applause was deafening. Tira was no less moved by the song as anyone, and even she attempted to show her appreciation. Hellena stood up, smiling serenely, bowed, and left the stage. The large man who had brought the harp on stage returned to retrieve it as the band started up again and the powerful atmosphere dispersed.

*******

A/n: Not the most exciting chapter I'll admit, but I'm making a build up here. Now to the reviewers. I want thank very much everyone who reviewed. The question I seem to be getting asked the most is what I'm doing in the romance department. I'd like to make a couple of things known here.
To Pen2, I am NOT going to turn this into Mars, I promise you. In fact, (and to Zela especially) this is not a romance fiction. There may be elements of it in various pairings at some point, but the focus will not be on who Tira ends up with.
But to everybody, thanks a million. I love reviews. By the way, I've just re-posted chapter 3, so the last paragraph shouldn't sound quite as tacky anymore.