At six in the morning, nearly all of Chaldea remained in peaceful slumber. Slightly dimmer hallway lights and silent corridors were the usual. Servants and employees alike lay in dreaming bliss in preparation for the next day. Occasionally, a patrolling robot would float around in their endless search for the devious and stealthy piece of litter or an uncleaned spot. On an even rarer chance, an early bird employee or one of the supervisors would be walking towards their workplace for a head start on a long day.

Nighttime darkness hugged Chaldea from the outside, with only a few illuminated snowflakes passing by the windows. Within two hours, it would slowly give way to the diffused light of a cloudy morning. Whether it was a snowstorm or a light flurry, it was always the same, moody scene. Though an expected sight, there were different ways to interpret it depending on one's own emotional state. Regardless of what they chose, it would remain another reminder of the world's state.

Which was why Fantasia Resort was more than a humble blessing.

Within the impressively designed dome, the skies were already turning a hue of twilight blue. Preset to a land far flung from Chaldea's real locale, the sun would be rising within the hour to present its full glory of an exotic red. Until then, the dance and cries of light waves against the sandy beach stole those present and brought them to paradise, far away from the stressful troubles that plagued the world. As wave after wave lapped the shore, the trees blew in the gentle breeze while the sky turned lighter.

The silhouettes of three resting individuals could be seen near Tropicana sector, where the beach slowly turned into the verdant forest. The trio of servants, dressed in different manner of workout attire, were in a new early morning, private class. Identifiable even from the large rocks that forged the shore for the lush woodland, they took a tiny break with three practice lances made into a pile at their feet. They glanced to the lone individual as he appeared on one of the bigger boulders two hundred meters away and waved to him.

With a small smile, that he knew they couldn't see, Mozart waved back to the three girls. He was already dressed in the purple cutaway and white pants of his variation of Salon uniform to save time for his morning routine. Gently, he laid a tiny green blanket onto a flat part of the rock before resting his viola's case upon it. With a gentle smile, he glanced briefly at the turning sky before returning his attention to the case. He popped open the latches and withdrew his instrument.

As he plucked each string gently, he listened to ensure it was tuned. Necessary adjustments were a rarity, though he still tweaked it slightly to meet the absolute perfect placement. Ensuring it was in the condition he wished, he picked up the bow and gently shut the case. With a few small strokes, he played soft notes for only his ears, though the three girls could still likely hear it with their enhanced senses. Content with the changes, he simply waited and watched the sky with a smile.

Time passed in content peace as the sound of waves tickled his hearing, until the moment finally arrived.

There were many ways to wake oneself for the day ahead. For some there was coffee, whose taste and ingredients would charge their batteries for hours of necessary energy. Others burned energy to ignite their inner fires, using workouts to fuel their early morning burst. Most servants merely woke up and went about their day, since sleeping wasn't a spiritual requirement, but a considerate decision to save magical energy with so many present; It also never hurt to feel human again.

For a select few, like Mozart, there was only one form of coffee. As the clouds began to turn pink from the sun's approach, the caster let him and his instrument drink the music of life.

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Fragment 43: The Sweet Melody of Life

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

A lone candle flickered within the dim room on a frigid Vienna night. Winter winds clattered against the window, threatening to throw the latch and strangle those inside with its icy embrace. The window held firm. Shadows masked a bookshelf, the only furniture besides an ornate desk and chair within the cramped room. Countless strewn parchment covered the wooden floor, with some crumpled into balls. It was clear the man at the desk didn't seem to care about the state of his room.

Hunched over the desk with a quill pen in hand, Mozart kept writing yet another version of his letter. With his coat discarded elsewhere, he wore only his white breeches and linen shirt. A finely woven wool blanket surrounded him, keeping him warm even as an occasional cough slipped past his lips. It would be echoed by coughing from a child downstairs. With weary, sunken eyes and an unsteady hand, he continued to write as elegantly as he could. He was already faring poorly enough by his writing's tone, so his penmanship should at least be par.

…In a week or fortnight I shall be better off -certainly- but at present I am in want!
Can you not help me out with a trifle?...

With a sigh, he read over the lines he just penned. This was not like him, yet it was what he had become. His self-respect had eroded like slack dirt against a monsoon. Never in his early years did he ever think it would reach this point, and he would not wish this fate upon his greatest enemy. Yet here he was, and the musician was desperate to try and fix at least some part of his crumbling life. If he could help anyone, it was his ailing wife and child who deserved far better than this.

Tragically, Mozart was more familiar with this desk than his wife and child these past moons.

Years of prodigious musical achievement should have brought him a happy life, but it was the music itself that tore the balance. It granted him both misery and renown, with the happiness granted but fleeting moments to distract from the ever encroaching state of affairs. The war was not helping his finances, nor was his occasional lapse in creative drive. The depression from the increasing distance to his friends and family only added to the weight. As he put the pen down and read his latest attempt at a request, he sighed, far too drained to care any longer.

This letter would be sent to Puchberg in the morning.

After folding the paper and placing it gently to the side, he eyed the stack of mail newly delivered by the courier. Eyes narrowed as he looked at the topmost letter once more. As if devoting himself to music hadn't been damning enough to his social life, he had dipped his hand into the other family practice he discovered many years ago. Between his illustrious music career and this personal secret, they were the twin tickets that drove him into this corner. In this recent year, he was finally facing the music he had written with his own two hands, and there was no avoiding it.

It was yet another funding reimbursement demand from the Clock Tower.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ III ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Inch by inch, the sun crested the horizon in its red glory. The perfectly simulated star gently rose as Mozart's bow happily sailed across the Viola's strings. With intricate movements from the master musician, the complimenting song that emanated from his instrument filled the air. Ambience of the moving, crystal waters combined with the song to lift his spirits. Note for note, the song charged his soul in a way only the dance of music could.

Even the trio of servants, who he saw for the first time this early, had remained at rest to enjoy the spectacle.

Music had filled the composer's life and defined his very being; There was never a doubt about that. Life as a prodigy had been filled with the masterpieces of his work, and it had given him some fond memories. The grand tour of the Mozart family and performing for many noble families were some of the many prestigious mentions of his life. However, his life was not as grand as many saw it to be. Since many remained entranced as his fingers danced across the piano or penned a new piece, they had failed to see behind the mask of audible perfection.

As his music danced with the rising sun, he was content to know his new life was not fitting for a requiem, but maybe a serenade.

Mozart was now proud that he had curiously, and impulsively, waded into magecraft. Though just a chance hobby compared to his true fame and mastery, it may have been the feather to tip the scale. To his surprise arriving in France during that singularity, he had been recorded in the Throne of Heroes as a potential caster. His music had combined with what little magecraft he knew to form a unique blend, though still weak in comparison to most servants. Now in Chaldea, his art had become his weapon for the sake of humanity.

However, he had learned the lessons from his past, and endeavored not to make the same mistakes again.

With a growing smile, he finally acknowledged the presence of the approaching servant without turning. He merely continued letting his heart sing across the strings of his Viola while light shuffling occurred. With the quiet close of a case, the new figure approached once more, but their footsteps were drowned by the prominent voice of another instrument. A violin joined to the viola's voice in the air, singing together in near perfect harmony for the composer. His eyes remained closed, opening slightly only to gaze briefly as the sun continued to rise above the horizon. It was nearly in full view as the other servant stopped beside him, at a comfortable distance to allow both to play unimpeded.

As his red collared shirt glowed a vibrant hue in the morning light, Tristan kept his legs squared in black formal pants as he manipulated his bow. Though there was still some refinement to do, Mozart could not blame the archer in the least. He was an eager and polite student, and his previous background with the harp had given him a head start. The notes he played would have sounded divine to almost any other ear, but Mozart was musical perfection rivaled by a select few. He could note the many mistakes almost no one else could hear, but they were hardly damning.

If their continued waltz of sound was any indication, Tristan had Mozart's full approval.

With the sun now turning brighter, the moment of beauty has passed. Though the beach was now lit in the golden light of a newly risen sun, the hues of red and orange have disappeared. With their departure, Mozart and Tristan silently, and through pure instinct, brought their harmonious duet to a wonderful end. To the trio on the beach over two hundred meters away, it sounded pre-planned as they clapped and cheered for the two musicians. With bow strings and instruments gently at their sides, Mozart turned to his student and smiled.

"You get better every day, Sir Tristan. There was a dozen less mistakes in that spontaneous performance."

The small tinge of a smile graced the archer's face. "Yet three dozen more still mar my impromptu harmony, I am afraid. It-"

"Makes you sad," Mozart completed for him with a chuckle. He shook his head gently. "You should give yourself more credit. Now, come. Let us truly start our early morning lessons."

"As you wish, teacher," Tristan nodded with a small smile. "Will we be starting with an adagio?"

"Of course. Let us do the excerpt from Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet Overture before we practice our parts for tonight."

With simultaneous nods after raising their instruments, they began on Mozart's count. Though they were teacher and student, Mozart ensured it would not be just a professional relation. They were musicians, and thus colleagues regardless of skill difference, but he also wished to be friends. It was sometimes said music makes the world go round, but for Mozart, it had made his stop spinning. This would not be a mistake he made twice.

If it would do anything, it should make his and others' worlds turn vibrantly in unison.

Music was to be enjoyed, but so were close friends and family. Thanks in no small part to his lone tenure in Chaldea, he had been able to bring that to realization. His prodigious skill with the sounds of music would not impede on his relationships, but make them stronger. He had used his music to aid his allies, but also bring himself closer to others. Tristan was but another in a long line, and definitely not the last.

As their adagio continued to sing above the waves, Mozart smiled.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IV ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Breakfast at the salon was always quiet. Though working hours for Marie's personal staff didn't start until after breakfast, she kept the doors open for those who wished to enjoy breakfast in her lounge. The number dropped during weekends recently with the arrival of Fantasia Resort, where some would rather spend time eating in the new fresh air. Though the queen was often miffed less people spent time in her salon, it did make Chaldea feel far more spacious again on select days. Marie was also often spending time at the beach, so she never openly complained anyway.

She only did that with a select few, and Mozart was one of them.

They sat at a small booth alone since D'Eon, Sanson, and Gilles temporarily offered to help some other lounge guests. The two sabers were busy at the bar making courtesy drinks for the few present groups, such as the knitting quadra or Cleopatra and Caesar. Mozart didn't need to do any lounge playing yet, even if he had offered, and instead kept Marie company as she happily finished her scones. Her mood this morning was already bright, but if there's anything the caster loved to do, it was make her smile blinding.

"Jeanne and Joan were singing together!? C'est beau! Magnifique!"

Mozart chuckled gently as he sipped on his cup of tea. "That was before I stumbled upon them, I must relent."

"Then Joan performed her usual embarrassed and denying act?" Marie asked with a giggle. She attempted her own imitation of the alter, down to the facial expressions. "You heard nothing! I would never do such a thing! I would never be caught dead singing with the annoying holy woman!"

Mozart chuckled happily. "She actually did say the first two parts! Your impression could use more work though."

Marie puffed her cheeks at the tease. "Do you ever go one day without teasing me, Amadeus?"

"I regretfully admit you make it a bit easy sometimes," the caster offered with a small bow. If there was a second thing on his list of loves, it was teasing the queen. She pouted, and he chuckled, but smiled genuinely with another small bow. "Es tut mir leid, Marie."

"You better be sorry!" she huffed, but the hints of the smile were obvious on her lips. The twinkle in her eye didn't help.

Seconds passed before Marie burst into giggles and Mozart laughed. If there was any friendship Mozart cherished in Chaldea, it was the one with his dearest queen. Though he had no real obligation to listen, Mozart made a grand and permanent exception ever since he met her in real life. He was twenty-one, and she was seven, but she had a hold on him ever since that performance. Now they were both servants, and she had him in the palm of her hands willingly as a friend, confidant, and her prestigious lounge player.

Thankfully she hasn't had to catch him from falling again. While pleasant, it was also embarrassing.

Many songs were played for Marie, but she didn't know how many she unknowingly helped produce through inspiration. The brilliance of her smile and her laughter were as beautiful as some called his greatest works. It was all subjective, but he truly felt this way, especially since his music had been devoted to her ever since. He still didn't have the heart to tell her, and was merely content knowing those beautiful pieces managed to bring out the smile and giddiness that inspired them.

It was that very expression that was currently aimed at him. "I can't wait to see your new performance with Tristan and Jeanne for dinner! I'm sure the others will love it."

"I hope so, but we will do our best to ensure it. It will be two parts-"

"Non! No spoilers!" Marie quickly shushed him with a giggle. "I want it to be a surprise for me too!"

"As you wish, Queen Marie," Mozart smiled with a chuckle, while silently wondering how he lived for so long without hearing the music of her laugh.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ V ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Mozart extracted another music book from a cart during his small break period.

Though the library was at half-staff due to the early morning deployment, Medusa still let him in to browse through the music books that were obtained yesterday. Helena wasn't able to get to them due to her overbooked schedule yesterday, so most remained in the cart by the front desk. Mozart carefully moved books onto the front desk to sift further into the cart, while being extra careful not to ruin anything. It was rare new books were brought in by such a large amount, but the ruined archive they took them from was a treasure trove.

Most of the musical books were first given to him so he could read them in his room, which he did quickly. Many were on Music theory or history, but it was always a treat to learn more about fellow colleagues. A few would be actual collections containing more music, which were the real grails for the caster. Since the salon was inactive for the next two hours before dinner, he decided to spend it on any new books that had arrived. Winding up a temporary sorter was a trivial issue.

The door swung open, but he didn't turn to look. Instead, upon recognizing a faint static coming from a speaker, he groaned silently. "Woah. When did they steal you from the salon?"

"When did you have any interest in reading anything that's not game text?" Mozart shot back with an exasperated sigh.

Tyler, with the collar of his work uniform popped, only shrugged upon taking the hit. He didn't bother to turn down the headphones blasting music, but the only reason it was loud was because of his enhanced hearing. He replied with a blank expression. "I'm still an engineer, Mozart. I'm hardly terrible at it."

'Unlike your usual taste in music…' is what he wanted to mutter as the employee began walking away. That is, until he started recognizing instruments coming from the employee's headphones. It wasn't a booming beat like before, but what sounded like pure orchestral music. It baffled him. He turned to Tyler curiously while holding the latest book to be fished from the cart. Just at the edge of his peripherals, the employee stopped to look back with a quirked head.

"Uh. Something on my face or…?"

Mozart had an approving look, and any former negative thoughts had vanished. He knew Tyler listened to other genres, but this was... "What are you listening to?"

"An old album I like. I switched to it from trance because I know you hate whenever I play that horrendous noise that makes your ears bleed."

The caster blinked. "…that was surprisingly considerate of you."

"I never did answer your question though, did I? Failed that one question test," Tyler admitted with a small chuckle. "The guy is modern, so I don't know if you've heard of him or not. Thomas Bergersen? He's part of a group called Two Steps from Hell but this is his solo work. This song is called Promise."

"A peculiar band name, for sure, but the music is…" Mozart began as he carefully listened to it. Even though it was turned down, his ear can pick up music like no other. It was as loud and clear as if he were playing it himself with an orchestra. "It's… impressive. Very impressive. I like his modern work compared to others."

Tyler nodded awkwardly as Mozart continued to listen. Taking off the headphones, he offered them to the caster who cautiously took them. Upon turning down the volume, Tyler watched Mozart don the headphones. He chuckled at the peculiar sight of a famed classical composer wearing a knock-off copy of Beats headphones, but appeared happier he managed to break even ground with the caster since his fight with Delaqua.

Mozart's eyes were sparkling in inspiration.

This music that was playing in his ears was modern, and the centuries of musical development can be felt with every measure. Though he often discredited and frowned upon most modern music, his curiosity involving purpose-made film music opened a new door; Admittedly he never delved too deep into the background music until recently. Unlike select pop and classic rock, which was borderline acceptable to him, this spoke to his soul in a way he never expected from the twenty-first century. It told him of the efforts of some to keep the true passion of music alive and well.

Most importantly, it spoke to his soul that the orchestral music could continue to inspire and evolve perfectly through the years. Humanity must survive to make it happen.

With his faith restored, for the day, regarding modern man's musical taste, he turned to Tyler as the employee smiled back at him. "Great stuff, right?"

"Better than most music you've attempted to show me," Mozart admitted. They had many spontaneous discussions regarding music, and they usually never ended well. When Tyler first brought up his interest in orchestral, that had been his redeeming light. The fact the employee still loves that electronic music though would forever mar the musician's impression of him. "I honestly never suspected you to like instrumental pieces."

"Was it really so much of a leap from the Lindsey Sterling I pestered you to give a chance? She has some electronic beats in her work, but it's clearly the violin that holds the spotlight. You even liked it enough to challenge my little bet, at least," Tyler pointed out with a small smirk, making Mozart roll his eyes. "She's not so bad, right? It's just the century's interpreta- I mean, decade's I should say."

"You just want to hear me say I like a song with one of those electronic beats in the background… again."

The employee snickered. "Is that so bad too?"

Tyler had a point, and Mozart knew it. He had been curiously practicing three of the unusual songs from that artist. Eventually he asked Tristan and Jeanne to assist him regarding one, if only to answer Tyler's quiet challenge issued a month ago. Thankfully, he had not made any mention of it during their little bicker session during the Fight of the Century; The employee was at least considerate to others. His efforts to open the musician's eyes to modern music was also a pure and honest attempt, with no ill will intended.

It had worked to an extremely limited extent.

Mozart always dabbled with the various genres of his time period. He did the same with the newfound genres, but found most to be revolting in some manner. Most he had come to accept he wouldn't even perform, but these strange, select artists caught his attention. The modern orchestral work, independent artists, and others fascinated him. The possibility to blend the past with the future was possible, and even in a tasteful fashion… or at least, as tastefully as it could get.

"I do look forward to hearing your interpretation of it. She plays so well, and a friggin goddess of the violin with Taylor Davis, but she's not a legendary musician spirit," Tyler chuckled lightly.

Mozart chanced a small smile. "Just as long as you keep it secret until then, and acknowledge this is one of the very few exceptions."

"… You mean you don't want me to show you some LMFAO later?" The musician groaned incredulously as Tyler chuckled again.

It had taken him months to even consider this leniency with a background beat, but he would never budge for the electronic noise.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VI ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

It was effortless, even before he became a servant.

Mozart's fingers waltzed across the keys of the grand piano without the need to look. Knowing key placement was a basic skill, but doing it while reading sheet music was a feat that took time. Any regular musician would be able to master that with a little bit of focus and effort, so what he was doing was nothing spectacular. If there was another trained pianist in Chaldea, they would likely be able to perform his job in the salon nearly as well.

The difference was his prestige and flawless emphasis for every note.

Just by glancing at sheet music, Mozart could decipher its rhythm, mood, and feel. It translated instantly to the keys, recreating the piece exactly as it was designed, yet with special additions. Slightly more emphasis on one note, or a trill before another, adapted the piece as his own cover. Unless someone heard the song many times over, the changes could not be discerned by the ear; They fit that perfectly.

Most importantly, it was all done with only brief glances so he may admire the salon's atmosphere for himself.

"These new drinking glasses are fascinating," Gilles pondered out loud. Mozart looked towards the covered bar where his fellow staff worked.

Marie's employed saber duo were carefully taking glasses out of the boxed packaging. Like the accented, personalized uniforms the salon's servants wore, these glasses had a personality of their own. A rainbow of colors were taken out of each box, with different colored accents for each. Though the tops were colored, the bottoms were made from the clearest crystal glass in a diamond textured pattern. The recent find from yesterday's sortie were meant to replace some of the older, more mundane cups that the bar held; They were kept in storage since the late deployment returned just before dinner.

"Sanson's surgical precision strikes again," D'Eon chuckled as he carefully moved a tray of the glasses to the bar shelves. He began placing some as a showcase.

Gilles opened another box and picked up a small, corresponding square china. "He even found matching hors d'oeuvres plates."

"Our first ones were starting to see their age. Anything is better than those plain white ones."

"Sometimes simplicity is worthwhile by itself. The greatest existences could come from simple routes."

D'Eon paused, but soon chuckled upon noting the hidden meaning. "A valid point, but for our little queen, the shinier the better."

Mozart chuckled before glancing towards the kitchen door. Sanson pushed a small, unfortunately squeaky, dolly through with three more boxes. The assassin passed one of his usual, near stoic expressions to Mozart before tossing a small wave. With a nod, the caster returned the gesture as D'Eon walked over to help unload more of the new shipment. Judging by the barely noticeable tilt to his lips, the assassin was in a cheerier mood today.

It had taken Mozart a month of working with Sanson to decipher the man's facial expressions like musical notes. At first, he didn't even want to acknowledge the other servant, and was abrasively skeptical about why he seemed so vested in helping the queen he executed personally. He got along with the effeminate saber fine since the knight was gallant, but Sanson always seemed to have an ulterior motive with his constantly blank expression. After many weeks of genuinely helping, he had dropped his suspicion.

Like with D'Eon, he had been on friendly terms with Sanson ever since. It was no longer unusual or unnervingly stressful to have Marie's executioner within arm's length so often. He had also come to understand he was a rather stoic and emotionally controlled person, which lent itself well to his side medical profession; He was the salon's unofficial first responder because of his surgeon background. It was this newfound understanding after severely judging a servant that made it a little easier to accept the new saber among their group.

To be fair, they were all a tad wary and uncertain about Gilles, but he was genuinely determined to keep his sanity in check. The former general fit well ever since, and treated Marie with as much reverence as any of them. He held Jeanne higher, of course; For Gilles, no one was higher than the Saint of Orleans.

"Ah~! Oui oui, that's such a cute sweater~! Did you really make it for Whiskers?"

"Yeah! Jackie and I thought she might be a little chilly, so we made it for her, Auntie Marie!"

All of them turned to the windows, at the keel that brought their ship together in the first place. Marie was happily watching after Atalanta's children. They were seated cross legged on the soft carpet, letting the soft light illuminate them as Nursery Rhyme dressed Marie's newly gifted sphinx kitten. The celestial being rested in the soft hammock that was the caster's black princess dress. It played with one of her twin braids as she gently coaxed the pink sweater onto it.

"Hold still!" Nursery Rhyme giggled. She sighed playfully as it refused, then looked to her sister.

Jack was leaning towards them in her black turtleneck and jeans, already understanding the silent request. "I'll hold her legs."

Jack gently reached, gently holding the bottom legs of the kitten against the caster's lap to stop its flailing. Naturally, as a cat, its seemingly boneless body shifted to wrench itself from their grasp. With the sweater only partially over its golden headpiece, it ran about in a circle confused. Jack and Nursery Rhyme were stumbling over each other to get the slippery entity, making Marie giggle at the sight. It was only when her kitten climbed into her lap that she stopped her fit.

"Ah~! Girls~!" Marie cried out, but in absolute joy, as she burst into laughter upon being tackled. The kitten was trapped between the two girls and Marie, but kept squirming in place as the giggling children tried to hold it still. All the movement was striking all of the queen's ticklish spots on her stomach, making all of them laugh harder.

"We almost have it on, auntie!" Jack giggled as she held the soft kitten in place against the queen's stomach.

Nursery Rhyme was squeezing the sweater over its headpiece gently, careful not to hurt it or tear the fabic. "Just a bit more."

Mozart chuckled, along with the rest of the staff, upon seeing Marie wipe her eyes of the tears that formed from laughing too hard. After everything she's been through, especially the harsh accusations and scandals, seeing Marie openly enjoying her Chaldean life was like fine wine. If he were ever asked, Mozart would undeniably state the one who brought them together deserved this bliss. Gudao may have been the one to summon them, but it was the queen who gave them something more.

She gave her staff a working environment that felt like heaven.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Lunch had passed almost uneventfully for Mozart, who was now walking down a hallway.

He had received a request from Altera while on break to meet her at the auditorium. She had been rather vague and mysterious about the details, but she had at least admitted it required his well-respected musical critique. Since he was the best one in Chaldea to do so, he could hardly decline the flattering notion. He was also a little curious if that recent memorial essence Altera received had anything to do with a secret penchant for musical instruments. It was an amusing thought at least.

As he passed a robot and a trio of Rayshift employees, the doors came into sight along with the waiting saber. She turned to him with a pleasant smile, one she was wearing far more often the past few days. She wore a flattering white sundress with her short hair in a bun, and had her hands folded in front of her politely. It was very unusual to see the often serious, and somewhat stoic, Altera in such a strange, vibrant mood. The change was wonderful, if a tad abrupt.

"Mozart, thank you for coming," Altera greeted with a small twinkle in her eye. "Please, come in."

"Why thank you," Mozart bowed slightly as she opened the door for him. His gentleman side was a touch miffed he wasn't the one holding the door open for her, but Altera wasn't an easy argument to win. Her disarming smile helped her case.

Mozart quietly walked inside to note the lights were still off, but there were several servant presences in the room. Though he wasn't expecting some others, it was the lights that made him slightly wary. Altera, who quickly shut the door behind them and gently ushered him down the main aisle, only made him more concerned. He let himself gulp as they approached two servants as the guide lights along the aisles illuminated.

The first thing he noted were the silhouettes before the servants' identities clicked in an instant. Vlad was standing in the aisle, regal as ever, with a glass of wine in his hands and covered with an elegant, black robe. He recognized the orange mop of hair that belonged to Robin, but he only kept facing forward in his seat across the aisle from Vlad. The collar of his green formal shirt was the only other piece that could be seen in his slouched state.

The tall berserker nodded to him with a blank expression. "Mozart. How kind of you to join us."

Slowly, Robin turned around in his seat, unnerving Mozart almost as much as Altera's hopeful smile. If sympathetic despair could have a facial expression, Robin was perfectly defining it. "I'm so sorry…"

Mozart's expression faltered as his mind raced. Robin was in a defeated state. Vlad's expression was unusually blank and wary. Altera's still present smile was far more than he had ever received from her without Nero being present. With those three in mind, plus the familiar silhouettes of the Roman servants in the front row, that could only mean…

"Oh no…" Mozart muttered to himself quietly. Altera only giggled, which would have stunned him, had the lights not flared on the stage.

"Everyone's here~!" the newly revealed duo cried out together. The caster felt his knees grow weak for the wrong reasons.

On stage was his nightmare concert, which consisted of Nero and Elizabeth. It could be argued the matching idol dresses were wearing them, but that was a separate matter. The spotlights made their glittery pink outfits shine like stars, which would probably be the opposite of their 'singing.' Tube tops with a red heart in the center, coupled with a matching sequin pencil skirts and thigh-high boots. Their white opera gloved hands held a shared microphone between them, even if it was on a stand. A red flower on the sides of their head was the coup de gras.

"Umu~! It is good to have you here to critique our first performance together, Mozart!" Nero boasted happily, earning a round of applause from the Romans in the front row and the saber beside the caster. "Altera, my beloved little sister! Thank you for bringing Mozart here!"

"You're welcome, Nero!" Mozart blinked. Sure, he wasn't privy or invasive for other servants' personal lives, but when, and why, did Nero become her big sister? Did that mem-

"Now then, do any of our fans have any questions before we start?" Elizabeth asked after placing her hands akimbo with a bright smile.

"How much did you have to bribe the Clothing Department to make those costumes?" Mozart asked, making Robin chuckle.

Nero only stood smugger. "It cost us nothing, as it should! A gift to the Empress and Countess! Liz's uncle Vlad gladly got them and did the beautiful modifications himself!"

"I regretfully can't say no to my niece…" Vlad sighed in a composed manner. Mozart shot him an understanding and sympathetic look.

"If no one has anything else to say, let's get this concert started~! UMU~!" Nero shouted happily with a bright grin, earning hoots and praise from the Romans. Altera was smiling happily while clapping. "Yes~! Just like that! Do not feel ashamed to hold back your praise! You will be giving a lot of it! Umu~!"

"We're going to make you proud, producer~!" Elizabth winked and pointed towards Robin with a bright smile.

"I'm too sober for this…" Robin grumbled in his seat as he slipped further down.

The intro music started, and already it was making Mozart brace for impact. In his time, he had played a lot of different genres in experimentation and understanding. The amount that was present in modern times was astounding, though some he would not dare to call music. As a large main genre, pop was far more acceptable to him than any of that rubbish techno or rap… so long as these two weren't attempting it. Yet, here he was, trapped, with both of the hellish, singing and shamelessly grinning nightmares about to sing for them at the same time.

He recalled those nights behind that lonesome desk as he drowned in debt and depression. That was bliss compared to the noise he was about to listen to.

It couldn't get any-

~~Yume wo otte mayoikonda~~
~~Kokoro no mori no oku~~

It actually got worse.

His mouth fell open in unmitigated horror at how absolutely terrible their Japanese pronunciation was, even with granted Grail knowledge.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VIII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

D'Eon was trying to hold back a snicker, and failing. Marie was not fairing much better. "So… how did the critique go, Amadeus?"

"This day can only get brighter from there…" Mozart grumbled as he took a seat at the piano. As he sighed, Sanson walked over with a silver waiter tray, tea set, and accompanying table. He quickly erected it within arm's reach of his stool. Gilled brought a third and fourth chair for the group to set up around the tray table. Marie and D'Eon, already sitting on their own, thanked Sanson as he handed out their newly poured cups.

"You've seen the depths of the ninth circle and lived. Would you like me to get some champagne for your achievement?" Sanson asked with a small twitch at his lips.

Mozart chuckled at his attempt at a joke, and simply took the cup and saucer handed to him. "I will pass, for now. Perhaps at dinner after the performance."

"I'm very curious what you've chosen to play," D'Eon admitted after taking a sip from his cup. "The last few days have been uplifting vivaces. I don't suppose tonight will be somber?"

"Oh heavens, I hope not," Marie added before sipping on her own tea. "I hope you're not plucking our heart strings with your viola, Amadeus."

"Nothing more than I have to, but you must wait and find out," the caster added calmly with a small smile. "With that spoken, shall we move to a different topic?"

D'Eon, ever the proficient spy, had gossip news at the ready for the queen's delight. "My queen. Did you hear Tamamo and Kiyohime are now taking polearm lessons from Brynhildr?"

Marie made a light gasp of excitement. "Non~! I thought they were just teasing about learning the weapon!"

"Is that why last night's dinner was shish kebabs?" Gilles asked with an amused expression, causing Marie to giggle.

"It could be! Speak more, my faithful spy!" Marie asked eagerly, ever curious as to the development of Chaldea's own community.

As the effeminate saber began recounting what he knew, Mozart gently placed his cup and saucer on the nearby tray table. French tea time was a daily occurrence that could never be broken as a cardinal rule so long as all of them were present. Whether or not other servants wished to join was up to them. Usually everyone else had their own business, especially when considering it was done during Rayshift deployment hours. Rarely was it more than their number, as many preferred to sit separately and they wouldn't personally be conversing at the piano.

Today it was just them for tea time due to a slightly larger supply run. When it was only them, or a few, that always meant gossip time for Marie. The caster thought back to the trio training on the beach early in the morning to confirm the saber's statement, but he merely kept silent to let him finish. Mutual respect and a cordial atmosphere were paramount during Marie's tea time, and that was something that could not be jeopardized.

"Did anyone else here of this?" Marie asked eagerly as she quickly turned to face many of her staff members.

That was the cue. "I saw it myself only this morning. They stopped to listen to Tristan and I play as the sun rose."

"So they're trying to do it in the morning at the beach so no one will find out…" Marie noted happily. One could see the gears turning in her eyes. "Their own bonding session? They've been getting along well with Brynhildr since she started taking Pari's medicine. Are they learning pole arms for defense? Caster training?"

Mozart chuckled at Marie's nickname for Paracelsus, which she never stated to him. Gilles sipped his tea before putting it down. His hand shook for a moment and he closed his eyes, causing the group to turn to him. The queen look concerned as the saber fought off what appeared to be another whispers incident. With a small sigh, he smiled in reassurance and nodded to them. Marie breathed in relief as Sanson nodded back slowly.

"I apologize… As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted by myself," Gilles explained before clearing his throat gently. He smiled a bit wider upon hearing the chuckles. "There is often no greater way to form a bond than by fighting with or alongside someone. I believe that is the reason."

"Or perhaps worse," Sanson began in a low tone. His usually stoic face turned a shade uncomfortable, and maybe even wary. "They were developing a new castration fist move last week in the gymnasium, if I'm not mistaken. Fionn and Diarmuid had been pretty shaken by that sight."

The males all shifted uncomfortably as Marie giggled. "I see… Shall we move to the next topic, mes amies?"

It was a rhetorical question with a unanimous agreement. Marie giggled louder. "Oui! D'Eon, my wonderful spy, have you heard any more details about Medb hiding in Cu's closet in her underwear? I'm still dying to know more after Okita kept grumbling about the harassment paperwork! Oui! I must know more!"

Time passed almost as fast as topics during tea time.

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Club Cove and its boardwalk out-front were bustling with activity only thirty minutes before the pre-dinner performance. Those currently present were dressed for the casual evening as the sun neared the horizon, sending streams of golden light through the open-air windows. Drake and Fergus' laughter could be heard near the bar, coupled with Shuten and Jing Ke's own soon after; Robin had likely just arrived through the crowd, and was not living down his afternoon event.

With a sympathetic sigh, the caster pushed out the ambience to make a habitual check of his Viola. A gentle breeze blew past Mozart, who now wore a pure white suit and plucked at the perfectly tuned strings. Tristan sat across from him in their temporary booth, checking his own violin in an exact, matching three piece they wore while performing as a trio. With the breeze circulating the room, the formal wear was fairly comfortable, not that their minds were even lurking on the thoughts.

Between talking with Shakespeare about his play's music and pondering if he should play privately under the full moon, there were plenty of thoughts casually circulating through his unstressed mind. Thankfully, there were no negative thoughts since today had turned out rather balanced, which was a pleasant surprise. The duet would go flawlessly, which would serve as the final brick to balance the scales against that cringeworthy concert earlier. If he did play later tonight, it should push it towards the positive side.

Tristan's head shifted silently towards approaching footsteps, causing Mozart to break his light concentration as well. Marie approached them, smiling as always, but Mozart could pick out the difference. Thanks to the small twitch at the side, the occasional darting of her eyes to the boardwalk, and the fidgeting fingers at the hem of her skirt, it was obvious. His smile faded slightly while Marie kept her own, hiding both hands behind her back.

"Bonjour you two~!" Marie giggled as she curtsied. "I'm glad you arrived an hour early from the singularity! Was it bothersome, Tristan?"

The archer nodded quietly. "You would be correct, Madam. There were only two servants, but one was ransacking a village in ruthlessly efficient hit and run raids. Typical Viking berserker…"

"That is what they're known for…" Marie added softly as she fidgeted on her feet. She shot another quick glance at the boardwalk.

Mozart wasn't going to let this slide under the table if it was this obvious. "Marie. What is upsetting you so much?"

"I…" She began hesitantly. She glanced to Tristan, but he also seemed genuinely interested. The number of other servants and employees glancing towards the boardwalk was also increasing. Mozart knew they'd find one way or another, but her smile finally dropped. "…It's Gabby and Serenity."

That clearly only meant one thing. It was practically obvious to the vast majority of Chaldea that Serenity had become rather attached to the female magus. Though she had a fleeting crush on Gudao in the singularity as well, it had been eclipsed by her initial savior's continued actions. Any news regarding it was usually hushed, and almost always the same platter with nothing new. For it to finally be making waves with this kind of response meant-

Tristan shook his head in pity. "How sad… Is she taking it well?"

Marie sighed and gazed towards the boardwalk. "Neither of them are. They're both crying. It's a terrible sight…"

Mozart quietly sighed as Tristan and Marie quietly discussed. His mind thought about the new development, sad that they'd likely be in too poor of a mood to enjoy tonight's performance. It was disheartening when a personal event would inhibit their ability to enjoy the sounds of music. While tonight's performance was not somber, it wasn't uplifting enough to possibly cheer- 'That's it.'

The queen fiddled with her fingers. "I really want to go up and help, but it's their personal busi-"

"Tristan." After carefully plucking his viola from the table, and shooting a small glance and nod towards the archer, Mozart stood up from the booth. "Can you find Jeanne for us?"

He looked perplexed at first, but nodded anyway. "Certainly."

Marie looked at him confused. "Bellisimo, as the Romans would say. Please meet me out front on the boardwalk with your violin."

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His talk with Tyler was quick and smooth, and he was more than ecstatic to help; At least they got along decently when his musical taste wasn't involved. With that done, he calmly and quietly walked through the slowly gathering crowd at boardwalk exit, quietly asking for others to move so he may pass. Marie was trying to regain his attention, but he simply ignored her for once. It was hard to do so, but it was only momentarily. As he cleared the crowd and scanned the area for the two, Marie pushed through to seize hold of his arm.

"Mozart! While I find it charming and lovely you wish to help, we shouldn't get involved! This is their personal affair, not ours!"

"I'm not getting involved, Marie," he answered calmly as he spotted both of them on a bench over a hundred meters away.

They were buried in each other's arms, but the tears streaming down Gabrielle's cheeks and the heartbroken frown told the story. Serenity's hands covered her face as her body racked with sobs, making her vibrant blue strapless seem dim. Gabrielle only tightened her embrace as tears wet the strap of her white one-shoulder. Rena was on the ground at their feet, looking between them helplessly with drooping eye-holding arms. He felt terrible they were so relatively close, since he doubted either of them expected an attention-grabbing outcome like this; As if they cared about anything else at the moment.

"… This won't do. Seeing audience members unhappy before a performance is dreadful." Not only that, he didn't like the idea of some watching the ordeal in secret.

Marie stomped her foot impatiently with an accompanying glare. "Hey! Are you listening to me!?"

"I'm not doing anything, Marie. I just wished to move the venue to the beach. Right, Tristan?"

"Of course, teacher," the archer responded as he appeared at Marie's side with violin in hand. "Jeanne will be with us shortly."

"You two! You-" Marie's voice caught in her throat as the two quietly walked towards the beach instead. The nearest stairs were at the halfway point between the club and the crying duo, yet they walked calmly.

Marie held her breath, and looked seconds away from pouncing at the offending servants, before she noticed them purposefully not making eye contact with the grieving pair; As if anyone could tell if Tristan did. Mozart merely led them to the stairs, making the two quickly wipe their tears as they approached. Only a small nod and quiet apology was mouthed by the musicians as they walked down the stairs, staying true to their word. Marie exhaled in relief, while more tears fell down Serenity's face.

"I'm really sorry, Serenity…" Gabrielle whispered again, loud enough that Mozart clearly heard. A new tear raced down her cheek. "I'm terrible. I made you cry, but I-I can't be with you… Please understand. I'm s-so sorry…"

"You're not terrible…" Serenity replied back while crying into her hands. "I-I'll be fine… J-Just give me t-time."

"I'm s-sorry…"

Mozart and Tristan stood on the beach, staring towards the ocean as the sun approached. Mozart quietly tuned out their private conversation while using a spell to prepare the sand around them into a suitable platform. They couldn't do anything to cheer them up with words, not that Mozart was actually decent at that. He could only make others feel better in conversation if they already felt spectacular. However, there was always another way if one looked hard enough.

They just needed their third member, who was now approaching.

Jeanne, wearing a sparkling white dress, walked up to them carefully from the beach staircase. She was walking barefoot, with her heels in her hands to avoid extra sand. The males' shoes likely had sand now, but it was a quick fix with some light wind magecraft. Even with that possibility, she didn't look too pleased about the idea of possibly getting sand on her formal dress, but it only showed in her cautious gaze at the ground; The dress wasn't long enough to drag.

"Mozart? Are we doing a bit of practice?" Jeanne asked as she took a glance at her sobbing master and allied servant.

"Exactly that, Jeanne. Think of this as only practice. This song is not yet… ready, of course."

The Maid of Orleans looked genuinely surprised. "We're practicing Electric Daisy Violin? What about the crowd?"

"They get a rare treat, and we get to see how unpolished it actually looks," the archer replied with an amused expression. "The real purpose is to cheer up the pair, no?"

Jeanne tossed a quick glance to the two on the bench before softly smiling and nodding. "I hope this works."

"I as well. Now…" Mozart began with a small smile as he turned to his student. The archer looked back curiously, and raised his violin as Mozart lifted his Viola. They were only fifty meters away from the boardwalk, which was more than adequate distance. "We begin when Tyler starts the beat."

"Mozart playing a song with an electronic beat. Mayhaps that be the real drawing point?" Tristan asked as Jeanne giggled. The archer raised his instrument and took his spot to one side of Jeanne, and Mozart to the other. The singer stayed in place, with the setting sun angled at their backs, but not directly.

"I will accept only this one and only a few others," Mozart replied with a confident smile as he raised the bow to his violin. A few curious bystanders in the crowd turned from secretly spying on the pair to the musical trio on the beach. "Any moment now… unless he wishes to try my patience-"

As soon as he finished that word, the familiar beat of light techno flew from the speakers. Too much of it bothered Mozart, but this steady beat acted more like a metronome as Tyler put it. When described like that, it was acceptable, but he would rather have the habitual chime in his head rather than an audible one. However, it fit with the music far better than he would ever admit beyond playing alongside it. He hoped the employees would enjoy this modern acknowledgement.

Upon hitting the right cue, Mozart channeled magical energy into one of his unique spells. As he started playing, the sound was amplified, carrying the dance of his strings to exceed the volume of the many speakers; They were the focus, not that electronic beat. As Tristan's violin also began to sing, the proximity to Mozart allowed it to share in its amplified bliss. Soon the two instruments were dancing as one with the light beat, taking the attention away from it to the melody they played.

The crowd was now growing, and they had the distraught pair's full attention.

Jeanne, upon placing her shoes down on the sand, lightly swayed with the beat and the melody. A soft smile radiated her golden-lit face as the sun neared the horizon. Mozart and Tristan began precision movements to the beat while keeping their instruments playing. As their dance circled Jeanne, creating an intricately mirrored pattern, she closed her eyes and smiled happily as she moved in her own, practiced movements.

Keeping a comfortable distance, the males circled, swapped places, and performed other intricate maneuvers with ease as they played. Soon, at key moments, Jeanne's voice joined in without lyrics to be amplified with Mozart's spell. She hit every note angelically as their combined melody danced in the wind. Measure for measure, their sounds synced perfectly to the listeners, since they admittedly spent three weeks practicing it in the secluded Tropicana sector at night.

Their efforts were showing, as the crowd gathered on the railing of the boardwalk in excitement at the additional show. Gabrielle and Serenity had stopped crying, and instead stood beside each other at the railing in awe as their dance continued. Though their eyes were still red, Gabrielle's tapping foot and Serenity's tiny smile were the first signs of the blossoms they sought. With that in mind, Mozart closed his eyes to activate his next spells, which were useless in combat.

That didn't matter to him. He was a musician, and there was no better battle for him than the one involving the arts.

Quietly whispering his activating arias, the wind picked up around the performing trio as they hit the first chorus, though the prepared sand did not lift. It sifted with them while they moved in a mesmerizing pattern as a visual whirlwind of prana danced around their performing area. It enveloped them in a surrounding wall of rainbow color, shifting in tint and value with every shift in melody. As it moved perfectly in tandem with the performance, visualized musical notes began to fill the curtain of prana, and the air just above their heads. Soon other shapes and forms joined in, forming a colorful play in the air as the music sailed across the sandy beach.

It shifted constantly like their dancing, creating a visual performance that matched the uplifting music that drowned the air in bliss. Though the visual spell could do nothing against enemies, it could inspire and subtly influence the positive emotions of those witnessing. Even if it was useless in practically any combat situation, it found a pleasant and welcome home with the musician. To a performing artist, the smile of admiration was one of the greatest trophies.

Since Gabrielle and Serenity were wearing them, along with a bouncing Rena, he believed, Mozart knew he succeeded.

Still, their song, which Tyler had bet Mozart would never play, continued to dazzle the completed audience. Everyone attending dinner had filed onto the boardwalk to witness the trio's spectacle. With every smiling face, and even tapping foot, he witnessed, Mozart grew more fulfilled. This was what he lived and performed for, but it no longer controlled him. Just like he was doing now, he danced with it perfectly, to let music fill his life.

With a final pull of their bows, the song came to an end, leaving the trio finished in a final pose. Jeanne had her hands clasped together where she stood, with the two musicians at her side, facing to opposite flanks with their eyes closed. They opened their eyes and smiled after a flash of light flew from Mashu's camera. With light laughter, they quietly bowed to the audience as they let a different music fill their ears.

The applause was absolutely deafening, and it was for a performance the trio deemed incomplete. They had made a few mistakes, but it was clearly unnoticeable by the clapping audience. Jeanne giggled happily as she covered one hand with one of her gloved hands. "I think that went well, no?"

"I've never heard them cheer so loudly for us," Tristan chuckled with a rare, easily discernible smile.

"Yes. It went very well," Mozart agreed as he glanced towards the female master, who was now joined by the acting director, her best friend, and the shielder. She gave a very tiny smile to Serenity as they clapped, before they fell into distracting chatter about the performance. Even if there would likely be lingering disappointment and sadness tonight, and a possible resurgence, his impromptu show had succeeded in cheering them up if only momentarily. Though the visual addition was supposed to be debuted with their real pre-dinner song, this confirmed all he needed to know.

There was no doubt he needed to do it more often as he bowed once more and raised his voice happily. "I promise all of you, the real performance is just as breathtaking!"

Mozart had a feeling the trio's little sunset waltz would become an occasional, prestigious performance for dinner at Club Cove.

'I need to find more performance songs for our repertoire...'