Authors Note: Sorry about the massive delays. Life has been quite hectic, but it should be slowing down soon. So no promises, but I think I'll be able to start write these chapters a little faster.
Chapter 15: A Royal Pain
Musa eyed the holographic representation that stood on the end table. At times like these, she could almost feel her mother sitting beside her on the bed, listening to her woes and concerns.
"So, a big concert is coming up," the black-haired musician said to the image. "Part of the exhibition. We will play after the schools have demonstrated their main specialities. Like magic and fighting and stuff. Then it's the more hobby oriented courses turn". She paused for a bit. "I have a solo piece. It worries me. Oh, sure, I've played in bands before. Heck, I even have a part as a saxophonist in one of the other numbers. I can handle that just fine. But the solo piece... I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm really nervous". She turned to face the image. "Was it ever like this for you, Mother? Fearing that you would fail on-stage, lose your nerve or have a completely stone-faced audience? I hear almost everyone has those moments. Then again, you were a natural. Maybe you never doubted yourself". She sighed. "Things are getting crazy around here. We have to worry about so much. At least Darkar and the bitch trio, sorry for the language, Mother, have stayed put for a while. But for how long? Enough to drive me crazy with worry to be honest". She shook her head. "Nothing to do but to do it, I guess. Can't back out now. Not that I want to, don't get me wrong. But every time I fear choking in the middle of the performance, well, it sure does become tempting. What else is there?" After a bit of mulling things over, she continued with: "Oh, and I'm starting to get closer to Aisha. Turns out there's an actual person buried underneath all those royal protocols. She's getting downright tolerable to be around. I wonder if it's the same way with... Nah, probably not," Musa added a bit sadly, shaking her head. "I guess I was a bit harsh on Aisha because... Well... I know what royals can be like. I guess Dad has rubbed off on me a bit on that point. But Aisha's okay. Ignorant, but she's willing to learn. That's something, right? Anyway, I won't take more of your time. I have practise later anyway". With those words, she folded the flower-esque object, turning off the hologram.
...
Icy was starting to wonder whether or not anything would be happening any time soon. She hadn't personally seen action since the attack on Red Fountain, but at least Darkar had made other moves. And then, about a month ago, he had suddenly stopped. Oh sure, if asked, he would respond that he was planning his next masterstroke. But he wasn't really doing anything except sitting on his throne and twiddling his fingers menacingly. Stormy had suggested that maybe the fairies had actually managed to scare him, which Icy didn't buy for a second. Darcy's suggestion that Darkar was waiting for something seemed much more likely. Mostly because the white-haired witch was genuinely unsure if Darkar could even feel fear. He certainly never showed any indication of being capable of such an emotion. So Icy had decided to show patience and wait for whatever it was her employer was waiting for. After what they had pulled off so far, she had faith that Darkar would execute another great plan. It did at times chafe at her ego that she had been relegated to playing second banana, but she couldn't exactly say that things weren't going as planned. And if Darcy would just stop cutting deals with their mortal enemies, she might even get the chance to finally get some payback for what they had done to her. Speaking of Darcy, unlike when she was in charge, Darkar's operations seemed to run quite smoothly. There was no need for constant adjustments and nobody had forced her to clean anything in months. She now had mooks to do that for her. It reminded her of when she still lived at home, with staff and servants. Not as much as they once had, but life had been comfortable. She had kinda missed that. Even when they ruled Cloud Tower, they still had to do a lot themselves. Like cook their own food. The darkness creatures were monsters made from despair and hatred, not culinary creativity. But now, after waiting for a couple months, she was starting to wonder. And she decided that for her loyalty, she deserved to know what he was waiting for. Part of her noted the irony of her high opinion of her own loyalty considering that she had admitted she would be willing to stab him in the back, but she was never one for prolonged introspection, and she quickly forgot the thought as she marched to Darkar's throne room.
And that's where she found Darkar, Darcy and Stormy going through a big pile of newspapers. "What's going on?" she asked as she entered the room.
"Ah, Icy, good to see you," Darkar greeted her. "My loyal mooks invaded a recycling station and stole two months' worth of different newspapers and magazines".
"Is this the thing you have been waiting for?" the white-haired witch asked.
"No, but I do like keeping myself informed," the Shadow Phoenix replied.
"We have been kinda cut off, what with the shoddy television reception and complete lack of postal service," Stormy noted. "Can barely even load the most basic of web pages down here".
"Once we conquer the surface, you can have all the web pages you want," Darkar assured her.
"Alright, so what's happening? More crazy sightings of Harvey Cooldown?" Icy asked as she picked up a newspaper. Her eyes opened wide as she made a strangled noise.
"You okay?" Darcy asked, putting down the magazine she was reading.
"WHAT! IS! THIS!?" the white-haired witch asked, shaking with barely contained fury.
Darcy looked over her shoulder and read: "Princess of Domino, Bloom Peterson, has been sighted on what looked like a date with heir to the Eraklian throne, Sky Herakles. What could a possible relationship between the two mean for their respective nations? Turn to page nine where we interview royalty expert Ravnica Skeeter on the subject".
"Great, another article about what could possibly be news in a year or two," Stormy commented.
"That's not the point," Icy hissed. "When did Bloom become a princess? Of Domino no less?"
"Given that she is princess by blood, I'd say she always has been," Darcy commented dryly. "But if you're asking when she figured it out, then sources say it happened during our reign. I'm not clear on the details, but it was revealed a couple of weeks after it was all over".
"You... You knew?" Icy asked, her voice somewhere between flabbergasted and angry.
"Yeah, but the personnel back at Lightrock forbade us from bringing up the subject," Darcy admitted with a shrug. "Seemed to think it might trigger some sort of setback. All I could really think was a setback from what? Far as I knew, you weren't progressing anywhere".
"GRAGH!" Icy roared as she threw the newspaper to the floor and stomped on it for good measure. "Unbelievable. Simply fucking unbelievable. I'm going to..." She stopped as she saw something. Slowly, almost as if afraid, she gingerly picked up another newspaper. With rising fury, she read: "At the revelation that the princess of Domino, Bloom Peterson, would be taking up the mantle of queen once she had received her education, several Dominian families, including the Amarillo, Mehteh and BIJOUX FAMILY, CONFIRMED THEIR CONTINUED LOYALTY AND ALLEGIANCE WITH THE ROYAL FAMILY AND SWORE TO SUPPORT HER ONCE SHE WAS READY TO LEAD!" Ice grew from her hands and began covering the paper as she started breathing rather heavily.
"Do you think setback is codeword for meltdown?" Stormy quietly asked Darcy.
"I'm starting to suspect that's the case," Darcy quietly responded.
"It's also ironic because she has ice powers," Darkar noted without any semblance of tact or subtlety. "See, it's quirks like these that make you three a great team of minions".
With a hateful scream, Icy shattered the newspaper while everything within a meter of her became instantaneously covered in a thick layer of frost.
...
"So, like, how's the exhibition planning going?" Stella asked as she and Brandon walked through the forested grounds of Red Fountain.
"Nice, if I say so myself," Brandon replied. "Me and the squad haven't gotten as big a role as last year though".
"Wanna avoid a repeat I imagine," Stella commented.
"Maybe. Still we get to show off the new dragonflamers," Brandon continued. When he saw Stella's confused look, he elaborated: "A prototype weapon that's supposed to spray large amounts of an alchemical substance called dragonflame. And yes, the naming convention does get confusing at times. Hopefully they'll rename it once it's out of the prototype phase".
"Isn't it just a really fancy flamethrower then?" Stella asked.
"Maybe, but dragonflame is both hotter and more fuel-efficient that your run of the mill flamethrower, plus it can be used underwater with barely any loss of efficiency," Brandon answered. "The problem so far has been that dragonflame melts through almost everything once ignited. All prior designs were discarded due to the flame melting the equipment".
"Aren't flamethrowers kinda creepy, as far as weapons go?" Stella asked. "I mean, like, imagine being burnt to death that way".
"Well, first of all, dragonflame will usually melt straight through a person, so it's much quicker than your regular type," Brandon explained. "Secondly, isn't that how Bloom deals with the nasties you've been up against?"
"I suppose you've got a point," Stella admitted. "Still, she, like, mostly seems to be using it to throw explosive fireballs".
"Probably because of the same issues flamethrowers have," the squire noted. "A stream of fire is very hard to throw any distance at all".
"And they're gonna let you guys handle them," Stella continued.
"Yep. Don't worry, we're all very responsible people," Brandon assured her. After a short break, he added: "When it comes to our weapons, anyway".
"If you hadn't said it, I tots would," the blonde princess commented. She briefly mused: "I do wonder if other couples ever have, like, inane and pointless conversations like these?"
"Actually I could imagine Timmy and Techna going off on some random tangent," Brandon added.
"So your saying we're becoming like them? A totally frightening thought," Stella said with an exaggerated shiver. "Anyway, Red Fountain seems to be tots bustling with activity".
"Yeah, people are already setting up shop, talking, organizing, you know, making sure it's going to be a nice event for everybody," Brandon continued.
"Hey, Goldilocks! Nice tits!" somebody yelled.
"Others are just here to see how provocative they can be before someone hurls them over the edge," Brandon continued conversationally.
"So I noticed," Stella said. "Twenty-five by the way".
"Dear, you need to go back to first class and learn math again," Brandon chided her. "You have only received twenty-four compliments today".
"No, you see, he complimented both of them," Stella corrected the squire.
Brandon stared at her for a moment, before exclaiming. "Oh, that is so not how this works".
...
Aisha sat at the sidelines, watching as a mixed group of students choreographed their dancing.
"I have been seeing you a lot around here recently," Flora noted as she sat down besides the princess, a cup of coffee in hand.
"I'm trying to learn a bit," Aisha said. "My parents gave me the impression that there was a proper way of things with music and dancing and that only a very limited variety of both were proper".
"And what do you think?" Flora asked.
"I'm starting to think that it's... A very... Narrow view," the brunette princess said, struggling to find the right words. "I've seen several forms of dancing, music, artistry and other such things in here. I don't like all of it, but it's a lot more varied than my parents seem to think".
"Music and such is a question of taste," Flora noted before taking a sip. "There is no such thing as correct music or dancing. Only what is correct for you".
"Yeah, that's the feeling I get too," Aisha continued. "Your girlfriend is good at dancing, by the way".
"Tell that to her, not me," Flora remarked.
"Oh, I wouldn't want to disturb her," Aisha continued.
"Then wait until she comes over here. I assure you she will be most happy to hear your praise," Flora said.
"Well, it's not like I have anywhere else to be," the princess of Tides noted. "Classes have geared down to allow us all to prepare for the upcoming event".
"Prepare or just relax depending on the student," Flora noted. "I myself belong in the latter category. I have very little to show off except my magical skills and there are much more qualified students on the school for that particular task".
"You could show off your survival skills," Aisha suggested.
"The exhibition is for showing off the schools and the extra classes that they offer," Flora explained. "And the survival training that are taught here do not resemble the way I have been taught it. It is much less intense, for one thing".
The music died down and Mirta made her way over to the others with a breathless but chirpy: "Hello, Aisha, Hi, Flora. Did we do well?"
"It was a most excellent performance, thought I admit that I was only here for the last half of it," Flora said.
"I thought it was great," Aisha said. "But you are going to dance during the exhibition, right?"
"Yes. We even get a live orchestra for it," the redhead confirmed.
"The one Musa will play in before her solo part," Flora added.
"It's just that I thought you were kinda... Shy I guess," Aisha said. "And you will be dancing in front of a lot of people".
"I do have mild stage fright, yes," Mirta confirmed. "Which is why I requested to be placed in the back of the group. Less focus and I probably won't be as self-conscious if I trip over myself".
"Is anyone else from our cluster going to be participating?" Aisha asked.
"I think Bloom got one of her sketches into the art gallery section," Flora replied. "But otherwise, no. Techna wanted to join the artificers, but her project is not exactly going smoothly".
"What happened?" Mirta asked.
"She made a miniature version of her wingpack, as she calls it," the brunette noble explained. "It jetted of and interrupted one of Avalon's classes by flying circles around his head. She is still not sure what it is that makes it do that".
"At least the poor man got to keep his clothes this time," Mirta noted sympathetically.
"Indeed. In that regard it is an improvement over the last model," Flora noted. "She is going to have Timmy take a look at its programming".
"Couldn't she just use her magic to make it stop?" Aisha asked. "I mean, her knack is technology after all".
"She told me that she had gone through the thing with her magic and found nothing wrong, so she did not know what to fix," Flora explained. "It would seem it gets its behaviour from some unintended side effect of its programming and Techna says that Timmy is much better at sussing out such errors".
"I hope she gets it fixed," Mirta noted. "Avalon really doesn't need to get his buttocks turned into a meme again".
The music ended as the band finished its rehearsal. The students who had assembled eagerly applauded the assembled musicians.
"Good job, Musa," Bloom said as the black-haired girl walked away from the others. "You all did great".
"Thanks," Musa replied. "There's still a few whoopsies here and there, but not more than what can be covered by the rest".
"Are you also going to be playing your solo piece?" Stella eagerly asked.
"Yes. At the concert," Musa said with a smirk. "You'll have to wait like the rest of the students".
"Aw, but I'm really curious," the blonde princess moaned.
"So if you have not trained it with the others, how do you know if it is good?" Flora questioned.
"I borrowed a recorder from Techna and played on my own," Musa replied. "I know it's silly, but I've made this piece entirely myself and I want people to hear it when it's done". She scratched her chin and thoughtfully added: "I suppose I got that from my parents".
"Funny you should say that," came Faragonda's voice and the girls turned to see the headmistress walk through the throng of students. "Musa, there's somebody here to see you". The elderly fairy stepped aside and revealed the guest that had been following her.
"Dad," Musa exclaimed in a mixture of surprise and happiness.
Musa's dad was a short, portly grey-haired man clad in a red suit and pants. "Musa, it's good to see you," he greeted her as the black-haired girl enveloped him in a hug.
"I had no idea you would be showing up," Musa said overjoyed.
"Well, you told me about your solo piece so I decided to surprise you," he explained. His face darkened a bit. "There are of course also other reasons, but we'll talk about that later".
"Hi, my name is Stella," the Solarian princess said as she went over to introduce herself. "It's great to meet you. Musa's said only good things about you".
Musa's father's eyes had a notably colder glare as he eyed Stella. "Yes, I've heard about you," he added neutrally. His gaze wandered around the room as he noted Musa's clustermates. "Heard about most of you, in fact". He returned his attention to his daughter. "Perhaps it will be better to talk about this now. If you'll excuse us".
Musa glanced at the others, shrugged and followed her father out of the room.
"What was that about?" Aisha asked.
"I don't know," Stella said concerned. "But I didn't like the look he gave me one bit".
...
"I'm sorry, all this concert practise must have damaged my hearing," Musa began as she and her father walked outside. "You said what?"
"I want you to stop being so close to those royal types," her father insisted as he turned to face her. "Nothing good ever comes out of associating with them".
"Right, I'll just march right up to them and say 'Sorry girls, we can't be friends anymore because my dad says so'" the black-haired girl retorted in annoyance. "Seriously, what have they done to you?"
"That Stella girl has been all over the papers," her dad continued. "Spending who knows how much nummi in stores all over the multiverse. Her shopping sprees are infamous. And her family has an even more infamous history of backstabbing, assassinations and outright civil war. You risk getting shot in the head just because you want to hang out with some ditzy blonde airhead".
"A perfect summation of Stella's character by somebody who doesn't know her at all," Musa snarked.
"Don't give me lip, young lady," her dad warned her. "I am only looking out for your best interest. Faragonda mentioned that girl from the Tides royal family has started hanging out with you. Her family is of the very worst sort when it comes to the royals. Completely cut off from reality, without care or concern for the people beneath them".
"Alright, I'll be the first to admit that Aisha has been a grating acquaintance," Musa admitted. "But she's really trying to improve herself, Dad. It's not exactly her fault she was born into such an isolating environment".
"And what, you think you can change her?" her dad asked sceptically. "What do you think will matter the most when she has to make an important decision? What she has learned from her parents and babysitters over almost two decades or what some nobody peasant girl told her that one year she was at Alfea?" When he noted the chilling look Musa gave him, he clarified: "Look, it doesn't matter how good a friend you think you are. She's been trained all her life to see you as someone who is beneath her. That's not something you can just change by being really nice to her".
"Well, you certainly can't change it by not doing anything at all either," Musa replied. "So I'm supposed to cut all contact with two of my clustermates, one whom I'm really good friends with by the way, just because you're paranoid about what might go wrong?"
"No, I want you to stay away from that Bloom girl too," her father continued.
Musa blinked a couple of times, before asking: "Seriously, what? She's not even been part of all this until half a year ago. You can't honestly say that she's bad just because she's related to royals".
"Have you checked the newspapers lately?" her father asked. "The only reason this place isn't swarming with journalist, politicians, royal messengers and what have you, is that Faragonda is keeping them out. She's in everyone's searchlight because she's such a new piece in the game. If you get close to her, you will get dragged into that game, Musa. And I don't want to happen to you too".
"So that's what this is all about," Musa said exasperated. "You want me to cut ties to some of my best friends, all because you're still hurting over Mom? Well, you know what? I'm hurting too, but you and Mom always told me that I should judge people by their actions, not their status. Maybe you've just forgotten that. Maybe you've forgotten where you came from in the first place. But I have absolutely no intentions of turning into a paranoid hermit just because you can't let go of the past". Musa could see in her father's hardening look that she had crossed a line somewhere in her rambling, but she was far too agitated to care.
"Very well then," he said coldly. "I was hoping we could do this gently, but you leave me no choice. I'll have you transferred to a school where you will not be associating with their type any longer". He abruptly turned and marched away with a: "One day you will understand and thank me".
Musa stood behind, fists clenched until she could almost feel the nails pierce her skin. White noise emanated from her as her anger messed with her magic. With a frustrated scream, a high-pitched tone, like feedback from a loudspeaker, exploded from her.
"Hey, are you okay?" Stella asked as she ran over to the angry girl. "What's wrong? I heard you yell".
"Get the others," Musa sighed as the static noise around her faded. "I've... I've got something to share with you".
...
Five minutes later, the girls assembled in the common room. Musa was pacing back and forth, with an expression halfway between thoughtful contemplation and furiously planning a murder, when Bloom and Flora entered as the last.
"So, like, could you tell us what that was all about?" Stella asked as the door closed. "First your dad's eyeing us like we're about to, like, eat a puppy in front of him or something. Then you're out in the yard screaming like you're trying to break every window in Alfea". Much more concerned, she asked: "What's wrong?"
"Dad's planning on having me transferred to another school," Musa huffed. "I mean, maybe he'll reconsider once he cools down a bit. But the threat will remain. He's afraid hanging out with royals will... Get me hurt or something worse".
"Your dad's kinda paranoid, isn't he?" Techna asked.
Musa stared out into the air for a bit. She sighed and added: "Actually... There's a reason for that". She turned to face her friends. "As you all may know, my mother is dead. Well, there's a bit more to that particular story". She took a deep breath. "My father was the heir to the throne of Cha. For those of you who don't know, it's a small kingdom on Andross".
After a moment, Aisha asked: "Wouldn't that make you a princess?"
"Okay, seriously, am I the only non-high society girl around here?" Techna asked bewildered. "First Firetop turns out to be a blueblood, then Flowergirl reveals she's a noble and now this".
"If it helps, I really don't consider myself a princess. Neither does my father's family for that matter," Musa replied. "Fact is, I'm a bastard in their eyes. You see, while they were grooming him for the whole becoming king business, he developed an interest in music and began researching music outside of what his parents allowed him to hear. You might even say that music was his first big love".
"I get the feeling that this is the part where things start to go wrong," Stella wryly commented.
"Well, depends on the viewpoint," Musa said. "Dad began using his trips to other nobles or politicians as an excuse to learn about the local music and such. He began experimenting with writing and playing his own music. And then he met my mother, Matlin. She was touring at the time as a singer. Not a big star or anything, but she had a natural talent, so she managed to attract a medium sized following. My father went to a couple of her concerts and grew quite fascinated with her. He presented himself to her after one of her concerts and asked for her assistance with a piece of music he himself had written. Mother agreed to come visit the next day to take a look at it". Musa smirked at the thought of what had happened. "In reality, my father hadn't even finished the piece. He had to work all night and could barely play the piano the next day. The song itself was nothing special. But they enjoyed their time together and it kinda grew from there". The black-haired musician sighed sadly.
"Then shit hit the fan?" Techna asked sympathetically.
"Big time," Musa replied. "My father sent a letter to his family, informing them that he wanted to be with Matlin instead of marrying some girl he'd never even met. He wanted to compose and play music rather than lead the nation. It wasn't a harsh letter or anything. He just wanted them to know that he had found his own path and that they should probably look to one of his siblings for the next heir".
"I may not know a whole lot about all these royal politics yet, but I imagine they didn't take that well," Bloom commented.
"They disowned him, cut him off from all he owned and refused to talk with him," Musa responded. "And you know why? Because they thought if they did so, he would come running back begging for mercy".
"They imagined that he was more interested in political influence and monetary gains than your mother and their music," Flora stated. "Trying to force the people you care about into your arms by forcing a rift in the family. A most despicable tactic in my opinion".
"Funny thing is, it just shows how little they really knew him," Musa added with a shrug. "They had been so focused on what they'd taught him to be that they never really got to know who he was on his own. I imagine that the fact that he took it in stride came as a great surprise. So my parents made a career out of their music and lived reasonably well. They had me and for the first seven or so years of my life, we were a happy family. Then... Well, my parents went to a charity concert for the survivors of the ill-fated Crimson Stretch expedition".
"An attempt to find a safe travel route across an area of Limphea known as the Crimson Stretch," Flora elaborated. "Of the seventy-five that left, only about fifteen returned. And not a single one of them came back intact".
"That sounds like a most unpleasant ordeal," Aisha noted while wincing. "Not to derail the story, but what happened?"
"A combination of legion beetles, savannah wargs, rivers of acid, frequent lightning storms, several potent sicknesses and a then unknown species of wyrm," the Limphean noble elaborated.
"Yes. Turns out one of those sicknesses made its way back with one of the survivors," Musa continued in a subdued voice. "My mother put a lot of effort into making the survivor's stay comfortable, assisting the nurses and such. They called it the Red Hunger, after its land of origin. It's a magic resistant bacteria that slowly shuts down the body by devouring all nutrients in the blood before the person can use it. No matter how much she ate or drank, my mother starved. Unfortunately, little was known of the sickness at the time. We had dozens of healers and doctors tend to her, but nothing worked. When it looked like all hope was lost, we learned of a possible newly discovered treatment in Xenith. But nothing is free in Xenith".
"Except the snow. But they're working on that," Techna quipped humourlessly.
"And while Mom and Dad kept us afloat, we weren't rich by any standard," Musa continued. "So my father swallowed his pride and begged his estranged family for assistance in saving his wife". Musa went silent and something in her eyes hardened. "They refused".
"THEY WHAT!?" came the simultaneous exclamation from everybody else in the room.
"They refused," Musa angrily repeated. "We tried to raise funds in other ways, but we lacked time. Mother died. And then... Then they sent us a letter". Musa breathed heavily and the faint sound of static could be heard again. "They wrote to us that now Mother was out of the picture, they were ready to welcome him back. They had even found some surrogates nanny parents for me, as well as a minor noble family I could eventually be married into, so I wouldn't get in Father's way. Do you understand? They might as well have killed Mom themselves, all because they still wanted my father back. As long as he would, you know, get rid of that pesky little family and career he made". She began stomping back and forth. "My father was beyond livid. I'd never seen him so angry before nor ever since. And why wouldn't he be? They let my Mother die so they could bring their carefully groomed heir back into the fold". She took a couple of deep breaths and the white noise faded. "My father hates the royals with a passion. Years of reading about their moral failings and political backstabbing has done little to improve his opinion. It hasn't exactly improved my opinion either, I'm afraid".
"Is that why you snapped at me so often?" Aisha asked sympathetically.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that by the way," Musa added while rubbing her temples. "It was just that your... Well, ignorance reminded me too much of that attitude. My father's family seriously expected he would come running back as soon as they let his wife die. How disconnected with reality do you have to be to come to such a fucked up conclusion?"
"That is rather messed up," Techna grumbled in agreement.
"And now your father fears that your association with royals like Stella or Aisha will bring harm to you as well?" Flora asked after some consideration.
"He's even afraid what me being close to Bloom can cause," Musa sighed. "Can't say I blame him. The politics involved has resulted in a lot of closeted skeletons. But Stella has some understanding of the real world, Bloom has never been a part of royalty and Aisha at least tries to learn. But I'm afraid that my father has forgotten that royals are people too, just like non-royals are".
"But will he really, like, force the issue and remove you from the school?" Stella asked worried.
"I don't know," Musa sighed while shaking her head. "I really don't know. I don't want to leave and I will fight it all the way if I have to. But I really don't know". She sunk down into a sofa looking utterly spent.
After a moment, Flora asked: "I notice you look rather tired. Should we tell the concert arrangers that you're taking the night off?"
"What? No, of course not," Musa said as she jumped out of the sofa. "I've spent months on this piece. Not even the Ancestral Witches themselves could stop me from playing tonight".
"Good to see you up and peppy," Techna said with a grin and patted the black-haired musician on the shoulder. "Let's go have a party".
...
Afternoon came and the major demonstrations at Red Fountain passed without incident. Afterwards it was time for the more hobbyist groups, like the musicians, dancers and artists, to show off what they had to offer. A large scene had been set up in one of the arenas, with plenty of room backstage, which was currently occupied by a mass of dancers and musicians getting ready for the opening number.
"So, I heard you and your father had a... Disagreement," Mirta said sympathetically as she sat down by Musa, who was testing her saxophone.
"That's putting it mildly," Musa flatly snarked. "He's out there by the way. Saw him on my way in. Pretty sure he saw me too. But we're not back at the 'speaking with each other' stage yet".
"That's sad. I do hope you two find common ground again," the redheaded ex-witch offered.
"Thanks. Might take a while though. He's stubborn," Musa commented.
"Who? Your old man?" came Riven's voice. Musa turned and saw the magenta-haired warrior approach, accompanied by the other boys and the girls.
"We just came to wish you good luck with this and the next show," Bloom said.
"Thanks. That really means a lot," Musa said earnestly.
"And of course we came to wish you good luck too, Mirta," Stella added.
Flora went over, gave her girlfriend a quick kiss and said: "Just remember that you can do this. There is no reason to be nervous".
Mirta, now blushing quite a lot, replied: "I'm going to do my best".
"And that is all anyone of us can really do," Flora commented philosophically, before leaving with the others.
"Maybe she should give Helia some pointers," Mirta mused, before Belisma hurried in and said: "Okay everybody. It's go time".
The people went out before the awaiting audience, dancers in front, musicians in the back. And then, after waiting for the audience to silence, it began. The music was a mix of old and modern instruments, with carefully thought out sections to allow all the instruments to come into the foreground, while the dancers flowed from one style of dancing to another.
In his seat, Musa's father sat and tapped his foot, following the rhythm. He had to admit it was good. Sure, there was the occasional false note and desynchronised instrument, something that stood out clearly to his trained ear, but many of these were beginners and quite good at it too. He glanced at Musa on the scene, watched her happily play on her saxophone and sighed. He did not enjoy fighting with his daughter like they had. Nor the coldness that had developed between them afterwards.
"Hey, is this seat taken?" Riven quietly asked as he moved through the seated audience.
"No, no, it's unoccupied," Musa's father assured him.
"Excellent," Riven said and sat down. "Unbelievable how hard it can be to find a decent seat. Would have looked for one sooner, but had to go backstage and say good luck with all the others to Musa and Mirta". After a moment, he clarified: "The black-haired one with the saxophone and the redhead who tries to stay behind the other dancers".
"You're on of Musa's friends?" her father asked, slightly suspicious.
"Would probably be an exaggeration. More like we're acquainted really," Riven admitted. "Friend of a friend, you know. But I'd like to get to know her better. She seems like a nice and cute girl".
"Yes. Yes, she is," her father said neutrally. "So, do you know how her time's been on Alfea?"
"Far as I know, she's happy," Riven said with a shrug.
"Right, but Alfea... Well, all the schools around here attract a lot of royals, really," Musa's father continued, trying to make it sound like this was just a random subject he just thought of and not something that had been bugging him for over a year. "Do you think it influences people? Drags them into some unfortunate things?"
"What could be more unfortunate than the shit that's already been going down?" the magenta-haired warrior asked. "I mean, not that I blame the schools, but still... Besides, wrong social circle for royal intrigue if you ask me. And I should know, I hang with some of the royals she knows".
"Really?" Musa's father asked with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
"Yeah. I mean, you got Sky who looks like your stereotypical knight on a noble steed," Riven commented. "But when you get down to it, he's kind of a meathead. A well-meaning one, but still, it's a good thing he's got us to think for him. Then there's Brandon's, who's been with Sky all his life as a squire, but he certainly hasn't let that go to his head. No, it took being promoted to squad leader for that to happen. And Timmy is from an influential family. Not noble by blood or anything, but they wield power. And he's just this complete geek who's only dangerous because he knows how to operate heavy artillery".
"And Musa hangs out with these guys?" her father continued the interrogation.
"Well, Brandon is Stella's boyfriend, Techna and Timmy are a couple and Bloom has started dating Sky again for some reason. So yeah, we see each other a lot," Riven commented.
"And these girls? What about them?"
"Stella's an airhead, but when you pull her out of the clouds, she's usually capable of making sense. Bloom's just some naïve kid from another world who's got this really big burden hurled at her face. Though her friends do help her shoulder that. Aisha is... Well, a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, but she's trying if nothing else. Musa's been really good at dragging her out of the royal mindset, by the by. Flora's noble, but comes from a people of nutjobs who insist on living on one of the most dangerous planets known to anybody. And Techna is... Well, absolutely batshit crazy, but in the really fun kind of way".
"I see. They sound like..." Musa's father struggled with the words.
"They're a riot. Yeah, sure, they all have some flaws, but who doesn't. We've all got some," Riven commented. "What really matters is that they are loyal and come through for each other. That's what makes them... Well, all of us, friends really".
"I see," Musa's father quietly commented.
The music number finished and the audience broke out in thunderous applause and cheering.
"And for the next number, we have a solo piece by Musa Xenophon," Belisma spoke into the microphone, before Musa took to the stage.
"Hi, everybody," she said cheerfully. "This is a solo piece I made myself. Spent a lot of time on it. I was inspired by... Well, all that's been happening here on Alfea. The good times, the bad times and just those everyday moments I've had a lot of fun here and met some great friends. So here's to all of you for everything we've gone through together". She put the saxophone to her mouth and started. Extra instruments were provided by a recorded track, but the focus remained on the black-haired girl. The song smoothly varied in tone, moving from happy passages, as if at a crazy fun party, to mournful tones that spoke of the losses the schools had suffered. In his seat, Musa's father sat and fumbled with his handkerchief.
"She's good," Riven commented awestruck. "She's really good".
"Yes. Yes she is," her father said and blew his nose. "Excuse me, but I'll have to go now".
"Sure thing," Riven said and let the older man pass. He leaned back in his chair with a smirk and softly commented to himself: "Who says I can't be diplomatic?"
On the stage, Musa finished the music and the audience went crazy with applause. As the black-haired girl went backstage, she suddenly froze and exclaimed: "Dad?"
Her dad fumbled with his fingers, swallowed his spit with an expression as if he was passing a kidney stone and finally said: "I'm sorry, Musa. I am so sorry".
"Are you... Are you crying?" Musa asked shocked.
"I guess I am," her father chuckled, drying his eyes with his handkerchief. "Musa, your dad has been a stubborn old fool. You're right. I was judging your friends more by their position than whom they were. The very same thing I hated my own family for doing. Life's ironic like that at times. I don't know your friends, but I know you. And you would not be friends with them unless they were good people. I'm sorry I let my own fears and hangups get in the way of trusting you. You're obviously happy here and I would never dream of tearing you away from all this". He sighed sadly. "So can you forgive a poor old idiot?"
Musa rushed to him and enveloped him in a hug. "Of course I can," she sobbed. "You're a stupid old man, but you're my stupid old man".
Her father blew his nose again and commented: "I think your mother said the same thing once. Different context, but still...".
"I can imagine," Musa giggled and sniffed loudly. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra handkerchief?"
"Sure. Here you go," her father said and handed her one.
"Thanks, Dad," the black-haired musician said and blew her nose. "That helps a lot".
"Thanks. I'm just happy I came to my senses before I did something stupid," her father said relieved.
"Before you did something stupid again," Musa cheekily corrected him.
"Well, you're certainly in a good mood again," her father harrumphed, though he couldn't hide his smirk.
"I know. What do you say we go watch the rest of the show?" Musa asked as they left the backstage area.
"I would very much like that," her father replied.
"Also, you did admit you didn't know my friends," Musa continued. "I think we should go fix that".