LES MUSICIENS DU MONDE ARC III 2011 TO 2016

by DanteVirgil09

This is the final arc of this particular saga where it is reaching closer and closer to its climax. When transcending choice for others and making them for some, where every emotion and motive for all characters will have to face and handle to the best of their abilities. Will everyone rise and pave their destinies or fall from grace? But all roads lead to the stars in the end.

15. Prelude II

LES MUSICIENS DU MONDE

A CROSSOVER STORY

2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016

Here is my attempt in having some fun, with another prelude. Well, this seems like an embarrassment of riches. This is to start a new portion for this story, my first true war arc for the main players. But the structure here is similar to the first one I put up in the beginning. But this is different in the vein on the events following the Christmas portion back in chapter eight. Plus at the time when those chapters were written, it would have taken me an incredibly long time to get to this point and with the way my life is going, time is everything. Not to mention the global pandemic going on, it's made things eschewed. Hell, I got sick from COVID-19 for Christ's sake! Luckily I didn't go to the hospital or anyone in my family got sick during that time. But I'm better now and getting better weekly since late August/early September.

More will come in chapter 10 coming soon. And boy, what a doozy that's going to be! So without further adieu, here is the second prelude. Enjoy.

PRELUDE II

'It seems the more place I see and experience, the bigger I realize the world to be. The more of it I become aware of, the more I realized how relatively little I know of it. How many places I have still to go to? How much more there is to learn? Maybe, that's enlightenment enough. To know there is no real final resting place of the mind. No moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom, such as it is, for me means to know how small I am, and unwise. And how far I have yet to go.'

Anthony Bourdain, 'No Reservations: Peru', 2006

JANUARY 2013, WEEK THREE

Medellín, Colombia

[Santo Domingo, Comuna Popular, Thursday, 1:37 PM]

Alberto, Gilberto, Zane, Jang, Christine, took the Metro Cable up to the neighborhood with near unrivaled views of the city. They were meeting the rest of the orchestra and join a barbeque with Alberto's childhood friends who now formed a local hip hop group that incorporated members from across the comunas, which back in the 90s were enemy territories during the drug-fueled civil war. Now, it's transformed like a swan, where street art, public infrastructure improvements, and a strong communal identity that was in stark contrast with its notorious past, it was no wonder Alberto still had ties to this city and this neighborhood. And this trip was a special one for obvious reasons: a connection back to their humanity and the nature of LMM.

The last time they were here was nearly three years ago with members from Aulamerta Academy and Coleridge Academy. Aulamerta alumni included Francesca Moliere, pianist/mezzo-soprano, and Emiko Takashiro who is still a flutist who took time from her own work ventures in Tokyo to come here. LMM even managed to ring the alumni from Coleridge to come, which included Paul Friedman the oboist, Jonathan Williams the violinist, and Sarah Highmore the cellist. The alumni from both schools were looked upon with awe by younger students who accompanied LMM to a part of the world hardly anyone in both schools rarely venture to. And the boys would exaggerate their trip by 'narrowly' avoiding death when driving in the mountains heading to Medellín last time got some hoots and hollers. But the girls before now young women were more grounded and enjoyed the experience.

The repertoire for Colombia would be very similar compared with the last time they were here. With one special twist, however, a piece by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. Gilberto Santos was tasked to perform the famous Violin Concerto in D Major. This was a dream come true for him, for years he wanted to perform a solo piece, and even if it was a short piece, he wanted to showcase his talents outside of the baroque. And with first steps into the Romantic repertoire is what is needed for them. So he brought with him his baroque violin and the modern violin he uses to rehearse and practice music at home. Both tuned to their specifications. And with the concert in two days, this barbecue was a welcome distraction. Tomorrow is them going over what they needed to go over and pray for Saturday night.

Today was different. The walk up to Alberto's friend's home was a bit tiring due to the hills. Alberto was escorting the group from Coleridge and Aulamerta. For them, the alumni, the neighborhood even if it is not as sketchy as in the past, it's far removed from their own lives back home. Once there they made their way a flight of stairs inside, and finally outside at the patio space. Once there, they had near unrivaled views of the city.

The rest of LMM was there and the main meal was already cooking over a wood fire, "What is that delicious smell," asked Francesca as she shook one of the guests' hands.

Alberto looked at her, "Sancocho, or a special version of it. Andrés there is a student at a culinary school and he's near graduation. To celebrate, well, we got a party," he said cheerfully.

But as the sancocho was cooking away, they all had snacks. The newest snack that came from the kitchen and prepared earlier was morcilla, blood sausage with rice, onion, and herbs mixed in. Those from France and the UK have had blood sausages before, but to their surprise, this was some of the best they've ever had. It was an excellent time; sumptuous food and drink (one of which was aguardiente, 'legal' moonshine for the most part), music, and good conversations with the locals, culminating in the final sacrifice.

A chicken was there alive but drunk due to the chef feeding it the moonshine type drink. The chef then said a prayer asking God for forgiveness, and grateful for the animal sacrifice for their food. With the deed done, the chef and a friend of his began to de-feather the dead fowl. The chicken's live killing surprised the Coleridge and Aulamerta guests, but everyone was enjoying themselves and the relatively cool breeze.

The sancocho was in the final stages of completion, LMM was with some of the cook's friends and talked. From pleasantries to the sad history of the neighborhood, when it was a training ground for assassins to serve the cartels.

"What happened was a dangerous combination of ignorance and guns," spoke one of the cook's friends who were also a fixer for LMM while in the city, "All the kids were then tailored and brought up by the cartels and made into soldiers. It wasn't their war! It was someone else's war!"

"But now it's completely different. Kids are getting into the arts, music, and the whole atmosphere changes," one of the local guys joined in.

Sarah commented, "When there's a change like that, there's a change in the human heart," and she got a welcoming high five from one of the ladies there.

"En el corazón humano, tienes lo que necesitas para vivir una vida plenamente humana. (In the human heart, you have what you need to live a fully human life.)," the girl said to Sarah.

Moments passed and the sancocho was ready. The broth thickened by the yucca, three types of potatoes, vegetables, local herbs, and three types of meat. For LMM this was a welcoming meal with good drinks and company. For those from Aulamerta and Coleridge, the stew was amazing. It brought up a lot of memories of when they were home with their families. And it was here sitting on the rooftop, eating delicious food, enjoying the company; the guest musicians learned that what they've seen in the city is reflected here. A tough area, transformed, and it didn't hurt that the city was one of the 'happiest in the world'. It was a given. When many know how bad things can get, many know what good really was.

[Teatro Metropolitano, Saturday, 8:00 PM]

As planned, Gilberto was performing Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 35 by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. His skill on the violin over the years went from prodigious technical talent from a young age (being ambidextrous certainly helped) to now incorporating honest emotion into his performances. Of course, since this was 19th-century music, the tuning for the instruments used was around A440 as opposed to A415 for baroque music. In addition to the piece is more of their fan fair of baroque repertoire. At the moment, the orchestra was a mix of their own members, as well as from the city's Music School of Barrio Popular #1, in association with the University of Antioquia. This school rose when the ashes of the past gave birth to this astounding rebirth of the arts.

With funding greater than the country's capital, federal and civic support, this was a shining night between the city's most skilled musicians and an international orchestra now on the foothold of stardom.

Mohammad was conducting was filled with joy as he waved his hands to conduct the musicians. Gilberto meanwhile was showcasing his talent and pride filled him, to showcase he's no longer a child prodigy, but a young man itching to take on the world. His friends waiting off stage were silently bobbing to the music with the first movement, and paying attention to his performance. Asuka, Fatma, and Eda were smiling and gasping at the musical phrasing he's worked so hard for. When the second movement came, it was laced with emotional depth, privately to showcase what he and his friends have felt during last year's WWAEI fiasco and the shame they endured. However, it also reflects the lesson learned and the need to move on. As the piece continued and eventually reaching its climax, Gilberto and the orchestra gave an astounding opening performance for what's to come for the rest of their South America tour.

Up next, after a quick change to period instrumentalists once more, and downsizing from the modern number of fifty (at least) to about twenty-six, was the famed Water Music by, of course, Georg Friedrich Händel. This was now standard but played three times a year in New York and Philadelphia. Anyone who was a fan knew this was par for the course to open the year off with or herald in the summer or fall. It was a stark counterpoint to Tchaikovsky's violin concerto, with period instruments and period tuning to A415. The addition of period brass instruments was something not many in the audience have heard.

Dante was absent and noted he won't be returning for a few months for a personal matter to attend to. Only those playing at the moment knew what was going on. But putting that aside, their evening in South America was a success. At the end of the piece, Emiko shined while performing on a piccolo recorder after switching from a traverse flute. It lasted for about forty-six minutes or so.

Following the ending of Handel's Water Music came a more scaled-down performance. They performed a suite from one of Handel's operas called Rodrigo, but for this instance, the Passacaglia. The timpani players were dismissed except Cecilia came back in a more relaxed dance outfit; one she wore under her concert dress. Once the music started, she started her dancing routine. She mixes her capoeira background in movement with techniques borrowed from interpretative dancing. But her movements weren't all over the place but fits well with the rhythm of the piece. She was lively but restrained, elegant, but occasionally showed her power in movement on stage. Fatma was performing solo moments with the violinists in the piece.

To conclude the evening, the baroque players retired from the stage and up next were to showcase Francesca's piano playing skills. Also, the piano was not a Steinway & Sons; instead, it was a Bösendorfer she had requested to be transported from Bogota to Medellín. For one, she preferred the quality of sound from her choice of pianos to the widespread American brand. Furthermore, she wants to in her way, fight against the monopolization of musical instruments in the classical world. Or in this case, if she won't play for Steinway exclusively, which she found out after graduating from Aulamerta, she wouldn't play on a Steinway at all. So she decided to play on Bösendorfer for international performances, but in Europe, she decided to play on Bösendorfer or a C. Bechstein pianos. With that mindset, she's able to play with peace of mind in concerts.

The piece she decided to play after LMM's repertoire was completed was Piano Sonata in C Minor H. 128 by Fanny Mendelssohn, sister to famed composer Felix Mendelssohn. Her work is coming to light after being overshadowed by her more famous brother for so long. But now, performing this piece for the audience, the musical DNA was spot on, and passages that directly linked it to Felix's work. It was a blessing that pianists like Francesca are performing this work in public. Inwardly, she figured her friend Emily in America would be watching and posting positive feedback online. She'll read them later.

[Santo Domingo, Comuna Popular, Sunday, 10:23AM]

Today was the last day in the country before the orchestra and their overseas colleagues have to head back home the following morning. They returned to the neighborhood and Alberto wanted to surprise his family relatives who surprised him by coming to the concert last night. Their home was spacious and two stories tall. Since the city had transformed, it was a far cry from a decade ago, where he and his parents didn't come in person. But now, with two days ago having a party on the roof and launching fireworks proved anything; was that the bad old days are gone. Today was a friendly family visit and as for tradition, the Moradi family would cook the day before to cap off a successful (or failed) concert with a meal for dinner, or in this case, a fabulous lunch

In the meantime, the few members of LMM who brought along their instruments gave low-key demonstrations to his family. But also with the door open to the outside, passersby heard some music. Even the alumni of Coleridge like Jonathan and Sarah, along with Francesca and Emiko from Aulamerta were joining in at several moments. The family home had a humble outright piano; Alberto's uncle played for a local bar/restaurant even during the worst of the drug wars. Bernhard was playing and even with Dante's absence, this was a fun day. Alberto on his theorbo and Christine on her cello performed a duet while Bernhard performed some of Schubert's songs on the piano with Francesca singing.

Half an hour later, while the music was playing, Emiko took Shinji upstairs so they may talk more in private. In the hallway near the bathroom, she delivered a bomb of information to him.

"今後数ヶ月間は、あなたとの連絡を止めなければなりません。 つまり、私たちはあまり連絡を取ることはありません。 しかしもちろんです。私たちはいつものように妹の下で一緒にトレーニング しかし、より親密な出会いは、その横に置かれる必要があります。 (I'm going to have to cease contact with you for the next few months. Meaning, we won't be in much contact. But we will be training together under my sister as usual of course. But our more…intimate encounters will have to be put to the side.)"

Shinji blinked, he didn't know what to say, and "すごい！ 私は何かをした… (I, wow! Did I do something…)" but was stopped by her.

"絶対にない。 しかしそれは個人的な問題である。 家族の問題。(Absolutely not. But it is a personal matter. A family matter.)," she stressed as she held his hand.

Shinji could tell the emotion filling her eyes, "誠さんは知っていますか。(Does Ms. Makoto know?)"

She nodded, "彼女はする。 しかしそれはあなたが知る必要があるすべてである。 今のところは (She does. But that is all you need to know. For now.)," she stressed, hoping for him to accept what she's sharing.

Shinji was silent for a moment. He nodded and smiled softly, "承知いたしました。 しかし、日本に戻った後、トレーニングに参加していただきます。 (All right. But I'll see you in training after we return to Japan.)"

She nodded. She kissed his cheek. They then returned downstairs and luckily no one was there to pay attention while the others performed music or played some games. A few of their numbers were outside and playing football (soccer) with the locals. Lionel Hernandez was captain of the LMM team while another local young adult team from the neighborhood. Shinji smiled as he sat down on the curb of the street and Emiko decided to see if she can make a call to some business associates back in Japan.

FEBRUARY 2013, WEEK TWO

Tasmania, Australia

[Mount Wellington, Thursday, 3:34 PM]

The two have taken up new lives since the fall of the Forever Knights three years ago. To travel from the UK and fleeing to South Africa took up time, effort, and constant looking over their shoulders. But even in South Africa was too risky for them to stake a new life. So they made their final jump to freedom, a one-way trip halfway across the world to the island of Tasmania off the coast of Australia. New Zealand was their second option, but due to its popularity and well-known place for British people to relocate, it was too risky. In case they came across people who knew them and may end up killing them. So now they were enjoying a new life. Three years of peace and anonymity.

Today, they surveyed the mountain as park rangers for Wellington Park. It was a good occupation to utilize their skills, without the use of combat. But tracking animals, on the lookout for arsonists, and making sure tourists and travelers are enjoying themselves and not getting lost in the rest of the park. Edward, Connor's former squire has grown up to be an upstanding young man. Connor his now surrogate father figure, was proud of his growth. They continued to survey the mountain until the end of their shift.

[Hobart, 9:23 PM]

The two cleaned up and headed into town for dinner. The day was sweltering, but the evening was relatively cool. They headed for an Italian restaurant just south of Princes Park. It was a bit of a trek from their home but it was their once a month treat to head out and enjoy an evening as two civilians. Once inside they ordered their meals and along with their water, had glasses of red wine.

"I have a date on Saturday," Edward said with Connor looking at him with a curious expression.

"Oh? Do I know the lucky lady?"

Edward chuckled, "She is the cute brunette who lives two houses down the street from us. I decided to try my luck and it panned out quite nicely."

Connor smiled, "Good for you. You're young. You should enjoy your youth the way I hadn't."

Edward blinked, "But," he whispered lowly so only he can hear, "But you were the best. Didn't you enjoy it?"

"I did," Connor spoke and continued, "But there were days where I grew envious of the village boys in the outside world who lived out their childhoods. Whereas I and others didn't."

Edward looked at Connor with sympathy, "My apologies. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Nah don't fret about it, boy. Enjoy yourself on Saturday."

Edward smiled, "Thank you."

"Remember to wrap it up if you don't want a child out of wedlock."

"Connor!"

The older man in question laughed at the younger man's expense. But it was all in good fun. The two enjoy their dinner and wine before heading home.

Their home was in West Hobart on Forbes Ave. Their home was modest, with hedges growing on top of a brick-laden wall around their home. Their gate was wooden with a stone path that led to the house. A one-story cottage type home with a chimney and colored off white with a green-tiled room. Modest by comparison to the castle fortresses they once resided in as knights of the order. However, it was their home now and they were content.

Meanwhile across the world

New York City, NY, USA

[Island D, 1:49 AM]

Just five miles south of the desolate Hart Island, south of the mouth of Long Island, lay a desolate island with no visible structures on top. Wilfredo was heading here by ferry with the help of Vinnie. Vinnie called Wilfredo to accompany him to a place where dark entities gather late at night to have a good time. I.e., specters that take on physical form, succubae, incubi, standard demon soldiers, magi, and mystics, even occultists. The structure underneath, with an access door near the base of a large boulder with a plaque on it written with obscure scripture neither the Italian nor Portuguese Americans could read. Vinnie knocked and the narrow eye slot above them opened, "Password?"

"Nox," Vinnie and Wilfredo uttered and the slot closed. Then the door opened and the two young men headed inside.

The flight of stairs going down was lit with orange electric lights with the same ambiance as a torchlight. At the bottom of the stairway, a human guard was holding up a tarot card. This is done to weed out regular humans from esoterics. This place was a death trap for humans but also a gathering place for secrets sold for a price-either sexual in nature, soul bargaining, or a drinking tab. Wilfredo hoped for the last option.

Vinnie and Wilfredo guessed the separate tarot cards correctly and were allowed entry. Inside was no different from a jazz club like the one both go to in Brooklyn or Queens. Wilfredo was alert here as was Vinnie, even while the activity was not as busy as usual. Vinnie approached a bouncer and spoke in a hushed whisper to speak with a guest who was a VIP here. The bouncer nodded and urged Vinnie to come along.

"Stay here and I'll be back in a few," Vinnie told Wilfredo who in turn nodded.

Seeing his friend walk away Wilfredo took a seat in one of the empty chairs. The low candle on the table gave the scent of musk and another scent that brought up images of writhing women in bed, and he having his fun. He let the images pass over him as waves that wash up against the rocks in the Azores. Then in the blink of an eye, a woman stood over him. Alluring in form, but it was her eyes that brought him back to earth.

"Hi there. Didn't expect you to work here. I thought you were merely a brothel worker," he recognized her. It was the demon he had banished from the apartment last year.

She chuckled, setting down the tray. Despite her demonic nature, her nature entranced him. She sported denim short shorts, a white tank top that showed her cleavage, stiletto heels, and her hair in a ponytail. Altogether, it allowed him some good views.

"I'm working part-time."
"Clearly. In these hard times, everyone has to have a side hustle," he said with a chuckle.

She sat down across from him, "Our next encounter will be in due time."
"I'm sure it will. But not tonight."

The demoness looked around the bar. The usual people were here tonight. Seeing Wilfredo across from her brought up old memories, old emotions, and even older desires. She loved him, but in a way that was perverse and sordid. She longed to claim his soul, her ultimate goal. But the destruction of his vessel came first, she knew this, as well as his skills, and he still could resist. She didn't mind at all. This was a game that regardless of players, was as old as time.

She remembered her time with him. The taking of his virginity, the lustful escapades befitting the raging urges of a teenager. He'd hidden them from his family and friends. But then she saw him mature akin to a thorny rose, into a progressively loyal man. This was a surprise, but as much as it may have annoyed, it also enticed. It wasn't that she didn't expect this change, if anything; she relished it, despite seeing it truly show itself.

"Fair enough," she said with a gentle smile, "Be well?"

He nodded, "Be well."

Then Vinnie was seen coming out of the room with the tower of a bouncer, "Did you get what you were looking for," Wil asked him.

"I sure did. Come on. Our work is done tonight," Vinnie told Wilfredo and he got up to bid Carina goodnight. Vinnie too tipped his hat to her and the two young men left silently.

Once Vinnie and Wilfredo made their way back to the surface and onto the ferry, the Italian American turned to his friend, "Be careful man. One wrong step, she may keep you from doing what you want to do or have to do."

"I know that. Thanks," Wilfredo said but then yelped as Vinnie grabbed his crotch, "Ow! H-Hey!"

"Good. Cause guys like me need your head on your shoulders. Not the one who is a dreamer," then he let go and smirked, "Come. Let's wait downstairs so we can dock."

"Fuck man," Wilfredo groaned but then walked behind him. He was thinking now about going home, getting some sleep, and taking the day off tomorrow from classes to practice music for the next trip.

Kyoto, Japan

[Kyoto Prefectural Hokuryo Senior High, Sakyo-Ku Ward, Friday, 9:23 AM]

It was the final term for the current school year. Shinji was invited to perform with the current crop of music students in his alma mater and perform a solo piece for the students in his old music class. Later it was scheduled for him to give an interview on camera for a local newsgroup. He had to be reminded of him from time to time that he was famous. Perhaps not on the level of J-Pop stars, actors, or even Tomohiko Akazawa his professional rival from Tokyo, but he was well known. One of the few in his generation to be a traveling cellist for an international orchestra, performing non-standard repertoire, and traveling to locations not really explored by those his age.

In the school auditorium, he was tuning his instrument, needing time away to be alone and focus. His baroque cello was ready to perform but he would use his modern equivalent to perform with the students in a bit. Like his baroque cello, his modern cello had no fine tuners, indicating his skill with the instrument. As he waited for the morning class, arranged ahead of time and something he wanted to do for some time but put off due to his obligations for LMM and training under the tutelage of the Takashiro sisters, Emiko and Makoto.

He gripped his baroque cello and did his current version of warm-up exercises, the Ricecar Decima by Giovanni Battista Degli Antoni; 17th-century facsimiles for solo cello. The structure was similar to a fugue, but the original composer for the unaccompanied cello was an unknown but no doubt a cellist. It was something he wanted to perform solo cello from the baroque period outside from Abel or Bach. However, the original manuscript was written in facsimiles so he had to use the modern print text. As he performed, which lasted for nearly four minutes showcased his dexterity and fluidity of style. The sound coming off of the gut strings was pleasing to him and the music beautiful; a few teachers were observing him as he prepared for the morning lecture. They were silent as he was performing. The music teacher coming in to conduct was proud of Shinji who found a path for his talent. Four minutes later Shinji's playing ceased, the piece was finished.

When ten o'clock came around he headed up to his old music class. He greeted his music professor and in turn greeted the class. The professor was proud to have his former student back to perform not for his students, but with the more talented from the class. In other words, Shinji was an assistant teacher for his old music teacher. The class had also changed since Shinji's time, with a club after school to explore period performance and learning to play on period instruments. Shinji's time with LMM had indirectly influenced this but it was an experiment that has developed interesting results.

As Shinji explained the piece he and the two selected students were about to perform, Sonata VI in F Major, No. 9 by Carl Friedrich Abel, and give instruction on how to perform as a group but give room for individual voices to be heard. As Shinji explained, the class absorbed his instruction. Then he and the two students began to perform the piece. The class now had a harpsichord to go alongside the baby grand piano. As he performed with the two students on baroque violin and harpsichord, he was impressed with their talent and focus. When they finished their go around, he and the teacher advised on improving their timing, pacing, and communication between instrumentalists.

So with that, they performed the piece a second time, there was already an improvement. When they were finished the teacher clapped, the two students were proud and Shinji was satisfied and smiled as well. The teacher then turned to Shinji, "なぜあなたの現代チェロを持って来たのですか。 (Why did you bring along your modern cello?)"

"午後には京都芸術劇場春秋座でのパフォーマンスもあります。 (Oh, this is for another performance in the afternoon at the Kyoto Art Theater Shunjuza.)"

"どのようなパフォーマンスを発揮しますか？ (What will you be performing?)," a second-year high school student asked while he held viola case.

"C 、 Op で Quartet を実行します。 33 、 3 位：ジョセフ・ハイドン アートシアターの学生と連携して、オーケストラの Web サイトでストリーミングされます。 (We'll be performing the Quartet in C, Op. 33, No. 3 by Joseph Haydn. It will be streamed on my orchestra's website, in connection with the art theater's students.)"

"古典的なレパートリーに入るのがいいですね。(Oh, nice of you to enter the classical repertoire.)," his former teacher quipped, causing Shinji to laugh bashfully.

"私は翼を広げるのが良いと感じた ビット (I felt it was good to spread my wings a bit.)," Shinji remarked, causing the teacher to laugh jovially.

Shinji smiled and turned to face the class, "ご質問はありますか？ (Any questions?)"

Hands were raised. The questions stemmed from where he's going next, what's his repertoire, and if he's going to have LMM come and perform in Japan again. He answered them as best he could. One girl cheekily asked him, "ご質問はありますか？ (Do you have a girlfriend?)"

Shinji widened his eyes and laughed jovially with a slight blush, "いいえ、現時点ではありません。 私は忙しかった。 (No, not at the moment. I've been too busy.)"

The girls giggled a bit and the boys giving them an attitude. The teacher settled them down and Shinji sighed, reacting to the commotion. Nothing changed with high school teenagers. Still, his own relationship with Emiko was private and not one to disclose, least of all to teen students.

[12:05 PM]

Shinji was eating with his former teacher and some of his former teachers as well in the lounge. They all brought a bento from home and he was eating what his mom cooked for him; grilled salmon over rice and a mixed salad. His drink was some oolong tea brewed by one of the teachers. They all were happy he made time to come today and he assured them it was no problem. They asked about his travels, what he would be doing for the rest of the day, and if he was enjoying his Latin American tour so far. He answered in order:

"私の旅行は疲れているが、楽しみである。 (My travels are exhausting but fun.)"

"劇場で上演しますが、その後に表示されます。 (I'll be performing at a theater and after that, I'll see.)"
"ラテンアメリカは素晴らしい。 想像以上に冒険的で多様性に富んでいます。 (Latin America is fantastic. More adventurous and diverse than I ever imagined.)"

Some teachers expressed their admiration for him going to exotic and potentially dangerous locations. Such as Colombia, Brazil, Venezuela, and beforehand when he went to Mexico and El Salvador earlier in the tour.

"素晴らしい！ それらの国は旅行するために危険にもかかわらずそうする! 勇気とドライブを持っていることを示しています (Amazing! Those countries sound risky to travel to and you do so anyway! Shows you have the courage and drive!)," one of the older teachers told him as he drank his tea.

He assured them that as long as he was in a group or with fixers, the danger is minimal (never disclosed to them his WWAEI fiasco in Europe, of course). And told him his recital later would be streamed and uploaded to the theater's website and his orchestra's. He was excited, albeit still nervous.

[Kyoto Art Theater Shunjuza, 3:30 PM]

Shinji arrived a half-hour ago and since then was there with cameras set up along with microphones, the chamber recital was coming along. He was rehearsing alongside the two violinists there and the violist. His baroque cello was leaning against the wall opposite him, in its case safe and sound. For him, to go from baroque to classical required a slightly different mindset. But now it's a chamber piece, it was far more difficult for him stylistically. On one hand, he's communicating with musicians he's been rehearsing for a few months on and off online and in real life. On the other, he's nervous that his involvement with LMM would diminish his focus on what is present.

A few minutes later, they were finished with some warm-up exercises and decided to talk for a while. At least until four o'clock, that is. So they just discussed some every day minutiae.

"私は大高すぎている。(I'm getting sick of otakus.)," the first violinist said. She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"最悪です。 マンガやアニメのお店、その人気アニメの忍者村、そして、どこにでも自撮りしたいと思っています！ (They're the worst. They all want either to fine manga/anime shops, ninja village from that popular anime, and oh, selfies all over the place!)"

The second violinist said as he drank some water with his violin resting gently on his lap, "知っています！ 最近はダウンタウンには行けません！ すべてではありませんが、このようなオタク的なことは、ここでも海外でも少し多すぎます。 そして私を Vocaloid の屑で始めて得てはいけない ! (I know! I can barely go downtown these days! Not all of them, but this otaku thing here and abroad, it's a bit too much. And don't get me started on the vocaloid trash!)"

The violist laughed as he gripped his instrument and bow, "ああ人、私のいとこは」 1 を結婚したいと思う ! どんなうながらくた ! (Oh man, my cousin wants to marry one! What utter crap!)"

The girl groaned and the two lamented the now dead and degenerate music scene of Japan. The real good music for them, in rock, electronica, and jazz were still largely played in small venues or the hole in the wall clubs across the big cities. Few gained popularity like 'Merging Moon', a band both like. But of course, expectations for young adults to get 'legitimate jobs' in finance, law, technology, or medicine still weigh heavy on a lot of shoulders. Even those in the classical arts, traditional or Western are in an acceptable grey area. People like Shinji or Tomohiko are known as the new 'vanguard' of the new creative generation. Shinji disagreed.

"西洋人からのこのオタクの流行についてどう思いますか。(What do you think of this otaku craze from Westerners?)," the first violinist asked Shinji.

Shinji who was lost in thought blinked and looked at them, "ええ、無害ですね。 それは少し愚かであるが、実際に傷つけているものは何であるか。 財布だけ。 (Uh well…it's harmless. Sure it's a bit silly, but what are they really hurting? Just their wallets.)"

The three nodded, "本当 (That's true)," and this awarded Shinji a chuckle from the two.

[4:00 PM]

The four then started their piece, Quartet in C, Op. 33, No. 3 by Joseph Haydn, also known as "The Bird". It was part of a series of quartets written in the summer and autumn of 1781. The composer dedicated them to the Grand Duke Paul of Russia.

The three local musicians were in sync, and Shinji felt he was trying to keep up. Or at least, keep the flow consistent. But despite his worries, everything was going well. The three were excited to perform with someone famous as Shinji.

[4:25 PM]

After the performance, Shinji agreed to do an interview right on the stage of the concert hall. And due to current technology, streaming it live was much easier to do than even two years ago. So the interview was as uncut as it can be and the interview was asking good questions. The questions ranged from his first performance, his year abroad in the US, his travels, Europe, Latin America, and maintaining his ties to his home. When one particular question was asked, Shinji didn't anticipate the answer he ultimately gave.

"最初の cellist として LMM の仕事を続けるために何を描いたか。 それはオーケストラの内で保つ移動または他の要因であるか。 必要なら東京のフィルハーモニーに加わることができる。 (What has drawn you to continue to work for LMM as a first cellist? Is it the traveling or other factors that keep you within the orchestra? You could join the philharmonic in Tokyo if you want.)"

Shinji chuckled and answered honestly, "この時点では単なる仕事ではありません。 (I have to say it's more than just a job at this point.)"

"どういうことですか？ (What do you mean?)"

"私は私が決して持っていなかった何かを与えられることを意味する: 自由。 (I mean that it's given me something I never had: freedom.)"

"自由？ (Freedom?)"

Shinji nodded, "私が決してあり、方法で…方法でアイデンティティを作成するチャンス Moradi 氏は私のためのその可能な生命を現実作成するのを助けた誰かである。 そう多くの方法で、彼および彼の家族、グループの私の友人および私達を世界的に支える皆。 私は時々私達がいかに幸運であるか信じることができない。 または、私はどんなに幸運なのか。 これは頻繁に、またはこれまでに起こらない。 (A chance to create an identity I never had and in a way…in a way Mr. Moradi is someone that helped to create that possible life for me a reality. In so many ways, he and his family, my friends in the group, and everyone who supports us worldwide. I can't believe how lucky we are sometimes. Or how lucky I am. This doesn't happen often, or ever.)"

Shinji was smiling and chuckling. Then he began to mention his family.

"そして私の養家族は私を長年かけて接地させた ! 私に一年間アメリカに同行してくれたとしても。 彼らはする必要がなかったが、それらはし、そして Haruki の私の兄弟は…アメリカのその全年に…来た 私たちの運営方法、パフォーマンス、リハーサルについて多くのことを変えました。 感謝しています。 本当に感謝しています。 (And my adoptive family kept me grounded over the years! Even accompanying me to America for a full year. They didn't have to, but they did and even my brother in Haruki came along…That whole year in America…changed a lot of things on how we operate, how we perform and rehearse. I'm grateful. Truly grateful.)"

The way he spoke showcased how deeply grateful he was for them. The interviewer pushed to find out more about the year abroad in America, "1 年ですか？ これは学校教育にどのような影響を与えましたか？ (A full year? How did that affect your schooling?)"

Shinji laughed, explaining the amount of paperwork and Internet connectivity problems caused many headaches. He half-joked that his mother's prayers for ensuring he graduated and attended the Tokyo University of Fine Arts paid off. The interview continued and the man who was conducting was in awe of Shinji's candor, sincerity, and depth. He wanted to know more about the young cellist who seemingly out of nowhere became one of the rising stars of Japan alongside Tomohiko Akazawa of Tokyo. If things continued as they are, the two cellists will give the country something to talk about.

Shinji chuckled, "それについては知りません。 彼と私は、クラシック音楽のパフォーマンススタイルと好みが異なっています。 (I don't know about that. He and I have different performance styles and taste in classical music.)"

"しかし、それが重要なポイントです。 あなたと彼はお互いをプッシュして、国内のトップレベルに入ることができます。 (But that's the point! You and he can push each other to be at the top level in the country.)"

Shinji smiled a bit, "私は粉砕されている。 私はこれまでにライバルを持ったことがありませんでした。 音楽の最少は…私はちょうど種類のどこもから出て来た。 (I'm flattered. And I never had a rival before. Least of all in music…I just sort of came out of nowhere.)"

The interviewer clapped his hands once to showcase his point, "そのためです。 そのためです。 君はどこからも出なかった。 そして京都では、今では国際的なオーケストラとの名前を作り、あなたの年齢の反対であるこのオンライン存在を持っている。 ここにはポップアイドルもいましたし、韓国もソーシャルメディアに注目していました！ それについて何を共有できますか？ (That's why. That's exactly why. You came out of nowhere. And in Kyoto no less, and now you're making a name for yourself with an international orchestra and have this online presence that's the opposite of others your age. Hell, you even got some pop idols here and in South Korea to take notice on social media! What can you share about that?)"

Shinji was processing this and just answered as honestly as he could, "分かりません。 私はちょうど私でありたいと思う。 (I don't know. I just want to be me.)"

Later that night

[Saturday, 1:34 AM]

He woke up with a start. The familiar ceiling of his bedroom brought him back to reality. But the dream still resonated in his mind, pulsing with the beating of his heart. He took out a digital recorder and spoke to it:

"私は夢から目が覚めた。 数週間それらを持っていた。 数日ごとに発生します。 面白い。 これは私の友人および私がこの平行世界にいつ来たか私に思い出させる。 これらの「ダム」メッセージはありますか。 その場合、誰が彼らを私に送っているのですか。 なぜですか？ 申し訳ありません…画像が変化しました。 月の上に三角の形をした三星、広大な軍隊に直面するために降下する 7 つの影、そしてそれらに感謝する 2 つのモンスター : 再度、なぜか。 分かりません。 私はそれらが続くとき私の夢を記録する。 (I woke up from a dream. Been having them for a few weeks. They occur every few days. It's funny. This reminds me of when my friends and I came to this parallel world. Are these 'dreams' messages? If so, who is sending them to me? Why? Sorry…the images turned out to be varied. Three stars that formed a triangular shape above the moon, seven shadows descending to face a vast army, and two monsters flanking them: again, why? I don't know. I'll record my dreams if and when they continue.)"

He stopped recording and got out of bed. He went to the restroom and once done he headed downstairs to the kitchen. He drank some water and looked out the window to the dark streets outside with the street lamps lighting it with a white glow. He also noticed something in the blink of the eye. A boy, or at least the form of a boy outside and on instinct, he went outside to see if the boy was okay. When he opened the front door and then the gate to see where he was, the boy was gone. Shinji in his confusion went back inside. Then he felt something around the home as if something was trying to penetrate the wards Koji had set up. It sounded like the wind rustling against the leaves, even when there was no wind tonight. He was unnerved but decided going to bed would be the better option. He closed the door behind him. The boy was still visible across the street.

MARCH 2013, WEEK THREE

Manaus, Brasil

[Amazon Theatre, Saturday, 7:04 PM]

The sounds of a symphony filled the concert hall. LMM was performing a piece by Franz Schubert, his Symphony No. 2 in B-Flat Major, D. 485. The sounds of luscious strings with woodwinds whirled around the concertgoers' ears like waves. The alumni from Coleridge and Aulamerta have decided to perform with them for the rest of the tour. Except for Emiko, due to circumstances back in Japan, she needed to attend to. Dante couldn't make it, again. Saying he was busy with some training he couldn't ignore. He asked Lionel about this but all he got from him was:

"Todo lo que sé es que está teniendo un tiempo de interés en la antigua Roma. (All I know is he is having a period of interest in Ancient Rome.)"

Many didn't get it. Lionel said he didn't either. But whatever the Italian Argentine was doing, he hoped it wouldn't delay him for their next trip. In the meantime, he and Zane were recording their live performances of two symphonies. Following this symphony was another of Franz Schubert's, Symphony No. 6 in C Major. Plus they were on a tight schedule due to the local philharmonic would perform their set after they did. But they were grateful to the concert organizers for arranging this ahead of time. The theatre was indeed, the most beautiful concert hall they have all been to. Rivaling those in Europe. And that spoke volumes to LMM. And it was in Manaus, a modern city lost in the vastness of the Amazon rainforest, home to the more beautiful concert hall and wonderful acoustics. It was ludicrous, but in this was a nutshell of the Americas. North and South.

Meanwhile,

Buenos Aires, Argentina

[+Basilica San António de la Plata, 8:06PM]

"Ancora! (Again!)"

A voice rang out in a cavernous chamber beneath a church. A fighting instructor was across from Dante who was sweating and focused. He was on his end, just keeping up.

Dante was training with two representatives of the Capernaum Empire. It is an empire from across the door with relations to both Ledger Domain and Sairgoth. The men were teaching Dante their fighting tactics and both were chosen by the empire's leader, Syanna, and the man who administered the walk of shame and his labor under Florianne of House Michon, Alastair. The training over the past three months was three hours a day for five days, with weekends to rest. He's been training in weapons, hand-to-hand combat, and strategy. What he's found out was how basic the moves were, but that did not diminish their effectiveness. In fact, what he was learning was brutal efficiency; he learned quickly that if he saw an opening in his opponent, the honor goes out the window.

What he's noticed though was his changing physique. His lean, toned physique was being replaced with a more muscular but powerful build, due to training and the food he's eating. The food was from across the door and while it tasted familiar, it wasn't the food he's known. Neither Italian nor Argentine Spanish, nor anything Mediterranean: but it felt cleaner if that was a good descriptive.
At the moment he's training with one of the instructors while the other was supervising. And as it has been for the past three months, their place of training was underneath the cathedral in the basement; a cavernous basement with the foundations of the building around them; creating an inverse cathedral-type setting for training. As the saying goes, 'as above, so below'. The training itself was interesting. It gave off vibes of Ancient Roman tactics in combat, weapons, and strategy. With crucial differences though, they felt more Renaissance. More accurately as his instructors are teaching him if Rome had survived into the Renaissance. He made passing comparisons with the Byzantine Empire, but it didn't quite mesh. Besides, he couldn't understand the language of Capernaum, which sounded like a vastly antiquated Italian form, they opted to speak to him in the modern dialect.

But in the present moment, his mind was on the training. His progress was steady, but once again he was on the floor.

"Alzati! (Get up!)"

Dante groaned and got up. But instead of continuing to training, it was time for a break. He was thrown a canteen of water and he drank its contents in full. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he cracked away from the tension from his limbs and neck. His instructor walked to him.

"Stai migliorando. Ma sei ancora lontano da quello che vogliamo che tu diventi. (You're improving. But you're still far from what we want you to become.)"

"Continui a dirlo per mesi. E io continuo a chiedermi cosa intendi. Per favore... cosa diventerò? (You keep saying that for months. And I keep asking what do you mean. Please…what am I to become?)"

The instructor replied once again as before, "Un comandante. (A leader.)"

"Un comandante di che cosa? (A leader of what?)," Dante practically pleaded now, "Cosa devo guidare? (What am I to lead?)"

The instructor then looked to the second representative of Caperneum who replied, "Una legione. (A legion)."

This threw Dante for a loop as the second representative explained. As Dante listened, his expression changed from surprise to shock, reluctance, and finally, acceptance. But still grappling with not seeing his friends, or his girlfriend, Fatma. He missed her. He wanted to see her and speak with her. But his instincts told him he needed to stay put and go through with the training. He couldn't explain why his instincts are telling him to go forward. But as he controlled his heavy breathing.

Dante worded his response to make himself clear, "Allora... cosa aspettiamo? (So…what are we waiting for?)"

The instructor grinned, as did the other there, "Per te. Ora, vogliamo ricominciare? (For you. Now, shall we begin again?)"

Dante smiled, "Andiamo avanti. (Let's proceed.)"

The instructor then had the second instructor to take his spot and face Dante. The first man then raised his hand and moved it downward in a sharp gesture. This signaled round three and Dante resumed his training.

Later that evening

Manaus, Brazil

[9:34 PM]

Cecilia and Fatma were having dinner together at a restaurant. Their friends were in a couple of bars or eating out themselves. They changed out of their concert outfits and now dressed in more casual clothes. They ordered some grilled meat on skewers and beer. The two wanted to discuss a sensitive subject in their lives; the men in their lives.

"I'm wondering what is going on with Dante," Fatma revealed and continued, "He's stuck in Argentina and since a few months ago, I've hardly talked with him at all."

"Have you asked Lionel? Both are neighbors, sort of, in Buenos Aires," Cecilia said as she wiped her mouth.

Fatma shook her head in a no, "I asked him, but even he doesn't know. Plus, there are other problems between him and me as of late."

Cecilia's ears perked up at the statement. This alluded that there was trouble in paradise. This is surprising since, in her eyes, Dante and Fatma have a very stable relationship. So she asked gently, "Is it because of the rogue business from last year?"

Fatma shook her head in a no, "Not exactly. It's been lacking from both of us I have to admit. It's…us holding back."

Cecilia looked at Fatma carefully. Not to use her own power against her friend, but to see the aura around the Iranian Turkish girl. She saw it but let Fatma voice it herself, "It's this…thing between us where we are unsure how to bridge that final gap."

Cecilia then pointed out the facts of their relationship, "You love him."

"Yes."
"You respect him."
"Yes."
"You admire his ambition and intelligence."
"Yes."
"You both are intimate, emotionally, and physically."
"Of course."
"He respects your ambitions, your power, your femininity, and he practically worships you."

"Evet, evet, evet! Bunların hepsi doğru! Anlıyorum! (Yes, yes, yes! All of that is true! I get it!)," Fatma exclaimed and in that small outburst, she shattered the glass in her hand.

The two picked up the glass shards and cleaned up the mess. Cecilia called one of the waiters, "Podemos pegar outro copo, por favor? Meu amiga o quebrou por acidente. (Can we get another glass? My friend broke it by accident.)"

The waiter nodded, "No problem, miss."

Fatma sighed, "Sorry. But here's the thing Cecilia," she steadied herself before continuing, "…He and I are still learning how to express…love. Everything you've said is true and more. But he hasn't allowed that door to be opened between us."

Cecilia was thinking, comparing this conversation with her own relationship with Wilfredo. She loved and respected him, but there are portions of his past she did not know of. And like Fatma and Dante, Wilfredo was clearly holding onto something she felt he is deeply ashamed of.

Fatma laughed dryly, "We're fools in love."

"Agreed," Cecilia responded; then the waiter returned with a new glass for Fatma to have. The two continued with dinner.

[Hotel Villa Amazônia, 11:34 PM]

Cecilia was alone in her room. She didn't approach Wilfredo tonight or make love with him as they normally would. No, tonight was different. Her talk with Fatma still felt fresh in her mind. She did wonder about her relationship with him, a lot more since the European rogue fiasco, trial in Sairgoth, and the walk of shame. Wilfredo since his working vacation in Quebec, came back more relaxed and centered. He returned there in the winter for two weeks and when she asked him what he does there, he responded with, "A adquirir experiência de trabalho e a relaxar, é tudo. (Acquiring work experience and relaxing, that's all.)"

When she thought about that, another reason came to mind: he met someone.

But that was too paranoid of her to consider. She wasn't like that normally. She trusted him. It was earned over the years and normally he's been honest with her. But as she thought and recalled small moments, like in Marseilles she and he made love. She ventured to the window to close the curtains. She briefly looked out and saw a prostitute who turned her head from her direction and walked on. She wanted to ask Wilfredo, but she stopped herself and the two proceeded.

'Teria eu sido sábio ignorá-lo? Ou...sou ingênuo demais? E Wilfredo... Ele realmente me ama, ou apenas a idéia de mim? (Had I been wise to ignore it? Or…am I too naïve? And Wilfredo…Does he truly love me, or only the idea of me?)'

She sat up in her bed and went to the window. She can see the gibbous moon above and wonder to herself about what to do. After a few moments, she decided to keep it in the back of her mind. At some point, she would press him on what he truly wants from her. And she would have to confront him. She had her dignity to consider.

'Um dia, teremos uma longa conversa. Porque eu preciso saber qual é a sua posição. (One day we'll have a long talk. Because I need to know where you stand.),' she decided.

APRIL 2013, WEEK THREE

Cusco, Peru

[Saqsaywaman, Monday, 5:30 AM]

The fifteen founding members of LMM were waiting in the ruins of Saqsaywaman just outside of Cusco. Before coming to the country, they sent invitations to the magi who aided them in taking on and defeating the WWAEI to join them on this trip. It was their way of burying the hatchet with them and putting the walk of shame they endured to bed. But they weren't sure if they would accept their invitation or reject it. So they were surprised when they received a response to a letter sent to Mohammad, written by Angelina Assendorp just three days before departure:

In response to the invitation:

Professor Mohammad Moradi,

I humbly thank you for your invitation. A trip to South America is a welcome surprise and yes, I would like to come. Several of my friends would also like to come as well: James Parker, Jane and William Underwood, Henrietta Fournier, Rachel Brunner, Hanford Allaway, Basilio Abatangelo, and Anthony Jernigan.

Unfortunately, three in our company are unable to come; namely Alastair Rathbone, Michael Barrett, and Vincente Gonzalez Arroyo. The three in question have prior engagements to attention in their respective countries. But they appreciated the invitation just the same.

We will provide our own transport. Await us in Cusco at the ruins of Saqsaywaman. See you all soon.

Sincerely,

Angelina Assendorp

That was the letter and now they await them just before sunrise. But due to the altitude and climate of the year, the city was slightly wet from rain and chilly from the wind. Then they felt the ground rumble a bit and then an arch formed from the ground. On one side the pillars of stone depicted the iconography of the ancient Incan civilization and on the other side, they contained depictions of boats, ships, windmills, and homes along canals. The doors opened and out came the magi as noted from the letter.

The arch disappeared into the ground. The fifteen greeted the magi in question with awkward handshakes. The silence between them was alleviated with a simple question, "Are you all hungry?"

Gilberto asked and the magi looked at him and smiled. It was William who answered, "Well it was nearly lunch at our end of the world. So who's to say no to a second breakfast?"

With that said, they all headed for the central market in the city. Safe to say the ambiance of the central market reminded the magi of the markets in their hometown's wards. Almost anything and everything was found there. There were the usual staples such as fruits, vegetables, and every part of the animal displayed and ready for cooking. As they passed the vendors who were getting ready for the day, they encountered a place to get some breakfast.

Breakfast was a noodle soup with a light but flavorful broth, cilantro, cabbage, bits of carrot, and chuños, an indigenous type of small potatoes; over three thousand from across the Andes region. The magi even talked with a polite elderly woman who suggested the meal to the group. They thanked her graciously.

Even after breakfast was over, or lunch for the magi, the altitude was getting to them. Even for Rachel or Basilio who have been to the Alps in Europe, this was a whole other level of acclimation for them. So LMM took them to one of many vendors in the streets where coca leaves were sold. However, the plant by itself was not addictive, which contains only 1% of the active ingredient found in illegal narcotics, cocaine in other words. But it is a natural stimulant the indigenous Quechua of Peru, and the Aymara of Bolivia have relied on for centuries. The vendor instructed to wrap the leaf around a small bit of limestone, lipita. Once put in the mouth and chewed, everyone perked up for the early morning and walked around before heading back to the hotel.

[Belmond Hotel Monasterio, 8:23 AM]

The magi from Europe were all accounted for and their rooms were reserved ahead of time. The hotel was the most luxurious in the city, the well-known Belmond Hotel Monasterio, a converted Franciscan monastery. For everyone, even the magi, the high altitude was affecting their senses. Luckily, the hotel pumps in extra oxygen for guests who need time to acclimate. The magi appreciated this. Even LMM was grateful for this. Nine days in the Andes would be plenty of time for them to get used to the air pressure. But the coca leaves are handy for them. No one was complaining.

Later in the day, once rehearsals were over they explored the city. The magi and LMM separated into small groups to explore the city, catch views from the surrounding hills, and see the mixture of Incan and Spanish architecture around the area. Like the Incan stone-walled structures along Hatun Rumiyuq Street, or the Old Spanish colonial architecture in the old city district. The sight of indigenous people selling their wares on the streets alongside the new influx of business from the urban coast, which is bringing in a new crowd of people, i.e. hipsters, to bring in a sense of hipness. For the locals, this was welcomed but at times at arm's distance. Cusco was a gateway for the rest of the communities in the mountains. This region was very different from Lima and the newcomers got that vibe immediately.

While everyone then convened in the city's main square, seeing the architecture of the ornate baroque church (LMM's venue in the coming days). They all knew Easter was over and some were disappointed to not have seen the locals celebrate Holy Week. Drinking water and having some local snacks, the magi looked around, glancing at the orchestra's content expressions, this was a good start to the week. They all were then joined by local guides LMM had called ahead of time to help guide them for the rest of their stay in the city, to show what's going on, where to go, where to eat, even dine in their homes between now and their last day in the country.

[Iglesía de la Compañía de la Jesús, Saturday, 8:00PM]

The week passed by in a near blur, with the groups enjoying their trip. At first separate, but slowly getting to know one another. The magi in question were in the pews of the old baroque church seeing the orchestra perform. The acoustics were wonderful and the repertoire was a mixture of their standard, the new, and a nod to Latin American baroque written by Jesuit monks.

Two pieces they performed included singers from Cuzco and Lima. The first piece was titled "Ah, Señores los de Buen Gusto" by Ignacio Quispe who lived in the 17th century. Another of the pieces they included in the program from the Viceroyalty of Peru was "A este del peregrine" by Tomas de Torrejó y Velasco. These two pieces, like those they performed in Mexico, showcased there was a rich baroque tradition in Latin America. It just took a little more digging to find them than would Spanish repertoire from Spain. The rest of the evening included standard repertoire from J.S. Bach, G.P. Telemann, Alessandro Scarlatti, and Giuseppe Tartini.

Later that evening, around 10 pm when dinner was eaten; they still had the energy to burn. So they joined their guides for a quick trek around town they had gotten to know and love. Going to some bars, even some hidden gems are known only to locals, and wards the magi had learned from local esoterics.

[Chinchero, Sunday, 9:23 AM]

Following the route of a famed travel writer and host from America, both groups made their way to a town 30km outside of Cusco. The harsh and arid landscape was very different for the magi. The looks of dry skin and chapped lips of the men, women, and children really showed the rugged beauty of the people and the land. Today they toured a farm where the host family agreed to show them around. They had the usual staples such as chickens, Peruvian corn, and guinea pigs. Which was what they're going to try.

In traditional Andean cuisine, guinea pigs are considered a delicacy for the indigenous peoples. In Incan times, priests would dissect one to look at the entrails to look into the future. The magi learned this from their fixer, and once thought about Europe in pre-Christian times at their animal and even human sacrifices. But here, they're going to eat some guinea pig with a thick tortilla made from maize and Peruvian corn.

Anthony was the first to comment, "It's got an interesting flavor. But I don't think this would be popular in the UK."

William interjected, "Give it a French name! Even that tosser Gordon Ramsay wouldn't ignore this tasty snack," he smiled as he ate.

"When is the UK going to stop with the French jokes," Henrietta asked in a dry tone as she drank some water.

"When hell freezes over," Hanford quipped but he got a slap on the arm from her, "Ow!"

William laughed at this. The rest of the magi finished their meal and politely displayed their gratitude to their gracious host. But their day was just starting and went to town. It was Sunday and that meant people were going to church and or setting up stands to get food and drinks after service.

The drinks available to the people were of course ranged from juices for the kids, and water bottles for the rest. But also a drink made from fermented corn called chicha. Where they boil the corn in bins, covered for a week for natural fermentation to take shape, and after a week, the drink is prepared. The alcohol content was low compared to beer, and when the drinks are served in big glasses, LMM felt they got one glass apiece. For William and Rachel however:

"Oh yeah! This is wondrous!" William exclaimed.

Rachel too smiled, "It is delicious and sweet! Very unusual!"

"But I wouldn't drink ten pints of this. No way," Basilio commented, "It's rich though. Very hearty!"

Angelina smiled, as did the magi. The mystics in LMM were talking and Lionel with them as he discussed Dante's absence then began speaking with one of the locals in Spanish. The exchange between Andean Peruvian Spanish and Argentine Spanish got a few humorous moments due to differences in slang and pronunciation. But it was still a pleasant exchange between the two young men. They talked about soccer or fútbol as it is known in Latin America, and they agreed to hang out in Cusco.

In truth, they are hanging out in Cusco for an additional day before heading out to their final destination. Perhaps the most famed ruins in all of the Americas, and a trip on the Hiram Bingham would make this a memorable experience.

WEEK FOUR

[Machu Picchu, Tuesday, 10:00 AM]

They all were now looking over the vista of the ruins. The Spanish never made it here, never found it, and forever an Incan city. The only ones who would know what happened here are the natives of the area, who have remained silent for centuries until American explorer Hiram Bingham came in 1911. Since then, millions of tourists come every year to explore the last Incan stronghold. The disappearance of the people and the reason for why fills volumes.

"What did it take to build all of this and how they got the stones up here," Basilio inquired as he walked up with the fixer with the others exploring the site in different groups.

"Thousands of workers, doing all of this for the last Incan rulers."

"And the Spanish never came here?"

The fixer nodded a no, "Never."

"And…somehow even centuries later, we don't know what happened to them."

The fixer smiled, "Many, many theories but really, we don't know."

Meanwhile, Anthony with Cecilia was walking up the terraced steps, "So that side is farmland," he pointed to his left, "And here is all residential?"

Cecilia looked to the right, "Apparently so. And from what the fixer explained, many of the buildings were covered with a sort of plaster and had paint on them."

Anthony was somewhat surprised, "And of course that's all gone. And the roofs are gone as well," he said and she nodded.

The rest of the group was just taking the views of the mountains around them and a few were examining the stonework. All of the stonework was done with tight stone fitting, an ingenious feat of engineering for the time, or in any era of human architecture. To the point where many can't fit a knife blade between the mammoth stones, which Wilfredo tried with a piece of paper. He struggled and was forced to give up.

As they wandered around the ruins, taking in the silence of the area and the wind calming their souls, other thoughts came into mind. Wondering how the Incans fell to Spanish rule, their civilization flourishing for centuries beforehand, the key question came to mind for LMM: What would have happened if the Incans have successfully resisted the Spaniards?

Angelina was alone at the top of the steppes looking down on the ruins and looking upward to the mountains surrounding them. The silence of the place filled her with peace and calm. She then heard some footsteps behind her and it was Mohammad's wife, Dania.

"How are you, miss?"

Angelina looked at her, "I'm well, thank you. And I have to say to you directly, this was a lovely trip."

Dania smiled and bowed her head to the Dutch woman, "You're welcome. We wanted to show our true face."

Angelina then quipped with, "If we had seen this face of yours last year, the rest of us magi would have liked your musicians more."

Dania laughed, "True. They are an intense bunch. They mean well and…to be honest with you, they regret everything they've done."

"I know they do. But if the root of this is not dealt with, this would happen again."

Dania nodded at the seriousness of Angelina's words. The two women remained silent as they looked towards the vista of Machu Picchu. Dania knew what Angelina was concerned with. In fact, she herself felt deep concern for the musicians since that night in the desert, the firestorm of Philadelphia, and the battle in New York. Every conflict so far has pushed them towards a limit she fearfully had seen in Lebanon during the civil war.

She and Mohammad had seen their friends and colleagues pick up guns to fight off against various soldiers. Soldiers from different factions and political alliances; something Mohammad had once told her. They could not defend their loved ones with musical instruments. It was a life they hoped to never subject their two children to; Yasmin and Mazhar for most of their lives have never seen fighting. That is until 2006.

Dania remembered how her kids were worried to hear that they and the orchestra were caught up in the middle of a conflict and forced to stay put for nearly two weeks. That was a very tense time. Then came the GBCC and saw how upset her husband was with the orchestra. Then the Forever Knights, and what followed were two years of peace and quiet. It was well deserved and what followed was the WWAEI fiasco.

She looked at the young woman, "I hope so as well. It's a naïve hope though."

Angelina looked at the older woman and asked, "You've seen war, haven't you?"

Dania nodded, "Many years ago."

Angelina then thought of the musicians themselves. It was a train of thought that came to her and looked to Dania. There was a silent understanding on what must be done for the future. Dania got up and held her hand for Angelina. She accepted and the two women left and rejoined the others.

MAY 2013, WEEK FOUR

Valparaíso, Chile

[Monday, 6:00 PM]

Wilfredo was in his hotel room talking with a friend on the phone. And thanks to a phone card he'd purchased, he can time how long he can talk to his friends and family back in the US without eating at his phone bill. He planned to go out soon, despite the rain. At the moment he's having a surprisingly good conversation with a girl he had briefly met in New York, but gotten to know over the past few months. Tiffany Hopkins. To his embarrassment, he almost forgot who she was since he never expected to see her again. She's a rich girl who had gone to private schools across New England. He didn't expect to have anything in common with her. He was wrong.

Surprisingly for a rich girl, he has a proclivity for history and archaeology and interested in martial arts and the paranormal since her own experiences at Bankcroft Academy nearly ten years ago. And due to this, both of them were able to find common ground in their discussions. Tonight's being one of them.

"But taking that into consideration, you are not wrong that esoteric arts are a 'science'. It's just science that for those who have followed the natural and hard sciences have forsaken or forgotten."

Tiffany on her end spoke, "So the ruins of Central America and India would shed insight into this then."

Wilfredo chuckled to himself, "I guess," then drank water to quench his throat and thirst.

"Well, this has been fun. What do you think, Tiff?"

Tiffany's voice rang out, "It was a good conversation. Better than what I usually have with classmates here in Dartmouth. Thank you."

He said it was no problem and as they now wind down their phone call with lighter topics on their lives in New England and New York respectfully, and what they're going to do over the weekend. Then in the spur of the moment, she asked him something that's been on her mind:

"I've been wondering about something. Are you still seeing Cecilia in LMM because she's a colleague and a dancer for the orchestra? Or is it genuine?"

He sighed and answered as best he could, "It's like this. We've been together for years. Since 2007 so by autumn of this year, it would be six years."

"So you've been the loyal type then?"

Now, this is where it got awkward, "Well…no. I was a bit of a dog in high school. No one I know personally, knows this. But it was something for me to just have a separate life away from everything."

"When you said 'everything', you mean being an esoteric?"

"In a way yes. I was a kid back then. Nowadays I've been on the straight and narrow. But it's hard. And," he chuckled, "I'm not gonna lie in saying I don't miss my days of being with multiple girls."

Tiffany didn't say anything for a second but then spoke, "Would you go back?"

"If I wasn't in a relationship, and handling something delicate in Canada, I would. But, I know I cannot do whatever I want these days. I have responsibilities to LMM and outside it."

"I get it. Well, I'll let you go for now. I'll talk to you later."

He yawned, "Sure, later Tiff."

Hanover, NH, USA

[Dartmouth College, 5:05 PM]

Tiffany hung up the phone. She set it down on her desk and yawned. She glanced at her friend who was laying on her bed, reading a book, an African American girl with a purple turtleneck and a dark blue skirt with black leggings. Her boots were on the floor and she looked up, "How's your friend?"

"Busy in Chile. He'll be in South America until his last stop in Argentina. Busy, busy boy."

The girl on the bed smiled a bit, who then closed her book. She sat up, "What's he like?"

"Smart, athletic, a good cellist, and a bit of a history geek."

The black girl laughed, "Sounds fun. And right up your alley."

Tiffany rolled her eyes, "I'm not interested in relationships. Not now anyway. But I would admit, he does have a certain appeal," she smiled to herself, not having her friend to see.

The girl in question was now interested and wondered how to persuade Tiffany on shaping the guy's profile. What she meant by profile, she meant information on people not available on social media. Basically, being covert, even when circumnavigating the home defenses would be esoteric targets. She was Madelyn Spaulding, and she was thorough when going after people for money, or general curiosity.

"I can always find more about him, Tiff."

"You can, but not now. Things like this require timing. Do you understand?"

Madelyn groaned, "Between you and Melanie, it's ingrained into my psyche. Of course, I understand. But is it because he's a mystic?"

"Partly, but I also respect his privacy. And as I've mentioned, now is not the time. Compris? (Understand?)"

"Oui. (Yes.)," Madelyn responded as she then sat up. Then standing up to stretch her limbs. Relieving stiff joints.

"Good. Now, let's have fun somewhere in town tonight," Tiffany proposed and Madelyn agreed. Once the girl put on her boots, and Tiffany grabbing her coat, the two-headed out to get dinner in town in one of the restaurants.

Once outside of college grounds, they stopped at a Thai restaurant and since it was just the start of dinner, the place hadn't filled up yet. Tiffany ordered the red curry with a green papaya salad. Meanwhile, Madelyn ordered the tom yum soup. Both had sparkling water as drinks and as they waited for their food to come, Madelyn then took out some notes she meant to share with Tiffany in the dorm.

"That client you told me to look up. I only found a list of what he had purchased recently in D.C."

Tiffany took the list and while it was small, the titles were foreboding. Dark, occult titles of books and tomes that only an esoteric would know; like Wilfredo for instance. The tiles were in French, German, Latin, Classic Hebrew, Arabic, and an unknown language. The titles were vaguely familiar. She then set the list down, folded it.

"Is he going to find more information in Valparaíso?"

"He should. Or find someone who can."

Valparaíso, Chile

[Wednesday, 2:23 PM]

The girls, Cecilia, Delilah, Christine, and Fatma, were walking down the port to look at the ships coming in from the south and the north. In spite of the rain, they took pictures and talked amongst themselves until they heard someone calling them. They looked around and Fatma was beside herself when sees Dante disembarking from a ship with his luggage and waving at her with a smile.

She ran to him and the two embraced. They kissed passionately to make up for the distance and time they've endured for months. He whispered to her and from the other girls' perspective, their faces went from loving to somewhat serious in a matter of moments. Later they headed for one of the bars located near the ports to grab a drink. Except for Fatma who just wanted water, so Cecilia, Delilah, and Christine got some beers and they began to talk.

"So why did it took you so long to come? What's going on," Christine asked.

Dante looked at her, "Remember when we all walked that path of shame and I was gone for over a month-and-a-half," and the girls nodded yes in unison.

"Well…I got something to share. Something big."

Meanwhile, just a stone's throw from the port, Wilfredo along with Zane, Gilberto, and Alberto were heading for a church nearby; the Iglesia de la Matriz. Wilfredo was in contact with a priest who may aid him with research on behalf of Tiffany Hopkins. As the young men were in sight of the church, a priest then called them. He ushered them inside to escape the rain. The young men folded their umbrellas and were then told to sit in the pews near the statue of Jesus. They did as they were told, but Wilfredo's friends had questions.

"¿Por qué salir con esta chica a la que no ves mucho desde Nueva York? ¿Una investigación sobre un coleccionista de libros? (Why go out for this broad you don't see much since New York? An investigation on a book collector?)," Gilberto asked in Spanish, which has vastly improved over the years.

"Es amable y paga bien. Además este caso me intrigó. Quizá esté conectado con el homicidio de Baltimore del que te hablé. (She's nice and she pays well. Plus this case intrigued me. Maybe it is connected to the homicide in Baltimore I told you all about.)"

Zane knew what he meant, but even this was a bit out of his friend's way. This was going to a place, that perhaps for the first time; he won't be able to follow him. If not today or tomorrow, but in the future, that time will come.

Then they heard footsteps and they turned to see who it was. It was a priest with the signature black attire and a white collar. But something about him was not of the country, let alone the continent. He seemed a foreigner, "Trouxe estranhos para aqui? São eles familiares? (You've brought strangers here? Are they familiars?)"

Wilfredo responded without missing a beat, "Eu fiz e eles são. (I did and they are.)," he took a closer look, "Você é aquele homem que conheci em Portugal. És da Ordem do Oriente. (You're that man I met back in Portugal. You're from the Order of the East.)"

The man smiled, "Fico contente por se lembrar. E correcção, chama-se a isto a Ordem da Lótus Branca. Acabei de lhe dizer um dos nomes. (I'm glad you remember. And correction, it's called the Order of the White Lotus. I just told you one of the names.)"

The priest then sat down to discuss what was going on. The young men were intrigued and Wilfredo was serious throughout. At the same time, Dante was having his discussion with the girls near the port. The two conversations going on will shape what's to come for them all. Not in their public lives, but in their private lives known only to them. Or so they hope.

JUNE 2013, WEEK ONE

Montevideo, Uruguay

The back-to-back trip between two countries on opposite sides of the continent was beginning to wear out the orchestra. And the long trip from Chile to Uruguay was not helping them out. From Valparaíso to Montevideo, with a canceled flight, they rented vans and trekked across the continent. The trip took nearly two days. One, it gave them a break and save costs from using another plane to transport their equipment. Two, it gave them a chance to record the landscape in video and photos. Thirdly, they were ahead of schedule.

After venturing across the mountains of Chile and into the deserts and Pampas of Argentina; not to mention spending a night in Mendoza, they crossed the Uruguay River and into the country of their destination. It was exhausting when they changed drivers, but fun to see the different landscapes. In particular, for Dante and Shinji; with the former who used this as a way to showcase his country to his friends, and Shinji to relish his last leg of the trip before returning to Japan for his break; he wasn't going to perform in Buenos Aires in a week's time.

[Playa Ramírez, Tuesday, 5:04PM]

Shinji was relaxing on a beach towel on the beach. It was a crisp overcast day and looked out towards the water. The freshwater of the Rio de la Plata mixing with the saltiness of the Atlantic was something he's never seen to this scale. He was there to relax and then he heard footsteps to his right and it was Dante. Shinji smiled and Dante sat down on the sand beside him.

"I'm sorry," Dante spoke and Shinji looked at him.
"For what?"
"For pressuring you and others to go down that path last year against the rogues," Dante clarified his apology.

Shinji was beside himself and then just decided to speak what's on his mind, "I've always thought we were so clever. To avoid the authorities and just do what we felt was right. But we always found ways where whatever we tried didn't work."

Dante nodded and Shinji continued, "You're a good man. And I would follow you anywhere if you and others feel it's right. But after the rogues and trial, I…I don't know. I feel like whatever comes next would test us in ways we can't imagine."

"I know."

"Do you? Sometimes I wonder if you truly know. Or you'll just let your pride in your intellect get us in hot water, again."

Dante looked at Shinji, surprised by his bite. But also saw him calming down, "I'm sorry. I'm just tired."

"You want to go home?"
Shinji nodded, "This tour was great and we practically saw the whole continent. But I need to go home."

Dante smiled and then got up. Shinji got up as well. The two talked about what to have for dinner and continue their conversation. Later that week Shinji said goodbye and he'd be in touch with them after the tour is over. He boarded his plane and made the long trip back to Japan.

JULY 2013, WEEK TWO

Kiso Valley, Nagano Prefecture, Japan

[Narai-juku, Shiojiri City, Thursday, 11:23 AM]

Shinji was walking around town with the blistering heat bearing down on him. It was the hottest day on record and even with his straw hat from Panama and sunscreen, he felt the sun targeted him in particular. As he took a sip of water he noticed the green mountains of the Japanese Alps, looking around at the period architecture of Narai-juku where's on the old Nakasendo Road linking Kyoto and Edo, modern-day Tokyo, felt at peace.

He decided to not go to Buenos Aires and instead focus on a project for Veritas. He needed to recharge before going back on the road. In addition, following their Latin American tour is a traveling excursion with several members of LMM. The core members more specifically, travel from India/Sri Lanka to Madagascar, travel up the Congo to the Nile River, head to Egypt, and hopefully end the trip by traveling across the Sahara and make their final stop in Morocco. He can't wait for it. All preparations were made months in advance for the new trip, and for the next few months, it was their break from music. Until December that is, with a special invitation to the Keats Institute in Scotland to perform with other orchestras to win a top prize, but that was for later.

He stopped in front of a small eatery for an early lunch called Kokorone. He greeted the proprietor and sat down inside to get away from the heat. As he ordered toji soba noodles with tofu and chicken he heard steps from upstairs and saw a young man coming down. The period dress threw him for a loop. A red hakama with a blue suikan with the sleeves slit opened above the shoulders and cuffs with string woven through, or sode-kukuri, as they are known.

"矢はいつ彼女の墓に行くのですか。(When are ya' going to her grave?)," the owner of the eatery asked the young man who held the hilt of his katana and adjusted his robes.

The young man looked to the owner with somber eyes but then cheered up, "麺の後。(After some noodles.)," and he sat down next to Shinji.

He briefly looked at him, "よ。(Yo.)," he greeted and Shinji nodded back with a polite smile.

The two ate in silence with the young man ordering what Shinji had. Shinji also took note of the speed of the young man's appetite. Once done, he quickly got up and ran out of the eatery. Shinji ate his lunch at his pace and once done, paid for his meal and bid the man farewell. He spent the rest of his day sightseeing.

[8:23 PM]

That night he was at a ryokan called Iseya. He had dinner with the other guests there. He caught a bit of the conversation that was going on. It involved a case the teen boy present solved back in Tokyo and was relaxed to not to solve another homicide tonight. He couldn't tell if the young man was joking or not. But he said nothing and focused on his dinner.

The teen was with a girl his age and what he deduced was the girl's father. The father was drinking sake more than eating his food. So he appeared and came off tipsy and trying to hit on the two female guests who were eating with them. Shinji inwardly sighed as he ate.

The drunken man looked at him, "こんにちは、若い男！ 飲みたい？ (Hi there, young man! Wanna drink?)"

Shinji politely accepted one cup from him and the man poured some for him. The two clinked their cups and Shinji drank his while the man down his. The man reminded him of Misato when she's looking for time to unwind. Her voice rang in his head.

"ええ、ええ！ いいですね！(Oh yeah! That's good!)"

"あなたは男の子です！ 1 つのように行動しなさい ! (You're a boy! Act like one!)"

"

もう二つの新司があるのだろうか。(May I have another Shinji?)"

"

入浴は体と魂を浄化する。(Bathing cleanses the body and soul.)"Shinji smiled to himself and asked for a second. The man was happy while his daughter and presumably her boyfriend looked at the man with a bemused expression. When dinner was over, the Shinji helped the girl to holster her father to their room. The girl was apologizing for her father's behavior, but Shinji assured her he's seen this enough in his life. Usually when he's with his old friends from high school back in Kyoto and would venture to Osaka to have a good time. Once the man was laid down onto the futon, the girl thanked Shinji. He bid her and the boy a good evening, as he wanted to take a walk around town. Unbeknownst to him, the girl's presumed boyfriend quietly observed him.

Shinji was walking around town and passed a now closed wine shop, making a mental note to order bottles for Dante, Lionel, Juliette, Edmond, and for his own family. As he walked, the nightlife was nowhere near as vibrant as Kyoto or Osaka. The rural countryside felt like a relaxing tonic. A trip back in time, a more rural time for Japan, and once he sees the wooden bridge that leads to town, he looked below to the stream flowing along. The sound of flowing water calmed his mind, and his heart.

As he thought to himself on the bridge, he was unaware of the teen boy who observed him back at the ryokan. The boy followed him and he took out a folded photo from his blazer's inner pocket. It was an autographed photo of Shinji Manabe, but also attached to it, was a surveillance photo that dates back to January of last year when a traffic incident occurred that derailed a case he worked on in collaboration with Japanese and British police jurisdictions. It was a cluster fuck of a day and the days that followed had both police forces investigating those who were responsible. To their surprise, the areas where it happened, surveillance cameras were turned off or their footage manipulated.

He put the picture away and walked back to the ryokan. He's planning to corner Shinji at some point when another event goes down that is severe enough and if the famous cellist was in the middle of it. Only time would tell.

To be continued

I would like to thank my good friend Pagliacci 11 for helping to edit this prelude. His story on this site, "Code Lyoko: Revolutions and Evolutions" is a wonderful and detailed continuation of a cartoon I loved as a kid. Plus, this has been a struggle to put out for the reasons stated above. In addition, my own stubbornness in ideas and evolution has held me back. I would like to thank my friend to shake me out of it and get me back on track.

Read, review, critique, and I'll see you all soon.