Capriccio

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Their parents birthed a choir to save the world.

Such a noble sacrifice! Such brave children! Truly selfless! And yet, no one had ever bothered to ask if the children had a choice in the matter.

The Song of Hope was a compulsion, deep magic woven directly into their being. It forced music to spring from her lips unbidden, unbridled by any conscious choice on their part. Capriccio knew, of course, that it was necessary. Together, she, along with her siblings, sang a shield around the world, stalwart protectors, little beacons of hope shining in the darkness. Their fate was to keep the Song of Despair at bay long enough for Memoria and Tephillah to cut it off at the source.

They were told they would only have to sing for a little while. Just long enough, their parents promised, to put an end to the Despair threatening to tear the world asunder. That had been days ago... or had it been months? Decades? Time ceased to have much meaning when The Song was the sum of their existence, their voices echoing together in infinite perpetuity from one end of reality to the other. Only the Blood of Naomi, potent with the power to bend reality, was strong enough for this monumental task. They were brought into this world with a purpose, and it is to that purpose Capriccio faithfully dedicated herself to. What other choice did she have?

She sings and sings and sings, harmonizing in perfection, her voice blending together with those of their sibling’s, until her lips are cracked and her mouth is dry and her vocal chords throb. She sings, and wonder what it would be like to have a real childhood. Would she squabble with her sisters? Wrestle with her brothers? Know her mother as ‘Mother’ and her father as ‘Father’, instead of strangers who assembled an octet of newborns and then abandoned them to The Song?

Were their mother and father ever coming back?

(It wouldn’t be the first time Memoria forgot her children, a distant part of her reflects. What made her think the Singers were different?)

Fury sometimes deigns to grace her with its companionship. She has a right to be angry. What parent would ever allow their children to be resigned to this fate much less force it upon them? What parent would purposefully give any child the gift of life only to consign them to a life of this? She projects hope unto the world, as is her duty, but bitterness rises in her throat like bile. Hope was their birthright, but none of them were ever destined to keep any for themselves, were they?

She wondered about the person she could have been, and mourned the loss. With The Song, there was no room for individuality. None of them had the chance to even form an identity beyond it, not when their lives revolved around maintaining perfect harmony with each other. She could not stop The Song anymore than she could stop the sun from shining… but she could, on occasion, strike a note of discordance. Not enough to weaken the shield, mind, or put everything they had worked for at risk. But it was enough of a rebellion to say, ‘I am here. I more than a voice among voices. I am more than The Song. Please don’t forget about me.’

She sings and sings and sings. None of them have any idea how long they’ve been at this. None of them have any frame of reference regarding the passage of time, only that a great deal of it had indeed passed.

And then- something in the air shifted. A change in the universe. A weight lifted off their shoulders, causing them all to stagger at its absence after a lifetime of bearing it.

It was done.

None of them stop singing, at first. That arcane knowledge had never been imparted upon them. One by one, though, their voices start to waver, and then taper off, until only one remained. Strong and powerful, the mark of a virtuosa. It took far too long for her to understand that it was her’s, so unaccustomed to hearing it unaccompanied that it was practically alien. She sings, and sings, Hope tinged with Desperation and Exhaustion and Grief and Rage. Why couldn’t she stop? Hadn’t she spent her entire life wishing she could?

Stop, she begged silently. Please make it stop. Stop. Stopstopstopstop-

With a crack like lightning striking the ground, her voice finally broke.

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