[So sorry for the delay again.]

She knew that not everyone could play music, and it didn't surprise her too much when the centaur didn't take the offer of the flute.  But the young man retorted, telling them both of another centaur he had met.  It excited the girl, she had a feeling that he had seen many of the places that she had only heard rumors about.  Then the centaur offered her own music, and Hotaru's eyes went wide at the side of the bird that came to visit.  The tiny creatures were always cautious around her, though they tolerated her because they knew that she brought them food.  Never had she thought that she could get that close to one of the birds.  She held her hands steady when the centaur placed the bird in her hand, and Hotaru gently stroked the bird.  It seemed so fragile, weighing almost nothing. 

Then the young man asked her to play something else, and Hotaru nodded with a flush on her cheeks.  It was always a pleasure to get a compliment.  She stared across the pond for a moment, considering what other tunes would be easy to plate on the flute.  She carefully set the sparrow on a nearby branch, then lifted the flute again.  "I have a feeling you've both noticed the cherry trees all over the city, yes?  There are many songs about them, but this one is my favorite," she said.  Hotaru played a few bars of the song, then added "there are words too, though whomever is singing can change them.  I just like the tune," with a chuckle.  Then she got into the song in earnest.

It was a cheerful, bubbly tune, something perfectly suited to the coming warm spring days.  Hotaru lost herself for a few moments, remembering the little nuances of the tune, and enjoying the others' addition to the music.  Then something odd seemed to happen.  Tiny motes of color were forming around the tree, making a ghost of the brilliant cherry blossoms that would soon blanket the trees.  But she remembered the other two were playing with her, and when Hotaru blinked, the motes of color went away.  But there was a lighter feeling in the air.  It wasn't just that the rain was slowing, there was something else in the air.

Paradox looked at the young man in curiousity. A centaur that played music? And fought well? It was almost alien to her, the two mending together. But she had heard of a similar story about one of her kind. He lived and died a long time ago, but was musician, a warrior, and a mentor to men in his day. She admired his work and his courage, and aspired to be someone like him when she was younger. She wanted to make a difference in the world of man, like he did.

She turned and looked down at the girl as she started to play the young man's flute again. She mentioned the trees and she nodded, she had seen them around. They were very sweet and she enjoyed picking the plump red fruit off the long branches. She closed her eyes and focused her ears on the music, the tune, the way it bounced lightly up and down the chords. She lifted her hands slightly and waved them around in small arcs to the sound of the music. A fleckling of small blooms erupted out of the ground where she moved her hand.

Blues, greens, reds, yellows, so many different flowers pushed themselves out and showed off their colors. She opened her eyes, smiling as the small field was now starting to be covered in the plants and the morning glory on the trees were starting to peek open. She pointed to the pond and small white sparks of light came from the murky depths and emerged as bright, white lotus flowers, floating on their leaves just above the water.

She twisted around and small saplings rose where her hooves used to be. She flicked her wrist and a brief shower of petals rained down on the three individuals. She danced slowly amongst the plants, careful not to step on any of them. She stepped with grace and precision, her tail flicking back and forth through the air like a banner. She shook her mane and laughed quietly, feeling almost like a foal again. The music seemed to bring out a sense of youth in her that she thought she had grown out of long ago. 

[Sorry for being away. Had to move house. All sorted now :)]
|Making no comment on the strangeness that was emerging from the cracks in the world, the young god simply stood, paying attention to the coloured lights that seemed to crackle beneath the surface of the stone he had been sitting up against. Instead, the drew in a long breath through his nostrils, the played another note. Higher. An A, followed by a C, then a C minor. He paused, opened his eyes and looked at the ground.

The moss appeared to be moving. Tiny tendrils of green, swaying to and fro. Good. A charge was building. The dream world was coming through, even though it was at a slow…Creep…

Mendean lunged over, seemingly attacking the violin with the bow. A number of horsehair strands immediately coming loose. His foot stamped hard into the spongy ground. Tiny droplets of water rose into the air, hovered for several unnatural moments, and then fell slowly around him. But he paid them no attention. All that mattered now, was the music.

Repeating the same four notes in a pattern, he matched the pace with that of the others, synchronising, joining, so that all present were now a part of the music. But it was not enough. Three individuals improvising a tune was a start, but he needed something even more potent. Something that would be noticed.

Settling down into a steady repetition, Mendean raised his head and called up to the trees. “I know you hear me. Join our song! You know you want to!”

In response, a hundred birds began chattering and chirruping from above. Every now and then, a note would fit into their tune, and then another. Steadily, complex harmonies and relationships between sounds began to emerge. As Mendean continued to play, he became aware of the sap-heartbeat of the trees, the ebb and flow of the wind, even the sound of many things beneath the soil.

Colours brightened, strange patterns emerged and flowed away. The whole world seemed to be breathing in response to the music of the three. The sky was filled with feathers, as the birds gathered overhead in a great spiralling pattern. Flashes of colour crackled and washed over the moss.

And deep beneath the earth, something stirred. Mendean grinned wildly. “Yes,” he said encouragingly.

While Hotaru was familiar with the concept of magic, it was something that she had never been able to conjure for herself.  Some of the elder monks could make water from nothing, and bend the elements to their will.  But she could not.  Hotaru was not jealous, she enjoyed her talent for music, and knew it was something that the others did not have.  Things around her were changing, and had she been a part of the greater world around her, Hotaru might have been scared.  But her whole world had been the monastery and the streets of Ataiyo beyond it, and the young woman had a difficult time imagining that there might be a danger to the beauty manifesting around the trio.

Then the birds joined in, and her eyes lit up.  But she kept playing.  It felt like an odd compulsion now, and Hotaru wanted to see whatever was happening to its conclusion.  She had to stop for her breath though, and Hotaru looked up in wonder at the patterns of the birds overhead.  "I've never seen them act like that.  How are you doing that?" she asked, curiosity the only emotion in her voice.  She did have to wonder though if the other monks were seeing any of this, or if the three were in their own little microcosm and immune from the world.