Cadenza

And in that still silence I thought I heard a voice. It was a melancholy melody. Rizng and falling in an endless cadenza. Wrapping the world in it's sorrows and joys. A child's voice filled with emotion beyond what even the wisest of our kind may describe as a joyful sadness. I silently went to the open door. What I saw amazed me and to this day I will never forget it.

 

I had come upon a plain room surrounded by rosewood walls with an old chair sitting off to one side. Near the old chair was an old wooden bookcase that looked as though it might collapse at any second. Across from the threshold where I stood was an open window. It's delicate opaque curtains blowing playfully in the light spring breeze. Golden rays of sunlight flooded the dark flooring beneath it, illuminating the child's face who now stood silently beside the window.

 

The girl couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. Her blonde hair curled playfully against her face. A slight blush was growing on her cheeks as she began speaking to me, "Professor. I'm so sorry. I know I'm supposed to be in the other wing, but-" She stumbled over her words several times as she tried to explain to me. Her mossy green eyes growing in agitaion and embarassment as she spoke.

 

I stopped her before she stumbled again, "Easy. I'm not a professor. I'm only a Third year myself."

 

Her tone immediately changed from embarassed to curious as she asked, "What's a Third year? I've heard about Sixth years, maybe even Fifth years...But Third year?" Her eyes widened slightly as she finished her last question.

 

I felt my ears and face go hot as I answered her question, "It's a rare thing. It means they don't know what to do with me." I'm sure my face was a brilliant shade of red as I went on, "What are you?"

 

Immediately the air about her changed. She stiffened slightly and crossed her arms, "I'm a Fourth Singer," she announced proudly. She was way older than I thought. Fifteen.

 

"No offense, but you look like you're twelve," I said, hoping to get off the subject of years.

 

"I get that alot. Most people say it's because of this damned hair of mine. Not like I can change that." I chuckled softly at the sarcasm in her voice. Everybody knows a First year, or full Presenti, could change their appearance. If she really was a Fourth Singer, she'd be a Presenti in about four years. I crossed the room to the window and looked out over the grounds of Igai. The sun was begining to set around the pines which bordered the other wing. I looked at her full in the face, then glanced back out the window.

 

"My name's Timothy and, judging by where the sun is, you should probably make your way back to the other wing soon." An unexpected sigh escaped my chest, bringing with it the fresh spring air. Once in awhile it was nice to have someone to talk to who didn't ridicule you every moment of your life. I hadn't heard a friendly voice for years, and I was dreading the fact that this girl would have to leave soon.

 

She gave me a quick smile, as if reading my thoughts, "I probably should. I'll go when the sun is down and it's dark. Hopefully I can go unseen." At this her smile grew wider, as if she knew something I didn't.

 

My smile returned of it's own accord, "Do you know the way back?"

 

"Of course I do," then she added after a moment, "I come here everyday."