The applause for Jack and Reina's song lasted a good minute. People cheered. Clapped. And so even approached to offer congratulations.
Jack simply nodded. With a slight curve to his lips. He put his guitar back to his Spatial Bag.
Reina was dazzling and composed as usual. She accepted the praise with graceful smiles. Her long black hair swayed as she inclined her head.
The two Symphony Tokens floated patiently. Waiting. Jack reached out and took his. It felt cool, smooth, and pulsed with a faint energy. Reina took hers. Mirroring his action.
"Looks like we're in, Love." Jack stated. Tucking the token into a pocket.
Reina smiled. "Indeed, Dear. Your song is amazing after all."
Jack just chuckled. He didn't think that the song they had just perford was that great. It was alright. Decent and catchy. Useful for noisy situation like now. But amazing? Not really.
...
They found a relatively clear spot a little ways from the main throng. Near a cluster of other hopefuls already setting up their temporary camps.
Jack pulled out a compressed tent kit from his inventory. A marvel of steamrune engineering. And with a few clicks and a hiss of steam, it expanded into a kind of self-erecting pavilion. Made of durable, weather-resistant fabric.
As Jack set up a campfire, Reina unpacked a simple cooking pot.
"Good performance!" A gruff voice called out.
A broad-shouldered man with a lute case strapped to his back approached their camp. He had a weathered face and tired eyes. "Na's Barnaby. Heard you two play. Made my old heart ache a bit, in a good way."
Jack offered a curt nod. "Jack. This is my wife, Reina. Thanks. You here for the blessing too?"
Barnaby chuckled. "Aye. Everyone is. Tried my hand seventeen years ago. My lute playing was still rough back then. Not a single statue moved." He gestured vaguely towards the floating garden. "Hope it'll be different this ti."
Reina offered Barnaby a cup of steaming tea she had quickly brewed. "Well, music is complex. Know what quality they actually judge?" She asked. "Originality? Complexity? Specific genre?"
Barnaby took the tea. And then shook his head. "No idea. Nobody got the blessing last ti. No one receive any blessing for the last three centuries they said."
He settled down nearby. Watching the continuous stream of musicians and singers.
The afternoon passed slowly. The usually desolate Naless Valley was now a vibrant community. Musicians tried their luck at the satyr statue. So with more success than others.
Transcendent hawkers wandered through the crowd. Selling sheet music, good luck charms, and many strange things.
Jack and Reina observed. Sotis sharing anecdotes with those nearby. They were mostly listening though. To the people attempting their luck with the satyr statue.
Jack found it interesting how many different approaches these transcendent people took to music. From the deeply technical to the utterly raw. From pure mundane music to magic infused songs.
He noted the varied reactions. The genuine joy of a successful token acquisition. The quiet despair of failure. The persistent determination for retrying with different songs.
He saw a young woman with a harp. Her fingers trembling as she played. She barely held an audience. But her token materialized anyway.
Then, an elderly man with a powerful baritone voice belted out an opera aria. Drawing a large crowd. Yet no token appeared for him.
The criteria remained a mystery. Adding to the allure. Jack concluded that subjective emotional impact was key. Not just technical skill or popularity. But a true connection.
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As the sun began its descent from its peak, a hum started. A low, resonant thrum that vibrated through the valley floor. All conversations died. All eyes turned skyward.
The floating landmass of the Symphony Garden began to glow. A soft, continuous white light pulsed from every part of the floating land. The barrier shimred. Becoming more translucent.
Then, a voice, amplified by unseen magic, bood across the valley. It was clear and devoid of any particular emotion. Like a well-calibrated announcent system.
"The Symphony Garden is now open. Holders of Symphony Tokens, please prepare yourselves. Entry will be by teleportation. Individuals who earned their tokens separately will be teleported individually. Groups who earned their tokens together will be teleported as a group. Your return will be within ten minutes, regardless of success."
A collective gasp went through the crowd.
Then, the first person, a nervous-looking bard, vanished in a flash of white light. Five minutes later, he reappeared. Looking pale and utterly dejected. He quickly gathered his belongings and left. Ignoring all questions.
Another flash. A trio of singers disappeared. Exactly seven minutes later, they were back. Their shoulders slumped. Their faces were grim. They huddled together. Whispering furiously. Before packing up and stomping away.
This pattern continued. Person after person. Group after group. They were whisked away only to return. Without exception, all looked defeated.
A few tried to explain what happened inside. But their voices were choked with frustration or sorrow.
"The statues... they didn't even twitch." One woman cried. Burying her face in her hands.
Another simply shook his head. Muttering. "It's impossible. Nothing moves them."
Hope began to drain from the valley. The initial excitent was replaced by a somber resignation. The cheers for token holders turned into sympathetic murmurs. The sun dipped lower. Casting long, dramatic shadows. The air grew colder.
"They're all failing." Reina observed. A slight frown on her beautiful face. "It seems far more difficult than earning the token."
"Naturally." Jack replied. His gaze was fixed on the glowing garden above. "Let's see if our performance can achieve that."
His mind was already running through the structure of the song he prepared. The precise chord changes. The nuances of the lody he had composed...
He had spent hours perfecting it. Not just musically. But emotionally. Customizing it so that Reina could resonate with the content of the lyric. And show the extent of her incredible voice range.
The teleportation flashes continued. Still no successful trial taker.
As the sun started to dip on the western horizon, a white light enveloped Jack and Reina. Rune, caught in the sa flash, was pulled along with them.
The sensation was akin to being stretched thin. Then instantly snapped back into place. Quite a familiar sensation for the two.
They were teleported. One mont, they were in the barren valley. The next, they stood on perfectly manicured grass. Bathed in the soft, ethereal glow. Emanating from the seven goddess statues arranged in a wide semicircle before them.
The garden was breathtaking. Colorful flowers. Luminous in the twilight sky. Blood in exquisite patterns.
Graceful, ancient-looking trees with glowing leaves stood sentinel at the edges of the space. A clear, artistic pond rippled gently in one side. Reflecting the statues above it like a wrinkled mirror.
The air there was fresh. Scented with a hundred floral perfus. And carried a faint, almost inaudible lody. Like the distant whisper of a symphony. No sound of the valley reached them here. Only the serene serenade of the garden.
The seven goddess statues were magnificent. Each was carved from a different, shimring white stone. Depicting a woman in various poses of musical or artistic expression.
One held a lyre. Another one played a flute. A couple of them seed to be singing. Three others were dancing. Their faces were serene. Their eyes were closed in eternal contemplation. They exuded an aura of profound grace and ancient power.
"They're even more impressive up close, Dear." Reina murmured. Her eyes were wide with awe.
Jack nodded. Already pulling out his custom-built guitar. "Let's give them a proper show, Love."
He gave Reina a reassuring glance. Then settled into a comfortable stance. Rune perched on his shoulder. As usual.
Jack plucked a string. Testing the resonance. The sound was pure. Untainted. Echoing softly in the pristine air.
He looked at the seven silent judges. Then at Reina, who nodded at him. He closed his eyes for a mont. Letting the lody coalesce in his mind. Feeling the emotion he wanted to convey.
Then, his fingers danced. In a proficiency he could never achieve in his past life.
The opening notes of another one of his original song, the 'Dream World' filled the garden. Unlike his previous 'Valley of Joy', this one was a jazzy, lancholic lody.
It was infused with a poignant yearning. The guitar work was intricate. A blend of bluesy bends and delicate arpeggios. Creating a soundscape both sorrowful and hopeful.
Reina took a breath. Her chest was rising and falling gently. Her voice, soft and breathy, yet possessed of an ethereal clarity, began to weave through the guitar's intricate lody.
She poured her own past. Her own loneliness and longing. All into every word. Her voice was like liquid moonlight. Aching with unfulfilled wishes. Yet shimring with the faint promise of a better tomorrow.
"Who would listen to a silent cry,
Beneath the cold, uncaring sky?
No sunbeam warms, no gentle hand,
Just phantom touch in barren land.
Shadows stretch, they mimic chains,
Whispering fears in the silent rains.
This tired heart, it beats so low,
Where does a forgotten spirit go?"
...
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