At first, no one really paid attention. A man walking to a stage was nothing unusual in Harbor Harmony Café. People performed here often, sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes passionately off-key. It was part of the charm.
But then Erik touched the guitar.
Just a gentle tap with two fingers. The wood pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat syncing itself to his. The café lights flickered for a moment, too softly for humans to think it was anything more than a quirk in the wiring.
Erik lifted the guitar from its stand and set it carefully beside the microphone.
Then he walked toward the piano.
It was an old upright model, polished but worn in places. Erik ran his palm across its surface. A soft vibration rippled through the instrument, tuning it from the inside out. The strings settled into perfect pitch with quiet, delicate twangs that only he could hear clearly.
To the humans nearby, it sounded like the piano simply breathed.
A whisper of sound, warm and comforting.
A few people looked up from their drinks.
"Is he setting up for a performance?" someone murmured.
"Maybe the morning open mic started early," another whispered.
Erik moved to the drums next.
The drumheads responded instantly to his presence, tightening to perfect tension. Cymbals shimmered with a faint hum, as if struck by invisible fingertips. He adjusted a stool, turned a snare slightly, then tapped it softly.
The tap echoed with clarity, filling the air like a drop of rain falling into still water.
Now more heads turned.
Even the barista paused mid-pour.
Erik felt their eyes on him. Not fear. Not confusion. Just curiosity and a growing sense of wonder. That was good. Humans were more comfortable when awe replaced uncertainty.
Death watched from her table, smiling quietly at his restraint. He was using his power, yes, but carefully. Gently. He was letting the instruments respond to him rather than forcing his will on them. Humans saw only a man making small adjustments. They could not see the invisible waves of resonance dancing through the stage like threads of light.
Erik stepped back, examining the three instruments he had arranged.
The piano, the guitar, the drums.
He intended to use them all.
Not separately. Together.
He raised his hand slightly, and the air answered him. Only a small movement, barely noticeable. A soft shift in the room's ambient vibration.
The microphone stand slid an inch closer to the guitar.
The piano bench straightened itself with a quiet scrape.
A drumstick rolled into place near the snare.
To the humans, it looked like an unusual coincidence.
To those who watched closely, it looked like magic.
A man near the counter blinked. "Did… did that bench just move on its own?"
His friend elbowed him lightly. "You need more coffee, man."
But the woman in the corner, the one Erik had noticed, finally lifted her eyes.
She stared at him with cautious curiosity, her loneliness pulling back just slightly, like a shadow momentarily stepping out of the light.
Erik felt the change instantly.
Good.
He stepped to the center of the stage, adjusting the microphone. His posture was calm. His expression gentle. His presence quiet but growing warmer by the second.
People were now openly watching him.
Whispers floated through the café.
"Who is he?"
"He looks like he knows what he's doing."
"Is he famous?"
"That piano, did it tune itself?"
Erik inhaled softly, letting the room settle.
He could feel their anticipation. Their curiosity. Their emotional resonance gathering like a soft hum that met his own.
Death leaned back in her chair, a pleased look on her face. "They are already responding to you," she whispered to herself.
Erik placed one hand on the piano lid, as though silently greeting an old friend. The air vibrated around him. Instruments waited. Humans fell quiet.
He did not play yet.
He only lifted his head and looked at the woman he wanted to cheer up.
For the first time, she looked back.
Her eyes locked onto his, uncertain but drawn in by something she could not explain.
Erik offered the smallest, gentlest smile.
A silent promise.
I am here. I hear you. This song will be for you.
And the café held its breath as he took his seat at the piano, preparing to begin.
__________
The room was silent.
Erik rested his fingers on the piano keys. The air held stillness, anticipation, and something softer that only he noticed. The woman in the corner, the one with the tired eyes, watched him with a quiet curiosity that masked a heavy sadness. Her expression barely shifted, yet Erik felt her emotions clearly.
A storm held behind a calm face.
He pressed the first note.
The sound slid through the café like a warm breeze. Soft, steady, kind. Eyes lifted from cups. Conversations died. Even the barista froze, holding a steaming pitcher mid-pour.
Erik played another note.
Then another.
The piano began to move with a life of its own, matching his heartbeat, rising gently then settling again. But Erik was not finished. He reached for the guitar with his free hand, strummed a low chord, and the entire stage responded.
The drums began to play on their own.
A slow rhythm at first, like footsteps approaching from far away. Then the cello behind him vibrated by itself, strings bowing without a visible hand. The guitar resonated in waves of sound, harmonizing with the piano.
People gasped.
"What is happening?"
"Are the instruments playing themselves?"
"No way. That is impossible."
Someone whispered with awe, "Is this magic?"
Far in the back, a young college student reached into his jacket pocket, slid out his phone, and began recording. Carefully. Secretly. But Lady Death saw it and smiled faintly. She did not stop him.
Some moments were meant to be captured.
Erik kept playing, but beneath the music, something else flowed from him. A vibration so precise, so delicate that only one person received it.
The woman.
Though she could not hear sound, Erik sent the song directly into her mind. Not as noise. Not as pressure. But as pure resonance. Emotion shaped into melody. A voice carried on waves of compassion she had never felt before.
Her eyes widened.
She did not understand how. She only felt something reaching her inner world, touching the part of her that had gone silent for far too long.
Erik began to sing.
The room held its breath.
His voice was deep but soft, carrying warmth and strength all at once. The lights seemed to brighten subtly around him as if drawn to the life in his voice.
He began with the first verse, pouring the words directly toward her.
(Song - For King & Country - Its Not Over Yet)
"They are inside your head
You got a voice that says
You won't get past this one
You won't win your freedom"
The woman blinked slowly.
Her hands, which had been clasped tightly together moments ago, loosened.
Erik glanced toward her without breaking rhythm. His voice deepened.
"It's like a constant war
And you want to settle that score
But you're bruised and beaten
And you feel defeated"
A soft gasp rippled through the crowd. They felt the meaning of the words, the honesty behind every note.
Erik looked at her once more.
This goes out to you.
"This goes out to the heaviest hearts"
The drums swelled. The guitar lifted. The piano danced beneath his hands.
Then the chorus hit.
"Oh, to everyone who's hit their limit
It's not over yet
It's not over ye-et
And even when you think you're finished
It's not over yet
It's not over ye-et"
Voices whispered among the listeners.
"This feels different."
"He is singing directly to someone."
"Who is he?"
"I feel like crying and I don't know why."
Erik continued, sending each note straight into the woman's mind, letting her experience what others only heard.
"Keep on fighting
Out of the dark
Into the light
It's not over
Hope is rising
Never give in
Never give up
It's not over
Yea-et-et, woah"
The woman's breath hitched. Her fingers trembled. She pressed a hand to her chest as the resonance wrapped around her like a warm embrace.
Erik shifted into the next verse, his voice brightening gently.
"Oh, game set match
It's time to put it in your past, oh
Feel the winter leavin'
It's redemption season"
Her eyes glistened.
She had not cried in years.
"Long live the young at heart
Here we are
Cheers to a brand new start
Here we are
We're revived and breathing
To live a life of freedom"
The café was utterly silent except for the instruments playing through the room like a living orchestra answering Erik's command.
People stared in awe.
"How is he doing that?"
"Is this a performance or a miracle?"
"This is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard."
Erik leaned into the chorus again, his voice warm as sunlight.
"Oh, to everyone who's hit their limit
It's not over yet
It's not over ye-et
And even when you think you're finished
It's not over yet
It's not over ye-et"
Across the room, one woman listened with her whole soul.
For the first time, the world felt less heavy.
He moved into the bridge, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Life is a race we run
So run till the race is won
Don't you ever give up
Here we are
Oh no never give up
Here we are"
Her lips parted slightly. Her heartbeat steadied. Her loneliness loosened its grip.
He lifted the café with the final chorus.
"Keep on fighting
Out of the dark
Into the light
It's not over
Hope is rising
Never give in
Never give up
It's not over"
The instruments swelled. Her eyes shone. Erik's voice wrapped around her like a lifeline.
"Yea-et-et, woah
Yea-et-et, woah
Yea-et-et, woah
Yea-et-et, woah"
The final note lingered, soft and warm, vibrating through her bones like something familiar she had forgotten existed.
When the music faded, the entire café remained silent.
People stared.
The recording phone trembled slightly in the man's hand.
Death watched Erik with pride.
And the lonely woman in the corner, who had felt unheard her entire life, found herself hearing something for the very first time.
Not through ears.
Through hope.
The café remained silent for several long seconds after the final chord faded. People stared. Some blinked hard, as if waking from a dream. One or two quietly wiped their eyes.
But the woman in the corner… she moved.
Her chair scraped softly against the floor as she stood. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of shock and confusion and something fragile she could not hide. Her hands trembled as she reached for her jacket, and she looked toward the front door like someone trying to escape a place that had suddenly grown too bright.
Death noticed immediately.
Erik did too.
She took a single step toward the exit.
Erik took two toward her.
He moved quietly, respectfully, never blocking her path but placing himself where she would naturally pass. He could feel her emotional vibrations sharply now. She was overwhelmed. Not frightened. Just… unfamiliar with the sensation of hope warming a place inside her she had long abandoned.
She glanced up at him. He did not speak.
Words would not reach her. But resonance would.
He placed a hand gently over his heart, a universal gesture of sincerity, and gave her a small nod. His eyes softened, the waves within them slowing in a calm rhythmic pattern meant to soothe.
She froze.
Her breath hitched as the faint echo of his song lingered in her mind, like a warm memory refusing to vanish. She had never experienced sound this way. Never felt something reach through her silence and touch her so directly.
She swallowed hard, confusion flickering in her gaze.
Why did she feel understood by a stranger?
Erik raised his hand just slightly. Not touching her. Not pulling her back. Just offering a presence.
A gentle request. Please wait.
She looked at his hand, then at his face. There was no pity in his expression. No judgment. Only a quiet empathy she did not know how to accept.
Her fingers twitched.
Erik tilted his head, a silent question.
Are you all right?
Her gaze wavered. No one had asked her that in a long time.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Words felt useless, even impossible. But Erik did not push. He simply remained there, an anchor of calm in a room that still vibrated faintly with the memory of his music.
The barista whispered to a coworker, "Is he… talking to her?"
"Looks like it," they murmured.
Death watched from her seat, observing the moment with quiet approval. Erik was not intruding. He was not overstepping. He was offering what he had always needed himself.
Someone willing to reach out first.
The woman finally managed a small movement with her hand. A hesitant gesture toward the stage, as if asking him silently:
Did you do that for me?
Erik nodded once.
Her breath left her in a soft, shaky exhale.
She looked away for a moment, blinking rapidly, then looked back at him. A question lived in her eyes, though she could not form it. Why? Why would a stranger notice her pain? Why would someone sing a song that felt carved from her own scars?
Erik placed a hand over his heart again.
This time, he let a faint, warm vibration radiate from him. Only she felt it. A silent reassurance.
You are not alone.
She stared at him, stunned.
She took a slow step toward him. Not away. Not to flee. But closer, like someone drawn to a flame not to be burned, but to finally feel warmth.
Her jacket slipped from her fingers without her noticing.
Erik bent to pick it up. When he handed it back to her, their fingers brushed.
A spark of resonance passed between them. Not a power, nor spell, just recognition.
Something inside her, guarded and wounded, flinched, then softened.
She accepted the jacket silently.
Erik offered her a small, gentle smile.
Not romantic. Not intimate.
Human.
A smile that said:
You matter. I see you. Stay if you want to.
Her lips parted, as if she might speak. Or sign. Or run. She did not know which.
But she did not leave.
She stood in front of him, searching his face like someone trying to understand how a stranger had reached inside her isolation and found something worth saving.
Erik stepped slightly to the side and extended one arm in a welcoming gesture toward the café. A silent invitation.
You do not have to go.
She hesitated.
Then, slowly… she nodded.
Erik's eyes warmed.
And together, without pressure, without fear, they walked back toward the table where Lady Death awaited.
__________
__________
Hey guys, hope you enjoyed it.
Earlier today I had a comment where he was not happy with the direction I took my character Erik. I dont know personally if i did my character dirty. Honestly let me know if you guys like the way he is and progressing or should he have been some enigmatic being that people can't even comprehend and or talk to because of his origin.
Anyway sorry for that, just a little disappointed is all.
As always any questions or concerns leave a comment
If you like the fanfic so far add it to your collections and send over some powerstones.