I trudged down the busy street, practically a walking logistical miracle as I balanced the two massive baskets… one overflowing with soy sauce, vinegar, and garlic, and the other bulging with our newly acquired crimson and blue fabrics.
"Look at you go, Eirene! The great hunter, defeated by groceries! If the Immoral Knights could see you now, they'd die of laughter instead of your blades!" Plasma's voice echoed in my head, dripping with dramatic amusement.
I completely ignored the mental noise pollution, keeping my single jade-green eye fixed forward while Elicia's protective magic wrapped around me like a cool breeze. But as we navigated past a group of steam-fitters, my eyes suddenly locked onto a small, cozy instrument shop tucked between two brick buildings. It was a charming little stall, its storefront completely crammed with polished acoustic guitars, wooden drums, and various wind instruments.
And there, hanging right in the center of the display, was a beautifully crafted wooden violin.
The moment I saw it, the bustling noise of the 1st District seemed to completely fade away. A deep, powerful rush of memory from my past life on Earth washed over me. Long before I ever held a blade, wore crimson wings, or fought for survival in this world, I was just a regular human kid. I remembered the gentle, patient voice of my late mother, who had spent countless afternoons teaching me how to properly hold a bow and place my fingers on the strings. I remembered using that exact skill to play hymns, contributing to the Sunday mass back when I was just a dedicated little altar server at our local church.
A profound, thoroughly human wave of nostalgia tightened my chest. I stopped dead in my tracks, my crimson wings giving a soft, wistful flutter.
I turned my head toward Elicia, my deadpan completely slipping to reveal a rare, wide-eyed look of pure fascination.
"Big sister, let's go over there."
Elicia followed my gaze to the charming little stall, a warm, nostalgic look softening her features.
"Ah, that's an instrument shop, Are you fascinated by instruments, little Ren? You know, back then, long before you were born, I used to pick up old metal pots and pans and beat them together to make a drum back at our home in Town Allure. Our parents nearly lost their minds from the noise. But I quickly realized I wasn't exactly fascinated by drums. Still, if you want to look, sure! Let's go there." big sister said, her crimson eyes twinkling as she looked down at me.
We pushed through the small shop's entrance, the gentle tinkling of a brass chime announcing our arrival. The cozy space smelled beautifully of aged spruce wood, rosin, and polish.
Behind the counter, a middle-aged lady with a colorful scarf tied around her hair looked up.
"Oh, greetings! How can I help you…"
She stopped mid-sentence, her jaw dropping slightly as her eyes darted from Elicia's high-class academy robes to my distinctive, uncovered face and the massive crimson blood wings resting neatly against my kirtle.
Just like the carpenter and the weaver before her, she instantly recognized me from the morning papers.
"Oh my goodness... you're Eirene! The hero who saved the outer territories!"
I stepped forward, balancing the heavy grocery and fabric baskets on my arms as my crimson wings gave a polite, thoroughly human flutter.
"Greetings, ma'am, I am looking for a violin. The absolute best one you have in stock, please."
"A violin? Really, Eirene?! You're going to play classical music in a rowdy industrial tavern? What's the playlist, 'Symphony for Overcooked Garlic'? You're a vampire hunter, not a concert maestro! If you play a wrong note, my immortal soul will suffer eternal psychic damage!" Plasma's voice exploded inside my head, practically howling with theatrical laughter.
I completely tuned out the mental noise pollution, keeping my single jade-green eye fixed eagerly on the instrument wall.
The shopkeeper's eyes lit up with absolute delight at my request.
"Woah! I didn't know our local hero was a violinist! In fact, violin players are incredibly rare in this entire region. Most folks around here just stick to the brass horns or the tavern drums."
She eagerly scurried to a velvet-lined display case at the very back of the shop, carefully lifting out a stunning, deep-amber wooden violin. The varnish caught the ambient light beautifully, and the horsehair bow was perfectly tensioned.
"Here is our absolute best piece so far, you've done so much to protect the people of this kingdom... do you mind if we just give it to you for free? It would be an absolute honor to know a hero is playing our craftsmanship." the lady said proudly, walking over and gently presenting the instrument to me like a sacred artifact. She smiled warmly, her eyes full of genuine gratitude.
I carefully handed the heavy basket of crimson and blue fabrics over to Elicia, who eagerly caught it with a curious blink. With my right arm free, I gently accepted the stunning amber violin and its bow, holding the instrument with a delicate, practiced reverence that felt entirely natural despite the decades since I had last touched one.
"Thank you very much, your craftsmanship will be highly respected in our new establishment."
The shopkeeper beamed with pride, waving her hands dismissively.
"Oh, think nothing of it, Eirene! It's just so nice knowing you, and it's an honor to help out. Best of luck with your new place!"
"Oh, great, now she has a musical weapon of mass destruction, If you start playing depressing vampire sonatas at midnight, I am legally evicting myself from your consciousness." Plasma groaned inside my head, though his voice lacked its usual bite, sounding almost intrigued.
I ignored him, safely tucking the violin case under my arm as we stepped back out into the bustling, sunlit streets of the industrial district. Elicia kept her hand rested on my shoulder, her borrowed rings pulsing with light as she maintained the cool, soothing barrier of sun-protection magic around me.
She tilted her silver-haired head, looking down at the instrument case with a mixture of awe and utter confusion.
"Little Ren... do you actually know how to play a violin? We lived in the same house in Town Allure for years, and I don't think I've ever seen you touch a stringed instrument in your entire life. When did you learn this?"
A cold sweat threatened to break out on my neck. I absolutely could not explain the intricate details of my past life on Earth… telling her I used to be an altar server playing hymns in a modern church across another dimension would sound like absolute madness, even for a world filled with magic and vampires.
I looked up at her, my single jade-green eye blinking once in a perfect, innocent deadpan as I crafted a seamless, human excuse.
"Yes, big sister, during my various travels and long nights in the outer territories, I managed to acquire a basic manual and spent my off-hours practicing by myself. It is a highly efficient method for keeping one's finger dexterity sharp." I lied smoothly, my quiet voice completely steady
Elicia stared at me for a moment, totally buying the explanation before letting out a proud, melodious chuckle.
"Self-taught? My goodness, Ren, is there anything you can't do? First master-class culinary experiments, and now classical music! I can't wait to hear you play once we get those tables set up."
I let out a soft hum of agreement, a genuine sense of peace settling into my chest as we finally approached the doors of Lot 42, ready to officially open our new chapter.
The heavy wooden doors of Lot 42 creaked shut behind us, locking out the roaring din of the industrial district. Inside, the empty tavern was a blank canvas of clean, scrubbed floorboards and bare walls. Before the carpenter could arrive with our 13 oak tables, I decided it was time to establish a baseline of proof.
I carefully handed the heavy basket of adobo ingredients over to Elicia once again. She caught it with a bewildered blink, her crimson eyes tracking my movements as I stepped into the center of the vacant room.
"Watch me," I said, my quiet voice carrying an absolute, unwavering certainty.
I unlatched the velvet-lined case and lifted the stunning amber violin. Tucking it firmly beneath my chin, I raised the bow. For a split second, Plasma actually shut up inside my head, matching the breathless silence of the room. I closed my single jade-green eye, let out a slow, thoroughly human breath, and let years of muscle memory from my past life on Earth take complete control.
The bow touched the strings.
A rich, passionate wave of sound erupted into the empty tavern, the melody dancing across the invisible staves of the room like a living paragraph of pure emotion. I opened the piece in a haunting A minor, drawing a long, sustained half note A that trembled with a deep, soulful vibrato. The acoustics of the abandoned building caught the sound beautifully, amplifying the raw, introspective weight of the music.
Without breaking the flow, my fingers danced up the fingerboard, executing a rapid, seamless run of beamed sixteenth notes… B-C-D-E… connected by graceful, elegant slurs. The music soared, then gently descended into a lyrical quarter-note phrase, F-E-D, that practically sighed with a heavy, nostalgic longing.
Elicia stood completely paralyzed near the doorway, her jaw slightly slack as she watched my crimson blood wings expand slightly, gently swaying in perfect time with the 4/4 rhythm. I applied a subtle, artistic rubato, stretching the time just enough to let the notes breathe. Beneath the main melody, I struck the lower strings, letting an open-string drone on A and E resonate through the floorboards, punctuating the air with powerful double stops.
The dynamics swelled dramatically from a soft, whispering piano to a booming, resonant forte. I shifted my left hand high up the neck, building the tension until the violin cried out a soaring, brilliant high G that pierced the very ceiling. With one final, tender stroke of the bow, the high note resolved perfectly back to the tonic A, leaving a beautiful, echoing silence in its wake.
I slowly lowered the bow, my chest rising and falling with a deep breath as I opened my eye.
Elicia was staring at me as if I had just cast a legendary, high-tier spell right in front of her. The adobo basket in her arms was tilting dangerously as her hands trembled in sheer shock.
"...Alright, I admit it, That was actually terrifyingly beautiful, Eirene. You win." Plasma said
Elicia stood completely frozen for a few seconds, her crimson eyes wide as saucers. Suddenly, she snapped out of her trance, nearly dropping the adobo basket as she clapped her hands together in absolute delight.
"Little Ren, that was magnificent! The depth, the emotion, the way you handled those double stops! How on earth did you learn to play like that just from a basic manual?!" she practically squealed, her usual dignified academy posture melting away into pure, unadulterated sisterly pride.
A massive wave of warmth hit my chest as I carefully lowered the amber violin. I desperately wanted to tell her the truth… that my late mother on Earth had spent years patiently correcting my posture, and that I had spent my youth playing those exact notes to a packed church congregation. But the multiverse logic was simply too complicated for a busy afternoon, so I chose to maintain my engineered narrative.
I looked up at her, my single jade-green eye blinking once in a perfect, innocent deadpan as my crimson wings gave a casual, humble flutter.
"Like I said, big sister. Self-taught. practice yields highly good."
Elicia let out a melodious laugh, shaking her head.
"You are an absolute box of mysteries, Eirene!"
"Yeah, a box of mysteries wrapped in an absolute lie! But hey, I'll let it slide because that performance was a masterpiece. Next time, play something with more drums!" Plasma chimed in inside my head, snickering loudly.
'Be quiet," I shot back mentally, carefully packing the violin away into its velvet case.
Right on cue, a loud, heavy rumbling sound echoed from the street outside. We walked over to the front windows and looked out. As expected, a massive flatbed wagon from the industrial district's carpenter workshop had just pulled up right in front of Lot 42. Stacked high on the curb was our beautiful, freshly sanded mountain of 13 oak tables and 52 matching wooden chairs, completely ready to be hauled inside.
"Well, our infrastructure has arrived. Let's get to work."