Two voices, two souls, one song in perfect unison. That was how the song was meant to be sung. He was Music Meister with sweat sticking his wild hair to his wan face, and he was Ragdoll with his thin hands dripping blood onto the dark stone, and both bodies seemed so puny compared to the greater grandeur.
The world was a cacophony of noises and he heard each one clearly. Water moved through the trees around them as they burst forth into fruit and flower simultaneously. The stone beneath their feet rang with the sound of beating fists and insect feet skittering for safety. The heartbeats of the acolytes and of the Six pounded clear drumbeats against the rasp of the air flowing into their lungs.
The power of a god. The power to see beyond what was there and create what had not yet been. The bangles melted from Billy's wrists and flowed onto the dais floor.
What do you know of music? Not sung but not quite spoken from two pairs of lips. You who seek only control. You who would lock it away from the world to serve your selfish purposes and reject all that humanity has sought to create. You do not understand the true purpose of music. It is to communicate passion from one soul to another, to bind people together and increase their joy a thousandfold. The song was never meant for men such as you.
The man babbled meaningless words lost on the wind, and Billy took no heed of them. Red flowed around his shoulders, speckled with stars. Did you think there was only one, at the beginning of time's measurement, to sing in isolation to the dead rocks? There were two voices, you fool!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2013-05-26 02:06 pm (UTC)The world was a cacophony of noises and he heard each one clearly. Water moved through the trees around them as they burst forth into fruit and flower simultaneously. The stone beneath their feet rang with the sound of beating fists and insect feet skittering for safety. The heartbeats of the acolytes and of the Six pounded clear drumbeats against the rasp of the air flowing into their lungs.
The power of a god. The power to see beyond what was there and create what had not yet been. The bangles melted from Billy's wrists and flowed onto the dais floor.
What do you know of music? Not sung but not quite spoken from two pairs of lips. You who seek only control. You who would lock it away from the world to serve your selfish purposes and reject all that humanity has sought to create. You do not understand the true purpose of music. It is to communicate passion from one soul to another, to bind people together and increase their joy a thousandfold. The song was never meant for men such as you.
The man babbled meaningless words lost on the wind, and Billy took no heed of them. Red flowed around his shoulders, speckled with stars. Did you think there was only one, at the beginning of time's measurement, to sing in isolation to the dead rocks? There were two voices, you fool!