Dason had a piano of his very own on the 5th floor. But he had no intention of using the grand piano.
Because of its unusual appearance, the knight might suspect there was some strange trick to the piano.
For that reason, Dason decided to use the family's piano, the one used for music lessons.
"You may play here."
Kemen led Dason and the knight from the Montere region to the music room.
"Oh......."
The moment they stepped into the music room, it was thick with an antique air. Golden candlesticks lined the walls of stacked red brick, and the wooden floor, keeping the traces of long years, gave off a soft luster.
'This is a music room? Not an art gallery?'
A beautiful fresco was painted on the ceiling, vividly depicting angels playing lyres against a blue sky.
Swish.
Just then, Kemen raised a finger. Its tip pointed toward where the piano was.
"Young Master. The piano is over there."
The very center of the music room.
There stood a majestic piano. Made of black wood, the piano stood out for the beauty of its antique curves.
"It is one of the instruments the family had specially made."
An ornate dragon pattern was intricately carved on the piano's lid, and it showed off a commanding form, as if it were the crest of the Count's family.
"Do you truly think you can win me over with a performance?"
The knight's face was full of seriousness.
"If you think that being a knight makes me ignorant of music, you are mistaken. Do not forget that we, too, have hearts capable of feeling and understanding."
His voice carried the nuance of a warning not to take him lightly. One eyebrow rose slightly, creating a curious tension.
"From the requiems that console the souls of soldiers on the battlefield, to the lively pieces that heighten the festive mood in a banquet hall. The range of music I have heard is considerably wide."
The knight spoke with force, as if to stress that he was by no means a man who knew nothing of music. Pride could be felt in his manner, which hinted that he had knowledge of music and an eye for it.
"To put it another way, it means that I will be a demanding audience right now. A light tune meant to pander to noble tastes will hardly make me so much as twitch an eyebrow."
"......."
"If you lack the confidence, you may stop here and I will say nothing. I will simply tell the other knights that nothing happened."
The knight shrugged as if indifferent. In his sneering expression and swaggering posture, his contempt for Dason showed openly.
But Dason faced the knight with an unruffled face. If anything, he made an offer to the man who had been insulting him all this while.
"Listen to my playing without prejudice. And judge nothing but the skill itself."
There was not a trace of discomfort in Dason's voice.
It was a perfectly calm and even tone, in which not the least agitation could be felt.
"If I play terribly, give me the review I deserve. You can even spread the word and let everyone know just how crappy the young master's skills were."
Dason was asking the knight to set aside his feelings about Dason and coolly judge his ability alone.
"The way you look only at your opponent's skill in a sparring match."
At an offer that was both challenging and dignified, the knight could not help being flustered.
He had hoped Dason would fly into a rage at his barbed words and storm out, and yet Dason was reacting in exactly the opposite way.
'Is it an act? Or is he genuinely this composed?'
However he looked at it, the expression was too natural to be called an act. The ease he sensed at the corners of Dason's lightly smiling mouth did not look like pretense at all.
After treating them however he pleased all this time, now he was asking for a fair judgment of his playing. Faced with a change he could not understand, the knight could only frown.
"Understood. I will give you an objective judgment."
But as his stiff, hardened expression showed, what he felt inside was entirely different.
He was set on never acknowledging Dason's playing, however splendid it might be. He had nodded because his anger got the better of him, but in truth he did not want to offer a single word of praise.
Having heard the knight's frosty answer, Dason walked lightly up to the piano.
The knight's gaze prickled at his back, but he paid it no mind. He simply sat deep on the black bench, lowered his head, and laid his hands on the keys.
"Hoo......."
A still serenity could be felt in Dason as he breathed out slowly and took a deep breath.
No trace could be found of the pressure of having to move someone.
There was only the humble bearing of a performer who meant to become one with the notes and melt his soul into the tune.
'A requiem, huh.'
This time, he made up his mind to play a requiem honoring soldiers fallen in battle. He wanted to offer a melody both solemn and plaintive, as if consoling their souls and praying for their repose.
The heavy first note of the 3rd movement of Chopin's Piano Sonata No. 2, the 'Funeral March', rang out.
Duum.......
A feast of weighty low notes created a solemn atmosphere.
As if calling to mind a row of coffins of the war dead, it seemed that a procession of mourning for them was flowing from the piano.
Rather than show off dazzling technique, he concentrated on melting deep, restrained emotion into it. Dason pressed the keys cleanly, so as to express in full the grim resolve and sorrow befitting a dirge.
A reverence for music could be glimpsed in his eyes, which had turned quite serious. With a precise tempo and control of dynamics that did not waver an inch, he brought out the emotional line of the piece.
"......."
"......."
Kemen and the knight were overwhelmed by Dason's playing and stopped breathing. The weighty melody made them close their eyes and listen without meaning to.
They had been drawn in at once by the grim melody of the Funeral March flowing from the piano. Sorrow and longing showed on the faces of the two men, who had quietly lowered their eyelids.
In their hearts flickered the images of comrades who had fallen on the battlefield. Dason's playing captured that ache all too nakedly.
Dun...... dun-dun!
Dason's playing went on at an endlessly slow tempo. Kemen and the knight, without opening their closed eyes, were feeling the music with their ears alone.
The knight's fist, a rough hand clenched around something, trembled violently. His collarbone, jutting up between the plates of his hard armor, revealed the movement of rigidly tensed muscle.
At the edge of his tightly shut lips, a wet bloodstain had formed.
But he never let his sorrow show. If anything, he seemed to be clenching his teeth and struggling to hold his emotions down. Instead, Dason's piano poured out all that grief and pain in his place.
In each slow note was dissolved the heavy death of the soldiers who had perished on the battlefield.
The sorrow and remorse of losing comrades, and even the guilt of the one who survived. The tangled feelings the knight must have harbored flowed out through the keys with piercing force.
His eyes reddening, the knight let out a deep breath. He felt the emotions he had held down slowly ease.
As if throwing open a box of wounds buried long before, Dason's playing dug into the deepest part of the knight. It stirred the longing for his comrades that had been sleeping there.
The knight, his eyes quietly closed, was absorbed in the dirge. And the teardrops flowing along with the performance soaked his chest. He could feel Dason's sincerity, melted into that plaintive melody.
Dun...... dun...... duuuun.
The long span of 8 minutes passed in the blink of an eye. Before they knew it, the last note of the piece was flowing from the piano.
"Hoo."
The moment the performance ended, a long sigh slipped from between Dason's lips. A deep emotion could be felt in his playing, into which he seemed to have ground his very soul.
Beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead began to run down. The sweat, pouring like a waterfall, seemed to prove the passion he had poured into the piece.
"You have truly worked hard, Young Master."
Kemen came over and greeted him courteously. As he did, he held out a white handkerchief with a slight smile.
Dason gave a grateful smile and accepted the handkerchief. The lingering echo of the performance could be felt in his touch as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
His flushed cheeks were burning red, but there was a curious relief in Dason's expression. No doubt it came from the satisfaction of having splendidly carried off a piece fit to send shivers down the spine.
Swish.......
Having wiped off his sweat, Dason turned his eyes to the knight.
His performance done, Dason quietly asked the knight.
"How was it, my playing?"
No pride in his skill, nor anything like self-satisfaction, could be found in his voice.
There was only a humble musician who simply wondered what the audience that had heard him play thought.
The knight closed his eyes for a moment and sank into thought. When he quietly raised his eyelids, complicated emotions were crossing in his gaze.
"The evil deeds you have committed, Young Master, can never be forgiven."
In truth, he was a petty, small-minded man. A man of a narrow nature who could not easily shake off the resentment left in a corner of his heart. The knight himself knew this fault of his well.
At first, he had vowed never to lend Dason a helping hand, whatever piece he played.
"However......."
The knight hesitated as he went on. A whisper slipped out between his tightly shut lips.
"I cannot help but acknowledge it. Truly, it was a splendid performance. There is a curious power in your music, Young Master. One that seizes the heart of the listener......."
The emotion in his eyes was genuine. It told of a resonance that had welled up from deep within and pierced his heart.
"Before music, my prejudice and resentment can only make me ashamed. I apologize for having misjudged you, Young Master, with my narrow views."
Now the knight's voice was filled with respect for the performance. And a look of penitence, regret for his own mistaken attitude, could be glimpsed as well.
"I give you my word. I will do everything in my power to obtain the sheet music for you. I may not be able to forgive you completely, Young Master, but that performance, at least, will stay deep within me, I think."
The knight pledged it in a firm tone. As if answering the emotion Dason's music had given him, he promised his help in all sincerity.
That night, the knight returned to his hometown to obtain the sheet music Dason needed.
And.......
"Young Master! The alchemist has arrived."
When a week had passed.
The piano for the Spirit of Music arrived.