All We Had Is Gone

“Breathe in and welcome life.

It’s the only thing we have left.”

Strings cried out in lonely abandon. Clicking cracks whispered in isolation as Sayane tapped her foot. Fingers twirled and turned, pulling strings into different directions that shifted their notes and extended their resonance. With one hand, she carried the support notes. With the other, she blended in standalone accents. All the while, her eyes were closed.

Conducting and singing took all of her focus, so she sent all of her energy to her heart as it called out for help.

“Breathe and remember the days

Warm memories that were torn away.

Try to remember my voice.

Come back and sit with me for another day.”

Around the room, new strings appeared. Every being in the room had a single strand that drifted out from their chests and slowly made their way towards the child, who was silently lying in agony.

“For now, sleep in peace and feel this grace.”

Tears gathered in Sayane’s eyes as she focused on the burning sensation that was building in her stomach. Without even opening her eyes, she knew the audience was helping her. What she could not see was the multitude of glowing yellow strings that were slowly moving towards her feet while dancing and pulsing in sync with her music.

Somber plucks of synthetic harp strands spoke in ancient sounds that filled the room with a feeling of loss. Judgement, rejection, condemnation, hate, loss. All of it moved through the room as the beings felt their rage towards The Silence lifting in temporary release for the sake of this sickly child. Soft beats of footfall created a muted, quiet drumming effect. Sayane sang out simple harmonies.

The strands all converged into a single string, which rose, then dove into the little girl’s open mouth. Pain unlike any yet felt moved through Sayane’s body. It was dull, but all-encompassing. The pureness of it almost broke her focus, and her hands tensed in strain, sending a tragic, haunting fling of sound into the air.

“Sleep till you find a way back to me.

When you awake, this is where I will be.

Until then,

Maybe we could have a few good dreams.

Reminisce on what we used to be…”

Quiet, melancholy picks of individual violins echoed out into the darkness. A single tear fell from Echo’s face down onto his daughter as he pulled her close. Now Sayane felt a rush of strength, and she held up her open hands to build the intensity of the sounds.

“Remember the sounds of the whistling trees

Sights of the dancing grass

Cold breath on the first winter freeze

Every gentle moment that ever came to pass.

Come back and see them again with me.”

By now, Echo was sobbing. A single glow built in the child’s chest, and Sayane felt it in her own breast. It was gnawing, hateful, heavy. Flinching muscles almost threw off her sound, but Sayane clenched down to endure. She knew this was the sickness and she needed to pull it from the child.

All around her, the hundreds of glowing strings began to glow with more intensity and pull tight, as though they were helping rip the sickness from the child’s chest.

“Sleep till you find a way back to me.

When you awake, this is where I will be.

Until then,

Maybe we could have a few good dreams.

Reminisce on what we used to be…”

The pain grew, but the strings pulled tighter and tighter, wenching the sickness from the girl in somber unity. In her own soul, Sayane could feel the sickness leaving her body. She could feel it becoming lighter.

“All we had may be gone.

But I still have you.

And that would be enough

For me to get through

This lost world

Where all we had is gone.

All we had is gone.

All we had is gone.

But I still have you.”

Sounds built to crescendo. Hearing the rising strings that she herself was controlling brought Sayane a melancholy joy she’d never known. All those years in her first life, she was never good at instruments. The constant pressure to learn something caused her to stumble and fail again and again. Yet here she was, completely in sync with this foreign device she had only discovered a few days ago. It was as though her very thoughts and heart were in harmony with the instrument.

Because of that, she was conducting a broken symphony that was maybe about to physically heal a little child. No matter how much it was draining and hurting, Sayane pressed on. She had the support of the entire audience. She would not let their effort go to waste.

Sayane pulled her arms in, then threw them out as her head lifted and her eyes finally opened. The hundreds of strings slacked in anticipation, then ripped upwards. There was a rush of pain that tore through Sayane’s chest and throat as the child choked and gasped in shock. All the while, the symphony of strings cried out in longing and ecstasy. Before her, Sayane saw a black mass rip from the girl’s mouth, tangled in a pulp that was ensnared by the hundreds of glowing lines.

Sayane braced and swung her hands forward to catch it and crush it in her palms. As she did, the symphony roared with beautiful power, and every strand severed from the audience in a flash of light.

Excruciating pain burned through Sayane’s body, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she set her feet and turned her head to the stars.

“Sleep till you find a way back to me.

When you awake, this is where I will be.

Until then,

Maybe we could have a few good dreams.

Reminisce on what we used to be.

Maybe we could have a few good dreams.

Reminisce on what we used to be.

Reminisce on what we used to be.

Reminisce on what we used to be.”

The pain dissolved and vanished. Every note faded, and Sayane collapsed onto her knees. Echo’s hand caught her just in time, and Sayane came to rest at his eye level.

Then, near her lap, the smallest cough and cry echoed out. Dozens of audience members gasped. Some clapped. Some cried.

“Papa? Papa?” the child cried as her pink eyes opened.

Sayane let out a gasping cry of joy as Echo sobbed and laughed in shock.

With one hand, he pulled his daughter to his chest. With the other, he pulled Sayane near.

She could feel his tears on her face as the small hand reached up to touch her chin.

“Where am I? Who is this?” the child whimpered.

“This is Sayane. She is our friend. We are going to help her now,” Echo said as he cried.