Arc 2. Chapter 2-4
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“I never knew you had an interest for the fiddle” Old man Jean said when I arrived early the next day to his house. As soon as breakfast was over, I asked permission from my parents and filled a basket with bread and some marmalade I knew the man was fond of. Since I was going to ask for a favor from him, I guessed the least I could do was bring him something to eat. “But you got big bags under your eyes, moppet, bad night?” he asked as he ushered me inside.

I laughed awkwardly. “Something like that…”

After the ordeal of last night, I literally haven’t closed my eyes. I was too scared that the demon would appear again. Worse, I was afraid that, this time, instead of injuring myself first I would do something to Thomas and Lucas. But even though the fear was there, I still couldn’t bring myself to go back to my room all alone. Thomas had been ecstatic when he woke up to find me sleeping with him, and even more so when I told him I had a nightmare and had come to him for protection. His chest was bursting out with pride, the cute little melon heart.

Lucas, on the other hand, looked tired, though not as much as me. That was enough to tell me he hadn’t been able to sleep well either.

I decided to come without Lucas, because I knew mom and dad would want at least someone who wasn’t a fumbling six-year-old to help them with the morning chores, and because honestly we’re not sewed at the waist. He wanted to come though, and I could understand why. Seriously, if last night had happened to him, I wouldn’t want to leave his side either, but it was better this way. Old Man Jean knew me better, and trusted me too.

“Ah, Elaine, what brings you here?” a middle-aged woman asked when we entered through the kitchen’s entrance. She was Old Man Jean’s daughter and had quite the attitude. But she had always been nice to me.

Before I could answer, Old Man Jean grinned. “She says she’s interested in the fiddle. See? Someone actually likes music too in this goddamn house.”

“Watch your mouth! And Elaine doesn’t even live with us!” the woman huffed, shaking a wooden spoon menacingly on one hand, though her father paid her little mind. She turned to me, her expression calming down considerably. “Are you sure?  That thing’s only scratches and whines and this man here keeps playing it as if it’s still brand new!”

“Scratches an-bah! What do you know, woman?”

“I know it sounds horrible! Stop torturing us with that old thing! And your hands!” she pointed at said hands with her spoon. “You think you can still play with those hands?! You can’t even button your shirt properly!”

“One day you will reach my age and won’t be able to do the things you want… and that day I will laugh at you from heaven and said I told you so!”

“What heaven?! As if you’ll-!”

Yeah, quite the attitude. I can see now where she got it from.

“Ehm, I brought some bread and marmalade, I wasn’t sure what you liked so I hope this fits your tastes” I said, interrupting their pointless fight. The woman immediately turned from her father to me, glancing at the basket with curiosity. Then, she smiled.

“Thank you darlin’, you shouldn’t have” she said while taking the basket from my hands. “Oi! Old man, we got orange marmalade! You like that, don’t cha?”

“Huh, you remember what I like? What a surprise!”

“Now, why don’t you…?”

And another fight began. I sighed, waiting patiently until the two were done and Old Man Jean was finally showing me to his room. Since he couldn’t climb the stairs anymore for fear of falling, he was currently sleeping on what used to be a storage room on the ground floor. He sat himself on his bed, letting out a contented sigh as he slightly leaned back on his hands.

“Sorry, but I can’t move anymore. I’ve been up since three in the morning. My fiddle is there in the closet. Please get it for me.”

Three in the morning? Why did old people always wake up so early? I remember Mio’s grandmother used to wake up at around the same hour every day… only to be terribly tired and fall asleep on her chair by noon. Not taking more time, I walked over to the closet and opened the doors. There, leaning against one of the wooden walls, was a worn violin case. I stopped for one second, feeling strange at seeing one for the first time in this life, when in the previous it had been a basic part of my every day. Rapidly getting over it, I grabbed it and took it over to where Old Man Jean was resting.

“Ah, yes, let’s see…” he opened the case and took out the old violin with a reverence I had to respect. There sat a man of culture, indeed. As he was tensing the bow, I could see the trembling from his hand, the knuckles red and swollen. It must be so frustrating, being unable to do something you so loved because your body wasn’t behaving like it should anymore. The illness that came with age, it was one I had no knowledge of. Briefly I wondered if I would be able to experiment it in this lifetime.

“Now, to play it’s very simple, though you’ll need a lot of practice to make perfect…” the man said, and only in that moment I realized he intended to teach me from the very basics. Of course, I thought with an internal sigh. There’s no reason Old Man Jean would just hand his violin over to me and expect me to know what to do already, no? Keeping my frustration to myself, I took a seat on a nearby recliner and listened to his lessons. He played an easy tune to demonstrate, and made me lean closer so I could see the position of his fingers.

All in all, his teaching methods were crude, so it was a fortune I already knew what I had to do. Still, they were understandable, so when he passed over the violin so I could try, I made an act and feigned to play a few notes very slowly.

“That’s how it is, very good” he nodded approvingly. After a few more minutes of this, and having the man adjusting my fingers and such, I finally lost all patience and put down the violin with a sigh.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, but this thing is incredibly out of tune” I commented while adjusting the strings and plucking them until something almost resembling how they should sound like came from the instrument. No wonder it always sounded a little odd whenever the man played. All the while, Old Man Jean kept shut, his eyes gauging me and my movements. “Now” I said when I got the violin in tune, “it should sound better.”

Instead of playing the random notes Old Man Jean taught me, I decided to play a few scales. Since tuning the violin came naturally to me, I was confident that my ability to play had not been affected by my death and rebirth. I played slowly, and then faster, letting my new body adjust to the movements of a past life.

Scales had always bored me, so when I was Mio I always came out with new forms to play them, doing them backwards, combining two or three or playing them in different times. Almost without thinking, I did the same now, completely forgetting I wasn’t alone until a loud cough shattered my concentration. With blushing cheeks, I turned to Old Man Jean, who was staring at me with narrowed eyes.

“Care to explain?” he asked, voice soft.

I coughed awkwardly as I put down the violin. “You see… just yesterday I received a… gift…” I started, deciding to be direct. Old Man Jean nodded, encouraging me to continue. “And this gift… it allows me to play… to play the violin…?”

“The fiddle?” he asked, frowning. It didn’t sound like he was correcting me, but I nodded nonetheless. He glanced down, humming to himself as he walked back over his bed, sitting down and making me more nervous by the second when he didn’t say anything immediately. Finally, after a long time, he looked back at me. “Should have said that from the beginning, then.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure… I mean, I wanted to make sure…” I bit my tongue, growing tired of my own stuttering. Old Man Jean made a dismissive gesture with the hand.

“Don’t get yourself worked up. Now then, why don’t you play something for me? Or do you need me to teach you a song first? I’ve never seen anyone with a gift, less of all one that let them play an instrument.”

I nodded, glad to see him smiling at me and not looking offended. I placed the violin on my shoulder, allowing the bow to rest over the strings. “I know a song already. I think I can play it.”

Because I didn’t want to botch it I decided to play something simple. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star served my purposes just fine. I felt a little self-conscious with the man’s stare on me, but pushed on. After that one, I played another song, and another, until I felt like I had a good enough handle of the violin. As I put it down, I stared at my hands with awe. To think that I was still able to play even with this new body… was this how reincarnation usually worked? I had no way of knowing, it was the first time I was ever reincarnated, after all.

I looked at Old Man Jean, expecting his verdict. I only needed him to lend me the violin for a while, the time it would take me to reach Mathias and perform the transferring ritual. But for some reason, I felt like him approving of my performance would be the deciding factor in him allowing for that or not. So I waited, baited breath, until a small smile appeared on his wrinkled face.

“That was lovely. You definitely have a gift. Why, that was much better than anything I could ever hope to play” he sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Elaine… do you want to keep the fiddle?”

That question surprised me. I blinked, tilting my head in confusion. “Keep… the fiddle?”

“Yes… you see, I am the only one who plays here, and no one else seems interested in learning. After I pass, my daughter will probably sell my fiddle or use the wood for something else… I don’t want it to end in the hands of a stranger, or worse, destroyed… so why don’t you keep it? You look like you enjoy playing, and it would calm my heart to know my fiddle is in hands that can appreciate it.”

His explanation sounded logical and it benefited me greatly. However, I didn’t want to take away something he loved so much while he could still miss it. So I hesitated. “Are you sure? I know the fiddle is important for you…”

“It’s because it’s important that I want you to have it. Don’t worry about me” he raised his hands, showing me the angry red of his knuckles. “The way I am now, I’m not able to play anymore without feeling extreme pain… I’ve been forcing myself until now because I was still hoping one of my grandchildren would ask to learn… but now that you’re here, I rather you have it.”

Suddenly I felt my eyes getting warm. I blinked to keep the tears at bay. Why was I even becoming so emotional? It was just a violin… and Old Man Jean was giving it to me. He was leaving his legacy with me, in a way. That’s something I just couldn’t ignore.

So I gave him a big smile in return. “I would love to keep it, then. Ah, would you like to hear another song? I think I can try playing the ones you like.”

He nodded, and so I played. It occurred to me we must be alone in the house, otherwise Old Man Jean’s daughter would have burst inside already to see who was playing in tune, after so long of only hearing her father’s music. After a while, I noticed the man had fallen asleep while sitting, so I got closer and carefully placed him down on the bed. My eyes lingered on his hands again, before unconsciously lifting my own to his.

I imagined the swelling disappearing, but no matter how much time I stood there waiting for it to happen, it didn’t. It was strange. Yesterday night I was able to heal myself without much effort, even though the wound was so extensive and grave. But now, when I was concentrating, I couldn’t even decrease the swelling. Was it because arthritis was different? Could healing magic only heal external wounds? It wasn’t even my affinity, but after yesterday, I had thought….

I tried a little more, and after seeing nothing was happening, I gave up, sad I couldn’t help him at all. I stood there a little more, and when he kept sleeping without any sign of waking up, I placed the violin back in its case and left. I would come back later, to thank him again. For now, I had to tell Lucas of the success of the mission.

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