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by Trisha Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Fiction · Other · #1817259
My Contest Round entry for the Challenge. A background story on my antagonist, Julius.
"For Beauty"--Julius' Tale


The flute trilled a high note in the climax of the piece. Stone Rose, the clunky wind quartet currently playing, were supposed to be one of the best in the realm of Everam. I looked over at the king and queen. The king’s blank face and the way he continually scratched at his arm gave me hope that he was bored out of his mind. The queen, on the other hand, was all smiles. Probably because her nephew was the bassoonist; I couldn’t imagine that she might actually enjoy how they played. Stone Rose wasn’t horrible, but they weren’t as good as the quartets that had gone before them.

I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. They shouldn’t even be in this competition. A soft hand rested on my bicep.

“Stop comparing them, Julius,” Kalyca whispered in my ear.

I leaned my head toward my younger sister. “There’s nothing to compare them to.”

The oboe and clarinet joined the flute and bassoon, drawing out the last note. Finally. I clapped along with everyone else. The queen stood up, blowing kisses at the musicians.

“Why are we going through all this when they’ve obviously already chosen Stone Rose to play at the prince’s wedding?” Arjan, our brother, asked for the hundredth time that night.

Horatio, the youngest threw an arm around Arjan’s neck. “For tradition’s sake.”

Arjan rolled his eyes. “For stupidity’s sake.”

“For music,” I said.

Kalyca smiled. “For Beauty.”

We walked onto the stage. I took my place at the piano and waited. The deep hum of Horatio’s cello pulsed through the silence. Kalyca and I joined in as did Arjan on his viola. The music swayed and lulled, then sprang forward, churning at dizzying speeds before pulling back again.

I closed my eyes, now came my favorite part--Kalyca’s solo. Notes flowed from her violin gentle as a breeze, sweet and golden like honey. It was as an angel had graced us with a taste of heaven's best. Soon, we joined her again. The sounds of our instruments weaving and molding together as if they’d never known what it was to play apart.

We ceased to be four separate persons. Our spirits united as one beautiful being. The music our hearts laid bare--bleeding life and love into all who heard. When the last note had vanished back into heaven, silence filled the room.

My breath quickened. Had we been worse than Stone Rose? Impossible.

The king stood. A smile broke across his face, the first of the evening. “I think we have a winner,” he said. “For Beauty.”

We’d won. We were going to play at the prince’s wedding. We jumped out of our seats--jumping up and down, shouting, screaming, and hugging each other in congratulations. Those in the audience clapped and cheered for us.

“I don’t accept that decision,” the queen said during a lull in the celebration. “Stone Rose deserves this honor.”

The noise in the room died down. All eyes turned to the queen. She looked at her husband.

"I never wanted to have this," she said. "And now look what you've done."

"This is our tradition," the king said. "It is the same way musicians were chosen for our wedding."

She crossed her arms. Her eyes narrowed into slits in her red face as she glared at my siblings and me. The king sighed. "Let us have a private meeting."

The king and queen left the auditorium. Forty minutes had passed before they returned.

The king walked to the center of the stage. "We have reached a decision. We believe it will be more fair if we hold a final competition between Stone Rose and For Beauty in three days time," he said.

More fair? My heart sank. There was nothing fair about this. The queen agreed to this new plan.

An hour later, we walked down the darkened streets of the city. No one said a word for some time. Only the click of our shoes against the stone walk and the swish of Kalyca’s skirts gave our presence away.

"It's all a ruse," Kalyca said, her mouth turned down in frown. "They only want the appearance of fair-play to keep the peace with the people."

"Have you ever heard of a competition where only the king and queen will be present?" I asked. This way they'd be able to give the honor to Stone Rose without losing face. I stuck my hands in the pockets of my trousers and sighed. "It's all over now."

"But we had it," Arjan said, banging his viola case against his leg. "The honor was ours. We would have been set for the rest of our lives. Mother could have had that house she's always wanted." He picked a stick off the ground tossing it into the darkness ahead. It landed with a clack against the cobblestone. "I knew something like this would happen."

“At least we’ll have come in second,” Horatio said, smiling. “That has to count for something, right?”

“Not when they disgrace us by taking the win away from us,” Arjan said. “We’ll be the laughingstock of all the realms.”

“Arjan’s right,” Kalyca said. “This is worse than losing. No one will want to hire the group the queen campaigned against.”

Horatio stopped. “Then we’ll have to give it up? But I love playing with you.”

Kalyca wrapped a slender arm about his torso. “I know. So do I.” She leaned her head against his shoulder; her wet eyes glistened in the moonlight. “I don’t know how I’ll live if we can’t share our music.” 

Arjan and I exchanged a silent look. Even if we wouldn’t say so, we felt the same way. The whinny of a horse caught my attention. Wheels rumbled over the pavement as a carriage raced toward us.

“Move!” I shouted.

Everyone scrambled to get off the road. Horatio tripped. The clack of the wheels grew louder. I grabbed him by the collar, pulling him to the grass.

“My cello!”  The instrument lay on the road in the carriage’s path. It must have fallen when he’d stumbled. “Stop! Stop!” Horatio waved his arms and ran back into the road.

“Horatio!” Kalyca screamed.

I ran after him. A whip snapped over the heads of the two horses. They galloped faster. I reached Horatio. Wrapping my arms around his chest, I pulled back. Wind from the speed of the horses and their vehicle brushed across our faces.

A crunch and snap echoed in my ears as they moved passed. Horatio stood frozen in my arms. I released him. He stared down at the chunks and splinters of wood--all that remained of his instrument and its case.

He dropped to his knees. “No...” He sniffed. "N--" His voice squeaked as tears rolled down his pale cheeks.

The other two ventured back onto the road; standing beside me in silence. Arjan's expression was blank with shock. Kalyca covered her nose and mouth with her trembling hands. The cello had been a gift from our grandfather--irreplaceable.

“What’s the matter?” Someone yelled at us.

The carriage had stopped. Hopping out were three members of Stone Rose. They were all smiling. I should have known they were behind this. They wanted us out of the competition all together. If one group would miss out, it was going to be theirs.

I moved toward them. Arjan grabbed my arm. "Don't," he said, holding me back. "It'll only make things worse."

I didn't care how bad things got. I wanted Stone Rose to pay for what they'd done. For all they'd taken away from my family. But wouldn't hurt my siblings more than they already were by finishing a battle they were too tired to fight. I was the eldest. My job was to protect them above anything else--even if that meant sacrificing my own immediate desires.

I relaxed my body; Arjan let go. I'd wait, then. Besides, settling the score when they least expected would be much sweeter than anything I could do now.

"Get out of here." I yelled. "Before we run you down."

A man jumped down from the driver’s seat. He swept the black top hat off his head and bowed. It was the queen's nephew.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Did you want us to stop? I couldn't tell if you were waving or trying to fly.”

They laughed.

The nephew looked down at Horatio. He smirked. “Awww... don’t cry, little baby. You’re lucky I hit your cello, I was aiming for you.”

“That’s it,” Arjan whispered.

I looked down. In his hand he held a knife.

“This is going to get us thrown in prison,” I said.

On my other side, Kalyca pulled out the long sharp needles that held her dark hair up. She gripped her ornamental makeshift weapons so tight, I could see the green veins under the skin of her hands pulsing.

“At least we’ll be together,” Horatio said behind me, his voice raw and cracking.

Sighing, I shrugged out of my jacket and took out my pocketknife from the inside seam. Despite the cool breeze of the night, drops of sweat formed across my brow. I turned around, looking each of them in the eye. We would do this together or not at all. My gaze was met with set jaws, stone faces, and hardened eyes. We were ready.

“For Beauty?” Kalyca asked.

“And vengeance,” I added.

We raced at Stone Rose. Our wrath building like a fire feeding on dry grass with every step. Of all the things they took from us, they should never have tampered with our pride. Even the poorest will kill to soothe it. And so we charged. Our spirits once again joined as one. But instead of rising on the gentle wings of heaven, we moved under the fiery hooves of hell.

Beauty would not be the only one to die that night.
© Copyright 2011 Trisha (sharnises at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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