Rain fell endlessly over Modernia.
The storm had begun before dawn and had shown no intention of stopping. The dark clouds above swallowed nearly every trace of sunlight while cold rain washed over the island of graves. Tropical trees bent gently beneath the wind while distant thunder rolled across the horizon.
Between the forests and the coastline stood endless rows of tombstones. Some were ancient and weathered by centuries while others looked newly carved. Their Latin engravings were softened by moss and age. Above every grave floated a Musicum Instrumentum.
At the center of one burial ground stood a small gathering of Musica. Nobody stood too close to one another. Nobody spoke louder than a whisper.
At the front stood a young girl. She was seven years old.
Her dark hair clung messily against her face from the rain. It was soaked enough that droplets constantly rolled from the tips onto her shoulders. Her pale dress had turned muddy from kneeling too long near the graves. Its edges were stained brown by wet earth. Her hands remained motionless at her sides while her expression remained completely blank.
There was no crying, shaking, confusion or visible grief. The light in her eyes was gone.
Behind her stood two freshly made graves.
Fresh flowers had been placed there earlier in the morning by grieving relatives, though most of them had already begun falling apart beneath the rain. Floating quietly above the graves were two Musicum Instrumentum.
It was a violin and a harp. Neither belonged there anymore. They belonged to her.
The whispers surrounding the burial refused to stop.
"She absorbed them…"
"No child should even be capable of something like that."
"I heard she only touched them. They died immediately."
"No Musica survives after losing their Instrumentum."
"Those were her parents."
Another Musica shook his head slowly, unable to hide the fear lingering in his expression.
"The father tried separating from the instrument after she touched him but the bond was already gone. The mother collapsed right after."
"I heard their Musicum Instrumentum flew toward her by themselves."
"No, they were taken."
The word itself spread discomfort through the gathering. Musicum Instrumentum did not simply abandon their owners. They were part of the soul. To lose one meant death yet somehow, this child had made the impossible happen.
One elder stood beneath a large leaf umbrella. He had spent the entire night arguing with the leaders of Concerto, listening to terrified parents, panicked musicians, grieving relatives and frightened teachers who did not know what to do anymore. There had never been a situation like this.
Not in ten thousand years was there a seven-year-old Musica who could absorb Musicum Instrumentum and accidentally killed her own parents. A woman stepped forward slowly and crouched beside the child despite the unease clearly written across her face.
"Sweetheart… do you understand what happened?"
The girl slowly turned her head.
Her expression did not change.
"I touched them. Then they stopped moving."
The woman froze. The words lacked emotion. The woman tried again, forcing warmth into her voice despite the knot forming in her chest.
"Do you miss them?"
The little girl looked back toward the graves. Rain rolled down her face.
"I do not know."
A seven-year-old child should not sound like this. She should have been crying or screamed or even asking where her parents went. Instead, she looked hollow.
Behind them, the whispers only worsened.
"She cannot go back."
"What happens if she touches another child?"
"She could kill someone else."
"Children are careless. They hug each other. The risk is too high."
"What if another Musicum Instrumentum gets absorbed?"
The elder closed his eyes briefly. Every word hurt to hear because none of them were entirely wrong. Fear had spread through Concerto overnight. Parents refused to let their children leave the house. Teachers panicked. The musicians who trained younger Musica outright refused to approach her anymore.
Nobody knew what she was. Nobody knew whether it was safe. Nobody even knew if this ability had limits.
An old woman from the burial gathering suddenly stepped forward.
"She is seven years old. Seven. She lost her parents and your solution is fear?"
The elder looked at her tiredly.
"No. Our solution is survival."
Nobody spoke. The old woman clenched her fists.
"You are talking about sending a child away."
"We are talking about protecting hundreds," another elder answered quietly.
"If another child dies, what will you do? If another family loses everything, what then?"
The old woman's lips trembled. She had no answer. The elder slowly walked toward the child and crouched in front of her, lowering himself enough to meet her empty gaze. Rain dripped from his clothes.
"You cannot stay in Concerto."
The girl blinked once. Nothing changed in her face.
"You are too unstable right now. Your power is dangerous so until you learn to control it….you will remain here in Modernia."
Several Musica looked away immediately. Modernia is the island of graves and death. The were exiling a child so the old woman immediately protested again.
"She will be alone."
"She will be cared for. Food will be delivered. A shelter has already been prepared. She will not be abandoned."
Another Musica sighed heavily.
"She can no longer join Concerto either."
The elder nodded reluctantly.
"You are forbidden from joining Concerto until your strength matures enough to handle your power. If you cannot control yourself… you may accidentally kill another Musica."
The girl remained standing quietly, still staring at him with those empty eyes. The elder hated himself for what came next.
"You are exiled to Modernia..You may return only when you are strong enough."
The girl looked toward her parents' graves again. The rain continued falling around her. Soon, she nodded.
°°°°°°
The little girl stood near the shoreline.
Her soaked dress clung to her small frame while rainwater rolled endlessly down her dark hair and onto the wet sand beneath her feet. The burial was over now. The Musica had already returned to their boats. Their expressions were full of fear, guilt, pity and uncertainty. Nobody had stayed behind.
In the distance, the boats slowly drifted farther away, heading back toward Concerto. She watched them quietly.
Her hollow emerald eyes followed their movement without emotion, staring as the figures aboard slowly became smaller and smaller beneath the storm. Nobody turned around. Nobody waved goodbye. Nobody shouted her name. She did not even have one.
"Did they abandon you?"
The girl gasped softly and turned around immediately. A man stood there. He was impossibly tall, at least seven meters in height. Lightning struck somewhere far behind him, illuminating the storm just long enough for her to properly see him.
His sapphire eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
His skin carried a dark bronze complexion that somehow looked warm despite the cold weather. His long white curly hair stretched endlessly behind him. It was so long that parts of it touched the wet sand beneath his feet. The storm seemed strangely quiet around him, almost as if the island itself refused to disturb his presence.
He was very handsome. Even at seven years old, she could somehow tell that much.
The giant sighed softly before his body shrank.
It happened naturally as though changing size meant absolutely nothing to him. In only a few seconds, his height reduced until he stood at around three meters tall instead. Rainwater slid down his hair as he smiled gently at her.
"Well, I guess that answers my question. They left you here, huh?"
The little girl stayed silent. He crouched slightly so he was closer to her height.
"What's your name?"
She looked at him for several seconds before quietly answering.
"I do not have one."
"No name?"
She shook her head.
"They never gave me one."
For a brief moment, he glanced toward the ocean before sighing quietly to himself.
"That sounds inconvenient."
The girl tilted her head slightly. The man rested his arm against his knee, clearly thinking about something before finally speaking again.
"Well, if you're staying here, then you need one. I'll call you Alpha II."
The little girl blinked slowly.
"Alpha II?"
"My teacher was called Alpha I."
Something changed slightly in his expression when he said that.
"She was important to me so I'll call you Alpha II."
The girl stayed silent for a few moments. The name sounded strange but not unpleasant. At least it was something. Quietly, she looked back at him.
"Where is your teacher?"
The man's smile became smaller.
"She died."
Rain tapped softly against the sand between them. The girl looked at him quietly. He did not seem angry or sad. Eventually, the man stood back up and stretched.
"For now, you should get some rest."
He raised his hand and pointed west.
"There's a cave over there."
The girl followed where he pointed. Far beyond the rocky paths and forests, she could barely make out the outline of cliffs through the rain.
"There's food and shelter too. You can stay there."
The girl nodded quietly and looked back towards him but before she could say anything, he was gone. The shoreline stood empty. There were no footsteps or sound.
The little girl froze. Her empty eyes widened slightly for the first time all day. She looked around quietly but found nothing. For some reason, she felt amazed. Slowly, she turned toward the western side of Modernia quietly began walking towards the cave.