Chapter 124: The Best Things

Some berries, it seemed, were not meant to be baked, unless you wanted a cookie that tasted distinctly of fried pork. Thankfully, the cookies were weird but not inedible, so everyone more or less enjoyed the weird mystery cookies that Arthur made.

As discretely as he could, Arthur found a helpful-looking Coldbrook resident and got the word out about what had happened to the water, how sore Mizu felt over it, and how anyone who actually needed water before Mizu could get some basic repairs done the next morning should draw their own. He trusted that the sheer curiosity about why the town’s water supply had suddenly gone nuclear would spread the word quickly enough.

After that, they just hung out. Karra was kind enough to get some water for tea, and Arthur got everyone set up to enjoy themselves as the evening’s entertainment started to filter in. The town hadn’t attracted any full entertainer classes, but Arthur had learned those were rare in the first place. Even though a surprising number of demons specialized in making sounds, they mainly used their skills in dungeons and not taverns. Their focus was on the volume of sound instead of the quality of the music. And the very rare entertainers were majicka enhanced in ways that didn’t necessarily improve them as entertainment.

A long time ago, Arthur had learned that the system buffed arts-and-crafts classes on how well they could make things look and function. But the arts remained firmly in the domain of demon creativity.

Not that stats didn’t help. When Karra and a recently re-arrived Corbin got up on stage to do what appeared to be gymnastics, the sheer distance she could throw him up in the air combined with the crazy amount he could do with that height made for a visual that impressed almost everyone.

The music was solid, too, at least to the extent Arthur could enjoy it.

“You don’t like this?” Milo looked over at Arthur, who was cheering a bit less and getting into the beat less than everyone else. “It’s great. I’m surprised at how good of a band the stampers can field.”

“I can tell it’s good,” Arthur said. “It’s just that I was raised on Earth music.”

“And that was better?”

“It wasn’t!” Arthur said. “Those guys have points in dexterity, and it shows. It’s not like everything on Earth was tons better than right now. But it’s very different. I can tell this music is great, I can appreciate the skill, but…”

“Oh,” Mizu said. “It’s like Earth Elemental music.”

“Ahh, okay,” Milo said. “I get it now.”

“Wait, there’s rock music?” Arthur chuckled.

“Arthur, you can’t say that,” Onna said. “I know it means something different where you’re from. But you can’t say that, especially since you seem to think it’s funny to say. I’m not even going to explain why.”

“Ah. One of those. Got it.” The translator did its best, and sometimes it missed in ways that were, apparently, horribly offensive. Arthur had learned not to ask too many questions about it. “But what is that music?”

“It’s a centuries old traditional form. All rhythm, no melody, no harmony. And it’s very developed,” Spiky said. “So developed that people who aren’t raised actually playing it can’t understand it, including many Earth Elementals. It’s fun to watch, though.”

“For some people.”  Onna sniffed. “You try, you say polite things, and you admire the sheer physicality of it.”

“It sucks,” Milo said. “It’s great, but it sucks.”

Arthur filed away the idea that Earth Elemental traditional music might actually be a stomp music thing, and made a note to try it out later. And as much as most of the music here was foreign to him, some of it translated better. A person got up and played a sweet tune on a string instrument, which went over just fine. A few people did what amounted to a string of comic skits, most of them dealing with ideas relatable enough that he was able to laugh along.

And so they whiled away the night. Mizu was tense for a while, which Arthur knew from not-quite-watching her out of the corner of his eye. Eventually, she seemed to relax, watching the music and laughing at the jokes with all the others.

And then, for no reason that Arthur could see, she tensed up again.

“Are you having a good time?” Arthur turned to look at Mizu, pretending he hadn’t been watching her mood the whole time.

She, in turn, pretended that she didn’t know he had been doing that and that she still was okay. “I’m fine. I just forgot about something.”

“What?” Arthur was interrupted when Milo suddenly rose from the table, replacing a one-man juggling act on the stage and grinning like a lunatic.

“Hey, everyone, I’m not doing axe throwing tonight.” A collective groan rose from the crowd, a combination of relief that one of the town’s most purposefully bad acts wasn’t being revived tonight and disappointment that they couldn’t watch Milo try to throw incredibly malformed axes. “I’m actually introducing something new. You all know Mizu, right?”

Arthur looked at Mizu with alarm. She was no longer paying attention to him at all, instead taking a series of very deep breaths.

“Well, she’s had a hard day,” Milo continued. “But she’s still willing to do something special for us. Mizu, could you show us some water elemental poetry? It’s been a while since any of us have had any.”

Mizu took one last gulp of calming air, nodded to herself, and stood. Arthur looked all around the table with a mixture of confusion, completely out of his depth about what he should be doing.

“It’s fine, Arthur.” Onna clapped his shoulder. “Leena is helping. She’s somewhere tuning her lute.”

“You need a lute? It’s poetry,” Arthur asked.

“Sort of,” Lily said. “We used to have this in the city. Water elementals sing poetry. It’s like… the opposite of Earth Elemental music. Even the bad stuff is good. It’s just pretty.”

Arthur slid to the edge of his seat as Mizu reached the stage, followed closely by Leena, who did indeed have a surprisingly large lute in tow. Milo made it back down and took his seat, clearly pleased to have put Arthur into a state of mild panic with the surprise.

“And the poetry tells stories. That’s part of it.” Milo grinned. “The idea is that water elementals are all very conscious of history. You’ve seen some of that with the greetings. A lot of them build poems as a sort of journal of their lives.”

“And it’s all very metaphorical,” Lily said. “Which means… something. The last time I watched, I didn’t get it. My mom said I was too young.”

“Maybe you’ll get it this time,” Rhodia said. “But for now, shh. It’s starting.”

The lute in Leena’s hands burst to life, surprisingly clear and loud despite the outdoor setting. Her hands slid over the fretboard as she coaxed a soft, almost liquid tune out of it, the perfect compliment for what came next.

Later on, Arthur would find that he could remember every word of what Mizu sang.

We’ve stood upon the mountain and seen the river flow

From the snow, through the grass

And over stones

We climbed down to the valley, building ‘til we found our home

With our hands, with our sweat

And out of stone

And every day the sky above slides through different kinds of blue

And we sit and watch as it shines on us then goes dark and changes hue

And we hew

Our homes

Out of Stone

Now we’ve gathered others to us, reaching out to them with roads

That we built in the grass

Out of stone

All the business and bustle and the shoulders sharing loads

As we clear away our tasks

Never alone

And every day the sky above smiles down, down on me and you

Walking hand and hand basking in the love and returning it anew

Just us two

Are a home

Strong as stone

Arthur had to focus to hear the rest. His ears were working just fine, but the clarity of Mizu’s voice was like a cool knife cutting away all his defenses. Given what the song was shaping up to actually be about, he wasn’t surprised when he felt tears rolling down his cheeks one after the other.

The hall was so quiet when the song ended that Arthur could hear the brook running in the distance. Nobody breathed.

“Oh,” Lily said, in a small voice. “I think I’m old enough to understand metaphors now. I got that just fine.”

And like she had broken a spell, everyone present jumped to their feet, cheering and clapping like maniacs. Mizu flushed seventeen shades of blue that Arthur could count, bowed slightly, and fled the stage like it was on fire.

“Was it okay?” Mizu said, not just to Arthur but to the group. “I haven’t done that. Ever.”

“Mizu, look around you,” Milo said. “Could you always sing?”

“I used to sing at home. Everyone did. Mom, dad. Everyone. It was fine, though?” Mizu asked.

“Mizu, it was so good that I’m not going to make any jokes,” Milo said. “It was good. Everyone loved it. Look at Arthur. His face.”

It was true. Arthur was trying and failing to catch his breath. Mizu walked up and hugged him.

“I’m glad you liked it. It was mostly for you,” Mizu said.

“Yeah. I know. I was afraid for you at first,” Arthur said.

“Me too.”

“But I’m glad you sang it for me.”

Mizu took a deep breath. “Me too.”

“Ahem.”

Both Arthur and Mizu turned to see Onna standing near them, tapping her foot.

“You know, not all of us have conveniently adjacent boyfriends to sing songs at, Mizu,” Onna said. “You don’t have to rub it in our faces.”

“Your face,” Mizu said. Arthur felt Mizu grin into his chest. “Everyone else is fine. Except Lily, who is too young.”

“Mizu, I swear…”

“And you wouldn’t sing for Chuck anyway because you’d get too embarrassed.”

Onna’s retort caught in her throat as she absorbed Mizu’s verbal blow. For a moment, Arthur thought she might actually get mad before she started laughing.

“Fine, you got me, you vicious little thing. Take your boyfriend. Go on a walk. At least that way I don’t have to watch this,” Onna said.

Mizu nodded, pulled away from Arthur’s chest, and looped her hand around his as she pulled him away from the crowd. Arthur’s reflexes kicked in at the same time, just soon enough to grab a thrown bag of cookies Milo chucked at him.

“Here. Provisions,” Milo said.

“And don’t stay up too late, Arthur.” Lily shouted after them. “We have a lot of work to do in the morning!”

A few minutes later, Arthur and Mizu were sitting by the river, just listening to it go by.

“It was true what you said about the sky,” Arthur said, looking up at the stars. There were a lot of them. “It’s like it’s watching us, here. In a nice way. It wasn’t like that, in the before.”

“Another one of your differences.” Mizu squeezed his hand. “Would you go back if you could? Do you miss it?”

“A bit. There were good things there.” Arthur squeezed her hand back. “But I wouldn’t go back. The best things are here.”