A Tale Of Sister's Revenge

"The Symphony"

Normally the Ocemon city is drowned in water, but today the whole city was drowned in celebration, joy and happiness of winning. The whole city was decorated with lights, flowers and pearls. Everyone was on the street celebrating. The crowd had been so jubilant, singing the songs that belonged to the inebriated and joyful. They rubbed shoulders never minding that their toes were often trodden on or that they were in close proximity to these strangers than they usually were to friends or even family. The atmosphere was one of elation and electrifying.

No-one can see the dance floor, its wall to wall people dancing to the club music. There’s no room for any more but somehow when Rohini, Serena and Jonet hit it, the space magically comes. The music is all old but they were dancing like it is jive, twisting, turning, holding hands as they changed sides. They were all grins, they look like idiots and they don’t care. Inside they were just happy, happy and more alive than they can ever be. They feel the part of them that is really them come out to play today, to feel the vibe of the music and let their body go free. One moment, one brilliant feeling of winning, surviving and defeating Ovi suspended in time. Even in ten years, no one will forget this day.

Inside the castle, a feast was arranged. Table tops layered with trays of the most delicious food and drinks lined the walls, delicacies capable of making one's mouth water: a whole roast deer with sprigs of rosemary threaded through its antlers and stuffed with bacon and rye bread, marinated Glenloth chicken, grilled trout with lemon, smoked sausages and a pineapple glazed ham, mounds of fragrant wild rice, potatoes and diced pumpkin smeared with butter and spices baked on hot stones, countless cheeses that went with baskets of crackers and bread rolls shaped as seashells, and all sorts of varieties of salads and side dishes. A tureen or two on each table contained either hot soup or hearty casserole.

Three benches that were dedicated to desserts had on them lemon tarts, rhubarb crème Brulee, orange blossom cakes, minted strawberries fresh from the garden, meringues so beautifully shaped it was a pity to eat them and apple strudels served with ice cream. There were decadent chocolate bonbons that oozed rum cream on the first bite. Drinks for the children ranged from orange juice to candy apple punch, whereas the grownups socialized around a waterfall wine chiller and champagne fountain that sparkled with flames.

King Andri took his glass of wine and struck it with table twice. “Serve all the wine to everyone. It is the best wine in the whole universe. A gold - coloured Moselle, very soft and beautiful, a proper wine for proper heroes.”

Everyone applause on the toast

“Today is a very big day in our history.” King Andri continues “All thanks to Jonet and her Somako warriors who came at the right time and saved us. Cheers to our new relationship. We are also thankful to Rohini, Psyfrost and other wizards that fought by our side and helped us defeat Ovi’s Army. Cheers to all our new relation and force. Together we stand.”

The celebration continued for the whole night. At the end of the night, the dance floor was like an abused chess board. On its black and white squares were spilled drinks and broken glass. With the lights up for clean up the whole scene that had seemed so exciting and s****l only minutes before now had all the ambience of a dirty toilet. The painted on smiles of the staff were now sagged into the epitome of exhaustion and no one could wait for the night to end.

The other day everyone was leaving back to their home. Feeling more safe, happy and proud of what they did.

“Once again thank you Jonet for whatever you did for us.” King Andri said

“There is no need to say thank you. It is our duty to help our friends in the time of need. Somako had not fulfilled his obligations for so long, but from now on Somako will always stand in front of their friends like a shield.” Jonet said in a pleasing voice.

8:00 PM, London

Sam and Eva were standing outside a big theatre. The night was chilly with the scent of the ocean hanging in the air. After scoring a sweet spot fairly close to the entrance, they both walked towards a giant gate behemoth. The sign hung high read The Grand River Theatre. Greeting them just below were crying children, excited children and some confused looking children. Adults were becoming visibly annoyed or nervous that they might miss the show because the ticket saleswomen were taking far too long.

“What are we doing here?” Sam asked Eva “I thought we were on a mission to save the earth.”

“I need some rest and fun time. So what is better than a musical theatre?” Eva replied, “Now go and get those tickets before the tickets get finished.”

Once they got their tickets, they made their way through the entrance passing a fluorescently lit snack stand. A face painting station came into view on Eva’s right with, sadly, no kids in line. People sat in a giant semi-circle all waiting for the magic and mystery to begin. Once Eva and Sam found their seats, they started having a cosy little chat with kids sitting next to their seats and then examined the scene. Eva is not sure if this was intentional or not, but the entire atmosphere exuded with a beautiful lake scene. Maybe it’s going to be the scene in every movie or TV show where everything’s going great. The audience is completely oblivious, today maybe is a day for a love story.

The show opens inside the Grand River Theatre Opera House. A sound comes from backstage. “Welcome to the Grand River Theatre we are about to embark the land of lion’s tail, a land of magic and mystery,” This is not the first time that Eva heard this name. The expression on her face tells that she has some history related to this place. “A land without mobile phones, camera, flashes and any other such technological devise so please do not disturb our journey with such distraction. Thank you and enjoy your ride.”

Then all the lights in the theatre were closed followed by a sudden thunderstorm sound, lightning and flash lights. After that, they were introduced to a very aged character and equally aged signature pieces from a medieval era when there was no machine and everybody knew about magic, angels and supernatural things. He was wearing some old fashioned medieval clothes. His very long sleeved, silky jacket covers him to his waist and is bound at the top right side. The sleeves of his jacket are wide and reach down to below his hands, they're decorated with several thread linings from top to bottom. The jacket has a wide v-neck which reveals part of the refined shirt worn below it and is worn with a long leather belt, which is held together by a simple knot. The leather belt is solely decorative and a status symbol. His pants are simple and incredibly wide and reach down to his bound cloth boots. The boots are made from a pretty unusual cloth but are otherwise a common design.

Just then a slow music starts. “Oh, I come from a land, from a faraway place, where camel man walks across. Where it is black, mist and the heat is so intense that it burns your soul.” The man introduces them to the plot with a song. “Salaam, Namaste and good evening travellers, heading towards the land of lion’s tail are you? Perhaps you are, and then we should all pass our time together with a tale, a tale about the lion’s tail, a tale about two sisters.”

Eva in her mind already knew which story he is going to tell and it created goose bumps and horror scenes in her heart

“Once upon a time in the heat which can even burn the river of the lion’s tail a traveller was going along the lonely road. He saw a beautiful girl standing nearby and playing with some small children…..”

Once the show actually started, their average cast of characters came out; Eva already knew the name of the characters: Ovi, Nuevida, and Sir Arthur etc. Even that show theme song came on as everyone pranced around.

It’s like watching a foreign film, as the dialogues were from an ancient language. They have to keep switching their attention between conversation and context. The English translation flashed across a rolling screen half as wide as the stage, perched as high as the curtain could reach. It seemed like a rolling digital advertisement, but instead of being used for commercial sales promotions, it advertised the gorgeous interpretation of every nuanced mood and passing whim.

But then something interesting happened. A woman came out from the smoke donned in her steam punk outfit decorated with clocks and fancy feathers on her hat. With a shake of her clock, she paused time and her goons came out from the shadows as well. They messed around with everyone changing their positions and inspected them as they stood unwittingly frozen. The steampunk leader then tapped everyone on the shoulder releasing them from their temporary shackles. They scurried off and the steam punk kids took over.

There were acts on top of acts of women climbing ropes and doing twists, turns, swings and then gracefully as if they were born to do it, gently return to the ground. Their pointed legs touched the floor like a fairy’s. It was magical.

The men had their own acts as well. Their grace and agility matched the women but with a masculine flair. They jumped from a constructed clock and fell onto an extremely bouncy trampoline which catapulted them right back onto the top of the clock.

As the cornerstone of the story and it is drama, the Nuevida is only ever overshadowed by the incredible set design. Similar to the gears and workings of a music box, the backdrop rotates with each scene change. Like a parlor trick, the centre stage and box seats turn twist and transform into the underbelly of the place. As the Angel of Music/Ghost Opera/Phantom lures his muse and prodigy, Nuevida away from her humble dressing room, they scale a catwalk, spiral stairs and cross a river to sleek away into her pit of despair.

It was the time for the last scene, a scene which brought tears to everyone’s eyes. “You might have won today little sister.” Dialogues start. “But one day I will be back in your life, to take away everything that you love.” The actress who is playing Ovi’s role said

“You don’t have to come back for that as you have already taken everything from me except my life sister,” Nuevida said in a tearful voice. “But I will still look forward to that day in future when we will meet again. Take her now and lock her in the prison.”

The theatre busted into a loud applauds and praises for the artist and the story. Every kid in the theatre had tears and was really impressed by the story. Even Eva couldn’t control her emotions and busted into tears.

Now it was a time for the last performance of the night, a symphony, a symphony performed by Harley Evans overture by the Little Talents Orphan symphony orchestra, conducted by Krishna Sharma, an Indian origin orphanage boy.

There was something about Krishna that drew people to him. I guess it didn’t hurt that he was a good-looking boy, but it was more than that. He was quiet, but not out of painful shyness. It’s hard to get his attention under that mop of brown hair that dominates his narrow face, there are eyes in there somewhere. He had skin the same colour as Indian, that brown colour without the effort of trying to get a tan, not white like a Britisher. He holds himself like he’s trying to take up even less space than he already does. It was a reservedness, like a conscious choice to observe the lie of the land before he got involved. Yet he wasn’t stand-offish, his remained friendly faced and welcoming in body posture. There was nothing threatening about him, nothing at all.

The conductor Krishna shown the first wave of his magical musical wand followed by a thrilling opening chords—BLONCH! … BLONCH!—it set the epic symphony rolling on its long journey.

It felt like a sneaking sympathy for the crowd. It was apparent to their untutored ear that even with not a regular and inexperienced conductor, Krishna Sharma, most of the time the orchestra was just going through the motions of music-making. There was no pizzazz to it, no tension in the Erotica. There was something mesmerizing about this performance. The conductor and orchestra and ultimately the entire audience bonded like a sport team in the zone where it is not possible to go wrong. The strings dug into their job with verve, producing a crystallized-honey sonority that had the heft to balance the chronically raucous brass. Everyone there had no option other than letting the music touch their emotions or bring about the recollection of fond memories. Feel the rhythms, the ebbs and flows, the power or delicacy. Also, pay attention to the interaction between the musicians and the conductor because music is only as passionate as the individuals playing it. Expect to enjoy yourself!

Just then everybody eyes saw something magical happening on the stage. As Krishna was waving his wand some bright sparkling light started to appear near his hands and wand. It got clearer as the sound got louder. Krishna was totally lost in the music and closed his eyes. He was not felling anything apart music, it was like he wanted more music, more sound waves, more vibrations that made him feel stronger and more stronger as the vibration inside the theatre grew.

It is a wheel, a wheel made out of vibrations. A wheel strong enough to bring destructions of all kind was rotating around Krishna’s hand. Suddenly the seats rattles like a freight train just passed, Sam looks at the surface of his coffee and the surface is ruffled like he just put the cup down too clumsily. He looks up at Eva, eyebrows raised and wearing a half smile.

“Now the real show begins,” Eva said and then all at once the theatre is moved up and down with such a force they sprawl over the floor. The picture falls from the walls, glass shattering, the ground shakes with more noise than a quarry detonation, releasing the tension of eons.

At first no-one moves, their brains unable to make sense of the input from their ears and feet. The floor is moving and the noise is like extended thunder only worse because the vibrations are coming from the front. The Orchestra kept on playing music as they were lost in the music and hardly had any clue about what was happening in the theatre. Then like a switch has been flicked everyone moves for safety, all of them on the autopilot mode that all-consuming fear creates. The walls scream and the lights flicker rapidly before going out all together. Together they scramble for the seat legs, pulling themselves underneath the seats. And just then he finished the symphony with his last position of hand break the wheel take off and destroyed the whole theatre and broke the floor into two parts.

In the end, the sound faded, not to wild applause but to utter silence—no clapping, no coughing and shuffling. The musicians sat still in their places as if stunned. Crisp, spontaneously exploiting the drama of the occasion, Krishna held the wand high like a Hollywood Moses displaying the Ten Commandments and every eye in the theatre was stuck at him wondering about the event, wanting answer about what just happened.