Clouds hung heavy over the capital that night as if the sky itself was waiting for a performance it could not name. In the courtyard of the Grand Pavilion a stage had been erected beneath layers of silk and enchanted lanterns glowing soft blue. Nobles gathered in silence. There was no fanfare no announcement only a single parchment nailed to every gate across the city
One night only
No name
No price
No mask
Seraphina sat hidden among the crowd dressed plainly with a hood pulled low over her silver hair. Her heart pounded. This was his answer. Nocturne was coming into the light
Backstage Nocturne stood before a long row of instruments displayed like weapons in a royal armory. He wore no mask. Not tonight. His face was clean young but marked by something older than time. In his hands he held a flute carved from obsidian its surface smooth as glass its tone rumored to mimic the wind between worlds
The curtain was a breath away
He stepped forward onto the stage
No one clapped
No one breathed
And then he played
It began as a whisper that slipped into the bones of the listeners bypassing their ears. Each note summoned images they had forgotten people they had buried within memory emotions they thought dulled by age and duty. A soldier dropped his goblet. A merchant wept into her sleeves. Children stopped fidgeting and sat still as statues
Seraphina watched him
No mask
No lies
Just music
And in that music she saw glimpses of herself reflected in each breath of sound. Her childhood her loneliness the ache of being royalty without being understood. She wanted to scream and laugh and cry all at once
But before she could move the song ended
He bowed once stepped back and was gone
No words
No name
Just silence
Later that night Seraphina stood alone on the stage where he had stood. Her hands touched the floor gently as if trying to feel the echo he had left behind
He's not hiding anymore she whispered
But he's still running
And I'm not letting him run alone
In the shadows above her hidden among the rafters Nocturne watched her not as a ghost but as a boy whose music had finally found an audience that played back with her heart
He smiled
And vanished again
For the next song had already begun
And it would not be his alone