The candlelight danced across the quiet halls of the Royal Academy's eastern wing where forbidden scrolls were stored beneath layers of enchantments and silence. Seraphina's footsteps echoed faintly as she moved deeper into the vault holding a single key carved from petrified ashwood gifted by the Head Archivist without question
She unlocked the last gate
Inside parchment and ink hovered midair swirling around a central altar. Dozens of half-finished compositions floated in motion like a waltz suspended in time. But her eyes locked onto one that burned faintly at its edges as if resisting its own existence
The title was not in any known language
But she knew what it meant
The Waltz of Paper and Fire
She reached toward it
And in another part of the city Nocturne jolted upright in a dim inn room his hand tightening around the neck of his violin. The white moth mask rested on the bed beside him untouched. He could feel it. Someone had awakened one of the core scores. Not played it yet but touched it with intent
He stood immediately slipping on a gray mask shaped like ash drifting in wind. He grabbed the violin and vanished through the window into the night
Back in the vault Seraphina placed the score on the marble altar and began to play using only the soft hum of her voice. There was no instrument here only memory and will
The parchment reacted
Fire erupted across the lines
Notes reshaped themselves mid-air
A melody formed sharp and aching like a blade drawn from sorrow
Suddenly the wind howled and a gust of shadow burst through the doorway. Nocturne appeared eyes wild as he stepped between her and the score
Stop he said voice low strained
Seraphina's breath caught
Why
Because it's not a song
It's a seal
Before she could respond the fire leapt from the score and licked across the floor igniting the old runes beneath their feet. A circle formed around them and the air itself began to sing a broken dirge made not of music but something older
Memory
Nocturne dropped his violin and reached for her hand
If you hear what's coming you can't forget it
Then let's remember it together she whispered
They stood in the center as the light closed in
And the vault disappeared
Replaced by a vision of a battlefield drenched in silence where ancient musicians played with bleeding hands and masked ghosts walked among them gathering fallen songs like corpses
In that moment Seraphina saw it
The origin
The reason why Nocturne hid behind masks
Why the music hurt
And why some songs should never be played alone