• But what is music? Many will argue that it has much to do with frequency, pitch, keys, notes and the like. But I will say otherwise. Strike a fork against a wineglass. Softly. Someone might pipe up and tell you that's just a note. But I will tell you that is little Staccato; his short and infrequent notes adding much to the Serenade that is life. Or, rather, it would be Staccato, if you lived in the small, almost imaginary town of Verismo.

    This town was far from grand; it was small and inhabited by maybe a thousand or so citizens. What made up a majority of the population, however, were the fairies. These were no storybook fairies as you might imagine; nothing like the brightly coloured, flashy and iridescent things that books like Peter Pan and Thumbelina fill our heads with. No, these fairies were quite monotone. But their personalities... that's where the real colour shone.

    The best example would probably be little Melody. His presence in society was of utmost importance, sharing the 'throne' with other fairies like Rhythm and Beat. Without any of these three, music, more than likely, would cease to exist. These fairies, with their magic, were the very cause of music as they know it. Of course, Composers and Virtuosos have the floor on writing the pieces, but when all is said and done, it is really the fairies that bring the otherwise meaningless lines, dots, and symbols to life.

    Sometimes the fairies refused to cooperate with the Composers... and this is why you'd never hear something Jazzy from a usually more dignified person. The insight the fairies had was the best anyone could hope for, as they saw through to people's souls and what they were destined to write, compose, and bring together. If something wasn't right, or wouldn't fit the composer, the fairies would graciously back out from the piece, and as a result, it would sound horrible. Thus discouraging the Composer ((or would-be)) from trying to make something that wasn't really in his heart.

    There is much debate on whether or not the music fairies existed prior to the discovery of music, waiting for humans to clumsily pick up their stones and bang out a Rhythm, or grunt in unison to form a Harmony -- or whether or not the simple act of doing so brought the fairies into existence. Chicken and egg argument, but it was a question to baffle anyone.

    Perhaps you need more. While I lack hard, solid evidence for you, I can offer more examples. Close your mouth, press your lips together gentle. Try speaking. Hear that? Hum is doing his best to make that sound admirable enough to be heard by human ears. Tap your finger once every second or so against your leg. Rhythm, in all his regality, is keeping that steady for you. ...or rather, he would be, if you lived in Verismo. I’m afraid that the best I can offer you are petty words, and my sincere hopes that you can take everything I offer as the truth.

    There are other, lesser fairies, of course. Like Fermata, who liked to show off and hold notes longer than expected; Mezzo, who held his place between Soprano and Alto; and Etude, always the perfectionist, whiling away hours at a time with self-improvement. Smaller fairies than that were present as well, their jobs and magic pertaining to something as simple as Measure, timing out when a piece should start, or obscure as what little Gavotte did; him and managing his 17th century dances that are written in quadruple time.

    Their importance is beyond what I can explain in words. Without Duet, two people singing would sound horrible. Harmony is working side by side with Duet, making their Pitch and such perfect. What do you think an orchestra would sound like without these fairies hard at work in Verismo? Dissonance was a fairy, too.

    That was not to say that there was never any negativity in this city. And that, also, was not to say that the negativity was always that negative. While society tended to shun little Sharp and Flat, it was admitted that their presence was still useful. Maybe useful was too strong a word. They more or less nothing'd the two, often disregarding them as musical fairies at all but usually pardoning them when their clumsy and socially awkward antics brought them to disturb more precise pieces. The two were twins of sorts, being on the same page of musical faux pas as one another, and looked similar to each other. The only thing mismatched were their hair and eye colour, and the arrangement of their respective symbol on their shirts. And, though not related by blood, were nearly inseparable. A small, more sprite-ish than anything else fairy was very often with them; the happy little Glee. Whom, it should be noted, was the only fairy to ever (and will ever) be referred to as a female. Music was predominately male-oriented in Verismo, and since the fairies themselves were virtually genderless they were referred to as 'he'. However, I digress. Sharp and Flat were good kids, for the most part (the term 'kids; was used loosely, as the fairies themselves were ages old, and Sharp and Flat were very personified as temperamental children in the way they haphazardly disrupted music), if a little, as stated, clumsy and socially awkward. They randomly stumbled into pieces being performed and botched up little bits here and there, or sometimes even scattered notes of their own name into them on purpose, just for laughs.

    The dress of most fairies was, as described, monotone. Their ‘costume’ consisted of a choir-like robe in either black or white, the chest consisting of a symbol that reflected their namesake or nothing. The robes stretched down to mid-thigh and they creatures were by no means modest; no pants were worn by them but gray legwarmers topped their footwear-less look. Being of entirely musical energy, the fairies were faced with immeasurable volumes of music that served as white noise to them. As a result, every fairy was equipped with a set of headphone-like objects that fit snugly over their ears, sporting another musical symbol -- or, again, nothing. The headphones were somewhat reverse noise-cancelling, as they served to mirror the music from the fairies’ head, nullifying it to the creatures themselves. The music, however, did serve a purpose. It reflected their mood and as a result, was used to lull them to sleep when bored or tired -- they were not permanently affixed, the headphones. Put on by someone that wasn’t of this magical affliction, however, and it would serve to be as a mood-provoker. Angry music would put them into a heated mood, calm and relaxing would put them to sleep, etc. The headphones reflected the fairies’ mood as well as the internal music that played to them, and were never far from the fairy’s grasp. Wings were also possessed by most if not all the creatures, but the designs of such were not assorted. Perhaps the most interesting wings were of Sharp and Flat; Flat possessing wings of a butterfly’d treble clef, and Flat’s a pair of upside-down bass clefs. Other wings were again other musical symbols, but the less fortunate fairies merely had wings like a dragonfly’s. Somewhat iridescent, but plain amongst the musical mysticism. Some glasses were worn among them, but not by many, and mostly for the sake of fashion. Why would fairies need fashion? I can ask the same of humans.

    It was either mystical or disturbing how new ages of music came to be. The fairies of more timely music (ie Baroque, Classical, Neoclassical, etc) were the only fairies that actually aged. When their time had come (and their lifespan was neither tellible nor estimatable), one of the more secret and slightly morbid practices of the musical fairies came into play. The era of the fairy came to an end when the fairy himself was sacrificed; his blood spilled (the blood of the fairies was made of ink; much like the kind you’d write music with) and read by a sibyl of sorts; their readings and predictions insight to the next musical movement. Apart from them were the rather unsettling beings -- not fairies -- that were known as the Lylt: faceless, wretched creatures who’s soul purpose in their life was to interpret the what the sibyl’s told them, and shape that into the music of the new era. The blood-ink spilled of the sacrificed was used to write the music by the Lylt, and that would be the foundation of the structured music of the time. The Lylt themselves, as described, were highly unnerving creatures; of a bone-white colouing draped in tattered robes and long, wild hair that framed an empty, smooth canvas that served as a face. Covered often by masks that only held a pair of eye holes (that, when upon the face, were darkened; when off they were see-through like any window), held in place by one of two long, spidery black hands. Noise was never made by them, as they were savants of sorts in that anything they created musically was never needed to be thought over more than once, and never for more than a minute at a time. They were otherwise dissociated with the music fairies, only called upon to start new musical revolutions and were otherwise never, ever spoken of. It would happen that most of the fairies (‘younger’ ones, mostly) regarded the Lylt as figments of folktales, and often made up stories to reflect as such.

    With the shine of youth came the love of mischief, and Sharp and Flat were not above reflecting their apparent agesake. The two fairies, while actually somewhat reflective and mature when alone, were highly fond of stirring up trouble -- accidental or no. Clumsiness came with being the fairies of notes, but on many occasions their mishaps were well-planned; and this often landed them in trouble. However deep they may have gotten sometimes, it was a widespread fact that the musical fairies were highly forgiving, and this reluctantly accepted the shenanigans of the twins. But their fate was driven to a negative spike when their last pardon was withheld.

    The day was bright; the air filled with a cautious stillness that was begging to be ripped to shreds with the throws of music and gaiety that only a crowd could bring. It was a celebration for the town, and all the fairies were hard at work. The Lylt had unexpectedly churned out another piece without the sacrifice of another fairy, and so to honour their work and the somewhat mystifying sheet they had produced, the town decided to throw a bit of a party. Little Sharp and Flat were informed, of course, but given their last punishment for teasing Waltz, they were on thin ice. It was not in the nature of the fairies to lock one another up, or to confine them in any way, so Sharp and Flat were merely told to keep their distance and, like all children, ‘be on their best behaviour’. For the most part the twins listened, but when your names are the epitome of ‘accident’ trying hard didn’t always cut it. It was only their intention to throw a few sour notes off that balcony. Just one or two. But the phrase ‘boys will be boys’ came into mind when they were found to be roughhousing. Right above the main performance, too… Over the railing they toppled, disrupting Tempo, Orchestra, Choir, and a few others as they worked their best magic trying to make the celebration shine. The twins’ antics, this time, were inexcusable. They were cast from the town, little Glee in their midst, never to return again.