91st of Ash, Year 121 AS
Pyrecaeon, Academy of Kalzasi
As the sun began to set on the Academy, the magical lights came on in the amphitheater attached to the Pyrecaeon. So too did the magical heat lamps, which spun a more comfortable atmosphere for the gathering audience. It was the last evening of Ash and there was a chill in the air, but the powers that be decided they would take a chance on the outdoor venue. This might also have been due to the fact that most capstones weren't so ambitious as Finn's. He had written a symphony.
And so instead of the cozy indoor space, his guests were outside. But the general hum that he heard from offstage didn't seem upset. Between the lamps and the libations, people were warm enough. There would be more refreshments afterward, a gift from his patron in House Zatrian. After all, his successes now would reflect well upon the Great House. Quite a few of his family members were present, his secret instructor in Mesmer, as well as his lover. Invitations had been sent to the Shinsei, who had heard several early versions of the work before it had exploded in complexity and required so many instruments, and to Lyra, who didn't seem to have much of a social life. He didn't know if either of them would come, or more Zatrians.
He had invited Torin, as well, and hoped that if he came, there wouldn't be undue friction with Arry.
But he couldn't think on that. Little snatches of other people's symphonies played upon his aetheric sense, and they seemed to be in a relatively good mood. That was well. He smiled at some of the performers, most acquaintances doing him a favor, some in exchange for him lending his own voice to their works now that his lute-playing was temporarily on hiatus. He hoped it would be temporary, and he unconsciously flexed the fingers of his left hand to keep them loose and strong.
Weaving a bit of his Mesmer into his words, he emboldened the artists working for him on this. The crowd in the amphitheater grew quiet as one of Finn's instructors introduced the work with a bit of her own take on it. Finn didn't mind; she had a hand in its development and they had spent hours talking about it over the seasons.
"...Finn's Symphony No. 1 in B♭ major, Talon."
There was polite applause and then the musicians filtered out. Finn followed them after a moment, offering a small smile and a wave. He thought his hand looked deformed, but it likely didn't. He hadn't been quite Finn the Fantastic since the attack, but at least he was smiling. He didn't know who all was there other than those he had invited; there were likely a few regulars from the Crown and Lion, even. But he tried to ignore all the eyes on his back as he took up position before his colleagues, raised the baton, and began.
It began with a slow, mysterious introduction that hovered around minor modes, tip-toeing its tenuous weight through ambiguous unrelated keys and so reluctant to settle down into its final B♭ major. The sonata segued into a slow rondo in E♭ major. It gave, he hoped, the impression of an intimate conversation with a God. The third movement returned to B♭ major and its hopeful aspiration for a better world. It was a faster scherzo-trio. And finally, the last was an allegro. His instructor had suggested ma non troppo, but he had persisted with its speed despite her calling it unbuttoned. The playful style sped through a perpetuum mobile before playing the main theme at half speed, interrupted by pauses, before a final fortissimo flourish.
And then it was over.
It must have been at least half an hour even with some of the music racing. He hoped Talon liked it; he had wanted there to be a sense of the prince as a man before divinity came into the mix, and of course, it was inspired by Talon, but Talon as seen through the filter of Finn's experiences. There was applause and Finn remembered bowing, but everything sort of blurred until he was offstage again, his instructor pressing a flute of champagne into his hand.
"Well done, Finn," she said. "Notes tomorrow. Go bask in the adulation of your fans."
He smiled, nodded, and went to suffer through the most difficult part of the evening.
