#magical instruments

Looking back, Lloyd still didn’t know how it had come to this.

Morro had always been a little bit… different, than the others, but not in a bad way. He was unique, and special, and wow did he have style. Honestly, Lloyd had always looked up to him.

Really, he looked up to all three of the muses.

He was lucky to have been chosen as their apprentice.

Playing alongside them, it was magical. Pixal, with her lyre, and Nya, with her guitar, and Morro, with his flute. The music they made always sounded beautiful, if not perfect. He supposed being the muses of music, that only made sense.

They’d always gotten along so well, he didn’t know where it had all gone wrong.

But one day, Morro just… lashed out.

It must have been building up. Nobody could have their heart filled with hate in a day.

He’d just started spitting absolute nonsense, about how he should have been the only muse, that he should have been in control of not only music, but the world.

Nya and Pixal, and of course, Lloyd, were filled with horror at the idea.

“What are you talking about?” Nya had asked, eyebrows drawn.

“I should be the only one!” he yelled. The other three flinched back, startled by his outburst.

“But why?” Lloyd asked, timid. Music was for everyone, and it was wrong for only one person to be in control. Morro had always said so. What changed?

Morro glared at him.

Lloyd had always looked up to Morro like the big brother he’d never had, but today, he was scared. He was really and truly terrified as Morro continued to rant, advancing on him like a lion hunting its prey. His eyes were darker than he remembered them to be.

Pixal stepped between them.

“This isn’t you, Morro,” she said, trying to get through to him. “You are a muse of music, our friend, and the real you would never act like this.”

“Not anymore,” Morro seethed. “If you’re not going to give me control, then I’ll make you.”

“No, you won’t,” Nya said, situating her guitar and holding her hand over the strings almost threateningly. “Don’t make me use it.”

Morro grabbed his flute, and so Pixal held her lyre.

In the tense silence, Lloyd fumbled for his whistle.

Surely it wasn’t actually coming to this. Morro wasn’t stupid enough to try to fight them. Worse than that, he… he couldn’t possibly really be acting like this, could he? Morro had always been kind, and good, and funny, and everything that today, he was not.

Lloyd couldn’t stand to watch his brother do this.

“Please don’t,” he whispered, unwilling to just stand back.

That had been the wrong thing to do.

Immediately, the room erupted in sound.

Morro’s flute was furious and quick, a violent and ugly contrast to the calm harmony of Pixal and Nya.

It was the first time Lloyd could ever remember their music sounding anything short of amazing.

Individually, both were wonderful, but when mashed together like this, it grated on his ears painfully.

Morro was actually beating them back, one against two.

But if he could get Morro’s flute from him…

Carefully, Lloyd began to move, approaching Morro from behind. Just a little closer. He just needed to get the tiniest bit closer…

Inches from his target, Morro whipped around, his eyes falling on Lloyd.

Panicking, Lloyd grabbed for the flute.

Again, this was the wrong thing to do.

Morro struck him hard across the face, hard enough to send Lloyd to the floor.

Lloyd cried out, pain exploding across his face. 

That was enough for Nya and Pixal. Their music grew in both volume and emotion, and quickly, Morro couldn’t compete.

Lloyd stayed on the floor, unable to get to his feet. Morro had hit him. His stomach twisted violently, and for a moment Lloyd was scared he would vomit. He’d never thought Morro would do something like this.

He put down his flute angrily, storming for the door. “I’ll show you how strong I am,” he grumbled. “I’ll rule this world, and soon you’ll all bow down to me.”

And then he was gone.

Nya rushed to Lloyd, cradling him gently in her arms.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “How hard did he hit you?”

“I’m okay…” Lloyd mumbled. It didn’t hurt too bad. What did hurt, on the other hand, was that it had come from Morro. Morro, who had helped raise him these last few years. Morro, who had played with him, who had told him he loved him so many times, who had laughed and joked and just been with him.

His brother’s eyes, for the first time Lloyd could remember, had been filled with raw hatred.

It shook Lloyd to his core.